Title: Misperceptions
Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage or its characters and I make no profit from this. It's all for fun.
Spoilers: None unless you have absolutely no idea who the characters are or what they do. In fact, I don't refer to any episodes in this story.
Pairing: Nate/Parker
Summary: Everyone knows Nate and Parker are together. There's only one problem: they aren't. And they never have been.
Author's note: After my last story which implied that perhaps Sophie and Eliot were secretly dating, I started thinking, what if Nate and Parker were secretly dating? And then, even better, what if people only thought they were, but they weren't? And that's where this story came from.
For the story's sake, Nate's apartment is also their team headquarters (I'm not sure if that's the way things are or not in season 2, I'm still a bit behind on DVR'd episodes, but that's the impression I get).
I started writing about these two solely for myself…but thanks to posting my stories here, I've realized there are other N/P fans out there. Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed my stories, now I don't write only for myself, I also write for you. I hope you enjoy.
Misperceptions
Eliot saw it first, when he was leaving the kitchen one day. "Hardison," he hissed, shutting the other man up mid-sentence. "Get over here."
"What is it?" Hardison whispered, inching over like an attacker could spring at them any moment. "I'm not trained in martial arts or jujitsu or any of those other –"
"Look over there," Eliot cut him off, gesturing vaguely toward the couches. "What do you see?" Since Nate's kitchen and living room were separated only by the breakfast bar, it couldn't really be called spying. They were all practically in the same room.
"Uh…the living room?"
Eliot sighed. "Who do you see?"
Hardison gave Eliot an odd look. "Are you alright?" When Eliot snapped his head back to face him, Hardison quickly caved. "Okay, I see Nate."
Eliot waited but nothing further came. Honestly, it was like pulling teeth. "And?"
"Parker?"
"Are you guessing?"
"Come on, Eliot, you know it's them. What's going on?"
Of course, he would have to explain everything. "Do you see how close they're sitting?"
"Is there supposed to be some set amount of space between them?" Hardison was genuinely confused, and honestly he only wanted to get back to the nachos he'd been pulled away from.
"It saddens me how unperceptive you are." Eliot left, shaking his head, and Hardison wondered what the hell that whole exchange was about. He glanced at Nate and Parker again. They were watching something on TV, but also talking and laughing about it on the couch. It was nice they got along so well nowadays – better than listening to them fight non-stop, at least. He went back to his snack.
XXXXX
Hardison figured it out – or maybe let himself believe it – much later than Eliot. He was sitting on one of the bar stools when Parker stumbled in, bleary-eyed and with a look on her face that clearly said if anyone stood between her and coffee, they would die.
"Maybe you should try getting a few more hours of sleep at night, Parker, you look terrible."
He barely ducked the mug thrown at his head. No matter how many times she tried to physically attack him, he still liked to goad her in the mornings. It was when she was slowest and least able to get a direct hit.
It was 7:45 AM and Nate had called them in for an early meeting because they had a flight only a few hours later. Everyone knew that if Parker were forced to get up before her usual time, she still wouldn't willingly talk to anyone before 9 AM.
So it especially caught Hardison's attention when Nate strolled in and Parker not only spoke to him, saying good morning, but she managed a sort of smile while she did it.
Hardison would have shaken it off as a onetime anomaly in the fabric of space and time, except he watched in astonishment as Parker proceeded to simultaneously make two cups of coffee, one for Nate and one for herself. She measured out sugar and milk like it was something she did every morning, and the scene was strangely domestic. He felt like he was observing something that happened a thousand times before, and he wondered if it had.
"You never make coffee," he accused, as Parker handed one cup to Nate and then sipped gratefully from the other.
"That's because she likes me, Hardison," Nate smirked. "By the way, you're going to owe me a new set of mugs." It especially galled Hardison that this statement was directed at him and not Parker.
"She's the one who threw it!"
Nate looked at Parker who shrugged innocently. "I'm guessing you goaded her into it."
Hardison couldn't take the injustice. "I could have been seriously injured. Is it my fault she's out of her mind?!"
Normally she would have taken such a comment in stride, but it was so early and she did feel awful after only 4 hours sleep. She picked up another empty mug and swore silently that this time she would not miss. Hardison's eyes widened and he was about to throw himself to the floor when Nate stepped between her and their risk-taking computer expert.
"Please, I like that one," he held out his hand. She smiled sweetly and gave it to him before turning to Hardison.
"Next time," she warned Hardison, again breaking her no-talking rule, which apparently was acceptable when she was threatening someone with physical harm. "When Nate's not here to protect you...or his dishes."
"She just – you heard that, man, she threatened me," Hardison complained. "How come she does anything you say but God forbid someone else tries to tell her something…"
Parker's next look toward him was somewhere along the lines of: Shut up if you know what's good for you.
"I told you, she likes me." Nate patted him sympathetically on the shoulder before pulling Parker after him from the room.
What did Nate mean by that? It took all of Hardison 30 seconds to decide that Eliot was right after all. It was bizarre, and unbelievable, and he didn't know what to make of it.
But as he sat in the kitchen and thought about it (okay, maybe partly an excuse since he really just wanted to give Parker some more time to forget about him), he decided it caused a lot more things to make sense. And the thought became, really, not so strange after all.
