The Librarians, Leverage

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Last update
2020-07-13 01:17:24


    It seems like Eliot’s been spending most of his time at Aimee’s lately, so it’s no real surprise when he drops his bag in his room as soon as they get home from practice and asks Pop if he can borrow the truck. It’s fine — Jake’s got some Ancient Greek he wants to get through, and that’s hard to do with Eliot throwing things at his head when he gets bored.

    And Jake gets it, he does. When their mother was alive, she’d make their favourite meal, go all out on the cake. Pop… he’s pretty sure Pop just flat forgot, and there’s nothing to be gained by pointing that out. Aimee probably has something nice planned for Eliot, some surprise. Jake can’t really begrudge Eliot choosing that over sitting at home stewing over the fact that their own damn father couldn’t even get his damn act together long enough to pick up a damn card from the damn drug store.

    It’s just… It’s their birthday, dammit. They already exchanged gifts in the morning, before school, but still. It would have been nice to spend the evening with his brother. Go out for burgers or something. Get out of the house and pretend they weren’t both just counting down the days until they turned 18. (366, ‘cause of the leap year.)

    But he can’t say any of that with Pop sitting right there in his easy chair. Judging by the bottle next to him, it’s probably for the best if the truck’s not in the garage tonight anyway. So instead Jake smirks at Eliot and says “Have fun,” goes to his room and locks the door.

    Librarians Prompt Day 11: Cliffhanger

    Part of the Librarians Prompt Month started by @the-librarians-prompt-month

    There wasn’t a lock that Ezekiel Jones couldn’t pick, but there were plenty of locks he shouldn’t pick. 

    That, of course, never stopped him.

    When Jenkins mentioned a door in the corridor of doors that had a lock that could never be picked, Ezekiel was instantly up for the challenge. It took a little creativity, but eventually Ezekiel succeeded. 

    And walked right into trouble.

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    Librarians Prompt Month Day 10: Never Cried Wolf

    Part of the librarians Prompt Month started by @the-librarians-prompt-month

    Flynn read the note once, twice, three times. It didn’t make any more sense.

    Eve had just left?

    It didn’t make sense. Eve was never one to just leave. She was the most confrontational of them - the one to stare down a problem until it sat down and talked it out.

    And she just left?

    No, it couldn’t be. Eve didn’t leave, Eve wouldn’t leave. For all he probably deserved it, she wouldn’t.

    There had to be more to the story.

    Flynn read the letter again. It didn’t make any more sense.

    Even if he did something to cause Eve to leave him, she wouldn’t up and leave on the others. He remembered how much it had hurt her to pretend to betray the other librarians when they were fighting Apep.

    Eve had done it then, because it her was job. Her job was at the library - even when Flynn felt like he was being pulled a thousand directions, she knew where she was needed and it was here.

    She was the guardian.

    Librarians and potential librarians came a dime a dozen. Guardians were rare. And now, with the library untethered, they needed their one guardian more than ever.

    Eve knew where she was needed and it was here.

    She wouldn’t just leave.

    There had to be an explanation.

    Flynn read the letter again. It didn’t make any more sense.

    Was Eve in trouble? Had she sent a code through the letter? But Flynn would have instantly recognized any code Eve sent - she was smart enough to pick one he would recognize easily, but someone else might not.

    Was she just... tired? But they had just taken a vacation. And Flynn had it on good authority her life before the library wasn’t any less demanding, if a bit less weird.

    So then, what?

    Someone else must have written the letter.

    <>Alec Hardison

    The first time Hardison thinks about it, he’s doing their regular, seasonal ID clean up.

    The team burns through IDs so quickly that he has to take the time to maintain them, even when there hasn’t necessarily been an emergency. Whether it’s burning identities they’ve destroyed, or just solidifying some—a Facebook post here, an updated LinkedIn profile, some new online friends, filing their taxes—they need maintenance.

    He makes IDs practically every day, tailoring them to fit cons. These are more…these are like old favorites, he thinks, to continue the clothes metaphor. Tailored already, well-worn, in the back of the closet for when they’re needed again. Taken in or let out as needed.

    The adjustments usually aren’t too big, by design. These are, for the most part, boring people. Each of them has one more outlandish ID, but most passports they keep under their bed are for boring people, people who could get on a plane without causing any fuss, people who could get a loan just fine without being extraordinary. Ordinary, every day people don’t need many major life updates. 

    Except Parker had just torn her ACL on a job, and the hospital hadn’t told him anything while she was unconscious. Nothing. Not a damn word. 

    So he quietly marries Alice White and Didi Grant to Alexander Smith and Luke Waters. 

    And then he goes and marries Jane Smith and Michelle Frank to Derek Jones and Kurt Dowe. He even frames up some nice Honeymoon pictures for Parker and Eliot.

    And then, while he’s at it, he marries Matthew Smith to David Price.

