Disclaimer: not mine.
Notes: Set during The Second David Job.
Silver and Gold
I think I may be the only one on the planet who wonders about what kind of relationship Sterling and Maggie have. I don't think the show tries to imply anything, and I certainly don't think Sterling is harbouring unrequited passion for her. In fact, from what I actually see on screen, this is just a little out of character for him. On the other hand, like Sterling and Nate, they've known each other for a long time. They've probably got a decent colleague-type relationship.
And then, Sterling is a complex man, and Maggie certainly has an effect on people. So I'm just playing around with what that relationship might be. Might become a loose series of vignettes ... if I end up writing more, that is.
Watching her, he remembered the first time she became Maggie. Not a brilliant, rigidly honest art expert, with that striking golden grace which he'd always known better than be distracted by. Not a consultant for IYS, not Nate Ford's wife, but Maggie.
It had been a small moment, in cosmic terms, but he'd felt it. She hadn't, he knew, and he felt the imbalance of that, too. Didn't like it. But couldn't help it. She'd been consulting on one of his cases, and it had been pleasant and professional, nothing out of place. Then she'd received a phone call – this was when their boy was just getting sick – and for just a second, while she listened to whoever was on the other end, she'd turned a helpless, stricken look on him.
That was all. She didn't say anything; their meeting was concluded properly and even productively. As far as he could tell, she didn't remember she'd looked at him at all. But for that instant, he'd seen Maggie. Just Maggie. Not the beautiful, poised, intelligent careerperson. Simply a woman. Alone, strong, and in pain.
And he couldn't forget.
He tried not to think about it. There was no point in thinking about it. She wasn't someone he should be thinking about; these days, she was Ms Collins, successful and highly sought after in her field. That was all he needed to see. All he should let himself see.
And yet, every now and then, he'd find himself watching her. Like this. Leaning on the railing of the mezzanine, absorbed by the woman, luminous below the gallery's excellent skylights. He could still see her; see below her cool demeanor and crisply given directions; below her subversive intent as she played out her part in Nate's plan to steal the two Davids. Just watching her, when his mind should be on other things; on the job, on tracking and thwarting Nate and his team – and her.
She caught sight of him watching her, and he waved ironically. The expression on her face as she turned away – he didn't know what Nate had told her to get her in on this, but anything even resembling the truth would be more than enough. He didn't blame her. If it were only Ian Blackpoole they were going after, he'd be inclined to stand aside and let them have at it, but it wasn't; it was the company, and his own project, his promotion, his reputation, his job.
It was a shame she'd been pulled into this. He would have preferred she be spared more heartache, but she was a grown woman capable of making her own choices, and taking the consequences. He'd do what he could to protect her from the severity of them, unlike the rest of that misbegotten collection of criminals, of course. Keep her from jail time, at least. But if it came down to it, he wasn't going to let any woman – even one as magnificent as Maggie – get in his way.