"It woulda been Sam's birthday."
Eliot's pride at besting the grifter faded as soon as it had appeared. This fiercely protective force of nature before him could not stop crying. She was devastated.
"Sophie, I'm sorry – I shouldn't've… are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Of course. Hormones. I'm fine." She hastily worked to catch her breath as she shooed away still-falling tears.
"I get it, alright? I get it." Eliot said the only thing he could to appease her. "And I won't say anything to Nate as long as you talk to me, okay? Keep me in the loop. If you're looking out for him, someone's gotta be looking out for you."
He wanted to comfort her, but she still refused to take his hand. With a breath, he reached forward and tentatively placed a hand on her stomach. Unlike Parker, Eliot had not taken to the idea of invading Sophie's personal space simply because she was pregnant. He had felt the baby kick once, but other than that had kept a safe distance. The gesture seemed to calm Sophie, though, and he eased into it as he continued,
"Five minutes – when the contractions reach five minutes apart we're going to the hospital no matter what, understood?"
"Four minutes," Sophie challenged, gently folding her hands atop that of their team's protector.
"Six minutes, Sophie don't play with me."
"Four." She smiled and Eliot found himself breathing easier at the sight of her teeth.
"Fine. Four. Or if your water breaks!" He pointed a finger at her, catching the glossed over issue. She chuckled, wiping away the remaining few tears. "What? I read stuff too."
"Deal." She stuck out her hand. Eliot took it and paused –
"And you tell me if you need anything at all, you hear me?"
"Enough rules, already!" She saw the expression in his eyes. "Yes, Eliot. I promise."
"Atta girl." They shook hands, both smiling. As if on cue they heard the padding of socked feat on the stairwell. In an effort to act normal, their body language achieved the opposite.
"Has our bathroom always been that tiny?" Nate slurred slightly at Sophie. He took a step past the couch, then looked back at them as they clammed up. "Everything alright?" Nate asked, his brain half on the question and half swimming with scotch.
"Of course!" Sophie's too-cheerful tone was more addled with post-crying breathiness than she anticipated. Nate backtracked to the couch, a hand darting to his wife's shoulder as he sloppily knealt-collapsed behind her.
"What's wrong, Soph?" He asked; his voice suddenly quiet and eyes focused on her.
"Hormones, darling. Nothing more. Eliot was just cheering me up."
"You sure?"
"Oh yeah, had ourselves a little laugh, 'sall good." Eliot chimed in, wondered why Sophie couldn't feel the adoration filled way Nate looked at her.
"I'm glad." Nate then answered Eliot's unspoken question by returning to his seat by the window. It wasn't hard to see the agony in the way Sophie's eyes followed him.
Eliot looked at his watch – 3:36pm. This was about to be one hell of a long day.
As the day-that-wouldn't-end wore on, Sophie kept as quiet as possible, and Eliot became more and more exasperated with the futility of their agreement as he watched the contractions grow longer and closer together. Nate wasn't heard from again until just after 8.
"Hey, Eliot, though you said you were making birds or… wings and stuff for dinner?"
Eliot's attention was slowly pulled away from the nail marks Sophie was leaving on a throw pillow.
"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll get right on that." He never forgot to make dinner. Ever.
"Please, do make him eat something."
"You've eaten nothing all day, if I recall." Eliot hissed as he walked by her.
"I can't eat, darling, I'm in labor, remember?" She taunted quietly.
"Yes, that's – I know – god woman, you are infuriating!" Eliot's face reddened as he walked to the kitchen. The sound of slamming doors followed. He promptly returned and placed his mouth by Sophie's ear. "6 minutes and counting… you witch." And back into the kitchen he went.
Just after the three of them had sat down to dinner, Sophie hastily excused herself to the bathroom, and made her way down the hall. Eliot got up to 'get more wings' and saw she didn't make it to her alleged destination. This contraction had snuck up on her, and Sophie had ducked into the pantry to grab onto a shelf before the throbbing won out against her. She saw him come in as the pain began to crescendo;
"I'm fine. Shut up."
"That must be the hormones talking, because you are not fine!" Despite his frustration, he kept his voice hushed and held her hand.
"Bugger off!"
"Do you know how pissed he's gonna be when he finds out you've been workin' through this on your own?"
"Let him be pissed, I don't give a –" She tucked her head to her chest as the pain swelled. "Fuck!"
"Woah there. Okay, I got you." Eliot pressed his palm into her back. Against her will, Sophie was immediately grateful Eliot had followed her from the dining room. The pain droned on and drew a whimper from the usually marble-strong art thief. "Jesus Sophie,"
"I should never have taught you to read people," She defended aimlessly, "This is none of your damn business."
He could understand her inner agony to a point, but she had clearly lost her mind. Eliot was beside himself, he was rarely this frustrated without being able to hit something.
"Oh, okay, my bad." Sarcasm felt like the next best thing to a punch, "I'll just go back to dinner and let you give birth by yourself in the closet!"
"That would be GREAT, thank you." She shot back.
"I'm getting Nate."
"Eliot, we agreed 4 minutes; that's light-years away."
