Leverage Fan Fic
Title: Interlude
Author: whimoffate
Characters: Sophie/(Nate), Eliot
Word Count: 729
Rating: PG (some language)
Beta: fleurlb You're my editing Goddess. I would be lost without you.
Spoilers: The whole series, but it will stop being canon after the premiere, I'm sure... I do use the previews for this fic. So, it's kind of Season three....if you squint.
Warning(s): None.
Disclaimer: I am just a rank amateur trying to pass the time
Summary: Sometimes it takes a Hitter to be a friend to a Grifter....
Sophie slammed the door to Nate's apartment, angrily kicking off her heels as she stormed to the seating area. She threw her purse over her shoulder. It got good air, then fell with a thud. Growling with frustration, the normally composed grifter practically vaulted her body onto the sofa. She landed full-length across the cushions, face-down.
“It wasn't that bad,” Eliot's voice coming from the kitchen caught the older woman off-guard. She sat up, turning her body to face him. She hadn't expected anyone to be at Nate's place when she got back from visiting him in jail. Sophie had sort of commandeered Nate's apartment since his arrest, and the rest of the team knew it.
Pulling herself together with enviable speed, she got up from the couch and headed in Eliot's direction, snarking as she went, “He's impossible. This whole situation is impossible.”
Eliot didn't say anything, but he turned and poured a glass of wine from a bottle he'd already popped the cork on and had let breathe while he was waiting for her to get back. He handed her the glass, which she took gratefully as she perched on a stool at the prepping station in the kitchen. “Thank you.”
“What's got you riled up?” Eliot uncapped a beer from the fridge and sat down across from her.
“Nothing. Everything. I just didn't expect him to still be able to get under my skin this way.” Sophie stared moodily in to the wine glass. “I'd really hoped that I have moved past this petty need to one-up him.”
It had been months since Nate had given himself up on the deck of The Maltese Falcon and while the team had managed to find a rhythm that worked for them, Sophie still held out hope that Nate would abandon his foolish need to punish himself for screwing up and allow them to get him out. Every weekend she would drive to the prison, give the guards her fake identification, risk getting nabbed herself, just to have pointless conversations with Nate Ford.
“Come on. You're trying to get under his skin just as bad. The two of you live for that stuff. The cat and mouse, the banter, the teasing, it's all part and parcel of what makes you 'Nate and Sophie.'”
“I'm not trying to get under his skin.” Sophie's eyes widened in a perfect simulation of indignant surprise. Eliot pointedly looked up and down her body, his intelligent blue eyes taking in the sexy black top and the leather pants. Once he reached her face again, he arched an eyebrow in her direction and said nothing.
Admitting defeat, Sophie said, “Fine. Maybe I wanted him to suffer a little. If he wants to punish himself, fine, but do it somewhere else. Somewhere where I'm not getting punished, too, because he's gone.”
“You tell him that?”
“Of course not. I got upset and told him that he couldn't call me 'Sophie' anymore because I go by my real name. And then I refused to tell him what it was.” Sophie's face scrunched up in annoyance. “I can't believe I did that. Now I have to live with it.”
“You can just tell him next week and be done with it.”
“That's not how this thing between me and Nate works, Eliot, and you know that. Now it is part of the chase. The game. He's got a goal and if I give in now, it will just push us back to square one.” Eliot rolled his eyes. “Nate's going to have to figure it out on his own and, well, I'll admit, I like this. I like knowing that I have leverage of my own over the arrogant sonofabitch. So there.”
“Does that mean that we get to know what your real name is?” Eliot's eyes lit up. There was a part of him that wanted to have something to hold over Nate's head, too. The idea that he would know something about Sophie that Nate didn't know, well, it was far too tempting to pass up.
“Hmmm...I guess so. But, not tonight. Tomorrow at the meeting. I'll tell Parker and Hardison, too. It'll make it more fun.”
Smiling brightly Sophie finished the wine in her glass and hopped down from the stool. She placed a fleeting hand over Eliot's, then said, “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”