A/N – OK, so this story was written for the lovely rhiannon_celtic aka medie_shanachie, for her birthday. It's a surprise, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Rhi!
Hope the rest of you like it too, of course,
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"I am not a whore!"
The sudden outburst from the hallway outside Nate's apartment halted Sophie in mid sentence as she, Nate and Parker turned toward the door in anticipation. A moment later, a decidedly grumpier than usual looking Eliot stormed in, followed by an amused Hardison. Sophie and Parker stayed on the couch, observing. Nate stood from the armchair, only to hastily sit back down at a menacing glance from Eliot. Crossing his arms, Nate sat back and waited, his smirk firmly in place.
Eliot ignored them all and slammed to the refrigerator, grabbing a beer and plunking it down on the counter with a thud. He noted Parker's barely contained giggle and Sophie's quiet hushing. Hardison, who had been unusually silent, rolled his eyes and approached the angry hitter, from the illusion of safety of the other side of the kitchen counter.
"Ok, El. First of all, I called you a man-whore, not a whore..." Before he could continue he was interrupted by an irate Sophie.
"Hardison! That is such a sexist attitude! And a double standard! What? Men can sleep around and be awesome but women are considered whores? How is that fair!"
All four of the other team members stared at Sophie in shock. Hardison was the first to snap out of it, as he tried to explain what he had meant.
"I just mean Eliot was a man. And a whore. So, he's a man-whore. Not just a regular, you know what? This is coming out all wrong. I take the man whore back. Eliot's just a regular old whore. Everybody happy now?"
Sophie nodded, placated. Parker said nothing, but grinned widely as she noticed the visibly brewing anger coming from Eliot. Nate just sat back and crossed one leg over the other knee, watching.
Suddenly realizing what he had said, Hardison's eyes grew wide as he noticed the look on Parker's face.
"He's gonna kill me, ain't he?" He mumbled to the still grinning thief, who just nodded emphatically, positively giddy.
Eliot's growled voice came from behind him, but Hardison felt it in his bones, "I ain't gonna kill you, just gonna set ya straight."
"I'm straight! Straight as a, a, a really straight thing!" Hardison squeaked, backing slowly away from the counter, seating himself between Parker and Sophie on the couch, confident Eliot wouldn't hurt him there. Sophie, bless her heart, placed a hand protectively on his arm, addressing Eliot, "Play nice, now."
Eliot glared and stepped around the counter, stalking menacingly towards Hardison before he stopped suddenly. The others were surprised to see his entire demeanor change in an instant, as he looked at the trio on the couch with an expression that was the closest Eliot could come to earnest.
"You all really think I'm some kind of whore?"
Sophie's mouth dropped, causing Parker to giggle. Hardison just made a motion of zipping his lips, unwilling to say anything more. Parker finally stopped giggling long enough to respond,
"Well, you do sleep with a lot of random women. But you don't get paid for it or anything, so I guess you're not technically a whore. You just get around."
Eliot could actually feel Nate's head drop to his hands as he stifled his laughter from the chair behind him.
Anger rising again, Eliot couldn't help but lash out at Parker a little, "And what about you? Huh? Like you never go home with any strangers? Then jump out there windows before they wake up? You're so perfect, so pristine?"
Parker's smile dropped in an instant, eyes welling involuntarily. Eliot had never been so outright mean to her. She shrugged off Sophie's comforting arm, but let Hardison rub her hand gently.
"Eliot, man, that wasn't fair. She didn't have anything to do with this!" Hardison was nearly shouting at Eliot. He hated seeing Parker upset, especially if one of the team members caused it.
"Shit, Parker, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. Please don't cry." Eliot's voiced dropped to its usual lulling tone, but Parker glared up at him with shiny, angry eyes.
"You could never make me cry."
And before they could stop her, she was up and out the door, slamming it behind her.
Sophie stood, addressing Hardison briefly, "This is your fault you know. You shouldn't call Eliot names."
"Yes, mom," Hardison pouted, moving to go after Parker, only to be stopped by Sophie.
"You stay, get this resolved, I'll make sure she's ok," she suggested in a tone that held no actual suggestion.
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When the sound of Sophie's heels had disappeared down the hallway, the three men looked at each other awkwardly, ignoring the giant elephant, otherwise known as Eliot's whoredom, in the room. Still standing, Eliot turned to Nate, angry eyebrows in place.
"What about you, then? You think I'm a whore?"
Nate considered for a moment, thinking. "Why do you care what we think? Whoever you sleep with is your own business," he finally responded.
The question caught Eliot off-guard, and he seemed to deflate a little as he dropped onto the other chair, halfway between Nate and Hardison.
"I don't care," he insisted, "I just.. dammit Hardison! Why'd you have to go and say it anyway?!"
"Didn't think you'd get all pissy, man, sorry." Hardison raised his hands in defense, "Didn't think I could ever actually hurt your feelings."
Eliot blushed a deep red, though he'd never admit it, "You didn't hurt my feelings! I'm not some girl."
Nate sighed, the sound coming from years of experience and dashes of wisdom. "Of course he hurt your feelings, Eliot. Otherwise you wouldn't have gotten so upset. And Hardison, just because Eliot could kill us all with his pinky, it doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings."
Hardison nodded his understanding before addressing Eliot again, "Sorry, man. You're not a whore. I know you got your reasons, its none of my business.
"Damn straight," Eliot growled, but the menace was gone. Hardison took the almost pleasant demeanor as his chance to escape the awkward situation and, mumbling something about tracking down Parker and Sophie, made a speedy exit from the apartment.
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Eliot turned to Nate as the door clicked shut, "So what? You're Dr. Phil now? Gonna fix all our issues?"
Nate stared at Eliot for a long moment with such sadness that Eliot couldn't keep up the teasing even if he wanted to. "I've had a lot of time to think," Nate responded quietly, "It's getting better, but it's still hard. Being…"
"Sober?" Eliot suggested.
Nate laughed dryly, "I was going to say 'conscious' but yeah, sober works too. It's damn aggravating having to listen to myself all day."
Eliot snorted before they fell back into a only slightly uncomfortable silence.
"I do have reasons, you know," Eliot burst out before he could stop himself, "Fuck it, maybe I am a whore."
Nate shook his head, amazed that the other man could be so easily insecure, "You're not a whore. I've been in this business a long time, a lot longer than you. Maybe on the other side of it for most of the time, but I know it just as well as the bad guys, if not better. I've seen both sides, and neither side is a good place for loved ones with a man with your particular job description. Trust me, Eliot, I get it. You've got enough to worry about, keeping yourself and us safe. Relationships are just…
"Messy," Eliot interrupted, visions of girlfriends past running through his head.
"I was going to say dangerous," Nate responded, "But yeah,"
"Messy works," Eliot smirked.
"Messy works," Nate agreed.
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Eliot sighed as he realized what he had to do.
"Guess I should go and really apologize to Parker. Maybe help her steal something shiny." He stood wearily, stretching sore muscles.
Nate rolled his eyes, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you planning a non job related theft, and focus on the apologizing."
Eliot nodded, "Good plan. See ya."
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Nate dead bolted the door after Eliot, even though he knew it couldn't actually stop a single one of his rag tag band of thieves. He was surprised to find the thought didn't make his head hurt quite as much as it previously had. In fact, it almost made him smile.
THE END