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telarynTitle: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas
'Verse: Leverage
Characters: Eliot, Parker
Rating: G
Word Count: 2197
Warnings: None
Summary: S2, post "The Bottle Job". The team agrees to a two week vacation from each other, but Eliot quickly realizes that not everyone is on board with this plan.
Author's Notes: I recently put up an offer for a fic a day for the first twenty days of December. This is prompt #3, provided by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ultra_fic, who wanted Eliot/Parker Christmas fluff. Hope it's everything you wanted sweetheart!
Sophie had been gone for a little over eight weeks, and her absence was like a wound they couldn’t stop digging at. Tara’s arrival had managed to distract them from calling her to air every little frustration that cropped up, but it hadn’t relieved the feeling that they were working a broken system with no hope of getting back what they had. And now that Nate was drinking again, Eliot found himself thinking more and more about what life might look like for him once he finally left his quirky little family for good.
He didn’t remember who had proposed they take a two week break from each other over the holidays, but he’d been relieved when nobody argued the suggestion. By the time they finished reviewing the potential clients Nate had been investigating, Eliot had almost completely mapped out two weeks in the Alps for himself, and had a short-list of three potential companions to invite along with him on the trip. Hardison was talking about going to Chicago to visit his Nana, and even Tara had mentioned looking up an old friend in New York.
Only Nate and Parker were silent on the subject. Nate, at least, was already deep in his whiskey. It wasn’t until he and Parker were waiting for the elevator that Eliot realized something deeper was going on with the blonde thief.
“What’s up?” he asked. Tara was already long gone, and Hardison had stayed behind to talk over a few things with Nate. It was as much privacy as they were likely to get.
The girl’s arms were hugged across her chest, and most of her blond hair was hanging in her face – an emotional camouflage technique she hadn’t ever quite shaken. She shrugged, and Eliot saw her hunch in further on herself.
The elevator bell rang, and Parker was over the threshold before the doors finished sliding open. “Parker?” Eliot asked, following her into the cab. “Talk to me.”
The doors were closed, and the cab had started down before she was able to find her voice. “I just…I just thought we might have a real Christmas this year.” She sighed, and he could hear real sadness in the sound. “You know, all of us.” She met his eyes, and Eliot was suddenly reminded of the child she must have been, and the kind of Christmases she would have known.
He started to ask if she had anywhere to go, or anyone to spend the time with, and let the question die in his throat. Of course she didn’t have anyone, otherwise she wouldn’t have been hanging all her hopes on the rest of them.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said as the cab settled to a stop. “Have fun on your trip!” The doors slid open, and Eliot had to run to catch up with her.
Her expression was pure confusion when he pulled her around to face him, and for a moment Eliot wondered if he was about to do the right thing. Fuck it, he thought. No matter how dysfunctional they were, and how often he’d been thinking lately of moving on, right now these people were the closest thing he had to family.
And that’s what the holidays – particularly Christmas – were all about, right?
“Can you come by my place Thursday around five?” he asked, aware that she was still waiting for him to say something.
She started to answer, then her brow creased in confusion. “That’s Christmas Eve.”
Now it was his turn to shrug. “That’s what they tell me. Can you be there?”
She was still confused, but after a long moment she nodded. “Sure.”
********************
Three days – it was hard coming up with things to keep from thinking about Eliot’s invitation and what it could mean. “He probably just wants me to water his plants or something,” Parker told Bunny that night before the two of them settled down to sleep. “That’s what friends ask you to do before they go on a trip.”
She never would have admitted it to any of the others, but Parker could have sworn the well-loved toy was looking at her with no small amount of disbelief. “Okay maybe not his plants,” she conceded after a moment. She’d never proven to have any skill with living things, and Eliot knew that. “He probably just wants me to get his mail for him. Friends ask you to do that too.”
Thinking about what else it could be sent her brain noodling about possibilities that were bright and shiny and full of hope, and long experience had taught her that things like that were dangerous. So she forced herself to work out, testing her flexibility, her speed and her stealth in all the ways she’d been taught. The exercise cleared her head – calmed and grounded her in ways few other things in her life could – and by the time she arrived at Eliot’s door at the appointed hour on the appointed day, she’d stopped wondering why he’d summoned her, and what was waiting on the other side.
