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So I wrote this :)
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Eliot would burn in hell for this one he was sure of it. I mean, he had done some bad shit in his day but this...suck it up man. He rapped on the glass and waited. His death stare came in handy again, since the security guard at the desk took a minute, then buzzed through on the coms to him.
"Can I help you Sir?" Eliot crossed his fingers on Parker's ass and went for it.
"Well I don't know son, can you? 'Cause you ain't lettin' me in, and that's pretty much all I am after at this precise moment in time." Texas baby. He could do Texas. He channelled a little Tommy Lee Jones, ala U.S Marshalls, not Man of the House, since that sucked, and owned it.
"I'm sorry Sir and you are?" They were looking on their monitors so Eliot looked up at the camera rather than through the coloured bronze glass. He patted Parker's rump and waved.
"Son, I appreciate it is late, but perhaps you should worry less about me and more about this handful right here? I believe y'all know her as Miss Teen USA?" He lifted his shoulder and Parker bounced, yelping a little. He squeezed her ass in warning.
Rapid rethinking at the other end of the intercom. Panic. Eliot loved it when he got them to panic.
"Now, I'll be wanting to talk to whatever bright young spark allowed this precious cargo to access a fake I.D? Y'all know she's eighteen don'chu? Where I come from son, tha's a hangin' offence right there and her daddy, who pays my salary by the way," he flashed his creds at the camera before tucking them away again and putting his hand on the back of her knees,"has been losin' his mind all night lookin' for this darlin' girl."
A pause and a phone call. Confirmation her daddy had indeed called. Well, Eliot had. Pretending to be him, to check she was actually out. Horrified scrambling ensued.
"I'll let you in Sir, sorry Sir, and her key is..?"
"If I were to tell you where I found this peach son, I'd have to kill you. You worry on your key card being compromised boy, and I'll not tell you what else has been compromised tonight. No sirree Daddy is not gonna like what I have to tell him I know that."
So going to hell.
The door clicked open.
He walked in.
Two security guards met him in the lobby, and he eye-balled them both. One looked passable, the other, laughable. They looked at Parker's prone form and a mass of blonde hair and one blanched and began to tip his head to see her face.
"I can't believe that is.."
"Well it is son. What can I say? We raise 'em tough in Texas. Been out drinkin' with a bunch of your elite. Who left her without a damn dime or way to get home. Now I don't know what kinda manners y'all have up in this city? But that's not how we do it in Texas." He moved as he spoke, swinging Parker back and forth and she was a rag doll, hair flying and arms dangling all over. "Y'all are just lucky she had my number memorised. Oh yeah, I know, it's impressive. She's got a head for numbers this one, smart girl." He patted her ass. Again. He was getting a kick out of it truth be told. Payback. Hell yes. She could tease and he could too. The younger guard followed the movement and continued to stare at Parker's rear.
"I'm sorry son, can I help you?" The guard blinked as Eliot garrotted him with his eyes. "Do you enjoy teenagers gettin' wasted on your watch so you can help 'em out? Are you the son of a bitch that gave her the I.D? Are you? Are you?" He advanced as he spoke and the guard shrank back in horror.
"No Sir, never!" He looked a little nauseous at the accusation, but Eliot could only see a guy staring at a supposedly eighteen years old's wasted ass. Worse, actually Parker's. The older guard raised a hand, placatingly.
"Young Roy here didn't mean any disrespect Mr.."
Eliot just raised an eyebrow at him. The are you shittin' me eyebrow.
"Sir, he didn't mean anything Sir. If we could help her to her room, we'll get all this sorted out and daddy doesn't have to know. Kids having fun, that's all this is. I'm sure the hangover will put a stop to any further wild nights."
"Y'all better hurry up, I'mma puke right here on this floor once it stops spinnin'." Parker piped up on his shoulder, well croaked up, and he was pretty impressed with her drawl.
"Well? Y'all heard the girl. Lead the way."
"Well, but, we can-"
"I have left her side for less than half a day son, foolishly believin' she was in safe hands here. If y'all think I am leaving her be after this? Forget it. Her daddy is a Texan son. Know what that means?" Both shook their head. Calling a guy old enough to be his father son and having it stick made him grin on the inside. "Over protective and trigger happy. Now move."
