Author's Note: I don't own Leverage. Dean Devlin and TNT do. So don't sue.
Part One: Carrie Underwood – Last Name
Part Two: Taylor Swift – Style
Part Three: Up, Up, and Away – The Fifth Dimension
Part Four: Waiting For Superman - Daughtry
Eliot's Apartment
Parker winced at the volume of the music blasting from Eliot's stereo. Some god awful country singer was wailing about her lost love…or her lost dog?…
She couldn't tell. Nor did she care. Parker's head ached. Her joints were sore. And her hangover was getting the better of her.
It was small consolation that Eliot was keeping his mouth shut. He had decided to occupy his time by cooking food that smelled so good she wanted to eat it regardless of whether it came back up or not.
Unfortunately, it only served as a reminder as to why she was there. Before Hardison had ditched her, they were supposed to be meeting for dinner. She now realized she hadn't had anything substantial to eat for the last day and a half. On top of that, she'd consumed enough alcohol to rival a seasoned drunk at happy hour.
The far off sound of Eliot mumbling made her attempt to look in his direction. It sounded like "HoomanifingasamIholdup?" But it was just too hard to concentrate.
The edges of her vision were getting blurry and flashy. No matter how loud the hitter yelled, the poor thief felt like she was staring into a tunnel.
Finally, the frustrated Southerner gave up and got right in her face.
"HOW MANY FINGERS AM I HOLDING UP?"
Parker flinched back. She couldn't count even if she wanted to. Rather than confuse herself, Parker dropped her head on her arms and flashed Eliot one of her own fingers in response. The middle one.
The hitter held back a smirk. "Trick question. I've got oven mitts on. Hey, you want to name them too?"
"Bastard." The insult was halfhearted. Mostly because she was trying not to laugh at how stupid he looked with his alligator pot holders (which she could just barely make out now that her head had stopped spinning).
"Yeah I guess I am a bastard. Who else would force you back to consciousness just so you can enjoy a perfectly baked birthday cake?"
"Issit choclate?" She mumbled hopefully.
"Coffee first. Then chocolate."
"But I want it now." Parker whined.
"Sure thing. Just tell me how old you are."
That stopped the thief in her tracks.
"I don't know." She whispered.
Knowing better, Eliot stared her down. "Give me your ID."
"NO!" Parker balked. "You'll only take it away and make me get a new one."
"Let me get this straight. You're worried about me stealing from Little Miss Pickpocket? Let's not forget who's carrying the damn thing seeing as how you freakin' stole it back when I took it at the bar.
Parker eyed him suspiciously before admitting defeat. Eliot was right. All she'd have to do was steal it back. How hard could it be?
"Turn around." She commanded.
With a roll of his eyes, Eliot made a big production of following orders.
When she was sure he wasn't looking, she inched her hand slowly down to her right sock; moving as slowly as possible to avoid falling on her ass again. In a few seconds, Alice White's ID was back on the table.
As soon as Eliot heard the click of the card on the counter, he lunged for it.
"So according to your fake ID….Alice was born in 1987." He read.
"Which means what?"
"You do the math." He laughed.
"I'm too damn drunk." Parker moaned.
Eliot sighed. "Are you kidding me? You can calculate a trajectory from rooftop to rooftop but you can't subtract to find your own birthday?"
"My head is fuzzy. I can't do math when my brain is acting all funny." She complained, trying to grab the card back.
Once again, Eliot snatched it from her. "You're thirty Parker."
"Why do you care about how old I am?" She scoffed indignantly. "Aren't I supposed to be the one who's upset here?"
"Well, I need to know how many candles to put on a certain drunk girl's cake.
"Can I light them?"
"There is no way I'm letting you play with that much fire."
"But it's my birthday." She pouted.
"Yeah. Question is, what are we gonna do about it?"
Part Two: Style
"Okay, Parker. Don't make me say it again. Close your eyes."
"Where are we going?"
"We are on our way to get your birthday gift."
"Where is it? And who's it from? I have to know who to thank."
"Sophie and Nate called in a favor. Apparently she has this friend who slept with Nate's friend who…" Eliot broke off, unsure of how to proceed. If he couldn't bloody well remember their explanation, it was no use explaining it to Parker. "It's a present from the team."
"But why do I have to wear a blindfold to get it?"
"Because they want you to be surprised."
