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jendavisTitle: I Still Remember
Beta(s): amuly ♥, nevardevereaux ♥
Artists: cybel ♥, ryuutchi ♥
Characters/Pairings: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama, Post-Series
Warnings/spoilers: None.
Word Count:
Summary: Alec's been running his own crew for five years when Eliot reappears- on the other side of a job. Remembering someone, it turns out, isn't the same as knowing someone.
The Dow Chemical Processing and Storage plant is gleaming and pristine from the front, all glass and steel and tastefully tended gardens, but this isn't where Eliot's heading. He drives past the mostly-empty employee parking lots and follows the road around the shining offices to the dully functional industrial buildings on the back of the lot.
There's another route, here, for company trucks to move without marring the scenery at the front of the complex. Service roads feed out almost directly to the highway. It'll be easy to gain distance quickly, if it comes down to it, and he drives it twice to be sure. Three minutes to the highway. Good.
He parks, and the badge gets him through the doors easily enough, where he signs the visitor's log using the name Ferrara'd assigned him. The guard working the desk is Stevenson, pulling the double shift as expected. He's their in, but Eliot doesn't greet him, just slides the envelope across as he passes back the clipboard.
He wanders. There are five other people in the building. Two are on the janitorial and maintenance staff; three others are just working late. As long as they're not too overenthusiastic about their jobs, it's unlikely that any of them will be an issue. The security station for the complex is up in the main offices. As long as Ferrara's truck has the right tags on it, they'll only come out to this building twice, and they'll be well clear of it when he needs them to be.
There aren't any cameras in here that shouldn't be, and since the second half of Stevenson's princely fee isn't going to be delivered until they're leaving the premises, it's unlikely that Eliot's going to have to worry about anything besides the 7:30 and 10:30 sweeps.
"You find anything yet?" Hardison's been in his ear every five minutes since he left the hotel. It's starting to get aggravating.
"No. Same as last time you asked. No security that isn't showing up on the systems. Typical loading dock staging area. Concrete floors, some old tools and tanks along the walls. Need badges to get almost anywhere in here, though. You get the duplicates ready?"
"Yeah, one for each of us. Just dropping them off with Jason now."
"You guys ready for the exchange?"
"More than you'll ever know," Maria mutters. Ravi and Jason are discussing the best way to make the switch, and thankfully, Jason's less stupidly dramatic plan seems to be gaining ground. The Dow truck they're using for transport is already parked outside the warehouse- he and Fletcher had filled the back with enough boxes for cover this afternoon, and Aisha's in position to slip inside at a moment's notice.
There's a good spot up on the rafters in the corner; even if the security patrols look up at him, he's got good enough cover to take it.
Three more hours, now. It's going to be a long wait.
---
"We made the switch," Maria announces, and Alec allows himself a preemptive sigh of relief. They're not out of the woods, yet- she's still in the truck with 36 women who, before this morning, thought they were going to be handed off to an agent who will coordinate jobs, housing, and in a few cases, according to Aisha, marriages. But this morning's trade had meant tipping their hand to the women. They're going to be in protective custody for another day or so, and anything that comes after that is up to Eliot and Aisha's crew.
"Any problems?"
This time it's Aisha who answers. "Most of them figured out what was really going on with these guys before we were three days out at sea. They're tired, some of them are sick, and most of them are terrified and homesick, just want this to be over with. There are a few I'm keeping my eyes on, a little more resolved than the others, but so far, the others have been keeping them in check."
Alec wants to ask if they've got the means to actually do right by them. He's wary of the answer.
The one advantage of being stuck in the van- and man, it's been a while since he's been this far out of play- is that he doesn't have to request to be patched into B-08, Maria's comm.
"You get everything you need?"
"Yeah." She doesn't sound enthusiastic, but most of Alec's sympathy's already used up, knowing that she went so far off the script.
"Good. You doin' alright in there?"
The smile comes back into her voice. "Tired, bored, but as long as we pull this off, completely unrepentant."
"Good. Hang on to that, only a little while longer, okay?"
"Aye aye."
Switching to the team channel again, he asks "Tara, are you in position?"
"Just pinning on the badge, though I might need it to pin Jason's eyes back in his head if he doesn't stop ogling and get a move on."
"Give me a break, I just got here five minutes ago," he grumbles. "Hate these shoes. You sure you want me this far out of play? If things go south-"
"That's what I'm here for," Eliot grumbles. "Easier if you're not in the way."
"Hey, no offense, but you're the one still walking around with bruises all over your face. From Hardison"
Alec bites his tongue. Now is not the time to chime in, as much as he'd like to. "Jason, just get your ass in the cruiser, ya'll need to be ready to catch some bastards red handed. Ravi?"
"I got it. I get Maria out and to the van when they're loading everyone inside, ditch the bike- which had better still be there when the smoke clears, or I'll make all of your lives a living hell- and pick you up for the sale."
Eliot's the one to bring up the main thing Alec's been worrying about. "This buyer thing. You sure nobody important laid close eyes on you the other night?"
Maria's truck turns onto the road and passes by the van, and Alec tugs at his collar for the third time in as many minutes. "The foreman was the only one who saw me in full light. Everyone else was out in the yard, at a distance, in the dark, or some combination of the three. Does anybody else have any second guessing they'd like to get out of the way? Or can we get to work, here?"
---
The wire sticking out of the drain at the center of the room is nearly invisible, but the noise Hardison and Ravi had made drilling the path for it from the basement is still ringing in Eliot's ears, and if he doesn't stop staring at it, Ferrara's going to notice. Has to admit, though, it's a good trick, setting up an antenna in the middle of the room. With all the metal in here, he'd been concerned with interference on the comms.
Not that Hardison needs to hear about it. He'd been irritating enough, moving like clockwork with that Ravi kid, like this was something they did all the time.
Of course they have.
Eliot shakes himself. He can think about it later, or, better yet, not at all. Ferrara's car is pulling up outside. Eliot hurries across to meet him, but Ferrara's climbing straight up through the open loading dock, not the door to the parking lot..
"Where the hell you hurrying back from?" Ferrara brushes the dust off of his slacks as he stands, fixing Eliot with an irritated glance.
"Just checking our exits again." It's not a complete lie. "Some of the bolts look old, don't want to get locked in."
"Of course not." Ferrara grimaces. He always think's Kevin Jackson's being paranoid; Eliot's taken pains to ensure it. But there's something else, too, probably having to do with this entire situation getting changed up. Ferrara's good at adapting his game, but he clearly hasn't forgotten last night's close call with the police.
"Are we good?" he asks, watching as the truck's headlights turn towards them. Aisha, Maria, and the rest of the women will be here in less than a minute.
No. Eliot's Jackson, now, and they're dealing withcargo, and he's not supposed to worry about them as anything more than a product. He takes a steadying breath, centers himself. Katsaros and Fletcher are already climbing out of the cab, coming around to open the trailer.
Ferrara's too busy directing traffic to worry about the boxes in the truck, and the cargo comes off the back quietly. Whatever Aisha's told them, though, seems to be doing the trick. After three weeks, It's no secret to anyone that Aisha understands enough English to get help Ferrara's orders across, and the women are gathering in a cluster, straightening their clothes, passing a comb around. Making themselves presentable for the sale. Breath mints are being passed around, and Eliot wishes he didn't know that it's the first thing they've eaten since too early this morning.
Their fear is genuine enough- what little of the score they hadn't already known had been explained to them by Aisha when she and Maria had switched out- but thankfully, none of them are panicking.
Eliot wouldn't blame them if they did. Jackson can't give a fuck.
"Where the hell are they?" Fletcher's still probably fighting that headache he's had since Eliot slapped him awake this morning. His temper is as short as Ferrara's, and neither of them are even trying to hide it.
"Late."
There's no way nobody else isn't hearing this, not with the antenna they've got running, but the line is silent. "Damn it, Hardison," pressing the button, Eliot buries his growl in the noise of the garage door. As it closes, he can see the movement of cars and trucks, winding slowly closer with their headlights off, and then the road's blocked from view. There's no way to tell who's who yet, no way to tell who'll be first into the room.
If they're going to pull this off Hardison needs to be the first one Ferrara meets. He needs to have a few moments of his full attention if he wants to run the room for the duration, otherwise this won't work.
Now, if Hardison would just confirm that he's got his ass in gear-
The women are shouting.
Eliot spins, bringing his hand down to his sidearm- he'll take Ferrara's crew if he has to- but the women are running towards him in a crowd too thick to see through, shoving past him towards the side door next to the truck bay, but Fletcher's already there, blocking it.
One of them smells sweet, but there's this chemical tang in the air-
Shit.
The light's gone wrong, a little gray, a little hazy and Kevin Jackson's supposed to be helping keep these women in check, anyhow.
Forcing his way through, he tries to find Aisha, but she's been swallowed by the mass, she's a part of it now, and the garage door is opening now. She's probably got her finger on the button. The rest of the room is starting to fill up with smoke, different veins of white going to almost greenish gray.
Fletcher's rushing past, trying to get ahead to chase the women who'd already made it out, but it's too confused in here for him to even register that Eliot's the one who knocks him out. Katsaros, he's got no bead on. Ferrara's in the middle of the room, backing slowly away from the pink liquid seeping up from the drain. There's a crackling noise and a skittering feeling in the air.
The sparks in the middle are coming from Hardison's antenna.
"Damn it!"
The women are already pouring out into the bright parking lot outside. It takes Eliot a moment to see past the headlights to the red and blue flashing of police cars.
Tara and Jason had been in a cruiser, but it wasn't supposed to be coming for another fifteen or twenty minutes; he hadn't heard Hardison giving the signal, and besides. There are at least half a dozen cop cars coming pulling in, with paddy wagons closing up behind.
Fuck. This isn't good.
Cool it.
It could be worse. The women are getting out, Aisha's clear, and as far as he can tell, none of Hardison's crew is in the building.
They've probably already been picked up. Something went wrong, Someone got made, it's all going to hell..
Ferrara's shouting at him, pointing angrily at the mess on the floor, the way it's spread out to block their other exits. Even the stairs moving up to the office are cut off.
