Chapter 15

The lights were out, the living room was dark and silent. Nate and Hardison had gone to bed, Sophie had gone back to the hotel. Eliot had decided not to move Parker, to let her finish sleeping off the drug. He didn't want her to wake up, confused, while he was trying to get her into a hotel room. Easier to take care of her here.

So that left Eliot awake, listening to the silence of the house in the dark. It was something he did often, given how little he slept. The night… it was a good time for thinking. Brooding. Remembering. Right now, his head was full of scenes from the day, playing over and over again. What could he have done differently, what should he have seen? How had he missed the bartender? What about the shooting? How was the con going to end? What would Parker do when it was over?

That last one was what had him scowling and slumping in the armchair in the dark. He wasn't used to Parker not being there. Even on cons in the past, she'd popped up during the dark hours, usually at Nate's place, when everyone else was asleep. They'd watch movies, he'd work out, they'd do their own thing in silence. She was just… there. What if that changed when they got back? What if Parker was viewing this… whatever they were as something temporary, something just part of the con?

Eliot dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. Well, hell, what WAS this thing they were in? Given his level of anxiety over Parker tonight, he was pretty damn sure that he was in deeper than he'd realized. Yeah, he'd told Hardison that he'd never fuck with Parker's feelings, and he'd meant that. Even if all they'd ended up doing together was this one con… he'd have made sure that she was ok. Happy. Comfortable.

But he didn't want just this con together, Eliot thought. His eyes slid over to the dark open doorway of the downstairs bedroom where Parker lay. What he wanted was more. More nights of wrapping himself around her slim form, waking up with legs tangled. He wanted to make her dinner. And breakfast. He wanted to see if she could fit in the air ducts of his place, and he wanted to sit on his couch with her and watch movies. Naked. He wanted to have sex, lots of it, he thought with a smirk, and then shifted.

No, he blew out a breath. That last one wasn't right. He didn't just want to have sex. He wanted to make love to Parker. Sure, he also wanted crazy-flexible-thief-sex in lots of different rooms and on lots of different surfaces, but even more, he wanted Parker loose and warm and wearing nothing but skin in his bed with a whole night to savor her.

And there it was, he realized. Eliot looked again at Parker's door, before turning his eyes back to the ceiling. He wanted a relationship. Something he'd actively avoided for years, something that the last time he did it, left scars on him that he'd thought would never heal. Seems they had, however, because here he was, wondering how to get a crazy blonde to commit.

Eliot caught movement out of the corner of his eyes, and turned his head to see Parker standing in the dark doorway, looking sleepy and confused. "Eliot?" she asked, voice husky and rough with the remnants of sleep. "What happened?"

He held out a hand and beckoned with it, watching her movement across the room with a careful eye. Her normal silent grace was back, her face was sleepy but aware… he caught her hand with his and tugged, pulling her down into his lap and catching her chin with his free hand. He studied her eyes. Normal again.

Parker squirmed a little on his lap, tucking her legs up and curling against him. Eliot dropped his hand from her chin and wrapped both arms around her, tucking her head against his shoulder. He felt a long breath leave him as she settled down. Better. Much better.

"I don't remember leaving the bar," Parker said. "Why not?"

Eliot stroked his hand absently over her back, enjoying the feel of her against him. "Bartender was paid to dose your drink," he said quietly. "Darrien had him do it."

He felt Parker tense, and then relax. "I thought so," she muttered. Then, "Roofies?"

Eliot cocked his head and looked down at her. "Yeah," he said. "How'd you know?"

Parker gave a little shrug, not looking at him. "I've encountered them before," she said. And didn't say anything else. Eliot felt his arms tighten involuntarily. Dammit. He'd known Parker had a rough past, but… he breathed in slowly. Deliberately. He had her now, and he'd kept her safe. Mostly.

"You stopped him," Parker said, cheek pressed against him. He felt one hand stroke his chest, right over his heart. Then, "Did you kill him?"

Eliot shook his head. Parker was quiet. "I bet he wishes you had," she said and Eliot was surprised into a quick rumble of laughter. For all they sometimes treated Parker like a five year old, she was a damn smart woman. She'd seen and done a lot, amazing and terrible and life-changing things. He'd do well to remember that in the future.

Parker yawned. "Are we staying here or going back to the hotel?" she asked, fingers still stroking over his heart. Eliot brought a hand up to cover hers, lacing those long, slender digits with his own. "I want to go back to the hotel," she said.

Eliot couldn't help himself. He lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips to her fingers. "Then we'll go back to the hotel," he told her softly. Parker tipped her head up to look at him, and smiled. She didn't have to stretch far, he met her halfway for a long, slow, tender kiss. She was still smiling when he finally drew back. "Come on," he said in a low growl.

They were halfway out the door when Eliot looked back and saw Nate sitting at the top of the staircase. How long he'd been there, Eliot didn't know. Nate met his gaze in the dark and nodded, and Eliot nodded back before following Parker out to the car.

They were quiet on the drive back to the hotel, Parker curled into the passenger seat, still loosely holding Eliot's hand. Eliot would periodically glance at her to find her eyes, gleaming and half-closed in the dark, on him. He'd feel unnerved by her watching him, except… he wasn't. He'd sat and watched her while she'd slept for a while as well. Some part of him understood wanting to keep your eyes on a person who mattered.

