The Collar Job, Deleted Scene

Part I (and on LJ), Part II (and on LJ), Part III (and on LJ), Part IV (and on LJ), Part V (and on LJ), Part VI (and on LJ), Part VII (and on LJ), Part VIII (and on LJ), Part IX (and on LJ), Part X (and on LJ), Part XI (and on LJ).

This is … *cough* Tír na Cali/Leverage fanfiction crossover.

It’s written in an experimental style for me, and, well, it’s fanfic, so pls. be kind.

(this one is a Deleted scene between parts XI and XII. It is far less prime-time safe than the rest of the fic)

~~ Deleted Scene ~~

Lady Anastasia stands, her feet spread shoulder-width apart, her hands loose at her sides, knees slightly bent. In contrast to Lady Alessia, she’s wearing loose pants and a cami; her hair is in a loose ponytail.

She’s looking at Eliot, who hasn’t moved from his chair since she changed his collar, replacing the shock collar with something light and gold. He’s looking at her. His hands are loose in his lap, his feet flat on the ground.

“Tie me up.” When he speaks, it’s sudden and harsh; she rolls forward on her toes.

“What?” Her hands tighten and loosen, not quite making fists. “I just took the cuffs off.

“Look…” He rolls his head and tries again. “Look… Lady Anastasia… I make you nervous. I get that. So tie me up.”

“How am I going to tie a specialist like you so that you can’t just use it as a weapon?” She’s rolling forward on her feet again: thinking about something.

“Tie me to your bed.” Eliot holds his hands out, baring his wrists. “If it’s that thing over there, I can’t break it.”

“Why?” She steps forward, stops again. “I just got the shock collar and the cuffs off. You fought them the whole time.” With his wrists up, the chafe marks are obvious.

“That wasn’t the cuffs. That was her.“ He steps up, and Lady Anastasia lands back abruptly onto her heels. “You’re being nice. Polite. I like it. And you’re frightened of me.”

“If I tie you to my bed…” She smirks at him. “It’s going to raise different issues.”

Eliot smiles. “You were straddling me a minute ago.”

“That I was.” She watches him as her smile slides back off her face. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I’m always serious. Are you?”

She licks her lips, and then, reaching a decision, takes a step back and gestures at the bed. “You first.”

He doesn’t say anything, letting his actions speak for him.

Her bed is a monstrosity of wrought-iron, metal shaped like trees twisting up to the ceiling. Nobody makes her bed; the sheets are tossed near the footboard, and the pillows are in disarray.

Eliot lays down on the bed, shifting until he’s comfortable, and reaches over his head, grabbing the headboard with both hands. “Looks like it’s made for it.”

“It probably was.” Anastasia straddles his stomach; somewhere between her sitting room and her bed she’s gotten a looped length of blue nylon rope. “You will tell me if anything is unpleasant, uncomfortable, or unwanted.”

He smirks at her. “Yes, Lady Anastasia.”

It gets an embarrassed chuckle, which it was supposed to, and gets her moving with the rope, which it was also supposed to.

She pulls his pants off before she ties his ankles, leaving him spread-eagled across her white sheets. She hesitates for a moment when he’s tied, a bandanna in her hands.

“Do it.” He leans forward, straining against the ropes. “Go ahead.” He winces. “…Lady Anastasia.”

“How long did my sister have you?” She folds the bandanna carefully and ties it over his eyes.

“I don’t know. A week?” He can’t shrug, tied as he is, but he moves against the ropes. The bedframe doesn’t move.

“Mmm. Let me make it up to you?” She reaches over and turns off the lamp.

“Whatever you want.”
~~ End Deleted Scene ~~

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