(![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
piecesofalice Jul. 20th, 2009 05:58 pm)
piecesofalice Jul. 20th, 2009 05:58 pm)Title: You, Me & The Weather
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
piecesofalice
Giftee:norah
Pairing: Hardison/Parker (ish)
Rating: PG
A/N: This is for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
leveragexchange and especially for norah - who I apologise profusely to for the lateness! With thanks to suburbannoir for the beta/sound-boarding & Hawksley Workman for the title. Written using (liberally) her prompts for a fannish cliche (huddling for warmth) and Hardison backstory. I hope you enjoy it, norah!!
You, Me & The Weather
Leverage-verse, for myleveragexchange recipient, norah
---
Stop saying
"How lost am I?"
Hawksley Workman, 'No Stillness & No Rain'
---
It's pouring with rain, the steam coming off the pavement doing nothing to stop the chill creeping into his bones and taking cover.
Cover. They needed to find cover.
Parker was seven steps behind, her face bleeding a little from their altercation with a very angry man named Steve, her hands gripping around her middle like she was searching her own pockets for change.
He should call for her, Alec thought to himself, his eyes darting back and forth looking for a less obvious place to hide, reach out for her.
"There they are!"
Shutupshutupshutup. Cover.
The ting of metal against metal brought his mind in to sharp focus, his hand out behind him to grab Parker's - as if the force of her hand in his could stop the shattering of bullets overhead.
They began to run, as Steve and his group of friends brought up the rear.
Their comms were dead. Eliot was nowhere. Nate and Sophie, somewhere.
Just run. Just hold on.
---
"Here."
"What is it?"
"A computer. It's old, but I got it for cheap and you can do your school work on it."
"We can't aff -"
"Alec. You are going to get into university if it kills me, boy. Now get to it, I know that history paper isn't going to write it's self! And it's supper in an hour."
"Nana."
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, baby."
---
"You didn't have to grab me."
"Parker. Really?"
They had their backs against a brick wall, her legs up around her ears as she seemed to look everywhere but at him.
They were somewhere, under the cover of some vestibule in the middle of an industrial estate that wouldn't be safe to run out of until a) he fixed their comms with three dimes, a straw in it's paper wrapper and the button Parker had offered off the inside of her coat or b) Steve and his growing number of cronies suddenly dropped dead of pneumonia or sugar shock.
"It kind of hurt."
"You want to do this now? With The Incredible Hulk out there and a good chunk of time before the sun gets up?"
"They're not vampires."
"What? I know they ain't! They're big-ass dudes with big-ass shotguns who are pissed we stole their big-assed pile of money!"
Her face screwed up, settling into "petulant child" with an ability of ease, her arms crossing over her chest before she put her chin on top. The rain beat down on the metal sheeting that was covering them, and, for the first time, he noticed with alarm she was shaking like a leaf.
"Hey, Parker. I'm sor - you okay?"
There was silence, bar the rain. Her eyes were wide, and slightly, very softly, she shook her head and let out a sigh.
"Cold."
"What?"
"Cold. I - I'm cold."
"Here." He unzipped his parka without thinking, reaching an arm around her, her body tensing in response. Because, really, she didn't like to be touched. Really, truly didn't like it, unless the job called for a clandestine it-means-nothing kiss in a hallway or if she needed a boost to the top of a rather high fire escape.
That said, she wasn't overly fond of communicating, either, but where one was a necessity, the other was just the sign of a very, very careful human being.
A human being who, despite having come out of whatever shell she'd built around herself these past months, was still that wide-eyed staring little blonde girl, the one who watched passively as the police tended to crime scenes she'd committed, her teddy tight in her arms like it was the only thing left to understand her.
A human being who mirrored his race for survival so much so he could see the kicking and clawing like it was right in front of him.
---
"Aleeeccccc."
"I ain't doin' your homework, Jason. Even for a fifty."
"No, no. Hey."
"What."
"I heard somethin' about you in the caf today."
"And what did you hear in the caf today, huh?"
"You can, y'know, change grades."
"Jason..."
"Come on, Alec. You're my roomie, I know you ain't always doing Psych 101 shit on that box."
"Dude."
"Come on. I need an A, or my Mom'll kick my ass."
"One fifty. In cash. And one word to anyone, and I'll be the one kickin' your ass, y'hear?"
---
"We' gonna freeze if you don't get in close, okay? I'm not getting fresh."
She felt like ice when he put his arm around her thin shoulders. There was still elements of that kid-she-used-to-be, lingering around her as she kept her eyes low and her body tense as he moved her in front of him and between his legs. Her body was slight - muscular, but slight - and she smelled like - well, Parker, to be completely honest, like gunpowder and treason and (yes, even) plot.
He pulled himself around her, his legs in front of hers, the need to make the mood light. "There. An Alec Hardison Cocoon."
She said nothing, and anything she could have said would probably be drowned out by the weather, so he sighed and strained his eyes in the low swinging light in an attempt to fix the comms that could be their only chance to get out alive.