He looked nice when he opened the door – date nice – and she wondered which one of the girls she’d seen him with he was going to be spending the evening with. “Right on time,” he said, smiling at her. “The turkey’s resting, and I’ve got another five minutes on the potatoes.” He stepped back, gesturing her inside.
Now that he’d mentioned the food, Parker realized she could smell incredible things coming from his kitchen, and her chest ached thinking about how much she suddenly wanted to stay. “Okay,” she said, as he closed the door behind her, “what did you need me for?”
He paused, and Parker realized that something was going on that she’d completely missed. Instead of growling at her however, Eliot just exhaled softly. “Parker, I need you to spend Christmas with me.”
Suddenly it wasn’t just her chest that ached. “What did you say?” she asked, feeling hot tears spill down her cheeks.
Eliot was smiling at her again, with a hint of mischief in the grin this time. “You heard me.” He wiped her cheeks with the pad of his thumb, and turned her in the direction of his living room. “There’s egg nog on the bar. Get yourself a glass while I finish getting the food ready to serve.”
Now that it was sinking in that she was here and she was staying, and why, Parker was able to process the decorations and changes to the lighting that had transformed Eliot’s apartment into something magical. The regular lights were low. Candles had been lit everywhere, and there was a massive tree glittering in the corner, with presents underneath it.
“Who else is coming?” she called, pitching her voice so Eliot would be able to hear in the kitchen.
*********************
When he heard the question, Eliot didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “It’s just us,” he called, picking up the turkey and carrying it into the dining room. “Why don’t you come sit down?”
She still looked uncertain when she appeared at the other end of the dining room. Eliot sighed, setting the platter down in front of his plate. “Parker, Christmas used to be a very big deal for my family when I was growing up. No matter how bad things got, no matter how hard it was to put food on the table or keep the lights on, my parents always made sure we went to my aunt and uncle’s for Christmas Eve. We got to eat ourselves sick, open presents, and fall asleep in front of the fire dreaming about Santa Claus.” He walked around to her side of the table and pulled out a chair. “You got me thinking the other day how much I miss that.” Taking her arm, he gently pulled her towards the seat.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind sharing a little of that with me.” Once she was settled, he helped her move closer to the table. “See what things were like for me back when I was normal.” He could sense the conversation was edging into awkward territory, so he returned to his place in front of the turkey. Before he reached it though, he heard Parker say quietly, “I didn’t get any egg nog.”
When their eyes met again, he knew he’d done the right thing. “I’ll take care of that as soon as we get the food out.”
With the initial tension broken, dinner proved to be a very enjoyable affair for both of them. Eliot told every story he could think of, until Parker was laughing and smiling and asking for more. She also managed to eat more than he did – downing sizeable helpings of everything he’d made, except the ambrosia salad which she pronounced “weird, and probably alive”.
“All right,” he declared after they had made as big a dent in the chocolate cake as they could, “you’re going to help me put the food away, then it’s time for you to pick one present to open.”
Her smile dimmed somewhat. “I didn’t get you anything.”
He put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her into the kitchen with him. “Not the point, Parker.”
Mentioning her present proved to be his one serious misstep over the course of the evening – thoughts of what he might have gotten her distracted Parker almost to the point of Eliot losing his temper while they were trying to get the leftovers wrapped up and put away. He kept it together though, and half an hour later they were both back in his living room, and there were Christmas carols playing softly on his stereo.
“Don’t shake them,” he warned, seeing the look in her eyes as she picked up the first box. He was sitting on his fireplace hearth, trying to get some action going in the grate.
“These all have my name on them,” she said, looking back at him. “Which one do I pick?”
The kindling finally caught; sighing quietly in relief, Eliot closed the doors to keep the sparks contained and got to his feet. “It’s up to you,” he said, heading for the bar and getting the egg nog back out of the mini-fridge. “You only get one, though. You can open the rest in the morning after Santa comes.”
