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Even after years of Alec's stories and having been part of the crew for months now, Breanna was still figuring things out. Some were more apparent than others, such as Sophie- the first few cons they worked together had given Breanna a pretty good idea of how the woman ticked. At least she thought so.
It was furthermore obvious how close Sophie and Parker were; theirs was a mother-daughter relationship rather than a sibling one in Breanna's opinion. Not that she was jealous or anything; she just thought that it must be nice to have that with someone, especially in addition to also being in a committed romantic relationship with someone as awesome as her brother. Well. And Eliot, from the looks of it. Who was awesome in his own right and much less intimidating than he'd like to make people believe, and there was definitely something going on with him and Parker.
Breanna was 99.3 % sure that she wasn't imagining things. Meaning she had noticed how Eliot and Parker were sleeping in the same room, together, every night. Which would be alarming on Alec's behalf if they didn't also do that on the rare occasions the latter was home. So either they had a weird kind of bunk bed situation going on, or they were in a three-way relationship.
Breanna strongly suspected it was the latter, making her wonder whether she should feel offended that Alec didn't tell her about it. To be fair, she didn't tell him about her own love life either (not that there was much to talk about). In any case, the Parker x Hardison x Eliot theory seemed to be further corroborated by a myriad of little things- people like Harry probably were oblivious about it, but Breanna tended to observe stuff.
She noticed how those two always checked in with each other; how they sometimes had whole conversations without saying a single word; how Eliot always seemed to be aware where Parker was, even when none of the others had spotted her yet, for example when she was climbing around in the rafters, and that Parker and Eliot both used to get into each other's personal space a lot.
There were no other public displays of affection where those two were concerned, but to Breanna, it seemed strangely intimate, sweet even, how Parker would casually lean against Eliot sometimes while they were planning a con, or how Eliot would invariably choose to sit next to Parker on the old couch upstairs when they were all winding down after a job.
Occasionally, Breanna overheard Parker calling Eliot “Sparky” or, once, “Bear”, and Eliot didn't seem to mind (Breanna was still waiting for an opportunity to dare Harry to do the same; it probably wasn't going to go down as well), on the contrary: it made his expression soften in a way that was rare for him.
So yeah, they seemed to have a serious thing going on, and for some reason, it was making Breanna feel pleased for them. Alec had told her a little about Parker's childhood; she hadn't been so lucky to end up at a place like Nana's, and from what Breanna gathered, she was still dealing with some of the old stuff these days. Breanna was glad that she found someone like Alec, who was kind and wickedly clever and too sweet for his own good.
And then there was Eliot, who was still kinda being haunted by his past and who didn't smile easily, but when he did, it felt like seeing the sun after days of rain. He was quiet and often grumpy, but Breanna could relate to Parker calling him “Bear”. Despite his scowly disposition, there was something about him that was soft and pliable, resulting in her wanting to hug him all the time (which she didn't, no matter how tempting it was). He could pack a mean punch, that much was clear, but he was also gentle and caring, and that made him look haunted sometimes, when he thought that no one was watching him.
Breanna did though. For one, she had cameras everywhere, for security reasons. Yeah, okay, and also because she was nosy, but she kept telling herself that it was another good way to get to know people better (she didn't have cameras in the bedrooms or the bath or anything; after all, there was a certain etiquette to be followed).
Which was why she knew that Eliot sometimes got up at night and spent some time in the kitchen. He never made much noise when he did that, and he didn't cook. He baked.
Breanna, who often was up playing games till late, watched him coming in, his whole body tense, his face... distraught, shut. Which was why she kept watching; the first time, she was afraid he might do something stupid, maybe something that involved one of those big scary knives of his, but to her surprise, he didn't. He just stood in front of the fridge for a moment, visibly collecting himself, before he opened it and began to take out stuff.
Subsequently, the tension in him slowly dissolved as he separated egg whites from the yolk, mixed ingredients, stirred the batter; it was strangely enthralling. Eliot was always concentrated, moving with calm purpose, and after a while, his expression lost that dejected look and turned into something relaxed.
On the screen, Eliot had just pulled a baking tray out of the oven, then he disappeared from view. In order not to draw his attention to the camera, Breanna refrained from moving the lense to see what he was doing now. She glanced at her other screen: maybe she'd still squeeze in another half an hour of gaming before turning in.
“Wanna try some fresh walnut bread?”
Breanna jumped: “Jeez!” she then said, running a hand over her face. “You always sneak up on people like that?”
“Weren't you watching me?”
Touché.
“Kinda,” Breanna said lamely. “Sorry?”
Eliot regarded her with an inscrutable impression, but then he motioned for her to follow him: “C'mon.”
The scent of freshly baked bread was heavenly.
Breanna sat down at the kitchen counter while Eliot made some hot chocolate; strangely, it didn't feel as awkward as it should have. Mainly it felt... cosy.
“Why were you watching me?” Eliot asked as he put the mugs and a jar of Danish salted butter on the counter.
Breanna shrugged: “I dunno. I just happened to be awake, doing surveillance.”
“Yeah, right.” Eliot snorted. He didn't sound angry though.
“I didn't do it on purpose or for creepy reasons, okay?” Breanna took a sip of her cocoa, which was delicious; there was hint of cinnamon and something else.
