Disclaimer: I still own nothing. :(

I am really enjoying writing this, and appreciate the feedback no end...I am quite excited to see where all this leads myself!

Hopefully I do it justice. :)

Parker thought it was going well. Relatively speaking. After the awkward stealing conversation, which Eliot did not take at all as she had expected, they had given each other some peace, okay, she had given Eliot some peace. Now the sun had all but bled out of the sky, and the sound of the engine and Eliot's humming and quiet singing along to the radio were soothing. She almost wanted to curl up and sleep, but was determined not to. She wanted to match Eliot's stamina. If he could stay awake, so could she. She could ask where they were headed, find out how long this journey would be, but truthfully, she didn't care. It was actually nice not knowing. Her world was geared to plans and thinking five steps ahead. With Eliot at the wheel, and a wedding to attend who knew where, she felt freer than she had in a while. If she needed to know anything major, he would tell her. Since it was a social thing and not work, which she was very very curious about, she allowed herself to relax. She didn't often find herself in a position where she could, so why not? Like anything could happen whilst Eliot was driving. She smiled to herself, pretty sure his bare hands face could stop cars if it had to.

Surreptitiously, she watched him as he drove, one hand at the wheel, the other arm leaning on the open window, his hair whipping across his eyes now and then. He was extremely masculine, she decided. But he wasn't a thug. He was smarter than the others gave him credit for, she knew that. Using your body as your weapon did not make you stupid. It pissed her off sometimes when she offered up an opinion or information about a job and she got that look from the team. The Really? look, like she was nothing but a human skeleton key to be used at will, no mind of her own. They didn't mean it, she knew that, but still, it was annoying that they were still surprised by her knowledge in other areas. Being a thief was one thing. Being Parker was something else. Parker knew diddly squat about a lot of things, but history, the law, architecture, engineering, geography, jewellery, art, sculpture...yeah she knew enough. The little mental pep talk perked her up and she grinned, feeling quite proud of herself. Not bad considering how she started off. Not bad at all. Plus she was mega rich, which was always an awesome thing to remember if you were feeling down. Not that she was feeling down, she shook her head, frowning. No, she was fine. Totally.

"I should wear a dress to the wedding." The thought popped out as she mused on it, and she plucked her bottom lip in concentration. "But Parker doesn't wear dresses. This is awkward, I'll have to be Alice, so she can pick the dress."

"Parker darlin', only ever think aloud in front of me. Any one else would lock you the hell up." He caught her gaze with his and then looked back to the road with an exasperated but indulgent smile. His warning was welcomed, since tempering her inner and outer voice was not something she did much of, and on reflection, that had sounded weird even to her.

"Deal. What are you wearing?"

"A suit." He shifted just a smidgeon in his seat, and she noted it with interest. It might not be a job, but there was something going on with this wedding. Nothing bad, else he wouldn't risk taking her along, but still, there was something. She'd find out she realised, one way or another. Really no point sweating the small stuff. Eliot in a suit was nothing to sniff at either. He wore glasses with a suit sometimes to complete the con, and Parker always thought of him as Clark when he did that. And just like Kent Junior he whipped off his glasses and then kicked ten shades of hell out of whoever it was had the audacity to mess with him or the team. Belatedly Parker realised her hands were moving, and she had acted out the whole glasses off, bad-ass on thing and tried to become invisible as she retracted her arms quietly. She did not need to look to know that Eliot had caught her and that his expression was one of genuine concern.

"What the hell are ya doin' Parker? Do I need to take you to a hospital because I can do that next town-"

"No! I was just thinking about your Clark Kent glasses." She shrugged in apology and watched Eliot's' expression in fascination. From frowning in sheer what the fuck, he was now trying to stifle an embarrassed grin.

"My what now?"

"Clark Kent glasses. You know," God if she knew, he must, unless he didn't have to watch all the stuff Hardison inflicted on her. Well, she amended, introduced her to. That's better. "You wear them and everyone is all, yo Clark's a geek, then you whip 'em off and Superman their asses to o-bliv-i-on." She felt compelled to enunciate oblivion, so he got her point.

"I guess I never saw it quite that way," he sounded hoarse, and Parker threw him another juice. He wouldn't touch soda. Although, he had drifted down a dark path with those cookies before-he rarely ate stuff he hadn't grown or cooked himself. Parker had a theory that he may have been poisoned. More than once. As he sucked on the straw of his juice, which looked incongruous to say the least, Parker noted a subtle shift of temperature in the trucks interior. Gripping her seat she glanced about, since though it was only fractional, it could be an indicator of well, anything. Someone was always trying to shoot them and bombs were not out of the question either. Looking at Eliot to see if he had noticed, she paused, and re-evaluated the danger. He was blushing. And looking determinedly out the window whilst his skin burned, maybe hoping the air would cool it down. Interesting.

