Work Header

tyrants tend gardens

Work Text:

A job goes south. Everyone gets out but Parker, and Eliot is about to go back in for her when a familiar voice comes over the com: "Hello, little thief."

Eliot freezes. The others are silent. Parker says, "You have pretty eyes."

Methos — holy fuck, Methos, goddamnit all to hell — laughs. "You're lucky I was on shift today," he purrs, and that tone, that tone. Eliot remembers that tone. He loved and hated and worshipped and feared that tone. "Little thief," Methos says, "if you get to the roof in the next two minutes, I'll let you go."

Parker says, "You'll get in trouble," even as the others and Eliot yell, "Parker, GO!"

Methos laughs again, and Eliot shivers. "This job has grown boring anyway, my dear. Your little break-in is the most excitement in years." A pause, then, "Half a minute gone, little thief."

"Okay," Parker says.

Silence except for her breath. Eliot meets her on the neighboring roof and initiates his first hug in a long time. He doesn't say, goddamnit, girl, you got any idea how lucky you are? or, fuck, fuck, he's alive, of course he's alive, or we're all taking a vacation for the next year.

He can feel the buzz now, and knows the Old Man is letting him. Couldn't feel it before. Had no idea. Would never have let the team take this job if he knew.

Methos is laughing at him.

Eliot doesn't say, if it had been anyone else, you'd be dead. Methos has always had a soft spot for the broken. His favorites were the ones he broke himself, but he'd be able to see how special Parker is. And he let her go. Any human guards, any other immortal…

But Death had her in his grasp, and Parker and Hardison and Sophie and Nate have no idea.

Death had her and let her go, and Eliot wants to yell at them all, the foolish, lucky children, and he can't, and he knows the Old Man is laughing at him about it.

Fuck it. He's taking them all on vacation, whether they want to go or not.