Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2011-05-17 08:14 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2011-05-17 08:14 pm
Eliot/Jo - Your Face in Every Star
Fandom: Leverage/Supernatural
Title: Your Face in Every Star
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Characters: Eliot Spencer/Jo Harvelle, mentions of Dean Winchester/Parker
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
10_orders Prompt: 5. Never give up.
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: When you’re looking to hide from the rest of the world, a hunter bar is usually the place to do it.
Author’s Note: Written forsourpony at xoverexchange. Not part of my original Eliot/Jo series, but I couldn’t resist doing this pairing when I saw them on the requests.
Disclaimer: I don’t own. They belong to Kripke and Devlin. I’m just borrowing and will put everything back where I found it.
When you’re looking to hide from the rest of the world, a hunter bar is usually the place to do it. Only problem is, if you’re not a hunter, you stick out like a sore thumb. At the moment, Eliot doesn’t really care. He just needs a place to lay low for a while, and where he won’t attract too much attention. There aren’t really a lot of places where you can do that safely, but disappearing into the American Midwest is, unfortunately, the best option he has.
Thing is, when you tell one of the most dangerous men in the world to go fuck himself, you often times wind up taking the lesser of two evils.
It isn’t hard to find out about what lies just under the surface when you get into things no one’s supposed to know about. The world is full of shady people and items that do things most people wouldn’t be able to dream of, and Eliot was a retrieval specialist. It is his job to find things, whether he wants to know what they do or not. Eventually he learns not to ask what they do, and more just want he needs to do to protect himself from them. It’s when he does ask that he winds up in situations like this one, after all.
It’s around noon when he wanders in to the Harvelle Roadhouse, stepping out of the rain and pulling the hood off his head. It’s early still, so there’s not a lot of people around. In fact, there’s no one but the small, lithe blond standing behind the bar, and the second she hears the smack! of the screen door closing behind him, she turns around and raises an eyebrow.
“We don’t open for a couple hours,” she sighed, before moving to wipe down the bar. “So if you’re looking for a beer you’re shit out of luck.”
He shakes his head, rolling his shoulders a bit to shed some of the excess water off his shoulders. “Lookin’ for Ellen Harvelle.”
She straightens a bit at that, her head tipping to the side almost as though she’s trying to figure out what he’s after. “She ain’t here. Went into town to run some errands, but she’ll be back in an hour.”
There’s something in her tone that suggests he should leave until that time, but Eliot didn’t exactly have anywhere to go. He makes his way over to the bar and sits down on one of the bar stools. It’s been a long few days, and he just wants to sit still for a while. This seems to be the place to do it. “I’ll wait.”
Jo stares at him for a moment, and it’s more confused than anything else. He knows that he’s probably making an odd choice when he’s just looking for work, but he’s been traveling for days, and he doesn’t really feel like going anywhere else. “So you’re just gonna … sit here for an hour?”
“Is that a problem?” It comes out a little harsher than he intends, but he’s stressed and she’s not making things easy for him. Jo holds up her hands, before nodding.
“Hey, buddy. Your time. Just figurin’ you had better things to do than wait in an empty bar.” Eliot nods, but kept to his seat on the stool. There is a long beat of silence, and the girl exhales hard. “Wanna beer?”
He raises an eyebrow at her. “Thought I was shit out of luck.”
She smirks. “Well, if I’m not gonna get rid of you I might as well show you a little hospitality.” She reaches behind the bar to grab one of the beers and pops the top before setting it down in front of him. “On the house. Looks like you could use it.”
“Thanks,” he rasps, before taking a sip. “Eliot.”
“Jo,” she says with a nod. “Welcome to the Roadhouse.”
***
“You keep dropping your shoulder.”
It’s been a few months since Eliot’s arrival at the Roadhouse, and he can tell that he’s an odd wrench thrown into the Harvelles’ life, but it’s been good for him. He’s been out among relatively normal people doing relatively normal things. No constantly looking over his shoulder, all the while waiting for someone to stab it. He’s still paranoid, he always will be, but here, somehow, it’s a little less. He doesn’t even have to fight anyone, most of the time, but once in a while he tries to train Jo in handling herself a little better. Problem is, she’s just as stubborn as he is.
Jo looks frustrated. In fact, she doesn’t even bother to take the hint, and just throws the punch again, slamming it into his jaw. He doesn’t have enough time to brace himself for it, and it hurts like a bitch, but he supposes that that’s what he earns for trying to teach a Harvelle woman how to fight. The punch comes again, but this time he’s ready for it, his hand coming up to meet hers and stopping the punch. He uses the momentum to get his arm around her, and then she’s tucked up against his chest, elbows down and pinning her in place.
