Disclaimer: Leverage is not mine, I'm just admiring. Enjoy and review!
It was just another day at Leverage HQ, Portland edition. The thief, the hacker, the hitter and the mastermind sat around the table, mid briefing at about half their normal volume. The fifth member of their team was asleep upstairs and whoever woke her up had to buy the rest of the team dinner; Nate was sure that would keep them quiet. Despite their very best efforts, however, they heard footsteps above their heads before long. Nathan Ford let out a completely audible sigh. Parker giggled, Alec Hardison joined in, but off a look from Nate, Eliot Spencer punched him and the laughing subsided briefly. The footsteps same closer, then slowly started down the stairs. Nate sighed again, hardly able to imagine what sort of new hell was about to rain down on him.
Enter Sophie Devereaux; 36 weeks pregnant and beaming with mischief. She knew full well she was supposed to be in bed – her husband had practically begged her to stay there. It was sweet, she thought, except that they were working on a con. She loved being pregnant, and was surprised, though thrilled, to have created a small little person with the love of her life, and she would gladly concede to that love's request to stay in bed once the job was done. Sophie had never sat a con out before and she'd be damned if she was going to start now. She was very near to embarking on several con-less years of her life, why start early? As she reached the bottom of the steps and he was sure she wasn't turning around, Nate hung his head in failure.
"Bed rest, Sophie. It's such a simple concept."
"You put me on bed rest so you wouldn't have to deal with me. Dr. Spencer here does not think it is medically necessary." She snaked her arm through Eliot's.
"Dr. Spencer is a) not a real doctor, more of a midwife -" Eliot was not a fan of that title.
"Watch it, man."
"And b) he is taking orders from me."
"Orders! So romantic, Mr. Ford." Sophie mocked, her hand on her hip.
"It is romantic!"
"Have you been listening, Parker?"
"Yeah! He cares about you so much that his brain is completely fried!"
"That's what you want in romance?" Hardison was in disbelief. "I love you plenty, but I'm keeping my brain."
"We'll see what happens when we start popping out babies."Parker tapped his arm.
"Oo!" Sophie's eyebrows shot up.
"Not – not just yet." Hardison squashed the peanut gallery.
"Jeeze, one at a time for cryin' out loud." Eliot yanked his arm out of Sophie's grasp.
"What, we're not friends anymore?"
"Hormones." Nate mumbled.
"I heard that and I swear I will shoot you."
"My mistake. No hormones at all." Nate chided, hands up in false surrender. Sophie growled.
"Sophie…It's just…" Eliot trailed off.
"Just what?" She snapped.
"I've spent way too much time looking at…parts of you that aren't your face. So no, we can't really be friends right now." He stared straight ahead.
"Eliot, I'm hurt."
"I can be your doctor," he shot a deliberate look at Nate, "or your friend. Not both."
"We're still your friends" Hardison added, noting that the grifter looked about ready to cry. Parker chimed in to help.
"Yeah, we have to be!" She shrugged, "I've never even seen your –"
"That's enough talk about my wife's vagina!" Nathan Ford was astonished at his own sentence. "See what you did, Soph? You got up, and we're now having a group discussion about – please go back to bed." Reaching new levels of defeat, Nate slowly banged his head into the wall before returning, with great force, to next week's con.
The team did their best to refocus from what had been a line-crossing conversation. Sophie pouted and made her way into the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and finding nothing of appeal. Nate winced as she open and slammed every single cabinet in the house. He knew she was imagining various limbs of his caught in the smashing doors. Settling on a bag of chips, Sophie made her way back to the briefing.
"So what's my part?" Sophie, who was very much the opposite of in bed, asked with feigned innocence.
Nate eyed his heavily pregnant wife with exasperation. If she insisted on ignoring his wishes, he could do the same.
"Nate, I asked you a question." She pressed, a note of warning in her voice.
"You don't have a part." Nate shot her a counterfeit smile and moved on. He returned to explaining how Betty Larson, their mark, kept all the files on people whom she had fired and subsequently collected their pensions, on a server in the penthouse of Scholasticar's corporate headquarters. "Parker will get the files onto a zip drive; Hardison will disable the security system."
"But Larson checks the server room herself every hour. How are we supposed to distract her?" Hardison challenged.
"Eliot, that's where you come in."
"Okay, but I gotta take out the six guards along Parker's escape route first."
"Well, then I can –"
"Sounds like you could use one more." Sophie triumphantly interrupted Nate.
"Well…" Nate trailed off, "But actually…if we…"
The room was silent, save for the sound of Sophie licking potato chip crumbs off her fingers. They needed her. They all looked to Nate. Nate tossed the remote onto the table, got up, and promptly poured himself a drink.
"Looks like I'm in." The grifter grinned.
