Work Text:
Hardison’s still not entirely sure of the whole...sequence of events that led up to everything.
Sure, in theory, he could track the milestones. He’s even tried to do so, before. But every time he looks back, he can’t quite...connect everything right.
It all seems like one day, everything was normal, the next, it wasn’t. Or, more like...they got a new normal.
One Hardison would give anything to track the actual development of, but, more importantly - one he wouldn’t want to change for the whole world.
The beginning was easy to pinpoint, at least.
Amy had sent a text to the three of them, a little after the brewpub closed for the night. Hardison had been upstairs in the apartment, Parker had been...who knew where actually, as all Hardison knew was that one second he was reading the text, the next Parker was asking him what was up while crawling through the window.
Eliot...Hardison assumed was still in the kitchen in the brewpub. Probably hadn’t seen the text yet.
He’d told Parker he had no idea. The text was vague at best, vaguely troubling at worst.
Meet me downstairs. There’s something you need to see.
Amy wasn’t normally cryptic.
Frowning at first his phone, then back at Parker, Hardison just shook his head and pushed away from his desk to head that way, Parker on his heels.
Admittedly, it took him a little too long to pinpoint exactly what was wrong with the picture downstairs, when they got there.
Amy was at the table, fidgeting with her phone, looking just this side of frazzled. Hardison was about to ask what was wrong when his brain actually...caught up.
Next to her, on the table, was a baby carrier. Nothing special about it - grey plastic, folded blue cover, a bit of a pink blanket hanging over the edge. Absolutely nothing special about it at all - except for, you know, what it was.
“Uh...Amy?”
Amy jumped slightly, blinking at them, before actually jumping to her feet, “Okay, so - there was this lady that came in, sat in the corner, ordered some water and dinner and - I must’ve left for maybe five minutes - maybe ten? - it’s been a slow day, no one else sat at her table-” Her breath caught sharply, and Hardison could see her eyes going watery and bright, right as she took in another deep breath to keep going.
Hardison threw up his hands, quickly hurrying over to Amy’s side to catch her shoulders, “Okay, possible emergency, got it, but you need to calm down, alright? Come on, just breathe for a second.” And while he’s starting to feel the sharp pangs of panic picking at his chest now, as what she says sinks in, he makes himself breathe steady, gives Amy something to focus on while she tries to do the same.
He sees movement out of the corner of his eye, glances over just enough to see Parker warily approaching the table.
Looking back to Amy, he offers a small smile, waits until she shakily returns it before gently pushing her back down into her seat.
Just then, Eliot wanders in from the restaurant, throwing a towel over his shoulder and glancing around curiously, “Hey, just got Amy’s text, what’s going o-” Well, at least Hardison wasn’t the only one who didn’t immediately notice everything.
He shrugs at Eliot with a bit of a helpless expression before turning back to Amy, “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry…” She sighs, scrubbing a hand down her face.
“So, what happened?” Parker asks, from where she’s still just standing there, eyeing the carrier.
Amy bites at her lip, wringing her hands slightly, “This woman came in with the last of the dinner rush. Ordered water, dinner - the spaghetti? I think? - and...and that’s it. Someone else got her checked out, and next thing I knew, her table was empty. We’d slowed down, so we were putting people up closer to the bar, you know? Didn’t even think to check until...until we were closing down. And...there she was.” She waves towards the carrier, like there could be any doubt about who she’s talking about.
Hardison actually looks over though, for the first time since seeing the carrier.
Inside is, of course, a baby. Squishy cheeks, a head full of dark curls, and big brown eyes just watching them all calmly while she gums at the fist she’s resolutely trying to fit in her mouth. She’s adorable, honestly.
“She didn’t fuss or anything? All evening?” Parker asks, her tone going from wary to curious. Well, at least one of them was adjusting well.
Amy shakes her head, “If she did, it wasn’t for long, and we didn’t hear her. She was tucked in that back corner table, farthest from the bar. The woman...insisted on it, actually…” Amy groans and drops her head into her hands as things start connecting.
“Was there anything on the booth beside her?” Eliot asks and holy hell when did he move to stand beside Parker? Hardison doesn’t quite jump, but the urge is definitely there.
Eliot doesn’t really wait for an answer though, pulling the carrier over and working about getting her unbuckled, “Hey there sweetie,” he murmurs, touch gentle and easy, and if Hardison didn’t know better, he’d say Eliot’s probably handled a baby before.
...Wait. Did he know better? He thought back for a second. Eliot had never mentioned it…
Sure, he’d handled Charlie pretty well, the little four year old they’d found last year on a bust - kept him calm until they could get him back to his aunt. Kid had been absolutely in love with Eliot within five minutes.
