Chapter Six: your heart is aching
"You're gravity...searching for the ground
You're silence...searching for a sound
Your heart is aching...your heart is my home
It's fascinating...I know I'll never be alone."
- "Mercy" by U2
They managed to make it to their second location without incident. There was an underground garage to accommodate their two vans, and as everyone piled out, Nate looked around in approval. This was the first time he had actually seen the place, and it appeared that his specifications had been followed to the letter.
"What is this place?" Maggie asked, crossing her arms over her chest at the chill of the garage.
Nate started for the door that would lead to the rest of the place and called over his shoulder, "It's our new home. It's part of what took me so long to break you out. I had to make sure we had a safe place to go."
Sophie hurried after him, slipping her hand into his. The others fell into small groups behind them: Sterling and Olivia at the front, Hardison and Parker after, and Eliot and Maggie had fallen into the rear. The lights flickered on as they walked. The others winced at the harsh fluorescence, but he passed that off as a natural aversion from living with it for so long.
"It's not very big," he told Sophie softly, "but I couldn't find anyplace too obtrusive."
"I'm sure it's perfect." She smiled a little too brightly at him, and he had to keep himself from flinching away from her.
She noticed, though, and her mouth tightened as they kept walking. They came to a door, and Nate pulled out a key, unlocking it and pushing it open. The lights came on automatically; he grinned as he stepped through the door. It was similar to his old apartment with one large room for the kitchen, a small dining table, and a work area with a few more couches than he used to have.
He heard a murmur of approval from Hardison, who made a beeline for the monitors, running his hands over the screens. Parker scuffed her feet on the floor and shuffled to a couch, flopping onto it. Everyone was moving to what used to their usual areas, except for Sterling and Olivia. Even Maggie was wandering around, mostly following after Sophie.
Nate turned to Sterling. "You two can go explore, too, if you want. It's kind of like my old place, just without the staircase."
Sterling nudged Olivia's shoulder and walked off, muttering about finding a bathroom. Nate noted the way Parker's expression changed to glare at Sterling.
Sophie came back over, ignoring him when he reached out his hand for her. She smiled at Olivia.
"Eliot's going to make something for all of us to eat, so Maggie and I were going to claim some bedrooms. Do you want to tag along?"
Olivia grinned back at Sophie, her face lighting up. "Sure."
As they walked away, he heard Olivia start talking about chess, and he shook his head. It had been two years since he had seen Olivia, but she was surprisingly the same, just a little older and certainly more outspoken.
He moved to the kitchen and started opening cabinets.
Eliot looked up from where he was chopping up some vegetables. "Looking for the booze?"
"That obvious?" Nate groaned and slammed the last cabinet shut. "There isn't any."
"You missed one." Eliot jerked his head to the cabinets he was standing in front of. "Probably should be some here. Didn't you pay someone to stock this place?"
"Yeah." Eliot moved out of his way, and Nate pulled the cabinets open, grinning when he found a large stash of alcohol. "Looks like it is here."
"Don't overdo it."
"Yeah, I'm sure I can handle myself."
Eliot ducked his head and went back to chopping the vegetables. "Sorry."
Nate frowned as he filled a small glass halfway with whiskey, unsettled by Eliot's submissive demeanor. Nate scanned the room, noting the distance between Parker and Hardison while Hardison fiddled with some electronics and Parker just stared off into space. He sighed and downed the whiskey in one swallow.
Eliot sighed as he pulled out a bag of saline and started setting it up on a pole, sliding the needle into the crook of his left arm. He taped it into place and pulled out a book he had swiped from the shelves; it was some instructional manual on how to fold origami.
"That looks boring."
He raised an eyebrow at Parker and marked his place in the book. "Picking up a new hobby. You want to hook yourself up again?"
"I don't like needles." She frowned and curled her legs up into her chair.
"You should probably do another round. Make sure everything is flushed out of your system."
"How long will it take for you?"
"I'll probably do another two, just in case. I'm not exactly sure what they pumped into me." He grabbed another bag and tossed it to her. "You can do it yourself."
She turned the bag over in her hands, poking at it; she shook her head. "You do it."
