A/N: So yeah…I'm an Eliot/Parker shipper, probably the one ship we'll never see on the show, but yeah. And I saw this brief scene with Christian Kane in it from a movie he did and it sparked this so…yeah…again. I don't do romance very often, but try to enjoy anyway. Rated strong T (not M because I only imply the explicit, don't actually detail it), hehe, I don't do romance often...but somehow it always comes out smutty. lol. This doesn't have much of a Plot, just shameless E/P fluffersmut. If you think the flow is just a little bit choppy, and find it annoying, I do apologize, but it is on purpose.– pj

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Eliot lets his head drop back, closing his eyes briefly to contemplate how this had happened. How did they get here?

But Parker's hot lips are on his stomach her greedy hands pulling his undershirt from where it is tucked into his jeans and he's finding coherent thought escapes him.

His head falls forward again and he looks down at her. She is sitting on the bed where he is kneeling and he runs one hand through his hair to push it out of his face. Reaching one hand back to grab hold of the shirt, he assists her in pulling the unwanted garment all the way off.

She climbs to her knees, coming up to meet his lips as she pushes one hand into his hair, her desperation for this reflected back at her in Eliot's soft gasp and the way his fingers tremble as they drag down her sides to rest on her hips. She leans back and pulls him down over her, he holding onto her lips for a moment before leaving off to kiss her nose and cheeks and chin and neck. He is gentle, so gentle, and she realizes he is surprising her. Again.

Parker would never have thought to describe him as 'gentle'.

It occurs to her that they are teammates or something and maybe she should restrain herself from this. But, God, Eliot is good with his hands and it's not as if Nate and Sophie wouldn't be doing the same if they weren't so chicken shit afraid of…well she isn't actually sure what they're afraid of. She tries to think of what it might be that would keep someone from this but her thoughts dissolve as Eliot's teeth pull at the button of her jeans.

Eliot knows this is a bad idea. He has enough trouble keeping the distance he should from the team in order to do his job effectively, and he knows this will not help. Hardison is quickly becoming a friend, a brother. Nate and Sophie are morphing beyond people he tolerates to get the job done. They're more. But he can't afford more. He can't allow himself to have more. Parker fists her hands in his hair, dragging him back up to her lips and he kisses her fast and urgent, wishing to outrun his thoughts.

He doesn't want to hurt Parker, and he will hurt her, he knows. He's never been in a relationship, romantic or otherwise, that didn't end in pain. If he knows anything he knows there are no guarantees.

Eliot thinks she deserves a guarantee.

But just this once he wants to ignore the well trained soldier, the southern gentlemen in him that says he should walk away now, before he gets in too deep. He's so tired of a life of control. Of deprivation in order to survive. For once he wants to do what feels right, consequences be damned.

All remaining thoughts of abandoning this whole idea are banished when Parker laughs into his mouth as his hands brush against her sides, pulling her shirt off over her head.

Just this once.

Parker's thoughts are scattered bits of ecstasy. They flitter together randomly and then disappear in a burst of light when Eliot's lipstoungehands touch her in ways she's never even entertained before. Desperate for something to cling to she wraps her arms around his back, her muscles twitching and flighty. Eliot growls low in his throat and his lips lock on hers as he quickly removes her hands and pins them out on either side of her head with his own. She recalls briefly that he was in a fight earlier that day and the goon hit him several times with a wrench across his back, but the memory is gone in a flash of bliss and pain.

Just this once.

Eliot's teeth release her, his senses on overload from the sensation of Parker's skin against his and the bruised and battered muscles of his torso screaming at the exertion of their activities.

Parker's eyes roll back in her head and Eliot grins, the pain again forgotten.

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Later, when they are both exhausted and basking in the afterglow, they lie beside one another, the thoughts they'd refused to entertain before now buzzing around in the clarity of silence.

Eliot lies on his stomach, his hair pushed off to one side, his arms wrapped around a pillow, eyes closed in relaxation. He has no idea what they've just done, besides the obvious, and he's too happy to think abuot it now. And being happy is too rare for him to want to ruin it with heavy handed words. He'll think about it tomorrow.

Parker, too, has decided to put off thinking until tomorrow, much more interested in what is in front of her right now. She is propped up on one arm beside him, a delicate, feather light touch traces the scars that mottle his back and she wonders briefly if she'll ever know the story behind each one. If she even wants to.

There are bruises there too, in various stages of healing and she frowns, having never thought of the toll Eliot's role as their Hitter would take on his body. The ones from today are the three large, ugly ones that are colored a deep purplish blue. A pang of guilt blossoms in her chest when she realizes she can't recall where he must have gotten the ones that are several days old, a light yellowish color against his tan skin.

Her hackles rise and her eyes bounce up to Eliot's face, his painfully blue eyes staring back at her own.

"What?" He asks, his voice quieter and deeper with the want for sleep.

She lays back down so he isn't looking up, but over at her, and mimics his position, crossing her arms under the pillow.

"You have lots of scars," she states outright. Eliot doesn't flinch.

She likes that about him.

Instead he shrugs, readjusting his head on the pillow.

"Comes with the job." He answers the question he's sure she means to ask and watches as her eyes wander, considering. Eliot waits patiently for her to continue. Contrary to popular opinion, there is usually a point to what she says.

He likes that about her.

"What are you punishing yourself for?"

His eyes snap open from a light doze and meet Parker's, only curiosity and maybe a bit of concern swimming in her gaze. He sighs, pulling one hand from under the pillow to rub across his face. He finds himself wishing it didn't hurt so much to lie on his back because he'd really like to avoid that blank, expecting stare right about now.

Mistaking his lack of response for anger, Parker quickly backtracks, a blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks.

"That was wrong, wasn't it? I shouldn't have-" she starts to sit up, but is stopped short by Eliot's hand shooting out to grab her wrist.

"Stop movin' so much Parker," he demands, but even she can see past the feigned annoyance in his tone. She settles back down beside him, waiting for her answer.

"I-" he starts, then shuts his mouth quickly before taking a breath to start again.

"There are some things…some things we do because we have no choice," he says, clearly struggling for words, "and…and there are some things we do because…now we have a choice, when we didn't before." He finishes and lets out a breath, his eyes narrowed in concentration as if he can will Parker to understand what he knows he did not explain very well.

But she has a way of always surprising him.

Parker stares at him for a moment and then nods, "that makes sense."

"It does?" he asks, not sure he's heard right.

Parker doesn't repeat herself. Instead her 'I've got a bad idea that sounds like fun' grin claims her lips and she reaches one hand over to slide lightly down his back to where his lower body disappears below the sheet. And her hand keeps going.

"Think you can go again?" She asks, her voice husky and her eyes glowing.

Eliot grins.

"There's some aspirin in the bathroom. Grab me some and I'll outlast you, darlin'."

Parker grins wickedly and in a flash she is gone from the bed, a challenging, "don't count on it, Sparky," lingering in her wake.

Eliot's chuckling fills the room as his eyes fall closed again, giving his body all the rest he can until Parker gets back. He's pretty sure he's gonna need it.

Even if it is just this once.

END - So, I hope you guys liked it. Um, I'm pretty sure Eliot has never said darlin' on the show before (would love it if he did though) but i like reading it so I thought I'd throw it in. Would love to hear from you if you liked it! ^_^