Author's Notes: I'm alive! I offer any and every apology for having disappeared. This one is a little shorter than the norm, but I wanted to get back in the saddle again. Thanks for reading! :~)

Upon leaving the gallery, Sophie and Nate went back to McRory's, each quietly focused on their thoughts. They skipped the bar, opting to head up the back staircase and to Nate's apartment. Nate helped Sophie out of her coat and hung it in the closet, while Sophie stepped out of her heels and padded barefoot to the kitchen.

"That was an eventful evening," Sophie observed dryly and reached for the tea pot, giving it a swish to check the water level, before setting it on the burner.

Nate shook his head and crossed the loft to the kitchen, opening a cupboard and taking down two mugs; one a fine bone china in white, with lilac flowers painted by hand in scrolls; the other plain black, a heavy ceramic thing with a chip out of the rim.

"I never would have expected Eliot and Parker to be together like that," Sophie mused aloud, "Not after all of the there's something wrong with you," She imitated the hitter's raspy growl and Nate snickered, his face half obscured by the still open cupboard door. Closing it, he replied wryly,

"I think that might be a term of endearment for them now."

"Or all of the times Parker pokes at his injuries and how aggravated he gets," Sophie continued as if she hadn't heard Nate's attempt at a joke. She grabbed two tea bags from the canister on the counter and laid one in each mug before she surmised, "I'd be willing to bet that Hardison doesn't have a clue about what he does to drive Eliot mad, but Parker knows full well, and she does it just to get the rise out of him. And, oh lord, Hardison," Her minor ramble stopped abruptly and she turned to Nate with alarm on her face, "Hardison has had a crush on Parker since the beginning. He'll be crushed when he finds out."

Nate remained silent at that, reaching for the kettle that had begun to whistle on the stove. Gently, he edged Sophie aside and poured the boiling water into each mug.

"They're hiding it from us," Sliding into the corner created by the counter, Sophie's mind was still focused on Eliot, Parker and what she had seen that evening. Crossing one arm across her chest, she motioned with the opposite hand, waving an open palm as she rambled, "And how long have they been hiding it from us, and why haven't we noticed? Why haven't you noticed?" She looked to Nate, "You, who says that he sees everything, Mr. Mastermind. Why haven't you realized that they were hiding something from us before this?"

Setting the prepared mug of tea on the counter next to her, Nate said, "I started wondering after that job with the Mexican cartel and the funeral director."

Sophie stalled in reaching for her mug and looked sideways at Nate with a puckered brow. There hadn't been much mention of what had happened to Hardison on that job. No one wanted to think about it, wanted to think of the possibilities if they hadn't been able to find him with their hurried plan of sirens and circling.

Nate glossed over talking about it here too, nodding around a mouthful of tea, "It was, it was just something about the way Eliot would watch her that seemed different."

"Hmm," Was Sophie's reply as she sidled past him to grab the jar of honey from the cupboard and waited for Nate to continue.

"Then after the job with the CIA experiment, I saw the same thing," Nate paused to take a sip of his tea, "Except it was Parker watching Eliot. It went from there."

"Why didn't you say anything about it?" She actually seemed hurt as her voice dipped, "Why didn't you tell me anything about it?"

Nate sighed, having known this question was coming, and yet he hadn't managed to come up with a better answer, "They kept it to themselves for a reason. It wasn't up to me to pull back that curtain. That's up to them."

Sophie seemed to accept that, cupping her steaming mug of tea between both hands and wandering towards the kitchen table. Once seated, she twisted to look back at Nate and repeat, "Eliot and Parker. Not exactly the pair you would expect."

Nate shook his head as he took the seat across the table from Sophie, "Maybe not."

Sophie had wanted to start right away and draw the truth of their relationship from Eliot and Parker. The team was a family, and she wanted to know why they had felt the need for secrecy. She would smoke them out, delicately poke around and place well-timed, subtle hints until they finally confessed. That had been her plan. Except too soon, they were in Good Cheer Cards and followed by the documentary camera crew. With she and Nate had been embroiled in the chaotic push-pull of their own relationship, Sophie's attention was pointed elsewhere.

Eliot was standing with his back to the wall in Good Cheer's main office, observing, when Parker silently crept up and slipped into the small gap between him and the wall. Hooking her fingers through two of his belt loops; she stretched up to peek out over his shoulder, squeaked, and then ducked back behind him.

"Parker," He muttered, feeling her face press into his back between his shoulder blades, "What're ya doin'?"

"I'm hiding," Her voice was muffled and then she was speaking directly into his ear, "That camera dude has been stalking me all day. I want to jab him in the eyes!"

Eliot released a snort, adjusting his arms crossed over his chest as she ducked back behind him again, "I know darlin', but we're almost out of here. Think you can go without jabbing anybody until then?"

