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Parker was on a mission.

Dog Days Are Over played on the radio, requested by some lady called Betty in Boiling Springs as her early morning wake up call. Parker approved. She smacked the wheel as the chorus thundered, the clapping anthem imbuing her with a wealth of positivity. She smiled as she saw Eliot sleep in the seat beside her, his hair a mess and his face oddly innocent in repose. Today was going to rock.

She knew it already.

Making sure Eliot was definitely asleep, since he was sneaky like that, she pulled the radio scanner from the dash, and hooked it up. Time to save him a little time.

It took a few minutes to find the right frequency, but she listened in on the exchanges before confirming she had it. She listened to the woman talking saying she was going for a break to the guy she passed the unit on to. Good. Now then, what to do. A few more seconds and she had it.

"This is Dispatch, calling all cars available to Mercersburg. Repeat all cars to Mercersburg. We have reports of a UFO landing, and sweetie pies, I know they probably been at the apple wine again, but we're getting a heads up that Homeland are en-route and folk are stripping the site? I tell ya. Probably a damn weather balloon am I right? If some of you boys could mosey on down there and keep them all sane I'd sure appreciate it. I'm gettin' feedback too so boys if you could switch to the beta frequency you'd all make my day."

A barrage of on it's and yes ma'ams filled the cab, and Parker winced at the noise but Eliot remained asleep. Or in a Universal Soldiers state of automated recovery. Whatever. Hardison was convinced Eliot was a government project. A last, will do ma'am, and the frequency went quiet. Since she had rendered them incommunicado for about ten minutes before dispatch switched frequency's to find all their troopers, she hoped it was worth it.

Parker wished she could share how great she mimicked the dispatcher called Glenda but satisfied herself with the result. A state trooper roared past her.

And Parker gave him a few seconds to get off the highway, before flooring it, free and clear all the way to Hagerstown. She almost yippee'd as her hair caught in the wind streaming through her window, and she closed Eliot's halfway, not wanting him woken by the buffeting breeze stirred as she hit 120 plus.

For once she prayed the skies were clear. If Eliot knew she was taking such a risk he would lose it. Thinking about Eliot's reaction made her ease off the gas, then she remembered his face in the gloom near the bat enclosure. So she reached over and snapped his seat belt on instead.

She reached Hagerstown in 45 minutes.

Unbearably hot as she pulled up at a gas station, she rummaged in her bag for the tee shirt she wore the day before. Inside her bag was a wrapped parcel of the Plaza' pancakes. Startled, she looked at Eliot and had a strange urge to stroke his forehead. He had saved them for her. Ripping open the wrap she began to munch on a warm pancake, as she wrapped the rest and shoved them in the cooler. She studied Eliot again as she switched tops. He was all long legs and solid chest in the seat, and his arms were folded, the hair on his arms thick and bizarrely, she wanted to rub against him. It made her tummy flip thinking about his arms around her. Like on the terrace. Except she found her imagination removing awkward impediments like clothing from the scenario. She had gotten quite a way with that before realising how inappropriate it was. She checked her cell. No messages.

She used the rest-room then got back on the road, looking for signs to Morgantown , heading west on the I-68.

It was worrying that she hadn't thought about Hardison in a particular way for awhile. Not that she thought about naked scenarios with him much really. She liked his company and he was easy going and easy to bait. He reminded her of kids she had known in foster care. The good ones, who just got on with it. He wasn't damaged at all by it on the surface, but then, he had Nana, she figured. The lovely Nana. Mrs X had been nice but way too late to the party to stop Parker becoming what she was.

Hardison had been saved in time, she reasoned, her head aching with the tug and pull of her thoughts. Or maybe he just hadn't been that damaged to start? He was a verbose guy, always talking, always filtering the world through how shit affected him. Not in a bad way, in a problem solving way. He did whine sometimes, but Nate had kinda bullied that out of him. He didn't scare her in any way. And she knew he cared. Knew he found her attractive. It made things simple.

But did she want simple? Nate and Sophie were a nightmare, but when it was all good, they were like two halves of the same coin. A fucked up coin you couldn't spend in any country on the planet, but still. They were messy but real. Were her and Hardison easy and fake? That felt disloyal, so she stopped thinking about it, not sure where those ideas were leading anyway. A glance at Eliot called her a liar, but she went with the lie. It was easier.