He was very glad he was facing away from her when he said it, because he could almost feel her disbelief burning a hole in the back of his head. He fixed two glasses and carried them to the sofa. Parker joined him a moment later, the smallest of the packages in her hands.
“I know you like to keep your things light and portable,” he said, setting her glass down on the coffee table and taking a sip of his own. “So I went small with this one.”
Her eyes were shining in the firelight as she ripped the paper open. “The Night Before Christmas,” she read, looking at the words stamped in gold on the leather cover. “I’ve heard of this one.”
Eliot had been worried that the book was going too far, but seeing Parker’s reaction he knew he’d made the right move. “My dad used to read it to us every Christmas Eve,” he admitted. Eventually he and Lindsey had declared themselves “too old” for the tradition, but tonight Eliot knew if he had the chance he would happily go back and relive those last few years all over again.
Parker held the small book out to him. “Read it to me?”
Suddenly overcome with emotion, Eliot took the story from her. “I thought you’d never ask.” As soon as she had her egg nog in hand, he raised his arm – gesturing her to curl up against his side. Once she was settled, he opened the book and read, “’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…”
He was smiling softly by the time he reached the last page. Parker had finished her drink halfway through his reading, and by the time he closed the book and set it aside, she was fast asleep – her head pillowed on his shoulder. A warm glow of satisfaction filled Eliot as he sat quietly watching the fire. Parker could be one of the most annoying, frustrating people he’d ever met, but in that moment he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be, or anyone else he’d rather be with.
Sleep was tugging at him as well, when he finally forced himself to untangle Parker and lay her down properly so he could get to his feet. The girl stirred briefly, but quickly settled back into a deeper sleep. Looking down at her for a long moment, Eliot murmured, “While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.”
Covering her with a throw, he straightened up and surveyed the room. It had been a near-perfect evening, but he had one more thing to take care of before he called it a night. He’d played at being Santa in setting things up for the thief, but he wasn’t going to stop until Parker woke to evidence of the real thing.
'Verse: Leverage
Characters: Eliot, Parker
Rating: G
Word Count: 2197
Warnings: None
Summary: S2, post "The Bottle Job". The team agrees to a two week vacation from each other, but Eliot quickly realizes that not everyone is on board with this plan.
Author's Notes: I recently put up an offer for a fic a day for the first twenty days of December. This is prompt #3, provided by
ultra_fic, who wanted Eliot/Parker Christmas fluff. Hope it's everything you wanted sweetheart!Sophie had been gone for a little over eight weeks, and her absence was like a wound they couldn’t stop digging at. Tara’s arrival had managed to distract them from calling her to air every little frustration that cropped up, but it hadn’t relieved the feeling that they were working a broken system with no hope of getting back what they had. And now that Nate was drinking again, Eliot found himself thinking more and more about what life might look like for him once he finally left his quirky little family for good.
He didn’t remember who had proposed they take a two week break from each other over the holidays, but he’d been relieved when nobody argued the suggestion. By the time they finished reviewing the potential clients Nate had been investigating, Eliot had almost completely mapped out two weeks in the Alps for himself, and had a short-list of three potential companions to invite along with him on the trip. Hardison was talking about going to Chicago to visit his Nana, and even Tara had mentioned looking up an old friend in New York.
Only Nate and Parker were silent on the subject. Nate, at least, was already deep in his whiskey. It wasn’t until he and Parker were waiting for the elevator that Eliot realized something deeper was going on with the blonde thief.
“What’s up?” he asked. Tara was already long gone, and Hardison had stayed behind to talk over a few things with Nate. It was as much privacy as they were likely to get.
The girl’s arms were hugged across her chest, and most of her blond hair was hanging in her face – an emotional camouflage technique she hadn’t ever quite shaken. She shrugged, and Eliot saw her hunch in further on herself.
The elevator bell rang, and Parker was over the threshold before the doors finished sliding open. “Parker?” Eliot asked, following her into the cab. “Talk to me.”
