She's Always a Woman

By sorayali

Disclaimers: I do not own anything. "She's Always a Woman" is a Billy Joel song that I borrowed because I thought it fit Nate and Sophie so perfectly. This is set pre-series and assumes Nate is still married to Maggie and that Sam is still alive. Rated T just to be safe. Please R& R!

Nate was staring at the brunette waltzing with a much older man. He took in the little black dress that she wore. The tulle skirt, which was studded with diamonds, billowed out creating the illusion of stars spinning in a night sky. As her dark brown eyes met his clear blue ones, he saw they were filled with passion. Guiltily, he knew his own eyes must be a reflection of hers. He cursed and blamed it on the soft classical music that made him feel like he was in a scene from an old movie. They were surrounded by couples dancing to the romantic music. Everywhere Nate looked, he saw couples swaying intimately together with a mere whisper of space between them. While the rest of the women wore their hair in elegant updos, the brunette only wore a sparkly diamond hair clip. Yet to Nate, Sophie was the most beautiful woman in the room.

Nate took a look around him. He was standing in a spacious ballroom in an old French mansion. Like several old mansions, this one was now an art museum housing famous paintings. Tonight's dance was a benefit to showcase the museum's art collection and to encourage patrons to contribute to its upkeep. The room reflected the elegance of French architecture at the time of Louis XIV. On the ceiling there were cherubs, each one seemed to be focused on the spectacle occurring below. The walls were painted gold and reflected the light from the chandeliers.

Nate ran a hand through his slightly tousled, dark brown hair. As he was gazing at the angels, Sophie approached him. Normally, he would have already sensed her presence a few feet away. By chance, the music had changed to something slower and a song that sounded familiar to him. Sophie put a hand on his shoulder, and he almost jumped in surprise. She smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Nathan Ford, may I have this dance?" her voice glided over the words effortlessly.

What could he say? If he said no, she might never ask again. Wait, did he want her to ask him again? What was he thinking? He was married to Maggie, but Sophie's voice had a soft hidden melody to it that Maggie's voice lacked. Yet, like Odysseus, he felt drawn to the siren's song that was Sophie's voice. However, there were no earplugs to drown her voice out, nor was there anything strong enough to which he could tether his heart. His desire and his love for her would ultimately break free. Yet this same longing, love, or both, would cause his heart to drown in a sea of loneliness. For she could never truly be his, not as long as he wanted to keep his family together.

Her eyes, like dark brown topaz, sparkled brighter than the diamonds on her dress. Nate adjusted his tie, which was dangling like some sort of floppy tongue against his black tux. Sophie smiled slightly, while she waited for his response. Nate muttered "Sure," so low that Sophie had to lean in closer to hear him. The space between them seemed to shrink in that one moment and Nate had to resist the urge to kiss her. Taking her hand in his, he reminded himself that the only reason he was attending this benefit was to catch her. He was an insurance claims investigator and had tracked Sophie to this museum. She had stolen a Van Gogh masterpiece, and he was intent on arresting her and making her pay. He had vowed to himself that he would catch her this time, but he felt his resolve slipping as he recognized the song. It was "The Way You Look Tonight." All of a sudden, he felt trapped. Of course, Sophie had to pick this song. "The Way You Look Tonight" was the first song that he and Maggie had danced to as husband and wife at their wedding reception. If he backed down now and refused to dance with her, Sophie would win. She would flee with the Van Gogh to another one of her safe houses, and the chase would begin again. Honestly, he welcomed this respite in chasing her. He realized he could smell her perfume, a mixture of roses and vanilla. He was mesmerized as she led them across the ballroom, much the same as she took the lead in their relationship. He was never that good a dancer anyway. She somehow fit perfectly in his arms, even more perfectly than Maggie. Maggie, he reflected with guilt, that's right, Maggie, his wife. Yet, she was too much like him. He hadn't felt passion when he kissed Maggie, but with Sophie, even dancing was like striking a match. His whole world was on fire and that was just from her touch. He wondered if Sophie felt the same way, or was just acting the part, so she could toy with him and keep him at bay.

