Work Text:
“Police and EMS are on their way,” Hardison advised over the comms. His sentence was punctuated by the slam of a car door. “They’ll be here in four minutes.”
“I don’t need a hospital,” Parker protested as she sat on the floor of the construction trailer. “It’s just a scratch. Eliot can patch me up when we get back to Nate’s.”
“The ambulance isn’t for you, mama.”
Nate — pressing his balled-up dress shirt against the gash running down Parker’s thigh — opened his mouth to interject. He was cut off by the sound of a man screaming in the background of Eliot’s feed.
“Sophie?” he pivoted.
“I’ve got eyes on Eliot. Hardison too,” she replied. “I’ll do my best to keep them from sending Caldwell home in a body bag, but there’s no bloody guarantee I won’t put him in one myself.”
The comms erupted into chaos as Hardison joined Eliot in roughing up their mark.
Trusting them not to outright murder the shady developer, Nate removed his earbud.
“Let me get yours,” he said to Parker, brushing her hair back.
“Leave it,” she laughed, catching his hand. “I kinda want to hear this. Sophie just kicked him with a stiletto."