Untitled Counterpoise x Leverage drabble (2015-08-28)

Connie is dressed up in her spoiled, barely an adult, heiress persona–with freaking Eliot Spencer as her supposed bodyguard–when she spots a bright shock of messy blonde hair out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh fucking shit,” she curses, turning towards goddamn Eliot Spencer, so her face is hidden from what she is pretty sure is her twin brother and his mentor.

“What is it?” Eliot Spencer, what the hell, asks. If he weren’t constantly on alert, Connie would say he went on alert, but as it is his awareness just heightens instead. He moves in closer to her but doesn’t crowd her, which is greatly appreciated.

“Connie,” Ringo prompts over the comm line, when she continues to curse instead of answering, “What’s wrong?”

“Noah’s here,” she says between gritted teeth, because this sucks. This entire con might fail because her cover will be blown and it’ll be her fault.

“Who’s Noah?” Parker asks, skilled enough to simultaneously indulge her curiosity and break into the penthouse suite of a seventy story tall building.

“My brother,” she admits, hiding her grimace behind her flute of champagne. This is embarrassing and unprofessional.

“Noah? The only Noah on the guest list is…” Alec Hardison says, no doubt pulling it up on his computer in the surveillance van to check, “A Noah Gunderson, junior partner at Stuart and Hathaway law firm.”

“We have different last names,” Connie explains, and she feels stupid because this is something she should have checked before.

“Ooh, that’s him alright,” Zachary hisses through his teeth so as not to bring attention to himself as a waiter talking to thin air, no doubt spotting Noah himself, “I didn’t know he made junior partner, though, congrats to him.”

“Just last month,” Ringo says cheerfully, unhelpfully, “I sent a fruit basket with all of our names on it. God knows he needs the vitamins.”

“Ugh, you assholes can congratulate him in person when he finally spots me and kills this whole op,” Connie mutters.

“Hey, it ain’t over yet,” Eliot Spencer, oh my god, says reassuringly, and she doesn’t even flinch away when he puts a hand on her shoulder. She’s ruined the con and she’s freaking out? So embarrassing and unprofessional.

“He’s right; we can fix this,” Zachary says, grifter mind already flipping through options and strategizing. “You haven’t made contact with the mark yet, and the only person you’ve introduced yourself to as Leona is the VP and she’s already left the party. Get rid of Spencer’s tie, undo the top two buttons of his shirt, and loop your arm through his.”

“Oh god, this is why Noah hates us,” Ringo moans, easily catching on to the plan.

She follows Zachary’s instructions quickly, huddled in close so it’s not too obvious that she’s partially undressing someone in the middle of a formal party. With a casual movement, she drops the tie to the ground and kicks it beneath a table unseen, before turning around and linking her arm through his. In less than five seconds Connie turns from billionaire heiress to high class escort. Just in time, too.

“Connie?!” Her brother shrieks, the epitome of subtlety and class. Mr. Hathaway, Noah’s mentor, turns to look–and probably regrets it, what with the way his face twists at the sight of her. He’s always been extremely awkward around her.

“Well now, darling,” Eliot Spencer, she’s too busy to come up with more epithets, drawls–catching on and playing up his Texan accent–loud enough for her approaching brother to hear, “I thought your name was Rachel.”

“It is,” Connie says, insistent, as if she really were an escort under a pseudonym whose real name had just been shouted across the room, “He must be mistaking me for someone else,” and this time she glares at Noah, as if she really were angry at him for blowing her cover. Which she is, just not this cover.

“Oh,” Noah says dumbly, obviously, before unconvincingly adding, “I don’t know you at all! Sorry about that, you just looked like someone… oh, shrimp puffs!” He says, spotting a tray being carried over by a waitress, “Aren’t shrimp puffs great?”

Zachary and Ringo both sigh, out of relief and exasperation.

“I see acting skills do not run in the family,” Alec Hardison remarks dryly.

No they do not, Connie thinks as she watches her brother awkwardly try to chaperone what he thinks is his sister hired as an escort for some rich pervert. She is so sorry, Eliot Spencer.

A/N: Not an immediate continuation, but it is related to this drabble. Which would probably help make sense of the above drabble. And, again, this is me adapting my OCs from Counterpoise into Leverage.

Gotta get some stuff out of my system.

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Untitled Counterpoise x Leverage drabble (2015-08-17)

The phone rings.

Connie, being the closest to the phone, immediately crumples up a piece of paper and chucks it at Zachary’s head in the strange hopes that maybe he’ll pick it up instead.

He is not amused, lobs the paper ball back at her, and goes back to his cup of tea.

The phone rings again.

Connie hisses, head swiveling around to try and find Ringo to pass the responsibility onto him. He is nowhere to be seen.

The phone rings for a third time.

She has no choice. She has to answer it.

“Leverage Incorporated, this is Connie speaking,” she says, voice light and even.

“This is Alec Hardiso–”

She hangs up.

“What the hell, Connie?” Zachary asks, having watched the entire production, “Was it telemarketers?”

“Nooo,” she stretches out the word, quickly backing away from the phone.

This time, when the phone rings again, Zachary is closest. Which means he has to be the one to answer.

It rings.

“Damn it, Connie, that doesn’t count!”

And rings.

“Those are the rules!”

And rings.

“You obviously had it first, you can’t just hang up and run away!”