But, still. Toddler versus baby. Big difference.
Shaking his head, he tuned back in, just as Eliot got the baby free of the carrier and pulled her close. She gurgled up at him happily, big smile in place, and seemingly content with the handful of strangers staring at her.
“What’s this?” Parker asks, reaching into the carrier, pulling out an envelope. It’s blank, as far as Hardison can tell, and Parker pulls out a single sheet of paper, unfolding it and frowning slightly as she reads.
“We have a mutual friend who said you might be the best option I have. Her name’s Morgan, and she’s six months old, born March 13th. I can’t be there for her, and our friend said you’d be able to do right by her, whatever that ends up being. Please help. I’m sorry.” Parker reads out loud.
It’s quiet after that - outside of the baby’s...Morgan’s happy gurgling - all of them kind of just...looking at each other.
“...Okay.” Eliot pauses, glancing back down at the baby in his arms for a long moment, “Okay, so. It’s way too late to figure this all out right now. Parker, can you run to the store and get...I’ll get you a list. We’ll get her settled for the night, and figure this out in the morning.”
Hardison raises an eyebrow, “Take it you’re staying the night then?” He asks, mostly just to help break the mood, and, hey, the corners of Eliot’s mouth tick up just barely, so he’s going to count that as a win.
“No shit, Hardison,” he grumbles, shifting Morgan to one arm so he can write out a list for Parker on the paper she’s produced from...nowhere.
Hardison gets a quick look at it before she disappears out the door - diapers, wipes, formula, another blanket. “Since when do you know how to take care of a baby?”
“I don’t,” Eliot says, easily. “But I know a rough outline of the basics. Hell, you probably know more than I do, think we need anything else for the night?” He asks, and Hardison blinks at him for a moment. He tended to forget exactly how much about his time at Nana’s he’s told the two of them, and exactly how much they’d retained. Sure, his experience with babies was limited to babysitting some of the younger foster kids that zipped through Nana’s every once in a blue moon - babies tended to get adopted pretty quick if given the chance, and even if they didn’t, Nana was better equipped for long-term care of older kids.
“...Uh. Nah, that should be good. We’re good now Amy, if you wanna go home.” Amy startles from where she’d been leaned over, head still in her hands.
“You sure?” She asks, standing, eyeing Eliot and Morgan.
“Yeah, we got it. Thank you,” Hardison says, genuinely, giving her a smile and relaxing slightly when she returns it, albeit a little more watery than he’d like. “Go get some rest. You look like you need it.” And Amy snorts at him, lightly shoving his shoulder and heading out.
“...Think the mom’ll be on the cameras?” Eliot asks, after a long moment, breaking the quiet that had settled back in around them. Hardison pauses, thinking for a moment.
“Maybe?” He slips over to the computer by the wall monitors, flicking through to the one pointed at the corner Amy described. It takes a couple of minutes to find the right time, but when he does…
“Well. She’s there. But doesn’t look like she ever shows her face.” They really needed to get another camera set up. Hardison had been meaning to - had noticed the blind spot right by the door awhile ago, but had never really...gotten around to it. Most of their security was focused on the door to their headquarters, the ones in the restaurant meant more to catch people who thought dine and dash was a cool idea. And...it took some pretty active trying to avoid all their cameras as it was. Unless someone was trying.
Sure, the letter suggested that this woman, whoever she was, had thought about this for at least a little while but…it was still kind of weird to see it actually play out.
He watches the woman on the video for a moment. There’s nothing that really...stands out about her. Curly dark hair pulled up into a tail, big sunglasses that he can only see the edges of the frames of, sundress, and no identifying marks whatsoever. He sees her come in with the carrier and, half an hour later, leave without it. And, like Amy said, no one else so much as went by that booth again until they were closing up.
“...Looks like she either knew before coming in where the cameras were, or she clocked ‘em pretty quick.” Eliot says from right beside him and Hardison squawks, jumping away slightly, before glaring. Eliot pretends not to notice.
“You’re picking up too much from Parker.”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Eliot says with a shrug, not bothering to hide the smirk, even as he looks back down at Morgan. Hardison follows his gaze, sighing softly.
“...So, not figuring it out until tomorrow, huh?” He asks, softly, the mood shifting as both of them try and settle into the idea.
“I think so, yeah...we got a couple options, but this whole thing is just...a bit of a mess.” Hardison snorts out something that’s supposed to be a laugh, and Eliot just rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, understatement of the century. We’ll get her set up in the guest room,” and Hardison has to physically bite his tongue at that to keep quiet, “and when we’re all awake again, we’ll run through the options.”