    When he’s done, most of their most significant IDs are married to one or the other of their little trio. He’s doctored well over a hundred pictures—wedding shots for fancy ceremonies, and little elopements, and private, small, intimate weddings, and honeymoon shots, and dates, and everything else to make these relationships real—and he’s filed their taxes jointly. He’s legally changed some last names, filed change of address forms, and gotten official marriage licenses sent to him.

    In short, he’s spent more time on this little fantasy world than he would ever care to admit.

    Parker and Eliot don’t really monitor their IDs, he knows, other than keeping track of whose licenses and passports they plan on carrying at any given time. They probably don’t know what he did.

    But he does. And he can tell himself all he wants that it’s just in case one of them gets hurt, but that doesn’t make it any more true.

    Good thieves don’t lie to themselves, after all.


    They say the words for the first time when they’re in DC together, and Parker is good enough with people now to know that they don’t understand them the same way she does.

    Maybe Alec does. The way he looks in her eyes, the small smile he gives her after…She’d have to ask Sophie, to be sure, but she knows. Alec gets it.

    Alec gets everything, has since the very beginning. He got pretzels and got her, even when he doesn’t really understand what’s going on inside her brain. He still gets her.

    Eliot…he gets what’s going on inside her brain. They’re too alike, she knows. And it’s good, that they’re both on the team, that they do what they can do. But he doesn’t get it, because a few months ago, she wouldn’t have gotten it.

    Still, the way Eliot’s eyes soften when she reminds him of their agreement, of how they’re in this together, for better or worse, the way he doesn’t send them away even when he wants to…maybe he’s getting it too.

    Eliot doesn’t get it the same way she and Alec do. They’ve made their promises, said their words aready. Eliot…Eliot sleeps in their bed and kisses them sometimes and doesn’t leave, never leaves. It’s enough.

    She wants more. She let them take down her walls, like Sophie said. She fell into love like jumping off a building, and she knows they’re always there to catch her. She just wishes they could all jump into this together.

    Still. Alec was patient with her. She can be patient with Eliot.

    Several months later, Eliot looks at the two of them with a softness in his eyes she’s never seen before and says he’s never needed anything but them, and promises to be with them until his dying day. Parker watches him back, catches his eyes. He doesn’t look away.

    Parker looks away first, heart thrumming in a way it gets during a particularly good robbery. Like the diamonds are in her hand. Like she cracked the whole vault.

    Forever, she wants to say. For better or worse, forever.

    <>Eliot Spencer

    Eliot’s not an idiot. 

    Some people might argue different, and, to be fair, it has taken him a while to figure it out. 

    Sophie sends them a gift for their anniversary. It’s a painting, of course, and it probably could keep the Brew pub afloat for years if they sold it on the back market. Hardison hangs it in the apartment.

    Eliot…Eliot is aware he works here, both in the Pub and doing his real job. He sleeps here, too. As a matter of fact, he sleeps in their bed, and has for…well, since long before Nate and Sophie left. Pretending he was handling the Pub’s business was a good enough excuse to always be there.

    He kisses them, too, in that soft way they like, Hardison always overly affectionate and Parker letting down her walls enough to demand the affection she was denied so long. With any other friends it would be strange, or wrong, but not with them. It just…is.

    He loves them with his whole heart, will love them until his dying day, and that’s enough. 

    And then the painting comes. And then the painting comes addressed to them and their aliases, to not one, not two, but six married couples.

    Eliot blinks at it a bit, but doesn’t say anything, just uses the computer Hardison set him up on to search up those names.

    Pictures of them, doctored by Hardison, on honeymoons and anniversaries, romantic dinners and walks on the beach. Couples, just like Sophie said. 

    For better or worse, we change together.

    Eliot swallows, and goes shopping.

    Alec stares at the rings. “For…for Matthew and David? Or—“

    Eliot’s already shaking his head. “For Alec Hardison. And Parker. And me,” he clarifies. Eliot doesn’t get nervous anymore. That was beaten out of him long ago. Somehow, he still feels it, his heart seizing, waiting for its absolution. He could have read this wrong. They’re a team, the IDs are convenient, the words mean family and team too. They could want to get married. They could love him as they always have, and he could have ruined it, because they’ll never be convinced he’s okay with that again.

    He’s not convinced he’ll be okay with that again. He will be, for them, of course he will be when the alternative is being lost again, but— 

    Parker, he realizes, has already stolen the band from his hand, the one with the diamonds he knows she’d appreciate, and slid it on her left hand, studying it in the setting sunlight. “I like it.”

    Alec takes his own band, but doesn’t put it on. “No going back now,” he warns.

    Eliot slides the band on for him. “Haven’t you heard?” He says, and then has to stop a moment when Alec picks up the last band, then takes Eliot’s hand, “I’m in this for the rest of my life.”


    Librarians Prompt Month Day 7: A Headmaster’s First Task

    Part of the Librarians prompt month started by @the-librarians-prompt-month

    Hogwarts AU

    Professor Flynn Carsen, head of Ravenclaw house and deputy headmaster, could not believe his ears.