“Cardamom,” Eliot provided when he saw her little frown as she tried to figure it out.
“It's awesome,” Breanna nodded. “Got any marshmallows?”
Eliot gave her a withering look: “You and Hardison both,” he muttered, but he turned around and dug some mini marshmallows out of one of the cupboards. Then he put the bread on the counter as well and sat down opposite her; while he cut it, it kept steaming gently.
The butter melted on the still warm bread, which was delicious as well. Breanna was aware that this was an exception: Eliot didn't usually stay up to eat what he made, he just left it on the counter for the others to find, and none of his creations lasted long in the mornings. Especially when Breanna snuck in after Eliot had gone to bed.
“This is really good,” she said thickly around her third slice of bread. “Where did you learn to do this?”
Eliot considered her: “I didn't,” he said after a moment. “A friend taught me how to cook, a long time ago. Baking's easier. Kinda just read up on it and tried my luck.” He put down his mug: “You shouldn't be up so late every night.”
“Why not?”
“Sleep's important.”
“Really? I thought you only needed 90 minutes per day?”
Eliot's eyes narrowed: “Hardison tell you this?”
Breanna shrugged.
Eliot shook his head: “It's only a myth,” he said, and now the corners of his mouth were actually quirking up ever so minutely. Squint and you'd miss it. “Something I made up.”
“I see.” Breanna took a sip of cocoa. “Maintaining an image and messing with people's heads a little, huh?”
This had Eliot grinning for real. He cocked his head: “Something like that,” he conceded.
“I don't need that much sleep,” Breanna now said. “And I work better at night.”
“You'll still be tired tomorrow.”
“So will you.”
Eliot refrained from telling her that he didn't choose to be up. That he only did this after a particularly gruesome nightmare, if he had managed not to wake anyone else for a change and needed to calm down, or when he was in some kind of bodily discomfort, for example when his joints and/or bruises ached too much after a fight. It was preferable to keep moving in that case, and usually, it helped.
When he got back to bed after an unscheduled baking session, he felt better physically and emotionally and was tired enough to be able to go to sleep nevertheless.
The kid didn't need to know about that, however; no need to trouble her with all the baggage he had, or the harsh reality that was his job.
Instead, he laughed quietly because she kept reminding him of Hardison: it was the same kind of sass. He didn't even mind that she'd been watching him; it was the Hardison way of taking care of people. Well, one of the ways. It seemed to be running in the family.
Breanna now hesitated: “You okay?” she asked softly. “I mean, contrary to what it's been looking like, I don't actually wanna pry, but...” She trailed off, waving her hand around the kitchen.
Eliot's gaze was intense now; same kind of sass, same kind of inherent kindness. For a moment, he missed Hardison so intently that he felt his eyes burn; at the same time, he was suddenly grateful that Breanna had breezed into their lives.
“Yeah,” he eventually said in an equally low voice. “Just couldn't sleep.”
Which was more of an answer than Breanna had expected, especially since his face had closed up a little again the moment she had asked; she doubted that he was aware of it. It made him look vulnerable too, more so than she wanted to see.
It was clear to Breanna by now that Alec may have twisted the truth more than a little bit- okay, the term “truth” probably didn't apply at all here- whenever he told her about having to save Eliot yet again during a con, but her brother's superman issues aside- while Eliot undoubtedly could hold his own in a fight and then some, he probably still needed saving anyway, in many regards. Something to do with his past and why he looked so haunted at times.
Breanna contemplated the scars on his hands and in his face and once more felt glad that these people had found one another. Who knew where they'd be if they hadn't? And she realized that already, she included herself in this little group.
“'kay,” she replied, giving him a small smile. She was confident that she'd wear him down, eventually, until they'd be at a point where she could hug him as easily as Parker, her brother and even Sophie did. For now, he still had his walls up; she had ventured into his personal space a few times already just to test their boundaries, and it had gone okay, but there was still room for improvement. She wanted to be his friend, not only a crew member and Hardison's younger sister. Maybe this here, just the two of them in the middle of the night, was a start.
She looked at the bread, tempted to eat one more slice but not wanting to appear greedy. Half a second later, Eliot had already pushed it towards her in a silent invitation to help herself. Beaming, Breanna did so.
“So who was the friend who taught you how to cook?” she asked as she reached for the butter.
Eliot got up; for a moment, Breanna thought he was avoiding her question, but he only reached for the pot and topped up their mugs with the rest of the cocoa.
“His name's Toby,” he said, sitting down again. “I was in a bad place back then...”
On the following morning, when Breanna got up, Sophie and Harry were sitting at the bar, drinking coffee and eating some of the fresh bread with an assortment of spreads; Parker was nowhere to be seen and Eliot was busy working out at the sandbag in the corner.
“Good morning, darling,” Sophie said as Breanna came in with a mug of coffee and sat down next to her. “Here, try this bread Eliot made. It's delicious!”
Harry, who had his mouth full, made affirmative noises that were bordering on the obscene, his eyelids fluttering.
“Our Mr. Wilson!” Sophie tutted, grinning into her coffee.
Breanna glanced at Eliot, who looked at her without stopping in his motions, and winked.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling. “I will.”
The End
This story was inspired this scene in "The Paranormal Hackativity Job":
