A/N: This is my first Leverage fanfic! I'm so excited and nervous at the same time, because I'm still trying to find their voices and such. I hope you enjoy!
This is also written for one of my friends in LJ, maychorian, in honor of her birthday. She give prompts as part of her birthday meme, and I answered one of them. The prompt is at the end of this fic.
As usual, this is unbeta-ed. let me know if there are any mistakes!
"What are you doing?" A girlish voice sounded from beside Parker, startling her and almost sending her tumbling into the pond. She turned to see a little girl, all pigtails and pink bows, staring back at her. How this miniature person could catch her unawares was beyond her, but she answered the question anyway.
"I'm just doing nothing."
The girl smiled widely, showing her dimples and her baby teeth. "Oh okay."
Then she sat down on the grass beside Parker, arranging the doll she carried on her lap.
Nonplussed, Parker asked, "And what are you doing?"
"I'm doing nothing here too."
Oh. Parker shrugged.
They sat side by side in silence for fifteen minutes, staring at the reflections playing across the surface of the pond. It was nice.
Parker then heard a shout.
"Amelia! It's time to go!"
"That's my mum. I've got to go." The girl carefully jumped up and brushed some grass off her dress. She looked at Parker, Parker looked at her, and the girl gave her another wide smile and hugged her, little arms clutched tightly around her neck, catching the blonde unawares for the second time in less than half an hour.
Before Parker could return the hug, the girl – Amelia, Parker remembered – straightened up and turned around and ran off. She watched as Amelia made her way to her mother, and waved backed tentatively when both of them waved her goodbye. Parker smiled to herself.
Eliot knew the convertible wouldn't stop in time. From where he was standing, he could see the driver's face, confused and afraid, and his lags were pumping on what Eliot assumed was the brakes, but he must have pressed on the accelerator instead, because the engine revved even more and the vehicle sped up.
He moved without thinking, running towards the old lady who was in the car's way, and he didn't stop when he lifted her up with both hands and carried her over to the other side. From behind he could hear the brakes applying, and from the corner of his eye he could see that red metal killing machine finally stopping.
As gentle as he could, he set the old lady down by the curb. But before he could stomp over to the almost murderer and gave him a piece of his mind and a punch, he felt frail arms hugging his waist, and a muffled teary thank you coming from the vicinity of his back, where the rescued lady was currently pressing her face into.
Eliot paused to lean in for a side-arm hug, a difficult pose but he managed. After about a minute however, he gently removed her to pass to another onlooker, and set again on his mission.
He had a driver to beat up.
Hardison loved his van. It was shinier than the last one that had gotten blown up, and it was more spacious too, perfect for all his computers and wiring and a mini fridge to place all his orange drinks in, for when they had a stakeout. The chairs had cushions, and he had rigged up a mini television to watch his sports during those boring periods of monitoring.
It was his home away from home.
So when his beloved van's paintwork was scratched, the windows broken, the engine damaged, and all the wheels were punctured, he could cry. In fact, he thought that a few tears did escape, along with a whimper that he hoped no one could hear.
Two hours later the tow truck got the van into the garage, and Hardison stood by the side, wringing his hands as he waited for the diagnosis.
Mike the mechanic slid out of the undercarriage and stood up to face him. Hardison held his breath.
"Well, it's going to take a while, and it's going to cost a bit, but I think I can fix it. You can come bac-"
Hardison didn't even wait for Mike to finish before tugging him into a hug, ecstatic that his home could be saved.
"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you…you are a God among mechanics, what would I do without you, thank you…," he squeezed Mike even tighter, and he could hear Mike squeak a little, and he knew he was getting grease on his clothes, but he didn't care.
After a few more moments of hugging, and a few more moments of thanking, and a few more moments of hugging again, Hardison eventually left the garage and hailed a cab back to their HQ. He was going to look at the videos of the parking lot to see who the idiots are who vandalized his van, and he was going to sic Eliot on them.
Hell hath no fury like a hacker scorned.
Nate was tired, and hurting, and he had a headache that was hammering on his skull, and there was no alcohol handy to drown his sorrows in, so he settled on just stretching himself out on the couch, eyes closed but not sleeping, not moving even when the door opened and the whole team trooped in.
"Nate, are you sick?" Sophie was the first to notice him, and she placed a palm on his face. He kept his eyes closed, too tired to reply.
"He doesn't look sick." That was Hardison, contributing his two cents' worth. Nate ignored him too.
"I think he's getting sick." Eliot joined in the conversation. Nate didn't bother to reply to that as well.
"I've never seen Nate sick. Can he be sick?" This time it was Parker, and Nate had about enough. He muttered a groan and lifted his eyelids.
Sophie was sitting by his side, Eliot and Hardison standing at the foot of his body, and Parker was peering from the back of the couch.
"He's sick." Sophie declared, removing her hand from his forehead.
Nate just groaned again, and closed his eyes.
Sophie brought him pills, Eliot grabbed some pillows from his room, and Hardison popped in some music that he swore would make him heal faster. As he was drifting off to sleep, he felt his arm lifting up, and he found himself hugging a fuzzy-feeling thing.
"Someone to sleep with, so that you'll get better faster." Parker whispered in his ear as she arranged his limbs around whatever-it-is. He wanted to protest being tucked in like a child, but his eyelids felt too heavy, and in all actuality, he couldn't be bothered.
He discovered what the fuzzy thing was the next morning, when he saw a picture of him sleeping on the couch with Parker's toy rabbit clutched in his arms.
Sophie was having a bad, no a very bad week. Her favorite pair of Jimmy Choos broke, she found a gray hair during her bath this morning, and now she just had one of the casting directors telling her to go back to acting school for more lessons! The nerve of the guy.
"So I take it you didn't get the part?" Parker asked, coming into the kitchen where Sophie was. The brunette just shook her head.
"Don't be so down man. It's not like you needed the money anyway." Hardison came over to sit by her side. She just shrugged.
"I know, but it's just, I know I'm good, but others don't see it, and it frustrates me. I'm a grifter, I could con directors and ministers, but I couldn't even get a spot in a bloody pet food commercial!"
"Do you even like animals?" Parker asked.
Sophie sighed. "That's not the point, Parker."
By this time, everyone else had entered the kitchen, Eliot going to stand by Parker's side, and Nate unobtrusively standing by the window. Nothing else was said for a while, and Sophie let herself be comforted by the team's presences around her.
The silence was broken when Parker jumped down from the kitchen counter, face alight with glee. "I know! Let's have a group hug!"
"Why?" Eliot asked.
"Because it would make Sophie feel better!"
Hardison shrugged. "Okay."
Within moments Sophie was surrounded by Parker's skinny frame, Hardison's really tall one, along with Eliot's muscled limbs. Even Nate joined in, after an initial hesitation, wrapping his arms from behind her, and Sophie leaned back ever so slightly into his embrace.
Sophie smiled. Her bad week just became more bearable.
Prompt: Five times someone on the team got a hug.
I hope I did the prompt justice. Thanks for reading!