Eliot grinned at Buffy, not adding that he never drank anything harder than beer or wine. He'd learned his lesson the hard way that he should never let himself get tipsy.
Nothing good resulted.
"I just had ta ask. Livin' with thieves like I do? Parker's idea of a group outting is stealing a painting together. That's not even touching the drinking games Hardison's invented."
Seriously, a drinking game where you pick pocket and return things to people at a bar is not a bright idea, especially since the whole point is to get some drunk you mess up.
Sometimes he wondered about his team mates.
Eliot followed her out into the garage before taking the lead and leading her to his truck. It had been a week but he had no trouble remembering where he'd parked. When you lived the life he had you didn't forget where you stowed your getaway car.
"You have ta make time ta go outside. It aint healthy to stay indoors all day. I've half a mind ta drag you out to the ranch I used to go to when I lived in LA." The soft smile on his face at even the mention of the place said plenty about how he felt about it.
With that he climbed into the drivers seat and started the engine.