And I Just Cant Stop Thinking About It - Tumblr Posts
They don't talk about it.
But there's no way Nate should know those things. No way the client could have told him, no way he could've figured it out on his own. Not when these things were nothing more than fleeting thoughts from the mark. But Sophie notices him quietly go for the scotch behind the counter and rub at his head in pain with extra vehemence some days despite the latest con having no personal connection to him.
They don't talk about it.
But someone should've recognized Sophie on that con. There's no way she could have that many characters per con. No way none of those diplomats didn't recognize her from any of her previous cons. Not when she didn't change any more than her clothes and accent. But Nate notices her features seem to flicker at the peace and safety of home when she thinks he isn't watching.
They don't talk about it.
But no one could've survived that. And certainly not looking the way he does. There's no way he didn't come out of that fight broken and bloodied to all hell. Not when instead he walks out with a purposeful stride and only a clenched jaw, rolling his shoulders. But when he's cooking and accidentally burns himself, Parker notices the unmarked skin left behind.
They don't talk about it.
But not all vents are human sized. They all saw the size of the vent cover as she exists with a grin. There's no way she could've fit in there. Not when the human body can't bend that way, a way that even the greatest contortionist can't bend. But some days Hardison notices as she seems to stretch and bend before his eyes when she's feeling relaxed and safe enough.
They don't talk about it.
But that's not how computers work. There's no way Hardison could access that kind of thing. Not when he describes how he did it like that. Not when he does it so quickly like that. Not when he says he's taken berries and the next thing they know he's recreated a colonial era journal to perfection. But Eliot swore he shoved a glass of water at him, not more goddamn orange soda.
They don't talk about it, the thing lingering over their heads as they conduct each con, the unacknowledged thing between the five of them that's a little deeper than just a desire to take down the rich and powerful.
They aren't perfect, they all know that- sometimes they're too good with their covers, sometimes they have to shift gears as the con unfolds before them, but somehow things always seem to work out.
But no one asks about it, so-
They don't talk about it.