Author's Note: Another one? Already? I must love you guys. Yes, this is the fourth installment to the Eliot/Lindsey series I have going on here. For those of you new here, I would suggest reading One Day At A Time, Protectors Of Past, and Old Haunts before this. However, it isn't necessary if you don't want to.

Disclaimer: I only own Lindsey Spencer, and even her last name is stolen.

"God, Lin! What the hell did you do with my place?"

Lindsey looked up from her work, a small paintbrush poised in her hand. Her face was covered in little specs of paint and she was wearing one of Eliot's t-shirts over her tank top, both of which were covered in paint. The furniture was all pushed against the walls and covered by tarps, which were used as a resting place for a bunch of brushes and small cans of paint. There were several large diagrams spread out all over the floor and hanging from the walls, each of them showing a different angle of the same painting, along with different layers of the paint coloring and some even had enlarged sections of the painting showing how the strokes went. There was an easel set up in the middle of the floor with a large canvas. Only a small corner of the painting was complete, and Lindsey was sitting on one of Eliot's barstools from his kitchen, poised right in front of the easel. She gave an innocent smile to the man before setting the paint brush on the edge of the easel and standing up, wiping her hands on the shirt she was wearing, smearing even more paint across it. Eliot recognized the shirt and winced.

She laughed, walking toward him. "I have work to do too, you know."

He narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, ready to scold her. She cut him off with a finger to his lips, her other hand resting on her hips. "And if you would come apartment shopping with me, you wouldn't have to deal with me working in your living room."

Eliot couldn't say anything to that. Lindsey had been living with him for almost a month now, and his place had been packed. Originally the place was made for half a person. It was an efficiency apartment. The reason Eliot had bought it was because he didn't spend much time at home, he really only needed a place to sleep and sometimes eat. Most of the time he was freelancing, or on a job with his team. However, since Lindsey came to Portland, he had been turning down more freelance jobs in order to spend time with her. He spent more and more time in his small place, and it seemed to shrink every time he entered. His small closet, which was the most crowded area next to the kitchen, was now overflowing with two people's clothing in it. They had to get boxes to fold some clothes in for it all to fit. His bathroom sink had no more room on it, and there seemed to be no place to put anything anymore. Add all that up with the fact that Lindsey had a job that needed a lot of room, and she preferred to work at home, and his place just wasn't big enough. However, Eliot had kept coming up with reasons not to move.

He took a step back to escape Lindsey's finger and rolled his eyes, reaching his hand into the inside pocket of his leather jacket, pulling out a file and handing it to her. "Can you take a look at that? Nate wants your opinion about this job we're gonna take."

Lindsey raised her eyebrow at the obvious change in subject. She turned around and threw the folder on the ground. It landed on top of one of her diagrams of the painting she was working on, making a small thud as it hit the floor. She then turned back around to face Eliot, only to find that he had disappeared into the back room. Lindsey threw up her hands in annoyance and followed him.

"Why do you keep avoiding this?"

He turned to face her, throwing his jacket onto the ground and reaching for the hem of his shirt. "I ain't avoiding it."

Lindsey snorted and started to tick off her fingers. "First, you used safety as an excuse and I agreed with all of your paranoid rules. Then every time I made a date with the real estate agent, you had something more important to do."

"Now…" Eliot started, but Lindsey cut him off.

"I'm not done!" She said. "The one time you did come with me you never even walked inside any of the apartments! Can you please tell me the real reason why you don't want this?"

Eliot sighed, pulling off his tank top then searching around for a shirt to put on. Another glance at Lindsey reminded him that the shirt he had been looking for was another one of the ones that was currently covered in paint. He grabbed another one and pulled it over his head, running his hand through his hair before brushing past her and into the kitchen. Lindsey let out an angry puff and walked into the kitchen, hopping up on the counter because she knew that annoyed him. "Eliot."

"Lin." He reached into the fridge and pulled out a beer.

"Fine. I'll just go and find a place for myself then." She huffed and jumped off the counter, walking toward the front door. Eliot frowned and grabbed her left wrist, pulling her back into the kitchen. "Wait…just wait."