Nate was jolted out of his thoughts when the music changed to a Billy Joel song. Nate almost stopped dancing when he heard what it was. He always associated this particular song with Sophie. It was the very first song he had mentally assigned to her in fact. "She's Always a Woman" drifted over the dancers as he and Sophie seemed to fall into a rhythm all their own. Nate held Sophie in his arms as they danced.

She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes. She can ruin your faith with her casual lies. And she only reveals what she wants you to see. She hides like a child but she's always a woman to me. On the words "she's always a woman to me," Nate spun Sophie around, and the diamonds on her dress sparkled, catching the light from the chandelier above. Nate no longer listened to the music for awhile but instead focused on Sophie. He noted her trademark enigmatic smile, her ruby lipstick, and her brown hair, which fell to her shoulders in flowing waves.

"So, how are you Nate?" Sophie's voice interrupted his silent appraisal of her.

"Fine, and you?" Nate followed her lead again and made polite conversation as if they were friends. Yeah, right, Nate, the voice inside his head taunted.

"Fine, thank you." Sophie seemed surprised and delighted that he was playing along with her little game.

"So, what brings you here?" Nate said.

"The atmosphere. It's really quite intoxicating, isn't it? Oh, and my love of art. What about you, Nate?"

"The same." Nate wanted to say "you" but somehow the words would not come out. To make up for the awkwardness, he decided to dip Sophie. And she'll promise you more than the garden of Eden. She spun away from him in revenge. Then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding. But she brings out the best and the worst you can be. Blame it all on yourself but she's always a woman to me.

Sophie whispered in his ear, "I know you're lying, Nate. The real reason you're here is because I'm here."

"Maybe I just love art, too." Nate realized as he said the words that they were lame. Sophie was on to him. He needed to think up a real excuse quickly.

"Maggie was going to come with me. It was going to be a sort of date night, but she couldn't make it, and I didn't want to waste the plane tickets." Nate took a breath after rambling off his excuse.

"Nate, you're such a terrible liar." Sophie's warm breath tickled his ear. "Never mind, let's dance before it's too late."

"Too late for what?"

"Before I turn into a pumpkin, silly. No, really, Nate. Before you catch me. You're being awfully dense tonight."

Nate gladly took Sophie up on her offer to continue dancing if only to get past the rather awkward moment that seemed to stretch into eternity.

The Billy Joel song enveloped them in a private world where words were no longer necessary. Nate succumbed to Sophie's fluid motions as she gently led him through the song. Sophie was an adept dancer. Nate wondered belatedly if his wallet was still in his pocket. Sophie was also a skilled pickpocket. She often teased him by lifting his wallet during the course of their several encounters. She would always give it back to him before disappearing into the night or the shadows. He tried to remind himself to stay alert, but he felt hypnotized by the carefully choreographed dance that Sophie guided him through, as they swept across the ballroom floor. He was jolted out of his thoughts by the surprise drop that Sophie took, somehow maneuvering his arms without his knowledge and making it seem like he had intended to do that all along. Then she spun away from him, and he quickly spun her back. All of these movements took place in less than a minute. Nate tried to reestablish his equilibrium but with Sophie, he never knew if he had started on an even keel to begin with.

No, he thought. He knew that every time he saw her his black and white world turned upside-down. She was incredible. When he was chasing her, he felt like he was in a dream. A wonderful Technicolor dream in his dull world of absolutes. She could make him feel so alive and yet, she was forbidden. Like every dream encounter with Sophie, he would wake up back in the States. He would ask Maggie how Sam had been since he was gone. Maggie would give him a look that made him feel guilty. He was out chasing thieves while Maggie was there for their son. He was like Batman, the lonely vigilante who saved others but could not find his own personal happiness. If he were Batman, Sophie would be his Catwoman; his weakness and the one woman whom he couldn't have. All he could do was to steal moments alone with her as he chased her from one exotic city to another.

These were moments that his conscience would pay for later. Whenever he returned home, Maggie and Sam would be waiting for him at the airport. Sam always had a new drawing he had made for his daddy's homecoming. Nate kept them all in frames on his office wall. They would remind him and anchor him to his true home, his family.

