Disclaimer: I own nothing but a love of these characters.

The plan was to drive all night and arrive in the morning, take an hour or so to sleep then show his face at the wedding. Glancing at Parker, Eliot wondered if that was going to work. So far she had remained quiet, content to flip through the radio stations, which despite what he considered to be a very clear warning, had been her first action as they pulled up at the lights at the end of the street. He figured she was setting the tone for the trip. Knowing just how inquisitive she was, her lack of questions regarding the wedding surprised him. He found himself wanting to tell her, and getting annoyed that she refused to ask. So strange the blonde thief beside him. Who did that anyway? She had no clue where they were driving to, how long it would take and had packed a toothbrush and pants. Infuriated, he gripped the wheel tighter and shifted gears.

"So what's my role in this scam? This plus one gig." Her question after such a long bout of silence startled him, though outwardly he showed no sign of it. Then her words sunk in.

"It's not a job Parker. It's just a wedding."

"I don't get it." She really didn't. Eliot sighed. This was how his weekend could still get totalled. The task of normalising Parker in eleven hours. He doubted it was possible.

"There's nothing to get," he looked at her quickly and mellowed at the sheer panic in her eyes. "Look we show up, eat, drink, congratulate the couple and leave. Ta da. It's not hard."

"But I don't-I haven't-who will I be?"

Eliot looked at her curiously, not sure he had heard her right. "You, Parker. You'll just be you."

"But I've never been to a wedding before." She began to twist her hands in her lap, and the uncharacteristic nervousness she was throwing off made Eliot wonder a lot about her odd contradictory nature.

"We've been to about four in the last year alone Parker."

"But not as us!" Apparently it mattered a great deal to the blonde thief, and he held back the dismissive retort he would usually make. He waited, eyes on the road but ears on his passenger, knowing she would carry on once she worked out what she wanted to share. It took five minutes.

"Those were jobs. Sophie told me what to wear and who to be. I don't - this is like repelling without a harness and I would rather go fishing." She folded her arms and produced the trademark pout. Eliot honest to God could not figure her out.

"You know there's something wrong with you right?" He tried to tease her out of her slump, but his gut twisted when she answered in a small voice.

"Yes. Which is why I don't get invited to peoples weddings. I crash them for work."

"Hey Parker," Eliot did not like the guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach at all,"I didn't mean to-"

"Can we pull over to get some snacks? I want cookies."

Spying a gas station up ahead he nodded, shifting his eyes to her profile as she stared out of the window. She looked sad. He hated when she looked sad. Damn when that bastard psychic had made her cry he had almost offed the guy just cos she asked. Parker was insane but in an upbeat way that he ended up laughing with mostly. She lightened the group with her crazy. In a flash of curiosity he glanced at her again, wondering if she knew that. If she cultivated it just to keep them all from getting morose about the bad shit they heard from clients all the time. It gave him pause to think of her doing that consciously.

"Want anything?" As he parked she was already climbing out, and he tugged some cash from his pocket and tossed it to her as she asked.

"Pay for me would you? I'm gonna fill 'er up." She scooped up the notes and gave him a grin that he couldn't help return. Damn that girl loved the feel of money. At least her eyes weren't sad any more. He watched from his position as he fuelled up, scanning the area automatically, alert to the other customers in the shop and their proximity to Parker as she plundered the snack aisle. She garnered the interest of the teenager on the till, he could see that from here. Eliot frowned as he replaced the nozzle in the pump and closed the cap a little too hard. Damn kid was all but panting at her. She, as usual was oblivious.

Dammit Hardison, he cursed his friend as he watched her bound out of the doors, all smiles and sunshine hair, even as the light was fading. They were still hours from New York, and he had hoped to make it through to the I-78 before Friday night in New York made it impossible. Just thinking of wall to wall people and buildings and yellow cabs made him shudder. He could have taken another route but figured, get on the road and drive, and cuss out all the other annoying drivers as much as he liked. He didn't relish having to squash his road rage for the next eleven hours.

As he climbed in, and started the truck up, she reached the passenger door and he leant over to let her in, and almost slipped a gear when she flashed open her jacket to display the most junk food he had ever seen crammed into a coats lining before. Her complete and utter glee as she closed the coat and got in was palpable.

"Drive Clyde!" She threw her arm forward and fluttered her eyelashes at him, her accent quite charming. The lessons from Sophie were paying off at least.

"Seriously Bonnie? What is this Grand Theft Sugar Rush?" He raised an eyebrow at her even as he peeled from the forecourt. She laughed, and it swelled his pride a little too much. He always could get a laugh out of her, and she him when she wanted to. Since she veered between crazy and control freak on a daily basis, it always did his ego good when she got him. Her sense of humour was off the wall at best, whilst his was darker than some folks appreciated on occasion.

She emptied the contents of her coat into her lap and it spilled into the foot well, and he gritted his teeth. He hated mess. How could you be methodical and focused, when you were surrounded by chaos? Then another thought distracted him from the irritation building as his truck became cluttered with snacks and junk and soda.

