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)
Part XII (and on LJ)

Fade in from commercial. Eliot and the lady Anastasia are naked in bed; Eliot is in the process of untying himself and Ana appears to be asleep.

It doesn’t take long, longer than it would normally because he’s trying not to wake her. She stirs at one point; he freezes. She moans quietly and rolls over, and Eliot waits, counting silently but his lips moving, for a count of twenty.

When she makes no more noise, he finishes getting his last ankle and then, moving very slowly and a bit unevenly, he hurries to the bathroom.

Ana’s eyes open as the bathroom door shuts. She stays where she is, as if she hasn’t woken. When the bathroom door opens again, she closes her eyes and stirs, just a bit.

Eliot pauses at the door. He looks at the “sleeping” Lady, and then at the exit. His hand goes to the collar, just brushing it. His sigh is a full-body thing, frustrated and sad.

He lays back in bed as carefully as he got out of it, and begins tying his ankles as they had been.

“Don’t bother.”

Ana’s voice freezes Eliot. “How long have you been awake?”

“Woke up while you were in the bathroom. You could’ve gotten out of the ropes at any point?”

“Well, not during…” He lays down, carefully, next to her, not quite touching her. “Not when you were watching.”

“Not a very good restraint system then, is it?” She rolls over to look at him; if he was looking at her, he’d see that she was smiling.

His eyes are closed, though, and his body tense. “You could use steel.”

“I could. But you came back. Why?”

He touches the collar, carefully, as if afraid it will bite him. “There’s a tracker in here, and I don’t know how to get the thing off without killing myself.”

“A good reason,” she agrees, although her voice is rather flat. “Well, then. If you’re not going to run away – or kill me – and I’m not going to tie you up, we might as well do something entertaining.”

Now, Eliot turns to look at her. “Like what?”

Duchess Charlotte Prentiss’s rooms

“It’s going to take us a few days. This Barony – Baronessy? – they’re not exactly known for being friendly. Not surprising, with the way they’re dropping like flies. I’m working on building everything we need, but it’s not like we can slip in as slaves. They do everything in-house.” Hardison runs a hand over his short-cropped hair. “Still working, Nate.”

“Anything I can help with?” Lord Lorcan walks into the room, all five foot six and one hundred three exquisitely-dressed pounds of him. “It seems like you’re having some trouble with the Alpha Sisters.”

Cut to commercial.

XiV

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/714105.html. You can comment here or there.

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)

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?”

“Yes.”

“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.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/700738.html. You can comment here or there.

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 ~~

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 ~~

Part the next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/700738.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/700461.html. You can comment here or there.

Part I (and on LJ)

(this appears to be at least a two-parter at this point, in terms of TV episodes.)

Fade in from commercial.

“They’re going to do something stupid.” Eliot is holding Lady Anastasia’s cell phone and looking – affectionately frustrated. She, in turn, looks a little bemused.

“These friends of yours…”

“Team. They’re my team.”

“Special forces?” Her shoulders tense, just a little bit.

“No. Different sort of team.” He looks up at her, clearly weighing what he’s going to say. “We being overheard?”

“Not as long as the phone is off. My apartment is bug-free, at least.”

Eliot looks at the phone, turns it off, and hands it over to Anastasia. His movements are very careful, slow, and deliberate; even so, hers are every bit as cautious as she takes the phone from him and backs – backs – towards the other side of her room.

Eliot tracks her movement. “I’m not going to attack you.” It’s more of a grumble than would really be reassuring, but it gets her attention.

“I didn’t live this long turning my back on warriors.”

“Look, I -” His hands go to the collar around his neck. There’s a twitch that seems to move his entire body. “Look, your Ladyship, I belong to you. Yeah? That’s how it works?”

“That’s how it works.” She is watching him like a rabbit watching a snake. “That doesn’t mean you won’t snap my neck.”

“You’re going to have to turn your back on me eventually. It’s either that or put me back in chains.”

