A/N – Ok y'all. This is something a little different. Kinda half Leverage fic, half original story, based loosely on Steve Carlson's song "Ballad of Denim Boy and Grey Girl." Because, yes, I am a sap. But anyway, I had fun writing this, please give it a shot. Thanks 

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"Whose idea was this stupid thing anyway?"

She turned at the voice, coming face to face with sparkling blue eyes. "That would be my sister, actually," she took a step back to get a better look at the stranger's face.

Dirty blond hair fell into his eyes as he ducked his head with embarrassment, "Oh. Sorry." He grinned up at her sheepishly and she couldn't help but laugh.

"It's ok," she sighed, shivering even in her long grey coat, "A backyard party in the middle of winter isn't the brightest idea she's ever had. But you know… family obligation and all that…"

He laughed dryly, "Yeah, I know a little about that," he stuck out his hand, "I'm Owen."

She grabbed his bare hand between her gloved hands and pressed tight, warming as best she could. She smiled, "Layla."

"Wanna tell me why we're in the middle of, wherever the hell we are, just one more time?" Eliot stared at Parker expectantly, his eyebrows set in annoyed stance.

Parker's eyes lit up, "We're in Danvers. And we're looking for money. Lots and lots of pretty green money, all for the taking. We just have to find it."

"Hold right there," Eliot pulled Parker to a stop from their brisk walk down the crowded city sidewalk, ignoring the mutterings of annoyed pedestrians. "When you called me, after vanishing without a trace, by the way, but we'll deal with that later, you told me there was a job down here you didn't want to tell the others about. So, I figure it's probably a little outside the law for Nate's moral compass, and that's fine. But now you're telling me we're just looking for lots of 'pretty money' and there is and never was a damn job at all?"

"Wow," Parker blinked slowly, "I don't think I've ever heard you say so much at once."

Eliot just sighed.

Owen found himself grinning even wider as Layla suggested they take a walk near the woods. He was never one for poetry or love songs, but he couldn't help but think of how pretty her long brown hair shone in the moonlight. She caught him staring, but just smiled back shyly, and he ducked his head again as he followed her path. They settled inches apart, beneath a giant tree, thankful there wasn't snow on the ground just yet.

"So, you go to school?" Owen said after the silence stretched on a little too long.

Layla shook her head, staring straight ahead, "No. I graduated last year, but didn't make it to college."

"I remember you!" Owen burst out suddenly as he pieced it together, "You were a year behind me, but I remember you. You had like a 4.0, how did you not end up at college? Your sister was a year ahead of me, and she went to UMass right?"

"She did," Layla confirmed, a definite edge to her voice, "But she dropped out last year."

"But why? I mean it doesn't make any sense, I…" Owen's tirade halted as he remembered. "Oh," he said quietly, "Your mom died last year. Sorry, I should've remembered that."

Layla's eyes were shiny when she turned to look at him and Owen had never felt more like scum than he did at that moment. "My dad, he's great. He tries really hard, but even with me and Roxie both working; there just wasn't enough money for school. Scholarships only go so far. Even before mom…" she took a deep breath, "Even before, money was tight. Recession, you know? But after, god, we were such a mess. I don't think I'd ever seen my dad cry before, at least not like that. And Roxie, she tried to take care of me, but she was 19, just a kid."

Owen avoided her eyes, but reached out and grabbed her hand in his own, feeling the tremble beneath her gloves. "You're 19 now, right?"

"Yeah," Layla nodded, voice thick, "But I grew up. We both did."

Owen traced random patterns into Layla's palm, wanting desperately to make her feel better. "But hey, you guys are doing better right? I mean, Roxanne looked really happy today. And your dad seemed alright."

She smiled crookedly and squeezed his hand, "It's been a good day, even if I am freezing my ass off. Some days are good, some are really bad. But there's more good days recently, so I guess that's something. I just…" her voice broke again.

"You miss her," Owen supplied quietly.

"So much." Layla released his hand, shoving hers in the warmth of her pockets.

The silence stretched out again, but it was more comfortable this time, each lost to their thoughts.

"What did you mean when you said you knew something about family obligations?" Layla asked, out of the blue.

Owen looked over at with surprise. He hadn't realized he'd said anything about his family. "It's nothing," he hedged, after all, his family issues couldn't compare to hers.

"Tell me," she implored, and Owen found himself unable to deny her.

