A/N: Love that pretty much everyone recognised Christian Kane's 'Mary Can You Come Outside' in the previous chapter - very cool. As you may have guessed after the way that chapter ended, this one isn't going to start too happy...

(For disclaimer, etc. - see chapter 1)

Chapter 11

Parker felt sick. Not like she was actually going to throw up, but there was this awful feeling, like a lead weight in the pit of her stomach and it didn't feel like it was going to shift any time soon. She wondered if this was what guilt felt like. It was hard to tell since it wasn't really an emotion she knew much about. She did what she wanted to without regret, mindful that she never hurt anybody that couldn't deserve it. Parker had always robbed from the rich, and recently had been helping the down-trodden at the same time, thanks to her team and their Robin Hood tendencies. Today she had made a big mistake and seemed to have genuinely wounded a guy she considered to be a very special friend. At the same time, she had hurt herself, which only made it twice as bad.

Eliot had not been amused when she handed him his own guitar, smuggled into the club in secret, and pretty much demanded he sing for her. She asked for a happy song, she certainly hadn't got one, and the look on his face when it was over meant he was really mad. Parker wasn't afraid of Eliot, not ever, but she did hate to think he was going to yell or get upset over something she had done. She had tagged along on this road trip hoping to cheer him up, help the hitter get over whatever issues he was having with Moreau and all. Now she had done quite the opposite and made things worse. Yeah, she felt sick.

"Eliot!" she called as she chased him across the street and back into the hotel.

She ceased using his name when they reached the lobby, realising she was getting people's attention now. That wasn't even meant to be his name here, and she wasn't Parker either. Keeping her mouth closed, she bolted towards the elevators just in time to see the doors close on the hitter. Parker wasted no time in heading for the stairs, swiping at her eyes as she went, hating that tears were blocking her view. She wasn't sure why she was crying, maybe because she knew she'd made Eliot mad. Maybe partly because of the song he had sung at the club. She wasn't so naive, she knew why he chose that one. She couldn't be sure it was the first time he lost his temper and tore some guy a new one for what he did wrong, but that was what he was trying to prove to Parker. He seemed to want her to think he was the bad guy, that he was violent and dangerous. She knew better, and wanted to tell him so, over and over again until he listened, but she had to catch him first.

Parker was pretty sure Eliot would go back to their rooms and stay there. He wasn't so mad that he'd leave town without her, and besides which, she wasn't going to give him time to collect his things and escape again. She ran up the stairs like a woman possessed, not even stopping once to check where the elevator had got to. She reached the right floor and flew into the hallway, just in time to see Eliot's back disappear through his door. With pinpoint accuracy, she threw the keycard from he own pocket, catching his door before it could quite closed. She was lucky, it didn't snap, and she raced over to get in before Eliot noticed and locked her out.

The hitter was putting his guitar back in its case when she came barrelling in. Parker stopped just inside the door, pushing it closed without ever turning. Now she was here and able to talk to Eliot, she didn't know where to start. She wasn't out of breath from running, and though the emotion was thick in her throat she knew she could speak. All she had to do was find the words.

"I'm sorry," she said eventually.

Eliot kept his back to her for a long moment and when he did turn to look at her, Parker almost wished he hadn't. He looked less mad right now, more hurt. That was worse than mad. She could have handled yelling, she didn't know what to do when people were in pain, not emotional pain anyway, and she especially didn't know what to do for Eliot. He was the one that protected everybody else, stopped the bleeding, stopped the tears, made everything better. She didn't know how to do that for him.

On his side of this whole thing, Eliot didn't know what to say or do for the best either. He couldn't handle this, he really couldn't. This trip was meant to let him get away, think through things he'd done in his past, and reconcile it all. He wanted to try to find a way to a little peace, to make it so he could live with the man he had become. He needed to atone and at the same time move on from the past. Parker coming along for the ride had never been the plan, but for a while there it had worked out okay. She was good company, for a crazy person. She could drive him nuts so easily, and yet at the same time, it was nice to have somebody around that didn't think he was the scum of the Earth. Her good opinion of him was something to work towards, to earn the respect and trust she gave him. If he could do that, he would be okay. Unfortunately, the goodness and sweetness in her, the affection she tried to show him, it just made Eliot remember how much he couldn't deserve her, not her friendship, and certainly nothing more than that. It was all a horrible reminder of the good people he had hurt before, the innocents, the undeserving decent folk that he'd trampled on his way to the top of a food-chain he wished he kept far away from now.

"I know," he said eventually. "I know you're sorry," he told Parker, pinching the bridge of his nose as his head started to overload, letting his hair fall in his eyes because it was easier than looking at the world or at her right now.