"You did pay for the fuel right? Parker?"

"Of-course I did. Gets taken out of the cashiers pay if they have a drive off on shift."

"How d'you know that?"

"You told Sophie once when she asked why you always carry cash. Gas money you said." She shrugged like it was no big deal. He supposed it wasn't. "Plus I get about ten bucks off you most days you know for snack machine emergencies."

"You steal from me?" For some reason Eliot was shocked, and more than hurt, which was beyond stupid since she was a thief and that's what they did for a day job. He stared out the front screen at the traffic ahead, sourly.

"It's not stealing. It's practice."

He responded with frosty silence, as opposed to the blistering tirade he felt brewing. He growled instead.

"If I asked you for it, you'd give it. So it's not stealing."

He had no choice but to respond to that little bit of Parker logic and turned disbelieving eyes on her.

"Really? Then why not ask Parker?" His sarcastic gruff demand filled the truck and she humphed and turned away from the look she called his "bare hands" face. Like he could kill you with them. easily. He had been amused by the description at the time. For a long moment he thought about turning the truck around and heading back, cutting Hardison off at the airport or packing her onto a plane himself. This was not going well. Nope.

"Because I-" She broke off, and he caught a look on her face he had rarely seen, and usually only when Nate was telling her off. Her cheeks had shaded a delicate pink. Intrigued, he wondered if she would continue, and when she didn't, not that anything she could say could possibly make him view her actions any less than a betrayal of the trust that had been growing between them, he decided, enough, and began to look for a suitable place to spin the wheel and put a stop to this bizarre road trip. She glanced at his hands on the wheel, and guessed his intentions.

"You taking me back?"

He nodded, not quite trusting his voice yet. It was stupid to be so mad at her for being what she was, but damn it, stealing from him? It pissed him off.

"I won't do it any more I swear." She sounded sincere, but Eliot could not control the irrational anger her admission ignited. Seeing a junction up ahead, he prepared to do a 180, checking the mirrors for traffic coming up behind.

"Whatever Parker. You know I thought we were honest with each other, and you can't even admit you stole from me just because you like stealing. I ain't down with that. So yeah, we're going back and-"

"I did it because you are the best practise a lifter can get." He grimaced, not hearing a compliment, but his failure at spotting the damn lifts and that was a problem he would have to address. He could not afford to be lax. Ever.

"Once is enough to prove your skill Parker. Look I get it, you're a thief, I just don't like being a mark."

"You keep your cash in your front right trouser pocket." Bullet fast from her side of the truck. She seemed a million miles away.

"Yeah?" Like that had anything to do with it? Eliot looked over at her quizzically even as he got his feet ready to brake and shift a gear. stupid, but he felt annoyed that she had managed it. He was all about not getting his personal space invaded and getting in others instead. She had made a fool of him, and it stung.

"Always that same pocket."

"Jesus Parker so I'll switch pockets, you tryin' to teach me a lesson? I never even noticed the damn cash missing so-"

"I like lifting from that pocket on you. It's always...warm. You bury the cash deep and I have to get real close to yo-"

The truck came to a screeching halt as Eliot reacted bodily to her little confession, resulting in the truck being sat across a junction and a couple of other cars on the road beeped in response. Eliot glared at the drivers and they stopped, deciding patience was indeed a virtue.

Parker became silent, and Eliot was suddenly very aware that she was a lot closer than he had noted earlier. A lot closer. And had apparently been a lot closer to particular areas of his anatomy on numerous occasions. Having the ability to pass a lie detector test because of his uncanny physical control of all external emotional markers, the emergency braking was an issue for him. Parker's words seemed to burn into his brain as he replayed them over, and he swallowed as he gained control back, and got the truck moving again.

A lift was a lift right? Eliot told himself to chill the fuck out. Parker had no way meant anything more by her description of the lift, certainly not what his dirty mind was suggesting. She couldn't have meant that, though his fertile imagination was now insisting she did. She sat quietly in her seat and he could swear she cast a look his way, and if he didn't know how clueless she was about shit like this, he would have called it appraising. Sly even. Not evil sly, but knowing. Which proved how much of a dick he was being about her confession, since if Parker was anything, it was not knowing. Not, he quickly adjusted his thinking, that there was anything to know. That was just...

He yanked at the volume on the radio, and tried to let the music drown out the direction his thoughts were going in. Because his mind was now re-enacting Parker performing such a lift, darting her hand into his pocket, sliding in down his inner thigh to reach his-cash. To reach his cash. What the hell was going on with him? How could he have not noticed that? Wow, he needed to re evaluate his training cos it was obviously failing. The notion of being viscerally aware of her hand sliding into his pocket made him clench his teeth. Damn him but he was sorry he'd missed it. Rolling In The Deep was playing on the radio, that English chick's song that was all over the place right now. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time, then grew uncomfortable and turned the volume back down again. He stiffened internally when Parker spoke up again.

