A/N: So here's another multichap fic. I want to dedicate it to Lauraa-x and Music Is My Heroine (I had to write your name like that because FF is crazy!) for always being encouraging and supportive of my stories.
The goal of this was to try to see a different Ariadne. We'll see what happens...
Only Ones Who Know
Stunned was the immediate word to describe Arthur's feelings when he saw her across the dark, crowded room. Music thumped heavy in his head as he watched her, stunned.
She looked the same. Her brown hair still wavy, a little longer though, meeting past her shoulders. Her eyes wide and innocent. Her small frame still shorter than any other person he'd ever met.
Disbelief was the second word to come to mind, and Arthur had to blink several times to debate this reality. He traced his steps to this exact moment—breakfast, meeting with Trevor, lunch, recon, meeting with Trevor again, dinner—he remembered getting ready for this despicable place and coming in with one goal in mind. He touched his pocket, feeling for the familiar loaded die kept there.
This was real, and that knowledge only made his heart race faster, his eyes fervently search her surroundings, his mind whirled as he watched her. And while she wasn't doing anything particularly enchanting or worldly—she just stood there—she was everything he could look at.
She didn't see him or had the opportunity to acknowledge him. She faced the bar, her creamy, exposed back towards him, and he would've missed her by chance if she hadn't been standing on her own, her skin practically illuminated beneath the glowing lights as she looked over the dance floor. This was the glimpse he waited two years for, and he felt himself frozen, unprepared, though this meeting was constant on his mind.
She was right there, and he didn't know what to do. He tried to catch her eye, before she turned to the approaching bar tender for her order.
Along with the two years of separation between them, sat a dance floor full of bodies gyrating to some sort of techno-house beat popular in these underground club joints, one which Arthur hardly digested, so unfazed was he by the figure of the girl who walked out on him years ago.
He saw her before she saw him, meaning it was his decision to make this moment or let it pass.
What were the odds? He wondered at that as he stood against the wall, assessing the entire club, the hectic, colorful lights, the dancing people, the women walking by him, eyeing him. It crowded on his speeding mind. Distraction upon distraction tried to win his focus, but Arthur breathed in deeply. He turned the other way, looked at his watch, and then surveyed the room again for the mark.
Now wasn't the time for distractions, he had to remind himself. Now was the time for a job. A very important job. Micah Roebuch, heir to Roebuch Industries, was somewhere here. He saw him earlier, before he spotted her.
Arthur felt his heart hitch at the thought, and he quickly swallowed it down, tuning his senses towards the matter at hand. Micah Roebuch was here. He was the reason Arthur had to drag himself to this shit hole anyway. The fact that Ariadne stood approximately ten yards away shouldn't have an effect on him.
"Arthur?" the voice in his ear buzzed. Arthur started at the sound. "Arthur? Do you see him? Has Carrie gotten to him yet?"
Crude as it was to communicate with earpieces—Arthur hated the method and preferred the trust that naturally came with working in a group—he had to keep an eye on that girl they hired, Carrie. Of course, she didn't have any idea what they wanted the man for, all she knew was that she had to drag him out of the god-forsaken place and Trevor would handle it outside.
"And what about you sweetheart?" she had asked, when Arthur went over the plan with her and handed her the earpiece. "Who are you going home to tonight?"
Arthur smiled gently, remaining ever professional. "Home is a long ways away right now Carrie."
"All the more reason then," she said suggestively, her eyes roving over him with incredible slowness. She too was a professional.
Arthur shook his head. "As amazing that sounds, I'll have to decline."
"Girl back home?" Carried asked, shrugging off his refusal easily. She ran her hands through her hair and adjusted her posture, all the better for her assets. She gave him a questioning look, either asking for approval or if he'd changed his mind.
"You look great Carrie," he said instead, avoiding her first question.
"Let's hope so," she said with a wink, leading her way into the milieu inside.
Arthur easily found Carrie in the crowd, acting nonchalant on the opposite end of the room. She spoke to a few people, and when Trevor's orders reached her ears, she found Arthur and gestured with her head to the bar.
Gotcha.
