This is an ongoing Tír na Cali/Leverage fanfiction crossover.

Table of Contents here

Fade in from commercial to find Lord Lorcan the center of attention from the whole room. “I think I have a plan,” he begins. “You see, while the royals of Tír na Cali are as much prisoners in our country as our slaves our on our estates – some might say more so…”

Sophia, Duchess Charlotte Prentiss, is making her goodbyes while her entourage loads the car. “It was so nice of you to let me stay here, Lorcan, and so good to see you again.”

“Lovely to see you as well, Charlotte. You should visit more often, I do so enjoy your company.” He has to stand on his toes to kiss her cheeks, but he does so with no apparent discomfort or embarrassment. “You’re like a breath of fresh air here, and I do get tired of the stagnant ocean breeze.”

Charlotte’s laugh carries, the same way Lorcan’s voice and hers do – by design, without sounding as if they are doing so on purpose. Lorcan is smooth; he could be a grifter himself.

“Oh, Lorcan, you’re so funny. You really should visit me sometime.”

“Oh, I’ll try, but you know how my mother and my grandmum are. They don’t like to let me out of their sight for long.”

“You could tell them I’ll take good care of you, dear.”

“I’m sure they’d believe you, too. Oh,” He makes a moue, “where has my brain gone? I almost forgot my parting gift for you.”

Flash back to Lorcan, who is flipping through images on Lady Anastasia’s laptop – redheaded girl after redheaded girl. “The thing about Californian royalty – well, it’s two things. One. We all look the same. It’s not just dear Ana here and her sisters. We all look the same.”

“Your royals wear collars?” Parker leans forward to study an image – a mug shot, really, a girl in her late teens wearing a steel collar. Her hair is pulled back, and her face is nearly Ana’s.

“Two,” Lorcan answers, without appearing to notice the question, “we tend to fuck our slaves.”

He pretends not to notice the look that Hardison and Parker shoot Eliot.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/746455.html. You can comment here or there.

This is an ongoing Tír na Cali/Leverage fanfiction crossover.

Table of Contents here

Fade in from commercial. Lady Anastasia has Alec Hardison pinned to the floor, one hand pointing a gun at his chest. Her eyes, however, are on Sophie and Parker.

“You really are a family, aren’t you?”

The two women – and Alec – look to Nate. He clears his throat, and steps forward, commanding Ana’s attention. “We’re a team,” he begins. “We started out as a bunch of professional criminals. The longer we worked together, the more of a team we became.”

“You came here to extract your teammate.” There’s no question at all in her voice. Still on his knees, Eliot rolls his shoulders. “People just don’t get free from a Californian slave collar.”

“We came to steal us an Eliot.” Nate nods, his fingers steepled. “And you caught us out. So the ball is, ah, in your court, Lady Anastasia. What would you have us do?”

“She can’t…” Eliot closes his mouth. Parker stares at him, but the rest of the team appears to be ignoring his presence.

“Whatever we’re doing, can it involve letting me up. Please?” Hardison hasn’t really moved, but he flaps his hands in the direction of Ana.

That, of course, brings her attention back to him. “You pointed a gun at me.”

“And now you’re pointing a gun at me. Can we call it even?”

“What did I tell you about guns?” Eliot’s grumble sounds almost like himself.

“I know, I know, but freaky Californian lady has my friend, what do you want me to do?”

Sophie fields that question, with a much-put out sigh for emphasis. “Ask nicely, Hardison. She seems like a nice, reasonable Lady, doesn’t she?”

“She’s pointing a gun at me.”

“People have tried to kill her before.” Eliot finds his way to his feet. “Hardison isn’t a killer. He barely knows how to use the thing.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Please…”

“Ana.” Lorcan’s voice drops half an octave, and he holds his hands very carefully in front of him. “I swear to you by the Goddess and the Consort that these people are not here to hurt you.”

Ana sits back on her heels. The gun vanishes into the waistband of her pants, and her hands fold on her lap; she is still sitting on Hardison’s legs, but her eyes are on Eliot. “They want their friend back.”

This time, her voice cracks. Her eyes close for a moment, and it is her turn to swallow hard. “Alessia…”

Lorcan blinks. He opens his mouth, closes it, and then nods. “I think I have a plan…”

Cut to commercial.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/742483.html. You can comment here or there.

This is an ongoing Tír na Cali/Leverage fanfiction crossover.

Table of Contents here

Fade in from commercial. Alec Hardison has a pistol aimed at Lady Anastasia. Eliot rolls up on the balls of his feet, shouting.

“Hardison, no!”

