The Epilogue Job(s)

Maria Shipp kicked the door to her car so it closed with a slam. Being a US Marshal sometimes meant being stranded in a random town in Louisiana – but after climbing the ranks, she happily took any field work she could get.

Just as she walked up to the coffee shop she had been eyeing whilst driving through, she spotted a cluster of people at the nearby school – it looked like they were parents picking up their kids. It was a lovely sunny day and she almost paid it no mind – until she recognized a very distinctive stance. She guessed she wasn’t too far away from New Orleans – but what were the chances she ran into her ex?

“Eliot?” she called before she could stop herself.

He was standing with his arms crossed, his legs apart as only a soldier would, and turned to look at her over his shoulder. His blue eyes widened and his stance broke its rigidity – turning slightly anxious instead. His hair was knotted into a bun at the back of his head – flecks of gray streaking it.

“Maria?” he squeaked – his voice doing that high pitched thing when he was caught off guard and Maria had to admit that he looked good.

“Aging like fine wine, I see,” she couldn’t help but tease, walking up to him. Eliot had been near the parents, but not among them. “You on a job?”

“I – um,” he cleared his throat. “You look great!”

Blushing, Maria looked at the school and heard the bell ring. “Something up with the school? Evil principal? A janitor that needs help?” Though she still wasn’t sure who Eliot worked for – she knew he only did acts of service for good people.

“N-no—” he stuttered, and the screams of kids being released filled the playground. “It’s actually a very decent school—”

“How long has it been?” Maria mused. “Seven years?”

“Y-yeah something like that um, Maria – I—”

“Daddy!” a little girl no older than six shrieked, full body slamming into Eliot, who grabbed and picked her up like it was a reflex. She had a blonde pony tail, was missing a front tooth, and had the bluest of eyes Maria had only ever encountered on the man that was holding her. “Are you taking me to taekwondo today?” the little girl asked him before turning to Maria like she knew her already and bragged, “I am sooo good, I had to join the eight year olds because I kept winning – are you a friend of daddy?”

“What—” Maria was speechless and kept looking from the little girl to Eliot. “Who—”

“I, um,” Eliot said, clearing his throat and hoisting up the kid. “Believe me when I say – she’s not yours?”

If anyone had told Maria that morning she would be watching her ex’s kid absolutely annihilate a boy twice her size in a taekwondo class in the afternoon, she would have questioned the coffee she was drinking. But there she was, watching from the sidelines as the girl – Emma – combo kicked the boy down.

“Well… she’s definitely yours,” she admitted and couldn’t miss Eliot’s pride in his smile. “What the hell, Eliot?”

He startled. “What?”

“C’mon – I can do the math, we broke up and you knocked up your, what, rebound?”

“It’s not like that—”

“Then why—” Maria stopped and quickly shot Emma a smile after she proudly presented her win.

“That’s my girl!” Eliot yelled, clapping, and Maria spotted the wedding ring. He leaned over and whispered, “It’s not like that.”

“Then enlighten me?”

“Hey babe!” a woman called, and Maria turned to see a grown up version of Emma make their way to them with a little girl with brown hair in tow. Eliot crouched down and picked up the little girl, kissing her chubby cheek.

“Hey hon,” Eliot said and coughed, remembering Maria was there and trying to introduce the two of them. “This, um – this is—”

But Maria didn’t need an introduction. “Vera Little,” she breathed. Vera’s eyes went wide for a quick second, before her face broke into a surprising smile. She looked from Maria to Eliot and back again.

“Maria!” Vera cried happily – like she ran into a friend from long time ago before the penny dropped on why Maria knew Eliot. “Oh… Maria—”

“Hon—” Eliot looked at them both suspiciously. Maria’s head turned around to him so quickly, it almost snapped.

“You’re going out with the Damsel?”

“He has kids with her too,” Vera added, somewhat proudly.

“You know my wife?” Eliot asked Maria, perplexed.

“I’ve arrested your wife!”

This time his head snapped to Vera, who was waving at Emma and giving her a thumbs up before the little karate kid knocked over another child. Eliot looked back at Maria with panic in his eyes.

“You’ve arrested my wife?” He turned back to said wife. “You got arrested by my ex?”

“What’s ex?” the brown haired girl asked. It was looking like Eliot’s day was going from bad to worse. Vera chuckled at Eliot’s grumpy face and Maria couldn’t help but do the same.

“How about you ask your ex over for dinner?” Vera suggested and took over their daughter. “The class is almost finished. This is Alice by the way,” she said, introducing the little girl that had Vera’s hazel eyes but Eliot’s hair.

She looked at Maria curiously before saying, “Ex!”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Eliot sighed, “You want to invite my ex for dinner?”

“She’s arrested us both – it’s fair to say we’re old friends.”

Maria sighed as well, “You’re inviting a US Marshal to have dinner with criminals?”

“The kids don’t have criminal records,” Vera shrugged – the ‘yet’ unspoken.

In a way Maria was happy she had her own car because inside the rover she was following they must be having a very weird conversation as they drove up to a farm house.

She parked behind the rover which, as soon as Eliot opened the back doors, Emma jumped out from, kicking and practicing a new move she learned. She was still in her uniform, and used Eliot’s leg as her target until he caught her ankle and hoisted her upside down.

It didn’t stop Emma from continuing though.

Vera picked up Alice – who was almost four years old and seemingly much more reserved than Emma.

“What am I doing here?” Maria muttered, but got out of her car nevertheless. Emma spotted her – whilst still upside down.

“Can I show you my trophies?” she shrieked excitedly and Eliot put her down. She raced down to Maria, took her hand and began to drag her to the farm.

“Take it easy, Em!” Eliot shouted, but Maria was already inside before the others could join them. It seemed a lot quieter inside – the coziness incomparable to any home she had ever been in.

“I got them all in my bedroom!” Emma yelled and Maria tentatively followed, observing the fair amount of pictures on the wall that spanned many years.

As she walked past them, everyone became younger – until she reached where Eliot was the Eliot she had met in Arlo – or at least as close as possible to it. It was a picture of him and Vera in what looked like Coney Island – both of them displaying their rings. Even though she was pretty sure she had seen their actual wedding photo a few frames earlier. And then to Maria’s surprise, Eliot and Vera became younger even. Vera seemed to change her aesthetic several times throughout the years – until she reached a photo of them near a warehouse – both caught unaware, and walking hand in hand. They looked so young – Vera looked close in age when she had caught her in the bank that one random day before she had handed her over to the FBI. Eliot looked handsome, of course, but he still had an air of seriousness about him.

“A sniper took that one,” Eliot grunted, watching her and she gave him an alarmed look, but he just shrugged. “We don’t have a lot of pictures from that time so we took what we could get.”

Emma appeared again, “Come on! You should see what my aunt Parker and Sophie stole for me!”

“Emma,” Eliot warned, but Maria was already inside a very yellow bedroom.

A gasp.

And then, “Is that the Stanley Cup?!”

Eliot felt like he was having the weirdest evening of his life.

After dinner – where Emma reenacted a tale Sophie had told her – both girls had gone to bed, and he was sitting at the dinner table with two women he had allowed into his heart once upon a time. It should have been awkward, and the awkward part was that it wasn’t. He didn’t even feel like he was part of the party – only as the butt of the joke.

“I can totally see calling him Teddy Bear would make him adorably grumpy,” Vera said, taking a sip of her red wine. Maria had declined to drink, and Eliot could see her fighting to relax.

“Nothing compared to when his shoulder dislocated,” she said and both Eliot and Vera winced at the thought. Without realizing, Vera and Eliot had clasped their hands together and were being their usual touchy-feeling selves, and he caught Maria staring at them. So he quickly cleared his throat.

“How did Vera get on your radar then?” he asked Maria, and he spotted Vera taking an even bigger gulp of wine.

“Oh, she was the most fascinating con artist,” Maria told them. “Pulled off this ginger-import scam.”

“We managed to let the culinary world believe ginger was becoming extinct,” Vera whispered. “I was just the pretty innocent face on that one though.”

“But what a face it was,” Maria said absentmindedly whilst staring at Vera, before shaking her head awake. “Oh god, sorry—” Suddenly she was thankful she had said no to that wine. “But um – yeah her picture had come across my desk and I was just a rookie when I responded to a bank robbery and there she was, her boot on top of the robber to keep him down.”

Vera smiled and sighed, “Unfortunately she told me she never forgot a face and put me in cuffs.”

“The bureau swooped in before I could interrogate her and months later I learned about Operation Damsel,” Maria said. “I saw some of her footage – it was quite spectacular.” Then she frowned. “But somehow I thought I read somewhere that you had died?”

Both Vera and Eliot straightened up, Eliot now reaching for the wine bottle. “You’ll need some of this if you want to go into Vera’s fake deaths.”

“Why? How often can someone fake their death?”

“You’d be surprised.”

Eliot walked Maria to her car after being ensured she was fine to drive. She only had taken one sip of the wine after they told her about the cliffhanger fake death.

“Sorry,” Eliot said suddenly. “I just realized we mostly told you about us – I barely got to ask how things are for you?”

“Oh – um, the things you said were a lot more fun than how my things are going,” Maria said with a tentative smile, opening the door of he car. “And don’t worry – it’s all safe with me.”

“I had no doubt,” Eliot murmured. “Seriously though – how are things?”

Maria closed her car and leaned against it. “Things are good. Climbing my way up as I always wanted to.”

“And—?” Eliot probed, but Maria wasn’t quite ready yet.

“You have a good thing going on here,” she told him. “I’m happy you found someone it clicked with – on all levels.” Digging his hands in his pockets, Eliot kicked a pebble on the driveway and she continued. “I’m sorry I called your wife a rebound—”

“There’s no need.”

“When very obviously I was the rebound.”

Eliot’s head snapped up. He took his hands out of his pockets and reached to take hers. “You were under no circumstances a rebound. I had changed a lot – I was happy with you. I – I told Vera about you and even she knew there was a chance I had moved on. She told me about timelines and things—”

Maria smirked at that. “Like that there’s a timeline you and I stayed together?”

“Exactly!”

“Oh man,” Maria chuckled. “I guess there would be a timeline I didn’t let Vera go with the FBI. Maybe I would have been in your place today.”

“Wait what?”

Eliot blinked and Maria pet his hand. “You’re adorable.”

“I—”

“I should get going,” she insisted. “Got one more day in Louisiana before I’m heading back to Boston.” She got into the car and rolled down her window to say goodbye. “I, um – I wouldn’t mind staying in touch. Emma has got a very bright future ahead of her as a US Marshal.”

Eliot groaned. “Thanks for that.”

Emma had fully imprinted on Maria and wanted to be her when she grew up. He leaned against the car so she couldn’t speed away. “You okay, though?”

Maria smiled. “Insistent, aren’t we? I assure you, I’ve never been better – thinking about proposing soon to my long term partner.”

This finally made Eliot relax and smile. “Let me know if you guys need a caterer – I’m great at weddings.”

Sighing, Maria popped his bubble, “I doubt that Deputy Superintendent Grayson of Boston PD would appreciate a criminal catering our wedding,” she said and revved her car. “Chances are you guys have met?”

Grayson? Eliot scoured his memory and a blonde detective throwing her coffee against the wall when they infiltrated that university secret society came up.

“Wait – you’re going out with her?”

“I’m gonna marry her,” Maria said with full confidence and reversed out of the driveway, leaving Eliot in the lights from the farm – finally feeling like she was on the right track in life.

Notes:

Up next - Jim Sterling

Chapter 2: James Sterling

Summary:

James "Jim" Sterling runs into his old adversaries - in most unlikely of places.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

2041

Jim Sterling was first, and foremost, a proud grandfather. Something he became full time after retiring from Interpol, finding himself settle near his daughter Olivia, her husband and son.

His grandson was his pride and joy – star of the mathletes, second chess champion (his girlfriend was first) and graduating Salutatorian (again – his girlfriend Valedictorian). It had been quite funny watching his grandson Daniel at first rival with the smartest person of their year – and then fall in love with her.

So he couldn’t help but be extremely curious to finally meet this girlfriend at Daniel’s high school graduation – where Olivia was fussing with tissues as they sat waiting for the ceremony to begin.

“Darling, it hasn’t even started—”

“I know I’m going to cry, dad,” she said and turned to her husband. “Have you seen Allie’s parents yet? They’ve invited us to their graduation barbecue – dad, do you want to join?”

But Jim wasn’t listening – he had stopped breathing for a second – because right at that moment no one other than Sophie Devereaux had appeared in his view. And she had spotted him too, a sliver of a smirk quirking on her lips.

“Excuse me,” he grunted and got up from the awful chair, making his way directly towards her. She didn’t move, just stood there watching him struggle get to her and laughing when he tripped.

Just as he was about to reach her, she had disappeared. He looked around frantically, knowing he hadn’t imagined her. Scouring the crowd he spotted Hardison, arguing with someone from the high school about recording the ceremony with a drone. Suddenly he was sure he saw a ponytail that could only belong to Parker. Why were they here? It had been thirty years!

“Please be seated, the ceremony is about to begin!” echoed around the auditorium, but Jim ran out of the room.

There must be something wrong with this school, he thought – what else could make them infiltrate it personally?

In the hallway he bumped into a woman – a parent, it seemed, who was running late – and she apologized profusely.

“So sorry, my daughter forgot her sash—” she said, dusting off his shoulders. Her accent a mix of several places – like she had been here for quite a while but couldn’t quite shake off the European twang. “You all right?”

Out of instinct – and not trusting anyone with a notorious criminal gang nearby – he checked if his wallet was still there. “Y-yes—” he stuttered, looking the woman right into her hazel eyes.

The tannoy called again that they were starting and this startled the woman back into apologizing and hurrying inside. Jim made his way to the toilets instead, cursing that he couldn’t access the Interpol files anymore – surely there must be something wrong with this school.

Just as he wanted to enter the toilets, the door swung open against him and for a second he thought he had run into the same woman as before again – except she was much younger and wearing an army uniform. She also had eerily familiar blue eyes.

“Sorry about that – had to hide from my mom,” she said. “Hey, you okay?”

He wasn’t but music began to play and he was going to miss the procession! Deciding that if there was anything going to go down, he would have his contact at Interpol on speed dial, he begged his pardon to the soldier, thanking them for their service, and made his way back just as he spotted Daniel walk in wearing his blue graduation gown. He was flanked by a pretty girl with brown hair, wearing the yellow Valedictorian sash.

Jim rushed to sit down next to Olivia again and joined the applause. The principal came forward and began his speech, but Jim zoned him out to put together any reason why they could be there.

“Hello Sterling,” a voice he knew said next to him and he hadn’t even realized he had sat down next to Sophie.

His nose flared and he gritted through his teeth, “Why are you here?”

Someone shushed them.

“Being a supportive aunt, of course,” she whispered back, completely sincere.

“Who on earth got the unfortunate pleasure of being born into your family?” he hissed and Sophie smirked.