"Basically, it boils down to this. My dad took off when I was little and my mom runs this hair salon, ya know, the one on Reddy Road? Anyway, I'm an only child, so I've been helping out there for as long as I can remember…"

Layla broke in, "I was wondering why you had such pretty hair," before giving him an impish grin and silently urging him to continue.

He couldn't help but laugh at the interruption, "Anyway. I'm actually really good at the business side of everything. Like profit margins and keeping books and all that. So, she decided that I should go to school to become like an accountant or an actuary or something like that. So I did."

Layla made a face, clearly conveying disgust at the professions.

"Exactly," Owen continued, "I mean, that's great for some people, but it's just not for me. And she just doesn't get it. She doesn't understand that I'm miserable. I left school a few months ago and haven't told her yet. She's gonna kill me when she finds out." He took a deep breath, feeling oddly relieved that he had finally told someone his secret.

"What are you gonna do?" Layla asked, turning slightly to him.

Owen sighed and leaned his head back against the tree, closing his eyes, "I have no idea. I have a little money saved up, a few thousand. I was thinking of just running away in the middle of the night, settling out West somewhere."

Layla laughed, "Sounds like a damn good plan, actually."

"Yeah," Owen agreed, "But who am I kidding? I'd never do it."

"Still, it's a nice dream," Layla said, "I think about running away too. All the time. I mean, my family would miss me, but I'd call and stuff. I just hate being here, in that house, with all her stuff packed away in the cellar. It's too much."

"Yeah," Owen said again, "It's a nice dream." He smiled softly over at her, wondering how he had ended up in this situation, but finding he didn't really care. It was getting pretty damn cold though, a thought he couldn't keep from his mind for much longer.

"It's cold," Layla stated, as if reading his mind. Owen nudged her shoulder with his own, chuckling, "Well, yeah. It's nearly Christmas, in New England. It's gonna be cold. We could go somewhere warm if you want." At her smirk, he added quickly, "That wasn't a pick up line! There's a bunch of people in your kitchen already. And my house is just down the road. Not that I was trying to get you to come home with me, I mean you could if you wanted, if you wanted to like hang out or something and wow this is coming out all wrong…"

Layla clasped both her hands against his mouth, effectively stopping the rambling. "Shut up," she added, just for emphasis, but her amusement was evident. She giggled as she felt Owen nip at her hands ineffectively. "You're kinda cute, even if you do ramble," she pulled her hands away, moving one to brush that wayward hair out of his eyes.

"You…" Owen froze, unsure of how to call her beautiful without sounding corny, "You have… freckles…" he cringed while trailing off, "That sounded better in my head…" He brushed his fingers across the bridge of her nose, tracing the light smattering of freckles, "Just meant they're cute, is all."

"I hate my freckles," Layla confessed, pale skin blushing through the cold, "I'm the only one in my family who has them. The rest of them take after our Greek side. I, of course, got the Irish genes."

Owen smiled fondly, looping a lock of her hair around his finger. It was even darker than he originally thought, nearly black, and just as pretty in the shade. "Well it's a really pretty Irish."

"Who are you?" Layla mused aloud, as she closed the final inch between them, moving to rest up on her knees, facing him.

"Owen," Owen repeated, looking mildly alarmed that she already forgot his name.

"Not what I meant," she replied, reaching out to tuck that ever fighting lock of hair behind his ear again.

"Then what…" Owen stopped suddenly as Layla pressed her lips to his.

She pulled away after a moment, tracing her lips with her gloved fingers, "Sorry."

"Don't be," Owen's voice cracked just a bit, and he told himself it was from the cold.

Layla grinned widely, "Ok."

Owen barely had time to respond before she kissed him again, and he decided that maybe the details didn't matter so much.

"So all you know is that a couple of kids took off with a bunch of money, and managed to lose it somewhere along the way?" Eliot asked, just to be sure her story really was that sparse.

Parker nodded eagerly, "Yes. The girl, she told me! I wasn't even talking to her, and she just came up and started babbling, and I wasn't really listening, but then she mentioned all that money…"

"What the hell were you doing in Danvers to begin with? And you just happened across a girl who told you all about the money she got and then somehow lost?" Eliot eyed her suspiciously, collapsing onto a city bench and crossing his arms. He was done walking until he heard the whole story.

Parker sat beside him reluctantly, "Fine. Maybe she didn't tell me. Maybe I heard some gossip when I was at the mall with Sophie that day she dragged me to buy stupid things. But the girl at Macy's seemed so sure. One girl swore that she knew them, and that they were running away to Mexico or someplace with a bunch of money. And then I heard her whispering to her friend that the girl had called and said that they lost the money, but they were gonna get it back."