"Can't you just tell me and I'll act surprised?"
"Yeah sure Parker, and then I'll be Sophie's errand boy on her next Parisian shopping spree. That woman can sense a lie and a sale from ten miles away."
Using the words shopping and Sophie in the same sentence made Parker involuntarily shudder. Fewer words were never spoken as Eliot helped her into his truck.
"You sure you're sober?" He cautioned.
"Yeah, I'm on a total caffeine rush now. My brain's operating twice as fast as it was two hours ago."
"Perfect…" Eliot muttered as he slapped her wandering hand away from the radio.
"No way Parker. My truck, my rules, my music."
"My birthday." The blonde haired beauty reminded him.
Eliot sighed before giving in (just this once). Wincing at the noise emanating from the stereo, he tried to focus on staying on the road. It took all he had in him not to crash the car just to get away from Parker's Taylor Swift impersonation.
Part Three: Up, Up, and Away
It took two hours, but they finally made it to their destination.
Everything had been prepared according to the hitter's instructions. Even Hardison was there, following an online tutorial to prepare Parker's gift.
"Hey mama!" The hacker greeted as she walked right past his open arms. Even though she was blindfolded, she could tell exactly where he was. Hell, they were in the middle of an open field, and she was still trying to put distance between them.
Hardison sighed, and tried once again to justify himself. "Okay, I know you're mad, but let me explain. Yes, I did have a date. But I was working on a surprise for you too. I just didn't know what to get so…"
Before he could say Eliot had helped him, Parker took off her blindfold and gasped.
Standing in front of her was a seventy-foot bag of hot air, pushing itself up off the ground as it inflated before her very eyes. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Parker ran up to her new toy - a hot air balloon with a picture of Sailor Moon on the side.
"Oh my God! THANK YOU HARDISON! I LOVE IT! I knew you wouldn't forget!"
Naturally the thief assumed that the hacker was the one who did all the work while Eliot watched from the sidelines. But it didn't matter. Watching Parker filled the hitter's heart with amazement as he took in her twenty pounds of crazy over such an extravagant gift. She poked and prodded every inch of the fabric and waited with baited breath until she could squeeze herself into the gondola basket.
Hardison, on the other hand, was filled with relief. He took a second to whisper 'thanks man' to Eliot, who in turn replied that the hacker owed him. For life.
"COME ON YOU COWARDS!" Parker yelled over her shoulder, replacing Eliot's amazement with terror. If she wouldn't get on a horse for him, there was no way he was stepping foot in that death trap.
The hitter met Hardison's shove with a push of his own. The two dragged their feet, each trying to get behind the other in the hopes that there wouldn't be enough room for the last person.
"Man, she's your girlfriend." The hitter groused.
"Uh-uh. Not anymore. We have an agreement."
"Screw your agreement Hardison. I don't wanna get killed because of it."
"Hey! When it comes to Parker and driving, it's every man for himself."
"Good thing I'm the man." Eliot asserted. Ignoring Hardison's protests, he grabbed the hacker's arm, twisted it behind his back, and escorted the hacker safely into the gondola. Unfortunately, he neglected to leave enough time to plan his own escape.
Parker's gleeful smile became almost maniacal as she realized that all three of them indeed fit snugly inside the basket.
"Okay boys…get ready for the ride of your life!" She cheered.
Eliot glared at Nate and Sophie, who waved from far away down the field. Once again, he wondered exactly how he ended up in these situations. As Parker fired up the burner, he found himself in internal prayer. If he were any less of a man, he'd be whimpering like Hardison, instead of mentally preparing to kiss the ground goodbye.
Part Four: Waiting For Superman
"It wasn't that bad." Parker proclaimed, laughing at the two men who were scared out of their wits.
Hardison begged to differ. As soon as they hit the ground, he flew out of the basket and emptied his stomach on the sweet sweet grass.
Eliot on the other hand was still cowering in the corner of the basket. Everything would have been fine if Parker hadn't insisted he look over the edge. He'd done it just to make her happy, and it was the biggest mistake of his life. This coming from a man who had been on the ladder of a helicopter suspended in mid-air over the Atlantic.
Somehow, this was different – mostly, because Parker's version of driving included very unnecessary ups and downs using a glorified Bunsen burner.
