Abby hated dresses, but Sophie did seem to adore dressing people up and as such, her role in the con involved a slinky dress and stilettos. She was more than certain that Nate had manipulated her role as some sort of twisted gift for his "not really" girlfriend. That or he was exacting revenge. Or both. He was a mastermind after all, two birds with one stone was kind of his specialty.
The European woman had gotten some kind of sick pleasure out of decking the Australian out in jewels, making up her face, inflicting wardrobe preferences on her. But Abby did have to hand it to him, the elaborate plan was quite complex, and she wasn't certain it would work, but it was impressive none the less.
Plus getting to grift as a princess did have its appeal, even if it meant that she had to wear the skin tight dress, and teeter precariously on tooth picks that really did nothing except for serve to help objectify women. And for some reason, her friend loved them.
Abby wrapped the faux fur shawl around her arms, Sophie had tried for real fur, but Abby would have none of it, and she strutted up the steps to an office building. Her accent was undistinguishable to the average person, only that it sounded foreign, exotic.
"Excuse me ma'am," the gangly boy at the front desk stopped her, "do you have an appointment?" Abby sent him a reproachful look.
"Yes. Emeliana Tupou, I have an appointment with Brendan Jacobs." She turned up her nose at him.
"I'm sorry ma'am; you're not on his list for today." The boy apologized, a slightly terrified look on his face.
"You don't know who I am, do you," her voice was suddenly almost sympathetic, caring. He shook his head and she leaned in close, the boy's eyes drifting lower.
"I'm a princess," she whispered into his ear.
"Of where?" he gulped softly.
"An island in the Pacific," she replied simply, "May I go see Mr. Jacobs? My father has business with him." Only then did the boy notice the large man hanging just off her right, a friend of Abby's evening out a favor.
"O-of course, ma'am," the boy stuttered. Abby just patted him on the shoulder and moved on.
Br
Eliot had located the bookshelf quickly after lunch, and with delightfully full stomachs, he and Fitzgerald had settled on the couch with a book. He was in his second novel, having devoured the first alternating between flipping pages and scratching Fitzgerald behind the ears when he heard Parker call for him.
He tucked a bookmark between the pages and set the novel on the coffee table. Fitzgerald followed him into the master bedroom, jumping up onto the bed. She squealed loudly as the fluffy monster licked her face, and Eliot couldn't help but laugh before commanding the dog down.
"I forgot that we have a dog," she giggled, her voice still husky from sleep.
"I did too, Abby brought him by." Eliot sat on the corner of the bed, looking at her critically, and Parker couldn't help but feel a little exposed. She had seen firsthand what he could tell by just a look. "How are you feeling?"
She smiled at him, though he could tell she was in pain. "I'm okay, a little hungry," she shifted up into a sitting position, leaning against the wooden headboard.
"Don't stress your stitches," he warned, watching carefully for any sign of her having pulled them loose. When satisfied that she hadn't done any damage, he stood up. "What would you like to eat? A sandwich or something lighter?" he asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes, and Parker caught a glint of the platinum band with a small smile.
"Can I have cereal on the side?" she looked up at him with wide, sad eyes, and when Fitzgerald mirrored the look, Eliot was certain that he was being conspired against, but he still couldn't say no.
"Fine, but you can't pick the lettuce off the sandwich," he warned, refusing to admit defeat entirely.
She nodded in agreement happily and he left the room.
"You are just the cutest puppy ever," she informed Fitzgerald matter of factly, petting his head with her good arm. He barked in reply.
"You're just like Eliot," she smiled as she educated the dog, "you think you're scary but you're not. You are just too cute." She whispered the last part. Eliot wasn't scary but he wouldn't be happy if he heard her call him cute.
"And you have soft fur. Eliot's hair is really soft too, but I'm not allowed to pet it because he thinks that it's weird, so I only can when he's asleep."
She was still talking to the dog when Eliot walked into the room carrying a sandwich and a disappointingly small bowl of cereal. She scarfed down the cereal and struggled through the first half of the sandwich. Eliot took pity on her when he saw her eying the second half.
"You don't have to finish it all if you're full," he relented and she handed the plate to him with a sigh of relief.
"Thank god, I didn't think there was any way I was going to finish that!" Parker exclaimed dramatically. "Will you watch a movie with me?" She called after him as he brought the dishes into the kitchen, and he knew he should have expected that, what with the way she had been glancing up at the television while eating.
"Sure," he agreed, and she patted the bed next to her, insisting that he join her. The king sized bed was plenty large enough, and he settled comfortably on the bed as far from her as he could get. "What do you want to watch?" Eliot asked, fumbling with the remote before he finally pulled up Netflix.
"Duck Soup," she replied promptly, and Eliot looked over at her in surprise.
"Marx Brothers?" He wasn't sure what he had expected her to say, but that wasn't it at all. Maybe a Disney or Pixar movie, and he had to remind himself that she wasn't all childlike innocence. Odd considering he occasionally had to remind himself of just the opposite.
"Yes." She informed him, "It's my favorite." He just selected it with a shrug.
He wasn't really surprised when she tugged on his sleeve. Parker wasn't fond of physical contact, but he had always been the exception and she always seemed to sit with her arm and leg flush with his. As far as she was concerned, if she couldn't shift closer to him, it was Eliot's obligation to do so instead. He rolled his eyes anyway and pushed Fitzgerald down to the foot of the bed before placing himself directly next to her, with as little disturbance as possible.