Eliot rubbed his aching temples, "How much money are they supposedly looking for anyway?"

"Just over a million," Parker grinned.

"That's it!" Eliot exclaimed. "Parker, you have more than that in interest!"

She shrugged, "You can never have too much money, especially free money. And this sounded like fun."

Eliot stared disbelievingly.

Parker smirked, "You still in?"

"I was never in to begin with," Eliot sighed.

"Then you can't say no!" Parker concluded, "Let's go steal us some money!"

The throbbing in his temples increased, "Doesn't sound as sinister when Nate says it."

Parker pulled Eliot to his feet. This was gonna be fun.

Owen awoke to the changing light, groaning at the crick in his neck. Registering an unfamiliar weight on his chest, he looked down to see Layla resting against him, still asleep. Somewhere in the night they had fallen asleep beneath the giant tree, and he wondered idly how they hadn't frozen. He looked at his watch, realizing it had only been a few hours after all. It was still a good hour until sunrise.

Layla shifted as she woke up, seeming more aware of her surroundings than he had been. She sat up, stretching out her own cricks before coming to sit beside Owen again.

"Morning," He greeted with a yawn.

"Not yet," Layla pointed out to the still mostly dark sky.

"Well, almost," Owen laughed, running a hand through his unruly hair.

They sat together silently, watching the sky light up bit by bit. Finally Layla sighed softly.

She turned her head and said, "What should we do?" Owen turned to face her, catching on to the strange tone of her voice, "Morning's near," he said, as if they were against a clock.

"Pretty sure we're the last ones here," Layla nodded towards the house in the distance, "Everyone's gone home. Sleeping still."

Owen grabbed her hand suddenly, "They sky's almost blue."

She grinned so widely his breath actually caught, "We don't have much time then."

"How fast can you pack?" Owen asked, praying she shared his thoughts.

"Give me ten minutes. You?"

"I'll meet you back here in fifteen," he grinned back, nerves and excitement bubbling inside.

"Ok," Layla nodded, "Ok."

Owen hopped to his feet after stealing a quick kiss and ran towards home. He couldn't believe they were actually running away.

Layla stood after Owen was out of her line of sight and made her own way back home. She packed silently and sparsely, making a note to hit the first ATM they passed. She passed the kitchen table on the way out, leaving a note in plain sight for her family. She hoped they would forgive her.

Dear Daddy and Roxie,

I love you. Please know that. I just need to be somewhere else for a while. Don't look for me, don't worry about me. I'll call you soon. Take care of each other.

Love always,

Layla

Owen's old Cadillac pulled up just as she closed the door behind her. Layla hesitated for a moment and considered going back and ripping up that note, then crawling into bed and pretending she never tried to leave. But Owen gave her a little wave and he looked so happy that she felt a surge of adrenalin course through her. Whatever happened, they were going to be alright.

Layla settled in the car, smiling at Owen's ridiculously old blue jeans and even older leather jacket. She burrowed deeper in her long grey coat, knowing the heat hadn't kicked in yet.

"Ready to go?" Owen asked, with more hope in his voice than she'd ever heard.

"Ready," she confirmed, resting her bare hand atop his on the gear shift, gloves tucked safely away in her pockets.

"So why are we at the Holiday Inn, again?" Eliot asked Parker in exasperation. He was having a hard time keeping up with her logic, and her plan, as most of it was only in her head.

Parker glared at him as they walked to the desk, "You know, you never ask Nate so many questions. I have my sources."

"Nate usually is at least half sane with his plans," Eliot shot back, fighting the urge to stick out his tongue at her. She was just crazy enough to cut it off. And sure, maybe she didn't have anything sharp in her hands, but he'd seen her move, and she was fast.

Parker made a little "na na na na" face at him before plastering a smile on her face and bouncing up to the front desk. Eliot followed slowly, neutral mask in place. Parker was already into her story as he reached the desk, and the boy there was completely enthralled.

"…And we're supposed to meet up for the big bachelorette party, and she promised me that I could jump out of the cake… and I got my outfit ready and everything. Well, it's more of a thong and frosting, but it's still an outfit, but Sandy took my special thong with her and now I can't find her! Or my thong. And now I have nothing to wear."

Eliot took a moment to admire her acting; maybe those lessons with Sophie had paid off after all. The kid at the desk naturally dropped his gaze to Parker's pants, trying to assess her underwear or lack thereof situation.