Ana is already moving. The team watches her move, but she is quick – as quick as Eliot, maybe quicker; she moves like a cheetah, grace and deadly speed.

Eliot, already moving, changes directions mid-stride. “Ana, please!”

“She’s Ana now, is she?” There isn’t time for Sophie to say anything more than that; Ana knocks over Hardison with a tackle and disarms him with a move fast enough that nobody really sees it.

“She’s like… Chick Eliot. Hey!” Parker squirms as Eliot – real Eliot, not chick Eliot – grabs her arm. “She’s got Hardison.”

“I know.” Eliot’s voice is tight. “Hardison, hold still.”

“Not that I really have a choice, man.” Ana is sitting on Hardison’s chest, his gun in her hand, her foot on his right ankle. “Eliot, you know this chick?”

“Ah.” Eliot coughs. “Right now, she owns me. Ana, listen.” He clears his throat violently. “Lady Anastasia, please.”

She doesn’t move. “You know these people.”

“They’re… they’re my friends. My team. That’s, ah-”

“Hardison, I’m guessing. He pointed a gun at me.” Her voice is dripping ice. Her finger twitches on the trigger.

“Whoah, whoah. Please.” He drops, very slowly, to his knees. “My lady, I’m…” He clears his throat again. “I’m begging you.”

“You don’t beg.”

“This is my family, my lady. They thought – they -”

Nate clears his throat. “A member of our team went missing, Lady Anastasia.” The title slides off his tongue without effort. “So, quite naturally, we went looking for him. When we realized that he had been taken by slavers, we realized we were going to have to call in local help-”

Lord Lorcan bows. “And as the Duchess and I are old friends…“ He makes the words sound scandalous. “…naturally I offered to help. Anastasia. You have my word these people are not here to hurt you.”

“They pointed a gun at me, Lorcan.” She hasn’t moved except her finger twitching on a trigger. “They pointed a gun at me.”

“And now you’re pointing a gun at them. They are not assassins.”

“Nope. Definitely not assassins. Thieves, sure. Grifters, yep. Not assassins.”

“Parker, do please don’t help.” Sophie’s snark, even, is more careful than normal.

It makes Ana look at them, though. “They – you really are a family, aren’t you?”

Cut to commercial.

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This is an ongoing Tír na Cali/Leverage fanfiction crossover.

Table of Contents here

Fade in from commercial to see Ana and Eliot facing the rest of the team and one small Californian Lord.

“Lord Lorcan.” Ana’s eyes trail over the rest of the team. “I see you brought… friends.” Behind her, Eliot sighs. He shifts his weight, just a bit; Parker’s eyes shoot to him. The rest of the team does a better job of staying nonchalant, but Parker’s eyes are on the collar.

It’s only a moment before Hardison’s eyes follow hers, and it’s Sophie and Nate looking at Ana, and with effort, at that.

Lord Lorcan clears his throat, which doesn’t really help matters. Ana’s eyes don’t move off of him, although her stance is every bit as combat-ready as Eliot’s. Sohpie visibly jumps; Nate’s twitch is a little less obvious.

“He’s wearing a collar.” Parker’s whisper really isn’t a whisper.

“Company,” Lorcan agrees, talking rather hurriedly over Parker. “Yes. This is Charlotte Prentiss, Duchess of Hanover. The others are her entourage; she’s in the country visiting and thought she’d like to meet some of my friends.”

“And you brought her here?” Ana makes an expression which bears some resemblance to a smile, although her bow is entirely genuine. “Duchess. It is a pleasure to meet you, your ladyship. I do hope Lorcan’s only said good things about me.”

“I wouldn’t dare do anything but, you know that.” The little lordling is beginning to babble.

Sophie/Charlotte simply smiles, and returns Ana’s bow with a little head-nod of her own. “Your Ladyship, I’ve heard lovely things about you.” Her accent is thick, almost – almost – over the top. “And Lord Lorcan did say you were a lovely young woman.”

“I’m sure he did.” Ana’s eyes rake over the group. “Was that before or after he offered to help you steal back your friend? Lorcan, you’ve always been a lousy liar and your tells are far too obvious.”

“Oh, fuck this, man.” Hardison brings out a pistol from his computer bag. Everything seems to explode at once.

“Hardison, no!”

Alec levels the gun at Ana; her eyes narrow. Eliot’s shout comes out far too slowly.

Ana moves.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/733894.html. You can comment here or there.

This is an ongoing Tír na Cali/Leverage fanfiction crossover.

Table of Contents here

Fade back in from commercial. Lady Anastasia is sitting on the edge of her bed, a corner of a sheet barely covering her; Eliot is propped up on one elbow, watching her.