The I-68 proved trickier to scam, but luckily she found a pair of handcuffs in the truck and Eliot's Air Marshall badge in the dash when she got pulled over. Apparently it was less in the badge details and more in the aviation shades she yanked from Eliot's visor and the swagger she affected. She made like he did on flights and even gave them her version of the death stare when her credentials were queried on account of her being a woman. Some quick thinking got her a pass and also a drive through along the highway once the state troopers put out the news that a Marshall was transporting a prisoner to a private flight out of Morgantown Municipal Airport. Turns out she had learnt stuff from Sophie after all. Being a woman in authority was a sweet deal she decided as she passed a troop car with a wave at top speed.

Life could rock sometimes. Who knew Morgantown even had an airfield? The officer had been kind enough to fill in the Municipal part when she stalled. Eliot wouldn't be impressed if he woke up to find himself cuffed to the seat, but hey, they had a wedding to get to right? Parker smiled, as the miles sped by. Yeah, life was good.

They reached Morgantown just after nine. It was a busy city. Clean and neat and bustling. Parker wasn't sure if she liked it or not. It had a farmers market. She wasn't sure what to make of that either. Driving through the city to Downtown, Parker watched as folks said good morning and bought coffee and papers when walking the dog. Shops were opening up and the city switching on.

She wanted to get in and out. If she could do that without waking Eliot, well all the better. This was not something she was comfortable with at all.

Parking up near a coffee shop, Parker unlocked the cuffs in case Eliot woke up and grabbed some of the cash he had left her for gas. He had decided that leaving it in the glove box was a better option than her assurance she could get it from his pocket if required. Spoilsport.

Grabbing a coffee and a Danish from the adorably friendly Jinny at the coffee shop, Parker got the heads up on a place down the block and with a last glance at Eliot, made her way to the store, chewing the Danish like it was her last meal. This was gonna be awkward as hell. At least she had gotten them here in good time. She hoped Eliot's record breaking nap continued, since she did not want him to witness the car crash about to happen. He had dated a lot of models after all. Whatever.

The shop owner, a Miss Camellia Brown, was super excited to assist Parker, who would have preferred to pick up a plain dress in her size and vanished. But no. She had worn dresses on cons, borrowed some of Sophie's stuff on occasion but it was a rare thing, since she needed clothes that fit with the whole, crawling through air-ducts and handstands into offices from the vents. Flashing her underwear couldn't really be a major concern on the job. And she had never picked her own dress before. For a real event. Eliot's real wedding, meant a real dress. It made her sweat.

"You go and get undressed dear and I'll pass things through. Go on." Miss Camellia shooed her into the dressing room when Parker's feet remained planted. In two minds about it, Parker finally caved. Quicker she gave in, the quicker she could leave right?

Stripping in the dressing room made her anxious. It was a weird feeling, standing in a shop in her underwear, just waiting. Usually she ripped clothes off in order to make a fast switch on a job. This was different. She didn't like it at all.

"Miss Brown? Are you done yet because-" Her call was cut short as a pile of dresses appeared over the dressing room door. "Never mind." Miss Camellia had guessed her size easily. Parker was impressed, for an old lady the woman had skills.

"Now try them on and come out to show me if you aren't sure." Parker grimaced, she wasn't sure about anything right now, should she go talk to Miss Camellia in her underwear? No. Even Parker knew that was inappropriate.

"OK." She tried on three dresses in quick succession and hated them all. Too tight, too gaudy, too short. Oh man she was really starting to perspire, her hair sticking to her shoulders as she scrambled in and out of dresses. The door chimed and Parker sighed in relief, happy that Miss Brown's attentions would be distracted whilst she made a swift exit. This was all going wrong. But the next dress was real pretty, and when she slipped it on, the skirt fell just to her knees and flared out, like a dress from the fifties. If she spun about it lifted to reveal a couple of underskirts in a pale shade of green to compliment the deep turquoise of the dress itself. Parker liked the secret underskirts. She liked the way it felt on. The bodice was fitted but not tight, with a square neckline that exposed her collar bone and just a hint of skin at her chest. Small cap sleeves looked pretty the way they puffed out and Parker wanted to wear it all day long. Tiny white flowers were sewn into the drop and edging of the skirt and the sleeves, and at the neckline, breaking up the deep bright colour.

