Nate's door swung open and banged against the wall with a thunderous thud. Eliot's stomped through it, his features stormy, dragging Keely behind him.

Once inside, he spun around to face her, his eyes smoldering. Keely could have sworn she saw steam coming out of his nostrils like a charging bull.

She arched a brow at him incredulously. She knew he wouldn't be happy with her little demonstration downstairs, but she couldn't believe she had managed to make him this angry. There was simply no earthly reason for it.

Eliot pointed to the door and roared, "What was that?!"

Keely crossed her arms with an insultingly smug expression, "Proving a point."

Eliot started sputtering, unable to express his frustrations with words. He settled for clenching his fists and roaring with aggravation.

Keely didn't even flinch. If he was going to get this hot and bothered over nothing, then that was his problem.

Eliot started pacing with conviction back and forth across the room. He stopped and spoke with his deepest gravelly bear voice, obviously trying to restrain his temper enough to speak, "And what point would you be trying to prove with that!"

Keely tilted her chin up, "That you should take me more seriously. That when I say I can do something that means I actually can do it. "

Eliot froze just staring at her. His eyes roamed over her again and then shot back up to meet her face and froze there. He was staring at her with such intensity, Keely felt her pulse quicken. She could practically feel it throbbing in her veins. She would love to know what he was thinking at that moment, but as usual, her abilities never worked when she wanted them to.

"How in the hell did you learn to dance like that?"

Keely sighed, "I told you I've taken dance for years."

"I doubt they taught you to dance like that."

Keely's eyes narrowed. She did not appreciate the tone in which he kept referring to her dancing as "that" as if it was criminal or shameful.

"No, but I did take jazz, which is pretty similar. I also grew up in LA. I've been going to dance clubs since junior high."

Eliot's mouth was hanging open.
Keely scoffed, "I told you before what I could do. I don't know why you're acting so shocked and offended."

Nate's voice emerged from the doorway, "You're right," Keely and Eliot turned to find the whole crew standing just inside the apartment. Nate smiled, "We underestimated you Keely. A mistake, I assure you, will not happen again."

Keely grinned, bowing her head slightly, "Thank you." It was really, all she wanted to begin with.

She turned to find Eliot fixed on her with that strange expression again. Her brows crinkled together questioningly and when Eliot noticed it, he abruptly turned away. "God damn it Keely, change your clothes! I can't even… what did you… go change!"

Keely glanced down at herself, forgetting the clothes she had turned from country farmer to sexy punk-rock star with a pair of kitchen shears and some advice from Pinterest. She scowled at Eliot. He was being rude. It wasn't her usual style, but she thought she looked pretty good. The other guys at the bar had certainly acted like she was appealing enough.

Suddenly, a pretty girl with a long lean body and scarlet red hair peered over the edge of the doorframe, knocking on the wall to alert them to her presence. "Hey is everyone okay?"

It was Cora McRory, the daughter of John McRory, who obviously started the beloved bar below them. Upon his unfortunate death, she was now the current owner. She was also, technically, Keely's boss.

Keely beamed at her, stepping lightly towards her. They had become fast friends since Keely started working at McRory's. "Hey Cora!"

Cora returned the smile, "I didn't see you outside and just wanted to make sure you all got out ok." She sighed, "You know there wasn't any fire right? I have no idea why that alarm went off. I just got done dealing with the fire department. What a mess!"

Everyone nodded, except Hardison, who was suddenly preoccupied with studying the room and avoiding eye contact with Cora.

She blew out air, ruffling her bangs, "It's going to be such a hassle to clean. I don't know when we'll be able to open again!"

Nate cleared his throat meaningfully and widened his eyes at Hardison.

Hardison coughed, "Uh, don't worry about that Cora. I'll get a team in there to take care of it."

Cora cocked a brow at him suspiciously, "Why? It's not your fault."

Everyone shuffled nervously.

Hardison mumbled under his breath and then coughed to disguise it. "Well, you see…" His eyes widened as inspiration struck him. "It's cause I'm the landlord of the building, and the fire alarm going off, without there being an actual fire, is obviously a building problem so I'll assume responsibility." Everyone held their breath, waiting for Cora's response.

When her curious stare melted into a smile, everyone let out a breath of relief. She leapt into Hardison's arms and gave him a big squeeze. "You have to be the best landlord in the world."

Hardison chuckled, but he was still so jumpy it sounded more like a mouse squeaking. "Nah, it's nothing. Just being a responsible property owner, and all that…"

Cora walked over to Keely and nudged her shoulder, "It's really too bad about that alarm. It was going so well! The bar never usually gets that much business, especially on a weeknight."

