Disclaimer and Notes: Not mine, never will be. This crossover fusion was written for sperrywink at her request.

Only If for the Night

Chapter 1

The last thing Eliot expected with their latest client – a woman hurt by an investment scam – was that he'd meet his Sentinel. He thought he'd missed his chances: Perry, one of his protection clients, had taught him so much about being a Guide, but Perry had been killed before they could complete the ritual to bind them together forever; Jim Ellison had already met his Guide; and Christelle had drugged herself to death trying to cope without a Guide. He'd been so close that he'd settled for helping other Sentinels find their permanent Guides, settled for protecting them until he could find them their Guides, settled for always having that empty place in his soul. He'd thought he'd never find his Sentinel, especially after the way the bonding ritual with Perry had been so violently interrupted. Eliot figured he just wasn't destined to ever find another Sentinel who wanted a) to be a Sentinel and b) wanted to be his Sentinel, with all the insanity that entailed.

Then Bryan Grant walked into the bar. He wore a gray sport coat over a white button-down shirt, faded jeans, and cowboy boots. He had a wide forehead, deep-set green eyes, high cheekbones, a strong, angular jaw, and a mouth that was quick to smile when he caught sight of his equally striking sister, who'd been the Leverage team's client. His reddish-brown hair had a slight wave to it and was cut fashionably short. The clothing Bryan wore didn't hide that he was someone who worked out; instead, it only emphasized his broad shoulders and medium build.

Seeing him, Eliot felt the instant recognition of awareness he'd come to associate with the presence of a Sentinel, and on top of it, the instant flare of want. For a moment, he was glad he hadn't met Bryan at the start of the case; as it was, he was hard-pressed to remain calm and in the shadows. Bryan hadn't been at any of the client meetings because his sister had wanted to present him with results.

Now Eliot debated his next move, well aware that his team was watching. Parker and Hardison were curled up with each other; Sophie and Nate were talking with Liz and Bryan. Eliot knew he couldn’t, wouldn't ignore the attraction he felt for Bryan; the brief encounter he'd had with Jim Ellison a few weeks before had only served to remind him just how exquisite sex with a Sentinel could be. The team knew Eliot swung both ways; over the years, they'd become family, which meant Eliot was likely to get hammered with questions come morning.

It's not as if they've never seen you flirt with a client once the job's done, he reminded himself. Most of the time, it went nowhere; Nate had a firm rule about being involved with a client, but Eliot – like most of the team – was selective about which of Nate's rules he followed, and when. Eliot was sure Nate would understand; it wouldn't be the first time any of them had gotten involved with a client after a case was through.

Blowing out a breath, mentally chiding himself for his caution, Eliot waited until Sophie and Nate departed the table where Bryan and his sister sat before heading in that direction. He was barely two feet away from his previous position when he saw Bryan's head jerk up and turn his way. Bryan then leaned down to say something to his sister – make excuses, Eliot guessed – before he rose to meet Eliot. With a rueful chuckle, Eliot stayed where he was, grateful that the corner was private.

"You smell good," Bryan said with a smile as he approached. "What's your name?"

"Eliot Spencer," Eliot said. "You're Bryan Grant."

Bryan's smile widened. "Ah, so you're part of Nate's team. Thank you, by the way."

Eliot shrugged. The heist had been a clean one; he'd walked away with no bruises. "You're welcome."

"I don't know why, but I feel like I have to know you," Bryan said, wonder in his voice. He reached to touch Eliot, stroking down Eliot's left shoulder, over the leather jacket he wore. "My headache's gone with you here."

"You always have a headache?" Eliot couldn't help asking.

Bryan's smile turned rueful. "Always. Too many sights, too many sounds, too many smells. I thought I had an answer to what was going on a few years back, but –" Bryan shrugged "—guess the guy made it all up, so I just learned to cope."

"He didn't make it up," Eliot told him, grasping Bryan's hand and meeting his gaze. "He was protecting his Sentinel."

Bryan went still. "How do you know?" he demanded, eyes narrowing, then followed it immediately with, "You know him – them."

Eliot nodded. "I know how to help you."

The look Bryan shot him was grateful and abruptly intense at the same time. "How about we start with getting out of here? I'd really like to be alone with you." In case Eliot had any doubts as to where the evening would end, Bryan pressed closer. "I want to see if you taste as good as you smell."

Eliot was tempted to give Bryan a sample via a kiss, but he knew the pub was too public. While he didn't care too much about what other people thought, Eliot's experience with other Sentinels told him that they could easily go overboard with experiencing sensation. Eliot didn’t know Bryan well enough to know how fine his control was. Instead, he contented himself with touching Bryan's hip. "I'll follow you home; just give me the address."

Bryan pouted, but he pulled himself visibly back. "It's like I want to crawl into you and never leave," he said ruefully. "I usually don't do this with people I meet, I swear." He stepped back and took a deep breath. "I drive a blue Pontiac TransAm," he said. "I'll lead you."

Eliot nodded agreement. "Let me just let my friends know I'm heading out."