“If you’re as good as I think you are, chains would just irritate you.”

“Enough chains might slow me down.”

“They might. But that would bring its own problems.”

Eliot doesn’t say anything for a minute. His jaw is working but no sound is coming out.

“Tie me up.”

~

“All right, I’ve got them. This isn’t going to be easy, Nate-”

“It’s never easy. When it’s easy, then everything goes wrong. What do you have?”

“Relax, would you? Look, we’re all stressed about Eliot.” Hardison’s voice is sharper than the words would suggest.

They are sitting around their suite – Nate and Hardison, alone – Nate looking through piles of papers and Hardison manipulating computer networks through a bank of monitors that look entirely out of place.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” There is a glass next to Nate’s elbow; it is empty. He looks at it, looks at the bottle of whisky, and looks back at Hardison. “What do you have?”

“All right, so this family has three sisters, right? Alessia, Anastasia, and Adalia. Pretty common for Tír na Crazy here, except, one, none of them are twins – “

“That’s uncommon?”

“Man, where you been? They have all the twins, the more royal, the more twin. And secondly, there used to be seven of them.”

Cut to commercial.

Next: Deleted Scene – http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/700461.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/694293.html. You can comment here or there.

Part I (and on LJ)

(There are a lot of commercials. It’s being played on one of those syndicated-show channels, I suppose, TNT or Spike or something.)

Fade in from commercial. Eliot’s face is twisted, something like hope combined with conflict.

“But you can’t tell anyone.” Anastasia’s voice is very quiet, and very serious. “You tell anyone, you might get us both killed.”

It takes Eliot a moment to find his voice. When he speaks, his voice is a bit rough. “You really think someone’s going to kill you, don’t you?”

“What do they say? ‘It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you?’ Yes.” Anastasia nods. “I know that at least three of my relatives and one non-rel- non-close-relation would like me dead, and two of them are actively working on it.”

“Lady, what did you do?“

Anastasia’s smile is grim. “I get in the way.”

Eliot nods. He understands getting in the way. “So.” He coughs. “A month.”

“Yes.” She nods slowly. “That’s long enough to satisfy Alessia that you’re not going to go rogue and kill me, short enough that you might not actually go rogue and kill me.”

Eliot takes it in, and nods. “All right.” He looks at the phone, thinks about it for a moment, and dials.

In a suite somewhere else in California, Nate picks up his phone, checks, and speaks very carefully. “This is Nathan Ford.”

“Nate. This is Eliot. I’ve only got three minutes, don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Are you safe?” Nathan mouths “Eliot” to Hardisson, who shifts his typing to another keyboard.

“Right now? I think so. Look… don’t come after me, all right? Lady Anastasia-” He puts emphasis on her name. Nearby, the Lady in question has settled into a chair to listen. “She’s not like her sister, Lady Alessia. I can handle things here until I can find an exit.”

Nathan is scribbling down names. “Do you know how you got taken?”

“Tranq dart.” Eliot sounds disgusted. “They’ve got some good drugs here. Seriously, Nate, don’t try to come in. The Californian security is too tight, and you don’t have me with you. You’ll get caught.”

Nate shares a look with Sohpie. “Eliot – are you being listened to?”

Eliot glances at Anastasia. “I’m wearing a fucking slave collar, Nate, what do you think?”

“I think it’s likely you’re being monitored. So, do you want us to come for you?”

“No!” Eliot’s growl is in full force. “Fuckit, Nate… no.”

“All right, Eliot. I trust you. Listen – take care of yourself.”

“We miss you, Eliot!” Parker leans over Nate to call it into the phone. Nate hangs up the phone and looks over his crew.

“Lady Alessia. Lady Anastasia. Find out everything you can.”

Eliot hangs up the phone. “They’re going to do something stupid.”

Cut to commercial.

Part XI – http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/694293.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/693756.html. You can comment here or there.

