Notes: Ok, so I had intended to draw out this story into a million drabbles, and post them all separately, and blah blah blah. Turns out, I don't have that kind of patience. So, I compromised with myself. This is the rest of the story, but you may notice that every paragraph is exactly 100 words, even this paragraph. I just couldn't imagine updating every day when it was already done. I know this is a different sort of Eliot story, what with the original character and all, but I hope you like it. Reviews would make my day/night.

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Jessie awoke in the unfamiliar hotel bed. Last night came rushing back in flashes of skin and heat. She'd made a definite mistake by sleeping with the mysterious Eliot, and made a bigger mistake by staying the night. But leaving, hell, even walking, after their night, had been out of the question. Jessie grinned at the thought. Deciding it was more than time to get gone, she attempted to rise, eyes shooting open as she felt the restraints on each wrist, attached to the bed. Then Eliot's voice, from the reclining chair. "'Mornin, Samantha." Not good. Not good at all.

Eliot was furious with himself, to be perfectly honest. He figured her name wasn't Jessie, figured it was just one of the lies; but he never guessed she'd try to con him! Should've seen it, he was the bad guy after all. But he'd been hypnotized by her curves in that thin white dress, by her raven hair and bright green eyes, and especially by her mouth and its delightfully wicked grin. She hadn't disappointed, in fact, left him damn near dead with pleasure. He should've known better. It was time to get some answers that her wallet couldn't provide.

Panic seized Jessie as she took in Eliot's relaxed stance and calculating look. Oh god, I'm gonna die. Great job Jess, sleeping with an ax murderer! Summoning courage, she glared at Eliot, "Look. Ok, yeah, so my name's not really Jessie. That's no reason for anybody to get hurt. Just, just let me go and I won't say a word, I swear!" She cringed as Eliot stood quickly, but she couldn't decipher the look on his face. It wasn't murderous though, so it was a start. Still, she clenched her eyes shut as he approached, waiting. "Please," she begged quietly.

Jesus Christ! The woman thought he was going to kill her. Eliot almost felt insulted; he wasn't some creep who killed women for fun, even if they had intended to rob him blind. The people he hurt deserved the pain, and as far as he could tell, Jessie, Samantha, or whatever her name was, didn't hurt anything more than some bank accounts. Considering what he and the team did for a living, he could hardly punish her for that. Sure, she had tried to rob him, and he didn't take kindly to being robbed, but he still wouldn't hurt her.

Panic turned to confusion as Jessie's restraints were undone. Her body screamed run! But she was frozen in place. She noticed that she was wearing her dress, though she was sure she'd gone to sleep naked. He dressed me? What kind of killer is this guy? As if reading her thoughts, Eliot spoke softly, just barely holding her wrists, "I ain't gonna hurt you." He rolled his eyes, as if the suggestion was ridiculous. Somehow she found herself believing him, not resisting when he sat across from her, massaging her sore wrists. "Then what do you want?" she asked warily.

"Answers. The truth, preferably." Eliot gave her an easy grin, trying to calm her down. She looked much younger than she had the night before, all nervous and wild eyed, and he found himself needing to reassure her. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead already." No, that wasn't the right thing to say, if the frantic look on Jessie's face was any indication. Sighing, he released her wrists, knowing she wouldn't run. "I didn't mean it like… I just mean I ain't gonna hurt you. I just wanna know why you thought I'd be such an easy mark."

Shaking her head, Jessie laughed shakily. "Didn't think you, well I didn't really think at all. I just thought you were cute." At Eliot's slightly outraged look, she amended, "Handsome, I thought you were handsome, ruggedly handsome!" He just smirked at her. Oh my god, he's actually enjoying this! And I'm the screwed up one? A wave of desire caught her off guard, considering the situation. Ok, maybe I am the screwed up one. Blushing, she finished her story, "It doesn't usually go that far. I knock them out, take the cash and I'm gone. They never see me again."

Eliot chuckled at Jessie's blush. She actually was pretty adorable, even if it was an act. But he didn't think it was. He'd worked with Sophie long enough to know a professional, and this girl was amateur. Still, she'd bested him, so that gave him cause for consideration. He decided it didn't much matter. He had no desire to stop her fun. Then a thought occurred he didn't like at all. What if she picked the wrong mark again? What if she picked somebody like him, or someone who might not be so forgiving? Worse yet, why did he care?

"Jessie's my middle name!" she blurted out, unexpected to both herself and Eliot. He looked at her with an odd look in his eyes, as if he was trying to work a particularly hard equation out. Awkward. "Sorry," she mumbled, "Just thought you should know it wasn't a complete lie. Not entirely." He continued to stare at her, but not really at her, lost in thought. Alright, it really is time to go. But then he was kissing her, and she was kissing back, and nothing made sense, if it ever had to begin with. Strangest. Mark. Ever. No contest.

