"Hold on!" Parker heard Hardison shout. A second later, Parker was jerked against her seatbelt from the impact of the SUV against the sedan's bumper.

In the driver's seat, Hardison was putting as much weight on the brakes as he could, trying to keep their car from hitting the railing. The flimsy barrier that was the only thing between them and a 20 foot plunge into the Atlantic Ocean. Their sedan skidded to a stop two feet from the railing.

Parker turned in her seat to look behind her. The SUV had backed up and was preparing to ram into them again.

"Get us out of here, Hardison."

"I'm trying!"

Hardison tried to put the car in reverse, but before he had the chance, Parker was jerked against the seatbelt again as the SUV hit them. The railing crumpled ridiculously easy as their car hit it, and a second later they were free falling, the nose of the car angling sharply downward as it plummeted towards the water.

Time seemed to almost shudder to a stop while they were airborne. Parker's stomach did a little flip like it had done so many times when she jumped off a building, in the fraction of a second before the rope caught and tethered her to the earth again.

There was no rope to stop this fall, only cold, gray water.

Parker felt the impact with the water as a huge jolt. Her limbs went flying. Her head flew forward, her chin hit her sternum, and she bit down hard on her tongue.

Parker sat stunned for a few seconds while the car began to rapidly sink. As she tried to catch her breath, she began to take stock of her body.

Her neck was quite sore from whiplash, but it didn't seem serious. Her tongue was swollen and painful. She tasted blood in her mouth and realized she might have bitten off a chunk of it. Her left arm was throbbing; it had come down hard on the dashboard. Everything else seemed to be in working order.

She looked over at her lanky companion. His head was angled to the side, resting against the driver's side window. He wasn't moving.

Did he hit his head? Bad, that was bad.

"Hardison?" she said around the blood filling her mouth.

He didn't stir.

"Hardison!"

His chest was rising and falling, but otherwise he was completely still.

Parker realized her feet were wet. She looked down, water was coming in fast, it was already up to her ankles.

Parker's stomach starting doing flips again. She took a deep breath and waited for the logical side of her brain to take over. She had been in precarious situations before, mostly before she joined the team. After the initial surge of adrenaline she always subconsciously slipped into survival mode. Without even telling it to her mind would cycle through the options and pick the best actions to get her out of peril. It was how she had stayed alive on her own for so long.

But her brain wasn't calming her down, her heart was pounding in her ears and her mind kept shifting back to Hardison. Her instincts were at war with her brain. Every muscle in her body was tensed to flee, to escape, and to save herself.

But she wasn't alone. It wasn't just her life on the line. She couldn't silently slip away and escape like she used to, Hardison would die.

After one more moment of hesitation, she unhooked her seatbelt and shifted up next to him.

"Hardison, I need you to wake up," she said and reached up to touched his cheek, wincing as she remembered too late that her arm was injured. The water was almost up to their knees inside the car, and she could see from the rear window that they were completely submerged.

How long did it take a car to fill up with water? At the rate it was going, probably less than three minutes.

"Alec, please," her voice caught on the last word. She didn't know how she was going to get him out of there if he was unconscious, he had at least seventy pounds on her.

He still wasn't moving.

Parker flashed back to the job in Dubai a little over a month ago, when her frustration had boiled over at trying to match Livingston's gait in those awful boots.

"You're not alone anymore," he had said. "Look, look at me."

She remembered the feel of his hands on her face as he had turned her to look at him.

"You're not alone. You're not, you have a team. You have me. And I got you. I got you, girl."

She looked at his unconscious face, so much more serious than how it usually was when he we was awake and goofing off, or pushing Eliot's buttons.

"I got you," she said, looking at him.

Her survival brain took over then, assessing how to get both of them out alive.

Seatbelt first. She reached over unhooked his seatbelt, pulling his arm through to free it.

Secure an exit. She knew the door would be under too much pressure to open. She tried the button to lower the window even though she knew the water had most likely shorted out the electronics. She was right.