Arthur told her to make her way over, muttering to his side—he never knew where to talk when he had these stupid things on—and started combing his way through the throng of people.
xxxxx
Ariadne leaned on the bar, elbows avoiding the sticky top and resting on the curved edge, as she looked around her. The club was innocuous enough. She almost didn't hate it as much as she professed earlier, despite her protests and some teasing. She curled her hair behind her ear, touching the hanging jewelry there. She hardly wore ornaments like this, but it was fit for the part, along with the heels, the fitted dress with the exposed back, though the draft on her back was a little discomforting. She missed her scarves.
What else did you wear to the club anyway?
She couldn't argue with that, and despite feeling a small bit ridiculous, she at least could feel that she didn't stick out. The bartender brought her drink over, and Ariadne slipped her notes over to him, before facing out, holding the black straw to her lips to take a polite sip.
"What are you drinking?"
Ugh. She'd been avoiding this question all night. She rolled her eyes as she ignored the nagger, pretending being her best defense as she looked across the bar, further down. But apparently he wasn't going to have any of that.
"Are you even old enough to be in here?" The voice continued, and Ariadne edged away slightly, though a part of her wanted to jab him with her elbow. "You're short enough to be—" She riled up at that comment. Her short stature was just—
Wait.
The persistence of that voice made her freeze, her brain concentrating on the timbre, the tone, the articulation of the words. Ariadne turned around, fire in her eyes. "Arthur?" She swallowed her incredulousness and couldn't help but stare, open-mouthed at the apparition in front of her. Arthur in front of her. Arthur smiling as he picked on her. Arthur in a club.
Surreptitiously, she pulled her hair back over her ear. "You're in a club?" she asked and immediately regretted.
Arthur looked around both of them and laughed. "It appears so, yes. You are too?"
Ariadne pulled her arms across her chest, self-conscious all of a sudden, exposed all of a sudden. The draft on her back was cool. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" she asked instead, and to her satisfaction, Arthur looked as uncomfortable as she felt.
His eyes darted across the bar, in the same direction Ariadne's had just been a few seconds ago. She noted the couple at the end, and that Arthur's eyes followed them like a hawk. She straightened her posture and tilted her head in his direction when he brought his attention back to her.
"What are you doing in London?" he asked without preamble, and Ariadne could see Arthur's eyes dart back and forth between her and the couple down the way. That girl was undoubtedly very beautiful. Ariadne bit down that remark mentally.
"I can guess what you're up to," Ariadne said, bitterness creeping into her voice, catching his attention.
He looked at her. "What? No. I'm just—I'm enjoying the night life." She looked unconvinced, her lips pursing with amused suspicion. He cleared his throat, clearly realizing his foible "What have you been up to Ariadne?"
She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said with a hollow smile on her glossed lips. "I think I forgot the part where I was still part of your concern."
He grew reasonable. "Ariadne—"
"No, Arthur, look." She shook her head in a gesture that looked as if she couldn't conceive it. "I'm sure you're here for a very important reason, and I think that it would be better if I just—"
"Where are you staying?" Arthur was past his usual cool demeanor. He seemed almost eager, frantic to break down this carefully constructed wall. "Maybe we can talk later."
Ariadne was already taking a few steps away from him. "That wouldn't be a very good idea, Arthur. I'm sorry we had to run into each other."
"Ariadne, I'm sorry. Wait—" He jolted slightly, and Ariadne could tell by how he looked to the side that he had an earpiece in. He hated those things. She took that opportunity to get away from him, downing her drink as she turned away as quickly as possible.
xxxxx
"That's her isn't it?" Carrie asked in his ear, and Arthur looked across the bar at this call girl, sitting on a stool, holding her glass in his direction. Her long, smooth legs were crossed over one another. Arthur shrugged, looking pointedly at the empty spot next to her.
"Little boy's room. The guy's on his way to gone. This won't be as difficult as you thought."
"Yeah? Well, at least something's working out tonight."
"Don't be so upset," Carrie said with resounding wisdom. "She still likes you." She took a sultry sip from her glass.
Arthur lifted his eyebrows in her direction. "What makes you say that?" he asked, holding back his eagerness.
Carrie smirked, sipping her cocktail. "She couldn't get away fast enough could she?"
xxxxx
A/N: Thanks for reading! And if you have the time, please review!