He shrugged and prepped the bag, reaching a hand out for her arm. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking between him and the needle, but she eventually held out her arm.
As he pushed the needle in, he watched her flinch and start to pull away; he just kept a firm, loose grip on her and taped the needle down, settling back into the couch slowly. He went back to his book, occasionally glancing in her direction to make sure she wasn't going to freak out on him.
"I don't like what happened to us."
"Pretty sure we all feel the same way." This time he didn't put his book down; with Parker, he never could tell if they were having a conversation or if she was just putting a random thought out there.
"I don't think I'm the same person anymore."
Her voice was timid and almost too soft to hear. He looked up and turned the page. With anyone else, he would turn his full attention to the conversation, but with the fact that this was the most she had said in a very long time and that she was clearly dealing with complicated emotions she had no way of knowing how to handle, he knew to give her enough space to have plausible deniability.
She didn't look at him when she said, "I think I'm broken."
Her voice cracked, and she ducked her head, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. He stared down at his book, stuck in between step one and step five of how to fold a paper butterfly. He didn't say anything, just leaned over enough to put the open book in her lap.
She traced the tips of her fingers along the diagrams, her brow furrowing; she looked up at him, and he shrugged and rolled his shoulders to relieve some of the tension gathered there.
"We're all messed up, Parker. Ain't nothing new about that."
"But, this is different."
She shook her head and pulled out a piece of paper; he had no clue where she had gotten it from, but he didn't ask. He glanced over at his IV bag, noting that it was halfway empty.
"Yeah. But that don't mean there's something wrong with you."
She didn't give any indication of hearing him; from what he could see, she was absorbed in staring at the book, that damned blankness back in her eyes. He gave it up for a lost cause and closed his eyes to get a short nap in while the IV ran its course. He must have drifted off, because when he looked back over at her, she wasn't there and both of their bags were empty.
If it had been anyone else, he would have been bothered by not hearing anything. He just shifted in his seat, evaluating his need to find a bathroom when he caught the edge of white paper in the corner of his eye. He reached over and picked up a delicately folded butterfly from where it had been placed beside him, a small smile on his face.
Sophie watched Nate walk into the bedroom, curling up a little more on the bed. She had taken a very long shower and changed clothes and settled in to wait on him to show up about thirty minutes ago.
He gave her a small smile as he unfastened his pants and let them fall to the floor; his shirt soon followed, but he didn't make any move to join her.
She drew an absentminded pattern on the bedspread and said, "How exactly is this going to go?"
"Hmm?" He had moved to the bathroom door, a towel in his hand. "What do you mean?"
"Are we going to just be friends for now?" She wanted to throw a pillow at him for the confused expression on his face. "Are you going to play the gentleman and let me 'recover' before you make a move?"
He looked away, a blush coloring his cheeks. "Sophie."
"Or do you just not want to fuck me?"
She kind of hated herself at the moment because she was being cruel and he didn't deserve it. Apparently she had lost most of her ability to communicate with people.
Nate dropped the towel on the floor and crossed the room in two strides. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her, pushing his tongue roughly into her mouth; she moaned and pulled him closer, trying to slide her hands under his shirt. He pushed her back onto the bed and followed after, kneeling to one side as he pressed his lips to hers again and again until she was breathless.
"So I guess I'm not all that repulsive," she muttered, lacing her fingers through his hair, grimacing at the horrible color. "And what did you do to your hair?"
"Had to dye it while I was on the run. I did get rid of my beard." He brushed his mouth against her jaw and pulled back to trace the features of her face. "You're still beautiful, Soph. That's never going to change."
"It doesn't bother you?"
"Not really. You're still the same woman."
She smiled wistfully up at him and shook her head. "No, I'm not."
He kissed her again, this time softer and slower, and she melted into it, willing her body to slow down and enjoy it; his hands trailed up her legs, pressing a little into her hips, his fingers fluttering against her skin.
She whimpered and turned her head to the side as he moved his mouth down her neck. His hands pushed her shirt up and over her head. He pressed his teeth into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, and she arched up into him, pulling at his undershirt, trying to get it off of him. He shrugged it off and trailed his mouth lower to her breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth, tugging on it with his teeth, smoothing his tongue over the tip. She moaned, her nails scraping against his back, and hooked her left leg around his thigh, rolling her hips up into him.
