A/N - Short chapter, I know, and full of dialogue. But it kind of had to be done. Sorry for the wait as well! But happy Valentine's Day!
Alia-Mael - I know, right? It's what inspired me to try and write something - we need more of the Masquerade! Haha, but thanks for the compliments. :)
3. The Corporate Ladder
Dean woke up to a pair of pants being thrown in his face. Spluttering, he pulled them off awkwardly and tossed them to the floor. Grumbling a couple unintelligible swear words, he sat up and blearily looked around the room. Just when he was about to lay back down, a loud noise brought him back.
"Ahem!"
He looked right at the source this time, his thoughts finally becoming coherent even to himself. Ariane, clad in a bright green tank top, dark shorts, and knee-high boots was staring back at him, her arms crossed. When their eyes met, she rose an eyebrow at him.
"You getting up anytime soon, loverboy?" she drawled, a small smirk pulling at her lips.
It was then that Dean realized he was actually naked. Not that he really cared, mind, it's just that it was a surprise. He ran his fingers through his tousled brown hair and sighed. Was it night already? He rubbed the sleep away from his eyes. "God, Ari, it's…" he paused, looking sideways at his clock. "...midnight. Hm. Nevermind."
Ariane laughed, shaking her head. "C'mon. I want you to meet the boss."
It took a moment for her words to sink in, but when they did, his eyes went wide. "Wait, what? Meet LaCroix? When you had to go on and on about how he was going to yell and have a fit?" Dean shook his head, grabbing a smaller blanket from the bed and wrapping it around his shoulders before getting up. It was still cold, man. "What makes you think he'd even want to know someone went with you? Wouldn't he be mad?"
Ariane laughed at the display, seeing Dean wrapped in the blanket like a small child. "He'll be fine. He's like a baby that got it's candy taken away." She sighed, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. "Besides, if you're there, you can take a few hitpoints as well. Though I doubt he'd dish many out on you."
Dean huffed, but walked over to his dresser anyway. "Fine. But only because I'm curious about this bigwig of yours. Is he built? He's gotta be rich, right?" Why the sudden interest in the personal affairs of this guy, Dean didn't know. Curiosity kind of killed him before, anyhow.
Ariane laughed again, pushing off from the wall and walking towards the door. "As if. He's the cutest little man you'll ever see. Rich, but… well, tiny," she laughed as she walked out.
Smirking, Dean pulled the rest of his clothes on and bounded off after her. "So he's a shortie? Aww."
She practically ran down the stairs and out the side door, into the alleyway. "Tsk. Don't let him hear you saying that."
They walked in near silence as Ariane lead Dean to the next street, and in front of the Asylum. There were people walking all around, and almost crowding the entrance to the nightclub. It was doing pretty good lately. Dean wondered if any of them actually knew who its owner was…
Ariane pulled Dean past the nightclub and farther down the street. The image of a yellow taxi appeared and Dean figured Ariane had called it earlier. Sure enough, she opened the door and stepped inside, scooting to make room for him. Getting situated, Dean shifted and pulled the door closed while Ariane told the driver where to go. Dean wasn't paying much attention, fumbling with the seatbelt and cursing when it wouldn't pull far enough. He let it go and snapped it back, pouting.
"Oh, get over it. If that's getting you frustrated, just wait till you talk to LaCroix," Ariane scolded, her seatbelt perfectly situated and looked absolutely comfortable, as if she sat in the seat every night. It only served to anger Dean more.
Grumbling under his breath, Dean turned from her and looked out the window as the city passed them by. "You're the reason I'm going anyway. If you get in trouble because of me, it's your fault."
"Stop pouting. You're acting like a child, Dean. If there's one thing vampire society won't tolerate, it's childishness. I'm amazed you haven't been dusted yet."
If Dean's blood could still move, it'd be boiling. "Look here, Ariane Noel. I might not be the most mature vampire to ever exist, but I'm sure as hell more experienced than you, and a shit ton older. So shut your yap and mind your place."
Ariane seemed to anger just as much as him. "Oh? You don't even know how old I am! I could be at least 300!"
