This took me quite a while... Sorry. I'm not happy with this chapter, but it's what I've got, I may come back and rewrite it... Who knows? And I've found myself with a dozen different ways to finish this story, and no way to get to any of them... Meh, it'll work out.
I tell you one type of story about Eliot that really annoys me: the ones where he doesn't kill, or doesn't like killing. We see him crush a guy's windpipe in the second episode! And I doubt getting the guy medical attention was high on his to-do list, and I think the people in the bar in the first episode were also dead (but whether that was Eliot or their own bad aim is debatable). Now after he joins the team it's a different matter, but I truly believe that before he joined the team he was a killer. Just my point of view. *shrug* Sorry if it offends anyone, needed to air it.
Turkey in three days!
The nervous feeling in the room was there, despite the fact that they all seemed to be perfectly relaxed. Tavia had given up on the knives and was now playing poker with Marco (although they weren't betting, none of them were stupid enough to bet on poker with a card sharp). Reeve was still at his laptop, keeping an eye on the Leverage team (and probably playing Solitaire, or Minesweeper). Eliot himself had found himself on one of the couches, lounged out, watching Tavia and Marco while reading. Tavia was sat cross-legged on the floor, while Marco was in the chair, both staring intently at each other and their cards. It was strange to see their faces creased in a concentration that was usually reserved for the time just before the fight before instinct took over and the peace of their bodies moving as was needed flowed through them.
Marco had dug into his kit-bag and handed Eliot the book, 'Thus spoke Zarathustra: a book for everyone and no one', just like Marco to have Nietzsche. In German. (He always said books lost something in translation). So Eliot was being forced to wade through the whole 'Superman' theory in a language he wasn't fluent in. Still, it kept his mind occupied. Tavia made a triumphant sound as for once she beat Marco at the game he excelled at. The card sharp frowned, and made a tight noise in his throat. Reeve just glanced over at them and rolled his eyes.
"We got about three minutes before the elevator makes it up to here," he informed them all.
Tavia got up at that point, throwing the cards she'd just been dealt back at the card sharp and started to pace restlessly. She seemed a lot more edgy than should be expected.
Eliot's eyes widened and he let out what might have been a laugh as he was struck by a sudden realization. "They saw you didn't they?" Now he did laugh. "They saw you!"
"Yeah, I wasn't quite my usual careful self," she mumbled unwillingly. "Might have something to do with nearly not making it out myself…"
"Ooh, this is precious!" Reeve grinned, checking his monitor. "T-Minus one minute. You got seen Tav? Not only that but you didn't get as clean away as you always make out you do!"
"Take a hint Reeve," Tavia snarled, stalking towards the older man, making even him cower at the fire in her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Understood and noted," Reeve mumbled ducking into his laptop.
Eliot would've laughed at that, if it wasn't for the fact that at that moment, the door swung open and things went rapidly downhill.
Nate wasn't sure why they were in a hotel, where all they'd probably find was Eliot's cell-phone, and some or other cryptic note from his killer, if even that. Parker had lifted the master key off a maid's belt as they made their way along the corridor, and it would be back before the maid noticed (at least, that was the plan). Sophie and Parker had cleaned their faces before they left, and now they looked almost normal. Sophie slipped the card into the reader and the lock clicked.
The door swung open and Nate saw a familiar woman with red hair pacing. His mind snapped at that point, helpfully discounted Eliot sat just behind her and told him to lunge at her. The girl's head flicked to him, she caught his wrist and pulled him towards herself, twisting back to grab for a knife lying on the coffee table behind her.
"Tav!" Eliot's voice snapped, an unusual note of command in his tone.
The woman changed her movements in an instant, pushing Nate's arm into his chest and pulling so that his back was to her front when they hit the floor. Clearly she had planned to land on top of him with the knife at his throat. She let go of his arm, slipped her hands between them and pushed Nate away from her, glancing back at the coffee table her back had collided with.
"That thing is surprisingly solid," she told the three other men around them, getting to her feet and kicking it as the Leverage team stared at the very much alive and breathing Eliot Spencer.
"Hey," he offered slightly embarrassed.
Sophie stormed over to him and slapped him hard.
No-one missed the way the other two men jerked to their feet, or the woman went to move to the hitter's defence. Eliot gestured at them with one hand and they sank back into their seats, with the woman moving away from them.
"We thought you were dead!" Sophie screamed at the hitter in front of her. "Dead! Do you know what that did to us? And now we find you here! Alive and well, with your cell and without the decency to call any of us and let us know you were alive! What would you have done if it was one of us in that building when it exploded? How would you have felt? And then finding out that they're safe! How would you feel if they hadn't bothered to let you know?"
Eliot winced, and put his hands on both of Sophie's shoulders, not letting her shrug his grip off. "Listen to me Soph, I can't say I was thinking one-hundred on track at the time and…Well, you saw Tavia's reaction to being attacked, and we've all pretty got the same reflexes here, plus I'm assuming something big is going down if they're here, and I didn't want you guys involved."
