A/N: This was inspired by an Eliot/Tara short on the Five Sentence Smut Tumblr. Of course, I had to give it my own spin, and changed it to Eliot/Parker. This should be a two parter when I'm done! Hope you enjoy, its going to be my first dive into M rated Leverage material.

"Alright, alright, settle down," Nate instructed, standing in front of the computer television screens, a remote in hand. The chatter in front of him died down after a few beats and he clicked forward on the screens. "This one, this one is serious." The team frowned collectively. All professionals, they took their jobs very seriously, and if Nate was specifically instructing them to, it was something quite different than their usual jobs.

"Aren't they all serious, Nate?" Eliot was the first to chime in, reminding from his place on the couch, sprawled comfortably over the whole love seat.

"Usually we just deal with money and pride," Nate gestured to the screen, "Meet Donny Garfalo, he runs a massive underground sex ring that relies heavily on coercion and kidnap, but he's got more than half of the Portland police department in his pocket, and there are rumors that his ring caters to high ranking government officials. So basically, he's untouchable under the law."

"Who is our client?" Sophie asked in confusion, she usually went with Nate to meet their potential clients, but this time round she'd just gotten the message to meet in his apartment like the rest of the team.

"A girl, Samantha, twenty four," he clicked ahead on the screen again, the image of a pretty blond girl taking the place of the sleazy mark. "She was kidnapped when she was nineteen and escaped last year. She went to the police but they told her there was nothing they could do, since she had no evidence of who had kidnapped her," he continued.

Hardison shifted uncomfortably, as a hacker he was the most removed from the world of crime, and he could handle the usual cases just fine, but this was wrong on an infinite number of levels.

"What's the plan?" Parker asked, face blank without any apparent disturbance. And maybe she wasn't, none of them could be sure what had actually happened to her in her youth, but no one would be surprised if she had grown callous to those sorts of horrors.

"A short long con," Nate replied quickly, "the only way to bring this guy down is going to be from the inside out. Eliot you're going to approach him as a potential business partner."

Eliot frowned, his brows knitting together and he brushed a hand through his hair, "I'm running grift on this?" Sure he didn't mind playing the small roles that allowed him to keep close in case he was needed, but he'd never had to play the central role. Even when he'd been the fiddle, all of the actual acting had fallen on Nate and Sophie.

"Yeah, some of Garfalo's partners might recognize me from insurance, and there's no way Hardison could be convincing in that line of business," Nate shrugged like it was obvious. And it was, to him at least.

"What so I look like a disgusting pervert to you?" Eliot growled, sitting up in his seat as his eyes flashed warningly, daring Nate to continue with the comparison.

"No, Sparky, Hardison's too much of a nerd," Parker chimed in, ignoring the wounded look on the Hacker's face.

"You won't be alone either," Nate added, "Samantha told me about a monthly party that Garfalo hosts. Friends of his, business partners and their girls. You'll take Parker."

"What?" all four of them cried simultaneously.

"Nate, are you sure about this?" Sophie hovered over him as he sat at the breakfast bar sipping his coffee. "Those are the types of people that Parker stabs. And justifiably in this case. There's no way she won't blow the con," She was freaking out. Mildly, but freaking out none the less.

"She only stabs people when she feels threatened, she won't have to leave Eliot's side, that'll keep her from stabbing anybody. She trusts him," Nate shrugged, clearly not concerned with the grifter's worries. He downed the rest of the cup. "We don't have another option anyway, Sophie."

She scowled, clearing her throat. Nate just chuckled, a look of dawning comprehension on his face. "Oh I get it. You want to know why I didn't pick you," he nodded, a grin still on his face.

"Watch your tongue, Nathan Ford," Sophie's eyes flashed warningly, staring pointedly at the mastermind.

"Parker has an air of innocence to her that you just can't fake," Nate replied carefully, and he continued at another look from the grifter, "and I was worried that I'd lose my head with jealousy…" he added.

"You're lying," Sophie frowned, "not well, either." Nate rolled his eyes. Like he could honestly come out and say that Sophie was too old to play the part.

"Sophie I don't want to wear any of this," Parker whined, standing in the middle of Sophie's walk in closet. Or well, one of Sophie's walk in closets. Parker had seen two, but she wasn't entirely convinced that there weren't more in the modest town home.

"Too bad, you don't have a choice. This is a high end party. You're lucky I already have shopped from this year's spring runway fashions or we'd be out shopping instead of in here," Sophie knew how much Parker hated shopping, but Sophie's closet was barely a welcome alternative.

"I shouldn't even be going, it should be you," Parker admitted, and Sophie could hear the self-doubt in the younger girl's voice.

"I'm too old," something she could clearly admit but couldn't hear, "You'll be fine. You won't even need to say anything, and I'll be in your ear the whole time, just in case."