"I didn't mean to… to make things bad," Parker continued her apology, even though he had just said it was okay, more or less – sorry alone didn't feel like enough to her. "I just wanted to hear you sing, but that song was…"

"It was true, every word," said Eliot, looking up fast. "That's the person I am, Parker," he spat out, as if the admission tasted bitter. "I'm the guy that busts into the homes of strangers and beats the living crap out of them for no reason."

"Not for no reason," Parker shook her head definitely, moving a step closer to him. "He was hitting his girlfriend. Mary was getting hurt, and you knew it. You had to save her."

"Did I?" asked Eliot, with a smile that had no warmth in it. "Maybe I did, but I coulda called the cops on that asshole. I coulda got her a safe place to run to, but no. That's good ol' Eliot Spencer. Don't think, just hit. Just swing, just shoot, just…"

The last word stuck in his throat when he met Parker's eyes. He was going to say 'kill' and on some level she knew it too. There were tears behind his eyes and he just looked so sad, beyond any kind of pain she'd seen before, even in the mirror. It destroyed him inside to remember things he'd done, whether for the right or wrong reasons. Parker knew Eliot wasn't thinking about beating up some guy that deserved it. He was thinking of people that maybe didn't, and people he'd done more to than simply knock out for the count.

"There's a mini bar in my room," she said swallowing hard. "Nate drinks to forget. You wanna try it?"

It was an oddly innocent offer, Eliot thought. Though she was tempting him into her bedroom with alcohol, Parker meant no kind of corruption to be implied. She didn't know what to say or do to make things better, so she went with her only frame of reference. When Nate was mad or sad, he drank. It was the only thing she could think of that might help, so she was offering it. Never mind the fact he also had alcohol in his own room. Eliot felt the need to help Parker soothe her wounded soul. She hated that she might've upset him, that was clear enough from the tears and the desperation in her eyes when she apologised. She really hadn't meant any harm, and it wasn't her fault he had more demons to fight than she could ever imagine.

"Sure," he said eventually. "Let's try that patented Ford method of memory removal," he said with a smirk that didn't quite come out right.

Parker didn't care. She was smiling again because she found a way to help, grabbing his hand and dragging him through the bathroom to her own room. Getting drunk with Parker might just be an experience Eliot could afford to try. Hell, it might even help, albeit for just a few hours. What harm could it really do in the long run?

Eliot wasn't exactly drunk. It took more than a few tiny little bottles from a mini bar to achieve such a state these days, but he had had enough to feel a little easier inside. Only drinking himself into complete oblivious, partial death by Jack, would rid his head of Moreau and his past completely, but this would do for now. Parker was at least amusing when she drank, which helped his mood. She wasn't a light-weight as such, she could hold her liquor without throwing up or passing out, but she got the most uncontrollable giggles over the dumbest things when she got to drinking much. It also loosened her tongue and her talking a mile a minute on just about any topic that came up was as hilarious as it was crazy. Her flying off at tangents got worse, but Eliot didn't care to keep up anyway. He just listened, nodded in roughly the right places, made comment when it was really necessary, but mostly he was quiet.

It was stupidly relaxing just lying here across the bottom of the bed with one arm behind his head, feeding in the contents of one tiny bottle after the other as Parker handed them to him, her voice rambling on in his ear with silly stories of heists gone wrong and some of the happier adventures she had as a kid. It was good to know her past wasn't all dark and dismal, even if the highlights of her childhood did involve petty theft and minor felonies.

"Oh," she said with sudden surprise, making Eliot look from the ceiling to her. "All the way empty, every single one," she sighed heavily, showing her friend all the little bottles of nothing.

The next thing Eliot knew, Parker was laid down beside him, mimicking his position. She was close enough he could smell her shampoo and feel the warmth of her body. It made him think of last night when she had been curled up in his arms, perfectly content. That was the only time on this trip he'd felt more peaceful than right now.

"You are amazing, darlin'," he said without really thinking, the effects of the alcohol, no doubt, since it was something that rarely if ever happened when he was sober.

Parker looked oddly startled by the compliment, and that just made Eliot's heart ache. Someone like her should be used to being told how great they were, but no. Nobody cared enough to be that kind to Parker. She was unwanted and uncared for. It wasn't fair.

On Parker's part, she wasn't thinking too much herself. As a rule she tried not to, since it usually led to badness. Right now she felt warm and comfortable, and had an all-over glow that she couldn't put down solely to the alcohol. It hadn't been there until Eliot turned and looked at her like this, telling her she was apparently amazing.

It was usual that when Parker chose to move it was lightning fast and unexpected. Still, Eliot could not have predicted her next move, and probably even Parker wouldn't've known she was going to do it until it was done. Instinct made her do it, that was what she thought anyway, just vaguely, and then she was there, on top of Eliot, with her lips pressed firmly against his own.

