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Not sure when the ending will be posted-shattered and R/L stuff to do. I know right?

Parker walked into Nate's apartment with a bounce. Eliot had dropped her off at her place earlier after showering at his, to get fresh clothes and they hadn't said much other than see you later. It was weird but she missed him already. He had been her constant companion for such an intense period that she felt naked when she looked to her left and didn't see his profile as she had for most of the return journey.

Her back was aching like a mother now, the muscles protesting as they did a few days after a knock but she felt limber and satisfied and full of energy for whatever new job Nate had lined up.

Hardison was sat in the middle of the sofa facing the screen, and Sophie was making tea in the kitchen when she walked in and stupidly, her heart dropped when Eliot's familiar form wasn't sat in his chair. She had assumed he would be there already. A cold hand fisted about her lungs as the possibility of him already being called by Scarlet occurred to her. Oh. Since she had just spent the weekend with him fishing, even Parker realised that asking where he was immediately on entering would be suspicious. But she really wanted to. The question bubbled up her throat.

"Hey guys." Nonchalant. She slouched as she greeted them. Be cool. She could do that. Sophie looked at her, taking in her plaited hair and lilac vee neck tee shirt and black jeans with the suede boots she had bought in Morgantown. Well, Eliot had bought. Sophie took a sip of tea and raised a slim eyebrow.

"Blimey Parker if that's what fishing does for you I'm buying a rod!" Parker smiled with narrow eyes. Sophie shsuh, she mentally silenced the older woman and sat on the chair Eliot should be in.

Hardison glanced over, warily, and they both looked at each other in silence before both trying to speak at once.

"So did you catch much?"

"Did you Horde good?"

An awkward moment of chuckling followed, and then the hacker patted the sofa cushion next to him.

"Get your ass over here woman." She did and he hugged her, kissing her forehead and letting her go. Parker knew they were okay. It had been a concern she had tried to avoid thinking about all morning, but now she knew, she felt lighter.

"Sophie's right mama all that fresh air looks good on you." His expression was as subtle as a brick as he inclined his head, his scarf all but obscuring half his face as he waggled his brows at her. Parker wondered how people would make these faces at her with their eyebrows shaved off then ignored the image it created. Weird. She looked back at him blankly, and shrugged, Eliot's words about Hardison's pride ringing in her ears.

"It was okay. Where's Nate?" Not quite the verbal ninja now she thought sourly, but stuck with it.

"Nate and Eliot are meeting a new client this morning. Didn't y'all get my text?" Parker and Sophie both shook their heads, not all that bothered. Hardison rolled his eyes in his familiar under appreciated manner and carried on."We didn't need to be here this morning, figured I'd holler at my girls, giv'em a little extra R & R, y'know eke out the weekend an'-"

"I think my phone died while I was away." Parker looked at her cell and realised it was dead. She couldn't remember charging it and had a vague memory of Eliot saying he couldn't take a snap of her pretending to steal a police horse in Central Park for some reason. Huh. Now she knew.

"Ya think it died? Parker my special special Parker," Hardison joined his hands in a steeple and pressed his lips with his fingers as he did when trying not to freak out. "We don't think our phones die. We live in the age of communication Parker, I need y'all to respect the shit I can do with these cells all right? I can find you on the moon baby, but not if y'all don't play your part, and charge the dang thing up."

She looked up at him, waving the dead cell with a shrug that said, okay? He gave her a quick hug and nodded, taking the abused object from her hand.

"Imma fix this no problem." She shrugged and joined Sophie in the kitchen, grabbing cereal from the cupboard.

"So who's the client?" she hopped on the counter, legs swinging. Sophie eyed her boots.

"Sorry?" Sophie picked up one of her swinging feet to study the black suede boot covering it.

"Who's the client." She repeated it slower. "Why haven't you gone? Nate always takes you."

"Oh. Right. Well, the client couldn't come here because of the bloody swines threatening to knee cap him if he tried to get help, bloody arseholes I tell you, I hope I get my gangland bitch on for this one those fellas won't know-"

"Loan sharks?" Parker stilled, the thought of Eliot getting jumped not at all pleasant.

"Worse, suits. Poor bloke is a whistle blower over environmental waste issues at his company." Sophie sipped her tea, and watched her take this in. "You all right lovely? You've gone a bit pale."

"Isn't this a police case? Why isn't the guy in protective custody?"

"As far as I know, corrupt cops are on the payroll. He is a paranoid mess poor lamb. Kind of muddies the waters for conventional justice. Nate'll sort it. Bloody hate these jobs though. Not at all glamorous. But you know Nate..."

