A/N - Hope everyone had a good Christmas!

Sorry it's only one chapter this week... It's a doozy!

Wow... The last Fabulous Funds Friday of the year already!

Hope to see all my readers in the New Year!

Enjoy and please Review!

Thanks!

Ps. PLEASE go back to chapter 32 and reread... I made some changes.

"The back-up plan? The back-up plan is to get our team out and then blow it all to kingdom come," she spoke with a dead seriousness that Nate shivered.

The fake Jake Barrett didn't have a name or an identity and that was why he was known as a ghost. The man didn't even have fingerprints or dental records either. He usually took over identities of real people or made up whatever he needed; of course the real people never knew that their names were being stolen. He always took care of cleaning up the mess if the real person got in trouble with the law… He made it to the property where he spied Parker going into the main house.

"Subject Parker has met up with unknown person of interest. Must find alternative mode of transportation to keep up with subject," he recorded on his handheld recorder.

He waited close by the garage behind some bushes covered with tarps to keep the snow and ice off of them. Then he watched as Parker and the other woman came out of the warm dwelling. Then after both were in the vehicle, he came low out of the bushes and hid behind the back door near; the opposite end of the tailpipe. He pulled out a couple of those hand-held giant magnets out from his backpack and attached them to the back of his ride as the engine started. The fake Jake held on for the ride, backpack and all; the snow shoes forgotten in the woods behind the garage. He took a break at their first stop and rested on the ground on his haunches while he watched Parker enter the building.

"Subject has entered the Bridgeport Brewpub. Unknown driver still behind the wheel. Must wait to see any activity. Too much of a risk of being seen by driver and Parker."

He heard the door open and a body got in before the door closed. He hurried and reattached himself to the back of the vehicle as the engine started again. The ghost followed Parker all the way to the hangar. He detached the magnets, rolled away from the back of the white Land Rover, and behind some shipping crates; totally hidden and invisible. The fake Jake watched as Parker finally got out of the means of transportation and headed to the plane. After the plane taxied to the runway, he broke into a nearby hangar and stole a plane to follow after Parker. Then he sent a quick text to Vance that Parker was on her way to California. He turned off his phone before he got the plane up in the air…

Parker was glad that it had been Nate instead of Hardison. She couldn't believe that she was letting so much emotion pour from her over-filled imaginary cup. She was glad for the hug and felt his support but she wished the hug would linger a little longer. He wanted to sit and talk, but she wasn't ready yet. So she held on as he moved her to the couch and made her sit down. He went behind the curtains in the back of the plane and she had some talking to do with herself.

'Come on Parker, pull it together,' she thought in a bit of silent monolog with herself. 'You can do this… It's Nate for cryin' out loud, not Eliot…'

And then Nate was back with hot chocolate; her world seemed to be standing up right again. She managed to have herself back in gear; she needed to get back to the business of the job she was on. Parker knew she needed to stay focused. The blond thief tried to allay the mastermind's fears by telling him that she was fine.

'Ha! Weakness? No, it's not that. It's just my heart breaking is all,' Parker thought of when Nate mentioned that everyone has moments of weakness.

She defended herself by saying that weakness wasn't her case; Eliot hating her after the job was over was a bigger concern. The mastermind admonished her for keeping them all in the dark, but Parker didn't want Eliot to get injured by trying to be a part of the team while he was out of commission. She was protecting him… And it wasn't entirely true; there were people that knew what she was fully up to. If the ones that weren't supposed to know everything, then she knew they would try to stop her. Up next, she had to meet up with Vance and his team, which were Fi, Michael, and Sam. Keeping up appearances with the wedding was working beautifully so far… Hardison had already sent details that the head schmuck had been changed in regards of the shipment. She didn't know the new guy but when she arrived in Los Angeles, the hacker would have that information for her. When Nate asked her about her back-up plan, she really hadn't thought of any other one than blowing shit up. She knew Fi and she would literally have a blast watching all the fake money that they would have in the crates and the drugs get blown up. It would be a good thing to get all of that off the streets and two more cartels destroyed…

Franklin saw there was a storm of confusion brewing in his son's mind as the boy stormed into the bedroom in the wheelchair. He didn't like the signs he saw… They had been moving forward on such a good path… And then his boy had to go and throw up a road block. He would rather it wasn't happening, but it was. The beautiful blond he nicknamed, 'Angel,' needed some help. He didn't want to see her get hurt so; the time had come to show the boy what was going to happen in his dreams rather than actually telling him… It was only bending the rules just a little bit… Rule number one as a ghost, was that you couldn't talk about the afterlife. Rule two; you couldn't talk about what would happen in the future. And rule three; you couldn't change the future. The rules didn't say anything about showing someone the future in a dream… And Franklin had his late wife's permission to show the boy what he needed to see. She'd done her best to help him get a clue… But he seemed to be a little on the daft side.