The principal finished his speech and added, “I present to you your valedictorian – Alice Spencer!”

And next to Sophie, several people jumped up in applause – with at the helm no one other than Eliot Spencer. Next to him was the woman he had ran into outside, also clapping loudly.

Jim’s head snapped to the stage where the pretty brunette walked up to the stage, waving embarrassed at her parents, before she gathered her wits at the podium and began her speech, “I once was told that sometimes you don’t get a second chance.

“It’s the rules of life – and you can’t change the rules.

“However my uncle Nate said that this is what our family does – we change the rules. I never had the pleasure of meeting my uncle – but I know he would be very pleased to hear that I am joining the family business – after college, of course.

“Having a strong family bond – whether by blood or choice – is a privilege and I leave you all with the strengths of my family members, who have supported me throughout my years at this esteemed school. Starting with the intelligence of my name sake – uncle Alec—”

Hardison whooped.

“—the strong sense of justice of my cousin Bree—”

Someone next to Hardison whooped.

“The legendary obtainment skills of my aunt who wishes to remain unnamed—”

But Sterling knew it was Parker yelling.

“The loyalty of my uncle Jake and the courage of my uncle Harry—”

“Gee – how big is this family?” Olivia muttered.

“The sympathy of my aunt Sophie—” From the corner of his eye, Jim saw her put her hand on her chest.

“The adaptability of my mom – and the protectiveness of my dad—”

The whole row seemed to clap, and Jim finally accepted that they really weren’t there for a job – they were actually there to support her.

“And lastly my sister – who is not here so she doesn’t know I am wearing her favorite dress under my robe—” The crowd chuckled. “—but who has a fearlessness unmatched with anyone I have ever met.

“I end my speech to tell you to go forward in life with any of these strengths – and to encourage you to be fearless in having them. Thank you.”

The auditorium burst out in applause and Jim could only join.

“Isn’t she sweet? And so smart!” Olivia said. “You can see why Daniel likes her.”

Remembering Daniel was in love with this girl, Jim’s head whipped from Alice Spencer to Eliot, who was still clapping but also giving Jim the quickest of side glances.

“It – it can’t—” he muttered to himself. He couldn’t help but stare forward in shock whilst all the students were getting their diplomas. As Salutatorian – Daniel was going second to last and Jim snapped out of it to applaud him. Lastly it was again Alice Spencer accepting her diploma, followed by a pandemonium of whooping and clapping.

“Alice—” a teacher said into the mic, “—we have one final surprise for you from a former student—” Alice frowned and behind her the soldier Jim had run into in the toilets made her way up the stage. As Alice turned around, she let out a happy scream and ran towards, Jim presumed, her sister. Next to him Eliot and the woman Jim assumed was his wife, also yelled. Eliot pushed his way past Jim, definitely not sorry when he stepped on his foot, followed by the woman and both ran to the stage to hug their daughters.

“Let’s go see Daniel,” Olivia nudged and Jim turned to Sophie – but the whole row was empty. “Are you joining for the barbecue by the way?”

The barbecue? Oh – the barbecue Daniel’s girlfriend’s parents were hosting…

“Wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

Finding himself on enemy territory, Jim was taking in the many pictures of the happy family. The Spencer farm was definitely a home – not a base – but surely there were some secrets he could look into – even at his age.

“Sterling,” Eliot had greeted him with a dangerous undertone when they had walked up the porch. “Have you met my wife, Vera?”

“Briefly,” he said and charmingly shook the woman from the hallway’s hand. “You have a lovely home.”

“Why thank you – I have heard many things about you.” Vera smiled so cheekily that it unlocked something in his head – a memory. A memory of a wanted woman in Greece. He had excused himself in search of the toilets but got stuck examining the pictures. He spotted Vera’s full name on the marriage certificate, but even searching that would have no use – she must be as wiped clean as was anyone associated with the team. The sound of the Macarena still haunted him after the got curious when it was rumored Eliot Spencer got married.

He continued, stopping at a picture of a large family gathering during what looked like Christmas. The frame was filled with quite possibly the most amount of wanted people ever.

Passing a room, he found Alice Spencer sitting inside at a chessboard, quietly pondering about a move.

“Did Daniel give up?” he couldn’t help but ask and she looked up. She seemed to have inherited quite some features from her dad – a strong jaw and full lips. But she had her mother’s eyes.

“He went to get some ice for his hand,” she said. “He made the foolish mistake of accepting my sister’s arm wrestle challenge.”

“I’ll tell him never to accept a Spencer challenge. May I?” He gestured to the board and her eyebrows lifted in surprise, but she reset the board nevertheless. “I’m Daniel’s grandfather,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “He admires you a lot.”

He offered her to go first with the white pieces and they started their game.

“You should play against Daniel’s mum,” he said after a while.

“Oh I have,” she said and when she smiled a bit of her mother pushed to the forefront. “We’re currently tied so I don’t want to lose that.”

They continued their game.

“So, you’re joining the family business?”

Alice nodded as she took his rook. “I like to help.”

“You know there are… cleaner ways… of helping?” he probed and she suddenly looked at him skeptically. She was reading him – observing his demeanor and he added, “I see your aunt Sophie has been teaching you.”

“My mom actually.”

“Ah, yes – I’ve been wondering who your mum is.”

“Food’s gettin’ ready,” Eliot’s husky voice called from the doorway. “You got first pick, princess.”

Alice got up, looking down at the board to memorize it. “I’ve got photographic memory so don’t think about moving my bishop.” She strutted out, kissing her dad on the cheek on her way and leaving Jim alone with the man who once punched out his tooth.

“Never got revenge on you drugging me,” Eliot grunted. “But now that I’ve got two daughters – I get it.”

Jim looked at the board – a daughter that was kicking his butt at chess for sure. His hand lingered over the bishop that was thwarting his play.

“She wasn’t kidding – she’ll know,” Eliot warned, nudging his head that he needed to join them, but Jim used the moment alone to prod.

“Why do I know your wife?”

The way Eliot laughed made him look thirty years younger. “Oh man, is that what’s been getting your goat?”

He stepped forward and instinctively Jim stepped back, and said. “She must have come across my desk at a certain point in time. I don’t forget criminals.”

“Still the eternal fist of justice,” Eliot murmured, shaking his head, and then humored him. “How would my wife have come across your desk? Well – it could be the time she got poisoned and shot whilst undercover for the Bureau. Or when she confronted a prolific stalker. Or maybe when she was in Greece – being framed for smuggling – oh—” He noticed Jim’s eyebrow quirk. “That was it, wasn’t it? Yeah Interpol was doing shoddy work – we had to step in.” Suddenly they were almost nose to nose. “But maybe it was also the time internationally convicted monster Damien Moreau kidnapped a pregnant woman and did experiments on her.”

It unlocked another memory – the file he had received was thin. Suspiciously thin. But it had all relevant information for a lifelong conviction – including indeed the abduction of a pregnant woman.

“It was—”

“Yeah, right from this house—” There was guilt in Eliot’s eyes. “Pregnant with my beautiful princess that your grandson is so obsessed with.”

Jim swallowed, but Eliot wasn’t done.

“So I would tread carefully if I were you, because if you wonder why Moreau was eating through a straw for a while, well…” He shrugged. “Let’s say it was a remembrance gift.”

Knowing enough, Jim nodded – you never accepted a Spencer challenge.

“Great! Let’s eat!”

Eliot turned but Jim called after him, “Did you know? That he was my grandson?”

Another youthful laugh.

“Her uncle is Alec Hardison – I knew everything before she even had finished saying his name.”

“Babe!” someone yelled.

“Coming,” Eliot yelled back before giving Jim another cheeky smile. “I had been looking forward to seeing you again, you know.”

“You had?”

“Yeah.” And he pulled Jim out of the room.

“Did you give Daniel the protective father speech?”

“Thought about it, but then I let someone much scarier do that.”

They reached the party where most of the crowd was surrounding the barbecue.

“Who?”

With a final smirk, Eliot just said, “Her sister.”

And suddenly Jim Sterling was face to face with Emma Spencer, who was smiling at him.

“How about a quick arm wrestle?”

Scattered across the the front field of the farm, people were chatting and laughing. Anytime Sterling was presented with food, he eyed it with caution, and everyone told him, “Not poisoned.”

Sophie sneaked next to him.

“Sophie,” he acknowledged. “How are things?”

“Keeping well,” she said.

“Matriarch of the family.”

She smiled. “Yes.” Looking around the people like it was her queendom. “The next generation shaping up nicely,” she said, nodding at Daniel and Alice who were deep in conversation. Jim processed that in silence, and Sophie quietly said, “Thank you.”

He jerked up.

“For what?”

“The flowers,” she explained. “They find me every year without fail. Even though I am deeply distrusting of any flowers since I almost got killed by a bouquet. They’re a lovely sight on a sad day.”

He lowered his head, smiling sadly.

“He’s deeply missed,” he admitted. “He would have loved to see his legacy like this.”

Agreeing, Sophie said, “I always feel sad he never got to meet the younglings – and Bree. But in a way he had – by knowing Eliot, Vera – Hardison.”

“You’re letting one of your younglings into the family business though,” he commented, eyeing Alice. “Why would you mark her a criminal at such a young age?”

But all Sophie did was smile, clinking his glass with hers. “How long have you been retired?”

“I—”

“We’ve been clean a long time, Jim. But there is always need for justice where the law leaves us. There won’t be law breaking for Leverage teams Alice will build. There’s only justice.”

Jim shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to,” she assured. “How about you trust me that I would never let her go down the path of her ancestors?”

“I wouldn’t trust you with my left shoe.”

But the look they shared was one of silent understanding.

After all the guests had gone their ways – Sterling without his left shoe somehow – Eliot was curled up with his wife on their porch couch under a sea of blankets.

Inside he could hear his daughters go from screaming at each other to laughing – so all was well between them.

“Can’t believe we’re going to be empty nesters at the end of the summer,” Vera said sleepily. “It’s going to be so quiet.”

Inside it sounded like they were going through all their clothes and yelled at each other about what belonged to who.

“Might be blissful for a while,” Eliot said with a wince, but his wife’s silence said otherwise. For once he got to press between her brows. “What’s causing the frown?”

Her face split into a smile before turning serious. “We only ever really been in this house as a family – apart from barely a year.”

“You want to downsize?” Eliot asked, panic in his voice – he finally got his crops in order and he sighed in relief when she shook her head.

“No – but it’s a lot of empty space.”

For a moment they sat on that in silence. The farm was their home – it’s where their kids had grown up, where many happy memories thwarted one dark night.

Not everyone had that privilege.

And then Eliot remembered his incredibly smart daughter’s speech.

“Having a strong family bond – whether by blood or choice – is a privilege.”

By choice.

His chosen family that made him the man he was today.

So he made a suggestion he wondered his wife had been sitting on.

“We could foster kids.”

Inside Eliot found his daughters deep in a chess game and he shook his head, wrapping his oldest in a one armed hug around her neck – her concentration unwavering – and pressed a kiss on the top of her head.

“Family meeting in five,” he announced.

“Give me two minutes,” Alice said.

“There’s no way you’re getting that top,” Emma snarled.

“Fine, I’ll just need one minute then—” And Alice checked her king, opening the shouting flood gates once again.

“Girls, please—” Eliot boomed over the quibbling. The two sisters always solved any fight with a game of their choosing – Alice usually picked chess and Emma usually picked something physical. The fact that they had gone with chess meant Emma didn’t really care about whatever she was losing – but she would never let her little sister know that.

When Emma told her parents she was enlisting after high school, it had opened a lot of Eliot’s wounds. But he knew better than to tell his daughter what to do – and he didn’t want to risk her pushing him away.

“Two weeks of leave and I am losing my entire wardrobe,” Emma said with a sigh, and Eliot opened his arms to give her a hug – but she walked past him and hugged Vera instead – who had just been bringing in the blankets from outside.

“I get it,” Eliot gritted. “She’s my favorite too – family meeting at the dining table!” His youngest got up, twirling her queen between her fingers and giving him a kiss on the cheek on her way to the kitchen. Eliot smiled, murmuring, “I can always rely on you, princess.”

At the table they all sat at their designated seat – a seating plan that had been in place for nineteen years.

“So—” Eliot started, looking at all of his girls. “Your mom has something to ask.” Vera smiled from the head of the table.

“First of all – happy graduation to Alice – that was a very lovely speech, honey,” she said and Alice blushed. “And your dad and I are so proud – and of course even prouder that you’re going to Columbia!”

“Tulane would have been fine too,” Eliot grunted, hating that his youngest was going all the way to New York.

“And of course we are extremely proud and impressed with whatever confidential mission Emma is up to,” Vera continued, giving her oldest a smile, who gave her a tight-lipped look in return. “However it does leave your parents with a very big house and quite a few empty rooms—”

The sisters turned quiet, wondering what their mother was going to say next, but it was Eliot who filled in, “How would you feel about if your mother and I became a foster family?”

Silence.

“I mean, your uncle Hardison and cousin Bree had the best foster parent imaginable,” Vera said. “But we know of those that are less fortunate and personally your father and I reckon—”

“Mom, stop,” Emma cut off. “You guys fostering would be the most obvious thing to do – I don’t even understand why you waited until we were grown.”

“I would have loved a younger sibling,” Alice added.

“Careful what you wish for,” Emma sighed. “It’s not as cool as I thought it was going to be.”

“Hey!”

“Girls,” both Vera and Eliot sighed. Eliot gave his wife a look to check if she really wanted to bring in more kids into their lives, but with their hands clasped under the table – both knew very well it was their destiny to.

Notes:

Up next - Foster kid Ash wonders why they are being fostered by Mr and Mrs Smith

Chapter 3: Ash the Foster Kid

Summary:

After being in the foster system for years, Ash ends up with Mr and Mrs Spencer.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

2041

The first impression Ash got from their new foster parents was that the couple was… odd.

When their social worker drove up to the farm in middle of nowhere Louisiana, they expected a bunch of rednecks with crosses on the wall – not a middle aged couple that genuinely seemed excited to see them.

“Mrs Spencer is from Europe, she edits books, and Mr Spencer is – well his file was vague, but he owns a chain of food trucks,” Sheila the social worker said, driving up to the farm. “Their two daughters have moved out. One in the army and the other at Columbia!”

Ash grunted. “So what did they do to piss off the agency so much they got me?”

Sheila purposefully ignored them, but Ash knew they were the thorn of foster existence – 14 – almost 15 – years old, short stint in juvie, ace, no good parents and non gender conforming. Hopping from foster family to foster family was a skill Ash excelled at. The question was who would crack first – Ash or the wannabe parents.

As they stopped at the end of the driveway, Ash appreciated how large the farm was – that at least meant they could find some privacy, and they spotted the couple on the porch.

Mrs Spencer was tall, early fifties they guessed, her hair ashy gray blonde but it was the big smile on her face that made Ash roll their eyes. Another hopeful life changer.

