A/N – So this came as a request from Mad Hatter Helsing. She wanted baby fic. I did my best. Schmoop ahead! With a bit of a rocky start, but hey, schmoop!

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"Guys? Can anyone still hear me? Guys!"

A shrill piercing noise fills the space around Nate's comm, making him clutch his ear in pain and surprise. He pulls the offending bud out of his ear just in time to see a thin line of smoke trailing from it as the shrieking finally stops.

"Goddammit," Nate curses, testing the fried comm, unsurprised when it doesn't so much as flicker with static.

He looks around the seemingly deserted apartment complex, trying to decide which of the identical brick buildings to search first. Years ago, the buildings had been the city's attempt at low-income housing, a solution to the dichotomy between poverty and good living conditions. But now, all that's left of the neighborhood is liquor stores, pawn shops, and a few scattered families too stubborn to leave the crumbling ghetto they call home.

The complex is more than it appears, Nate knows, weeks of the team's research and surveillance prove the fact. He sighs, thinking back to his argument with Sophie about taking this job to begin with.

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"We're not dealing with the Russians again, Sophie! Last time, Hardison nearly got killed!"

Sophie scoffed, "That was only because he oversold the bit. And besides, it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

"It only worked out because Parker is good at what she does."

"She's the best at what she does, Nate, but that's not the point."

"There is no point, Soph. We aren't dealing with the Russians again!"

"Nate," Sophie sighed, "I know this man, his reputation, his... methods. If these girls are disappearing because of him, well, I can only imagine what they must be going through."

"Sophie..." Nate had trailed, already knowing he was losing.

"Every one of these women is somebody's little girl, Nate, think about that. And this monster is in our town, right under our noses! Are we," she paused, "are you going to let him get away with God knows what, in your home?"

Nate sighed again, but reached for his phone anyway.

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"Sophie?" Eliot calls out as loudly as he dares, as he walks silently down the basement stairs.

"Here!" she calls back, from across the darkened room.

She's hovering over a brightly dressed small group, three women and two men, all no older than 20, and all definitely strung out on something. They look up at him in unison as he approaches, and Eliot can't help but gasp at the feral look in all five sets of eyes.

"What?" he begins to ask, but Sophie shakes her head and interrupts.

"Later," she waves her hand and gestures for the group to follow them, "Let's get them out of here first."

Eliot nods as he takes stock of the group. Two petite blonde girls cling to each other, in fear or relief, Eliot can't tell, but he does recognize the way they're eying him with interest, and for once, it makes him incredibly uncomfortable.

The tall boy with bruises on his face is busy rutting against the dark haired girl who's wrapped herself around him, moaning into his touch.

The other boy, a slight thing with a shock of red hair and bright blue eyes, sits against the wall, clutching his knees, saying nothing.

Eliot sighs and pulls the boy up, practically carrying him as they all make their way out.

"I thought there were fifteen prisoners," Eliot whispers to Sophie, even though he's pretty sure the others aren't paying attention.

Sophie looks at him for a long moment before dropping her voice, and her gaze, "There were."

Eliot doesn't respond. Sometimes there are just no words.

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Hardison pants harshly as his legs finally give out, and he drops to the ground.

"Get up!" Parker demands, pulling ineffectively at Hardison's arm.

"Just need to breathe for a minute," he insists, "My heart won't stop racing."

"It's the drugs," Parker explains, still pulling on his arm, "We were exposed to whatever they were pumping into the air for the prisoners."

Hardison looks up, frightened, "You mean the drugs that killed fifteen people in an underground prison that we just barely escaped from, run by crazy ass Russians who more than likely know my face?"

Parker shrugs, "Pretty much."

Hardison takes a deep breath, "We need to get out of here. OK, help me up."

"Been trying to," Parker says as she rolls her eyes.

It's then that Hardison notices the state of her. Glazed eyes, flushed skin, ragged breath.

"Parker?" he asks, swallowing around the sudden tension between them.

She looks down at where her hand grasps his arm, seemingly fixated on the sight.

"It smells sweet," she says, dazedly, "For poison, I mean. The air smells sweet. I think it's still around us. Maybe from the vents, or..."

She trails off in confusion, having trouble focusing on anything other than where her skin meets Hardison's.