Parker finished up her speech as Eliot glared at the boy for staring at her ass a little too long; causing him to jerk his eyes back up to Parker's innocent expression. "So have you seen anyone like her in the past few days? She's with a guy about the same age."

The boy nodded slowly, looking flustered under the direct attention Parker was giving him. "There was a couple here two nights ago that might be them, but the guy called that girl Layla, not Sandy."

Parker laughed lightly, "Well she wouldn't use her real name, would she? She knew I'd be looking for her. It's all a pre-wedding game. Thank you, Randall," she leaned forward to pat the boy's nametag, "You've been very helpful."

Randall beamed up at her, blushing. Eliot rolled his eyes as he interrupted, "You didn't happen to hear where they were headed, did you?" he asked the boy.

"As a matter of fact," Randall said, pulling himself away from Parker, "I heard the girl say something about Revere. But that's all I know."

Eliot nodded, tugging Parker's elbow. She turned back to Randall, giving him one last thank you smile, before following Eliot out the door. Randall watched her walk out wistfully, and wondered why all the pretty girls had such douchebag boyfriends.

The drove for a good hour before the lack of sleep overtook Owen and he pulled into the nearest Holiday Inn.

"Why don't we just sleep in the car?" Layla asked, "We're only an hour gone."

Owen smiled, "I'm tired and I want a real bed to sleep in for a while. We can rest all day and plan, and then drive again when it gets dark. We can even order room service if you want. And watch dumb chick flicks."

Layla considered. "Cool," she decided, "But we're getting two beds."

"Whatever you want," Owen laughed again, giving her hair a little tug, smirking when she batted his hand away.

Owen was true to his word, and Layla opened to door to find a decent sized room with two double beds. She sighed happily and stripped off her coat before collapsing to the bed, reveling in the softness. After a moment, she could literally feel Owen's eyes on her. She turned to lay on her side, propping her head up on one hand.

"What?" she demanded, raising an eyebrow.

"I just realized you'd been wearing that coat since yesterday. And you're all…"

Layla curled up slightly, "What? Not what you expected?" Owen hesitated, and Layla sat up angrily, "I'm not good enough, then? C'mon, spit it out!"

"No!" Owen protested, "That's not what I meant. You just make me forget how to talk." Layla cocked a brow, waiting.

"You," Owen averted his eyes, "You're freaking gorgeous, ok. I mean, really insanely sexy, and I thought that before I saw all of that..." he motioned vaguely to her body.

"Oh," Layla said, unable to come up with more. "I don't know how to feel about that yet."

Owen smiled, "Just don't be mad, ok?"

Layla nodded. "Sleep now?" she suggested.

"Definitely," Owen agreed, throwing himself onto his own bed, kicking off his shoes.

"Goodnight," Layla whispered, already half asleep.

"Good morning," Owen corrected automatically, since the sun was most definitely up by now.

Layla just laughed and pulled her covers up. Right now they needed sleep, the rest could wait.

Parker and Eliot managed to blend into the crowd of the busy Revere flea market, pretending to pick through the tables of cheap merchandise.

"Oh, look, Eliot!" Parker bounced, "This place is right next to a movie theater, we should go see a movie after."

Eliot looked at Parker as if she had grown another head, which, at this point, wouldn't surprise him.

"Parker, sweetheart," he stretched the endearment out with a clearly pained tone, "So far, all we've done is travel to random cities in the state, with a plan that only seems to make sense in your head. And now you want to go see a movie? What the actual hell?"

Parker scowled, "I know what I'm doing. Trust me; those kids are here, somewhere. This is the best place on the way to the airport that sells cheap luggage and beach ware, even in the dead of winter. They're open until Christmas."

"How do you even know these things?" Eliot asked, truly befuddled.

Parker shrugged, "I know a guy."

"You know a guy…" Eliot repeated before halting suddenly, grabbing Parker's arm, "Wait. Look! That could be them."

Parker looked where Eliot was pointing. Rummaging through the sunglasses on a nearby table was a dark haired girl in a long grey coat. She turned to her companion, a blonde man barely older than her, and made a silly pose with bright red sunglasses. The man laughed, showing off an infectious smile, before ducking down to kiss the girl quickly and sweetly. They could see the girl's blushing skin from where they stood, but she didn't seem to mind, as she pulled him down for another kiss. Parker's eyes caught the small black duffel bag by the girl's feet just a second before Eliot's and she was on her way before Eliot could stop her.