When he pulled back, she huffed. "Nate, don't be a bloody tease."
"Just trying to prove my point," he murmured as he tapped a finger lightly against her nose.
He slipped a few fingers into her underwear, dragging it down her legs; he nudged her thighs further apart, settling his shoulder between them, his mouth slipping along her skin, closer and closer. He curled a hand around her left hip, his thumb dipping down to stroke her lightly, barely any pressure but she moaned and bucked.
Chuckling, he pressed his mouth into her center, and she could feel the vibrations, rippling up through her body and across her skin as his tongue flicked her clit in a maddeningly slow rhythm. She draped one of her legs over his shoulders and dug her heel into his back in an attempt to force him closer, chasing after release desperately. He pushed a finger into her and sucked on her clit as he curled that finger forward and dragged it out.
"Nate." His name was a sigh on her lips as she tangled one hand in his curls and the other clenched onto either the pillow or the bedspread. She wasn't sure which.
He thrust two fingers back into her and started moving a little faster, pacing his strokes and licks to the sounds of her quiet moans and whimpers, the rock of her hips as the sensations overwhelmed her until it all crashed through her body.
She shook as she came, her breathing harsh in the quiet as she recovered, his fingers sliding out of her and pulling her into him. He kissed her stomach, the top of her breast, her collarbone, her neck, back to her lips. She could taste herself in his mouth, and it was enough to pull her back to the present, make her want him again.
She could feel his hardness pressing into her hip, and she slipped her hand down, palming him through his boxers; he hissed at the contact, and she pushed her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around him and moving in a smooth up and down motion, her lips brushing against his neck, her tongue sweeping over his skin. He mumbled something under his breath and started to move away from her.
"What's going on?" Her voice was too naked and raw after falling so open around him, and she watched him shudder at the sound.
"It's just…" Red crept up his neck and behind his ears. He wouldn't look at her as he said, "I don't think I'm going to last that long if…you keep…you know."
Her hand stilled, and she smoothed her thumb over the head of his cock, just once, to watch him fight against the groan, the involuntary jerk of his hips. She retreated and kissed him as she pushed his boxers off his hips.
When he got them off, he pulled her up against him and suddenly pulling back. "Wait. We need protection."
"No, we don't." She distracted him with an open-mouthed kiss that left him panting.
He broke away and shook his head. "Yes, we do."
"Nate, I can't get pregnant."
She knew she could have chosen a better time to tell him, but she wanted, no, needed to see how he really felt about it. She had never really wanted children; she thought of them as inconvenient and a nuisance, and it helped that Nate didn't seem interested after his loss of Sam. But, there was always a part of her that wanted that life with Nate, wanted the house and the children and the dog and that damned picket fence.
And, if the sadness in his eyes was any indication, he might have felt the same way.
"Can't? Why?"
She shrugged her shoulders, making an attempt at a smile. "Surgery, while they were working on my face. If you don't use it, you lose it, I guess."
His jaw tensed, and she blinked away some unwanted moisture from her eyes, turning her head away; as she stared at the wall, he dropped his lips to her neck and rocked his hips into hers, his cock slipping through her folds.
She felt two fingers on her chin, gently forcing her back to him. He covered her mouth with his and pushed inside her, his moan getting lost in the rasp of his tongue on hers. He swayed into her body with slow thrusts, his fingers mapping out designs on her skin, his mouth falling back to her breasts.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she slanted her hips up into him and murmured, "More, Nate."
His only answer was a groan and one of his fingers on her clit rubbing in gentle circles. Her head fell back, her breaths coming in short gasps as he pulled her closer, her name a murmur on the edge of his lips. She heard the rush in her ears, felt the spark in her belly snarl and flame to life. His finger flicked her clit in a faster tempo as he thrust harder in her, staring down at her.
This was the part she loved. His eyes got so boyishly wide, all stormy dark blue, a mix of concentration and wonder and adoration written all over his face, and she knew then that one thing hadn't changed. She loved him, still, despite everything and maybe because of everything.
"Sophie." It was somewhere between a plea, a prayer, and a poem, and his finger pressing into her clit pushed her over the edge.
