The Bunny Farm

-Mossad Agent and Retrieval Specialist-
The leverage crew was doing a job near D.C., Nate and Sophie both back to make sure the dirty politician went down without anyone getting hurt. Hardison was in Lucille IV, chattering away to Parker and Eliot who were hiding in an air vent and lurking outside respectively. The voices of his teammates was a pleasant white noise in the back of his head, but Eliot wouldn't admit it if questioned. Over the six years they'd been together the group had gone from crew, to team, to family, and if he had to be honest Eliot didn't mind. He'd keep his promise to Sophie, no matter what.

Pacing down to the opposite corner of the block, Eliot kept his eyes open for anything that could be a threat. Their client claimed the politician had her brother killed, a navy guy working on some intelligence stuff that stumbled upon something that would ruin the politician's career. The goal was for Parker to steal the information and Hardison leak it publicly, while Sophie and Nate got the man's bank account and cleaned him out. Eliot was just back up, which he was perfectly fine with.

He started walking back around to the front of the building when Hardison's voice cut in. "Heads up people, NCIS team just got here. Damn that woman parks as bad as Parker," the hacker trailed off, and Eliot ignored Parker's indignant 'Hey!' as he started walking a little faster.

"How many?" He asked quietly, hoping there wouldn't be a fight. It was always a Bad Idea to fight cops, but Eliot wouldn't let his team get caught.

Hardison's answer came right as Eliot rounded the corner, but it was too late to do anything since Eliot came face to face with someone he hadn't seen in a very long time. "Miss David," he said, narrowing a glare at her but keeping things civil for the sake of the public around them.

"Spencer," she greeted just as coolly, crossing her arms. She looked just the same, besides the gun at her waist was US military issue and she had an NCIS badge clipped to her belt. Plus they weren't both covered in sand this time. "Didn't know you were in DC."

In his ear Eliot could hear Hardison and Parker questioning him about the con but he ignored them. He crossed his own arms and smirked. "Didn't know you were keepin' tabs on me."

She smiled as well, though it was anything but friendly. "I hadn't thought it necessary. Last I checked you were dead."

"Yeah, no thanks to you. Pretty sure the doctor left a piece of your bullet in me if you want it back," he shot back, rolling his shoulder at the memory and able to imagine the small shard embedded behind his collarbone. If he really wanted he could have a proper procedure done to remove it, but with the crew he didn't want to risk being out of commission. Speaking of. "What's NCIS doing here?"

She sends him a sharp look that Eliot is pretty sure is meant to be intimidating, and he's waiting for a snarky reply when a voice behind him says, "Our jobs." Eliot curses himself for not paying attention, looking over his shoulder at the silver haired man that screams ex-marine. The man's eyes don't break from Eliot's, but the hitter knows he isn't being addressed when he asks, "Friend of yours?"

"I'm not sure that's the word you'd use," David said, and Eliot could damn near hear her smirking.

"I was just leaving." Eliot flashes the man a smile, pitching his voice to catch the rest of the crew's attention and get them the hell out of there. David he could probably have handled, but the older guy has something in his eyes that sets Eliot's teeth on edge. "See ya round David," he says, finally tearing his eyes away from the man's to David's, nodding at the apparently ex-Mossad agent before walking away. He disappeared into the small crowd --crossing back on his path just to make sure no one was following him-- and joined the others at Lucille. Parker and Sophie were already back, with Nate taking a little longer to get out undetected, and Hardison was already tapping at his computers.

Nate's voice came over the coms, the background noises changing as he left the building. "Eliot is the job blown?"

It still shook Eliot a bit how much faith Nate and the others put in him. He tucked his hair behind his ears and shook his head no. "We aren't. But someone else is on the case, and we do not wanna mess around with them."

"Friend of yours?" Sophie asked, glancing from the passenger seat to the trio in the back.

Eliot thought about what David had said and remembered when they had ran into each other on one of his retrieval jobs. Honestly, if she had wanted to kill him she could have easily, but she had given him half a chance with shooting him in the shoulder. In his line of work that meant a hell of a lot more than he was willing to admit. "Don't know if that's the right word, but something like that."