He hadn't meant to kiss her, but couldn't pull away once he started. Jessie responded in an instant, and he didn't care what he meant to do. When the need for air presented itself, Eliot used all his self constraint to stop himself from reenacting the night before. Jessie looked at him, startled, but not unhappy. A shock of shyness crept into Eliot's mind, which was absurd when he thought about the things they'd done last night, but this kiss had felt different. It made him feel vulnerable, something the hitter was not accustomed to. He didn't care for it.

Why did he kiss me? "Why did you kiss me?" Jessie demanded of Eliot, all the while tracing her fingers over his arms. He shrugged, not sure how to respond. "Didn't really think it through." His voice was soft and gravelly all at once. The combination was not unpleasant. He grabbed her hands from their caressing, holding them under his on the bed between them. "You shouldn't con people like this. Not because it's wrong, I don't give a damn about right or wrong. There's just too many crazies out there, and I don't want you getting hurt, or killed."

The uncomfortable vulnerable feeling reared again as Jessie appraised him, a disbelieving look on her face. "You don't even know me. What gives you the right to tell me how to live my life? I've done just fine until now. Besides, I'm never going to see you again, so what does it matter?" As she said the words, they became real. Eliot pulled his hands away, defenses firmly back in place. She was right. She wasn't his problem, and he'd never see her again. Nodding briskly, he stood and grabbed his jacket. It was time to end this bizarre experience.

Wait! Don't go! Eliot. But the words wouldn't leave her mouth. Instead, Jessie crossed her arms in front of her, glaring defiantly as Eliot checked for all his belongings and walked out, slamming the door behind him. She sighed. Well, what did you expect Jess? Did you think the guy you tried to rip off would stick around? Or what? Sweep you in his arms and carry you off into the sunset? You're a damn fool. A damn stubborn fool. And now you got to move on. Jessie shook her head clear; these internal conversations were becoming far too frequent.

It took Eliot a week before cracking. He tried to forget about her, but he couldn't stop seeing those eyes as he tried to sleep. After a week of denial, he did the unthinkable and confessed everything to the one person who could help, Hardison. Hardison was giddy with the thought of tracking someone down, it'd been too long since he'd run a full search on a non job-related person. He probably deserved the smack to his head he received from Eliot after he made a comment about Eliot needing a certain type of "job," but seriously, it had hurt!

Jessie scanned the small bar in Reno, but all she found were problems. Too old, too sober, eyes just a little too close to that certain shade of blue she still dreamed of. It had been two weeks, but she couldn't stop thinking about him. She needed closure; things between them had been left too scrambled and confused. Giving up for the night, she walked out of the bar, not even hearing the cat-calls of potential marks as they watched her leave. The air was brisk for the region, and she shivered. Then she heard that voice, "Cold there, darlin'?"

She looked surprised, but hell, so was Eliot. He didn't track down people unless he planned to hurt them. But he didn't want to hurt her. Instead, he slipped off his jacket and approached Jessie, wrapping it around her. She thanked him, automatically, but still looked dazed. Never good with words, Eliot settled for kissing her suddenly, trying to say everything at once. His jacket fell to the ground as she wrapped her arms around him, kissing back in a way he swore should be illegal. Eliot grinned even as he realized Hardison would never let him live this down.

The plane ride back home was interesting, to say the least. He hadn't meant to, but Eliot found himself telling her almost everything. She knew what he did, what he was, what the team did, but she didn't run screaming like he expected. Instead, Jessie relaxed into his hold and told him her story, starting at age 15 and ending here, thirteen years later. When she was done Eliot felt shaken, which unnerved him. She was as messed up as him. But there was more to her than a petty thief, and maybe there was more to him than violence.

A week later, Eliot took her to the office for the first time, praying the team wouldn't be too weird. Sophie saw them first and squealed in delight, grinning like a fool at the couple and commenting on how beautiful Jessie was. Eliot just raised an eyebrow. Nate was next, tea in hand. It was still hard to believe he quit drinking, but it was a good disbelief. He appraised Jessie briefly, and then smiled kindly. "Welcome," he offered, handing her a teacup of her own. She declined, "but another time, definitely." Nate nodded, "Alright then," and that was that.

Hardison was conspicuously absent from the office. Eliot wasn't sure why, but the idea of not knowing where Hardison was made him nervous, though he'd never admit it. He did know however, this wouldn't escape the sarcastic hacker. It was only a matter of time. Parker was last. She approached Jessie and smiled sweetly, introduced herself and shook her hand. Eliot wondered idly if Sophie had coached her. Later that night, Jessie commented that his whole family was nice, but Parker was her favorite. And Eliot laughed, knowing this was probably the beginning of trouble, but the very best kind.

The End