Guest bedroom. Eliot’s bedroom. He’d never admit it though, all of them still just so...awkward, around the idea. What idea, Hardison’s not entirely sure - Eliot being comfortable in what he saw as Hardison and Parker’s space? Eliot actually making a home here, with them? Mentally, Hardison shakes his head. Not the time to be dealing with...that.
Hardison just nods, a moment too late, but he is saved by the bell as Parker slides though with a bulging bag in hand.
“So, got the diapers and all of that, same with the formula - but I didn’t know which blankets would work better so I just...grabbed a bunch?” She offers, holding up what Hardison can now see is two bags - one clearly filled with a box of diapers and cans of formula and bottles, while the other looks like it’s about to burst with fabric.
Eliot laughs softly, gently moving Morgan to one arm again and heading over to pick through what Parker got, “We’ll see which one she likes best and go with that.” He offers, and Parker relaxes a little, smiling sheepishly.
After that...it was a bit of a whirlwind. Eliot takes over getting Morgan fed and changed while Parker and Hardison try to set up something resembling a comfortable bed in the guest - Eliot’s - bedroom. He hasn’t said as much, but Hardison is pretty sure Eliot plans on staying up all night with her, so they focus on just making sure she has a comfortable spot to be. By the time they are done and wander back downstairs, Morgan is sleeping in Eliot’s arms, and Eliot is trying to clean up with his one free hand.
Rolling her eyes, Parker shooes him away and up the stairs so her and Hardison could finish cleaning up.
The night after that is...quiet.
Hardison doesn’t know what he expects, but it certainly isn’t that.
Him and Parker kept their door open when they turned in, but for a little while, all they heard was a bit of gurgling as Morgan woke up for a brief moment before everything was quiet again.
It was...disconcerting.
And if asked, that’s what Hardison would use as an excuse for why, four hours later, he was still awake and staring at the open door, Parker breathing soft and deep behind him.
He knew she wasn’t asleep. Had known when she’d woken up half an hour ago. What he didn’t know was whether or not she was just going to leave him be - which, sometimes, he just needed the quiet and the dark to think, so, you know, he wouldn’t blame her if she did - or if she was actually going to say anything.
“...So, which part are you freaking out about?” Her soft voice breaks the quiet a couple minutes later, finally giving Hardison something else to focus on for a moment.
“I dunno. Pretty sure the whole...baby situation is. Kinda worth a freak out on it’s own.”
He hears Parker shifting behind him, feels her arm wrapping around his waist a moment later. “Well, yeah. But we’ve taken in kids before.”
There’d been Charlie of course. But there’d also been Jessie, the kid who looked way too much like Parker (it was in the eyes, Hardison had thought at the time) who hadn’t trusted them as far as she could throw them at first, who they’d had to take to Nana’s eventually. They needed to call up that way soon, see how she was doing. There had also been Marlon - sixteen years old and living in a beat up old van, just trying to get through school. They’d set him up with Toby, and last they’d heard, he was doing fantastic.
But all of them...all of them had been kids. And they’d had a reason for them to step in. A baby just showing up on their doorstep? A little different. Hardison can’t quite figure out how, but it is.
“Or is this about Eliot?”
Hardison groans and buries his face in the pillow. He feels...well, he feels ridiculous.
They have a baby to worry about. Now is not the time for his bi-weekly freak out about Eliot.
He hears Parker snort out a laugh - soft, understanding - and press a kiss to the curve of his shoulder.
“We talked about this…” She murmurs, and Hardison hears the disappointment lacing her tone. Knows exactly what she means.
“I know. I know, ‘s just…” It’s just...well. It’s just a lot of things.
When Nate and Sophie had ‘retired’ two years ago (what a load of absolute bull. They’ve already run into them four times on jobs. Four. Times.) both him and Parker have been expecting Eliot to kind of just...jump. With them. Into this thing.
Which, to be fair - he did. In a way. They figured out how they were going to start approaching Leverage International, settled into a new rhythm with the three of them, and frankly, they’d been floating on cloud nine for the last year now.
Him and Parker were closer than ever, every job they did had gone wonderfully - the only hiccups being minor and helping them prepare better for the next job - the brewpub was still going strong. Eliot was with them every day, working in the kitchen or helping plan the next job or training, or hanging out for the night or...or...
And it was still him and Parker. And them and Eliot.
And Eliot just...tiptoed around them. Made them dinner and then left for the night. If they pushed, he’d stay in the guest room. They could go days, waking up to the sounds of him in the kitchen, making breakfast, mornings spent being quiet and muzzy around the edges together.
They could go weeks, with the three of them crowding out the kitchen to make dinner, everything loud and bright and...and wonderful.
And Eliot would still, eventually, go home.