“You drop your shoulder, you put too much of your weight behind the punch and it throws you off balance.” His voice is low against her ear. “Then something like this’ll happen.”
Her head tips up to the side and she glares at him, not bothering to struggle, because she knows it won’t get her anywhere. “I don’t have a whole lot of weight to throw around. I tend to need all of it.”
“That power isn’t going to do you any good, if they’re hitting you from where you’re off balance.” He sighs, before taking a step back and putting a little distance between them. “I’ll show you. Come at me again.”
Jo’s stubborn, but she isn’t stupid. She does as she’s told, coming at him again with the same high jab, but her form is better. It takes him longer to pin her this time, and when he does, he takes a second to catch his breath and just stops. It’s been a long, long time since Eliot’s let someone get under his skin like this. It’s been a long time since he’s been somewhere long enough for it to happen, and he knows that it’s a bad idea. She’s a kid.
He can feel that she’s not, but he knows that she’s not ready for the world of hurt that comes with being part of his. No one really is. It doesn’t stop him from looking at her while she’s there, under him, and wanting to close that small gap between them, but he doesn’t. He takes a breath and pulls off, before extending a hand to help her up.
“That wasn’t bad.”
“Not bad?” she scoffed, before slamming her fist into his shoulder as she made her way out the door. “We’ll see how not bad I was when you’re hurting tomorrow.”
He watches her walk out, and takes the time to quietly smack himself into getting a grip.
***
Eliot’s not around when Dean and Sam Winchester show up the first time, and that’s probably a good thing. The two of them would have wound up laid out faster than they could even say hello. He knows that Harvelle women can handle themselves—if there’s anything that he’s learned over the past few months at the Roadhouse, it’s that—but it’s still his instinct to protect that gets in the way. He’d rather take the hits so that other people wouldn’t have to.
Also, the way Dean and Jo were looking at each other probably would have pissed him off as well, but that is another story.
It had been years since he has seen either of the Harvelles, and he was barely at the Roadhouse six months, but when she walks into the bar, he picks her out in an instant. Eliot’s not the kind of man who believes in coincidences, but this has to be. There’s no other way.
They had just finished a job outside of Iowa, and he had made his way to the bar to wind down, away from the rest of the team. It’s still strange, being part of a team, and sometimes he still needs that time to himself. He picks an empty place in the middle of nowhere, and the last person he expects to walk in the door is Jo Harvelle, and yet there she is. She’s grown up a bit, less of a girl and more of a woman, and in some ways, a woman who’s seen too much, but it’s still her, and he’d know her anywhere.
“Harvelle?”
She turns at the sound of the voice, confused that someone knows her name, but the answer to the question is standing right there in front of her. She spots him, and there’s this smile that’s big enough to light up the room. She launches herself at him and he catches her, just holding her in that moment and trying not to think ahead. He knows he probably won’t see her again after tonight, but for right now, that’s okay.
“Got time for a drink?” she asks as he puts her down, and he nods.
“Sure. I got time.”
“Good.”
***
They didn’t just have drinks.
It probably isn’t the best idea he’s ever had, but a few beers and some good conversation, and by the end of the night, they were back in Eliot’s hotel room catching up to where they should have been five years ago. It isn’t anything more than it is, but it’s more. More than he’s had in a long time, and it feels good.
Eliot doesn’t sleep, but Jo doesn’t seem to be either. She’s curled in close to him, her fingers brushing against his arm. “It’s bad out there,” she says softly. “Apocalypse bad.”
There’s a part of him that wants to balk at the idea, that this is the end of days, but he knows better. He knows the world they live in. He’s seen it. And if it’s coming out of her mouth, he’s inclined to believe her.
“Givin’ me a heads up?” he asks, not sure why she’s bringing it up.
“Just … saying,” she says softly, tipping her head up a bit to look at him, before leaning in to kiss him softly. “Wish we’d done this sooner.”
One hand comes up to brush against the side of her face, keeping her eyes on him. “You need me?” He knows that normally she wouldn’t. Normally she could handle things just fine on her own, but this seems bigger than her. And he doesn’t hang people out to dry. Not when he can help.
She shakes her head, keeping close and giving him a small smile. “No. We’ll be okay.” There’s a small bit of hesitation in her voice. “I could drop by when it’s over?”
There’s something in her voice that tells him she doesn’t really believe it, but he nods anyway, returning the smile and brushing a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah. Anyime.”
She closes her eyes, curling up to rest against him before nodding. “Good.”
He tightens his arms around her, letting his lips rest on top of her head as he keeps her close. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’s never going to see her again. But for right now, he’s good with just having this.
