Author's Note: I know that it seems this story has lost the con . . . it hasn't! I promise! They just haven't thought of a new one yet! But it is coming soon.

Chapter 8: Conversations with Womenfolk

"Where is Elliot?" No one else had asked and Sophie felt that it was time. "He's been gone all night." It was nine o'clock on Monday morning and Elliot hadn't been seen since six o'clock Sunday night. The team had made plans to meet and discuss where the con would progress from here. Now they were missing a hitter.

"It's fine Sophie," Nate assured her, "he's . . . working off stress."

Hardison scoffed, seeing Elliot "working off stress" on some unsuspecting inanimate object . . .or animate: poor Agent Booth. He almost felt sorry for him.

"I'm just worried about him, with Agent Booth around, what if he's in trouble, again?"

Elliot stirred his tea lazily as MaryLee continued her story. "Four years ago, shortly after," she looked up from her glass and ran her gaze over his body, "you know . . ."

Elliot scoffed and took a drink.

"Yeah, I'm sure you know . . ." she sighed and wiped an eye. Elliot felt a pang of guilt at being so ugly to her. "That guy on the news, Willy Carson?" He nodded. "He killed him, Elliot. My father did." Now the tears fell freely. "Elliot, I heard that you were arrested . . ." Her voice disappeared into sobs.

The hitter gulped and patted MaryLee's hand, handing her a tissue. "It's alright Darlin', he's not gonna hurt you none."

The girl seemed scared, far different from the shy/sexy Texas girl that Elliot had fallen in love with (okay, in lust with at least). As MaryLee began to cry harder, Elliot looked around, noting the attention they were getting. "Sweetheart," he squeezed her wrist reassuringly. When that didn't help, he got up and slid next to her in the booth, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Babe, I won't let nothin' happen to you."

Her hair smelled like coconuts.

Booth drummed his fingers on the arm rest of the plane's seat impatiently. Next to him, Bones dosed. As he leaned his chair back he was appreciative that she had offered to buy his plane ticket this time so that they were both in first class. While asleep (and awake, but Booth wouldn't let himself think that just yet) she really was beautiful: how the corner of her lips just turned down, slightly open enough to let puffs of air escape. Her eyes weren't even doing that creepy back-and-forth thing that sleeping eyes did. (Yes, that was because she hadn't hit REM sleep yet, and he knew that, but he still loved it.) "Good night, Bones." Booth breathed and fell asleep.

"Honey, I'm home," Elliot allowed the door to slam behind him. He didn't like having to leave MaryLee at the diner, but, after paying for his tea and her pie (which, while his arm was around her, they shared) she insisted that he go back to the hotel where he would be safe. Elliot hated doing what was safe, but he had reluctantly agreed. Only Parker was in the room. It was two o'clock.

"They left a few hours ago," Parker told him. It was slightly eerie how she just sat there, facing the door like she had known he was coming in.

"Parker, how did you –" In his confusion he was pointing at the door, which finished the question for Parker.

"I didn't," she shrugged, turning to the TV, "I was just seeing if I could pick that lock with my mind."

Author's Note: Sorry this is so short, I wanted to show the conversation . . . and then couldn't go from there . . . BUT! Fear not! The next chapter is written and will be posted soon!