A/N: What was it I was supposed to be doing...writing something...oh! That's right, that silly little fic 'Always Had a Reason'. Procrastination, thy name is muse. Haha. So I felt like writing something angsty and this is what came out. Meh. And, WEIRD ALERT it's not Eliot/Parker pairing, it's (drumroll please) Eliot/Sophie! Who saw that coming? Show of hands. No one? Hehe, after all this time I still have the ability to surprise you. *sniff* I may cry...okay. It's obviously waaaay past my bedtime and I'm getting delusional. Sorry about that. Enjoy! –pj

Disclaimer: I've tweeted Dean Devlin into oblivion but he has yet to yield to my demands.

When Eliot went down to McRory's that night, he wasn't expecting to see Sophie there. Nate, sure. Hardison or Parker, not uncommon. But Sophie? It just wasn't her typical hangout. She liked places with tablecloths and champagne and dress codes.

McRory's Pub just wasn't her scene.

Regardless, there she was, hunched over the bar and an empty shot glass, a bottle of scotch beside it. She looked uncharacteristically red eyed and rumpled. Defeated even.

Eliot thought twice, but found himself sliding onto the stool beside her, waving at the bartender for a beer.

"Scotch, Sophie? That ain't usually your drink of choice," he said after downing a few sips.

She spared him a glance and sat back, fingering her glass and laughed bitterly. "If u can't beat 'em, join 'em, right?"

"Nate again?"

"Again? Still," she shook her head and added quietly, "always."

Eliot sighed and watched the condensation slide down the side of his bottle. "If a guy can't see how great you are Sophie, especially a guy as smart as Nate, then I say...screw 'em."

Sophie smiled, turning to look at him for the first time.

"You think I'm great, Eliot?" she asked, propping her chin on her hand.

"Not a matter if thinking, Soph. It's true. And if Nate can't get his act together and see that then-" he was cut off by unexpected pressure on his lips.

When she pulled back from the kiss Sophie's eyes were glued to the bar.

"I-I, um, I think I might have had a bit too much to drink tonight."

Eliot blinked a few times and turned back to face his bottle. Stiffly, he nodded and cleared his throat.

"Yeah," he said roughly, drinking down a few swigs of his beer. "I guess so."

With that Eliot stood and dropping a few bills on the counter to cover their drinks, he jerked his head toward the door. "C'mon, I'll walk you upstairs."

Sophie gave him a soft, blushing smile and slinked toward the door.

"Such a gentlemen," she muttered as she passed him, earning a grunt in response.

oooOOOooo

By the time they'd made it up to her apartment she was practically on top of him putting those words to the test. Greedy hands explored every inch of him, hot lips pressed against the skin of his neck and face.

Eliot found he was having a hard time fending her off and opening her door with her keys at the same time.

"Sophie, So-," he reached up and wrapped his hands around her arms, forcibly pushing her back. "What the hell are you doing, Sophie?"

She stumbled back a bit, smiling so hard it could not reach her eyes, lips still swollen from their encounter with his.

"I shouldn't think I would have to explain that to you of all people Eliot," she said, and shrugged off his arms, back to peppering his neck and jaw with feverish, desperate kisses.

He closed his eyes and threw his head back, banging it loudly against the wall and causing a framed Monet to tumble to the floor . Momentarily he wondered when they'd entered Sophie's apartment. But the thought disappeared as quickly as it came in a haze of electricity and doubt.

"Sophie, just stop for a minute," he pushed her back again and she gave him an irritated, almost angry look.

"My my, Eliot. I hope you don't give all your women this much trouble."

Eliot pushed back his hair and glared, "you're not one of my women Sophie and I," his voice cracked slightly and he took a breath to get himself back under control, the ghost of Sophie's smoldering lips still sending sparks down his spine, "I'm not the gentleman you think i am."

Sophie's eyes darkened and she smiled another one of those fake, con smiles that left him wishing he was a better man. Or at least a stronger one.

"That's what I'm counting on Eliot," and she was back, everywhere at once. Her hands in his hair, her knee between his legs, her fingers fumbling with his belt. Her tongue on his lips, her teeth on his ear.

Eliot closed his eyes at the flash of guilt that shot through him and turned his face away. Not to be discouraged, Sophie started devouring his neck instead, pulling at the buttons of his shirt until they popped.

"Sophie please." he croaked.

A part of her knew it is not a plea for her to continue, but just the opposite, that of a man just shy of too far gone and begging her not to ask him to go further. But she was already a lost cause and closed her eyes, smashing her lips into his unyieldingly.

When she finally felt Eliot start to respond beneath her she tried to convince herself it would all be okay in the morning.

oooOOOooo

Eliot was awake when she left the bed just before first light a couple of hours later. He stayed facing the wall, pretending to be asleep, listening to Sophie as she gathered her things around the room and slipped into the bathroom without a word.

Then he got up and did the same, gathering his things and heading for the front door, Sophie scent still lingering on his skin.

oooOOOooo

The next day Eliot barely said a word to Sophie when the team gathered at Nate's. He pointedly refused to look at her when she spoke and she had flashbacks to the way he was during the Second David Job when he referred to her as 'she' instead of 'Sophie'.

Nate was giving them both odd looks by the time the briefing ended, and Eliot immediately stood to leave. When Sophie started to follow Nate called her back.

"I don't know what's going on with you two," he said quietly, giving her a dark look that said he probably did know exactly what was going on, "but fix it before the job."

Sophie nodded, unsure of how to interpret the myriad of emotions bubbling up inside her, and went in search of Eliot.

She found him in the training room adjoining Nate's apartment, unpacking a new heavy bag.

"What the hell, Eliot," Sophie demanded immediately.

