Zinke's Reading Room

Title: Don't Look a Gift Thief in the Mouth
Author: Zinke
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Parker, Nate Ford, Alec Hardison, Eliot Spencer, Sophie Deveraux. No pairings, just totally platonic teamy goodness.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing. No infringement intended.

Author's Notes: This fic is completely Aldis Hodge's fault. Also hannasus. And possibly phdelicious and gabolange. Long story short, Aldis Hodge posted this on his Twitter account, after which there ensued a cractastic conversation about how that tweet was just asking to be ficafied. The rest, as they say, is history. And it is history of a sort, because is my first (and possibly only) illustrated fic. That's right, this sucker comes complete with (optional) visual aids. You have been warned.

Thanks to gabolange for the read through.

* * * *

"Parker, what is this?"

Unphased by Nate's sour tone, a beaming Parker thrusts a brightly colored gift bag into his hands. "Presents."

"Dare I ask: what's the occasion?" Sophie asks as she's handed her own pink polka-dotted bag.

Parker merely shrugs and continues doling out gifts. “You and Nate got the rest of us stuff.”

Eliot accepts his gift gingerly, eyeing it as if it's about to explode. "It was Christmas, Parker.”

“Who says she needs an occasion?” Hardison beams at Parker as she drops a foil bag on the table in front of him. “If you ask me, you all could use some cheering up.”

Sophie frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No more arguing!” Parker proclaims, slapping her palm against her thigh. Once she’s certain she has everyone attention, she pulls a final gift bag from the duffle on the floor and joins the rest at the table.

“Wait.” Eliot does a quick count. “Who’s that one for?”

Parker gives him a quizzical look. “Me.”

“You bought yourself a present?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘bought’ exactly…”

Nate groans.

“What’s wrong with that?” Sophie eyes him incredulously. “Giving gifts is all well and good, but it’s only natural to want to treat yourself to something nice as well.”

“Not if it means we’re going to have Boston's finest busting in here to arrest her for shoplifting.”

“It’s Parker,” Hardison notes, glancing pointedly in her direction. They all turn to find her rummaging through Nate’s wallet. He makes a grab for the worn leather billfold, which Parker deftly avoids.

“Right.” Nate sighs and rubs his hands together. “Who wants to go first?”

“I do!” Parker tosses the wallet back to Nate and dives in.

The rest of them watch with a mixture of amusement and disbelief as she empties the bag, clearing away the tufts of tissue paper to reveal a pair of vibrant yellow and black striped bedroom slippers.

“Are those--?”

“Bees! See?” She turns the slippers around to reveal a pair of smiling bee heads, each adorned with a pair of springy antennae topped with a sparkling plastic jewel.

“Gee, Parker. Those are…” Nate visibly struggles for a moment. “Really something.”

“I know!” Kicking off her shoes, Parker slips the bees onto her feet and flicks the left’s wobbly antennae. “They even have wings!” She adds, pointing to her heel.

Hardison winces. “Anatomically speaking? That is just wrong.”

"So...who's next?" Nate asks brightly, rubbing his hands together.

"Why don't we all open them together?" Sophie suggests when no one volunteers.

Parker nods enthusiastically and, after an exchange of looks varying from aphrehensive to hostile, the rest of the team reaches for their gifts and dive in.

“Oh Parker,” Sophie says, pulling a pair of garish pink slippers festooned with appliqué daisies from her bag, “You shouldn’t have.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Beaming, Hardison shoves his hands into a pair of furry bear paw slippers. He admires them for a moment, then makes a swiping motion at Eliot. “Rowr.”

Smacking Hardison's hand out of the way, Eliot turns to give the red slippers in Nate's hand an approving once-over. “I didn’t know you were a ‘Husker.”

“I’m not.”

Parker points at the blocky white letter embroidered across the toe. “It’s an ‘N’. For ‘Nate’. And you still haven't opened yours, Eliot,” she adds with a disapproving frown.

Nate smirks and reaches for the glass of scotch sitting at his elbow. “Yeah, Eliot. No cheating.”

Eliot glowers across the table at Nate for a beat. “Fine,” he grumbles, snatching the gift from the table. There's a flurry of tissue paper, followed by a moment of absolute stillness as Eliot peers into the bag at what his teammate's gotten for him. "Thanks, Parker," he says, forcing a smile as he takes the edge of the bag in his fist and pulls it into his lap.

Hardison shakes her head. "Uh-uh, no way. Quid pro quo, man."

"Hardison's right, Eliot." Nate gives the other man a cocky grin. "Fair is fair. Let's see it."

Eliot locks gazes with Nate, his expression murderous as he slowly pulls a pair of plush white tiger slippers from the bag and sets them on the table.

For the next few seconds, the only sound in the room is that of Hardison trying - and failing - to suppress his laughter.

"You like 'em so much, you have 'em," Eliot spits out, shoving the offending footwear in the hacker's direction.

“Do I look like Siegfried or Roy to you?”

Glaring at Eliot, Sophie elbows Hardison in the ribs and casts a less-than-surreptitious glance at Parker. "Be nice," she admonishes.

"I am!" he exclaims. "Can I help it if Parker considers me to be the more bearishly badass of the two of us?"

"Are you kidding?" Parker snorts. "Eliot could snap you in half like a twig. Those were the only ones I could find in your size.” She cocks her head and considers him a moment. “You have really big feet.”

“I—do not,” Hardison counters, looking suddenly self-conscious.

Eliot ducks his head under the table for a look. "Yes, you do."

"Yeah, well...you know what they say about guys with big feet, don't you?"

"No," Parker replies innocently. "What?"

"Yeah, Hardison," Nate adds, "What?"

Hardison's gaze bounces from one amused face to the next before finally landing on Parker. She stares back at him, her expression one of eager curiosity. "Uh, big feet big...appetite. Who wants some cheese doodles?" he asks before jumping off his stool and making his escape into the kitchen.



*fin.*