A/N: Kind of speed-posting this, apologies for any errors!

There was no casket, of course; no body to go in it. There was just a small, private gathering in the cemetery where Nate's mother had been buried, with a modest headstone and Nate's old friend Father Paul performing the service.

It was later, at McRory's Bar, that Jimmy Ford had his real final send-off.

The wake was in full swing, with felons and law enforcement and clergy rubbing elbows paying testament to the life Nate's father had led.

Nate seemed to be coping well - according to Sophie, who kept an eye on his movements as he paid his dues, talking to people and thanking them for coming. It was an effort for him, all of this, but she suspected that, for Nate, the point was he was making the effort.

Sophie had spent most of her time so far with Parker, who didn't always do well with things like death and grieving, raising the potential for inappropriate comments and questions at awkward moments. Sometimes Sophie forgot how far Parker had come since she'd first met her; the young woman was mostly just worried whether Nate was all right.

"Last time we did this waking thing, we pulled off the Wire con in like twenty minutes. It was really fun," Parker was saying.

Sophie remembered hearing about that particular job after the fact, first from Tara, who'd been bragging about it, then from Eliot, who'd called to tell her that Nate had started drinking again.

Parker continued, "Do you think we should find some mob guys to scam? Nate would enjoy that."

"Um, maybe not, Parker."

"Ooh! What if we invite Sterling over, and Eliot can beat him up? Nate loves that!"

"Bit impractical, Sterling's in Europe."

Parker deflated, slumping in her seat. Her face twisted in thought. "Well what about, like, a hug. Does Nate need a hug? People like hugs when they're sad, right?"

Sophie opened her mouth to shoot down this idea, too, but then said, "Yes, they do. You should go try it."

Nate was in the process of crossing the room when he was stopped in his tracks by the full force of Parker throwing her arms around him and squeezing. Nate, extremely alarmed by this, and never one to be comfortable with casual affection, looked horrified down at the young woman clinging to him, before patting her awkwardly on the head and gingerly pushing her away. A Sophie watched, Parker said something to him - she could only imagine what - and then skipped away, at which point Nate looked up and caught her observing. He raised his eyebrows at her as if to say, "Really?"

She gave him her best innocent face and shrugged.

He rolled his eyes and changed direction, heading over to the bar and taking a seat on one of the stools.

Sophie rose from her seat at one of the tables and moved to join him.

"That was your doing, I take it," he said, as she slid onto the empty stool beside him.

"It was her idea, she wanted to help you feel better. I just... enjoyed it."

"Hmm."

Without prompting, Cora appeared and slid a glass in front of Sophie, pouring from the bottle sitting by Nate's elbow. She thanked the young woman, who just smiled and went to attend to something else down the other end of the bar.

Sophie watched Nate twist his glass back and forth between his hands. She had been observing Nate's habit for too many years now not to have noticed how he'd been nursing the few drinks he'd had tonight.

"If ever there was a night for it," Sophie said, lifting her glass for a sip.

"Tonight, if I get going I might not stop, so..." He shrugged. "I don't want to get slammed at my father's wake. Tacky."

"You're Irish, that's not tacky, that's expected."

He didn't respond, playing with the glass some more. He was thinking too much to take the same alcohol-fuelled, misty-eyed trip down memory lane more than a few of the other guests were currently taking.

She waited him out, knowing he would talk when he wanted to - and then only if he wanted to. Getting an unwilling Nate to share was a futile endeavour at the best of times. She'd certainly beat her head against that particular brick wall enough to know.

This Nate, pensive but not brooding, grieving but not bitter - the Nate she was seeing since he had turned his back on revenge days earlier - he wasn't so unwilling any more.

"I was just thinking," he began after they had sat there in companionable silence for a few minutes. "Thinking about fathers and sons. Sam would be a teenager now - a teenager, you know I can only ever see him as my little boy. And my dad, you know, he only saw Sam a few times when he was just a baby. Then Jimmy wound up in prison, and I didn't want to talk about him, so Sam never even knew about his grandfather. And my dad, my dad was behind bars and couldn't even attend his own grandson's funeral. Now they're both gone and there's just me, and I..."

She hooked her arm through his, leaning into his side. "You're not alone."

"That's just it, I - Jimmy and I, we had a lot in common."

"Yeah, the whole stubborn pride thing."

