PART TWO: Mosaic Broken Hearts

by angellwings

Chapter Twelve: Tender Care

Her go bag was packed with essentials. She'd said something about stopping by her storage unit on the way to the airport. He assumed she had more suitable things for this job in storage.

"Okay, I guess I'm packed," she said as she glanced through her purse one more time to make sure she had everything she needed. She pulled a key out of her pocket and held it out to him.

He shook his head and then reached out to close her hand around the key. "Keep it. You'll need it when you get back into town."

She beamed at him. "Really?"

He nodded. "It's yours."

She launched herself at him and gave him a tight hug. "Thank you." She placed a lingering kiss on his lips and pulled away. She pressed her forehead to his and smiled warmly at him. "I'll be back in a few weeks."

"Be careful," he told her as he met her eyes and gave her a stern glance. "I don't know much about this job but from the sound of that phone call this guy sounds serious."

She nodded. "I'll do my best. Try not to get yourself killed while I'm gone with that team of yours, okay?"

He smirked at her and brushed her hair out of her face before he kissed her again. "Okay."

When he brushed the hair out of her face he must have brought her attention to the fact that it was still frizzy and curly. She immediately pulled out a hair tie and secured into a ponytail. "I really wish I had time to do my hair."

Eliot rolled his eyes at her and grinned. "It looks good to me."

She chuckled and smiled at him. "Yes, I'm well aware of how you like my hair, Spencer."

There was a knock at the door and Eliot opened it immediately. He gave Tara an expectant look and nodded at her in greeting.

"Spencer," Tara said quickly before she focused on Claire. "Ready?"

"Yes," she answered. "All packed."

She placed a kiss on Eliot's lips before stepping out into the hallway with Tara.

"Call me when they job's over, alright?" Eliot asked her. Claire nodded and then Eliot turned to Tara. "Call us if you guys need any back up."

Tara nodded. "They will."

Eliot quirked a brow at that. "They? You're not going?"

"Oh no, I can't go. The mark knows me. Shelley's got Claire's back though,"

"Shelley?" Eliot asked Claire with a slight glare. "I didn't know he was in on this."

"Yeah, he didn't want you to kill him if anything happened to go wrong," Claire told him with a sheepish grin.

"I always knew he was a smart guy," Eliot said with a smirk. "Tell him I said hi would you?"

"I'll let Tara handle that since she's the one who told you he was a part of this," Claire said with a chuckle.

"Good, that'll be fun for me," Tara told her with a crooked smile. "I love messing with that guy's head."

"Me too," Eliot told her with a nod.

Claire rolled her eyes at the two of them. "You're both jerks."

"I mean we are criminals," Tara told her. "I think we're supposed to be jerks. I'll be waiting in the car downstairs." She glanced at her watch and tapped it. "We still have to go by the storage unit and get to the airport."

Claire nodded. "Alright, I'm coming. Right behind you."

"Shelley playing your muscle?" Eliot asked her knowingly.

"He's my alias's personal security," she told him with a nod. "He's been keeping an eye on the mark for the last week or so too."

"I was serious earlier," Eliot told her. "If you need back up, call."

She nodded. "Deal," she said before she leaned in and sealed it with a kiss. "No offense, though, let's hope I won't need to. See you later, Spencer," Claire told him with a wink before she turned on her heel and walked down the hall toward the stairs. She waved and grinned at him before she headed down the stairs and out of the building. He went back inside and watched out the window to make sure she got in the car and drove away safely.

He glanced around his now empty apartment and realized how much he was going to miss her. He'd gotten too used to having her around. His eyes landed on her guitar that she'd left on the stand in the corner and grinned. She'd be back for that for sure. He'd see her again in a few weeks.

For now, though, he was bored. No use staying around here. He grabbed his keys and decided to head over to Nate's. Someone was probably there researching something. They only had a few days before they took on another case. He'd find something keep himself busy over there.

The weeks passed, as did the cases, and still no word from Claire. Luckily his team kept him much too busy to dwell on it too much. Occasionally Tara would pass him a brief message to let him know things were going according to plan. That was usually enough to appease him. He knew if things went bad Claire or Shelley would reach out to him. Tara couldn't tell him much except that Claire and Shelley were laying the ground work for whatever con they were pulling. Their mark was highly paranoid so they couldn't risk communicating to Tara often.

Three weeks later they started a job that seemed like all their others. Only their mark wasn't a villain and he had a kid that Eliot took an inexplicable liking too. A pessimistic and bitter bundle of attitude who would never admit how alone she felt. The girl almost immediately got a piece of his heart. He found himself facing down Russian mob without even pausing to think it through. He'd barreled in and decided, to hell with it, this girl needed him and she was scared. He wouldn't wait until it was convenient to help her.

He'd saved the girl, of course, but he'd barely walked away from it. The Russians had a hitter working for them that was actually competent.

"You sure you don't want us to take you to a hospital?" Hardison asked him as they sat in a booth at McRory's.

"No, man, no hospitals," Eliot said with a scowl as he cradled his arm to his chest.

"We thought you'd say that," Parker said with a smirk. "So, Hardison made a call."

