Daffodils, Chapter 4
Title: Daffodils
Author: downbythebay_4
Rated: M
Summary: Nate/Sophie. Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future.
My submission for the Leverage Reverse Big Bang, art by crescent_gaia. Many thanks to alinaandalion for beta-reading; all remaining mistakes are, of course, mine.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Four
“We trust Nate to make sure the plan works. We trust you to make sure we're all okay.”
--Alec Hardison, The Two Live Crew Job
A drive that should have lasted just over three hours only lasted two and a half as the van Hardison had begun to refer to as Big Ben, to Nate’s chagrin, pulled into a parking space in what they presumed to be the foothills of an expansive, green mountain range, speckled with the greys and white of rocks and sheep. It was almost five o’clock in the afternoon and Aine had been missing for almost twenty-four hours.
“Here’s some quid,” Babs offered, digging through a change purse and setting a few large coins in Sophie’s open palm. “You go on ahead to feed the meter, I’ll see if I can get ahold of Richard.”
The rest of the team trailed behind Sophie, forming a tight circle alongside the pay-station.
“Where its Scafell?” Eliot asked, looking up.
“You can’t see the summit from here,” Sophie said, pointing out across the horizon. “It’s behind Helvellyn.”
“How far to the summit,” Parker asked, hoisting her pack onto her shoulders expectantly.
“The first time we climbed it, it took us four hours,” Sophie said. “Aine was nine and Naomi was seven.”
“We’ll push; we’ll make it in two,” Nate declared.
“Not like this, we won’t,” Eliot said. “Parker’s got her stuff, but I’m in jeans; Hardison’s wearing fucking Chucks. We need water, probably food, and headlamps if we’re not going to make it off the mountain before sunset.”
“There are sports stores in all these little towns, for hikers,” Sophie said. “We’ll split up and get what we need.”
“I think y’all are forgetting that you pulled me out of bed in the middle of the night last night,” Hardison protested. “I think I have one international credit card on me with a five-hundred dollar limit.”
Nate pinched the bridge of his nose contemplatively. “That won’t get us very far.”
“What about these,” Parker produced a handful of credit cards seemingly from out of nowhere.
Hardison blinked, Sophie frowned, and Eliot rolled his eyes.
“Are those from the co-eds?” Nate asked.
“Hello? Thief,” Parker fanned out the cards demonstratively. “Besides, they’re going to jail; what do they need money for?”
Hardison touched his chin. “The police should have picked them up about an hour and a half ago. How long do you think we have before they flag the cards?”
“It’s hard to say,” Sophie replied. “Maybe an hour.”
“We’ll give it half an hour,” Babs announced, appearing all at once next to Sophie, making Hardison jump involuntarily.
Parker eyed the woman critically. “How do you keep doing that?”
“We’ll each take a card,” Babs explained. “I already have my hiking gear in the van, so I’ll swing by the grocer’s. Everyone will need lightweight clothes, boots, wool socks, backpacks, and a raincoat, just in case. It’s been dry, but that’s no reason to chance it.”
“Babs,” Sophie said. “You’ve never broken a law in your life, now you’re ready to make the leap to credit fraud?”
Babs took one of the cards from Parker and slid it into the pocket in the front of her jacket. “They left my little girl on a mountain,” she said. “The way I see it, it’s not fraud; it’s just justice.”
Sophie laughed as Parker offered her a card. “Okay. You heard the boss, get what you need, and anything else that might seem useful.”
“We split up. They probably don’t get too many Americans out here; let’s try not to draw too much attention to ourselves,” Eliot added, selecting a card and glaring at Hardison in particular. “And anything you buy, you have to carry.”
With nods of agreement they separated, approaching the town from six different directions.
Sophie dipped into the first sporting goods store she approached, and spent a moment browsing over a spinning display of sunglasses near the register and offered the cashier a smile before moving to a display of boots against the far wall.
She lifted a pair of ankle high boots with light blue trim, checking the tag to ensure they were waterproof.
“You never could resist a new pair of shoes.” Sophie jumped involuntarily as Nate appeared at her shoulder.
