Author's Note: I am really cranking these things out, aren't I? This is the sequel to Protectors Of Past, which was the sequel to One Day At A Time. You don't really need to read them first, but I would suggest reading at least Protectors Of Past. Rated T for language and violence and suggestive language.

Disclaimer: If I owned Leverage, (inset funny something here.) But I don't.

Lindsey sat down on an empty barstool; glad to of found a few moments of peace. The night was hectic. It was the last weekend before the college started its fall semester, and all the college students had chosen tonight as the night to celebrate their last few days of freedom. Lindsey had been called in to work the club, along with several other waitresses who would have normally had the night off. There was double the number of staff, but double the number of guests.

The music was loud, and the people were even louder. Lindsey had been carrying drinks and glasses back and forth from the kitchen all night. It was nearing midnight, and the partying had shown no sign of slowing down. After refilling table four's drinks for the fifth time, she had been able to find an empty barstool and sit down, trying to grab a moment or two of peace.

It was then that Lindsey noticed the woman. She was standing in the corner of the room, just staring at Lindsey. No drink in hand, no man at her side. Just staring. Lindsey had a fleeting thought to call one of the bouncers who was on duty that night to go and scare the woman away, but then the forger thought better of it. The strange woman could be a client. Lindsey stood up from the barstool and made her way through the mobs of people. As she got closer, she noticed more things about this mysterious guest. The woman had long black hair, and her eyes were hardened, something you would expect from an experienced criminal. Lindsey approached the woman and gave her a small smile. "Can I help you?"

The woman looked Lindsey once over, before replying, her voice hard, but holding traces of softness lost long ago. "Heard that Myanmar was pretty nice this time of year."

Lindsey's small grin grew into a large smile. A customer. She had several different lines that people used when they came not for the booze, but her merchandise. Myanmar was one of them. It seemed random, but Lindsey had chosen that particular word because it was the place where one of Eliot's jobs had taken place. It was the first one he talked to her about.

"Follow me." Lindsey tilted her head in the direction of the bar and turned, once again fighting her way through the crowds. The woman followed closely behind. Soon, they reached the bar area. Lindsey squeezed behind the counter to a locked door, which she unlocked using a key pulled from her pocket. Lindsey then slipped inside, letting the door open only long enough so that her black-haired customer could enter as well. With the door closed, the music and noise was muted, letting Lindsey hear herself think the first time that night. She flicked on the lights then walked toward her small desk. At least, it was suppose to be a desk. In reality, it was just a large table, which Lindsey had decorated with important-looking papers.

"So, what can I do you for?" Lindsey asked, her back still facing the woman. The forger heard a soft click, and froze. That sound was not something she heard often, but the few times she had heard it were burned into her head to the point of her not being able to forget. Lindsey slowly raised her hands above her head and turned to face the woman, frantically trying to recall some of the self-defense lessons that Eliot had tried to teach her. However, her mind went blank when she came face to face with the barrel of a nine-millimeter handgun.

"I'm looking for someone you know. He's quite infamous, actually."

"R-really?" Lindsey tried to answer in a sarcastic tone, but was unable to keep the fear out of her voice.

The woman nodded. "Eliot Spencer. You heard of him?"

The wide-eyed look that Lindsey gave the woman was more than enough to know the answer. The black-haired woman gave an evil grin, and then smashed the butt of the gun against Lindsey's skull, causing her to crumple to the floor. The mysterious woman huffed then leaned down, taking Lindsey by the wrists and dragging her to the door. She had work to do.

"I have enemies."

"I know." Lindsey muttered, rolling over in the bed in order to look Eliot in the eyes. "You think I don't know that?"

Eliot sighed and ran his hands through his hair before placing them behind his head, his eyes aimed toward the ceiling. "That's not what I meant."

Lindsey knew exactly what Eliot had meant in his little sentence. However, she was stubborn, and wanted to hear them out loud. "Then tell me."

Eliot frowned. Lindsey sure did like to make things really uncomfortable. "I mean that I have people that are trying to track me down to carry out their revenge. These people would stop at nothing to hurt me. Which includes going after people that I care about."

Lindsey tried to make eye contact with the hitter, but he refused. So, the woman just sighed and started to trace imaginary figures on his bare chest. "I wont tell anyone anything, Eliot. You know that."

A pained look shot through Eliot's eyes, and he sat up in the bed, pulling away from Lindsey's touch. "You think that's all I care about? You not spilling information about me? These people can hurt you, Lin. Hurt you in ways that you could never imagine."

