Disclaimer: See chapter 1.
Author's note: Eliot/Sophie was a last minute decision to add, but they just fit with this story. This chapter's a bit longer and the next ones won't be as long. But I could not cut it down. I just couldn't.
This chapter is dedicated to Against the Evening Sky whose much loved harassment caused me to post it sooner than I intended.
To Leverage3621 - see what you make me do? You get me all sad and then I end up with scenes like the one at the end of this chapter!
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Parker pushed open the door of the small chapel. 'Complete Marriage Package starting at only $49!' the blazing red sign out front read. She had to see the place she'd been married before she left the city. It was only 2 blocks away from their hotel.
She'd found the ring while packing, tucked into the pocket of the sweater she must have been wearing the night before. It was silver with a row of five small fake diamonds, a typical, if slightly fancy wedding band. It cost $20 at the chapel where they'd been married.
The place was small and cozy, gaudy and somehow charming, and the woman at the counter had smiled broadly, must have remembered her, because she asked if she had a great wedding night.
Parker didn't bother telling her she didn't remember it, and scanned the rings available for purchase. She already knew hers was fake but after surveying the selection she had to admit she probably got the best one.
"Did you not like the ring?" The woman asked with concern. "I remember your husband picking it out but you weren't here at the time. He said he had to buy the most beautiful one. He seemed disappointed we don't carry real ones here. We used to, but not anymore – been robbed too many times, you know?" Parker glanced up. She'd known Nate must have gotten the ring for her, but picturing him doing that was another matter entirely.
The woman went on. "I told him where the higher end jewelry stores were in the area but he said he didn't have time to go there. Don't worry, honey, I could tell he only wanted the best for you. I'm sure he'll trade in the one he got you for a better one." The woman smiled reassuringly as Parker forced herself to breathe past the constriction in her throat.
She knew she'd never have someone truly feel such sentiment for her – not without the aid of intoxicants, anyhow.
"No, the one he got me is fine," she said quietly before entering the empty chapel. No weddings going on at the moment. She stood in the spot she must have the night before and shut her eyes.
Excitement, and terror – the knowledge they were doing something crazy and not caring either way. And laughter. More laughter than she could remember in a long time. Was it a portion of her memory, or was it a dream?
It disturbed her so much that she abruptly left the building, ignoring the well wishes the woman called after her as she left. She fingered the ring she had kept with her even after she changed clothes, now placed securely in the pocket of her khakis. She had intended to leave it behind, throw it in her suitcase or something, before she left, but then she hadn't. She had some sort of irrational fear someone could come into her room while she was out and steal it. Ridiculous, of course. Who would steal a $20 ring? And why would she care if they did?
The woman from the chapel didn't know. And Nate would certainly never know – as long as she had her way.
No one had ever cared enough to buy her anything of meaning before.
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Nate thanked whatever God was listening that the woman next to him on the plane was currently sleeping. Parker was a bad passenger on her best days, and it had taken her so long to fall asleep on this flight that he hoped she would be able to sleep for the rest of it.
It was not, he thought adamantly, because he didn't want to deal with her. Not at all.
Except he couldn't get it out of his head. This morning. Waking up to discover there was someone sleeping peacefully next to him. Not just anyone, but Parker.
The guilt, he couldn't get away from it. If he forgot for even a moment what had happened, the guilt inevitably came back seconds later, reminding him of what he'd done. He'd taken advantage of her. The one person on their team who he, for some reason, felt responsible for. Protective of, even.
The hell of it was, he knew she trusted him. At least before last night. And now he knew she never would again.
It wasn't an option, he had to make this better. He had to fix it. They could get an annulment and move past it but he feared it wouldn't be enough. What if she decided she wanted to move on? What if she came to the conclusion it wasn't worth it to stay with their team?
The fact was she would be perfectly fine on her own. Or she could easily join up with anyone else who was looking for a talented thief. She could disappear tomorrow and ensure no one ever found her, not even Hardison.
The thought terrified him more than he could put into words.
Which was why he had to somehow remedy what had happened last night. He would do whatever she demanded in order to fix it, because the alternative – losing her – was something he would never allow.
He was about to open his laptop to try and distract himself when Hardison suddenly popped up from the seats in front of them, like some kind of half-crazed jack-in-the-box. "Hey guys! Whatcha up to?" He asked loudly.