"Miss Brown could you give me a hand?" The dress was buttoned up the back, and though she was confidant it fit, she needed to have the last few buttons done up to make sure. She turned her exposed back to the door and lifted her hair. Waiting.

The knuckles that brushed her skin were definitely not Miss Brown's. Eliot. Her throat tightened inexplicably as air was sucked from her lungs. He fastened each button slowly, his fingers hot on her skin as they skimmed her spine, and Parker breathed deep, as his touch seemed to heighten the sensitivity of her newly tingling flesh with each button. She had never realised how raw another persons skin on yours could feel. Somehow Eliot's fingers turned the simple act of buttoning up her dress into a whole new experience. Into something achingly appealing.

"Thanks." Quiet, and feeling ashamed of her bodies treacherous behaviour as it hummed in the aftermath of his touch, she let her hair fall. Eliot's hand hesitated at her back, and his knuckles traced the line of her spine from her neck to the edging of the dress for one exquisite taut moment. Then his palm, flat at her back on the now buttoned fabric, patting her lightly, as if shaking off the earlier charged connection.

"Nice dress Parker." His voice was hoarse, and she glanced over her shoulder, shyly, wondering if it had affected him in a similar way, then dismissing the notion. Eliot had dated a lot of models and undone a lot of dresses in his time. It was a dangerous idea to go imagining more from him. He hadn't even mentioned the kiss. However sweet he had been on this trip, he was Eliot, and would never-

"Oh good you found her," Miss Camellia interrupted the thought, and Parker was grateful. Her head was a mess and her body all kinds of wobbly. The store owner put her hands together and then made a spinning motion with them, so Parker obliged, avoiding Eliot's eyes as she did it.

"Oh well you look as pretty as a picture! Doesn't she?" Miss Camellia glanced at Eliot expectantly, who looked lost in thought, a frown on his face. He started and caught Parker's eyes before turning to the dainty elderly lady.

"She's beautiful." He said it like he would say the sky was blue, as if it were a fact, irrefutably true.

Parker felt her skin glow, as her heart hammered at her ribs. She found herself unable to look up from the floor and Miss Camellia giggled as she glanced between the two of them.

"Oh well aren't you both adorable?" Eliot winced at that, and Parker smiled. "I suggest you go down the street to Hubbard's, the shoe store. They should be able to find you something in a pump that would-"

"I want boots." Parker wanted boots. She didn't want dainty shoes. She felt panicked at the thought, recalling a disastrous attempt at wearing heels with people watching that she had no desire to repeat, even if it had been for a job.

"Well, I suppose...he carries all kinds, you'll be fine." Miss Camellia left them to it.

Eliot didn't move, and Parker realised she was going to have to ask a favour again, since she still couldn't reach her own back.

"Eliot could you-"

"What? Oh right, sure, no problem." She lifted her hair and this time felt the hair on her nape stand as he stepped closer, feeling stretched and wired like a bomb ready to blow, Parker tried to calm down. It was just Eliot. She had changed in front of him before. Hell, Hardison had done her zipper once too. But this surpassed all that, this feeling of anticipation as his hands hovered over her skin, and she bit her lip, willing herself not to say anything stupid. like she wished he was half naked again. She wished his bare torso was skimming her back along with his hands. Oh God. Why was she a sex fiend all of a sudden? Lack of cereal she figured, knowing it was a lie.

Damn he took his time on the buttons. As each one undid, his fingers grazed her skin, a little lower, a little longer, until neither of them really moved, as her back was exposed once more to the changing room. She watched the mirror, but could only see his arms and the top of his bent head behind her, and she focused on the arms, willing herself to remain standing as he managed to make the practical act as intimate as humanly possible. As the last button opened, she caught the bodice in her hands to ensure it stayed on her chest and span to face him, not entirely sure what she wanted to find.

