A/N: Dedicated to Nophiefan who gave me the idea for this one. Thank you all so much for your reviews! You guys are the best. :)
Oh, and I don't own Leverage. Just sayin'.
"... and they lived happily ever after." Sophie began to shut the book, hoping Parker would be tired enough now to go to sleep. But Parker's small finger reached out and traced the words she had just read.
"What's that mean, Mommy?" she asked quietly, studying the picture.
Sophie sighed. "Happily ever after? It means they were happy because they had each other," Sophie replied, resting her cheek against the six-year-old's head.
"Are you and Daddy happily ever after?" she asked, still staring at the illustration.
Sophie smiled. "Oh course, sweetheart."
"Did Daddy kiss you like Sleeping Beauty?" she asked, turning back a few pages to see the prince kiss the princess awake.
"Well," Sophie said, her smile growing. "I kissed Daddy, actually."
"An' then you got married?"
"Well," Sophie replied. "Not for a while. You see, when we first met, I had a different job."
The hotel door fell open and Nathan Ford stood in the doorway with a gun.
"That's not really your style, is it?" Sophie said, leveling her own weapon at him and stepping in front of the Botticelli even though she knew he already knew it was there.
"How would you know anything about my style, Miss Devereaux?" he said, taking another step toward her.
She laughed, but her gun didn't waver. "Hamburg? '95? How about Cambridge, '93? You and I have history, Nathan."
"Well, this is where it ends. Hand it over and I'll give you a five-minute lead before I call the police," he said, his pleasant facade gone.
Sophie just smiled. "I have a different proposal."
"You said stealing is bad," Parker interrupted.
"It is, but I didn't think so back then. I was … well, I was very young," Sophie said, thinking fondly of that first meeting.
"Hand it over, Miss Deveraux. I have a flight to catch."
"But you haven't heard my proposal yet."
Nate took another step. "I don't think you're in a position to make proposals."
She raised her eyebrows, her eyes flicking to her gun. "I'd say we're equals at the moment."
"You have ten seconds to hand that painting over."
"Take me to see Bradamante at the Opera Bastille tonight and it's yours," she said, taking a step toward him, enjoying his look of surprise.
"You want … me to take you to an opera?"
She lowered her gun, taking another step so that his was nearly touching her chest. "Yes, Nathan Ford. I want you to take me to an opera."
He stared at her for a long moment, and she stared back, forgetting for a moment about the painting and the gun. Then he slowly shook his head. "I can't trust you to bring the painting. I'm not leaving without it."
She smiled. "Then don't leave."
Parker looked up at her, her eyes wide and fascinated. "Then what?"
"Well, the police showed up and we didn't get to go to the opera," Sophie explained.
Parker frowned. "That's not a good story, Momma."
"Oh really? How would you like it to be different?" Sophie said, trying not to take her daughter's words personally.
"Well," Parker said, sitting up with no more sleepiness in her eyes. "You would've got to go to the opera. And you would've kissed Daddy and rode a horse. See?" She gestured at the book. "That's what happens in happily ever after."
"Don't you remember? We do live happily ever after. You see, it was just a few months after that when we found each other again."
Sophie sat on the park bench, this time in Italy, looking rather out of place in one of her favorite cocktail dresses, and waited.
He didn't disappoint. Nathan Ford strode up to her and sat on the other end of the bench, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
"I assume you have a … proposal," he said, looking straight ahead.
She leaned towards him. "I assume you want the Degas. Your clients really should be more careful about where they put their priceless artwork, Mr. Ford."
He turned toward her, the corner of his mouth turned up. "How is it," he said casually. "That you only steal IYS insured artwork these days?"
She didn't allow herself to look fazed by his deduction. "Don't flatter yourself," she said. "But in case you were wondering, La Tosca is playing at the Teatro La Fenice tonight."
His smile grew and he pulled two tickets out of his pocket. "I need to see the painting first," he said.
She smiled smugly. "Fine. Shall we go?"
He stood and held out his elbow. "No tricks, Miss Devereaux."
She took his arm. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"An' then you kissed?"
"Well, not until after the opera. The arrangement worked out quite well for both of us. Daddy got the painting, I got my opera." She smiled at Parker. "And now it's time for you to go to sleep, love."
Parker obediently crawled under the covers, and Sophie closed the book and kissed her goodnight. "Sweet dreams, Parker."