Predictably, this woke Parker abruptly, as she shrieked and kicked Hardison's chair on instinct.
"This is one more reason for me to kill you," Nate said. "As if I didn't have enough from this trip already," he added, putting his laptop away. He had a feeling he wouldn't be getting any work done now, not between a bored Hardison and a miserable Parker.
"Glad to see you're both awake," Hardison ignored Nate's threat and opened a bag of pretzels. "Your wife doesn't look too happy, Nate."
"That's because you just woke her up!" Nate said harshly, pressing his hands to his temples. "Can we help you with something?" Nate asked, forcing his voice to become calmer. Hardison didn't answer, simply leaned over the back of his seat, looking back and forth between them.
Parker felt awful, but that couldn't be helped now that she was awake again. "I didn't know you were in first class, Hardison," she said suspiciously.
"Funny story about that, guys. Funny story. See, I went to upgrade my ticket because I figured I could get away from all of you. Little did I know that you all had first class tickets and I was in coach. Coach! What's that about?"
Eliot, who had booked their tickets and was seated across the aisle from Hardison, coughed. "Four first class and one coach was all they had left."
Hardison didn't believe it, though in Eliot's defense, he hadn't even tried to make the lie sound believable.
Hardison turned back to Nate and Parker. "And where do they put me?" He gestured wildly around, as pretzels flew through the air haphazardly. "In front of the newlyweds! And next to – whatever the hell they are!" He pointed accusingly across the aisle where Sophie and Eliot sat, obviously annoying him with their mere presence.
"We're not doing anything over here," Sophie said, sounding bored, as she flipped through her fashion magazine. Eliot looked like he was trying to sleep.
Parker didn't see what this had to do with her - at all. "Turn around," she said, kicking his seat again and causing him to nearly choke on a pretzel.
"Harassment! Emotional abuse, just the fact that I have to be around so many couples," he shuddered as if it were an evil word. "This was supposed to be my quiet, relaxing ride home."
"Once again, we are not bothering you. It is you who is bothering us," Nate said.
"Wait, who are you calling a couple?" Parker threatened.
"You have an issue with that, but not with me calling you his wife?" Hardison scratched his head, obviously confused.
"The wife part is technically true, but we are not a couple," Parker explained, though her logic was failing him.
"You're married. In the eyes of the U.S. government, you are a couple."
Parker gasped, as if he'd never said anything to her more insulting.
"You'll probably have to file a joint tax return," Hardison added, finding it quite entertaining how she got more furious with each word he said.
"I am not part of a couple!" Parker yelled, thinking no one was giving Hardison's horrific accusation the attention it deserved. She leaned forward to try and reach him (for what, she didn't know, a chokehold maybe), but he leaned away and out of her reach.
"Hardison!" Nate ordered, before Parker could start something that would cause an emergency landing and multiple subsequent arrests. "Leave us alone unless you want to switch seats with me."
"Yes, I'd love if you two switched seats," Parker said, her voice laced with violence.
"Uh, no thanks. I want to live through the whole flight," Hardison said, sitting back down.
Sophie glanced over. "Aw, poor Hardison. You can call us a couple if you want."
"He can what?" Eliot asked.
"It'll make him feel better," Sophie argued.
"Since when do I care about making Hardison feel better?" Eliot said, though he had no more arguments on the subject.
"It does not make me feel better," Hardison mumbled unhappily, then turned around again much to Parker's dismay. He reached down to take the bag of trail mix she was clearly not going to eat. More loudly he added, "I even tried to downgrade back to coach, but they refused, something about all the standby passengers they let on, and now the flight is completely full, except for this one empty seat next to me in first class. Then, I told them that I would happily ride in the baggage area. I'm trustworthy, you know, I'm not the type to go through things that aren't mine."
"No, just the type to find out secrets and then tell anyone you know who will listen," Parker said, aggravated.
"Right, but have I ever gone through your bags, Parker? Nope, never. But they won't let me fly down there, some nonsense about safety and how I could die. I told them that was a risk I was more than willing to take."
Hardison was distracted by the flight attendant who stopped next to Sophie and Eliot. "Here are your sundaes."
"Thank you, this is lovely!" Sophie said graciously.
"My favorite," Eliot added, as Hardison looked across the aisle with trepidation.