Mr Spencer was older with long hair, and had a brute force kind of vibe – maybe he was the one that was finally the one to convince Ash about Jesus and that sexuality was a choice.

Except when they were finally in front of each other, Mrs Spencer held out her hand politely and introduced herself, “Vera Spencer, she – her.”

Ash could only gape, and continued to gape when Mr Spencer all but crushed their hand in a handshake.

“Eliot Spencer, he – him, occasionally they – them – if the mood strikes,” he said.

“It’s the hair,” Vera said with a solemn nod.

The couple looked at Ash expectantly, but they could only continue to gape. What in the vintage black mirror – “Ash?” Sheila nudged, and they shook their head.

“Ash Perry,” they introduced themselves, but the couple raised their eyebrows, so they added, “They… them?”

“Wonderful!” Vera said, clapping her hands. “Come in, come in – put your shoes at the door.”

Great, Ash thought, that will make it harder for me to run away.

The formalities were the usual, and Ash just zoned out as Sheila spoke – focused on the house instead. It was well lived in – but neatly kept. Instead of the expected crosses on the wall, there were a lot of pictures. One thing they could deduce was that this couple really – really – liked each other. They spotted a couple of pictures of their daughters but there were a whole bunch of random family photos too – quite multi cultured even.

Who the fuck were these people? A cult?

Sheila left with her usual ‘Stay out of trouble’ speech and Ash remained in the house of two virtual strangers.

“This is your room,” Vera said, giving them the tour. “It’s your space to do whatever you want with it.” The room was neutral – a bed, a desk and a wardrobe. “We have some paints in the shed if you want to pick a color.”

Ash shook their head. “No need, will save you repainting it for the next one.”

They expected Vera to be shocked – to counter what they said, but she just smiled. “Well, the offer stands. Also let us know if you have any hobbies or special interests, we’re happy to accommodate.”

Yeah… Definitely a cult, Ash decided.

The first few weeks passed quietly and Ash got used to the rhythm of the Spencers. Where they had first thought the couple odd, Ash now decided they were just plain boring.

Eliot dropped them off each morning at High School – and he was extremely popular with all students.

“Hi Mr Spencer!” some would yell, and he would jovially wave back. Ash had thrown him a look, but he just shrugged.

“I teach occasionally.”

With a roll of their eyes, they jumped out of the car and disappeared into the student crowd. Eliot would leave for the day and arrive back home in the evenings. Ash assumed he was working the food trucks.

Vera spent her day in her home office – which was also a library it seemed – and happily picked them up. The first few days she would try and get them to talk about their day, but Ash gave her their signature eye roll.

So Vera started to just talk about the book she was editing instead. She also seemed obsessed with trying to figure out what they liked.

Reading, painting, sports, video games – all were thrown around and she watched their reaction to see if she hit a sweet spot.

But she never did.

So she resumed talking about her book.

The only time they had driven home in silence was when Ash got into the car with a split lip.

Vera’s eyes had widened and she had seemed ready to go into the school, but Ash waved her off. And while Vera was quiet, her thoughts seemed very loud. Back at the farm she had cleaned the cut, but surprisingly hadn’t pried to learn the how, who or what.

Eliot hadn’t either – both he and Vera just shared looks over the dinner.

The next day the bully that had done it – Michael – hadn’t come to school. Nor the day after. Or ever after that.

A month later, Ash sneaked into the kitchen near midnight. The Spencers kept a very well stocked kitchen – Eliot was a bit of a foodie – and quietly they found what they were looking for.

The flame from the lighter illuminated the kitchen and – to their horror – Eliot’s face.

“Didn’t think arson would be your kind of thing, but deep waters I guess,” he grunted, turning on the kitchen light.

“I wasn’t!” Ash spluttered. “I – I just—” They stood there with a cupcake in one hand and the lighter in the other. A candle was stuck crooked into the cupcake. “Why are you awake?”

Eliot shrugged.

“I only sleep for ninety minutes each night, usually cuddle my wife for the remaining time, but I heard distinct noises of a teenager in the kitchen.” He eyed the cupcake and the candle. “Birthday, huh?”

Ash swallowed loudly, feeling caught red handed. “It’s not a big deal—”

“Big enough to sneak to the kitchen and light a birthday candle,” Eliot said, cocking his brow. He held out his hand for the lighter, and to Ash’s surprise he went to light their candle after they handed it over, saying, “You shouldn’t light your own.”

They watched the microwave’s clock change to midnight, and Ash stared at Eliot before he grunted, “Make a wish.”

Not even making one, they blew the candle out and continued to stare at the man, who gave them a small smirk. “Happy birthday, Ash.”

“Th-thank you.”

“Now go to bed,” he said, jerking his head.

Ash couldn’t run for their room fast enough, but at the last second they turned. “Please don’t throw me a birthday party.”

Eliot sucked his teeth. “Maybe next year,” he said solemnly. “Me and Vera didn’t have a wedding until our third anniversary.”

Ash just stared, putting the couple in their ‘odd’ category again.

Their birthday was actually on a Saturday and with a beating heart, they went downstairs to find the couple in the kitchen. Eliot just smirked at them and Vera was positively buzzing, but definitely was trying to restrain herself.

“You’re going to have to let her,” Eliot said, jerking his head to his wife.

Vera stared at Ash with great anticipation, before asking, “Please?”

Clenching their jaw, Ash prepared for the worst as they nodded. But all Vera did was exclaim “Happy Birthday!!” and offered them their usual plate of breakfast.

They sat at the bar and eyed the pair suspiciously. “That’s it?” they asked. “No party? No gifts?”

Vera shook her head. “Your boundary – and totally understandable. I’m not one for gifts either.”

“You guys are weird,” Ash blurted and slapped their hand over their mouth, but Vera and Eliot just laughed. Both shared a look with each other that almost told Ash that they didn’t even know how weird they really were.

Vera leaned on the counter and said. “We have a couple of errands to run in New Orleans today, we wanted to ask if you would like to join us?”

Ash perked up slightly – they had not been out of this town since they joined the Spencers. It would be nice to see some hustling and bustling.

“I – yes,” they said, containing their eagerness. Vera gave Eliot a quick glance and he nodded encouragingly.

“And we have a proposition- a birthday compromise,” she continued and Ash felt their heart beat fast again. “Just a celebration lunch with some of our friends? We won’t tell them it’s your birthday.”

“And we’d like to offer to open up a bank account for you,” Eliot grunted. Ash knew they must have wide eyes at that.

“What—” they started but Vera explained.

“You deserve a bit of financial independence,” she said. “We’ll transfer the foster care money into the account for you to do whatever with. We’ll still cover everything else, of course – but that money is yours.”

A bit of financial independence, Ash thought – that almost felt like… trust. They silently accepted, and an hour later Eliot dropped them off at the bank together with Vera.

“I’m just going to check on—” he made a vague gesture and gave his wife a kiss through the open car window. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Nudging them, Vera encouraged Ash into the bank and quietly they went through some paperwork together. It was relatively deserted in the bank and whilst Vera filled out forms, Ash took a look around and listened. There was a soft electrical hum which stopped suddenly – and if Ash didn’t know better, they thought Vera also noticed, as her hand stopped scribbling.

Then Ash spotted two men appearing in front of the doors, pulling balaclavas over their heads. “Um – Vera—” they said, but Vera had already seen them and – what even – she just sighed.

“Oh, well, that is just wildly inconvenient,” she muttered, taking out her phone and Ash saw her text Eliot ‘Coney Island’, before the two men entered with guns.

“Everybody down! This is a robbery!”

They had been sitting in the waiting area with the forms, and as they moved to the floor, Vera subtly placed herself in front of Ash.

“Phones! Jewelry! On the floor!”

Vera slid her phone towards the men, whispering to Ash to keep theirs. “Do as I say, not as I do,” she said softly. “And stay calm.” Before Vera broke down in hysterics herself.

“Shut up!” one the robbers said whilst the other made their way to the vault with the bank manager. The gun was pointed at Vera, who got up slightly – shielding Ash with her body.

“Pl-please – m-my kids—they’re in the c-car – I only just popped in—” Vera sobbed, raising her hands and Ash noticed the sparkle of her diamond ring – as did the robber.

“Your ring,” the robber demanded and Vera gasped, getting up fully. Ash could only stare – they knew Vera as a tall confident woman, but the way she presented herself to the robber was meek and small.

“No – n-no please, it was my grandmother’s!” she cried, but Ash knew deep down she had drawn the robber’s attention with it on purpose.

The only other person in the bank with them was the teller, who was frantically putting cash in a bag – and then there were the bank manager and the other robber in the back. But Ash reckoned they must have a getaway driver too.

Vera was still pleading but eventually took off her ring, stepping forward and offering it with a shaky hand. The robber lowered their gun and as Vera was about to give it, she dropped it to her other hand and punched the robber square in the jaw.

Ash felt their eyes go wide as they watched their foster mom floor him, stepping onto the arm which he was holding the gun with so he released it before kicking it towards the entrance – where Eliot just appeared. His face was murderous, first clocking Vera and then Ash – seemingly checking if both were all right.

Vera kicked the robber in the face and he laid there unconscious and she jerked her head towards the back. “Vault, one robber and the bank manager. Same gun.”

Ash watched Eliot pick up the gun in front of him and they expected him to use it, but instead he expertly disarmed it – tossing the pieces across the room. Quietly he disappeared to the back where the vault was.

“Ash, sweetie?” Vera called, tossing them one of the unconscious robber’s shoes. “Could you undo his laces?”

She was rearranging his limbs, putting his hands together behind his back. Ash did what they were told.

“Do I call the police now?” the scared teller asked.

“They’re already on the way,” Vera assured, accepting the laces and tying the robber’s hands together. “This is so ironic and so inconvenient,” she complained. “Amateurs at that.”

“You’re talking like this is not your first robbery,” Ash said and jumped when Eliot appeared by throwing the other robber into the room. The bank manager ran out to hug the teller.

“Other lace please,” Vera asked, tossing them another shoe.

Police sirens sounded in the distance and Eliot helped Vera tie up the other one.

“Cameras?” he asked her.

“They cut them before coming in, it’s what triggered the police alarm,” she said factually.

“Was that the hum that stopped? The cutting of the cameras?” Ash asked keenly and the couple looked at them impressed. Eliot moved and offered them a hand to get up.

“Time to go,” he grunted.

“What about the getaway car?” Ash asked and got another impressed look.

“Why do you think I was late?” Eliot said, and took his wife’s hand too, dragging them towards the exit.

“N’aww,” Vera cooed. “It’s like the day we met!”

“Yeah, without getting shot at least.”

“Who are you people?!” Ash cried.

“We’re the good guys!” they replied in unison.

It turned out Eliot had been just around the corner at an old jazz bar, prepping the celebration lunch, and Ash excused themselves to the bathroom.

“Let me know if you feel faint! It’s the adrenaline!” Vera called after them, concerned but Ash scurried away.

What the fuck just happened?

Did they really experience a bank robbery and their middle aged foster parents dispersed it without even a hesitation?

They knew the police was coming but took care of it anyway?

Vera was right – the adrenaline made them a bit faint, and upon re-entering the theater – they watched Eliot and Vera giggle like a couple of teenagers. Eliot had his arms around her waist, pulling her close and smiling broadly.

“I’ve missed the Damsel,” he said. “It was nice seeing her for a bit—”

“Right hook still works,” Vera said. “Could Bree or Hardison finish the bank account setup?”

“Surely,” Eliot said, leaning forward and openly kissing her. It was quite disgusting to watch, and before it could escalate Ash cleared their throat. The pair turned to look at them.

“So,” they said. “Is this like a Mr and Mrs Smith situation or what? Did the agency finally give up on me that they gave me literal spies? Am I a lost cause?”

Eliot and Vera pulled away from each other, and Vera beckoned them closer to sit at the bar. Eliot returned to chopping vegetables.

“You’re not a lost cause,” Vera said gently. “It’s saddening that you think that.” She reached out to stroke their hair but hesitated. It wasn’t until Ash nodded that she touched them.

“We asked for you,” Eliot then revealed, eating a piece of cucumber.

Ash didn’t understand. “But – why?”

“Because, in a way, we feel like we know you,” Vera murmured. “We see ourselves – our kids – our friends – in you.”

Eliot nodded. “One of our friends you’ll meet in a bit ran an algorithm to match us with potential foster kids. You came up on top, so we wanted you to give us a chance.”

“I am literally the bottom of the barrel,” Ash said. “And you guys are what – feds? Cops?”

“Try wanted,” Vera mused.

“Internationally feared?” Eliot suggested.

“Good one,” Vera agreed, highfiving her husband. “We’re also the bottom of the barrel,” she continued.

“Your daughter is in an Ivy League school,” Ash deadpanned.

“I meant us,” Vera corrected, gesturing to herself and Eliot. “Not our kids. We will always offer the best for our kids – and that’s what we’re offering you. We wanted to do it slowly but as proven today – trouble finds us quite naturally.”

“So you have a hero complex?” Ash queried, eyebrow raised. They thought Vera and Eliot would deny that, but both kind of pondered it.

“We’ll let you decide,” Eliot finally said. “And better hide your wallet because if they find out it’s your birthday, well – it’s your own doing.”

Ash huffed. “Who are they?”

Ash had the distinct feeling everybody had been instructed by the Spencers not to hug them.

Handshakes were offered, and though some seemed quite itchy to throw themselves at them – they all refrained.

Parker and Hardison were a couple – both in eerily good shape despite being around Vera and Eliot’s age. Sophie had a soft grandmother energy – her grandson Tyler Pickford was around Ash’s age and was definitely invited as company for them. And then Ash met them.

“Bree,” a mixed colored person introduced themselves as with a low voice. “They – them.”

Ash gaped – Bree was incredible. Confident – almost cocky – and had the cheekiest of smirks on their face.

“A-Ash – they – them.”

“Excellent,” Bree said, nodding appreciatively. “What are you into, Ash?”

“I—”

“Food’s ready!” Eliot announced and everybody took a plate and a seat. Vera encouraged Ash to sit among their friends. Which was how they became glued to Bree’s hip.

“I’m into engineering,” Bree explained. “My brother over there—” they nodded at Hardison. “Is more into algos—but I diddle.”

Ash hung at their lips and softly said. “I like puzzles – like mechanical brain teasers. I’m quite observant – like how I know Vera is already looking up puzzles to buy for me.”

From the head of the table Eliot barked out a laugh and rubbed his wife’s arm teasingly. “See how it easy it is to want to buy gifts as a love language?”

“Shut up!” Vera said, batting his hand away, but was blushing nevertheless as she put her phone down.

“Puzzles are cool,” Bree agreed. “Useful skill to have.” They looked at Sophie knowingly.

“Hey! None of that!” Eliot suddenly shouted. “You got Alice already, let Ash figure it out themselves!” He got up with his plate and headed to the kitchen. “I mean it!” he added.

