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karmaschild) wrote2009-06-09 03:52 pm
karmaschild) wrote2009-06-09 03:52 pm
Entry tags:
"We are not using the Z word..."
Posted as a response to a prompt in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic, here:
Leverage, Eliot/Hardison, "We're not using the z-word!" (Shawn of the dead)
It was the middle of the night and the streets were empty. The only immediate sounds were the pounding feet, harsh breathing, and the grinding of Elliot's own teeth. In and out, Nate had said. Quick job, Nate had said. Superstitious old wives tales, Nate had said.
"Bullshit," Elliot said. For the hundredth time and didn't bother to look over at Hardison who was running beside him.
"Look. All I'm sayin' is that if it shuffles, moans, and bites like a z--"
"Don't say it!" Elliot growled as he abruptly changed course, grabbing a handful of Hardison's jacket sleeve and dragging the chattering computer specialist into a nearby department store. Fortunately, it was one of those 'super' variety stores that carried everything. The alarm didn't even sound when Elliot broke a window to let them in. Not a good sign.
" --ombie, then it probably is a zombie." Hardison prattled on.
Why did they separate? It was supposed to be a quick scam on some insurance company exploiting families wrecked by a recent hurricane. If it was so damn easy, why break up the team? The last thing Nate had said to them before breaking off communication was: Don't be bitten. Great.
"We are not using the z word, Hardison." Elliot shoved gear at him in an effort to shut him up.
Hardison finally focused on what was in his arms. A baseball bat, various food stuffs, and a machete. He blinked and then grinned slowly at Elliot. "You have a copy of The Handbook, don't you?"
"I have no such thing. Now, help me find the roof access."
comment_fic, here:Leverage, Eliot/Hardison, "We're not using the z-word!" (Shawn of the dead)
It was the middle of the night and the streets were empty. The only immediate sounds were the pounding feet, harsh breathing, and the grinding of Elliot's own teeth. In and out, Nate had said. Quick job, Nate had said. Superstitious old wives tales, Nate had said.
"Bullshit," Elliot said. For the hundredth time and didn't bother to look over at Hardison who was running beside him.
"Look. All I'm sayin' is that if it shuffles, moans, and bites like a z--"
"Don't say it!" Elliot growled as he abruptly changed course, grabbing a handful of Hardison's jacket sleeve and dragging the chattering computer specialist into a nearby department store. Fortunately, it was one of those 'super' variety stores that carried everything. The alarm didn't even sound when Elliot broke a window to let them in. Not a good sign.
" --ombie, then it probably is a zombie." Hardison prattled on.
Why did they separate? It was supposed to be a quick scam on some insurance company exploiting families wrecked by a recent hurricane. If it was so damn easy, why break up the team? The last thing Nate had said to them before breaking off communication was: Don't be bitten. Great.
"We are not using the z word, Hardison." Elliot shoved gear at him in an effort to shut him up.
Hardison finally focused on what was in his arms. A baseball bat, various food stuffs, and a machete. He blinked and then grinned slowly at Elliot. "You have a copy of The Handbook, don't you?"
"I have no such thing. Now, help me find the roof access."