Title: confidential knowledge
Disclaimer: not my characters
Warnings: takes place early on in the series
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 260
Point of view: third
Prompt: Eliot, Sophie's the grifter, but Eliot's mask has been in place so long sometimes he forgets he can take it off
What they know about Eliot boils down to this: he's dangerous, doesn't like guns, loves horses, and cooks like a highly trained chef.
He knows every method of fighting ever, even the ones no one uses anymore or haven't invented yet. He refuses to let people hear him sing, he's dated a girl in every city and profession, and he despises people who hurt little kids.
"C'mon, Eliot, tell me somethin'," Hardison whines, pouting. "Anythin'. What I know about you could—uh." He pauses to think of an adequate description, so Sophie chimes in, "A teacup, Eliot. What we know about you could scarcely fill a teacup."
Eliot rolls his eyes. "I first rode a horse when I was six."
He trusts these people, he really does. But he's not quite ready to reveal too much about himself, because that only leads to getting hurt.
So, yeah, he first rode a horse when he was six. His granddaddy swung up behind him and took him to his cabin, where he made sure Eliot knew how to defend himself against anyone. But every afternoon, no matter what, Grandpa put Eliot back on that horse and told him, "This doesn't have to be your life, Eliot. If you survive long enough, you can get out, make something of yourself. You hear me, boy?"
Horses are the freedom to run. That's why Eliot loves them.
"What else?" Hardison asks.
Eliot shrugs. "Not important."
Nate studies him a moment before turning to Hardison and asking, "So, which government agency did you hack into first?"