Title: Falling for the First Time
Rating: PG-13 (minor swear words)
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the pretties, no harm or profit done.
Summary: While Parker does Sophie's job distracting the mark, Hardison and Eliot go to the roof to do the rappelling and things don't go quite according to plan.
Spoilers/Setting: Up to the finale. Set after the Iceman Job.
Author's Note: This started as a simple idea for a funny h/c fic and evolved into something quite long and hopefully enjoyable! I think I wrapped it up nicely but I could be persuaded to write more if people request it. Enjoy!

Hardison glared as Eliot casually double checked the straps wrapped around his body. It took a few moments for the hitter to notice the stare to which he demanded, "What?"

"Coward," Hardison mumbled unhappily as he tugged experimentally on the ropes around him.

"Excuse me?"

"If you ain't scared how come you're not in this harness?" Alec demanded, gesturing to the empty rooftop and equipment they had laid out.

"Because I've never rappelled before Hardison and I ain't about to try it for the first time without Parker here. You'll be fine. You did this alone last time didn't you?" Eliot questioned.

Alec gulped, "That building was shorter. We should really just wait for Parker, I'm only like 90% sure about all this equipment and when it comes to jumping off buildings ten percent is a pretty huge margin for error."

"Do you even listen to the briefings? Parker's keeping the mark busy at the bar and I really don't think you can pull off the dress she's wearing, so she's staying there and you're rappelling," Eliot argued, purposely not mentioning how Sophie's absence was causing them all to play different parts in cons.

"It ain't that hard man, I could show you," Hardison told him, his voice coming very close to the edge of begging.

"It wouldn't matter if you showed me, this is Parker's rig, it's only set to take so much weight. I'd drop like a brick and like it or not your body consists of zero muscle and fat, despite that junk food you pack away. You're the only man for the job Hardison," Eliot said with fake sympathy, secretly trying to cover up a smile at seeing the hacker's discomfort.

"Fine, okay," Hardison finally conceded, moving to the edge of the roof.

"You got everything?" Eliot asked to double check.

Hardison opened up the flap of the pouch on his belt to inventory, "Binary, glass cutter, harness remote, bugs and mini-cameras, we're all good."

Taking a deep breath Hardison stood on the edge, looked about ready to jump but then turned to Eliot at the last second, "Dude, if I die, will you bury me with my laptop?"

Eliot looked down at the forty-five story drop, "I doubt there'd be enough left to justify burying you. I'd probably have you cremated."

Hardison nodded, "That's fair. Okay, um, just a simple ceremony then. Use a nice picture of me for the memorial, there's some on my C Drive that are pretty good. All right, bye."

He stepped off with a scream. Eliot sighed, "Finally."

Leaning over the side Eliot watched the hacker fall the twenty stories it took to reach their mark's window where they had to plant the surveillance equipment. He fell fairly well, holding onto the line with both hands to keep him upright until the rope tugged and slowed him down. When Hardison stopped Eliot saw him take a minute to compose himself before he reached up to turn on his earpiece.

"All right, I'm … I'm pretty damn happy that's over," Hardison told him breathlessly.

Eliot looked out into the night that was never completely dark in a big city, "Just make it quick Hardison or someone's gonna see you."

The building was almost pure glass after all, with no brick sections or railings to hide under.

Hardison was taking the supplies out of his belt with one hand while he used his other to stay upright on the rope as the wind tried to knock him around, "I'm working on it, got a bit of an adrenaline high going on here if you don't … whoa! No, no, no, no! Oh shit."

Eliot squinted down to try to see what had Hardison so panicked, "Hardison? Is the place not empty? Did someone spot you?"

"No, I … I dropped most of my stuff. This pouch wasn't closed all the way or something and it's windy as hell down here. If someone's walking around down there I might have just killed them," Hardison replied nervously, desperately trying to make out the dark street below.

"Dammit Hardison!" Eliot growled, starting to regret not doing this himself. "Just get in there and we'll deal with it later."

"Um … I can't."

"What do you mean, can't?"

"I uh, dropped the glass cutter and the binary stuff, and I don't think I'm gonna be punching through this glass any time soon …" Hardison trailed off, embarrassed. "I can't get inside."

