Eliot Spencer has a secret.
Eliot opened the door to his house, carelessly dropping his bag in the foyer. By the time he got to the living room, his jacket was off, and he flung it over the back of the couch. He then made his way to the bedroom and proceeded to remove his blood, sweat, and dirt stained clothes, choosing to leave them on the floor rather than walk the 10 feet or so to the laundry basket. Eliot was bruised, sore, and exhausted after the latest con, but he was still a little wound up and also (he sniffed himself) smelly.
One long, hot shower later, in his most comfortable pair of sweats, Eliot sat down on his couch with a glass of single malt and one of his favorite books, prepared for an evening of solitude and relaxation.
"What ya reading?" Eliot nearly jumped out of his seat, turning from his book and into the face of the team's expert thief.
"Jesus, Parker!" He exclaimed. "Where the hell did you come from?"
"The window," she replied, deftly snatching the book from his hand. Eliot immediately sprang after her, attempting to wrest the book from her grip, hopefully before Parker realized what was she was holding. "The Duke and Miss Denny? What is this?"
"First of all, the window?" Eliot asked, sighing. "Why can't you use the door like a normal person? Secondly, my choice of reading material is none of your business." Eliot made another grab for the book, but was again unsuccessful, as Parker proceeded to jump on various pieces of furniture until she reached the exposed rafters above. Confident that she was out of the reach of the hitter, she flipped the book over, her smile growing as she read the back cover.
"Eliot, is this a romance novel? Are you reading a romance novel?!" Parker asked, with glee.
"No," he stated firmly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"It is! Don't lie to me," she exclaimed.
"It is not," he declared.
"Oh, then what is it, Sparky?" Parker asked, her eyes twinkling.
"It's a Rmmmfcy." He mumbled.
"A what?"
"A Rennnfscy," he said, a little louder.
"What?!"
"A REGENCY!" He yelled, before checking to make sure nobody else had heard him. An unnecessary precaution, but he was feeling a bit sensitive about his biggest secret being exposed.
"Isn't that a kind of romance?" Parker inquired, her head tilting at the question.
"I'll have you know that a Regency is more than a romance. It is a celebration of the wit, elegance, and manners depicted in the widely popular books of Jane Austen. It's a very distinctive genre . . . of romance."
"Seriously?" Parker was incredulous.
"What? I am more than just a thug for hire, I'll have you know. Not only do I appreciate preparing and serving fine cuisine, but I also enjoy reading fine literature," Eliot retorted.
"Fine literature?" Parker asked. "If you were actually reading Jane Austen, I'd understand, but if I am correct, you are reading a romance . . ."
"Regency!" Eliot interrupted.
"Regency Romance written fairly recently, by someone named Joy Reed, that exists solely to mimic the style of Jane Austen. Not exactly fine literature."
"It's light, okay? It's light and funny and sweet and Regencies always have happy endings. No violence. No sex." He paused, taking a deep breath before resuming. "Sometimes, when the job gets hard and I like to escape to that world, is that so wrong?" Eliot looked up at Parker, challenging her to disagree with him.
"No..." Parker replied, frowning. Eliot took a deep breath.
"Good. Now, will you please get down from there and give me my book?" He asked, as calmly and politely as possible, given the circumstances.
"No."
"What do you mean, No?" Eliot was appalled.
"I want to read it. And then I want to share it with the rest of the group." Parker was back to smiling now, with a particularly devious expression on her face.
"Absolutely not!" Eliot was back to yelling at the infuriating thief.
"I think the rest of the group would love to see your softer side," she retorted, teasingly.
"I don't want them to see my softer side!" Eliot yelled, as he started climbing the furniture to get to at Parker.
"Why not?" Parker asked, crawling away from him on the beam. She might be quicker, but Eliot was definitely stronger. She new she had to be smart if she wanted to stay ahead of him.
"They'll lose all respect for me!" Eliot finally reached the beam and began to make his way across to her.
"No they won't . . ." Parker retorted, just as Eliot came within grabbing distance. Parker immediately jumped across to another exposed beam in the ceiling of the house. She flashed him her biggest smile yet as Eliot growled at her.
"Parker give me that book, right now!" He prepared to jump over to her.
"I will under one condition," Parker replied. Startled by her acquiescence, Eliot paused.
"What?" He asked, cautious.
"I want you to read it to me." Parker watched Eliot roll his eyes before sighing loudly.
"Will you promise not to tell the rest of the group about it if do?" Parker nodded, before deftly jumping and swinging her way back down to floor. Eliot followed, albeit a bit more slowly.
Once down, he held out his hand to Parker. She paused, silently questioning his intentions, but at last decided to give him the book. "Come on then." Eliot snatched the book from her and walked around the sofa. He was not at all surprised to feel Parker jumping over the back of couch and landing softly right next to where he was just sitting down. He took a sip of his scotch, before opening the book to the first page.
As he read the opening sentences in the novel, he felt Parker curl up on the couch and lean on his arm. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that she was smiling and, encouraged, he continue to read aloud from his favorite story, wrapping his arm around her as she snuggled closer.
Eliot sighed. First, he was caught reading romances and now, he definitely cuddling with his annoying teammate. He decided right then that, while Parker may know his secret, he was going to do whatever it would take to keep the rest of the team from finding out about this side of him, even if he had to read Regencies, out loud, to Parker, every day for the rest of his life. He tried to think of that as a hardship.