Author's Note:
Thanks for sticking with me! I'm glad you haven't forgotten about the story. Since I did make you wait almost a month for the last update, I decided to post another chapter.
WeProvideLeverage: Thanks! It helps to know that people still like it.
Ghee Buttersnaps15 and anothermaggie: I know, I hated the beginning too. You probably are going to have trouble with this next backstory too. But, you have to go through the bad to get to the good.
Swam Fairy: :) Some more backstory for you. Soon I will get into the backstory of why the painting is important and how everything connects. Keep reading!
Hoellenwauwau: I know, and we will see about the misunderstanding. I miss the show too. I really think they could have done another season. I mean, the fanbase is still there.
Again, thanks for reading and for the reviews, keep them coming!
Chapter 11:
"Where are you going?" Hardison asked, as she took a quick bite of her bagel. He watched her suspiciously from across the breakfast table.
"Out. Probably won't be back until late." Parker smiled in his direction, took a swig of orange juice then hopped out of her chair. She moved around the table and gave him a sweet peck on the cheek as she grabbed her leather jacket from the coat rack and put it on.
She was in her heist outfit, Hardison could tell.
"Are you sure I can't join you?" Hardison asked and tried to give a puppy dog face.
Parker's smile got even wider and she walked back over to him, giving him a long, sultry, lingering kiss.
He was still mystified by the kiss even after she had removed her soft lips.
"I'm sorry, it's for a friend." She squeezed his shoulder and finally exited the front door.
Hardison looked down at his bowl of cereal with a disapproving frown. Why won't she just tell me?
This had been happening for over three weeks now and they seemed to have grown more distant than ever. She would cancel on their dinner dates with last minute excuses and in the past week he barely spent a lunch with her. Something was going on, and it was time for him to find out.
He reassured himself that the button cam/voice recording device he placed on her jacket was merely to keep her protected, to make sure she was staying out of danger, but deep in his subconscious, it was his insecurity that was driving his decisions.
Besides, he tried to rationalize, she breaks into all of our homes with her thieving expertise, why can't I plant bugs with mine?
He spent most of the day on his computer, but his mind always wandered back to Parker, where she was, and what she was doing.
The day went by and it appeared as though there was no significant movement from the GPS signal. She probably just left the jacket in her car, he figured. He was curious though, she continued to make her way around one particular two block radius in downtown Portland.
"Is she staking out a building?" He asked himself out loud. She wouldn't do that, he thought. She's learned from the last heist-gone-wrong and she promised the team she would never do another heist on her own.
Afternoon made way to evening and Parker was still out of sight. He had avoided turning on the bug visualizer and sound in order to pretend that he had not invaded her privacy. Once he did that, she would figure it out, he knew it.
At about 6pm, something interesting happened. One second the blip of her tracker was on, and the next it had disappeared. His trackers rarely disconnected, unless she caught him and broke it, which could be entirely plausible, or she was facing a Sterenko Security System.
His breath caught in his throat.
She wouldn't do that, would she?
He paced back and forth in the computer room weighing his options.
Do I follow her, maybe save her life and have her hate me for following her? Or do I trust that she will be okay and come back when she's ready?
His mind continued to flip between possible unending horror at the thought that she might be hurt, or at the thought that she was fine, and soon he would be the one hurt because of her wrath.
Finally, he made a decision, grabbing his phone, which was now uploaded the tracking signal and its last coordinates; he disappeared into the darkening night for downtown Portland.
It took him nearly half an hour to find a good spot and there was still no blip on his GSP tracker. He paced around the building. He was surprised that there were no police cars around, maybe there wasn't actually a break-in and his button cam was just defective.
He looked down at his phone once more as he turned the corner of the building. Suddenly, to his surprise, the blip on the map re-appeared. He had to do a double take to be sure that it was really there. That she was really okay. It appeared as if the blip was right next to him. He had seen it many times before; she was on the roof of the building, directly above him.
He looked up in her direction. The sky was looking cloudy, like it would rain soon, but he didn't care. Taking the risk, he turned on the voice and video feed from the button cam.
He pulled an earpiece out of his pocket to hear her voice, just to make sure she was okay. The phone didn't work as well as his computer system back home, so it took a minute before the static dissipated enough to hear words.
There were two voices, muffled due to some sort of wind interference. He quickly flipped the video feed on.
To his surprise, he noticed that Parker was not alone.
He looked more closely at the screen. Who was that? He was obviously handsome, strong jawline, sitting very close to Parker.
Uneasiness set in him as he impatiently waited for the wind to slow and their voices to be heard more clearly.
What he heard, would scar him forever.
"Are you sure?" He heard Parker say. Her voice was jovial and nervous.
Why would she be nervous? She was never nervous.
"Go on then, my love. Tell me how you feel." The man had a British accent and was laughing as if it were a joke, almost sarcastically.
Hardison froze still. His love? Who's love? Red fire began to spread up his neck. Something was very wrong here.
"Okay…" Parker said awkwardly. "I…uh…I just love you so much. You are the best thing that has ever…uh…ever happened to me."
"Really?" The man said back to her.
Hardison couldn't breathe, couldn't move, all he could do was stand there staring at the man's face that had stolen the love of his life, and watch Parker divulge her true feelings for him.
In all his life he couldn't remember a single moment that had ever broken him the way she just had. His thoughts were interrupted by Parker's voice.
"Yes, really. I have never loved someone as much as I love you. I just…I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
Her voice was so sincere that Hardison almost choked out a sob.
His mind was in a haze, this was too much to handle. This morning seemed like a millennia ago and his body raged from blazing fury, to a cold depression.
How could she do this to him?
The mobile phone slipped out of his hand and crashed onto the cement sidewalk cracking the screen.
