Parker hates being sick.
It's a waste of time – she'd rather be stealing something expensive or planning to steal something expensive or counting her money or climbing the side of a building – basically, anything else, and instead she's stuck in bed feeling like something Sophie walked on in her spikiest spiked heels.
Nate acting like she has the plague isn't helping things, either. He'd taken one look at her and practically ran the other way. Hardison had only stuck around long enough to drop off his third-best laptop and a handful of DVDs she's never heard of. Eliot was off somewhere, somewhere not here, probably beating someone up and having a great time doing it. None of them seems to care that she's probably going to die here alone, surrounded by used kleenex and half-full glasses of orange juice and cough drop wrappers.
She's just worked up a good pout when she hears a noise. For a second she seriously thinks about crawling under the covers and hoping whoever it is will just go away, but then she hears a cupboard open, and no way is she going to let someone she doesn't know mess around in her kitchen, so she eases out from under the covers and bends down to grab the bat she keeps under the bed before she tiptoes out into the hall.
There's a loud clatter from the kitchen and she decides to make her move.
"Ha!" She jumps into the doorway, swinging the bat low and hard, just like Eliot taught her. The guy goes down, and when he grabs her ankle and tugs, so does she – right onto Eliot, who pushes against her shoulder, flipping her onto her back and holding her down against the cool tile.
"Jesus, Parker. What the hell?" Eliot looks pissed, but Parker can see the smile lurking around his mouth, and when she starts to giggle, he smiles for real and all Parker can think is, 'Pretty.' She's thinking about leaning up and kissing Eliot's smile when he rolls to the side and flops down onto the tile.
"Guess you were paying attention when I showed you how to kick ass, huh?"
Parker's not sure if she should be offended or not. Of course, she was paying attention. She huffs out a breath and asks, "What are you doing here?"
Eliot doesn't answer, just stands up and pulls Parker after and into the kitchen, where he takes the cover off a big pot sitting on the stove.
Parker leans in, sniffing at the contents. "What is it? It smells delicious."
"It's chicken soup, Parker." Eliot ladles out a serving into a bowl and hands it to Parker. He watches as she slurps up spoonful after spoonful, then smiles when she tips the bowl up for a long drink of the broth. "Good for the soul and all that, yeah?'
Parker nods and says, "And yummy in my tummy, too!"
"Yeah, it's that too. Hasn't anyone ever made you chicken noodle soup before?"
Parker shrugs a bit, then shakes her head before she holds the bowl out for more. She thinks Eliot looks a bit sad, but when he hands her another full bowl of soup, she leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, and yeah, there it is – another beautiful smile.
"Thanks, Eliot. This is...nice."
Eliot shrugs and ducks his head, says, "Yeah, yeah," and serves himself a bowl of soup. He follows when Parker goes out into the living room, settling on the couch and tugging Parker down to sit beside him.
As she cuddles up on the couch with Eliot, Parker thinks maybe being sick isn't all bad....