"Hardison!" Eliot growled from the roof, completely at a loss of what else to say.

"Don't you blame me, I told you it should be you down here! Then you'd be able to kung-fu this glass to death or something," Hardison pointed out.

Eliot took a deep breath and reminded himself that this really wasn't Hardison's usual job, "Fine, just get back up here then."

The line was silent for so long after that, that Eliot worried Hardison had dropped his earpiece too somehow, "Hardison? Hardison!"

"Yeah, I um … I'm stuck," he finally admitted softly.

Eliot hated his life, "What do you mean, stuck?"

"I … I dropped the remote that works the harness. It releases the latches and zips the line back up," Hardison explained.

"Is there only one?"

"I don't know," Hardison answered. "Parker might have another one somewhere but she's on the con, we can't call her."

"So what, do I got to press something up here?" Eliot asked.

"No uh no, there's no manual control for it up there. Parker designed this thing for a solo job, there'd be no point in having a switch up there if she was by herself," Hardison said, his voice getting tighter and more panicked by the second.

"So what do we do?"

"Uh, well, I think you could probably jerk the line free. That would lower me to the ground," Hardison suggested, working very hard to sound calm. Eliot was shaking his head though.

"There's only like ten more feet of rope left and you're twenty-five stories up."

"Oh really! I hadn't noticed," Hardison commented sarcastically, starting to freak out slightly.

"Don't need the attitude right now Hardison," Eliot growled.

"Okay, okay sorry. I uh, well, you're … you're gonna have to pull me back up then."

"You're twenty stories down!" Eliot exclaimed angrily. "That's gonna take forever!"

"Hey, you were just talking about how I hardly weigh anything! So stop whining and earn your title, come on!" Hardison pleaded.

"If you're trying to convince me to hit you when you're back up here then you're not gonna have to work too hard," Eliot told him through clenched teeth.

"Um, I meant you're "The Muscle", the muscle of the team so you know, use your muscles … please don't hit me," Hardison requested, still swinging in the wind twenty stories below and rather terrified.

"I'll consider it," Eliot hissed as he stood to brace himself against the railing in preparation of pulling the hacker up. He swore to himself for not wearing gloves when the rope almost immediately started to chafe his palms. "You ready?"

"Yes! Oh god yes! Please just get me out of here."

Eliot's anger lessened as he acknowledged the genuine fear in Hardison's voice. Hanging off a building with a job to do was one thing but hanging there stuck was something else entirely.

"Can you climb at all?" Eliot asked before he started, wanting all the help he could get. Sure he was strong but this was a long way to pull someone.

"Not unless I unknowingly got bit by a radioactive spider earlier. It's all glass man, I can't get a grip anywhere, sorry," Hardison apologized to which Eliot groaned in frustration.

"All right, settle in then, this'll take awhile," Eliot warned him, then put his foot up on the short brick railing to brace himself while he leaned back and started to haul Hardison up. The movements were choppy at first until Eliot found a rhythm in the way he breathed and switched his arms. Hardison held on tight, not enjoying the jerky motions but also not about to complain as each one brought him a little bit closer back to the wonderful safety of the roof.

"Thanks man, and by the way, I'm really sorry."

Eliot grunted in acknowledgement but didn't waste his breath on a response. Hardison was able to get his feet into the tiniest of footholds over the windowsills every second pull or so which took a little of his weight off the rope and asked, "Hey, does that help any man?"

"Yeah," Eliot hissed, groaning from exertion as his arms burned and his palms ached from gripping the thin rope. "Just don't break the rhythm."

"Okay, I gotcha," Hardison said, looking up to keep from staring down at the ground far, far below. "Rhythm, huh? What if I sang? Or counted? I'm gonna count man, help us keep our stride, like those dudes in the rowboats. Pull one, pull two. Pull one, pull two. Pull one, pull two. Pull…"

Eliot knew Hardison was just trying to distract himself but his eye twitched in annoyance nonetheless.

"Hardison."

"Yeah?"

"You don't shut up I'm gonna drop you."

Hardison shut his mouth but understood that it hadn't been a threat, just a warning. Hardison was only halfway up and Eliot already sounded exhausted, he had to be using all his concentration to keep going.

