It was moving day. Well, for four of them at least. For Eliot it was still laying on the couch and gripping about it day. Sophie was dispatched to go pack his things from his apartment while Parker would head to her place so she could gather her belongings. Nate would be driving over to the new place to write the check, sign the month to month lease and pick up the keys. And Hardison was on keeping Eliot from doing anything too strenuous duty, if you called it babysitting the hitter might just have to take you out without standing and only using the unstrapped fingers on his left hand...and if you didn't think that was a possibility you were highly underestimating Eliot Spencer.

Sophie wasn't at all surprised by what she found in Eliot's apartment. The place was Spartan to put it mildly. The furnishings were simple, a little dated but well kept. Everything was spotlessly clean but lacked any real character unless you counted an odd assortment of books, all neatly shelved against one wall in the living room. Eliot had everything there from the classics of Poe, Dickens and Shakespeare to military novels about the most implausible conspiracy theories to well documented actual historical events and battles. A smattering of contemporary authors including Dean Koontz, Michael Crichton and...Stephanie Meyer? Eliot had a copy of Twilight? Sophie simply couldn't keep her fingers off that and the cover cracked open to the thirty second page, it looked like he had gotten no further. She sat it aside with a grin and promised to ask him about that later. His kitchen was organized to perfection, and very well stocked; she checked the refrigerator quickly and found very few perishables, on garbage day she'd make sure to stop by and clean it out for him. The thought of him coming home after his recovery to his immaculate kitchen reeking of rotting food in the fridge was just too ignorant for words. It would have shown a horrible lack of consideration on her part and since she certainly didn't feel that way about him, she would hate for such a lack to convey something that erroneous. She also knew that Eliot would appreciate her effort.

His bedroom contained a queen sized bed; covered in cotton sheets and made up military style with neatly tucked in edges, a single large dresser held the majority of his clothing, and in the closet she'd find an array of dressier items, many of which she could tie to one job they had pulled or another. Her manicured finger tips ran over the row of garments, her smile widened remembering a particular shirt, or a pair of pants; a few of which she had chosen herself. She didn't pick any of these for him though, she'd stick with two pairs of jeans, a few pairs of lounge pants, a half dozen comfortable tee-shirts, a couple of his favored dark colored hooded jackets, and a few handfuls of socks and boxers.

She stopped in the bathroom next and wasn't at all surprised to find it just as clean as the rest of the apartment. The medicine cabinet was well stocked with first aid supplies. He had everything in there from Neosporin to suture and needles. In the cabinet beneath the sink she found an assortment of braces for knees, ankles, wrists, elbows, and an arm sling. Sad but not surprising, in Eliot's line of work injuries were as common as a file clerk making photocopies. Even so, it made her think about how often Eliot had returned home alone when the job was done and spent the hours that she used to unwind to patch himself up and treat his wounds.

"Oh, Eliot..." She mused. "When will you realize your not alone in this anymore?"

She made a quick mental note of his preferences on toiletries and left what she found there intact. On her way out she grabbed him two pairs of tennis shoes and a warm fall jacket in black corduroy out of his hall closet. She had stuffed the large duffel bag she had brought with her and left it sitting by the door while she checked to make sure all his windows were locked, that he didn't have any fish to feed or plants to water and that in general his apartment wouldn't need any attention while he was away. When she was certain that everything was well and good she left, locked up behind herself and headed down to the car with his bag. She would meet the rest of the team at the new place after she took care of some grocery shopping and such.

Parker had make the trip to her place. As much as she didn't want to leave Eliot alone, there was no choice. Anyone else would get fried to a crisp if they tried to get in alone. The security system was pure Parker. Every motion, every step, every breath someone other than she took into her home would trigger an alarm, and only three out of the dozen weren't considered traditionally fatal. From the keypad and fingerprint reader at the front door to the laser beam field that surrounded her bed everything was state of the art. But when you literally slept on top of a couple million dollars in cash, you wanted everything to be secure while you were away. As far as personal belongings, her place made Eliot's look luxurious. All her clothes fit neatly into two suitcases, the only remaining items were leftovers from various cons; and she didn't feel a need to pack them. She snatched Moppet from her bed, grabbed her toothbrush and was ready to go in less than five minutes.