XXXXX
Sophie was a bit late to the game. It wasn't because she didn't believe her friends about Nate and Parker.
No, it was that she didn't want to.
So she wrote off Hardison and Eliot's assertions as crazy ramblings of two men who were trying to stir up trouble where none existed.
That was, until after a particularly bad job involving a couple who had lost a child due to side effects from a new medication – side effects which were glossed over and written off in trials, all in the name of making money.
They'd gotten the company to pull the drug and give a settlement to the family, but nothing could get the grieving couple the one thing they could never have – their child back.
There were just some cases that were harder than others, and this was one of the worst. Nate, of course, took it the hardest, because Sophie knew every time he thought of 5-year-old Kyle Waite he wasn't picturing that boy's face. In his mind, he only saw his son.
As such, their celebration was more muted than usual. It felt like a win, but still a loss, because the win came 2 years too late to save Kyle's life.
Hardison announced with determination that the occasion called for a nice dinner, so he was cooking, of all things, some kind of vegetable stir fry. Eliot had been roped into helping him, so while the two argued in the kitchen over how much cooking oil was needed, Sophie watched Nate.
Outwardly he seemed fine, but she knew him well enough that she sensed something was off. When he walked over and pulled a bottle of brandy out of one of the kitchen cabinets, she felt lost in a way she never had before.
She recognized the bottle as a gift they'd gotten a few months before from a thankful client. She thought he'd gotten rid of it, and by the way both Hardison and Eliot become unnaturally still in the kitchen, she knew they'd thought the same.
"Hey, Nate, I know this was a tough one but –" Eliot began in the same moment that Hardison reached over to try and take it from Nate.
"Stop," he told them quietly while pulling away from Hardison's reach. His tone implied he was in no mood to argue and that if they tried, he would avoid it by leaving.
"Do you really think that's a good idea? I mean, all this time you haven't been drinking and you're going to end that now?" Hardison tried to reason, when a thought hit him. "Wait, you haven't been drinking all along have you?"
Nate didn't bother to respond, except to get a glass. Eliot motioned for Sophie to do something, and what was she, a miracle worker?
Nevertheless, she moved to block his way when he rounded the breakfast bar to leave the kitchen, heading for the couch. "Nate, you know that none of us can stop you if you want to drink. All I ask is that you think about this before you do it."
He sighed wearily and shook his head. "Sophie, get out of my way. Please."
She stood her ground and he chose to walk around her instead. It was like watching a horror movie unfold before her eyes and Sophie could only think, what if he starts up again? What do we do? How do we get him to rethink this? Above all, how can we stop him? Because she knew as well as the rest of them that they could physically take the bottle from him, but they couldn't stop him from going out and drinking elsewhere.
"Hardison, your vegetables are burning," Nate said, without taking his eyes off the bottle and glass which he'd set in front of him on the coffee table. Swearing from the kitchen confirmed this and while Hardison tried to quickly avert an imminent fire, Sophie watched Nate pour the brandy into the glass.
She had to try something else, she couldn't sit and watch it happen. "Nate – " she began, but abruptly stopped when Parker walked in.
Sophie's urge to scream "where have you been?" told her more about the situation than anything else up to that point. Because since when had Parker started being any type of grounding force for their group, never mind for Nate?
"Why is everyone so dour? It's like a funeral in here," Parker tossed her coat over a chair, as Sophie winced at the poor choice of words. "And what's burning?"
That started up an argument between Eliot and Hardison about who was to blame for ruining the current batch of vegetables. Sophie wanted to tell Parker that, as usual, she was missing the most important thing in the room.
Except when she looked away from the men now resorting to physical violence in the kitchen, Parker was next to Nate, who sat in rigid silence, holding a glass of amber-colored liquid.
And Sophie realized it was her, not Parker, who had missed the most important thing in the room.
That she'd always been missing the most important thing in the room.
Sophie even wondered if Nate were actually waiting for Parker. Because when the other woman had walked in, it was almost like Nate had relaxed, like maybe being around Parker allowed him to let go of some of the anguish this last con had stirred in him.
Parker didn't say a single word. She and Nate simply looked at each other for several long moments, and for the life of her, Sophie couldn't figure out what they were saying with that silence.
Except it must have been something meaningful because the tension in the room dissolved in a single moment, when Nate set down the glass of his own accord and smiled at Parker.
That seemed to be all it took, because another moment after that and the two of them were talking about something animatedly on the couch and Sophie was left wondering what the hell just happened.
She glanced toward the kitchen, wondering if Hardison or Eliot had seen the exchange, and they had, because they were watching, too.
Then Eliot smirked triumphantly and mouthed the words "I told you so" in her direction. She narrowed her eyes in response but her heart wasn't in it. Because now she saw what they had been talking about, or perhaps more importantly, she accepted it.
In the end, it wasn't really the entire incident that proved to her Nate and Parker were together, because she almost thought he would have stopped himself from drinking anyway, whether Parker were there or not (though she couldn't be sure on that point, she at least hoped it was the case). At the very least, she knew that Parker understood it was something Nate had to do on his own, because if they simply took it from him then it wouldn't matter. She suspected, as well, that Parker might be giving Nate something to not drink for.
