Brief Author's Note: I don't normally ship these two, like ever. But this story came to me one day and I thought it would be an entertaining and fun little oneshot for those who like the Eliot/Parker pairing. So, enjoy. :) Also, there is sex, just FYI.

.~~~~~~~.

Know Your Enemy/The Birthday Job

.~~~~~~~.

Eliot came awake slowly, trying to keep the pounding in his head at bay. All he remembered from last night was that Parker had insisted on a drinking contest because it was his birthday and that's just what friends do. He'd known it was a bad idea from the get go and the massive jackhammer in his head only confirmed that sentiment. Blinking away the blurriness from his eyes, he cursed.

"Damn it, Parker," he growled under his breath.

"Hmm. What?" Parker sat up straight next to him.

He found himself staring at a very naked Parker. In his bed. "Fuck."

She just looked at him, a knowing smirk on her face.

Turning red, he forced himself to look away, cradling his head in his hands as his migraine hit with full force.

"You'll be okay, Sparky," Parker placed a cool hand on his bare back.

He tensed, his jaw clenching. "Parker."

She removed her hand and scooted up next to him. He chanced a quick glance and was relieved to see that she'd at least had the decency to pull the sheet around her. As he looked at her, he was struck by how calm she was by the whole situation. Waking up naked next to a coworker who hadn't expressed any obvious feelings should have shocked any normal person. Then again, it was Parker.

"How-" he began.

"Two, no, I think almost three bottles of tequila," she said simply. "And a whole lotta salt. But I don't remember who won."

"Won what?"

"The contest," she stared at him as though he should remember what she was referring to, "Who could drink the most tequila before passing out."

Eliot grimaced. Sounded like a logical Parker game.

"Maybe Hardison knows who won," she said, jumping to her feet and heading for the door, "I'll go ask him."

"Parker!" Eliot sounded a bit more frantic than he'd intended.

The thief stopped, hand on the door knob, and looked back at him.

"Clothes, Parker."

She looked down at herself and then back at him. "Oh. Right."

Grabbing a shirt and pants off a chair, she pulled them on quickly before continuing her dash out the door.

"That's my shirt." Eliot muttered as the door swung shut.

He growled out a sigh and stood up slowly, supporting himself against the wall as the room spun around him. As much as he loved drinking and he could never say no to a good competition, he hated hangovers and the uncoordinated and incapacitated way they made him feel. He was going to pay for this all day.

Reaching for his jeans, he managed to put one leg on before the pain in his head sent him reeling back onto the bed. Damn Parker and her sweet talking brown eyes. With a grunt, he pulled on his other pant leg and stood back up. He just had to get some coffee and he'd be fine.

"Hey, Eliot!" Hardison's voice came from the other side of the door.

Eliot walked slowly into the living room of his apartment. "What, Hardison?"

"Mm-hmm. That's what I thought." Hardison looked Eliot up and down. "I get it."

Eliot looked at him, a bit angry and confused and still entirely hungover. "What?"

"You. Parker."

"Damn it, Hardison!" Eliot glared at him, "Nothing happened, alright?"

Parker looked at Hardison, then at Eliot, then back at Hardison. "Yeah, uh, nothing at all," she paused, "Right?"

Eliot glanced at her as he started his coffee maker. "You don't remember?

"Do you?" She countered.

"Wait, hold up, hold up." Hardison chuckled, "You two wake up together, she's wearing your shirt, you're… are you making coffee, man?"

"Hardison…" Eliot muttered the threat just loud enough for Hardison to hear.

The hacker cleared his throat nervously. "Okay, seriously, though. Neither of you fools remember what went down last night?"

Eliot shook his head, grabbing a knife and beginning to chop an onion.

"Nope." Parker grabbed a bowl from Eliot's cupboard and poured herself some cereal.

Eliot's eyes narrowed slightly. "Parker, really? I'm about to make breakfast." Gently pushing her out of the kitchen, he pointed the knife at her, "And you're still wearing my shirt."