"Cool man, you just keep doing what you're doing," Hardison encouraged him as he tried to find his foothold on the next pull. He could tell by the mild slack in the line that Eliot rested briefly every time he managed to get some of his weight off the line, this time though a huge gust of wind knocked him sideways and he lost his hold.

"Whoa!" he yelled, flailing as he was completely pushed away from the building.

"Ugh," Eliot grunted at the sudden return of Hardison's full weight and then Hardison screamed again because now he was falling.

"Whoa! Eliot! Eliot!" he called out desperately and heard the hitter groaning in response. The rope had slipped from his hands and was burning his palms as it unwound in his grasp. Eliot had to twist his whole body to the side to put enough weight on the line to stop Hardison's descent. The hacker jerked and hit the building when he finally stopped, noting that he had dropped back down about three more stories.

Panting, he called up to the roof after a few moments, "Eliot? Everything okay up there man, cause I got some serious issues down here. About thirty-five stories of them."

"I'm good," Eliot replied tightly, trying not to curse from the pain of the rope burn and strain on his body. "I … I gotta tie the rope off and take a break."

Hardison's first instinct was to yell, "Hell no, get me the hell out of here!" but Eliot sounded so beat that instead he clenched his teeth and nodded, "That's cool. I get it. I'll just, stay here I guess."

Eliot actually chuckled for the first time all night as he pushed himself painfully into a standing position again and walked to a bar he could wrap the rope around while he rested. When he was sure the rope was secure the hitter collapsed onto the ground of the roof, arms held rigidly as his muscles protested this abuse. After breathing through the pain for a few seconds he inspected his hands – they were badly rope burnt and bleeding from where the rather thin wire had dug into his flesh. He resisted the urge to sigh - he had at least ten more stories to pull the hacker up.

"Hardison, can you climb up the rope at all, instead of the building?" Eliot asked eventually.

"Nah man, sorry, I tried. Rope's too damn thin and slippy, I can't get a grip," Hardison replied apologetically. Eliot nodded, he had noticed that too, that was how it had slipped out of his grasp in the first place and burnt him so badly. Grunting in annoyance he pulled off his jacket and then his t-shirt underneath and ripped the shirt into shreds. Just gripping the material was painful and he was not looking forward to pulling this rope anymore.

"Hardison, you can talk now if you want," Eliot offered, knowing the hacker would need a distraction.

"Cool, thanks. I um … I think I can see Nate's house," Hardison admitted, not actually sure what to say now that he had permission. "I don't know if yours is around though. Where do you live?"

Eliot was wrapping his hands in the t-shirt fabric and answered, "Got a place in town on Bayers for when you guys need me for jobs. My real house is outside the city though, you can't see it from here."

"I figured it was. Couldn't imagine you growing a whole lot of your own food any place here in town," Hardison answered. "Is it nice?"

"It's all right. You can come out sometime if you want," Eliot said off-hand.

"Seriously?" Hardison asked, truly surprised.

"Sure, why not?"

"It's just … I figured that was your private place, where you didn't want none of us to see or something. You never talk about it, didn't want to pry," Hardison admitted which made Eliot feel mildly guilty for being so closed off.

"Didn't mean to be secretive," he told him. "Just didn't figure you'd be all that interested. Don't have a TV or internet."

"Oh, well, it could be a short visit. I'd survive," Hardison replied, slightly put off by the idea of no technology.

"Speaking of which, you ready for round two?" Eliot asked, standing up now that his makeshift bandages were prepared. He just hoped he'd be able to grip the rope tight enough to pull the hacker up.

"Yeah, definitely," Hardison said eagerly, then added. "And thanks man, I know I really screwed this up."

"You get sentimental on me or try to hug me and I'm definitely going to leave you here," Eliot warned him, picking up the rope again.

"Understood," Hardison answered. "Just please get me out of here."

"Working on it," Eliot assured him, took a breath and pulled. The muscles of his arms hated him and the rope bit deeply into his palms causing deeper gouges than before, but Hardison was moving upward again. After five stories Eliot took another break, tied off the rope and promised to finish on his next attempt. He had just sat down to lean against the railing again when he was shocked by the sound of a door opening. According to the information Hardison had hacked the guards didn't patrol the roof and as a man stepped out from the shadows Eliot realized that Hardison had been right. They didn't patrol up here, apparently they only came up to smoke.

