AN: What's that, Poesie? Two new chapters less than 12 hours apart? That's like...a miracle! Okay, sarcasm aside, I thought I might as well, since I have them all written up. Enjoy!

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Sophie

"Uh, Nate?" Eliot whispers. "Can I talk to you?"

In front of them, Sophie is coaching Lindsey on the basics of grifting.

Nate tears his gaze away from the spectacle that is Lindsey McDonald. "Hmm? Uh, yeah?"

"This isn't going to work," Eliot sighs. "He's really, really bad at acting. Like Parker bad. Only she's probably better at it now than he is. Think Sophie on the stage bad."

"Yeah, I can see that," Nate says quietly, looking over at Sophie, who is (almost) calmly trying to teach a frustrated Lindsey how to act like someone else.

"I've done this before!" Lindsey shouts, tugging his hair in exasperation. "I can do it!"

"Then show me!" Sophie exclaims, with a wide, carefully-calculated, expressive sweep of her arm.

"No, I mean it," Eliot insists. "He can fool people, but only if they're really stupid. I mean, if you tell him he has to act. You gotta say it another way. Like 'convince' or 'bribe.' Give him a reason."

"Hm." Nate cogitates for a few minutes, watching Lindsey carefully.

"No, you're too tense," Sophie says, putting her hands on her student's shoulders and sliding them down his arms in a quick, brisk motion. "Relax! Here, shake out your arms like this!" She demonstrates. "And brrrrrrr. Brrrrrrr with me, Lindsey."

Lindsey sighs and follows her example somewhat less enthusiastically. "Br." He sighs and catches Eliot's eyes. Help?

Eliot snorts. Nope, sorry Linds.

Nate leans over and says thoughtfully, "Eliot, I have a job for you."

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Fifteen minutes ago, Eliot had run over to them and whined, "Sophie, I'm boooored. Can Lindsey take me to get ice cream? Pleeeeeease?"

He'd pasted on the overly-sweet puppy-eyed expression that he knew only worked on Lindsey (and sometimes Hardison) and tugged on their hands like, well, a little kid, so she'd known that he was up to something, and after a quick glance at Nate, that it was under his orders.

"Well," she'd said, playing along.

"Y'know, I could use a break. You probably could, too," Lindsey had said, a tad desperately, not even noticing the fact that Eliot was in con mode. "Half an hour?"

"Half an hour," she'd agreed in her teacher voice. "Not one minute more, alright?"

"Fine. Great," Lindsey had said, and hustled Eliot out the door.

"What are you up to, Nate?" she'd asked once the McDonalds were clear.

"Wait and see," he'd replied, picking up a remote.

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Now, they stand in front of the office's six television screens and watch the footage streaming live from the button cam attached to the front of Eliot's beanie.

"He's actually not half bad," Sophie says, head tilted, critiquing.

"Hm," grunts Nate, satisfied. "Eliot gave me the idea."

Sophie casts a curious look at him. "Yeah?"

He nods. "He told me you have to say it differently and give him a reason."

Sophie huffs, amused. "You mean all I had to say to get Lindsey to act was, 'I betcha you can't'?"

Nate chuckles. "Looks like."