Her mouth fell open as her muscles clenched around him, drawing him in even more, and she felt his release as he moaned quietly and sort of collapsed onto her. The weight was comfortable and reassuring; this was real, she was free, he was here. His breathing puffed hot air against her neck, and he shifted to her side, slipping out of her.
He reached for her and pulled her up against his body; his lips brushed against her forehead, and she shivered at the touch, every nerve ending in her body working past full capacity.
She closed her eyes. "This is real."
"Yes."
Her lips stretched into what felt like her first smile in forever, and she whispered, "Good."
"You're being ridiculous."
Sterling followed Maggie's agitated pacing with his eyes as he sipped at some of the whiskey he had nicked from Nate's store.
"No, it's not. Being worried about dangerous thieves possibly wanting me dead is a perfectly legitimate concern." He poured her a glass of the whiskey and pushed it across the table. "Besides, it makes Olivia uncomfortable."
Maggie sighed and grabbed up the glass. "It's not all of them, really. Just Parker, and possibly Hardison since he feels obligated to take her side on everything. Eliot was even nice to you tonight, and Sophie is going out of her way to make Olivia comfortable here."
"So, I only have to worry about the unstable, crazy blonde one?" He raised an eyebrow and gulped down the rest of the whiskey, wincing at the burn. It had been awhile since he had indulged. "Very comforting."
She sank onto the chair opposite him and swallowed some of the whiskey, leaning a little closer as she said, "Parker is unstable right now. She's suffered a lot, and you can't expect her to act like everything is all right."
He could see a few drops of liquid lingering on her bottom lip, and he resisted the urge to reach over and swipe them away with his thumb. He rubbed at his eyes.
"Everyone else seems to be fine."
"Then you haven't been paying attention." She snorted and threw back the rest of her drink; she placed the glass next to his, doling out a small splash for him and one for her. "We're all fucked up by what happened, and that's not going away any time soon."
She tapped her fingers against the table, a staccato rhythm that bounced off the wood and devolved into a random angry beat. Gripping his glass in his right hand, he covered her fingers with his left, slipping his thumb against her palm. She stilled and looked up at him, her blue eyes wide as she pulled free and fumbled for her glass.
"What did they do to you? How have you changed?"
His voice was heavy in the quiet, and she was suddenly too close to him, her lips almost brushing against the corner of his mouth.
"Well, first of all, I'm trying to decide if I'm going to fuck you or Eliot tonight."
He drew in a sharp breath, staring at her as she stood and walked closer. She placed her hands on the arms of his chair and leaned into him, her mouth brushing against the shell of his ear.
"Or, maybe him first, then you. Would you prefer that?"
He twitched and watched her smirk down at him.
Clearing his throat, he said, "What exactly are you trying to do here?"
"What do you think?"
"You've been spending too much time with Sophie."
As she laughed, she moved into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He smiled, placing a hesitant hand on her back. She dipped her head down and pressed her lips to his; he was too dumbfounded to kiss back at first, but her teeth nipped at his bottom lip, and he responded with a groan, reaching up to cup her face with his free hand.
She pulled back and rested her forehead against his, murmuring, "I do know that I don't want to be alone tonight."
"Okay," he replied, a little breathless, pulling her back in for another kiss.
He found her lying on the hood of the van and staring up at the ceiling of the garage. Huddling a little more on himself, he shuffled up to the vehicle and leaned on the side.
"What you doing out here?"
Parker rolled her head on her neck and blinked at him. "Couldn't sleep."
"You never came to bed." Hardison kept the irritation out of his voice, but he stood upright and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. Didn't want to bother you."
Her voice was dreamy and at odds with her furrowed forehead; if he didn't know better, he would think she had taken something. He just shrugged and slid down the side of the van to the hard ground, crossing his legs and leaning his head back against the vehicle.
"I want to jump off a building, but Nate says we have to stay here." He heard the give of the hood as she shifted her position. "I'm thinking about running away."
"As long as you take me with you," he answered automatically, half-laughing, before realizing that she might not be joking. "Wait, are you for real? Because you know you can't do that."
"Why not? Why should we listen to Nate?"
"He came and got us out."
