Work Text:
There’s protocol for leaving a job, of course. Sophie and Nate can leave together because they’re faces with established identities. They’ll have to shake any possible tails, but they’re professionals, and it’ll be done quickly enough.
Parker and Hardison’s ride is with Eliot, but they can also leave on their own. Parker often stays with Hardison for his post-job duties, which continue long after the job ends – wiping databases, using AI to go through security footage. Sometimes Parker watches. Sometimes she naps.
She hovers nearby after the job at the high school reunion, long after Eliot’s gone home to sleep (no one really expects to see Sophie or Nate after this job – after that dance, they’re probably furtively talking on some shadowy pier about their old lives and their new lives). But today, she seems to have something on her mind.
The best thing to do in that kind of situation is wait. Hardison knows this. Luckily, he has plenty to do. It’s dark in this room, except for the blue light of the screen. It has the same effect that fireplaces do, Hardison supposes. It makes everything feel much safer, a good time for discussing things that are actually on your mind.
“Sophie doesn’t like to touch people,” says Parker.
Hardison raises an eyebrow but keeps typing. Sometimes she feels better when she’s not the sole focus of his attention, when she’s talking to work something out, like she is now.
“People think Sophie likes to touch people, because she’s so warm and people-y. But it’s because she’s so warm and people-y at work that she doesn’t like to touch people. She needs days off.”
“I hadn’t noticed that,” says Hardison, with a side glance at Parker. His system’s basically just running automated scans now, and he doesn’t really need to be looking at his screen, but he looks back at it so Parker has the space to go on.
“And that whole thing with Eliot today – and the NLP on the mark. Sometimes touch is a weapon for Sophie,” says Parker. “And maybe that’s also why she doesn’t really like to be touched by people she doesn’t really trust – and even then, it’s like she has to be open to it. Kind of like when you are sometimes not open to being talked to while you’re playing with your elf and orc people.”
“WoW,” says Hardison automatically, because this is a classic script with them now. A comfortable one, one that they can go back to in times like this when Parker is probably trying to tell him something important (he’s just not sure what it is yet).
“Yes, that. So Sophie knows that touch can be a weapon, and that’s also why she doesn’t like to be touched. Because what if someone uses that weapon on her? Like with a mark or in public, it’s one thing, because she’s in control there. But in private, it’s very different.”
Hardison considers. “Because it’s also about control.”
“Yes!” says Parker, like he’s hit on the key to the whole thing.
Parker’s actually very perceptive about people, when you get down to it. “So that’s how you knew what she was doing with Eliot - because she doesn’t normally touch people.”
“Most of the time, she doesn’t like it. Even if it’s Nate. Like they’re off-balance now. But if they were in balance, it wouldn’t happen very often. It’s a work/life balance thing.”
Hardison nods, because he’s starting to see the shape of what she’s getting at. “What about you?” he asks. “Do you feel like you need things to have work/life balance?”
“Nah,” says Parker, leaning forward on her elbows on the table. “My work is fine. But when Sophie touches people, they have these expectations, and I think maybe if I touched people…they wouldn’t have the same expectations, but they’d have expectations all the same. So I don’t know.”
Hardison turns away from his screen. “Well, if you talked about them, maybe it would be easier to figure out the expectations?”
Parker doesn’t look away, but she doesn’t say anything either.
“Like,” he says, his chest only fluttering a little (just a little), “take the dance we did earlier.”
“Oh yes,” says Parker, hunching her shoulders, “the dance earlier. That thing.”
“When you said we could dance, I thought that meant we could dance. And then after, you know, no expectations, really. Just that we finish the job.”
“I liked the dance,” says Parker.
Flutter. And it’s his turn to pretend to be casual. “Oh. That’s good.”
“I like touching. I think there could be more touching. In private.”
“Okay.”
“As long as it’s not secretly coded to mean anything else.”
Hardison nods. “Okay. Like a dance is a dance.”
“A dance is a dance.”
“And a lean is a lean,” he says, pantomiming a lean toward Parker’s shoulder that doesn’t actually touch her.
“A lean is a lean.”
“But a dance doesn’t necessarily mean that a lean is coming after.”
Parker looks relieved. “Yes.” She folds her arms in front of her. “Um, do you think that would be alright? Because I don’t always know how I feel about touching that leads to other touching.”
Hardison gently dodges the part of his brain that lights up at how she’s been thinking about this kind of thing, working it out for herself, and as always, welcomes how Parker tends to be pretty forthcoming with her needs when she’s ready. It’s another thing that he admires about her, a thing that people can’t always tell is a thing for her unless they really know how to watch and listen. “Of course.”
“I mean, do you feel like you’d need touching that goes into other touching?”
If Hardison could, he’d tell her that all he really wants is some form of this – them working together, with the blue light of screens in the dark, sharing a bowl of snacks. The kind of warmth that comes from that kind of interaction that Hardison just knows , in his gut, he’s never going to replicate in any other place.
Because there’s no one like Parker. He's always known that.
“I think,” says Hardison slowly, “that I like when people feel comfortable, or are doing things to try to get to that place. And what you said just now sounds very comfortable to me.”
There’s a singular, fantastic moment when, when Parker beams at him, light by the shadowy blue screen light. And she’s just radiant.
“Parker?”
“Yeah?”
“I liked the dance too."
They spend the rest of the evening in comfortable silence.