Title: The Intervention Job
Summery: Sophie's been in the habit of holding interventions ever since the one with Nate, and this time Hardison is her next victim.
A/N: I don't know where the hell this came from, and it's probably really ridiculous lol. I don't even know if it has a proper point. Its just kinda... there. Here. Whatever.
The use of interventions between the team started when Nate was an alcoholic jackass. It was Sophie's idea – of course – because she likes to solve other people's problems without taking five friggin seconds to glance at all of her own fucked up issues. But the interventions didn't stop with Nate. Two months later, Sophie decided that everyone should hold one for Parker "to focus on her attachment issues." Which basically, when it came down to it, was about her borderline disturbing obsession with money.
That intervention was one for the books, with Parker getting upset, really upset (which was a bitch to watch just because it was Parker, and the girl never shows any other emotion rather than blatant nonchalance and a complete lack of empathy). Eliot wouldn't say it worked exactly, but she did stop petting it and talking to it in that creepy way that some adults sometimes feel the need to talk to babies with. Eliot's pretty sure she was dropped on her head as a small child. Multiple times.
Sophie considers the intervention a success, however. Eliot considers it a waste of time.
The next one, or rather the current one, the one that's making them all stand in Nate's apartment with freaking little note cards that they all have to read off of right now, is with Hardison. While normally Eliot would go tell Sophie where she needs to stick her note card while having a nice long look at herself in the process, this one was way too good to pass up.
It all started because Parker was snooping in Hardison's sock drawer. She just does that, snooping, being all up in everyone's personal space without having a half a clue of how annoying she's being. After the vibrator fiasco with Sophie (which, if Eliot is to be honest, was possibly the best day of his life – or at least the damn funniest), Eliot decided to start hiding what he didn't want Parker to see in a storage facility. He figured everyone else would get the hint and try to do the same, seeing as putting a lock on anything is useless when it comes to Parker, and no matter how many times Sophie sits her down and tries to explain what privacy means, she still doesn't get it.
But Hardison apparently did not take the vibrator incident as a warning, because here they all are.
The door opens to Nate's apartment, and as soon as Hardison sees everyone standing there in a line with their little note cards, he stops dead. Eliot smirks. Damn, he can't wait for this one.
"Ya'll can't be serious," Hardison says, looking at each one of them, a look of disbelief on his face. "Are you about to bitch about how much time I spend online? Because let me remind you, it's what I do. You take away my baby, you take away your hacker. Baby, hacker. Comprende?"
"Hardison, please sit down," Sophie tells him gently, like she's trying to be all motherly or some other crap that Eliot finds to be entirely too frightening. "This isn't about your computer, and it's more of a… well, we're trying to help you with this, not stop it. Because there is nothing wrong with it, okay? There is nothing wrong with it," Sophie stresses again, trying to make a point. Eliot smirks more. This is going to be so fucking funny.
Hardison's looking at them all suspiciously, and he slowly closes the door behind him and makes his way over to the chair designated for him. "Alright…" he says slowly. "Ya'll lost me. Is this about internet porn? Cause Eliot's got mo—"
"Have you been in my computer?" Eliot asks, accusingly. What the hell? Man can't even jack off without the little perv wanting to know what he's doing it to.
"This isn't about your internet porn, we checked that," Sophie tells him, and Hardison's eyebrows raise.
"You… what now?"
"I like porn," Parker says with a little smile, just trying to put in her two cents. Everyone ignores her. Well, everyone except for Eliot, who's now looking at her like she might actually be part human after all.
"This was Sophie's idea," Nate tells him, just trying to get the blame off of himself. He never wants to be at any of these either. But he bends over backwards for that freaking women more often than not recently. Like the damn tables have turned.
"Well, we found – or rather Parker found, this," Sophie pulls out a magazine from behind her back and shows it too him. Hardison's eyes go wide. "In your sock drawer. And Hardison, we just want you to know, that whatever you're going through, if you're experimenting or curious, we're all with you one hundred percent, and support any decision you come to."
Hardison just keeps staring at her.
"It's okay if you think you might be gay, or bisexual. You know now it's not really that big of a—" But Sophie's cut off now, Hardison finding his voice.
"Alright, first of all, you," he points to Parker, "Are never allowed in my house again. Ever. And second of all, that," he waves his finger dramatically at the offending magazine, "Was for research."
"What the hell kind of research makes you need to look at some guys dick up another guys ass?" Eliot asks.
"Eliot!" Sophie scolds, and hits him with the back of her hand. He growls at her. Just cause he ain't hitting a defenseless girl, doesn't mean he gets to be abused.
"It was for a Doctor/Master slash fic that I— actually, you know what? Ya'll are crazy. Damn psycho with a side of nuts. Ya'll need to get the hell out of my private life," Hardison tells them, anger in his voice now. He gets up and snatches the magazine out of Sophie's hand, and heads towards the door.