“I thought we agreed we’d split up,” Sophie sat down and slipped off her flats.
“Because Americans attract people’s attention,” Nate paced along the wall studying the various brands of footwear. “But you’re not American.”
Sophie shook her head. “I see.”
Nate pulled a box off the shelf and took a seat on the bench beside her. “If we’re going to do this, I need to know your head is in the right place. It’s not going to be a cake walk, for any of us, you know, but if there’s something more going on here-”
“I want to help them,” Sophie said. “It’s what we do, isn’t it?”
“Since when does ‘what we do’ include letting Eliot leave a college kid most likely with permanent brain damage,” Nate said.
Sophie scoffed. “No one lets Eliot do anything. I’m not his mother; he doesn’t have to ask my permission to do his job.”
Sophie pulled of the boots and arranged them back in the box. She collected her things and rose to her feet.
“You’re not his mother,” Nate stood, following her. “You’re his friend and he trusts you to be there when things get out of control.”
Sophie set the box on the counter and waved to the cashier. “Hold these for me,” without breaking stride she began riffling through a rack of tops made from moisture-wicking fabric.
“You wanted to see them hurt,” Nate said lowly.
“So what if I did?” she hissed, holding up a pink v-neck tee shirt and observing her reflection in the mirror. “You can’t say they didn’t deserve it.”
Nate leaned in across the clothes rack. “That’s not what we do.”
“That is exactly what we do,” Sophie said. “Every time you whip yourself into a righteous fury we finish a job with nothing but smoldering ash in our wake.”
“Then maybe we should do things differently,” Nate said.
“We’re thieves, Nate,” Sophie said retreating to the dressing room. “Like it or not, we are what we are.”
Nate took her by the wrist as she slid the curtain closed, his fingers caressing her palm between her thumb and index finger.
“Why does this mean so much to you?” he asked. “I’m just trying to understand.”
“I don’t know,” Sophie said. “I don’t know why I’m still so protective of her. All my life I could be anything to anybody; maybe I just wanted someone to be mine.”
Nate’s expression mollified. “I know you’re hurting,” he met her eyes intently. “What happened here?”
Sophie wrenched her arm away. “I don’t need pity,” she hissed. “I don’t want it. I don’t ask for it.”
Nate stepped into her, into the dressing room, and drew the curtain behind him. The closeness of their bodies left her wanting to kiss him or slap him, in almost equal proportion.
“There are two kinds of pity,” he said. “One says, ‘I see your pain and I feel sorry for you.’ The other says, ‘I recognize your pain, and I understand, because we are the same.’”
“…I would have told him the truth. I just hadn’t gotten up the courage yet.”
--Lacy Beaumont-Wellesley, The Lonely Hearts Job
~~~
Sophie laid in bed, watching the sun creep across the floor through the blinds of the Daly’s cottage. Her makeup was smudged and her hair unwashed. There was a knock on the door and Sophie burrowed deeper under the covers as Babs poked her head through the door.
“Sophie,” she called in a high-pitched warble. “Perhaps you’d better get out of bed and freshen up. You may have company today.”
Sophie sat upright in bed.
“Babs, you didn’t!”
“It’s alright,” Babs came in and sat down on the end of the bed. “Richard just had a talk with your young man, to invite him out to the cottage.”
Sophie moaned, burying her face in the pillow and falling back onto the bed.
“I can’t face him,” Sophie said. “I can’t.”
Babs rubbed circles on Sophie’s shoulder. “Whatever happened, he’s coming out here for you. You need to talk to him. He deserves that much.”
“Babs, I’m sorry,” Sophie kicked her feet under the sheets wildly. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to bring you into this. I just didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“It’s alright,” Babs said. “It’s alright. We’ll get through this.”
Babs stood up and kissed the top of Sophie’s head. “I’ll warm you up a nice bath,” she said. “With bubbles.”
Sophie through off the covers and set her feet on the floor. As she leveraged herself up, a sudden wave of dizziness forced her to sink back down onto the mattress. She groaned and pressed one arm over her belly, leaning forward to put her head between her knees.
“What am I going to do with you?”