Parker set her bowl down, locking eyes with Eliot as she started to pull off the shirt.

"What, no," the hitter quickly looked away, "Parker, not here!"

Smirking, she kept the shirt on and picked up her bowl, taking a bite of her dry cereal.

"You guys drank nearly three whole bottles of tequila," Hardison held up an empty bottle.

Eliot didn't look up from where he was whisking eggs in a mixing bowl.

"We don't know who won," Parker stated.

The hacker shook his head, "You'll have to remember that one your own self."

"What are you doing here anyway, man?" Eliot asked, irritation clear in his voice.

Hardison took a seat on a barstool, "Slept on your couch," he offered simply.

Eliot stared. "You slept on my couch while me and Parker…?" His voice trailed off and he turned back to his cooking. He didn't want to think about how awkward it was that Hardison had most likely overheard him and Parker probably having sex.

Hardison grinned, "Yeah, anywho. Nate called. We got a client."

Eliot paused his cooking to take a sip of coffee. "No," he shook his head, biting back a wince as the motion made his vision blur, "No jobs today."

"You got too much of a hangover going on there, huh?"

The hitter just glared.

"Right," Hardison leaned forward slightly, "So, some of that omelet gonna be for me?"

"Uh-uh. This is for me," Eliot sipped his coffee, "And Parker."

Parker smiled, "Smells good."

Eliot smiled back as he plated an omelet and handed it to her, "Here. Eat."

"Alright," Hardison looked back and forth between the other two, "I guess you two will eat and then we'll go to the office?"

"Yep." Parker said cheerily.

The hacker stood from his stool, "I'll uh, just go wait in Lucille then."

Eliot watched Hardison leave the apartment and let out a long sigh. "I'm not going."

"Sure you are, Sparky." Parker leaned over the counter toward him. "We'll have fun. Saving people, you know."

"How are you always so damn cheerful?" He flipped a second omelet in the frying pan.

"I remember everything from last night," she winked at him.

"Damn it." Unceremoniously dumping his omelet on a plate, he took it as he walked toward the bedroom. "I'm taking a shower. Give me back my shirt!" The last statement was shouted from the other room.

Eliot took a quick, very cold shower and stepped out into his room, towel wrapped around his hips. He did a double take when he saw Parker perched on the end of his bed, dressed in her own clothes again.

"Thought you left."

She shook her head. "I've got your shirt." She held it out to him with a smile. "Thanks for letting me borrow it."

"Sure." He grabbed clean clothes, deciding to change in his bathroom since Parker was obviously a little too comfortable in the rest of his apartment.

.~~~~~~~.

As Eliot, Parker and Hardison walked into the office, they were immediately met with Sophie.

"So, Parker, who won?"

"Damn it, does everyone know what happened?" Eliot sat down with a thud and a wince in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

Parker shrugged a shoulder at Sophie's question. "Not sure. I think it was a tie."

"What was a tie?" Nate walked into the room, sipping coffee.

"Oh for the love of…" Eliot glared in everyone's direction. "Can we just get to this please?"

"Gee, someone's grouchy this morning," Sophie sat next to Eliot.

"He's hungover," Parker said.

"I am not!" Eliot objected.

Nate looked at him. "Eliot, do you need to sit this one out?"

"No," he growled, "I'm fine."

"Alright," Nate sat with the others, "Hardison, run it."

Hardison stood in front of the giant TV screens and began explaining their latest gig.

Eliot only half listened, focusing his attention on keeping his migraine at bay. The coffee and breakfast had helped but the incessant conversation and the numerous bright screens weren't doing him any good. He looked at Parker, watching her as she intently listened to what Hardison was saying. How could she not have any effects from that much drinking? The girl really was inhuman.

"Eliot."

Nate's voice broke through Eliot's thoughts.

"Yeah."

"Are you ready to do this?"

"'Course."

Nate nodded. "Alright. Let's go steal a cruise."

"Wait."

