rodlox (rodlox) wrote,
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Leverage ficlet: "Parker's other warm fuzzies"

Title: 09: Parker’s other warm fuzzies.

Fandoms: Leverage
Author: Keenir

Spoilers: The Nigerian Job, The Church Job, The Second David Job
Character(s): Hardison, Parker

POV: Hardison’s.
Word count: 489

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: None of them are mine.
Summary: There are consequences to not knowing the whole story.

Hens’n’Chicks

Crown of Thorns

Lt Meg Austin was Commander H.Rabb’s partner (on JAG) before Col. Sarah MacKenie joined.

click here for the fic

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It really shouldn’t be so easy to break into HQ this late at night – thieves oughta know how to stop thieves, after all – but here I am, proof that it can indeed be done. Down the hallway to Parker’s office, where I work the lock – electronics’re just my specialty, I can handle stuff that doesn’t have wires, just prefer not to, is all.

I see Eliot’s been here earlier – there’s a potted plant on Parker’s desk; hens’n’chicks, that’s the thing – or maybe he left the crown-of-thorns that’s in the corner (my nana had one of them), and Nate or Sophie left the other one.

No matter. I deposit my gift-wrapped present on the chair behind Parker’s desk, and leave, thoughtful to lock up on my way out.

I got her bunny slippers. Parker likes rabbits, after all. Hard part was finding her size.

* * * * * * *

Next Day:


“Hardison, can you come here?”

I look at Eliot, and he looks at me. “Was that Parker just now?” Eliot asked.

“Sure sounded like her,” I say. First time she’s ever used the in-office intercom.

Eliot looks behind us, and there’s no Parker there. “Something’s wrong,” he says in that tone that’s usually followed by him or Nate going ‘pull out, the job’s gone south.’ “Go see what she wants.”

“Gee, you think?”

But I go, since Parker called, instead of just showing up in that nearly-magic way she has. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Parker was like Gandalf and Sauron…okay, I did not need that image of Parker with the One Ring. I stick my head in her office (the door was open), and say hi.

“Come in, Mister Hardison,” Parker says, wearing dress whites. Air Force dress whites.

Her hands’re clean – now, anyways – but there’s definitely been some gardening going on in here. Potting soil’s slapdashedly scatted over the desk and carpet, and the slippers’ box lies open and disgarded alongside the trash can. What happened here?

“Happy Birthday,” I say, because its true and in case it helps.

“Were the bunny slippers from you?” with that penetrating stare she has even when she’s being someone else.

“Yeah.”

“Meanie.”

What? “I thought you liked bunnies.”

“Live ones.”

This’ gonna be Santa Claus all over again, ain’t it? “Parker, I’m sorry.”

“We’ll talk about this after the funeral.”

“That’s oka- the funeral?”

She nods. “I mean I buried them, but I had to. We just need Nate to give last rites and anything else they need.”

It’s one thing to be a fly on the wall in that sort of situation. Entirely another to have to take part. “Umm…”

She walks up to me. “Hardison,” she breathes. Dress whites. Blonde hair pulled up in a bun. Oh hell no, how’d she find my Lt Meg Austin fanfiction?

Parker takes my hands. Ow. Ow. Ow ow. Owowow. Ow. Kisses me, brief but fireworks-worthy. Wow. Okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The end

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