They’d done everything just shy of straight up asking him at this point, to stay. To actually stay, with them. In whatever way he’d take them.
Wait, no, scratch that. They had asked. Maybe it was a little...oblique, but they had asked, last Christmas. Hardison didn’t know if they hadn’t been clear enough, or if Eliot had just. Sailed over it. To avoid it all together.
They knew each other. Better than anyone. And yet, in this? Hardison couldn’t read Eliot for shit. And since Parker tended to get just as frustrated, if not more, with the whole situation, Hardison knew she couldn’t either. And it was driving her nuts.
“It’s just a pain. But we’re working on it.” Parker murmurs, bringing him back to the moment. He grumbles, but turns in her grip to bury his face in her neck, wrapping his arms loosely around her. Parker laughs at him - little more than a stuttering of soft breath - but moves her arms up to around his shoulders. “Sleep now, worry tomorrow?” She asks around a yawn.
“Sleep now, worry tomorrow,” he agrees, fighting back a yawn of his own.
Hardison wakes to the smell of batter cooking, and an empty bed.
Smiling sleepily, he takes a moment to just...enjoy the morning. Now that he’s actually awake, he can hear the clatter of cutlery, as well as what sounds like Parker baby-talking to a happily cooing Morgan.
It’s such a weird mix of normal and not that his brain kind of just...shorts, and all that’s left is the ability to enjoy it.
A few minutes later, he rolls out of bed and heads for the kitchen.
Sure enough, Eliot’s making pancakes, and Parker has Morgan sat up on the counter, one hand holding her steady, the other...tickling her? Making grabby hands? He couldn’t tell. Either way, Morgan seems enthralled.
Eliot’s at the stove, hair a mess, even though it looks like he attempted to push it back into some semblance of order, and Parker’s still in Hardison’s shirt and her pajama shorts, and the entire scene is just…
...It’s a lot.
Shaking his head before he can start getting too emotional about something so ridiculous, he scrubs a hand down his face and heads around the bar to the coffee maker, stopping long enough to drop a kiss to Parker’s shoulder and give a smile to Morgan on his way past. He claps Eliot on the shoulder as well, murmuring out what he’s pretty sure is a ‘good morning’. Whatever. He tried.
Eliot grins at him, shaking his head.
“Coffee’s already ready. Don’t burn yourself.”
“Ha, ha, you know, you’re almost funny sometimes,” Hardison mutters, even if mentally, he’s cheering. Fiddling with all those buttons on their way too fancy coffee maker in the morning is just. A recipe for disaster.
He pours himself a cup, and then one for Eliot, which he places by the stove so he can reach it before leaning back against the counter to nurse his own much needed caffeine drip.
“So, things quiet last night?” Hardison asks, even he more or less knows the answer. The bags under Eliot’s eyes are obvious, now that Hardison’s actually looking at him, but he doesn’t look grumpy, like he normally does when he doesn’t get his usual four hours at least. It’s a weird mix.
“Oh, yeah, she conked out and stayed out until like...five. We’ve been up since then.”
“Uh-huh. You sleep at all?” Hardison asks, not even trying for subtle. Eliot shoots him a Look, and Hardison just shrugs.
“...Yeah, a little bit.” Eliot says with a shrug, turning back to the stove top.
“Uh-huh.” Well, it was something at least. He glances over to Morgan and Parker. Parker seems to have discovered that playing a one-handed game of peekaboo was a good way to get Morgan to gurgle and laugh excitedly.
“So…”
“So.” Eliot mimics.
“So.” Parker says as well, glancing up, both hands curling around Morgan to keep her stable on the counter.
Hardison huffs at both of them, rolling his eyes when they both just grin.
“You’re both hysterical. What’re we going to do?”
“Well, first things first, we should probably try and find her mother. Or at least...figure out why she dropped her here. Try and find the mutual friend she mentioned, see if they know anything…”
Hardison frowns slightly, eyeing Eliot. Eliot just shrugs a shoulder, “If she’s in danger, we should probably figure that out before she gets handed to a kindly foster couple, right?” Ah. Yeah, no that made sense, Hardison nods along.
“Until then...well, we don’t have any jobs lined up, do we?” Eliot asks, glancing at Parker. Parker thinks for a moment, likely mentally flicking through the stack of files she has on the back burner.
“No - we had one, but I’m thinking Mikel’s team can take it.”
“So, maybe we set the guest room up a bit better for a baby, and start looking. Once we figure out what’s going on, we go from there?” Hardison shares a look with Parker over the rim of his mug but says nothing. When Eliot looks back up, he plasters on a smile.
“Yeah man, sounds like a plan.” Personal feelings aside, it is actually a good plan.