He was watching her with smoky eyes and a predator still expression. It was hot as hell. And so very wrong. So very wrong.

"Is there a reason you handcuffed me to my seat Parker?" Ahh, that explained it then. He was just pissed off. She feigned ignorance.

"Sorry?" She busied herself with the dress, shooing him out so she could finish getting out of it.

"Any explanation on how we managed a three and a half hour journey in just over two and a half?"

"Maybe I was driving the way the earth was spinning? I heard that helps. Yeah. OK." She closed the door on him and took a second to get it together.

"Parker." He growled from beyond the door, but it wasn't his usual growl. It sounded...well, like an invitation. She shook that idea away. Invitation to what? The whole backing off conversation sprung to mind once more, as it had a lot the past few weeks, and she yanked on her jeans, disturbed. She poked her head from behind the door to see him standing there, eyes on the other shoppers, eyes on the street, ever careful. Ever guarded.

"I may have used your Air Marshall badge and claimed you were a prisoner I was escorting to the Morgantown Airport. Possibly. So I'll get this and we'll-"

Eliot was focusing on the earlier part of her statement.

"Wait, what? How did that even-why would they-"

She pulled on his aviation shades she had tucked into her tee and looked at him over the rim, giving him the death stare she had rocked with the troopers. He grinned, and it lit his face. Definitely handsome. She ignored the traitorous thought.

"You are one dangerous lady Parker. C'mon." He held her elbow as she left the dressing room, escorting her to the counter where the Miss Camellia wrapped the dress up and waved away the cash she tried to hand over.

"Oh your young man already paid." Eliot raised his eyebrows at her and pressed his mouth together, like, what? Parker could think of no good reason to dissuade the lady that he wasn't her young man.

"Oh. Well thanks." Parker left the store confused. She tried to give him the gas money back. He refused it.

"But it's yours anyway. And I owe you for the dress."

"Forget it, let's get you those boots then hit the road. My turn to drive." Eliot led the way, with his hand on the small of her back as they navigated a side-walk getting busier and busier. Parker liked how he didn't try and talk her out of buying boots and into buying something a bit more weddingy. He didn't even flinch when she opted for a pair of black suede mid calf boots with tassels all over. He just shrugged and paid at the counter when she waggled her feet at him. Maybe she could understand why girls liked shoes so much, she thought, as she followed Eliot back to the truck, him carrying her new things. It was nice, this shopping lark. And for a thief, that was a major breakthrough.

"Wait here." He told her as she got in the passenger side. he leaned in, forearms on the frame, his clever hands hanging loose."I gotta take a leak and grab a coffee, you want one?" She shook her head, feeling guilty that he was being as kind as Eliot could be whilst she was thinking wicked thoughts about him. Naked. She needed to stop it.

"Cool, back in five." He tapped the truck as he headed off, and she twisted round, wondering why the hell he wasn't going to get a coffee at Jinny's like she had. But he had vanished before she got the chance. Closing her eyes and resting back in her seat, Parker toyed with her cell, knowing she had to do something, but not exactly clear on the what yet.

A text came through, and she mused before opening it, unwilling to break the spell of the truck, and her and Eliot's road trip, to let the outside world in. Tying her hair in a top high ponytail, she put his shades back on, and drummed on the dash, before guilt made her click view.

After reading, Parker sat and stared into the street ahead, then typed a few words in reply. Send.

The reply was instant. She snapped the cell shut, as if closing a door, and in a way, she was. Thinking hard, she wondered if she was right. Another text and she had to open it, a smile on her face. The text was pure Hardison, but concise in meaning. Well. That changed everything. Tears pricked her eyes for no reason as guilt flooded her, and she dashed them away angrily. Confused by the wealth of emotion Hardison's text had triggered, and overwhelmed by her physical attraction to Eliot that was getting really distracting, Parker sighed, and ignored the lump in her throat.

Eliot arrived back a few minutes after, out of breath. Climbing in, he glanced at her face and frowned.

"You OK Parker?" Genuine concern. It stung deeply for some reason.

"Totally." She looked out the window as Morgantown sped by, unaware that Eliot was frowning her way.

That, Eliot thought sharply, was the piñata voice again. And he didn't like it.