"I do love a nice hot fudge sundae. Don't you, Eliot?" She asked, though from her tone, one might imagine 'hot fudge sundae' was a euphemism for something else entirely.
Eliot nodded in total agreement. "You took the words right out of my mouth, Sophie."
"Nate!" Hardison said worriedly, leaning over the seats again. "Do you see this?"
"See what?" Nate asked, as he glanced over.
Sophie was staring right at Hardison as she slowly licked her spoon. "This is delicious. Want to try some, Hardison?"
"No, no I don't!" He shuddered. "Nate, see what they're doing?"
"It looks to me like they're enjoying dessert, Hardison," Parker said, secretly delighted at how much Eliot and Sophie were unnerving him.
"This just melts in your mouth," Eliot said, much too loudly to make any sense – unless he were trying to irritate Hardison, that is. "Hey, Sophie…know what else just melts in your mouth?"
Hardison scrambled out of his seat to kneel next to Nate's in the aisle. "You two gotta help me. Look at what I have to deal with – they can't keep their hands off each other!"
As everyone could see, Eliot and Sophie were only eating their sundaes. In fact, they had more room between them than they'd had during the entire flight. "Hardison," Nate said, "You're seeing things."
"Excuse me, Sir?" A well-dressed man stared down at where Hardison knelt in the aisle. "I'm going to have to ask you to retake your seat."
"I'm having a very important discussion here," Hardison said, dismissing him with a wave, and deciding to list all the grievous ways Eliot and Sophie were acting, as if that might prove his point to Nate. "For one, they're sitting together. Two, they were playing cards earlier – everyone knows that's just foreplay. Three –"
"Really?" Parker asked, wide-eyed, as the man standing over Hardison reached down and pulled him to his feet.
"I'm an air marshal, Sir. Take your seat, now. It is against airline procedure to block the aisle in such a dangerous manner."
Hardison quickly took his seat and tried to look as non-threatening as possible until the air marshal returned to his seat a few rows back. Parker leaned forward. "We played poker together last week!" She said, horrified. "Why didn't you tell me that it's –"
"It's not," Nate reassured her, as she collapsed back into her seat with relief. Hardison then leaned over the seat again. "For God's sake, Hardison, do you want to just sit in my lap for the rest of the flight?" Nate complained.
The flight attendant reappeared and held out a sundae to Hardison. "Courtesy of your friends," she nodded toward Eliot and Sophie who were watching with malicious enjoyment.
"Get away from me!" Hardison yelled, as the air marshal made a move to stand and Hardison quickly said, "I mean, I'm watching my caloric intake. No, thank you."
The attendant shrugged and left as Hardison leaned so far over the seats that Parker was afraid he might pitch forward and fall over them. "Do you see what they're doing to me?"
Parker smiled evilly. "I sure would love a sundae," she said sweetly. "But not in a bowl. Sophie was telling me earlier that they are best eaten from another surface, like…the human body?"
"I need headphones!" Hardison yelled, grabbing Nate's and sitting back down, before paging the flight attendant by hitting the button a dozen times in rapid, panicked succession.
The woman appeared, looking thoroughly exasperated at the fact that 90% of her requests today had come from this group of five people. "Can I help you?" She asked blandly.
"I need sleeping pills, or something. Anything so that I can forget the rest of this flight. Do you have Ambien? Valium? I'm begging you."
"Are you asking me to obtain government regulated drugs for you?" She asked, her voice getting higher with each word.
Hardison had the distinct feeling the air marshal was watching the exchange, and he quickly muttered. "No, I'm kidding. It…was a joke. Hey, you're quite lovely. Are you single, by any chance?"
The attendant walked away without answering and Hardison thought he might finally get to relax, until he looked over to his right. As if she were waiting for the very moment when he was watching (but that would be a paranoid thought, right?) Sophie leaned over and fed Eliot the cherry from the top of her sundae.
He whirled around again to look back at Nate and Parker. They weren't his first choice of distraction but they were the only thing he had left. "Nate," he said desperately. "How goes married life?"
"It goes wonderfully, Hardison. Especially after someone made it very clear that I am the last person on the planet she'd want to be married to," Nate said, somewhat bitterly.
Parker winced at that. It wasn't true, but what had he expected her to say? "Nate, are you still upset about what I said during breakfast?"
His only response was to look at her.
"That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry."
