Tea and Emergency Biscuits
Title: Tea and Emergency Biscuits
Author: fleurlb
Written for: alinaandalionfor the 2011 leverage_sesa exchange
Rating: G
Characters: Hardison, Sophie
Word Count: 1,800
Spoilers: Vague spoilers for all seasons, but nothing specific.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I own nothing here and am just doing this for fun.
Summary: Sophie and Hardison have a heart-to-heart over gross tea and a tin of emergency biscuits.
Sophie returned to the office to find Hardison sitting at the briefing table, watching what looked like a live feed from Eliot’s personal gym. She paused for a minute and studied the scene, watching as the hacker watched grainy images of a small blonde throwing kicks and punches while Eliot coached her.
“You know that’s at least a little bit creepy, right?” she asked as she swept into the room, took off her coat and nonchalantly dropped her purse on the empty seat to Hardison’s left.
He jumped. “Yeah, I know.”
“Good. As those important public service adverts remind us: ‘knowing is half the battle.’ Speaking of which, does Eliot know you have his gym wired up?”
“No, and I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell him.” Hardison picked up a small silver remote, punched a button, and the gym feed flickered before disappearing.
“Do I look like I have a death wish?” asked Sophie with a knowing smile. She went into the kitchen and prepared a pot of tea, then rummaged through the cupboards to find two clean mugs. She opened the bottom drawer of the island, felt around for the false bottom, and then managed to pull out her emergency tin of Jacobs’ biscuits, specially imported after her last trip to London for just this sort of emergency.
Sophie tucked the biscuit tin under her arm and carefully picked up the tea mugs. She strode confidently to the briefing table and slid a mug of tea in front of Hardison.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked as she lifted the top off the biscuit tin, smiling as the delicate smell of chocolate and sugar wafted upwards.
“Where did these come from?” asked Hardison as he deftly scooped up a selection.
“Secret stash. Emergency use only.”
“What makes you think this is an emergency?”
“Come on, Hardison. I come in here and find you sitting here alone, moping and cyber-stalking.”
“Hey now, that was not cyber-stalking. That was just...” the hacker trailed off, looking for the right word.
“Plain old regular stalking?” supplied Sophie helpfully as she nibbled the edge of a butter biscuit.
“I don’t know what it was,” admitted Hardison as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes.
“Is that something you do often?” ask Sophie, stirring her tea to avoid looking at Hardison. She didn’t exactly know how to ease into this conversational landmine, but open-ended questions seemed the best path for now.
“Nah, in the beginning of working with y’all, I did it more, you know, after that whole stabbing-the-dude-with-the-dessert-fork incident. But then Parker became....I don’t know....more predictable? Reliable? And it seemed like overkill, so I stopped.”
“But now something’s bothering you,” said Sophie.
Hardison shrugged one shoulder and took a sip of tea, then promptly spit it back into the mug. “That stuff is nasty!”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’ll have you know that’s the highest quality tea that China can produce.”
Hardison stuck his tongue out and swiped a hand across it, making noises of disgust. “Sophie, there was stuff floating in it. Like whole branches.”
“You are a Philistine,” she said, sipping her tea delicately to make the point. She watched as he trundled into the kitchen and theatrically rinsed his mouth in the sink before returning with a familiar bottle of orange soda.
Hardison sat down, unscrewed the soda cap, and then drained half the bottle before coming up for air. “Now, that’s a little better.”
“So what’s changed? Why is something bothering you now?” asked Sophie, intent on not letting him weasel out of the conversation. Something had been brewing between Parker and Hardison for the last several months and she was concerned that if they didn’t do something, the issue would blow up big at the most inopportune time.
“I don’t know how to explain it. She’s just the most confusing and infuriating person. She tells me she has feelings, for pretzels, but I think that I understand what she means. Then nothing ever happens, even though I tell her the pretzels are waiting for when she’s ready. But she never seems ready, nothing ever happens, unless it’s in the middle of a con. Sure, when she’s pretending to be someone else, then she can kiss me like whoa...” Hardison smiled at the memory, but then the smile dimmed and faded into sad regret.
He shrugged and then held up his hands in surrender. “I’m at the end of my rope, Soph. I gotta figure that if she liked me, really liked me, something would’ve happened by now.”
Sophie nodded slowly and sipped her tea, playing for time, but the way he was looking at her, all big sad eyes, she said the first thing that came into her head. “Hardison, if I could wave a magic wand and make Parker more normal and give you two a storybook romance, I would. In a heartbeat.”