Hell, before they’d been able to take Charlie to his aunt, they’d needed to make sure everyone involved in the bust was on their way to a cell, and that had been much more cut and dry than this. Only made sense to try and get more information before accidentally dropping a mess on some unsuspecting regular folk.
“Okay then. After breakfast, Parker and I’ll go shopping - don’t give me that look Hardison, I am not setting you loose in a store with a crap ton of new gadgets,” Hardison huffed, “And you can watch Morgan for a bit. Maybe see if you can get anything we missed in yesterday’s footage?” Eliot glances between him and Parker for confirmation.
And well, that’s that.
Two hours later, after breakfast and after cleaning up, Hardison finds himself alone with Morgan, Parker and Eliot out the door and promising to be quick.
Hardison...doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.
Sure, Morgan’s been easy, so far. Incredibly so, actually. What Hardison remembers of his really little foster sibs was...not like this.
For now, Morgan’s plopped on a blanket in the living room, while Hardison sits cross-legged on the floor next to her, just watching this strange little human take in her surroundings.
She doesn’t seem quite confident enough to start crawling around wildly, but she is able to sit up and play with things right in front of her. Hardison found some old bits and bobs, nothing sharp or dirty or anything, but they were...sorely lacking in baby appropriate toys, so he’d had to make due. Morgan didn’t seem to mind at least.
Grab some toys while you’re out. He texts Eliot, pretty sure it was already on the man’s list but...just in case.
He doesn’t get a text in response, but he does get a picture. Half of Eliot’s face, while Parker’s a running blur behind him. They’re in the toy aisle. Hardison snorts out a laugh, glancing at Morgan, “Think you’re gonna have plenty of stuff by the time they come back.” Morgan blinks at him, all doe-eyed and uncomprehending before turning back to the length of rope Parker’d cut from one of her rigs.
Alrighty then.
“Alright…let’s see what we can find, huh?” Hardison asks, stretching out his legs and dragging over his laptop to get started on their search. He didn’t expect much - her mother had been good about keeping her face out of view, but...still. Had to start somewhere.
By the time Eliot and Parker get back, Morgan’s in his lap, absolutely enthralled by the screen of his laptop and tapping away at the keys with delighted little giggles that Hardison can’t bring himself to stop. He’d locked the keyboard anyway, so it was fine.
Parker and Eliot kinda just blink at him when they actually notice what’s going on, and all he can really do is wave. Parker laughs at the two of them, slipping away to start getting things put away, but Eliot’s watching him with a...weird expression. Hardison would call it fond, but there’s something else there that he can’t...quite place. And Eliot’s gone before he can ask about it either.
From there, the day is taken up getting Morgan’s room set up - and Hardison just about hits Eliot with a pillow when he says that easily enough (he ends up not having to, because Parker wings one at him instead, which confuses the ever loving hell out of him apparently) - and trying to find room for everything the two of them bought.
By dinner, they’ve got a crib set up, a collapsible dresser for the clothes they’d gotten, a changing table, a cabinet full of baby food and formula, and a living room full of toys.
Hardison’s pretty sure there was some plan to continue working on their search - but that all gets derailed somewhere between Morgan discovering her new toys and the three of them discovering that, though Morgan had been pretty content to sit still for the first hours they’ve known her, she was in no way restricted to one spot. Unfortunately.
The rest of the night went to babyproofing literally every part of the apartment they could think of.
The days after that are...weird.
To put it plainly.
They settle into a rhythm pretty quickly though, so, Hardison supposes it could be worse.
Eliot takes to sleeping on the couch, because, as they discovered the second night in, if someone’s in the same room as Morgan, she’ll fight to stay awake, just to keep playing. Stubborn little thing.
There’s a monitor set up in Hardison and Parker’s room, and one in the living room, and at this point, it’s whoever hears her first is who gets the honor of going to see what’s wrong in the middle of the night. After the fourth day, they even manage to get it down to only one of them jumping to attention at every little sound.
Mornings are early things - earlier than their normal, even - but it normally involves Eliot, or, whoever got up with Morgan last, making breakfast, and coffee always being ready, so none of them are really complaining about that.
From there, Morgan’s plopped with whoever was planning on staying around the apartment that day, while the other two run off - Eliot to the brewpub kitchen or to hunt down his leads, Parker out to track hers, or Hardison ending up in his office, digging through every lead he can find, as well as compiling details and files for a handful of teams that don’t have their own hacker on board yet.
It’s...well, it’s not easy. Morgan’s an easy baby, sure, but she’s still a baby.
She doesn’t like squash. Doesn’t like two very specific blankets that they’d gotten her. Doesn’t like being ignored. Doesn’t want to be held at that specific time, but doesn’t want to be on the floor either. Wanted Parker, not Eliot. Wanted Hardison, not Parker. Wanted no one, but doesn’t want to be left alone either.
