geniuswithasmartphone: (Chatting on Couch (All 3))
After the excitement of yesterday, no one had felt like broaching the topic of Leverage and how Nana felt about it. Instead, they'd gone home, helped clean up the remains of the attack, and then settled down to eat the best damn dinner Nana had cooked in her entire life. Saturday had melted away in a blur of warmth and love and family, with Nana relating embarrassing stories of Hardison's childhood, and Parker and Eliot relating embarrassing stories about his adulthood.

It was such a good time that Hardison was sometimes able to forget the secrets and discussions hanging between them.

But nothing good can stay and soon it was Sunday, just a little while before they had to return to the island. And, as much as he hated the idea, Hardison knew that he needed to speak up about things now--if he was going to speak of them at all.

And so it goes... )

[And over with! Thanks so much to my wonderful partners in crime, [livejournal.com profile] whoisalicewhite and [livejournal.com profile] vdistinctive. They were AMAZING, working with me on this since July. NFI, NFB, but OOC is lovely]
geniuswithasmartphone: (Phone)
Hardison pressed the End Call button on his phone and then flung it onto the couch. It landed so hard it bounced back up and crashed to the floor. Whatever. He had like a million others and, honestly, the sound of something breaking was welcome. He followed that up with a sharp punch to the wall, trying to vent his fury out through violence.

Ouch. Nope. Okay, bad idea. The sound of something breaking was only okay if it wasn't his fingers.

On the bright side, the pain took sharp the edge off his anger, leaving him clear-headed enough to think. Okay, Nana and a bunch of her friends had gotten swindled out of their pensions. She was still financially secure, of course, not that she knew it. Hardison had long ago set up various accounts and trusts for her. But the same couldn't be said for her friends--and she didn't know she wasn't in any financial trouble yet, because he couldn't explain to her about all her money without answering some uncomfortable questions about where it all came from.

Step one: let the crew know they had a new job. Stat. Sorry, vacation, but Nana took priority. Step two: dig up all the information about Deon Walker and his shady operation and make up an info briefing. Step three: use that information in Chicago to nail Walker's ass to the ground. Step four--

Actually, wait. Step one was going to be 'get some ice for his hand.' Everything else came after that.

The Pensioner Pyramid Scheme )

***

The taxi from the airport dropped them off in front of an unassuming white house on Luella Avenue, not far from Trinity Hospital. Hardison had his own place in Chicago, of course, and his own car, both under a pseudonym stolen from Mister What, and neither of which would do him any good for awhile. His car was in longterm storage across the city and he had no reasonable explanation for the existence of an apartment that was still furnished and rented and yet had sat empty for years, without even a sublet. In the end, it had been easier to agree to stay with his Nana in her place than try to argue with her about where they were staying.

He could con a bunch of thieving Russians so well that they'd kidnapped him, but put him on the phone with the woman who'd raised him and he was barely able to fib about the weather.

"We'll be able to get the car in a few hours," he said, hoisting his duffel bag full of electronics over his shoulder. That was all his bag contained; his clothes had been split between Parker and Eliot's bags to make room for more gadgets. "Someone at the storage place is gonna drive it over. Had to tell Nana that I was borrowin' it from an old friend. Otherwise she'd've insisted we drive hers an' she needs that for her shift at Trinity's." He was babbling, he didn't need to tell his crew why using Nana's car for their work was a terrible idea. It was just nerves. Not about the job--please, they could take down scum like Walker in their sleep--but bringing two of people he loved most in this world to his childhood home to meet the third. Nothing much had changed in the few years since he'd been gone. He tried to see it with strangers' eyes.

The same blue station wagon Nana'd bought the year before he'd graduated high school sat in the driveway that could use a good resurfacing. The house had a two-car garage, but it had been converted into a playroom back in the 90s, a few years before Hardison had come to live here. The lawn was a little shaggy, more clover and weeds than grass, but still green. Hardison wondered whose job it was now to mow it. The outside of the house was in good condition; Nana had 'won a contest' for discounted siding a few years back and the contractor had 'known a guy' who did roofing was was willing to shingle the roof for a fraction of the usual cost. It had still run Nana a few thousand dollars to get all the work done, but there was no cover story in the world that could make her believe she could get it done for less. Hardison knew that for a fact--he'd asked Sophie to help him come up with one and even she'd been stumped.

Which made Nana getting conned all the more surprising.

"So, uhh, yeah," he said, swinging open the gate to lead them up to the front door. "This is the place. Home sweet home."

In the (Calumet) Heights! )

[Phone call and resulting discussion available for broadcast, everything in Chicago is obviously NFB. Preplayed with the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] vdistinctive and [livejournal.com profile] whoisalicewhite]
geniuswithasmartphone: (Planning Around Table (All Three))
Hardison always loved his partners. But sometimes he loved them extra. Like right now, when they were indulging him in one of his favorite non-computer and non-bedroom pastimes: good, old-fashioned, pen-and-paper style D&D. 5th Edition had come out awhile ago, but Hardison had been so soured by 4th Ed that he'd refused to even acknowledge it. But some time on an old forum he'd started hanging out on during high school had convinced him to give it a try--and he'd managed to convince Parker and Eliot to try it along with him.

Okay, for Parker, he'd just used one of his 'Hardison Gets To Choose The Date' coupons. Eliot had required the real convincing.

But here they were, sitting around the dining room table, paper, pencils, and many-sided dice around them. Hardison was behind his DM screen as was right and proper, with the various NPCs he'd lovingly crafted over the last week in a neat pile to his side. Sure, he could have used his computer, but it just felt right to do this all by hand. He also had several bottles of Squeeze Orange soda and bags of gummy frogs handy to keep him going, but in deference to Eliot's delicate sensibilities (and as a subtle thank you for agreeing to play), most of the other snacks were things diced fruit and a veggie platter.

And a giant bowl of Doritos, because some things were just tradition, okay?

"A'ight," he said, beaming at them. "I took the liberty of pre-gennin' some characters for y'all to choose from so you ain't gotta worry about makin' characters tonight. Just tell me what you wanna be an' I'll hook you up."

[For the excited players!]

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August 2017

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