"You're not old," Parker furrowed her brow, and Sophie grinned. That meant so much more coming from her than anyone else, because Parker never tried to make people feel better by lying, it was a concept she had never grasped.

"Thank you, Parker, but that won't get you out of this. Eliot will be there the whole time, you won't have to leave his side," Sophie added, handing another skin tight mini-dress to the thief to try on. It was difficult trying to find a happy medium, trying to preserve some of Parker's modesty while dressing her appropriately like a call girl.

Parker dropped the dress she had been wearing and started to shimmy into the new one. Sophie may have been trying to preserve Parker's modesty, but the younger woman had no concept of the idea.

"That's perfect," Sophie grinned, studying Parker carefully. The dress was bright red and silk, just long enough to cover everything important. Skin tight and strapless, there was no way she could move comfortably but Sophie knew with Eliot there, she wouldn't need to.

"It's too short," Parker frowned, and Sophie honestly and entirely did not understand the thief. Now she was worried about modesty? After she had stood stark naked in Sophie's closet? After she had dropped her robe for the photo shoot for that one con in front of Hardison? Really? "If I bend over," the apparently shameless at this point thief demonstrated.

"So don't bend over," Sophie shrugged. There was nothing she could do; it was the appropriate length for the party. "Oh I have the perfect shoes for that," she scurried away, no doubt to retrieve the offending items from another closet.

"Why do you even own this?" Parker called after the grifter.

"Do you still have that ruby you stole from Brunei?" Sophie called from some hidden recess of the huge closet.

"The Mogok Ruby?" Parker confirmed, "Say nothing trust the ruby this time?" She frowned as Sophie returned with a pair of black stilettos. "Oh god. No. No way," Parker shook her head.

"Yes. You'll be fine," Sophie smirked.

"You're one lucky son of a bitch," Hardison glared at Eliot, who was fixing the cufflinks on his Armani suit. "Damn, it's not even fair. What about overselling the bit?"

"What? Jealous I get Parker in a skimpy dress on my arm for the whole night?" Eliot grinned brightly, his brows raised tauntingly.

"No," Hardison scowled, apparently now considering that too. "You've got a damn Aston Martin for the night. You're Wes Crawley for god sakes, from Texas, not James Bond. Why do you need a Bond car?" The hacker was practically pouting.

"It's the character," Nate chimed in, "Overselling can't really be done with these kinds of people. The bigger and flashier the better."

Eliot leaned against the wall, waiting for Sophie and Parker to descend the stairs. It was nearly eight o'clock and the party started at eight thirty. If they didn't come down soon, then it would be a good thing he had a car that could go two hundred miles an hour. Hardison though just continued to mutter under his breath, shooting dirty looks at the hitter.

Eliot growled, "Parker isn't your-" he cut off quickly when he spotted her at the top of the stairs, adorn in the slinky red dress and black stilettos and Eliot was a bred blooded straight male and he certainly wasn't immune to the low cut neckline and those legs that seemed to go on for miles, and he swallowed dryly.

"What?" Parker frowned, glancing between Hardison and Eliot. Her hair was pulled up into a high slicked back ponytail off of her neck and her makeup was light but still sultry somehow, and Eliot was very appreciative of Sophie's handiwork.

"Nothing, let's go," Eliot growled, the blank stare disappearing from his face. He turned as she reached the foot of the stairs, and with a hand on her lower back, he led her to the door. The sideways glances and the way Eliot's entire being seemed more tense didn't escape Sophie, and she just raised her eyebrows with a small smirk.

"What's that look?" Nate asked with interest, turning to Sophie with his rocks glass in hand. "Changed your mind about this plan?"

"Y'all conspiring against me," Hardison cried dramatically from behind his laptop screen. "That's what this is, isn't it?"

"Naturally, Hardison, we revamped plan M, you don't die anymore."

"Man, y'all just cruel."

The car was a beauty, there was no doubt about that, but even behind the wheel, Eliot was distracted, white knuckling the stick shift and steering wheel. His eyes were trained on the road very deliberately, trying to ignore the fact that sitting down, he could see even more of Parker' thighs. He tried to ignore the fact that even staring straight forward he could see her out of the corner of his eye.

She shifted in the seat, hemline riding impossibly higher, and Eliot's throat went dry. She shifted again, and Eliot was struck with guilt. She was uncomfortable, about to enter a place where she'd be objectified- seen as less than human and there he was half hard at the sight of her and no different than the men they were trying to take down.

"Parks," Eliot half growled, but not out of anger or annoyance. She turned to him, eyes wide and innocent, serving only to make Eliot feel even worse. "Parker. In there," he struggled to find the right words.

"What?" She frowned, tugging the hemline of her dress down and crossing her long legs.

