Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Leverage or anything else related to the show.
A/N: This is first chapter is Nate's perspective. I'll leave it up to you to decide when exactly during The Maltese Falcon Job these thoughts occur. Please review.
I am in over my head. How had this happened? Why and how had I let things get to this point? It was mind-boggling. Looking at the picture Sam had drawn what seemed like a lifetime ago, one word escapes from my mouth. "Sophie". I breath her name with a sadness that would have been heart-wrenching had anyone else been here to hear it. It feels as though it came from a place deep within me; it has been threatening to burst out for months. It is a mere whisper that has been repeating itself over and over in my soul since the moment she left.
My cell phone feels cold and heavy against my hand as I stare down at its buttons, millions of thoughts concerning her rushing through my brain. I go to my contacts and scroll down to her name. I can feel a smile begin to slowly spread across my lips as I remember when I had first met Sophie.
She had, of course, looked stunning; a picture of alluring beauty. I can see her clearly like a photograph or maybe a film in my mind. I see that short blue dress she wore. It's funny, but I never could decide exactly what shade of blue it was, but I loved the way the bodice clung tightly to her chest and how the skirt flared and swayed when she walked. When she turned it fanned out around her and rose up allowing me a better look at her tanned thighs. Her hair looked so soft, softer than it had any right to look, and for a moment I had the strangest desire to reach out and touch it with my hands. She had the front of her dark locks pulled back out of her face and soft tresses floated elegantly down to her shoulders and back in gentle waves. I had just barely caught the mischievous glint in her eye, the one I would come to know well, before she turned and ran off leaving me with a missing painting and a lot of paperwork.
Back then she had simply been an enchanting grifter who seemed to always slip through my fingers and those of the law. There was no denying the fact that from the moment I laid eyes on her, I found her attractive, but it wasn't until later that our bizarre relationship (if it could actually be categorized as one) began to develop into something more than that. And it took even longer for me to admit, to fully realize that whatever it was that existed (and still does exist) between Sophie and I was much more than attraction. Somewhere in the middle of chasing her, catching her, and losing her again, I discovered that she had taken up permanent residence in my head and much to my chagrin, my heart as well. The realization of that latter fact had hit me like a ton of bricks. In fact so did the first one.
The place she occupied was small to be sure; at least a first. I often tried to deny the feelings I had for her, knowing full well a relationship was impossible. It happened slowly, her invasion into my mind. It happened without my complete awareness, this growing and complicated relationship that we developed over the years. I can't even be sure where I was or what I was doing when it happened, when the realization of my true feelings for her first hit me, but I remember the feeling very clearly. It was like being woken up by a bucket of ice cold water. I became cognizant of the fact that despite whatever it was I was supposed to be doing, I was thinking about Sophie. After that day, the day I realized she was more than just an attractive thief to me, I found myself consciously thinking of her more often. I would wonder what brilliant heist she was cleverly planning, where she was planning to strike next, and if by chance she was thinking about me. I found myself hoping that her next caper would bring her into contact with me. Yet, at the same time, I was afraid of what might happen if it did.
These thoughts of Sophie would often pop up out of the blue, floating in and out of my mind like a whispering breeze. She might scurry into my thoughts when I was sharing a drink with that weasel Sterling; listening to him brag in that obnoxious way of his about his latest and greatest successes. Sterling never talked about his failures and I was never sure if it was because he never failed or because he covered the failures up. One day she made her may into my brain when I happened in a meeting with Blackpoole. The pompous bore was briefing me on some new client he had signed and I suddenly realized, much to my annoyance, that I had only half been listening due to the fact that I was thinking about the lunch Sophie and I had shared a month ago. We both happened to be in Budapest and for once, it wasn't for the same reason. I didn't even know she was in the same country as I was, until I found her note in my hotel room. It was the fifth note she had written to me, but this one was different. It was still flirtatious and rather annoying, but there was something about it that felt more personal.
Back in the meeting with Blackpoole, I shook my head in an attempt to throw thoughts of her from it. I tried to concentrate on his words. Only as I watched him lean against his desk, I found myself imagining the way Sophie would have looked dressed in a business skirt and jacket sitting on the desk in front of me. It was frustrating, I wasn't supposed to and should not be thinking of her. Yet in some ways I didn't want these thoughts to stop. And they didn't.
I would also think about Sophie when I was on a case in which she wasn't even involved. I would wonder if she would have done it differently, would have done it better. Even worse than thinking about Sophie at work, was the times she would show up in my mind while I was with Maggie. These moments happened rarely, but that was still more often than I would have liked. When Maggie and I were talking about some piece of art she was examining or that I was trying to recover, Sophie would come across my mind. I would wondered what her opinion on the work of art might be. Once, when we took Sam to the park to play and the sunlight reflected off of Maggie's blonde hair, I would remember how the sunlight looked in Paris bouncing off Sophie's dark tresses. There were even times, only once or twice, when Maggie and I were out on a "date night". It may have been when we were sitting in a darkened movie theater, eating and dancing at some sophisticated restaurant, or just eating pizza and drinking beer at one of our favorite dives; Sophie Devereaux would somehow managed infiltrate her way into my mind.
I always felt guilty about those thoughts; I hate myself for them just as much now as I did then. I can remember right after Maggie and I split, when it was okay for me to think about Sophie, I still felt that it was wrong. Maybe it was because she was a thief and I was the "honest man". Once we started to work together, I started to think about Sophie even more often than before. It was only natural, we spend a lot of time together working on jobs. If I am honest with myself though, I think about Sophie a lot more than I do any of the others. It took some time for me to come to terms with the idea that it was acceptable and even natural that I think about her now. It is giving those thoughts and feelings a name that I really struggle with.
After Sam died, I felt as if I part of me had died along with him, as though there was a hole in my heart. For a long time after that, I had felt lost, like the Nathan Ford I had always been had faded, become blurry and almost undistinguishable as a man. I remember how Sophie had once told me that I was not the same man she knew before. She had been right. Nate Ford, insurance investigator, had been swallowed up by this new identity, this new man. It was that last part that was particularly important. I have a clearly defined identity again, at least I do when she is here to help keep me in line and help me to not stray too far from the path, to help me recognize which way was up. Sophie, and the rest of the team too, have helped to fill in the parts of me that had been eroded by the pain. They can never take the place of Sam, no one ever possibly could. When he was born, maybe even before that when Maggie told me she was pregnant, Sam became my purpose in life. When he died, so did my reason for everything. These crusades, as she had once referred to them, give me purpose again. But that purpose isn't as clear without her.
She was always reminding me of who I could be. She seems to think that I could be better than what I actually am. Maybe she is right. She knows me...better than anyone else. I can't be that man without Sophie though.
I know what she wants from me. I know why she hasn't come back yet. The answer is perfectly simple and yet very complicated, something she very well knows. She is waiting for a reason. Back in L.A. she told we that she would not ever abandon me as long as I gave her a reason to stay. All she wants is a reason to return. A reason that comes from me.
There it was, a simple fact; I need her. I know now that I can admit it to myself and that is half the battle. All that is left to do is to tell her. I had meant what I said about two years ago. I am a better man for knowing her. And I cannot ever return to a life without her in it; it is impossible. No, Sophie Devereaux has somehow wriggled her way so deeply into my life, into my heart that I am not sure I can function properly without her. I would call her my soul mate, that is if I was naive enough to believe in such things. I am not sure I can actually give a name to the unusual relationship that exists between Sophie and I. Because no matter what, she will always be in my thoughts and in my heart. I have to hope that telling her that much will be enough.