Title: The Intersection of Points N and E

Summary: Snapshots of Eliot and Natalia's adventures over their years together.

Disclaimer: I don't own Leverage or any of the characters associated with the show. I only claim ownership to the character that I created. Also, no profits are being made off of this story. It's only for your entertainment.

Author's Note: Okay, a few notes before this next chapter. alinaandalion has a cool idea for Leverage Fanfic Awards going on now. Check out her stories for the one with the details (and some other really good stories)! Get those votes in!

Also, mfaerie32, I can assure you that this story will be just as steamy as the last two. They wouldn't be Eliot and Natalia otherwise!

Just a heads up, this will be non-sequential, but I will always give dates, so do keep an eye out for those. Other than that, this chapter does contain minor Eliot whumpage so be warned! Hope you like!

Chapter 2: How Eliot Got Out of North Korea

(Minus the Sapphire Monkey)

~June 14th 2001~ Washington DC

"Miss Natalia!"

"Jerry, how many times have I told you to just call me Natalia?" The assassin embraced the man who stood up from the array of buttons, switches, and blinking lights.

"You'll have to tell me at least a million more Miss Natalia." Jerry Smith was the head of the agency's radio room, a fortress of state of the art radio technology where he monitored outgoing transmissions from encrypted frequencies around the world. The information was fed into a supercomputer he lovingly called Lolita before he painstakingly combed through each and every one, sorting for information that could prove useful. Jerry was the son of a jazz musician and a lounge singer, a New Orleans native, and his jambalaya - Natalia was sure - had to be one of the seven wonders of the culinary world. He didn't let many people into his lair, but he considered Natalia a good friend, and an exceptional agent.

"Sit, sit!" He gestured animatedly at an empty chair near the console, waiting for her to take her seat before he did the same. "Where did you get back from?" The heat from the machines made the room warm and he wiped a handkerchief across his dark skin.

"Anguilla. Just got in yesterday," she leaned back in her chair, indicating a level of comfort that she didn't display around many people. "Davis wanted me to come down here and pick out something interesting to investigate. His idea of a vacation," she grinned at her boss' orders. "Got anything interesting?"

"Hmm, let's see," Jerry drawled as he shuffled through the papers that contained the most recent and potentially promising transmissions. Jerry loved Lolita with all his heart, but he also recognized the importance of paper records, just in case. "I've got South Africa, Uganda, Vietnam, North Korea…"

"Oooh," she perked up in her seat.

"You always did like a challenge," Jerry laughed before handing her the translated transmission from North Korea. "From what I got I think they were talking about a prisoner. Didn't catch from where. Not one-hundred percent on if Lolita translated that one right, it said something about a monkey. Didn't make too much sense to me."

"Jerry," Natalia's voice took on an urgency that he had never heard from her before. "I need the un-translated transcript of all transmissions picked up on this channel 24 hours prior to this one and everything since, and the room number of our North Korean expert. I want Lolita triangulating this position ASAP and text me the GPS coordinates as soon as she's got them."

"Immediately," he was almost afraid to verbalize his next thought, and he proceeded with caution. "What is it?"

"It's Eliot. They've got Eliot."

~June 16th 2001~ North Korea

"Where is it?" The voice shouted at him again in Korean. He was kneeling on the floor in a dimly lit room, hands tied behind his back, clad in nothing but cargo pants to guard against the cold of the cell. His vision was blurred as he stared curiously at the smattering of blood that colored the cement, too dazed to realize that it was his own.

A hand collided with his jawbone again sending a fresh wave of metallic-tasting warmth through his mouth.

"Tell us where it is!" Another man slapped the back of his head causing him to hack and spit onto the floor. He almost didn't feel the pain any longer.

"I don't…" he managed to roughly choke out the words, his brain struggling to formulate the sentence in Korean. "I don't know."

"Not good enough!" The first man shouted as he grabbed Eliot's hair and wrenched his head backward, raising a fist to strike again.

