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sherydenTitle: Shelter from the Storm
Author:sheryden
Rating: PG
Word Count: 784
Characters/Pairing: Eliot-Sophie friendship
Spoilers: hints of Season 3, but nothing in particular
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was, Eliot would be shirtless in half the episodes.
Summary: Eliot and Sophie decide to take a night away from the team.
Notes: This is a little ficlet written as part of my![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
leverageland Big Bang. The theater is based on one I used to visit when I lived in Milwaukee--actually, it's probably a combination of two theaters, both in Milwaukee. I don't write a lot from Sophie's POV, but I thought I'd experiment with it a bit. Title is from a Bob Dylan song that has nothing to do with the contents of the fic. :)
Sophie leaned back in the red cushioned seat, letting her head fall lazily against the backrest. It was unusually comfortable for a movie theater. Her eyes traveled around the dimly lit room, drinking in the décor. It was an old theater, built in the 1920s. The walls were gold and red and boasted rich wood accents, and porcelain lions were nestled in archways along the far wall. It was Old Hollywood, and she loved it.
Beside her, Eliot sat sprawled in his own seat, eyes on the screen. Sophie gazed at him for a moment and smiled to herself. He looked calm and relaxed and positively swept up in the black and white film that flickered before them. If she wasn’t here on his invitation, she would feel as though she were invading some private moment. Sophie never would have taken Eliot to be a fan of the classics, but as always, he was full of surprises.
The evening had been his idea. “We need a break,” he had said. “A night out.” He had been right, of course. The team had been raging at a maddening pace lately, and a night out with a handsome man and good friend would be a welcome respite. When he had first suggested a movie, though, she had been reluctant, expecting him to drag her to a Western or a vulgar comedy. When they had arrived at a theater playing a marathon of classic films, she had been both taken aback and relieved.
She sat quietly for a while, watching the rest of the movie and simply relishing the company and the atmosphere of the theater. After a few minutes, the lights came on announcing the intermission between films.
Eliot stretched and blinked his eyes against the sudden burst of light. “You want a drink or a snack or something, Soph?”
“I wouldn’t mind a bit of something,” she said. “I think I’ll come with you, though. I could do with a walk.”
With a smile, Eliot stood and offered a hand to her. Standing up, Sophie looped her arm through Eliot’s, and together, they strolled out to the lobby. It was as impressive as the rest of the theater. Stained glass chandeliers reached down from the vaulted ceiling, and ornate rugs led the way to a bar at the far end of the room. After they’d each ordered a drink—wine for Sophie and beer for Eliot, they stepped off to the side and watched the other moviegoers filter by.
“I love this old theater,” Eliot said. He stuffed a hand into his pocket and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling.
“Mmm.” Sophie nodded. “How did you manage to unearth this place? It’s lovely.”
Rocking back on his heels, Eliot gave a shrug and let his eyes travel everywhere but to Sophie. “I guess I was looking for shelter from a storm one night, and I just… wandered in here. It’s like she was waiting for me, arms wide open.” He took a swig of beer, then finally met Sophie’s gaze. “This old girl’s one piece of civilization I can always count on no matter how bad things are out there.” And then his gaze was gone, eyes instead fixed on the label of his beer bottle.
As Sophie watched him fidget and sip at his drink, she felt a tinge of… not pride, exactly. That would be the wrong word. She felt honored to have been brought here. This was his place, his refuge, and he had chosen to share it with her.
Eliot had seemed off in recent weeks. Sophie supposed they all had been wound a bit tight of late. Nate had been so focused on Moreau that he slept, ate, and breathed plans to bring him down. And the rest of the team, well, they were exhausted, wired from the grind of trying to fulfill Nate’s plans. Even Eliot, who normally took marching orders from Nate with only minor griping, seemed to be more frayed at the edges than Sophie had ever seen him. He groused and complained and even whined about injuries and fatigue and the absolute futility of trying to take down Damian Moreau.
Nudging Eliot with her shoulder, Sophie said, “Is it storming out right now?”
“Just cloudy.” He was smiling, but exhaustion oozed out when he spoke.
“Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
He cocked his head and worried his bottom lip for a few seconds. Sophie could tell he was chewing on something unpleasant. Letting out a breath, he said, “One of these days, Soph, I’m gonna bring you back here. And we’ll talk then.” Slipping his hand into hers, he led her back toward their seats. “Right now, we have a date with Humphrey Bogart.”