"Well, we can't leave the lobby Sir, if you just go on up I'm sure you'll be-"
"Urgh, help me, I'm dyin'." Dyin' had about eighteen vowels the way Parker moaned it, and she slid on his shoulder, making him adjust her with both hands. Hair everywhere and her ass centre of attention again. The young guard averted his gaze quicker than grease in a pan and the older guard looked worried he may need to clean up puke off his shoes.
"In case y'all didn't notice, I have my hands full about now? If one of you gentlemen would be so kind?" He nodded to the elevator, that needed a code he didn't have to access it. The younger guard hopped to it, eager to redress his earlier error. Eliot approved. The older guy shook his head bemoaning teens today and went back to his desk. At the elevator, the guard tapped in a code that Parker and he both managed to score, and as Eliot made to step in, Parker reached out from over his back to stroke the guys uniform, peeking at the guard from beside Eliot's hips.
"Thank-you kindly, you're so darn cute from down here, whassyur name ag'in?" Man if he was channelling Tommy Lee, she was his flirtier feminine self. Tammy Lee. The guard stammered and she thrashed her head, all blonde hair, lipstick smears and ass. They were in. Eliot stood at the back and looked at the kid again. Nodding to the plate inside.
"My hands ain't gotten any less busy son." Hastily the kid nodded and leant in to punch the floor and tap in the code. He vanished as the doors closed and Eliot gave him the thanks schmuck wave.
Even as the elevator rose he didn't let her down, since the cameras were pretty obvious. Plus she felt good. Which was by the by. And he wasn't thinking about how pliable she was. Or energetic. Or liftable. Nope, none of that kind of imagery was running through his mind at all. Her head was at his hip and man was he very very not thinking how close she was to an area of his anatomy he had been blissfully unaware she had had any contact with before now. This was not blissful ignorance this time around however, it was excruciating torture that the Chinese would envy. The elevator stopped at one point, and Eliot watched as a pop star walked in. It was plain that she was a pop star. Parker kneed him in the ribs and he got the message.
"Feelin' well enough to stand now sugar? Why certainly." He dumped her back on her feet in front of himself, and she slid from his front to behind him, then clung to his other side,closest to the pop star. Parker put her head on his arm, leaning in and spying on the other occupant who rode up with them through her mess of hair. God he hoped she didn't sniff her. Or lick her, or whatever insane thing her curiosity drove her to do.
The pop star got off a few floors later.
"D'you know who that was?" She hissed chewing her hair to cover her face since she had made the cameras herself. He nudged her behind him a little, conscious of their cover.
"Nope."
"Eliot!" Disbelieving. "You must know. If I know, you must know."
"Do I look like a man interested in pop stars?"
"Indiscernible mumbling freakin' Swift," was all he heard. He hid a smirk.
"What's that crazy cakes?"
"Forget it. That was her. You know," Parker lifted her arms up and held one wrist with the other hand, then performed the booty shake like she had ants in her pants, singing, o-oh-o-oh-o-oh-oh-oh or some such insanity. Eliot wasn't listening, he was too busy looking. He almost stood back and asked for a repeat performance.
"I thought you couldn't dance." Because that was talent right there, what she did with the booty shake. Hell yes it was.
"Is that dancing? I thought she was fitting. I used it to get through the rhythmic lasers at the Federal Bank of Res..."She trailed off under his stare, and he snapped out of it with effort. The image she created was one he would cherish. Forever. She began to sway and he almost went to catch her till he realised she was acting drunk. Not that anyone witnessing her dance could think otherwise. She leaned on his like a post, hair over her face and arms akimbo.
"So what floor do we need," he kept his voice low, he could not detect a mic, just a camera but that Donald Trump was a paranoid bastard. Probably wired the whole building. Eliot sighed, bad toupes always made people crazy. Because the world was really talking about them after all.
"At least 50."
"Jesus, don't think I didn't count the floors P..rincess." He hissed not at all happy with her. "This is a 58 storey building. Shoot why not make it the roof huh?"
"Could we do that?" She looked up hopefully and his heart pounded at the sight of her on his chest. She looked bed tumbled. He shifted uncomfortably.
"No we can not. I'm betting all that she has a balcony you can fling yourself off. You know, that way you do." Keeping his voice at a murmur, she nodded then flopped on him again. "What are you doing?"