Behind him, he hears Katsaros getting arrested. He just needs a second to figure out another-
"Drop the gun, sir," a voice is ordering him, and honestly, Jason doesn't need to look that smug.
Eliot sets the gun down, doesn't resist as the cuffs are put on him. As soon as they're in the cruiser and clear of here, Hardison's never going to hear the end of this. It's a stupid fucking risk he took, here, changing the play without telling him. Running game with the police right there was bad enough; if nobody'd noticed the liquid seeping up before the first charge went though? Could've killed someone.
Jason shoves him off balance as they go down the steps. "Fuck you," Eliot spits, mostly because it's in character, but Jason only grins. And then shoves him towards another officer, waiting by the cars.
This one, Eliot doesn't recognize. As he's searched and mirandized, he comes to the quiet realization that he's just been double crossed. By Alec. Fucking. Hardison.
---
They're finally clear of Latimer. Nate's apartment's been bug-free for weeks, now, and nobody's shady past has come 'round checking up on them in months. On top of that, this last job's gone off without a hitch, plan courtesy of one Alec "Masterplan" Hardison. It's still actually kind of amazing. Alec's still mentally rewinding that part in the van, where Nate grudgingly admitted that yeah, he's got it down now. That he could probably run his own crew, if he wanted to.
Not that he does, or anything. Not now, at least. He'd told Nate as much, and for some reason the dude had frowned. Then Parker had come on comms to announce that she was coming out with a suitcase of stolen cash. Enough to set up the three victims for life and then some.
Maybe that's what's got Parker in such a good mood, why she'd caught him on the way in and asked if she could come over tonight, once they're done here. Like maybe she's had enough time to think about things. Or maybe she just wants company while she watches cartoons. Either's fine, he reminds himself. Both beat sitting at his apartment wondering if he's making a mistake, pushing her the way he's been doing. Hoping for... something. Whatever it is. It's totally cool. It's good.
Besides, Eliot's done up carnitas and rice, and the mole sauce is awesome, and Alec's just kind of riding the high of everything when Sophie drops the bombshell.
"I'm pregnant."
Nate comes in with a flanking attack. "We're getting married next month."
Alec's actually not all that surprised, considering, and it's not too hard to work his congratulations in with the others. Parker's bouncing in her chair and staring- hard- at Sophie's still-flat belly, as if she won't believe it until she sees it, and it's clear by her face that she's not sure whether to be happy or horrified. Sophie's too much the center of attention to do anything but laugh along, and Nate's beaming.
He's got his fork halfway to his mouth, losing Sophie's trail as she talks excitedly about her first trip to the doctor, when he realizes that, yeah, no kidding, things really are about to change.
Eliot's grinning too, but after a few minutes- maybe it's the silence coming from his end of the table, maybe it's nothing at all- Alec turns to notice that he's not actually just staring off into space, he's watching everyone just a little too clearly. Like he's trying to save this in his head, fix it in his memory.
And he knows without asking what one of the changes is going to be. Eliot's going to leave, soon.
Alec's not hungry any more, but he clears his plate. The food's cold when he's finished. He doesn't know how many dinners they have left together. Spends most of his time trying to keep his mouth shut, not sure what's going to come out if it opens.
Afterwards, walking up the stairs to his apartment. Parker tries kissing him. They're both trying really hard to like it. Sometimes it's just one of those things, comes with practice.
They sit next to each other on the couch and watch Family Guy and don't look each other in the eye the rest of the night. When she leaves- and she always leaves, and probably always will always move just as quickly when she goes- he doesn't get up. Just stares at his phone on the table, thinking about calling someone. Eliot's the only one he can think of. Just because he's probably still up. But the odds that he's just waiting to hear all Alec's bullshit are admittedly slim.
---
"He's going to kill you, you know."
"No, he won't." It's a little easier to sound confident of the fact knowing that Eliot's turned his comms off. "He's going to be very surly. And possibly even angry. But this was the best play and he knows it."
"You sure about that? 'Cause right now it looks like you're letting him go down with Ferrara."
"Well yeah. Because that's what it is. Besides. I'm sure he would've done this, anyway. If he'd thought about it."
"You ever stop to think there's a reason why maybe he didn't?"
"For the same reasons none of us ever have the idea of getting our asses arrested. So are we ready or not?"
"Yeah," Maria sighs. "Sending it to your phone now."
"Good."
Alec steps out of his car and strides into the precinct offices. The lobby is empty at this time of night, and the night shift officer on the other side of the glass is looking at him warily.
"Hello," Alec nods, sliding his badge underneath the glass, and then a manila folder. The duty officer, Cortes, slides it open, her eyebrows shooting up as she sees what it is.
"Just got word that one of our agents was arrested a few hours ago. I need him sprung, and it needs to happen quietly. Here's the paperwork, it'll spell everything out."
"He's working undercover?"
"Months now, yeah. Been out in the cold too long, we were starting to worry. On the off chance his cover's not blown, yet, we needed to play this out clean. Same reason you managed to fill most of your drunk tank with half a dozen Interpol warrants off of one DUI checkpoint at 9:30 this evening."
Cortes blinks, breaking into a grin of recognition. It never takes long for word to spread between the precincts. "Of course." She scans through the report to find a selection of signatures that should've taken Alec days to collect if they'd been real.
"Is he in holding yet?"
"Yes, sir," Cortes slides his badge back to him and hits the switch that opens the door into the offices. "The probable cause hearing's set for tomorrow afternoon, but our guys have been working him a little, trying to get him to talk. It's been a confusing night. Well. You know."
"I hear you," Alec grins. As a Federal Agent, he's been in this situation hundreds of times. It's all true, except for the fact that it's all false. He steps through the door, follows Cortes down past cubicles towards the back of the bullpen.
"The women?"
"They're at the hospital," Cortes says. "Most of them were suffering from dehydration at least. Buys us at least enough time before the Chief decides how to proceed. They're safe, though. And we've got seventeen people in custody. Half of them are downtown, since we don't have the room to keep them all separated in here."
"Good work," Alec agrees, trying to keep the surprise from his voice. The police do, on occasion, get it right.
Through the cross-hatching reinforcement on the interview room's small window, he sees Eliot glaring back at him over the head of some detective.
The next half hour would go by quickly, were it not for the fact that Eliot's glares, apparently, have the power to stop time indefinitely. Finally, however, papers are signed, scanned, and entered into the system, and Eliot's pacing ahead out of the precinct, hands in his pockets. It's not until they reach Alec's car that Eliot explodes.
"Seriously?"
"What? It's all true, ain't it? You're an operative, working under cover, and your crew-"' He's interrupted by the punch to the jaw.
"Fuck you."
And yeah, he's kind of had that one bought and paid for already- it's why there's an ice pack waiting in the cooler on the back seat already- but this shit is getting old.
"You done?"
Eliot bares his teeth. "Not by half."
"You getting into the car, at least?"
Eliot's jaw is set, but he stalks around the front of the car and waits a full five seconds after the door's unlocked to get in. Jaws clenched like that, there's no way in hell he's going to be the one to speak first.
Fine.
"Was I supposed to trust you? I mean, seriously. Was anything you did in the past two days supposed to put me at my ease, here? You needed our help, but weren't exactly easy with the details. That much I can forgive, the entire classified black ops thing. That, I get. But you went behind my back and put one of my crew at risk."
"So you changed the play, had me arrested?"
"I had you arrested to keep your cover in play. If what you're saying is true, then you might need Kevin Jackson again fairly soon, right?"
"How would it have been a problem for me to know the play in advance?" Offended realization dawns over his face. "You needed to see which way I'd jump."
"Well, that, and because I also wanted to capture your prints. I've got them, Eliot. You're in the system, and how this plays out over the next little while is what's going to determine what I do with them."
"Fuck you," Eliot grumbles. A mile goes by before he continues. "So fine, whatever. You and me, apparently we're still not square. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to get on the phone with your people. That backup you've got coming in. And I want them to make sure they know that deporting the women back to the hell they came from isn't their only option."
Eliot's staring at him, heavy. When he speaks, his voice is low, gravelly, but there's a smirk in it, somewhere. "You seriously think we've got an operation this big because we're looking to just toss them back, so they can get caught up in it again?"
"Do you have the means to get papers for all of them?"
Eliot rolls his eyes in disbelief. "Yes, actually. We do."
It's the first surprising truly surprising thing Eliot's said in five years.
---
"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Eliot sips the beer Nate's got waiting for him on the bar, knowing full well that it's a bribe, something to get him to sit still long enough to hear him out.
It's not like they've got anything more important to do right now, anyway. There's two days before the wedding, and Sophie and Parker have dragged Hardison out to run errands. Something about a dress fitting that he'd been complaining about, though his complaints had been drowned out by Parker's. At least none of them were having a good time, either.
"What happens next," Nate's eyes don't move from the baseball game happening on the TV above the bar. He's not enjoying this either, whatever this is. "Hardison and Parker want to keep the crew going, and you're packing your bags. I was just wondering why."
Eliot's been ready for this for a while now. "Us three doing the work of us five just ain't viable, Nate, and you know it."
"Those two doing the work of five is even less so," Nate points out. "And Sophie and I won't have any trouble consulting, we're just. Out of the field."
"I know." It's weird, hearing him say it. Even with the wedding happening in three days, it still doesn't feel real.
"So what's the answer that you didn't have rehearsed?"
Eliot shakes his head. It figures he wouldn't be getting off so easily. No need to drag this out, anyway. Still, he waits for Cora to return to the other end of the bar before speaking. "Belgrade."
Nate barely reacts. There's something flashing in his eyes, then it's gone. He's not surprised by the answer, only that he's getting one.
"I'm sorry about that."
"Not saying you need to be. That was a bad scene. You hadn't tipped the cops off, Moreau would've been the least of my problems."
Nate's sitting up straighter on his stool, realization dawning on his face, and his face is shockingly apologetic when he faces Eliot. "I'm sorry. I never. Didn't realize. Liam Kenny. You went solo after that."
