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gilascaveTitle: The My Lovers Are Insane, But I'm OK With That Job
Author: James
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Hardison/Parker/Eliot
Word Count: 1,300
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made
Notes: for terrie01
Summary: Hardison doesn't remember anybody telling him that Eliot was a centaur.
The horse had been making murderous eyes at Hardison as soon as they'd walked out to the fence, and Hardison had been perfectly happy to go back inside and leave the beast alone. Eliot, however, had gone right up to it and put his hand on its neck, and started talking to it quietly. In only a few minutes, the horse had settled down. The murderous look was still in its eyes, Hardison could see, but it was no longer acting like it was about to leap over the fence and trample him.
"Okay, that's just spooky," Hardison said, and he totally wasn't surprised when Eliot just turned and scowled at him. Because, really, the only time Eliot wasn't scowling was when he got to hit somebody, or when somebody offered to do the dishes when he cooked, or when they'd actually managed to wear him out in bed.
And all places that weren't "bed." Hardison still hadn't forgiven Eliot for coming all over the captain's seat of his van, even if he'd had a little trouble expressing his displeasure at the time, what with his dick being in Eliot's mouth. But that wasn't the point, the point was that Eliot hadn't brought a towel or used his shirt or anything to keep from splattering all over the vinyl of Hardison's van's seats.
"What's spooky?" Parker asked, appearing beside Hardison from out of nowhere. Seriously, they were standing in a field, with nothing but fence and a barn way the hell over there and trees... Hardison shook his head.
"You're spooky," Hardison told her, not wanting to know if she'd made her way from one tree to the next all the way from the house where Nate and Sophie presumably were still talking to their client. "And Eliot's spooky, because apparently he speaks horse."
Eliot was scowling harder now as if Hardison had actually said something insulting. Parker just looked at Hardison like he'd said something stupid. "That's because he's part horse," Parker said.
He saw the sharp and extremely annoyed look Eliot shot Parker, but Hardison focused most of his attention on what she'd said. "Which part?" he asked, because yeah, they'd all seen Eliot naked several times by now and there was no way Hardison had actually, you know, measured or anything. But he was pretty sure he had at least half an inch on him.
If anybody was counting, which Hardison completely wasn't. But if somebody was hung like a horse around here, it wasn't necessarily Eliot. Comparatively speaking.
Parker laughed. "Silly. All of him is part horse." She went over to Eliot, giving the horse itself a look of distrust. She still wasn't comfortable around them, despite assuring Nate before they'd taken this job that she was no longer scared of them, per se.
"Oh, all of him is part horse," Hardison repeated, nodding. Then he asked Eliot, "Is it just me or is she making less sense than usual?"
Eliot, surprise surprise, just scowled at them both and turned back towards the horse. He muttered something under his breath that wasn't English, but it was clear from his tone that he was disparaging his companions. Hardison shook his head and watched Parker try to decide if she wanted to risk touching the horse. Eliot gave her a nod, telling her in a gentle, encouraging voice that it'd be fine if she pet him.
"So is anyone going to tell me why Parker thinks Eliot is part horse?"
"Because he is," Nate said from behind him, and Hardison did not make any sort of high-pitched squealing noise. At all. And there came Eliot's angry scowl, again, directed right past Hardison and directly on Nate. Who ignored him with the same ease as Hardison and Parker had.
"Doesn't anybody understand the point of something being a fucking secret?" Eliot demanded, and, okay, whoa, this wasn't like telling them off for saying nonsense.
"How can it be a secret that Parker and Nate have lost their minds?" Hardison demanded.
"He's a centaur," Nate said easily, and Eliot's scowled changed into that extra special scowl that meant somebody was about to start bleeding from half a dozen places. Hardison tensed, even though it hadn't been directed at him, then he frowned.
"Hold up, what? Because it sounded like you said the word 'centaur' which, may I just point out, is a mythological creature that doesn't--"
"Sorry I'm late," said Cynthia, the niece of the elderly couple who'd hired them. She'd come up behind them and Hardison had heard the hooves of the horse she'd been riding, only when he looked over there was no horse.
Or there was a horse, but only part of a horse, and Cynthia's waist was stuck where its head should have been. Hardison tried to make his face look a little less stupid, with his jaw near his knees and his eyes bugging out like he'd just seen a real, live, centaur.