Nate headed over to the new apartment to take care of business. They had been very pleased to find a place so quickly where they felt Eliot would be safe during his recovery. They had stressed the urgency of their need as he was a relative from out of town that required an apartment he could occupy immediately that would have certain amenities. It had to be on the first floor, or at least on one floor with an elevator. It needed to be close to family; in this case McRory's; and the hospital so he could make his follow up appointments. It needed to be quiet, no children running the halls, no loud neighbors, and that made security a must so that no one could just walk up to his door and disturb the man while he was resting. In short, finding all that was quiet an accomplishment, but when the actual rent wasn't a problem, you'd be amazed what you could find in a day.

The apartment itself was cozy. Two bedrooms, living room and an eat in kitchen. A small garden and patio, a walk in shower with a bench and a jacuzzi tub. The color scheme was neutral in tone, and the furnishings were casual in the same subdued shades. The master bedroom would be Eliot's, although Parker wouldn't be a second class citizen in the other room as it was still more than adequate with a beautiful view of the Boston Public garden across the way. The kitchen was easily a large and well appointed as Nate's and with Sophie doing the shopping it should be well stocked before the occupants arrived. Nate settled in on the couch to wait for the team, a brandy in one hand and the remote to the flat screen television in the other.

Sophie would arrive first and together they could unpack the car, put away the groceries and unpack Eliot's bags.

Parker headed back to Nate's to help Hardison with Eliot.

Poor Hardison. When Parker had mentioned that Eliot was stubborn Alec had vastly underestimated that claim. And he should have known better. He had expected Eliot to stay on the couch and watch television, to ask for anything he needed and in general to put sane and rational ahead of stubborn and proud. Boy had he misjudged his team mate. They had started arguing over coffee. Obviously, Hardison didn't make it right and Eliot felt inclined to show him what he had done wrong, or at least to do it himself. He obviously didn't plan on shifting from couch to chair and to be pushed into the kitchen to do that either. He had every intention of getting up and walking, well limping there.

"Look man, if Parker gets back here and finds you up and moving around...or worse on your face on the floor it will be my ass. And frankly that lil bit of nothing scares me way worse than you do. So for my sake. Keep your ass on that couch and I'll figure out the coffee."

And that had just been the beginning. After coffee it had been all about breakfast, and again it had turned into Hardison playing the Parker card, and Eliot snarling at him. Then it had been the bathroom. Okay Eliot had him there, but even so he knew that Parker wouldn't be happy if she found out that he had helped Eliot make across the apartment instead of using the wheelchair like he was supposed to. Regardless, no mishaps had occurred.

Then it had been a matter of entertaining the hitter. And that wasn't easy either. There was nothing on television, and every time Hardison flipped the channel Eliot growled at him. Okay so channel surfing was obnoxious but seriously, what else was he supposed to do. Finally, Alec stopped on TNT and found some reruns of a 90's modern/vampire show and considering that much of the plot had to do with violence and fighting it was amusing enough for Eliot.

Parker arrived while they were still watching Angel.

"Dude, I have no idea what your talking about. Remember I didn't sit at home watching this shit when it aired a decade ago."

"Man you don't get it this is a classic. Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series...it opened doors man. Joss Whedon created his own universe and it is still alive and kicking. The Whedonverse will be here forever.."

"So he's a vampire with a soul? Whats the big deal? And he works out of a hotel in LA like a PI...okay I get that but what's up with the lawyers?"

"Oh, that's Wolfram and Hart...they're lawyers. Like root of all evil lawyers."

"So which one is that Wolfram or Hart?"

"Neither, that's Lindsey."

"Lindsey? That's a girls name..."

"Lindsey is a unisex name and he's pretty cool for a bad guy. They bring him back here and there, he's great in the last season...you know you kinda...Naw, never mind."

"I kinda what?"

"I said never mind."

"Dude spit it out, you know I hate that shit."

Parker walked in and looked at them both quizzically, and then took a glance at the television screen just in time to see some guy get his hand chopped off.

"Ouch."

Her head canted to the left for a second as she considered something about what she saw, and then the actor turned and faced the camera and it dawned on her.

"Wow, Eliot...you look so much like him. I mean your bigger, and rougher, he's prettier...but he could be your clone."

"Is that what you were gonna say Hardison? That I look like some pretty boy evil lawyer with a girls name?"

"No man that was absolutely not what I was going to say."

"Why not?" Parker looked at Eliot and winked. "He's really cute, and the hand thing...kinda symbolic at the moment."

Eliot glared at them both and Hardison shut off the television.

"So we all ready to go guys?"

"Oh yeah." Hardison rose and stretched; and left them to gather up his laptop and jacket. While Eliot pushed back the blankets and made to push himself up from the couch.

"Ah, don't think so Mister. Park it." She narrowed her eyes at the hitter and he paused mid motion and settled back onto the sofa with a sneer and a shake of his head. She didn't budge and inch., just stood there with her hand planted firmly on her hips and stared him down.