"We have to get out of here," Hardison says again, but his pupils are blown and he knows she isn't even hearing the words.

He tries to pull his arm away, but only succeeds in pulling Parker down. His head hits the ground with a dull thud as she lands atop him, but he doesn't feel it. The air is hot and sweet around them, and Parker is sprawled over him, seemingly determined to claw off his shirt.

He knows it's not the best circumstance for this, and his conscience wars with his drug addled body. But then Parker pauses to kiss him soundly, and it's even sweeter than the air around them.

He stops fighting.

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Six to Eight Weeks Later

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"Come on, Eliot!" Parker whines, following Eliot into Nate's kitchen, poking him repeatedly in the shoulder.

"Parker!" Eliot exclaims, "I am not your personal chef. And even if I was, there's no way in hell I'd make you anything involving Fritos and mustard!"

"But El-iot," Parker pouts, "That's what I want. Please?"

"No," he insists, "that's just gross. Go eat your cereal or something."

To his surprise, Parker's eyes well up with tears as she responds, "I don't want cereal."

"What? Are.. are you crying?" Eliot asks, immediately concerned.

He only gets a foot closer before Parker is glaring at him and covering her nose with both hands.

"How much cologne do you need?" she gasps, turning an unhealthy shade of white.

Eliot's startled, "I'm not even wearing..."

But Parker is already gone, running toward the bathroom with more grace than one should have while fighting off impending sickness.

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Eliot stands in the kitchen for a long moment. Nate and Sophie are in living room, bickering about the details on some new case. Hardison is dozing on the couch, covered by an afghan Eliot knows Nate didn't buy. He blames Sophie. He knows she'd say something about warming the office up during the cold months, and Nate would argue that she's trying to change his home, not the office. She'd smile sweetly and say something witty that Eliot wouldn't catch. He usually tunes out by that point in the argument. Hardison wouldn't care either way, because afghans are warm, and he likes to be warm when he naps. Eliot envies such simplicity sometimes, the relatively uncomplicated happiness that Hardison takes from something as small as having a warm afghan.

It hits him all at once, shaking him out of his tangent of thoughts.

Eliot stares after Parker, now closed behind the bathroom door, then over to Hardison, sleeping soundly, then back to the closed door. He feels bizarrely like he's trapped in some bad British sitcom, but nobody is laughing.

"Sophie!" he calls out as he hears the toilet flush distantly, "We have a problem!"

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"Don't be ridiculous," Parker scoffs, glaring at the others from her place in the impromptu circle they've formed around her.

"I know it might be hard to accept," Sophie tries, reaching out to pat Parker's arm.

Parker shrugs her hand off, "Sophie. I'm not pregnant. It's not possible. It's just a stomach bug."

"How long has this bug been going on?" Nate asks, and Parker is unnerved by the gentleness of his voice.

"A couple of weeks," she shrugs, "It's not a big deal."

"It really kind of is," Eliot says, still sounding a little overwhelmed.

"I'm not pregnant!" Parker says again, exasperated.

"Parker."

They all look to Hardison as he speaks. The seriousness on his face is jarring.

"Parker," he says again, fixing his gaze on hers, ignoring the rest of the group.

"No," she says again, but it's less of a denial this time, more of a plea.

Hardison moves closer, taking her hands in his own.

"It was only once," Parker whispers, blinking back tears, again. She curses quietly at herself, hating how much she's been crying lately.

Hardison shrugs, "That's all it takes." He gives her a little smile when she laughs at the statement.

"Well, fuck."

The moment is broken as they all turn at Eliot's exclamation.

"What?" he says, raising his hands in defense, "Just.. I mean.. well, fuck! This is a big deal."

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Somehow, the statement breaks the tension in the room, and they all visibly relax, just a bit.

"You should go to the doctor, just to be sure," Sophie suggests.

Parker nods, "Alright," she looks at Hardison again, then down to their joint hands as she mumbles. "Will you come with me?"

Hardison's face splits with a grin as he laughs, "Of course I will, mama."

He gasps a second after he says it, cringing at the new implication of the nickname, but Parker just shrugs.

"I guess I will be."

She smiles up at him, and Hardison lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

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They're sitting in his car after the appointment, silently. Hardison's never done well with silence.

"So," he begins.

"So," Parker repeats.

