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Parker had not spoken for an hour and a half.

This should be cause for celebration for Eliot, since it gave him peace to just drive south, listen to country and take in the view.

Except the silence was scraping on his last nerve and he wanted a distraction from the never ending road and the monotonous spectacular scenery as they drove past protected reserves of land. He had thought the amazing panorama would never get old. Yet he was hankering for blonde hair and a devilish smile instead. Man he had screwed up. It was obviously because of what he did in the dressing room of that store.

Not that he did anything. Not really. I mean, she was all touchable and gorgeous as always, and maybe he had taken advantage of the situation. But he had not intended to. Not at all. Damn, Eliot couldn't even convince himself. One look at her naked back and he had had to restrain the urge in every cell of his body to shut the door on the stall and rip that freakin' dress off of her, buttons be damned. Her skin was like vanilla, and her hair shimmered with hints of gold and that colour just made her look like a sexy ass sprite or some shit and oh lord he was in trouble. Even her eyes glowed when she peeked over her shoulder, the turquoise enhancing the multi-coloured gems and lightening them a shade, giving her an ethereal like quality. Very other worldly.

His hands slipped on the wheel and he paid renewed attention to his actions. He was losing it man.

From the corner of his eye he could see her cell spinning endlessly in her hand, and the cell symbolised all the reasons, well, the one very significant reason that his thoughts were straying into territory he had no right for them to. Hardison. Her boyfriend. His friend. His colleague. Even as he felt guilty in regards to the hacker, he resented him too. He should have taken Parker with him. That's what normal couples did. Went places together. Instead, he had asked Eliot to play babysitter for a grown ass woman, as if that were appropriate. As if he weren't a guy who saw Parker as an alluring female just because he called her on her crazy shit. Did Hardison think Eliot was not attracted to Parker? That made him pause. Did the team really think he saw her as a little sister the way they figured she viewed him as an older brother? He supposed that could be the impression he gave off. But what else could he do? How else was he supposed to freakin' act around her when her and H had a thing going? They had grown comfortable with each other on their own terms, reached an understanding and level of trust that maybe the team just hadn't seen. Or hadn't wanted to see. Oh man he was being a chump. Getting mad at everybody and everything because of his own failings. It wasn't Hardison's or Nate's or Sophie's fault.

They weren't aware of the midnight snack visits, or that he and Parker had been forced to face the darkness within that had forged survivors from them on that damn mountain. It was him she went to when she wanted to learn, it was him who teamed up with her on jobs because he always had her back and knew she would have his damn it. They shared a unique connection that made working together easy. He guessed that was why he had half woken in the truck and realised his hands were cuffed only to fall back to sleep. Because Parker was at the wheel, and for all her strangeness, he trusted her to get the job done. So he had simply filed the query away to ask later and let sleep take him.

Eliot was pretty sure his nap was the longest he had managed in a very long time too, and wondered about that. His mind worked overtime usually, and he had so much to do that sleep was just another thing to tick off a list of chores he set himself each day. In the truck, without those tasks, exhaustion had finally bit, and he felt the benefit of the longer rest keenly. His mind was sharper, his eyes brighter and the wound on his arm ached less. Maybe he needed to be exhausted to give in to it he reasoned, and Parker had managed to wear him out where others had tried and failed. It had been one hell of a night after all. An alternative method for Parker wearing him out sprang far too quickly to mind and he pushed the mental images away. Ass hole.

Her silence was acute and it pierced him somewhere deep. What did he want anyhow? Parker to fall for him? How dumb would that be? To what end? She was not a woman into games of this sort, and he was pissed about infecting her with his own selfish desires. He was no school boy. He knew how to amp up the sexual volume with a woman, and he had done that on this trip. Sure she had triggered it with her teasing back after the gas station, but he could have backed off. He hadn't, and that was on him.

Getting involved with Parker was not an option, whether she was single or not. He didn't do commitment, having been burned by that empty promise before, and was honest enough to know, his life style did not suit it. Casual was his forte. Nothing hot and heavy, no emotional entanglements, just good company and great sex. Nothing wrong with that. It didn't make him a bad guy. But messing with Parker's head did, because they were emotionally invested, how could they not be after working together all this time? Adding sex to that would be a disaster. Not that it was an option. Fuck his thoughts were spiralling and he hated being out of control. He liked plans, and goals and shit that made sense. Simple. He liked to keep shit simple.

