Chapter 2

Hardison had gotten them a car. A real, honest-to-god rally car. Eliot circled the bright blue, seriously souped-up Subaru Impreza and eyed it with approval. Yeah. This was a great car.

Parker apparently thought so too, because she was now cooing to 'Bertha', as she'd named it, from the driver's seat.

"Who's a good car? Aren't you? Yes, you are, what a pretty car…" she patted the dashboard and stroked the steering wheel. Eliot dropped into the passenger seat, noting the serious bolstering with approval, and eyed the little blonde.

"Such a nice, such a fast car," she kept cooing, hands smoothing now up and down the stick shift. Eliot watched her for a moment, before he realized what he was doing. He cleared his throat. Bad thoughts. Very bad.

"Alright, darlin', let's give this a shot," he said. He peered through the windshield. "Hardison said this was the only track that was closed today, so show me what you've got while no one's watching."

Parker gave a final pat to the dash. "Buckle up, Sparky," she said, strapping herself in and pulling on the helmet that she'd tossed delightedly in the back seat. Eliot reached around and did the same. No way was he riding with Parker if there wasn't proper safety equipment, he didn't care HOW good a driver she claimed to be.

Parker turned the key, and sighed in delight at the sound of the engine. "I can't wait until the turbo kicks in," she said with a breathy sound. Eliot tightened his seatbelt. Apparently this car was really pleasing Parker, and it was all just a little bit… dirty sounding.

She pulled the car out onto the track and came to an idling stop. "You ready, Eliot?" she said as she built up the revs, looking over at him, eyes sparkling and massive grin on her face. She looked like a woman about to open one helluva present, he thought. Most women, they got that way over something in a box with a pretty ribbon. Parker, it was a car. Well, hell with it.

"Yeah, let 'er rip," he said, and grinned back. And then bit back a yelp and just hung on.

Parker let her foot slip and they were off like a shot, tires spinning and dirt flying. Hell! They really were flying. Eliot couldn't see the speedometer, but that first turn was coming up awfully fast… and then they were sliding around, drifting through the corner and taking off again. A small hill, they were airborne. Another bend, then a series of curves…

They'd been driving hell-for-leather for a good five minutes before Eliot realized he felt good. Well, he was being slung around a course at high speeds with a crazy woman behind the wheel, but setting that aside, he felt good. Parker was shifting and clutching and powering through this course like she'd been doing it all her life. He risked a glance over at the skinny little thief in the driver's seat, and had to grin. Her eyes were narrowed, jaw set, nostrils flared, and her focus was absolute. And he could almost hear the mental "Wheeee!" going on in her head.

They tore through the course, up, down, around and through. And finally Parker pulled up short into a handbrake turn at the finish, sliding to a stop nearly exactly where they'd started from.

She pulled her helmet off and looked at him. "Well?" she said, and grinned. A big, crazy, massive, beaming grin.

Eliot couldn't resist. He grinned right back. "Yeah, darlin', you sure as hell can drive," he said. "I'd say you've got this part of the con covered."

Something bubbled and lit in Parker's eyes that he didn't recognize, but that warmed him. It made him vaguely uncomfortable, and he pushed it to the side. "You want a turn?" she offered.

Eliot smirked, ignoring that odd feeling he'd had. "Hell, yeah," he said. "Move it."

Nate and Sophie and Hardison were waiting for them when they walked back into the office. Well, Parker kind of skipped, and Eliot stomped. So sue him.

"So?" Sophie started before Parker interrupted.

"I'm hungry," Parker declared, tossing her helmet in the direction of the couch and perhaps not-so-accidentally catching Hardison in the gut.

"Hey!" he protested as she made a beeline for the kitchen.

Eliot followed her in, a little more morosely. He dropped down in a chair, setting his own helmet on the floor next to him. "So?" Sophie repeated again, directing her attention his way. Nate was eyeing him too.

He shrugged and grunted. "Yeah, she can drive."

"I beat you!" drifted from the kitchen.

He scowled. "Okay, she can drive really well," he grumbled. No man liked getting beat. Especially by a woman half his size. And he'd given it a couple of damn good tries.

"So she's really good?" Hardison asked, still apparently surprised.

"Well, if you think about it, I suppose it makes sense," Nate said, dropping down to the couch to sit. "After all, driving is about control, both mental and physical. Understanding your tools and making minute adjustments on the fly."

Sophie smiled, looking over her shoulder. "That sounds a great deal like breaking into a high-security vault."

Eliot nodded, somewhat absently, his own eyes drifting back to the kitchen. There were sounds of rummaging. That always made him edgy. Who'd have guessed that crazy little Parker had that kind of control? Yeah, ok, Nate was right, she had it for the job, but… it was kind of hot.

Eliot pulled himself to a mental stop. Jesus, what was it with him today? Woman gets behind the wheel, hands him his ass on four tires, and all of a sudden he's thinking bad thoughts?

He scowled and shoved himself out of his chair. "Parker, you better not have gotten into the cheese," he growled, stomping toward the kitchen. "That's for dinner tonight." Food, that would get his brain back where it needed to be, and off of this new side of his teammate.

Eliot lay in bed that night and studied the ceiling. The beams were dark and shadowed, and his body was loose and relaxed. He'd worked the heavy bag that evening, beating out a staccato rhythm that had him baffled in its urges. What was with him today?

Parker, he thought, and scowled again in the dark. Dammit. It came back to Parker. She'd gotten under his skin today, and not in the usual driving-me-not-so-slowly-to-do-physical-damage-to-someone-or-something way that she usually did. No, today it had been more of a sidle-under-his-radar sort of thing. Something about her exquisite control on the course today, her absolute focus and…

He huffed a breath, and turned on his side, punching his pillow into shape. Yeah. It was that narrowed look from the car, those blue eyes laser-like and so damn hot. An image of her stroking the stick shift slipped in again, and he muttered under his breath. Dammit. Parker was hot. His brain knew that, had always known that, but she'd always been off-limits. First, she was crazy. Eliot's life was crazy enough. He didn't do crazy in his women. Second, she was a teammate. You didn't piss where you drank. All kinds of horrible could happen there. Third, there was Hardison. The man had a crush on Parker that was bordering on pathetic. What kind of a friend would Eliot be if he got in the middle of that? Never mind that Parker still hadn't taken any kind of steps with Hardison… Eliot had been of the opinion for a while that Parker just didn't feel that way. Sure, she was clueless in a lot of ways about people, but Parker was also pretty damn smart in others. And she wasn't some inexperienced twit who couldn't recognize the signs staring her in the face.

No, he was pretty sure that if Parker and Hardison were going to happen, they'd have happened already. They were just too different, too far apart in experiences and understandings. The ice cave floated back into his mind, Parker's frustrated face wanting to take the body back down the mountain… he'd told her that they were alike, different from the others.

Eliot shifted again. This was crazy. It was time to put it out of his mind. Tomorrow they were leaving for Pennsylvania. There was a race happening next week, and they were going to get the con started. He needed to keep his head straight if he was going to have Parker's back on this one. He breathed deep and closed his eyes. Yeah. Right.