Hardison turns his head and smiles softly at Parker's still flat stomach as he reaches to trace his fingers over it.

"There's really a baby in there, huh?"

Parker frowns, "It's just a blob. Not even a real baby yet."

Hardison pulls his hand away and takes a deep breath, bracing himself for the conversation he's about to begin.

"Parker," he says, uncharacteristically solemn. She turns her head to look at him as he continues.

"You need to know that I'm here for you."

"I know," Parker interrupts, but Hardison isn't finished.

"No," he says, "I need you to know this. All of it. I'm here for you, no matter what you want to do."

"Hardison.." Parker tries again, but Hardison's determined to get this out.

"If you want to get married, I'm here for you. If you want to run away, I'm here for you. If you decide you can't be a mother, I'll raise the baby alone, and I'll never bother you again. And if you decide," his voice cracks a little at the thought, "if you decide that you can't have a baby, God, I'll hate that, but I'll still be here. For you. Always."

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He's not sure what he expects after his speech, but it definitely isn't the armful of crying Parker he gets a moment later.

"Hey, hey, Parker, hey now, it'll be alright. Please don't cry."

Parker sniffs and pulls away, wiping her face roughly with her hands.

"I can't help it! Everything is making me cry lately. Sophie says it's hormones. I don't like it."

Hardison chuckles, "It's perfectly normal. Just takes some getting used to, is all."

"I'm kind of scared," Parker says, brow crinkling as if it actually pains her to admit it.

He strokes his thumb across the tear track on her cheek, smoothing away the remaining moisture.

"Hey, I'm scared too. But we'll be OK It's not like we have to deal with this alone. We have the team. Sophie's probably designing a nursery in her head already."

Parker snorts, "She asked me how I felt about an Au Pair. I don't even know what that is."

"Pretty sure it's French for 'really expensive nanny,'" Hardison laughs.

"Our baby isn't going to be raised by some French nanny. Eliot'd probably sleep with her anyway. I'm not trusting our baby to some French slut!"

Hardison wants to laugh at Parker's outrage, but he's too caught up on her earlier words.

"Our baby," he repeats, unable to keep the grin from his face.

"Oh, shut up," Parker rolls her eyes, "This doesn't mean we're getting married or anything. We had sex. Once. Because we were drugged out of our minds. And now we're going to have a baby."

"I know," Hardison says, serious again, "I'm not expecting anything from you. I told you, I'll wait as long as you need. Even if it's forever."

Parker smiles sadly, "Forever is a long time."

Hardison shrugs, "For you, I'll wait. It's as simple as that."

He starts the car up before Parker can respond, and she smiles, accepting the statement for what it is.

They drive below the speed limit all the way home.

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The weeks fly by, and before they know it Parker is five months along, with a beautifully rounded belly that she swears is growing by inches each day.

"My harness won't fit anymore," she says one day, pouting.

They're all gathered at Nate's, researching potential jobs, especially jobs that wont require Parker to crawl through any tight spaces or get shot at.

Nate finds the limits to be annoying constrictive.

"Good," Eliot says, speaking around a mouthful of stuffed mushroom.

Sophie makes an expression of disgust but nods along anyway.

"He's right, Parker," she agrees, "You won't be using it anytime soon."

"Four more months," Parker grouses, patting her belly gently as she looks down, "Then it'll be you and me, kiddo, soaring."

Four groans fill the air, but it's Hardison who speaks up.

"You can't take a baby when you leap off buildings, mama."

"She'll have a helmet!' Parker protests, "And look, I made a little baby harness for her already. It'll hook right onto mine. She'll be perfectly safe."

"No. Way. In. Hell." Hardison replies, torn between annoyance and amusement.

"Wait," Sophie cuts in, "You're having a girl? Parker! Why didn't you tell us?"

Parker frowns, "I forgot. I thought Hardison was gonna tell you guys."

"I thought you were telling them," Hardison says, shrugging.

"A girl," Sophie says again, a soft smile on her face, "She's going to be so beautiful."

"She's gonna be a fucking ninja," Eliot says, snorting. At Parker's scathing look, he amends, "A pretty pretty ninja."

Parker grins, appeased. Hardison just rolls his eyes.

Nate looks around at his band of thieves and shakes his head silently, fighting the smile that tugs at his mouth.

