Thirteen: Near

Soundtrack: Near to You by A Fine Frenzy

He was thankful there was nothing but silence on the comms while they walked back to their room. But he wasn't fond of the unusual silence surrounding Jocelyn. She held his hand, wrapped the other hand around his bicep, and clung to his side the entire time. But she wouldn't look at him. She didn't speak to him.

She didn't let go of him until he closed the door to their room. Then she just took a step away from him and stood there with her back to him.

"That could have gone better," he said.

"Ya think?" Eliot snapped.

"Unzip me," she said her voice devoid of any emotion.

He was a little surprised. "Uhm… okay…?"

He unzipped the dress and she literally let it fall off her body and onto the floor.

"Guys, what's going on?" Ford asked quietly.

She bent over in front of him and took off her shoes and his pants were lacking in room because of it. She reached up to her ear as she started to turn around.

"Not sure…" he replied.

It was an effort to keep his eyes on her face. The muscles in her face were slack, her eyes were glassy, and her bottom lip was quivering.

"Jocelyn? Are you okay?" Eliot asked.

She held out the earpiece to him and he took it. She walked into the bathroom but didn't bother to close the door.

"Quinn! What's going on?" Eliot barked.

"Uhm… just a…"

He watched as she pulled the elaborate comb from her hair and then undid her bra and pulled off her panties. Then she turned to the shower and started running the water.

"Quinn!"

It was difficult for him to walk away from any naked woman but especially her. He stepped farther into the room. "Uhm… Jocelyn is taking a shower."

"Is she okay?" Sophie asked.

He set the earpiece on the table and walked to the mini-fridge. "Maybe not."

"What did you do?" Eliot growled.

"Of course you would blame me," Quinn said, grabbing every bottle of amber liquid he could find and closing the door. "I'm thinking that maybe the way Janvier forced her to do all that tonight has sorta…"

"Pissed her off?" Parker offered.

He thought back to the look on her face. "Uh, no, more like… has her feeling helpless and maybe victimized."

Quinn opened a bottle and poured the contents into a glass.

"I wish I could have punched the guy," he said. "He acts like women are possessions – things to be controlled. And Jocelyn…" He paused a moment to think over all he knew about her. He took a drink.

"What about Jocelyn?" Eliot asked his voice unusually calm.

He chose his words carefully. "She's a little... vulnerable to that kind of thing. And…"

"And?" Eliot prompted.

"Well, I think this whole save Eliot crusade has worn her down. I'm guessing under normal circumstances she could have handled Janvier no problem. But she's tired. Tired in every way possible."

He took another drink and then opened another bottle. He'd almost finished his drink by the time Ford broke the silence. He was finally starting to feel the alcohol soften his brain.

"Do you think she's going to be okay?"

Quinn opened another bottle and poured it in the glass.

"Quinn?"

"You're asking me?" he said.

"Yes, I'm asking you," Ford said, his voice edged with irritation. "You're the one that witnessed the evening first hand."

He gave the whole situation some quick consideration. "Yeah, she's gonna be okay because this is all about Eliot."

He waited for a remark from Eliot, but there was only silence. Followed by a new silence as the water stopped.

He lowered his voice and reported, "She's getting out of the shower now."

Within moments she emerged from the bathroom wearing a robe and drying her hair with the towel. She looked tired, but not like she was in shock.

He smiled at her. "I didn't know women could take showers that fast."

She tilted her head at him and gave him half a smirk. She walked to him, took the glass from his hand and finished it without a grimace. She put the glass back in his hand and looked at him expectantly. "Earpiece?"

He pointed at the table. She walked to the table and grabbed the earpiece. She pointed at the glass. "Gonna need another."

She put the earpiece in and said, "What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Ford said. "Quinn was just giving us a little color commentary."

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry I missed that."

He shrugged and opened another bottle and poured it in the glass.

"Tell me about the game," Ford said.

"No game," Eliot said.

"I vote for that," Quinn said. "I hear not everybody makes it out alive."

"I've heard those rumors too," Jocelyn said. "The year I played nobody died, but there were some serious injuries."

"This has gotten way out of hand," Eliot said. "I'm not putting you at risk any more. None of you."

There were several moments of quiet. Jocelyn broke it. "You're asking us to just let you get killed then?"

"I can take care of this on my own," Eliot said.

Quinn watched her face. She didn't seem surprised or upset. Just annoyed. "Just going to take on Janvier and all his muscle by yourself?"

"No!" Ford said.

"Eliot, please," Sophie begged.

"Uh-uh," Hardison said. "Not letting you do that."

"Hey! Do any of you remember how I took care of Moreaux's crew?"

There were a few moments of quiet and Jocelyn asked. "What about you, Parker? What do you think?"

"I think Eliot needs our help whether he wants to admit it or not."

Jocelyn gave him a pointed look. "Quinn?"

"Hey, I'm just the trophy husband."

She ran her eyes over him obviously. "Yeah, you are," she said with a smirk. He was a little shocked. Hardison coughed and Jocelyn laughed. "But what I'm asking is are you in or out?"

He shook his head. "I think I want to renegotiate my contract."

She laughed. "Well, there is a cash prize if we win the game."

"So, the game," Ford said.

She was still running her eyes over him. "It's an invitation only paintball tournament," she said moving toward him.

"A bunch of mercenaries and hitters playing paintball, that's rich," Sophie said.

"And how do you get seriously hurt playing paintball?" Parker asked. "A sprained ankle or something?"

