Title: Only Human

Author: Cassandra Mulder

Rating: PG

Classification: Leverage; Eliot/Parker; episode-based; friendship

Spoilers: Slight stuff for The Boost Job and The Three Card Monte Job

Written: August 2010

Disclaimer: Sadly, Leverage and its fantastic characters belong to Chris Downey, John Rogers, Dean Devlin, and NOT me. Because if they were mine, Eliot would be continuously otherwise occupied. ;) No infringement is intended, I'm just having fun here.

Summary: Eliot and Parker need to work out some... issues.

Word Count: 1674

A/N: This is by no means my first fic, but it's definitely my first Leverage fic, so I hope it turned out all right. It has been awhile since I finished and published anything, so go easy, but do let me know if you like. :) This is simply borne out of the frustration of watching Parker enjoy hurt!Eliot lately. She needs to learn a lesson, I think. ;)

Eliot figured Parker had no clue just how close she was to being in a lot of trouble. So far he thought he had shown a great deal of self-control, even more than usual, in not strangling her for some of her more recent choices. Not that it would occur to her that she had made any bad decisions. Any remorse she may have had about any of her actions in life, she was exceptionally good at keeping to herself.

He was searching for his ice pack in the kitchen of Nate's loft when Parker strolled in looking for something to eat, as usual. His head was throbbing from their little escapade earlier in the day, and he could swear the lump on his scalp just kept growing. He may have had a hard head, but he had been hit with a crowbar, and a crowbar was not supposed to make contact with human skulls. At least not by accident.

Sophie was making herself a cup of coffee by the sink and Parker was rummaging through the cabinets when Eliot finally slapped his palm on the counter.

"Have either of you seen my ice pack?" he said grumpily. "I've got at least three around here somewhere and I can't find any of them."

"I'm sorry, Eliot, I haven't seen them," Sophie said sympathetically. "Have you tried the freezer?"

"I've tried everywhere," he said. He looked pointedly at Parker.

"What? I haven't seen them," she said with a shrug. "What would I need an ice pack for?"

"That's right," he said with a scowl he only saved for very special occasions. "No one's thrown a crowbar at your head lately."

Parker rolled her eyes and pulled down a box of cereal. "Are you still whining about that? I said I was sorry, it was an accident."

"Blind people don't have aim that bad," he shot back.

"I was trying to help you," she said, as she unrolled the cereal bag, seemingly uninterested in where the conversation was going.

"Yeah, and I was trying to keep you alive. You don't usually bean a guy with a metal tool while he's trying to cover your ass."

Parker just gave him a look like he was being totally ridiculous, and that was the last straw. He had finally had enough.

Faster than either she or Sophie could see it coming, he was across the kitchen and had Parker by the arm. He jerked her away from the counter, tipping the open cereal box on its side. Sophie raised her eyebrows and tried to hide behind her coffee cup, figuring that whatever was going on there, they would just have to work it out themselves.

Eliot had her hauled across the apartment and into the farthest corner he could find before she could even figure out how to resist.

"You are on seriously thin ice here, Parker," he growled, mere inches from her face.

She blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the physical dominance and the fact he had her pinned her against the wall and his fingers were digging in her arm. It did register that he was holding her just tightly enough not to cause any damage, but at the same time she probably wouldn't be able to get away without causing some herself.

She was really starting to regret that whole crowbar thing. And maybe blowing the last mission. He had seemed really upset since then.

Eliot was trying desperately to calm himself, but her apparent obliviousness was not helping his cause. Or hers, for that matter.

"What? I-" she stammered. She hated it when people made her stammer.

"Do I look like a machine to you?" he asked her.

She looked off slightly to her right, just past his head. She didn't think she could look into his eyes.

"Look at me," he said dangerously.

Her eyes snapped to his, having no choice.

"Do I look like a machine to you?" he repeated. He took her free hand and placed it against his cheek. "Do I feel like a machine to you?"

She could feel the warmth of his skin and the roughness of his stubble, and the sudden hitch in her breath was painful. She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, and breathed out a "No" she wondered if he could even hear.