Break the window. She leaned back until her head was in Hardison's lap. It would be almost romantic if her head wasn't also half submerged in cold water. She brought her feet up to her chest and kicked against the window repeatedly as hard as she could. She kicked three times total. It had little to no effect other than to make her feet hurt.

Assess your surroundings. She sat up, glancing around to see what she had to work with. She didn't have any of her gear with her, and Hardison's stuff was all in the trunk, along with a tire iron probably, which would have been perfect to break the window with. This was a stolen car, she had no idea what the owner had in here.

She opened the glove compartment. Maps, insurance information, owner's manual. She shuffled the papers out of the way. A gun. She gave a little whoop of joy and pulled the revolver out of the glove compartment. It was loaded.

"We're getting out of here, Hardison."

The water started to fill the glove compartment, the papers floating on the surface of the water towards her. The car had reached the seabed at this point, although it was still tilted forward with the weight of the engine. She was a little glad that Hardison was unconscious through this, she knew that being in a car filling up with water would be torture for someone with Claustrophobia. It was unsettling even to her.

Parker knew breaking the window would make the car fill up rapidly. Hardison would be a lot lighter and easier to lift under water.

She placed the gun on the dashboard to keep it dry. With a great heave she managed to get Hardison partially out of his seat. The back of his head was leaning against her chest. She contemplated for a moment if it would be better to hold him with her bad arm and paddle with her good arm or the other way around. Either way was going to hurt.

She weaved her uninjured right arm under his arm and wrapped it around his chest, she just managed to reach her hand under his other armpit.

She reached across grabbed the gun off the dash. It felt awkward in her left hand, but she only needed to make one point-blank shot.

She raised her left arm up over her head and pointed it at the window.

"Here we go."

Parker took a deep breath in, and fired.

The loud bang from the gun was followed quickly by the sound of breaking glass, and soon they were surrounded by rushing water. Hardison became instantly lighter as the water surrounded them. Parker didn't wait, she dropped the gun, ducked underwater and began to pull them through the window.

They wouldn't both fit at the same time. Parker realized that as she smacked Hardison's head against the door. Moving quickly, she slipped out of the car first and reached through to grab his arms. She maneuvered him through the window as quickly as she could, turning him slightly when his foot caught on something, and then he was through.

She gripped him around his chest again and pushed off from the roof of the car as hard as she could. Paddling with her left arm was painful, but not unbearable. She kicked as hard as she could. Lighter though he was, Hardison still dragged on her like a dead weight.

She was afraid that he would breathe in the water since he was unconscious. She needed to get him to the surface as soon as possible. Her own lungs were burning.

They were eight feet away, she kicked harder and harder. Five feet. Three. Parker thought she felt Hardison stir, but she couldn't be sure.

Two more kicks and they were at the surface. Parker took a big gulp of air into her lungs. She then checked that Hardison's face was out of the water. She had felt him stir. His eyes were opening and he was starting to cough.

"Hey, can you hear me?" she asked. She was struggling to keep them both afloat. "Can you float on your back for me?"

He didn't seem entirely lucid.

They were pretty close to the edge of the pier but there was no way to climb up the concrete embankment. They would have to swim approximately 20 yards to reach a ladder they could climb up on. Correction, she would have to swim. Hardison seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness.

She shifted a little and began to kick, her injured arm slowly pulling them through the water. Every few strokes or so she would lose momentum and Hardison would slip under the water. She would have to kick extra hard to bring him back up and he would sputter and choke.

"You. Are. Too. Muscular." she said to him between kicks. "You suck at floating."

Seriously, a little fat on him would make this whole thing a lot easier.

Her left arm hurt. Her right arm burned from straining to hold him, and her legs were on fire.

"P-Parker . . .?" she heard him say weakly. "Where are we?"

"Where do you think? We're in the ocean, silly."

"What?"

She felt him start to struggle against her.