More than that though, was the fact that he was actually smiling. After the horrific circumstances of their last job, during which Sophie couldn't remember him smiling once, all it took was Parker sitting next to him to make him happy again.
And Sophie felt the twinge of jealousy, that she hadn't been enough for him when they'd tried, but she couldn't fault either of her friends. She wouldn't blame people for who they loved, especially when the two in question were both people she loved.
Besides, Parker apparently made Nate happy, so it was okay.
As she watched them surreptitiously (doing her best to ignore the clanging of pans and the search for a fire extinguisher going on in the kitchen), she realized it was more.
Nate was in love with Parker.
And strangely, to Sophie, that was okay, too.
XXXXX
It's not like it was some secret – in fact, Hardison, Sophie, and Eliot announced only a week later that they "know what's going on, so you two can drop the act."
Parker and Nate stared at their friends, confused, and then glanced at each other. "What act?" Nate said cautiously.
"Oh please, Nate, you're a horrible actor," Sophie told him.
"I really don't know what you're talking about," Parker wondered if they'd all gone crazy, because for her to notice such bizarre behavior, something was really wrong.
"Okay, okay," Hardison relented. He and Eliot exchanged a glance of 'what can we do?' "If that's the way you guys want to play it, then fine. But there's really no need."
Later, Parker and Nate tried to figure out what their other team members were going on about that afternoon. No matter which way they looked at it, they couldn't figure it out. So they shrugged it off and decided to ignore it as a bad attempt at a joke. Which, unknown to them, only confirmed the wrong ideas already firmly implanted in their friends' minds.
Like how they had to consult each other on everything. And how they pretty much did everything together. And how they even finished each other's sentences, a lot of the time.
Even their fights were predictable, with Nate showing distress at some dangerous thing Parker wanted to do, until she would wear him down, and he would finally relent, as long as he could be there with her to make sure she didn't seriously injure or kill herself.
After a time, Hardison and Eliot stopped noticing it and just accepted it as the way things were. Sophie still noticed, but only to appreciate how well they seemed to fit together - even if that appreciation was sometimes bittersweet.
And if Sophie, Hardison or Eliot knew the truth, they wouldn't believe it. Because they all knew that there was no way two people could be as close as Nate and Parker were, without being together.
Except they were that close. And they weren't together.
XXXXX
It wasn't until three months later that Parker had a realization. She was helping Nate redecorate, because he knew nothing about it. He kept complaining the apartment felt off somehow, and thought new furniture and drapes would fix it. She didn't think it would, but after Hardison almost convinced Nate to buy orange and yellow curtains ("They're cheery, Nate, they'll just bring in the sunshine!"), she had to step in.
She might know very little – alright, nothing – about decorating but she at least knew when colors looked good together.
They were bickering over fabric samples, olive versus hunter green, and she could no longer take his stubbornness.
"You know I have to live here, too," she said with finality, throwing the olive sample at him. He relented and said that he supposed he could live with it.
She smiled triumphantly and jotted it down in her notebook and then some things started to come together. She was so startled she sat down on their brand new damask couch and stared at Nate.
"Nate, we're a couple," she said, almost like a question, though it wasn't.
"A couple of what?" He flipped through a book of paint samples, and his tone implied he was waiting for her to say more because what she said wasn't worth commenting on.
"Nate," she grabbed the book from his hands and shook him by the shoulders to get his attention. "We're a couple!"
He was thoroughly confused and starting to get irritated. "What are you going on about? You sound like the others."
"I never saw it before," she was talking more to herself, "I thought they were trying to play a joke or something. But now I get it. How do you not get it?"
"Parker, I think I'd know if we were seeing each other."
She got up and started pacing. Everything fell into place. The strange comments from their friends. The behaviors and actions that must have looked so suspicious but which she and Nate never noticed, which she never noticed, until she looked back on it with a critical eye. And one thing that especially sent up a red flag. "Nate, we live together!"
He watched her with a confusion that she found oddly endearing. "Yeah, so?"
"Don't you think that's…odd?"
"Well you moved into the guest bedroom a few months ago while your apartment had maintenance work done on it."
"And I never left."
"Yeah, you're right," he frowned as if he had only just realized she was still living with him, four months later.
"You didn't think that was strange?"
"You're Parker! You do strange things all the time!" He defended himself. Really, no one could argue with a statement like that. Not even Parker.
"But still, we do everything together, we live together, hell, the bills come with both our names on them!"
"Because you never paid them when they came only to you," he reminded her. "I got sick of credit card companies calling here."
She waved him off, then thought about it. "That's another thing, you pay my bills!"
"To be fair, the money all comes from the same place, our clients. I assure you neither of us is in any danger of running out of money. What's the difference?"
"The difference is it's a couple thing to do Nate. And in case you haven't noticed, we're not a couple!" She was getting more worked up, and frustratingly, he didn't seem to get it. Or if he did, he didn't care. "This doesn't trouble you. At all."
He stood up, watching her carefully, as if she might fly off the handle at any time. "It's a friend thing to do," he stressed. "What are you getting so upset about?"
She wondered how she could get him to understand. "You would have no problem then, if it weren't me living here, but Sophie?"
