The feels from the Spy's Goodbye in Agents of Shield. I couldn't think of a better person to make it his own.
It was innocuous to most. A filled shot glass being placed on the table in front of her by the waiter. From a friend, they said. But all of the sudden her chest tightened. And she knew.
Parker didn't have to look up to know where the glass came from. She's been seeing the signs of what was coming. He's been pulling away more, shutting down the access that they used to share so easily with each other. Deep in the recesses of her mind she's been expecting this. She's been pushing the notion away because it couldn't be. He wouldn't. But then again dreading was a far cry from the crushing reality of what stood in front of her.
She felt something heavy slide down her cheek as her eyes began to blur.
She didn't want this.
Parker was never one for talking and emotions. To the point where people just sometimes assumed that she did not have any, but she does. Really she does. She's just been burned far too often to consider it a good thing. So she keeps everything tucked inside. Hidden and only for a few people to see.
He's the exact same.
But over the years she's allowed herself to open up again. To trust. Maybe even to love. Or at least to attempt to. She's loved Sophie and Nate as a mixture between doting parents and older siblings. Even when they left they still stayed close to her heart, because she knew that they would come back in an instant when she needs them.
And then there was Hardison. She felt strongly for him. Maybe even loved him. If that was what love felt like. He always made her feel normal. And that's a good thing. Right? Being normal is good. Foster parents wanted normal children. It used to be her only goal. Being normal means no one will look at you like there was something deeply wrong with you. Normal is good because it means that you're accepted. You're appreciated.
She's always wanted to be normal and Hardison gave her that. And for that experience she would always be grateful.
She pulled her hands away from the table and pushed her chair away, trying to put herself as far away from the offending glass as possible without hopefully drawing too much attention.
But him? He always just understood her. Took her as what she was. Accepted her and all her faults. He never tried to change her.
She was crazy. She threw her chips at the table for the rush, maybe it's called reckless. She was Parker. And she trusted him above all else to catch her. In every sense of the way. And he was fine with that.
Because he was crazy too. He went all in against all odds despite the danger, people say he's brave. He was Eliot. And apparently he's gotten too tired of catching her and having to let her go. And if she took this shot he'll release her one last time and she'll never catch wind of him again.
She raised her head to meet his gaze, never having to search the room because she never had to work on where to find him. She just always knew where he was. She had always been drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And despite that fact she was never afraid of getting burned. Not with him.
He was sitting across the bar, his eyes boring into hers, a careful mask on his face. He was raising his own shot glass inconspicuously. On anyone else he appeared the casual, indifferent drinker, but Parker could see his hand's slight tremble as he tried to keep a hold on his composure.
A parting shot was what he called it. A final toast for words left unsaid and distance that has to be kept. She wasn't surprised of his intimate knowledge with this. Because in their business, his branch especially, with associates that are spies and high ranking military personnel, sometimes there's really too much risk to be seen with another person. Sometimes there's too much risk to getting too close for that one last time before finally letting go.
She steeled herself and grasped the glass, she didn't have long before Hardison returned from the bathroom. Eliot was the brave one. Not her. She was reckless. She threw her cards to the wind and let them flutter around and land where they may.
But she made her choice. And whether or not it was the right one was still up in the air waiting to land. So she took a few deep breaths, trying to get her chest to loosen up, before raising the glass and downing the shot at the same time he did. As the liquid burned a path down her throat she started to mentally close up her mind and her heart, willing herself not to feel the pain that was emanating from deep within her.
They stood still for the moment, letting the brevity of what happened settle, but then she blinked and he was gone.
Parker lived in absolutes. It was easier than having emotions stain everything gray.
The writing is a little raw. Sorry about that. But I went with emotion more so that elucubration on this one.