The doors were closed, and the cab had started down before she was able to find her voice. “I just…I just thought we might have a real Christmas this year.” She sighed, and he could hear real sadness in the sound. “You know, all of us.” She met his eyes, and Eliot was suddenly reminded of the child she must have been, and the kind of Christmases she would have known.
He started to ask if she had anywhere to go, or anyone to spend the time with, and let the question die in his throat. Of course she didn’t have anyone, otherwise she wouldn’t have been hanging all her hopes on the rest of them.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said as the cab settled to a stop. “Have fun on your trip!” The doors slid open, and Eliot had to run to catch up with her.
Her expression was pure confusion when he pulled her around to face him, and for a moment Eliot wondered if he was about to do the right thing. Fuck it, he thought. No matter how dysfunctional they were, and how often he’d been thinking lately of moving on, right now these people were the closest thing he had to family.
And that’s what the holidays – particularly Christmas – were all about, right?
“Can you come by my place Thursday around five?” he asked, aware that she was still waiting for him to say something.
She started to answer, then her brow creased in confusion. “That’s Christmas Eve.”
Now it was his turn to shrug. “That’s what they tell me. Can you be there?”
She was still confused, but after a long moment she nodded. “Sure.”
********************
Three days – it was hard coming up with things to keep from thinking about Eliot’s invitation and what it could mean. “He probably just wants me to water his plants or something,” Parker told Bunny that night before the two of them settled down to sleep. “That’s what friends ask you to do before they go on a trip.”
She never would have admitted it to any of the others, but Parker could have sworn the well-loved toy was looking at her with no small amount of disbelief. “Okay maybe not his plants,” she conceded after a moment. She’d never proven to have any skill with living things, and Eliot knew that. “He probably just wants me to get his mail for him. Friends ask you to do that too.”
Thinking about what else it could be sent her brain noodling about possibilities that were bright and shiny and full of hope, and long experience had taught her that things like that were dangerous. So she forced herself to work out, testing her flexibility, her speed and her stealth in all the ways she’d been taught. The exercise cleared her head – calmed and grounded her in ways few other things in her life could – and by the time she arrived at Eliot’s door at the appointed hour on the appointed day, she’d stopped wondering why he’d summoned her, and what was waiting on the other side.
He looked nice when he opened the door – date nice – and she wondered which one of the girls she’d seen him with he was going to be spending the evening with. “Right on time,” he said, smiling at her. “The turkey’s resting, and I’ve got another five minutes on the potatoes.” He stepped back, gesturing her inside.
Now that he’d mentioned the food, Parker realized she could smell incredible things coming from his kitchen, and her chest ached thinking about how much she suddenly wanted to stay. “Okay,” she said, as he closed the door behind her, “what did you need me for?”
He paused, and Parker realized that something was going on that she’d completely missed. Instead of growling at her however, Eliot just exhaled softly. “Parker, I need you to spend Christmas with me.”
Suddenly it wasn’t just her chest that ached. “What did you say?” she asked, feeling hot tears spill down her cheeks.
Eliot was smiling at her again, with a hint of mischief in the grin this time. “You heard me.” He wiped her cheeks with the pad of his thumb, and turned her in the direction of his living room. “There’s egg nog on the bar. Get yourself a glass while I finish getting the food ready to serve.”
Now that it was sinking in that she was here and she was staying, and why, Parker was able to process the decorations and changes to the lighting that had transformed Eliot’s apartment into something magical. The regular lights were low. Candles had been lit everywhere, and there was a massive tree glittering in the corner, with presents underneath it.
“Who else is coming?” she called, pitching her voice so Eliot would be able to hear in the kitchen.
*********************
When he heard the question, Eliot didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “It’s just us,” he called, picking up the turkey and carrying it into the dining room. “Why don’t you come sit down?”