"I have to say goodbye to Liz; she'll worry if I don't. Meet you out in the parking lot in five minutes?"

---

Chapter 2

To Eliot's relief, none of the team seemed particularly concerned about his departure, though he wasn't too surprised when Hardison texted him a message: "Bryan Grant, medical device sales, he's clean. Check your email if you want details." Amused at the message, which mean that Hardison had pulled a background check, Eliot didn't bother reading the email. Though the text message was helpful, Eliot trusted his instincts.

Bryan lived in a condo on the South End. Bryan paused before pulling into the gated area reserved for residents, stepping out of his car long enough to give Eliot directions to the guest parking area two blocks up the street. Eliot squeezed his silver truck into the last free spot before locking the car and walking back to the front of the building. Anticipation of what was to happen made him pick up his pace, though he forced himself to slow, not wanting to appear overly anxious.

Bryan waited at the entrance, looking faintly nervous, as if he'd half-expected that Eliot would just keep driving and not come back. Eliot smiled understandingly as he stepped closer; Bryan didn't know him well enough yet. "Any later, and I'd have to park in the street," Eliot told him.

"Yeah, that lot tends to get full quick," Bryan said, relaxing somewhat as he turned to unlock the front door. Pulling it open, he let Eliot inside before pulling the door securely shut. The lobby was a small but well-maintained affair, with mailboxes on the left, the elevator squarely in the middle and stairs to the right. Closed doors flanked the lobby, and the signage indicated they led to the management office and to the first floor units on either side of the lobby.

The elevator was already at the first floor when Bryan pressed the call button. Following Eliot inside the elevator, Bryan pressed the button for the fourth floor as he asked, "So what do you do?"

Eliot grinned and turned to face the other man. "I hit people."

Bryan gaped for a moment before he recovered admirably. "Was there a lot of call for that when you helped my sister?"

Eliot shrugged. "Not as much as in some cases." He paused, aware that the attraction between them was banked until Bryan got a better sense of who he was. The primitive tribal guardian within Bryan might have recognized Eliot as his Guide, but the modern man needed the reasoning. "I want to protect people. Sometimes that requires teaching people lessons in a language they'll understand."

"You ever think about doing something that wasn't so hard on your body?" Bryan asked, sounding concerned, as the elevator doors slid open and they stepped out.

Eliot shrugged. "Sometimes I get tired of the violence and go cook for someone as a private chef." He shrugged again. "I get restless of being in the same place all the time. Your sister mentioned you travel a lot."

Bryan smiled wryly as they headed down the hall to his corner unit condo. "I was an ER nurse for fifteen years," he said. "Got sick of seeing the same stupidity over and over again, patching up some of the same people, and decided to do something different. That was five years ago, and I've been selling and educating people on CPAPs ever since." He studied Eliot a moment as they came to a stop in front of Bryan's door. "Something tells me you're not likely to change careers."

Eliot chuckled. "No. Not since Nate offered me the chance to work for him."

Bryan considered that as he unlocked the door. Gesturing Eliot inside, he followed him inside, saying, "Welcome to my home."

A gas fireplace immediately drew Eliot's eye. Exposed brick and tall, arched windows bordered the living/dining area. A second bedroom just off the living room currently served as extra storage. The pass-through kitchen looked more like a luxury galley than Eliot expected. Just beyond it, Eliot could see what looked like a pantry closet; he guessed the master bedroom was off to its left.

Bryan turned to him, looking abruptly nervous. "I don't know what it is, but I feel safe with you," he said. He laughed shortly. "Even knowing that you're not the kind of guy I usually date."

"Maybe that just means you've been looking at safe and boring," Eliot suggested. He closed the distance between them. "I can't always tell you the answers to any question you ask of me, but I can promise you I'll never deliberately hurt you."

Bryan studied him for a moment, then shook his head. "Later, I'll figure this out," he said. "Right now I just –" He kissed Eliot.

Passion exploded between them. Staggered, Bryan drew back but didn't let go. He panted heavily for a moment before saying, "Damn, you're dangerous, but I still want you." He turned and led the way to the master bedroom. Eliot admired the view of Bryan's ass as he followed the other man.

Eliot's hands itched with the need to touch his Sentinel, to know him as intimately as he could. Impatience warred with desire and practicality as he stepped into the bedroom. Eliot glimpsed a study black-framed bed topped with a hunter plaid comforter, flanked by matching nightstands, before Bryan started undressing. Bryan shoved the comforter and sheets down towards the foot of the bed, then took a tube of lube and a condom out of one of the dressers. He then slid onto the bed.

Taking his cue, Eliot undressed quickly, then joined the other man on the bed. As soon as he did, Bryan kissed him again, but Eliot wanted more. As if sensing his need, Bryan moved to explore his body, tasting him in an apparently random but maddeningly arousing manner. Just when Eliot had resigned himself to being the subject of a Sentinel's inspection, Bryan took his cock deep into his throat.

Eliot nearly lifted off the bed at the shock of sensation. "God, Bryan!"