"Stop it. You kept me out of it, kept up your end of the deal. If you and I had issues you would've known about 'em a long time ago. And I was never in this for the romance."
His beer's there, to keep himself from saying anything more, but it gives Nate time to think, too.
"Eliot, can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"Hardison. His thing with Parker, and ah. You. Are you saying... Is that what this is about?"
"Doesn't matter." There isn't enough beer in his glass- not enough in this entire bar- to save him from this. Nate's still watching him. "Seriously. No. Yeah. I don't know." And that's the bitch of it. Because it's true, he doesn't have a clue, just this great big Maybe that's been floating around his ideas of Hardison for months, now.
Hissing, Nate's suddenly swiveling, blinking at the bottles behind the bar in mortified surprise. He's overselling it, and Eliot knows his own laugh is forced, but even if there's this weird tearing in his chest going on, at least it's Nate's turn to be awkward about it.
"No kidding," he mutters wryly into his beer, his eyes following Nate's to the mirror behind the top shelf bottles.
Hardison's shocked reflection is staring back at him, from only three feet away.
----
At this point, there's no sense holding out on Hardison. He's going to put the pieces together when the others arrive, anyhow. "Senator Ferrara. He's sponsoring the girls on the down low."
"And I'm only hearing about this now because..?" At least Hardison's done with the shouting for now. Small silver lining.
"If it were made public that he's helping out a small international nonprofit that way, where would the attention land next?" It's been a while, but he remembers. Talk Hardison through it, make him think, he'll never miss a thing.
If Hardison could figure out a way to kick himself without crashing the car, he'd probably be doing it now. "On the operation itself." He's nodding to himself, going over it and fitting the pieces in with whatever it is that he already knows, and he's finally silent, now. Sensing that he's bought himself a few minutes before the next bout, Eliot digs his cell out of his pocket to call Aisha. Turns out, she's already in the loop.
"So," he says, once he's finished filling in the gaps. "We're heading out. You want us to come pick you up at the hospital?"
"No, I'm staying with them until it's over." There's something in her voice that Eliot's not used to hearing. It's concern. Then again, three weeks locked in cages will breed a certain camaraderie. Hell, that's how he'd met Aisha, the first time. "The hospital's short on translators at this time of night. You know how it is."
Eliot doesn't have a clue. "They're all okay? No burns or anything?" He catches Hardison's quick sidelong glance, but can't read it with nothing more than the dashboard lights to go by.
"Not even smoke inhalation. Dehydration, a little malnutrition and a few mild issues, but on the whole, they're coming out all right. Nervous, still, but they're not going to stop worrying about being deported until they actually get those papers in their hands. You talk to Sheridan about that yet?"
"I'll call the boss man in a bit," Eliot says. "So, Nurse Grace, You want us to bring y'all anything?" Hardison, for some reason, is swiveling his head and staring at him, and it's distracting until he realizes why. But it's not important.
"I've got it for now," Aisha's saying. "But hit me up in the morning. I'm going to need cash for a hotel where I can shower properly and sleep for days."
"Sure thing."
They sign off, and Hardison gives it a mile before raising his eyebrows at him. "You want to head back to the hotel?"
"Sure."
It's nearly three, but he's not ready to sleep, and honestly, a beer in the hotel bar is in order. And he and Hardison probably aren't done hashing this shit out yet; he doesn't even know if he's supposed to consider him a friend, now, to be honest. But maybe they're over the worst of it. Maybe Hardison will say yes.
He debates for the twenty minutes it takes for the hotel to come into sight. He's doesn't even know if he's going to go through with it until Hardison's slowing the car down.
"Bar time here's still four, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then park this thing." It's easiest to steal something if you already believe it's yours. "We're not done arguing, and you owe me a beer."
"What? I did just spring you from the pokey. Beer ought to be flowin' the other way, man."
"Yeah, well. You're the one who had me arrested in the first place."
Hardison keeps it deadpan for a moment before grinning so widely at him that Eliot's sure he doesn't deserve it. "Fair enough."
Rolling his eyes, Eliot gets out of the car. "Seriously? The pokey?"
---
Between the late hour, the second round of beers, and the fact that they'd just busted a trafficking ring, the argument's lost most of the sharp edges. It doesn't mean they're quite done, though.
And Alec's working out how to stretch it until last call before he realizes that he's doing it. "Hey," he shrugs. "You know as well as I did that it was going to be harder keeping everyone safe when the buyers arrived. It was easier just to stick with your original plan. It was solid man."
Eliot's scowl is sarcastic, nothing special there, nothing new, but the laughter's reaching his eyes and he'd missed that. "You're what, Mr. Safety now? My plan didn't involve electrocuting people with Kool-Aid."
"Details, man. Style." Alec doesn't point out that the voltage was so low the worst jolt anyone would've gotten was less than a static shock from a carpeted floor. It's too much fun watching Eliot freak out.
---
This lull they're in isn't getting any shorter, but Eliot's gone ahead and ordered another round for the both of them. Seems as safe a time to ask as any.
"So. What've you been up to for the past five years?"
Eliot snorts into his glass. "Exactly what you're thinking I've been doing. Few government jobs, a few private ones. You remember Flores in San Lorenzo?" Hardison nods "Some of his contacts over at the UN needed some off the books work done, I took the gig. I was finishing up a job in Beirut when the deal with the Senator happened. That was about two years ago, now. Had a few months to set up, and been living as Jackson for the past year and a half."
"Right on." Alec grins, relaxes just a bit more. Maybe the beer's finally helping. "When did Nurse Gale come on board?"
"Hell, she was working for them back before that day at McRory's." Eliot twists the neck of his half-full bottle between his fingers. "What about you, what've you been doin'?"
"Exactly what you're thinking I've been doing," he smirks. "Started pulling the team together pretty quick. Maria came on first, then Parker tipped us off to Ravi. Been through a few hitters. One just got tired of the game and quit, but most've 'em just sucked. Jason's workin' out real well, though."
"He's got some moves," Eliot eventually allows, in a terse sort of way that's probably hitter for don't tell him I said that. "When did Tara come on board?"
"She... She's not a regular, or nothing. She just sometimes helps out while she's in the area, in between marks. Flew her in once or twice when we really needed a cute blonde to play roper. This time 'round, though, she was in the area. Transporting some stuff for Parker, actually."
Maybe it's a misstep, if Eliot's thought processes are anything like Alec's. Because if it's Parker, then it's Alec and Parker, and it's Eliot leaving because of- whatever. Alec's had five years to get over this. Or at least get better at it, but it's not like he can just come out and say, Hey, Eliot. You remember that time I heard you say, "No. Yeah. I don't know?" And I stared at you like an idiot and we avoided each other and you left? Yeah, about that...
But once again, Eliot's thought processes are his own. "Is Parker the one who's been going after all the looted pieces from the Iraqi museums?"
It's an informational question, not dangerously edging on personal. This, he can deal with, even with as far from left field as it's coming. "Yeah."
"Good." Something in Eliot relaxes, or maybe Alec's just imagining it. "Was really hoping so."
"Why?"
Eliot frowns, thinking, then he's apparently remembered. "Was at this party, building up my profile, working towards Ferrara, who was there that night. It was at this, ah...politico's place. In Portugal. I'd wandered out onto an empty balcony to get some air, heard something that sounded like her rappelling anchor running up on the roof overhead. Very distinctive sound." He smirks. "Anyway, by the time I looked, I only saw, like, feet, swinging over onto the roof and then nothing. The guards came by looking ten seconds later."
Alec frowns, ready to attack if need be. "And you were hoping it was her?"
"Yeah. Anyone else would've gotten caught. And what they would've had waiting for them? Not cool."
"So what happened?"
"They searched all the guests, few people got roughed up, but they didn't find anything." Eliot sips his beer, the topic, as far as he's concerned, is evidently closed. "Where is she, anyhow?" His eyes dart away, searching the bar like he's expecting her to pop up at his elbow, and the bullet Alec's been thinking he's dodged through this entire conversation ricochets right back at him. "You two still...?"
"Me an' her only lasted a few weeks after you left."
He wishes he'd rephrased it the moment it's said. He's not trying to pin it on Eliot, especially not when he's sitting across the table, half-grinning in something like sympathy. "It was for the best. We're cool. Grab dinner when she's in town, and we all get together at Sophie and Nate's for Christmas when we can. She's got something going on with Apollo, past few years, brings him around sometimes."
"Seriously?" Eliot's eyes widen in mild surprise before narrowing again. "Actually, I can see it."
Alec really wants to turn the question around, but he's a little too invested in the answer to actually want to hear the answer. "Both of them came out last winter. He got all dressed up as Santa for Mona and Frankie. Parker did the elf thing."
"Mona and Frankie," Eliot repeats thoughtfully before shaking his head. "What about you? Sophie make you dress up like a reindeer or something?"
"Nah. I was manning the cameras. Took copious amounts of embarrassing video."
"Who was embarrassed?"
"Everyone, probably. I can show you sometime, if you want."
"Sure."
Alec blinks. "For real?"
"Didn't even know there was a second kid, and I ain't ever seen the first one. Kinda curious," Eliot's eyes slide away, and Alec wonders exactly what his life's been looking like, wants to know all the things he's not telling him. Conversation halts again as the waitress comes by for last call, and Alec orders another set before Eliot can stop him. Just in case he's planning on trying.
---
...2725 Mauris Avenue, Number 43. 961-219-4532. 483 Lorem Road, East Lothian. 0131-665-8299...
The waitress comes back, tells them that they're closing up shop, but Eliot's escape won't be immediate. He and Hardison are loitering in the lobby, with the bland couches and fake plants and desk clerk who's pretending not to watch them over the counter.
"So," Hardison says, turning their handshake into a quick hug that's too quick and too distant to mean anything at all. "You'll keep in touch this time around, yeah?"
"Yeah," Eliot repeats, scanning him for signs of inebriation. "You're okay to drive?"
"Only had three beers," Hardison says, sounding so much like Nate- so practiced and detached about the matter- that it's a little unnerving. But there's more, too. A flash of nerves, too slowly hidden. "I'm good."
