Heads up: This one is kind of angst-y when Ariadne talks about her brothers. I promise there won't be a lot of stories like this in this series – angst really isn't my thing, but that's just how this one turned out. And I tried to end it on a not-so-down note. Please read and REVIEW!

He was closing up the warehouse for the night. Switching off the individual lights left on by the other team members. Packing up his brief case. On his way to the door, he made his usual detour by her work station – hoping this night would be one of the nights. One of the precious nights when he could drive their young architect home after a long day. One of the nights he longed for all week.

As he approached he managed to glance past all of her easels and poster boards of designs and he saw a petite figure hunched over a small table. Illuminated in the light from her lone lamp, she looked like a whole different person – softer. Angelic, even. His breath hitched for a second as she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. He allowed himself to grin back, "would you care for a lift home?" he asked her.

"If it's no trouble," she replied.

He shook his head and said, as always, "you're right on the way."

OOOoooooOOoo

"You're lucky, you know," Arthur said, as Ariadne reclined comfortably in the passenger seat, window rolled down. When he spoke, she smiled to herself; tonight, Arthur wanted to talk.

Opening her eyes, she looked at him, "How so?"

"You had siblings growing up," he said. Ariadne scoffed at this, unwilling to believe that her childhood was a stroke of luck, "No, really," he persisted, looking at her from the corner of his eye as he drove, "I just had one older sister – so much older she wasn't really around while I was school-aged and could have used an older sibling around. You know, to take some of the heat off me."

"What do you mean – what heat?"

Arthur quirked his head casually, "you know, just from my parents. Pressure to achieve highly in school, make all the teams, win all the awards – and I sort of thought if Liz had been around then maybe they wouldn't have cared so much. But she was all grown and on her own by the time it was my turn for all that shit. So all my parent's energy went into grooming me into their model son."

Ariadne is silent for a moment, biting her lip, processing. "Arthur," she begins slowly, "I had no idea. I mean, no one ever talks about their personal lives on the job. That – that must have been really difficult for you as a kid. Having hardly any choice in your own actions, it's amazing who you've grown into."

"Well, I did have some choice, I mean, I was given pick of debate team or chess team, since they both ran in the same season and I was already on the basketball team," he smiled breezily, thinking Ariadne was taking this too seriously, "but it's all in the past. Athletics never really stuck – if you hadn't noticed, my physique isn't exactly that of an Olympian. And debate has come in handy, I suppose."

"Well alright," Ariadne sighed, "If you don't think it's a big deal anymore…"

Arthur smirked, "I don't, really. Its fine."

Ariadne was sitting back in the leather seat once again, this time staring comfortably at the man in the seat next to her. Smiling. She loved gathering bits and pieces of him. Learning snippets of who he is and what he does gave her a thrill. He was an interesting man and she was genuinely amazed each time she discovered something new. Tonight, however, he had told her more than she had ever been told in all of their broken conversations during day hours.

They sat in silence for a while. Just cool wind traipsing in through the window. Streetlamps and headlights the only way they could make out each other's figures in the dark car.

"So what about you?" asked Arthur after several beats of quiet, "So far I know you have two older brothers – but what was that like?"

"Uhm, well," Ariadne thought about her childhood, trying to come up with the most accurate way to describe it without getting too carried away, "it was just normal, I guess. I have two older brothers; one is three years older and the other is ten months older. Noah and Benjamin." She looked to him, questioning how much detail he was looking to get out of her. He caught her looking and quirked an eyebrow, which she took as a signal to continue. She sighed, "Well, I hate to shatter your illusion that life with brothers would be, well, great fun. But my experience growing up with them wasn't so pleasant."

She took a breath and then said in rush: "I mean there are only so many times a nine year old girl can have her hair burned and yanked out before she just cuts it all off herself. And there are only so many nights a five year old can wake up to a floating Chuckie doll before she stops sleeping altogether. And, I mean, after a while a girls dates will just stop showing up because word has gotten round her high school that Ariadne's family are freaks and her brothers answer the door with wooden bats and tell the boys how their sister is a lunatic with attachment issues – but maybe the reason I have attachment issues is because I have been treated with blunt cruelty all my life by the two people who should have been looking after me because I'm their sister!"

They had stopped in front of her apartment long ago. But Ariadne had not noticed. Fuming at first, she glanced at Arthur, who was looking at her with an odd sort of intensity, and it dawned on her how much she had let slip. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was get out of the car and far away from the man whose eyes were boring into her after her little episode. She was humiliated. No one was supposed to know that part of her. She turned away from him and reached for the door handle, ready to murmur a quick "thanks for the ride" and bolt. Never to face him again.

That was her plan, until Arthur spoke up just as her hand felt the cool metal of the door handle. Softly, he asked, "It was really as bad as all that?"

Still refusing to turn around again, Ariadne nodded, biting her lip.

"I'm sorry. That's horrible," he said, gently still, "Your brothers should have been there for you. Taken care of you – or at least not torment you."

"Yeah," whispered Ariadne from over her shoulder, "I wish I could treat it all like it's in the past – over and done with – like you do about your childhood. But I just cant. They…affected me for life."

"I understand," Arthur said, "how are things between you and them now?"

"We're…well, we're alright. I mean, they grew up eventually – sort of. Noah is married, but no children – I'm not really looking forward to the day he does reproduce. Benjamin goes to Notre Dame. We're on alright terms. The boys are still close, except they leave me alone, thank God."

"And your parents?" prompted Arthur.

"My parents are fine. They're just…parents. They always insisted that Noah and Ben were just being boys and I shouldn't take their teasing so personally. A few times they did punish the boys for something they did, but never seriously. I don't think they knew how bad it was. I still can't sleep through the night…"

A warmth sparked on her back and she jumped a bit, turning to see what had caused it. It was Arthur. His hand was now gently rubbing her back. Ariadne froze, unsure of what to do, but relishing the moment. His hand felt so good moving in small circles, sending shivers down her spine. Mostly because it was his hand, she thought. He was touching her and not through a hand shake or a gentle brushing of fingers as she passed him a paper. He was really touching her and the heat from his hand seemed to spread to every crevice of her still body.

She could have gotten out of the car, carried on with her original plan and scurried away in a flushed embarrassment. But her body acted without consulting her mind, and in an instant she had turned around and fallen forward into his chest. His arms wrapped around her as if he had been expecting this as she let out a sob stifled by his shoulder.

This is silly, Ariadne told herself as she discreetly tried to brush away tears from her cheeks as she rested against his lapel. Arthur kept his hand on her shoulder as she slowly pulled away. Looked concernedly into her face and she turned away.

"I'm sorry about that," she said quickly, "I am usually ok with it. Just too much talking, I guess." And she reached for the door handle again.

"It's ok," he said, causing her to freeze in place again, "I don't like to see you hurting, you know. If talking about something upsets you, just say the word and we can stop. I do like getting to know you though."

Ariadne glanced around once more to look at him. His smooth face, small brown eyes, expressing nothing but warmth. And his smile. Always more of a smirk, really, but still friendly and comforting. Ariadne couldn't help but give a small smile back.

"Thank you, Arthur," she sniffed.

"Anytime."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Ok, as I said, angst isn't my style, but I think it had to come up at least once, in this series as they get to know each other. I promise they will mostly be happy, borderline fluffy (But I still want them to be believable).

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