Two weeks had passed and the three thieves had settled into their routines. Hardison's shelter had held up admirably; the last storm ended up leaking through the roof in several places, but he'd creatively applied a thin coating of the island's clay to it and so far it hadn't leaked again in the light rains they'd had. Every morning they'd rise, pull out the bedding they'd slept on, and use it to feed the night's fire back to life before giving it larger branches they'd pulled out of the trees. With all three of them hanging off the end they could easily snap off branches several inches in diameter and work to break them into manageable pieces. After getting the fire set up, they split up to find what food they could.
Parker headed towards a group of pine trees while the boys went down to the water. She'd surprised them with her knowledge of an unlikely food source- inside pinecones. Using Eliot's outer shirt which she'd borrowed, Parker filled it with as many of the fallen pinecones as she could and trekked back to camp. She wasn't nervous about being in the trees now, as Eliot had assured her that he hadn't found a single sign of any predator larger than a fox, though she would have to remain wary about the pigs. A startled wild pig could turn violent, he'd explained, and they had dangerously large tusks. None of them could afford an injury of any kind, especially a severe mauling from an angry pig. Parker unloaded the pinecones by their fire and carefully placed them on the ring of large rocks Hardison had brought up for this purpose. There they would dry out in the fire's heat and the scales would open, exposing the seeds hidden inside which she could crack open for the edible pine nuts. Though they'd spoil in a couple of days if not eaten, they were full of the fats and protein which all three desperately needed- they certainly couldn't have what Eliot called a "balanced diet" out here, though Parker always thought he was a little cracked in the head when he went on about the team's eating habits.
At the beach, Eliot and Hardison were out in the ocean. Eliot was slowly wading in the shallows, ready to spear any fish unwary enough to stay still for a few seconds. He'd never had to use a spear in water and was still trying to adapt to the distortion caused by the water, which caused him to miss more than he hit. His aim was improving, though, and he used that bit of encouragement to help salve his anger at their utter helplessness. They were marginally safe where they were, but the slightest problem could end up killing all three of them; infection, storms, illness… he was horrifyingly familiar with all the ways this could go wrong. Eliot looked up at the sound of footsteps in the sand and nodded at Parker as she made herself comfortable on the small beach; with her food gathering done, it looked like she wanted to do a little sunbathing. He turned back to patiently waiting for fish as he heard Hardison surface somewhere behind him.
Even though he didn't get to indulge very often Hardison loved to swim. It was one of the few things his Nana could afford, a membership at their local Y, and she'd always encouraged his swimming as it kept him off the streets and away from the gangs. Hardison was spending a good portion of this morning diving down to pry up shellfish with a stick he'd crafted just for the task. Eliot had explained what the things were at one point, but Hardison hadn't paid much attention beyond 'these are edible' to hear whether they were a clam, oyster, or mussel. His seafood was pretty much limited to the bag of frozen fried fish he kept in Nate's freezer. Hardison surfaced and went to dump his catch, stowed in his shirt that he'd folded into a pouch, and froze at the sight that met his eyes. Parker was lying on the beach, sunbathing, topless. He couldn't help but stare and didn't pay any attention to Eliot's approach until the man moved in front of him and broke his line of sight.
"Not polite to stare," Eliot quietly spoke, keeping the conversation low enough not to carry across the beach to Parker's ears.
Hardison swallowed a few times to moisten his mouth. "But she's… and I… it ain't right!" he babbled. He could feel his face heat up with embarrassment.
Eliot shook his head, "No, she's Parker, which means that she doesn't think a thing about showing skin- you already know that." He sighed at having to explain this to Hardison of all people. "Look, the thing about women is that if they're comfortable enough to show like that, then it's okay to look and appreciate. It's like putting a fine painting on the wall… you want people to enjoy the view. Staring, however, is just plain rude and will make her uncomfortable after a while." He watched Hardison closely to make sure that he got the point.
"Okay, so I look and appreciate, but don't stare… that's harder than it sounds!" Hardison was still flustered and decided to go diving again even if he had already collected more than they could eat today. Parker had changed in front of him several times, but his own modesty had kept his eyes firmly in the opposite direction; if she planned to take up topless sunbathing, however, he was going to have a bit of a problem until he adjusted to the sight.
Eliot's lips twitched with a suppressed laugh. "I'm sure it is," he managed before he had to walk away or risk laughing in Hardison's face. He'd been there before, years ago, before he'd learned how to relax around women and just enjoy them for the wonderful creatures they were. Parker's partial nudity only made him roll his eyes and think of the topless beaches he'd frequented in France during… well, better left unsaid what he was actually doing in the country. The statute of limitations may not have fully run out on some of the charges yet. Hardison's lack of composure, however, was highly amusing to watch.
As the sun climbed higher into mid-morning, Parker abandoned her sunbathing and retreated up to wash in the stream before the boys finished. Once she washed herself and her clothing, very carefully to avoid damaging the cloth that they couldn't replace, she headed back to camp to set up for Eliot and Hardison's catches. Her pinecones, now ready to be broken open, were swept into a small pile for Hardison to work on later; she brought out the sticks they'd taken to using for roasting and made sure that everything was clean. With seafood, one couldn't be too careful, and none of them could afford food poisoning from a poorly-cleaned roasting spit.
Hardison, still in only his boxers from swimming, dumped his load of shellfish on the ground where Parker indicated and headed to the stream to wash up. He exchanged boxers for his jeans and then carefully washed the salt and sand out of his boxers and the shirt he'd used as a carry bag. Eliot joined him a few minutes later to do his own washing. "You going to go exploring again this afternoon?" Hardison asked after Eliot had settled into washing his own boxers-turned-swim trunks.