"Man," Hardison stared at Eliot. "That has to be the shitest excuse for not calling us and letting us know you're alive I've ever heard. We're family."
"Yeah," Parker agreed. "And you told me that family doesn't just disappear on each other!"
The small blonde pushed under Eliot's arms to prod his chest, ignoring the fact that Eliot's actual words had been 'You don't just disappear on your team', right after she'd dived out the window in Serbia.
"Who'd teach me to fight if you weren't there? Who'd protect Sophie when the con goes wrong and the mark makes her? Who'd go fish Hardison out of a bar where he's made multiple enemies despite you having sworn that it was his own problem? Who'd keep needling Nate while making sure he was alright?"
"Long speech," the taller of the two men (now shuffling a pack of cards) commented casually to the man next to him. "Always figured her as more the actions than words type…"
"Absolutely," the red-haired woman was now in the kitchen area of the room, leant against the benching.
Reeve chuckled quietly. "That's God's own truth."
Everyone stared at them (excluding Eliot who rolled his eyes and sent a silent prayer that they wouldn't launch into their 'grand explanation' mode).
Marco opened his mouth to say something and Eliot cut him off.
"No," he stated firmly.
"Why not?" Marco protested innocently.
"Because I know you three. I know your games, I know how you act. This is serious. Tavia blows up a building I'm supposedly in, and I fail to let my team know I'm safe."
"Eli," Tavia jerked straight, a flash of pain flickering across her face before it disappeared. "We needed to talk. Old enemies and all that shit. As for the failing to let people know, 'shock' ringing any bells? How many time have these guys been blown up?"
"Nate, Parker, Hardison, and I think Sophie, once that I know of. And none of them were exactly conscious afterwards. 'Cept Sophie, she should get the whole shock thing."
"Excuse me," Sophie waved slightly. "Still here."
Eliot glared momentarily at Tavia who glared right back, amber eyes hard and narrowed. Then he looked back to the Leverage team, not missing the fact that Tavia was moving towards Marco, Reeve and the team's knives (Tavia always sharpened the knives, it was just what she did, even if she rarely used any of the knives they saw her sharpening).
"I know," Eliot told Sophie, pulling her into a hug (she resisted, but Eliot had practise with certain other pissed off women). "But listen to me Soph, I need you guys to be safe. I'm your protector. None of you know anything about my world. Talk to these guys if you have any doubts. Tough as you are, you wouldn't survive five seconds."
"That's overstating," Marco commented, rising to his feet. "As good as I'm sure the beautiful lady is, our world's a hell of a lot more dangerous than they could even dream."
Eliot chuckled quietly. "Alright folks, let's all take a seat and discuss this like…" He had been going to say 'reasonable adults', but that didn't quite apply to everyone. "Like semi-civilized people. No killing the guests Tav, put the knives in another room, thank you."
Tavia sighed, wrapping up the leather case that held the knives and her whetstone to carry it out of the room.
"And please get rid of the one in the one between your shoulder blades, and the switch blade tucked into your bra."
Tavia smirked flirtatiously over her shoulder. "Checking me out again?"
"Only for knives. Leave them in your room."
With a laugh the red-head slipped into one of the doors off the main room. Eliot shook his head and fixed Marco and Reeve with a look that stated very plainly 'If you're armed, do the same'. They both made innocent 'What?' gestures with wide eyes (an effect rather spoilt by the fact that Marco was still shuffling his cards and Reeve's fingers were still busy on his keyboard). Eliot exhaled sharply.
"Drink anyone?" he inquired politely. "I'm afraid I think the strongest we've got is coffee."
"Don't touch the good stuff," Reeve instructed. "I don't even let those two touch it."
"Nearly lost a hand," Marco offered. "Can't take people for all their money with just one hand, and it's hell on your social life. Or I assume it would be…"
"Probably," Tavia reappeared and leant down next to Marco, eyes alight. "We could conduct an experiment, are you willing to sacrifice one of your hands for the sake of science?" One of her tanned hands grasped Marco's much darker wrist, the fingers of her other running over the pulse point. "I'll make sure it doesn't hurt…too much."
Marco expertly extracted his wrist from her grip. "Thanks all the same little sister, but I think I'll pass. Besides, my social life doesn't come under the heading 'science'."
"Your love life probably does," Reeve smirked over at Marco and Tavia. Tavia had a wicked little grin on her face, and Marco was just amused by the entire conversation.
"Guys," Eliot stated firmly. "No shop talk."
They looked at him confused. He shook his head.
"Everyone take a seat. Guys, make room for them."