Title: Your Face in Every Star
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Characters: Eliot Spencer/Jo Harvelle, mentions of Dean Winchester/Parker
10_orders Prompt: 5. Never give up.Content Warning: N/A
Summary: When you’re looking to hide from the rest of the world, a hunter bar is usually the place to do it.
Author’s Note: Written for
sourpony at xoverexchange. Not part of my original Eliot/Jo series, but I couldn’t resist doing this pairing when I saw them on the requests.Disclaimer: I don’t own. They belong to Kripke and Devlin. I’m just borrowing and will put everything back where I found it.
When you’re looking to hide from the rest of the world, a hunter bar is usually the place to do it. Only problem is, if you’re not a hunter, you stick out like a sore thumb. At the moment, Eliot doesn’t really care. He just needs a place to lay low for a while, and where he won’t attract too much attention. There aren’t really a lot of places where you can do that safely, but disappearing into the American Midwest is, unfortunately, the best option he has.
Thing is, when you tell one of the most dangerous men in the world to go fuck himself, you often times wind up taking the lesser of two evils.
It isn’t hard to find out about what lies just under the surface when you get into things no one’s supposed to know about. The world is full of shady people and items that do things most people wouldn’t be able to dream of, and Eliot was a retrieval specialist. It is his job to find things, whether he wants to know what they do or not. Eventually he learns not to ask what they do, and more just want he needs to do to protect himself from them. It’s when he does ask that he winds up in situations like this one, after all.
It’s around noon when he wanders in to the Harvelle Roadhouse, stepping out of the rain and pulling the hood off his head. It’s early still, so there’s not a lot of people around. In fact, there’s no one but the small, lithe blond standing behind the bar, and the second she hears the smack! of the screen door closing behind him, she turns around and raises an eyebrow.
“We don’t open for a couple hours,” she sighed, before moving to wipe down the bar. “So if you’re looking for a beer you’re shit out of luck.”
He shakes his head, rolling his shoulders a bit to shed some of the excess water off his shoulders. “Lookin’ for Ellen Harvelle.”
She straightens a bit at that, her head tipping to the side almost as though she’s trying to figure out what he’s after. “She ain’t here. Went into town to run some errands, but she’ll be back in an hour.”
There’s something in her tone that suggests he should leave until that time, but Eliot didn’t exactly have anywhere to go. He makes his way over to the bar and sits down on one of the bar stools. It’s been a long few days, and he just wants to sit still for a while. This seems to be the place to do it. “I’ll wait.”
Jo stares at him for a moment, and it’s more confused than anything else. He knows that he’s probably making an odd choice when he’s just looking for work, but he’s been traveling for days, and he doesn’t really feel like going anywhere else. “So you’re just gonna … sit here for an hour?”
“Is that a problem?” It comes out a little harsher than he intends, but he’s stressed and she’s not making things easy for him. Jo holds up her hands, before nodding.
“Hey, buddy. Your time. Just figurin’ you had better things to do than wait in an empty bar.” Eliot nods, but kept to his seat on the stool. There is a long beat of silence, and the girl exhales hard. “Wanna beer?”
He raises an eyebrow at her. “Thought I was shit out of luck.”
She smirks. “Well, if I’m not gonna get rid of you I might as well show you a little hospitality.” She reaches behind the bar to grab one of the beers and pops the top before setting it down in front of him. “On the house. Looks like you could use it.”
“Thanks,” he rasps, before taking a sip. “Eliot.”
“Jo,” she says with a nod. “Welcome to the Roadhouse.”
***
“You keep dropping your shoulder.”
It’s been a few months since Eliot’s arrival at the Roadhouse, and he can tell that he’s an odd wrench thrown into the Harvelles’ life, but it’s been good for him. He’s been out among relatively normal people doing relatively normal things. No constantly looking over his shoulder, all the while waiting for someone to stab it. He’s still paranoid, he always will be, but here, somehow, it’s a little less. He doesn’t even have to fight anyone, most of the time, but once in a while he tries to train Jo in handling herself a little better. Problem is, she’s just as stubborn as he is.
Jo looks frustrated. In fact, she doesn’t even bother to take the hint, and just throws the punch again, slamming it into his jaw. He doesn’t have enough time to brace himself for it, and it hurts like a bitch, but he supposes that that’s what he earns for trying to teach a Harvelle woman how to fight. The punch comes again, but this time he’s ready for it, his hand coming up to meet hers and stopping the punch. He uses the momentum to get his arm around her, and then she’s tucked up against his chest, elbows down and pinning her in place.