But when her back slipped slightly? He had to grin against her hair, because it felt something like home.
---
"Twelve servers where hacked."
"Hacked, sir? I don't know the meaning of the word."
"Look. Hardison. You're a kid. You've got an Ivy League education. Do you really want to fuck it up by moving shit around in the FBI files for no reason?"
"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, sir."
"How did you wipe your hard drives clean without being in the room?"
"Are you charging me with anything?"
"...No. But mark my words, Alec. We're watching. And we'll always be watching."
"Thank you, sir. Which way to get my wallet and phone back?"
---
"Is it working."
It was the first thing she'd said for over an hour, her head pushed down into her arms as she sat in front of him like a little hot water bottle. He'd been tinkering around her, pulling both comms apart and cannibalizing one to fix the other, but -
Nothing.
"Nah. The rain's killed it. Damn," and he shifted a bit. "Sorry."
"It's...it's okay. I'm warm now."
"Good."
And you could have knocked him down with a feather (or whatever the saying was) when, with the briefest of touches, Parker pulled his arms around her like a blanket.
---
"I miss her."
"I know."
"She believed in me, y'know? When no-one else gave a damn about some poor black foster kid, too old for adoption and too freakin' young for anything else."
"I know."
"I miss her, Nate."
"I know, Hardison. I know."
---
"Tell me a story."
His head was next to hers - the way they were posed would be, in any other world, like looking at lovers in a park or something. But they weren't that, they were them, and he breathed out because he hadn't even been aware he was holding his breath.
"A story?"
"Tell me about your Nana."
"About my Nana?"
"Are you a parrot."
Because she never asked questions, just made statements and it was Parker in the way he knew her, without knowing her at all.
So he told her about his Nana, about his life-before-them, and when the sun came up, Eliot's grin poked through the gap between them and the day; his face covered in blood and a block of 2x4 in his hand that looked about as rough as he did.
"Hey. Miss me?"
"No," they answered in unison.
And they walked past Steve and his friends on the ground and out the front gate to where Nate and Sophie were waiting by the van, a little bit safer than they were the night before.
---
Fin.
---
What was that I don't even know. I hope you got some enjoyment out of it,norah! I really loved writing it - fannish cliches are my favourite. <3
And, the fic I got in return fromrodox: "Waiting in the Empty Quarter". It's awesome and Hardison/Parker-ish and wonderful.
Author/Artist:
piecesofaliceGiftee:
norahPairing: Hardison/Parker (ish)
Rating: PG
A/N: This is for the
leveragexchange and especially for norah - who I apologise profusely to for the lateness! With thanks to suburbannoir for the beta/sound-boarding & Hawksley Workman for the title. Written using (liberally) her prompts for a fannish cliche (huddling for warmth) and Hardison backstory. I hope you enjoy it, norah!!You, Me & The Weather
Leverage-verse, for my
leveragexchange recipient, norah---
Stop saying
"How lost am I?"
Hawksley Workman, 'No Stillness & No Rain'
---
It's pouring with rain, the steam coming off the pavement doing nothing to stop the chill creeping into his bones and taking cover.
Cover. They needed to find cover.
Parker was seven steps behind, her face bleeding a little from their altercation with a very angry man named Steve, her hands gripping around her middle like she was searching her own pockets for change.
He should call for her, Alec thought to himself, his eyes darting back and forth looking for a less obvious place to hide, reach out for her.
"There they are!"
Shutupshutupshutup. Cover.
The ting of metal against metal brought his mind in to sharp focus, his hand out behind him to grab Parker's - as if the force of her hand in his could stop the shattering of bullets overhead.
They began to run, as Steve and his group of friends brought up the rear.
Their comms were dead. Eliot was nowhere. Nate and Sophie, somewhere.
Just run. Just hold on.
---
"Here."
"What is it?"
"A computer. It's old, but I got it for cheap and you can do your school work on it."
"We can't aff -"
"Alec. You are going to get into university if it kills me, boy. Now get to it, I know that history paper isn't going to write it's self! And it's supper in an hour."
"Nana."
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, baby."
---
"You didn't have to grab me."
"Parker. Really?"
They had their backs against a brick wall, her legs up around her ears as she seemed to look everywhere but at him.
They were somewhere, under the cover of some vestibule in the middle of an industrial estate that wouldn't be safe to run out of until a) he fixed their comms with three dimes, a straw in it's paper wrapper and the button Parker had offered off the inside of her coat or b) Steve and his growing number of cronies suddenly dropped dead of pneumonia or sugar shock.
"It kind of hurt."
"You want to do this now? With The Incredible Hulk out there and a good chunk of time before the sun gets up?"
"They're not vampires."
"What? I know they ain't! They're big-ass dudes with big-ass shotguns who are pissed we stole their big-assed pile of money!"
Her face screwed up, settling into "petulant child" with an ability of ease, her arms crossing over her chest before she put her chin on top. The rain beat down on the metal sheeting that was covering them, and, for the first time, he noticed with alarm she was shaking like a leaf.