"So you forgive me? We're still going to the wedding?" Hopeful, and innocent. Man he was a lech, and what a time to be one, so inappropriately, so badly timed, taking her words in a weird way when this was Parker. Parker! Sheesh.

"Sure. But Parker?" She looked him right in the eye as he asked, and he was pleased that his voice was back to its gruff gravel and no longer raging or sharp. "No more lifts on me OK? Just ask."

Since he was becoming his own worst enemy on this trip, he almost thought he saw a flash of something in her eyes. Frustration most likely as she liked to steal did Parker.

"No problem." She acquiesced easily, and smiled brightly at him. Then she leant down and lifted a soda and a juice from the collection of stuff she had ripped from the gas station. She tossed the juice to his lap and he picked up the carton, reading the flavour. Apple.

"Thanks." He managed to undo and insert the straw with one hand and began to suck when she spoke again, her can of soda poised at her mouth for a swig.

"You could always switch up pockets to make it more interesting for me. As long as its your jeans you stash it in though. I like pant pockets best."

Eliot literally had to stop juice squirting painfully from his nose as her words computed. He caught her eyes, all wide and guileless, but burning through his like infra-red lasers and felt something he hadn't felt in a very very long time.

Nervous.

"Parker I don't think you should be practising lifts on me at all." Jesus Christ this was awkward.

"If you want." She shrugged casually, and he narrowed his eyes.

"I do." Man he was not dealing well with this he decided, downing the juice like it was a restorative nectar. He was getting paranoid about his and Parker's relationship because of the Hardison thing. The dynamic was all whacked now, and invisible lines were being drawn, and adhered to but only, it appeared, by him. What was wrong with her and H anyhow? Eliot sure as hell wouldn't let his girlfriend swan off for a weekend with another guy. Then winced at that thought. H trusted him and Parker. No good ragging on the guy for trusting them, that was twisted. He should be able to trust them unconditionally. They were a team for Chrissake.

"Pity. It would be way more rewarding now you know I do it. Did it I mean." A mischievous smile dissolved into serious contemplation as he watched and Parker become wistful about the loss of access to his nether region pockets. Shit. He glanced at the pile of junk in the foot well. Suddenly he understood the need to comfort eat.

"Parker."

"Yes Eliot?" So polite, and crazy (and maybe cunning) like a fox, the little blonde devil invading his truck and head.

"Hand me a friggin' cookie and stop talking."

She passed him one in silence and he bit hard, steering with one hand and grounding the cookie up into dust in his mouth. He was starting to wonder if they'd make it through Connecticut let alone to New York. His truck, now Parker sat in it, had transformed into a mine field of a sort he had no clue how to navigate. He figured silence was the best option. But doubted it would last long, as Parker darted glances his way, her expression unreadable for once. Her phone beeped and she shuffled it from her back pocket to glance at the screen. A couple of minutes after scrutinising the screen, she sighed. Don't ask, don't get involved, stay mute, Eliot warned himself, and clenched the wheel as she piped up.

"Can I ask you a question Eliot?" No. Never again you minx.

"Sure Parker." Why fight it he figured with a mental shrug. Girl was gonna drive him insane anyway.

"If someone puts an x at the end of a message what does it mean?"

Oh double frick and a side of fuck.

"It's a kiss Parker, you know that. I know you know that. You do know that right?"

"Really? I thought it was marking the spelling, which is appalling by the way. C U Soon? Even I can spell that."

"It's text speak. Like shorthand." He strove for patience, though secretly he agreed. He hated all that l8ter crap. "It's a sign of affection that's all."

"Hmmm." She slipped into deep thought, though for all he knew she was planning her next heist or considering the teachings of Buddha. Who could tell with her? He focused on the radio output and the road. Tried to.

"Eliot?"

"Yes Parker?" Warily he responded. He refused to look her way though. Not getting suckered in. No way. Her fingers quick on the cell, made him twitch in his seat, now he had the image and false memory of said fingers rummaging in his pocket.

"Should I put an x on my message? I don't do texts. Is it rude not to if someone does it to you?" She actually sounded concerned about it.

"Do I look like I'm a big texter darlin'? I don't know." Exasperated with the entire thing he frowned at her, and she smiled.

"OK." She hit send. He found that he had a burning need to know if she had put a damn x on her stupid text. The not knowing as she hummed and looked out of the window broke him after two minutes, which should have set off warning bells since he could hold his breath longer than that but he paid it no mind.

"Well?"

"Huh?"

"Did you put a kiss on it or not?"

"Not." The lightening of a weight in his chest was ridiculous and a result of the apple juice and cookie passing down to his gut. Eliot nodded, as if agreeing with himself.

"I figured if I had to ask, I knew already." Sometimes, Eliot thought, looking at his blonde passenger, the thief was wiser than folks gave her credit for. "I'll know when I know."

And that had Eliot feeling weird all over again. He stared at the GPS and cursed. Miles and miles of road to go, and hours and hours of Parker. Crazy ass infuriating sneaky sexy Parker. Hardison's Parker.

"Give me another damn cookie." Parker passed one without comment.