blue_bells: (Leverage :: Nathan Ford)
[personal profile] blue_bells
» Title: Morning Call
» Fandom: Leverage
» Warnings: AU
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Nathan Ford, Sophie Devereaux, Eliot, Parker, Hardison
» Summary: Wherein Team Leverage are a rock band and keep digressing in their rehearsals.
» A/N: Originally written here for [livejournal.com profile] ziplockeddaze in [livejournal.com profile] comment_fic.


“It’s Sterling.”

Nate dragged his eyes from the wood panelled ceiling to the cell phone Sophie held out for him across the suede couch. Haggard as he was, dragged out of bed at stupid o’clock, Nate regarded the phone and considered how much interest he could spare for their manager before his coffee had kicked in.

Sophie raised an eyebrow when Nate simply sniffed and blinked at her. Eventually, she huffed a knowing smile and brought the phone back to her ear.

“Nate’s indisposed, Sterling, but I can pass on any message –“ Sophie paused, fingers trailing through the ash blonde streak of her fringe. She paused to cover the mouthpiece and glanced at her partner. “He wants to know if you’ve been drinking again.”

Nate snorted a laugh under his breath and reclined, arms thrown over the back of the couch.

“Wish I had.”

“Did you hear that?” Sophie hummed and a flurry of motion drew their attention to the far side of the function room that had been fitted for their gig that evening.

Nate wasn’t sure how the carpet would play off the acoustics, but Sophie and her bare feet seemed to be enjoying it.

At the side entrance, Parker and Hardison staggered into the hall wheeling one of the four sound and light command booths that piggy-backed Hardison’s electric drum kit. Parker’s face was pulled tight in concentration, but then Hardison peered around the tall box, lips moving, and Parker laughed in a burst of bright relief.

“Uh-huh… yeah,” Sophie frowned as she watched them, only half hearing Sterling’s advice on the change of venue for their gig in New Orleans. Nate could see the moment Sophie lost the battle to leave them be, shoulders sagging before she pressed fingers over the mouthpiece again.

“No, Parker, that work’s not for you, darling; you’ll ruin the manicure -- Hardison?”

Parker and Hardison both looked back as Sophie waved them down with the phone. Parker’s arms were clamped around the sides of her wheeled booth and she looked at pains to let go even though there was no danger of it falling over.

“No, never mind the roadies. Hardison, where’s Eliot? Parker could throw her back and everyone would wonder why our bassist was performing her solo from a wheelchair,” Sophie called, in that lilting tone of scolding that never failed to sweep them into action.

It was no wonder Sterling always called Sophie first these days.

Eliot jogged in from the side entrance and made a beeline for his band mates at the base of the stage. Hardison raised his nose expectantly and Parker pulled her best pout of contempt.

“Sorry I’m late. Had a… thing.”

Nate shut his eyes with a contented sigh as a new conversation erupted and he must have drifted off because in the next moment he was startled awake by the double bass of Hardison’s drum solo.

He blinked and rubbed the heel of a hand to his eyes, noting he was alone on the couch.

When his vision cleared, he looked ahead to the stage where Hardison was bent over his drum kit, hands a blur. Sophie looked almost doubled over in hysterics at the adjacent electric keyboard because Parker was sidling back and forth in front with her bass guitar, bumping into Eliot at every opportunity as he battled through his lead guitar solo.

The solo was choppy, they were all dropping notes, Sophie even missed the return to the vocals bridge because she was laughing outright once Eliot snickered and tangled Parker’s leg with his to stop her interference.

The drums abruptly silenced as Hardison rapped his sticks together and called for order down in front.

“Nate! Come on, brother, that’s enough sleepin’; band needs your voice! And you two, don’t make me get up there all in your business, ‘cause you know I will. Eliot, you can come sit by me if you won’t behave.”

Eliot predictably sputtered. “Me?”

Nate laughed under his breath and climbed to his feet, stretching out the kinks in his back.

This was worth getting up for, at any hour.
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November 2012

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