"Damn it, Parker!" he grumbled as he jogged to keep up, grabbing her arm just as she was about to swipe the bag from the unsuspecting couple. Layla caught on to the commotion and turned to face Parker and Eliot.

"What's going on?" she asked, reaching out to grab the man's hand. She turned her head to him, "You know these people, Owen?"

Owen shook his head, "No," he turned his attention to them, "Who are you?"

Eliot dropped his stance, knowing they weren't a threat, and smiled slightly, "Nobody. My girl here just really likes those sunglasses you have on, darling'." Layla hastily pulled the sunglasses off and handed them to an irate looking Parker.

"Oh, you can have them if you want; I was only trying them on. We were leaving anyway."

Parker frowned, tossing the glasses back to the table, "I don't care about the glasses. I just want to know if you found the money yet."

The look Owen and Layla shared was almost comical. Owen glared at Eliot and Parker, "We never lost it."

Eliot sighed. He was going to kill Parker.

They ended up spending the whole day at the hotel, resting and watching movies and eating outrageously unhealthy food, before collapsing on the beds again.

"You know," Layla said, giggling slightly, "We kinda suck at this running away thing. It's been nearly two days and we're still only an hour from where we started."

Owen snorted and tossed a pillow over at Layla from his bed, "Whatever. We have the rest of our lives to run. What's wrong with spending another night here?"

"Never said there was anything wrong," she shot back, "Just said we suck at running away." She turned her head to face his, as they lay on separate beds, facing each other. "The rest of our lives, huh? You think we'll know each other that long?"

Owen smiled lazily, "I hope so. I kinda like having you around."

"Well, I am pretty awesome," Layla teased. But Owen just nodded, "Yeah, you are."

"I like having you around, too," she confessed, sitting up suddenly.

Owen stayed where he was, not sure what was happening, but afraid to mess it up all at once.

He caught on fast enough when Layla crawled into his bed and came to rest with a knee on either side of his waist. Looking up into her deep brown eye, his breath caught at what he saw in them. Desire and something softer, mixed with just a touch of fear. He knew his own blue eyes showed an identical mixture.

Layla smiled again, closing her eyes before pulling her shirt above her head, not wanting to see Owen's reaction. She couldn't help but hear the groan that escaped his throat though, and it startled her enough to open her eyes and look at him again. He looked up at her, pleading. She leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before whispering in his ear, "You can touch me, you know."

Owen ran his fingers down her side tentatively, smirking when she ground slightly against him. "You sure about this? You'll never get rid of me now, just so you know."

Layla laughed as she unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor, "I'm counting on it."

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The alarm clock radio blared into life at 8AM, startling them awake. The catchy vocals of U2 filled the room at once, leaving them scrambling to shut it up.

"Blue eyed boy meets a brown eyed girl..." Bono sang just before Owen tossed the clock to the floor, effectively silencing it.

Layla laughed and pulled him back to lay in bed, snuggling in beside him. "I think we just found our song."

"It's too early for a song," Owen grumbled, burying his face in Layla's hair.

"Whatever you say," Layla chuckled, running her fingers through his messy curls. "We should get a move on, you know."

"Ten more minutes," Owen murmured, pulling her closer to him.

"If you insist," Layla sighed happily, clasping the hand that held her waist.

"What do you mean you never lost it?!" Parker looked genuinely put out. Eliot just shook his head and took a step back. He knew Parker wouldn't just steal the money directly from the kids. After all, there was no fun in that.

Layla spoke up, still eyeing Parker suspiciously, "We never lost the money because we gave it back."

Eliot stepped forward again, things just got more interesting. "You gave it back… to who?" he asked.

"Hey, Layla. You had a black bag right?" Owen called out to the hallway where Layla stood waiting.

"Yeah," she called back, "It's in the closet."

"Got it!" Owen rushed out with the bag, "C'mon, we've got two minutes till checkout."

"That's why I'm standing in the hallway," Layla pointed out, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah."

Eliot stared at the couple unbelievingly, "You are not seriously telling me that you just happened to find a bag full of money in your hotel closet?"

"And that you gave it to the police!" Parker added, staring wide eyed.

"I know it sounds crazy," Layla admitted, "But that's what happened. When we got to the car and realized what happened…"

"We nearly ran for it, out of the country, wherever." Owen interrupted.

"Somewhere where it's warm all day," Layla added, smiling wistfully.