He was never going ballooning again. At least that's what he kept telling himself. Still, there was a small (oh so small) part that knew it was worth it to see Parker happy again. He never could stand to see her cry. In all the time he had known her, she'd only been moved to tears twice. Now the count was up to three - because of this birthday amnesia business.
Thank God that was over. He'd had enough excitement for one day.
Rather than join the others for dinner, he opted to go back home. Besides, Parker and Hardison still needed to sort things out. Truth be told, so did he. He'd done a lot more for Parker than he'd intended to, and it made him feel things. Uncomfortable things. Things long since buried.
All this talk of flying and hot air balloons made him feel like Superman trying to save the day for her. Question was, why was he doing Hardison's job? And for Parker of all people? Maybe he was finally accepting that they were a part of this team. His team. And he would do anything to keep the peace between them.
Needing some of that peace right now, he looked longingly at his bed. But something was stopping him from getting in it. It took him a minute, before he realized what it was. The bedroom window had been left open – and he'd closed it before leaving. Of that he was certain.
Narrowing his eyes, he turned towards the closet of his bedroom – having a good idea of exactly what (or whom) he would find.
Sure enough, as soon as he opened the door, Parker's guilty eyes met his. Eliot went from straight up pissed to mildly annoyed to reluctantly curious in ten seconds flat.
"What's the matter Parker? Why aren't you with the others?"
"Dinner is over. It's bedtime. And your place is closer than mine."
"Come again?"
"Do you want me to be alone on my birthday?"
"Dammit that's what Hardison's for."
"Oh. Well I sent him home."
"Why?"
"He doesn't want me. He wants her."
"Let me rephrase. Why are you here?"
"Nate and Sophie make too much noise."
Eliot pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh for the love of..." "Boundaries Parker!"
"Well it's true!"
"And what exactly were you planning on doing here that you couldn't do at your place?"
"Eat cake?" She quipped, trying to be cute so he wouldn't throw her out.
"Parker you polished off more than half of it this afternoon!"
"What? It was good." She protested, smiling as innocently as her personality would allow.
Eliot sighed and then relented. "I guess I'll take that as a compliment. I am an incredible chef. But that still doesn't answer my question."
"You're more than that Eliot. That's why I wanted to say thank you. You know, for earlier. You were nice to me, and you didn't have to be. I mean, normally you're all growly, but who knew you had a heart underneath all that grizzly bear."
"Yeah, well…you're welcome. I think…."
"Eliot, I think there's something else you should know."
The hitter paused, waiting for her to continue. She seemed to be treading into dangerous territory even for her.
"Okay, you know that guy whose ass you kicked at the bar?"
"Yeah. What about him?"
"I think I sort of came on to him first."
The shame on Parker's face made him think twice about his next words.
"It doesn't matter Parker. He still should have kept his mouth shut." The hitter affirmed.
"It's just…he seemed so nice at first. So I tried being nice back. Then when he offered to buy me a drink, he got all grab-assy. I was trying to find someone to replace Hardison, you know? I thought a one night stand was exactly what I needed. And then I realized there's one big problem with that: me."
"There's nothing wrong with you Parker."
"Yes there is. You tell me so all the time."
"I don't… I don't mean it. I just get frustrated when you go off kilter – especially on the job. Besides, you call me names too."
"That I do." Parker laughed, cutting off the direction of her thoughts. "Thanks again Sparky. For everything."
"Anytime Parker. Just try not to let one bad apple spoil the whole bunch...or uproot the tree itself.
The thief nodded. For once something he said actually made sense to her.
Now, go to bed." He commanded, pulling her in to give her a kiss on the forehead.
The weird look she gave him made him feel bad about almost laughing out loud. "You can stay if you want." He confirmed. "But just for tonight. Anyways, I sleep better knowing there's someone else keeping watch. Don't ask me how, but I know you do too. So I'll take the chair. You take the bed."
"It's your room Eliot. Besides, I sleep better in the closet."
The hitter knew when he'd been bested, so he let his gentlemanly instincts go. "You've got yourself a deal then."
That being said, he took a few blankets and some pillows and arranged them comfortably for her in the walk-in closet space.
"If you need anything else let me know."
"Eliot?"
"Yeah?"
"Sweet dreams." With that, she curled up in her space and was fast asleep, leaving him to wonder why he still had a smile on his face as he closed the door and made his way back to bed.
