Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Uhm, notes: Enjoy? Oh and I listened to Night of the Hunter by 30 Seconds to Mars whilst writing this. How cool is that band?

Reviews inspire make my writing monkeys dance. So please do and thanks! :)

Eliot showered in his en-suite and scrubbed himself raw beneath the hot water. He refused to allow the images of Parker in the bath that bombarded him any purchase. Easier said than done. The minx was a blonde imp sent to drive him mad. And he was a dirty son of a bitch for macking on his friends girlfriend. Totally out of order. But apparently unavoidable. His body responded to her like it hadn't known a woman before, and he resented the lack of control she managed to instil in him.

He was an idiot. He had seen this coming. Had known enough to put a lid on the snack sessions, but here they were. Well, here he was. Like a schmuck. He tipped his head and let the water run through his hair, his arm red and bright where he had stitched his wound. It looked as angry and fresh as he felt. Man he was acting like a horny teenager, and it was not acceptable for a myriad of reasons.

He was also pissed about it. Why was she here with him, driving him slowly out of his mind when she had a boyfriend? What the hell was wrong with Hardison anyhow? A freakin' convention as a destination choice when they had the first long weekend off since they started dating? Dumb ass. If it was Eliot, he wouldn't have spent it apart from her he knew that. He wouldn't have left the damn bedroom if at all possible. Parker was very athletic. And flexible. He had no doubt she would make sex as interesting as she made everything else. Oh man. He let his forehead hit the tile and slapped the wall. Enough already. His body was getting tight and his cock hard just thinking about her bendy ass tricks.

It was not fair. It was not fair to be so close and so far from something he wanted this bad. It sucked hard. He wanted to shake Parker and Hardison and tell them what they had was not right. How could it be when she looked at him with eyes so blue and full of very blue promises? Fuck. It was neither his business nor his place to intefere no matter the train wreck he saw coming. Parker needed more than friendship. She was full of electricity just straining to get out, and trying to adhere to convention messed her up. Yeah he teased her for it. Yeah he thought she was as crazy as a cat in drag but that was her. It made her who she was. And he liked her as she was. She made shit exciting, much to his chagrin. Man this road trip they had made more happen as a team than he could achieve in a month with planning.

Suck it the hell up Eliot. He stepped from the shower and looked in the mirror. He saw a human hammer. And had to admit that Parker did not need to be crushed by him. And he would crush her. He could play the sexual energy arcing between them, he could seduce her, and it would ruin everything. He couldn't do that. He wasn't a complete dick. Maybe she needed soft. Sweet. He wasn't those things and it was wrong to be mad as hell at her for making him wish otherwise. He was a man for chrissakes, not a boy. He would not lose it over sex. Not even sex with Parker. Even if he knew it would be explosive. Even if his heart whispered it would be a lot more than just sex. Oh man.

Today was about Cory and his future. Maria was a gorgeous girl and sure, Eliot had whooped Cory's ass for what they had done, but they loved each other, and were or had been, sensible kids. Cory had had to grow up a hell of a lot in a short space of time. He wasn't a kid and hadn't been from the moment he made the choice to be the man of the house and support his mom and sister. A choice that it wouldn't even have occurred to a lot of kids was theirs to make. Because they were just that. Kids. No bad thing. But Eliot understood the urge to protect. To take responsibility for those you loved. No matter what age, you were built that way or you weren't. It wasn't hard for Eliot to relate.

Giving Cory the line that he was involved in a trust designed to aid youths like him had been easy. Sometimes when you wanted help but didn't know where to ask for it, you trusted your gut and took it when offered. Cory had. And Eliot was glad. He was a good man. Fuck ups aside. But even those, Cory didn't shy from, not that he would have. Maria was the light inside him, and she was a tough little cookie, intent on finishing law school no matter the obstacles. Louise would help. she doted on her kids and loved Maria like her own.

Towelling off his hair as he walked into his bedroom, towel wrapped at his waist, Eliot pushed his own irresponsible thoughts away. Today was not the place, and never was the time to deal with that.

He would deal by ignoring it. He took the blows right? It's what he did.

Then he heard a cry from Parker's room, the back bedroom nearest the bathroom, and was running before he could catch breath.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair a wet streak down her front where she was trying to brush it out. She had bit her lip so hard she had drawn blood. And he could see why. Her towel was wrapped around her tight, and her shoulder blades were bare, but bruising was discolouring the skin exposed just where the towel began, and no doubt covered most of her back. Fuck. He should have taken her to an emergency room. She must be in a hell of a lot of pain.

"Sorry." She smiled brightly. "Had a cot."

"We should take you to hospital."

"Over a hair snag? Bit dramatic don't you think?" She was doing the brave thing, and it killed him. He tucked his damp hair behind his ears.

"I'm gonna get dressed and grab something for your back. Gimme a sec."

