Authors Note:

Originally posted over on AO3 as part of the Leverage Secret Santa Gift Exchange 2015. It was for MusingMidge77 – who will be surprised to find an additional chapter shortly. I hope that you all enjoy this story.

Also, I want to offer my thanks to Valawenel for checking this over, and helping me greatly with my story, and my writing in general.

Smooth Doggie

"Oh, so you mean pretzels, maybe later mama?" Hardison waggled his eyebrows suggestively towards the lithe blonde, carrying a plate of garlic bread towards the dinner table in their office, downtown Portland. The Leverage Team were getting ready to eat after completing another complicated job that very afternoon. Eliot had prepared his infamous Lasagna, with side-salad and garlic bread as a treat for them all.

Also in the kitchen was Sophie, and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear anymore, and while she wasn't technically eavesdropping, it was beginning to feel a lot like that. Topping up her wine glass, before moving to replace it in the refrigerator, she'd overheard them at the kitchen entryway. Taking a deep breath, the grifter smiled and excused herself in order to pass between the younger team members. The British lady was grateful their latest job was finally over. Although it had been a relatively simple job, less though for some members of the team, they were all weary after a protracted period of jobs and they were all ready for a vacation.

She looked out from under the wavy bangs hiding her eyes, and hopefully sheltering her from any inclusion in this conversation. Happy to note that Parker's face shone brightly, a little flushed at the suggestions Hardison was making, while her eyes glistened as though she was admiring a giant jewelry haul.

"Where shall we go?" That was Parker distracted from setting the table now, and Eliot's sigh was apparent from the kitchenette.

"Dinner's up folks," Eliot's gravelly voice floated through from the same room his sigh had seconds earlier.

Moments later, he exited the kitchen, excusing himself as he walked between Hardison and Parker, before he deposited the large crockpot filled with pasta sauce and bolognaise on the table.

As Nate pulled her seat out, she noticed Eliot whipping out the serving spoons from his back pockets, before flipping them into the air and landing them right into the serving dishes.

"Et voila!" the happy chef surmised.

"Smells delicious Eliot, thank you," Nate said as he took his own seat.

"Isn't that French?" Parker asked.

"Yeah, it was." Eliot shrugged nonchalantly.

"But you've cooked Italian food," she continued, "Surely you should have said something in Italian?"

"He probably don't know any Italian," Hardison spoke conspiratorially, as he leant across to serve himself some garlic bread, "except those words he uses to get the ladies into his bed."

"So you use Italian as your code for sex?" It was getting awkward now, and Sophie didn't think anything good could possibly come from the rest of this conversation. She glanced at Nate, who looked equally as uncomfortable, though as usual he seemed uninterested in involving himself. And, before she could change the subject successfully, Parker had started to laugh, and wasn't using her human laugh, but her crazy lady laugh – the one that sounded like an asthmatic seal, midway through a coughing fit.

"Seriously, how many ladies would fall for that Eliot?" Parker looked positively gleeful as she bounced closer towards the hitter. Sophie wished she hadn't done that; Eliot had taken the brunt of the physical hits this week and no doubt his tether was heavily unraveled already, and that was before this farcical scene befell them.

"That's not the sort of question to ask anyone, Parker." Sophie tried to interject.

"Eliot doesn't mind, we all know he's a slag." The sound of cutlery being dropped around the table was palpable.

"Whoa, Momma, you can't go calling anyone…" Hardison at least tried to calm the situation, but it seemed that Parker was way too hyped up after her week of relative boredom to stop, at any cost.

"Parker, that's a horrible thing to say," Sophie interjected over Hardison's own sentence, without her usual politeness, but she felt she had to say something. It might have been an integral part of Parker's innate charm; the fact that she truly was innocent, but that didn't often cause outbursts like this. Though, none of that excused her behavior.

Eliot's face literally dropped after Parker's insult, and it didn't lift while he continued to push the gourmet food around his plate, having retrieved the silverware he initially dropped. Obviously planning on how to get the hell out of there. He was already hiding behind his hair; something that Sophie had noticed him do during their early days together on the team. These days he had done it less frequently, hiding from the people who'd practically become his de-facto family. They knew him as well as possible, so the reasons why he might have hidden himself from view were less obvious lately. Now it seemed he did it when he couldn't bear to look at anyone: Or have anyone look too closely at him.

The table calmed and they continued to eat in relative silence. The meal was coming to a close, and time for them to sample any dessert the hitter might have made. Parker and Hardison began to speak quietly between themselves again. They were making plans for the following week, a conference about comics for Alec, and Parker might meet up with him, but she explained that she had a few things she wanted to check out herself beforehand.