    “Youre retiring?” 

    Charlene nodded gravelly. “The recent scandal around the new muggle studies curriculum has many calling for my removal.”

    “Only because they’re backwards-minded, rich, snotty-“

    “Mr Carsen,” Charlene interrupted. 

    “It’s true!”

    “It’s besides the point. I stand by my decision, and that has forced me to retire.”

    “But right now?” Flynn asked. “After two professors have left?”

    “It was their decision that pushed the ministry’s decision to remove me,” Charlene said.

    “But that leaves me to fill two - no, three - different faculty positions!” Flynn argued. “Plus, I’m the only Ravenclaw on staff, so that’s another position! Four positions!” 

    “No, it doesn’t,” Charlene replied.

    Flynn flinched. “Are you saying I’m not going to be headmaster?”

    “Of course not. I’m saying I did my job, for you. I made a list, you just have to get them to agree.”

    Charlene handed Flynn a piece of paper, and he  quickly scanned the contents.

    “Ezekiel Jones?” Flynn questioned. “For care of magical creatures?”

    “Are you doubting me?” Charlene challenged.

    “No, no,” Flynn backtracked. “Of course not. I’m just - surprised, is all.” 

    “Good. Now go fill your staff, Professor Carsen.”

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    Librarians Prompt Month Day 5: Giants Fall

    Part of the Librarians prompt month started by @the-librarians-prompt-month

    cw: mentions/allusions of child abuse

    Honestly, Ezekiel was on the kid’s side.

    He wasn’t alone, either. Cassandra had already made the argument for leaving the artifact - David’s slingshot - with the boy. Jacob was, as usual, against leaving the powerful magical artifact with an eleven-year-old, but even his resolve was wavering. 

    After all, the kid’s parents were just awful.

    It wasn’t the first time that the librarians were sympathetic to the person unwittingly using magic, but it was the first time - at least, in Ezekiel’s experience - that taking that magic away would have such disastrous results.

    “This ain’t right,” Jacob summarized.

    “We can’t just leave that poor boy in that house,” Cassandra said. “Not without some kind of help.”

    “But we can’t leave the slingshot with him,” Jacob added. “I mean - what if someone else takes it from him? Like his parents?”

    “Jenkins said the slingshot only helps the underdogs,” Cassandra said. 

    “This is going to sound weird, coming from me,” Ezekiel started. “But isn’t there some kind of legal system to help him?” 

    “You’re right,” Jacob said. “That does sound weird coming from you.” 

    “I talked to his neighbors,” Cassandra said. “The cps already did an investigation. But they didn’t see any sign of abuse.” 

    “So now what?” Ezekiel asked. “We can’t leave the slingshot here, but we can’t take it either.”

    “I think we need to talk to Jenkins,” Jacob decided.


    “So what do you think we should do?” Cassandra asked.

    “Hmm,” Jenkins replied. “I understand why you are hesitant to retrieve the slingshot. However, I’d like to remind you that the slingshot can have devastating effects in the wrong hands.”

    “But if we take the slingshot, we’re taking away his only help,” Ezekiel argued.

    “That’s not true,” Jenkins replied. “He has you three, after all. You’ve been librarians for years, rarely relying on magic to do your jobs for you. You don’t need to the slingshot to help this poor boy, either.”

    “He’s right,” Jacob agreed. 

    “If we’re going to use magic, we have a whole library at our disposal,”

    Cassandra added. “Including several artifacts capable of revealing the truth. If we can somehow use them-“

    “We don’t need magic,” Jacob argued. “Remember when we were retrieving the flute the other day? Alexander works for the CPS, if we contact him, he might be able to help.”

    “We could always plant evidence,” Ezekiel added. 

    Jenkins watched as the three librarians brainstormed ideas together. They had this covered - all they needed was a little push.


    Ezekiel knocked lightly on the door frame and poked his head in the doorframe.

    “Can I come in?”

    The boy nodded, readjusting his position so that Ezekiel could sit next to him on the bed.

    “How are you?” Ezekiel asked, taking the spot on the bed.

    “Better,” the boy responded.

    He looked better, too. He was now being fostered by lovely couple Eve knew, far away from his parents and their unpleasantness. Ezekiel knew that Casandra and Jacob had both checked in, making sure that this new situation was truly better for him. 

    “What happened to the slingshot?” The boy asked. 

    “We put it someplace where it can’t be accessed by the wrong people,” Ezekiel explained. “Well, I can still access it, but I haven’t actually misused an artifact in what, two weeks?, so I think it’s safe.” 

    The boy giggled. “I’m glad. I’d hate to see someone like my parents use it.”

    “Don’t worry, we’re here to keep magic out of the hands of people like them,” Ezekiel replied. “We’ve been doing this for a while now, and I think we’ve gotten pretty good.”