This wasn't right, that was what Eliot was trying to tell himself, and yet the reasons why he should stop it and fast seemed to have disappeared clean out of his head. Blame the booze, blame the warm female form squirming around on top of him, hell, blame anything you wanted, it didn't stop it being true that he just couldn't concentrate on anything but Parker right now. It was only when her hands crept from his chest in a decidedly southerly direction that his brain caught up with the rest of him, and Eliot made a point of carefully but definitely pushing her away.

"Parker, stop," he told her, as gently as he could, knowing that any kind of rejection might just break her tonight. "C'mon, sweetheart, you know this ain't a good idea," he said, looking up into her wide eyes.

She looked as startled as he'd felt when she first threw herself on top of him. Maybe her own actions surprised even her. Maybe it was the fact he had stopped her. He might have been surprised to realise that her real shock came from his responding to her so readily.

It was true what she thought then, that people were more easily seduced when drunk. Booze wasn't just good for drowning bad memories, it was good for loosening morals as well. Now Parker knew for sure that Eliot did like her, he would'n'tve let things get even this far if he didn't.

"I know you like women. I know you like sex," she reeled off, still straddling his hips. "And I'm pretty sure you like me," she added, trying not to smile too much as she shifted on top of him.

For fear of losing his self-control altogether, Eliot bodily picked her up and moved her then. He sat up on the edge of the bed before she had a chance to resume her former position and ran a hand through his hair.

"Damnit, Parker," he muttered, not really angry or even accusatory, which was a relief. "You don't just... It's not like I don't want to, okay?" he admitted, looking sideways at the blonde who grinned too much at his admission. "It's just not as simple as that, not with you and me, babe. It can't be."

Eliot felt like he was turning into a chick, or something worse. He was not the kind of guy that turned down hot women that offered him sex, especially not when he was feeling down and kinda drunk. Still, he meant what he said. This was different. Parker was different. It wasn't just that she was inexperienced and all, Eliot knew. He couldn't use her to make himself feel better, not even if she was more than willing to let him. She mattered too much to be a one night stand, and he couldn't offer her any more than that. He wasn't worthy of a woman like her and he knew it. Better to say so now, to back off and make it clear it could never happen, before anything really dumb got said or done.

"I thought sex was pretty simple, actually," Parker shrugged, clearly no getting it at all. "I mean, okay, not the most experienced person in the world," she raised a hand as if confessing to what he already knew. "But God made us so it just kinda works..."

"Parker!" he gently slapped her hands down when they started making gestures he could really use not seeing right now, if ever. "Sweetheart, it ain't even about sex," he told her, feeling stupid and awkward and all kinds of things he'd rather not be feeling, but this had to be said and it had to be now. "It's about... It's like I told you before, about you getting your happy ever after some day. I want you to have that, Parker, I really do," he told her sincerely, squeezing her hand in his own. "One day, you're gonna meet a man, and he's gonna take care of you and love you, and when you... when things get serious with you two," he said with a look that even Parker couldn't fail to read correctly, "then it'll be about love, and it'll be special. As special as you are."

Parker felt stupidly emotional at the sound of those words. Nobody ever called her special before, at least not in a good way. Nobody ever looked at her the way Eliot was right now, like she was the only person in the whole world that mattered. All it made her want to do was kiss him again, and find out if maybe she could feel those special feelings he was talking about with him. Eliot didn't seem willing though, and it was wrong to push when a person said no. That had to apply to men as much as women, she guessed.

"I'm sorry," she said with a sniff, not sure why she felt like she was going to start crying again, but putting it down to the booze because that was just easier than finding another, deeper reason.

"Nothin' to be sorry for, darlin'," Eliot promised her, glad that talk was over and that she seemed to understand.

Letting out a breath, he allowed his body to fall back against the mattress with a thud. Man, he was tired, and this night was going to turn out to be as late as the last if they didn't sleep soon. Of course, the idea of getting up and walking even as far as the next room didn't entirely appeal. Between the emotions and the alcohol, the soft bed beneath him and the warmth of the room, he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep right here. He almost changed his mind when he felt Parker move up beside him again.

"This is okay, right?" she checked, pillowing her head on his chest, seemingly just wanting to sleep like they did last night, wrapped up in each others arms.

Eliot didn't answer her at first, just shifted his arm around her back to pull her in closer and marvelled at the fact she was even there at all.

"Goodnight, Parker," he whispered into her hair, dropping a feather-light kiss on top of her head.

"'Night, Eliot," she replied drowsily, and was soon fast asleep.

Surprisingly, Eliot was not far behind.

To Be Continued...