"Hey, Parker. I'm sor - you okay?"
There was silence, bar the rain. Her eyes were wide, and slightly, very softly, she shook her head and let out a sigh.
"Cold."
"What?"
"Cold. I - I'm cold."
"Here." He unzipped his parka without thinking, reaching an arm around her, her body tensing in response. Because, really, she didn't like to be touched. Really, truly didn't like it, unless the job called for a clandestine it-means-nothing kiss in a hallway or if she needed a boost to the top of a rather high fire escape.
That said, she wasn't overly fond of communicating, either, but where one was a necessity, the other was just the sign of a very, very careful human being.
A human being who, despite having come out of whatever shell she'd built around herself these past months, was still that wide-eyed staring little blonde girl, the one who watched passively as the police tended to crime scenes she'd committed, her teddy tight in her arms like it was the only thing left to understand her.
A human being who mirrored his race for survival so much so he could see the kicking and clawing like it was right in front of him.
---
"Aleeeccccc."
"I ain't doin' your homework, Jason. Even for a fifty."
"No, no. Hey."
"What."
"I heard somethin' about you in the caf today."
"And what did you hear in the caf today, huh?"
"You can, y'know, change grades."
"Jason..."
"Come on, Alec. You're my roomie, I know you ain't always doing Psych 101 shit on that box."
"Dude."
"Come on. I need an A, or my Mom'll kick my ass."
"One fifty. In cash. And one word to anyone, and I'll be the one kickin' your ass, y'hear?"
---
"We' gonna freeze if you don't get in close, okay? I'm not getting fresh."
She felt like ice when he put his arm around her thin shoulders. There was still elements of that kid-she-used-to-be, lingering around her as she kept her eyes low and her body tense as he moved her in front of him and between his legs. Her body was slight - muscular, but slight - and she smelled like - well, Parker, to be completely honest, like gunpowder and treason and (yes, even) plot.
He pulled himself around her, his legs in front of hers, the need to make the mood light. "There. An Alec Hardison Cocoon."
She said nothing, and anything she could have said would probably be drowned out by the weather, so he sighed and strained his eyes in the low swinging light in an attempt to fix the comms that could be their only chance to get out alive.
But when her back slipped slightly? He had to grin against her hair, because it felt something like home.
---
"Twelve servers where hacked."
"Hacked, sir? I don't know the meaning of the word."
"Look. Hardison. You're a kid. You've got an Ivy League education. Do you really want to fuck it up by moving shit around in the FBI files for no reason?"
"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about, sir."
"How did you wipe your hard drives clean without being in the room?"
"Are you charging me with anything?"
"...No. But mark my words, Alec. We're watching. And we'll always be watching."
"Thank you, sir. Which way to get my wallet and phone back?"
---
"Is it working."
It was the first thing she'd said for over an hour, her head pushed down into her arms as she sat in front of him like a little hot water bottle. He'd been tinkering around her, pulling both comms apart and cannibalizing one to fix the other, but -
Nothing.
"Nah. The rain's killed it. Damn," and he shifted a bit. "Sorry."
"It's...it's okay. I'm warm now."
"Good."
And you could have knocked him down with a feather (or whatever the saying was) when, with the briefest of touches, Parker pulled his arms around her like a blanket.
---
"I miss her."
"I know."
"She believed in me, y'know? When no-one else gave a damn about some poor black foster kid, too old for adoption and too freakin' young for anything else."
"I know."
"I miss her, Nate."
"I know, Hardison. I know."
---
"Tell me a story."
His head was next to hers - the way they were posed would be, in any other world, like looking at lovers in a park or something. But they weren't that, they were them, and he breathed out because he hadn't even been aware he was holding his breath.
"A story?"
"Tell me about your Nana."
"About my Nana?"
"Are you a parrot."
Because she never asked questions, just made statements and it was Parker in the way he knew her, without knowing her at all.
So he told her about his Nana, about his life-before-them, and when the sun came up, Eliot's grin poked through the gap between them and the day; his face covered in blood and a block of 2x4 in his hand that looked about as rough as he did.
"Hey. Miss me?"
"No," they answered in unison.
And they walked past Steve and his friends on the ground and out the front gate to where Nate and Sophie were waiting by the van, a little bit safer than they were the night before.
---
Fin.
---
What was that I don't even know. I hope you got some enjoyment out of it,
norah! I really loved writing it - fannish cliches are my favourite. <3And, the fic I got in return from
rodox: "Waiting in the Empty Quarter". It's awesome and Hardison/Parker-ish and wonderful.
Tags:
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(has nothing else to say, has never seen the show.)
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And do you mean "Stormy Weather" by Shirls? Because her doing a Hawksley cover would be AMAZING.
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that IS the shirley bassey version!
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I thought they were going to die horribly.
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I just loved the simplicity of the plot, with them hiding out, and I could really see them sitting there. I loved this line about Parker: Because she never asked questions, just made statements and it was Parker in the way he knew her, without knowing her at all. - That's her to a T.
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