It’s a...learning curve. For all of them.
And then, about a week and a half in, when it looked like their leads were drying up, and Morgan had spent the night being fussy enough to require both Parker and Eliot to be up pretty much every hour on the hour, and none of them had really gotten a full night of sleep in a week…
Well, they found out she was teething.
And that shit hurt.
Hardison had been the one to figure it out, at four in the morning, when he’d come to see what was going on an hour after Parker had left their bed. He’d found a crying Morgan and a tired Parker sitting on the edge of the bed, looking confused and worried. Eliot was sitting next to her, dragging a hand through his hair, a bottle forgotten on the bedside table, untouched.
“I just...don’t know what’s wrong. She doesn’t sound sick, she’s a little warm, but nothing too high, we changed her, tried to feed her…” Parker looks up, eyes red and watery and Hardison’s heart just about breaks.
Gently, he scoops the squirming Morgan out of Parker’s arms, and his heart does break then, because there’s big fat crocodile tears falling from her eyes, and her screaming is scratchier and higher pitched - which, considering he hasn’t heard a break from it in awhile, makes sense - and she barely has the energy to really wriggle or squirm beyond just making her discomfort known.
He gently rubs her cheek, cooing softly and rocking her close, “What’s wrong, huh? What’s going on with you?” He asks, more to himself, before she basically bites at his finger, and all he can really do is blink. Huh. Oh. Well, that would do it, wouldn’t it?
“Hey, where’d we put those wash cloths?” He asks, heading towards the cabinet by the changing table when Eliot motions that way. He grabs two before heading for the bathroom, dunking the edge of one under the cold water for a moment before pulling it up to Morgan’s mouth, using the damp, cool edge to gently rub at her gums. Morgan’s not entirely happy with the sensation at first, tears still bubbling over, but she does quiet down enough for Hardison to keep at it, cooing and murmuring softly as he does.
When Morgan grabs at the cloth herself to keep it where it is, he lets go long enough to soak the other and head out to the kitchen to get it into the fridge for a bit. They’ll need to actually get some teething rings they can put in the freezer tomorrow, but for now, this seemed to be working.
When he looks up again, he sees both Parker and Eliot watching him. Parker looks relieved and a little winded, but she’s smiling again, while Eliot looks...well, no, he still hasn’t figured out what that look means. Fond and something else…
“So. Pretty sure she’s teething,” Hardison offers sheepishly.
And Eliot and Parker just laugh, and all Hardison can really do is laugh with them at that point.
Things more or less settle down after that. They get Morgan some teething rings, as well as some over the counter remedies that Nana recommended (after a very long winded, and well deserved, rant about how they should’ve called her immediately).
They don’t really talk about it, but none of their leads are panning out, and, as they dry up, there’s less...get up and go. It’s not that odd for two of them, if not all three, to be in the apartment with Morgan after awhile. Which, Morgan’s all for, enjoying crawling through the apartment to find whoever it is she’s decided is her favorite of the hour, and enjoying even more her new favorite game of hide and seek. Hardison’s pretty sure that, at six months, she doesn’t quite get the rules. But she seems to have the hiding part down pat, much to her delight, and their horror.
(Nana just laughed him off the phone when he’d complained about that to her, in a second call.)
They’re three weeks into this whole thing, and Hardison’s on the couch, Morgan carefully settled on his chest where she decided to conk out for a nap, and Hardison hasn’t the heart to move her. Eliot’s in the kitchen making lunch, and Parker’s working on her rigging on the recliner.
It’s...quite. Soft. In a way things almost never are.
And Hardion almost doesn’t want to breathe - doesn’t want to wake Morgan up, doesn’t want to distract Parker, doesn’t want to get Eliot’s attention and have him realize he’s been here for three weeks straight. (Right where he should be.)
Hardison just breathes in, once, savoring this moment as his eyes slip closed, only to wince slightly when Parker speaks up.
“So. We going to talk about all of this?” Parker asks, voice low enough to not disturb Morgan, but certainly loud enough to get Eliot’s attention, glancing up from her rigging. She pointedly ignores Hardison’s glare.
“Hm?” Eliot calls out. Hardison does his best to contort to look over the arm of the couch without moving Morgan. Eliot’s heading their way, three plates in hand, which he sets on the coffee table before sitting at Hardison’s feet.
“...This.” Parker says, motioning to...all of them.
Eliot raises an eyebrow. “Which part? The one where apparently all of our friends are better at keeping secrets than we thought, since no one knows a damn thing about a woman and a baby sent our way, or the fact that there’s a baby currently sleeping comfortably on Hardison, and we’ve all kind of just accepted that?”