Keely grinned, "I think we definitely should make Dancing Tabletop Thursdays a new tradition."

Cora chuckled, "If you agree to keep dancing, it will be!"

"Of course! It'll be fun."

"No you're not!"

After his vehement declaration, Eliot suddenly found every female in the room swivel to pierce with white-hot vehemence and indignation. Even Cora's eyes narrowed hotly at him.

Eliot immediately regretted his choice of words. It wasn't exactly what he meant. He just didn't think he could survive another bout of Keely looking and acting how she did in the bar. But judging from their reactions, his outburst had come across rather poorly.

Keely stomped over to Eliot and grabbed hold of his arm. "Will you excuse us?" She forcefully yanked Eliot into an empty room and slammed the door behind them.

Hardison let out a low whistle. "Ohhhhh. Oh, he's in trouble now."

Once they were inside and the door was neatly shut behind them, Keely turned to face Eliot, placing her hands on her hips, "What is your problem?" Eliot was having difficulty looking directly at her. And found himself making eye contact with an object above her head.

"It's my job to keep you safe and out of trouble."

"Oh really, huh? And how is this possible dangerous?"

"It… it just… You just shouldn't do it!" He paused momentarily… " The exposure…" he added as an afterthought.

Keely's eyes flared as she marched towards him, pointing a finger in his face, "You Eliot Spencer don't get to tell me what to do."

Eliot hesitated, slightly sputtering and then crossed his arms, "You said you would listen to me."

"That's right. I did… if it involves men in labcoats coming to kidnap me or the world suddenly discovering I'm psychic. Neither of which involve dancing at a bar!"

Eliot started to speak, but the words froze in his throat.

What could he say? The truth was his apprehension towards Keely's "demonstration" had more to do with him, than Keely's safety.

He wasn't usually like this. Usually, he applauded and greatly appreciated aggressive female seductiveness. Hell, he was it's number one supporter! But Keely was different. He had put her in a neat tidy little category. Cute as a baby animal, unceasingly compassionate, adorably clueless, and… too pure for him to even think of touching.

He had lived with her for months, thought he knew everything about her. She was such an open book, what other secrets could he possibly learn? But she had proved him wrong. Even now her erotic moves and alluring confidence in her gaze were burned in his brain and he was having trouble shaking them loose. Her outfit at the moment wasn't helping rid the images either. For some reason the high heeled boots and ripped clothing was infinitely worse than seeing her in a bathing suit.

"Will you please just change!"

Keely threw up her hands, "I don't have any other clothes. This is what I came in, remember."

Eliot took her hand and tugged her out the door, but trying not to look at her. "Then we're going home."

Once they were in the car, Eliot tried to cover her with his jacket, despite Keely continuously throwing it off. It was an insanely hot and humid Boston night. She wasn't going to die of heat stroke just because Eliot had a problem with her outfit. They were both so irritated with each other, they stewed in strained silence for the entire car ride.

The moment they stepped inside Eliot's place, Keely headed to the sink. She grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim with water. She pushed back her long hair, bits of it still damp and clinging to her neck, and threw back her head, taking long deep sips from the glass. She closed her eyes, sighing with relief.

Eliot's car keys fell from his limp hand. Jesus she was trying to kill him. It was like some dark steamy fantasy come to life. He felt his eyes burning in his sockets, his breathing growing rapid and his fingers itching to… well, do something he shouldn't.

Her golden eyes met his from across the room and Eliot swore he saw her prop her hip on the kitchen counter, smile saucily and curl a finger with that same inviting expression she had at the bar.

In reality, Keely was staring at Eliot like he was a madman. What on earth was wrong with him? Was he ill?

Genuinely concerned, she took a step towards him, reaching out to feel his forehead for a fever. Eliot sprung backwards. Keely blinked as he suddenly turned heel, grabbed his car keys off the floor, and headed towards the door. "Lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone."

Completely befuddled, Keely falteringly followed him, "Huh? I mean ok, but where are you going?"

Eliot didn't even pause in his escape, bolting out of his apartment. "Out. I need to go out!"

Keely flinched as the door slammed behind him.

She was bewildered. Eliot only left her alone very rarely, and that was only to go on jobs. He had never left her to go "out"…. ever. She pursed her lips and tapped her foot in agitation. Had she really managed to make he so mad, he needed to get away from her? She ruffled her hair and gripped her scalp in frustration. What the heck was going on?!

