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What, was "Rudy" on cable last night?

. . . Yes.

75 Godiva Street, Wednesday afternoon
Eliot tended to travel light. He had a go-bag packed into his truck by the causeway, and nearly just went straight there after his little conversation with the new shop owner. But he had a couple extra responsibilities, these days, so he swung by his house on his way out, to lock things up (not that this would stop Parker) and turn off any unnecessary electronics (which quite possibly wouldn't stop Hardison). Val trotted after him as he made his rounds, and when he ended up back at the front door without petting her, started to whine pitifully. Eliot looked down at her, frowned, then crouched down to rub her ears. He pulled out his phone, made a quick call, then for reasons even he would be at a loss to explain, turned the phone off and tossed it into the umbrella stand. He had a burner in the go-bag, anyway.

"Hey," he told Val. "I gotta go for a bit, okay? But Hardison and Parker, they'll take good care of you." He winked at her, then rubbed her ears a little more, grinning. "Maybe when you're full-grown, I'll take ya with me, huh? Bet you'd like that. A real adventure."

God, he felt good. He'd missed running his own jobs.

"Be good, little Valentine." He leaned forward and kissed her on the head, enduring the slobbery puppy kisses in return. "I'll be back by the weekend."

Geneva, Switzerland, late Thursday night (local time)
In which Eliot beats the crap out of Sterling. Again.Collapse )

[ooc: for him -- and let's be honest, potentially her -- on the other end of the phone.]