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: Again, super sorry for the delay! I've been sorting out a bunch of things for the summer. This next chapter is from Eliot's perspective in the present tense. Never done it before so I hope came out alright! Again thank you to all of my awesome readers and for the nominations in the Leverage Fanfic Awards (voting going on now)! It's so cool to know that you all dig my stories that much and it really does mean a lot. Hopefully I can get another chapter to you guys soon but enjoy this one in the meantime!

Chapter 5: Why Eliot Loves Puerto Rico

~January 15th 2005 ~ Puerto Rico

It's 1 am and we've been here for an hour already, but I think the party's just getting started. The DJ just pressed 'play' on that sexy Spanish number that gets her going like nothing else. The one with a beat that won't quit. The beat that turns her into an instant slut on the dance floor.

Yeah. That one.

The first few notes ain't even left the speakers and before I can mentally prepare for what she's about to do, she's got me by the hand, pulling me into the crush of bodies on the floor. Strobe lights slice through the cigarette smoke and in the brief flashes all I can see is hips, tits, and ass.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Ordinarily I'd hate this. Hate the people smashin' into me. Hate the fact that I can't hear a damn thing. Hate the fact that this is a freakin' deathtrap should anything go south. But hell, I've got this bourbon buzz goin' and an assassin in my arms so I think I'm gonna be just fine.

Natalia's got these loose hips, ya see, like quicksilver in your hands. I can feel the eyes as people start to stare. I know what they want, but too fuckin' bad boys 'cause she ain't got eyes for nobody but me. I can feel her back against my chest before I see it happen, followed by that perfect ass on my crotch. These jeans are about to get real uncomfortable.

Half the people in here have no idea what the words comin' out the speakers mean, the other half's too drunk to care. But Natalia, oh she knows. And she's taking full advantage of it. Her skin is burning hot under my fingers from those toned abs down under the waistband of her jeans. She tangles her fingers in my hair and tosses her head back into the curve of my shoulder before I hear her voice in my ear.

"Alleyway El."

And that's why she's my kinda woman.

It's fuckin 70 degrees outside but I swear a chill just shot up my spine. I've got her between me and a brick wall and she just turned into that insane little wildcat with the insatiable appetite for sex. Her fingers are clawin' into my back through this t-shirt and I'd be pissed if it didn't feel so good.

See, this is the kinda shit that gets you arrested. Pinning a woman to the wall in some sleezy back alley with your lips on her neck and your hands up her shirt is grounds for at least a few felonies. But knowing her she's got some kinda government ID hidden somewhere that could get her outta hell itself. Yeah, there it is. That little piece of plastic slipped into her bra. It's a fuckin' free pass for whatever she wants and judging by the way she's rippin' at my jeans, it's me, inside her, right now.

I can barely get it together enough to undo the zipper on her shorts. She makes a move to wrap her leg around my waist but I flip her around instead and shove her into the wall. She'd be lyin' if she said she didn't like it better from behind. Sometimes she just likes to be roughed up and used for a good fuck like the slut she turns into on nights like this.

But hey, I ain't complainin'.

Natalia ain't drunk. She ain't even buzzed. She's just that fuckin' crazy when she lets it all go. With her, sometimes sex is just sex. Purely for the purpose of gettin' off because you need to. And honestly, it's nice. No flood of emotion. No pressure to fuckin' cuddle after when you're all sweaty and just wanna sleep. It's 'I ain't gotta make you breakfast in the morning' kind of sex. Sometimes it's exactly what you want. Like right now.

Natalia lets out this little cry when I'm finally inside her. It's just soft enough not to be heard over the music of the club, but loud enough to make my brain short circuit. Her body between me and this wall, the smell of her hair laced with cigarette smoke, the way she arches up into my chest. No wonder this is illegal.

From the way she's pushing against me I can tell she's getting impatient. I step back, pull her hips to mine and grab her shoulder, slamming into her again and again. This is insane. But not enough to stop. She braces herself against the brick wall and tosses her head back and I can't help but grab her hair and pull until she cries out.

All she can say is 'harder Eliot' and I'll be damned if I ain't gonna oblige. She's ridiculously close now and to be honest, I got this image of a sad little dog in the back of my mind just to hold out long enough.

I get my hand over her mouth just as I feel her start to go over. She knows better than to scream. Not even sure why I did it. Habit I guess. And believe me, its killin' me not to hear it just as much as it's killin' her not to do it. I could go from ice cold to can't hold it back from the way she screams my name alone. I thrust into her one last time, smashing her into the wall again and holding her there, feeling her every breath against my chest as she rides it out. She always likes it deep when she comes. It's like part of her needs to know that you're really there, and the other part of her wants to make you feel every fuckin' spasm so she can steal your sanity as she pushes you over the edge. That's all I need. I bury my face in the back of her shoulder and she reaches back to grab my hair as I come.

There's no time to recover in an alley like this, so we shuffle around quickly to put everything back in place. She stops before we leave, and stares up at me with those huge eyes. Christ, she looks gorgeous with her hair all a mess, that flush on her cheeks, and those bee-stung lips. I cup her face in my hands and kiss her like my life depended on it.

Because this woman is going to be the death of me.

But I can live with that.