In reply, Bryan braced his left arm across Eliot's pelvis and sucked harder. Unable to do anything else, Eliot surrendered to the pleasure his new lover was giving him. Bryan didn't stop until Eliot shot his release. Swallowing, Bryan licked his lips, making sure that Eliot saw him do it.

"Mmm, you taste sweet," Bryan said as he reached for the lube. "Just like I thought you would."

Too spent by passion to think, Eliot stared at him. Bryan laughed softly and kissed him. "I'll take that as a compliment." He put on the condom, grabbed the lube from the nightstand, and started preparing Eliot. Inch by inch, Bryan worked his cock into Eliot's ass, until Eliot couldn't stand it anymore.

"Bryan, just fuck me, please."

Bryan stared at him for a moment, then smiled crookedly. "As you wish," he said, then drove into Eliot, hard.

"Oh, yes, like that," Eliot cried. He rose to meet Bryan's thrusts, and pulled his body closer.

Bryan moaned and dropped his head into the crook of Eliot's neck as he began to piston towards a climax. "Sweet, God, so tight, God. Never like this, never like this, oh God." His voice was a mantra of pleasure-driven compliments Eliot only half heard. Consumed by desire and by the sense of a bond snapping into place, Eliot couldn't think; he could only feel. Never before had something felt so right, so pleasurable, so hot that he knew he'd never get enough of it.

In the aftermath, Bryan grabbed a washcloth to clean them both up, then cuddled Eliot close as he pulled the covers over them both. He was quiet for a few minutes before he said, "I feel like I've been looking for you my whole life."

Eliot chuckled roughly. "You have." He sighed, aware that he'd just committed himself. He couldn't get out of being a Guide as long as there was someone who needed one; he'd already tried after Christelle had proven herself to be as evil as they came. The shaman he'd talked to had told him that the Spirits had a plan for him, that one day he'd find the right one. "I'm your Guide."

Bryan rose up on one elbow to stare at him. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Short answer is that you need a guy like me to help you not overload on any of your senses. That's why you have a headache all the time – sight, taste, smell, hearing, touch all are turned up higher than most people. You probably could tell when you were in the ER who was going to need more attention sooner, even without any testing."

"Yeah, people thought I was psychic, but I could –" Bryan broke off. "How do you know this? Did those guys in Cascade tell you this?"

Eliot sat up in the bed. Shaking his head, he told Bryan, "No, one of my clients was a Sentinel. His family knew about them, and used their knowledge in business. He hired me to be his bodyguard and Guide. He taught me a lot about what being a Guide to a Sentinel meant. The night he was killed, we were in the middle of conducting a ceremony to bind me permanently to him."

Bryan studied Eliot a moment. "I'm surprised you'd be willing to be with anyone after that."

Shrugging, Eliot said, "You have to love someone sometime, or else all that bitterness eats you up, drives you crazy."

"I'd hate to go through that. I've had patients die in the ER, but that's different; you learn to expect that. Having the person you were meant to be with – and do I understand correctly this is all destiny-type stuff?" At Eliot's nod, Bryan continued, "die like you describe would probably shatter me. I've always believed there's someone out there for me, but –" He hesitated a moment. "I don't want to pressure you. I feel like I could fall in love with you. At the very least, I feel compelled to keep you here. Not just in my bed, but in my life. This is so weird." He gestured helplessly.

"Not for us it isn't." Eliot paused. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't really want to leave. I'd like to get to know you better," he grinned and kissed Bryan "in bed and out of it. Nate doesn't have another case scheduled until next week, so I’m free until then."

"Then what?" Bryan asked. "I know this pretty heavy stuff considering we met earlier tonight, but if you're right and you are my Guide, then I think it's fair that we discuss what happens next."

Eliot kissed him again. "It's fair, but I'm hungry. How well stocked is your pantry? I can cook and talk."

Bryan grinned. "You're in luck. I had the urge to do a grocery run earlier today; wound up buying shit I've never bought before, but something told me I'd need them."

Eliot grinned and got out of bed. Pulling on his clothes, he told Bryan, "Listen to that voice; it'll keep you safe."

"Okay," Bryan agreed as he pulled on a robe he took from the back of the master bathroom door, "but I'm telling you, I never buy shallots and mushrooms. I like them, but I never buy them. Or truffle oil. I'm usually not home enough to cook. My sister's the one who insisted that I have at least good cookware – she sometimes comes over to cook."

Eliot smiled and silently thanked the Spirits for looking out for him and his Sentinel. Whatever it took to make their relationship work, Eliot swore he was going to find a way. Something told him he'd have to let his teammates in on his secret, but for now, the most important thing in his life was walking right in front of him, directing him on where everything was in the kitchen. This time, Eliot was preparing a meal for his Sentinel, not someone else's who needed a kick in the ass to know when to perform a courtship ritual or lose his Sentinel forever. This time, he wasn't a Guide only for a night. This time, Eliot was playing for keeps. He caught the flash of his spirit wolf, and grinned at the nod of approval he received.