"Eliot?" He didn't want to turn around again, pretty sure the perv in him didn't give a crap about bruises, just how much slippery skin was on display. Which made him feel like a complete bastard. But his body wasn't thinking with his big brain, and the evidence was rising beneath his towel no matter how much he tried to talk it down. Shit.

"Just a minute Parker." He walked out of her room before embarrassing himself further. In his room he shucked off the towel and ignored the suit. He pulled on sweats instead and grabbed a jar of arnica gel from his medical kit in the en-suite. He stood at his wardrobe to grab a fresh vest, and thought of Hardison. Thought of every reason he could summon to dampen the misplaced desire tearing up his gut.

"Eliot?" He all but dropped the gel and spun about to find Parker in his room. Damn she was quiet. Cat like. Half naked. Hurt. He willed his heart rate down.

"I was just comin' back, why didn't you wait?" He glared at her accusingly. She shrugged, looking too innocent in her towel and with her wet hair for the kind of things he wanted to do with her. Because he was a soulless swine.

"Eliot I wanted to talk to you about something." She sounded nervous. He ignored the warning bells in his brain, and the blue eyes pinning him a little too easy.

"Well we need to sort your back out so it'll have to wait." No way he could touch her whilst she was talking to him about her boyfriend, or whatever other secret Parker wanted his advice on. And she looked like a woman with a secret. Nope. Couldn't do it. A primal urge was building in him, and it would not bow to rules or propriety or the honour he tried to live by. It was scorching through him and it was getting harder to ignore the longer she looked at him, with hot eyes she probably wasn't even aware were eating him up.

"My back? It'll be fine. Oh, will it ruin the dress? I don't want to look like a car crash victim in it." She tried to look over her shoulder and struggled, her worries so beyond his understanding but so entirely Parker he had to smile grimly.

"Seriously? You worried about your dress? Parker you could have internal injuries for Gods sake, I think that's the priority here darlin'."

"I don't. I've had them before. My organs are cool. Maybe a few ribs bruised that's all." That's all? He was infuriated and stalked up to her, wanting to yell his lungs out till they bled. He was the hitter. She shouldn't fucking know what internal injuries felt like. Shouldn't be putting a brave face on her pain. That's what he did. He should be feeling it. Not her. Never her.

"Parker shut up. Right now. Just get on the bed and let me see how bad it is." She was wise and did as he asked, an eye roll in typical Parker fashion thrown in for good measure as she knelt on the duvet. Oh man, that towel was damp and tight. He grit his teeth and skimmed the edge at her back, and as gentle as he knew how, he tugged the fabric down to expose the extent of the injuries. A band of bruising was starting to blossom from below her shoulder blades and continued to the middle of her spine, and the towel sat loose in the small of her back. He refused to look down, well aware her ass was bare just inches from the skin on display. He unscrewed the lid, and applied gel to both hands.

"This might burn, but it'll help." She was mumbling, something about burning already, but he only had so much concentration in him, and it was taking all he had not to put his mouth on her tender skin and soothe her in the most explicit way he could imagine.

She flinched as his fingers pressed at her skin, and stroked the gel across the sweep of her spine, trying hard to push harder than necessary to apply the gel. He winced, feeling it to the bone.

"Sorry, I told you it-"

"No, no it's okay. I'm just not used to-never mind." She had slipped her hair over her shoulder and he was back in the store, in the dressing room, and the electricity arced beneath his fingers, thrumming through his wrists right down to his elbows. He heard her breathe sharp, and wished he could be softer. But that wasn't him. And he was really fucking trying to be soft, even if one treacherous part of his anatomy had alternate ideas. Her skin was alabaster pale, making the discoloured areas stand out in stark relief. Man she was a tough brat. A soldier. It made his stomach twist. He smoothed the gel as quickly as he could, and got off the bed as if shot when done.

"That should help ease the ache and reduce any swelling but you'll need to reapply later." He was not doing it again. No freakin' way. The dip of her spine to just above her ass was imprinted in his mind, the slope of her back as it curved beneath his hands, the soft pale skin of her sides as she moved and he caught a glimpse as the towel gave way, almost too much for his head to take before it exploded. Enough. Even talking about aches and swelling was getting him hard for fucks sake.

"Thanks Eliot. It does feel better." She re-tightened the towel and got to her feet. Her bare feet. Damn she was so damn naked under that towel, his chest was pumping and he was suddenly aware that she was staring at his navel. Her eyes dipping below and to his...

"Parker." He coughed. She looked up and met his eyes, a little blearily. Had he hurt her more than she let on? Probably, she was a stubborn little thing. He felt like a meat head. Indelicate and rough.

"Remember when we didn't rob Tiffany's Eliot?" He hadn't expected that. Or her to step closer, as if about to share a shattering truth.