Eliot had stripped down to his boxer briefs and got into bed. Her words rang in his ears as he tried to relax to fall asleep. He just wasn't the man she deserved; she deserved better. She didn't deserve a mentally, and sometimes physically broken hitter; especially one who tended to be emotionally disconnected when it came to romantic relationships. He sighed… Maybe in the morning, he could make her take him back into the city to a hotel until he could find a new place. Then he closed his eyes. He had no idea how long he was asleep when he began to dream… A scene appeared in his subconscious, of a bullet as it grazed Parker's arm and then he saw another bullet hit her; she went down in slow motion and hit her head… To make it stranger, he heard Beretta's words telling him that one day Parker wasn't going to be around and he was going to kick himself. Then he suddenly woke up in a sweat… He couldn't figure out what the dream meant. He let it all go as just a dream… But when he went back to sleep, he saw Parker get shot again and again; puddles of blood. He saw Vance leaning over her and Westen was there too.

"One day, she's not gonna be around and you're gonna kick yourself for not makin' it right."

Eliot heard Brett's voice in his ear again… And he woke up again… He wasn't sure what was going on. He wondered if he had plain old indigestion. Parker had made spicy food for dinner; yeah, that was it… The spicy food. He added a mental note not to eat the thief's enchiladas again… He rolled over onto his other side and tried to get back to sleep. And then it all happened again but this time, Vance was trying to do CPR on her and Westen was trying to get the bleeding to stop. He heard Beretta's saying again and this time when he woke up he didn't go back to sleep. It had reoccurred four times already and it was said that if a dream happened at least three times; your dreams were trying to tell you something… But what was it? Was Parker going to get shot? The more times the dream occurred, the worse she seemed to be injured. Something about it all was starting to scare him… Was it just his subconscious working overtime since they'd had a fight last night? Eliot got up and changed his shirt before he climbed back into bed. He went back to sleep after that and nothing happened again so he let it all go.

Well, there it was, Franklin had laid it all on the line. Now it was up to Eliot. Obviously, he knew his boy couldn't go after her now, or save her if he went to California. But he could get his friends to look out for her and get her to the hospital in time.

In the morning about seven thirty, Eliot woke up. He put on the braces that Parker had put on him last night… Last night… He felt bad about upsetting her special evening and he wanted to apologize. He wasn't the man for her, but he wondered if there was a right man for a special person like Parker. Once he was dressed, he was hoping to go out and hear her banging around in the kitchen. But when he rolled out of his room, there was no Parker in the kitchen… It was eerily silent. The hitter knew he couldn't make it up the stairs to her room; he could only walk slowly with his legs and they hadn't tackled going up steps yet. So he called after her…

"Parker!" He yelled up the stairs… No answer.

It was so disconcertingly still in the house… It felt like the dust bunnies were even hiding. He looked at the staircase before him; it would be tough but he had to get up to her room. He used his cane with his left arm and carefully used his right arm to get his body up the first step. It had taken a lot of work to just make it up those next three steps. When he finally made it to the top, he hobbled to every door until he found her room, and her dress strewn across the end of her bed.

"Fuck!" Her bed hadn't been slept in…

A few pieces of her clothing were missing but the majority of them were still there. Then he spotted the note on her dresser. He picked up the envelope and opened it…

"Nice try, I know you, Eliot. You're just afraid to love me…," was the entire note.

No, no, no, this wasn't happening. No, Parker had to be here at the farm. She wouldn't just leave… Or would she? He safely made it to the stairs, started back down, and then the doorbell suddenly rang out of the blue. He sat down in his wheelchair and rolled over to the door. The hitter opened it to find Sophie there.

"Shit," the hitter mumbled under his breath.

"Nice to see you too, Eliot. You're up early, darling."

"Where is she?"

"Where is who?"

"Parker, she's gone."

"Oh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's in California, by now at least, love."

"What the FUCK is she doing there?" He was getting madder the more she stalled the sharing of information.

"She's in Los Angeles. That's really all I know, Eliot. I don't know where she is exactly."

"Do the others know where she is?"

"Nate, no. Hardison, most likely. She asked me to come and stay with you this morning."

"I don't need a damn babysitter, Sophie. I can move around on my own."

"Getting upset won't solve anything, love. Why don't you go relax? I'll make you some tea."

"I don't need tea," he ground out.

"Then fine, I'll make some tea for myself and breakfast for us both. Be just a minute, dear."

"Sophie, I'm not kidding here. I need to know where she is now, and I mean NOW!" He yelled at her.

"Well, how do you like that? Why haven't you just contacted Hardison yourself? Or even contacted Parker on your own?"

"No one is answering me; dammit!"

"Eliot, calm down… Let me make some tea and I will get you answers…"