Three hours later, Keely crouched in her bed, resting her chin on her knees and staring at her toes, feeling no longer confused and concerned about Eliot's departure. No, she had now shifted right down into utter misery. She couldn't believe she had once begged him to do this. To go out and have fun, to have normal social life as if she weren't there, and hit on girls… Groaning, Keely flipped over, placing her pillow over her head. What an idiot she had been. Of course, that had also been before she fallen in love with him.

Now, her horrid imagination had developed numerous scenarios of what could possibly be keeping Eliot "out" this late. Each one was worse than the next.

Eliot sitting at bar counters with girls draped over him and giggling in his ear.

Eliot using that cowboy charm and devastating smile to turn them into puddles of hormones.

Eliot escorting one, or more than one, of those girls into a taxi… and going home with her…

She yanked off her pillow and started punching it over and over. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

This was awful. It felt like getting punched in the stomach until all of the breath knocked out of her. Like her insides had morphed into a dark heavy lead. Keely realized then that her growls of frustration were turning into sobs. Oh crud. Now look what Eliot was making her do. She was crying! She hated crying! Yet, no matter what she told herself, she couldn't manage to make the tears stop. Giving up, Keely curled up in her covers and cried herself to sleep.

Keely moaned when she heard the cranky wailing of her alarm clock. Why in God's name had she set the thing in the first place? Oh right, she wanted to run some errands before her shift at the bar. She was planning to get them done early, before Eliot could do it himself or stop her. But that was before he had been such a great big jerk to her and left her alone all night worrying and wretched. She certainly didn't feel like doing Eliot Spencer any favors this morning. In fact, she was planning to stay away from him as much as possible today. He probably wasn't even back yet from whatever nighttime tryst he had. The dunderhead!

So she rolled over and slammed the alarm to silence with a sense of self-satisfaction. She rolled back, snuggling deeper into the warmth surrounding her and planning to sleep a good while longer. She breathed a deep sigh of contentment, yet something made her nose tickle. A deep musky scent. Her brow furrowed. She gradually realized that the rolled pillow underneath her head wasn't as sinking soft as it usually was. Then the cocoon of warmth she was snuggled in, suddenly tightened around her. Keely's eyes immediately flew open and she found herself face to face… with a face.

Screaming, Keely flung herself backwards and leapt off the bed. Well she tried to leap off the bed, but got tangled in the sheets and landed on the floor with a hard and painful thump.

She righted herself and reached for the lamp to bash the intruder over the head. She stopped when she realized she recognized this particular face, only vaguely tempted to continue her assault anyway. It was the same person who had caused her so much anguish last night.

Eliot was still buried underneath her covers, slowing rousing himself by sitting up and rubbing his eyes, groaning in pain. He was still in his clothes from last night, except his shirt was gone and he was only wearing a ribbed tank. Keely simply gawked at him in gape-mouthed astonishment, unable to process what was happening or form any kind of reaction.

Eliot finally lifted his hands from his eyes and finally noticed her, jolting with surprise. "Jesus Keely! What the hell are you doing in my room?!"

"Your room?" Keely whispered. Her brow darkened and she roared, "Your room! You're in my room!"

Still confused and plenty bleary-eyed Eliot glanced around the room. He groaned and fell backwards. "I must have climbed into the wrong room last night when I came home."

"Huh?!" Keely scoffed sarcastically, "you think?!"

Just then Keely happened to glance down at herself and yelped. She just realized that she only wearing an oversized shirt and no pants. Frantically she reached for covers and tried to wrap them around the bottom half of her body. The shirt was pretty long, but she still felt exposed in front of Eliot. Her effort to cover herself with the covers only tangled her feet and made her tumble to the floor yet again. "Oomph!"

Eliot smiled at her and sighed with relief, "Thank God."

Keely's frown deepened as she managed to stand up, "Thank God what?"

"Thank God you're you again and not… not whatever you were last night."

Keely's mouth dropped again and quickly snapped shut. She was livid. He had the nerve to make her so distressed all night long, and then he strolls into her room in wee hours of the morning, climbs into her bed and then insults her. She picked up a pillow at her feet and threw it at him. "Get out!"

Still sleepy, Eliot held up an arm to clumsily defend himself, "Fine, fine. Take it easy." Eliot slowly stood and then wobbling for a moment, sat on the edge of the bed again.

Keely's eyes widened and she leaned forward to sniff him. "Are you… are you hung-over?!"

He whimpered and fell back against the pillows again, "Technically I believe I'm still drunk."