She gave him an amused look, then turned to Eliot. "Uncle Travis said we had some time while you wait for the developers to call Mr. Ford back, so I thought you'd like to go for a run."
"Hell, yes," Eliot said, and Parker was clearly suffering from brain sucking aliens because she clapped her hands together.
"Can I ride you?" she asked, and Eliot smirked.
"Sure thing, darling. And maybe we can get Hardison up on Cynthia's back. If she doesn't mind having a tenderfoot for a rider?"
"I what! I don't-- would somebody tell me--" Then he stopped, because the next thing that happened was something he recognised. Eliot was taking off his boots, then his jeans, and Hardison wasn't sure that he'd ever agreed to having an orgy in front of Nate and Sophie, but that was all he could think of as Eliot stripped to the waist.
The he was...not really Eliot anymore, because his legs had turned into horse and Parker was pressing her hand against his fur. Or whatever they called it. Hardison looked up -- up, what the fuck -- at Eliot's face.
"You," was all Hardison could say.
Eliot nodded, and there was a tiny bit of something like an apology in his expression. "Yeah. I honestly thought you already knew, like the others. Parker and Sophie just figured it out; Nate found out ten years ago when I had to change to save his life." Eliot shrugged.
Hardison looked from him, to Cynthia, once over to Nate and Sophie who were watching the centaurs but didn't seem anything more than intrigued by it, and definitely not shocked or surprised. Hardison turned to watch Parker jump nimbly onto Eliot's back, and watched how Eliot barely registered her weight as she settled astride him. Parker grinned, widely, and scooted forward to squeeze her arms around Eliot's waist.
Then he realised everyone was waiting on him. Cynthia held out her hand. "Do you want to join us?"
Hardison scowled, and maybe it wasn't on the same level as an Eliot Spencer scowl, but it was pretty damn scowly. "I'll come," he said. "But I'm not riding."
He heeled off his shoes, and started removing his shirt. It was nice, he thought, when everybody except Nate goggled at him as he stripped down. He let himself preen, just a little smugly, before he changed.
Down on all fours, he whuffed at the others to let them know okay, already, let's get on with this running thing and don't let the gate hit you on the ass. At least that finally explained why Eliot never smelled exactly right, Hardison thought, then he let out a howl and took off as Eliot broke into a gallop.
Author: James
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Hardison/Parker/Eliot
Word Count: 1,300
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made
Notes: for terrie01
Summary: Hardison doesn't remember anybody telling him that Eliot was a centaur.
The horse had been making murderous eyes at Hardison as soon as they'd walked out to the fence, and Hardison had been perfectly happy to go back inside and leave the beast alone. Eliot, however, had gone right up to it and put his hand on its neck, and started talking to it quietly. In only a few minutes, the horse had settled down. The murderous look was still in its eyes, Hardison could see, but it was no longer acting like it was about to leap over the fence and trample him.
"Okay, that's just spooky," Hardison said, and he totally wasn't surprised when Eliot just turned and scowled at him. Because, really, the only time Eliot wasn't scowling was when he got to hit somebody, or when somebody offered to do the dishes when he cooked, or when they'd actually managed to wear him out in bed.
And all places that weren't "bed." Hardison still hadn't forgiven Eliot for coming all over the captain's seat of his van, even if he'd had a little trouble expressing his displeasure at the time, what with his dick being in Eliot's mouth. But that wasn't the point, the point was that Eliot hadn't brought a towel or used his shirt or anything to keep from splattering all over the vinyl of Hardison's van's seats.
"What's spooky?" Parker asked, appearing beside Hardison from out of nowhere. Seriously, they were standing in a field, with nothing but fence and a barn way the hell over there and trees... Hardison shook his head.
"You're spooky," Hardison told her, not wanting to know if she'd made her way from one tree to the next all the way from the house where Nate and Sophie presumably were still talking to their client. "And Eliot's spooky, because apparently he speaks horse."
Eliot was scowling harder now as if Hardison had actually said something insulting. Parker just looked at Hardison like he'd said something stupid. "That's because he's part horse," Parker said.
He saw the sharp and extremely annoyed look Eliot shot Parker, but Hardison focused most of his attention on what she'd said. "Which part?" he asked, because yeah, they'd all seen Eliot naked several times by now and there was no way Hardison had actually, you know, measured or anything. But he was pretty sure he had at least half an inch on him.