There was a cigarette dangling from the lips of the security guard in the doorway which dropped comically when he saw the hitter on the ground amidst a wide array of ropes, bags and pulleys.

"Hey, you! Freeze!" the guard demanded, fumbling for his gun out of surprise. It was the half second Eliot needed to jump to his feet and pull the weapon out of the man's hand before it ever fired.

"Eliot! What's going on?" Hardison asked from below. Eliot kneed the guard in the stomach and elbowed him across the face, knocking him out swiftly. "Eliot!"

"Yeah, a guard just came up for a smoke. Dammit, we've probably only got ten minutes before someone notices he's missing," Eliot surmised, jogging back towards the rope. He would have liked a longer break but he was going to have to manage somehow. "We gotta go."

"Whoa, okay," Hardison agreed as the rope tugged him upwards again with increased urgency. His feet were still finding footholds but his arms were outstretched now, begging to reach the top that was getting oh so close.

Eliot was grunting and swearing unabashedly as he pulled harder than ever, so much so that the muscles of his arms started to seize and he felt the rope cutting his hands down to the bone.

"So close Eliot, come on! Little more," Hardison encouraged him, his fingers almost able to grip the edge of the railing. Eliot grunted a final time and with one huge pull Hardison was over, gasping and shaking with relief and adrenaline. Eliot let himself fall to the ground and lay sprawled on his back as his body trembled from the over-exertion.

"Ground, how I love you," Hardison mumbled happily, cheek against the cement. "Wonderful, asphalt ground. Thank you, Eliot, seriously. I will never use a piñata again, I totally feel their pain. Eliot?"

The hitter wasn't responding, just breathing shakily as he tried to unwrap his hands from the curled position they seemed stuck in.

"Eliot?" Hardison asked, stumbling over on shaky legs. His eyes widened in shock when he saw what was wrong. "Jesus, your hands."

His fingers, palms and some of his wrists were rope burnt and bloody. The t-shirt bandages had shredded away and now there was black material imbedded deep into most of the wounds. Also, Eliot wasn't sure if he could move his fingers.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Hardison demanded, covering his guilt with anger as he tried to look at the damage better.

"What could you have done, thrown me a bandage?" Eliot shot back, pulling his hands back angrily as he slowly got to his feet. "Come on, we gotta go. Guards might be up soon looking for this guy."

"Yeah sure … um, are you gonna be okay?" he asked.

"I'll live, just … grab the stuff, will ya?" Eliot requested to which Hardison agreed quietly, picking up their supplies since Eliot clearly wouldn't be carrying anything. Eliot led the way, somehow ignoring the fact that he could barely move his arms, and managed to maneuver them past the guards, down the emergency stairwell and back down to the parking garage without incident. Hardison was panting from carrying so much equipment but was smart enough not to complain. When they got to Eliot's truck Hardison threw the bags in the back and cringed when he saw just how destroyed Eliot's hands were in the better light. He gulped away his guilt until they were home safe and quickly realized the hitter couldn't drive like that.

"Um, where are the keys?" Hardison asked.

"Left pocket," Eliot answered, lifting his arm so Hardison could reach into his jacket. The hacker pulled them out quickly, unlocked the truck and climbed into the driver's seat. He remained oblivious to Eliot's absence until the hitter pounded on the door with his elbow. Hardison looked up in shock and then smacked himself for his stupidity – Eliot couldn't open the door. Reaching across he pushed open the passenger side and watched as Eliot somehow slid in smoothly without using his arms or hands.

"Sorry man," Hardison mumbled but Eliot remained silent as he somehow closed the door with his elbow.

"Just drive," he said, cringing as he laid his hands down on his lap. They were an absolute mess with almost all the skin on his palms burnt, bloody or torn.

Hardison nodded and started to drive out then almost immediately pulled out his cell phone and speed dialed.

"Yeah Hardison, you guys done?" Nate asked in greeting when he picked up.

"Not quite, we hit a few snags," Hardison reported cryptically. "We're on our way to your place now. Can you get some bandages and antiseptic and stuff ready, Eliot's a little roughed up."

