Maggie sighed as she stepped back into the house. She wiped at her eyes to chase away any remaining tears, and as she was nervously smoothing out any wrinkles in her clothes and trying to keep from crying again, she caught sight of Sophie disappearing around the corner and decided to follow after her.

She found Sophie in the kitchen with Parker and Eliot. Parker was crouched on the counter, a lock in her hand; when she looked up and saw Maggie, she jumped to the ground and slipped past Maggie on her way out the door, pausing to pet her hair. Eliot glared at Sophie then smiled at Maggie. The contrast in expression was almost humorous, but Sophie looked a little hurt by the snub.

"Just make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," Eliot grumbled to Sophie. "Think you can manage that?"

Sophie flinched but nodded her head. "Yes."

Eliot stood there a minute longer, waiting on something; he finally stomped his way to the door, and Maggie jumped out of his path. She looked at Sophie who pulled a flask out of her back pocket. Maggie raised her eyebrows.

"It's Nate's," Sophie said with an elegant shrug of her shoulders. "I thought that it might be best to take it away from him since…"

"So you knew." Maggie tried to keep the anger out of her voice, but was unsuccessful if Sophie's pained look was any indication.

"Not until I backed him into a corner and pretty much forced the truth out of him." Sophie opened the flask and took a long swallow. "He was wrong to keep that from you."

"I don't know…if knowing would have changed anything." She sighed.

Sophie offered her the flask, and she took it gratefully, chancing a small sip. Whiskey. Of course. She drank a little more and winced at the burn.

"He wouldn't be as broken."

'Maybe not." Maggie took another swallow and handed the flask back to Sophie. "This year must have been rough for you."

"Not for awhile." Sophie gave her a bitter smile and drank deeply. "It was even fun."

"What changed?"

"I realized he wasn't the man I knew two years ago. That he would never be that man again."

Maggie tilted her head to the side and pulled the flask from Sophie's fingers; she was going to need some liquid fortitude for her next question.

"How long have you been in love with him?"

Sophie started and shifted away from her, but Maggie didn't have the ability or desire to retract her words. Sophie's face softened, and Maggie allowed herself the luxury of studying Sophie's features. She was a beautiful woman, everything about her asking to be admired and touched; Maggie felt a twinge of jealousy at the way she had noticed Nate looking at Sophie.

"For much longer than I should have," Sophie finally answered. "Probably around seven years."

Maggie closed her eyes and took in that knowledge; she had known about Sophie and the run-ins Nate had in the past with her. This just wasn't quite what she had imagined when she had thought about the elusive thief and wondered what about her made Nate so on edge.

"He never…"

"Of course not," Maggie interrupted with a sharp look.

Sophie blinked, subdued by Maggie's confident assurance, but Maggie knew Nate in a way that few had or ever would. The man was so bound up in Catholic guilt that he obviously hadn't made a move on Sophie, not then and not even now when it was perfectly fine for him to do so.

"He cares for you," Maggie said with a fond smile. "It's not hard to see."

"I doubt he does now." Sophie closed her dark eyes and let out a long breath. "I fucked things up, and I don't think he'll ever forgive me."

"He's here. I'm pretty sure that's as close to forgiveness as he's ever going to get."

Maggie tilted the flask up to her lips; she paused, thinking about the ease of the motion and how much better it felt to take the edge off with a burn she could control. She dropped it and watched as the whiskey left in it sloshed out onto the floor.

"Probably a better place for it anyway," Sophie murmured.

Sophie grabbed a towel and bent to the floor to mop up the mess. Maggie looked around for another rag so she could help, but she couldn't find any. She resigned herself to watching Sophie sop the whiskey from the white tiles. Nate would be upset at the waste of good alcohol.