He gave her a look, but then the hint of a smile showed up, which had been her intention. "Right. Thank you. No, I meant, we uh, he and I, we spent a lot of time convinced we didn't need other people - no one, you know, close. That's why my mother kicked him out. That's why Maggie gave up on me." He sighed, and finally lifted his glass and slowly swallowed the amber liquid before continuing. "My own father never really knew me. He didn't know who I've become - he didn't know you. It's all..." He shrugged. "Sad. Lost chances."

"Those are the worst kind."

"Course, you know, my father was a real bastard, and he could have lived another thirty years and he still wouldn't have been able to see clear past his own ego enough to actually, you know, relate to me. So there's that."

"Fathers and sons," Sophie murmured.

"Yeah."

"You don't even want to know about my father." She said it in commiseration, no more than a joke, but after a brief pause he turned to her.

"Yes, I do."

"What? No, I just meant..."

"Yeah, I know." He grasped her hand with his. "I do want to know, though. I know you don't talk about your past, I know you have your reasons - you're so used to... to protecting yourself, and who you were, and you want to focus on who you are now. But listen, if you ever do want to tell me - anything - then I want to hear it, okay?"

She didn't answer straight away, not having expected such a speech. He was a perceptive bastard when he wanted to be, even now.

Half a smile played at her lips as she thought about it; thought about telling Nate all the things she never thought she would tell anyone. "Well, maybe another time."

"Yeah."

"Tonight?" She lifted her glass. "Is about your father, who loved you, for all his flaws. To Jimmy."

He touched his glass to hers and they drank.

Sophie put down her empty glass and slid off the stool, touching Nate's shoulder in parting. "I'll see you later, all right?"

He caught her arm. "Where you going?"

"People want to talk to you - pay their respects."

"They can come." He held her wrist until she settled back beside him, and then his hand slid down to lace his fingers with hers; a wordless request for her to stay. "People around here are used to seeing me with you, you know."

"Oh, you'd better watch out, then. I think that makes us an item."

Nate just smiled and poured her another drink.

They didn't stay late; the wake was still going strong with a host of the old neighbourhood boys swapping stories when Nate made the rounds to say good night.

She met Eliot's eye on their way out, letting him know with a look that she was taking Nate home. He acknowledged the look with a tip of his chin from his watchful position over in the corner. She knew he intended to stay and help Cora keep an eye on things until the last stragglers departed.

Outside, she and Nate stood for a moment on the footpath, taking in the night air and the relative quiet after the steady drone of conversation inside.

"Where are you parked?" Nate said eventually, looking up and down the street.

"We should probably find a taxi. You complain about my driving at the best of times - I think I drank one too many toasts tonight."

"I like the way you drive. Fear, uncertainty, the possibility of sudden death - they really keep you on your toes."

She smacked his shoulder, rolling her eyes as he laughed.

After a moment she became hesitant. "Listen, um, are you... coming home with me? Unless - I can drop you over at the hotel, if you want to be alone tonight."

Nate and Hardison had been settled in a nearby hotel for the past few days, having of course already cleared out of their previous address. Nate had spent the time focused on arranging the funeral and wake, and looking into his father's affairs - such that they were. Sophie and the others, meanwhile, had been making plans to move across the country.

They'd all been busy, and she knew Nate was tired.

But he answered her question with a simple, "No. No, I don't want to be alone."

"All right." She turned back to the street, keeping an eye out for a taxi.

"You know what? Come on, let's walk. It's a nice night."

She had no objection to that, willing to go along with whatever he wanted tonight. She let him take her arm, sliding her hand down to fit into his as they turned and set off.

As they walked along in no particular hurry, he talked about the neighbourhood, what he remembered from his youth, how things had changed. He was saying goodbye, she realised, to more than his father tonight.

"You okay?" he asked her at one point, squeezing her hand as they stood waiting for a crosswalk signal. "You're quiet."

She had been, mostly just listening to his stories. She smiled at him. "Yeah, I am, are you?"

He looked down and nodded. "Yeah - yes. I'm okay. I mean, I'll be okay. Thanks, though," he looked up at her, his gaze stead on hers. "For... you know. For being here with me."

The lights changed then allowing them to cross, and interrupting the moment - she was almost glad for it.

This new Nate, the one who had no trouble asking for support, who reached out to her unprompted, she didn't know quite how to feel about it. He'd been through a lot, and though he spoke of big plans and changes, when it came to people, change didn't come overnight. Or at all. And they'd spent so many months now - make that years rather - carefully not defining their relationship.

But at the same time, she knew what she wanted, she always had. And she badly wanted to trust this new openness in him.

Because when he said he didn't want to be alone, it didn't sound like he just meant tonight.