A knock sounds on the bedroom door. “Lady Anastasia? You have company.”

Ana slides on a shirt, then swoops up Eliot’s pants with her toes and tosses them at him. “Who is it?”

“The Lord Lorcan ap Malaney, Baron of Red Bluff, and his guest.” There’s a tone to the voice, now, as if the person knocking is quite put out by being asked. Ana sighs.

“One moment, please. If you’ll settle Lord Lorcan and his guest in my sitting room, I’ll be right out.” She opens her dresser and pulls out two weapons holsters – one a knife sheath heavy with blades, the other a cross-draw gun holster.

“As you wish, Lady Anastasia.” Yes, the speaker is definitely put out. “Your guests will be in your sitting room, waiting.”

Ana rolls her eyes as she straps on her holsters, slides home a pistol, and finishes dressing herself. “I think I have…” Her voice has dropped to a murmur. “No better clothes for you yet, sadly.”

“I can live with these.” Eliot’s put on the thin pants while Ana was equipping herself. “You expecting trouble?”

“I always expect trouble.” She rolls her shoulders in something that’s almost a shrug. “It’s saved my life a few times. Here.” She passes him a sheathed knife. “It won’t hide well, but that’s all right.”

“Thanks.” The sheath and belt vanish beneath the thin pants, leaving a dark line on his thigh. “Who’s Lord Lorcan, anyway?”

“Small time only child of a Baroness on the other side of the Duchy.”
She puts on a smile that transforms her face, making her look slightly vapid and not at all deadly. “Ready?”

He braces his shoulders. “Ready.”

Ana’s sitting room

“So, why are you helping us again?” Parker is perched on the edge of a chair, stage-whispering into Lord Lorcan’s ear. He doesn’t seem bothered by her at all.

“As I said, I find ‘Charlotte’s’ little games to be very fun, and I haven’t had fun in quite a while. Besides, if I help you, you’re less likely to make a mess of the Duchy, and that benefits all of us.”

“Hunh.” Parker leans back. “How long are they going to…” The door swings open. Lady Anastasia walks out, impeccably suited as if coming out of a business meeting and not her bedroom. Eliot, collared and shirtless, follows. As the door swings closed, the ropes hanging from the bed are clearly visible.

“Lord Lorcan.” Ana’s eyes trail over the rest of the team. “I see you brought… friends.” Behind her, Eliot sighs.

Cut to commercial.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/729757.html. You can comment here or there.

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

Table of Contents here

“It seems like you’re having some trouble with the Alpha Sisters.” Lord Lorcan is every inch the Californian male – sleek and well-groomed and exquisitely dressed, short, slender, and ginger.

“The Alpha Sisters?” Hardison’s voice is flatter than it should be, and his eyes on the little Lord are not kind. “What do you mean?”

“Alessia, Anastasia, Adalia. The Alpha sisters is what we called them when we were growing up. Of course, there were more of them, back then.” The flop Lorcan makes with his hand has to be affected, nobody is quite that… that on their own. But he seemed to be oblivious both to his own mannerisms and to the way it affects Hardison. “So that’s obviously Anastasia up on your screen, but she’s not really the power in the family. Well, I mean – she’s the power but not the power, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, Lorcan, don’t be obscure.” Sophie pats him on the shoulder. “What sort of power isn’t she?”

“She’s not a political power. As far as we can tell, she never wanted it. Did her time in the service, the way we all do – even me, I can see that look, you know – and just stayed for a while.”

“So her sister is the one interested in the power, then? Alessia?” Sophie has gotten her body between Lorcan and Hardison’s monitors, which lets Hardison change the screen to something innocuous. “She’s the oldest, right?”

“She is. The problem is Adalia has as much ambition as Anastasia. It’s a mess, really.” Lorcan’s vapid smile suddenly gets sharp. “So what’s your problem with them, Charlotte? You’ve never been all that interested in Californian politics before – and you’ve never brought a whole team for a little ol’ grift.”

“He knows me so well.” Sophie pats Lorcan’s arm helplessly.

Anastasia’s Rooms

Ana untangles herself from Eliot and from the long snake of sheet wrapped around them. “I could wish that you wanted to stay. But…”

“But?” Eliot props himself up on one elbow. The sheet that half-covers Ana is not up to the task of covering much of Eliot, but neither of them appear to mind. At the moment, neither of them appear to mind much at all.

“But if you were the sort of man who would want to stay here, in my collar, you wouldn’t be the sort of man that was so much fun with.” She pats his bicep gently. “I’ll have to live with a couple weeks.”

A knock sounds at the bedroom door. “Lady Anastasia? You have company.”

Cut to commercial.

Next: Xv

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