"Eliot," Sophie says, and Eliot rolls his eyes. This is the part he always has to do – prevent the person from leaving. So he stands in front of the door, and Hardison stops.
"Just sit the fuck back down, Hardison. Let Sophie have her five minutes of her caring about someone other than herself so she can sleep better at night," Eliot tells him, and Hardison looks at him like he'd like to rip him apart with his bare hands, but knows he could never take him, so he was pretty frustrated over it.
"Hey, that's not why—" Sophie starts, but Parker interrupts.
"I liked the magazine, Hardison," she tells him with a smile. Eliot isn't sure if he wants to know if she's just trying to be helpful, or whether she actually enjoyed it in the manner it's supposed to be taken.
"Jesus Christ," Hardison says, just fed up, and stalks back over to the chair and flops down in it. "Get this over with."
Sophie smiles, happy with her small victory. "Now, we all have some things to say to you. And since I already said what I had to say, Nate, why don't you go first?"
"Me?" Nate asks, who turns back to her from looking out of the window. Eliot's pretty sure he was trying to plan an escape route. "Why me? Have Eliot go first."
"Just do it, Nathan," Sophie tells him sternly, using his full name like that's supposed to have some kind of effect.
Obviously it does. The man has no balls.
Nate sighs and looks down at his card. He coughs kind of awkwardly before starting, "Hardison, if you're gay, that's fine with me." Then silence. Sophie looks annoyed.
"That's all you wrote?"
"All I could think of," Nate tells her, and she makes this frustrated sound before turning to Parker. "Parker, it's your turn."
Why she thought Parker's would be any better, Eliot has no idea.
She picks up her card, peering at it closely, and says in this dead monotonic voice, "Hardison, if you get a boyfriend, I think it would cool." A pause. "Oh, and I want to know if I could ever watch."
Eliot almost choked. Okay, maybe Parker did like the magazine in the way it was intended. Hardison just stares at her like she has five heads.
"Parker!" Sophie scolds. "That… that… okay, none of us wanted to know that."
"You said write something supportive, isn't that supportive?" Parker asks her, and Eliot smirks. Yup, this was definitely the most entertaining intervention ever.
Sophie sighs and waves her hand, "Eliot."
Eliot reads off his card, "I don't give a shit what you do, just don't hit on me and we're square."
"Oh for the love of—" Sophie starts to say, past the point of frustrated herself now.
Hardison just cocked an eyebrow at him. "Cocky bastard, much? Even if I did like guys – which I ain't saying I do – you ain't my type."
"I'm everyone's type," Eliot tells him. Because he is. He so is. I mean, look at him. He's fucking fabulous.
Sophie sighs, "Alright, now that we've all had our say… or whatever the bloody hell that rubbish was supposed to pass as, this is how we're going to help you."
"I don't need any—" Hardison starts to say, but is interrupted.
"We think, well, I think, that you should go to a gay bar. Try out the lifestyle a little, so you can make a more comfortable decision," Sophie tells him. Eliot didn't know about this part, and apparently neither did anyone else, since everyone's looking at her. Sophie always decided the best way to 'help', or whatever the fuck she's trying to look like she's doing.
"I ain't going to no—"
"Eliot will go with you, so you don't have to be alone," Sophie finishes, and Eliot's eyebrows raise.
"What? No! Make Nate go!"
"Eliot, we're being supportive, and Nate frankly should not be anywhere near a bar," Sophie tells him, and Nate looks like he just won the damn lottery with that statement.
"He lives above a fucking bar!" Eliot bursts out, annoyed now. Why the hell does he have to go? It ain't the gay thing, he doesn't care about that. He's secure enough in his sexuality to do all that, but spending time with Hardison? Like outside of work? Hell and no.
"I ain't—" Hardison tries to say again, but he can't ever get a sentence out anymore.
"Yes, you are. Both of you are. Eliot, Hardison is your friend, you need to be supportive and help him on this journey." Eliot thinks the word friend is stretching it a bit far, but fuck it. One night, it won't kill him. Hopefully. And Sophie will shut the fuck up for awhile, which is always a nice bonus.
"Fine, whatever," Eliot says, crossing his arms over his chest. He still doesn't like the plan.
"I don't wanna—"
"Oh, just shut up, Hardison. You're fucking going," Eliot tells him. He ain't dragging this shit out longer than it needs to be.
But with this intervention done, three down, one to go… Eliot already knows he's going to be Sophie's next victim. He has a feeling it'll be about his hair, or something equally as stupid. The girl seriously needs therapy instead of trying to play the therapist.
And he ain't cutting his hair. Ever.
Just for the record.