He furrowed his brow at them as Hardison nodded to the door. His gaze followed Hardison's nod and standing just inside the door was Claire. With frizzy red waves, jeans, and one of his sweatshirts. Almost the exact outfit he'd last seen her in. She slowly approached the table and for a moment he'd wondered if he was hallucinating.

She smiled warmly at him and shook her head as she stopped beside of the table. "I leave you alone for a few weeks and you let some guy pound you into the ground. If you wanted my attention, shug, you could have just called."

He stared at her for a long moment before he gave her a lop sided grin and stood from the table. "What are you doing here?"

"Hardison called Tara and Tara called me," she said with a smile as she gingerly caressed the cut on his face. "I thought you could use a nurse," she told him with a wink.

"I don't think you're registered," Hardison told her with a teasing grin.

Claire ignored him and turned to grin at Eliot as she motioned to the door. "Come on, Rocky Balboa, let's get you home. Huh?"

He said nothing but smiled affectionately at her and nodded. He slipped his good arm around her waist as they left the bar and headed back to his place.

"You shouldn't have come back for this," Eliot told her as they walked. "Your job's not over yet."

"I did have to come back," she told him as she leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek. "They told me you took a pretty bad beating trying to help that kid and I kept imagining the worst. I couldn't really focus on the con after that."

"You could blow your cover with this," he warned her.

"We covered our tracks pretty well," she told him. "And Shelley's still there keeping an eye on things. He'll let me know if things start to go pear shaped. It's fine, Eliot. I needed to come back here for this. For you."

He leaned a little more weight on her than he normally would have but he was sore and a little weak and tired. Very tired. Claire noticed but she quickly shifted to support him and wrapped an arm around his waist as well.

"You really took a beating for this kid," she said softly as they reached his street. "She must have gotten under your skin pretty deep."

"She needed somebody," he told her. "She needed a friend."

"You know, you see yourself as such a bad guy," Claire said thoughtfully. "But you care more about people and honor than any man I've ever met. You really don't see how fuckin' good you actually are. You've done bad things in the past, yes, but that's not who you are any more. There aren't many men that I've known in my life that would go through all of this for their family let alone a little girl who needed a friend."

"It's atonement," he told her as he dismissed her praise. "That's all it is."

She shook her head at him as they reached his building and headed for the elevator. Normally, he took the stairs but he felt like he had a decent excuse to slack off today.

"That's not all it is, Eliot," Claire told him as she smiled at him fondly. "You know that's not all it is. You're grumpy and irritable and have a short temper sometimes but you care. You care a lot more than you want anyone to know. Whether you want me to know or not, Spencer, I see it. So does your crew."

He leaned against one of the elevator walls to give Claire a break from being his support but she stayed at his side with her arm around him anyway. He didn't really know what to say to that so he didn't say anything. He let Claire's observation hang in the air between them. The silence was comfortable and thoughtful and they maintained it until the reached the inside of his apartment and he started to collapse on his couch. It was the closest thing to crash on.

Claire placed a gentle hand on his chest to stop him and then pointed to his bedroom. "Uh uh, no way, shug. It's just a few more steps to your bed. You should lay down."

He sighed and headed toward his room. He kicked off his shoes and then laid down on the bed in his jeans, hoodie, and jacket. Claire sighed and smiled at him sympathetically.

"I know you're tired, you really look it," she said honestly. "But you can't rest in all those layers."

He really didn't want to peel off the jacket. His arm hurt enough getting it on in the first place. Claire must have read this on his face because she sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his leg.

"Sit up. I'll help you," she told him. "You'll feel better once you have it off. Trust me."

He knew she was right so he dutifully sat up and let her carefully pull the sleeves of the leather jacket down his shoulders and arms and then set it on the armchair in the corner. She came back and lifted them hem of his hoodie and carefully peeled it off of him, making sure not to jostle his arm or chest too much. Finally, he was left in his jeans and a t-shirt. And, he noted, Claire was definitely right. He felt much better. The jacket and the hoodie had been tight on his sore arm and the layers had felt heavy on his bruised ribs. He settled in on the right side of the bed. Claire kicked off her shoes, took off her own sweatshirt, revealing a thin tank top underneath. She climbed into bed next to him and carefully snuggled up to his left, uninjured, side.

He turned his head to look at her and she smiled warmly at him. She reached up and softly ran a hand over the gash on the side of his face, the cut on the bridge of his nose, and the scrapes on the left side of his face. Her eyes gaze was worried and simultaneously relieved. She took his bandaged hand and brought it to her lips. She kissed the back of his fingers and then extended up to kiss the left side of his jaw that was scraped raw. He could feel love and concern and respect radiating off of her.

"God, I love you," she told him as she placed a hand on the side of his face and ran her thumb across his cheek. "I love you almost too much, you ridiculous self sacrificing honorable idiot."

Her words were hostile but her tone was soft and affectionate. He chuckled at her and turned his head to place a tender kiss on her lips.

"Thanks. Love you too," he said as he pulled away and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. It had been a very long time since he'd had someone genuinely try to take care of him. Or someone who made such an effort to appreciate what he did. It only reinforced how much he knew he loved her.

She settled against his chest and he rested his chin on the top of her head. The sound of her breathing, rhythmic and deep, as she laid next to him lulled him off to sleep. He'd initially been worried about her blowing her cover to come see him, but now he was very glad she'd risked it. He needed her then more than he realized.