"Hey, it's okay, stay still," she said. "I got you."

He stopped struggling and she began to kick again.

"Although, if you could kick your legs a little, that would be a big help."

He mumbled something she didn't catch, but he started to kick a little, helping their progress.

Just when Parker thought she wouldn't be able to swim anymore, her feet touched the bottom. Thank God, she thought. She towed Hardison on his back the remaining ten feet. He seemed to be more lucid, she noticed with relief. He stood up when they reached the ladder.

"Are you okay?" she asked, clutching his arm when he swayed a little.

"Dizzy."

"Do you think you can get up the ladder? I want to get us out of this water."

It looked to be about eight feet up.

He nodded and started up the ladder. He stumbled on the first couple of rungs, but managed to make slow progress. Parker followed behind, climbing with one hand to give her aching left arm a rest. He disappeared over the top. Parker ascended the last couple of rungs and stepped onto the concrete.

Hardison was sprawled on his back with his limbs splayed out, soaking wet and breathing heavily. Parker collapsed on her back next to him. The last of the adrenaline had drained out of her, and with it, most of her energy. She turned her head to the side and spit out a mouthful of blood.

"What happened?" Hardison asked next to her.

"You don't remember the car getting pushed into the water?"

"No. Did you save me?"

"Yeah, I totally did," she said proudly.

"I wish I remembered."

They weren't out of the woods yet. Parker rolled over so she was on top of him. He smiled and instinctively wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm not flirting with you, silly," she said. "I think you have a concussion."

She wiggled out of his arms and started running her hands down his legs, looking for any other obvious injuries. She moved up to his abdomen and pressed against his ribs.

"Does that hurt?"

His face cracked into a smile again.

"Tickles."

"Does your neck hurt?" she asked looking down at him.

"Just my head."

He wrapped his arms around her again.

"You're weirder than normal when you're concussed," she said.

"Kiss me."

"We are both freezing-cold and sopping-wet, it would be like kissing a fish," she said.

"But I'm a sexy fish."

Parker couldn't help but smile.

"You're bleeding," he said, frowning. His hand came up to touch her lip. His hand was freezing, and she noticed that he was severely shivering. She was shivering too.

"I just bit my tongue, I'm fine," she said. "I have to go flag down a car, since I'm assuming our cell phones no longer work."

Hardison reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone which was remarkably still working.

"This baby's waterproof."

"Perfect," she said, grabbing the phone from him. She disentangled herself from him again and stood up.

There were five missed calls from Eliot. Without hesitation Parker dialed him back.

"Hey, it's me," she said as soon as she heard Eliot pick up.

"Where the hell have you two been, Parker? We were just about to activate the GPS on his phone to come find you."

Parker filled him in on what happened, pausing occasionally to let Eliot finish cursing.

"Why did you take your earbuds out?"

"I'm sorry!" she said defensively, "We thought we were done. We were about to go grab some lunch."

Eliot grumbled something incoherent in response.

"Should I go out and flag a cab to get us to the hospital?" she asked.

"No," Eliot said. "Calvert's goons might still be in the area. Are you badly hurt?"

"Hardison has a concussion, probably," she said. "But he's awake and talking, and mostly making sense, so I don't think it's too serious."

"And you?"

"Broken arm, I think. That's all."

She thought she heard him give a sigh of relief.

"Okay," he said, businesslike, "I need you two to stay hidden and stay together. I'm on my way right now. I'll track your location and be there in fifteen minutes. Got it?"

"Got it."

"And Parker?"

"Yeah?"

"Good job getting you both out of that car."

"Thanks," she said, beaming.

She hung up and turned back to Hardison. He had sat up and had his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

"How are you doing?" she asked him and went to sit beside him.

"I think I'm going to yak."

She didn't know what to do to make him feel better, so she started rubbing his back. That's what normal people do, right?

"Well, if you wait fifteen minutes you can throw up in Eliot's car."