“Dad Eliot still scares me,” someone said next to Ash, and they noticed the woman introduced as Parker had silently moved closer.

“What did he mean?” Ash asked.

“He wants to make sure we don’t corrupt you into doing crime,” she said casually. “But you are already halfway there aren’t you? Ash Perry, larceny—” She had their wallet and ID in her hand. “Yeah I do that,” Parker said with a shrug when Ash gaped. “So why are we not celebrating this young one’s birthday?”

“We are,” Eliot said, returning with a large birthday cake. “Told you it was your own doing, kiddo.”

“Here – a present,” Parker said, giving them a lock picking set.

“Parker!” Eliot snipped, putting down the cake in front of Ash before gently squeezing their shoulder.

“What?” Parker shrugged. “It’s a puzzle tool.”

“You’re not recruiting Ash—”

“I’m just encouraging an interest! Like how I encouraged Emma to be a hitter, Alice to be a mastermind and young Tyler over there is a perfect grifter.” She nodded to Sophie’s grandson. “I’ve seen him in MacBeth! He was terrible!”

“Parker!” said several people.

Tyler leaned in to Ash and whispered, “I was terrible, but wanted to make my gran proud.”

“Parker, you need to stop recruiting my – our – kids.”

“Easy for you to say, Mr ‘Oh I am just teaching kids self defense’.”

“I am teaching kids – and adults – self defense.”

“It’s how we got our last five hitters!”

Eliot stayed quiet for a second, before shrugging and saying, “I’m good at what I do.”

“He is,” Tyler whispered to Ash. “He’s a great teacher.”

Ash just stared at the group of people, quickly pocketing their new lock pick set, and decided once and for all that they were most definitely a cult.

Created with Sketch.

It had most been the wildest birthday Ash ever had experienced. Eliot drove them and his wife home quietly, and from the backseat they watched their foster parents be disturbingly in love.

As always they didn’t pry – despite the fact that Parker told everyone they had been caught breaking in.

Weirdly Ash relaxed when the farm came into view and they realized this must be what it was like coming home somewhere safe.

“You good, kiddo?” Eliot asked as he parked. They nodded but stayed quiet, running up to their room as soon as they could.

Heart beating in their chest, they looked for their stashed bag – containing the items they never unpacked – and ran out. They sneaked into the living room, which was empty, and opened the door to the porch where they knew Eliot and Vera always sat snuggled up in the evenings.

“Hey sweetie,” Vera greeted and Eliot gave them a smile. They scooted to make space on the couch but Ash just stood in front of them, a small box in their hands.

Clearing their throat, they started, “I – I assume you have read my file that I went to juvie.” Their expressions did not change, which they took as confirmation. “I did break in – but it was into my own home. I was kicked out without any of my things – I was just getting my belongings but my dad called the police and actually pressed charges.”

They swallowed, but both Vera and Eliot gave them looks that told them they already knew.

“The point being – I’m not a criminal. And I don’t know who you are – or if you’re recruiting me—”

“We’re not,” Eliot said straight away. “I should have seen tonight coming – they get very carried away very fast.”

“But you’ve been hounding me about my interests,” they accused Vera and she apologized sincerely.

“I just want you to be you,” she assured. “Have stuff that you like.”

“But – those people, you guys – you’re what – criminals? Why do you think I’m like you?”

Eliot got up from the couch, giving them a serious look now. “We don’t think you’re a criminal, or that you’re like us—”

Vera sat up. “We more think we’re like you. When we were your age. And we see in you what we could have been, if we had someone like us.”

“Those people?” Eliot said. “Foster kids, from good and bad families. Myself? Adopted – and ran away to the army at eighteen.” Eliot turned to his wife. “Hon?”

“Ran away from home when I was nineteen, not being myself until Eliot gave me the space to discover who I was.”

“We just want you to be a teenager in a safe home,” Eliot said. “I’m sorry if our family gave you the wrong impression.”

Ash stayed quiet for a minute, staring at the couple in front of them. They seemed genuine – they seemed like parents. And—“You consider them family?”

The pair smiled.

“We’d like to consider you family, if you’d be up for it,” Vera said and patted the empty space next to her.

Eliot moved, said he was getting more blankets and drinks, and Ash gingerly sat down on the couch.

“What’s that?” Vera asked, nodding at the box they were holding.

Handing it to her, Ash said. “It’s my favorite puzzle.” Vera gasped excitedly and took out the wooden puzzle. “You need to free the ring,” they explained.

Vera immediately went to work with enthusiasm, claiming her youngest daughter was the smart one.

“Today wasn’t your first bank robbery, was it?” Ash dared to ask.

“Nope, I’ve been in hundreds all over the country.” She unlocked a compartment with a whoop. “Always the damsel, secretly the hero.”

“And Eliot—”

“Kicks ass,” Vera said with a nod. “But he’s retired. As am I – as are we all. Though Parker stole some sapphires back for mine and Eliot’s anniversary.”

She proudly presented the ring from the puzzle, but Ash looked at her with a serious look.

“What did you do to Michael?”

The bully who had punched them a split lip had never come back to school.

“His dad relocated,” Eliot grunted upon his return, offering a tray that had Ash’s favorite drink. “To Alaska.”

“It was all very sudden,” Vera said airily. “Had to go immediately.”

“These things do happen fast,” Eliot agreed, sitting down on Ash’s other side so they were in the middle.

“So you didn’t kill him?” Ash double checked.

“My instinct was to bonk him on the head, wipe his ID and drop him off in Venezuela – but your mother—um, Vera – talked me out of it,” Eliot said.

“He’s still a minor,” Vera said with a pout. “But there are bears in Alaska?”

“Silver linings.”

The three of them watched the stars, and in weeks to come, nobody pressured or recruited Ash into some criminal cult. Though they enjoyed practicing how to pick locks very much. Some would say they had a distinctive talent for it.

Notes:

Up next - Leverage: The Next Generation

Chapter 4: Leverage: The Next Generation

Summary:

Alice Spencer, daughter of Eliot Spencer, masterminds her first job.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

December 2041

Alice Spencer very much enjoyed her welcoming party at the airport. Her dad, mom, foster sibling Ash and boyfriend Daniel all awaited her arrival.

She had come home briefly for Thanksgiving, which her parents had kept a small affair to not overwhelm Ash after their initial intro to the Leverage family, and was ready to be pampered all the way into the new year for her birthday. That was until Ash told her one of their teachers had confiscated their gift for her mom.

“What do you mean?” Alice asked, confused and led their new favorite sibling into her green bedroom.

“Well, I took your Christmas gift advice and made something for her.” At Thanksgiving Ash had confided that with their little bit of financial independence they wanted to get Christmas gifts for their foster parents. Eliot had been easy – personalized guitar picks. But Vera – Vera was apparently impossible to get gifts for.

“She has this weird aversion to gifts – unless it’s like sentimental,” Alice had said at Thanksgiving. “I swear she preferred the terrible hand painted Mother’s Day cards over the book bag me and Em had gotten her.”

She had shaken her head at the perfection that was her mother. “Write her a poem or bedazzle a photo frame – she’d rather have that than you spending money.”

Ash had no writing affinity, or the urge to bedazzle a frame – so they worked on a mechanical puzzle during their spare time at school in the woodworking workshop.

On the day they were picking up Alice at the airport, they had been showing it off to their new friends – but Mrs Woodruff had taken it and locked it into her desk. They were to get it back after the break – but that was too late.

Alice gave them a long stare, before taking out her phone and texting someone. “Cool, let’s go steal it back,” she said, simply.

“What?” Ash asked, looking at her with adorable incomprehension.

“If my memory serves me right – and it always does – the staff party will be tomorrow night, we break in and steal it back. Daniel will drive, Tyler will come along for practice.” She walked to her desk, locking the drawer. “And you practice unlocking this.”

Ash stood up, bewildered, but took out their lock picks – jiggling the lock for a second until the drawer sprung back open. Alice stopped the timer she had started, looking at it impressed. “Faster than Emma, but then again she’s more for punching – you’ve got talent.”

Spluttering, Ash closed the drawer. “I could get into real trouble if we’re caught breaking in! I have a record—”

Alice seemed nonplussed, but deep down she was eager for some kind of gig – college was boring. “Fine, it’s that or telling my mom why you don’t have a gift – up to you.” The perks of having sibling experience was that Alice knew exactly what buttons to push. Ash was chewing on their tongue, debating it.

“How do we explain to your parents why we’re out of the house tomorrow night?” they finally said.

“Oh leave that with me,” Alice said with a smirk. “Let’s go steal a date night.”

“Did you guys do anything for your anniversary?” Alice asked over dinner and her dad raised his eyebrows. “I forgot to ask over Thanksgiving – I was way too busy with becoming the best older sister Ash had ever seen.” She gave Ash a wink.

“We, uh, we just quietly celebrated,” her mom said, eyeing Ash. “It had only been a few weeks since we became foster parents.”

Alice looked around in mock alarm. “You didn’t celebrate your twentieth anniversary?”

“Seventeenth,” Eliot corrected.

“You got married twenty years ago – at the top of the Coney Island Ferris Wheel,” Alice said with a roll of her eyes – her mom loved telling the story of their elopement.

“And we got legally married seventeen years ago,” her dad grunted – he loved telling the story of the wedding day he had planned.

“Does that make Emma illegitimate?” Alice quirked.

“Technically you too, as you were also there in a way,” her mom said with a grin and Alice rolled her eyes. She stopped mid roll however when she spotted her dad giving her a look. Alice would be the first to admit she was a daddy’s girl – always had been the second he called her princess. Her relationship with her mom was trickier – and they had never really worked out why.

“Anyway – I am here now, how about you guys go for a date tomorrow night and I look after my new favorite sibling?” she said it casually but it was definitely rehearsed. Her dad gave her a single raised suspicious eyebrow, but Alice had the perfect segue. “I’m sure mom would appreciate a night at Calducci’s…”

Predictably her mom perked up at the mention of her favorite restaurant, and if her dad had one weakness… it was her perfect mother. Which meant the following evening she waved off her parents as they left to make up for missing their anniversary.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Ash said next to her, but Alice just shrugged, telling Daniel via text to wait just outside of the security perimeter. Together they ran down the driveway, adrenaline pumping through Alice’s veins and she knew this is what she was meant to be doing. All her life she had seen her dad – her aunts and uncles – do jobs and do good.

Tyler was already in the car and Daniel told Ash that he’d rather not ask any questions in case they were compromised. “My granddad taught me it’s better not to know than to question it.”

They arrived at the school, and Alice peered through the car’s window – spotting the lights of the staff room flickering different colors. “Gross, teachers partying,” she shuddered, turning to Ash. “Mrs Woodruff is still in E17?”

“Y-Yeah, but Alice – surely there’s security and alarms?”

She pulled up one of the many gadgets her uncle and cousin had given her, scouring the building. “Minimum security as there’s only fifty or so people. The building will be off the alarms in case some teachers want to get it on.” She grimaced.

“Can I see?” Tyler asked and took the gadget. “I think that door is our best bet – janitor’s entrance, just has a normal lock.” They all looked at him, surprised. “I’m way more into the tech side than the acting side,” he explained, before adding, “Don’t tell my grandmother.”

“Janitor entrance it is,” Alice said with a nod, clapping Ash on their shoulder. “You’re up.”

Unlocking an actual door under pressure versus random places around the farm was a lot trickier than Ash wanted to admit. Especially with two others breathing down their neck.

Just as the lock clicked and they all gasped in excitement, a hand grabbed Ash’s shoulder and pulled them onto the ground.

“Thought you could get rid of me, huh?” Michael, the bully that had punched them a split lip a few months ago, sneered. “You forget that I have family in this town and I came back for the holidays.”

“Get off them,” Alice bit and both she and Tyler took the fighting stance that Alice’s dad had once taught them. However they didn’t get a chance to act because out of the shadows a tall figure grabbed Michael’s wrist.

“Hey,” no one other than Alice’s sister Emma said. “What smells like antiperspirant and screams like a pig?” And she twisted his wrist, making him squeal. “That’s the right answer.” The screaming however caused some lights across the schoolyard to turn on and quickly Emma released Michael, tripping him onto the ground, and ushered them all through the open door.

“Em?!” Alice gasped once inside. “What are you doing here? And where’s your uniform?” She took in her sister’s jeans and oversize shirt – a far cry from her off-duty outfits.

“I, uh – I left the army,” Emma said with a wince.

“What?!” Alice cried, her eyes doubling in size and Emma shushed her. “What do you mean? Did they kick you out?!”

“No! I just – I had to go,” she said to the floor, before snapping up and threatening her sister, “Don’t tell dad.”

“Why were you lurking in the shadows?”

Her sister shrugged. “That’s what I do,” she said, obviously. “Stashed my bike there – I was staying at uncle Jake’s. Was on my way home when I saw a distinctive group of people in a car.”

The door suddenly opened again and Daniel ran in. “I – I heard yelling – are you okay?”

“Oh god, he’s still around?” Emma groaned. “I thought you would have grown bored of him by now.”

“Stop hating on my boyfriend!” Alice snipped and Ash shushed them all.

“Hate to break up the reunion,” they looked at Emma – who they had only seen on pictures. “I’m—”

“Yeah yeah, Ash Perry, larceny—”

“Why am I only known as that?” they muttered. “Can we quickly go before we draw attention from the teachers?”

The group quietened, looking into the hallway they had broken into. Even though Alice had gone to this school for four years, it looked a lot different in the dark – and without people. She swallowed away her doubt, telling her team, “Room E17 – let’s go.”

Alice led the charge – adrenaline still pumping through her veins. They reached the room and she put Tyler, Daniel and Emma on the look out as Ash picked the lock.

This was going well, Alice thought – almost too well, but she didn’t want to downplay her achievement. Finally she was doing what she was born to do. She knew once they were back home and Ash gave their present to her mom, she could boast about a perfect executed heist.

Ash opened the door and the two of them stumbled into Mrs Woodruff’s class. “Go!” Alice whispered and she watched them quickly pick the lock to the desk drawer. Every fiber on her skin was suddenly on edge, and she looked at the door. Suddenly Emma and Tyler ran in, closing the door and flattened against the wall.

“Mr Layton!” Emma hissed. “Duck!”

Ash and Alice hid under the desk.

“Wait? Where’s Daniel?” Alice whispered and her sister shushed her. “You didn’t sacrifice my boyfriend, did you?!”

“Ha ha! Still a good one, Mr Layton!” Daniel’s voice called in the hallway. “Yeah I’ll tell him you said hi!” A minute later there was a tap on the door’s window and Alice looked up to see her boyfriend in one piece, eyes wide and gesturing they needed to go now. Right at that moment, the desk’s drawer clicked open and Ash snatched the wooden puzzle from it. Daniel opened the door for them, an eye out on the hallway.

“What did you tell Mr Layton?” Alice asked when she left the classroom last and started to jog to keep up with the group.

