This story will (there's a 90% certainty at this point) be Nathan/Eliot. If you don't like that, don't get too attached. Possible other pairings, however, are still up in the air.

The title "Rogue" may change.

Feedback is so loved there are no words.

Nathan knocked on the door to Eliot's office. Technically, he knew, he owned everything in the offices of "Leverage Accounting," but it didn't hurt anything for him to be polite.

"Yeah, come in."

He turned the knob and opened the door. Eliot had his back to him (incredible change that it made in the potential danger that the man represented), and was dressed only in his pants, the belt of which he appeared to still be fastening. The rest of his clothes were scattered around the office, mostly concentrated around the couch, which had apparently been converted into a bed.

"You stay here last night?" Nate asked, both in surprise and to direct attention away from the actual object of that surprise.

"Yeah," Eliot answered, grabbing his socks and sitting in his office chair to pull them on. "Didn't have a job, and I was around here anyway. That a problem?"

Nate shook his head. "No, I'm just surprised."

Eliot might have laughed; it was hard to tell with him. He turned back to the room, grabbing his shoes and pulling them on, giving Nathan a view of the mark he'd seen before. He had to say something.

"That tattoo…"

Eliot glanced back, rotating his shoulder forward so he could almost make out the numbers under the barcode, as though he'd forgotten it was there. He didn't say anything, though, just looked back to his shoes, letting his hair fall in front of his face.

Nathan closed the door behind him. The doors, like the walls, were soundproof, and Eliot distrusted Alec enough that his computer was in another soundproofed box. It was the only thing Alec could have bugged, so if he couldn't hear through it, he couldn't hear. No one could.

Eliot nodded. "You know them."

"I've had dealings with them." Nate wanted to keep that chapter of his life quiet, but he felt he owed the man in front of him an explanation. "I helped them recapture some of their rogue 'students' before I found out what they were."

"Still are," Eliot corrected sardonically. He'd finished pulling on his shoes, and now he grabbed for a T-shirt, pulling it on quickly as though finally eager to hide the barcode tattoo.

"That's why…" The words died in Nate's throat; they seemed too obvious. Of course that was why there was no word on Eliot's whereabouts from age six to age twenty-three; that was obvious. It was too obvious to mention it.

Eliot had finished putting on his shirt. He stood, turning to face Nathan for the first time. It struck Nathan, watching the grace with which the man did just that simple action, just how dangerous Eliot could be if he really wanted to.

"This gonna be a problem?" Eliot asked.

Nathan knew what he meant. "The others don't know," he confirmed, "and they won't find out from me."

Eliot nodded. "Good," he said. Expression returning to normal, he asked, "So, what did you want?"