Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage nor am I associated with Dean Devlin, Timothy Hutton or Gina Bellman.

Steppin' Out

Rarely did they dance. In fact, he could name the three times off the top of his head.

Paris, 2001. Just days before he caught her with the proverbial feather in her mouth, they had run into each other on a street corner. She had dodged him, he had dodged her and somehow they ended up still blocking each other's path. Nervous laughter accompanied the awkward moment, each having been avoiding the other all across Europe and yet they couldn't seem to sidestep here. Sophie had raised an eyebrow, reaching for his hand and stepping forward so she could settle the other on his shoulder.

"If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was ask," she'd whispered against his ear as he almost unconsciously spread a hand across her waist. Spinning them around, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and traipsed across the street, her fingers lingering on his as far as she could reach.

Vienna, 2006. It had begun as a joke, her dragging him out onto the patio because how they could both show up at the same Austrian benefit without dancing a Viennese waltz? It was silly, really, but the steps came back to him easily with her in his arms and suddenly it wasn't a joke anymore. She was so beautiful and the look in her eyes made him want to do nothing but kiss her, but her date appeared in the doorway and she was leaving and then she was gone and the steps disappeared again into dusty memories.

Portland, 2009. It wasn't so romantic as a Parisian street corner or a Viennese ball but the third time he twirled her in his arms was his favorite. They were moving boxes into her new house, grabbing a few hours of early morning for themselves before it was all work at the office. As he dropped one in the living room, the cardboard lid popped open, exposing the stacks of photographs, books and knickknacks. A tattered copy of The Grand Sophy caught his eye, the title drawing a smile to his face. Nate pulled the book from the box, thumbing through it absentmindedly.

Sophie appeared at his elbow, snatching the book from his hands. "Stop laughing."

"You have a book named after yourself and you think I'm not going to laugh? And a romance novel, no less." Nate grabbed her free hand, pulling her to him.

She made a face, tossing the book back in the box. "Na-ate… We have a ton of boxes to unload still and I'm sure Eliot wants his truck back," she protested without making the slightest effort to stop the easy slide of his arms around her.

"Just dance with me."

"There isn't any music."

"We didn't need music the first time." Sophie rested her head against his shoulder, having no answer to that but compliance. And so they danced without music in her empty living room full of boxes.

Rarely did they dance. But Nate made a silent promise to change that.