"But then we heard the news, and we knew we couldn't keep it." Owen finished, shrugging, "So we gave it back. It wasn't about the money anyway."

Layla stared over at Owen after counting the money. "There's like fifteen thousand dollars here."

"That's what they say is missing," Owen confirmed, turning up the radio to listen. "Somebody ripped off the Salvation Army. Who does that?"

"Us?" Layla questioned, petting the money thoughtfully, "It's enough to get away, go somewhere nice."

"Someplace we can throw away our shoes," Owen smiled, tracing his fingers over the money.

"What do we do?" she asked, clearly torn.

Owen looked up from the money, "I don't know. But I'll stand by you, either way."

Layla grinned, "Then the decision is easy."

"You gave it back. You…gave it back. You gave it back!" Parker exclaimed, still very much in shock that they could give the money back. "And your friend said it was a million dollars!" She added, for posterity.

Layla rolled her eyes, "Cassie blows things out of proportion. I shouldn't have said anything to her. But I just wanted to check on my family, and the story came spilling out."

"She said that you lost the money," Eliot said, trying to explain Parker's bizarre behavior.

Owen shook his head, "We only had it for an hour before we turned it in and got the hell out of dodge."

"Cassie has a big imagination," Layla added, shrugging.

Parker looked so disappointed that Layla couldn't help but feel bad, "Sorry," she offered.

"Sorry?!" Owen said with incredulity. "For all you know, she wanted to steal the money for herself, and you're sorry we prevented that?"

"It wasn't about the money, was it?" Layla ignored Owen, focusing on Parker, "It was about the thrill of an adventure. The rush."

Parker grinned and nodded, before admitting, "It was a little about the money. I like money."

"Now there's an understatement…" Eliot muttered.

"We should go," Layla said, squeezing Owen's hand, "Got a flight to catch."

Eliot nodded, "Where ya heading?"

"Texas, for now. We eeny meeny miny mo'd it," Owen laughed.

"We'll figure it out from there," Layla supplied, smiling up at Owen.

"Good luck," Eliot said by way of goodbye, pulling a still befuddled looking Parker away from the couple.

"Thanks!" Layla called out as they retreated.

"What in the hell just happened?" Owen asked after the crazy blonde and intimidating man had long gone.

Layla shrugged, "I don't know. But come on, we really do have that plane to catch."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Owen asked, hoisting Layla's real duffel bag onto his shoulder. She clasped her hand back into his and he smiled. It was going to be alright.

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"Don't be so sad, Parker," Eliot said, trying to make her feel better, "There will be bigger cases with more money. C'mon, let's go watch the new James Bond movie and figure out how we'd have done it better."

Parker's face lit up in a grin, "OK, but I'm stealing popcorn!"

Eliot sighed but laughed, "Of course you are."

EPILOGUE

A few days later, Owen opened the door to the cheap motel they'd been staying in to a fed-ex delivery guy.

"Owen and Layla?" the guy asked with a bored expression, "sign here," he added when Owen nodded.

Layla looked up from the bed curiously as Owen clicked the door shut. "What's that?"

Owen shrugged as he tore open the envelope, "Dunno. Let's see."

He pulled out the slip of paper and his legs nearly gave out.

"What? What is it?" Layla rushed to pull the paper from his hands. "Holy shit," she whispered as she saw the cashier's check for $50,000. "Who…" she asked, before sinking to the bed.

"There's a note," Owen answered, pulling it out to read. "It's from that weird guy from the flea market. How the hell did he even find us?"

"Read it out loud!" Layla demanded, bouncing.

Layla & Owen,

You're good kids. Stay that way. I don't know why you're running away, but I figure everyone deserves at least one second chance. You could have kept that money, but you didn't. Call this karma, or luck, or whatever you want. But don't question it. And don't worry about how I found you. Just take the money and be happy. I know it's not enough to never work again, but it's enough to settle down somewhere and find a home. I can tell you two have faith in each other; the rest will work itself out. But I never said anything that sappy, you understand? And if Parker(the crazy blonde) ever asks, I never sent you this. In fact, you never met me. Burn this letter.

Take Care,

Eliot

Owen sank to the bed beside Layla, clutching the check.

"Wow," was all he could say.

Layla nodded, "Yeah."

"Now what?" Owen asked, head swimming with possibilities.

Layla laughed shakily, voice filled with tears, "Whatever we want."

Owen turned to kiss her softly, "For the rest of our lives."