Eliot glanced at her disinterestedly, "somethin' I can help you with, Sophie?"

"Yeah, you can tell me what that performance was all about in there," she gestured wildly toward the other room, hands on her cocked hips.

Eliot's eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips, standing and turning to look at her in the same fluid motion.

"My, performance?" He sputtered, his feigned disinterest turning to barely controlled rage in seconds. His face flushed as he thrust a hand out toward her, "don't you dare put this on me Sophie."

Sophie looked taken aback and almost seemed at a loss for words so Eliot continued hotly, his voice deathly quiet.

"You used me, Sophie. You figured all the rumors of me being a womanizer and a good lay were true and that you'd take advantage."

"Don't like at me like that, Eliot, okay?" Sophie defended, throwing her hands in the air, "I was drunk last night and you-"

"I what? Huh?" He took a step forward and Sophie stopped, knowing her argument was thin. She expected him to call her on the con. To point out that it was her that initiated the kiss. That he tried to stop and it was she that insisted he not.

But he doesn't.

He mostly just looked hurt and it cut her much deeper than she expected.

"C'mon Sophie, I ain't an idiot. One shot, maybe two. Right?" he shook his head, "you weren't drunk. You knew exactly what you were doing."

"Look- Eliot," she dropped her arms in defeat, looking ashamed and a bit cornered. She just wanted this all to go away. Everything that happened last night. Everything happening now. She just wanted things to go back to being normal and easy.

"I don't see what the big deal is," she tried, wanting to rationalize her behavior. "You sleep with lots of girls. Many of them probably don't even stay the night. Alright? What's the difference? It was good, wasn't it?"

"It's different with you, Sophie." Eliot said, now pacing, repeatedly tossing his head to keep his hair out of his eyes.

"How? How is it different?" she shot back, "you don't respect them? Or you think less of them than you do me?"

"It's not like that! I don't care about them like you. I don't -" he stopped short, looking frustrated. Shaking his head Eliot turned away, going back to his new heavy bag.

Sophie blinked, drawing back as if sense had suddenly been slapped into her.

"You don't what?"

"Nothing. Forget it." He grumbled, keeping his back to her.

"I won't forget it, Eliot. What were you going to say?" She moved to stand in his line of sight.

"I don't love them, Sophie!" He exploded, his temper getting the better of him again.

Sophie reached up to cover her mouth.

"Oh my God."

Eliot raised his hands, as if he could stop her train of thought with the gesture.

"Look just, just forget I said that," he told her and cursed quietly to himself. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to be calm.

"Sophie, you love Nate. I get that. Nate feels the same way about you and…I won't get between you two. That's one lover's crossfire I don't intend to stand in the middle of." He shook his head, "just forget it."

Sophie looked to be an equal mixture of shock and tears, "My God, Eliot. I'm so sorry I-I didn't think…" she paused and let out a breath. "I didn't think."

Eliot sighed and shrugged, but didn't respond.

They stared at one another, neither knowing what to say.

"What do we do now?" Sophie asked after the silence had turned awkward.

Eliot took a deep breath and shook his head, "nuthin'. We go back. Back to before. Forget last night ever happened."

Sophie nodded slightly, considering this option, "I suppose we could," she said quietly, and Eliot looked just a little bit deflated that she agreed so quickly.

"Or."

He narrowed his eyes, his first instinct to be suspicious of anything that seemed to good to be true.

But Sophie was looking certain for the first time that day.

"Or what?"

"Or, we could think about last night as a…beginning of sorts."

Eliot immediately shook his head, "No, Sophie. Nate-"

"Screw Nate." She interrupted. Eliot's eyes widened in surprise.

Sophie just shook her head, gesturing toward the door, where somewhere on the other side Nate was drowning his sorrows in a drink and a job.

"Nate has a lot of things he's dealing with on his own right now. He's not ready. And I… well I think maybe I'm tired of waiting."

Eliot stayed still as she took another step closer, so close that he could smell her with every breath. Soap and vanilla. Flowers and sunshine.

Sophie looked up at him with big brown eyes before her gaze dropped to his lips.

Hesitantly, she reached up and stopped just short of touching his face with her hands.

"May I?" She whispered.

Eliot stood there, tension coming off him in waves, wound tighter than a coiled spring. And though his expression was closed, Sophie suddenly realized she could see a symphony of emotions rolling through his eyes. The openness, tempered by caution and fear, the vulnerability mixed with honesty.

To anyone else he would have looked frightening in that moment, glaring and uncertain, but not to her. And she found herself suddenly wondering when she'd gotten so good at reading him, and how she had missed the change.

Eliot didn't give verbal consent, but just as hesitantly as she had, he reached out and put his hands on her hips. Slowly, ever so slowly, he bent his head down to meet her upturned face.

Their lips brushed, only barely, and it was almost too much.

It felt new and soulful and like the first time all over again.

Sophie's hands had found their way into his hair and were clasped tightly at the back of his neck, keeping him close as she whispered against his lips.

"I'm sorry everything went so wrong last night."

Eliot gave a half smirk, all of his anger drained away with that single kiss.

"I guess we'll have to work on gettin' it right from now on," he drawled.

Sophie opened her eyes fully and pulled back enough to look him in the face.

"There's going to be a 'from now on'?"

Eliot shrugged, not wanting to entertain how many intense emotions he'd cycled through in the past day, all at the fault of the woman in his arms.

"If that's what you want. I've never been able to deny a beautiful lady anything she wants."

Sophie smiled and leaned up, kissing him again.

This time their lips met with laughter and relief and grace and the knowledge that this was only the beginning.

END - Okay, for real this time, I'm going to go work on 'Always Had A Reason'...maybe...