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Having a break in to organise was exactly what Parker needed.
A call down to Jenny proved fruitful, and whilst Eliot changed from his sweats into jeans and a shirt, iced his arm for a spell, and watched the sports updates on the TV she still had trouble looking at, she dried off more thoroughly, threw her half dry clothes into her bag, brushed her teeth and her hair, and waited. She could hear Eliot arguing with the plays and then with himself. Weird. Since he had a sandwich named after him, he was quite the baseball fan too. Though he still refused to admit it.
She checked her phone again.
Hardison had texted her quite a lot when she was driving and Eliot slept. Sent her a picture of him in the middle of a group of fellow Horde folk, whatever they were, to say he had arrived safe. His familiar grin was comforting. Looking at his face now, she got a knot where her heart was, and bit her lip. Comforting was good.
He had asked if there were two tents and sent a pic of him frowning at her, like, don't be a bad girl Parker. She had told him the sleeping arrangements were sorted and left it at that. What else could she say that wasn't a lie? She didn't want to do that. Lie to him. She found her fingers on the keys of her phone, slipping over the letters, looking for inspiration. She felt like she had to say something, tell him something, in the wake of what had happened on the terrace, but wasn't sure what. She was new to this dating thing. Was it appropriate to tell him about the hug? To tell him that Eliot had held her when she was sad, and that for a moment, a long moment, she had wanted to lose herself in more than an friendly cuddle? She was pretty sure that would not go over well. And Sophie would not approve. She cooed over her and Hardison. Parker knew instinctively that would not be the case with Eliot. The clean lines of her affection for Hardison, and the mess Eliot created within her were completely different. Sophie wanted the sweet clean lines for her. Not the mess. Parker watched TV sometimes. She knew that Hardison was the nice guy. He named his truck Lucille for Gods sake. Still mourned her too bless his strange self. He was the one you took home to your mother. But Parker thought about that and figured she didn't have a mother. She had monsters in her past. And Eliot was the choice to meet them for sure. But that was a silly thought, since Parker had slain her own demons and learned to live with those who refused to budge. So that wasn't helpful either.
It took fifteen minutes before the service hatch dinged, and Eliot let her be as she brooded. Parker hated brooding, but had a knack for it when needed. She hopped off the counter as the hatch sounded and felt a rush sweep her from her confused thoughts. The adrenalin that she adored before a job swept her jumbled reflections away, and replaced them with the intoxicating thrill of the work.
Jenny had done her proud and managed to source, who knew where, a pair of black jeans and a black long sleeved tee shirt. She was a little bummed that the job did not need a costume. She rocked her FBI jacket. And she was getting into the whole grifting thing, it was fun to be other people. She could do with being someone else right about now. Though she doubted Alice could cope either. Maybe Hagen? Enough Parker. She was looping and it was not helpful. Shaking off Ms Pitstop, who had cried like a baby, she got her head in the game, shedding the robe and towel in exchange for the new gear.
In the living room, she stood waiting for Eliot to notice, hands on hips. He was pretty engrossed, before glancing over distractedly.
"Oh hey Parker." Then returned to watching the high lights.
"Chop chop Eliot, places to go, Tiffany's to rob." She tapped the invisible watch on her arm.
"Ah. We're really doin' that huh?" He took a pull of soda and sighed, before switching the TV off and standing. "So. What's the play? Let me clear our stuff out of here too."
"They have a maid service."
"Yeah? We got two hands too. Move it lazy ass." God he was infuriating when he was right. Fine. She jogged upstairs and checked the bedroom for anything she may have left.
Downstairs, Eliot was waiting at the door with the bags, shirt rolled back to his elbows.
"You did the dishes didn't you?"
"What? Maybe. So."
"They collect the dishes. Jeez what is it with you and bubbles?"He hustled her through the door, eyes darting to check the passage first, and she grinned as he tried to hide a smirk. "It is the bubbles you like isn't it Eliot? The pretty bubbles?"
"Keep it up Pitstop. Muttley bites you know." Parker's stomach flipped at the tease she would once have laughed off. She laughed anyway. She felt giddy. She managed not to clap her hands though.
"We'll pick the truck up now. You get to be Clyde again. I guess this was a pointless layover after all." Though it didn't feel like it. In fact, Parker wondered if part of her had bought him here just to share the secret. Not the kids, that was still raw, thinking how he had had seen her weakness, but the place. That she had something like it, and could surprise him when she wanted. It made her think.
"It wasn't pointless Parker." His tone caught her attention and she met his eyes as they called the service elevator. He was slick, his hair tied back, his shirt loose over his tee shirt, his jeans ripped but clean. He was handsome she realised, not that she hadn't thought it before, but, he was really really handsome. He raised an eyebrow at her. She felt her cheeks redden. "I never had such good steak before." His words penetrated her embarrassment and she rolled her eyes.
"I'm still surprised you didn't insist on meeting the cow it came from."
"Nothin' wrong with being careful darlin'."
"Right. Because meeting the cow and interviewing it would help how?"
"Parker how in hell does a man interview a cow? Seriously, there's something wrong with you."
The doors opened and they got inside, and Parker used the key card Jenny had given them to access the car park on the lower ground floor and leant on the back rail, watching Eliot. He leant on the rail to the side, and watched her back. She couldn't stop a smile spilt her features, and he ducked his head before grinning back. This was them. They clicked and worked as a team together so well, so many times, that a lot of it came second nature now. Eliot knew to take out the live security, and trusted her to access anywhere. And she could. The few times she had been in a jam he had appeared and knocked out the enemy. Even got himself locked in during the Steranko job to back her up. She smiled again. It was after 2 am, and they were in New York, the place she learned to survive as a kid. Maybe that was why she wanted to stop. This was the place her skills were honed and finessed. This was were Parker, master thief, was born. Perhaps she just needed someone to know that. To know her story.
