This is … what happens when you let me watch an entire season of Leverage in a week and a half. *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.
(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
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You have two links to “Part VII” and none to Part VIII. (This is why we don’t use Roman numerals most of the time. 😉