The voices in his ear were silent. They were probably in a deep embrace at this point. Who wouldn't be if Parker shared those kinds of feelings with them?
He quickly grabbed the earpiece from his ear and flung it to the ground. His body went rigid and he slammed his foot into the ear bud so it crushed into multiple pieces. He did this over and over again until the ear bud was dust. He wanted to scream, a raging scream, as loudly as his vocal chords would let him, but he didn't.
Without a word, without another thought, he walked straight to his car and drove away.
Parker would not betray him this way. He then promised himself that she would never know how much she really meant to him.
Eliot looked around for possible escapes. There were none. The grungy goons surrounded him, spitting in his direction, growling, some holding metal bars or holding their guns in their holsters.
Eliot knew this would end badly. More than anything he didn't want to start a fight like this in an open market where there were innocent people. What would happen if one of them got hurt? He would never forgive himself.
He knew his best option was to identify the weaker sections of the circle they had enclosed him in, take those guys out and send them on another chase somewhere with a less dense population of women and children.
Making his decision that the southwest section of the circle seemed to be his best bet, he stood facing the three men that he would soon demolish, he lifted his hand and invited them to attack.
He smiled inwardly, enjoying that goons never fail to take threatening bait. Two of the three came at him with a blinding rage.
"When will you learn?" He asked sarcastically as he flung the first, heavier set man, onto his back with a simple grab and twist of the arm. The others barked in rage, onlookers crowding in the background trying to see the fight.
Noise was everywhere, people calling out in different dialects of Spanish and English. Some were calling for the men not to hurt him; others were goading the goons on, as if it were sport.
The second man, also strong came at him with a double fist. Eliot gave a nod of approval as he could already tell this man was better than the last.
They swapped punches, each jabbing, turning, and ducking in the appropriate places. To Eliot this was a dance and a strategy. This man seemed to have gotten the dance right, but the strategy, he easily missed. For, during their fight, Eliot maneuvered himself at an angle to be wide open for an escape. The other goons seemed to be barking and howling like rabid dogs, no one the wiser that Eliot was about to make his move.
He sent another jab in the man's direction, following through with a thundering force, sending the man flying into the opposite side of the circle. He laughed at the thought of himself playing a violent game of Red Rover, as if he were still in elementary school on the playground with his friends.
The moment the second goon was flung into the crowd, he moved backwards, and without looking behind him sent and elbow into the nose of yet another goon. Blood spurt out and the others were enraged. They were prepared to converge, when at the last moment, he turned and sprinted in the other direction.
Eliot could hear hoots and screams from behind from people who had already started betting on the fight. Normally he would stay and fight to the end, but in this instance, that could lead to guns, and Eliot hated guns, especially around young children.
He swerved between market tents, through the back, out to another opening, jumping over fruit stands and tables full of trinkets.
His breath was growing heavy and the sun was beating down on him with an angry glare.
He knew that he would only get slower and he could find no easy exit.
The goons seemed to be getting closer as well. As if they had a second wave, ready to chase. In his opinion, the chasing was all the goons were good for, certainly not for fighting.
He made a turn and to his disappointment, there was no escape.
At the last moment, to his surprise, someone strong grabbed his arm. The momentum flung him backwards as the older woman who caught him shoved him to the ground.
"Get down!" She hissed, shoving him under her fruit stand. He unceremoniously joined the fruit crates behind a heavy woven blanket that acted as a tablecloth for this woman's fruit business.
He tried to slow his breathing, but he was stifling. For a moment he wondered where Parker went, but quickly dismissed it as he heard loud barking voices draw close.
"Where is he? Find him, NOW!" A man screeched.
The bumbling goons surrounded the area, trying to turn every stone. Fortunately for him, they didn't take the time to check under tables. He heard women scream and berate the men for disturbing their sales, but the men didn't seem to care, shoving a teenaged girl down onto the ground.
That instantly infuriates him, and just when he was about to barge out from under the blanket to destroy the man that had knocked this innocent girl to the ground, she looked him straight in the eye. Their eyes met, and she put a finger up to her lips, urging him to stay quiet.
It was like a war in his heart. He never stood by and let an innocent get hurt, he would never, ever do that. But in this case, if he did emerge, they would know that this girl and he assumed, her mother, were harboring him, and that would cause much longer-term damage than anything she had just experienced.
After another few minutes, the woman flipped the blanket up and ushered him to come out.
"Thanks." He said appreciatively.
Onlookers smiled in his direction, curious, but cautious.
"No, we thank you." The woman said emphatically, placing her strong hand on his shoulder.
"Excuse me?" He said, thoroughly confused.
"We saw…what you did for our neighbor, Mrs. Ariese last night." The teenaged girl said. "You saved her from those madmen."
"You saw?" Eliot asked.
The older woman coughed. "Yes, we did not come help. It is a very dangerous place for a woman. I did not want my children to be hurt. Of course you understand." She declared.
Eliot nodded, though he still didn't like that no one came out to help the woman from the night before.
"But you see" the older woman continued, "that is why we helped you. You are the first person in years that has gone out of their way to help us. Since the gangs…"
Everyone quieted and looked around cautiously. These gangs must be a lot worse that Eliot thought.
"Listen…I need some help finding a friend." He said.
"I'm here." Parker chimed in.
"And where the hell have you been?" He asked turning around to see a chipper Parker eating an apple as if nothing had happened.
"I've been solving our mystery of the art forger and I also figured out who you just managed to piss off."
Eliot and Parker thanked the surrounding people that had helped him hide, and continued down the market and out of sight.
"So I suppose you are going to tell me where Will is at some point?"
"Yes, at some point."
"And I suppose you are going to tell me who I pissed off?"
"Yes."
Parker smirked, taking the last bite of her apple.
"Have you ever heard of 'La Puma'?"