“That I was here to return the Mathletes medal so that he could display it in his classroom,” he murmured. “He made his stupid math joke again.”

“The one about apples?”

“He still does that one?” Emma asked. “And what did he say when you didn’t have the medal?” They reached the door they had come into.

“I carry around my medal everywhere,” Daniel said with a shrug and Emma rolled her eyes.

“My sister is in love with such a nerd.”

“Never mind that,” Alice said, opening the door. “We did it!”

Elated, Alice and her crew stormed out of the school – and right into the view of her dad casually leaning against the family car.

They all slowed, staring at Eliot – who had his arms crossed and a frown between his brows. He seemed to check each and everyone of them to make sure they weren’t harmed – with the implied promise they were not out of the woods.

“D-dad?” Alice stammered, stepping forward. “Wha—how – where’s mom?”

“Hot wiring Daniel’s car,” he said, still casually.

“She is?!” multiple kids asked – Daniel’s voice squeaky high, and then Eliot shook his head.

“No, but she’s waiting there to take Daniel and Tyler home,” he finally said, and his eyes were locked with Emma. Swallowing, Emma picked at her shirt, before grabbing Tyler and Daniel by the collars and dragging them away.

“I’ll drive with mom,” she said, postponing a conversation she didn’t want to have. This left Alice and Ash just staring at Eliot, and he jerked his head to the backseat – silently telling them to get in.

Ash clutched their little box, wondering if this blatant display of trouble-making was going to send them back into the system. Never had they experienced silence in the car with Eliot – and even Alice was fidgeting with her hair due to the awkward silence. They followed Daniel’s car – first to Tyler’s, who was met with a cross looking Sophie, and then to Daniel’s – who had to sneak back in, his parents seemingly blissfully unaware.

Emma joined Ash and Alice in the backseat and Vera took her spot in the passenger seat.

Alice opened her mouth a few times to say something but Emma smacked her head from behind to keep quiet. Ash just looked at their shoes.

At the farm, Eliot told them all to get in and sit on the couch whilst he and Vera took a moment to speak.

“Did mom say anything?” Alice hissed to Emma, who gave her a tight lipped look. “What do I do, Em?”

“You grin and bear it,” she simply said, giving Ash a little push to go inside – almost to shield them from her parents. The three of them sank onto the couch, twiddling their thumbs and chewing the inside of their cheeks. Finally their parents entered, a look of disappointment marring their faces.

Eliot crossed his arms.

“Do you have any idea how badly this could have ended?” he said, straining hard to keep his voice from booming. “We thought we had raised you better than this.”

Alice swallowed. “I just wanted to help Ash,” she said, timidly. “They took their stuff!”

“And you could have come to us for help,” Vera said calmly. “We would have understood.”

“But—” Alice trailed, biting her lip. “This is what we do. What I want to do. It’s what our family has been doing for decades!”

Eliot was turning red in the face. “With practice, and knowledge and prep—”

“You stole an actual heart in an airport with zero prep,” Alice bit back. “In just an hour!”

“I don’t think you can compare Ash’s present with a donor heart,” Emma remarked but sucked in her lips the second she caught her dad’s eye.

“All I’m saying is that I want to help, it seemed pretty straight forward,” Alice huffed. “We didn’t get caught.”

Eliot pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s because your mother went in and distracted the teachers,” he sighed, and Vera looked at the floor. “And your uncle Hardison remotely switched off the alarm and circumvented the calls to the security company.”

Alice’s breathing began to hitch rapidly and from the corner of their eye, Ash saw a fat tear roll down their cheek. “I – I’m—” she hiccuped, realization dawning.

“You can’t put yourself or others in danger like that, Al,” Vera said softly. “You’re almost an adult now – an older sibling.”

“Well we’re not all perfect like you, mom,” she snapped.

Eliot inhaled to say something, but Vera stopped him with her hand – her eyes round and fixated on her youngest daughter. “What do you mean, prin- Alice?”

Alice was still breathing heavily and crying, her arms wrapped around her stomach like she was hugging herself. “I – I just wanted to prove myself—” Her eyes flickered to Eliot. “D-dad has you on such a pedestal – and y-you never do anything wrong—”

Vera gasped. “I do and have done plenty of wrong.”

“Well it’s rarely witnessed,” Alice bit. “And never spoken of.”

Taking a deep breath, Vera looked at Eliot pleadingly, who shook his head slightly. An unspoken agreement hanging heavy in the air. But she took his hand, squeezing it. “She’s old enough to know.”

“I don’t – I’m—” Eliot let out a pained noise. “I’m going to make a call. And then you and I are going to have a chat.” He pointed at Emma before leaving to go to Vera’s office.

To Alice’s surprise, Vera held out her hand to her.

“Join me on the porch,” she murmured. “Em, please stay with Ash. And Ash – you’re in trouble, but not in trouble,” she assured them and they deflated, letting out the anxiety they had been feeling.

Alice ignored her mom’s hand but followed her to the porch nonetheless. They sat on the couch, Alice creating as much space as possible between them.

“So,” she drawled. “You going to tell me your big mistake then?”

“Yes,” her mom said softly.

“Why is it upsetting dad?”

Vera shook her head a little, wondering what to say. “He doesn’t like to be reminded. It opens a lot of old wounds, and well – your dad is your dad. He feels like he should have protected me better. And you.”

Alice turned her head with a snap. “Me?”

Her mom nodded, and told her the story of when she got abducted by a man named Damien Moreau. How much in danger she had been with a deadly drug and how their entire family had to come to her rescue in San Lorenzo – all whilst pregnant with Alice.

“Just because I wanted to help,” her mom murmured. “I wanted protect the world by giving a little bit of information here and there. But in truth – I was careless, arrogant. I heavily had gotten used to this protective bubble your dad offered. I hurt the ones I loved most.”

During the story they had gotten closer, Alice wanting to hug her but instead got hugged instead. “Mom—”

“This is not your burden to bear,” her mom assured, pulling back. “I don’t want you to see me on a pedestal. I’m just your mom – you existing makes me proud. There’s nothing to prove beyond that.” She tucked Alice’s hair behind her ears. “And if you, your siblings – your friends – are in trouble, you come to us, okay?”

“I’m such a shitty big sister,” Alice hiccuped. “And I’ve only been one for a few months!”

“Well you got a lot of time to learn, but mostly you need to just enjoy college!”

“College is boring,” she confessed. “The classes are boring and I have nothing to do.”

Vera quirked an eyebrow. “You’re in New York,” she said. “Find something to do. Something legal.”

Alice wiped away her tears. “What did you do? When you were in New York?”

“Broke into the library archive,” Vera said with a shrug. “Don’t tell your dad.”

And they both finally laughed.

Looking at her mom, Alice suddenly saw herself in her – in the twinkle of her eyes. Maybe they weren’t too different after all.

The door creaked open and Ash appeared, looking sheepishly. “I don’t mean to intrude but—”

“Are they having a Spencer stand off?” Vera asked, referring to her husband and eldest daughter, and made room for Ash to join her and Alice. “They’ll work it out.”

Of all the Spencers – Emma had grown the tallest, surpassing her mom and her dad. If she were to do a DNA test, it was sure to show that she got the majority of the Dutch genes.

She stood as still as when she faced her drill sergeants, finding facing her father scarier than those first few weeks in training. Both of them just stared at each other – blue eyes meeting blue eyes.

“What happened?” Eliot finally broke the silence. “I know you’ve been staying at your uncle Jake’s.”

Emma knew better than not to be hurt hurt that her secret had escaped the confinements of her hideout. A muscle twitched in her chin before she said. “I have accepted a separation. Voluntary.”

“Bullshit, Emma,” Eliot said, and she winced. “You’ve been dreaming of doing a tour since you were fifteen – why drop out right before you were due?”

“I didn’t drop out,” Emma bit back. “I took voluntary separation.”

“But why?” He looked at her pleading, worried anything he might say would push her away. “Did something happen? Do you need me to speak with someo—”

“No,” she said quickly – her eyes widening enough for Eliot to know something did happen.

“I can make a call—” he offered softly.

“That won’t be necessary, dad,” Emma said – less a soldier and more like his daughter. “I am happy with my decision.”

“Then why not come home straight away?” Eliot pleaded, saddened his daughter had not felt safe enough to come to him. “Why hide at Jake’s?”

“I needed some time.”

“You’ve wanted this for forever—”

“It’s complicated—”

“Did they do something? Say something? Just tell me – I have contacts—”

“Dad,” Emma said sharply. “I left because of you.”

The silence cloaked them. A single tear rolling down her cheek as she stared down the man she had looked up to her whole life – even as she had grown taller than him.

“Wha – what do you mean?” Eliot asked, voice treacherously high.

Taking a deep breath, Emma forced herself to keep looking at her dad – even though she wanted to tell the floor rather than him. “They found your file and connected it to me. And as amazing uncle Alec is at scrubbing you off the web – the US army keeps a well stocked paper archive.”

Eliot swallowed a lump in his throat – a sharp heavy lump. “Did – but – What did they say?”

“A mix of things, quite favorably at first regarding your skills and how I matched up.” She puffed her chest slightly. “Then it became less favorably. I was immediately approached by a private military company. Several actually – either to exploit my skills or to exploit my connection to you.” The muscle in her chin twitched again. “I am barely out of training, but I already have offers left right and center. The attention got noticed by my fellow privates, and it is not how I wish to be perceived.

“I am your daughter – proudly so,” she added firmly. “But I am not going that route.”

Eliot’s lower lip wobbled – overwhelmed with feelings he didn’t know how to express.

“So one of your old friends actually did offer me an out,” she continued. “General Vance commends you for raising a fine private. And for having a tall daughter.” She shrugged one shoulder and finally Eliot cracked a small smile before turning serious again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but Emma shook her head.

“The way they behaved – it gave me a lot of perspective,” she said. “And I just needed to sit it out before coming home. A home I am clearly needed because my baby sister wrecked havoc.” Her eyes had widened in disbelief.

“You’re not responsible for your little sister’s actions,” Eliot assured, and they both stood in the silence for a bit. “What do you want to do next?”

She sighed, and finally they felt like enough had been said so they could deflate – sitting down together on the couch. “I had been looking forward to traveling. Helping people,” she said, sounding extremely defeated.

Rubbing her back, Eliot tried to think of a solution. His headstrong daughter always had a strict urge to follow through her plan – it was no wonder the second her dream fell through, she spiraled and went to Jake instead. There was always someone ready to step up in their family – it really had taken a village to raise his daughters. This gave him an idea, and he bumped her shoulder with his.

“Leverage Europe can always use a hitter trainee,” he murmured. “I know you’re not as… charmed by the family business as your sister – though she’s definitely in overdrive – but – you’re talented, Em. A true Spencer dragon.”

Emma huffed. “I am too like you, aren’t I?”

“Spitting image, I’m afraid,” Eliot said, “Think about it – and stay here at the farm until you’ve worked it out.”

“I thought you had already decided?” she said with a frown. “You went to make a call?” Her dad usually always had a plan M in motion.

“Ah,” he said, wringing his hands. “No, uh, I just remembered something and had to upkeep a warning.” He patted his daughter’s back, nudging her to join the rest of the family outside. It gave him peace that Moreau would wake up with a black eye.

Outside Eliot and Emma were met with a cuddle pile on the couch, both Ash and Alice leaning against Vera. The second the kids clocked him they straightened up and Vera untangled herself, offering her space to Emma instead so the parents could take in the gang of troublemakers.

“Can I just ask one thing,” Alice piped up. “Before we get punished.”

Her dad gave a soft nod.

“How did you realize what we were doing?”

Eliot took a deep breath in. “You forget one of the cardinal rules of the confidence game,” he said, leaning forward and cheekily saying, “You can’t con a conman.”

“You have a tell when you lie,” her mother said to Alice, wincing for her. “I had money on that you were throwing a party but…”

“I figured it out,” Eliot grunted. “Well, that and Mrs Woodruff had actually called about Ash disrupting her class yesterday.”

“I – I didn’t!” Ash gasped.

“Either way, Mrs Woodruff is transferring to Florida in the New Year,” Vera said with her airily voice. “All very sudden.”

“These things do happen fast,” Eliot agreed, giving Ash a wink. “No bears unfortunately, but Florida itself is a punishment.”

“You never made any of my teachers disappear,” Emma said with a frown.

“That you know of,” Eliot replied darkly. “Anyway – what are we going to do with you three.”

The Spencer kids all gulped, wondering what on earth their parents had come up with. Was Christmas canceled? Alice suddenly worried about her birthday. But in the end her dad just said. “You’re all on truck duty during the food drive before we have Christmas dinner at HQ.”

Emma and Alice visibly deflated, but Ash looked confused. “What – what’s that?”

“Dad does a free food drive for the homeless each year,” Emma explained. “We’ll help out handing out food.”

“And the clean up,” Eliot added and his daughters groaned. “And I will be telling Parker.” More groans.

“She’s going to force me to take vent training,” Alice moaned.

“Forget vents – she’s going to put numbing cream on bells again.” Emma sighed.

Ash hadn’t mind helping with the food drive. It felt extremely rewarding and Eliot had given them a clap on their shoulder when they told him.

“That’s good to hear, kiddo,” he said. “I can teach you some cooking if you like – much more rewarding than picking locks. And you’re joining Thursday’s self defense class.”

Their eyebrows shot up. “Wh-why?”

“Emma told me about the bully,” he said softly. “You can learn simple ways to feel more confident. And it’s rewarding punching someone a bloody nose. If you don’t want to join a full class – Emma volunteered to give private lessons, but between you and I – she makes a terrible teacher.”

Ash swallowed, and watched Emma show Tyler – who was also doing his punishment – how to choke someone out. With Tyler being the volunteer.

“Stop that!” Eliot boomed at his daughter. “You’re not angling your elbow right, you know better than that!”

After the clean up, the kids joined the rest of the family at the jazz bar and Ash admired the enormous Christmas tree. Silently Parker had sneaked next to them, but Ash was observant enough to tell now.

“You like it?” she asked them.

“I, uh,” Ash stammered. “Haven’t really experienced an actual Christmas in a while.” Parker looked at them distraught.

“Well, we’ll have to have another one – babe! Second Christmas Day! Like in Europe!” She sent a thumbs up to Hardison, but he just smiled painfully. “Anyway, here—”

She handed Ash a card and they frowned. “A Christmas card?”

“Nope,” Parker said and disappeared in a way only she could. Alice, Emma and Tyler joined Ash – all with a similar card.

“A grading card?” Alice gasped. “I failed Grifting and Masterminding?!”

“Why do I only have a C in Hitting?” Emma asked with a frown.

“You drew attention – gotta be quiet, dragon,” Eliot said, shrugging.

“B plus in hacking?” Tyler gasped, looking at Hardison, who offered lessons immediately.

“Hey, I have an A in Thieving!” Ash said, smiling broadly. “I’ve never had an A in anything before!” Parker looked proudly at them.

