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), Deleted Scene (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.
And now back to the plot
Fade in: Sophie, Hardison, Parker, and Nate are looking at the screens, standing shoulder to shoulder as Hardison flips through files.
“Dead – poisoning. Dead – pet tiger got her. Dead – slipped and fell off a balcony into a pool that happened to have a hair dryer drop into it. Seriously.” Hardison shakes his head. “Dead, assassin.”
“Well, that’s not even trying.” Sophie clucks. “Someone is picking off members of the family line here, aren’t they? This is a little crass even for California.”
“You’re telling me. The thing is – Alessia, Anastasia, and Adalia, they used to be the youngest three sisters.”
“So someone is cleaning up the line of succession.” Nate frowns.
“And there’s nothing saying it isn’t the girl who has our Eliot. Is that her?” Sophie shakes her head. “She looks common.”
“I think she looks pretty.” Parker is frowning. “Too pretty. But look at the way she’s standing, the way her hands are. Thief?”
“Parker, she’s royalty.”
“A moment ago she was common.”
“All right, all right you two. Nate, can’t you-?”
“Don’t look at me.”
“Right. So, she could be a thief, Parker, because we don’t know much at all about her. She did her mandatory two years in the service – “
“What, like Israel?”
“Pretty much exactly, except that their royals get a pass, they all do their FBI-like Agency. So there’s nothing about her service, anywhere. It’s all redacted. Everything.”
“What about the Agency servers?”
“Girl, you think I can just waltz into their secure servers?”
“Well, good because I did. And there’s nothing there, either.”
“So, this girl, that owns – oh, I hate that word – that owns our Eliot right now, she’s a cipher, a blank page.”
“Does that mean we can scribble on her?” Parker smiles.
Sophie’s smile in return is unkind. “Oh, yes. We are going to scribble in all of her margins.”
Eliot wakes tied to Anastasia’s bed; the petite redhead is curled on top of him, her head on his shoulder, the curve of her body figleafing both of them. He twitches, but she’s got him bound pretty well. “Ana,” he whispers, and then, a little louder, “Anastasia.”
He twitches against the ropes when she doesn’t wake, and says her name a little louder. “Ana… your Ladyship.” Her shoulder twitches but she says nothing. “Damnit…” He twists until he can see the ropes binding his wrists and then, with a soft grunt and trying not to move much, he starts to twist out of the bindings.
Ana’s eyes open, but she says nothing; she watches him for a moment and then closes her eyes as Eliot manages to finish untying his first wrist.
Cut to commercial.
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