"Acting the part. Oh and Miss Teen USA? That's creepy."
"Well sorry sugar but right now she's blonde and so are you."
"How'd'you know she lives here?" A whisper as she chewed her hair again. At least he hoped this wasn't an accusation this time.
"All the winners live here, she was one that'd work." Plus, he shifted again, avoiding her eyes.
"Eliot." A warning, just like he used Parker. It made his ribs expand funny that she copied his ways like that. And he wondered if she would be talkative in bed. He figured with the right guy she could be...Stop it. Stop that right now you gutter minded cretin.
"I know her father all right?" Man he wasn't going to tell her that, but it just slipped out under duress and those eyes. Crapolla. "That's how I knew who to be when I called. Now shut it and look like you are gonna puke."
"Sure." She bent over, hands on hips and he rubbed her back with a weary expression for the benefit of those watching. Rubbing her back was nice. Apart from the harness she wore which was a bit freaky. But still, he stroked her back with there there mutterings and they rode to Miss Teen USA's floor.
"I have no idea which is her suite or how..."
"Swiped his master key Eliot," she informed him from her bent position. "It doesn't matter so long as we are facing the right direction."
"We're here. At Floor 51. Sweet. " The elevator stopped, and Eliot walked and Parker stumbled into the hallway.
It wasn't that hard to see which room was Miss Teen USA's. Her picture was framed beside her front door, the one in which she was crowned. Eliot smiled at it. Kid had grown up real nice bless her, her recalled a precocious toddler once upon a time, who her daddy loved more than life. Sweet kid.
"You passed me off as her?" Parker sounded incredulous.
"Sure. You're beautiful and blonde, it wasn't hard Parker." What's the big deal? Tip a person upside down it ain't all that easy to identify them.
Parker looked at him far too soberly for a second.
"What?" He sighed. Whatever. "C'mon, I gotta get you in and get myself out so-"
"OK." Placidly she shuffled beside him and they swiped the master to get in.
"If that's triggered a misuse of the master, I should be able to give these guys the run around a bit to cover you next door. Damn it's annoying not having a person in your ear tellin' you shit."
"I think it's exciting. Old school. We hear an alarm and run, relying on our wits and cunning." She winked at him. He stifled a grin. Crazy ass Parker. Diggin' it old school huh? Somehow even that became a lascivious thought. He tugged at his collar.
"Let's check the balcony."
They ran through the suite, which did look, despite the luxury, like a teenage girl lived there. Huh.
Score. A balcony stretched the entire length of the living space. But Parker was frowning.
"What the hell is it? Do your thing and I'll meet you on the ground, give me 5 minutes to reach the night guards at-"
"The balcony's facing the wrong direction." Parker chewed her lip, working out the problem and he groaned.
"I thought you had this figured out? Darlin' this is feeling an awful lot like doing it on the fly right about now." He followed her to the balcony railing and looked down. Jesus wept. He closed his eyes. Never could get used to it.
"Oh c'mon Eliot, aren't you having fun?" She slipped her arms about his waist and hugged him sweetly. Damn how could he be pissed when she had hair like a nest and lipstick all over? He sighed and patted her arm.
"Well, you solve your thing and I'll be seeing ya in a few." He walked back into the lounge and she followed him, working shit out in her head.
"Oh I already solved it." He looked down at her, and then at his waist and chest. How the fuck had she...
"Hell no. Hell to the no Parker I ain't-"
"No time Eliot, run!"
And then she grabbed his hand and charged at the balcony, and he went with her because they were now attached and not too would get her hurt and Jesus Christ she launched them off in complete sync turning as they reached the edge and grabbing him tight, chest to chest. Her smile was blinding. Eliot tried very hard not to notice in the all consuming rush that she linked the rail as they leapt it, and that her hands gripped his neck just so and her chest on his was soft and-
They were shooting head first off the Trump Tower, and she was swinging them round to try and hit the roof of Tiffany's.
Good. Freakin'. God.
Eyes open and on hers every second, he flew with her, promising himself that if they survived this, he was going to kill her. Oh yes he was.
The rush bled into his head and her eyes and smile filled his vision even as his body reacted with adrenalin pouring into every cell.
On the fly in fuckin' deed.
PS: Apologies to the lovely Miss Teen USA for impugning her character ;) Sorry 'bout that!