The others were getting up from their seats and beginning to gather what they needed. Parker looked at him.

"We're going on a cruise?" Eliot looked around, confused.

"You weren't paying attention." Parker stated. "We're sort of hijacking a cruise ship while it's in port at Astoria."

Eliot nodded. "Why?"

"Drug and people smuggling."

Eliot's eyes narrowed. Parker knew how he felt about trafficking, especially the human kind.

"Let's go then."

The thief smiled and followed him out the door.

.~~~~~~~.

Eliot arrived at the docks first. He had to scout it out, make sure it was safe for the rest of the team. Everything seemed normal, as far as cruise ships were concerned. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

"Ready when you are, Nate."

"Copy that." Nate replied over the comms. "Let's go, people."

Eliot watched dockside as Nate and Sophie, dressed appropriately as tourists, entered the ship by the main ramp. Hardison and Parker followed as waitstaff.

"How come I gotta be the damn ship security guy?" Eliot growled, adjusting his uniform.

"We've been over this, man," Hardison responded, "We all got our niche. Yours is to beat people up. You know that was the only way to logically get you in."

"Yeah, whatever." Eliot boarded the ship and made his way down, toward where Parker had told him the hold was.

"Just remember," Hardison's voice began to crackle, "The commas only go so far in this giant heap of metal."

"Keep an eye out, Eliot," Nate's voice fizzled out as Eliot descended into the supply and maintenance area of the ship.

"Damn comms." Eliot muttered under his breath. He looked around. So far nothing seemed too unusually protected. Typical hired guards with the common sense of field mice. His head was still pounding and he glared at the two men standing guard next to a doorway. They would be no problem to take out when the time came.

A noise sounded behind him and he whipped around only to be met with a fist to his face. He fell back against the wall, head reeling. Five men were in front of him, dressed in similar uniforms as the other guards. By their stance he knew these were military and not American.

"Bring it," Eliot growled in Russian.

The men looked at each other, seemingly surprised. Eliot grinned and wiped the blood from his lip; he'd guessed correctly as usual.

One of the Russians charged at him and Eliot took him out with a quick right hook to the jaw. The Russian went down with a thud. Four left, he could totally take them. Suddenly the remaining Russians charged all at once. Eliot defended an attack from the one on the right, striking him in the stomach and again in the face. That Russian went down and Eliot finished him with a kick to the chest. A harsh blow from behind knocked Eliot forward and onto one knee. Before Eliot could react, another blow struck him on his side and he fell over, barely catching himself with one hand.

Eliot kicked his leg out at one of the remaining Russians, catching the man off guard and knocking him back. The fourth Russian gave Eliot a swift kick in the ribs while the hitter was still down. Eliot felt a crunch in his chest. He coughed, spitting blood. Now he was pissed. He lurched to his feet and lunged at the fourth Russian, taking him down in a tackle and punching him full force, knocking him out. Eliot turned to face the fifth and final Russian, brushing hair from his face.

The last Russian's face contorted into an evil grimace. "That was my brother." He spat in a thick accent.

"Too bad." Eliot grinned through bloodied teeth. "He's the good looking one."

With an angry yell, the Russian charged at Eliot, who side-stepped and swung, his fist making contact with the Russian's head with a distinct crack. The blow didn't faze the Russian in the slightest, in fact it seemed to only rile him even more. He whirled on Eliot, making a connecting blow to the hitter's jaw and his already injured ribs in an instant. Eliot bent over, gasping for breath through the pain in his chest and head. He rammed into the Russian's gut with his shoulder, knocking the other man back against the ship wall.

Eliot landed three quick jabs to the Russian's torso and a hard fourth to his jaw. The Russian grunted and swung halfheartedly toward Eliot's head before crumpling into a limp pile at the hitter's feet. Eliot straightened, tossing hair from his face and gently touching the bloody cut above his eye.

A blow to the back of his head sent Eliot staggering into the metal wall of the ship. He turned to see the other two guards he'd spotted before. His eyes could hardly focus, the two guards looked like four.