She smirked, glad that her little ruse worked. The man in front of her frowned and looked down at her left hand, his rough finger gently caressing the engagement ring. "I-I'm not ready yet."

Lindsey nodded. She understood. The man lived as a loner for most of his life, even their relationship before the past month was a no-strings-attached kind of deal. He could drop in whenever he wanted to, and pop right back out. If he didn't want to deal with her or needed to get away, all he had to do was walk out the door. If they bought a place together, he couldn't do that anymore. That freedom of no responsibility was enticing, and wasn't something that he was ready to do yet. She gave a forced laugh and stepped back. "Tired of me already?"

He shook his head. "No, it's just a lot to deal with."

Lindsey nodded. "How about this. Come and look at some places. We don't have to buy anything, and if we do, you can still keep this apartment in case you want to get away. Alright?"

Eliot thought about this for a moment. It seemed like a good deal. It wasn't the place that he was so attached to, it was his former lifestyle. "Fine. Now go look at that file, will ya? I'm supposed to call Nate."

Lindsey rolled her eyes and walked over to the living room, picking up the file, but not opening it. "I thought you and Ford got in some kind of fight?"

Eliot followed Lindsey, but doubled back to grab one of his barstools. All the places to sit down were taken by all of her forging stuff, and he didn't feel like standing up. Once he was situated, he answered her question. "Just cause we don't agree don't mean we can't work together."

Lindsey rolled her eyes and shrugged, opening the file. "What's the scoop?"

"It's all right there." He said, pointing to the papers inside of the file.

"I'm more of an audio learner." She retorted, causing Eliot to snort.

"Audio my ass." He mumbled, but explained it all the same. "The guy's name is Joseph Chester. He shows of some priceless artwork he just obtains, sells it to the highest bidder, and then swaps the real one for a fake right before the sale. Few years later, that same painting shows up on the other side of the world, and he sells it again."

Lindsey raised her eyebrows, using the file to fan herself. "Sweet scam. Reminds me of this forger I once knew." She paused. "You know who he gets to do the work?"

Eliot shrugged. "That's what Nate wanted you to look at." He gestured impatiently at the file. Lindsey got the hint and opened it, staring intensely at the pictures of the paintings that were lying in her hands. Her eyes stared at one spot on the photos for a moment before turning the page to look for another. For a few moments she did this, until a pattern started forming in her head. Then, she hopped off the barstool and looked around for a free space on the floor. Finding none, she rushed into the bedroom, where she laid out the pictures on the bed. Eliot came in and stood in the background watching her, trying to make sense of it all. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

About ten minutes past, neither of them saying a thing, the only sound was that of paper as it swished through the air as Lindsey arranged and re-arranged them. Then, she stood up, a bright look on her face. "Charlie's back!"

Eliot stared at her for a moment, a confused look on his face. "Who the hell is Charlie?"

Lindsey lay belly-up on the small twin bed in Eliot's room, closing her eyes as she heard the shower turn on in the even smaller bathroom connected to the bedroom. She had only been there a week, and already the place was too small to stand. Lindsey had found herself leaving early in the morning and not coming back until late at night, finding more and more stuff to do in order to stay away from the place. She didn't want to push Eliot into finding a new place, but she could swear she was becoming claustrophobic.

After only a few minutes, Lindsey was bored. She sat up on the bed and slid off, her feet making a dull thud as she hit the floor. She looked around, trying to find something to do. She zeroed in on the closet and shot a sneaky glance at the bathroom door before tiptoeing over to the area in question. She silently opened the closet door and pushed aside a few clothing items hung on hangers until she found what she was looking for: a square brown box.

She had seen the thing when she was integrating her clothing items that she had just bought with Eliot's pre-existing ones. Since all her belongings had been lost when her old place blew up, she had to go out and get new ones. It had taken a full day and Sophie's help, but she managed to walk out of the store with a lot of nice cloths. The money amount spent will not be disclosed.

Lindsey had been really curious about the box, but didn't ask Eliot about it. The thing had no markings, and barely looked like it had been open. Lindsey looked over her shoulder one more time before sitting down on the floor, dragging the box out of the closet and onto her lap. She slowly opened the flaps of the box, peeking inside to see what was hidden.

