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"Someone's following me." Eliot mumbles, hoping his ear piece still picks his voice up. He knows it will, because he has said some choice words under his breath that Hardison called him out for later.
"You sure?" Hardison asks through the ear piece. "Who?"
"Fifteen feet behind me, six foot tall, baseball cap and a beard. He's doing a pretty good job of pretending to not be following me." Eliot glances behind him - the guy is still there, weaving through the crowd. "I'm better, though."
"'Course you are." Hardison quips. "I'm tryna get a camera on the guy but he keeps ducking his head."
"I told you, he's good." Eliot mutters. No matter how many times he tells Hardison things, he never seems to listen.
"Someone's hunting our hunter." Parker whispers, creepy as she possibly can. She should be back in the van with Hardison by now. "Just punch him, El."
"There's too many people." Eliot insists. He just left a job, he doesn't want to attract attention right now. Trying to keep the panic out of his voice, he says, "Can someone get me out of here?"
This is the agreement they have. Eliot gets the shit beaten out of him - punched and kicked and cut and bruised - and then afterwards he gets picked up and taken home. He doesn't have to drag himself out of the gutter, crawl home and lick his wounds. Instead Sophie puts ice packs on his bruises, Parker cleans his scrapes, Hardison gets him a beer, and Nate (reluctantly) lets Eliot cook a full meal for everyone in his kitchen. It's how he winds down.
It's close to having a family. Eliot isn't like Parker, he knows what family feels like, or at least he did at one time. They aren't like a traditional family - Nate is nothing like his father and Sophie is certainly not Eliot's mother. But they care about each other, a lot, enough to do anything for any of them. Enough for Nate to let Eliot hijack his kitchen once a week.
"Hold on, Eliot, I'm on my way." Sophie says gently.
"So am I." Nate confirms. "Hardison, do you know who this guy is?"
"I can't run facial recognition without a face!" Hardison exclaims, exasperated. "Seriously, this guy is more pro than most pros. He must know where every camera on this street is."
"He has one of those chain thingies." Parker says vaguely. Eliot imagines she's making some kind of gesture that explains it to Hardison, because he hums in agreement. "Like those Albanian mafia guys we stole from last week."
"Who's we? That was all you, baby girl." Hardison reminds her.
"I'm being trailed by the fucking Albanian mafia?" Eliot hisses. "Parker, what the hell?"
"I'm nearly with you, Eliot, don't freak out." Sophie says. "Nate just picked me up."
"What are you going to do against the Albanian mafia?" Eliot snaps, then regrets it. Sophie doesn't deserve that.
"We're going to put you in a car and get the hell out of here." Sophie mutters. "I told you this job was a bad idea." She must be talking to Nate.
"You think all my ideas are bad ideas." Nate responds.
Eliot looks behind him again - the Albanian mafia guy is getting close to him. Why is he follow Eliot and not looking for Parker? Maybe he knows that they're friends. His best friend, who would do anything for, even be stalked through the streets by a grunt. He isn't mad at her, not one bit. Parker is a thief by nature, the same way he's a fighter by nature. Two different kinds of fire that will not be put out.
A red sports car pulls up beside him, and it takes Eliot a second to realise that Nate is in the driver's seat. At first he doesn't recognise the car, so blinded by the panic that he takes it as a threat, and swerves further onto the pavement. Then he notices the stupid hat that Sophie was wearing for this con. Without a second thought, he jumps into the back of the car, and it speeds off. Eliot's tail jogs after them for a moment, but quickly gives up.
"We've got him." Nate confirms.
Eliot inhales, finally untensing. He had been walking so fast without running that he has been out of breath since he noticed he was being tailed. Every car behind them could be more danger, though, and he refuses to relax until Hardison's voice comes over his earpiece again.
"Okay, that guy is not Albanian. He's an assistant at the bank we just robbed, former Marine trying to be a hero." Hardison says. "We're clear."
"Let's get you home." Sophie leans back to pat him on the knee.