There were a few moments of shifting before everyone had a seat. Marco, Tavia and Reeve were sat on one of the long sofas, Tavia cross-legged, Marco casually leant back with his arms spread along the back of the sofa behind Tavia and Reeve, Reeve was hunched over his laptop still. Hardison, Parker and Sophie had all seated themselves on the other sofa, Hardison between the two girls, one arm stretched behind Parker who was sat, shifting restlessly, Sophie sat elegantly on Hardison's other side, legs folded neatly at her ankle, hands in her lap. Nate had taken one of the two armchairs and was sat at one end of the coffee table staring firmly at Eliot who was in the other chair, seemingly relaxed.
"Well boss?" Reeve quirked an eyebrow at Eliot.
"Yes Eliot," Nate's tone was distinctly frosty. "Well?"
Eliot rolled his eyes. "One moment. Tavia, question. Real reason you blew that room up with me in it?"
Tavia looked at him, eyes serious, the normal smirk gone replaced by a scarily straight set of lips. Then her eyes slid closed and she glanced away slightly, shoulders suddenly tight. "General Timothy Markham."
Eliot choked on air at that one. "No shit? That bad?"
"Worse," Marco drawled. "General Timothy Markham trying to reinstate the Teams. Trying to draw us all back in. We're the only ones who're off the grid."
Reeve looked up. "Hence the reason we wanted to talk to you. And perhaps make you disappear. Sorry, but Leverage is a bit too high-profile for our liking."
"Typical," Eliot sighed, and then turned to the Leverage team. "And that's part of the reason I didn't call you. These guys never do anything without a good reason. Least of all anything to do with me. We have an agreement. Or we had one. We stay away from each other. Tavia and me, we see each other, we should…"
("Emphasis on 'should'," Tavia mumbled near inaudibly).
"…Turn around and walk away. We didn't this time. And I suppose this is the reason. Is Markham only working this in the US?"
"Some Canadian help," Reeve replied. "Including the Braddock patriarch."
Eliot swore. That wasn't good. For the most part the unit they'd been part of had avoided contact with the Canadian military, and Canada full-stop (which often begged the question why Tavia didn't come to Canada more often), if they were…
"I'll go see Lane," Eliot stated firmly. The others glanced at him.
"As in Ed Lane?" Marco stated calmly enough, although there was a sliver of unease under it.
"No, as in Clark Lane."
Tavia chuckled slightly then sobered. "That's a risk. He's SRU these days. And he saw me blow you up."
"No," Eliot disagreed with a smirk. "He saw you blow Simon Taylor up."
Reeve grinned at Tavia. "Didn't think about aliases did you Tav? Lane will never know that the boss was dead."
"His hair's too good to be anyone else's," Tavia shot back. "I still want to know how he does it."
Marco and Reeve laughed as Tavia's fingers came up to touch the pin in her hair. Eliot groaned internally, that had been a two-pronged attack, one on his masculinity, and the other on his observation skills. He'd failed miserably to mention her poison coated 'hair-pin' dagger when ordering her to disarm.
"You're impossible," he told her. Then he turned to the Leverage team. "You're welcome to stay here tonight, we're going back to the States tomorrow…"
("We are?" Reeve mumbled. "Oh are we, perhaps I can't get tickets for tomorrow.").
"…You can come with us if you want, although I'd strongly suggest you don't. Tav, you and me have some B and E to do tonight. Reeve, Marco, no killing, no grifting, no thieving, no injuring, no betting, no contests, no drinking games, no flirting."
"Anything else?" Marco asked.
Eliot considered it. "Yeah, you manage or even try to persuade Soph or Parker to sleep with you and I'll kill you."
Marco made an innocent 'Who me?' gesture. Eliot's eyes were serious and bore into him before the tall man gave up and nodded.
"Tav, more appropriate clothing, lose the jacket."
Tavia's fingers immediately went to the zip.
"In your room."
She left, glancing back over her shoulder, eyes smouldering as she swept her gaze over the entire group, obviously including Sophie and Parker on a whim. Eliot rolled his eyes again. He'd never understand that woman.
"We'll talk properly when I get back," Eliot promised his team. "I need to know what's going on with this. I will explain it."
That was when Tavia reappeared, cutting off any objections. She'd switched out of her jeans and leather jacket into a tight polo-neck and a set of tight black leggings. Her long hair had been let down and was covered by a beanie hat.
"Well?" she asked, putting her head onto one side.
"Let's go," Eliot told her. "No killing," he reiterated to Marco and Reeve, before following it up with a uselessly reassuring: "Guys, please, I trust these guys, they're not going to hurt you."
Tavia fell in beside him as they left, starting to tuck her hair up under her hat. The door swung closed and the Leverage team glanced nervously at the two men who they'd been left with. Eliot's repeated 'No killing' didn't really leave his last remark with much credit. Marco now had a pack of cards in his hand.
"Poker?" he asked with a grin.
Please review, tell me where I can improve this chapter! Constructive crit please!