"Don't say a word Parker. Not one word."

"Ever again?" She couldn't help let the query out, alarmed by his order. When he used that particular tone, she imagined most of the civilised world would just agree. In fact it would not surprise her if there were people all over the world still crouched in position and keeping shhh because Eliot had ordered them to at some point. It was a mean thought but it made her smile.

"You can't help it can you? You are genetically designed to be as annoying as hell."

"What did I do? And that is not true at all. I don't annoy Hardison or Sophie or Nate." Well that was totally not true even she knew that, but on reflection, it was Eliot who got irritated the most by her lack of discipline, though that had improved enormously, and in fairness, she did torment him when injured. Hmm. She cocked her head and thought about that. She really did bother him a lot actually. Like poking him, and distracting him, and swiping his stuff. It was a bit cringe worthy when she looked at the over all picture. Like a kid with a crush or something. Weird.

The never want to repeat conversation about their midnight pancakes sprang to mind, and Parker reflected on that too. Hmmm.

"Well they obviously have a higher threshold for crazy than I do." He glanced at her then, and for a moment they both maintained serious faces, before his lips twitched and he couldn't sustain it. The absurd statement had them both laughing. It made her happy, knowing that the banter was still that, because she was taking a lot of what he said seriously lately. Everything he said seemed to have layered meanings, and he was becoming distant which sucked. Out of the whole group, he knew her best. He didn't know that, she figured, but he did. Oh not the miserable details of her past, but the reality of what it had forged within her. It was unsettling how every time she teased him, he refused to react recently, and when she had requested more training in martial arts, since the stuff he had already taught her was a definite plus to her already awesome skill set, he had pretty much refused, saying she had all she needed. Probably worried she would become so proficient his services would not longer be needed she thought snippily. She was a very quick learner after all.

"Have I pissed you off without knowing it?" As always, her inner thinking became public knowledge and she winced, not entirely sure she had wanted to verbalise that particular thought. It was, well, personal. She didn't like tiptoeing around people. Bank vaults, yes. People, no.

"You kidding me? Boston knows when you've pissed me off." True, he was pretty loud. But still, the thought nagged, and she realised he hadn't really given much away with his answer. Tricky Eliot was tricky.

"Are you going to be Eliot at the wedding?" It hardly seemed likely, but his demeanour about this being a social thing had her curious. If she could be Parker, would he be Spencer?

"Just call me Eric."

"So it is a job?"

"No. You know the drill Parker, aliases are par for the course. Don't mean you can't be you beneath the name. Remember I told you how you made a friend, not Alice?"

"Oh yeah. It's hard being friend's with people who don't want to steal on their weekends." Hearing the wistfulness in her own voice, she switched her thinking. "I'll be Alice then, but me really." It was quite an exciting prospect and she grinned, grabbing a snack bar as she planned what she would be like at the wedding. Happy and charming and she would not, under any circumstances say the bridesmaids look fat. Even if they did. Maybe she could practice blending in like Sophie tried to teach her to. It would be a learning experience. Excellent, she liked those. She was the best, and that took work. So what if her spare time was spent honing her skills? If you got lazy, you got beat. And that was not something she was prepared to be. Ever again.

Companionable silence filled the truck between them then, and she settled in her seat, reminded of the midnight snack sessions at his place. She undid her ponytail since it was making leaning back a bit difficult and curled her feet up beneath her. Eliot's had sofa's which she preferred to her own single bed set up. Plus she had installed a rotating infra red laser system to surround her bed now, and just getting in and out of her bed was work. Which was good, but sometimes, after a tough gig, it needed building up to. It pleased her that she had the latest tech, though Hardison would probably not entirely understand why she had installed it. Why make work for yourself? He was epic smart, but in a way, hacking was a way of doing the work without doing the work. He wrote so many programmes that each time he cracked a new system or created a new fix, every job on his end got slicker and slicker. Which was awesome. But her role wasn't like that. She had to physically adapt to each new job, and since the systems were based on random rhythms in order to remain secure, she needed to keep up. There were always new safes to crack too, and they weren't all hackable. She was as nimble in body as he was in mind she realised, pleased with herself for the thought. Then diverted her mind from Hardison because she was a little tender on the subject. She liked him a lot. Didn't like it when he got close to other people, and it made her feel nice when he complimented her. She had never had a guy like him be so attentive before, so caring. He was a good guy. Just like Eliot said. But she didn't associate those feelings with sex. And naive as she could be, she was pretty sure sex was a factor in relationships. So she stopped thinking about it, because it was weird.

