Playing the Part
Summary: Nate admits the truth about Sophie's acting.
Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage or any of its characters.
...
"Well Nate, what did you think?"
"What?"
"Of my performance. Didn't you see it?"
"Oh… yeah-yeah it was great." Normally Nate would have elaborated with other undeserved compliments, but in fact, he had never gone. He had a massive headache the previous day and leaving the comfort of his couch to see her perform had not seemed like the best idea of a cure.
Her eyes narrowed. She called his bluff. "You didn't did you? You missed it."
He sighed. "I had a headache."
"You mean a hangover."
He held his hand up. "Sophie, please. Just-"
She cut him off with an exasperated moan. "I can't believe it. I've been excited about this play for weeks, and then you miss my opening night!"
Nate rolled his eyes. "I think you and I both know that you're just up there making a fool of yourself. All the wailing and the singing- it hurts my ears and frankly-" He stopped abruptly as the gravity of his outburst made itself clear in the contours of her face. Somewhere in the background he could hear Elliot mumbling something. The air became heavy.
Parker turned to Hardison and summed up what they were all thinking in one word:
"Ouch."
...
She sat in the corner of the room, legs crossed, face buried in a magazine. For a moment he fixed his gaze on her but she refused to make eye contact. She was so childish. They were in the middle of a job and here she was sulking. All because he'd finally manned up and admitted the truth about her onstage acting. "It was about time someone said something" he thought, taking a sip of alcohol from his glass and smiling ruefully. "She'll get over it."
At least that's what he'd thought. Two hours of silence later and things weren't looking so up. He glanced in her direction again and scanned his eyes over the cover of her magazine. "Fashion… Don't tell me she's looking to buy another pair of shoes…" He checked his watch. In about half an hour, he'd have to send her in to steal a renowned biologist. He was posing as the cab driver and wouldn't be able to talk to her face to face alone again until evening. Silently Nate weighed his options. If he was going to make things right between them he'd have to concede to her that he hadn't meant what he said, which would be a flat-out lie of course. The whole team knew that Sophie Deveraux could not, in the general manner of speaking, act. On the other hand, leaving the issue unresolved could result in several hours of subtle jabs at him over the earpiece, possibly from her and-
"Hey Nate, is Sophie still there?" Parker's voice chimed in his ear.
He sighed. "Focus Parker."
"I'm surprised she didn't just walk right out after what you said." Hardison remarked accusingly.
Elliot put in his two cents: " Seriously man, what were you thinking? You know how she is about acting. She's… well-"
"Horrible." Parker hissed.
Nate interjected before they could continue berating him any further. "Hey guys, guys, calm down. She's just going through a phase. We were all thinking it- I just had the guts to finally come out and say it. Give her a little time, she'll come arou-"
There was a soft flutter of pages as she tossed the magazine on the floor. Then, shooting
him a reproachful look, Sophie got up and left the room. He heard a soft click as she closed the door. He fell silent for a few seconds. And then: "Okay well… maybe I'll talk to her."
"You do that," Hardison replied stiffly, "meanwhile I'll sit here and try to hack the most advanced security system known to mankind. Did you know that- "
Nate plucked the tiny mike from his ear and placed it in his pocket. As difficult as Hardison made the task sound, he knew it would only take him a matter of minutes. After that there would be no need to provoke any further action until Sophie was in place. Following her path out the door Nate found her standing in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing her hair in a style that would become a naturalist researcher. Leaning against the open door, he studied her face. She pretended not to notice him, but her expression tightened a little from the pressure of his gaze. "Is there something you want?" she asked.
He spoke slowly and carefully. "You… are not a good actress."
She scoffed. "No, but I am a good liar. Is that what you were going to say?" She put a hairpin between her teeth and swept her brown locks into a bun. Fixing it in place, she paused abruptly when his hand brushed her shoulder. Nate never touched her, not unless it was for the sake of some con. Ever since Leverage had been formed, there had been only one exception to that rule…
"Sorry," he said lamely, "piece of lint."
Sophie felt her anticipation drop like a bag of rocks in an empty bucket.
He watched the reflection in the mirror scowl and shake its head. "You know Nate," she said, "I've always known that I can't act. Even though you guys tried so hard to hide how you feel up until now, I could tell… And I knew what it was that I was asking for… after every show… Every bloody musical… I just… I wanted someone to tell me that I was good. And now, even you…" Gesturing back and forth with her hands, she trailed off into an awkward silence and fell still.
Nate let out a small chuckle. "Sophie," he said, "you are good. You're the best. Think about it. You've helped people in ways no actress could even dream of. You have a gift, granted maybe not necessarily the one you wanted, but it's a gift nonetheless and…" His eyes met with those of her reflection. "…right now I think you're making the best use of it that you can."
"Is that an apology?"
"Well…" he said hesitantly, "i-in a manner of speaking…I guess…"
A small smile passed over her lips. Pulling back from the sink counter, she turned in his direction. He caught the scent of her perfume as she leaned into him, tilting his chin to one side so she could kiss his cheek. Part of him wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her there, but his hands remained at his sides, weighing him down like blocks of lead. Nate wondered vaguely if there would ever be a time when they would be on the same page again.
"Sophie," he murmured, "We should go."
Drawing her lips away from his cheek, she gave him a significant look and reached over his shoulder to switch off the lights. He exhaled slowly and took a step back, allowing her to brush past him, so he could close the door. As they walked down the hall, he noticed a subtle drop in her expression, either due to his previous insult or the fact that he had so bluntly put an end to her advances.
"I'll see it tomorrow," he blurted suddenly.
"What?"
"I'll see the play."
She smiled grimly. "You can't. It's been canceled. Apparently you weren't the only one who thought I was up there just to embarrass myself."
"It's not that," he protested, "that's just not your stage."
Nate paused a moment to open the front door. A waft of cold air drifted in, tangling his hair ever so gently. Looking back at her, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to finish his thought. "Your stage isn't in a theater," he repeated, "it's here, in this con, with…" He swallowed and forced the words out: "With me."