If he pushes it, Hardison's definitely going to think he's hitting on him.
"All right," Eliot hears himself saying. "Cool. Well. Good night, man. Good luck."
"Thanks. You too." Already stepping back and away, he nods enthusiastically, speaks too loudly. The girl at the counter doesn't have to strain herself to listen. "I'll see you around, right?"
"Yeah. See ya."
---
It's been a long day.
Exhausting.
And even with the three beers, Eliot can't stop staring at the ceiling, trying to identify what the fuck it is that he's feeling.
---
Three blocks from the hotel, Alec has to pull over, freak out for a minute, before very calmly signaling and pulling back into traffic.
He's being ridiculous. That, back there, wasn't anything. It wasn't worth panicking about. It's not.
---
Maria, who'd come in expecting to spend this gorgeous afternoon falsifying immigration documents, is especially thrilled to be cut loose so soon, and Alec's pretending not to notice Ravi hurrying to catch up to her before she's gone, or the sudden drop in volume of their conversation. Jason's not blind either, he hangs back a minute at the table, watching out of the corner of his eye. Once the door's shut, he stands, grabbing his coat.
"You see that Eliot dude again, tell him I'm down for a rematch." Grabbing his coat, he winks at Tara, flashes them both the peace sign, and heads for the stairs.
Tara's still sipping at her coffee, and this must be what Nate felt like, all the time, waiting for everyone to clear out so he could think in silence. She's got her purse on the table and her keys out, though. Five more minutes, and he'll have the office to himself.
"So. You doing all right?"
Or maybe not. This is starting to look like a dark cloud on an otherwise sunny day.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why you askin'?"
"Because you just spent the past two days in an amazing display of head game brinkmanship with Eliot Spencer?"
"Whatever," Alec starts, but he's cut off by the ringing of the phone. Smirking, he holds the phone up so she can read the name on the caller ID.
She's standing in an instant, purse and keys in hand, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead before pinching his cheek like he's one of Sophie's kids. "Send him my love, and if you don't call me soon with gossip, you'd better call me soon with a job."
He tries not to grin as he turns to answer the phone.
"Hey, man, what's up?"
Behind him, the door's closing. It's just him and Eliot now, and it's suddenly awkward.
"Ah. I'm leaving town. Just wanted you to know, everything's getting handled. Aisha's saying that the foundation taking care of getting them set up with housing and resources and stuff already has their paperwork, if you're wanting to check up on them or anything."
"What's the foundation called?"
"What, you're telling me you can't hack it?" He doesn't know if the chiding's supposed to make him so pathetically grateful, but it's happening.
"You fall on your head or something? Course I can."
"Didn't think so." There's something vaguely resembling a gibberish human voice in the background. Eliot's at the airport already, and it's not the sort of thing that's supposed to send Alec's stomach to plummeting. "Anyhow. Look. About the past few days. Know we had punches and beers and all, but I wanted to make sure we're cool before I head out."
This time. Neither of them say the words, but Alec's probably not the only one hearing them. "Nah, man, we're good. Long as you don't wait five years to say hi again."
"You've got my number."
"That I do. Everything work out okay on your end?"
"Yeah. Have to do a little finessing things, here. Fletcher's singing like a canary, angling for a better deal, so we've got a shot at taking down the last parts of the extended network if we move fast. Nobody's getting out any time soon, but word spreads, you know? If I'm fast, though, Kevin Jackson's got enough left in him to get back into play."
"Glad to hear it." That awkwardness is ballooning again, and again, it's his own damned fault. "And hey, listen. I know this didn't work out smooth, but if you need anything, hit me up, I got your back, no questions asked."
"Will do," Eliot's voice goes quiet. "Thanks." There's this pause where one of them is probably supposed to be saying something, but Alec only hears the public address system bleeding through. "They're calling my flight. Gotta go."
"Right on. Good luck, man."
"Thanks. You too."
Alec hesitates, but he's still not certain he's the last one to hang up.
---
Eliot's standing next to him, at Nate's right during the ceremony, but he might as well be a million miles away already. Two days, and they've said nothing to each other. At all.
Eliot might as well be gone already.
Beyond Sophie's amazingly complicated dress, Alec can just make out Parker, struggling not to fidget with her flowers, anxious and bored. Tara's eyes never move from the ceremony, but her attention's on Parker as well.
It's amazing, the number of people who've come. Cora's family and Nate's ex-wife. Lieutenant Bonnano and a smattering of Nate's (mostly legitimate) and Sophie's (mostly criminal) friends. Hell, even Sterling's sent a card.
Only another thousand hours of this, and they'll be on their way to McRory's for the reception. Soon as they send the newlyweds-and isn't that strange- on their way to their honeymoon, well. It'll all be over.
Because it's not like Eliot's going to be sticking around, afterwards. One show only. No encores. And his bags are already packed, in the back of his truck.
Alec hasn't even been able to get him alone long enough to ask if he wants him to keep an eye on the house when he leaves. Probably because that's not the only question Alec's got in mind; it's just the opener. After that? It gets weird.
Parker's in on the con, though she doesn't know why. It probably do much good, since Eliot's expecting it, but it might be enough to catch him for five minutes. That's all he needs. Just five. But there's hours and hours to get through between here and there. Before he can talk to the guy standing a foot and a half to his left, ramrod straight, eyes boring into the stained glass behind the altar.
Pictures are taken- smile for the camera, pretend like this isn't the last time they're going to be in the same city- and he's sorting out rides and directions and making small talk with near strangers, and finally, everyone's in place when Mr. and Mrs. Ford- that'll never sound right- are walking in the front door of McRory's to thundering applause.
Eliot pulls off his speech amazingly well. It's the most words he's said in days. Tara's is better, though. She doesn't have to keep looking at her cards. And then, finally, Alec can lose the tie because the reception's in full swing.
There are too many nooks and crannies in this place to keep an eye on Eliot, make sure he's not gone, but Alec's got allies. Nate and Sophie do what they can to orchestrate a conversation, Tara's a little more tricky and Parker, as it turns out, is a whole lot less subtle.
"Figure this out," she glares at both of them, brandishing Eliot's stolen keys and shoving them into a booth. "Both of you."
And it's stupid and pointless and he can't think of what he wanted to say in the first place. Eliot's not looking like he wants much to talk, either. He's actually looking everywhere but Alec, but eventually his annoyance wins out.
"What do you want?"
"Me? Ain't it obvious? Figured you and me need to talk, unless you wanted to ride out of town feeling like a jackass."
"So talk."
At least Parker hadn't taken their beers away. They're useful props, and Eliot's irritation is barely covering his nervousness. He actually looks like he could use a drink. And that's when it hits him. What he'd been about to do. Because Eliot's into dudes. That's one thing. But Eliot's possibly into him, and that's... it doesn't have to be a whole other cluster-fuck, but getting loud about it in the middle of a wedding reception isn't the way to handle it.
"Five minutes, okay? That's all I'm asking."
"Fine."
"You don't have to go."
Eliot smirks. "Is that it?"
"In a nutshell."
"I'm going." He sips at his beer- it looks like the same one he's been nursing all night, but Alec's not sure- then looks at him for the first time. "Nothing personal, okay? You and me, we're cool. And I'll write, visit, whatever, but I'm leaving tonight."
"Anything I can say to change your mind?"
Apparently it doesn't warrant anything more than a shake of the head. He's tempted again to bring up the Carters, and their sick kid. It looks like an easy job, and he and Parker are heading down to Tempe next week to handle it, but it seems low. Pathetic, and more importantly, ineffective.
He doesn't know how not to feel guilty about this. There's a part of him that's considering breaking it off with Parker entirely just to make him stay. As if that isn't the stupidly cruelest thing he's ever contemplated.
It does feel like he's giving up without a fight, though. But he'd already expected as much. The papers in his pocket only prove it.
"Okay. Here it is, then. One. You always got a place with us, whenever you want, no questions asked." He slips the paper out of his pocket and slides it across the table. "You already know my email address. Here's every way you don't already know for how to get a hold of me. You call any of these numbers, I'll answer. And that place I picked up in Manhattan last spring's there on the end. You run into any trouble at all, you let me know."
Eliot frowns. He'd probably much rather have the fight, not this capitulation, but Alec can't give him what he wants. Doesn't even know if either of them honestly want him to, and this is all he can come up with. After a few moments, Eliot takes the paper, slips it into his jacket without looking at it. Long as he doesn't look, it's not real. Neither of them have to deal with it.
"Thanks." Apologetically, he adds, "I don't know where I'm going to be, here, so I can't-" his fingers twitch towards the pocket Alec's ignoring. "You know. But thanks. For this. And everything."
Nate and Sophie look like they're beat, Parker's rushing over to open the doors, warn the driver. Eliot's been neglecting his duties.
Alec's out of the booth first, though. He's there when Eliot stands.
"So this is it, I guess."
"Yeah."
Alec grabs him, pulls him into a tight hug. "It's been real, man. You even try being a stranger and I'm gonna come after your ass, you got that?"
"Yeah. Take care of yourself."
"You too."
And Eliot's sharing a glance with Nate, clapping his hands loudly and getting everyone's attention. It's time to send them off. Eliot's the first one to hug them both.
Alec claps loud, hard enough that his palms sting. And watches with everyone as Nate and Sophie make their exit, out to the limo that's waiting out front. Sophie still doesn't even know where they're going, Alec's made sure of that much. But she's going to absolutely love it.
By the time they've cleared the door, he's turning. The door into the back room is swinging shut over a flash of tan satin. Parker's bridesmaid's dress, moving quickly. By the time he makes it back, cracks it open, all he sees is Eliot and her breaking leaning in towards each other, talking quietly.
It's Eliot's last goodbye, and whatever's said isn't any of Alec's business. He hugs her, she shoves his keys at him, and then he's gone.
She's crying when she turns around. Crashes into Alec's arms easily enough. He doesn't know it yet, but it doesn't fix a thing.
For a while, they hold it together. The Carters get their money back from the insurance company, their kid's getting his treatment. Parker and him, they can barely look at each other.
Three weeks after the wedding, it's their last goodbye too.