"Yeah, I thought I should; maybe see if I can find another pig to bring back- the ones around here know to avoid this area," Eliot thoughtfully replied as he finished washing and wrung the water from his washing. They'd both lay their damp clothes out to dry a little later, once they'd finished their lunch.
Parker had the fish already on the roasting spit, Eliot having cleaned and scaled them down at the beach, and was nearly done with lining up the opened shellfish on the same rocks her pinecones had occupied earlier. They'd cook in the indirect heat and serve as the second course after they ate the fish, the pine nuts were both dessert of a kind and a snack that they'd munch on during the day. "Hey Hardison," she greeted the returning men, "I put the pinecones over there for you to work on them." Parker indicated the area near their hut that had become somewhat of a work area. She didn't want the shells and mess in the open area of the camp- they all went barefoot for comfort when they weren't leaving its safe confines. Parker did her best to keep the area clear of anything sharp or hard as she didn't like unexpectedly stepping on a sharp twig.
A few hours later, they had lunch cleared out and had kept a few well-cooked pieces to make a small dinner. Parker and Hardison had left to collect more firewood while Eliot went exploring towards what he figured was the center of the small island. The two worked diligently until they had a good number of branches on the ground which they divided and pulled to the camp- they'd break them down as needed rather than do it all at once and wear themselves out. Parker left Hardison to arrange the branches however he wanted and instead trekked along the cliff's edge to find suitable long grass to bring back for their bedding. Whatever the grass was, it dried out quickly and the second night they tried to sleep on it all three had found out very quickly that it prickled and poked enough to keep them awake. Ever since then they made sure to bring in fresh bedding and use the old as fuel for the fire.
So far, they hadn't seen many bugs, mostly flies and a few bees pollinating what Eliot claimed were blackberry bushes. Neither Parker no Hardison could guess what they were, other than a major pain as the bushes had wickedly sharp thorns and only white flowers so far. They all desperately hoped that they wouldn't still be there to see what kind of fruit developed; if they wanted blackberries, they agreed that the best way to get them was at the store, back in civilization. Their island life wasn't horrible, as they'd first expected, but all three of them wanted to be back where their skills could be of use, back with the rest of the team that had become their family. They all chafed under the forced inactivity that limited food imposed.
Eliot returned that evening with news. "I found an old airstrip," he said, and had to quiet the others' immediate questioning. "It's far too old to be used now, broken up and grown over, but it had a small outbuilding beside it at one time. Don't know what it was used for as it looks like it was here as we're outside of the normal drug trafficking areas and this place doesn't look like it belonged to a private owner." Eliot pulled out a handful of greenery that he'd carefully stowed in his pockets. "The building also had what looked like a small garden, and some of it still survived. This is fennel, tastes like licorice, this is a wild mint," he pulled out a small root from another pocket, "and this is alumroot. Found it growing in and on the remains of the outbuilding, and it's medicinal- in the time before Tylenol and Neosporin, anyone could take this root, pound it into a wet mash, and use it in a poultice for sores or sprains. I figure it's the best we're going to get as I haven't seen any of the other herbs I've used before."
Hardison and Parker nodded; Eliot hadn't always worked in places where he could get immediate medical aid when he was injured, so knowing natural remedies would be safer than showing up at a hospital in some foreign country where he had a price on his head. "I think I know what you found," Hardison spoke thoughtfully. "These islands were used to keep a watch for enemy planes during World War II, and from the sounds of it, you found an airstrip and soldier barracks leftover from it. After the war, they were all abandoned until the Cold War, when we used them as an early warning system for Russian attack. Once that wound down, they were all abandoned and California took the islands as part of their park system." He grinned at the impressed looks on both Parker and Eliot's faces. "What, I can't watch a documentary as I hack?" he asked, and ducked their retaliatory swats.
They all settled down for a couple handfuls of pine nuts and their leftovers from lunch. "If you could have anything you wanted to eat right now, what would it be?" Hardison asked as he mournfully stared at his scant meal. "I know I'd love to have my Nana's jambalaya- don't know how she made it, but I still haven't found any as good as hers and she always made it as comfort food when one of us was feeling down."
"Any food?" Eliot asked as he thought. "I think I'd want a porterhouse steak with steamed vegetables and apple pie for dessert. Living off seafood is okay, but when we get off of this island, I don't want to look at another fish for a good long time!"
Parker shrugged when they turned to look at her. "I don't have a favorite food, but I guess I'd like to have a bowl of cereal. Always just had to eat what I could get and personally, I hate seafood, but it's what we can get. Learned the trick with the pinecones when I was living in Central Park before Archie took me in," she explained and received baffled looks in return. Food was food, she ate it to keep from being hungry, but beyond that it didn't matter much.
The three cleaned up after their dinner, still lamenting the fact that they didn't have anything to carry or store water in, and settled down to play an odd game that they'd invented. Each had a pile of short twigs and smooth pebbles in their possession. Pebbles acted as connectors between twigs when laid on the ground, and it played quite a bit like dominoes, except that they weren't keeping score or winning anything. They just enjoyed the relaxation and creativity of seeing what odd shapes they could make, as each could only lay down either a pebble or a twig during their turn. Last night they'd collaborated and created a somewhat lopsided giraffe, but this time they ended up with an ornate geometric design instead. Parker cleaned up their playing materials as Eliot and Hardison worked to bank their fire for the night, and then all three crawled into the hut to sleep. By now, no one even paid attention when Parker used them as her mattress; she wasn't very heavy, and the two guys had gotten used to it. At least she didn't elbow or kick in her sleep when she slept across them, as opposed to the one time they tried to force her to sleep on the bedding.