Lindsey's screwed her eyes shut. She knew that the day would come when someone would come knocking at her door asking about Eliot Spencer. She knew the man was trouble the first time she laid eyes on him in Venice when he commissioned her to make that little golden monkey statue. And the first time they had gone on a real date, Lindsey had found herself standing by her front door, weighing the good against the bad reasons to get involved with a man like Eliot Spencer. And she had found that the good outweighed the bad, and she was willing to stick to it. "I figured that out the first time I saw you."

Eliot smirked before returning to his serious mode. "I just want you to promise me something, ok?"

Lindsey nodded, wondering if she was going to regret agreeing to something before knowing what it was.

"You're life is more important than any information that anyone would want about me. Give them whatever they want about me, I can deal with that. What I can't deal with is you dieing because of me."

Lindsey lay in silence for a few moments, digesting Eliot's words. Basically, he had just told her that she should rat him out if anyone tried to find him through her. Lindsey slowly nodded her head. She would tell him that she agreed, but it didn't mean she had to do it. The street that Eliot was heading down went both ways. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she knew that it was her fault that Eliot was found dead on the side of the road one day. "Promise."

They sealed it with a kiss.

Lindsey woke up slowly, her head pounding in her ears. She moved her head very slowly, so not to make the pounding worse. When she finally was able to get a good look around the room, she didn't like what she saw. It looked like the small spare room at the back of her apartment, but nothing was right. It had the same wallpaper and hardwood floors, but all of the furniture was gone. The only things in the room were her and a small tripod with a camera sitting on top of it, a red light staring at her.

Lindsey went to move, and found herself tied to a chair. Her hands were handcuffed to the arms of the chair, and her feet were handcuffed to the legs. She tried to move the chair, but it was screwed into the floor somehow. Her head filled with fear, Lindsey yelled out for help, even though she knew that no one would be coming. No one, at least, that would help her.

The door to the room squeaked as it opened, and the woman that assaulted her down in the bar entered the room, her arms crossed. Lindsey's eyes shot to the woman's hands, but she wasn't holding a gun any longer. In fact, it looked as if she was unarmed. The woman noticed how Lindsey was looking at her, and smirked. "No gun today."

'Today?' Lindsey became confused. How long had she been out?

"You have a very nice operation going on here, although you should be a little more paranoid about your guests. I thought that Eliot would have taught you that."

At the mention of Eliot's name, Lindsey strained at the cuffs, the metal biting into her skin. She gave a small cry of pain, and relaxed her hands. She was in deep trouble, and she knew it. All that Lindsey knew was that this woman wanted to know where Eliot was, and was willing to hurt her to get it. She remembered that promise she made to Eliot the first year that things had gotten serious. She had seen it as just a precaution, but now it was real. She stayed quite. Lindsey had no idea how real interrogation was supposed to work, but she watched enough movies to figure that staying silent was the best bet.

"I want you to call Spencer, I need to talk to him."

Lindsey shook her head, quickly abandoning the silent idea. "I don't have a way to contact him."

The woman scoffed and moved closer to Lindsey, watching as the small woman flinched. "Tell me the truth, it will make things a lot easier for the both of you."

Lindsey's mind raced. "He just shows up, I never know when." Well, that part was mostly true. She could remember only twice in the past five or six years that they had been together that Eliot had called ahead before coming. However, she did have a way to contact him. After getting in the car wreck and spending several days in a hospital last year, Eliot had decided to give Lindsey a number to contact his team in case anything happened again, or she needed to get in reach with him. She had memorized that number by heart, and hadn't written it down anywhere.

The woman clicked her tongue and slowly shook her head, loosing patience. She came within range of Lindsey and drew her hand back, slapping her hostage across the face. Lindsey's head flew sideways, but she didn't make a sound. The woman was impressed. Forgers normally don't have to deal with the more ugly side of life. Most people are scared to touch them because of what they could do with documents to make their lives miserable. Or, for this particular forger, they were scared to touch her because they knew that the world's greatest retrieval specialist would hunt them down and make them pay.

Yes, Eliot wouldn't be happy to know it, but word of him being connected with the forger had spread quickly after the fiasco with the drug smuggler last year. The important people in the underworld knew that the forger who went by the name of Minerva was protected. There were only a few people crazy enough to go after Lindsey after learning that.

"Now." The woman handed out a phone. "I want you to call Spencer."

Lindsey shook her head again, and the woman sighed. "Have it your way."

She turned and walked out of the room. She knew that she could hit the girl until she bled, but she wouldn't give away where the hitter was. But there was more than one way to interrogate someone. Mind tricks normally worked miracles, and the black-haired woman was an expert in those. People could, on average, last about a week in isolation in normal conditions. Less time that that when they are strapped upright to a chair.