"Maybe we can meet up at that hotel," he leaned closer, "you know, the one where we…"..

"Hey!" growled the southerner. "Do you two know how to be in any way subtle?" He returned his fork to the plate, considerably louder than he'd first planned. "There's just a time and a place for…that." Spencer clearly tried to sound less grumpy, but she noted he was failing completely. "Well, just sometimes… you should keep those private things… well, private." Eliot's voice interrupted the somewhat awkward silence that had befallen the room.

"Jealousy's a nasty look on you man," the hacker bantered back with the hitter.

"Oh, like you kept all that stuff with Moreau to yourself?" Parker's face instantly showed signs that she knew what she had said was wrong. It was nothing like what Eliot was talking about; this was going to head nasty quickly.

"Is that what you think, Parker?" came the hitter's spluttered retort.

"A secret, is a secret," Parker practically nah-nahhed the cowboy, whose temper was swiftly rising. "You said when Sophie took the Second David, 'you don't con your own team'." Again, provoking response from the southerner.

"I wasn't trying to con you," Eliot tried to convey emphatically. "I was trying to protect you from Moreau."

"I'm beginning to think you actually enjoyed what you did for him!" Parker's words flew from her mouth, probably just as she realized that she'd overstepped the mark.

Sophie's gasp was audible and the look of shock on Nate's face was palpable. Why on earth had Parker said that, dragging up old pain for the hitter?

"Parker!" Nate admonished. "There was no…"

"It's fine," he growled, "ain't like she's wrong." Pushing his chair back, he threw down his napkin and stood up.

They all knew that Parker had made a huge mistake, but Sophie couldn't fathom why Parker hadn't seen that Eliot had made those choices in order to protect them, rather than hurt them. Trying to clear up his own past mistakes, rather than reveal them to the team. It was as painful for him, as indeed all their own pasts were for them. They had all been haunted by them in Leverage Associate's earlier days.

"Gonna head out," the hitter spoke quietly, head down as he excused himself from the table.

He had to get out of there. Flee from their equally matching disheartened stares, the ones which conveyed to him clearly just how much they clearly felt they'd been let down by his forced disclosure regarding his time in cahoots with the evil gangster Moreau.

Eliot felt as if his breath had been tangibly forced from his lungs, beaten to a pulp metaphorically, and physically after the past week, and now his heart felt heavy and tormented. He left the apartment and headed straight for his truck. Thank goodness he'd already loaded it for his fishing trip. He was hoping to get an early start the next morning, after their now-traditional post-job wrap supper. And, considering how the evening had gone, it was beneficial that he'd get an even earlier start; maybe even get some time on the trails prior to meeting the others. He knew he just couldn't stay there, inside that office with all of them looking at him like that, knowing what they were thinking. The entire night stuck in traffic would have been better than him spending the entire evening going over and over this fiasco, trying to make them understand why he had handled things the way he had. Continually defending himself over something he believed that he was doing to keep them safe.

Eliot knew in his heart that Parker hadn't truly meant what she'd said, but deep down he had hoped to have moved-on from that particular error in judgment. He'd certainly hoped that the team had moved past it. Clearly, he'd been wrong.

However, there was another thing that was bothering him slightly more. He felt something that evening, something that he hadn't felt in years – anguish and heartache. His worry was two fold; firstly, a hitter with a conscience is one that needed to retire; and secondly, why couldn't they realize he'd covered it all up to protect them; to keep them safe. He hadn't kept it from them out of malice. His first thought had been of their safety: like always.

Climbing into his truck, he knew that if he'd looked back, Sophie would be at the window, looking out for him. For some reason, he was feeling spectacularly unworthy of her sympathy. He'd brought this on himself.

His thoughts brought about a melancholy he hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe he was fooling himself by thinking he could stay in one place long-term. Maybe he was wrong in hoping he could have a family around him again. All the time he'd thought he was repaying his debts to society by helping people who'd been thoroughly screwed over by the system, and hopefully earning some positive karma. But, maybe he was fooling himself. Maybe his past would always haunt him and nothing could save him from the man he was; nothing and no one.

Parker never really considered that she would ever be able to glance directly into Eliot's eyes so clearly and deeply; like his armor had failed and she could see straight into his soul. He was always so guarded and secretive. Whereas now he looked fragile, almost breakable, and a little bit defeated; like she had physically wounded him. She saw his fists clench immediately, before he had quickly relaxed them again, almost as quickly as they had formed in the first place.