Parker heaved a put-upon sigh, tugging on his belt loops, "I'm not promising anything," She shook her head against his back, and Eliot could picture her landing a thumb into the camera operator or Günter's eye, "Make him leave me alone Sparky. Go growly face on him, please?"

"Parker," He grumbled under his breath, and that grumble turned into a groan as she dipped her fingers beneath his waistband and lightly scrapped her fingernails against his skin, "I'll – I'll get him off your tail."

"Thank you," There was relief in her voice and she nipped at the back of his neck before she slipped out from behind him and away.

He was still snickering to himself when Hardison arrived in front of him with a button cam in hand.

"What you gigglin' at man?" The hacker asked, squinting at Eliot curiously, and Eliot's mood easily made the switch back to grumpy,

"Nothin'."

Later that same day, no one, not even Sophie, thought it was strange when Eliot barked that Günter and his camera crew would be following after him and Hardison, as annoyance was practically Eliot's default setting.

Sophie also missed Eliot's discomfort when the fake nun – Sister Lupé – continued to buzz around him like an enamoured bee. She didn't notice Parker's growing anxiety with the play-by-play of this attempted seduction that Hardison was providing her by text.

After the job, when the team plus the faux nun, Hurley and Alice White's friend Peggy had settled around the bar, Eliot waited until they were all focused elsewhere to make his silent exit. Outside the bar, two blocks down and around a corner, was as far as he got before Parker appeared in front of him, still in that clinging metallic colored dress that glowed on her skin under the street lamps.

"Hey," Eliot began softly, letting himself reach for her like he'd wanted to ever since he'd seen her step into the bar on those unusually high heels, "I've been lookin' for you."

"Sure," Parker replied uneasily and lifted herself up onto the fire escape ladder to the warehouse they stood next to, fitting both feet up on the second rung as she evaded his hands.

"Parker, what's wrong?" He exhaled tiredly, the evening's events wearing on him.

Parker said nothing, but that look burned in her eyes. That one that said she had something to say, but just couldn't put it into words. Finally she pulled out her cell phone, from where he wasn't sure but wanted to find out, and flipped through its data. Extending an arm, she brandished the cell phone at him, "Hardison said the slutty nun sat on you. He sent me a picture."

"What?" He curled a hand around hers and the cell phone, holding tight enough that she couldn't pull away. Sure enough, a picture of him seated at a tall chair at one of the higher tables in the bar and the fake nun seated in his lap. The only thing missing from the ill-timed photo op was his beleaguered expression at being sat on, and Eliot muttered under his breath, "Dammit Hardison."

Parker scowled, creating a deep crease in her brow, as she stared at him.

"I was sittin' there talking to Nate and she just plopped right down," Eliot tried to explain and frustrated, he released her hand to rake his through his hair, "Okay, yeah, she put it out there, but I wasn't interested. She just sat down. I'm sorry."

"Really?" The frown lines slipped away and the vulnerability she hated to show and he hated to cause crept through the cracks, "Because slutty is easier than crazy. We're kind of weird you know."

The smile that curved Eliot's lips, despite the seriousness of the conversation, was knowing, "I'm familiar with us."

"Hmm," Parker mumbled, looking down. Eliot placed a sturdy hand on each of her hips, tightening and lifting her off the fire escape to have her stand in front of him. Curling each of his fingertips in, he used his grip on the fabric of her dress to haul her in closer,

"I wasn't lookin' at her babe," He said with that the pleasant rumble rolling through his chest and leaning against him, Parker let herself enjoy the sensation, "Especially not after I saw you."

The woman who never embarrassed felt a flush of warmth in her cheeks and slid her arms around his shoulders, a hand into his hair to toy with the long strands. Running a hand over the curve of her hip, Eliot looked back up at her and grinned devilishly,

"Where'd you get this dress?"

"Lifted it from some bar," Parker replied with an off-handed shrug, and Eliot snickered as he glanced appreciatively back down over her form.

Parker suddenly tightened her hand around a fistful of his hair and pulled back with not enough force to hurt, but enough to get her point across rather firmly, "No slutty nuns."

"No slutty nuns," Eliot repeated solemnly, leaning his head back to decrease the pull. Seeming satisfied with his answer, Parker released her grip on his hair and sank back into his hold. Her face nuzzling in the crook of his neck, she nearly missed his voice as he murmured, "We okay?"

Parker lifted her head, his earlier knowing smile having found its way to her face, "Yeah. We're good."

"Good," He managed to reply just before she caught his face between both hands and crushed her lips over his. Eliot didn't hesitate in curling her in and lifting her up off the sidewalk. Parker grinned into the kiss, relief mixing with that warm, happy feeling that always curled in belly when he kissed her.

"Take me home Sparky," Parker instructed in a low voice a moment later, and Eliot easily followed her instruction.