Eliot was lost in thought as she watched him, and she wondered who he was thinking about. She wondered if he stressed about such things, and then decided probably not. Sophie had joked with him once that he didn't have a love life, he had a sex life, and he had grinned in response, as if to say, and the problem with that is..? Curious, Parker began to form an idea that maybe he had it right. She had slept with men before. Not many. But she knew what sex was about. It felt like she was tainting her and Hardison's relationship by bringing it into the equation and that made her uncomfortable. Maybe love and sex were supposed to be separate.

Taylor Swifts song, The Story Of Us came on the radio and Eliot flicked his eyes at her quick before turning it up a touch. Like she wouldn't notice. Huh. A knot in her chest made her cross her arms in order to ease it.

Parker had an irrational hatred of Taylor Swift. The sound of her voice made her teeth ache. Eliot was tapping the steering wheel, and as she listened, he was singing the song. Seriously singing the damn chorus in his low smoky voice that she liked. And the words were somehow a reflection of all the things she was thinking about their friendship, and the awkward shift it had taken recently. Damn that Taylor Swift, damn her to hell, Parker cursed mentally. She was a freakin' mind reader. Parker had never minded the country singer before, well, she didn't really pay attention to most things other folks did. But then Eliot had gotten a call about doing some private security at a gig in Memphis, and had flown off for four whole days. Sophie and Hardison had spent the entire time watching Bodyguard and informing Parker of all the similarities between Costner and Eliot and Whitney and Taylor. Yeah right. Stupid film, that was as improbable as...well, damn, being part of this crew had thrown a whole lot of improbable scenarios under the bus these past few years. Impossible was a word they smirked at.

Then he had returned and wore a cowboy hat for a week and done nothing but grin like an idiot whenever they asked about Taylor Mind Reader Swift, and gave the gang CDs as presents and just been insufferable about it all. Parker had melted her CD in Eliot's microwave. Talented. That's all they kept sayin', she was talented and so talented...Parker realised she was doing her mocking face and muttering talented over and over in a stupid voice, but couldn't hold it in. Eliot caught the tail end and she could see from his furrowed brow he was about to ask if she needed a hospital again and well enough damn it. Taylor sang The End, and Parker decided it was.

She yanked the stereo from the dash and threw it out the window, then sat back with her arms folded, just a little bit breathless as realisation hit, and with it, a wobbly feeling of dread over Eliot's reaction.

The loudest silence she ever heard filled the truck, beating Taylor's for sure she thought bitchily, and she was sure she could hear Eliot's rage in his veins, thundering up to greet her like lava from a volcano. He was prone to eruptions of Pompeii proportions. She told herself not to panic, but when he calmly indicated left, and pulled of the main highway, she was scared. Not that he would hurt her, that was dumb, but that he was going to finally stop putting up with her crazy. That was terrifying.

He parked up, and sat quiet for a minute, gathering his thoughts. She knew that's what he was doing because he had that pinched look on his face like when he solved the problem of how to take down six guys simultaneously and usually it was an expression she found comforting. Now it was in relation to her being the problem, not so much.

Without saying a word, he took the keys, climbed out of the truck and stalked across the car park to a diner she hadn't even noticed looming over them.

Parker watched his back vanish through the doors and told herself to wait. He'd cool off, get his head right and come back. But through the glass windows of the diner she saw him take a booth, and pick up a menu, a perky brunette smiling at him as she took his order. She willed him to turn so she could gauge his mood. He purposefully avoided looking out to the car park. To her. Well shit Parker, what the hell did you do that for? What on earth could she say to get him to forgive her now? She glanced at the rest of the car park, noting all the rigs pulled in for an evening meal, and knew, without doubt, stealing a radio from them would totally not get Eliot back on side. Crappola.

She got out of the truck, and wondered what to do. Then realised, and cursed herself all over.

One last glance at Eliot, to check he was there, which he was, as was the waitress because apparently the notion of fast food was beyond her, and she left the car park. Taylor damn Swift, this is entirely your fault, she thought. Then bit her lip, since she had said it out loud going on the looks of a couple walking into the diner off the street. Blast it.