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Parker lay on top of him, “And we’re getting out of here, when?”
Eliot brought his hand up, squinted at his watch and sighed, “Two minutes less than the last time you asked.”
“I’m bored.” She complained.
“I’m not exactly entertained here either.” he drawled.
She was quiet for almost thirty seconds, “I have a tattoo, wanna see it?”
Eliot grinned, “Is it on your butt?” He grunted as she slammed her elbow down on his ribs.
“It’s Tweety.” she pulled at the shoulder of her sleeve, exposing the yellow bird on her upper arm. “Do you have any tattoos?”
“Nope.”
She tilted her head, staring at him, “Where’d you get that scar by your mouth?”
Eliot looked away, squirming a bit.
“Well?” she prodded when he didn’t reply.
“I was ten, it was a lion and I’m pretty sure it’s time to get out of here.”
“Not yet.” Hardison’s voice came over the communicator. “I wanna hear about the lion.”
"Hardison." Eliot growled, managing to convey a threat of pain in that one word.
"No, no, no. I want to hear about this lion."
"It's a long story."
"We got time, give." Parker traced the scar with a fingernail and Eliot flinched. "Did it try to eat you?"
"No."
"How did you get that close to a lion when you were ten?" Alec asked.
"It belonged to my uncles; you aren't going to let this go, are you?"
"Nope.” Parker crossed her arms on his chest and rested her chin on her wrists as she watched him. “How did your uncles end up with a lion?"
"They ordered it through the mail.”
She looked delighted, "You can get lions mailed to you?"
There was an idea he had to crush, and quickly. "Of course not, it came on a truck."
"Well I should certainly hope so. Imagine what would happen if one of the postal workers found a lion in a box."
They could hear the clicking of the keyboard as Hardison checked their status, "Why did they order a lion?"
"They wanted to shoot it."
"That's horrible and mean!" Parker protested. "I wouldn't shoot a poor defenseless lion."
"They didn't shoot it."
"Well I might, if it was going to eat you."
"Thanks, Parker." Eliot replied, with a hint of sarcasm.
"You still haven't explained how a lion gave you that scar." Alec reminded him.
"I fell, okay."
"You?” Alec laughed, “You fell?"
"On a sword."
"Oh, now this is getting good. Wait 'till I get some popcorn before you tell us the rest."
"Shut up, Hardison."
"So what does the lion have to do with you falling on a sword?" Parker asked.
"My uncle was teaching me how to fight with a sword and Jasmine..."
"The lion's name was Jasmine? I thought that was the name of the princess.” Parker rambled. “What was the tiger's name? Abu or something, I forgot."
"Abu was the monkey, Raja was the tiger." Hardison said smugly.
"You want me to tell this story or not?"
"Sorry,” Parker looked contrite. “Please continue."
"Jasmine got a little nervous about all the noise and she jumped between us; I tripped over her and got cut on my uncle's sword."
"That's it?” Hardison said, “That's all there was to it?"
"What?"
"Nothing. I just expected it to involve you fighting off an army of assassins or something."
"Well I don't believe you." Parker pouted, "I bet you were in Africa and you had to rescue a beautiful princess from a ravenous beast and all you had was a pocket comb to defend yourself with."
"Parker, you have some imagination.” The keyboard clicked some more, “Nate is signing for your crate right now, you should be moving to the dock any time."
The crate bumped as the forklift picked it up.
Eliot tried to hide his smile as he held on to Parker to keep her steady while they were driven outside. "Actually,” He whispered to her, “all I had was a toothbrush."