“There’s a Glenn-Rieder forty five safe under the tree for you – from my personal collection,” she said before gathering the next generation. “And whilst your first job didn’t go well. Actually you all spectacularly failed. I do have one final grade to give you all.”

They all looked at Parker expectantly.

“It is the why that counts in our line of business. Why do we break the laws – apart from crime being fun?” Silence. “It’s because we help.” Her eyes rested on Ash before turning to Alice. “Young Spencer here may have failed,” and Alice winced. “But it came from a good place – so A plus for that.”

Alice puffed her chest slightly, knowing she still had a lot to learn. She turned to Ash, nudging them towards her mother and, understanding the hint, they picked up a present from under the tree and walked up to Vera.

Vera was about to open her mouth, probably to complain that she didn’t need gifts – and Eliot gave her a threatening look, but it was Alice who spoke, “Mom, they made it for you and we stole it for you.”

Sucking in her lips, Vera accepted defeat and smiled softly at Ash. She took the little box, unwrapping it from the Christmas wrapping, and gasped. “You made this?”

The family dispersed to give them space and Vera immediately went to work on the puzzle.

“This is so impressive,” she praised. “Ah!” A compartment clicked and Vera took out what was in it.

“I’m not one to bedazzle a frame but—” Ash murmured, but was met with a hug. After their birthday, they had allowed their foster parents to start hugging them. It was nice.

“I’m sure we can find a frame,” Vera assured, looking at the picture of them three at Thanksgiving – Alice had taken the picture. “I love it, thank you.” She showed to to anyone taking an interest.

“I have the perfect frame,” Sophie mused. “It used to host a Da Vinci.”

“We can bedazzle it with diamonds,” Parker agreed.

Ash smiled, a warm familiar growing feeling simmering in their belly. Best Christmas ever, they thought – not realizing that Parker was a hundred percent serious about Second Christmas Day.

Notes:

<3
Thanks to everyone who followed along - can't believe how much this story evolved from when a very indulgent young me who just binge watched Leverage.
If I get inspo at any point, I may add more - or if you have a request for any missing moments between the start and this ending, please do comment them.
xx

Chapter 5: Mr Quinn

Summary:

Mr Quinn comes to the farm.
TW: PTSD, alcohol

Chapter Text

The Spencer Farm, Louisiana, July 2036

Mr Quinn and Eliot had been in a favor trade off ever since the Dam job. A recon here – a sticky situation there; they almost considered each other friends. Almost.

At this point in time, Eliot was owing him – and Quinn was ready to cash in. After a brutal stint in [classified] Quinn managed to locate where Eliot was through [classified and an hour of the Macarena until he threw his phone into a river]. He really – really – wanted to crash somewhere he didn’t have to think. Eliot would provide such a place without questions – and would even make food for him. He hadn’t seen him in fifteen years – the last time they had seen each other, Eliot had asked him to help him with an extradition in Brunei. But he walked up to a random farm in Louisiana without calling ahead anyway. Even if Eliot wasn’t home; he wouldn’t mind finding him on his couch.

That was until he found said couch already occupied.

“I… Hello?” he asked, and the little brown haired girl – who looked about eleven years old – looked up from her book.

“Hello,” she drawled, nonplussed. Quinn just stared, wondering if he had entered the wrong house after all, but then was hit on the head by a shovel and dropped to the floor.

“How did he circumvent the alarm?” a teen’s voice asked.

“Maybe he’s on daddy’s safe list?” the eleven year old replied. “I can call Uncle Alec.”

Quinn opened his eyes to the blurry images of two girls hovering over him.

“What—” he groaned.

“Are you a friend of dad’s?” the older asked and the shovel she was holding sharpened into view, together with her familiar blue eyes.

“Is your dad Eliot Spencer?” he croaked, unable to get up because the teen firmly had her foot on his chest.

“Depends who’s asking,” she said. “Most friends would know who we are.”

“I’ve been… occupied,” Quinn said, feeling a headache build up.

“He seems all right,” the oldest murmured to her sister. “Mom should be home in a bit. She can decide if we should bonk him on the head again.”

“Who’s your mom?” he managed to ask, before the door opened and a tall blonde woman bustled in.

“Girls, your dad said we had a visitor – ah—” The oldest quickly hid the shovel behind her. The woman assessed the situation, giving her daughter a warning look before looking at the man on the floor. “Quinn?” she asked, and he groaned.

A minute later he found himself on the couch with an ice pack on his head. The woman – Vera – had taken out a well stocked first aid kit, and had offered to refresh the bandage on his hand. He had forgotten about his injuries that he had sustained from his previous job and now he felt weirdly taken care of.

“Sorry about my daughters’ welcome,” Vera murmured. “They’re quite reliant on our security system.”

“The blonde one seems self sufficient,” he murmured, putting the ice pack down and accepting a glass of water and a painkiller from the younger brunette girl. “Where’s Eliot?” he asked.

“Job in New Orleans, he’ll be home later,” Vera said, finishing up his bandage to a hospital standard. “He called to say you were walking up the driveway. Are you looking for a place to crash?”

“Yeah, uh—” he winced. “Sorry, I used to take advantage of his safe houses. I really just need to… switch off.”

Her face was soft as she looked at him. “You can stay in the spare room, but just to warn you – it is summer so there are two teens running around.”

Quinn frowned, confused how easily she accepted his presence, but he was too tired to question it. Somehow the farm exuded safety and he could tune out the loud noises in his brain. He followed Vera’s directions to the guest bedroom and found the oldest daughter – Emma – fluffing up pillows on the most inviting bed he had ever seen.

“My mom is making me apologize for hitting you in the head with a shovel,” she grunted.

“And are you sorry?” Quinn asked bemused and she shrugged. Chuckling, Quinn knew that even though Emma looked like her mom – she was the spitting image of her dad. It was crazy to consider that the man he saw help a drunk woman out of a club in New York twenty odd years ago was a family man now.

As soon as Emma left him to it, he dropped down onto the bed and passed out.

A few hours later he woke up in the dead of night to a glass of whiskey hovering in front of his face.

“Quinn,” Eliot greeted with a grunt.

“Eliot,” he replied, accepting the glass.

They retreated to the porch to not wake up anyone, and stared down the vast field that was cloaked in darkness.

“So you’re a dad?” Quinn mused.

“And you were in a Russian prison,” Eliot deadpanned, taking a sip. “Siberia’s rough, man.”

Keeping his lips thin, Quinn banned the memories from his head. “Definitely lacks beautiful women,” he said, trying to keep it light. Eliot squinted at him.

“Are you talking about my wife?” he squeaked. Quinn quirked his head and hid a smirk by taking a sip. Eliot conceded though, “She has that effect on people.”

“How did you go from screwing anyone that smiled at you to settling?” Quinn asked. “Last time I saw you was with that ginger chick? Way more your type I thought.”

Eliot cleared his throat. “That’s still my wife you’re talking about.”

Quinn choked on his sip, coughing. “That’s her?!”

Smirking, Eliot recalled the night.

February 2015, Manhattan, NYC

Eliot should have known better than to sneak to New York to be with Vera on a Friday night. Just as he had walked up to the student residence she had her dorm at, he watched her leave with a group of friends, already partying.

Just a glimpse of a sparkly mini dress and her long legs disappear into a taxi, gave him more than enough motivation to tail wherever she was going. It didn’t take great effort to track her at a club – just a quick license plate number run of the taxi. Getting into the club was looking more difficult – as the average clubber didn’t look like Eliot in the slightest. Not even a fat wad of cash would get him inside, but he had a better idea. He always dressed low-key whenever he came to New York, black jeans and a black shirt. The perfect uniform for a bouncer.

“Yo, my man,” he told the bouncer on duty. “Left my wallet the other night.”

“Who are you?” the bouncer asked, seizing him up through sunglasses.

“Tony,” Eliot said, like it was obvious. “The new guy? Wait hold up—” He pulled his hair into a pony tail, giving him his best bouncer look. “Threw that drunk guy who claimed to be a famous actor out last weekend – you don’t remember me?” He pretended to be hurt.

“Ah, yeah, didn’t recognize you with your hair down, Tony,” the bouncer said. “Eddie said you could pick up your wallet.”

Goons were so easy, Eliot thought, smacking him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

Inside the club the noise was deafening and he wondered how the people on the dance floor could even find a beat to dance to. He didn’t have to wonder long though – because in the middle of the floor Vera was showing him just how enticing the beat was. Her hair had faded from her bright pinup red, settling into a soft ginger. Her skin shone with sweat – or maybe even glitter – and her dress was tight, short and sparkly. She was mesmerizing – and he hated that he couldn’t enjoy it by himself, being forced to share her with the entire club instead. Clocking what kind of drink she was drinking, he moved to the bar to order her a refill. He took his eye off her for one second to accept the drink and she was no longer in the middle of the floor when he turned back.

Hoping she just went to the restroom, he scanned the room – looking for a glimpse of ginger. Upon spotting her, he broke the glass he was holding with his fist.

A guy had cornered Vera against a wall, hands on either side of her head and he was leaning over to yell into her ear. He was way too close to Eliot’s liking. Without caring about anyone else, Eliot made his way through the dancing crowd, shoving anyone in his way.

“Just piss off, Theo!” He heard Vera yell over the music once he got closer. “Leave me alone—”

“C’mon, Feather – why the little dress if not to get my attention?” the guy yelled back, pushing his knee between her legs. Eliot was seeing red.

“I dress for myself,” Vera snipped, pushing Theo best she could but the alcohol was making her sluggish. Theo reached up to caress her cheek and Eliot grabbed his wrist.

“The lady said no,” he grunted, unsure if anyone could hear him over the music but the intense look he gave the man should be a warning.

“Who the fuck are you?” Theo yelled.

“I’m her—” Her what? Boyfriend? He felt too old to be that. Eliot looked at Vera, who in return was looking at him with big eyes – big happy, but extremely drunk eyes.

“He’s my man,” she said, grinning tipsily. “Fuck off, Theo.”

Extremely satisfied that he was her man, Eliot said, “You heard the lady – Fuck off.” He pulled him off her, still holding onto his arm.

“Do you even know who I am?” Theo yelled. “I can get you fired – my brother owns this club—”

“Charming,” Eliot said, eyeing Vera who was biting her lip – seizing him up from head to toe. Feeling like he had enough, he twisted Theo’s wrist and pushed him into the crowd. Vera immediately had her hands all over him, pulling him against her so he was pinning her to the wall.

“Hey,” Vera said so softly he could only lip read it. Her breath was thick with alcohol.

“Hey back,” he said louder, adding amused, “You’re very drunk.”

“Whaaaaaat?” she exclaimed with a pout. “Nooo!” Her hands began to roam over his chest. “God, you’re hot.”

He wanted to tell her to look who was talking; it was indeed glitter on her skin that had captured his attention. She looked delicious – and carefree.

He was absolutely head over heels in love with her.

“I missed you,” she said, sneaking her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “Kiss me.”

“I’m not kissing you this drunk, what did you even have? You only just got here—”

She giggled. “We pre-gamed, silly! Fiona made her special cocktail.” Her hands disappeared into his hair. “Ugh, your hair—”

“Okay, drunkie – let’s sober you up—” he murmured, raising his hand up to grab her arm but she grasped his wrist with a gasp.

“You’re bleeding!” she said, showing him the cut on his hand – the glass he had broken already forgotten. Before he could protest, she dragged him to a hallway and into the ladies restroom, where they were greeted with catcalls rather than dismay.

Suddenly he was very close to her in a small toilet stall as she rolled up toilet paper and made him squeeze it in his hand.

“I’m sure the bar has first aid—” she mumbled, the thumping of the music vibrating the floor. Her eyes trailed to focus on his lips. Eliot reached up with his uninjured hand, stroking her jaw and cupping her cheek.

“I missed you,” he said, the sincerity blocking out any noise. Vera’s eyes were glassy – both with drunkenness and happy tears. He really wanted to restrain – to respect that she was drunk – and that even though the way she fully molded herself against him was the best feeling in the world – he had to be rational. So he took her hand.

“How about we go get some fresh air?” he suggested.

“But I wanna dance!” she slurred. “And make out! I haven’t seen you since Christmas!”

And it had been a very memorable Christmas – snowed in at an Upstate New York cabin. He had enjoyed the hot tub very much.

“We can make out once you pass a sobriety test,” he promised and opened the stall door to lead her to the exit of first the bathroom (again lots of cat calls) and then the exit of the club. But before he could smell the fresh air, someone grabbed Vera and stopped them. Eliot had been ready to punch this moron Theo again, but it was a woman.

“And where are you taking my friend?!” she yelled, looking ready to fight Eliot.

He opened his mouth, but Vera exclaimed, “Feeeee!” She yanked her arm free from Eliot and engulfed the woman in a drunken hug. “I missed you!”

“I can’t take you anywhere!” the woman said. “You’re always fighting men! What are you doing with this one?” She judged Eliot from head to toe.

“This is him!!” Vera exclaimed, and Fiona’s eyes went slightly bigger, connecting some dots Eliot didn’t know about.

“The cowboy you invented to keep off creeps?!” she cried. “He’s real?!” She turned to Eliot. “You’re real? I thought she just tried to scare off people by having a pretend boyfriend!”

“I d-don’t need him to do that,” Vera slurred. “I can three way kick ‘em—” She did a poor attempt of what Eliot had seen her do before when fighting the goons in Greece. “I just don’t want to kick Theo because, well, you know—” she looked at Fiona. “—and his bodyguard is scary – and handsome…” She trailed off into the distance, suddenly sobering up a bit. “Oh god, you pissed off Theo!” she said, looking at Eliot with wide eyes. “We should go – Fi, I looooooove you – I’ll see you Mondayyyyyy!” She hugged her and pressed a kiss on her friend’s cheek, before stumbling to Eliot and dragging him outside.

“Wait—” he tried but Vera almost pulled him onto the street, yelling for a taxi. “Slow down!”

She lost her balance and Eliot scooped her up, carrying her to an alley to take some time to consider their options.

“Noooo,” she drawled and he put her back on her feet, only for her to double down and dry heave. “Ugh.”

“I was kind of waiting for that,” he murmured, rubbing her back. “College life, huh?”

She groaned. “‘M never drinking tequila again.”

For a minute he let her pass whatever was making her nauseous, pulling her hair back in case she actually needed to hurl.

“What did you mean by that I pissed off Theo?” he asked after a while. She groaned again, remembering and jumping up.

“Oh, we really need to go—”

“Why?”

“Because he’s—” She went to walk towards the street but was met with Theo, pointing a gun at them both. Eliot finally got a good look at him – taking in his suit, shoes, haircut and gun. All of them very distinctive to be -

“Mafia?” he sighed, then looked at Vera. “Seriously?”

Theo smirked. “Theodore Shea,” he introduced himself. “And you pissed me off.” But Eliot was nonplussed, favoring to bicker with Vera instead.

“How are you attracting this much trouble?” he said.

