Xanadu
Disclaimer: I do not know Leverage, please don't sue, I just got done with my college orientation and realizing I am going to have NO money for a LONG time.
Pairing: Nate/ Sophie
Summary: Written for the Nate/ Sophie Ficathon on Livejournal. The Zinnias had no ulterior motives, her Azaleas had no secrets, the Lilacs loved a little compassion and caring. Why couldn't he be more like her garden?
Sophie felt her tensions dissipate as the cool, damp sent of freshly turned soil filled her nostrils and the space under her fingernails. There was something very liberating about working a garden by hand. The quiet discipline and beauty of nature, the only justification needed for dirt worship. On her knees she paid homage to Mother Nature and Mother Nature paid her back in spades.
The little plot of ground far removed from the city and everything people assumed she held dear, this patch of black dirt was her own private Xanadu.
She packed dirt around a transplant rosebush and never felt more powerful. Some thought it was the four inch heels and red lipstick that gave her that invincible feeling. Granted they felt good but they were nothing compared to watching a garden grow. It was one part control, one part maternal instinct. Both made her feel worth more than anything she ever stole.
"Sophie?" and both seemed to leave her at the sound of his voice. She looked up and found him leaning against the doorframe of her garden. Her Xanadu. The last place to be infiltrated by his pervasive presence.
That last part was a lie; he was with her here most of all. Especially of late. With this garden she knew exactly where she stood, the Zinnias had no ulterior motives, her Azaleas had no secrets, the Lilacs loved a little compassion and caring. They did what they were supposed to – which was exactly what she wanted. They didn't push her away when she tried to help them. Why couldn't he be more like her garden?
"Nate." She said standing, he began walking the path winding from the house to her, eyes sweeping over everything – her, the flowers, her.
"You've been gone for nearly a year, how does this place look so good?" she smiled at the memory of what it looked like at the beginning of her six month vacation.
"It didn't look like this in the beginning." She said simply.
"I bet it was hard to come back and see all your hard work gone to seed." He smiled handsomely at his horrible pun.
"A little," she admitted, "but it was also kind of nice to know that something would fall apart without me." She instantly regretted her words, the look in his blue eyes told her – too truthful.
"More than a garden needs you, Sophie." He said softly, she looked away.
"Why are you here Nate?" she asked stiffly.
"You have uh… dirt on your cheek." He said, she wiped her cheek – Great, not only did I actually share some of my feelings I'm dirty, Grace Kelly never had this problem. He chuckled and she looked at him, the pleasure garden was slowly turning into the Garden of perpetual hell.
"You made it worse." He said, she looked at her hands – they were black. She'd forgone gloves to allow the organic joy into her pores.
"Let me." He said taking her chin in one hand and gently brushing the dirt away.