"How bad?" Nate asked, disconcerted that he hadn't heard the hitter's voice yet.

"Well it's just his hands and he's glaring at me now like he wants me to say it's no big deal but he's gonna need stitches, and that stuff you put on burns. Oh, and I know you don't got any so maybe you could run down to the bar and get him a drink," Hardison suggested.

"Yes!" Eliot agreed through a groan that came out when he tried to unclench his hands.

"Stop moving 'em!" Hardison demanded as he was getting stabbed with guilt every time the hitter flinched.

"They're my hands, I'll do what I want," Eliot argued.

Nate sighed, "All right, just bring it in, then you can tell me all about it. I'll be ready for you."

Then Nate hung up, shook his head and missed Sophie.

Eliot and Hardison didn't knock when they arrived twenty minutes later, they also didn't exactly approach with a great deal of stealth. Nate could hear them arguing as soon as they got off the elevator.

"There's nothing wrong with my feet!" Eliot exclaimed. "Stop trying to help me walk, just get the door."

Nate stood up and opened it long before they got there. Eliot came in first, hands held low and shielded as he walked, offering Nate only a head nod in acknowledgement.

"Eliot," he greeted the hitter who made a beeline for the kitchen.

Behind Hardison Nate saw another tenant walk by with a concerned expression on her face as she looked at the ground. Nate stopped the hacker in the door, "Did you guys leave blood in the hallway?"

"Yeah. Someone doesn't like it they can tell the landlord," Hardison suggested as he crept past and followed Eliot who he saw was trying to turn on the water faucet with his mangled fingers. "Here, let me."

Eliot growled in annoyance but then the water was suddenly on and running over his hands. He grunted in surprise as it stung the wounds it cleaned out but eased the pain of the burns.

"So what exactly did you …" Nate started talking before he had seen the extent of the damage done to Eliot's hands. "Oh god."

"It's not that bad," Eliot assured him, feeling better as the wounds were cleaned out.

"It looks pretty bad," Nate disagreed, then indicated the stools at the counter. "Come on, sit down."

Eliot did as instructed and kept his expression neutral as Nate looked at the cuts and then reached into the medkit for a pair of tweezers.

"I'm gonna take out the bits of fabric from the cuts first, okay?" he asked for Eliot's permission.

The hitter nodded, "Yeah, go ahead."

Nate was fully concentrated on Eliot's hands as he pulled out fabric and rope splinters but had to ask, "So what happened exactly?"

Eliot's answer was to glare at Hardison until he explained.

"I uh … I got stuck on the side of the building, like way down on the side. Eliot had to pull me back up," Hardison said. Nate lifted his eyebrows like that didn't explain much. "Well, there were a lot of extenuating circumstances too, like wind, and the rope was slippy and this guard showed up at one point and … damn, we never checked to see if I killed someone with that stuff I dropped. Anyway, the rope cut his hands up when he pulled me up, I guess."

Nate shook his head, pretty sure he didn't want to hear anymore but it did distract him from the gruesome task he was performing. As the tweezers dug surprisingly deep into a cut he felt himself get slightly nauseous, "Jesus Eliot, this one's almost to the bone."

"Yeah, just about," Eliot agreed, making a point himself not to look at the appendages. "You didn't happen to get me that drink did ya?"

"Fridge," Nate answered, tilting his head to Hardison.

"On it," Hardison said eagerly, moving towards the fridge to pull out a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Straight?"

"Yeah," Eliot affirmed, not needing his liquor watered down at the moment. He flinched when Nate had to dig out a deeply imbedded splinter from his thumb pad.

Hardison poured the drink and realized just before he set it down that Eliot wouldn't be able to lift it. Thinking fast he backtracked and opened a drawer to find a few loose straws which he shoved into the glass and then sat down next to Eliot.

"Thanks," Eliot mumbled, leaning forward and taking a long drag through the straw.

It was the kind of thing Hardison would usually pounce on to make fun of so when the hacker said nothing Eliot knew he had to turn around and talk to him. Sure enough Hardison was watching Nate pick the dirt out of Eliot's wounds with big, guilty eyes.

"Hey," Eliot called to get his attention. "I'm fine, this ain't your fault, all right? Could have happened to anyone, like you said, rappelling ain't your job."