He watched her as she approached him. "We are competitive by nature," he said. She nodded in agreement. "With violent tendencies and the skills to hurt people. Getting hit with a paintball won't stop that."

"Plus Janvier loves bringing in hitters that have conflicts with each other to promote more violence."

"O'Mara?" Ford asked.

"You can bet he'll be in the mix tomorrow night," she said, stopping in front of him.

"Where does this thing happen?" Ford asked.

"Not sure. They drive us to the site in security shuttles with screens covering the windows. And from what Mickey told me last time Janvier moves it every year. When I played it was in a big warehouse about a 35-minute drive from the Bellagio."

She took the glass from his hand. "Which reminds me," she pointed up at him with one finger. "Don't drink or eat anything Janvier offers before the game. He has been known to drug people just for fun."

"What a nice guy," he said.

She put the glass to her lips and swallowed the liquor in two swallows. She handed it back to him with a smile.

"I could just fix you your own, you know."

"Move fun this way," she said.

Ford cleared his throat. "What about these game masters?"

"That's new," she said.

"Game masters my ass," he said setting down the glass and opening another bottle. "They're Janvier's storm troopers. His fail safe. They'll make sure he's protected and won't give a shit about anybody else."

"Probably," she said running her eyes over him again. He started to feel heat move over his body.

"We find the firm yet, Hardison?" Ford asked.

He poured the liquor in the glass. As soon as he had set the bottle down her hands were on him.

"Trident Global Security," Hardison said, "and it looks like…"

She slipped his jacket off and carried it to the closet.

"Yes!" Hardison exclaimed. "We've got floor plans and even some pictures."

"Ewww! What's that?" Parker said. "Oh… looks like fun," she said not very convincingly.

Jocelyn was headed back to him shaking her head and smiling. He assumed she found Parker's comments amusing.

"Find us a way in, Hardison. We need to be there tomorrow night," Ford said.

"No!" Eliot snapped.

Quinn held out the drink to her, but she shook her head. She looked into his eyes for several long moments.

"Eliot, this is what we do," Sophie said.

Jocelyn let her eyes trail down over his chest.

"Have you lost total faith in us as a team?" Ford asked.

Quinn watched as she reached out and pressed both her hands on his chest. He focused on his breathing as an uncomfortable silence grew on the comms. He closed his eyes as she moved her hands over his chest and then up over his shoulders.

He had to shift his weight to avoid an uncomfortable bind in his pants.

"I'll find us a way in," Hardison said.

She pressed her hips against his and he was pretty much sprung.

"A way in," he murmured, thinking about her.

"Uh, what?" Hardison asked.

Quinn snapped his eyes open. "Just agreeing with you."

She was looking into his eyes, a wicked smile on her lips. He shook his head at her and took a drink.

"Anything else we can do tonight?" Ford asked.

Jocelyn started unbuttoning his shirt. He took another drink.

"Jocelyn?" Ford prompted.

"Oh," she said, her voice husky, "You're talking to me?"

"Yes."

Quinn gritted his teeth to keep from moaning when her hands made contact with his skin.

"No, I can't think of anything that could help at this point," she responded.

"Quinn?" Ford asked. "Everything okay?"

He fought off a laugh. "Couldn't be better." He looked at her. "Seriously. Couldn't. Be. Better."

She moved her hands down to his waist and he squirmed, fighting to keep from laughing. She pulled his shirt free.

"Okay…" Ford seemed to be stalling. "Well… check in first thing in the morning. We might need a face-to-face to go over the plan."

"Will do," she responded.

"Get some rest," Ford said.

Quinn chuckled. He couldn't help it. "Good idea."

Another awkward silence. Jocelyn ran her hands over his bare chest again and then removed both cufflinks.

"Good night, all," Jocelyn said. After the various responses, she pulled the earpiece out, turned it off, and set it on the table.

"Quinn," Ford's voice surprised him. "Don't do anything to make this worse."

"Don't kid yourself," he responded. "Things can't get any worse."

She looked at him, her head tilted and an eyebrow raised quizzically.

He finished the drink, pulled the earpiece, turned it off, and set it next to hers. She pulled his shirt off, took both hands and led him to the bed.

"Want to watch Sports Center?" he asked.

She shook her head and unbuckled his belt.

"Jimmy Kimmel?"

"Too late for Jimmy," she said and unfastened and unzipped his pants.

She carefully guided them down his legs, and he moaned at the sight of her so close to his raging erection.

"You're killing me," he muttered.

She laughed. "Bad choice of words."

She stayed on her knees; put both hands on his hips and pushed until his butt fell onto the bed. She made quick work of his shoes and socks and soon he was free of all clothing except his boxers.

She stood up in front of him and moved so that she was standing between his legs. He wanted to touch her, wanted to put his hands on her thighs and unclothe her like she had him, but decided against it. It was important to him that she run this show. He looked up at her.

"Do you want me, Beau?"

"Is that a trick question?"

She smiled and he took a moment to try and think through his lust. What did she need at this moment?

"Yes, Jocelyn, I want you. No other woman will satisfy me."

She smiled broadly, put her hand on his face and kissed him. He still didn't touch her. When she had him breathless she pulled away and looked in his eyes.

"I need you to make love to me, Beau. Make love to me like you're in love with me. Can you do that?"

He took a moment to pretend like he was thinking about it. "Yes," he held his arms up to her. "Let me make love to you, Jocelyn."

She smiled again and fell into his arms.

He's disappearing
Fading steadily
And I'm so close to being yours
Won't you stay with me?

~ Near to You by A Fine Frenzy ~