Yeah. Parker did. It made her fidget. Getting involved in this kind of job never ended well, but these jobs were what Nate called their civic duty. She hated the idea of Eliot having to fend off the inevitable goons involved on the companies behalf.

"So where are they meeting?" Parker wondered if she could maybe follow just to make sure...

"Nate didn't say." Right. Jeez what was up with her? Like Eliot wouldn't freak out if she popped up behind a wall all, hey I'm here to help. She shook the stupidity away.

"Yo Parker your cell is charged up." Hardison tossed her the phone and she caught it.

"So we just have to wait?" She munched on more cereal. Sophie nodded. Hardison shrugged.

And Eliot was god knew where. Boston was living up to the sucky hype after all.

"Hey Hardison?"

The hacker looked at her, big eyes and a big heart.

"Will you show me something?"

/

Eliot let himself into his apartment gingerly, head pounding as he winced when the door swung shut behind him. Man he could really do with a little less confrontation to start his week. It was only 5 at night on a Monday, hours into this thing and the job already had him busted up. The company their client worked for were serious as a fucking heart attack about him not getting help. Nate had managed to get the guy and his family out of their house but only with Eliot acting as a human wall to the ex military ass wipes on their payroll. Fuck it hurt to be him sometimes.

A blonde streak tore out of the lounge and into his chest and he cursed out loud as Parker gripped his face in her small but firm hands. His black eye throbbed.

"Jesus Parker what the hell-"

"Do you have concussion? Do you want aspirin? I can hook you up with a dose of morphine if you need it I know a guy who knows a guy-"

"You know a morphine guy? You are never talking to him again I can tell you that-"

"Eliot you're a mess!" She was all but yelling at him. He winced, head shrieking.

"Easy on the volume darlin'. What are you doin' here anyway?"

"What? I-well, Nate called and said he was settling the client in a safe house and we'd be on in the morning."

"And? Not really in a gettin' my freak on mood Parker." He didn't want to bark, but man he felt like crap and having Parker see him like this so soon after having her look at him like Superman smashed his pride to pieces. He did not want her to see him as weak. Being considered a dick was easier to live with.

"Oh shut up Eliot." Parker kissed him and his bust lip stung but her lips were soft and he couldn't help but kiss her back, carefully, but with definite intent. Even broke up he wanted her. His body seemingly refusing to let a few cracked ribs or bruised thighs get in its way.

"Parker honey I gotta get myself fixed up." He ended the kiss reluctantly, and she nodded, taking the hand not currently holding his ribs together with a hope and a prayer.

"I ran you a bath already and made you a sandwich."

"You made me a sandwich?" He let her lead him, dazed and foggy. Sleep. That'd fix him.

"Yeah. I can cook if I have to you know." She sounded huffily wounded at his surprise.

He was gonna say something smart about making sandwich's not being cooking but he couldn't find the energy to be pernickity, knowing what she meant. Parker had ran him a bath and made him a sandwich. Huh.

"I got your first aid kit too, 'cos Nate mentioned you had a run in with the enemy." Her voice got chilly. "He should really reconsider his tone when he mentions things like that you know, far too casual. Flippant almost. I'll be talking to him abo-"

"Uh, honey, remember our talk about keeping this between us?"

"Oh that's not happening now." She sat him down on the bed and took his shoes off, and he watched her through half closed eyes. Parker was kneeling on his carpet talking his boots off. Maybe he was concussed after all. Shit maybe he was unconscious.

"Is this a coma dream?" It was a frighteningly real possibility. In his line of work, injury came with the territory and there had been a lot of fucking guys on him. Maybe even a car at some point...

"No. Eliot did you know that if you were in the hospital I might not be allowed to see you? Did you know that? Because we aren't family or married? Well screw that. You better freakin' make sure you never get put in hospital Eliot." She was extremely fierce about this.

"Didn't know that Parker. I'll try. " Oh man she was talking real fast and in all honesty he was struggling to keep up. She was undoing his belt and he stopped her, fumbling to do it himself."I have done this before darlin'."

"And when it's been really bad?" Oh man she was pissed off, hands on hips and lips pursed in judgement. Her hair was crinkly curly.

"Hired a nurse." Parker snorted at that and shucked his jeans off after the belt got dispatched across the room.

"Yeah well she can go help morphine guy 'cos you won't be calling her any more." Eliot smiled though it hurt like hell.

"I am okay Parker. You don't have to do this."

