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Crybaby

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This story is No. 7 in the series "The McDonald Boys". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: “McDonald Boys” verse, post-“Sky’s Gonna Open.” De-aged Eliot is allowed to participate in cons. This, however, is not what he had in mind.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > LeveragepoestheblackcatFR715151269914 May 1214 May 12Yes
Summary: “McDonald Boys” verse, post-“Sky’s Gonna Open.” De-aged Eliot is allowed to participate in cons. This, however, is not what he had in mind.

One-shot.

Disclaimer: Angel and Leverage do not belong to me, etc.

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Crybaby

Eliot wanders into the reception room of the mark’s office. He makes sure that he looks like the lost little kid he’s supposed to be playing.

“Hey there,” the secretary says, finally noticing him. She smiles. She’s practically flashing a neon sign with “Loves Kids” spelled out on it. If he’d been thirty years older (heck, at this point, he’d settle for ten), he would so be hitting on her right now. As it is, from this height, he can’t even see down her shirt.

“Are you lost?”

Eliot nods and tries to look scared. He worries the hem of his t-shirt.

“Eliot…Now!” Nate barks into his com.

Eliot suppresses an eye-roll and a huge sigh. After one reluctant beat, his lower lip begins to wobble, tears fill his eyes…

…and then he begins sobbing as if the world has come to an end and he’s just found out that there is No. More. Ice cream. Or (horror of horrors) pie. And Curious George has been made president of the universe.

Ooh, that is scary. The tears come much more easily after that thought.

The secretary hurries around the desk and tries her very best to console him. “Oh, you poor dear. Don’t cry. Where’s your mommy?”

That prompts another broken-hearted wail, this time accompanied by, “Mamaaaaaaa!!!”

“Oh,” the poor flustered woman says, “Oh no, no, no. Don’t cry. Um, what’s your mommy’s name? We can find her in the directory.”

Eliot blinks up at her through wet eyelashes. “Her name’s Mama,” he says in the matter-of-fact manner of all small children around the world when faced with such an obvious question as that.

He can see the “Right, of course” that goes through the woman’s head just then. Ya like children now? Huh?

Through the large window behind the secretary, Eliot can see Parker ransacking the mark’s office, looking for evidence of his dastardly deeds.

“Mama?” he asks the secretary hopefully, and lets his lip wobble again for added effect. He bats his teary eyes at her and looks up at her with an expression so chock-full of innocence and trust that he feels like he might go diabetic from it.

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Half an hour later in the van, Eliot scrubs his face with a tissue and glares at Nate. “You’re lucky I look a lot younger’n I am. Kids normally don’t cry for mommy when they’re seven.”

Lindsey snorts. “Really? I remember- ”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll shove this tissue up your ass.”

“That’s gross. That is really unhygienic, ya germy little crybaby. Yaaagghh! Geroffame! Gross!”

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AN: Poor lady. I’d hate to be in her shoes. Crying children make me feel really bad, like really, really terrible…I mean, all that snot. Where does it come from? Well, anyway, you definitely know where it’s going - into a huge wad of tissues, and not on my shirt, thank you very much. (Okay, seriously. I don’t make kids cry. [They just start crying on their own when they see me…*kidding - it was just once, okay?*])

The End

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

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