-Trio of Soldiers-
The vacation in New York was just that. A family vacation of sorts, where the whole crew could just relax and enjoy themselves. Sophie seemed determined to shop the entire time, Hardison all but moved into the big Apple store, and Parker was having a blast in the ten stroy toy store or whatever. Nate was happily drinking in a seedy bar where nobody knew him, limiting himself to only a few drinks and savoring the whiskey.

His phone, of course, chose to ring right then.

Sighing heavily he put his glass down and flipped open the burner phone, answering with hopefully clear annoyance. "Hello?"

"Hey Nate."

Nate blinked, sitting up a little straighter at Eliot's voice. The hitter didn't sound hurt, but with Eliot one could never be sure. "Are you in a hospital?"

The nervous laugh coming from the other end of the line told Nate enough, and his curiousity only grew. "No. No hospital this time. Listen, Nate, I need a favor."

"Sure." Eliot never asked for anything, so even though Nate kept his voice on the edge of disinterested he would have agreed to move the moon for the hitter.

There was a shuffling sound on the phone and a resigned sigh. "I need you to bail me out of jail. And my friends." In the background, Nate heard someone --an officer he guessed-- yelling about time being up. Eliot rattled off an address, then right before hanging up added, "And if you could bring two of my shirts and my extra boots that'd be great."

The line went dead and Nate was left staring blankly at the bar top, wondering what exactly he'd gotten himself into.

It took a quick call to Hardison to figure out which alias Eliot had been booked under and a short stop at their hotel to grab the clothes, but within the hour Nate was waiting inside the New York City police station to pick up his 'son' and friends for a bar fight. Other than the fact none involved were seriously hurt and that they'd all gotten off on a warning, Nate knew nothing. Well, that and the fact that apparently the group was partially nude.

The door opened and Eliot was the first the exit, followed closely by a man who could have been Eliot's cousin and a blond man that matched Eliot and the stranger in build. Eliot and the blond were both shirtless, and the blond was also missing his shoes. The brunet was the only one who seemed relatively unaffected, but as soon as they saw Nate they all looked more like teenagers than grown men. Figuring that he needed to act in the role of disappointed father, Nate glared pointedly at Eliot and tossed him the bundle of clothes. "Get dressed, then go outside. I'll meet you at the car. All of you." The two men glanced at Eliot and Nate before playing along, and after that it was a simple con to make the police believe their story.

Outside Nate found the three men dressed and clustered around his car, talking quietly. Clearly they knew each other well; the blond had an arm around the others' shoulders and neither man looked uncomfortable at the gesture. Nate stopped a few feet away and put his hands in his pockets, just watching for a moment before clearing his throat. The young men stopped murmuring to themselves and looked over, and Nate raised an eyebrow questioningly. "So, anyone want to explain what happened?"

The trio shifted, three pairs of blue eyes flickering between themselves to hold a silent conversation before settling on Nate's own. Eliot cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck in a sheepish gesture before putting on his 'aw shucks, looky there' southern boy grin that hadn't ever worked on Nate. "It ain't no big deal. We were just enjoying a drink at a dive bar, then some goons decided to be mean to a lady and, well, we decided the right coarse of action was to politely ask them to stop," Eliot said, somehow keeping a straight face the entirety of his explanation.

His blond friend snorted, arms still around the others. "Yeah, if you mean politely asking them to stop by punching them in the face."

"And throwin' a bottle at their heads," the brunet added. Eliot threw glares at both of them, the blond chuckling and the other simply raising a questioning eye at the hitter. "What? I woulda thrown the chair."

Nate could guess for himself how the rest of the story continued, and sighed while trying vainly to stave off a migraine. "Of course you'd get in a bar brawl over a woman's dignity. Now where do I need to drop you two off?" He looked up at Eliot's two friends, noticing the way they started shifting again. "Can I ask how you three know each other?"

