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trivalentlinks · 2 years

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[On a post-canon job, where Quinn has for some reason joined the team]

Tags/Warnings: Eliot and kids, arguments, slight angst, not entirely a happy ending, mention of child abuse

as yet untitled, and also, *sigh*, no idea what i'm doing here, this idea just wouldn’t let go until i wrote it down. anyway, with apologies:

Eliot's supposed to be looking after the client, and he is; he's got an eye on her as she waits at a table in the cafe for her colleague. She's early for their meeting and sipping at her tea to give herself something to do.

Eliot's also keeping an eye on his surroundings though, and he can't help noticing the kid outside on the bench. She looks to be twelve or so.

Maybe a larger ten year old, going by the Saint Ignatius Primary School uniform.

She's studying, or trying to at least. She has a textbook on her lap.

She's also injured. That much is obvious. He can tell that her arm has been recently sprained from the way she's holding it, and she has a bruise on her cheek that's a few days old.

Could be from school yard fights, but the bruise looks like it was inflicted by someone taller and stronger than her, and she's already on the large side for a primary schooler. It's unlikely that an older teen who could've inflicted that bruise could wander an elementary school courtyard without being noticed.

Eliot can see that the client has also noticed the kid. She's been casting her glances, and he can tell that she's cataloguing the injuries as well.

Even as a busy, high-earning corporate lawyer--before she got fired for blowing the whistle on her employers--this client had a soft spot for kids and volunteered her time to advocate for foster children pro-bono.

The girl outside shifts, and tugs slightly at her uniform, and that's when he sees the bruises on her neck. They are recent and definitely made by the hands of an adult.

Eliot glances at the client. She looks back at him and he can tell that she has seen it, too.

"Quinn, can you come over and keep an eye on client?" Eliot asks over the comms. He knows Quinn is just out of view, but watching the situation over the security cameras.

"Sure," Quinn says. "Good call on that kid. She's definitely casing out the client. Might be working with a partner nearby."

"... What?" Eliot asks.

"The kid on the bench. The one who's pretending to be an abused kid to try to get to the client--to get the client to approach her."

Eliot frowns. "I usually appreciate the paranoia, but this is a little much, Quinn."

"Seriously? You think the uniform's a coincidence? Saint Ignatius Primary's on the other side of town. The uniform's to rule out schoolyard bullies as the cause of her injuries--you could imagine those injuries from a high schooler, but not an elementary schooler. It also makes her seem younger--she's at least twelve. Maybe thirteen."

That... does actually track with what Eliot had estimated before he noticed the words on the uniform.

"And look at how she slowly revealed more and more signs of the supposed abuse," Quinn continues. "You want the mark to be the only one to notice. That way, you pre-empt the bystander effect--if you're subtle enough, the mark will be convinced that they're the only one who can piece it together."

"So you're saying she did all that to herself? Those are adult sized hand-prints on her neck."

"She got one of her handlers to do those. Come on, Eliot, you're smarter than this," Quinn says. "Besides, what do you think that thing in her pocket is?"

"Could be an epi-pen or an insulin syringe," Eliot says, though he knows that particular pen syringe by shape, and it's one that's not often used for medical purposes and is far more preferred in... certain other circles.

Quinn must know that Eliot knows, too, because he huffs and doesn't even dignify that with a response.

Eliot doesn't want to believe Quinn's theory, but he must admit the possibility is troubling and there is a way to find out more.

Eliot takes out his phone and patches in Hardison's comm. "Hardison, I need you to look someone up for me. The kid on the bench by the cafe. I know you can see her through the camera."

"The kid? I swear, Eliot, if you're gonna turn off your comm and leave the job to go read some parent the riot act again--"

"What do you mean 'again'?" Quinn asks.

"Just tell me how long she's been going to Saint Ignatius Primary," Eliot growls.

There's a pause for a moment where all he hears are sporadic keystrokes.

"Huh, that's weird," Hardison says. "She doesn't go to school there... Or to any school in town. Either that or she's magically managed to avoid any and all security cameras at school. Could be homeschooled, I guess. Not sure what the uniform's about, though."

"Alright, thanks, Hardison, that's all I needed," Eliot says, before disconnecting.

Then, when it's only Quinn he's connected to, he adds, "You were right."

"Of course I was right," Quinn snaps, uncharacteristically short. "People who know they're observant and care about kids are the easiest marks when you're that age. Well, except pedophiles, I suppose--they're definitely easier."

Eliot closes his eyes, takes a breath, and decides not to think about any of that. "What do you think is gonna happen to this kid if she fails?"