What he was feeling was anything but.

Kelly Clarkson got intro'd on the radio, and he found himself glancing over at Parker as Walk Away burst into the trucks interior. The song infused him with irritation over her silent treatment. He could see her eyes flickering to him, then skidding away, and he tried to cap the temper rising in his chest. Yet Kelly Clarkson seemed to feel his pain, and as she belted out the classic, he discovered a whole lot of righteous indignation roaring through his veins. Screw it.

He pulled over onto the grassy verge beside the highway, not giving a crap if it was legal or not.

Leaving the engine running, and turning down the radio, he twisted in his seat and stared at Parker's profile.

"What the hell is your problem Parker?" It came out as a bark, but he was beyond trying to keep his cool.

She stayed mute, but her eyes betrayed her as she glanced at the cell in her lap. Right. Guilt. Well he couldn't let that stand since they had to work together after this, and this shit needed to be dealt with.

"You gonna give me the silent treatment all weekend? Grow the hell up Parker. Quit the stricken kitten act, it's pissing me off."

"Eliot, just drive. I don't want to talk or fight or piss you off." She refused to face him, and her voice was small and tired and so very unlike Parker that he felt his chest prickle uncomfortably.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"For a thief you suck at lying darlin'. What. Is. Wrong." Rapidly losing patience, Eliot managed to restrain the impulse to snatch her cell as she span it in her hands and throw it from the window. Apparently her crazy was catching. But his concern was real. He'd rather her mad than sad. Mad he could handle.

"Rule Three Eliot." She actually gave him the finger. Woah. Maybe she was mad after all. Words failed him for a second,and he ran his hand through his hair, flaring his nostrils as he tried to let the rage out slow and not in an explosion that would take the truck and half the highway with it. Her bizarre mood swing had him off kilter and he was not good when he was off kilter.

"Seriously? Well fine Parker, I'll make this easy for you. I'm gonna drive, and you are gonna get your act together and not ruin this day for me. Act like a fuckin' kid and I'll treat you like one sweetheart." Man he hadn't lost it so bad in a long time. As the anger drained and he saw Parker's face pale under his attack, he wanted to hit the steering wheel in frustration. He wasn't even clear on why he was so mad. Or why it was her fault. He twisted back to face the road, taking a minute before pulling back onto the highway. He didn't get as far as taking the truck out of neutral.

"You weren't treating me like a kid in the dressing room were you Eliot?" Parker's voice, cool but deadly made his head snap round. It was his turn to pale beneath his tan. She had him there. But he wasn't going down this route. He had fucked up, and wasn't going to repeat his mistake.

"So...what? This is punishment is it, the silent treatment? Get over yourself Parker. I don't recall you being holier than thou at the time darlin'. And don't worry, I won't be touching you again, so your freakin' virtue is safe and sound from me." Oh shit he was going too far but the words wouldn't stop and she was so poised and indifferent and cold, he wanted to shake the life back into her. Had he caused this? Of-course he had, overstepping boundaries that a grown man knew better to cross.

He wiped his face with both hands, wishing he could wipe away the words he'd spoken too but it was far too late for that. Grade A ass hole he decided. Maybe too much sleep was a bad thing after all.

"Oh, you really think my virtue was ever in danger?" Parker was warming up now, but not how he wanted, in entirely the wrong direction in fact, and he couldn't help notice how feisty she looked as she finally span about to face him. It shouldn't have been the time to notice just how gorgeous she was with the sun beating down through the windscreen, igniting her hair and her eyes. But damn him to hell he did. "I do what I want, not what anybody else wants. I decide. I'm no child Eliot, so stop acting like I am whenever it suits."

Well wasn't that a cold hard truth. But he wasn't done yet.

"This from the woman who hides behind her big kid act whenever she can't handle shit? Nu-uh Parker, the shoe fits sweetheart so deal with it. I told you before we had to back off. You wouldn't listen. Well now you will." Man he sounded like a condescending dick. He knew it, but figured what the hell. Better to be the arrogant son of a bitch she didn't like than the guy who fucked up her relationship.

"Well thanks Eliot, how heroic of you to save me from myself. I'm sure that's what your little show with my buttons was all about right? Teaching me to be careful of big bad wolves like you? Screw you and the freakin' horse you rode in on."