Hardison nodded but still seemed unconvinced, "Thanks man, it's just hard not to feel bad. I'd still be dangling off the side of that building waiting for the cops to grab me if you hadn't pulled me up."

"If I can offer a suggestion," Nate interrupted without looking up.

"What do you got fearless leader," Hardison asked.

"Well, Eliot's not going to be able to do much over the next couple of days with his hands like this. If you really feel bad you could stay with him, help out," Nate suggested. Hardison's eyes widened, clearly thinking the plan was brilliant, while Eliot's angry gaze tried to burn a hole straight through Nate's body.

"Yeah, yeah, I could do that!" Hardison said excitedly. "You know, if you want me around. We can even go out to your place, I can live without a TV for a couple of days, help you out with anything involving the use of your digits. Well, if … if you want me there, that is."

Nate raised an eyebrow as he waited for Eliot to respond to Hardison's guilt-ridden, eagerly child-like pleas to help. Eliot growled internally because saying no would be like kicking a puppy who knows full well he did something wrong but cuddles up against you to try to apologize. Eliot forced a smile on his face and nodded.

"Sure man thanks. I guess I will have trouble doing stuff for a few days like this," he conceded honestly, flinching as Nate pulled out more bits of fabric.

"Okay great. I'm gonna go to my place and grab a few things while Nate patches you up and then I'll drive you home. Cool? Cool. Be back soon," Hardison promised cheerfully, eager to be of help.

When the hacker disappeared out the door, Eliot released the annoyed sigh he'd been holding in.

"Thanks," he told Nate sarcastically to which their leader shrugged unconcerned.

"He feels bad, and you will need some help with things, it makes sense. Just give him a few chores, it'll make him feel better," Nate suggested.

"He's gonna go crazy at my place. I don't own anything he can play with," Eliot pointed out.

"No Risk boards lying around?" Nate asked petulantly, enjoying Eliot's annoyance for some reason. Maybe Sophie was right and he was a bit sadistic. But Eliot just huffed.

"I'd demolish him."

"I think he might surprise you," Nate replied. "Next hand."

With Hardison gone Eliot finally let out a truly pain-filled growl as Nate dug into the lacerations on the next hand. He swallowed back the pain with another sip of Jack Daniels, which for the record should never be drank through a straw, and concentrated on not letting his hands shake while Nate worked on them.

"This is pretty serious," Nate commented. "How many stories did you pull him?"

"Twenty," Eliot hissed. "Twenty-three if you count the stories I dropped him and then had to pull him up again."

Nate fought back his smile as he was constantly amazed at what Eliot would do to keep the rest of the team safe. Eliot though was still thinking about having Hardison at his house with him for a few days, with no entertainment, bored and trying to take care of him.

"If I end up killing him it's gonna be your fault," Eliot said seriously. "I'm just saying, it wouldn't be unreasonable to start shopping around for a new hacker. I don't think he's gonna survive the week at my place."

Before Nate could answer his cell phone rang with Hardison's name popping up on the caller ID.

"Hardison, everything okay?" Nate asked seriously but it only took a moment for an amused light to fill his eyes as he listened to the hacker on the other end. "Just a second, I'll ask him."

"Ask me what?" Eliot demanded, not able to hear the other side of the conversation.

"Hardison's at the store," Nate informed him happily. "He wants to know what kind of ice cream you like."

Eliot started to open his mouth and then shut it quickly when he realized that that was pretty damn thoughtful of the hacker, "Butterscotch."

Nate relayed as much, hung up and then looked amused as Eliot hung his head down thoughtfully and was forced to admit, "All right, it might not be so bad. If he tries to geek up my house though it's over!"

Just then Nate's phone rang again. When he saw the caller-id he put it directly on speakerphone.

"How come I didn't get invited to Eliot's for the weekend?" Parker asked almost petulantly. "Is it a boy thing? I can be manly. Are you guys gonna be bonding or something? If you have a pillow fight can I watch?"

Eliot sighed and didn't miss the gleam in Nate's eyes that said he might be interested in coming along too.

"Pack your stuff Parker," Eliot told her eventually. "It looks like we're having a sleepover."

The end.

Hope you enjoyed! I miss the team already! Stupid hiatus.