The next morning, Sophie found herself making her way to the dining room alone. Nate had chosen to sleep in and there had been no answer from Eliot, Parker or Hardison's rooms. While she enjoyed the company of her teammates, sometimes a little alone time was pleasant. With Nate there was always that undercurrent of tension that neither of them was ready to address. With Parker, she felt a sense of responsibility, to look after the younger woman and help her integrate into more normal society. And Hardison just never stopped talking, be it about a con or a MMORPG or Doctor Who (which Sophie would definitely not admit she watched). Eliot was probably the easiest of the team just to be with. He was quite, didn't expect her to chat or instruct or flirt.

In fact, he much preferred if she didn't.

So when she saw the hitter ambling towards the restaurant, she wasn't put out. Instead, she called, "Eliot."

He stopped and turned, waiting for her to join him. Today, he was clad in blue jeans, obviously one of his newer pairs as they were not yet too faded, and a plain white t-shirt under a long sleeved white oxford. Of course, his boots completed the outfit and he had his hair loose with a few of those pretty beads on the ends of several small braids.

It was a good look for him.

As she stepped to his side, his eyes flicked up and down. "Mornin' Sophie. New dress?"

The Ralph Lauren Silk Faux Wrap Dress in a blossoming floral print had been one of her favorite purchases of the previous day. It was set off perfectly by silver metallic, cross strap sandals and understated jewelry. She was glad somebody noticed, but was really waiting to see if Nate would even remember giving it the thumbs up from a chair outside the dressing room. She was fairly sure her had fallen into a shopping induced waking coma by that point, though he insisted he hadn't.

"Yes," she said happily, giving a little spin to show the garment from all angles. "How do I look?"

He gave a small snort, but smiled. "Fishing for compliments," he said, amusement heavy in his voice. "You know you look great."

She grinned. "One can never hear it too often though."

He shook his head good naturedly, then gestured towards the dining room. "Breakfast?"

She nodded and took his arm, allowing him to lead as they followed a waitress, a young woman named Julie (as the waiters from yesterday had seen them coming and suddenly became very, very busy) showed them to their table.

Nibbling on fresh cranberry scones with orange marmalade, they perused the menu and enjoyed the peaceful quiet of the hall. Only two other tables were occupied, one by an annoyed couple in their 30's, the other by an elderly gentleman reading the Times, as they had missed the early breakfast rush.

"Did you three have fun at the game last night?" she questioned as they waited for their waitress to return with their pot of assam melody tea and juices, mango orange for her, Açai for him.

Setting down his menu, Eliot nodded. "Good game. The Yankees spanked the Sox, so life is good," he grinned, then grimaced. "But remind me never to let the two of them loose in a stadium concession area again."

"How much damage was there?" Sophie asked, figuring the story would entail upended hot dog vendors and possibly some sort of tiny explosion, like a soda machine, or a keg. Anything bigger surely would have made the news.

"Unfortold damage to their gastro intestinal systems," he muttered. "I swear, they tried to eat their body weights in lousy stadium foods. It's gonna be a while before I can look at a hot dog, burrito or nachos without feeling sick."

Sophie tutted sympathetically as their waitress approached, placing the delicate tea pot and glasses of juice down smoothly.

"Are you folks ready to order, then?" she asked politely, withdrawing a small order pad from an apron pocket.

Eliot motioned for Sophie to go first and the grifter said, "Yes, I'd like the Sweet Honeydew with berries and blueberry banana sauce to start and the Dill Crepes with eggs, salmon, caramelized onions and beurre blanc sauce. That sounds just lovely."

"The crepes are excellent," Julie agreed, making notations, then turned her eyes to Eliot. "And for you, sir?"

"Braised Grapefruit with fresh raspberries and the Smoked Wild Salmon Frittata with cheddar and fresh chive cream. Thanks," he replied quickly, then paused and glanced at the closed menu. "Could I get the Belgian Waffles with berries and lavender infused pure maple syrup, too. Thanks."

The waitress hurried off after they placed their orders and Sophie chuckled. "Weren't you just extolling the horrors of over eating?" she teased him gently, wagging her scone in his general direction.

He shrugged and leaned back comfortably in his chair. "That was bad food," he said with a smirk. "This here. Is Good Food."