Parker wished she could stuff her cruel words back into her mouth, and swallow them down, never to be heard again. Eliot had always protected her. Treated her like a big brother might have done, by protecting her like he already had on many previous occasions; he'd more than proved his loyalty many times over. What had she done?

"Why did I say that? I know I shouldn't have," Parker spoke to the astonished team members remaining at the table. Staring straight ahead of her, unblinking she continued, "What have I done? Maybe, I should go after him."

"No, darling." Sophie placed her soft, warm hand upon hers, while Hardison kept his arm draped across her shoulder. All of them were sullen and diverted from anything that went before, including their former celebrations over another completed job. "Let him go for now, Parker. Talk to him tomorrow, call him up when he gets up to Colorado."

"It wasn't all that bad Parker," Hardison tried to reassure her. "He's a big boy, don't even see why he had to go and spoil dinner over it."

"I should think it would be perfectly obvious why he was upset, Alec," Nate's voice came from nowhere, almost as though they had forgotten he was there. "He's a human being at the end of the day, and he has a beating heart just like the rest of us."

Nate had listened for long enough; yes there was always a sharp banter between the three younger members of the team and he had never seen reason to put a stop to it. He had assumed they used it to distract themselves from the more difficult sides of their jobs. Used it to keep themselves in sync, because they'd spent so long working alone, not entirely used to working together on such projects.

Sitting there reflecting on it all he realized that as the Mastermind, he should have seen that Eliot was tired, much more worn down than normal, and his temper was on a shorter fuse recently. He should have asked the southerner what was going on, instead it has now become a 'thing' and he's gone for another week; at least I hope he's only gone for a week. No chance of finding out now. Parker's quiet and delicate voice penetrated his thoughts.

"I'll talk to him Nate, I promise," Parker spoke with a maturity that Nate wasn't previously sure the blonde thief even had inside of her. Her very answer had just boosted his pride in her adjustment to normal life, despite his anger with her insensitivies.

Nate always feared there would be repercussions from Eliot's discretion and consequent handling of his tenuous connection with Damien Moreau. Though his loyalty could never be questioned, it was clear that his initial choice to hide his connections to the evil arms dealer had not gone over well with the others. He had always questioned his own cover-up of the warehouse scene. Eliot had killed many men that day, very bad men, but nonetheless he had killed them all. To begin with, he worried the team would show their fear of Eliot's darker side to him – physically. Now, however, he believed it had been a mistake: full disclosure from now on, it was the only thing that would work for sure. He would ponder the timing and let Eliot know he planned to tell the team, and tonight was a prime example of why.

His reasons… well, for one, the team had no clue exactly what the hitter had been required to do in order to save him and the mysterious Italian lady, that fateful day. What Eliot had sacrificed within his soul that day, in order to protect them all. Nate felt decidedly sullen as he considered what Eliot forfeited in that warehouse. He knew that their trained killer actually hated killing, the cowboy actually hated the man he'd once been for Damien Moreau, hated everything the Government had required him to do for their Country, and in the name of their Country. All of the things he'd done to keep the United States from losing its security, or place in the World order.

There were a great number of people and places that owed its freedom and very safety to that young man, and many more men and women similar to him. As a boy he'd signed his name on the dotted line, in order to fight for his Country, and for his fellow Americans. Not to mention the other smaller Countries that couldn't fight for themselves. Nate suspected that the team wouldn't be entirely proud of some of the things that Eliot Spencer had done throughout his short lifetime. But, in the same vain, he was sure that they would be extremely proud of some of the other things their team mate, and brother, had done for them and many others over the years. So many things that they didn't know about, and some they were never likely to find out about either.

He wished at times that Sam had lived long enough to have grown up, not just for the obvious reasons, but because he wished that his son could have been as brave as Eliot was. He also wished he'd been braver and actually told the younger man how he actually felt about him, and just how proud he was of him.

Seeking solace away from the team, Eliot drove straight to Harvey's private airfield, where one of Eliot's shell companies was the proud owner of an aircraft hangar and that's where he housed his secret workshop. He'd been working on this during any of the Team's down time, and had logged enough hours the previous summer to qualify for his Private Pilot License. After logging his flight plan, he continued onto his pre-flight checks. When he'd finished checking Betsy, his fully restored Beechcraft Musketeer, over thoroughly, the hitter took her up and pointed her towards Denver. They were taking at least one weeks vacation, before they were planning on searching for their next job, and while the team assumed he was driving all the way to Colorado, instead he was going to enjoy his very own private flight.