Eliot was furious and hot as hell for the blonde thief giving him back as good as he gave out. Man, she was glorious in temper, and he had never heard her so angry about something other than the job before. He was torn between concern and pride. His girl was a scrapper. Hardison's girl. God damn it. Hardison' girl. It was difficult to remember when she was so passionate and in his face.

"Yeah well, your boyfriend'll thank me for it." May as well add sexist insensitive ass to the list he figured, secretly wanting to hurt her for having a boyfriend and being so tempting at the same time. Because he was losing his mind and it was her fault.

"You weren't thinking about him when you were trailing your fingers up my back were you?" She made like a spider with her fingers in the air, her eyes mocking, but her expression fierce. And now they were at it Eliot thought, the guilt game. Sure she felt bad, but nothing had happened and nothing would. So ignoring him seemed futile. If he was any kind of man he would take it on the chin and apologise so they could move on. It had been an aberration on his part. A lapse in judgement. But he couldn't form the words, and in a stark moment of truth admitted why. He didn't want to move on. The realisation hit him full force and he stared at his hands on the wheel, where they gripped so hard his knuckles whitened. She was right. Screw him she was right.

"Parker I'm sorry." He choked the words out and glanced at her shocked expression, her surprise making him wince. She watched him closely, and he wished he couldn't see awareness in her gaze.

"I acted like an ass in the store. It won't happen again."

Only the radio filled the space his words left in their wake. It was a faint buzz since the volume was low, but a soothing melody could just about be heard. They sat for a few minutes, and Eliot could honestly say his heart had never beat such an erratic rhythm. Even the electric battery torture in Cambodia paled in comparison to this. He focused on his breathing and Parker's, and they synchronised as the seconds passed.

"I liked you in the store." She whispered it with a watery smile when he looked over. Oh man her eyes were filling and for a long moment he stared at her, and her confusion and distress stared back, and something else, something hopeful? No. He was imagining things to ease his own muddled sentiments. When he looked away, she carried on. "You bought my dress."

"It's a real pretty dress." So many words yet none that were suitable, or appropriate or his to say. Hardison was getting a hiding for doing this to them. Eliot felt the need to punish someone for his hollow gut and decided the hacker was it. If Parker was his, why wasn't she with him? Huh? Stupid stupid boy, not knowing what he had.

"Are you going to help me with the buttons when I put it back on?" Jesus, Parker was looking at him brazenly, and he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. What was she doing? After the silent treatment he got the come on? Or had the row simply fanned the flame they were both acknowledging now, however painfully?

"I don't think so Parker." She nodded, as if shaking the sexy off, and she pressed her lips together and widened her eyes as if stopping tears. The slight action was gone in an instant but it was enough to make him want to haul her across the gears and swallow her sadness whole by kissing her pink mouth till she forgot it could be used for anything else. Just kissing. A groan almost escaped. He needed to stop this now. "Look maybe you should call Hardison, I'm sure he's up and you can-"

"Were you thinking about kissing me just now Eliot?" She asked it like she asked anything, directly and with genuine curiosity and man it winded him. The blonde sure wielded a verbal sledgehammer when she wanted. She retied her hair as she waited for his reply, and he avoided watching her tee shirt rise to show off her slim stomach, or stretch across her chest as her arms raised to tighten the ponytail at the top of her head. Yet somehow he noticed anyway.

Coughing, he pulled the truck back onto the road at last, and wondered why she needed to know. It wasn't like her to toy with her prey. This was new and cruel and unusual. It was Sophie-esque.

Then her invitation and his knock back replayed in his mind and he figured she needed to know this wasn't just her. He wanted to lie. A lie would save a lot of awkwardness. But the tension was live anyway. It existed with or without the admission. And he was a lot of bad things, but a coward wasn't one of them. Staring straight ahead, the lush green foliage of the Interstates surrounds lost on him, Eliot sighed then replied.

"We both know the answer to that Parker. Calling the sky blue don't make it blue. It just is."

Then he turned up the radio and put his foot down. Taylor Swift was singing Sparks Fly and man, if he didn't know better, he'd swear Parker was humming along. The lyrics she seemed most fond of made his palms sweat, but at least she wasn't silent any more.

With only an hour to go before they arrived, he hoped they could get through the damn day without killing each other. His pulse tattooed as her dress and its buttons popped into his mind.

Or worse.