“I don’t do it on purpose!” Vera said, stumbling on her legs and resting against the wall. “I like this club! Can’t help it it’s mafia owned—”

“But you knew he was mafia?”

“Yeah, look at his shoes—”

“And you still went?”

“The drinks are cheap—”

“Because of the mafia, dammit Vera—”

Theo cleared his throat. “Hate to break up this domestic, but I’ve got a score to settle.”

He cocked the gun – Eliot returned it with a cock of his eyebrow.

“You think that scares me?” he asked and crossed his arms. He walked out so the gun followed him, giving Vera protection.

Snapping his finger, another man joined Theo and both Eliot’s eyebrows went up.

“Ugh,” Vera said with disgust. “Why would you bring your bodyguard to a club, Theo.”

But Eliot knew this bodyguard, and he and Quinn looked at each other in quiet understanding – before Quinn knocked Theo out from behind so he crumbled onto the street.

“Not your usual gig,” Eliot commented lightly.

“Sabbatical,” Quinn explained. “Paid well, not much action. That’s us even?”

“Yeah, you owed me for Bondi Beach,” Eliot grunted, turning to Vera and stroking her hair to cover her face so Quinn couldn’t see her well. She was frowning at him.

“You know his hot bodyguard?” she murmured.

“You know Feather?” Quinn asked Eliot.

“Feather?” Eliot turned to him.

“His stupid nickname for her.” Quinn gave his former boss a nudge with his shoe. “He’s been chasing her since January.”

Eliot sighed, murmuring to Vera, “What am I going to do with you.”

“I was kind of hoping for lots of things this weekend,” she said with a drunken grin, and added with frown, “I’m thirsty.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Quinn said with a smirk. “I’m off to find a new job.”

“Hey!” Eliot called after him. “I’d appreciate if you forget—” He gestured to Vera. “I’m not really supposed to be here.”

Quinn shrugged. “I guess you owe me one!” And he left the two to it – not that he would have told anyone about Eliot and his mysterious girlfriend anyway. That wasn’t his business.

“You married Feather,” Quinn mused, clinking glasses with Eliot back on the porch. “Didn’t the Shea family get caught on a RICO charge the week after?”

The wink Eliot gave told Quinn enough, before he cleared his throat to bring up why he was there.

“—I can leave tomorrow—” Quinn said after explaining, but Eliot shook his head.

“Stay, calm your head. Siberia, man, hope the extraction was worth it.” Eliot got up. “But just a head’s up – my eldest has her birthday on Saturday.”

Quinn’s head automatically began hurting again. “You don’t need a DNA test for that one.”

Laughing, Eliot nudged him to go back inside. “If you don’t mind I have a wife to cuddle.”

“Didn’t she say I was a hot bodyguard?”

“I have no recollection of that,” Eliot grunted, and made sure Quinn was back in the guest room before joining Vera in the master. He stripped himself off his shirt, changing into pajama bottoms and spooned her from behind under the blanket.

“Hmm?” she murmured, smacking her lips. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah,” he wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, before teasingly whispering in her ear, “Feather…”

She groaned in embarrassment. “I can’t believe he remembers that.” After her little night out – and the absolute happiness she felt when Eliot had shown up – she had woken up in a strange bed with a hangover. There she was met with all things that was going to fix said hangover: a glass of water with a painkiller next to it, the smell of something bacon-y being fried coming from the doorway – and she was wearing a shirt that smelled like her favorite person.

The only thing that was missing was her actual favorite person. Chugging the water and the painkiller, she gathered her wits and tip toed to where the delicious smell was coming from. Every time Eliot had come to visit her, they had stayed at random places – safe houses or one of Eliot’s many friends’ apartments. At this point she stopped question whose place she had woken up in.

She found Eliot in the kitchen, cooking what looked like bacon and eggs, and he gave her the smuggest smile upon spotting her.

“Good morning, drunkie,” he teased and Vera groaned. “Hey no judgment here – I once drank a professor under the table for a job.” He plated her a generous portion of bacon, eggs and toast. “I’m just glad you’re feeling safe enough to drink. Excessively even.”

Quietly she sat at the breakfast bar, taking in the apartment, and put together the perfect first bite, before admitting, “It took me a while, but I gathered a reputation to not be messed with. Discouraged most people after I kneed Trey in the balls—”

Eliot unintentionally cracked his knuckles when his hand turned into a fist, imagining fellow students falling at her feet. “Didn’t discourage a certain mobster though,” he said sternly. After Quinn had left, Eliot had bundled Vera up into a cab – and she almost instantly passed out against him.

It had been then she had murmured something he had longed to hear for quite a while, but wasn’t sure if she would remember it. So he let it be.

“Theo is harmless, I don’t know why he got impatient yesterday.”

He watched her tuck into her breakfast, brewing darkly about what he was going to do with Theo once he got to Boston to see Sophie and Nate. Once she had some carbs and fat in her, she looked a lot more happy – smoothing her ginger hair and smiling at him dopey through mascara smudged eyes.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey back,” he said.

She abandoned her empty plate and the breakfast bar, walking around it and right into Eliot’s open arms. “You told me you weren’t going to be able to visit until April,” she told his neck.

“We got a lucky break.” He kissed her temple. “Just visiting Soph and Nate in Boston – and then Mexico.”

Pulling back, she looked at him with wide eyes. “Whereabouts? In Mexico?”

“The uh, Yucatan area?” he answered with a frown and she groaned.

“We were going to Cancun for Spring Break,” she moaned. “I’ll fake a bug and not go—” Then she stabbed his chest. “This could have been prevented if we could start texting.”

“You don’t have to cancel your Spring Break on my part—” Eliot defended. “What would be the chances Parker and Hardison run into you?”

“As high as a mobster running my favorite club,” she sighed. “I attract trouble! I’m a trouble magnet!”

She had a point, he had to admit.

“How about I keep you posted?” he murmured, a mischief in his tone.

“How?”

He pulled back, grabbing something from his bag, and slid the phone across the counter to her. “I’ll probably text you from different numbers, but… we can keep in touch.” The phone was old school – something Hardison wouldn’t even sniff at, but it was perfect to maintain this thread with Vera.

She stared at him with glassy eyes, a happiness filling her face that was a near mirror of how she had looked at him once he had finally gotten her to the apartment the night before. He had considered having her take a shower before bed – not wanting to explain the glitter on the sheets – but she had been half asleep already. Because he hadn’t want her to wake up feeling vulnerable in any way, he sacrificed one of his shirts that he packed to be her pyjamas – but that still left her having to take off her sparkly dress.

Without shame or hesitation, she sleepily shimmied it down her body – leaving her in a lacy lingerie set. Eliot had to take deep inhales through his nose to calm his rapidly heating up body. He actually closed his eyes when she reached to undo her bra from behind.

She was going to be the death of him.

Even with his eyes closed he felt her approach him, her hand gently pressed against his speeding heart.

“Vera…” he warned. Knowing she was practically nude in front of him was killing him, but he didn’t want to screw up what they had. He vowed to establish boundaries once she was sober.

“I’m gonna say something you’re not gonna like,” she said softly – a soft sleepy whisper.

“And what’s that?” he said with a swallow. He felt her take the shirt from his hands and move away.

“That you’re a good man,” she said after a moment of shuffling sounds, before a thud filled the room and upon opening his eyes, he found that Vera had passed out on the bed.

He took a deep breath in, licking his lips – and reciprocated what she had told him in the taxi on their way here.

“I love you too.”

The Spencer Farm, Louisiana, July 2036

Quinn weirdly settled into the comings and goings of the Spencer family. He even joined their family dinners, dropping opinions from football to music to chess to movies – all met with opinions of their own.

Eliot sparred with both his daughters – one afternoon he was being chased in the garden where they had the biggest water balloon fight he had ever witnessed. He had declined to participate after he learned that Vera had a secret stash of water balloons – and she won by a mile.

“Daddy refuses water guns,” Alice, the youngest, had told him after she joined him back at the farm – soaked to the bone. “Apparently Uncle Alec had rigged some two years ago which resulted in a hole in the shed door. Daddy had a looooooong chat with him after that.”

Quinn couldn’t help but be amazed by how normal of a family they were – the living proof that family is family if you accept your own brand of weird.

The next day, as warned, was Emma’s birthday – and the whole farm was covered in balloons. Emma, now fourteen, had moaned her embarrassment but definitely secretly loved it. Quinn was surprised by the amount of people arriving around lunch time – all bearing gifts for Emma and a returning surprised face when spotting Quinn.

He was just wondering if he needed to retreat to his bedroom to let the partygoers be, but a balloon popped suddenly behind him and before he could rationalize it, he was curled up into a ball on the floor.

“Mommy! Daddy!” Alice yelled, her voice muted in his mind with noises from the past overtaking. Hands touched him and he wanted to fight them, but Eliot’s voice was there – talking him through it.

“This is Eliot Spencer, you’re having a flashback – Hon, please can you get—”

“Of course,” Vera’s voice said, still muffled.

“Deep breaths, Quinn, slowly and steady,” Eliot said, his voice becoming clearer. “Can you describe the carpet?” Quinn frowned, the floor he was looking at was blurry, but slowly it became clearer.

“B-blue?” he stammered.

“That’s it – what else is in the room?”

They went through more and more items in the hallway until Quinn was fully back in the room, lastly describing a picture of Eliot and Vera on a Ferris Wheel. He only realized two people were watching them – Vera and a man he didn’t know – once he was out of the episode.

“Hola amigos,” the man said, before telling Vera and Eliot. “And felicidades with your eldest.”

“Thanks Paul,” Vera said, giving him a quick hug. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Quinn,” Eliot said after Vera left. “This is Dr Paul Orozco.”

He took in the man and couldn’t help but really like his eyes and curly hair. “H-hi—”

“Dr Paul specializes in PTSD,” Eliot continued and Quinn realized that this was not a social introduction.

“Hola Quinn,” Dr Paul said with a kind smile.

“He has a clinic—”

“Several clinics thanks to this guy,” Dr Paul said proudly, nodding at Eliot. “The first one blew up.”

“Not helpful,” Eliot said through gritted teeth. “Anyway – I think it may be good for you to see Dr Paul on a regular basis. Or even stay there—”

Wincing, Quinn shook his head. He didn’t need help – he just needed rest. “No—”

“You do realize I know exactly why you were in Siberia?” Eliot said firmly and Quinn flinched. “Yeah, that’s what happens when someone accesses my file, I research back.”

“Stupid Macarena,” Quinn grunted.

With a gentle – but forceful hand – Eliot made him look him in the eye. “Dr Paul has saved my life – twice.” He told him about the time he got shot and Dr Paul got him to the helicopter. “And then he saved me again last year – when I had a lot more to lose.”

Eliot took a deep breath, his voice wavering and tears filling his eyes before he blinked them away. Quinn felt his pain – and couldn’t imagine coping with what he had gone through knowing that there were people that would miss him.

“But as skilled as he is as a surgeon – he can offer you even better help with your PTSD.”

Quinn wanted to fight, wanted to tell him it wasn’t a big deal, but in the end he found himself in Dr Paul’s car at the end of the evening with his bag.

“You’re on the right path, amigo,” Dr Paul had said as they drove off – the Spencers waving them goodbye.

He never told Eliot that he made the right call and that his sessions with Paul helped – though he was sure he knew.

He did however tell him that he and Dr Paul were dating.

But only after two months or so.

Chapter 6: Aimee Martin

Notes:

TW: Death of a parent
Yeah, still messing about with this story.

Chapter Text

September 2031, Carson Oklahoma

It was not how Eliot had imagined spending their anniversary.

Ten years had passed since their Coney Island elopement and he was wearing black from head to toe, with Vera – also in black – taking his hand. She smiled at him sadly.

“He lived a very long life,” she murmured.

Eliot choked and swallowed.

“I missed out on decades, only got him back nine years ago.”

“Nine amazing years,” Vera reassured and cupped his jaw. “Nine years with his granddaughters and his son.”

Letting out a watery chuckle, he rested his forehead against her. “You know you were his favorite.”

“I know,” she murmured softly, straightening his tie. “I’m going to check on the girls. Take your time, okay?” She pressed a kiss on his cheek before leaving the room with a final mournful glance. Sighing, he looked around his late father’s bedroom. His old man had refused a nursing home, or move closer to him in Louisiana. Billy Spencer had been so stubborn that he got exactly what he wanted: a quiet ending in the town he fought for.

The whole town of Carson had been at the funeral, and Eliot had let those who his dad had affected the most talk rather than speaking himself. It had been shopkeepers, people he had coached football – and lastly his own little girl that had taken the stand. Emma was so fearless that she had straightened her shoulders and spoke lovingly about her grandpa, which was something she wanted everyone to know.

“No one cracks a joke or throws a punch like grandpa,” she said fiercely. “Except maybe my own dad.” She had looked proudly at him then and it had been the moment he let himself feel the grief that his dad was no longer there.

After the funeral they were hosting a memorial at his home, which they had been slowly clearing as time went on. The team, of course, had been their biggest support – though Parker was no longer allowed to explain to Alice where grandpa went now that he was gone. Though Eliot was sure his whip-smart daughter already knew; Vera had given her specific books to learn about it.

After the many condolences he had needed some time to recoup and he had gone into his dad’s bedroom. Taking a deep breath, he opened the closet and pulled out one of his dad’s flannels. The door behind him opened again, and he assumed Vera had returned.

“The girls coping all right?” he asked, turning around, expecting his wife, but finding someone else instead. “Aimee,” he breathed.

She, too, was dressed in black, and had aged gracefully since the last time he had seen her – twenty three years ago in Kentucky when they saved her father’s horse.

“Eliot,” she said gently. “I, um, I read about B-Billy and – well,” she sighed deeply. “I wasn’t sure if you’d… made up since…”

The flannel in his hand crumpled as Eliot unintentionally made a fist. How many people had he left behind like this? How many had he cut off? There had been Aimee, his dad and Vera even for a bit. He needed to do better.

Then reminded himself that he was doing better.

“We did,” he grunted. “Made up, I mean. But it felt quite late in the end.”

Aimee smiled sadly and she approached him. “I’m glad to see you, and that your team from back in Kentucky is still around.”

Eliot smiled, remembering how Hardison would still show him the video of him riding the horse every now and then. “They’re family. You called them that even.”

They were maybe three feet apart now, and Aimee crossed her arms.

“Now I might have been seeing things, but is there a miniature version of you reading a book in the corner of the living room?” she asked and Eliot let out a chuckle, almost grateful for the distraction from his grief.

“That’s Alice,” he said. “My youngest. She’s a real Matilda.”

“Which was coincidentally the book she was reading,” Aimee said, nodding before looking at the floor. “Please tell me that the tall blonde woman isn’t Mrs Spencer?” She looked back up, only to find Eliot wincing guiltily. Groaning she added, “She’s way too kind and normal looking.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” He stepped closer, the flannel still in his hand. “You should see my eldest, looks like an absolute angel but will floor you without mercy. And she’s only nine.” His sadness returned remembering how his dad had held baby Emma and it must have been showing in his face as Aimee stepped toward him and gently pushed his hair behind his ear.