Nate got three answers, all at the same instant.

"Old buddies." Eliot.

"Classified." The serious looking brunet.

"Playing in the sandbox." The grinning (smirking?) blond. The two bigger men glanced at him, and he blinked. "What? It's true as your answers."

Again, Nate could put two and two (or one and one and one, in this case) together, and came to what he guessed was a very safe assumption that if he hurt Eliot the other two could and would successfully disappear him. "Do you two need a ride somewhere?" He asked instead, figuring that they'd give him a wrong address if he insist he drove.

"We're good," the brunet cut in quickly, cutting off whatever the blond man was about to say with a hand over his mouth. A metal hand, now that Nate could see it from under the shirt sleeve. Huh. "Thanks for the offer though Mr. Ford."

The blond shook himself free with a twist and spin, somehow ending up behind and on the other side of the brunet, and grinned. "Yeah. And for the bail. Pretty sure Steve woulda killed us if we called him. Again." He laughed, and avoided a headlock with another slightly impressive spinning move. "See you around again Eliot. Don't be afraid to call!" With a final wave, the two walked off, the brunet with his hands in his pockets and the blond damn near tripping himself on air halfway down the block.

Eliot was already getting into the driver side of the car, so Nate took the passenger side and let silence fill the space between them until they were almost to the hotel. "Friends?" Nate finally asked, glancing at his hitter. Eliot shrugged, though there was a smile on his lips and he took off from the light faster than needed.

Three weeks later, after watching the Avengers take down a small (read: large) army of robots on the news, he would recognize the faces of the Winter Soldier and Hawkeye, and wonder how the hell no one had gotten hurt in that bar fight.

-Three Conning Thieves, Two Hunting Brothers, And a Demon in a Sterling Suit-
When Sterling burst into the Brewpub, literally having the doors fly violently open, Parker dove behind the bar and drug Hardison with her. Not surprisingly Eliot stood his ground, finished wiping his hands with the towel at his waist before leaning against the table behind him. "Crowley," he said, politely, which Parker thought was weird because that was clearly Evil-Nate. Then his eyes turned solid red in a super very creepy way, and Parker decided he was probably not Evil-Nate, but probably still Evil. Capital letter and all.

"Mr. Stone," Evil-but-not-Evil-Nate said, and Parker glanced over at Eliot to make sure his eyes didn't turned red or purple or anything. They didn't, and Parker wondered what the funny names were about for all of two beats before Not-Sterling started talking again. "You seem to be alive, despite all odds. If I remember correctly one of my people should have been pocketing your soul a few weeks ago."

"And if I remember correctly, the fella with the red eyes agreed to take me personally. Deals a deal and all that, he held true to his word. Shame you went an' killed him," Eliot drawled, looking smugger than a pickpocket with a new wallet.

The Evil dude glared and pointed a stubby finger at Eliot. "You broke a contract."

Eliot's grin widened and he leaned forward, arms crossed against his chest in a relaxed position as he spoke each word carefully. "He broke our contract. You didn't read the fine print, Mr. King of the Damned."

"So what? You conned me? Thought you could beat me at my own game?" The man looked like he'd just had his money stolen, and Parker resisted laughing as Eliot just shrugged. "You're a mad little mud monkey."

With a sigh, Eliot stood up straight and put on his Scary Face. "Read the contract again. I've got a copy I kept, so I'll know if you try and change it. Until the moment you can come back and show me wrong, get the hell out of my bar. Good night, sir," he said, tacking on the last bit and giving a slight bow of his head at the now red faced man.

The man pointed a finger at Eliot again, jabbing the air in front if him and snapping, "I will be back for you." Between one blink and the next, the man had vanished without a noise and Parker was left staring at a mostly empty Brewpub.

Eliot sighed again, dropping his shoulders and pulling an old flip phone from his pocket. He had the thing ringing and to his ear already when Hardison spoke up, his voice shaking as he asked, "What the hell was that?"

"Nothing you gotta worry about," Eliot grumbled, glancing at them and over them quickly in a way Parker knew was to make sure they weren't hurt.

