Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage nor am I associated with Dean Devlin, Timothy Hutton or Gina Bellman.
A/N: Partially, in a roundabout sort of way, inspired by Morralls.

Blame

Nate Ford, insurance investigator, had been sitting at the dark end of the bar most of the night, nursing a drink, just watching her. She was as beautiful as in his mind, though it had been over a year since he had seen her and the memories were blurred on the edges, a soft focus on her face. He glanced at the clock, feeling sick. They had a deal, an unspoken deal, albeit, but a deal. And he was about to shatter it in a million tiny fragments, the kind of glass that looks like harmless dust but cuts sharper and more painfully than anything else. Nate heaved a sigh, his heart like lead in his chest. Standing, he pushed his glass away and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket.

She was laughing, smiling at a tall, dark-haired man in a dress shirt and tie, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Nate stepped between them, hooking one cuff around her slim wrist. "Hi Sophie." His voice was as heavy and tired as his heart and it cracked just the same.

Sophie jumped, eyes wide. "Nate!" she exclaimed softly, genuinely surprised to see him. If she hadn't noticed him in the bar already, he had either just arrived or had been very intent on not being noticed. "What are you doing here?"

Nate pulled her wrist up with one finger through the empty cuff. "Arresting you." At the annoyed look he was getting from the bartender, he pulled a folded warrant from the inside pocket of his jacket, setting it on the bar. "I'm sorry, Soph." They were starting to attract attention and Nate raised his eyebrows at the bartender who shrugged, handing back the paper.

Nate tucked it in his pocket, snapping the cuff around her other wrist. He quickly dragged her out of her chair and outside, trying desperately to ignore her protests.

"Nate, what is this?" Sophie demanded. Never had he pulled this kind of stunt; Nate had more class than a surprise ambush, especially in a dump like this. It wasn't exactly their kind of place.

"I'm sorry, Sophie, but you're just going to have to deal with me actually doing my job," he said sharply, opening the car door.

Sophie jerked on the cuffs, forcing him to look at her. "What's going on?"

"It's none of your damn business!" Nate half-shouted, but leaned against the door as though he might fall over otherwise. With a shaky sigh, he told her quietly, "Sammy's sick."

"Sick? Nate, I don-"

"He has cancer."

Sophie stopped struggling instantly, dropping her hands, his still caught around the chain between them. "Oh my god. Nate…" She stepped forward, wanting to comfort him, wanting to be there for him, but not sure if he would let her.

Nate let out an angry, tear-filled breath, looking away. When he met her eyes again, he found the same soft look in them that had been there when he left them. Choking, he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. "I'm so sorry, Sophie; we need the money. There's a bonus on you, because I've let you go so many times the board thinks you're untraceable," he joked weakly.

"Oh, honey, it'll be okay," she whispered against his ear, "You can take me in; I won't be any trouble." Pulling away to look at him, her eyes narrowed, she asked, "You still get the bonus if I get away after you bring me in, right?"

Nate sniffed, laughing. "Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry," he apologized again.

"It's okay. I understand." Sophie leaned up to kiss his cheek but he turned his head, not so much capturing her lips in his as offering. Her gaze flickered to his eyes, to be sure, but saw nothing but pain and a raw sort of need. Softly, she kissed him, bringing her hands up to his face as best she could, her fingers just brushing his jaw. Sophie forced herself to pull away, not wanting him to let her in just because he was feeling vulnerable and needed a woman's touch, any woman's touch. Nate had denied her too long to simply decide to want this now. Logic, it seemed, had forgotten her and she was running on survival mode. Ducking her head, she climbed inside the car, expertly blinking away the tears collecting in her eyes as Nate slowly shut the door.

It was the beginning of the end. A chance for a new beginning, or, if not a chance, the tiniest promise for one at some point. But, more importantly, the end of a man, the man Sophie had loved from a distance for so many years, ruined by cruel fate.

Sophie always wondered if she hadn't kissed him that night if things might have turned out differently. Maybe he wouldn't have gone out drinking after he finished her paperwork. Maybe he wouldn't have decided it helped. Maybe if he hadn't started drinking, he would have dealt with Sam's death better. It just went on and on.

It was irrational. It was ridiculous. But she couldn't help feeling the blame.