(no subject)
It hadn't been a good con. Nate can admit it now that it's over, and that they all made it out alive. That he hasn't admitted it out loud yet doesn't bother him until Sophie takes a cigarette from a man at the bar at McRory's, and proceeds outside to presumably smoke it. Even though he knows it probably isn't the best idea he's ever had, he takes his generous glass of whiskey and follows her outside.
“I thought you quit.” He shoves a hand in his pocket and doesn't look at her, instead focusing his gaze somewhere in the neutral distance.
“I thought you did, too,” the tone of her voice makes him glance sharply at her, and she looked pointedly at his glass. He raises it in a toast as she brings the lit cigarette to her lips.
He lets the silence drag for several more minutes, bar patrons filtering in and out in front of them. When his glass is mostly empty and the smoke stops curling into the air from his left, Nate turns his head to look at her and sighs.
“It wasn't the best job, I'll admit it.”
Her eyes widen in surprise or outrage, he can't tell. She brings her hands up in disbelief and then drops them, shaking her head. “'Not the best job?'” She quotes back at him, and he decides it was probably outrage. “Nate, he could have killed you!”
“Could have,” he agrees, and his tone must have been too casual, because she glares at him. “I knew Eliot would come through. It was fine.”
“Ten minutes before Eliot was tied to a chair in the basement!”
“Soph, he said he had it under control.”
“Which only means he's as pig headed as you are!”
He can't think of an argument to that. The only reason he's ever won a battle of wills with Eliot is because he has instilled the belief in him (in all the team, really), that he has planned for anything that might come up. They trust him, and he understands that jobs like this put a strain on that trust.
Sophie just always seems to be the one to express it.
He's been silent for too long, because she starts to walk past him, and it's instinct that makes him reach out for her arm. “Sophie, I'm fine. We're all fine.”
What she says next makes him drop his arm back to his side, his whole body numb.
“I don't want to do this anymore, Nate.”
She watches him for a moment, then continues, “I don't want to keep taking this jobs with haphazard plans that put us all in unnecessary danger, especially now.”
“What do you mean, especially now? What's different about now?”
She smiles, but there's no humor to it, no softness. It's sad and hard and it scares him that maybe he put it there. “We're different about now, Nate.” She reaches out and touches his hand, but doesn't take it. “I don't want to keep doing this knowing that we were never able to be honest with each other.” He opens his mouth to tell her to just be honest then, dammit, but she stops him short. “I won't be the only one to be honest in this, Nate. I need to know that you're right there with me.”
Her fingers touching his are the only spot of warmth, and he tries to find words, but she keeps talking.
“The team needs this break, Nate. All of us. I'm going to take the time - I'll be back when we agreed, but... You know where to find me. I hope you do.”
She's gone, then, only the fading touch of warmth and the sharp smell of cigarette smoke indicating that she'd been there at all. Moving as if shaking off a dream, he tosses back the rest of his drink and lets out a long breath.
“Dammit.”
“I thought you quit.” He shoves a hand in his pocket and doesn't look at her, instead focusing his gaze somewhere in the neutral distance.
“I thought you did, too,” the tone of her voice makes him glance sharply at her, and she looked pointedly at his glass. He raises it in a toast as she brings the lit cigarette to her lips.
He lets the silence drag for several more minutes, bar patrons filtering in and out in front of them. When his glass is mostly empty and the smoke stops curling into the air from his left, Nate turns his head to look at her and sighs.
“It wasn't the best job, I'll admit it.”
Her eyes widen in surprise or outrage, he can't tell. She brings her hands up in disbelief and then drops them, shaking her head. “'Not the best job?'” She quotes back at him, and he decides it was probably outrage. “Nate, he could have killed you!”
“Could have,” he agrees, and his tone must have been too casual, because she glares at him. “I knew Eliot would come through. It was fine.”
“Ten minutes before Eliot was tied to a chair in the basement!”
“Soph, he said he had it under control.”
“Which only means he's as pig headed as you are!”
He can't think of an argument to that. The only reason he's ever won a battle of wills with Eliot is because he has instilled the belief in him (in all the team, really), that he has planned for anything that might come up. They trust him, and he understands that jobs like this put a strain on that trust.
Sophie just always seems to be the one to express it.
He's been silent for too long, because she starts to walk past him, and it's instinct that makes him reach out for her arm. “Sophie, I'm fine. We're all fine.”
What she says next makes him drop his arm back to his side, his whole body numb.
“I don't want to do this anymore, Nate.”
She watches him for a moment, then continues, “I don't want to keep taking this jobs with haphazard plans that put us all in unnecessary danger, especially now.”
“What do you mean, especially now? What's different about now?”
She smiles, but there's no humor to it, no softness. It's sad and hard and it scares him that maybe he put it there. “We're different about now, Nate.” She reaches out and touches his hand, but doesn't take it. “I don't want to keep doing this knowing that we were never able to be honest with each other.” He opens his mouth to tell her to just be honest then, dammit, but she stops him short. “I won't be the only one to be honest in this, Nate. I need to know that you're right there with me.”
Her fingers touching his are the only spot of warmth, and he tries to find words, but she keeps talking.
“The team needs this break, Nate. All of us. I'm going to take the time - I'll be back when we agreed, but... You know where to find me. I hope you do.”
She's gone, then, only the fading touch of warmth and the sharp smell of cigarette smoke indicating that she'd been there at all. Moving as if shaking off a dream, he tosses back the rest of his drink and lets out a long breath.
“Dammit.”