Sara (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scripted_sra) wrote2013-01-04 10:15 pm
scripted_sra) wrote2013-01-04 10:15 pm
Entry tags:
Leverage | Losing | PG | Nate/Sterling
Title: Losing
Fandom: Leverage
Rating: PG
Pairing: Nate/Sterling, sorta, if you squint. I was shipping them while I wrote it, if that counts. Such ex-boyfriends.
Summary: Sterling's thoughts at the end of "The Maltese Falcon Job."
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use.
A/N: I was saddened by the lack of Nate/Sterling, so...I wrote a gen-ish drabble. Of course, lol. I need to write some OT3, too. Thanks for looking it over, Kelly.
Images, evenings filled with quiet contemplation and unspoken understanding, run through Jim’s mind. An entire friendship, borne of common interests, values, and ambitions passes by, and then one of the men demands, “Who the hell is this guy?”
He takes a moment, and he still can’t quite keep the disbelief off his face or out of his voice. “I don’t know.”
The scenes in his mind crack and shatter under the weight of the next words out of Nate’s mouth: “My name’s Nate Ford, and I’m a thief.”
Jim called it a draw, but maybe he’s lost something after all.
Fandom: Leverage
Rating: PG
Pairing: Nate/Sterling, sorta, if you squint. I was shipping them while I wrote it, if that counts. Such ex-boyfriends.
Summary: Sterling's thoughts at the end of "The Maltese Falcon Job."
Word Count: 100
Disclaimer: All copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. This work is not created for profit and constitutes fair use.
A/N: I was saddened by the lack of Nate/Sterling, so...I wrote a gen-ish drabble. Of course, lol. I need to write some OT3, too. Thanks for looking it over, Kelly.
Images, evenings filled with quiet contemplation and unspoken understanding, run through Jim’s mind. An entire friendship, borne of common interests, values, and ambitions passes by, and then one of the men demands, “Who the hell is this guy?”
He takes a moment, and he still can’t quite keep the disbelief off his face or out of his voice. “I don’t know.”
The scenes in his mind crack and shatter under the weight of the next words out of Nate’s mouth: “My name’s Nate Ford, and I’m a thief.”
Jim called it a draw, but maybe he’s lost something after all.