Part I (and on LJ)

(There are a lot of commercials. It’s being played on one of those syndicated-show channels, I suppose, TNT or Spike or something.)

Come back from commercial. Hardisson is leaning against the door to a luxurious-looking suite, half holding it closed and half propping himself up.

“These stepford slaves are creeping me out,” he declaims, mostly to Sophie. “We’d better get Eliot soon. I’m going to go postal here.” He waves his hand in punctuation.

“I’m working on it, I’m working on it.” Sophie pats the air placatingly. “But Lady Arabella’s daughters are not the easiest people to talk to, and we can’t just waltz in to a Baroness’ house, you know.”

“Maybe we can.” Hardisson stands up straight. “I have an idea.”

Back in Lady Anastasia’s room

The Lady in yoga pants is straddling Eliot, her hands around his throat. “Hold still,” she murmurs, despite the fact that he is already holding very still. “She booby-trapped this, the bitch. There’s going to be a little shock.”

“I’ve been shocked before. I can take it.” Eliot clenches his jaw.

“Okay. Ready… now.” The zap comes over a full-body flinch from Eliot. Anastasia tosses the collar away, and we see a thin ring of gold in her hands. “This is a bit decorative for you, but it’s nicer than that piece of shit.”

The click sounds loud against Eliot’s silence. He rolls his head and flexes his hands. “Don’t you need it? If you’re scared I’m going to kill you.”

“Too late for that now.” She touches his shoulders, and then, rather slowly, slips off of Eliot’s lap. “I don’t think it would stop you, anyway.”

“It might.” He stands, slowly, still rolling his head and clenching and unclenching his hands. “Feels weird.”

“It does that, changing collars. Especially after a horrid thing like that.” She tosses him her cell phone. “Three minutes, and I’ll stay in the room.”

He looks at the phone, looks at her, and nods. The soulful face he pulls, just for a moment, is the Eliot who’s running a con. “Thank you, Lady Anastasia.”

“Look, before you dial.” She swallows, her throat working as if over a thick lump. “I can’t let you go right away. I have to survive here, you know? I have to live with Alessia, which means I have to accept the ‘gifts’ she gives me, even if they’re meant to kill me.”

“Sounds like a fucked up family, Lady.” Eliot moves the phone from hand to hand, not dialing yet.

“You don’t know the half of it. But one month. In one month, I can ‘get bored with you,’ that’s longer than Alessia’s attention span anyway. And I’ll put you on a plane back to the US.”

Eliot’s head whips up.

“But you can’t tell anyone. You tell anyone, you might get us both killed.”

Cut to commercial.

Part X – http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/693756.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/688747.html. You can comment here or there.

Part I (and on LJ)

Luck of the draw pulled it up twice on my list in a day, after being off rotation for over a week!

Fade back in from commercial. Sophie is wielding a folded piece of paper. “We are not Americans.”

“Because of your…” Parker squints. “Your take-out menu?”

Sophie seems to deflate. “Well, it’s supposed to be my passport, but I don’t exactly carry it around with me, do I?”

“Anyway, you might not be American, but I was born here, and so was Alec… Hardisson. So was Hardisson.”

“It’s cool, Parker, I’ve got this.” Hardisson held up both hands. “We can be English. We can be anything that we want. I’m just that cool. Going in as the Duchess, then? You don’t like her, do you?”

“I don’t like her.” Sophie’s smile is small and tight. “But the Californians love her.”

~

“Here, sit down here.” Lady Anastasia still has her arm around Eliot’s waist; she guides him to an overstuffed armchair in what looks like an expensive but rather spartan bedroom. He sits heavily, shifting and trying to get comfortable while still cuffed hand and foot.

“You really think I’m here to kill you?”

“You’re really not?” She falls into a cross-legged seat at his feet. “Here, hold still.”

“I don’t want to be here at all, lady.” He falls still. “What are you doing?”