"If anything and I mean anything makes you uncomfortable, let me know, okay?" He frowned as well, turning his head to look at her, "I don't think Nate made the right decision so one word and we'll get out of there, okay?" He added.

"I can take care of myself, I'll be fine," Parker replied, sounding a little miffed as she glanced at Eliot out of the corner of her eye.

"I know you can. We all know you can, Parks. You can stab guys with forks or break fingers but that'll blow the con, and in there? You won't just be seen as crazy you'll be a problem, and people will react and I'll have to get involved. And as much as those guys deserve a beating, it'll ruin everything. So please, just let me know. I'll get us out without blowing the con," Parker was surprised by his intensity and squirmed a little in her seat.

"Okay."

"Okay."

When they stepped out of the car, Parker was practically clinging to Eliot's arm, though in the heels Sophie had dressed her in she was quite a bit taller than him, and Eliot wasn't sure if she was scared or just afraid of falling in the shoes.

The car was parked by a valet, obviously impressed with the car, and they walked up to the door into the party. The openness of the place baffled the hitter. For an underground sex ring they were quite confident, and he was fairly certain that most of the girls were there against their will.

"Name please?" The man at the door asked, stopping them from entering immediately, though the man and three girls ahead of them had been let in without prompting.

"Wes Crawley" Eliot replied with a growl, though he laid the southern accent on thick, Texan. Not where he was from originally, but he'd lived there long enough to be convincing.

"And her?" The man seemed satisfied with the name and nodded towards Parker. She opened her mouth to speak but a look from Eliot silenced her quickly.

"Charlotte, not that it matters," a glare towards the man with Eliot's signature growl and they were let into the building. Had Eliot not been such a good actor, he would have stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the party, and as it was his jaw dropped a little. Sure they knew the ringleader was wealthy, but the sheer number of guests was startling. A clear ratio skewed severely towards females, Eliot would estimate somewhere near ten to one, but the number total was staggering.

"There's got to be more than a thousand people here," Eliot could hear nothing but a ghost of a whisper in his ear, her hot breath dusting across his skin and the hitter almost-almost shivered.

"Excuse me, I don't think I've seen you at one of these parties before," Eliot turned around and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The man who had spoken was the stereotypical sleaze-ball.

"No, you haven't. 'M new in town. Wes Crawley," He held out his hand, not overly friendly but not entirely dismissive either, and his left hand remained firmly placed on Parker's back.

"Greg Jessup," the sleaze-ball shook his hand. "You're a friend of Donny's then?"

Eliot shook his head, "hopefully a business partner actually. 'M in town to meet with him, but he invited me to this little get together as a sign of good faith and Charlotte here just had to come along."

"Oh, I gotcha, gotcha," Eliot absentmindedly wondered if the little man was on speed or something, and Parker shifted ever so slightly closer. "I'm a friend, I'm a friend, but a customer also, y'know?" The man laughed, "I'm mostly just here for new merchandise." Eliot's stomach rolled at the term, and Jessup's slimy little eyes raked over Parker. "Of course it looks like you've got yourself the pick of the lot."

Eliot could feel her tense, and he waited for Sophie in his ear, reassuring Parker, and then he realized it. He realized how silent it had been. And he wondered how he hadn't noticed before. Jamming frequencies, they had to be, because Hardison's technology never failed on its own. Parker seemed to have just noticed as well, and he could almost feel the anxiety radiating off of her.

"Yes sir, don't make them like they do in Texas," Eliot glanced at the girl, trying to reassure her as he settled his hand on her waist, pulling her closer. "Can you point me in Mr. Garfalo's direction? I'd like to speak with him.

On their way over to Donny, Eliot handed a champagne flute to Parker and knocked back a scotch before they reached the mark. "Well look at that pretty little thing," snakeskin shoes, a sports coat, Eliot grimaced internally, did everyone have to fulfill stereotypes so precisely? "You're not one of mine."

"Sir, I'm Wes Crawley," Eliot held out his hand.

"Of course you are, and I suppose this belongs to you?" he nodded towards Parker, who to his surprise, stood silent and still, her chin slightly bowed to the floor.

Donny handed Eliot a shot of bourbon, "We'll talk business later, this is a party." He turned, gesturing over a tall redhead who flinched visibly when he made eye contact. "This is Marceline," Donny introduced, but Eliot was sure it was more a show of wealth than courtesy.

"Charlotte," Eliot gestured to Parker.

"Well since you're new here, Charlotte, let me explain a few things," Donny grinned lecherously. "My party, my rules. Follow Marceline's lead tonight, and when you're introduced to another girl, you make-out."

Eliot shot a worried glance at Parker, mind reeling as he tried to come up with an excuse, but he couldn't meet her eye.