Chapter Text
“And what if I don't?” Eliot asked.
“Don't what?”
“Walk away.”
There was a moment of silence. Eliot had half-hoped that would be enough, that he could take the tiniest of steps towards them, and they'd be there to meet him, but he knew it wouldn't happen. They were all lost here, all vulnerable. They'd put their cards on the table, and fine, so maybe it wasn't as bad for them; if this all went wrong, they still had each other, He still knew it couldn't have been easy. They'd done their part; they'd put themselves out there. Now it was time for the retrieval specialist to bring them home.
“I don't do monogamy,” he said, launching into the spiel he'd given a thousand times, about how he couldn't bear to be tied down to just one person, just one place, about how he went crazy without his freedom, and then stopped at the laugh which came from either side of him.
“What?” he asked
“Monogamy?” Parker giggled. “Not really an option here.” Damn, she was right about that much. He couldn't give them the usual talk; not only because this wasn't just one person he was dealing with, but because he truly loved these two. He might not be able to stay with them all the time – settling down wasn't in his nature – but he knew he'd always come back to them.
“Fidelity then,” he amended. “It just ain't something I do. And this isn't some commitment issue, or anything like that. I'm committed to the... team. And that's for keeps.” The team. That was one hell of a euphemism. He was normally so good at being blunt, and just saying what needed to be said, but this whole situation had thrown him off balance. “It's just the way I am. I can't live on... pretzels. Okay? No matter how much I love... pretzels, sometimes I need chips, or breadsticks, or some damn fruit.” Euphemisms again, or mostly euphemisms. He meant the thing about the fruit. How could they live on all that processed crap they ate? He wondered if he'd been wrong to say the thing about the pretzels. Was that supposed to be something just for them? But neither of them seemed to mind.
“But,” Parker said, sounding small and vulnerable again, “you do want the... pretzels? Because we've got plenty. More than enough for three.”
“Which is her way of saying 'too many for two'. Seriously man. Save us from ourselves. You know you want to.” Eliot would have known Alec was kidding, even without Parker's laugh. After all, these two, well, they were the last thing he'd ever want to be saved from.
“You don't mind me seeing other... snacks?” He had to know. He had to know if they could accept him on his own terms. He knew from bitter experience that if he tried to pretend that he was something he wasn't, it would only end up hurting them all.
“Hey man,” Alec said, “we're trying to give you something here, not take something away. We're thieves and crooks. We know that rules are made to be broken, and not just law-type rules. Relationship rules as well. Who cares what other people think? We just need to find what works for us.”
“We'll make it work,” Parker said, and she sounded so certain that they both found that they believed her.
***
The rest of the night was all soft words and wandering hands, the three of them basking in the glow of loving and being loved. It was dawn before any of them started yawning, and – miracle of miracles – it was Eliot who fell asleep first, though Hardison knew that he and Parker weren't far behind.
“Hey Alec,” Parker said, just as they were falling asleep, “I think we stole ourselves an Eliot.”