A look of near horror flashed across his face. "No, that'd be weird."
She jumped on the sudden display of sanity. "Aha! See! It'd be strange to you if she lived here, and you guys did everything together, and everyone thought you two were dating."
"But that's because Sophie and I never made sense that way. You and me…we make sense."
She relaxed a bit at his words, because he was being awfully sweet, but she still couldn't allow things to keep going on in the way they had been. Sure it worked, but it wasn't practical, not in the long run, and mostly because…
"Nate, someday I want to be in a relationship. I want to get married, maybe have children. Being a man, you don't have the same limitations as I do. I'm in my thirties; I can't waste them all here with you."
His eyes darkened and his voice was only ice. "If that's how you feel then maybe you should move out."
She sighed, because she'd hurt him without even thinking. And that made something ache in her, too. "I love spending time with you. You've somehow become one of my best friends," she swore to him, and he looked a bit less angry. "But do you understand what I'm saying? I don't want to wake up one day and be 40 and realize every chance to find someone was spent in this apartment, with you, picking out paint samples and watching old movies and just…" being. Happy. Because he did make her happy. But it wasn't enough, she firmly told herself, even as a small part of her whispered that, no, it was enough.
"I guess you should find your own place then," he said, somewhat stiffly, falling back onto the couch, not looking at her. "I mean, if you want your own space and personal life, and all that."
"Yeah, I guess so."
She sat next to him and stared down at the decorating books. Funny how the evening had started so comfortably, and so typical, and now it was hollow, and cold. She never thought of their – Nate's apartment as cold before.
Perhaps she should tell him to get those orange and yellow drapes after all. Bring in some sun.
He nudged her in the side and said, "I guess we're breaking up, huh?"
She glanced over to where he was smiling, half apologetic, half teasing, and some of the warmth returned to the room. She thought things would be okay.
"Yeah, I mean, if you can break up without being together in the first place."
"If there is such a thing, then bring it upon us to actually do it," He said. She sighed and leaned against his side like she'd done hundreds of times before. She expected it to feel awkward after their conversation, but instead it only felt the way it always did.
Right.
And it confused her even more.
XXXXX
She couldn't bring Nate apartment hunting with her. They needed separation, she informed him bluntly. He had acquiesced easily and wished her luck, and a few suggestions as she went out the door, with Eliot (reluctantly) in tow.
They were onto the 7th apartment in 2 hours and she expected the next one to feel perfect, if only for the fact that the only thing on her mind right then was curling up in her bed and going to sleep. She thought she'd probably want to collapse on the hardwood floor of the next one, and end up taking it on the spot.
Neither of those things happened. The apartment was as wrong as the rest. She told the realtor as much, and Sheila sympathetically said that she understood how hard it could be, committing to live in a place, and they'd find something the next time.
The realtor left the room to take a call, and Eliot, who had said maybe 10 words total in the past 2 hours, stared out the living room window at a spectacular view of a local park, and the sweeping skyline that rose behind it. "You're crazy."
"I know," she dropped her purse on the counter. "It's perfect. I should take it."
"I don't mean the apartment," he told her. "They've all been more or less the same."
"Then what?" She joined him at the window, watching the people and cars down below.
"You already have a good place to live. You shouldn't be moving out." The set of his shoulders was stiff and she realized that, for some reason, telling her this was uncomfortable for him. Like maybe he felt it wasn't his place but he was compelled to say it anyways.
"I need my own place," she murmured, refusing to tear her eyes away from the window, though she suddenly saw nothing beyond the glass.
"No, you don't."
He walked away before she could think of an answer that would sound halfway believable.
XXXXX
"This place is incredible," Hardison gushed, as the realtor led him around by the arm. No one did enthusiastic the way he did, and he'd apparently done hours of research solely in order to help her find somewhere to live (she refused to believe he'd had all this knowledge in his head already). "Vaulted ceilings, skylights – look at this expert craftsmanship around the fireplace! 19th century, at least."
"You have quite an eye, Mr. Hardison," the realtor nodded, practically beaming, and Parker shook her head at the fact that it'd only taken an hour for Hardison to get the middle-aged woman to fall in love with him.
"As you know, Sheila, turn of the century architecture is my specialty." Of course, he'd also told the woman that he was a famed French architect, so that might be partly why she was fawning all over him.
The woman suddenly seemed to remember that Parker actually existed, and she was supposed to be showing the apartment to her, not Hardison. "What do you think, dear? It's lovely, isn't it? As soon as I saw the listing come up, I thought of you. You get old world charm with all the most modern and convenient features. It needs a bit of work, but the kitchen and bathrooms have already been completely redone."
"It's great," Parker tried to feign excitement, but the place simply didn't sit well with her. It was old and needed some work, and it was missing something she couldn't put her finger on.
"Right, I see," the realtor's tone dampened at Parker's obvious lack of interest. "I'm still optimistic, but I've shown you over two dozen apartments in the last three weeks. Perhaps if you gave me some more requirements I could narrow things down further?" Parker could tell by her tone that the woman still hoped, but was beginning to wonder if anything would ever please her client.
"I'll jot a few things down," Parker replied, taking some paper from her purse.
"Sheila, I for one, love this place, do you mind if I look around a few more minutes? You might just get me for a buyer instead of my increasingly particular friend, here."