"The hell." He cursed, trying to shake the blurriness from his vision.

He made an attempt to dodge a swing from the first guard only to catch a hard fist to the gut from the second. Gasping for breath, Eliot grunted, gritting his teeth against the pain as the two guards laid into him. His head was still swimming, he couldn't concentrate, and his level of control was all but gone.

One of the guards swung hard for Eliot's chest and in a split second Eliot caught the fist in his hands. Bones crunched and the guard screamed in pain, trying to pull away from Eliot's iron grasp. A primal growl emitted from Eliot's throat, his blue eyes flashing with rage. With a sharp twist and a swift kick, Eliot knocked the guard back and to the ground. The guard clutched his arm, looking up at Eliot with a clear expression of terror on his face. The other guard hesitated, only mere feet from the vicious beast who now stood in front of him. Blood dripped from Eliot's face, he swayed slightly on his feet, hands up and ready to make the next strike.

"W-Wait!" The guard backed away slowly. "Maybe we can talk about this?" He laughed nervously.

Eliot laughed with him, eyes wild as he spat blood. "I ain't big on talkin'."

Panic spread over the guard's face as realization hit him. He turned to run, tripping over one of the fallen Russians in the process. Immediately Eliot was on him, fists first, attacking mercilessly and ignoring the guard's whimpering pleas. The guard made an attempt to protect himself, but was quickly knocked unconscious under the barrage of punches. Eliot stood, victorious, over the pile of unconscious guards and Russians, breathing heavily, a mixture of sweat and blood dripping down his face and into his eyes.

The first guard shifted slightly from where he had fallen and Eliot zeroed in on him. He charged as the guard managed to stand up, hitting him with a strong roundhouse kick to the torso. The guard fell next to the others, out like a light. Eliot blinked rapidly, trying to stay upright, but he lost his balance, falling to his knees among his fallen foes, the hallway tilting around him as everything went dark.

.~~~~~~~.

"Eliot. Eliot!" Hardison's voice floated through Eliot's subconscious and he came to with a start. "Whoa, whoa. Easy there, killer."

Eliot grunted as he sat up, his head pounding. "What happened?"

"Well it looks like you took out seven guys over here before you passed out."

"Didn't pass out." Eliot insisted as he struggled to his feet. "Where's the team?"

Hardison stood up next to him. "They're all ready to head out. We took out the traffickers, state police are on their way. The job's done."

Eliot looked at him and nodded. He started to walk toward the stairs to the top deck and stumbled almost falling against the railing.

"Are you okay, man?" Hardison was next to him, looking concerned.

Eliot winced and put a hand on his ribs. He'd forgotten how hard he'd been hit and when he thought about it, he probably had a broken rib or two. "I'm fine."

"Sure." Hardison put an arm under Eliot's shoulders. "Let's go."

Eliot didn't argue, allowing Hardison to steady him as they made their way to the main deck of the cruise ship.

"Oh dear," Sophie met them at the top of the stairs. "Are you alright, Eliot?"

Eliot glanced at her. "Yeah."

"Well come on, then." Sophie led the way off the ship.

They met Parker and Nate at the car and Eliot winced as he jostled into the middle of the backseat.

"Everyone good?" Nate asked.

"Yeah," Hardison replied.

As they drove away, Parker looked in the backseat at Eliot. "You don't look so good, Sparky."

Eliot grunted. Damnit, his body hurt. And his head felt… fuzzy. The inside of the car began to swirl together, lines blurring and then everything went black. Again.

.~~~~~~~.

When Eliot woke up, his breath came in a painful gasp and immediately his hand went to his ribs. He attempted to sit up on the couch - his couch - which he had been lying on, but his screaming ribs and pounding head forced him down.

"Oh good, you're awake." Parker perched on the armrest at the end of the couch, munching happily on cereal. "I won."

Eliot glared at her. "What now?"

"Hardison and I had a bet going."