Chapter 5
Beta(s): amuly ♥, nevardevereaux ♥
Artists: cybel ♥, ryuutchi ♥
Characters/Pairings: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Drama, Post-Series
Warnings/spoilers: None.
Word Count:
Summary: Alec's been running his own crew for five years when Eliot reappears- on the other side of a job. Remembering someone, it turns out, isn't the same as knowing someone.
The Dow Chemical Processing and Storage plant is gleaming and pristine from the front, all glass and steel and tastefully tended gardens, but this isn't where Eliot's heading. He drives past the mostly-empty employee parking lots and follows the road around the shining offices to the dully functional industrial buildings on the back of the lot.
There's another route, here, for company trucks to move without marring the scenery at the front of the complex. Service roads feed out almost directly to the highway. It'll be easy to gain distance quickly, if it comes down to it, and he drives it twice to be sure. Three minutes to the highway. Good.
He parks, and the badge gets him through the doors easily enough, where he signs the visitor's log using the name Ferrara'd assigned him. The guard working the desk is Stevenson, pulling the double shift as expected. He's their in, but Eliot doesn't greet him, just slides the envelope across as he passes back the clipboard.
He wanders. There are five other people in the building. Two are on the janitorial and maintenance staff; three others are just working late. As long as they're not too overenthusiastic about their jobs, it's unlikely that any of them will be an issue. The security station for the complex is up in the main offices. As long as Ferrara's truck has the right tags on it, they'll only come out to this building twice, and they'll be well clear of it when he needs them to be.
There aren't any cameras in here that shouldn't be, and since the second half of Stevenson's princely fee isn't going to be delivered until they're leaving the premises, it's unlikely that Eliot's going to have to worry about anything besides the 7:30 and 10:30 sweeps.
"You find anything yet?" Hardison's been in his ear every five minutes since he left the hotel. It's starting to get aggravating.
"No. Same as last time you asked. No security that isn't showing up on the systems. Typical loading dock staging area. Concrete floors, some old tools and tanks along the walls. Need badges to get almost anywhere in here, though. You get the duplicates ready?"
"Yeah, one for each of us. Just dropping them off with Jason now."
"You guys ready for the exchange?"
"More than you'll ever know," Maria mutters. Ravi and Jason are discussing the best way to make the switch, and thankfully, Jason's less stupidly dramatic plan seems to be gaining ground. The Dow truck they're using for transport is already parked outside the warehouse- he and Fletcher had filled the back with enough boxes for cover this afternoon, and Aisha's in position to slip inside at a moment's notice.
There's a good spot up on the rafters in the corner; even if the security patrols look up at him, he's got good enough cover to take it.
Three more hours, now. It's going to be a long wait.
---
"We made the switch," Maria announces, and Alec allows himself a preemptive sigh of relief. They're not out of the woods, yet- she's still in the truck with 36 women who, before this morning, thought they were going to be handed off to an agent who will coordinate jobs, housing, and in a few cases, according to Aisha, marriages. But this morning's trade had meant tipping their hand to the women. They're going to be in protective custody for another day or so, and anything that comes after that is up to Eliot and Aisha's crew.
"Any problems?"
This time it's Aisha who answers. "Most of them figured out what was really going on with these guys before we were three days out at sea. They're tired, some of them are sick, and most of them are terrified and homesick, just want this to be over with. There are a few I'm keeping my eyes on, a little more resolved than the others, but so far, the others have been keeping them in check."
Alec wants to ask if they've got the means to actually do right by them. He's wary of the answer.
The one advantage of being stuck in the van- and man, it's been a while since he's been this far out of play- is that he doesn't have to request to be patched into B-08, Maria's comm.
"You get everything you need?"
"Yeah." She doesn't sound enthusiastic, but most of Alec's sympathy's already used up, knowing that she went so far off the script.
"Good. You doin' alright in there?"
The smile comes back into her voice. "Tired, bored, but as long as we pull this off, completely unrepentant."
"Good. Hang on to that, only a little while longer, okay?"
"Aye aye."
Switching to the team channel again, he asks "Tara, are you in position?"
"Just pinning on the badge, though I might need it to pin Jason's eyes back in his head if he doesn't stop ogling and get a move on."
"Give me a break, I just got here five minutes ago," he grumbles. "Hate these shoes. You sure you want me this far out of play? If things go south-"
"That's what I'm here for," Eliot grumbles. "Easier if you're not in the way."
"Hey, no offense, but you're the one still walking around with bruises all over your face. From Hardison"
Alec bites his tongue. Now is not the time to chime in, as much as he'd like to. "Jason, just get your ass in the cruiser, ya'll need to be ready to catch some bastards red handed. Ravi?"
"I got it. I get Maria out and to the van when they're loading everyone inside, ditch the bike- which had better still be there when the smoke clears, or I'll make all of your lives a living hell- and pick you up for the sale."
Eliot's the one to bring up the main thing Alec's been worrying about. "This buyer thing. You sure nobody important laid close eyes on you the other night?"
Maria's truck turns onto the road and passes by the van, and Alec tugs at his collar for the third time in as many minutes. "The foreman was the only one who saw me in full light. Everyone else was out in the yard, at a distance, in the dark, or some combination of the three. Does anybody else have any second guessing they'd like to get out of the way? Or can we get to work, here?"
---
The wire sticking out of the drain at the center of the room is nearly invisible, but the noise Hardison and Ravi had made drilling the path for it from the basement is still ringing in Eliot's ears, and if he doesn't stop staring at it, Ferrara's going to notice. Has to admit, though, it's a good trick, setting up an antenna in the middle of the room. With all the metal in here, he'd been concerned with interference on the comms.
Not that Hardison needs to hear about it. He'd been irritating enough, moving like clockwork with that Ravi kid, like this was something they did all the time.
Of course they have.
Eliot shakes himself. He can think about it later, or, better yet, not at all. Ferrara's car is pulling up outside. Eliot hurries across to meet him, but Ferrara's climbing straight up through the open loading dock, not the door to the parking lot..
"Where the hell you hurrying back from?" Ferrara brushes the dust off of his slacks as he stands, fixing Eliot with an irritated glance.
"Just checking our exits again." It's not a complete lie. "Some of the bolts look old, don't want to get locked in."
"Of course not." Ferrara grimaces. He always think's Kevin Jackson's being paranoid; Eliot's taken pains to ensure it. But there's something else, too, probably having to do with this entire situation getting changed up. Ferrara's good at adapting his game, but he clearly hasn't forgotten last night's close call with the police.
"Are we good?" he asks, watching as the truck's headlights turn towards them. Aisha, Maria, and the rest of the women will be here in less than a minute.
No. Eliot's Jackson, now, and they're dealing withcargo, and he's not supposed to worry about them as anything more than a product. He takes a steadying breath, centers himself. Katsaros and Fletcher are already climbing out of the cab, coming around to open the trailer.
Ferrara's too busy directing traffic to worry about the boxes in the truck, and the cargo comes off the back quietly. Whatever Aisha's told them, though, seems to be doing the trick. After three weeks, It's no secret to anyone that Aisha understands enough English to get help Ferrara's orders across, and the women are gathering in a cluster, straightening their clothes, passing a comb around. Making themselves presentable for the sale. Breath mints are being passed around, and Eliot wishes he didn't know that it's the first thing they've eaten since too early this morning.
Their fear is genuine enough- what little of the score they hadn't already known had been explained to them by Aisha when she and Maria had switched out- but thankfully, none of them are panicking.
Eliot wouldn't blame them if they did. Jackson can't give a fuck.
"Where the hell are they?" Fletcher's still probably fighting that headache he's had since Eliot slapped him awake this morning. His temper is as short as Ferrara's, and neither of them are even trying to hide it.
"Late."
There's no way nobody else isn't hearing this, not with the antenna they've got running, but the line is silent. "Damn it, Hardison," pressing the button, Eliot buries his growl in the noise of the garage door. As it closes, he can see the movement of cars and trucks, winding slowly closer with their headlights off, and then the road's blocked from view. There's no way to tell who's who yet, no way to tell who'll be first into the room.
If they're going to pull this off Hardison needs to be the first one Ferrara meets. He needs to have a few moments of his full attention if he wants to run the room for the duration, otherwise this won't work.
Now, if Hardison would just confirm that he's got his ass in gear-
The women are shouting.
Eliot spins, bringing his hand down to his sidearm- he'll take Ferrara's crew if he has to- but the women are running towards him in a crowd too thick to see through, shoving past him towards the side door next to the truck bay, but Fletcher's already there, blocking it.
One of them smells sweet, but there's this chemical tang in the air-
Shit.
The light's gone wrong, a little gray, a little hazy and Kevin Jackson's supposed to be helping keep these women in check, anyhow.
Forcing his way through, he tries to find Aisha, but she's been swallowed by the mass, she's a part of it now, and the garage door is opening now. She's probably got her finger on the button. The rest of the room is starting to fill up with smoke, different veins of white going to almost greenish gray.
Fletcher's rushing past, trying to get ahead to chase the women who'd already made it out, but it's too confused in here for him to even register that Eliot's the one who knocks him out. Katsaros, he's got no bead on. Ferrara's in the middle of the room, backing slowly away from the pink liquid seeping up from the drain. There's a crackling noise and a skittering feeling in the air.
The sparks in the middle are coming from Hardison's antenna.
"Damn it!"
The women are already pouring out into the bright parking lot outside. It takes Eliot a moment to see past the headlights to the red and blue flashing of police cars.
Tara and Jason had been in a cruiser, but it wasn't supposed to be coming for another fifteen or twenty minutes; he hadn't heard Hardison giving the signal, and besides. There are at least half a dozen cop cars coming pulling in, with paddy wagons closing up behind.
Fuck. This isn't good.
Cool it.
It could be worse. The women are getting out, Aisha's clear, and as far as he can tell, none of Hardison's crew is in the building.
They've probably already been picked up. Something went wrong, Someone got made, it's all going to hell..
Ferrara's shouting at him, pointing angrily at the mess on the floor, the way it's spread out to block their other exits. Even the stairs moving up to the office are cut off.
