Zee-Zee's Writings

Artist: Ultra-fic [here]
Title: Danger
Author: zeezeemagee
Beta: hahahaha! Yeah, all mistakes are mine and I apologize sincerely for them.
Disclaimer: I don't own otherwise I would have money right now and I really do not.
Characters/Pairings: Eliot/Parker-ish, Hardison/Parker, slight Nate/Sophie if you squint real hard and pay very close attention to one line only, Eliot/Moreau though techincally it's only mentioned and barely hinted at as anything besides business but it still totally counts.
Rating: T [because I am just that awesome]
Genre: Violence and General, Con and Heist, a little bit of angst
Warnings: Eliot whumpage and Parker whumpage, blood
Word Count: 18,945
Summary: Eliot’s in trouble and it’s up to Parker to save him. The only problem is that it isn’t her Eliot she’s saving. No, Parker somehow found a way to travel through time. (Who really knows how? It is Parker after all.) Now she has to keep Eliot alive so he can find his path to the team and manage not to change it completely. And she has to find her way back to her own time too. Somehow. She hasn’t quite figured out how yet. Surprises keep popping up in her way.

Livejournal link [here]
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
 

“Oh, I love flying,” Harry said, “It’s my favorite thing in the world. Last year for my birthday my Uncle Eliot took me for lessons.”

“Lessons?” Ron groaned, “That’s it. I’m moving in with your family, Harry. Mine would never give me lessons.”

“My parents usually wouldn’t either but it was a gift,” Harry shrugged, “My first time flying I nearly killed us both because I somehow managed to turn off the engine…”

“The engine?” Ron gasped, “What’s that?”

Harry frowned, “It’s a very important instrument in a plane…”

“A plane?” Ron shook his head, “What’s a plane?”

Now Harry was utterly confused.

“We’re going to flying lessons and you don’t know what a plane is?” He said.

This time it was Ron’s turn to roll his eyes.

“No Harry,” he said, “We don’t use planes.”

“What do you use?” Harry asked.

“Brooms.”

Nate pulled back his arrow and waited with baited breath as they began to play his song. His duty was to sink that arrow into President Snow the moment those four notes ended. Whatsername considered it quite a poetic achievement to have the notes he and Sophie used to communicate during the games. The District Thirteen president couldn’t wait to take over for President Snow in Nate’s opinion. The woman was dead set on punishing everyone for his crimes. And she would have it. They had voted on having the games happen after all.

“Her body is still getting used to the new attachments,” the man says, “You will have to wait to ask your questions until she is ready.”

“We can’t wait that long,” the woman’s voice howls. Her British accent came out thicker with her anger. Anger. That is what my new body is telling me is the harsh tone assaulting my ears. Seeker must be very upset to be so angry.

“There are more out there,” she continues, “We need to know where the resistance is now while her memories are still fresh in her mind!”