The woman blushed, blushed, and flirtatiously brushed her hand over Hardison's. "Take all the time you need, I'll go let the super know we're almost done here." She left with an honest to God wink at Hardison, and Parker felt more than annoyed.
"She has some nerve. How does she know you're not my husband?" She said, glaring at the door the woman just left through.
"Please, you're not fooling anyone, Parker." Hardison ran his fingers along the window frame, muttered something about beautifully defining woodwork. "We resemble brother and sister more than a couple."
She gave him a look to remind him how absurd that statement was, then turned back to her paper. She only then realized she'd drawn out an actual diagram of an apartment. Her – no, Nate's apartment.
Well if it felt like home, why not find somewhere just like it?
"All I'm saying is the woman is being presumptuous," Parker said as they left.
"You are definitely in love, but not with me," Hardison told her, "surely you must see by now this is a futile endeavor. I mean you've been looking for nearly a month and not one apartment has even warranted a 'maybe' for your list. Are you the only one who can't see it? Would you do all of us a favor and make up with Nate, and stop this crazy search?"
It took every ounce of control she had not to explode.
"Enough with the snide comments like that, alright? I am not in love, nor have I ever been actually, and Nate and I are not, nor were we ever together, and I need my own place to avoid future misperceptions like this!"
"Whatever you want to tell yourself," Hardison was sulking now. He hated when people got angry at him, especially when he was right. She wanted to shove him down the stairs, but he was saved by Sheila's reappearance.
Parker gave her the paper and Sheila's eyebrows went up as high as possible. "Well, it's certainly…specific. I can't make any promises but I'll see what I can do."
"Good," Parker said curtly, and left Hardison on the sidewalk with Sheila as she hailed a cab. He could find his own way home.
XXXXX
"Oh my god," Sophie breathed as they stepped into one of the most beautiful apartments Parker had ever seen in her life. And she'd seen a lot of beautiful apartments. Most of them in the past month.
The rich hardwoods gleamed beneath their feet. Stainless steel appliances shone in the kitchen. The place was richly decorated and beautifully furnished (all included). It veritably screamed 'home' to all who entered.
But apparently that wasn't what Sophie was hung up on. "It is almost exactly like your and Nate's apartment," Sophie whispered, as if raising her voice would shatter the aura and turn it back into a regular old apartment, like the many they'd already seen.
Sophie was right, though. The layout was nearly identical.
Sheila was tentative, but hopeful. "The dimensions are almost exactly what you gave me, Parker. However, the guest bedroom and living room are a bit smaller. But the difference is negligible. If you can believe it, this building was designed by the same architectural firm as your current building. That's why there are so many similarities."
Parker went from room to room silently. And Sheila was right. The bedrooms, the bathrooms, the living space, the office, the dining area, everything – everything was the same. As she walked through, she could almost picture herself and Nate in every room. It was like going home without actually going home.
"It's perfect," she acknowledged to Sheila. And had no idea why she could barely hold back tears.
"Could we have a minute, please?" Sophie asked, and Sheila quickly gave them some space. "Parker, what's the matter? This place is everything you wanted."
"I know," Parker said helplessly, reigning in her emotions as best she could. The hell of it was, she couldn't identify them. Was it happiness or sadness that was making her so emotional? It almost felt like both, mixed together, something which constricted and freed her at the same time. She hated it. "I love the apartment."
"Do you want to live here?" Sophie asked, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I honestly have no idea." They'd ended up in the master bedroom, and she sank onto the bed, running her fingers over the plush bedspread. It was as beautiful as the rest of the apartment.
"I've held my tongue, Parker, these past few months. But now I feel I have tell you something." Sophie sat next to her, close but not touching.
Parker watched her friend restlessly survey the room, seemingly reluctant to say what she wanted to say. "It's okay." Parker said encouragingly.
"Far be it from me to ever…that is, in a million years, I never imagined myself telling another woman…telling someone who loved Nate, the way I love him, that she should be with him."
Parker was going to swiftly refute this, but Sophie rushed to keep talking.
"I'm not in love with him, Parker. I mean I was, once; I fully admit it. We have a history, of course, but things never worked out for us and now we're friends, good friends, and I wouldn't want it any other way. Because I think we are what we were always meant to be – friends."
Parker watched her closely, because she had a sudden suspicion where the conversation was going, and she didn't like it.
Sophie closed her eyes and folded her hands primly on her lap. "What I'm trying to say is…while Nate is my friend, so are you. And I've never seen Nate so happy before as he was when you two were together."
"What?" Parker gripped the bedspread tightly as her mind whirled.
"I mean, in all the time I've known him – ever. And yes, that includes the time when…we were together."
"But Nate and I have never been together," Parker said dully.
"Whatever you want to call it," Sophie smiled sadly, and Parker realized how hard this must be for her to admit. "My point is, you make him happy. And since you've started going on this apartment search, things have changed. Neither of you are happy anymore. I only want you to think about what you're doing before you make this decision. If there's any way that the two of you can fix things and get back together, I think you both owe it to yourselves."