She gasped as she stared at the articles in the box. On the top, neatly folded, was a military uniform. Lindsey pulled out the top and gave a small smile as she read the name on the tag. 'Spencer.' The uniform was decorated with a few bars along with several other small patches that meant nothing to Lindsey. She refolded the uniform and reached into the box for more. Out came the pants to the uniform, which she gently placed aside. In the bottom of the box were a few pictures and a velvet container that was built to house medals. There was also a personnel file underneath it all. Lindsey ignored the file at first, focusing solely on the pictures. Eliot was in every single one of the, wearing his uniform and actually smiling at the camera. He was so young, not even in his twenties, Lindsey guessed. His hair was cut short military style, making it difficult to recognize him. But those eyes had the same determination and courage in them. The only thing missing was the darkness that loomed along the edges of his eyes, telling the watcher about the things the man had seen. She flipped through the old photo's, smiling at some, laughing at others. There was one where Eliot and a few other guys were having a contest to see who had the biggest muscles. She lingered a bit longer on that one before setting it too aside. The final two photos were the ones that hit her the most. The first one was Eliot and three other guys, all of which were in the other pictures. There were all in a line, shoulder to shoulder, different types of small arms in their hands. Lindsey was unable to identify what kind of guns they were, but she did know one thing. Eliot was holding one.

She was so engrossed in the picture that she didn't hear the water for the shower turn off, nor the sound of the bathroom door opening, or the near-silent footsteps of her husband as the man walked closer. "You could' a asked."

Lindsey jumped and quickly sat the photo's down, turned around to see Eliot standing not even five feet behind her. "I…I didn't think you wanted me to see."

Eliot narrowed his eyes as he ran one hand through his dripping wet hair. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, leaving the rest of his body bare. "So you look at it while I'm in the shower?"

Lindsey had to admit, it hadn't been the best of her ideas. She went to make another excuse, but Eliot shook his head, reaching into the closet to grab a pair of jeans. He disappeared back into the bathroom for a moment, and reappeared, this time jeans on his bottom half. He sat down on the floor next to Lindsey and picked up the picture where he was holding a firearm. "That there was my team. We were the best."

His eyes were clouded with past thoughts. Lindsey looked at the picture for a moment. "What did you do?"

Eliot gave a short, harsh laugh. "They called us 'retrieval specialists.' They sent us into hostage situations to retrieve back our comrades."

Lindsey gave a small laugh, understanding Eliot's slight sarcasm in his voice. "The title stuck, huh?"

"Damn right."

Lindsey paused before picking up the final picture. In it, Eliot was standing there in his uniform receiving a medal. The same case was in that picture that was sitting in the bottom of the box. But there was something different about the way he looked in this picture compared to all the others. That darkness. It was there.

"What happened?" Her voice was hesitant, almost scared to ask. Eliot closed his eyes and breathed a few times. "It was supposed to be a normal mission. Get in, get our guy, and get out. But somehow they knew we were coming. Bastards set up an ambush."

He paused for a moment. His voice was a whisper, and Lindsey had to lean in to hear his words. "I was the only one who made it out. And you want to know the worst thing? I could have saved them. Saved them all."

"How? How could you have stopped an ambush?" Lindsey tried to be supportive. She wanted to know why Eliot blamed himself, because she saw all the hurt and pain behind his eyes as he talked. "Cause I was the one who spotted the lookout. Could've taken him out with a single bullet."

Another pause. "I raised my gun, clicked off the safety. The guy spotted me; it was only seconds before he sounded the alarm. So I pulled the trigger…and nothing happened."

His voice started to break up, and Lindsey wasn't sure if the drops on his face were water from the shower or tears from his eyes. "It jammed. The damn gun jammed."

Eliot stood up and threw the pictures onto the ground violently before leaving the room. Lindsey heard him shuffle around for a few moments before slamming the front door, presumably going down to the gym. Lindsey sat there, shocked for a few moments, before making the move to pick the strewn out items up. She placed them back in the box, pausing as she saw a small glint of metal in the corner of the cardboard. She pulled at it, and found out that it was the beginning of a chain, attached to which were dog tags. She pulled them up close and read the letters pounded into the metal. 'Eliot Spencer. Retrieval Specialist.'