After Sophie had showered, fixed her makeup, and made herself presentable, Babs encouraged her to take a stroll through the garden for some fresh air. She was examining a trellis covered in ivy when the car pulled down the woodchip path. Will stepped down from the driver’s side and came around to the front.
Sophie found herself longing to be able to sink back into the ivy.
“Charlotte,” he called, and stopped mid-stride. “Sophie. Sorry. It’s not bad, it’s not good, it’s just new.”
“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” Sophie said.
“For what?” Will laughed. “You lied. The name, the boarding school, the vineyard in the south of France. You made it all up. So what? What makes you think that any of that is the reason I love you.”
Sophie nibbled on one fingernail. “I didn’t, strictly speaking, make up the vineyard.”
“Let’s just start over,” he said. “We can go back to the way things were.”
“We can’t go back,” Sophie said.
“Says who?” Will replied. “No one can tell us what to do. We’ve already broken every rule in the book!”
“I’m pregnant,” Sophie shouted.
Will stood silently. For a long, treacherous moment she thought he would turn and run away, like they were balanced precipitously on some sort of Ferris wheel and one stray breath could send them spinning toward the bottom.
“Please say something,” Sophie said.
Will took her face between his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. When she began to cry, he kissed her.
“So this is a boulder field,” Parker said, leaping effortlessly from one rock from the next. “Why hasn’t someone installed one of these at the Louvre?”
“Take your time!” Richard Daly called after her. Every bit as small, white-haired, and inexplicably energetic as his wife. “We don’t need any sprained ankles.”
Sophie waved him off genially. “She’ll be fine.”
Further back, Hardison panted. “I think I’m dying.”
“Nonsense,” Babs prodded him in the behind with her walking stick and reached into her jacket pocket. “Have a chocolate bar.”
Hardison unwrapped the chocolate skeptically. “It’s like I’m trapped in some weird mountain version of Hansel and Gretel.”
“The weather is bad for us, but good for Aine,” Sophie said. “The heat makes climbing hard, but it’ll be safer for her as long as water levels don’t rise.”
Eliot pressed a finger to his lips, shushing the others. “Listen.”
Sophie stopped and tilted her head. “I hear a whistle.”
“Aine!” Babs called.
“Here, this way!” Eliot called, racing to the side far edge of the cliff, Sophie and the rest following close behind.
“Aine!” Sophie called, peering over the edge, where a girl sat along the river at the bottom, leaning against her backpack with the whistle to her mouth.
“Oh thank God,” the girl called up. “Mum! Dad!”
“Aine, are you okay?” Richard called down.
“I’m okay. All fingers and toes present and accounted for, but I hurt my leg,” Aine called. “I can’t get up.”
Eliot stood, dropping his pack from his shoulders, retrieving the first aide kit. “Aine, my name’s Eliot, I’m coming down to get you.”
“Be careful,” Babs called after Eliot as he worked his way down the rocks.
Aine waved up. “Hi Sophie! Fancy meeting you here.”
“I couldn’t very well let my favorite girl have adventures all by herself.” Sophie laughed as Eliot reached the bottom of the gully.
“She’s alright,” Eliot called up. “Some cuts and bruises, a little dehydrated. The ankle’s swollen, but not broken.”
Nate stayed close to Sophie’s arm, looking on as Eliot patched Aine up, and hoisted her over his back to carry her back up.
“Oh, be careful!” Babs called.
When they reached the top of the ledge, Nate and Richard pulled Aine to safety and Eliot hoisted himself up.
The reunion was touching to observe, as the Daly’s sequestered themselves against one of the boulders, hugging and crying in relief.
“Not a bad day’s work,” Nate said, panting slightly and nudging Sophie gently.
Sophie nodded, looking on as Eliot approached the family reunion cautiously, holding a bottle of water and offering to wrap Aine’s ankle.
“That,” Sophie pointed, as Aine set her hand obligingly on the top of Eliot’s head as he leaned down to examine her foot. “Makes me very nervous.”
Nate shrugged.
“She makes him feel,” he reached out and brushed her elbow with his fingertips. “Justified.”