Parker could only watch as the other woman stood and smoothed down her skirt. Had Sophie really just told her that Nate was happier with Parker when they weren't even together than he was with Sophie when they were dating? It made no sense. She couldn't believe it. But everything she knew of him seemed to confirm it, and…
"I've said my peace," Sophie cleared her throat, obviously embarrassed. "Why don't you take some time before you decide? I'll go tell Sheila – "
"No, I've already made up my mind," Parker told her, and she left the room, never having been so unsure in her life.
XXXXX
She tossed her keys on their table and found him in the living room. He was sitting with his laptop on the couch, but whatever was on the screen couldn't have been that engaging, because he was staring across the room at the wall they'd painted with five different colors, trying to choose the best one.
"I found the most perfect apartment today," she told him, and he looked up as if he didn't even realize she came home. The welcoming smile that spread across his face nearly stopped her heart.
"Great, I'm glad," he closed his computer and invited her to sit next to him. She did, but made sure to leave more space between them than she ever had before. He didn't comment on it.
"It's almost exactly like this one," she told him, sifting through the stack of magazines on the coffee table as if she were really looking for something. "The layout, that is. The furniture and décor is different, of course, but I think it'd be perfect for here. We should go with cream beige on that wall," she pointed across the way, "to lighten up the entryway."
She could see him nodding out of the corner of her eye. "I agree, it's a far cry from the fire engine red Hardison suggested, but it will work."
"I think he was joking."
"I don't think so – you've seen his place, right?"
She smiled slightly, wanted more than anything to simply relax on their couch the way she had done every day for the past six months, but she couldn't bring herself to do it tonight.
"Sophie already told me about the apartment you found…" he trailed off, but when she didn't start talking, he had to continue. "She didn't tell me what you decided."
"Because she doesn't know. I mean it's perfect, Nate. I don't use that word lightly. But it felt like coming home, almost. Like walking in here. I went from room to room, and not only do I love the design, I love the furnishings that are included. I wouldn't change anything about it. Except there's one overlying thing about it that I couldn't discern. Something that's off."
He frowned, concerned now. "What was it? Did you figure it out?"
"Yes, I did. It took me awhile, but then I realized it. And it seemed so obvious I don't know why it didn't hit me earlier. It's what's been wrong with every apartment I've seen so far. One thing missing from every place."
He waited, and waited. "Well?" He finally asked with exasperation.
"You. You were missing."
That clearly confused him, if the way he was now looking at her sideways was any indication. "Well obviously I wasn't there, you didn't want me to come with you. I mean…" It must have hit him then because his eyes widened. He couldn't say anything because she had quite literally made him speechless.
She paused for an instant, before rushing on quickly. "But it's okay, Nate, because I can get over that. Obviously I let myself get too affected by our…friendship. I shouldn't have said anything. I already made up my mind. I said I'll take the apartment."
She didn't know if it was anger, or relief, or hurt that drove him from the room. He may have been upset she was leaving, but she knew it couldn't bother him that badly. Because in all the time she'd been apartment hunting, there was one simple thing he could have done to get her to stay.
Ask her.
XXXXX
The next few weeks were worse than any she'd ever lived through before. Sophie, Hardison, and Eliot stopped coming around altogether, which they only managed because they didn't have a job at the moment. Usually they were always around whether they had a con going on or not.
They were the lucky ones, though.
Because she had to endure the glacial atmosphere that her home had become. She and Nate avoided each other at all costs, and on the few occasions they accidentally came into contact with each other, it was awkward and depressing.
Where had their friendship gone? The closeness? The months of memories they created together in a home that was fairly happy, despite its unconventionality? They'd all vanished, and when Nate coldly demanded his key back the day before she was set to leave, she began to wonder if they ever happened outside of her mind at all. That maybe she created, in some sort of bizarre alternate world, the happiness that once lived in their apartment.
She realized, months too late to do anything about it, that she never wanted to leave. But the way things were, there was no way she could stay.
He wasn't even there on the day she was set to move out. He left without a word around the crack of dawn – it was 5 AM when she heard the front door slam.
At least the others showed up to help her. Most of her stuff was packed already, and Hardison and Eliot took pity on her and told her to go ahead with Sophie – they'd bring the rest of her stuff down to the moving truck so she didn't have to.
In the cab ride on the way over to her new apartment, she couldn't keep it all inside anymore. She'd already told Sophie what happened the night she informed Nate she was taking the apartment.
"I understand if he didn't want to help me move, but he didn't even stay to say goodbye to me," she morosely watched the buildings fly by. "What did I do that is so unforgivable?"
"You didn't do anything. This is how Nate deals with things. Give him some time, he'll cool down. I'm sure of it."
Parker wanted to believe her, but part of her couldn't. In her entire life, she couldn't think of one man who hadn't let her down, and as much as she had truly believed, only a few months ago, that Nate would be that man – because he was the best friend she'd ever known – now she couldn't believe it. Not after how he'd pushed her away so completely.
She tortured herself by thinking of how she might have done things differently. How she could have fixed this situation in a way that he wanted – the only problem was she had no idea what he might have wanted, because he never told her.
As a result, the best relationship she'd ever had with a man – romantic or otherwise – was gone, in an instant.
It hurt more than she thought anything could.
"You're home," Sophie said brightly when the cab pulled up to Parker's new apartment building.