Though it felt familiar, he had no remaining sentiment to her doing this. Vera did it all the time and it made him feel whole – this felt nothing but a memory.

“How you doing anyway?” Eliot murmured.

Aimee huffed. “Eliot, your dad passed away, never mind how I am – how are you?”

He nodded, before swallowing away tears. “I miss him,” he choked. She wrapped him into a hug before he knew it and he dropped the flannel to put his arms around her waist. It was comforting, but again nothing more than just that.

The door opened and he pulled away fast. Both he and Aimee found Emma in the doorway. She was also dressed in black. With her long blonde hair reaching halfway down her back, Aimee agreed she looked like a little angel. Her blue eyes were puffy and they widened at seeing her dad with a strange woman.

“Um,” Emma said, looking from one to the other. “Mommy said to…” Her voice trailed off, unsure what to make of the scene she walked into and instead just turned around to run away.

“Oh boy,” Eliot murmured, picking up the flannel and putting it on the bed. “That’s not gonna end well.”

“Is your wife the jealous type?” Aimee asked.

“Not quite,” he murmured with a dangerous undertone.

Aimee didn’t understand what Eliot had meant by that, but together they rejoined the remaining mourners. She had sat out the actual funeral that morning, not sure if that would cause an uproar of some sorts, but was glad she got to reconnect with Eliot at the memorial service.

She spotted the blonde girl that had walked into them talking to the equally blonde woman she had suspected to be Eliot’s wife. He did have a type after all, she noted. The striking blue eyes of the daughter darted towards them and she quickly spoke to her mom before throwing her hair over her shoulder and running away again.

“Best to stay away for sec,” Eliot murmured, which of course only spurred Aimee on to approach the wife anyway. She never shied away from confrontation.

Mrs Spencer looked at her curiously, taking her in from head to toe as the distance closed between them. “Hello,” she said, a vague accent in her voice.

“Hi,” Aimee said briskly, slightly jealous as she took in the woman. “I’m—”

“Aimee Martin,” the woman said, offering her hand. “I’m Vera.”

“Vera Spencer,” Aimee said through gritted teeth. A last name she weirdly had an attachment to.

“The one and only,” Vera said, retracting the hand that Aimee didn’t shake and looking around the room with still that curious look. “How about some fresh air?” she suggested, glancing over Aimee’s shoulder. Aimee could sense Eliot’s piercing eyes on them and before she could say anything, she let herself be gently guided outside to the backyard.

Who did this woman think she was? Eliot had said that she wasn’t quite the jealous type, but why else would she want to speak privately with her? Was she going to chew her out for hugging her husband?

And then suddenly Aimee remembered where she was. “Oh my god,” she gasped, stopping Vera by touching her arm. “What am I doing? It’s a memorial, it’s Mr Spencer’s memorial – why am I—”

“Hey, hey,” Vera said gently, trying to calm her. “It’s okay. Emotions run high—”

“That’s no excuse for me to go jealous ex girlfriend on my teenage sweetheart’s wife.” Aimee felt tears in her eyes and embarrassment in her heart.

“You only said hello,” Vera murmured, shaking her long blonde hair over her shoulder just like her daughter had done. “I was hoping to meet you at some point. It’s a shame it’s under sad circumstances.”

Aimee blinked. “You were hoping to meet me?”

“Of course,” Vera said, surprised at her reaction. “You were a big part of my husband’s life.”

Another blink.

“He – he told you about—”

Smiling warmly, Vera nudged her head to the park nearby and began to lead them to it.

“He loves sharing knowledge,” she said. “And never shies away from letting people know who he learned things from. Our eldest showed an interest in horses one blue moon and my, oh my, did Eliot info dump everything he knew about horses.” She looked at Aimee. “And who he learned it from.”

“I’m—” Aimee startled. “He would talk about me? That openly?”

Now Vera startled. “He loved you,” she said, like it was obvious. “And respected you. Deeply. So naturally so do I.”

“Wow,” Aimee said, looking at the floor. “You really aren’t the jealous type.”

Vera laughed. “With his line of work? No can do. He once flirted with a rollercoaster attendee so he could get Emma to ride it with him. He did that in front of me. But when I proposed—”

“You proposed?!”

“Yeah, he will say otherwise,” Vera said with a shrug. “Ten years ago I proposed and told him I would let him do his job, but no matter what, he had to promise to come home to me.”

“A promise he didn’t keep me,” Aimee stated, suddenly hurt, but then rationalized. “Though he was eighteen and an absolute stubborn hard ass. I’m – I’m glad he became better. He seems a lot greater at things.”

“Eliot Spencer is great at multitudes of things,” Vera agreed, saying it almost begrudgingly. “Fighting, problem solving – being a dad,” at this she smiled. “Cooking.”

“Bickering,” Aimee added.

“Oh, his love language for sure.” Vera winked. “But do you know where he got his recipe for baba ganoush?” Aimee shook her head and Vera said, “From a woman running a vegan supermarket in London.”

That was a weird thing to share, but Aimee let her talk.

“He knows about MRI chambers because he dated a neurologist, knows fashion because of a model—” Vera sighed. “He became better because he loves to learn.”

Aimee couldn’t help but wonder what could have captured Eliot’s attention for at least a decade, so she asked, “What did he learn from you?”

At this Aimee seemed to have caught Vera off guard and she looked at her perplexed. Vera took a long time before she answered. “You know… I think nothing.” Her eyes shone at the realization. “In the beginning at least. I had nothing to offer, I was very lost, mind you,” she said. “We both just kind of knew that we liked each other very much. Circumstances tried to keep us from exploring that, but once I stopped being lost, I guess… we learned together.”

“Do you have a specialist topic at least?” Aimee asked and again Vera marveled at her.

“No,” she said, almost excitedly. “I edit books, but I edit anything. I love learning as much as he does, so in a way we’re terrible enablers to each other!” She let out a laugh.

Aimee wasn’t sure if she liked Vera, but she was fascinated. She could see how Eliot would be eternally curious about her.

“Anyway,” Vera suddenly said. “This conversation is not passing the Bechdel test. Tell me – are you still managing the stables?”

“Oh! Why yes.”

Anxiously Eliot awaited the return of Vera and Aimee.

“I got my money on that they’re now besties,” Hardison said to his right.

“Cat fight,” Parker said astutely.

“At my father’s memorial?” Eliot hissed. “Really?” But Parker just shrugged right as the two women returned. They seemed… fine. He watched Vera call over Emma and introduce her to Aimee. After a minute of chatting, Vera left Emma with Aimee and walked up to rejoin him. Both Parker and Hardison conveniently made themselves scarce.

“What are they up to?” he asked, jerking his head to Aimee and Emma.

“Retrying Emma’s love for horses,” Vera sighed. “Our backyard stable will need to see an animal some day.”

In silence they watched them chat, before Emma took Aimee’s hand and began doing the rounds of introducing her to everyone.

“I told her you weren’t the jealous type,” Eliot said, watching Aimee meet Dr Paul.

“Oh I am extremely jealous,” Vera said bitterly.

“Whaa—” Eliot stopped and turned to stand in front of her. She was clenching her jaw and slightly pouting her lips. “Wait – you’re actually jealous?”

Her eyes flickered up to him, a fire behind them that he had not seen before. Then she softened, gently stroking his chest.

“I’m always jealous of those who got to know you before I did,” she confessed. “To have known you as a teen – gosh I can only imagine.”

And for the first time that day, a soft genuine smirk curled on his lips. “I was a quarterback,” he boasted.

“Yeah, we didn’t have those kind of things in The Netherlands.”

His eyebrows raised. “No prom?”

“Dances, sure, but no asking people as a date.”

“I would’ve asked you,” Eliot said, smiling but Vera gave him a look.

“You would’ve gone to jail,” she said. “You do like to forget there’s some years between us. I was half your age when you went to prom.”

“At least tell me what clique you were in.”

She gave him another look. “You know damn well I was in the library every day.”

Squinting at her, he didn’t quite believe it, and from across the room he spotted Sophie.

“You so were in drama club,” he murmured.

“Shut up,” Vera said, her cheeks turning red.

“Oh my god you were!”

He actually laughed now, and quickly swallowed his chuckle. How could he be laughing at his own father’s funeral? But somehow he heard his own father telling him that he didn’t want his funeral to be a sorry affair.

“You know,” he said, bumping her shoulder. “My high school is still here. We could… break in?”

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. “Are you serious?”

“My picture is still in the trophy case.”

“Ugh, you must have been the perfect athlete—”

“All rounder! Football, wrestle—”

“Bet you didn’t get into basketball.”

“Hey!” he said, but was still smiling. “We can’t all be tall and Dutch.” Like magnets they were suddenly engulfed in an embrace and Eliot kissed Vera’s temple. “Thank you,” he murmured. He pulled back and she gave him the softest smile.

It was time for them to go home, back to the farm.

And with that, he knew the hardest was yet to come.

Eliot stared at the scissors, swallowing hard. He was sitting at Vera’s vanity, quite gingerly, he had to admit. Never had his ritual been this hard.

As he peered into the mirror, Vera appeared behind him. She didn’t say anything and simply stood behind him, pressing a kiss on the crown of his head.

“Tell me why again,” she murmured and with her hands she raked through his long hair. Eliot closed his eyes.

“When I worked for… Moreau – he, um, he ran a tight ship. All his men in suits, all their hair kept a certain way.” Upon reopening his eyes, he saw Vera staring at him in the mirror, an intensity in her eyes as she thought of the cretin that was Damien Moreau. She then began braiding his hair and nudged him. “Go on.”

He cleared his throat.

“After I left, I rebelled straight away. Growing my hair, wearing more casual clothes. But the damage was done. I was known, but only as Moreau’s puppy with short hair. If I were to cut it, I would be vulnerable. So I cut off my hair when I grieve as a sign of vulnerability. The chance to be recognized.”

She released his braid. “Don’t some Indigenous cultures do it as well?” she asked. “As a sign of a fresh start? Or a major change in their lives?”

He couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “Let me guess, you edited—"

“I edited a book about that.” Another kiss on the top of his head, before she stated softly. “You cut your hair for me. After Greece.”

“Well,” he murmured. “You were quite the major change in my life.”

To signify Vera ‘dying’ and to make it as real as possible to his family, Eliot had cut off his hair before meeting her on Coney Island. That was nineteen years ago. He had since cut it for Nate Ford, and right before he was going to do it for Dr Paul Orozco; the bastard turned out to be still alive.

But his father wasn’t.

So now he was going to cut it for him – to mourn Billy Spencer, to honor him. And to probably make him roll his eyes in heaven for this ridiculous ritual he cooked up.

He took the scissors in front of him and reached back with shaking hands. Tears filled up his eyes. Never had it ever felt this final; this much of a farewell. He couldn’t even open the scissors before Vera took them from him.

A sign of relief left his body, but he opened his mouth to tell her that he had to do it. He looked up at her in the mirror and before he could say the words, Vera brought the scissors to her own long blonde hair and cut off the length. It fell onto the floor of their bedroom in a messy heap.

“Hon—” he gasped, but Vera was unperturbed, snipping the scissors a few more times until her hair hung just above her shoulders. She shook her head and let out a shuddering breath. It was like she was standing straighter; nothing weighing her down anymore.

Offering the scissors back, she said softly, “For Billy.”

But as Eliot took them, he spotted someone in the mirror, staring at them in the doorway. “You okay there, dragon?” he asked Emma.

“Why is mommy’s hair on the floor?” the nine-year old asked in return.

“To honor grandpa,” Vera said simply and immediately Emma entered the room.

“I want to honor grandpa.”

For a second they all just stared at each other and Eliot didn’t know what to do. He was overwhelmed with emotions and was in no state of mind to think of what he could possibly tell his little girl. But Vera calmly beckoned Emma closer. “All right,” she said.

Avoiding Vera’s hair, Emma took her spot behind him, looking at herself in the mirror over Eliot’s shoulder.

“You sure, dragon?” he couldn’t help but murmur.

“It’ll grow back,” she said, her voice determined. “I’m going to miss grandpa a lot. I want to honor him.”

They shared a quick glance in the mirror, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. Vera had already made work of braiding Emma’s hair and Eliot offered her scissors. “These are big people scissors,” he said, “be careful.”

“Cut as much or as little as you want,” Vera added, squeezing her shoulders.

Emma took the braid, held it taunt and cut somewhere halfway. “I’ll miss you grandpa,” she whispered and then looked at Eliot. “Your turn, daddy.”

With renewed strength, Eliot took the scissors and cut off his braid with a swift snip.

They all stared at each other in the mirror and Eliot’s heart felt full. Vera raked her hands through his rough hairdo. “Would it undo the ritual if I clean it a bit with the trimmer?”

He chuckled. “No.”

Emma was shaking out her own hair. “Can I go shorter?”

“Of course,” Vera assured. “How about a trip to the salon this weekend?”

“Yes! I think I want a boys cut,” Emma said, smiling broadly, before she reached for the scissors again and asked, “Can I cut Allie’s hair in her sleep?”

“No!” both Vera and Eliot boomed.

The next morning Alice stared at her parents and sister at the breakfast bar – all of them with significantly shorter hair.

She put her book – Coraline – on the bar, thinking that maybe she was too young to read it after all.

“You not hungry, princess?” her dad asked. “You hardly touched your—”

“Are you my other family?” she squeaked, looking at them all frantically. “I am not cutting my hair!! Or sewing buttons on my eyes!!”

With a knowing look her mom took the book away.

“I did warn you.”

Series this work belongs to:

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Comments

LimeFlamingo on Chapter 2 Wed 17 Jul 2024 05:50PM UTC

This is so sweet!!

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1. foxxed on Chapter 2 Thu 18 Jul 2024 08:48AM UTC
  
  The right kind of schmoop they deserve 🥰
  
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LimeFlamingo on Chapter 3 Thu 18 Jul 2024 05:32PM UTC

I'm so obsessed with this!! So sweet - so much love in the most kind and giving and accepting way 💕 Eliot and Vera are great parents.
Also this: “I’ve seen him in Macbeth! He was terrible!” made me laugh so hard I almost choked 🤣

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1. foxxed on Chapter 3 Thu 18 Jul 2024 06:53PM UTC
  
  Parker’s grifter recruiting methods are fault proof 😉 and thank you 💕 I wanted to do like an outsider perspective of this weird little family
  
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Florafairy on Chapter 3 Thu 18 Jul 2024 08:26PM UTC

❤❤❤💕💕💕

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cgarcia555 on Chapter 4 Sun 11 May 2025 02:25AM UTC

Oh my!! All the little Easter eggs in this one! I laughed so hard on the “smells like antiperspirants” line my husband thought I’d list my mind.

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