Behind him, he hears Katsaros getting arrested. He just needs a second to figure out another-
"Drop the gun, sir," a voice is ordering him, and honestly, Jason doesn't need to look that smug.
Eliot sets the gun down, doesn't resist as the cuffs are put on him. As soon as they're in the cruiser and clear of here, Hardison's never going to hear the end of this. It's a stupid fucking risk he took, here, changing the play without telling him. Running game with the police right there was bad enough; if nobody'd noticed the liquid seeping up before the first charge went though? Could've killed someone.
Jason shoves him off balance as they go down the steps. "Fuck you," Eliot spits, mostly because it's in character, but Jason only grins. And then shoves him towards another officer, waiting by the cars.
This one, Eliot doesn't recognize. As he's searched and mirandized, he comes to the quiet realization that he's just been double crossed. By Alec. Fucking. Hardison.
---
They're finally clear of Latimer. Nate's apartment's been bug-free for weeks, now, and nobody's shady past has come 'round checking up on them in months. On top of that, this last job's gone off without a hitch, plan courtesy of one Alec "Masterplan" Hardison. It's still actually kind of amazing. Alec's still mentally rewinding that part in the van, where Nate grudgingly admitted that yeah, he's got it down now. That he could probably run his own crew, if he wanted to.
Not that he does, or anything. Not now, at least. He'd told Nate as much, and for some reason the dude had frowned. Then Parker had come on comms to announce that she was coming out with a suitcase of stolen cash. Enough to set up the three victims for life and then some.
Maybe that's what's got Parker in such a good mood, why she'd caught him on the way in and asked if she could come over tonight, once they're done here. Like maybe she's had enough time to think about things. Or maybe she just wants company while she watches cartoons. Either's fine, he reminds himself. Both beat sitting at his apartment wondering if he's making a mistake, pushing her the way he's been doing. Hoping for... something. Whatever it is. It's totally cool. It's good.
Besides, Eliot's done up carnitas and rice, and the mole sauce is awesome, and Alec's just kind of riding the high of everything when Sophie drops the bombshell.
"I'm pregnant."
Nate comes in with a flanking attack. "We're getting married next month."
Alec's actually not all that surprised, considering, and it's not too hard to work his congratulations in with the others. Parker's bouncing in her chair and staring- hard- at Sophie's still-flat belly, as if she won't believe it until she sees it, and it's clear by her face that she's not sure whether to be happy or horrified. Sophie's too much the center of attention to do anything but laugh along, and Nate's beaming.
He's got his fork halfway to his mouth, losing Sophie's trail as she talks excitedly about her first trip to the doctor, when he realizes that, yeah, no kidding, things really are about to change.
Eliot's grinning too, but after a few minutes- maybe it's the silence coming from his end of the table, maybe it's nothing at all- Alec turns to notice that he's not actually just staring off into space, he's watching everyone just a little too clearly. Like he's trying to save this in his head, fix it in his memory.
And he knows without asking what one of the changes is going to be. Eliot's going to leave, soon.
Alec's not hungry any more, but he clears his plate. The food's cold when he's finished. He doesn't know how many dinners they have left together. Spends most of his time trying to keep his mouth shut, not sure what's going to come out if it opens.
Afterwards, walking up the stairs to his apartment. Parker tries kissing him. They're both trying really hard to like it. Sometimes it's just one of those things, comes with practice.
They sit next to each other on the couch and watch Family Guy and don't look each other in the eye the rest of the night. When she leaves- and she always leaves, and probably always will always move just as quickly when she goes- he doesn't get up. Just stares at his phone on the table, thinking about calling someone. Eliot's the only one he can think of. Just because he's probably still up. But the odds that he's just waiting to hear all Alec's bullshit are admittedly slim.
---
"He's going to kill you, you know."
"No, he won't." It's a little easier to sound confident of the fact knowing that Eliot's turned his comms off. "He's going to be very surly. And possibly even angry. But this was the best play and he knows it."
"You sure about that? 'Cause right now it looks like you're letting him go down with Ferrara."
"Well yeah. Because that's what it is. Besides. I'm sure he would've done this, anyway. If he'd thought about it."
"You ever stop to think there's a reason why maybe he didn't?"
"For the same reasons none of us ever have the idea of getting our asses arrested. So are we ready or not?"
"Yeah," Maria sighs. "Sending it to your phone now."
"Good."
Alec steps out of his car and strides into the precinct offices. The lobby is empty at this time of night, and the night shift officer on the other side of the glass is looking at him warily.
"Hello," Alec nods, sliding his badge underneath the glass, and then a manila folder. The duty officer, Cortes, slides it open, her eyebrows shooting up as she sees what it is.
"Just got word that one of our agents was arrested a few hours ago. I need him sprung, and it needs to happen quietly. Here's the paperwork, it'll spell everything out."
"He's working undercover?"
"Months now, yeah. Been out in the cold too long, we were starting to worry. On the off chance his cover's not blown, yet, we needed to play this out clean. Same reason you managed to fill most of your drunk tank with half a dozen Interpol warrants off of one DUI checkpoint at 9:30 this evening."
Cortes blinks, breaking into a grin of recognition. It never takes long for word to spread between the precincts. "Of course." She scans through the report to find a selection of signatures that should've taken Alec days to collect if they'd been real.
"Is he in holding yet?"
"Yes, sir," Cortes slides his badge back to him and hits the switch that opens the door into the offices. "The probable cause hearing's set for tomorrow afternoon, but our guys have been working him a little, trying to get him to talk. It's been a confusing night. Well. You know."
"I hear you," Alec grins. As a Federal Agent, he's been in this situation hundreds of times. It's all true, except for the fact that it's all false. He steps through the door, follows Cortes down past cubicles towards the back of the bullpen.
"The women?"
"They're at the hospital," Cortes says. "Most of them were suffering from dehydration at least. Buys us at least enough time before the Chief decides how to proceed. They're safe, though. And we've got seventeen people in custody. Half of them are downtown, since we don't have the room to keep them all separated in here."
"Good work," Alec agrees, trying to keep the surprise from his voice. The police do, on occasion, get it right.
Through the cross-hatching reinforcement on the interview room's small window, he sees Eliot glaring back at him over the head of some detective.
The next half hour would go by quickly, were it not for the fact that Eliot's glares, apparently, have the power to stop time indefinitely. Finally, however, papers are signed, scanned, and entered into the system, and Eliot's pacing ahead out of the precinct, hands in his pockets. It's not until they reach Alec's car that Eliot explodes.
"Seriously?"
"What? It's all true, ain't it? You're an operative, working under cover, and your crew-"' He's interrupted by the punch to the jaw.
"Fuck you."
And yeah, he's kind of had that one bought and paid for already- it's why there's an ice pack waiting in the cooler on the back seat already- but this shit is getting old.
"You done?"
Eliot bares his teeth. "Not by half."
"You getting into the car, at least?"
Eliot's jaw is set, but he stalks around the front of the car and waits a full five seconds after the door's unlocked to get in. Jaws clenched like that, there's no way in hell he's going to be the one to speak first.
Fine.
"Was I supposed to trust you? I mean, seriously. Was anything you did in the past two days supposed to put me at my ease, here? You needed our help, but weren't exactly easy with the details. That much I can forgive, the entire classified black ops thing. That, I get. But you went behind my back and put one of my crew at risk."
"So you changed the play, had me arrested?"
"I had you arrested to keep your cover in play. If what you're saying is true, then you might need Kevin Jackson again fairly soon, right?"
"How would it have been a problem for me to know the play in advance?" Offended realization dawns over his face. "You needed to see which way I'd jump."
"Well, that, and because I also wanted to capture your prints. I've got them, Eliot. You're in the system, and how this plays out over the next little while is what's going to determine what I do with them."
"Fuck you," Eliot grumbles. A mile goes by before he continues. "So fine, whatever. You and me, apparently we're still not square. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to get on the phone with your people. That backup you've got coming in. And I want them to make sure they know that deporting the women back to the hell they came from isn't their only option."
Eliot's staring at him, heavy. When he speaks, his voice is low, gravelly, but there's a smirk in it, somewhere. "You seriously think we've got an operation this big because we're looking to just toss them back, so they can get caught up in it again?"
"Do you have the means to get papers for all of them?"
Eliot rolls his eyes in disbelief. "Yes, actually. We do."
It's the first surprising truly surprising thing Eliot's said in five years.
---
"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Eliot sips the beer Nate's got waiting for him on the bar, knowing full well that it's a bribe, something to get him to sit still long enough to hear him out.
It's not like they've got anything more important to do right now, anyway. There's two days before the wedding, and Sophie and Parker have dragged Hardison out to run errands. Something about a dress fitting that he'd been complaining about, though his complaints had been drowned out by Parker's. At least none of them were having a good time, either.
"What happens next," Nate's eyes don't move from the baseball game happening on the TV above the bar. He's not enjoying this either, whatever this is. "Hardison and Parker want to keep the crew going, and you're packing your bags. I was just wondering why."
Eliot's been ready for this for a while now. "Us three doing the work of us five just ain't viable, Nate, and you know it."
"Those two doing the work of five is even less so," Nate points out. "And Sophie and I won't have any trouble consulting, we're just. Out of the field."
"I know." It's weird, hearing him say it. Even with the wedding happening in three days, it still doesn't feel real.
"So what's the answer that you didn't have rehearsed?"
Eliot shakes his head. It figures he wouldn't be getting off so easily. No need to drag this out, anyway. Still, he waits for Cora to return to the other end of the bar before speaking. "Belgrade."
Nate barely reacts. There's something flashing in his eyes, then it's gone. He's not surprised by the answer, only that he's getting one.
"I'm sorry about that."
"Not saying you need to be. That was a bad scene. You hadn't tipped the cops off, Moreau would've been the least of my problems."
Nate's sitting up straighter on his stool, realization dawning on his face, and his face is shockingly apologetic when he faces Eliot. "I'm sorry. I never. Didn't realize. Liam Kenny. You went solo after that."
