That stubborn ass FBI agent with the accent think enough to rival Eliot's own was about as stubborn as a mule, and damn if Eliot hadn't actually been scared for just a second when the Fed's lips had curled upward and that drawl got slower.
So if anyone asked, that's what he had dropped off the grid. What happened after of course was of no consequence and certainly never to be repeated.
How exactly he'd ended up pressing the bowlegged stranger who'd been hustling him up against the wall was truly a question for the ages, but he smirked as those green eyes widened in shock. "Tell me why I shouldn't kick your ass," Eliot took note of the hand gun tucked in the kid's waistband and the giant tree trunk of a partner. The kid wouldn't risk firing the thing in a crowded bar, and well, his partner looked resigned to watching him get turned into mince meat.
"Cos I'm just so damn cute?"
The kid was cocky, it was almost adorable. Eliot leaned well into his personal space, his hair falling into the kid's face. He felt him stiffen up but he wasn't pushing him away. Laughing now Eliot pressed the heel of his palm against the kid's crotch. "You think so?"
"Y-yeah." Eliot rested his forehead against the kid's and smiled.
"Y'know, you should be more careful. One day you're going to hustle the wrong man kid."
Green eyes' mouth gaped open. Eliot cupped the side of his face in one hand, the other snaking into the kid's pocket. Money successfully recovered he should have left it at that. He stroked the kid's growing erection through his jeans and snarled, "You want me to fuck you?"
"Too fucking bad kid." Eliot stepped back and stuffed the money back in his pocket as he walked away.
Tree boy was laughing like an idiot. Eliot had to bite down on the inside of his lip to keep from laughing his self.
"Shut up Sammy!"
"Shit Dean! You should see your face!"
Watching him hack into the FBI's database shouldn't be so hot. Timothy McGee is the poster boy for computer geeks, pale, slightly less chiseled than you'd think anyone with Special Agent status would be and completely awkward.
McGee blinks, a lot, more than any normal person, but then Sam thinks if he spent that much time staring at a computer screen he would too. His mouth forms a perfect O, his eyes widening as he's realized the answer they were looking for was right there the whole time.
Sammy pulls McGee out of his chair because the answer will still be there in the morning when Dean and DiNozzo get back to the Navy Yard. Right now Sam's carefully removing McGee's tie. It's going to be awkward and fumbling, like two teenagers in the backseat but it's going to be hot and sweet all at once and exactly what they both need right now.
And if Sammy happens to suck McGee off on DiNozzo's desk that's just revenge for research geeks everywhere.
When a cocky asshole with a Southern accent breaks into the Hyperion Angel rolls his eyes and sighs. "Seriously Lindsey, I don't have time for..." Tiny Texan, asshole lawyer, puppet boy, of all the things Angel could think to call Lindsey McDonald (and he had a list at least two pages long beside his bed) scruffy would never have been one of them. Which meant either the world had started spinning backwards (he doubted that since he still didn't have a pulse) OR there was a doppelganger of his (it was a good thing he didn't have to breathe because he was about to start laughing... a lot) arch nemesis.
Not-Lindsey cocked an eyebrow and Angel lost it.
"Seriously? Someone breaks into your place and you just laugh like a mental patient? There is something wrong with you man." The Not-Lindsey shook his head. "Look, just... Just gimme the damn magic pouch or whatever and I'll get out of your hair."
He shrugged. "I dunno man, they just hired me to get some magic pouch. Oh, and to hurt you." The resemblance to Lindsey was even stronger when he looked eager to hurt Angel.
Angel smirked. "You're welcome to try."
Oh and everyone needs to read these, [SPN/Leverage] Parker/Castiel & [Leverage/Keenan & Kel] Alec/Kel. I honestly didn't expect anyone to take my prompts and run with them, much less write any thing so CLASSIC!