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