"Yeah, after two and a half years."
He sighed and craned his neck to catch a glimpse of her blonde hair spilling over the side of the van. "Are you mad at him?"
She didn't answer for a long time, and he had almost dozed off when she murmured, "Yes. Or, maybe." She paused. "Not really. No. I'm just tired."
He smiled a little at that and said, "You know, you wouldn't have bothered me."
"What do you mean?"
"There's two beds in the room I picked out."
He waited, and she rolled off the hood, her feet landing with a dull thud on the ground. She walked over to him and crouched down, her hands brushing against his knees as she balanced herself.
"So, you know, you won't bother me. If you can't sleep or something."
He wanted to catch onto one of her hands, but she pulled them back and just looked at him. She shook her head.
"I don't want to sleep by myself."
He fought back the elation threatening to overtake him and asked, "You want to share a bed?"
Leaning closer, she smiled, looking him straight in the eye, and she darted in, pressing her lips against his in a feather-light kiss. He grabbed onto her shoulders; she stiffened at the sudden touch, but she didn't pull back. He traced a finger along the curve of her cheek and kissed it.
Standing up, she slipped out of his grasp, but she reached her hand down to him, and he took it as he pushed himself off the ground. She let him keep hold of her hand all the way back to their room, and he smiled.
Shifting his hand downward, Nate leaned further into Sophie's side and rested his palm against the heated skin of her thigh. They were secluded in a dim corner of the room on the far side of a sofa. It was late; the only other ones still wandering around were Olivia and Eliot.
Sophie hummed under her breath and pulled his hand away from her body, playing with his fingers lazily. It was only a time like this that she let him touch her in front of the others, half in the dark and only so much before she pulled away. He moved in closer and pressed a kiss to the side of her head; glancing in Olivia's direction, he sighed.
"She's staring at you again."
Sophie stirred from where she had been examining a scar between his left thumb and forefinger he had gotten a long time ago from a broken bottle. She shot a look at Olivia and turned her head back to him.
"And? What should I do about it?"
He tugged gently on one of her curls and said, "Talk to her. She's obviously very taken with you."
"That's weird." She frowned and pushed his hand away from her hair. "I'm more than twice her age."
"You look younger than Parker, though. She has no other frame of reference for you, so of course she's attracted to you."
"I don't know how to talk to her about…this." Sophie sighed and sank back into the couch's cushions. "More than likely, she's just curious and confused, and I appear to be the closest person to her age group. It's attraction by default, not anything real."
"You should still talk to her. At least before Sterling notices and goes into apoplectic shock about it."
She raised an eyebrow. "You think Sterling would be that upset to find out his daughter was a lesbian or bisexual?"
"No, but he wouldn't be able to stand her pining after you." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed a light kiss to her lips. "I'm not saying you should talk to her right now. Just sometime soon."
She wrinkled her nose and pouted a little, but she didn't protest again, which meant he had convinced her. She slid a hand into his curls and scraped her nails in a circular motion against his scalp; he moaned softly at the sensation and dropped his mouth to her neck, sucking at the place where it curved into her shoulder. He heard the catch of her breath and backed off, soothing the imprints of his teeth with a broad stroke of his tongue.
"I fucked him."
Nate pulled back and looked down at her, confused. "Who? What?"
She traced her fingers over his furrowed forehead and said in a steady voice, "Eliot. I fucked him."
"When?"
"While we were at that place. In a supply closet."
He winced and closed his eyes as he withdrew further; he sensed her following after, her hand resting on his shoulder. He half-expected her to launch into a full explanation, but she didn't, and he was grateful. A part of him, the one filled with rage and hurt, wanted her to so he could rebuke her, condemn her for this betrayal.
He breathed his way through those instincts, though, and waited for clarity.
Clearing his throat, he asked, "Is this something you think will happen again?"
He felt her fingers under his chin, forcing his head up to look at her. He gave into the direction reluctantly and met her calm, dark gaze.
"No. We were both half mad by that point, and it wasn't really about the sex." She withdrew her hand and bowed her head. "I understand if you don't want to forgive me."
He just looked at her for a moment, then covered her knee with his right hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm not angry. I get it."