"You say that again and I will give a matching black eye Eliot." She frowned and touched his thigh, the left was pretty messed up but it was superficial and an ice pack over night would ease the swelling. Strapping up his ribs was awkward but he could do it alone. Had done it alone too many times to count. Parker's hands on him were pretty comforting though.

"Wait, what did you mean by, that's not happening now?" He finally recalled what started this spiral and she stepped close, easing his tee shirt over his head and kissing his face as he swore through the pain.

"The whole secret thing. I changed my mind."

"About what exactly?" He felt his stomach plummet, even as his head told him to focus. She was still here wasn't she? Gruff bastard that he was.

"Being your girlfriend."

Definite coma dream. Which sucked because he was pretty sure in films you didn't feel so much fucking agony in coma's. Man alive he hurt.

"And we are telling the team. Because Nate really needs to be way more specific than "Oh yeah Eliot got into it with the company men while we made a break for it. We'll talk tomorrow."" Parker did a really good impression of Nate. Eliot cocked his head up at her, his hair falling in his eyes. She brushed it away.

"That's a good Nate."

"Thanks. Bath."

She helped him into the tub and he lay back with a hiss.

"Can I get you anything?" She hovered at the door and he watched her, watched the varying expressions chase across her face. She was looking after him. As the hot water seeped into his skin and his head cleared of some of the fog he finally processed her words and managed to piece some sense out of them. And man if he didn't feel like a complete ass as he realised exactly what was causing her blue eyes to cloud lavender as she waited. Ah. Pleasure defied the odds and swarmed up his spine, warming him in a way the hot water never could and hope sparked bright in his chest.

He cleared his throat, a little amazed at the swiftness of what was happening but grateful as fuck now he understood her presence and exactly what it meant. His Parker. He had never been so happy to be injured in his life if this had triggered whatever had changed Parker's mind.

"Well I heard a rumour that my girlfriend's made me a sandwich."

Oh man her face lit from within and she was beautiful as she smiled widely, and she just nodded in that way she did, on the balls of her feet as she tipped forward with her whole body and then vanished.

Don't mess this up Eliot. He was as content as he'd ever been as he succumbed to the soothing bath, knowing that whatever reasons he had given himself to keep quiet had dissolved in the face of Parker's honesty. He wasn't about to throw her actions tonight in the shredder. Fuck that.

The team could suck it up. His thief had made a choice and no way was he giving her cause to regret it.

/

Hardison took it well. Eliot cornered him in the morning, and was as direct as he could be without going into detail about the weekend and disrespecting the guy who he cared about a lot. He and Parker were giving it a shot. The hacker looked a little shocked, and a trace of the maybes crossed his eyes, but they were cool. It was a huge relief. The team dynamic mattered, and internal fighting would fracture them in a New York minute.

Sophie was wide eyed and curious, but Nate halted her instant stream of questions with a discreet pat on the back and that, enough face he did when he wanted the team to shut the hell up and let him finish.

Nate took him aside and they exchanged words. Mostly, hurt her and I'll kill you type words, and then practical talk about how he still needed him to be the hitter and Parker to be the thief and was that gonna be an issue? Eliot assured him it wouldn't. Probably a lie, but they'd deal. Nate didn't seem that surprised by the revelation, and shrugged when Eliot pressed him on it.

"You both used the same shampoo yesterday." Like that explained everything. And maybe it did.

Tuesday morning, after the declaration, Parker sat on the arm of his chair since his thighs were still strapped and he looped an arm about her waist as Hardison ran the information package and Nate outlined the plan. Parker had to plan a heist on the local police station's evidence lock up and H helped with scanning security from the van as she did re-con late and Eliot dosed up on pain killers to speed up his recovery, ribs creaking. He missed her in his bed.

Wednesday had Eliot running surveillance on the ground and Parker and H in the van, and Nate's plan, the Westchester Screw was in full swing. Parker and Hardison and Eliot argued over the comms about the name, H declaring it wasn't a screw but a Sting, Parker stating it was the Swizzle and Eliot telling them both to shut up, it was the Screw. The banter made him smile. That night, having been on the job late, Parker showed up afterwards and they made love like they hadn't seen each-other in weeks and his ribs didn't hurt at all when she rode him, and he kissed her fading bruises before they fell to sleep.