“But if you made Parker normal, then she wouldn’t be Parker anymore,” said Hardison with a soft sigh.
Was there anything more heartbreaking than a man who fully grasped the impossibility of his situation? Sophie didn’t think so, but she also had to take heart from all the progress Parker had made so far.
“You know, even admitting to the existence of feelings was huge for Parker,” said Sophie. “I think you have to take that as a positive sign.”
“But that was months ago,” said Hardison, frustrated.
Sophie sat up a little straighter, the planning part of her brain kicking into action. “Well, maybe the problem is she doesn’t know what happens next. You know, in a way, Parker’s like a child emotionally. When we first met her, she was so emotionally stunted, she was little more than an infant, very self-focused and not aware of others. Now, she’s more like a middle schooler. What were your boy-girl relationships like in middle school?”
Hardison shook his head. “Too painful and horrible to even think about. Those stupid dances with the boys on one side of the gym and the girls on the other. Man, it felt like we’d suddenly been sent to another planet and no one knew what the rules were.”
“Exactly. So what can you do now, if you’re dealing with someone who doesn’t know what the rules are?”
Hardison blew out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. “I don’t know. Wait until they learn the rules?”
“Or,” said Sophie, dropping her voice slightly to make her words sound more powerful, “you could help teach her the rules.”
“Teach her the rules? How?”
“Ask her on a date. Ease into things. Start at the beginning, you know, the whole hands-holding, late-night-chats, fun-dates part of young love,” said Sophie, her voice rising as she got more excited about the idea. She could see it all unfolding in her head like a romantic black and white film.
“Which is great until she stabs me with a fork,” said Hardison dejectedly as he spun the cap for his soda.
“You can’t think that way,” insisted Sophie. “If she’s not ready, fine, she’ll let you know. And I’d like to think that she’s progressed to the point where she won’t stab you with a fork to express disinterest. And anyway, she’s interested.”
“Really?” he asked with a hopeful smile. “How can you tell?”
“The way she looks at you, Hardison. It’s unmistakable.”
He was quiet for several long minutes, then began to nod slowly. “Yeah, all right, I think I can do this.”
Sophie smiled. “I’ve no doubt, Hardison.”
She finished her tea and then looked at her watch. It was twenty minutes past the time that Nate had said he’d meet her in the office to take her to dinner.
“Would you happen to know where Nate is?” she asked.
“McRory’s, I guess. I can check,” said Hardison, picking up the silver remote and pushing a few buttons before Sophie could respond.
The video screens flickered and then McRory’s feed came online. Hardison flipped through several camera angles until he came up with the one from behind the bar. Sophie could tell the camera must be hidden just above the top-shelf liquors. She could clearly see Nate at the bar, a shot glass in his hand and a half-empty bottle of Jameson in front of him.
Sophie watched quietly for several minutes, expertly assessing the situation. He was brooding about something. The way he glanced down several times at his left hand, she guessed he was brooding about the past. Maggie and Sam, most likely. This was her least favorite version of Nate, since she never knew what to say to him.
When he brooded about jobs or cons or marks, she always had a ready answer. But Nate’s dead son and failed marriage? Well that was a bridge too far for her. And for some strange reason, it seemed to be happening more and more frequently lately. Which depressed her. The more time that she and Nate spent together, the more she’d expected the past to fade. Not that he’d ever stop loving his son and ex-wife, but she’d expected that at a certain point, Nate would at least allow the wounds to scab over.
“You want to talk about it?” asked Hardison, a surprising tone of compassion and understanding in his voice.
Sophie looked up and met his eyes, forced a smile. “No, but thank you, that was very kind of you to ask.”
Hardison pushed the tin of biscuits toward her. “Looks like an emergency.”
Sophie stood up and put her coat on. “Perhaps, but as a wise man once said, we’re going to need a bigger boat.”
“More cookies?”
“No, I think this calls for some retail therapy.” Sophie lifted her purse onto her shoulder and gave Hardison a little wave.
“Good luck with that.”
“And good luck with your... mission,” she said, hoping it was the right word. Hardison smiled and she crossed her fingers for him. She did hope that things worked out for Hardison and Parker, because the team could ill-afford two failed relationships.
Sophie walked down the stairs and paused at the doors, knowing she could turn left and head to the bar, see if she could salvage this night out with Nate. Or she could push ahead and go outside, to shop or find some other way to drown her misery.
Sophie stood with a hand on each door, debating. But then she remembered what she told Hardison. Sometimes, you need to teach someone the rules, show them the ropes. She took a deep breath, and then turned left.