And rings.

“I panicked!”

And–

“Leverage Inc,” Ringo says, having apparently appeared while the two of them were shouting at each other. Amazed, Zachary and Connie stop yelling at each other, to watch Ringo handle the call maturely.

“Yes, I understand. No, that is within our capabilities. Thank you, I will make sure she knows that. Okay then, we look forward to seeing you in person. Goodbye.”

Once the call has ended, Ringo takes a deep breath, the screeches, “It was the original Leverage team!” ruining the cool persona he had built in the last thirty seconds.

There is a reason the three of them are friends.

“No, fuck you, no way!” Zachary says, clambering over the back of the couch to stand next to Ringo and the phone.

“See?” Connie shrieks back, vindicated.

Ringo nods in complete agreement.

“No, no, no! Fuck you guys, you’re totally playing me!”

“It was Alec Hardison,” Ringo says, not even blinking an eye as Connie, their resident hacker, temporarily swoons, “Their team has a target who owns a vacation house in the city, they wanted our permission to operate here. And asked if we would be willing to help out.”

“Oh my god, hell yeah!” Zachary agrees raucously.

“And he says that Connie’s work on the Oceanus security system was impressive,” he reports dutifully.

Connie’s breathing somehow grows higher in pitch.

“Wait a sec,” Zachary says, cutting into their collective fannish admiration.

“What?”

“Are they coming here?” He asks, looking around unimpressed. The base of operations for their particular branch of Leverage is a small warehouse with a bathroom and a tiny walled office area. It is strewn with wires, various weapons, a worrying amount of empty pizza boxes and take out containers, and one corner has three dressers bulging alarmingly full of costumes.

They have work to do.

~

A/N: So this is just a random scene from a fic I’m not going to write which is basically me adapting the Counterpoise team into the Leverage world. I seriously am not going to continue this, I just needed to get this written down because it was bugging me.

So in this Westernized form of them Zakuro is Zachary, Ringo is still Ringo, but Konran goes by Connie because her real name is Conrad. As said before, Connie is the hacker, Zakuro is the grifter/grease-man, and Ringo is the enforcer. Though they do all have skills in each area.

[I will get back to Descendants fic tomorrow. I’m sorry, everyone, I just totally blanked.]

Fake Fic Summaries 4/? (2015-07-22)

1) “Due to a series of events not nearly as wacky as expected, Darcy has a legion of various superheroes and villains at her beck and call.

Or, because Darcy technically bested Thor in combat, and Thor has yet to challenge her to a rematch, he and all those he has defeated are Darcy’s thralls by right of conquest.”

Well, originally, it was going to be just Loki as basically Darcy’s disgruntled djinn-like figure. But then I had problems figuring out why it would just be Loki and not Thor or other people Thor have defeated. So then I figured, well, the situation is ludicrous enough that why should I try to minimize it to just Loki. Go all the way!

I figured it would start small. Like, for example, Darcy may just be randomly walking around outside and Loki’s doing some crazy over the top plan, but right as Darcy’s even mildly endangered–Loki, being able to teleport, appears before her and rescues her. Then bristles and runs away. And it escalates. The Doom-bots avoid her for some reason, even when she’s the easiest/best target. Etc. etc.

If someone can figure out a Loki-only variant I would love to read that, too.

2) “According to Nate, Hardison dies in plans C, F, and M through Q. Eliot dies in none. Parker dies in none. Sophie dies in none, though that is subject to change.

How many plans does Nate die in?”

So I was watching Leverage on Netflix, as one does. The series is lovely, but strangely not very conducive to long fic. So, short fic it is.

Anyway, in episode 4×10 “The Queen’s Gambit Job” at the end, Nate literally says that Hardison (usually) dies in seven plans. And it’s played off as comedic, but my first instinct was to flinch. Because… why Hardison and none of the others?

But then I realized, Nate didn’t say how many he died in. And, probably, it’s because he died in a lot more of them. So Hardison dying frequently is due in part because of how similar he is to Nate–for the other three, being a criminal was a matter of survival (well, I’m guessing for Sophie). But for Nate and Hardison, they became criminals because they were good at it. So their priority isn’t always to survive, it’s to make sure the plan/team survives. Hence the multiple deaths for Hardison. And Nate.

So I guess the fic would be one of those… multiple bad ending formats. Sort of like:

“Plan A fails two hours in, when Nate underestimates the mark’s proclivity for gambling. Instead of falling for Sophie’s charms, he ignores her to stay in the poker tournament.

At the close of the day, Elliot, Nate, and Sophie’s covers have all been burned. There goes plans B, D, E, and K.

Time to move on to Plan C…

Parker is wearing a dress and no harness but she has to get out now so she jumps. She falls six stories. She breaks a leg, but survives, and hobbles out of the building just as the bomb goes off. She cries, not from pain, but because Hardison was still in the server room…

Unacceptable.

Plan G–but in Plan G, Sophie gets arrested. Extradition orders get tangled up, so she languishes in maximum security prison. There is no team to break her out because Elliot is in the hospital, Parker is in the wind, Hardison has also been arrested, and Nate is dead.

Try again.”

Y’know… something like that.

~

A/N: I’m so fond of the fake fic summaries series. It allows me to express plot bunnies which I don’t really want to pursue but would take up brain space if I don’t articulate them somehow.