This fic is dedicated to my amazing friend alyssaaa225, who had the genius idea after watching The 15 Minutes Job of "what if Parker needed to stab something for a job, but it was a wednesday?" Hahaha! This one's for you! ;)
"I'm almost there!" said Parker in an annoyed, hushed voice as she pulled herself through the ventilation system. Something she used to enjoy as a peaceful endeavor, but now, with everyone yelling at her, it was becoming just a little stressful. "Jeez."
"Parker," came Eliot's out of breath voice, and from his end of the comms, she could hear a thud, thud, crash as he dealt with the security guards that Hardison swore weren't working today. "Just hurry! If I have to kick the ass of ONE MORE damn-" His voice cut off, and Parker could hear the footsteps pounding from his end of the line. "Dammit, Hardison!"
"I'm sorry!" said Hardison, also out of breath, as he mentioned a few minutes ago that the guards he missed found him in their booth, and had been running from them since. "How many times I gotta say I'm sorry?"
Another thud from Eliot's side. "You're lucky-they're poorly-trained, Hardison!" Each pause in Eliot's words was filled with a thud of violence.
"Can you all keep it down?" came Sophie's hushed voice. "Some of us are trying to concentr-yes, I'd love a glass of wine, Mr. Taylor, thank you."
"Guys," said Nate, exasperatedly. "Can we please try not to completely let this job fall apart?"
"Well, Ms. Hadley," said the mark's voice from Sophie's line, "I'd love to, but I don't drink with criminals."
Parker screwed her eyes shut as each of the boys muttered a "dammit", but only Eliot's had a tacked on Hardison.
"I'm pinned down, Nate!" said Eliot.
"I've got Sophie," said Nate, and the sound of the van door slamming open.
Parker pulled herself along a few more inches, finally making it to the room she needed. Yes. She checked the room beneath the grate, but it was empty. The only thing in the room was a small table, and on the center, a set of chemicals that were concealed in an airtight, plastic casing.
Another thud sounded from the line, and Parker heard Nate's huffed breath, "Damn. Mr. Taylor's head is hard."
"You know," said Sophie, "I could have done that."
"Let's go," said Nate. "Are the rest of you getting out of here? Parker, did you grab the items?"
"I see them," she said. "At the room now."
"How much security does one research facility need?!" Eliot growled, followed by a lot more thuds and crashes.
Parker gracefully dropped herself into the room, picking up the plastic box, and starting to lift it, when she realized…
...it was bolted to the table.
"Um…" she said.
"What?" snapped four voices.
"It's kinda bolted to the table. I can't steal it."
A slight silence, save for Eliot's symphony of fight sounds.
"Okay," said Nate, and from the tone of his voice, Parker knew he'd just come up with a completely new plan in two seconds flat. "Okay, it's fine. We don't need it. We just need to destroy it before it gets into any more medications. Dr. Alley said in its raw form, it's destroyed when exposed to the air."
"Right!" said Hardison, followed by a slamming van door. "Parker, girl, you got something sharp with you?"
Parker shook her head. "No." She looked around, seeing the medical tools that gave her a little shiver. She picked up a scalpel. "But I do have a knife-thingie here."
"Great!" said Hardison. "Just stab a hole into the airtight box and get the hell out of there!"
"Okay," said Parker, holding it back to stab it forward, then froze. "Wait." She bit her lip. "I can't."
Another collective silence for all of a second, then Eliot's outraged voice, "Why the hell not?!"
"Because," said Parker. "It's Wednesday."
"So?" said Nate. "Parker this is no time to-"
"I can't break tradition," said Parker, feeling an increasingly conflicting feeling in her gut.
"Trad-" began Eliot, followed by another crash. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"It's Wednesday," said Parker simply. "I can't stab on Wednesdays."
Then, everyone was yelling at once.
"Parker, just do it!"
"What are you talking about?"
"This is no time for crazy!"
The last one was Hardison's small voice, quickly followed by Eliot's: "What the hell did you do, Hardison?"
"Parker," said Hardison, "that was a joke!"
"What was a joke?" demanded Nate.
"During the Reed Rockwell job, Parker was excited she didn't stab him and I… I said that No Stabbing Wednesdays was a new tradition."
"Parker!" growled Nate, another slam of the door. "It was a joke, now stab a hole in the damn thing and let's go!"
Parker's brows kneaded. "But not following this tradition is like not celebrating Christmas every year. It's tradition. You have to."
Eliot's enraged growl preceded another loud crash.
"Parker," said Sophie, "we need to leave! Just stab it and let's go!"
Parker looked at the knife.
She really didn't want to break tradition.
Another slam of the van door, and Eliot's angry voice, "Parker, if you don't stab a hole in that thing in FIVE SECONDS, I'm gonna-"
"Wait!" cried Hardison. "Parker, look at your phone!"
Parker pulled out her cell phone.
"It's Thursday, Parker!" said Hardison happily. "It's not Wednesday anymore!"
Parker smiled. "Yay!" She then proceeded to stab a hole into the airtight plastic, watching the items inside fizzle out and die.
She climbed back through the vents and out of the building, and ran back to the van.
She was greeted by two exasperated faces, one incredibly enraged face, and one happy one. Parker smiled at them all.
"No Stabbing Wednesdays!" said Hardison with a little clap. "Great job!"
Nate let out an exasperated breath as he climbed to the steering wheel.
"No more jobs on Wednesdays."