Nate had to concentrate hard on the task at hand. This time he would catch Sophie, and he would make her pay for the time she had gotten away with a Van Gogh painting worth millions. However, it was almost impossible to concentrate as her hair was suddenly pushed into his face as she twirled around. Her hair smelled like vanilla and roses. It didn't help that vanilla bean was his favorite ice cream flavor. Sophie probably knew that. Like Nate, Sophie pieced together the subtle details about a person to gain an advantage. But just then, Sophie smiled in that coquettish way that only she could pull off then whispered in his ear,

"Nate, you haven't said much. Penny for your thoughts?"

Nate unconsciously stiffened, as he felt her soft breath hit his ear.

"Only that much? I would've thought my thoughts were worth more than that." Nate's weak comeback revealed his unease at Sophie's proximity. Sometimes he wondered if she actually had any feelings for him or if she was toying with him as she did with all the other men she conned or manipulated.

Sophie looked at him innocently before she asked the next question.

"What do you want for them?" Nate was unprepared for her surprise move. Her words danced in the air between them for several moments before he could think up a proper response.

"What are you willing to pay?" Nate tried to act as if this was just part of their usual cat-and-mouse game, but underneath the façade, there was another game going on that neither could ignore.

Nate had no way of knowing how Sophie would react next. The one thing that he had learned about Sophie during their cat-and-mouse chase across the world was that she was unpredictable. Nate stood there dumbfounded waiting for her answer and all of a sudden, he was left alone amongst the crowd of elegantly dressed Parisians and foreign art aficionados. Sophie had seamlessly disappeared into the crowd without warning. Nate searched for the sparkly diamond hair clip or the glittery black clutch she had been holding…any sign that might tell him of her whereabouts. However, Sophie had a habit of disappearing in a moment. He felt his back pants pocket. Yep, Sophie had managed to take his wallet, too. Good thing, he had prepared for this possibility and only put a copy of his passport and less than the equivalent of 30 U.S. dollars in euros in it. Sophie was probably halfway to Charles de Gaulle Airport by now with his wallet.

He sighed in frustration. This was yet another time she had conned him. She had left him, as usual, feeling frustrated but also with a sense of longing that would only disappear when he encountered her again. He left the soiree and headed back to his hotel. The concierge stopped him as he walked past the front desk,

"Are you Monsieur Ford?" At Nate's nod of confirmation the concierge handed him a package. "A Mademoiselle Devereux requested that I give this to you. She said you might need it." Nate waited until he got back to his hotel room and locked the door until he opened the package. Inside it was a hastily scrawled note, which read,

I enjoyed dancing with you tonight. À la prochaine!*

-Sophie

Also inside the package was his wallet. However, everything was left intact. Why did she bother taking his wallet, then? He then noticed that although nothing was missing from his wallet there was something else in the package. It was a postcard from Rome, Italy. Sophie had scrawled something else in her elegant handwriting. Written on the back of a postcard of the Spanish Steps was the following message,

I heard that Rome is rather nice this time of year. If you care to join me and recover what's yours, I'll be waiting for you.

-Sophie

Nate pushed the postcard into his suitcase. It looked like Rome was his next destination. He felt the adrenaline rush through his veins as he called and arranged the next flight to Rome. He could still hear her voice in his ear taunting him as she asked him for a penny for his thoughts. Nate would catch her this time. He would catch her and force her to give him the Van Gogh. But as he looked at the postcard, he knew she had taken something even more valuable. She had taken it the first moment they had met, and he had let her get away. The only problem was that he didn't know if he wanted to recover what was his. For had she taken his heart or had he given it to her? Nate supposed he might find out in Rome.

After he changed into his pajamas and settled into bed, he fell into a deep sleep. He dreamed of a brunette siren singing in the ocean. She had Sophie's face and her voice.

"Come recover what's yours!" she called out to him.

"I can't!" he screamed hoarsely. "It became yours the moment I met you!" When he woke up to make his flight to Rome, all he could remember from his dream was the smell of vanilla and roses.

*French for "Until next time!"