Title: Havana

Summary: Eliot meets up with an old friend while the team takes a short vacation.

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: Thank you so much to those who reviewed! They really do mean a lot. Hope this next chapter didn't get too mushy…

Chapter 11

"I love you Eliot."

That had been the first time a woman had said those words to him.

Natalia was lying in his arms on the very brink of sleep as the sun began to peek over the horizon. The sky was a watercolor wash of purple, pink, and orange, bathing the golden Nevada sand in its glow. He tucked the thick blanket tightly around the contours of her body, insuring that she was warm against the cold desert air. The fire they had built from chaparral earlier now sat smoldering beside his truck and he stared idly from the pickup bed down at the tendrils of smoke that dissipated into nothingness. She nuzzled the soft worn leather of his jacket, sinking deeper into the warmth radiating off of his body. She was like a great cat at his side, elegant and beautiful even in an oversized sweatshirt, jeans, and dusty cowboy boots. Eliot gently kissed the top of her head.

Running away to Las Vegas had been a good idea after all.

They drove all day on a whim to get there, bought new fancy clothes they couldn't afford, spent the night in casinos, and the early hours of the morning closing down bars. They had managed to pay for the clothes and more working as a team; Eliot seated at the poker table, Natalia close by his side, bending over just so every once in a while and holding seductive eye contact with the other players long enough to get their minds off of their cards.

They were due back at school the next afternoon, but were determined to stay up long enough to see a desert sunrise. They changed their clothes and lay in the bed of Eliot's truck talking and laughing, waiting for their sunrise. And they saw it. Barely. Eliot's eyes began to slip closed as the ever brightening sphere moved over the mountaintops.

"I love you too Natalia. I always will."

Eliot rarely dreamed, and even if he did, the visions were often forgotten minutes after their incarnation. But this one he remembered as he opened his eyes against the blue-grey glow that always preceded sunrise. His dream had taken him into the past, to a memory that had been locked away, covered by years of experiences that were better kept suppressed. But this was a little diamond dug up by his subconscious, glittering and sparkling with beauty.

He immediately took stock. Natalia was where he remembered her, wrapped in a towel in his arms, fast asleep. He knew they would have to be going soon before the morning crowd hit the beach. But that would entail waking her. Shit.

He softly kissed the top of her head, gently rubbing a hand over her arm, desperately hoping she would stir. She moaned and lifted her head.

"Oh. Right," was her response and Eliot laughed as she got up and began to dress, slipping her clothes on over her now dry undergarments. He did the same and soon they were walking hand in hand down the cobblestone street back to their hotel, Eliot carrying the rum, Natalia wearing his fedora. It was perched slightly, albeit fashionably, off-kilter on top of her now wild curls. She had forgone her heels, deeming them inappropriate for 5:58 am, and let out a soft yawn. Eliot knew that she was tired, but that she would never admit it. She wasn't like him, able to survive on minimal sleep. She caught up on missed hours whenever she had the chance and he had interrupted her precious time off by paying her a visit. He knew she didn't mind at all but couldn't help the pang of guilt that hit his stomach. He was going to make it up to her.

When they returned to their hotel room, Hannibal came bounding out of the bathroom, yipping and bouncing at their feet with delight. Natalia set down her shoes and picked up the pup, laughing as he licked her salty skin. Eliot came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I'll feed him and take him out for a bit," he rumbled lowly in her ear, now in range for the dog to lick the tip of his nose in wet puppy kisses. "You go take a shower and climb on into bed. I'll be back before you know it." It was her turn to kiss him. She whispered a "thank you" and he took Hannibal from her arms, talking to him like he would a baby. She felt a kind of warmth spread over her heart at this softer side of the hitter. She handed him a can of food and the dog's makeshift leash before he ushered her off to the shower, assuring her that he'd take care of everything. Ten minutes later she wrapped her wet hair up in a loose bun, threw on a cut-up grey t-shirt and navy blue shorts, and nestled down in the white sheets, eyes closed, blissfully lost to the world.

When he returned, Eliot dished out Hannibal's food in the bathroom to ensure that he wouldn't disturb Natalia before hopping into the shower himself. His skin had been itchy from the salt water and after drying off he shuffled through the tiny bottles on the counter for some lotion. He returned to the room and pulled on a pair of black boxer briefs and a blue shirt before quietly sifting through the desk drawers until he found what he was looking for. He made a hushed call from the hotel telephone before returning to check on the puppy one last time. Content with the fact that everything was in order, Eliot slipped into bed beside her, wrapping a muscled arm around her waist and kissing the back of her neck, causing her to unconsciously let out a soft moan and snuggle back into his solid warmth. Eliot wasn't tired, in fact quite the opposite, but he was perfectly content to lie with her in his arms. He thought again about the dream he had.

