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The Sky's Gonna Open

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This story is No. 4 in the series "The McDonald Boys". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: This is a story in which Eliot gets de-aged and kicks Nate in the nads, his twin Lindsey turns up to get him out of trouble but laughs himself sick first, Hardison geeks out, Sophie is bad with children, and Parker is Dorothy. "McDonald Boys" verse.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > LeveragepoestheblackcatFR131829,17232012,8055 Mar 1229 Apr 12Yes

Piece of Pie

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Piece of Pie

Lindsey huffs. He hates this. This de-aging business is not only throwing Eliot off, it’s throwing him off, and he does not like it. At all. Especially when Eliot, the one that’s not supposed to cry, uses it on him, knowing full well the effect it would have on him. And this, right after Lindsey’s accusation that this version of Eliot cries too much. It’s not fair.

“I hate you.”

“Right back at ya. Sucka,” Eliot cackles exultantly, waving the little plastic baggie with a few strands of his hair in it. It’s cute. You can’t help wanting to pinch his adorable pink cheeks.

Except Lindsey wants to sock those same cherubic cheeks instead. He holds back. It might count as abuse of a minor, and he doesn’t want to get on the wrong side of the law, having a healthy respect for it and its countless intricacies.

“I hate you.”

Eliot giggles. “I know!”

“I hate you.”

The team gapes at the pair of them.

“Did Eliot just con his brother?” Sophie asks, a little dazedly.

Nate tilts his head, thinks. “It’s not really a con if he knows what’s going on. Good use of pathos,” he adds, “Lindsey’s law training seems to have rubbed off on Eliot. Either that, or he’s been paying attention to your lessons in grifting. We could use that to our advantage.”

Sophie makes a disapproving noise at him and glares.

Nate looks at her. “What?” he asks, not seeing the problem. Child labor is something that happens to other people. And technically, Eliot isn’t a child. So using him to charm marks wouldn’t be unethical in the least. He’ll be just another tool in the toolbox.

Meanwhile, Eliot and Lindsey seem to have come to some odd kind of mutual agreement of “hating” each other. Or rather, accepting the fact that Lindsey hates Eliot and the way he giggles and gloats at the whole situation.

“We always gave in when our little sister did that to us. And she did it all the time,” Eliot explains, grinning at his brother. He snorts, “Linny always gave in first.”

“Nuh-uh, the way I remember it, you did, Mr. I’ll-give-ya-candy-if-ya-just-stop-cryin’,” Lindsey retorts with a mocking tone at the end.

Eliot shrugs, not really caring who really gave in first, just that Lindsey did just now. “Ya know, I’ve never done that before,” he says, putting his hands in the pockets on his tiny jeans and grinning widely. “That was incredibly…liberating.”

Lindsey gives in to his fraternal instinct and cuffs him on the back of the head. Hard. “You ever do that again, I will spank you. Got it?”

“Yessir,” Eliot says, saluting. “Scout’s honor.”

Lindsey rolls his eyes. “Wrong hand, midget. And you’ve never been a Boy Scout in your life. I should know.”

Eliot flips Lindsey the bird in reply. It’s accompanied by the most adorable, dimpled smile in the world.

Lindsey’s left eyelid twitches.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They settle on what to do about this whole mess after pie. After pie, because pie is sacred (which, incidentally, is why π is an infinitely never-repeating number - It’s magical).

Throughout pie time, however, Lindsey and Eliot go through a series of facial acrobatics that Parker thinks is hilarious, Hardison thinks might mean they have some kind of weird genetic facial tic dealio that’s activated when they’re in close contact, Sophie is able to read quite well, and Nate pretends to ignore. There is also surreptitious kicking under the table, but no one pays any attention to that.

Yeah. No one. Ouch. (Someone just missed.)

When the last bite of pie has been devoured, Lindsey huffs at Eliot and growls at the rest of them, “Looks like you guys just hired yourselves a new hitter,” through bared and gritted teeth.

Eliot beams at him.

Nate looks between the twins. “What?”

“Don’t worry, Nate,” Lindsey says, putting his plate aside and folding his hands. “I come highly recommended. Do you need a resume? Curriculum vitae?” he asks with a sarcastic smile.