Parker got up and sat on the bar top in one smooth move, swinging her feet over the side. "Who you calling?"

Eliot watched her for a second, the same checking stare he seemed to like pulling, before breaking eye contact. "Some friends," he said shortly. The other line must have picked up, because their hitter turned away like that would stop Parker from hearing. "Dean? Yeah, it's Eliot. Just letting you guys know Crowley has a cat up his ass if you run into him and wondering if you have some stronger warding. ... Yeah. He showed up at the Brewpub."

-Cop, Robber, and Two Meddling (basically) Mobsters-
They'd moved again. Sometime after Nate and Sophie's failed attempt at being retired Leverage International set up their main HQ in D.C., leaving the Portland Brewpub for Mr. Quinn and Archie to base out of.

Nate liked D.C. and hated it in equal measures. There was a harbor near by their new set up where he could keep his and Sophie's boat, there was shopping, plenty of job opportunities, lots of people to help, all that good stuff. Down side? Lots and lots of both law enforcement and mafia members. Two groups Nate typically avoided interacting with.

And yet, there he was, sitting next to one David Rossi who --despite claims otherwise-- was definitely connected to some family and very much a glorified cop. But he was also a friend, and on that night a fellow spy as the two older men snuck glances across the busy bar/restaurant to a small table tucked away in the back where a couple sat in blissful ignorance.

"How much you want to bet they talk shampoo use at least once tonight?" Nate snorted quietly into his glass of scotch, glancing over at Rossi and grinning as the man shrugged. "I'm jealous of their hair a bit. Though your Spencer should really let it out of that pony tail."

Nate nodded as he glanced back to the table. Eliot wasn't actually there as himself, instead taking on the College Proffesor get up with the useless glasses and hair tied back. A clean cut look for the setting, and matching his date's sweater vest look. "Yours knows who and what exactly Eliot is, right?"

The Italian swirled his glass and made a point of not looking at the table as Eliot's eyes scanned the room for what must have been the fifteenth time. "Of course. The kid's too trusting though, hence my presence. No offense to your boy or anything," he said, though by his tone Nate could tell the line was just shy of a lie. Not that he could blame the man. It was basically the same reason Nate himself had skulked around behind Eliot all through his date.

"None taken," he replied smoothly, and silence settled between the two as they watched the date progress. "An anonymous parton has already paid their bill," he tossed out, glancing at Rossi and noting his smile.

"And someone seems to have gifted the couple a lovely vintage," he said. Both men smiled and Rossi finished his drink, settling the empty tumbler on the bar with a solid tap. "I look forward to when they introduce each other to the families."

Nate groaned and tossed back the rest of his own drink, savoring the slight burn. "Don't remind me. I don't want that headache settling in too soon."

Rossi laughed, the bastard, and left without another word. Nate stayed long enough to see the waiter deliver the bottle of wine, the already paid check, and two pieces of cheesecake Rossi and he both agreed would to well with the bottle. Smiling and sending a silent prayer up that the evening would go well without his continued hovering, Nate followed Rossi's lead and left the two Spencers to their date.

-Bells-
Two years later, in Rossi's backyard and after the ceremonies are over, Sophie wanders about with a glass of fine champagne and looks at all the guests milling about. The entire FBI team was there of course, with their family and all glowing in the shared joy of their youngest member, along with a few members of an NCIS team. Towards the back Sophie spotted three men dressed in jeans and jackets --well, one was in a suit and trench coat-- and a trio of people her eyes had to be mistaking as Avengers. After all, why would the Black Widow, Hawkeye, and the Winter Soldier show up to a backyard wedding?

As if called by the thought Eliot came over to her, grinning and looking as dashing as ever in an all black tux. "There's so many people here today," she commented after being released from his greeting hug. "I didn't know you had this many friends," she teased, very pleased at the bashful grin.

"Honestly, neither did I," Eliot admitted, and Sophie couldn't recall a time when the hitter had looked or sounded any happier.