"Food snob," she accused lightly.

"Do you have any idea what's in a hot dog?"

"I don't, nor do I care to," she said quickly, hoping Eliot would not share that particular gem of information. Not that she ate hot dogs on a regular basis, but she did find them quite tasty on occasion.

Again he shrugged. "So, what'd you and Nate do last night?"

Now he was teasing. "We saw Waiting for Godot," she informed him with a pleased smile. "It's…."

"An existentialist play, I know. Two guys waiting for a third," he said, holding up a hand to hold back Sophie's review of the play. "Did Nate do something recently to tick you off, or is this years of anger being worked out?"

"What?"

"Spa. Shopping. Broadway," he said, sitting up as Julie returned wit a tray laden with dishes. "It's none too subtle man torture."

Delicately, she let out an amused huff. Not a snort, a huff. "Man-torture?"

Taking a bite of his grapefruit, Eliot nodded, but waited to swallow before he answered. "Yup."

Sampling her own starter, which was quite delicious, Sophie gazed across the table at the hitter who was quietly applying himself to his meal with gusto. She considered how best to answer his question. In a flash of insight, she realized that Eliot was a very good sounding board when one had a problem because he actually listened. Sure, he'd ask a few, initial questions, but then he'd sit back and let you talk it out. It was quite refreshing.

With a sigh, she placed her fork down on the table and pressed her palms together contemplatively. "The thing is," she began slowly, then raised one hand to make a circling motion, "I feel like we've been in this state of orbiting each other for so long and neither of us knows how to snap out of it. It's like we're characters in a story, previously combative but with obvious Unresolved Sexual Tension, who resist going into a full blown relationship for a rather long time.

"And now that we could be together, we've sort of stuck in a rut. One of us makes some kind of gesture of affection, the other backs off. Over and over again…So we keep the gestures benign, just spend time together. I invite him to do something and he always says yes, no matter how much he knows he'll hate it. I'll do the same! Did you know we went to a magic expo a few weeks ago! A Magic Expo, Eliot!

"For God's sake, we're two rational adults. We should be able to do this! Why is this so bloody hard?!"

Her voice had grown progressively louder as she ranted and by the time she finished a few of the wait staff and the annoyed young couple were peering over at their table with keen interest. Fortunately, Sophie's back was to the room, so she didn't notice the attention she'd garnered. The look Eliot aimed out at the gawkers sent the staff scurrying for work and the couple ducking back down behind the centerpiece on their table.

"What?" Sophie asked, turning to look around and finding nothing amiss. With a sigh, she looked back at Eliot. "I just mean, somehow, you and Parker are…what exactly, I'm not sure, but it seems to work for you. You seem happy, not determined to drive each other insane."

"You sure about that?" he asked between bites of his frittata. "The insane part, I mean, not the happy thing, cause we do drive each other nuts."

"Still," Sophie sighed, "any advice?"

Eliot sat back in his chair and scratched his chin lightly. "I don't think the two situations compare, but I can say be very clear. Even smart guys like Nate can be stupid about women."

Smiling a bit at that, she asked, "How did Parker let you know?"

A small, fond smile crept across his face, softening his features and lighting his eyes. Sophie always enjoyed the change that passed over the hitter when he was calm and happy. "There were little things, but of course I passed them off as Parker being Parker," he informed her, then grinned broadly. "Then on April Fool's, she doused me in glitter and nailed mistletoe up in my office. I finally took a hint."

Sophie well remembered that day of glue, glitter, feathers and fear. No one had been quite certain what Parker would think constituted a funny prank. No one had been hurt, so they called it a victory, messy though it was. With a laugh, she asked, "So, what do you have planned for the day?"

Pushing his empty plate to the Side, Eliot said, "Well, first I'm gonna get some peppermint tea into Parker. Good for a bad stomach. Then try to do the same for Hardison. Interesting note, the human body can hold a dozen funnel cakes. It just regrets it after."

"Oooh," Sophie grimaced sympathetically. "Why would he eat 12?"

"Eyes were bigger than his gut," Eliot grumbled. "How 'bout you? Plans?"

"A bit of shopping. Alone. Maybe work on how to broach a certain subject with Nate."

"Have fun."

"You too."

TBC

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