"She said you'd be out for an hour," Hardison walked up, holding a glass of water and some aspirin out to Eliot. "I said you'd be out for two."

Eliot propped himself up on one elbow, silently taking the aspirin and water from Hardison.

Nate walked into the room. "You guys had a bet going on how long Eliot would be unconscious?"

"Mm-hmm." Parker nodded.

Nate shook his head. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised." He looked at Eliot. "You took quite a beating."

"I'll be fine." Eliot replied.

"Nate wanted to take you to the hospital." Parker spoke up. "I convinced him that you're better off here."

Eliot glanced at her. She was right, of course. He hated hospitals and Parker knew it. He looked at Nate. "Did we get the job done?"

Nate nodded. "Yep. Thanks to you, the Russians were out of the way so we could complete the job without any real issues."

As Eliot tried to sit up again, Parker reached over and helped prop him up with pillows.

"Eliot," Nate looked concerned. "You've got a couple of broken ribs and a concussion. You need to rest."

"I'll be fine." Eliot insisted, wincing and holding his ribs as he shifted on the couch.

"Yeah, I can see that." Nate shook his head again, "We don't have any jobs on the agenda for a little while, why don't you all take a little vacation. Relax, sleep in."

Hardison did what he called his "happy dance" and grinned. "Yeah, baby. I've got some online electronics shopping on my agenda."

Eliot closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a long breath as he listened to Nate and Hardison leaving his apartment.

"You will be okay," Parker spoke quietly, "Right, Sparky?"

Eliot chuckled at the nickname, then winced again as he looked at Parker. "Yeah. I promise." He smiled. "Thanks for not letting Nate take me to the hospital."

"Don't mention it." Parker waved it off. "You'd do the same for me."

Eliot nodded. "You can go, too, you know. I don't need a babysitter."

"I know." She paused. "But sometimes it's nice to have someone around to take care of you."

He just stared at her for a moment. "Parker, I - "

"Are you going to ask about last night?" She interrupted him.

He nodded. "Thanks to your brilliant idea of a drinking competition, I was out of it all day."

She shrugged one shoulder. "Well you certainly enjoyed yourself and you still managed to take out all the bad guys. What's the big deal?"

He shook his head at her. "Too bad it hurts to laugh."

"You still don't remember anything, do you?"

He glared at her.

She leaned in suddenly and kissed him fully on the lips for only a quick moment before sitting back. "It started like that."

He blinked. "You… Um…"

She smirked. "I can show you how the rest went."

"Well, I'm, uh, kind of not, um, in the best shape for…" He trailed off as she moved closer to him.

"I never said you had to do anything." She kissed him again, holding it longer this time. "Just sit still."

He wasn't about to argue with her, especially as she slid onto his lap, straddling him on the couch. The black sweater she was wearing had slipped off one shoulder, exposing bare skin.

She smirked. "Enjoying the view?"

He felt his face heat up and he nodded slightly. "Yes, ma'am." He murmured.

"Hmm, "ma'am" now is it?"

"Would you prefer "mademoiselle"?"

She laughed lightly. "So fancy."

He smiled and opened his mouth to respond but was stopped by Parker's lips on his. He kissed her back deeply, his hand traveling up her side and to her back, slipping under her shirt. She sighed, her back arching underneath his hand as he pulled her closer to him.

"Parker." He whispered her name against her lips.

She pulled away slightly, arms comfortably wrapped around his neck. "Hmm?"

"What are we doing?" He murmured, blue eyes searching hers.

She smiled. "What's it look like?"

He smiled back and kissed her again. "Just watch the ribs."

"'Course." She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, helping him take it off completely. "You're so… muscly."

Eliot chuckled. "Have to be."

She ran her fingertips over his chest, causing goosebumps to appear on his skin. His eyes half closed automatically as her fingers traced down his stomach to the front of his pants. He could feel his heart racing, his breath coming in quick gasps.

"Parker," he breathed her name.