She still looked uncertain when she appeared at the other end of the dining room. Eliot sighed, setting the platter down in front of his plate. “Parker, Christmas used to be a very big deal for my family when I was growing up. No matter how bad things got, no matter how hard it was to put food on the table or keep the lights on, my parents always made sure we went to my aunt and uncle’s for Christmas Eve. We got to eat ourselves sick, open presents, and fall asleep in front of the fire dreaming about Santa Claus.” He walked around to her side of the table and pulled out a chair. “You got me thinking the other day how much I miss that.” Taking her arm, he gently pulled her towards the seat.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind sharing a little of that with me.” Once she was settled, he helped her move closer to the table. “See what things were like for me back when I was normal.” He could sense the conversation was edging into awkward territory, so he returned to his place in front of the turkey. Before he reached it though, he heard Parker say quietly, “I didn’t get any egg nog.”
When their eyes met again, he knew he’d done the right thing. “I’ll take care of that as soon as we get the food out.”
With the initial tension broken, dinner proved to be a very enjoyable affair for both of them. Eliot told every story he could think of, until Parker was laughing and smiling and asking for more. She also managed to eat more than he did – downing sizeable helpings of everything he’d made, except the ambrosia salad which she pronounced “weird, and probably alive”.
“All right,” he declared after they had made as big a dent in the chocolate cake as they could, “you’re going to help me put the food away, then it’s time for you to pick one present to open.”
Her smile dimmed somewhat. “I didn’t get you anything.”
He put his arm around her shoulders, guiding her into the kitchen with him. “Not the point, Parker.”
Mentioning her present proved to be his one serious misstep over the course of the evening – thoughts of what he might have gotten her distracted Parker almost to the point of Eliot losing his temper while they were trying to get the leftovers wrapped up and put away. He kept it together though, and half an hour later they were both back in his living room, and there were Christmas carols playing softly on his stereo.
“Don’t shake them,” he warned, seeing the look in her eyes as she picked up the first box. He was sitting on his fireplace hearth, trying to get some action going in the grate.
“These all have my name on them,” she said, looking back at him. “Which one do I pick?”
The kindling finally caught; sighing quietly in relief, Eliot closed the doors to keep the sparks contained and got to his feet. “It’s up to you,” he said, heading for the bar and getting the egg nog back out of the mini-fridge. “You only get one, though. You can open the rest in the morning after Santa comes.”
He was very glad he was facing away from her when he said it, because he could almost feel her disbelief burning a hole in the back of his head. He fixed two glasses and carried them to the sofa. Parker joined him a moment later, the smallest of the packages in her hands.
“I know you like to keep your things light and portable,” he said, setting her glass down on the coffee table and taking a sip of his own. “So I went small with this one.”
Her eyes were shining in the firelight as she ripped the paper open. “The Night Before Christmas,” she read, looking at the words stamped in gold on the leather cover. “I’ve heard of this one.”
Eliot had been worried that the book was going too far, but seeing Parker’s reaction he knew he’d made the right move. “My dad used to read it to us every Christmas Eve,” he admitted. Eventually he and Lindsey had declared themselves “too old” for the tradition, but tonight Eliot knew if he had the chance he would happily go back and relive those last few years all over again.
Parker held the small book out to him. “Read it to me?”
Suddenly overcome with emotion, Eliot took the story from her. “I thought you’d never ask.” As soon as she had her egg nog in hand, he raised his arm – gesturing her to curl up against his side. Once she was settled, he opened the book and read, “’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…”
He was smiling softly by the time he reached the last page. Parker had finished her drink halfway through his reading, and by the time he closed the book and set it aside, she was fast asleep – her head pillowed on his shoulder. A warm glow of satisfaction filled Eliot as he sat quietly watching the fire. Parker could be one of the most annoying, frustrating people he’d ever met, but in that moment he couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be, or anyone else he’d rather be with.
Sleep was tugging at him as well, when he finally forced himself to untangle Parker and lay her down properly so he could get to his feet. The girl stirred briefly, but quickly settled back into a deeper sleep. Looking down at her for a long moment, Eliot murmured, “While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.”
Covering her with a throw, he straightened up and surveyed the room. It had been a near-perfect evening, but he had one more thing to take care of before he called it a night. He’d played at being Santa in setting things up for the thief, but he wasn’t going to stop until Parker woke to evidence of the real thing.
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