"Stop it. You kept me out of it, kept up your end of the deal. If you and I had issues you would've known about 'em a long time ago. And I was never in this for the romance."
His beer's there, to keep himself from saying anything more, but it gives Nate time to think, too.
"Eliot, can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"Hardison. His thing with Parker, and ah. You. Are you saying... Is that what this is about?"
"Doesn't matter." There isn't enough beer in his glass- not enough in this entire bar- to save him from this. Nate's still watching him. "Seriously. No. Yeah. I don't know." And that's the bitch of it. Because it's true, he doesn't have a clue, just this great big Maybe that's been floating around his ideas of Hardison for months, now.
Hissing, Nate's suddenly swiveling, blinking at the bottles behind the bar in mortified surprise. He's overselling it, and Eliot knows his own laugh is forced, but even if there's this weird tearing in his chest going on, at least it's Nate's turn to be awkward about it.
"No kidding," he mutters wryly into his beer, his eyes following Nate's to the mirror behind the top shelf bottles.
Hardison's shocked reflection is staring back at him, from only three feet away.
----
At this point, there's no sense holding out on Hardison. He's going to put the pieces together when the others arrive, anyhow. "Senator Ferrara. He's sponsoring the girls on the down low."
"And I'm only hearing about this now because..?" At least Hardison's done with the shouting for now. Small silver lining.
"If it were made public that he's helping out a small international nonprofit that way, where would the attention land next?" It's been a while, but he remembers. Talk Hardison through it, make him think, he'll never miss a thing.
If Hardison could figure out a way to kick himself without crashing the car, he'd probably be doing it now. "On the operation itself." He's nodding to himself, going over it and fitting the pieces in with whatever it is that he already knows, and he's finally silent, now. Sensing that he's bought himself a few minutes before the next bout, Eliot digs his cell out of his pocket to call Aisha. Turns out, she's already in the loop.
"So," he says, once he's finished filling in the gaps. "We're heading out. You want us to come pick you up at the hospital?"
"No, I'm staying with them until it's over." There's something in her voice that Eliot's not used to hearing. It's concern. Then again, three weeks locked in cages will breed a certain camaraderie. Hell, that's how he'd met Aisha, the first time. "The hospital's short on translators at this time of night. You know how it is."
Eliot doesn't have a clue. "They're all okay? No burns or anything?" He catches Hardison's quick sidelong glance, but can't read it with nothing more than the dashboard lights to go by.
"Not even smoke inhalation. Dehydration, a little malnutrition and a few mild issues, but on the whole, they're coming out all right. Nervous, still, but they're not going to stop worrying about being deported until they actually get those papers in their hands. You talk to Sheridan about that yet?"
"I'll call the boss man in a bit," Eliot says. "So, Nurse Grace, You want us to bring y'all anything?" Hardison, for some reason, is swiveling his head and staring at him, and it's distracting until he realizes why. But it's not important.
"I've got it for now," Aisha's saying. "But hit me up in the morning. I'm going to need cash for a hotel where I can shower properly and sleep for days."
"Sure thing."
They sign off, and Hardison gives it a mile before raising his eyebrows at him. "You want to head back to the hotel?"
"Sure."
It's nearly three, but he's not ready to sleep, and honestly, a beer in the hotel bar is in order. And he and Hardison probably aren't done hashing this shit out yet; he doesn't even know if he's supposed to consider him a friend, now, to be honest. But maybe they're over the worst of it. Maybe Hardison will say yes.
He debates for the twenty minutes it takes for the hotel to come into sight. He's doesn't even know if he's going to go through with it until Hardison's slowing the car down.
"Bar time here's still four, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then park this thing." It's easiest to steal something if you already believe it's yours. "We're not done arguing, and you owe me a beer."
"What? I did just spring you from the pokey. Beer ought to be flowin' the other way, man."
"Yeah, well. You're the one who had me arrested in the first place."
Hardison keeps it deadpan for a moment before grinning so widely at him that Eliot's sure he doesn't deserve it. "Fair enough."
Rolling his eyes, Eliot gets out of the car. "Seriously? The pokey?"
---
Between the late hour, the second round of beers, and the fact that they'd just busted a trafficking ring, the argument's lost most of the sharp edges. It doesn't mean they're quite done, though.
And Alec's working out how to stretch it until last call before he realizes that he's doing it. "Hey," he shrugs. "You know as well as I did that it was going to be harder keeping everyone safe when the buyers arrived. It was easier just to stick with your original plan. It was solid man."
Eliot's scowl is sarcastic, nothing special there, nothing new, but the laughter's reaching his eyes and he'd missed that. "You're what, Mr. Safety now? My plan didn't involve electrocuting people with Kool-Aid."
"Details, man. Style." Alec doesn't point out that the voltage was so low the worst jolt anyone would've gotten was less than a static shock from a carpeted floor. It's too much fun watching Eliot freak out.
---
This lull they're in isn't getting any shorter, but Eliot's gone ahead and ordered another round for the both of them. Seems as safe a time to ask as any.
"So. What've you been up to for the past five years?"
Eliot snorts into his glass. "Exactly what you're thinking I've been doing. Few government jobs, a few private ones. You remember Flores in San Lorenzo?" Hardison nods "Some of his contacts over at the UN needed some off the books work done, I took the gig. I was finishing up a job in Beirut when the deal with the Senator happened. That was about two years ago, now. Had a few months to set up, and been living as Jackson for the past year and a half."
"Right on." Alec grins, relaxes just a bit more. Maybe the beer's finally helping. "When did Nurse Gale come on board?"
"Hell, she was working for them back before that day at McRory's." Eliot twists the neck of his half-full bottle between his fingers. "What about you, what've you been doin'?"
"Exactly what you're thinking I've been doing," he smirks. "Started pulling the team together pretty quick. Maria came on first, then Parker tipped us off to Ravi. Been through a few hitters. One just got tired of the game and quit, but most've 'em just sucked. Jason's workin' out real well, though."
"He's got some moves," Eliot eventually allows, in a terse sort of way that's probably hitter for don't tell him I said that. "When did Tara come on board?"
"She... She's not a regular, or nothing. She just sometimes helps out while she's in the area, in between marks. Flew her in once or twice when we really needed a cute blonde to play roper. This time 'round, though, she was in the area. Transporting some stuff for Parker, actually."
Maybe it's a misstep, if Eliot's thought processes are anything like Alec's. Because if it's Parker, then it's Alec and Parker, and it's Eliot leaving because of- whatever. Alec's had five years to get over this. Or at least get better at it, but it's not like he can just come out and say, Hey, Eliot. You remember that time I heard you say, "No. Yeah. I don't know?" And I stared at you like an idiot and we avoided each other and you left? Yeah, about that...
But once again, Eliot's thought processes are his own. "Is Parker the one who's been going after all the looted pieces from the Iraqi museums?"
It's an informational question, not dangerously edging on personal. This, he can deal with, even with as far from left field as it's coming. "Yeah."
"Good." Something in Eliot relaxes, or maybe Alec's just imagining it. "Was really hoping so."
"Why?"
Eliot frowns, thinking, then he's apparently remembered. "Was at this party, building up my profile, working towards Ferrara, who was there that night. It was at this, ah...politico's place. In Portugal. I'd wandered out onto an empty balcony to get some air, heard something that sounded like her rappelling anchor running up on the roof overhead. Very distinctive sound." He smirks. "Anyway, by the time I looked, I only saw, like, feet, swinging over onto the roof and then nothing. The guards came by looking ten seconds later."
Alec frowns, ready to attack if need be. "And you were hoping it was her?"
"Yeah. Anyone else would've gotten caught. And what they would've had waiting for them? Not cool."
"So what happened?"
"They searched all the guests, few people got roughed up, but they didn't find anything." Eliot sips his beer, the topic, as far as he's concerned, is evidently closed. "Where is she, anyhow?" His eyes dart away, searching the bar like he's expecting her to pop up at his elbow, and the bullet Alec's been thinking he's dodged through this entire conversation ricochets right back at him. "You two still...?"
"Me an' her only lasted a few weeks after you left."
He wishes he'd rephrased it the moment it's said. He's not trying to pin it on Eliot, especially not when he's sitting across the table, half-grinning in something like sympathy. "It was for the best. We're cool. Grab dinner when she's in town, and we all get together at Sophie and Nate's for Christmas when we can. She's got something going on with Apollo, past few years, brings him around sometimes."
"Seriously?" Eliot's eyes widen in mild surprise before narrowing again. "Actually, I can see it."
Alec really wants to turn the question around, but he's a little too invested in the answer to actually want to hear the answer. "Both of them came out last winter. He got all dressed up as Santa for Mona and Frankie. Parker did the elf thing."
"Mona and Frankie," Eliot repeats thoughtfully before shaking his head. "What about you? Sophie make you dress up like a reindeer or something?"
"Nah. I was manning the cameras. Took copious amounts of embarrassing video."
"Who was embarrassed?"
"Everyone, probably. I can show you sometime, if you want."
"Sure."
Alec blinks. "For real?"
"Didn't even know there was a second kid, and I ain't ever seen the first one. Kinda curious," Eliot's eyes slide away, and Alec wonders exactly what his life's been looking like, wants to know all the things he's not telling him. Conversation halts again as the waitress comes by for last call, and Alec orders another set before Eliot can stop him. Just in case he's planning on trying.
---
...2725 Mauris Avenue, Number 43. 961-219-4532. 483 Lorem Road, East Lothian. 0131-665-8299...
The waitress comes back, tells them that they're closing up shop, but Eliot's escape won't be immediate. He and Hardison are loitering in the lobby, with the bland couches and fake plants and desk clerk who's pretending not to watch them over the counter.
"So," Hardison says, turning their handshake into a quick hug that's too quick and too distant to mean anything at all. "You'll keep in touch this time around, yeah?"
"Yeah," Eliot repeats, scanning him for signs of inebriation. "You're okay to drive?"
"Only had three beers," Hardison says, sounding so much like Nate- so practiced and detached about the matter- that it's a little unnerving. But there's more, too. A flash of nerves, too slowly hidden. "I'm good."
If he pushes it, Hardison's definitely going to think he's hitting on him.