It never hurt to have some private matters in his life, not secrets like his involvement with Moreau, and since he had hung up his lone-wolf boots it seemed that very little remained private for long around the others. First surprise for them was that he was now a fully qualified pilot, and secondly, he had his own plane, hangar and private airfield in Beaverton. It had taken some finagling when they moved across from LA, but nothing he couldn't manage with a shell company, or two.

Rather than drive all the way and arrive in the Rocky Mountains dog tired - he was enjoying his evening dancing amongst the stars in a cloudless sky. There was an unadulterated serenity to looking at a dark sky littered with glittering stars; especially when viewed from the trail sans light pollution from the big city. Parker had her rooftops, and while that was good, he'd bet that she would love the view from up here.

A few hours later he arrived in Colorado – at Granby-Grand Airfield – where he had asked Shelley to stow his truck. Eliot was feeling tired, but somehow invigorated. The flight had awakened his senses and helped to clear away his bad mood.

Pointing his truck in the right direction, he fired her up and set off for his next stop of the night. He had many secrets and among them was his secret lair in the Rockies, not a million miles from Shelley's place at Grand Lake – but far enough away to keep prying eyes from his door.

Thirty minutes later saw him drop his kitbag inside his cabin. Eliot set the fire for his return and opened up the shutters to let the place breathe. Even though it was mid September, it was still sunny enough, or rather it would be when the day broke fully.

Deciding to get his head down for an hour or so, to recharge his batteries before heading out into the fresh aired wilderness. After a shower and hearty breakfast, it was time for a wander along the trails before meeting up with his friends later that evening.

He was part way along the trail when his mobile phone rang. He knew he should talk to her, but the hurt child in him just wanted to ignore her and carry on with his tranquil walk. He was just looking forward to being normal for the day. Enjoying the trails, beers with his buddies and some peaceful time away from the team. There was no question regarding his loyalties, or to his feelings towards them all. They had wheedled their way into his affections, and it was for that reason alone that he consistently put himself in harms way to defend them all. It was not a job borne out of satisfaction, but one of duty, a duty to the person beside him and behind him. What had once begun as a Military campaign to keep his brethren safe was now a modus operandi for Eliot Spencer, a way to live his life and to keep his friends safe, in whatever life he chose to live.

The trail snaked around the side of a mountain with a sheer drop to the right. He was somewhere along the rising side of the National Trail, though there should have been a better view, but it had been wiped out by the misty clouds. They hung around tumbling against the dewy grass, and fighting off the warming sun of a bright new day.

Without truly focusing on any of the beauty around him, he stomped along the trail. It was all that he could manage to expend some of his frustrations, at first the anger, and secondly how much it had wounded him to see such fragility in Parker's piercing blue eyes. Part of his anger was frustration. He had known for a while that he harbored more feelings for the beautiful young thief, more than he should; more than that of what a sibling would, or should. That said he was fairly sure it was definitely against the bro's code to harbor feelings for said bro's girl. And, that was unlikely to win him any popularity awards, if Hardison ever found out: strike that, he would never risk any of them finding out.

An owl screeched loudly from his left, which made him twitch. He'd totally engrossed himself in his frustrations, and neglected his surroundings. He had no idea where he was on the trail, and secondly, it was further proof to himself that he needed to nip his feelings in the bud, as they were already distracting him. His job was too dangerous to risk getting caught daydreaming. This had to stop. He had to stop.

The trail itself wasn't particularly difficult to navigate, as it wasn't overly high on the mountain. That said, the weather this high in the mountain was treacherous; the fog beneath his path rose without any warning, shoved by a gust of cold wind. He turned around to orientate himself, yet in a matter of seconds he was engulfed in a thick cloud.

Before he could fight it, the pain from the previous night struck back at him. It was like a venomous snake. He was overwhelmed by blinding pain, feelings he couldn't begin to fathom, certainly as to why it was upsetting him so much. He hadn't felt that kind of pain in years. It was all encompassing and its very being invoked a much more frightening reaction within him. He could feel his heart pounding deep within his chest. He began to hyperventilate and his knees buckled beneath him. He was having a flashback. It had literally been years since his last, though that didn't seem to diminish the effect they had on him.

He barely moved when he felt the ground under his feet change: he'd stepped off the trail, not seeing it. His foot caught on a tree stump, and he stumbled forward.

Before he knew it, he was falling, tumbling through the mist, he didn't feel anything, but for his last thoughts of Parker going through his mind. One minute he was enjoying the brisk pace he'd set himself along with the fresh wind, blowing gently at a higher than average seasonal high of thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit.

The next minute, it had all gone dark...