Lindsey gave a small smile and went to put the dog tags in the box. However, she changed her mind at the last second, and instead kept them in her hand as she closed the box and returned it to its original position in the closet. Lindsey walked back over to their bed, staring at the tags while she took the few short steps. Then, she leaned over and placed them on Eliot's nightstand before exiting the room, closing the door behind her.

She noticed when the tags disappeared from the nightstand. She also noticed when they reappeared around Eliot's neck.

"Charlie. That's what he went by almost a decade ago, before he disappeared." Lindsey explained to her audience. Eliot had driven the both of them over to Nate's place once Lindsey had made an extremely enthusiastic ID on their mark. Quick hello's had been made between Lindsey and the team, including Hardison making some snarky comment, Parker asking how Mr. Tibbles went, and Sophie filling the couple in on her preparations for their mini post-'marriage' celebration she was planning against Eliot's will. Once that was over with, the group migrated to the conference room, where Lindsey was filling them in.

"He is the best forger ever known, other than me, of course." She added the last half of the sentence as an afterthought, earning an eye roll from the hitter. "His style is similar to my own, only he liked more…eccentric masterpieces, to put it kindly. He specializes mostly in artwork. Tends to stay away from document, money, IDs, and other stuff like that. We worked a few jobs another lifetime ago, he'd paint the masterpieces, I'd make the documents to make hem legit. Wonderful thing."

"He's been living as Joseph Chester the past nine years. About the time you said this Charlie disappeared." Nate spoke up.

Lindsey nodded. "Yeah. I thought he got killed. Our last job didn't exactly go smoothly."

"Our?" Eliot grumbled, causing Hardison to laugh. "Jealous?"

The hitter went to make a remark about how easy it was for bones to break, but was stopped by a harsh look from Nathan. Lindsey smirked and continued. "This kind of scam seems like his thing. Showy, high risk, high reward."

"Sound's likes someone we know." Hardison kept pushing Eliot, giving him a snarky grin.

"Shut up Hardison." Eliot growled, unable to come up with anything more original.

"He's smart, clever, smooth, and knows what he wants." Lindsey finished, still talking about paintings.

Hardison couldn't resist one more jib. "Exactly what he wants."

"That's it." Eliot growled, closing the distance between him and the hacker in two steps. He grabbed the keyboard out of the man's hands and made the movement to break it over his knee. Hardison let out a very un-manly like squeak of horror.

"Stop it, both of you." Nate said firmly. Eliot huffed and threw the keyboard at Hardison, causing the man to jump. Lindsey held back a laugh as she dismissed herself from the front of the room.

Nate stood up and took his normal spot. "So we have a world class art forger on our hands who knows what he's doing. Sounds right up our alley." He turned to Lindsey. "We'll need your help on this one, I want you to introduce Sophie to Mr. Chester at an art auction he'll be at next week."

Lindsey's face broke out into a large grin. "I'd love to! Always wanted to be a part of your guy's team since Eliot told me about you."

Sophie smiled and stood up, taking Lindsey's arm with her hand. "Come on, I have so much to tell you!"

"Parker." Nate acknowledged the thief. "I want you and Hardison to do recon. I want to know everything there is to know about this auction and the building it's being held in. Also, Hardison, get Lindsey a cover story."

The two nodded and left to get to work, leaving only Eliot and Nate in the room. They stared at each other for a moment, the tension they had toward each other slowly rising to the surface. "I want to be in the same room as Lindsey this whole time."

Nate nodded slightly. "You won't go around half-cocked since she's you 'wife' will you?" He asked, a slight mocking tone in his voice.

Eliot narrowed his eyes. "You do your job, and I won't have to."

The man turned on his heels and walked out of the room before Nate had enough time to respond. He wanted to fix this little brawl he was having with the man, but he had more important things to do.

Taking down a world class art forger, for example.

So, what do you think? Worthy enough to be a sequel to Old Haunts? Hope so. Here you get a look into my reason why Eliot hates guns, along with some hints of apartment shopping fluffiness in the future, and wedding parties. All that, plus tension between team-mates, old flames, and...jealousy?

Reviews make me write faster. I will update as soon as I finish the next chapter.