When they got to the hotel, Parker rather reluctantly let him go when he parked the car. As soon as the engine was off, she was climbing out and was waiting for him. She reached for his hand again as they started inside, but he wrapped an arm around her shoulders instead, pulling her into his side. He felt Parker give a little sigh, and her arm slipped around his waist, fingers sliding under the hem of his shirt to rest against the bare skin at his waist. Eliot pressed a kiss to the side of her head as they stood in the elevator and watched the numbers climb.

Then they were standing at his room, and Parker's fingers were sliding his keycard out. Eliot let her unlock the door and they stepped into the dark room. Eliot's eyes slid around the room, a little hyperaware after the evening they'd had, before relaxing.

Parker turned into him and slid both arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. Eliot hugged her against him. "Eliot?" her muffled voice said softly.

"Yeah, darlin'," he answered.

"Can we do it differently again?" she asked. He felt his chest warm and swell and his throat tightened. Yeah. He was keeping this woman, somehow.

"Always," he said softly, leaning his head down to nudge her nose with his. Their lips met in a slow, tender kiss. He took his time, tasted and savored her, here, safe and mostly whole. Parker slid her fingers up until they were touching his face, then stroking lightly through his hair.

Somehow, still kissing, they ended up on the bed. Eliot could have kept kissing Parker forever. He just didn't have the urge to rush. But her fingers were wandering, ever so gently tracing over his face and ears, his neck and shoulders. They slipped down his chest and slid under the hem of his t-shirt to lay against his sides.

Then those clever fingers were pressing lightly against him, and Eliot let himself be guided down onto the bed as he lay back and Parker leaned over him. Their lips parted, and Parker sat back on her heels. Eliot watched her, curious what she would do next. Parker reached down, and pulled her shirt over her head, wincing a little as her ribs must have twinged. Then she was shimmying out of her pants, and all that pale skin gleamed in the night.

Then Parker leaned over him and kissed him again. Slow, warm, deep… these kisses were addictive. Eliot meant it when he'd thought he could have kissed her forever. Lips and tongues tangling and tasting.

Her fingers were sliding again, slipping his shirt off, unfastening his jeans and skimming them off his hips and down his legs and off. Then they were both naked in the dark, and Parker was sitting back on her heels again.

Eliot felt the glance of her eyes sliding over his skin as surely as he had her fingers. He was a fairly confident man, not really a vain one, but this might be the first time he'd been truly glad for the physical demands of his job. Because Parker's eyes and face were watching him, and if his body was putting that look on her face… So worth it.

Parker reached out again, and started tracing paths over his skin: his feet, his ankles. She caressed the length of his calves, stroked his knees. She brushed over his thighs and up to his hips, avoiding for the moment his groin. He had a full erection, hard and ready for attention, but Parker was concentrating on the rest of him right now.

Her nimble fingers moved on to his lower belly, tracing and dipping into the ridges of muscle there and making them contract. They slid up his stomach and chest, stroking his pectorals and collarbone, then sliding out over his shoulders. She ran her hands down his arms and picked up one hand in her own. She spread his fingers and traced his palm, seemingly fascinated by the breadth of his hand. Each little nick and scar was found and stroked before his hand was laid down and the whole thing repeated with the other.

Then she slipped those hands up his arms again and traced very very lightly over his neck. She cupped his jaw in her palms, stroked his ears. Slid her index finger down his nose and brushed it over his lips. Eliot's eyes slid closed despite himself, and he felt those clever fingers sliding up his cheeks and forehead into his hair. She let his hair sift through her fingers, nails lightly scraping against his scalp. If he hadn't been so aroused by her whole careful surveillance, Eliot could have fallen asleep. It was soothing and erotic at once.

Then he felt her lean down and her lips press into his, and they shared another deep, drugging kiss. Eliot gently reached up and wrapped his arms around her, guiding her down onto the bed next to him. Then it was his turn.

Eliot's eyes could barely see the shadows of the bruises Darrien had put on her, but he knew they were there. He raised himself up on one elbow and gave her the same kind of long, slow surveillance that Parker had give him. Next time, he'd be quicker. Faster. He'd keep her from getting those marks, or at least, not as many.

He let his fingers follow the same path Parker had, curling his hands around her ankles and cupping her breasts in his rough palms. Soft, she was so soft all over. Soft skin over smooth, hard muscles. He'd always chased stereotypically womanly women, but somehow the strength and subtlety of Parker's body fascinated and aroused him far more than any of those other women had. Maybe it was his familiarity with it; he'd watched her use that fabulous body for years, twisting and contorting and doing amazing things on con after con.

She was shifting beneath his hands, and he could see the faintest flush under the surface of that pale skin. Parker reached for him, long fingers tugging gently on his hips and he let her pull him to her, leaning down to kiss her again. He felt her sigh into his mouth as their bodies slipped slowly together. Her leg wrapped around his hip, pressing him closer and deeper. Eliot kept his weight up on his elbows, mindful of Parker's ribs.

Parker broke the kiss and looked up at him. "Eliot," she whispered.

He nuzzled her nose with his and gently flexed his hips. In and out, a slow, gentle slide. "Yeah, sweetheart?" he answered, voice low and rough. He only had so many working brain cells left.

Her fingers, god, how he loved those fingers, were stroking his biceps and curling around his shoulders. "Why is this different?" she asked, so very softly. "Is it because it's you?"

Eliot had to kiss her again, and couldn't stop himself from moving again. Stroking, once, twice. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. Her fingers wound into his hair. "Maybe it's because it's you," he managed.

Parker's blue eyes were dark, dark, dark as they stared into his. And then she was brushing his lips with hers again. "Maybe because it's us," she said.

Happy weekend, everyone! Hope this sends you off with a smile on your face!