"Sit and stay. Got it?"

She headed off to find Eliot some socks and shoes and returned with them, a hairbrush and a elastic band to hold his hair back. She dropped the shoes on the floor next to his feet for the moment and came up beside him on the couch, and perched on her knees to begin brushing the sleep snarls out of his hair.

"So how you feeling? You didn't give Hardison too rough a time did you? You took your meds and all that?"

"Yes Mom, I took my pills. You know I can..."

"Really, you want to try?"

Eliot held out his marginally more useful hand and she gave him the brush. The first couple passes weren't too rough, awkward yes without being able to bend his wrist or use most of his fingers but he could manage. It was only when he had to turn his head and lift his arm and try to get under his hair to the worst of the knots that it became really difficult. It was only when he dropped the brush that he stopped though.

"Damn it."

"Want to let me finish now?"

"Whatever."

She shook her head and took the brush again, and set to work on the tangles in his hair. And while she usually would have just had at it with the brush this time she was far more gentle. She didn't tug or pull, knowing that with a concussion he already had a headache that he wasn't mentioning.

"You know tomorrow you'll be able to do this yourself. Just today, we didn't get to wash your hair last night and it's all snarled up in the back from laying on the couch. Otherwise you would have done okay."

She hated the look he got when he tried and failed at something. She knew that such simple things made him feel so pathetically inadequate at the moment and he was anything but.

"It's just gonna take a little time Sparky. You know better than the rest of us that a broken bone just needs time to heal. Really how many have you broken?"

"I stopped counting at twenty five."

"And how many of them healed over night?"

"None."

"And these ones aren't going to either." She smiled and leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of his head while admiring her perfect half ponytail, the way he often wore his hair, top back, bottom loose. "And your done, see not half bad."

"Thanks Parker." He smiled and looked over to her. His damaged eye was just starting to slit open, it looked awful but she could see a faint sliver of blue between the swollen upper and lower lids. Somehow it made the hue of the other orb that much more brilliant. It wasn't the first time she noticed that Eliot had pretty blue eyes, but it was the first time they struck her so completely.

"Wow, knock me over with a feather why don't ya?"

She shook it off though and moved to help him with his socks and shoes.

All the while Hardison watched from the doorway behind them, amazed by what he was seeing. Not that he hadn't always known that Parker had a heart of gold inside her. Not that he hadn't seen her compassion, and her kindness. He had just never been an audience to it as he was right then. It had him a little jealous when she leaned down and kissed the hitter; it made him a lot jealous when Eliot look up to her like that and smiled his gratitude.

He walked it with his jacket on and Eliot's in his hand.

"You two about ready we got Nate and Sophie waiting at the apartment."

And if he thought he had been jealous a moment ago it was nothing compared to what he felt at the moment as he considered the fact that Eliot and Parker would be living together, alone but together in the new place. Ah, no he didn't like that one bit. And the more he saw of them and how they were acting with one another the less he liked it. Everything no matter how small suddenly held a new meaning for him. And he told himself over and over again that he was imagining things. He was seeing things that weren't there because it was Parker and he had real feelings for the girl. But he couldn't deny what he saw, and as she tied Eliot's Nike's and rose he had to hide that look from her before she saw it for herself.

He was even more amazed when Eliot let Parker slip his jacket over his shoulders and then helped him from the couch to the wheelchair without so much as an obligatory snap or bark. Alec was shouldering his laptop bag when the pair reached the door and Parker trotted back for something and returned with a pair of Eliot's sunglasses.

Hardison just watched as one thing seemed to lead to another. Eliot making concessions due to his injuries that he still wouldn't have made if anyone else was offering the help other than Parker. He was even joking with her about it, rather than biting off her head. And Parker, yes she still quipped like only Parker could but her focus on Eliot was almost as crystal clear as she would have been on a heist. Everything from how he wore his hair to remembering his sunglasses. Watching the corners and doorways so she didn't bump his injured leg. Even her hand coming to rest on his shoulder while they waited at the curb for Hardison to open the car door for them, and someone stopped and stared for a second at the poor guy in the chair.

Parker, Ms Twenty Pounds of Crazy, her deceptively delicate hand helping the hitter keep his cool when he wanted to tell the woman on the sidewalk to keep moving and stop staring. When had Parker become this calming presence? It was amazing to behold.

But then again Hardison had always known she had it in her, she just needed the right person to bring it to the surface.

He had just never thought that right person would be Eliot.