By Saturday the job was done, and Parker and Eliot left Nate's together, going for dinner before heading back to his place. His apartment was suddenly way more appealing than chillin' at Nate's after a job. Parker demonstrated her lifting technique from his inner jean pocket and an early night became a late night and then an early morning. He couldn't get enough of her. She vanished Sunday morning, but he let her be, taking the chance to train, now he was healing well. She arrived back mid morning and watched him on his mat, and his skin crackled under her gaze and when her hands smoothed over his naked back, and dipped below the waistband of his loose workout pants to cup his ass he abandoned his exercises in favour of picking her up and taking her to bed. It got sweatier than any mat workout. Best exercise ever he decided, as he pulled her head to his for a druggingly intimate kiss. Hell yeah.

They grocery shopped on Wednesday. She filled his kitchen with cereal and chocolate milk. He taught her how to make steak fajitas.

On Friday he got home and found a huge TV in his living room, and decided not to ask where it came from. They watched Animal Planet. She watered his vegetable patch and picked coriander and made an omelette. She said it tasted like summer and he had to agree. He liked her making a tip of his kitchen. He had no idea how she managed to use four pans, but the omelette was perfect so he just loaded up the sink and she dried as he washed.

The next job was a straight up grift, and Sophie relished it. Parker had Eliot keep his cop outfit on that night. Handcuffs got involved. Nate and Hardison got fed up with his huge fucking grin the next day but he couldn't give a shit. And considered investing in a sturdier bed. One with beams. Parker would dig that.

Their first fight was about a reckless jump she made during the next job. They had fought about stuff like that before and the team had weighed in with varying opinions. This time the team backed off and Nate ushered everyone else from his apartment. They returned to find Parker in Eliot's shirt and him in his long sleeved tee, his hair down rather than tied back and Parker sparkly eyed and pink mouthed. He dared them to comment, and they wisely refrained.

She had a nightmare on a Tuesday night, giving him a heart attack. Her trembling apologies broke his heart. He got dressed and drove her across town, and sat in his truck whilst she worked it from her system testing a new harness configuration. It took two and a half hours. She didn't say anything when she got back in the truck. Just kissed him. He held her tighter that night.

He used his contacts to try and track Scarlet, chasing down leads and running into dead ends. She covered her tracks good. He considered asking for help, then dismissed it. Exposing the team to her would only give the bitch more leverage. It was frustrating but he kept at it. Determined to get it done, old school way or not.

His apartment became littered with photographs of the weekend they didn't go fishin'. He felt full and at peace when he saw Parker and him staring at him from the mantelpiece and from his fridge door. She pinned their name cards on his pin-board.

He loved her.

They hadn't said it. Hadn't really said much of anything. Just cobbled a life together that worked, and that didn't cause tension at work, though Parker insisted on them having a fake couple cover in case she ever needed to visit him in hospital. It had really freaked her out that had. Parker and google did not mix well. She usually got outraged and had to eat extra cereal to get over the random shit she found out sometimes. He was touched and insulted by her insistence all at once. Touched she cared, and insulted she thought he couldn't handle himself well enough to keep out of hospital.

"Getting beaten up isn't the only way you could end up in hospital." She had looked at him the same way he looked at her sometimes. "You could be allergic to shellfish."

"I'm not."

"Bee stings."

"Nope."

"Have a heart attack."

"Gee thanks-"

"Get run over, suffer a brain aneurysm," she ticked them off an imaginary list with her fingers. "Bird flu, have a stroke, get attacked by a shark, spontaneously combust-"

"Got it Parker, I got it. Christ woman you're in a cheery freakin' mood." He hugged her and attempted to kiss her happy. She put her hands on his shoulders.

"It matters to me Eliot."

"Okay. I now pronounce us Mr & Mrs Smith for the purposes of defrauding the health care system into allowing hospital visiting rights in the event of my suffering an alligator attack. Happy?"

"Yeah." She kissed him, and that was that. Well, not entirely. They needed a wedding night after all.

Seven weeks after the wedding, the cell rang, waking Eliot from his sleep and he tiptoed from the room to answer it, feeling clammy and nauseous.

"Hello Scarlet."

/

Parker stretched, and kept on stretching in Eliot's new bed. Empty. Huh.

She looked at the digital display on the alarm clock. 3:37. She strained to hear, but he wasn't in the bathroom. An odd feeling of loneliness swept over her and she scrambled from the bed in one of his vests and wondered if he was watching TV. He wasn't.

He was gone. She stopped as glass sharp understanding dawned, and she sat on the sofa with a thud.

After everything, and getting so freakin' close...he was gone. Just vanished. His boots were gone, his cell. Jesus. Him. Eliot had left the fucking building. She felt sick. Then angry, then sad, furious, and terrified. Tears threatened as she gulped in deep breaths.

He hadn't even said goodbye.