Next Chapter
Author: downbythebay_4
Rated: M
Summary: Nate/Sophie. Every saint has a past, every sinner has a future.
My submission for the Leverage Reverse Big Bang, art by crescent_gaia. Many thanks to alinaandalion for beta-reading; all remaining mistakes are, of course, mine.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Four
“We trust Nate to make sure the plan works. We trust you to make sure we're all okay.”
--Alec Hardison, The Two Live Crew Job
A drive that should have lasted just over three hours only lasted two and a half as the van Hardison had begun to refer to as Big Ben, to Nate’s chagrin, pulled into a parking space in what they presumed to be the foothills of an expansive, green mountain range, speckled with the greys and white of rocks and sheep. It was almost five o’clock in the afternoon and Aine had been missing for almost twenty-four hours.
“Here’s some quid,” Babs offered, digging through a change purse and setting a few large coins in Sophie’s open palm. “You go on ahead to feed the meter, I’ll see if I can get ahold of Richard.”
The rest of the team trailed behind Sophie, forming a tight circle alongside the pay-station.
“Where its Scafell?” Eliot asked, looking up.
“You can’t see the summit from here,” Sophie said, pointing out across the horizon. “It’s behind Helvellyn.”
“How far to the summit,” Parker asked, hoisting her pack onto her shoulders expectantly.
“The first time we climbed it, it took us four hours,” Sophie said. “Aine was nine and Naomi was seven.”
“We’ll push; we’ll make it in two,” Nate declared.
“Not like this, we won’t,” Eliot said. “Parker’s got her stuff, but I’m in jeans; Hardison’s wearing fucking Chucks. We need water, probably food, and headlamps if we’re not going to make it off the mountain before sunset.”
“There are sports stores in all these little towns, for hikers,” Sophie said. “We’ll split up and get what we need.”
“I think y’all are forgetting that you pulled me out of bed in the middle of the night last night,” Hardison protested. “I think I have one international credit card on me with a five-hundred dollar limit.”
Nate pinched the bridge of his nose contemplatively. “That won’t get us very far.”
“What about these,” Parker produced a handful of credit cards seemingly from out of nowhere.
Hardison blinked, Sophie frowned, and Eliot rolled his eyes.
“Are those from the co-eds?” Nate asked.
“Hello? Thief,” Parker fanned out the cards demonstratively. “Besides, they’re going to jail; what do they need money for?”
Hardison touched his chin. “The police should have picked them up about an hour and a half ago. How long do you think we have before they flag the cards?”
“It’s hard to say,” Sophie replied. “Maybe an hour.”
“We’ll give it half an hour,” Babs announced, appearing all at once next to Sophie, making Hardison jump involuntarily.
Parker eyed the woman critically. “How do you keep doing that?”
“We’ll each take a card,” Babs explained. “I already have my hiking gear in the van, so I’ll swing by the grocer’s. Everyone will need lightweight clothes, boots, wool socks, backpacks, and a raincoat, just in case. It’s been dry, but that’s no reason to chance it.”
“Babs,” Sophie said. “You’ve never broken a law in your life, now you’re ready to make the leap to credit fraud?”
Babs took one of the cards from Parker and slid it into the pocket in the front of her jacket. “They left my little girl on a mountain,” she said. “The way I see it, it’s not fraud; it’s just justice.”
Sophie laughed as Parker offered her a card. “Okay. You heard the boss, get what you need, and anything else that might seem useful.”
“We split up. They probably don’t get too many Americans out here; let’s try not to draw too much attention to ourselves,” Eliot added, selecting a card and glaring at Hardison in particular. “And anything you buy, you have to carry.”
With nods of agreement they separated, approaching the town from six different directions.
Sophie dipped into the first sporting goods store she approached, and spent a moment browsing over a spinning display of sunglasses near the register and offered the cashier a smile before moving to a display of boots against the far wall.
She lifted a pair of ankle high boots with light blue trim, checking the tag to ensure they were waterproof.
“You never could resist a new pair of shoes.” Sophie jumped involuntarily as Nate appeared at her shoulder.