If anybody was counting, which Hardison completely wasn't. But if somebody was hung like a horse around here, it wasn't necessarily Eliot. Comparatively speaking.
Parker laughed. "Silly. All of him is part horse." She went over to Eliot, giving the horse itself a look of distrust. She still wasn't comfortable around them, despite assuring Nate before they'd taken this job that she was no longer scared of them, per se.
"Oh, all of him is part horse," Hardison repeated, nodding. Then he asked Eliot, "Is it just me or is she making less sense than usual?"
Eliot, surprise surprise, just scowled at them both and turned back towards the horse. He muttered something under his breath that wasn't English, but it was clear from his tone that he was disparaging his companions. Hardison shook his head and watched Parker try to decide if she wanted to risk touching the horse. Eliot gave her a nod, telling her in a gentle, encouraging voice that it'd be fine if she pet him.
"So is anyone going to tell me why Parker thinks Eliot is part horse?"
"Because he is," Nate said from behind him, and Hardison did not make any sort of high-pitched squealing noise. At all. And there came Eliot's angry scowl, again, directed right past Hardison and directly on Nate. Who ignored him with the same ease as Hardison and Parker had.
"Doesn't anybody understand the point of something being a fucking secret?" Eliot demanded, and, okay, whoa, this wasn't like telling them off for saying nonsense.
"How can it be a secret that Parker and Nate have lost their minds?" Hardison demanded.
"He's a centaur," Nate said easily, and Eliot's scowled changed into that extra special scowl that meant somebody was about to start bleeding from half a dozen places. Hardison tensed, even though it hadn't been directed at him, then he frowned.
"Hold up, what? Because it sounded like you said the word 'centaur' which, may I just point out, is a mythological creature that doesn't--"
"Sorry I'm late," said Cynthia, the niece of the elderly couple who'd hired them. She'd come up behind them and Hardison had heard the hooves of the horse she'd been riding, only when he looked over there was no horse.
Or there was a horse, but only part of a horse, and Cynthia's waist was stuck where its head should have been. Hardison tried to make his face look a little less stupid, with his jaw near his knees and his eyes bugging out like he'd just seen a real, live, centaur.
She gave him an amused look, then turned to Eliot. "Uncle Travis said we had some time while you wait for the developers to call Mr. Ford back, so I thought you'd like to go for a run."
"Hell, yes," Eliot said, and Parker was clearly suffering from brain sucking aliens because she clapped her hands together.
"Can I ride you?" she asked, and Eliot smirked.
"Sure thing, darling. And maybe we can get Hardison up on Cynthia's back. If she doesn't mind having a tenderfoot for a rider?"
"I what! I don't-- would somebody tell me--" Then he stopped, because the next thing that happened was something he recognised. Eliot was taking off his boots, then his jeans, and Hardison wasn't sure that he'd ever agreed to having an orgy in front of Nate and Sophie, but that was all he could think of as Eliot stripped to the waist.
The he was...not really Eliot anymore, because his legs had turned into horse and Parker was pressing her hand against his fur. Or whatever they called it. Hardison looked up -- up, what the fuck -- at Eliot's face.
"You," was all Hardison could say.
Eliot nodded, and there was a tiny bit of something like an apology in his expression. "Yeah. I honestly thought you already knew, like the others. Parker and Sophie just figured it out; Nate found out ten years ago when I had to change to save his life." Eliot shrugged.
Hardison looked from him, to Cynthia, once over to Nate and Sophie who were watching the centaurs but didn't seem anything more than intrigued by it, and definitely not shocked or surprised. Hardison turned to watch Parker jump nimbly onto Eliot's back, and watched how Eliot barely registered her weight as she settled astride him. Parker grinned, widely, and scooted forward to squeeze her arms around Eliot's waist.
Then he realised everyone was waiting on him. Cynthia held out her hand. "Do you want to join us?"
Hardison scowled, and maybe it wasn't on the same level as an Eliot Spencer scowl, but it was pretty damn scowly. "I'll come," he said. "But I'm not riding."
He heeled off his shoes, and started removing his shirt. It was nice, he thought, when everybody except Nate goggled at him as he stripped down. He let himself preen, just a little smugly, before he changed.
Down on all fours, he whuffed at the others to let them know okay, already, let's get on with this running thing and don't let the gate hit you on the ass. At least that finally explained why Eliot never smelled exactly right, Hardison thought, then he let out a howl and took off as Eliot broke into a gallop.