He meant what he said. He had loved her, and still did. He was reminded of it every time they were together, every time he held her like this, her scent filling his nose, her warm skin pressed against his. And yet he forced himself to forget about her outside of their trysts, and he knew she did the same. They couldn't afford to think about each other. Their love was a distraction that would get in the way of their respective jobs. It was dangerous to think too long and hard about it. And yet, that's exactly what he was doing now.

When people asked him if he had ever been in love he always said "yes" but was quick to add "once," almost as if to convince himself that it had only been once. What had really only been once was the possibility of settling down, of having a family. He had that with Aimee before he went and fucked it all up. Well, in a way, they both did. He could talk about her because it was the past; a chapter in his life written in a book that had long since closed.

But Natalia, her chapter was very much alive and ever changing. He couldn't talk about her because part of him didn't know what to say, part of him wanted to keep her to himself, and yet another part was afraid to face his reality. He raised an eyebrow and quirked a corner of his mouth in disbelief. Yes, if Eliot Spencer felt fear, this was most certainly one thing that managed to shake him. Somewhere deep down, he knew that he could never have Natalia. She wasn't that kind of girl. Sure, you could take her home to your Momma and guaranteed she'd fall in love with her, but Natalia was an assassin. She belonged out in the wind, not barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen…tantalizing though the image was to a more base side of his masculinity.

But no, Natalia was as wild as she was beautiful, the same alluring combination that caused men to want to tame big cats and keep them in their houses for their enjoyment. That's how he would feel about taming her; selfish. As much as he wanted her, he knew she was needed elsewhere. She could do good elsewhere. Why would she ever give that up to settle down? With him of all people? No. Selfish is exactly what that was. And why the hell was all of this hitting him now?

"I can feel you thinking," came a husky whisper from in front of him.

"Wha…no I was just…"

"Eliot," she turned to face him, his arm still draped around her waist. "Something is eating at you, it has been all morning." Her big green eyes were soft now, looking up into his blue ones with earnest compassion.

"I had a dream about the time we went to Vegas," he said slowly. Her eyes flashed happiness at the recollection before the emotion faded into something more somber as the memory played out in her mind. "Yeah," he whispered, knowing she knew exactly what had been bothering him.

For the first time in a long time she felt unsure of what to say. She was used to a position of control, of certainty. Hit, block, kick, and pull the trigger. All of these were second nature to her, as natural and controlled as her own breath. But this was a different realm entirely. These were human emotions. They couldn't be thought through or rationalized – something she had learned long ago. But they couldn't be smothered either, something perhaps both of them did a bit too well.

She propped herself up, as did he, allowing her room to move. Natalia sat in his lap and took his head in her hands. "Close your eyes," she whispered. Her fingers lightly traced the features of his face, some he was born with, others accumulated through a life hard lived. She ran them through his soft brown hair, wavy and damp from having just been washed, down across his strong brow, slightly knitted from the tension in his body. Her thumb delicately brushed his left eyebrow where it was split through with a scar, smiling as she remembered her own on the arch of her right one. She had done that on a rocking chair when she was two and had offered him a high five and a 'welcome to the club' when she first saw his. Tenderly she swept over the faint mirth lines around his eyes that remained long after a smile had faded from his face, marveling like a child at how long his eyelashes were. She moved then to his nose, which was now adorned with a smattering of light freckles that spread to his cheeks, a gift from the relentless Caribbean sun. Her index and middle fingers danced over his upper lip, lingering on another scar, this one nearly invisible through the heavy scruff that he had allowed to grow unchecked. He gasped and opened his eyes when her fingers brushed his bottom lip before she held his face firmly in her hands. She looked down at her Eliot, world-weary, scruffy, and scarred, so different from the boy she had loved so long ago, and yet she still felt the same welling of love in her heart. He smiled. Her touch was a tenderness he thought assassins shouldn't be capable of, but it was her touch all the same, the one he remembered and so deeply craved. She accepted every unshaven, cut up, damaged inch of him, inside and out. That was really all he needed to know.

"Eliot," she whispered, "I still love you. I've never stopped," her eyes shimmered with the beginnings of tears. "If you hit your end and you tell me you need me – in whatever way that may be – I'm going to be there. Just promise me you'll have the strength to know when to stop all of this. Know when your heart can't take anymore. Because you'll kill yourself if you don't," she wrapped her arms tight around him, the conviction of her words magnified by the fierceness of her touch. "And I swear I'll kill you again for leaving me."

Eliot held her there for a long while as she sniffled a bit, a warm tear or two running down her cheek, soaking into the fabric of his t-shirt. He could feel her heart beating solidly against him, the consistency of it soothing him.

"It's ridiculous how mushy you can make me," she whispered huskily, her face buried in his shoulder.

"Same," he smiled as he pulled back just enough to kiss her, lazily capturing her bottom lip between his. He firmly held the back of her head, his fingers mussing her damp hair as their kisses increased in hunger.

She immediately pulled away from him as a knock sounded on the door, snapping into alertness. "Are we expecting someone?" She arched an eyebrow.

"Breakfast," he offered a scruffy smile as she kissed him again on the cheek.