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They set up the nursery at Hardison's apartment, as even Parker admits that a storage unit isn't the best place for a baby.

Little by little, the bare room turns into a real nursery. It begins when Eliot shows up one day, avoiding eye contact as he hauls in a cherry-wood rocking chair, stopping only to give Parker's belly a quick pat and a small smile before practically running out the door.

The chair is a thing of beauty, all smooth lines and shiny finish. Hardison ponders aloud where Eliot found it, but Parker just grins as she notes the feathers etched lightly into the wood. But she keeps her thoughts to herself. It's OK for friends to share secrets sometimes, and she and Eliot are friends. This can be their little secret.

Sophie is next, dragging Nate with her, determined to decorate the rest of the room. The walls are transformed from the bare white to a soft yellow, trimmed with dashes of greens and purples, giving the whole room a cheerful appearance.

Hardison buys the most expensive crib he can find, ignoring Parker's insistence that she could have stolen it in less time than it took him to put it together.

Nate shows up one day with a beat up cardboard box, and locks himself away in the nursery for several minutes. When he finally opens the door, he mutters something about a meeting and excuses himself from the apartment.

"What is with the men in this group and the fleeing?" Parker thinks aloud, causing matching snorts of amusement from Sophie and Hardison.

"You're a man, too, dumbass," Eliot feels the need to remind Hardison.

"He got me pregnant, we all know he's a man," Parker says as she rolls her eyes.

Hardison just smirks at Eliot.

"Oh!" Sophie calls out from the nursery, where she had wandered after Nate's hasty exit.

The other three follow the sound, curious.

"Oh," three awed voices speak in unison as they see what Nate has done.

Hanging above the crib is a mobile made of stars. Hardison flicks the lights off and they all watch in wonder as the stars glow and rotate slowly in time to melodic music.

"I know this mobile," Hardison says, forehead crinkling in thought as he tries to place where he's seen it.

"It was his son's," Sophie supplies, softly, "I can't believe he kept it all these years."

"How do you.." Eliot begins.

"Photographs," Sophie answers the unfinished question.

Parker sniffles softly, blushing when Hardison just smiles at her.

"Stupid hormones," shes says, moving to sit in the rocking chair, "I'm tired."

"We'll let you rest, then," Sophie says, grabbing Eliot by the arm and tugging him forward.

"Rest," Eliot orders Parker, kindly, before fixing his gaze on her belly, "You too, little ninja."

"Out," Hardison demands, but he's grinning.

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When Eliot and Sophie finally leave, Hardison half carries the yawning Parker into the guest room, soon to be her room and tucks her in as much as she'll allow.

"Two more months," Parker says sleepily, grasping Hardison's hand before he can walk away. "Stay with me for a while?"

"Of course," Hardison replies, yawning widely.

"It's contagious," Parker laughs, "Come on, let's sleep."

Hardison drops to the bed gracelessly, but settles in after a moment, lying on his back.

When Parker reaches for his hand, he doesn't say a word, as much as he wants to. He just threads his fingers through hers and lets their combined breathing lull him into sleep.

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"It's too early!"

Parker's cry wakes Hardison up with a start. He's never heard Parker sound so panicked before, and it chills him to the bone.

He runs to her room but she meets him in the hall; he barely has time to skid to a stop before they collide.

"What's going on?" he asks, his own panic rising.

"The baby is coming, and it's too early!" Parker says, visibly shaking.

Something inside Hardison snaps, and he feels a sense of calm wash over his entire body, as if the world itself depends on him keeping his cool. He wonders vaguely if this is how Eliot feels before the impossible fights.

"It's going to be alright, mama," he soothes. "We're gonna get you to the hospital, and we're going to have our baby girl. It's only three weeks early, it'll be just fine."

Parker just nods, allowing Hardison to manhandle her out of the apartment. Her panics recedes a little as Hardison takes her hand, anchoring her. She trusts him.

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The June air is still warm at half past ten, but Hardison barely notices as he gets Parker into the hospital. What follows is a blur of activity he'll only ever half remember, but he knows he stopped long enough to text Eliot that it was time.

The others show up less than a half hour later, looking anxious and eager for news. With Hardison in the room with Parker, all they can do is wait.

Nearly an hour later, Hardison finally enters the waiting room, with the widest grin they've ever seen on his face.