"Really?"

Keely was curious enough to lower her second pillow missile. She had never seen Eliot drunk. She honestly didn't think he could be. He was always in such control of himself, it seemed impossible to imagine. Very slowly and gingerly, Eliot managed to right himself and stay on his feet.

Keely followed Eliot out of her room, her covers dragging behind her. She closely watched as he stumbled into the kitchen, reaching blindly for the frig.

Deciding she needed further evidence, she picked up one of Eliot's hand strength balls and chucked it at him when he turned to face her. It hit him squarely in the forehead. Eliot clutched his head, "Ow! What was that for?!"

Keely gasped, "You are drunk!" Under normal circumstances Eliot would have caught that ball without a second's hesitation or surprise. Besides being fascinated, it also greatly improved Keely's mood. Eliot had an incredible tolerance and must have consumed a tremendous amount of alcohol to get this drunk. If he was that busy drinking, it eliminated other "girl-orientated" things he could have been doing instead.

Eliot rubbed at the new red circle in the middle of his forehead, with a fierce scowl. He seemed to already be regaining his senses, in true Eliot fashion. "You know, when you were drunk, I remember being a lot nicer. Yeah, things like carrying you to your bed, waking you up gently, and bringing you water." He pointed to his forehead, "I certainly didn't scream and throw things at you… twice!" Wincing slightly, he finally yanked open the refrigerator, pulling out a gallon of orange juice and proceeded downing the rest of the container.

Keely shuffled over to him, still wrapped in her bed sheets like a toga, and plopped herself on the stool at the kitchen counter. "Well that was completely different. I had to drink. I didn't want to. It was part of a job and to protect someone from getting shot. I hardly, think your escapades last night can make the same claim."

Dropping his head on the kitchen counter, Eliot let out a deep deep sigh. He peered over his forearms, watching her for a moment. Keely always looked so delightfully disheveled in the morning with her wild hair and sleepy doe eyes. The effect was heightened by the fact she was buried in a cocoon of blankets. The sight of her brought back the familiar sensation of warmth and brotherly protectiveness, instantly making him feel better. A slow cat grin spread across his lips and reached across the counter to tousle her already ruffled hair. "I'm sorry I left you alone for so long. Everything ok?"

The gods of falsehood must have descended down from heaven and graced Keely in that exact moment because even with her inability to lie, she somehow managed to say, "Of course" in a way that was believable enough for Eliot's dimples to deepen and ruffle her hair again. She sent up a prayer of gratitude.

Cracking eggs into a cup, Eliot leaned across the counter, rubbing his aching temples. "Look Keels, I don't want to fight with you. The whole thing was just silly and you're…" He gestured to her restored wholesome appearance. Not a wanton temptress anymore. He rubbed his aching forehead again and decided to choose his words wisely. "…fine now. So let's just forget the whole thing." Keely's eyes still narrowed at him, still somewhat conflicted, until Eliot redeemed himself. "What do you say we stay in and have a movie day?"

Keely beamed and clapped her hands, squealing with glee. It was a rare treat. She loved movies, but Eliot could never sit through them. She had a feeling, his under the weather predicament was responsible for his agreement to stay inside for a day and be lazy, but she was ready to take advantage.

"Sounds great! I'll help make breakfast and then we can pick what we want to watch!"

She started to get up, but the sheets got stuck on the stool. Keely pursed her lips, "I should probably get dressed first." As she shuffled to her room, Eliot grinned devilishly behind her back.

Last night, Eliot had escaped to the bars, knowing he had to get away from Keely or he was going to do something he would seriously regret. About half-way through the bottle of scotch, trying to drown out the illicit images of Keely, Eliot had a drunken epiphany.

Keely was so stubborn, the more he fought her, the more she would insist on doing it. If he wanted to get this whole club and dancing thing out of her head, he was better off not arguing about it, but using all of his practiced strategies to distract her. He would keep her so preoccupied, she would even think about "Dancing Tabletop Thursdays." No, if he played his cards right, he would never have to worry about being placed in such a morally conflicting situation ever again! Ah, ha!

"You're having her do what?!" Eliot stood up slamming his palms on the table. They were in the back room of McRory's, thankfully one area that didn't have water damage. Nate gave very little reaction to Eliot's passionate eruption, other than taking another sip of his coffee. "Keely is going to get into Diaz's VIP room for us. She more than proved her capability at the bar and she's the trustworthy. She's been with us so long, she's practically already part of our team. So she's our best bet." Nate gestured towards Keely. "That is, of course, if you agree?"