"All right," Eliot hears himself saying. "Cool. Well. Good night, man. Good luck."
"Thanks. You too." Already stepping back and away, he nods enthusiastically, speaks too loudly. The girl at the counter doesn't have to strain herself to listen. "I'll see you around, right?"
"Yeah. See ya."
---
It's been a long day.
Exhausting.
And even with the three beers, Eliot can't stop staring at the ceiling, trying to identify what the fuck it is that he's feeling.
---
Three blocks from the hotel, Alec has to pull over, freak out for a minute, before very calmly signaling and pulling back into traffic.
He's being ridiculous. That, back there, wasn't anything. It wasn't worth panicking about. It's not.
---
Maria, who'd come in expecting to spend this gorgeous afternoon falsifying immigration documents, is especially thrilled to be cut loose so soon, and Alec's pretending not to notice Ravi hurrying to catch up to her before she's gone, or the sudden drop in volume of their conversation. Jason's not blind either, he hangs back a minute at the table, watching out of the corner of his eye. Once the door's shut, he stands, grabbing his coat.
"You see that Eliot dude again, tell him I'm down for a rematch." Grabbing his coat, he winks at Tara, flashes them both the peace sign, and heads for the stairs.
Tara's still sipping at her coffee, and this must be what Nate felt like, all the time, waiting for everyone to clear out so he could think in silence. She's got her purse on the table and her keys out, though. Five more minutes, and he'll have the office to himself.
"So. You doing all right?"
Or maybe not. This is starting to look like a dark cloud on an otherwise sunny day.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why you askin'?"
"Because you just spent the past two days in an amazing display of head game brinkmanship with Eliot Spencer?"
"Whatever," Alec starts, but he's cut off by the ringing of the phone. Smirking, he holds the phone up so she can read the name on the caller ID.
She's standing in an instant, purse and keys in hand, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead before pinching his cheek like he's one of Sophie's kids. "Send him my love, and if you don't call me soon with gossip, you'd better call me soon with a job."
He tries not to grin as he turns to answer the phone.
"Hey, man, what's up?"
Behind him, the door's closing. It's just him and Eliot now, and it's suddenly awkward.
"Ah. I'm leaving town. Just wanted you to know, everything's getting handled. Aisha's saying that the foundation taking care of getting them set up with housing and resources and stuff already has their paperwork, if you're wanting to check up on them or anything."
"What's the foundation called?"
"What, you're telling me you can't hack it?" He doesn't know if the chiding's supposed to make him so pathetically grateful, but it's happening.
"You fall on your head or something? Course I can."
"Didn't think so." There's something vaguely resembling a gibberish human voice in the background. Eliot's at the airport already, and it's not the sort of thing that's supposed to send Alec's stomach to plummeting. "Anyhow. Look. About the past few days. Know we had punches and beers and all, but I wanted to make sure we're cool before I head out."
This time. Neither of them say the words, but Alec's probably not the only one hearing them. "Nah, man, we're good. Long as you don't wait five years to say hi again."
"You've got my number."
"That I do. Everything work out okay on your end?"
"Yeah. Have to do a little finessing things, here. Fletcher's singing like a canary, angling for a better deal, so we've got a shot at taking down the last parts of the extended network if we move fast. Nobody's getting out any time soon, but word spreads, you know? If I'm fast, though, Kevin Jackson's got enough left in him to get back into play."
"Glad to hear it." That awkwardness is ballooning again, and again, it's his own damned fault. "And hey, listen. I know this didn't work out smooth, but if you need anything, hit me up, I got your back, no questions asked."
"Will do," Eliot's voice goes quiet. "Thanks." There's this pause where one of them is probably supposed to be saying something, but Alec only hears the public address system bleeding through. "They're calling my flight. Gotta go."
"Right on. Good luck, man."
"Thanks. You too."
Alec hesitates, but he's still not certain he's the last one to hang up.
---
Eliot's standing next to him, at Nate's right during the ceremony, but he might as well be a million miles away already. Two days, and they've said nothing to each other. At all.
Eliot might as well be gone already.
Beyond Sophie's amazingly complicated dress, Alec can just make out Parker, struggling not to fidget with her flowers, anxious and bored. Tara's eyes never move from the ceremony, but her attention's on Parker as well.
It's amazing, the number of people who've come. Cora's family and Nate's ex-wife. Lieutenant Bonnano and a smattering of Nate's (mostly legitimate) and Sophie's (mostly criminal) friends. Hell, even Sterling's sent a card.
Only another thousand hours of this, and they'll be on their way to McRory's for the reception. Soon as they send the newlyweds-and isn't that strange- on their way to their honeymoon, well. It'll all be over.
Because it's not like Eliot's going to be sticking around, afterwards. One show only. No encores. And his bags are already packed, in the back of his truck.
Alec hasn't even been able to get him alone long enough to ask if he wants him to keep an eye on the house when he leaves. Probably because that's not the only question Alec's got in mind; it's just the opener. After that? It gets weird.
Parker's in on the con, though she doesn't know why. It probably do much good, since Eliot's expecting it, but it might be enough to catch him for five minutes. That's all he needs. Just five. But there's hours and hours to get through between here and there. Before he can talk to the guy standing a foot and a half to his left, ramrod straight, eyes boring into the stained glass behind the altar.
Pictures are taken- smile for the camera, pretend like this isn't the last time they're going to be in the same city- and he's sorting out rides and directions and making small talk with near strangers, and finally, everyone's in place when Mr. and Mrs. Ford- that'll never sound right- are walking in the front door of McRory's to thundering applause.
Eliot pulls off his speech amazingly well. It's the most words he's said in days. Tara's is better, though. She doesn't have to keep looking at her cards. And then, finally, Alec can lose the tie because the reception's in full swing.
There are too many nooks and crannies in this place to keep an eye on Eliot, make sure he's not gone, but Alec's got allies. Nate and Sophie do what they can to orchestrate a conversation, Tara's a little more tricky and Parker, as it turns out, is a whole lot less subtle.
"Figure this out," she glares at both of them, brandishing Eliot's stolen keys and shoving them into a booth. "Both of you."
And it's stupid and pointless and he can't think of what he wanted to say in the first place. Eliot's not looking like he wants much to talk, either. He's actually looking everywhere but Alec, but eventually his annoyance wins out.
"What do you want?"
"Me? Ain't it obvious? Figured you and me need to talk, unless you wanted to ride out of town feeling like a jackass."
"So talk."
At least Parker hadn't taken their beers away. They're useful props, and Eliot's irritation is barely covering his nervousness. He actually looks like he could use a drink. And that's when it hits him. What he'd been about to do. Because Eliot's into dudes. That's one thing. But Eliot's possibly into him, and that's... it doesn't have to be a whole other cluster-fuck, but getting loud about it in the middle of a wedding reception isn't the way to handle it.
"Five minutes, okay? That's all I'm asking."
"Fine."
"You don't have to go."
Eliot smirks. "Is that it?"
"In a nutshell."
"I'm going." He sips at his beer- it looks like the same one he's been nursing all night, but Alec's not sure- then looks at him for the first time. "Nothing personal, okay? You and me, we're cool. And I'll write, visit, whatever, but I'm leaving tonight."
"Anything I can say to change your mind?"
Apparently it doesn't warrant anything more than a shake of the head. He's tempted again to bring up the Carters, and their sick kid. It looks like an easy job, and he and Parker are heading down to Tempe next week to handle it, but it seems low. Pathetic, and more importantly, ineffective.
He doesn't know how not to feel guilty about this. There's a part of him that's considering breaking it off with Parker entirely just to make him stay. As if that isn't the stupidly cruelest thing he's ever contemplated.
It does feel like he's giving up without a fight, though. But he'd already expected as much. The papers in his pocket only prove it.
"Okay. Here it is, then. One. You always got a place with us, whenever you want, no questions asked." He slips the paper out of his pocket and slides it across the table. "You already know my email address. Here's every way you don't already know for how to get a hold of me. You call any of these numbers, I'll answer. And that place I picked up in Manhattan last spring's there on the end. You run into any trouble at all, you let me know."
Eliot frowns. He'd probably much rather have the fight, not this capitulation, but Alec can't give him what he wants. Doesn't even know if either of them honestly want him to, and this is all he can come up with. After a few moments, Eliot takes the paper, slips it into his jacket without looking at it. Long as he doesn't look, it's not real. Neither of them have to deal with it.
"Thanks." Apologetically, he adds, "I don't know where I'm going to be, here, so I can't-" his fingers twitch towards the pocket Alec's ignoring. "You know. But thanks. For this. And everything."
Nate and Sophie look like they're beat, Parker's rushing over to open the doors, warn the driver. Eliot's been neglecting his duties.
Alec's out of the booth first, though. He's there when Eliot stands.
"So this is it, I guess."
"Yeah."
Alec grabs him, pulls him into a tight hug. "It's been real, man. You even try being a stranger and I'm gonna come after your ass, you got that?"
"Yeah. Take care of yourself."
"You too."
And Eliot's sharing a glance with Nate, clapping his hands loudly and getting everyone's attention. It's time to send them off. Eliot's the first one to hug them both.
Alec claps loud, hard enough that his palms sting. And watches with everyone as Nate and Sophie make their exit, out to the limo that's waiting out front. Sophie still doesn't even know where they're going, Alec's made sure of that much. But she's going to absolutely love it.
By the time they've cleared the door, he's turning. The door into the back room is swinging shut over a flash of tan satin. Parker's bridesmaid's dress, moving quickly. By the time he makes it back, cracks it open, all he sees is Eliot and her breaking leaning in towards each other, talking quietly.
It's Eliot's last goodbye, and whatever's said isn't any of Alec's business. He hugs her, she shoves his keys at him, and then he's gone.
She's crying when she turns around. Crashes into Alec's arms easily enough. He doesn't know it yet, but it doesn't fix a thing.
For a while, they hold it together. The Carters get their money back from the insurance company, their kid's getting his treatment. Parker and him, they can barely look at each other.
Three weeks after the wedding, it's their last goodbye too.
Chapter 5