"Really?" He asked skeptically.
"Really," she swore. "About that elderly man and how he'd be a better husband because he could die at any time? That wasn't fair. You could also die at any time."
"What?" Nate had a feeling this wasn't going in any direction he would like.
"This is awesome," Hardison said, watching with enthusiasm.
"Any of us could die at any time! It was unfair to say the other man would probably die before you."
Nate wondered if Eliot would switch seats with him. "Eliot –"
"Not a chance in hell," Eliot called, reading his mind.
Parker had veered off to statistical odds of dying in plane crashes. "Come to think of it, we could all die today. We could be in a flying death trap, destined to crash over the Great Plains."
Hardison was no longer amused, in fact, he sounded stricken. "Parker!"
She happily ignored him. "They'd never identify our bodies, you know? Because there'd be nothing left to identify. Ashes…"
"Parker!" Hardison wheezed, apparently having trouble breathing.
"Yes?" She asked, in a tone Nate recognized as pretending to be innocent. She was setting the poor guy up; Parker always did love her revenge.
As if she'd planned it, the plane jerked from a mild bout of turbulence and Hardison dove back to sit the right way in his seat. "Oh God. I'm gonna die. We're all gonna die!
Eliot glanced across the aisle. "Are you crying?"
Parker leaned over the seat to hiss at Hardison, "Now we're even for you telling everyone about what you saw this morning."
Hardison was barely listening to her, though. "Sophie, oh dear God, Sophie get over here. I need the comforting touch of a woman."
Sophie looked over, a bit shocked at his suggestion. "Hardison, we're in public! I mean the classy thing to do is suggest we meet in the bathroom or –"
"That is wrong, Sophie, just wrong," Eliot cut her off, but she only smiled.
"That's not what I meant," Hardison unnecessarily clarified. "I'm going to die all alone here!"
"You're not going to die," Nate said firmly, turning to glare at Parker. "Look what you've done."
"He deserved it!" She said angrily.
"Fix this," he said, motioning for her to talk to Hardison.
She sighed, and told herself she was only doing this because she still cared about Hardison, despite how he'd been a bastard this morning. She was not doing this because Nate asked her to. Absolutely not.
She leaned over the seats in front of her to find Hardison clenching the armrests and reciting what sounded like the Lord's Prayer.
"Hardison," she said quietly, as he jumped and quickly leapt out of his seat, moving to the one next to it to try and get as far away from Parker as possible. Of course, that wasn't very far. "I was just joking around, Hardison. We're not going to die. This plane is perfectly safe."
She glanced back at Nate who nodded with encouragement. She thought desperately for something else to say.
"They say flying is safer than driving. Besides, if we were to crash, you wouldn't even feel it. The impact would be that quick. Well, emotionally you'd suffer in the thirty or so seconds where you knew you were going to die –"
"What?" Hardison yelled.
"Actually, most of the time don't you lose cabin pressure? In that case, you'd be unconscious long before we hit the –" She stopped when Nate pulled her back into the seat next to him.
"Okay, enough comforting. Thanks, Parker," Nate flagged down the flight attendant. "Can I have a scotch? No, make it three. No, better yet, keep them coming."
"Okay?" She asked warily.
"For him," Nate pointed to the seat in front of him where Hardison was fumbling with the phone, muttering about how he needed to remember his great-aunt's number to talk to her one last time.
"I see, right away, Sir." The flight attendant went to get the drinks and Parker took the opportunity of Nate's distraction to lean forward again.
"Hardison, pull yourself together. If it makes you feel any better, if you die, we're all going with you."
Hardison paused at that, then hung up the phone. "You know, you're right, Parker. If I go, you're all coming with me! That does make me feel better."
"Wait a minute, it doesn't make me feel better!" Eliot yelled. "I think I deserve a better way to go than with Hardison!"
"Oh, I'm not good enough to die with?" Hardison said, insulted.
"No, quite frankly, I should be going out in a blaze of glory," Eliot said.
"Hmm, Eliot, so you always thought you'd go out with what you Americans might call…a bang?" Sophie said grinning.
Eliot held up his drink to her, "Cheers to that!"
Hardison practically lunged at the flight attendant when she came back with the liquor, as he kept shooting Sophie and Eliot dirty looks. "We're going to die and all those two can think about is –"
"No one," Nate cut in loudly, in a voice that told them all to stop talking, "is dying! I don't want to hear another word about it."
