kathierif_fic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kathierif_fic) wrote2011-02-05 05:56 pm
kathierif_fic) wrote2011-02-05 05:56 pm
Fic: Predictable Error And No Identity - Leverage - FRT-13 - AU - Hardison/Eliot/Parker
Title: Predictable Errors And No Identity
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Parker/Hardion/Eliot
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true.
Rating: FRT-13
Summary: Two days after he lost the braces and glasses, Alec Hardison had found himself in the backroom of a dingy tattoo parlor.
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 1148
A/Ns: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
au_bingo prompt #15: Future: Cyberpunk. Title from a song by Bad Religion
Two days after he lost the braces and glasses, Alec Hardison had found himself in a small room, the backroom of a dingy tattoo parlor, leg twitching and fingers drumming nervously on the armrest of the chair he was sitting in. He’d tried to play it cool when he’d strolled into the studio, excited that he’d finally gotten rid of the braces that would have interfered with what he was planning to do now.
He’d almost not gone, nervousness and a small inkling of fear deep in his stomach holding him back for twenty-four hours, but then, he’d remembered what exactly he would be able to do, once he went through with this, and his excitement had taken over again.
~~
“Hardison?” Nate murmured questioningly, his voice right in Hardison’s brain, the right side, to be exact, and Hardison’s lips twitched slightly.
“I’m already on it,” he promised, his lips moving out of habit, not because he needed it to communicate with them right now. “This guy’s records are a mess – oh hello, what’s that? A hidden bank account!” His attention was momentarily split as he concentrated on the camera feeds in the building. “Uh-oh, Eliot…”
A grunt answered him, followed by a short, “I see them.” Seconds later, a long-haired shadow appeared on one of the camera feeds, and Hardison focused on that particular one and turned a blind eye on it – literally, as he projected the picture of a deserted hallway. The camera flickered briefly and Eliot was gone; gone only because Hardison’s brain was feeding new data to the camera, data in which Eliot wasn’t in the building at all.
His grin widened slightly. He was proud of what he was able to do, and why shouldn’t he? He was good, very good even at his job. He could easily manipulate two camera feeds at the same time without losing control, and he was doing it now, while the real camera feeds flickered over the back of his mind, straight into his memory. He would review the data later, when he was resting, and either forget it or keep at least parts of it.
On one feed, Eliot was neatly taking care of a group of security men that had come too close to discovering them, hair flying and muscles shifting enticingly under his black t-shirt. On the other one, Parker was sorting through their victim’s office, trying to find anything that could help them nail him down and get the money for their client. The first thing she’d done was starting the computer and plugging in a device that would establish a connection to Hardison – straight into his brain. He’d developed and built it himself, not trusting anyone else’s wiring – after all, this was his brain, his biggest asset, and he would not risk damaging it. He’d had downloaded a virus into his internal systems once, and it wasn’t an experience he was keen on repeating. The device he’d developed served as a filter and it had a strong anti-virus software installed on it, as well.
“Got it,” Parker said, her voice cheerful, right before she closed the safe she’d just gone through.
“Good,” Nate answered. “Get out.”
Parker nodded, unseen by anyone but Hardison, and disconnected the device. The brightness behind Hardison’s eyes dimmed, but it didn’t disappear completely – the data was now filtered over the internet and Hardison’s secondary back-up systems and his external computers. It allowed him to pay almost attention to the elegant arch of Parker’s body as she left the office the way she’d come in, through the open window.
As soon as she was gone, Hardison released his grip on the camera feed. He checked his memories briefly, to see if Eliot was still in the building, but he was long gone, a pile of unconscious goons the only sign that he’d ever been there.
Sighing softly, he let go of that camera as well. One last sweep through the data that was still circling through his brain, to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, any trace that Eliot and Parker had ever been there, and he allowed himself to retreat and his brain to relax.