"She's here," he says, "She's here, and she's healthy, and she's perfect."

Three sighs of relief sound. She's finally there.

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"Give me back my baby," Parker demands of Sophie, who's busy cooing at the baby from Parker's rocking chair.

"I only just got her," Sophie says, giving Parker her best doe eyes.

Parker just raises an eyebrow. Barely a week home from the hospital, and Sophie's fairly confident that Parker could kick her ass with minimal effort.

Sophie sighs and stands, relinquishing the squirming bundle to Parker.

Parker takes Sophie's place in the chair, rocking the now sleeping baby gently.

Nate leans against the door frame, watching but not intruding. Hardison and Eliot are busy installing what looks to be the world's most complicated alarm system around the room.

"So, did you two finally settle on a name?" Eliot asks, "As much as I like calling her ninja, I think she'll need a real name."

Hardison grins, "Actually, man, you helped us make that decision."

"Oh?" Sophie asks, looking over with interest.

"Yep," Parker replies, "We ended up really liking ninja, so that's what we named her."

"You named your child Ninja?" Nate can't help but ask. Even for Parker and Hardison, that is strange.

"Not exactly," Hardison replies, laughing, "We named her Nina Jane." He shrugs, "It's close enough, and we weren't agreeing on anything else."

"Harlee is a stupid name," Parker insists.

"Parker Jr. is no better," Hardison counters.

"I like it," Eliot announces, "Nina, I mean." He moves to kneel by the chair, brushing his fingers over Nina's silky head.

Dark curls of hair cover her little head, and she turns into Eliot's touch. Her eyes blink open, fixing a pale blue gaze onto Eliot's. He know her eyes will probably darken, but he bets that they'll end up hazel, like Parker's.

He grins down at her, not even caring when Parker teases him.

"Aw, look at that, Nina. Uncle Eliot is just a big ol' softie."

"Shut up," he replies, growling halfheartedly.

"Do you wanna hold her?" Parker asks.

Eliot looks up with an almost shy smile.

"Sure."

He moves to sit more comfortably on the floor, and lets Parker place the baby gently into his arms.

He just stares at her for a moment, getting used to the unfamiliar weight of her tiny body. When he finally looks back up at Parker, the expression on his face can only be described as wonder-struck.

"She's so little," he says, smiling back at the baby when he little fist bats at his hair, unable to get a good grip, yet.

"She'll grow," Nate speaks from the doorway, "Before you know it. Time will fly."

The others just nod, content in enjoying the moment at hand for now.

"OK, everyone out," Hardison finally says, "Baby and mama need their rest."

Eliot reluctantly goes to hand Nina back to Parker but she shakes her head and motions to the crib. He places her down as softly as he can and brushes his fingers over her hair one last time. She's asleep before he pulls his hand away.

They say their goodbyes, leaving Parker and Hardison to sneak out of the nursery and collapse onto Hardison's bed, exhausted.

Parker's insisted on staying with Hardison since she got back from the hospital, and although Hardison wants to ask questions, wants to know what this means, if anything, he holds back. He's too afraid to push her away.

But like with most things Parker related, she's three steps ahead, when he didn't even know they were racing.

He barely registers her moving until she's lying on her side, face to face with him.

"What?" Hardison starts to ask, but he's cut off by her lips on his.

Needless to say, he goes with it.

"I still don't want to get married," Parker says, a hint of defiance in her voice.

Hardison can only laugh.

"What do you want?"

Parker shrugs, but answers honestly. "I want this. You and me, and Nina. I want you to stay with us, and love us, forever."

Hardison can't help but tease, "Forever is a long time."

Parker rolls her eyes and gives him a fond smile.

"But you do love me, right? You'll stay?"

"Try and stop me," Hardison replies, even as he fights against his drooping eyelids.

"I might," Parker says, seriously, "I might try to push you away. Even though I love you. I'm not very good at this."

"You love me, huh?" Hardison asks, hoping he hasn't already fallen asleep.

"Yep," Parker nods, yawning again, "You're stuck with me now. Forever, remember?"

Hardison doesn't respond with words, he just curls up behind Parker, burying his face in her sweet smelling hair.

Parker can feel his lips curve against her skin, and when she drifts asleep moments later, a matching smile adorns her face.

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THE END