“You drop your shoulder, you put too much of your weight behind the punch and it throws you off balance.” His voice is low against her ear. “Then something like this’ll happen.”
Her head tips up to the side and she glares at him, not bothering to struggle, because she knows it won’t get her anywhere. “I don’t have a whole lot of weight to throw around. I tend to need all of it.”
“That power isn’t going to do you any good, if they’re hitting you from where you’re off balance.” He sighs, before taking a step back and putting a little distance between them. “I’ll show you. Come at me again.”
Jo’s stubborn, but she isn’t stupid. She does as she’s told, coming at him again with the same high jab, but her form is better. It takes him longer to pin her this time, and when he does, he takes a second to catch his breath and just stops. It’s been a long, long time since Eliot’s let someone get under his skin like this. It’s been a long time since he’s been somewhere long enough for it to happen, and he knows that it’s a bad idea. She’s a kid.
He can feel that she’s not, but he knows that she’s not ready for the world of hurt that comes with being part of his. No one really is. It doesn’t stop him from looking at her while she’s there, under him, and wanting to close that small gap between them, but he doesn’t. He takes a breath and pulls off, before extending a hand to help her up.
“That wasn’t bad.”
“Not bad?” she scoffed, before slamming her fist into his shoulder as she made her way out the door. “We’ll see how not bad I was when you’re hurting tomorrow.”
He watches her walk out, and takes the time to quietly smack himself into getting a grip.
***
Eliot’s not around when Dean and Sam Winchester show up the first time, and that’s probably a good thing. The two of them would have wound up laid out faster than they could even say hello. He knows that Harvelle women can handle themselves—if there’s anything that he’s learned over the past few months at the Roadhouse, it’s that—but it’s still his instinct to protect that gets in the way. He’d rather take the hits so that other people wouldn’t have to.
Also, the way Dean and Jo were looking at each other probably would have pissed him off as well, but that is another story.
It had been years since he has seen either of the Harvelles, and he was barely at the Roadhouse six months, but when she walks into the bar, he picks her out in an instant. Eliot’s not the kind of man who believes in coincidences, but this has to be. There’s no other way.
They had just finished a job outside of Iowa, and he had made his way to the bar to wind down, away from the rest of the team. It’s still strange, being part of a team, and sometimes he still needs that time to himself. He picks an empty place in the middle of nowhere, and the last person he expects to walk in the door is Jo Harvelle, and yet there she is. She’s grown up a bit, less of a girl and more of a woman, and in some ways, a woman who’s seen too much, but it’s still her, and he’d know her anywhere.
“Harvelle?”
She turns at the sound of the voice, confused that someone knows her name, but the answer to the question is standing right there in front of her. She spots him, and there’s this smile that’s big enough to light up the room. She launches herself at him and he catches her, just holding her in that moment and trying not to think ahead. He knows he probably won’t see her again after tonight, but for right now, that’s okay.
“Got time for a drink?” she asks as he puts her down, and he nods.
“Sure. I got time.”
“Good.”
***
They didn’t just have drinks.
It probably isn’t the best idea he’s ever had, but a few beers and some good conversation, and by the end of the night, they were back in Eliot’s hotel room catching up to where they should have been five years ago. It isn’t anything more than it is, but it’s more. More than he’s had in a long time, and it feels good.
Eliot doesn’t sleep, but Jo doesn’t seem to be either. She’s curled in close to him, her fingers brushing against his arm. “It’s bad out there,” she says softly. “Apocalypse bad.”
There’s a part of him that wants to balk at the idea, that this is the end of days, but he knows better. He knows the world they live in. He’s seen it. And if it’s coming out of her mouth, he’s inclined to believe her.
“Givin’ me a heads up?” he asks, not sure why she’s bringing it up.
“Just … saying,” she says softly, tipping her head up a bit to look at him, before leaning in to kiss him softly. “Wish we’d done this sooner.”
One hand comes up to brush against the side of her face, keeping her eyes on him. “You need me?” He knows that normally she wouldn’t. Normally she could handle things just fine on her own, but this seems bigger than her. And he doesn’t hang people out to dry. Not when he can help.
She shakes her head, keeping close and giving him a small smile. “No. We’ll be okay.” There’s a small bit of hesitation in her voice. “I could drop by when it’s over?”
There’s something in her voice that tells him she doesn’t really believe it, but he nods anyway, returning the smile and brushing a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah. Anyime.”
She closes her eyes, curling up to rest against him before nodding. “Good.”
He tightens his arms around her, letting his lips rest on top of her head as he keeps her close. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’s never going to see her again. But for right now, he’s good with just having this.
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