“I thought we agreed we’d split up,” Sophie sat down and slipped off her flats.
“Because Americans attract people’s attention,” Nate paced along the wall studying the various brands of footwear. “But you’re not American.”
Sophie shook her head. “I see.”
Nate pulled a box off the shelf and took a seat on the bench beside her. “If we’re going to do this, I need to know your head is in the right place. It’s not going to be a cake walk, for any of us, you know, but if there’s something more going on here-”
“I want to help them,” Sophie said. “It’s what we do, isn’t it?”
“Since when does ‘what we do’ include letting Eliot leave a college kid most likely with permanent brain damage,” Nate said.
Sophie scoffed. “No one lets Eliot do anything. I’m not his mother; he doesn’t have to ask my permission to do his job.”
Sophie pulled of the boots and arranged them back in the box. She collected her things and rose to her feet.
“You’re not his mother,” Nate stood, following her. “You’re his friend and he trusts you to be there when things get out of control.”
Sophie set the box on the counter and waved to the cashier. “Hold these for me,” without breaking stride she began riffling through a rack of tops made from moisture-wicking fabric.
“You wanted to see them hurt,” Nate said lowly.
“So what if I did?” she hissed, holding up a pink v-neck tee shirt and observing her reflection in the mirror. “You can’t say they didn’t deserve it.”
Nate leaned in across the clothes rack. “That’s not what we do.”
“That is exactly what we do,” Sophie said. “Every time you whip yourself into a righteous fury we finish a job with nothing but smoldering ash in our wake.”
“Then maybe we should do things differently,” Nate said.
“We’re thieves, Nate,” Sophie said retreating to the dressing room. “Like it or not, we are what we are.”
Nate took her by the wrist as she slid the curtain closed, his fingers caressing her palm between her thumb and index finger.
“Why does this mean so much to you?” he asked. “I’m just trying to understand.”
“I don’t know,” Sophie said. “I don’t know why I’m still so protective of her. All my life I could be anything to anybody; maybe I just wanted someone to be mine.”
Nate’s expression mollified. “I know you’re hurting,” he met her eyes intently. “What happened here?”
Sophie wrenched her arm away. “I don’t need pity,” she hissed. “I don’t want it. I don’t ask for it.”
Nate stepped into her, into the dressing room, and drew the curtain behind him. The closeness of their bodies left her wanting to kiss him or slap him, in almost equal proportion.
“There are two kinds of pity,” he said. “One says, ‘I see your pain and I feel sorry for you.’ The other says, ‘I recognize your pain, and I understand, because we are the same.’”
“…I would have told him the truth. I just hadn’t gotten up the courage yet.”
--Lacy Beaumont-Wellesley, The Lonely Hearts Job
~~~
Sophie laid in bed, watching the sun creep across the floor through the blinds of the Daly’s cottage. Her makeup was smudged and her hair unwashed. There was a knock on the door and Sophie burrowed deeper under the covers as Babs poked her head through the door.
“Sophie,” she called in a high-pitched warble. “Perhaps you’d better get out of bed and freshen up. You may have company today.”
Sophie sat upright in bed.
“Babs, you didn’t!”
“It’s alright,” Babs came in and sat down on the end of the bed. “Richard just had a talk with your young man, to invite him out to the cottage.”
Sophie moaned, burying her face in the pillow and falling back onto the bed.
“I can’t face him,” Sophie said. “I can’t.”
Babs rubbed circles on Sophie’s shoulder. “Whatever happened, he’s coming out here for you. You need to talk to him. He deserves that much.”
“Babs, I’m sorry,” Sophie kicked her feet under the sheets wildly. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to bring you into this. I just didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“It’s alright,” Babs said. “It’s alright. We’ll get through this.”
Babs stood up and kissed the top of Sophie’s head. “I’ll warm you up a nice bath,” she said. “With bubbles.”
Sophie through off the covers and set her feet on the floor. As she leveraged herself up, a sudden wave of dizziness forced her to sink back down onto the mattress. She groaned and pressed one arm over her belly, leaning forward to put her head between her knees.
“What am I going to do with you?”