There is no home, Parker thought angrily, but refrained from saying it. Sophie was trying, and she didn't want to hurt someone else simply because she couldn't get away from her own pain.
"Can you give me a minute?" Parker asked when they were outside her door. With a look between pity and resignation, Sophie agreed to wait in the hallway.
Parker wasn't sure why, but she wanted to enter her apartment alone. She'd be doing it for years to come, so she thought she better get used to it. And part of her wanted to know if it would be as unbearable as she imagined.
The key turned in the lock easily, and she opened it. It felt like home – but not – the same uncanny feeling she got every time she came into this apartment. Her mind tricked her and she almost threw her keys onto the side table she was so used to, except there wasn't one in this apartment. She'd have to remedy that first thing.
She flipped on the lights and walked down the hallway. With every other step it felt like home, and for the steps in between it felt like she was in a stranger's apartment. She couldn't get over it and wondered if she ever would.
She reached the living room and turned on the nearest lamp. The couch, the end tables, the chairs – everything was as she left it a few days before, the last time she was there.
Except one thing.
Nathan Ford was sitting on her couch.
She was surprised, and yet not. And she bit her lip so that she wouldn't cry.
"You're here," she stated the obvious and watched helplessly as he stood and crossed the room to her. She was glad, because she thought if she tried to make it to him, her legs would give out.
"I know you've thought the past few weeks I was trying to distance myself from you," he said once he was right in front of her. "And the truth is, I was. I did everything I could to get away from you, because I know it's what you wanted. And then one night, when you were gone and I was home, alone, I realized, it's not what I wanted, and why was I so intent on doing everything you wanted and forgetting about myself completely? Selfish, I know, but the thing is, once you leave, it won't only stop being your home. It will stop being my home, too."
"Nate –" She took a breath to try and regain her composure. "I don't understand. You…you never asked me to stay."
"Because I knew you wanted to go," he told her simply, which made her tear up. Trust Nate to go and be all sacrificial thinking he was doing what she wanted him to do.
"I never wanted to go," she whispered. "And you're an idiot…but I guess I was, too," she added for good measure, because she realized all of this could have been avoided if they'd ever sat down and really talked about things. But no, that was too simple, it made too much sense. Of course they hadn't done it.
"Parker," he whispered, pulling her close to him and resting his forehead against hers. "I wouldn't be asking if it was something I didn't think you could give. Because despite my selfishness, it has come to my realization that what I actually want more than anything is for you to be happy, whether I am or not. And so, I have to ask you, what makes you happy? That is…in any possible future, could I make you happy?"
"You're the only one who's ever made me truly happy," she said through her tears and kissed him with all the love and passion she could muster, intent on making him believe her as much as she believed the words he just uttered. He took control quickly though, and before she knew it she was backed against the wall of their – no, her – new apartment, his mouth on hers like he owned her, and maybe he did.
She felt some sort of monumental shift in the air between them, or in the apartment as a whole, and she broke away for a moment so she could comment on it. "I'm home," she told him, happier than she'd been in weeks. "Wherever we are, together, that's home." Then she mentally rolled her eyes at herself for saying something so...Sophie.
But Nate apparently didn't mind her sappiness, because the kiss he gave her in response told her that he whole-heartedly agreed.
XXXXX
"So we have something to tell you guys," Parker said nervously. Nate gripped her hand in silent support as the two of them stood in the conference room of Nate's apartment.
The others hadn't really been paying attention, but the tone of her voice must have alerted them, because they all turned to look at her. Hardison even pulled himself away from his cinnamon swirl bagel, which, as he reminded them loudly, was quite the sacrifice.
"The thing is…I mean…" She found she couldn't say the words. Thankfully Nate stepped in.
"We're seeing each other," he said. The two of them paused, waiting for, well, more of a reaction than they got.
"You're back together?" Sophie sounded thrilled, and Parker could read in her eyes how she was envisioning it was all thanks to her interference.
"No, there is no 'back', just the 'together' part." Nate tried to explain. Quite unsuccessfully.
"So you're not back together?" Hardison frowned.
"No, we're together. But not back together." Parker told him, and it sounded confusing even to her, and she lived through the whole damn ordeal.
"Are you back together or not?" Eliot demanded. "Because this is like I'm watching a soap opera and if it's not Days of Our Lives then I'm wasting my time."
The group paused almost in unison to assess Eliot, before Hardison shrugged it off and refocused on the couple standing before them. "Is this like some kind of joke? Are you trying to get back at us for figuring out you were dating and trying– badly, by the way – to hide it from us?"
Nate and Parker exchanged exasperated glances, both thinking this might have been a battle they lost before it began.
Nate felt he had to try once more, because apparently he wanted to be punished further. "No. Okay I'm going to explain it right now, clearly. Parker and I were never dating each other. All that time we were living together and…"
"Acting like a couple," Parker supplied, unhelpfully. He glared at her.
"Yes, all that time, we actually weren't together. But now we are dating."