Gradually, he became aware of his comfy chair under him, the sweat drying on his skin, and the dryness of his mouth, and slowly, he was able to hear the sounds of the street outside his van again.
Rough, warm fingers brushed against his temple, along the shell of his ear and his neck, mindful of the wires and cables connecting Hardison to his computer.
Hardison smiled softly and reached up, to disconnect himself from them and power down those parts of his brain that usually lied dormant, unless he was hacking. Only then did he open his eyes, to avoid the overstimulation of his cerebral cortex.
Eliot was crouched down next to him. His fingers were gripping Hardison’s shoulder tightly now, reminding Hardison physically that he was human, flesh and blood and all the stuff in between them, and not a computer.
“You okay?” Eliot asked, his voice a deep growl that sent a shiver down Hardison’s back; a shiver he would remember later, when he was less exhausted and had some food in him, and when they weren’t busy with a job.
He groped blindly at the table next to him, searching for the bottle of orange soda he’d put there earlier. He needed the rush of sugar now – it wasn’t often that he had to dive so deeply into a computer system, and it had exhausted him.
Parker handed him the bottle and Hardison took it with a grateful croak that was supposed to be a thank you. His throat felt parched, his tongue swollen, and his hands were shaking slightly when he took it.
He’d only taken a few sips when the door was yanked open, and Nate and Sophie climbed into the van, their part of the con completed as well. Eliot gave Hardison a short glance before climbing across his out-stretched legs and into the driver’s seat.
Before he did, he brushed his fingers against Hardison’s temple again, a quick, fleeting touch, so soft and brief that nobody else had noticed, except Parker maybe.
Hardison reached up to rub his temples. The scars where the connective wire had been put in so many years ago were long-faded, almost invisible to the eye and touch, but they were still there, surrounding the parts where he could plug himself into a computer and following the wires on his skull, and the skin surrounding them still tingled from Eliot’s touch and reminded Hardison that, despite the electronic equipment that had formed an interface straight to his brain and that had allowed him to become one of the best hackers of his generation, he still was, underneath all of that, not a computer, but a man.
A man in love.
~end.
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Leverage
Pairing: Parker/Hardion/Eliot
Disclaimer: Not mine, not true.
Rating: FRT-13
Summary: Two days after he lost the braces and glasses, Alec Hardison had found himself in the backroom of a dingy tattoo parlor.
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 1148
A/Ns: Written for
au_bingo prompt #15: Future: Cyberpunk. Title from a song by Bad ReligionTwo days after he lost the braces and glasses, Alec Hardison had found himself in a small room, the backroom of a dingy tattoo parlor, leg twitching and fingers drumming nervously on the armrest of the chair he was sitting in. He’d tried to play it cool when he’d strolled into the studio, excited that he’d finally gotten rid of the braces that would have interfered with what he was planning to do now.
He’d almost not gone, nervousness and a small inkling of fear deep in his stomach holding him back for twenty-four hours, but then, he’d remembered what exactly he would be able to do, once he went through with this, and his excitement had taken over again.
~~
“Hardison?” Nate murmured questioningly, his voice right in Hardison’s brain, the right side, to be exact, and Hardison’s lips twitched slightly.
“I’m already on it,” he promised, his lips moving out of habit, not because he needed it to communicate with them right now. “This guy’s records are a mess – oh hello, what’s that? A hidden bank account!” His attention was momentarily split as he concentrated on the camera feeds in the building. “Uh-oh, Eliot…”
A grunt answered him, followed by a short, “I see them.” Seconds later, a long-haired shadow appeared on one of the camera feeds, and Hardison focused on that particular one and turned a blind eye on it – literally, as he projected the picture of a deserted hallway. The camera flickered briefly and Eliot was gone; gone only because Hardison’s brain was feeding new data to the camera, data in which Eliot wasn’t in the building at all.