"Sophie, your logic is fucked – you should be at the hospital between 5 and 10 minutes apart – you're barely at four and a half!"
"It's 9pm, if I can just hold on a little longer, I won't –"
"You can't 'hold on' Sophie!" He straightened himself up against the grifter, his tone rising with each word. "Get it together, woman! The timing has nothing to do with you. This baby clearly wants to be born today and there isn't a damn thing in hell you can do about it!"
"Piss off, you arrogant prick!" She screamed, leaving their hushed tone nowhere to be found.
"That's great, that's real good – yelling will definitely help you out right now."
"Maybe it will!" She shrieked impetuously.
With that, Nate appeared in the doorway to the pantry, speaking slowly, his eyes wide.
"What the hell is going on in here?"
A pregnant pause. Neither one could find their tongue.
Noticing Eliot was still holding onto her, Sophie made a reckless attempt; "Eliot made a pass at me. And when I turned him down, he threatened me."
Eliot rolled his eyes and ignored all previous clandestine intentions, "You think that's gonna make him less angry?"
"Less angry at me, yes!" She shouted without thinking.
Nate was thoroughly confused, and though he attributed some of that to his beverage of choice for the day, he knew this moment was not one of a physical proposition.
"What are you two talking about?" He asked incredulously as he reached for Sophie's arm. Eliot stepped back to allow him space for the impending confrontation.
Nate looked into the eyes of his expectant wife; was that pain he saw? Fear? He knew he had kept to himself today, but they had talked about that… if she needed him, why didn't she… What could he have done to make her look at him that way? His voice turned gentle, heavy with concern. "Sophie, why would I possibly be angry at you?"
Sophie cursed the universe and everything in it as she felt the start of a severe contraction at her core; moments away from destroying the tenderness in her husband's eyes and, if her fear was correct, her marriage right along with it. She ignored the fresh beads of sweat forming on her brow, she pushed away the feeling of lightheadedness that overtook her, she fought the new tears already assaulting her face full force. All she could think was 'no, not today' as she weakly stumbled towards the door. Nate wrapped an arm around her waist. "I have to go – please – don't – " Too late. The contraction ripped through her like chainsaw; the stabbing radiated from her back through her stomach and down to her legs which immediately gave out beneath her. A deep grunt escaped her lips; she instinctively clutched at her husband.
Nate's shock at the situation froze him for a moment. Eliot landed beside the pair in an instant and helped to hold Sophie upright.
"Sophie – " The word fell from Nate's lips as he began to understand what must be happening.
"Breathe, damnit," Eliot demanded of his friend. "We talked about this!"
As she took a breath, Nate felt Sophie's body begin to dissolve into sobs around him.
"I'm sorry Nate," she cried into his shoulder, much to Nate's disbelief "I'm so sorry."
"Sophie, sweetheart," he tried to talk to her, his incredulity growing with each word. Feeling her chest unevenly heaving against his own, he hugged her closer. "Breathe, Love… in and out; just like that… there you go. There you go." The two men carefully lowered Sophie to the floor. Eliot sat beside her, and Nate knelt before her, tears of his own obscuring his vision as he tried to catch those falling on her cheek. "Oh Sophie, it's alright. It's okay, Soph."
"Nate?" Her voice was small and full of dread.
"Yes, love?"
"We have to go to the hospital." She wept, holding on to his hand for dear life. Nate just smiled at the adorable obviousness of her remark.
"Yeah, I think we do," he smiled, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.
"But today, I didn't want you to – "
"Shhh, shhh, today's not about me, Soph. Not at all. I'm a complete ass."
"No, you didn't… it's not fair."
"Few things are, Sophie." Nate beamed down at her. "Why didn't you say something?"
"I… " And as she trailed off, he knew.
"I am so sorry, Sophie. I never wanted you to… I'm sorry."
"I didn't want you to have to – and today - "
"Well unfortunately this isn't really your call, love." He folded his fingers around the back of her neck.
"I don't like things being out of my control," She confessed simply.
"Me either, Soph." He leaned in and planted a sturdy kiss between her eyes. "But we're together. We can do anything, okay?" He let his forehead press into hers. "Hell, we already have."
"Okay."
"Good." He squeezed her hand and she squeezed his back. "Now let's get you up and out the door, shall we? Bag and pillow are in the hall closet, need coats…" He paused as he stood up, "and Eliot, you're gonna have to drive." Nate added with one hand on his forehead, trying to steady the still spinning room around him.
"I cannot believe you're smashed for this," His wife remarked with a half chuckle. Sophie Devereaux was regaining strength.
"I kind of hate myself right now," Nate agreed, knowing he would have to deal with all those nasty dark feelings of guilt, devastation, anger and sorrow later, but at the moment; "but I love you."
The men helped Sophie up, out the door and into the car. After they closed the door behind her, Nate turned to Eliot, his breath visible in the cold.
"Thanks… for keeping her safe."
"'s what I do." He said simply. "She's stubborn as hell, though. Didn't listen to me for a minute."
"Really? Hadn't noticed." Nate's grin was short lived as he heard an agonized groan fill the car. As he hopped around to the other side door, he looked briefly at the stars, "Here we go."
