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: This chapter is kind of a funny idea that popped into my head. Hope you enjoy! Sorry in advance for it being a bit lemon-y. ;-)

Chapter 6: It Was Only a Dream

~January 13th 2011 ~ Boston

"Hello?" He called into the darkness of his apartment, sensing a presence other than his own. He cautiously made his way into the bedroom, unconsciously holding his breath to better hear what he couldn't see. He didn't feel as though he was in danger, but he was on edge nonetheless.

"Parker?" He called as he tapped the metal base of the lamp on his bedside table, allowing warm light to bathe the room. He moved around to the foot of the bed to get a better look. "Who's…"

He was silenced by fingers running over the back of his shoulder.

He felt his body bristle at the touch before cautiously turning around to find a pair of smoldering green eyes.

"Natalia. Wha…" She silenced him by pressing her lips to his, causing him to moan in surprise. His nerves were buzzing and he felt the blood rush to his head, bringing on a feeling of dizzying pleasure. She devoured his mouth, feeling the tension escape his body as he melted into her kiss, running his hands over her trench coat. Natalia wasted no time in slipping her fingers under the fabric of his t-shirt and slipping it over his head, taking a moment to run her long fingers over the chiseled muscle of his abs. He pulled her to his chest and stared down into the assassin's eyes, already dark from the adrenaline coursing through her blood. One corner of her mouth turned up into a smirk as she pulled the sash on her coat before slowly undoing each button, reveling in the feeling of his eyes tracking her every move. She slowly allowed the fabric to slip from her shoulders and pool onto the floor revealing deadly curves encased in red lingerie.

"Damn, girl," he breathed and wrapped his hands around her hips as she kissed him again, running her tongue along his full bottom lip.

"All for you," she purred against his mouth. His mind questioned her presence, but his body betrayed his logic. He felt a hand square against his chest as she shoved him down on his bed and straddled him. He quickly propped himself up on his elbows, hungrily mashing his lips to hers again before slipping his tongue into the assassin's mouth.

Natalia ran her fingers over the taught skin that covered shapely muscle as he sucked on her neck. She ground her hips against the hardness in his jeans, tossing her head back and grinning wildly in satisfaction. He wrapped an arm around her waist and rolled her to the side, covering her body with his. Her hands frantically worked to find the button on his jeans, which she soon had undone. He moaned as she cupped him in her palm, massaging his package as his brain turned to mush. He managed to slip off his jeans and she wrapped one long leg around his, teasing him with the softness of her skin.

He sat back on his haunches, staring down at her perfect form below him. Her soft, full breasts caged in that red lace, her toned stomach rising and falling with every desperate breath, her supple lips parted and flushed from his assault on them moments before. She was perfect. She was always perfect. And right now, she was his. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs and began to slip them down when suddenly he heard something that didn't belong.

Thumping.

It was something like the hammering of a fist on wood, loud, urgent, and unrelenting.

"HARDISON!"

The hacker bolted upright in his bed, his dark skin covered in a soft sheen of sweat.

Eliot was pounding on his front door and screaming his name amidst curses and threats.

Oh God. Oooooh fuck. Eliot's gonna kill me. I was dreaming about fucking his girl…

And now he's here to kill me.

Hardison immediately stumbled out of bed, clad in nothing but boxer briefs, his bare feet slipping on the hardwood floor before he caught himself. His heart was hammering in his ears now, just as loud as Eliot's assault on the door.

"HARDISON OPEN THIS FREAKIN' DOOR OR IMMA…" the hitter's threat was cut short as Hardison flung the front door open, leaving Eliot mid-pound with his fist clenched and raised high in the air.

"The fuck's wrong with you man?" The hitter yelled, his brow furrowed.

"I uh. I was, um. Asleep man. I was asleep," Hardison gestured at his bedroom and swallowed hard as Eliot pushed past him into the living room.

Act cool man, act cool.

"Nate's been callin' you for the past thirty minutes and I've been bangin' on this door for the past five." His voice was still high pitched and agitated. "He's got a client." Eliot looked the other man over as he folded his arms across his chest. "What the fuck are you standing around for man? Go fuckin' get dressed." Eliot's brow knotted again in annoyance.

He's got no idea. Yeah. Well, of course not. He can't read my mind. Hardison started for his bedroom but cast one last look over his shoulder at Eliot, who raised a curious eyebrow.

Can he?

Nah. Nah he can't… he thought, more to reassure himself than anything else.

"I'll be out in a minute, man," Hardison called as Eliot went to the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

"There's somethin' wrong wit you…" the hitter mumbled under his breath, pissed that he would have to wait on Hardison even a minute longer. But then again…

He was used to it.