--Leverage--

Eliot Spencer sat in Nate's living room, a bowl of freshly popped popcorn just in reach. He grabbed a handful and popped a piece in his mouth. He hung his arms around the back of the couch and leaned his head back, thoroughly bored. Nate had called the team to come in during the middle of the day. Sophie and he had found a new client, and wanted to brief everyone as soon as possible. It had been a few weeks since they had a chance to do a con, and everyone was raring to go.

Hardison entered the room, a bottle of half-drank orange soda in one hand, a slim laptop in the other. The hacker sat down in the single chair next to the couch and hooked up his laptop, bringing the large panel screens to life with the touch of the button. Eliot grunted a greeting to the man, but said nothing more.

The other three quickly joined them, and soon Nate made his way to his designated place in front of the screens. "Hardison, roll it."

The hacker nodded and clicked a few buttons on his laptop. Several large pictures popped up on the screens. Nate opened his mouth to begin to explain what the con the team was going to be doing entailed, when the landline phone rang. Nate paused and glanced at Hardison, who taped into the phone line before looking at the number that showed up on his screen. He shrugged and read out the number. "Don't know, man."

Eliot, however, after hearing the numbers, jumped up off the couch and ran to grab the phone before it went to voicemail. Nate's phone only rang three times instead of four for some reason. The others gave him a weird glance, wanting to know whom it was that was calling Eliot on Nathan's phone.

"That's Lindsey's number." He explained before pressing the on button. "Yeah."

There was a strange silence on the end of the phone, then Eliot could hear shallow breathing. "H-hello? Eliot?"

The hitter frowned. Something wasn't right. It was Lindsey's voice on the other end of the phone, but she sounded scared. Eliot placed his hand over the mouthpiece before gesturing to Hardison. "Trace it."

The hacker nodded and started to type away on his keyboard. Sophie shot Eliot a quizzical glance, but stayed silent. "Hey sweetheart, you alright? What's wrong."

"D-don't come. Eliot, run! Get away! Hur--"

There was a loud sound, and Lindsey stopped talking. Eliot froze, his eyes widening. The sound he had heard wasn't from a gun, and he could still hear some kind of breathing. Lindsey had to be still alive. She had to be. The hitter rushed over to the couch and put the phone on loudspeaker before sitting it down on the coffee table. He shot a strained glance at Hardison, but the man only shook his head. Not yet. "Lin?"

"Sorry, Spencer. Lindsey is unable to talk to you right now. Want me to take a message."

To Nathan, Parker, Hardison, and Sophie, the voice was just another woman on the end of a phone. To Eliot, it was a nightmare becoming real. The man's face turned pale, and he curled his hands into fists, his body shaking with rage. "What the hell did you do to her!"

The sound of laughter came from the phone. "Don't worry, she is still breathing. Although, I don't really get what you see in her. I thought that an infamous man like Eliot Spencer would have at least found a girl who had more…will."

Eliot grit is teeth and growled, slamming him hands onto the table. "I thought you got your revenge, or am I the only one who remembers that?"

More laughter. "Oh, I didn't forget. But this isn't about revenge, Spencer. I told you that I fulfilled that wish already."

Suddenly, Hardison yelped. "Wow, I just lost total control of my computer!"

Not even seconds later the large panel screens on the wall turned black, only to flicker back on, this time with a different picture. The Leverage team was now viewing a live recording of Lindsey. The poor girl was strapped to a chair using rope that was bound to both her hands and her feet. She had no gag in her mouth, and her head was slumped forward in the chair, her eyes closed. At first glance she looked to be dead, but then Eliot noticed a small rise and fall of her chest. Lindsey's face was slightly covered by her blonde hair, but the hitter could still make out several small bruises. There were a few more running up and down her arms, which were bare.

If it was possible, Eliot turned even paler, his voice coming out at just over a whisper. "You bitch."

"No need for insults."

Eliot started to see red spots in front of his eyes. He stood up and started to pace. "What do you want?!"

"You really haven't figured that out? I want you."

The live feed disappeared from the screen, and the phone line went dead, a long, steady dial tone filling the air. Soon after, Hardison regained control of his computer. "I didn't get a location."

Eliot didn't hear him. He was just staring at the blank screen. "Doesn't matter. I know exactly where she is."

Yes, it's short. I know. But this was the perfect place for a chapter end, and I couldn't fit in anything else. Review! Let me know what you think! I will be posting the next chapter as soon as it is finished. More reviews = happier me = faster writing.