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Old Friends

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Summary: Fic-A-Day Challenge; The team needs information for a job, Eliot thinks he knows someone who can get it. Implied slash only

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > LeverageSilkenSkyFR1511,000233,88421 Aug 0921 Aug 09Yes
Title: Old Friends
Author: Sky
Rating: PG-15
Crossover: Leverage/Buffy
Pairing: implied past Eliot/Xander, implied Xander/Spike, implied Eliot/Nate
Characters: Spike, Xander, Eliot, Nate
Word Count: 946
Disclaimer: The characters and stories of Leverage and Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to their respective creators and owners
Summary: The team needs information for a job. Eliot thinks he knows someone who can get it.
Warning: Slight spoilers for The Two Horse Job; takes place sometime season 1 leverage, a couple of years post-chosen for BtVS
Author's notes: I watched the first five episodes of Leverage today, and oh my god, BEST. SHOW. EVER. So… yes. This is what happens.

*****
“So you don’t even know this guy?” Nate asked, his doubt obvious.

“My contact vouched for him,” Eliot said calmly.

“And you trust him?”

“With my life,” he answered, and that was that.

They approached the dilapidated building from around back like they’d been instructed. Eliot knocked sharply on the door, paint peeling off as it shook. The door opened and a broad-shouldered man, taller than Eliot and Nate both and with thick dark hair obscuring half his face glared at them from the dark interior of the building.

“Thought I told you I never wanted to see you again, Spencer, the man said angrily.

“I don’t remember ever askin’ for your permission Harris,” Eliot drawled softly.

Nate looked between the two with slowly escalating alarm. Finally, after at least a full minute of hostile silence, the man at the door –Harris – broke into a huge grin.

“Still getting into trouble, Spence?”

“I told you before, that one in South Africa was on you,” Eliot retorted, smiling in a way that Nate had only seen twice before, once directed at Amy, and once, recently, at him. He frowned.

The other man smiled back and reeled Eliot in for a powerful bear hug. “I can’t believe that it took a job for you to get in touch again man.”

Nate did a double-take. Was Eliot blushing? “I’ve been… busy,” he said, shooting a glance at Nate.

“I can see that,” Harris said dryly, looking between them. He opened the door wide and stepped back, but didn’t invite them in. Eliot didn’t seem to think this was strange and walked through the doorway.

The building was as run-down on the inside as it was on the outside. Eliot’s friend led them through the abandoned warehouse to the other side of the building where none of the sunlight streaming through the broken windows reached. The lights were on here, and they showed an old card table surrounded by folding chairs. Only one of them was occupied, by a compact man with white-blond hair and a cigarette hanging negligently from his lips.

“This them, pet?” The blond stubbed the cigarette out on the scarred surface of the table.

“Sure are. Spike, this is Eliot Spencer and Nathan Ford. Eliot, Mr. Ford, this is Spike.”

Nate groaned. Mr. Ford? Was he really that old? The kid didn’t look so much younger than Eliot, probably in his late twenties. “Please, call me Nate,” he said, ignoring Eliot’s suppressed chuckle. He extended his hand. “And you are…”

Realization dawned on his face. “Oh, of course! I thought that Eliot had told…” he trailed off as he took in the wince on Eliot’s face. “I’m Xander Harris.” They shook hands, and Nate absolutely did not think about how this Xander kid knew all about him, but Eliot hadn’t even told him who they were meeting.

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments until the blond spoke with a rough British accent. “Well? You interested in what I got or what?” he demanded impatiently.

“Right,” Xander said, jerking his eyes from Eliot. “Nathan, Spike has all the information you need. Spike, why don’t you take Nathan, um, upstairs, to show him the, uh… the stuff.”

For his part, Spike just rolled his eyes. “Come on, mate. Let’s let these two get themselves sorted.” Loathe as he was to leave Eliot with the stranger, he didn’t really have a reason to refuse. He followed Spike up the stairs and wondered if the information was worth it.

Once they had disappeared from sight, Xander turned back to Eliot. “Missed you, El,” he said softly.

Eliot ran his fingers through his hair. “You too,” he confessed. “Thought you said that you two were over,” he said, jerking his head in the direction Nate and Spike had gone.

Xander grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “I really think we’ve got it this time, you know? I’ve kind of realized what’s important.” He took his hands from his pockets and made an aborted gesture towards Eliot. “What about you? Still running?”

Eliot shot Xander a look that clearly said that he didn’t appreciate the dig, but sighed. “Yeah. No.” He spread his arms wide. “Christ, I don’t know. I might… I might have something real good going here, Xan.”

Xander grinned knowingly. “Mr. Nathan Ford?” he asked, smirking.

“Not just him, but… yeah. Him.” He ran his hands through his hair again. “I don’t know if it will work. You know what kind of man I am.”

“Yeah,” Xander said seriously. “I do.”

Eliot rolled his eyes. “Idiot,” he said affectionately. He covered the two steps that separated them and rested his forehead against Xander’s. “Not everyone is as good as you think they are,” he whispered.

“You are,” he whispered back fiercely. Eliot chuckled and let his arms go around Xander. After a minute they heard their other halves clambering down the stairs. They separated slowly.

Eliot looked at Nate. “We done?”

Nate nodded. “We’ve got everything we need.” He nodded at Xander and Spike. “Thanks a lot for your help.”

Spike just nodded back as he lit another smoke, but Xander said “No problem. Anything for a friend of Eliot’s.”

Goodbyes were said and Nate and Eliot walked out of the old building and back to the car. Nate broke the silence. “He seemed like a good guy.”

“He is.”

Nate suppressed his sigh. It wasn’t like he’d really expected Eliot of all people to suddenly start volunteering information about his life, but it still hurt a little. They were in the car and headed back to headquarters when Eliot spoke.

“So I’m in jail in Mozaimbique… “

THE END

The End

You have reached the end of "Old Friends". This story is complete.

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