Well. Pretty fair sum up, really.
Parker doesn’t look as impressed as Hardison feels. “So...what’re we going to do?” And she sounds...disappointed. And Hardison knows that tone, knows it way too well.
Hardison reaches up to curl his hand around Morgan’s back, hand spreading almost entirely over her, and he catches Eliot watching out of the corner of his eyes with that damned unreadable look again.
“...Well...we still don’t know what’s going on with her. Just because it’s been quiet for the past couple of weeks doesn’t mean she’s free and clear…” Eliot mutters, dragging a hand down his face.
“...People don’t normally come to us for easy problems you know. If whoever it was recommended us...they had to have a reason?” Hardison offers, some tiny thought starting to bloom in the hollow of his chest, holding on tight to his heart.
“Yeah. We can make people disappear pretty damn well.” Parker says, calmly, collected, and if Hardison didn’t know her so well, he’d almost buy it too.
“If she’d wanted that, she could’ve dropped her off at any fire station or church in the surrounding five miles. Ripped up that letter that had her name, and she would’ve been untraceable, outside of DNA.” Eliot points out. “And a healthy little girl like her? Would’ve been adopted in a heart beat.”
And Parker has to nod at that, because the man makes a good point. They are good at making people disappear if needed sure, even at creating people out of thin air, but honestly? A baby on a doorstep is about as anonymous as you could get.
They’re all quiet for a long moment, just eyeing each other, before Hardison can get the courage to ask what needs to be asked, “So, are we considering what I think we’re considering?” And it looks like Parker wants to say no, immediately, before she stops herself.
“...Maybe?” She says, softly, unsure, instead.
“Can you?” Eliot asks after another long moment. “Can you take on a baby, with this job? With what we do?”
And Hardison scowls slightly, glancing at Parker before huffing softly. “One second…” he gently scoops Morgan up, murmuring softly when she fusses at the disturbance, leaving a very confused-looking Eliot behind him as he heads down the hall to put Morgan in her crib for the rest of her nap.
He watches her, just breathing softly after she settles down again, for a long moment, feeling that thought again, somewhere in his chest, twisting at his heart, before he gently shuts the door behind him and heads back to the living room. He drops down next to a still confused looking Eliot.
“Okay, before we get any farther in this crazy discussion, let’s make something clear. If we do this, it’s all of us doing this. Not just me and Parker. Us.” Eliot blinks at him, something flashing across his face and gone before Hardison can put a name to it. “Got it?” And Eliot just nods.
“Okay, good. So, can we do this with this job?” Hardison asks, looking to Parker. Who looks like she’s trying not to laugh at them. She schools her face when Eliot looks over though.
“I mean...the international teams are up and running. We’ve been taking fewer jobs, overall. We’d have to find someone who can watch her, while we’re gone? We’d need to get better covers too, for us and for her…not to mention actually. You know. Getting her taken care of. For the next eighteen years. At least. Assuming someone doesn’t come looking for her.”
And while Hardison’s heart is ready to go ‘yes, yes, yes,’ he makes himself stop. Makes himself think.
Him and Parker had talked about having a family, one day. Not in the traditional sense - not for them - but...still. A family. Maybe adopting a kid or two. It had always hinged on getting Eliot to finally tell them where they stood though, before any kind of...life changing decisions happened. And all of that was years out. When they started getting tired of their work, or when they’d passed off enough of it that they had the time to really dedicate to raising kids, and to each other.
This? This would move that whole time table up by more than a few years, and stretch it out longer than they’d planned.
Were they ready for that?
And some, small part of his brain wants to say that, honestly? No. No, they’re not.
But the other part...the other part’s reminding him of a week ago, when the apartment had been quiet, Hardison hadn’t heard from either Eliot or Parker for an hour, and he hadn’t seen Morgan in longer. When he’d gone looking, he’d found Eliot stretched out on the bed in Morgan’s room, Morgan beside him happily playing with the foam blocks they’d gotten, and Eliot just...watching her with a smile Hardison had never seen before.
Reminding him of, three days ago, when they’d discovered that, on top of squash, Morgan didn’t particularly like peas either, as she’d let them know by flinging a pretty good sized glob of the puree at Parker where she was trying to feed her. Parker had kind of just blinked, laughing and setting about cleaning up, before settling back in to find a flavor Morgan did like, cooing and making airplane noises with each new spoonful.
Reminding him of two nights ago, when Morgan had been screaming and crying, and Hardison had been the first to get to her, though not for lack of trying on Eliot and Parker’s part.
They’d all ended up sitting around the kitchen table, tired and out of it, while Morgan gummed at a teething ring, suddenly as content as could be at four in the morning.