Eliot nods. “He’s good. He’s a big fat liar, but he’s good. I trained him. The physical stuff, not the magic part. Now you can do cons safer ‘n I don’t hafta worry so much about you guys gettin’ hurt ‘cause you’ll have backup. An’ I can keep an eye on him so he doesn’t keep tryin’ ta kill himself.” He glares at Lindsey as he says the last part and gets a disgruntled growl for his trouble.

Parker’s staring at Lindsey, scrutinizing him. “Do you have magical healing powers?” she fires at him.

He frowns. “Umm, not at the moment, but that can easily be arranged. Why?”

“Eliot does. Do you cook?”

Eliot snorts. He gets it: it’s an interview, Parker-style. “No, he doesn’t. Can’t even make Jell-O properly,” he says gleefully.

Lindsey scowls at his shorter brother. “Hey! That’s not true. I can, too.”

“Can not.”

“Can- ” He stops mid-sentence and puts his face in his hand. “What the hell am I doin’? You manipulative little- ” He pounds the table with his available fist.

Eliot grins up at him. It’s not adorable at all, nope, not at all. Punchable, definitely, but not adorable.

“Okay, you can’t cook,” Parker continues. “That’s bad. But can you sing?”


“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Eliot sing-songs, rocking back and forth in his chair. There’s such a joyful grin on his face that it’s hard to stay mad at him. Lindsey manages it anyway. “You can’t lie to the team. And I can tell when you’re lyin’, even if I did know that you can sing.”

Lindsey sighs and rolls his eyes. “Fine, yes, I can sing. But I don’t sing in front of people, so don’t expect me to play fiddle in a con.”

Eliot crosses his arms.

“I don’t sing in front of audiences anymore,” Lindsey adds stiffly onto his statement to make it true. “Brat.”

Eliot nods in approval. He turns to the team, bouncing in his seat. So, what do you think?

“Umm,” Hardison starts, not really believing this Twilight Zone-Parent Trap world. “Okay. But only if you teach me how to hack using magic.”

Lindsey nods shortly.

Parker heaves a huge sigh. “Fine. He’s not Eliot, but no one’s Real Eliot except for Eliot. At least he looks like Eliot. He’s Fake Eliot.”

Lindsey doesn’t even grace that with a reply. He simply glares at his twin. You expect me to work with Crazy over there? You owe me. Big.

Sophie turns to the mastermind. “Nate?”

“We’ll give it a trial run,” he tells the former borderline-evil lawyer. “One month. Then we’ll see.”

“Alright,” Lindsey says pleasantly. “Now that that’s all settled, please excuse me. I have to go drown my annoying little brother.” And he scoops Eliot up in a one-armed fireman’s hold and stalks away.

Eliot struggles and thumps his small fists against the broad back. “Lemme go, you dick! Put me down!” This is not how he wants to be repaid for saving Linny’s suicidal ass.

Parker follows them saying, “Hey, wait up! I wanna watch!” and Hardison rushes after her with his cell phone on “record.”

Sophie starts to say something and pauses. “Um, should we do something?”

Nate grunts and pours himself a drink. “He won’t hurt him. Eliot trusts him, and Parker and Hardison are with them. Eliot’s safe.” He stops to rethink what he’d just said. “Probably.”

Sophie looks at him. “We should…” she says, and cocks her head at the door.

“Yeah.” Nate takes a sip of his whiskey and follows his team out in case they need a mature adult supervisor.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

AN: The Boy Scout “wrong hand” thing was from “The Two Horse Job.” I thought it was really funny of Eliot to do that. Does anyone know, was that a Chris’n’Tim improv thing, or was it in the script?

Pie. Oh, pie, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways: 3.14159265…Readers may recall Dean Winchester’s “Don’t forget the pie!” line here. Simple coincidence. *cough*

This is the last chapter. It’s been a fun ride, and thanks for all the wonderful reviews.

Anyway…Wow. I bet this didn’t end the way you thought it would. You all thought this last chapter would be a fix-it, huh? But nope. Eliot’s stuck (for now). Just ‘cause. Don't worry, there's more. So stick around and read how the Leverage team makes Lindsey into a team player!

The End

You have reached the end of "The Sky's Gonna Open". This story is complete.

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