She pulls the keys Alessia gave her from her pocket. “Unlocking you.”

Eliot stares down at her, angry all over again. “Why?” Pause. “My lady.”

She looks up at him, her expression serious – a mirror of the face he often wears, albeit in a more gamine face. “Considering the training you’ve likely had, if you’re going to kill me, the shackles will only irritate you. If you’re not going to kill me, there’s no reason to cause you further discomfort.”

“I never said I really was black ops.”

“You never said you weren’t, either. And besides -”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Something like that.” She scoots back, holding the shackles in one hand. “Wrists.”

He shifts so that she can reach the handcuffs, his back to her. “So, now what?”

“Well, first I’m going to get that monstrosity off of you. And then… then we can talk.”

“Look, I’ve got a team back home. Friends. Is there any way I could call them, send them an e-mail?”

She stills. The cuffs come off. “A brief call. But first, I want to talk about a couple things.”

He rubs his wrists. “You’re in charge.”

“Here.” She moves him with a couple light pushes. “One more piece of jewelry to deal with.”

Eliot’s hands go to the collar. “You’ll get this thing off of me?”

She reaches into her drawer and fiddles around for a few minutes. “There has to be a collar. But there doesn’t have to be that thing.”

He stills. “Do it.”

An estate in California

“These… these stepford slaves are creeping me out.” Hardisson closes the door. “We’d better get Eliot soon. I’m going to go postal here.”

Cut, once again, to commercial.

Part IX – http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/688747.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/685164.html. You can comment here or there.

Part I (and on LJ)

Luck of the draw pulled it up twice on my list in a day, after being off rotation for over a week!

Fade in from commercial to Eliot’s face and the back of Anastasia. Her red hair is in a loose ponytail that hangs all the way down her very-straight spine, and her hands are tight at her sides.

“Before you kill me, there’s something you should know.”

Eliot looks up at her, his hair falling in his face yet again. “Who says I’m going to kill you… my Lady?” His eyes drop to her bare hands as he tacks on the honorific.

Her voice is soft as she answers, and rushed, but each word is clipped off with military precision. “You’re an angry black ops operative my darling sister gifted me. There’s only one reason to do that.”

“You can’t know I’m black ops.” His feet shift.

“It’s a very distinctive stance.” She smirks faintly. “So – before we get to my rooms. Before you kill me, you need to know that my will does not, as Alessia believes and probably told you, leave everything to her. Any slaves in my possession are willed to the Agency.”

Eliot stills. “Assuming I was here to kill you – I’m not saying I am – why would that stop me?”

“Because if my sister convinced you to put on a collar so that you could get close to me, she probably told you that you’d go free when the job was done. And you won’t.”

Despite everything, Eliot laughs. “Lady, your sister couldn’t convince me of anything.”

She doesn’t shift much, but she does manage a little bit of a smile. “Then we have something in common. Let’s get to my room where we’re less likely to be overheard.”

The Airport

“Charlotte Prentiss, Duchess of Hanover.” Sophie is dressed to the nines, the very picture of a travelling Duchess. Behind her, the remaining members of the team appear to be her retinue; Hardison and Parker in well-tailored suits, presumably her bodyguards, Nate as her secretary. Nate passes over the paperwork to the customs agent. “I’m here to visit my good friend Lord Lorcan ap Malaney, Baron of Red Bluff. These are my… assistants.”

Flash back to the office

“The problem with running a con in Tír na Cali – well, there’s a lot of problems, for one.” Hardison looks as if he’s neither bathed nor shaved in days. “Start with the nearly – I did say nearly – unhackable computer systems, then add on their secure borders and top it off with they do not like Americans and we don’t like them. This is not difficult, this is impossible.”

“Lucky for us.” Sophie’s accent has already begun to shift to something more urbane and aristocratic. “We are not Americans.”

Cut to Commercial

Part VIII – http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/685164.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/679176.html. You can comment here or there.