He heard a pop, which he assumed was the dislocation of his jaw, as the hand released its grip on his hair. Only, he didn't feel a new throb of pain. Another pop followed it and he saw the second man slump to the floor, staring at him through lifeless, unseeing eyes. He struggled to lift his head enough to see who had pulled the trigger. At that point he was sure he was hallucinating. The sight before him was surely the result of the last firing synapses of a dead man, playing before his eyes the one thing that he thought could save him.

Natalia.

"How…"

"Shh,no time for that now." She tucked her gun into the holster strapped around her thigh before unsheathing a knife from her combat boot. "Gordon get me that bag!" She yelled as she sliced through the rope that bound his hands. A black duffel bag flew through the door and thumped against the cement beside them. "Here," she knelt before him, unzipped the bag and swiftly helped his arms through a Kevlar vest before fastening the Velcro straps. She then pulled a thick jacket over his trembling form and zipped it up against the chill. "This too," she slipped darkly tinted glasses onto his face before tenderly wiping some blood from his chin. "We've got to go. Can you stand?"

"I think so," Eliot ground out as she helped him to his feet, supporting nearly all of his weight as she carried him out the door. The burden was quickly lifted as Nick Gordon slung Eliot's right arm over his shoulder, nearly carrying him as they moved swiftly down the dimly lit hallway.

"The radio…" Eliot whispered.

"I smashed it ten minutes ago," Gordon replied.

"And…" Eliot struggled to speak, "and the guard tower?"

"She's a sniper, man. Have some faith," Nick's sense of humor didn't crumble under the threat of danger.

"We've got company," Natalia remarked.

"Where?" Gordon could see the door, but no guards.

"Behind us. Got him?"

"Yeah," Gordon now supported all of Eliot's weight as Natalia whipped around, drew the guns strapped to her thighs, and opened fire. Eliot heard the shouts turn to screams and finally heavy thuds on the floor in the midst of her gunfire. Nick finally reached the door and pounded on it twice before it swung open. Even with the shades, Eliot's eyes weren't ready for the bright sunlight after a week of confinement. He shut them tightly against the blaze and felt another pair of hands help him into a vehicle. He was aware that Natalia fired off seven more rounds before the transport roared to life and took off. Eliot collapsed onto his back on the floor of the Humvee and felt the glasses being gently lifted from his face. It was then that he opened his eyes to the most beautiful color green he had ever seen.

"You're safe now Eliot," Natalia said softly as Nick went to work on his wounds. "We'll hit the South Korean border in six minutes and we have a Naval Medivac arranged to airlift you to onto one of their ships offshore. You're going to be just fine. But I need you to stay with me okay?"

"The monkey…" he barely whimpered, struggling to stay conscious.

"Fuck the monkey man. You want a monkey, I'll take you to the fuckin' zoo. You've got bigger problems right now," Gordon handed Natalia the bag of Eliot's IV, which she hung on a hook attached to her side of the roof. "He's about to lose it," Nick said in a serious tone directed at the assassin.

"Eliot, please, you need to stay awake. C'mon, you've got a girl to get home to alright?"

"Aimee?"

"Yes, Eliot she's going to be waiting for you," Natalia wiped a cool wet cloth across his forehead and down his cheek, cleaning the caked on blood.

"She's engaged."

"Well even more reason for you to get back home and fix that," she took a fresh rag and wet it, allowing the water to trickle into Eliot's mouth to quench some of his thirst.

"She doesn't want me."

"Well I want you. Stay here for me."

He barely managed to hang on to consciousness as the thump of helicopter blades grew louder. He knew she was there with him for the ride and he heard her barking orders at the ship's personnel to make sure he got the best possible care. She was there the whole time the doctors worked, only a few feet away, not daring to sleep or eat until she knew he was stable and resting comfortably.

He had fucked up. But she had fixed it. She killed for him. She saved him. So long as she was there, he was going to be okay.