Yeah, maybe they weren’t really ready.
But they could be.
And it’d be worth it to try.
And, looking around at the other two, he can see in their faces that they’ve come to the same conclusion.
“...Well, looks like that’s that.” Hardison says, and that thought that had been blooming in his chest lights him up from the inside out, and Hardison knows his grin is too big and goofy, but since the three of them are hugging and smiling and laughing a moment later, he figures it’s fine.
That’s not that.
Hardison calls up Nana the next day to give her the news.
He leaves that conversation bewildered and holding two notes. One’s a checklist of things to do in the next couple of days (namely, doctor’s visit, which he’s gonna get set up as soon as he finishes their covers and gets Morgan in every system needed to make the trip legal). The other has a reminder to visit. Underlined. In red.
Right.
Eliot lasts another week.
Another week of tiptoeing around, but, pointedly, not going home either.
Hardison’s kind of impressed.
He waits until the three of them are cleaning up after dinner. Morgan’s still happily mashing around food in her seat. They’ll clean her up after they clean up the kitchen.
He’s got dishes soaking, and all he’s doing is staring at the water, Hardison and Parker moving around behind him to get everything put away before he speaks up.
“What’re we doing?” He asks, voice low and rough. Hardison pauses where he’s putting away the pots and pans, glancing over. Well, glad he finally asked. Hardison had been watching Eliot’s shoulders take up residence around his ears for the last couple of days, and, if Eliot didn’t break soon, him or Parker might’ve.
“Cleaning?” Parker chirps.
Eliot glares at her, with absolutely no heat. “Not what I meant Parker.”
“Well, yeah. But you didn’t actually ask what you meant so…” Parker shrugs. Eliot looks to Hardison with an expression of ‘really?’ but Hardison just shrugs. Parker has a point.
Eliot groans, dragging a hand down his face before turning to lean back against the counter, eyeing the two of them with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I haven’t been home in a month. You two get weird every time I say ‘guest room’. We're apparently, now taking care of a baby. Together. In fact, you insisted on that last part. So. What are we doing?” And he looks so...confused and a touch lost, and Hardison feels kind of bad about that.
Sighing softly, he slips over to lean beside him against the counter, gently bumping shoulders with him. “Depends, man.”
“On?” Eliot asks, almost warily, even as he leans into Hardison’s shoulder.
“You.” Parker chimes in, stepping up in front of them.
And Eliot still just looks confused.
“We tried to ask last Christmas man. But we couldn’t tell if...it actually stuck. And we didn’t want to push or anything like that, but…” Eliot’s face scrunches up slightly, glancing between him and Parker.
“Last Christmas?” He asks, clearly taking a moment to call back before his eyes sharpen on them. “Are you kidding me?”
Now it’s Hardison and Parker’s turn to be confused.
And Eliot...Eliot just laughs, dragging his hands down his face again.
“Okay, first off, Parker, you were tipsy. Hardison, you were drunk. Second, I don’t know what you remember asking, but what I remember is being asked if I wanted to stay under the mistletoe forever, and then if I wanted to stay the night. I’m also pretty sure Mulan was quoted at some point. It was all very cute, very sweet, and very...normal.”
And, okay, Eliot had a point, even if he is laughing at them now. But… “Man, if that was normal, what does that mean, you think?” Hardison asks. And Eliot goes still as that sinks in.
He glances between the two of them again for a long moment. “...Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Hardison mimics, biting back a grin. Parker’s not even trying to hide hers. “So, now that we’re not drunk, you want to stay the night?”
And Eliot waits a beat, clearly trying to get his words together.
“Do you want to stay forever?” Parker chimes in.
And all the three of them can do is laugh.
They do get an actual ‘yes’ out of him, later, when Morgan starts crying for attention. She’s absolutely caked in mush that had at one point been sweet potato, and she doesn’t seem too fond of all the laughing in the kitchen and away from her.
Eliot even goes one step farther by darting into press a kiss to Hardison’s temple, and one to Parker’s cheek before the two of them can react, before going to scoop up Morgan with a laugh.
So, yeah, Hardison’s not entirely sure of everything that led up to this point - where all of his favorite people are curled up on the couch together, watching some cartoon that has Morgan absolutely enraptured, from where she is in Parker’s lap.
Eliot’s got one hand stretched around the back of the couch, over Parker’s shoulders to clasp at Hardison’s shoulder, and Hardison is settled against Parker’s side, and soon enough the three of them will be putting Morgan to bed and crawling into bed. Likely to be woken up at two in the morning by a bored baby.
Hardison’s not sure how it all happened. But he wouldn’t change it for the whole damn world.