Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage…. Tried once, but that didn't work out for me. I am not associated with Dean Devlin, Timothy Hutton, Gina Bellman… the gang, basically.

Author's Note: I really love the idea for this. Concepts that you come up with when you're half asleep are generally the coolest ones. So, basically, I've read a bunch of stuff that had Sophie having been married before, and I was playing with that idea while simultaneously wondering what inspired Nate to be an insurance cop, and voila! An idea. I think it's pretty clever, and explains a bit about them and what they've been through together, and what they could still go through. I've also been trying to work on my imagery, since my fics are all talk and no description, and that's really not a good thing for an aspiring writer. So, without further ado: the actual story. Reviews make me happy, I'm just saying. Tell me what you want to see people, because my muse (XD Tenae) is always looking for fresh material to make stories out of. Anyway, I digress. Enjoy.

For five years, the building had been abandoned, the underground room rejected and vacant.

The only light in the room emanated from the shadeless, fluorescent bulb that hung forlornly from the ceiling, casting all but the deepest shadows of the room in a dull, dreary glow. The heavy steel door was shut, with the deadbolt in place, and the lock turned as an extra precaution. There was a thick layer of dust over everything except for the black leather chairs, which had been polished until they gleamed in the sparse light, as if waiting for the two men who sat in them now. A sleek Mac laptop hummed quietly on the table, the only noise to break the prolonged silence in the room. The table was small, with wrought iron legs and a stone top, looking elegant and out of place in the cell-like chamber. The walls were bare, and cracked in places, except for the wall the chairs sat facing, which was covered by a massive plasma screen that had cracked down the left side.

At the head of the table sat Aaron Mordaunt, a young Australian man with long blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail and taupe eyes. His frame was lean and wiry, portraying potential without the necessary discipline to hone the muscle. Despite his best efforts, his unease came through. He kept glancing around the room nervously, as if he was expecting someone to miraculously appear through the locked and deadbolted steel door. His right leg was bouncing spasmodically, and he was twisting a gold ring around his index finger.

The other man in the room, Christopher Keeling, cast him an irritated glance, and Aaron stilled. His elder was American, built more solidly than his wiry companion. His hair was graying, but brown remained the dominant shade, and it fell in curls around his face. His eyes, a piercing cerulean blue, gazed at the computer screen with a hunger similar to a starved wolf. His fingers skimmed the laptop's keyboard, and he brought a picture of a couple onto the cracked plasma screen.

The woman was stunning, with layered brown hair and chocolate eyes. She was tan, elegant, and graceful-looking. Beside her was a man with cerulean eyes and curly brown hair. He was leaner than Christopher, and younger, but otherwise, they looked the same.

"That's my ex-wife." Christopher said quietly, breaking the deafening silence.

"She's beautiful, Chris." Aaron said, looking stunned. Christopher nodded.

"Yes, and talented too. You'll never meet a better grifter. Sophie Devereaux: Beautiful, talented, able to turn any bad situation into a complete success. When she was my partner, we could have stolen the world." Christopher said, a reminiscent gleam in his blue eyes.

"So… why'd you two get divorced?" Aaron asked hesitantly.

"The bitch left me for that bastard."

"On the screen? That's not you?"

"No."

"But… you look just like him. " Aaron said, confused. "He looks like he could be-"

"My brother. That's because he is." Christopher interrupted, glaring at his brother with hate-filled eyes. "Nathan Ford, insurance investigator for IYS."

"The Agent Ford?" Aaron asked, astonished. Christopher nodded in confirmation.

"That's Nate. Always the good son, the honest man, the white knight." Christopher scoffed. "And he took her from me. We could have been the best thieves in history if he hadn't come along. The manipulative bastard stole Sophie from me, even though he had a wife, and tricked her into throwing me into jail. If you hadn't come along and busted me out, I would never have a chance."

"A chance for what?" Aaron asked, though he already knew the answer.

Christopher didn't look away from the pair on the screen, his cerulean eyes alight with the force for his hate and resentment. "For revenge." He hissed. "They ruined me, and now I'm going to ruin them."