"Probably nothing," Quinn says. "Not unless she's been making a habit of it. Or they have reason to think she failed on purpose."

"Probably?"

"Well I haven't exactly kept in touch with the organization I think is behind this. Didn't even know they were still around. If this is them."

"What would they do to her if she tries to leave?"

"She's not gonna try to leave," Quinn says. "The people she works for probably treat her better than anyone else ever has, even if they have her kill people or take beatings sometimes."

"She's just a kid, Quinn," Eliot says. "I have to believe that it's not too late, she doesn't have to be a cold-blooded killer, that there's something that could be done so that she doesn't turn out..."

"Like me?"

"Like us."

"We both know you meant like me, but thanks for trying."

"Okay, but I didn't mean it like that," Eliot says.

"It's okay, Eliot."

"I didn’t" Eliot insists. "I like you the way you are. I just don't want more kids to live that life."

Quinn sighs. "I know, darlin', it's alright. And anyway, I agree with you. I don't want her, or anyone else they're training, to turn out like me either. I just... don't think you're gonna talk her out of it."

Making a decision, Eliot stands up. "I have to try."

"Of course you do," Quinn says. "I'm on my way to the client."

"I'll check on the kid," Eliot says to the client as he passes her table. "Mr. Quinn will look after you. Stay here and don't go near the kid. It could be a trap."

The client gives Eliot a bewildered look but eventually shrugs. "You're the security expert."

Eliot approaches the kid carefully, sitting a safe distance from her on the bench. "Hey, kid, is the arm okay?"

The kid stares at him for a moment. "I'm fine."

"I'm sure you are. You look like you could hold your own in a fight. I bet you're doing better than the other guy, huh?"

The girl snorts, and then rolls her eyes, relaxing slightly.

"I'm Eliot. What's your name?"

"None of your business," the girl says. "I'm busy here."

"I'm sure you are. You know, you don't have to let yourself get hurt," Eliot says. "Whether it's at school or at home or anywhere else. There are people who can help you. I could--"

"I'm fine. And I certainly don't need or want your help."

Eliot raises an eyebrow at her. "Do you want hers?" He asks, gesturing at the client with his head. "'Cause you're not gettin' that."

That startles the kid, who turns to him more fully, one hand reaching into her pocket where the syringe is. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Hey, look, it's alright," Eliot said placatingly. "The people who set you up here, who did this to you, you don't have to work for them. I can help you get out. You don't have to be scared."

"I'm not scared--You have no idea what you're talking about."

Any response Eliot would have had to this is cut off by a commotion inside the cafe, and he turns to see Quinn in a fight with another hitter. This one is an adult, a woman probably in her twenties.

While Eliot is distracted, the kid makes a dash towards the cafe, presumably to help her partner or to take advantage of the chaos to get to the client. She almost gets past him, but he manages to grab her by the wrist before she does.

She whirls around towards him with a furious expression. In her free hand, she's holding the syringe pen, which she has uncapped, its needle glinting in the light.

The kid brings the syringe down to try to stab Eliot with it, but he deflects it, driving the device into the wall and breaking the needle against it.

"Please, I don't want to hurt you, kid, I'm trying to help," Eliot grits out as the kid struggles.

"Then fucking let go of me already," the kid yells.

"So you can go murder someone?"

In that moment, girl's partner seems to give up on the fight with Quinn and beats a hasty retreat out of the cafe.

"Help!" The kid starts yelling. "I don't know this man! Help!"

Eliot lets go of the kid and ignores the dirty looks he's getting from passer-bys as the kid flees after her partner.

When she's at the end of the block she turns back to look at Eliot, just for a moment, and Eliot's not sure what she's looking for or what she sees, but then the moment's over and the kid turns back around to run off.

"I'm sorry the thing with the kid didn't go the way you wanted," Quinn says late that night, after the job has been wrapped up and the threat against the client neutralized.

"I just wish I could've found the right words," Eliot says.

"There might not have been any," Quinn says gently.

"I know," Eliot says.

"The important thing is that you tried," Quinn says.

Eliot rolls his eyes.

Quinn snorts. "Okay, that sounded better in my head. I didn't mean it as a platitude. I meant that you know who she is now, and she knows where you stand. I asked some of my contacts. We may be able to find her, and if she ever does change her mind, you'll be there to catch her."

"If," Eliot says.

"You never know."

"I suppose not."

[End]

(yeah, like i said, i dunno, man. apologies.)

#eliot spencer #leverage #Mr quinn #random ficlet #what even is happening here #also: my first foray into present tense #it felt weird to write in though not sure if i like it

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