After Sophie had showered, fixed her makeup, and made herself presentable, Babs encouraged her to take a stroll through the garden for some fresh air. She was examining a trellis covered in ivy when the car pulled down the woodchip path. Will stepped down from the driver’s side and came around to the front.
Sophie found herself longing to be able to sink back into the ivy.
“Charlotte,” he called, and stopped mid-stride. “Sophie. Sorry. It’s not bad, it’s not good, it’s just new.”
“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” Sophie said.
“For what?” Will laughed. “You lied. The name, the boarding school, the vineyard in the south of France. You made it all up. So what? What makes you think that any of that is the reason I love you.”
Sophie nibbled on one fingernail. “I didn’t, strictly speaking, make up the vineyard.”
“Let’s just start over,” he said. “We can go back to the way things were.”
“We can’t go back,” Sophie said.
“Says who?” Will replied. “No one can tell us what to do. We’ve already broken every rule in the book!”
“I’m pregnant,” Sophie shouted.
Will stood silently. For a long, treacherous moment she thought he would turn and run away, like they were balanced precipitously on some sort of Ferris wheel and one stray breath could send them spinning toward the bottom.
“Please say something,” Sophie said.
Will took her face between his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. When she began to cry, he kissed her.
“So this is a boulder field,” Parker said, leaping effortlessly from one rock from the next. “Why hasn’t someone installed one of these at the Louvre?”
“Take your time!” Richard Daly called after her. Every bit as small, white-haired, and inexplicably energetic as his wife. “We don’t need any sprained ankles.”
Sophie waved him off genially. “She’ll be fine.”
Further back, Hardison panted. “I think I’m dying.”
“Nonsense,” Babs prodded him in the behind with her walking stick and reached into her jacket pocket. “Have a chocolate bar.”
Hardison unwrapped the chocolate skeptically. “It’s like I’m trapped in some weird mountain version of Hansel and Gretel.”
“The weather is bad for us, but good for Aine,” Sophie said. “The heat makes climbing hard, but it’ll be safer for her as long as water levels don’t rise.”
Eliot pressed a finger to his lips, shushing the others. “Listen.”
Sophie stopped and tilted her head. “I hear a whistle.”
“Aine!” Babs called.
“Here, this way!” Eliot called, racing to the side far edge of the cliff, Sophie and the rest following close behind.
“Aine!” Sophie called, peering over the edge, where a girl sat along the river at the bottom, leaning against her backpack with the whistle to her mouth.
“Oh thank God,” the girl called up. “Mum! Dad!”
“Aine, are you okay?” Richard called down.
“I’m okay. All fingers and toes present and accounted for, but I hurt my leg,” Aine called. “I can’t get up.”
Eliot stood, dropping his pack from his shoulders, retrieving the first aide kit. “Aine, my name’s Eliot, I’m coming down to get you.”
“Be careful,” Babs called after Eliot as he worked his way down the rocks.
Aine waved up. “Hi Sophie! Fancy meeting you here.”
“I couldn’t very well let my favorite girl have adventures all by herself.” Sophie laughed as Eliot reached the bottom of the gully.
“She’s alright,” Eliot called up. “Some cuts and bruises, a little dehydrated. The ankle’s swollen, but not broken.”
Nate stayed close to Sophie’s arm, looking on as Eliot patched Aine up, and hoisted her over his back to carry her back up.
“Oh, be careful!” Babs called.
When they reached the top of the ledge, Nate and Richard pulled Aine to safety and Eliot hoisted himself up.
The reunion was touching to observe, as the Daly’s sequestered themselves against one of the boulders, hugging and crying in relief.
“Not a bad day’s work,” Nate said, panting slightly and nudging Sophie gently.
Sophie nodded, looking on as Eliot approached the family reunion cautiously, holding a bottle of water and offering to wrap Aine’s ankle.
“That,” Sophie pointed, as Aine set her hand obligingly on the top of Eliot’s head as he leaned down to examine her foot. “Makes me very nervous.”
Nate shrugged.
“She makes him feel,” he reached out and brushed her elbow with his fingertips. “Justified.”
Next Chapter