"You guys are so damn confusing," Eliot said, "so I'll just pretend like I know what the hell you're talking about. You two were 'never together'," he even did sarcastic air quotes. "But either way I don't care because now that you've made up or whatever this is, I don't have to deal with you two being miserable anymore. Can I go now? Because I'm hungry and if I don't grab the last bagel then Hardison is going to hide it –"
"You guys," Sophie was smiling at them like they were adorable children. Everything they'd said had gone completely over her head. "You're so sweet, pretending as if this is the first time you're together. I get it, you know? Pretending this is a new romance, it starts the magic all over again…" she stared off into space and was clearly not thinking about either of them, but some past fling Parker prayed she was not going to start describing in detail.
Nate tried futilely to regain control of the rapidly deteriorating discussion. "I think we've explained things well enough–"
Sophie didn't even hear him. "I once had this boyfriend named Romero who –"
"No, no," Parker said quickly. "Sophie, you keep that one to yourself."
Hardison, for his part, only seemed more confused. "I didn't understand one word of anything that you said. However, I am willing to play along with your game and just say that I believe you're together or not together or… whatever the hell you two just tried to explain, frankly I forget." He shrugged and then lunged at Eliot for stealing his cream cheese.
"Parker's not going to be moving into her new apartment, either."
At Nate's voice, Hardison had frozen in the middle of trying to regain his cream cheese and Eliot took the opportunity to shove him, which caused him to land unceremoniously on the floor. "See if you can find that bagel now," Hardison snapped, jumping up and racing to the kitchen with Eliot close behind.
Sophie was still watching them as if they were the most romantic movie she'd ever seen. "I'm so happy you took my advice, Parker, and that both of you tried to work it out before ending things. I think you two can go all the way."
"Go all the way where?" Parker asked.
"You know," Sophie stuttered, at a loss for words. "Um, the end of…each of you."
"You mean until we die?" Parker didn't really want to think about her or Nate's death.
"Oh, honey, you're so romantic," Nate told her, tightening his hold on her hand in what she assumed was a reassurance that he wasn't going anywhere. She didn't miss the amusement in his eyes, either.
Hardison returned, holding a bagel triumphantly over his head. Eliot wasn't far behind, and Hardison seemed to realize he was near death, as he rounded the conference table opposite Eliot.
"Really, I'm happy for you two. Wait, I am supposed to be happy, right? Because you're…not back together?" Hardison darted back and forth, trying to trick Eliot.
"Forget it, Hardison, the whole thing was a joke. We're not together at all," Parker told him. "In fact, I hate him. I always have. You couldn't tell?"
If Hardison wasn't confused before, he sure was at that moment. He was just about to say something when Nate grabbed Parker and kissed her. Trying, Parker assumed, to prove a point.
The second she and Nate let go of each other, she trying to catch her breath and compose herself after seeing the promise in his eyes, Hardison announced: "Please, guys, that is the fakest kiss I have ever seen." He turned to Sophie. "Come here and let's show them how it's done."
"In your dreams," she told him haughtily.
To which he only winked and said, "You know it, baby."
"Can we knock off the sexual harassment for a moment?" Nate pleaded, and Parker shook her head, though she admired his persistence.
"Sexual harassment?" Hardison said irritably, "I'm not the one molesting a woman who just said she hates me."
Parker smirked and fell into one of the chairs, mentally crossing off 'screw with Hardison's mind today' from her daily checklist.
"Parker, would you help me here?" Nate asked. She merely shrugged. "No? Okay, then this meeting is adjourned." He must have hoped that would send them away, but he forgot how they tended to hang around all day long for no apparent reason.
Eliot and Hardison had gone back to fighting over the bagels (they raised fighting over pointless things to a near art form) and Sophie ignored them, even when Hardison used her as a shield for protection from Eliot. "I don't know if you're all aware," she announced, "But I was recently certified on the internet as a relationship counselor, so if you two ever need – "
Parker took pity on Nate, finally, and cut off Sophie. "I think we're good, thanks."
Nate merely shut his eyes and shook his head, as if he couldn't believe this was the team he chose to work with him.
Hardison gestured from Nate to Parker and back again, bagel in hand. "You two should maybe take Sophie up on that offer, since you can't seem to agree on the state of your relationship."
"Thanks Hardison," Sophie beamed, which won her a smile in return – until she reached out and snatched the bagel from his hand. She sauntered out, and Eliot stared angrily at his colleague.
"Now look what you did, I'm going to starve!" He stormed out after Sophie and Hardison trailed behind, promising Eliot he'd go out and buy him more bagels if Eliot would agree not to hold it against him.
"They took it…well," Nate said, once the room was clear. He turned to the only person left in the room, as Parker idly turned back and forth in one of the conference table chairs. "You hate me, hmm?"
She shivered a bit at the intensity of his gaze, but couldn't help smiling, "Come on, you can't blame me for teasing him." She hoped she'd never get used to the way she felt whenever she was the sole center of Nathan Ford's attention.
"You realize you set Hardison back a week with that little statement." He tugged on her hand and she allowed herself to be pulled out of the chair.
"Why bother trying to explain anymore? None of them will ever believe we weren't together before," she said. "Now even I'm starting to wonder."
He smoothed the hair back from her face and looked into her eyes. "That's fine with me."
"Yeah, me too," she murmured.
It's just as well, was her last thought before he kissed her.
No one would believe the truth anyways. If they could figure it out to begin with.
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