She settled into his side immediately, resting her head on his shoulder, and Eliot let out a low growl, feeling a bit like a pillow when Fitzgerald returned to the head of the bed, taking residence on Eliot's other side, head in his lap.
Parker's giggles died down and her breathing evened out after a little while, and Eliot knew that she had fallen asleep again, though he didn't check for fear of disturbing her, and relaxed a but, drifting off himself.
They were still like that when Sophie, Nate and Hardison showed up. Eliot perked up immediately at the sound of the front door opening, but he remained put. He could tell from the voices who it was, and he didn't see any reason to wake Parker up.
"Eliot?" Sophie called, and Fitzgerald darted out to greet them. The hitter chucked at the shriek from the other room, certain that the enthusiastic dog had landed a kiss on the woman before Eliot called out.
"Back here," he tried to keep his voice from waking Parker, but she didn't even stir, and the rest of the team appeared in the door. Sophie raised an eyebrow suggestively and Eliot was a little too quick to explain.
"She fell asleep while watching a movie," he nodded to the paused screen on the TV.
Hardison, Eliot could practically feel the quietly brewing jealousy inside the man, and the ache in his back informed the Hitter that there really wasn't anything to be jealous of, aside from being just the appropriate height for her to rest her head on his shoulder.
"How is she doing?" Nate asked with concern. He'd never tell her, but Parker was like the daughter he'd never had, and like the child he had lost.
"Not sure exactly, she's still a little doped up on pain killers," Eliot explained, and the blond haired girl finally started to wake. Sophie, mother hen, was at her side immediately.
"Parker," she smiled at the younger woman.
"Sophie," Parker smiled in return through her yawn, eyes still half closed. "Sophie," she repeated, her voice much less… happy.
"What is it?" Sophie was confused, though not entirely, she did have her suspicions.
"You called Abby," Parker's voice was accusing, and the men were all surprised at her tone, Eliot less so than the others. Sophie nodded; Parker had confirmed what she had suspected.
"We talked about this, Parker; Abby is your friend, like Peggy is your friend."
Parker glared but didn't respond, and Eliot was certain there was more to it than that but kept his mouth shut.
"Is Eliot taking good care of you?" Nate asked with an eyebrow raised. He was still not entirely convinced that the hitter possessed any sort of caring instincts. Parker nodded, trying to stretch without causing excess pain. Eliot scooted away from her at the opportunity, not about to let her lay back down on him.
Nate followed Eliot into the kitchen, leaving the grifter and the hacker to entertain Parker. A good thing, Eliot reasoned. Out of the limelight of the hospital, Hardison could finally fully express his concern, and Eliot wasn't quite sure why that thought made his stomach clench.
"I know we didn't really give you much choice about caring for her. I really hope you don't mind," Nate spoke, though his attention was following the dog, ensuring that the mutt didn't get too close.
It wasn't lost on Eliot, who stifled laughter at the idea that their mastermind was afraid of dogs. "Nah, man, I volunteered when I said she was my wife," he corrected, pulling a glass out of the cabinet and filling it with water.
"Yeah, but you had no idea how much it would actually entail," Nate reminded the hitter, and Eliot couldn't help but feel like the man was trying to play mind games with him.
"It's okay, really Nate," he replied more firmly. "It's the least I can do for her. I owe her this much."
Nate raised an eyebrow but didn't push the subject any further. Eliot just collected the medication that Parker was scheduled to take and wandered back into the bedroom, water in hand.
Br
"Excuse me, Miss, but I'm a bit busy right now." Jacobs waved her off as Abby opened the door. She waited for him to look up before replying.
"Actually, you're busy with me. We have an appointment." She walked into the office, a subtle yet affective sway in her hips before she sat down in the chair across from him, one long slender leg crossed over the other.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are." She could feel his eyes raking over her body and had to resist the sudden violent urge to vomit.
"I'm Emeliana Tupou," she replied, "Crowned princess of Tonga." The man's eyes widened at that, though she could tell that he doubted her to some extent. "My father, King George Tupou the fifth has a proposition for the man you work for."
BR
The gang had all shuffled out when the nurse had arrived. Eliot took it as an opportunity to unpack all of their things after apologizing to the nurse Marie about the state of the house. They hadn't had a chance to unpack after returning from their visit to his mother's.
"You have a lovely home," Marie commended as she peeled the bandage off of Parker's abdomen, revealing the nasty looking staples and what Parker knew was going to be a gnarly scar. Scars had never bothered her before, so long as they weren't on her face. She didn't like being easily distinguishable. But she could only imagine how ugly it would look all healed up, awkward puckered knotted flesh on her otherwise smooth pale skin.
"Thank you," Parker managed, "Alex was behind most of it though." Easier to pin the blame on Eliot.
"He's quite the looker isn't he," Marie commented with a smile, flushing the stitches with a saline solution. "How did you two meet?"
Parker tensed for a moment. "He was working for a delivery company that I use for orders for the bakery. Used to deliver our dry ingredients every Tuesday," she finally lied, elaborating slightly on the cover, and she was sure that Sophie would be proud. If she cared what Sophie thought right now, which she didn't? Obviously.
"Ah," Marie placed a fresh bandage over the wound. "A diamond in the rough?" It was fairly obvious that 'Alex' was no longer a delivery man, what with the nice apartment and the lack of worry about the medical bills though they both lacked health insurance.
"You really have no idea," Parker muttered.