Her eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Sure. I don't like it, but it's okay." He gave her a small smile and kissed the corner of her mouth.
She turned her head and caught his mouth with hers, pulling him down for a kiss that left him breathless when she let him go. She swiped her thumb along his cheek and stood up.
"Where are you going?"
She bit her bottom lip and said, "I thought I would go talk to Olivia now, while we could have some privacy."
"Okay." He grinned and waved her away as he reached for the book he had been reading a few hours earlier. "I'll be going to bed in a little while."
"Don't wait up," she teased as she walked off.
Nate started to open his book and settle in to read a few more chapters when he caught Eliot moving in from his left side. Oh. He had been set up.
Eliot slid smoothly into the empty spot Sophie left behind, careful to leave some space between him and Nate. He didn't want to trigger Nate in any way.
"So, did the two of you orchestrate this?"
Eliot studied Nate's posture, the clenched fist resting on his right knee and the firm set of his jaw. However, he was still leaning back into the couch which meant he was a little more under control than Eliot had expected.
"No," Eliot answered with a rueful smile. "Not really, anyway. We decided we should tell you, and tonight felt like a good time."
"Why?"
Under normal circumstances, Nate's tendency to ask questions without giving a frame of reference was annoying at best and made Eliot want to punch a wall at the worst of times. However, Eliot was perfectly aware of what Nate wanted to know; the problem was with how to answer it without alienating him or making the situation between Nate and Sophie worse.
Eliot cleared his throat. "She needed me. And, well…I wasn't exactly in a position to turn her down. You know what she's like when she wants something."
"Yeah." Nate chuckled, the sound a little desperate and broken as he rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I do."
"But it didn't mean anything. Not to her, and not to me."
"You're sure?"
"Does it matter?"
"I don't think so. What do you think?"
Eliot sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees. "I think Sophie loves you. What happened to her in there, it broke her in a way that nothing else ever has."
"What about you? Did they break you?" Nate was looking at him now, his eyes intense like he was searching for something.
"They tried." He grimaced at the memories and ducked his head. "They took away my control."
"How bad was it?"
"I killed someone."
"Did he deserve it?"
"I don't know."
Nate sighed, that cold righteous anger slipping back into his eyes. "More than likely he did."
"It doesn't matter," Eliot spat out. He felt irrationally angry with Nate for not understanding why this was important. "It wasn't my choice to do it. And, I wanted to."
"They were manipulating you."
"I know that."
"If you did, you would know that it was a ploy to make you lose control. Break your mind."
"I know, Nate. That doesn't change what happened."
"It does, in a way." Nate looked sad, then, and he drew back from Eliot. "I killed several guards while I was breaking all of you out, and I never gave it a second thought. I felt it was justified."
Eliot's heart twisted a little at that confession, but he nodded his head. "It was."
"I was justified because they had hurt you, had hurt my family. Why is what happened with you any different?"
Nate shifted on the couch and picked up his book, disappearing behind it. Eliot sat there for a while, thinking, and he finally stood up.
"Thanks," he whispered.
Nate just nodded his head and smiled; Eliot pushed his hair back from his face and walked off, his steps a little lighter.
Sophie smiled when she walked into the bedroom and saw Nate dozing on top of the covers, a few buttons of his shirt undone and his hair an absolute mess. She pulled off her shoes and crawled up beside him; she kissed his cheek and brushed her lips against his mouth.
"Wake up," she murmured as she smoothed her hands through his hair and relaxed against the pillows.
He stirred and grinned up at her, still half-asleep. "Hey."
"Hey yourself." She smiled and leaned down to kiss him. When he let her pull away, she said, "I thought you might want to know how my talk went."
"Oh? Do you want to know about mine?"
"What?"
"Just the talk I had with Eliot. The one you set me up for." She started to shift away from him, but he grabbed at her hands. "Hey, hey. I'm not mad."
She looked down at him with a reproachful gaze. "Then what's wrong with you?"
"I just woke up? I'm still processing this shit?" He sighed. "Look, it went well, everything's fine. You don't have anything to worry about."
She brushed a hand against his cheek. "Are you sure?"
"Do you want me to change my mind?"