He thought maybe he was starting to get to her, but the conflict of emotions on her face could quickly turn this into something he hadn't intended if he wasn't careful. He knew she had feelings, sometimes she just didn't know how or when to use them.

"I am tired of it, Parker," he said quietly. "The poking and the prodding, the mocking and you acting like anything that happens to me doesn't matter. I am out there bustin' my ass for y'all every day - bustin' my ass for you - and that's all the thanks I get? I'm not asking for a damn ticker tape parade, but the least you could do is show a little respect for my job. When it comes right down to it, I may just be the muscle, but me taking the hits for you makes your job possible and allows you to keep breathing. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head timidly and he tried not to register how her eyes were wet, or how he could feel her shaking a little bit under his touch. He took her hand from his face and she could look him in the eye again.

"I hope we have an understanding. I'd hate to have to leave your butt swingin' in the wind just to prove a point. We wouldn't want that, would we?" he said, even though he knew it was an empty threat. He had to make her consider the possibilities. "I respect your job and your place in this team, I'm just asking you to respect mine, got it?"

She nodded again, silently, and he let go of her arm and took half a step back. She disappeared without another look or a word.

He stood there, looking at where she had been, taking deep breaths. Sophie casually walked through the room, still sipping on her coffee, giving him a not so subtle inquisitive look. He simply scowled, shook his head, and made his way to the door. He needed some air and he needed it fast.

He went for a walk, and an hour later when he had cooled down, he went to the roof, which he figured was the only place he would get to be alone for awhile longer. He and Hardison had taken a couple of chairs up there so they could throw back some beers and try to unwind after a job, but they rarely used them.

He took a seat in one of the plastic chairs, but he had felt her as soon as he got to the roof. He should have known this was where she would go. Maybe he had known, and he had gone anyway. He didn't really want to think about the implications of that.

She didn't say a word, and he didn't look over his shoulder. All of his instincts were on the alert, but he wasn't worried about an attack; at least not the kind he was used to worrying about.

After several moments of a seemingly endless waiting game, she came up beside him and sat down on the roof next to his feet. He sighed. Why couldn't she just use the other chair like a normal person?

He could see her eyes shifting in his direction, but she didn't turn to look at him.

She didn't know if she could. She knew she was eternally hopeless with people, and she really didn't want to hurt his feelings. Eliot was usually so stern it was hard to remember sometimes that he had feelings. But he did, just like her, because however screwed up they might have been, they were still human.

"I'm sorry," she murmured quietly, and it made him sigh again.

"I know. I just-"

"Don't," she said, and turned her head just slightly to look at him. "You were right. I've been, I don't know what I've been lately. Reckless, extra insensitive. You don't deserve that, no one does. I'll try to do better. I'll try not to hurt you anymore."

Sometimes he thought that was the only thing they could successfully do to each other, even if it wasn't physically.

"I respect your job, Eliot. I never wanted you to think otherwise."

"I know," he said again. "Things have been kind of… rough lately. Like things aren't ever goin' the way they're supposed to."

"Some of that's my fault," she said guiltily, thinking of trusting a girl she just wanted to save, and almost getting them all killed as a result.

"Here lately I think we can all take some of the fault. But we're going to try to do better from now on, right?"

She nodded, and he looked down at her bright hair as the twilight reflected in it. She laid her head against his leg, and he had to make himself relax.

"So you forgive me?" she said timidly, as though she really didn't expect him to.

God. Why did he let her weasel her way back in every time? Even he would never know the answer, he was sure. But that uncertain tone, like she was some frightened little girl… "Yes, Parker," he said softly. "I forgive you."

He rested his hand on her head, then let his fingers trail through her ponytail. Maybe it was for real, maybe it was only a temporary truce, but he liked the rare times he could be at peace with her more than the times they were at war. Not that he would never admit it.

She pressed a smile against his knee, and thought to herself that she liked the quiet more with him than anyone else. But she would never admit it.

Finis