"I remember. Good times." He grinned, and eyed the wardrobe. He really needed to put on a shirt to hide the growing discomfort in his pants. Maybe she wouldn't notice. He began to sidle his way from her focus, but she tracked him, stepping closer. Oh Parker do not do this, it is not you. He didn't want her to be that girl. Even as he fought being that guy. Hypocrite. And secretly, he wanted her to be as screwed up as him about this. Because he was an ass hole.

"Why didn't you ask about the kiss?" Oh shit. He was frozen then, and she was right up in his face, puzzled but determined. Like it mattered a great deal. Her eyes were blue, her lips pink and skin fresh and clean and smooth as ice cream. He licked his lips then stopped, as she noted the act, and twiddled a strand of hair with narrowed eyes on him. Time to be the cold shower. Time for a cold shower.

"Parker seriously this is not gonna fly. Hardison-"

"Is my best friend. My BFF. We talked about it earlier. So?"

"Wait what?" Eliot felt the roar thunder from his gut, through his heart and into his mouth. "You and H broke up?" When the fuck had that happened? Why? And did he care? His body was practically celebrating the news even as he tried to convince himself it made no difference. Not really. Not at all. Of-course not. Stupid to think otherwise.

"Turns out we hadn't actually been dating. I think. It's weird. But okay. That kiss?" Parker said it matter of factly, but he heard the sadness there, the underlying doubts she always had about herself. It pissed him off. She was strong in so many ways, independent and fearless, but sometimes her insecurities drove him mad. She had no cause to be insecure about anything. That the botched misguided attempt at dating Hardison had caused an inkling of damage to her self esteem made him furious, and he wasn't even sure why.

"What about the kiss Parker?" He growled it, his mind churning with a million thoughts.

"Why didn't you mention it?" She was even closer and he could smell the scent of her shampoo and whatever had scented her bath, it was sweet and heady and he struggled to focus.

"I didn't think it was a big deal. You were happy with the jump. And with Hardison what was I supposed to freakin' say Parker? I was trying to be discreet." His heart was thudding and he could hear hers. This was not a good idea. She was vulnerable and hurt and looking for reassurance about her femininity and he was not the right guy to give it. Not without lasting repercussions anyhow.

"Well no need for discretion now. So spill. I need to know Eliot. I need to know if I can be normal. Because I got it wrong and now I don't understand why I feel so weird with you and whether that's what it should be or if that's wrong too and-" She was fierce and direct and honest and it broke his heart to hear her so lost.

He kissed her. How the hell could he not? He cupped her face and found her lips with his and she froze for a fraction of a second before her mouth yielded to the pressure and she kissed him back, her rough towel pressing at his chest as she wrapped her arms about his neck. Oh man she was soft and delicious and when he let his tongue slip over her lips she opened up easy, moaning as she let him in. Eliot held her head in his hands and kissed her till they both gasped for air, his tongue in her mouth and her teeth nipping his lips and her fingers pushing through his hair. He was hard and she was sleek, her breasts rubbing at his chest and her noises, man her hot little noises had him ready to throw her down on the bed and-

Her bruises. Her sadness. Her confusion. With effort he dragged his mouth from hers even as her hands tugged him back and her teeth clung to his bottom lip. So fucking hot. So Parker. So wild. But so damn unsure about everything.

"Parker this isn't, I mean, we can't-"

"Did I do it wrong? Maybe I need practice." She reached up and kissed him soundly and he felt his knees go, and realised with some shock that she was as dangerous as any Triad gang or Russian mobster. With them he always found his balance. With Parker, he wasn't entirely sure he could.

"Darlin' you do it just right. More than right. Fuck, you do it perfectly," he groaned as he held her shoulders, and hated his sorry ass as she looked up at him, mouth swollen and cheeks flushed. That towel was a red flag to his bull and he had to gain control over this.

"I don't get it." Parker sounded as baffled as he felt, and he kissed her quick, but her lips were sleek and inviting and his tongue slid in to meet hers and they were kissing like it was the law and he pulled back. Panting. Actually panting. What the hell was he doing?

"Parker I think-"

The door bell rang and they both turned with hunter swiftness at the glaring intrusion.

"Saved by the bell huh?" Parker smiled at him, passion hazed blue eyes so big he could fall in and drown in them, and he frowned. She skipped from his hands that were holding her shoulders and vanished.

"Guess I'll get the door then!" He called, pissed off, frustrated and not at all happy with how his body was humming, and glanced at the clock on his dresser. Florence had set them again, and he swore. Only he and Parker could make the eighteen hour drive, get here on time and still be late. He grabbed a tee shirt and for the first time he could recall, owned up to stomping.

It was a definite stomp that got him to the door.

Scarlet Woodeaves was on the doorstep.

Christ this wedding was becoming harder to survive intact than a Chinese gaol.