Parker's eyes widened, impressed that he'd achieved silence – for the moment anyways. She slumped back into her own seat, as the flight attendant offered her a drink. "No, thanks, I don't feel well."
"Still? From this morning?" Nate asked concerned, and she nodded.
"I just feel sick, I'm going to try and sleep."
Nate grabbed a ginger ale from the attendant before she could move on and set it on Parker's tray.
"What's this? I said I don't want anything."
"It'll make you feel better," he said. At her puzzled glance, he added, "Didn't anyone give you ginger ale or soda when you were sick as a kid?"
She smiled and it was far too sad for his liking. "I was lucky if I got fed as a child. People didn't exactly rush to take care of me when I was sick. Luckily, I wasn't sick too often."
He felt such a fierce swell of rage at her words, that he didn't trust himself to say anything on the subject. Instead, he had to wait for a minute to calm himself and then explained, "The carbonation helps settle your stomach."
She sipped some. "Thanks."
"Smile!" Hardison yelled, as he leaned over the seats and took their picture.
Parker thought she might strangle him with his own shoelaces, but the air marshal was still only 5 seats back.
"I'm going to make a scrapbook to document this epic weekend," Hardison said, then made the mistake of taking Eliot and Sophie's picture as well. Eliot grabbed the camera so fast that Hardison complained he had rope burn from where the string had been around his wrist.
"Sit down and find something to occupy yourself," he ordered, ignoring Hardison's protests.
"Next time I'm taking the train, I don't care if it takes three days to go across country," Hardison swore.
Parker shifted around, sipping her drink and trying to get comfortable. This sometimes happened to her when she drank too much. She'd get better over the course of the morning, but then, later on, she'd feel ill again. It only happened when she drank a lot. As if she needed any more proof of that after what she'd done last night.
To her immense aggravation, Nate appeared to be suffering no more effects from last night, as he sat drinking his water and flipping through some papers Eliot had given him. She caught the logo on top and realized they were from the advertising firm they were looking into.
He must have sensed her staring at him because without even looking at her, he grabbed one of the blankets she had strewn around her and folded it up. She watched as he placed it on his lap and then held out his arm.
She thought about ignoring the obvious invitation, but she couldn't get comfortable, even though they were in first class and supposedly had plenty of room. She really did feel sick, and if she laid down for a few minutes maybe…oh to hell with it. She carefully laid down and then stretched out, allowing herself to relax, telling herself not to flinch when he put his arm back down to cover her waist (it's not always bad when people touch you, she would sometimes have to remind herself). And this really was more comfortable – provided Hardison didn't try to annoy them again.
Sometimes she swore he was able to read minds, because no sooner had she thought it than Hardison appeared over the top of the seats in front of them – for the 117th time this flight.
He surveyed the scene before him and opened his mouth, no doubt to make another sarcastic comment, but Nate held up his hand to stop him and then motioned for him to turn around. Parker couldn't see Nate's face, but she guessed it must have been quite fear inducing for Hardison, because he turned back around without another word.
Parker shut her eyes and found herself drifting between sleep and waking much more easily than she'd expected. She dimly heard Eliot come over to kneel next to Nate, showing him something on his laptop. Something about the convention they'd been at – she didn't really care.
From in front of them, Hardison said (she guessed to himself) with vehemence that it was suspect that the air marshal only cared when he blocked the aisle, but let Eliot do it for 20 minutes and the marshal didn't care at all.
Then a bit later, Sophie's laughter, as she asked Hardison if he wanted the candy bars she'd gotten with her meal that she wasn't going to eat. From Hardison's lack of response, Parker knew it was a peace offering that was quietly accepted.
She nearly jumped when she felt someone running their hand through her hair – no, not just someone, it had to be Nate because it sure as hell wasn't Eliot, and for Hardison to reach that far he would fall over the back of the seats. Nate was still talking to Eliot, and it hit her with such sudden force that she nearly wanted to cry – he was trying to make her feel better. And he didn't even realize it.
The last thought she had before she fell asleep was that she'd never felt safer before in her life. And that meant she was in a hell of a lot of trouble.
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TBC – I'm having so much fun with this story, I do think that this is my favorite of any I've written for N/P. As always, I love all thoughts.