A finger touched his lips and his eyes locked with hers.

"Shush," she murmured, a smirk playing on her face.

Her finger traced his lips, then traveled along his jaw to the back of his neck. The goosebumps came back with full force and he shivered. It was as if her touch was a surge of electricity, coursing through him. With a guttural growl, he snaked one arm around her waist and stood up in one fluid movement.

She squeaked in surprise, her legs locked around his hips as he caught his balance.

"This is a little different than last night," she whispered in his ear, her arms around his neck.

"Well, it'd be no fun if it was exactly the same, now would it?"

Ignoring the sharp stab of pain from his ribs, he carried her into his bedroom, laying her down on the bed before reaching into his nightstand.

"Are you gonna get one of those little rubbery things?"

The innocence in her voice stopped him in his tracks, his face burning a bright shade of red. "Did I do that last night?" he asked, almost scared to hear the answer.

She nodded, "Yep. You demanded it actually. But you were kinda too drunk so I had to put it on your-"

"Okay," he looked away from her, embarrassed by the thought of what she'd just said, but also immensely relieved. At least he'd been semi-responsible even in his drunken stupor.

"Parker," he turned to her only to be faced with her naked body again. "Shit."

"Is something wrong?" she asked, confused.

He shook his head, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth, "Not at all, darlin'."

Hooking a finger into the front of his jeans, she pulled him closer. It was all he could do to keep his eyes focused on hers and his hands to himself. He felt as though he needed her permission before doing what his brain and body truly wanted.

"Come on, Sparky," she whispered, undoing the front of his pants and pushing them off his hips.

That was all he needed. He kicked his jeans away, his boxers following and he pushed himself between her legs. Her satisfied sigh only made him want her that much more. Ignoring the pain from his injuries, he instead focused on the beautiful woman he was with, her every movement, each little noise she made. God, she felt so amazing. While at first he'd been embarrassed, almost guilty, about sleeping with a coworker, right now he didn't care. And it was obvious she didn't, either.

He almost felt as though he was taking advantage of her and her naivete, but she was the one who'd started this whole things and it wasn't like he was hearing any complaints. Quite the opposite actually. He was surprised at the immense giddiness she had and, damn did the girl have an amazing amount of energy. Plus, she was phenomenally flexible.

As they finished, her body arching against his, he kissed her deeply.

"That was…" she began, breathless, "Very different than last night."

He frowned slightly as he rolled next to her, "Better?"

She nodded vigorously, "Yes. Last night was so… fast."

He grimaced, "I'm sorry for that."

"Don't worry, Sparky," she smiled and kissed his cheek, her eyes bright, "You made up for it just now."

He smiled in return, pulling her closer to him. "Good. I'd hate for you to be disappointed, darlin'."

"Oh, you don't disappoint," she grinned at him, "We should do this more often."

"Um, sure," he paused, watching her, "If you want to."

Frowning suddenly, she turned serious, "I-I don't know how things like this work," she murmured.

"What exactly, Parker?"

"Being, uh, with someone. besides the sex part of it, I mean."

Well, this was certainly unexpected.

"Can you be more specific?" he asked, sitting up next to her.

She glanced away, "I liked doing this with you, Eliot, and I'd like to do it more often. More than just the sex part. I just don't know how."

He smiled slightly, knowing exactly how difficult it was to admit you didn't know something.

"I'd like to learn," she continued, "I want you to teach me."

"I'm not the best teacher for things like this, Parker," he offered quietly, "But I can sure try. I'd be happy to."

Jumping up quickly, she turned to him with a smile, "Okay, Sparky, you need to rest. Nate said so."

He chuckled and winced. Dammit, he shouldn't have overexerted himself.

"I need a shower first," he said, standing slowly.

She nodded and dashed off to the bathroom. The sounds of running water reached his ears and he took a step forward.

"You're all set," she appeared in the doorway, all smiles, and he couldn't help but smile back at her.

This would definitely be a birthday to remember.