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Author:
sherydenRating: PG
Word Count: 784
Characters/Pairing: Eliot-Sophie friendship
Spoilers: hints of Season 3, but nothing in particular
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not mine. If it was, Eliot would be shirtless in half the episodes.
Summary: Eliot and Sophie decide to take a night away from the team.
Notes: This is a little ficlet written as part of my
leverageland Big Bang. The theater is based on one I used to visit when I lived in Milwaukee--actually, it's probably a combination of two theaters, both in Milwaukee. I don't write a lot from Sophie's POV, but I thought I'd experiment with it a bit. Title is from a Bob Dylan song that has nothing to do with the contents of the fic. :)Sophie leaned back in the red cushioned seat, letting her head fall lazily against the backrest. It was unusually comfortable for a movie theater. Her eyes traveled around the dimly lit room, drinking in the décor. It was an old theater, built in the 1920s. The walls were gold and red and boasted rich wood accents, and porcelain lions were nestled in archways along the far wall. It was Old Hollywood, and she loved it.
Beside her, Eliot sat sprawled in his own seat, eyes on the screen. Sophie gazed at him for a moment and smiled to herself. He looked calm and relaxed and positively swept up in the black and white film that flickered before them. If she wasn’t here on his invitation, she would feel as though she were invading some private moment. Sophie never would have taken Eliot to be a fan of the classics, but as always, he was full of surprises.
The evening had been his idea. “We need a break,” he had said. “A night out.” He had been right, of course. The team had been raging at a maddening pace lately, and a night out with a handsome man and good friend would be a welcome respite. When he had first suggested a movie, though, she had been reluctant, expecting him to drag her to a Western or a vulgar comedy. When they had arrived at a theater playing a marathon of classic films, she had been both taken aback and relieved.
She sat quietly for a while, watching the rest of the movie and simply relishing the company and the atmosphere of the theater. After a few minutes, the lights came on announcing the intermission between films.
Eliot stretched and blinked his eyes against the sudden burst of light. “You want a drink or a snack or something, Soph?”
“I wouldn’t mind a bit of something,” she said. “I think I’ll come with you, though. I could do with a walk.”
With a smile, Eliot stood and offered a hand to her. Standing up, Sophie looped her arm through Eliot’s, and together, they strolled out to the lobby. It was as impressive as the rest of the theater. Stained glass chandeliers reached down from the vaulted ceiling, and ornate rugs led the way to a bar at the far end of the room. After they’d each ordered a drink—wine for Sophie and beer for Eliot, they stepped off to the side and watched the other moviegoers filter by.
“I love this old theater,” Eliot said. He stuffed a hand into his pocket and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling.
“Mmm.” Sophie nodded. “How did you manage to unearth this place? It’s lovely.”
Rocking back on his heels, Eliot gave a shrug and let his eyes travel everywhere but to Sophie. “I guess I was looking for shelter from a storm one night, and I just… wandered in here. It’s like she was waiting for me, arms wide open.” He took a swig of beer, then finally met Sophie’s gaze. “This old girl’s one piece of civilization I can always count on no matter how bad things are out there.” And then his gaze was gone, eyes instead fixed on the label of his beer bottle.
As Sophie watched him fidget and sip at his drink, she felt a tinge of… not pride, exactly. That would be the wrong word. She felt honored to have been brought here. This was his place, his refuge, and he had chosen to share it with her.
Eliot had seemed off in recent weeks. Sophie supposed they all had been wound a bit tight of late. Nate had been so focused on Moreau that he slept, ate, and breathed plans to bring him down. And the rest of the team, well, they were exhausted, wired from the grind of trying to fulfill Nate’s plans. Even Eliot, who normally took marching orders from Nate with only minor griping, seemed to be more frayed at the edges than Sophie had ever seen him. He groused and complained and even whined about injuries and fatigue and the absolute futility of trying to take down Damian Moreau.
Nudging Eliot with her shoulder, Sophie said, “Is it storming out right now?”
“Just cloudy.” He was smiling, but exhaustion oozed out when he spoke.
“Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
He cocked his head and worried his bottom lip for a few seconds. Sophie could tell he was chewing on something unpleasant. Letting out a breath, he said, “One of these days, Soph, I’m gonna bring you back here. And we’ll talk then.” Slipping his hand into hers, he led her back toward their seats. “Right now, we have a date with Humphrey Bogart.”
Master Fic List
