catko: (clubs)
[personal profile] catko
For holiday prompts...

Title: Boston in July
Fandom: Leverage
Characters/Pairing(s): Nate, Sophie
Rating: G
Word Count: 463
Words/Prompts Used: Ribbon, Ornaments, Icicles, Mistletoe, Elf, Tinsel, Jingle, Gingerbread, Wrapping Paper, Presents

"Whoof, bloody hell, it's HOT," huffed Sophie as she strolled into the pub, the blazing afternoon sun streaming in behind her as the door wheezed shut. She walked over to the bar, where Nate was staring into a tall glass filled with ice and something bubbly. ​He turned to watch as she scrabbled​ in her large handbag, finally pulling out a long ribbon threaded through with tinsel, which she used to tie her hair up.

He tipped his glass in welcome. "It's summer in Boston, get used to it." He took a swig as she mock-glared at him. Tone switching to serious, he asked, "Did you get it?" She reached back into her bag and pulled out a package in brown wrapping paper which she placed on the bar. "Yes, and it meant three more sweaty ​blocks to walk​. I should have taken a cab." She patted the package then sashayed around to behind the bar. "So ​much secrecy, darling: no sign on the door, and not a word from your man there." She filled a glass with ice and club soda. "What is it, presents for the team?" She gave him a bright, hopeful glance. "Early Christmas elf, are you?"

"It's JULY," he said, and slid the package off the bar and into the bag near his feet. As she continued to look inquiringly, he added, shortly, "It's for a job." "Oh, more mystery," she said lightly, and rounded back around to sit next to him. She put the damp glass against her forehead and sighed. "God, this dreaded humidity," she groaned, "Never would I think I'd wish for winter, but what I wouldn't give now for some snow and jingle bells and ho-ho-ho."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You? Ms. Cynical, longing for the Christmas season​?" "Oh I know, I'm not usually one for holiday cheer. Except the gift-giving. Ah yes, nothing wrong with that." She instinctively reached up to touch her ruby earring, and her eyes got a faraway look. The ice in her glass clinked, and, brought back to the present, she groaned, and reaching​ in her bag, pulled out a cut-glass bottle​ and proceeded to spray a fine mist around her face and hair.

Nate felt a bit of the mist tickle his nose. "Smells like gingerbread," he murmured, resisting the impulse to sway in towards her.

"Gingerbread? Darling, it's Guerlain. ​Now y​ou're the one that's got the longing​ for Christmas​." She spun on her stool to face him directly. "And in that case, it's too damn bad we don't have some mistletoe handy." She glanced up at the ceiling and back at him, impishly. ​The shiny ribbon in her hair ​shimmered, and the ruby earrings sparkled like ornaments.​​ "What would you do then?" she purred, parting her lips​.

Her look would melt an icicle, which Nate -- in Boston in July -- decidedly was not.  He leaned closer.
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