Keely grinned, "Sure. I'm happy to help."

Eliot exploded, pointing a finger at Nate, "No, no Nate! This is not happening. She's not doing jobs now. And I'm especially not letting her anywhere near that bastard. I'm putting my foot down Nate!"

Nate didn't break eye contact with Eliot, "You don't get to make that call Eliot. I do."

"Fine, if that's the way you want to play it. If Keely's in, I'm out. I refuse to go along with this. It's just wrong. We can't promise to protect her and then throw her to the wolves whenever it's convenient for us."

Everyone started yelling then. Hardison, Parker and Sophie joining in the banter so that you couldn't even hear their words, just escalating voices. Everyone, except Keely.

Abruptly, Keely stood up with such force, her chair slammed against the wall behind her loudly.

It was instantly silent.

Five pairs of eyes shot to her in astonishment. She didn't look up from the table and said in a low voice, "Will you please give Eliot and I a moment alone?"

Nate nodded and stood up to leave, the rest of the team following his lead. Sophie closed the door behind her, leaving Eliot and Keely alone in the room together.

Eliot sighed, plopping back down into his chair. "Keely it's no use trying to…" He finally looked up to meet her gaze and halted. Her expression was completely foreign from the usual Keely. He had seen her furious and serious before, but this was vastly different.

It was a shrouded darkness… a deep sadness.

Something she hid deep down and rarely let surface.

The air was thick with the silence between them, only looking at each other from across the scratched poker table. Every moment that passed made Eliot dread further why Keely had asked to speak to him alone.

When Keely finally spoke, her voice matched her expression. Low and hoarse as if holding back tears, "You know what I did, that night when my dream about my cousin's death came true? When I realized the depth of what I could really do…

I went outside to my backyard and I sat there all night.

I searched for every star and wished and prayed with all of my might... to take it away.

Because it scared the hell out of me. I couldn't stand my mother's terrified face, feeling different than everyone else. I thought I was a freak."

She paused taking a deep breath, "If I really knew what it would do to me, I would have wished even harder. That this so-called "gift" would ruin my life. Everything I went through in that lab…" She gulped over the lump in her throat,

"Fears I will never forget.

Nightmares I'll never escape."

She took a deep steadying breath.

"Even that is not the worst of it. The worst is the life I lost. Everything and everyone I cared for… I will never see them again. I'll never get to go home."

A slow tear streaked down her cheek, "Do you know my family and friends think I'm dead? A month after my escape I had a vision of the memorial service they had for me… My mother could barely stand. My brothers practically carried her into the church.

Those monsters… they killed a part of me. That part of my life is truly dead because I can never go back. As much as I want to I can never let them know I'm ok because it will endanger them."

Eliot gripped his chair with such force the wood nearly splintered beneath his powerful fingers. Emotions washed over him like a flood.

He never knew.

That was a lie. Of course, deep down he had to have known. But she was always so cheerful, so untainted, he decided not to dwell on it. Imagining everything she had to suffer, how strong she had to have been to overcome it, he felt more than anger, more than sympathy… it was a physical pain. He hated it and hated even more he could nothing to spare her from it.

Keely's hands balled into fists, sorrow in her eyes shifting into fierce resolution again, "I know you all sometimes wonder how I'm able to do it. How I'm able to function and even be happy, despite everything...

The reason I can do it is because of Josie...

and Max and Nana

and Adam

and the people on that plane

and most of all, the team."

She gestured to the door where they had recently exited.

"The people I was able to save make me think that maybe, just maybe, there's worth in being psychic. That everything I've lost might be for a greater good. And that gives me strength. Gives me hope."

She slowly lowered herself into her chair, a small curve on her lips.

"Remember when we first met and you asked me if I knew you and I denied it." She shook her head, "That wasn't true. Before I met you and the rest of the team,

I saw you. I saw the amazing things you could do and did for others. You inspired me.

I think I was meant to find you because, like you, helping people gives my life meaning. Working with you would allow me to use my abilities to help more people than I ever could on my own. There has to be more to my life than just running, hiding and surviving. You have to let me help you. I need to help you." She reached across the table and took hold of his hands, her wide eyes moist and pleading, "Please Eliot, it's the only way I'll stay sane."

Eliot squeezed her hands, before releasing them, rubbing his hands over his face and digging his fingers through his hair, clearly torn and struggling.

Finally, he met her gaze again and spoke under his breath, barely a rumbling whisper, "God damn it, Keely."