"No." She laughed and kissed him again. "So, do you want to hear about what's going on in Olivia's pretty little head?"
"I'm listening."
He moved his head into her lap, his face turned toward hers so he could watch her while she talked; she played with his hair and sighed as she thought about a good place to start.
"Well, it's not as bad as I originally thought. Apparently, she's had a girlfriend before. As well as two boyfriends."
"Did she say which one she liked more?"
She laid a finger against his lips, shaking her head. "Patience, love. I'm getting to that. Anyway, she liked one boyfriend the best, but she said the sexual attraction felt the same. So, she's pretty sure she's bisexual." She paused, tracing her fingers along his furrowed forehead. "And, she does have a crush on me."
"Did she say why?" He grinned wolfishly at her, and she smacked his arm.
"Something about looking only a little older than her, my legs, and my accent," she replied, trying to keep the amused look off her face. "And stop looking at me like that."
He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, rolling to the side until he was pinning her to the bed.
'Everybody wants my girl because she's the prettiest, hottest, smartest, and most amazing woman in the world," he lilted as he tickled her sides.
She squirmed and kicked out uselessly at him. "Stop it!"
He stopped tickling her and pressed his fingers fully into her skin; she sighed at the contact and pulled him closer, kissing him lazily as she twined her arms around his neck.
"I have something for you," he whispered, pulling back just enough to speak, and his mouth just barely brushed hers with each word.
"I'm sure you do," she replied breathily as she slid a leg between his thighs.
He groaned and shifted a little. "As much as I would like to reenact some bad porn dialogue with you, that's not what I meant." He reached over and fumbled through the bedside table's drawer, pulling out the sapphire ring. He held it out to her. "Here. I thought you should have it back."
She took it from him with trembling fingers. "I thought it was lost. After I took it off…I didn't know if you would find it."
"Well, I did. I was hoping, um, well…that, maybe…"
She held out her left hand and smiled shyly. "Go ahead."
He slid it onto her left ring finger and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. She tilted her head up to press her mouth against his, her hands framing his face.
"I love you, Soph," he said quietly. He kissed the tip of her nose and smiled. "So much."
She blushed a little and tugged on his collar as she murmured, "I love you, too."
She pulled him back down to her, her hands slipping under his shirt.
Hardison pulled Parker a little closer and pressed a kiss to her blonde hair.
"Are you mad that we aren't having sex?" she asked as she ran her fingers up and down his arm.
"Of course not. I'm just glad you're here, mama." He grinned and lightly tapped her nose. "This? Just being here with you. That's what makes me happy."
"So, it's enough for you that we're safe and together?"
He shrugged. "I guess so. What else is there?"
She frowned and pulled out of his embrace, sitting up. He groaned and propped himself against the headboard; he nudged her arm with a half-curled fist.
"Hey, what's going on in there? What's bothering you?"
"It's not enough for me."
He sighed. "What's missing?"
"Revenge." The word slid out of her mouth in a hiss, and she turned to him with a slightly manic look in her eyes. "We were treated like things, and we help people. Who's going to help us now?"
"Are you saying you want to go after the people who did this to us?"
"Yes." She bounced a little on the bed and leaned closer to him as she said, "It's what we do."
Her enthusiasm faded a moment later, though, and she sank into the covers, her limbs a tangled mess as she tried to shift away from him. He reached out and tugged on her arm until she reluctantly curled up against his side, her head nestling under his chin.
"What's wrong?"
"Does feeling that way make me a bad person? Does it mean something is wrong with me?"
He could hear the tears in her voice, but he knew she wasn't crying. He squeezed her waist gently, just enough to remind her that he was there, not enough to make her bolt.
"No. Hell, I want revenge, too." He smiled bitterly and said, "So, I say we make those bastards pay."
"Good," she murmured. She slipped from his grasp and slung her weight over his abdomen, straddling his stomach. "So, we're going to have sex now."
His eyes widened, and he sputtered, "What? Girl, what the hell…one second…"
"Shut up," she instructed as she leaned over and kissed him, pushing her tongue roughly into his mouth and already starting to push his shirt up his chest.
When she pulled away and started working on unbuttoning his pants, he muttered, "Yeah, okay, ten-four."