Watching Eliot, she realised that Hardison should have gotten her story. Well, the parts she was willing to share anyway. Yet she didn't regret that Eliot got it instead. He was like her. He knew how to keep a secret. Hardison had a habit of over talking. Which helped 70% of the time on a job, but caused problems too. She couldn't help think maybe he would do that for real. Talk too much one day about the thief he dated once and spill her secret. It felt disloyal to think that. But she did. Eliot would not tell. Ever. He had secrets he hid and hid, until they threatened his family, and even then, he kept most back.
The elevator stopped, and they exited, and Eliot clocked the underground security system whilst scanning for hidden dangers. His keys had been sent up with Parker's clothes, and he knew where he was parked so she just let him lead, then almost barrelled into his back when he paused. He glanced at the vehicle he was in front of and motioned for her to look. She did.
"What?" She hissed, not sure what he was saying. He rolled his eyes and widened them, making a look closer face. She sighed, and looked again. Still nothing. She shrugged and he blew his cheeks out in exasperation.
"Do you people not pay attention to anythin' I teach you? Diplomatic plates. Explains the goons in the lobby. Probably a South African dictator or some crap."
"Don't tell me, it's a very distinctive car?" She grinned, not above teasing him even when she had grand theft on her mind. He looked at her funny.
"It's just a car Parker. Man you guys really need to lose the sarcasm, it's makin' y'all bitter."
She snorted at that. Then the truck was open and they were in, and she passed the key card back at the gate, feeling like she owed Jenny one. Maybe she would steal her the Tiffany Yellow Diamond? That would be nice.
Tiffany's was literally round the block. As Eliot pulled up beside Abercrombie and Fich down the street, he was not happy. She realised he might have forgotten about the Trump Tower being so close. Like Super close. Like next door. She wondered how he going to take the news when she broke it to him. Her plan was pretty thrilling. Oh the whole place was thief heaven. Bulgari opposite, Van Cleef, Gucci. Louis Vuitton. Bergdorff Goodman...Lots and lots of Sophieness.
"So what's the deal here Parker? How you getting in?" He parked, and began a death stare match with a cabbie he stole the spot from. The cabbie was one of New York's finest and wasn't scared easy. It took about fifteen seconds before he looked away.
"Oh you know, the usual. Jump off the Trump Tower and go in from the roof. Happy? Let's go." She got out like lightning but he followed with an alacrity that always shocked her.
"Hold up Parker, jus' hold the hell up." If his hair was down, she knew he'd be sweeping it back about now. "And what's your big plan on gettin' us in there?"
"I was thinking you could work out the details. I mean, I'm doing all the hard stuff."
"I swear to God Parker, I could just..." He clenched and unclenched his fists and she watched unmoved. He was quite theatrical was Eliot. Hands on hips, she waited.
"God damn it." He pulled out his phone and made a call, walking away from her as he did so, and she craned to hear his conversation. He snapped it shut and walked back. Opening the back seat, he yanked off his shirt and pulled out a white one from his bag, and a suit jacket. In about two minutes, he was high end security. Complete with credentials. Parker was never sure if his were real or not. It made her curious.
"C'mere." He pulled her forward and she yelped, scowling, but he ignored her and mussed up her hair, making it as big as a haystack, and then grabbed something from the dash. "Smear this on your mouth." It was a lipstick. In his dash. Huh. Parker was not happy that he had a lipstick in his dash.
"Who's is that?" Why was she asking? Why?
"Sophie's." Well if that wasn't a sucker punch. Feeling strangely winded, Parker just stared at it, and he cussed again, before holding her jaw steady and putting in on her mouth himself with a tender attention that made her madder.
"Why do you have Sophie's lipstick in your truck Eliot?" He smeared her mouth, spreading the colour across her lips and onto her face too. Eliot looked at her like she was talking Spanish. Maybe she should try, she opened her mouth and he answered.
"I like the colour Parker, why'd'you think? She dropped it when I gave her a ride last week."
Oh that was not a good word choice Parker thought, images of Eliot and Sophie riding filling her brain. Her face screwed up in response to the mental torture.
"You think I'd hook up with Sophie? Well thanks Parker. Thanks a lot. Jesus her and Nate-"
"You said that never stopped you before."
Once, he had said that once before on a job and looked at her like he was willing to show her how. As the words came out, Parker was aware that halfway through speaking her tone switched from judgemental to hopeful. Oh wow. How had she managed to start this again? Weren't they supposed to be robbing Tiffany's? Suddenly they were having a conversation without words outside Abercrombie and Fich at 2.30 am, in the middle of New York, that she was not equipped to handle. His eyes bore into hers, and she saw that her snap judgement had hurt him,. Or his pride. Something confusingly male at any rate. But she saw the question too. The would you like it not to stop me question, that had her feeling wobbly as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, his five o clock shadow skimming her cheek.
"Act drunk, young and Texan." Man he was not happy with her. The growl that accompanied his order licked straight down her spine. But she liked it. Then he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder without a second word and marched across to the Tower's entrance. Bouncing upside down, his hand slapping on her ass when it had no real reason to for the fireman's lift he was executing, her hair a wild loose cloud obscuring her vision, Parker wondered what the hell she had gotten herself into.
