FIC: The Ceiling Job by [personal profile] doc_sock

  • Sep. 10th, 2009 at 11:16 AM
doc_sock: Doc Oc with all of this arms showing. (Default)
Title: The Ceiling Job
Author: [personal profile] doc_sock/[livejournal.com profile] doc_socktopus
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Fandom: Leverage
Characters: Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison, Parker, Nathan Ford, Sophie Devereaux
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Words: 550
Summary: Nate and Sophie want braaaaains
Notes: Written for this [livejournal.com profile] zombie_fest prompt.


Eliot eased open the closet door and peered out, scanning the room. He met Parker’s eyes for a moment in the air vent, and shook his head slightly when she motioned toward the door. Hardison waved frantically from the other closet. Couldn’t he see Eliot was trying to form a plan here?

He sighed and, after making sure the room was empty one final time, ran across to Hardison’s closet and shoved his way in.

“What?” he whispered.

“Man, what are you doing?” Hardison whispered back, pushing himself further into the corner. “This closet isn’t big enough for- aw man, what is that smell, did you have garlic for breakfast?”

“On a potato. What’d you-” He didn’t have time to finish asking Hardison what the hell his waving had meant if it wasn’t “get over here I have a plan”. He whirled toward the door as the latch clicked, snapping a broom handle to arm himself with.

Parker pushed her way in, crowding against Hardison and stepping on Eliot’s foot. He swore under his breath and pushed her off. “What the hell, Parker?”

“Hardison looked like he had a plan.” He could feel her shrugging. “I didn’t want to miss the fun.”

“I don’t-“ Hardison yelped. Eliot clapped a hand over his mouth before he could attract more attention to their hiding place.

“Gross,” he whispered when Hardison licked his hand. “Stop that or you won’t have a tongue left.”

“How are you going to get it from him?” Parker asked. “He’d just bite you and-“

“Not the point,” Eliot growled under his breath. “If Hardison doesn’t have a plan-“

“I just wanted-“

“I don’t care,” Eliot snapped. “You don’t have a plan, I don’t have a plan, and Nate and Sophie probably heard you talking and are coming back here to eat our brains or whatever.”

They all froze as the room’s door creaked open and footsteps shuffled into the room.

“Way to go,” he whispered.

“If we can get up into the ceiling-“ Parker started. The shuffling was getting louder.

That was enough of a plan for him. He cupped his hands to give her a boost, Hardison steadying her from behind. Within seconds, she was up in the crawl space above the ceiling panels, and a rope came slithering down.

“I’m the computer guy,” Hardison whispered. “I don’t do climbing and ceilings.”

“If you don’t get up there-“ the doorknob to the closet started to rattle “-you’re not going to do breathing, either.”

He boosted Hardison up and ducked his kicking feet as Parker hauled him up. He pulled himself up the rope and just managed to get his feet up out of the way as the door to the closet opened, spilling in light and Nate’s rotting body.

“I did not sign up for this,” Hardison muttered as Parker wound up the rope and Eliot slid the ceiling panel back into place.

“Where were you hiding rope?” Eliot hissed at Parker. “We could’ve used that.”

“I keep it in the ceiling,” she said, clicking on a flashlight and shining it in Eliot’s eyes.

“Stop that.” He batted her hand away toward Hardison.

She shined the flashlight between the two of them, through a mass of wiring and dust bunnies. “This way to the hallway.”

THE END


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