His grin widened slightly. He was proud of what he was able to do, and why shouldn’t he? He was good, very good even at his job. He could easily manipulate two camera feeds at the same time without losing control, and he was doing it now, while the real camera feeds flickered over the back of his mind, straight into his memory. He would review the data later, when he was resting, and either forget it or keep at least parts of it.
On one feed, Eliot was neatly taking care of a group of security men that had come too close to discovering them, hair flying and muscles shifting enticingly under his black t-shirt. On the other one, Parker was sorting through their victim’s office, trying to find anything that could help them nail him down and get the money for their client. The first thing she’d done was starting the computer and plugging in a device that would establish a connection to Hardison – straight into his brain. He’d developed and built it himself, not trusting anyone else’s wiring – after all, this was his brain, his biggest asset, and he would not risk damaging it. He’d had downloaded a virus into his internal systems once, and it wasn’t an experience he was keen on repeating. The device he’d developed served as a filter and it had a strong anti-virus software installed on it, as well.
“Got it,” Parker said, her voice cheerful, right before she closed the safe she’d just gone through.
“Good,” Nate answered. “Get out.”
Parker nodded, unseen by anyone but Hardison, and disconnected the device. The brightness behind Hardison’s eyes dimmed, but it didn’t disappear completely – the data was now filtered over the internet and Hardison’s secondary back-up systems and his external computers. It allowed him to pay almost attention to the elegant arch of Parker’s body as she left the office the way she’d come in, through the open window.
As soon as she was gone, Hardison released his grip on the camera feed. He checked his memories briefly, to see if Eliot was still in the building, but he was long gone, a pile of unconscious goons the only sign that he’d ever been there.
Sighing softly, he let go of that camera as well. One last sweep through the data that was still circling through his brain, to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, any trace that Eliot and Parker had ever been there, and he allowed himself to retreat and his brain to relax.
Gradually, he became aware of his comfy chair under him, the sweat drying on his skin, and the dryness of his mouth, and slowly, he was able to hear the sounds of the street outside his van again.
Rough, warm fingers brushed against his temple, along the shell of his ear and his neck, mindful of the wires and cables connecting Hardison to his computer.
Hardison smiled softly and reached up, to disconnect himself from them and power down those parts of his brain that usually lied dormant, unless he was hacking. Only then did he open his eyes, to avoid the overstimulation of his cerebral cortex.
Eliot was crouched down next to him. His fingers were gripping Hardison’s shoulder tightly now, reminding Hardison physically that he was human, flesh and blood and all the stuff in between them, and not a computer.
“You okay?” Eliot asked, his voice a deep growl that sent a shiver down Hardison’s back; a shiver he would remember later, when he was less exhausted and had some food in him, and when they weren’t busy with a job.
He groped blindly at the table next to him, searching for the bottle of orange soda he’d put there earlier. He needed the rush of sugar now – it wasn’t often that he had to dive so deeply into a computer system, and it had exhausted him.
Parker handed him the bottle and Hardison took it with a grateful croak that was supposed to be a thank you. His throat felt parched, his tongue swollen, and his hands were shaking slightly when he took it.
He’d only taken a few sips when the door was yanked open, and Nate and Sophie climbed into the van, their part of the con completed as well. Eliot gave Hardison a short glance before climbing across his out-stretched legs and into the driver’s seat.
Before he did, he brushed his fingers against Hardison’s temple again, a quick, fleeting touch, so soft and brief that nobody else had noticed, except Parker maybe.
Hardison reached up to rub his temples. The scars where the connective wire had been put in so many years ago were long-faded, almost invisible to the eye and touch, but they were still there, surrounding the parts where he could plug himself into a computer and following the wires on his skull, and the skin surrounding them still tingled from Eliot’s touch and reminded Hardison that, despite the electronic equipment that had formed an interface straight to his brain and that had allowed him to become one of the best hackers of his generation, he still was, underneath all of that, not a computer, but a man.
A man in love.
~end.
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no subject
:)) Hardison so would be the first in line for that :))