He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, and I'm William of Normandy." She was about to retort, but Dean wasn't done yet. "I can smell n00bness a mile away, fledgling. And besides that, why else would LaCroix employ you if you weren't expendable? Hm? He wouldn't risk killing someone old enough to have some sort of influence over his domain." He paused, finally looking her in the eye again. "I might not know the guy, but I know his type. You're a little babe, and he's using you to do his dirty work until you die off and he finds a new one."
Ariane was silent after that, excepting his argument. She knew she was just being used. She didn't care, she had other plans. But this Dean… had her confused. Finally, she broke the silence. "So just how old are you, then?"
He laughed, as if it was a silly question. "You're not going to believe this, but not very." When she didn't laugh at his obvious sarcasm, he sighed and said, "63."
"Alright, grandpa," she laughed, looking away for the moment.
Dean chuckled in turn, their previous argument done for the moment. "Hey, at least I'm not a great-grandpa. Or great-great-great-great-grandpa. We've got tons here. I'm still young too, compared to a lot of the LA kindred."
"True."
After around another ten minutes, the taxi finally arrived at what Dean assumed was Venture Tower. They were only a block or so from the Last Round, ironically, but Dean tried not to think too much about the political implications to that.
Ariane got out first, looking almost nervous, and waited for Dean to walk up next to her before she even reached the doors. They walked to the fancy double doors together, and Dean took the courtesy to push one open for her, following close after.
Dean immediately saw the receptionist. He was a burly man, dressed as a security guard. Well, it was night, Dean reasoned with himself. The daytime receptionist would be off now. Ariane walked up to the guy, smiling charmingly. "Heyya, Chunk. How's about letting us up to see the boss?"
"Sure thing, Pumpkin. He's been waiting for you anyways." He looked past Ariane, to Dean. "I don't seem to recall meetin' you before, though, sir. You with Annie here?"
Dean tried hard not to laugh. "Yes, Sir, I am."
Chunk grinned then, nodding. "Cool beans. I'll let the boss know you're comin' up. Elevator's a-waitin'."
"Thanks, Officer Chunk," Ariane chirped before grabbing Dean's arm again and pulling him up the stairs behind the receptionist's desk. He didn't like that he was being pulled around all the time, as it seemed to be happening every chance Ariane got. Grumbling, he pulled his arm from hers and looked her in the eye as she whipped her head around. An unspoken argument occurred, then she turned back around and headed up at a much more leisurely pace, Dean following a little farther back.
The elevator ride up was silent. Dean took the moment to check out the scenery. Of the small room. With plain wallpaper and some buttons on the wall. Yeah, truly inspiring imagery.
When the door dinged, and Ariane reached to pull at Dean, then stopped herself. Must have been more of a habit than Dean thought. Almost inaudibly, she growled in frustration and walked on, down the dark hallway.
The first thing Dean noticed was the darkness of the corridor. There were lights on the ceiling, but they just didn't seem to be turned on. Probably because kindred didn't need light to see in the dark. The kine that worked here during the day probably were the only reason why there were lights to begin with.
After what seemed like a mile-long walk through the hallways, Ariane led Dean through one more turn, and he immediately noticed the difference. There were two large, lighter doors with fancy markings in the wood. Light streamed from under the doors, a small crack between the wood and the floor. Of course this would be LaCroix's office. With a bigwig such as Prince LaCroix, Dean was surprised that he didn't work in a castle.
Ariane knocked gently, then pulled away from the door wearily. Was she scared? Then she grunted, as if exasperated, and walked forward briskly, pushing open the huge door and letting the light from inside the room flood the hallway and Dean's eyes.
Blinking, Dean followed Ariane inside and waited for the anger to come. Or at least some accusations as to why there was another guest with her. But there was nothing. Finally Dean actually took a look around, deciding that he wasn't going to instantly die if he noticed anything. The place was fancy. And huge. Blue wallpaper lines gold, intricate designs over parts of the walls, as if panelling different parts of the room. A hardwood floor, perfectly polished and pristine, demanded that Dean stay on the red rug in the center of the room.
Of course Dean defied it, and stepped off almost instantly. Though no one seemed to care, or for that matter, notice. Ariane had immediately walked towards Princess and had been talking to him for a while. LaCroix didn't even seem to acknowledge Dean, let alone care that he was there. Huffing in slight annoyance, he walked over towards Princess, taking in his sights.
The guy was a bit of a shortie, just like Ariane had said. He was dressed nicely, with a long coat disguised as a suit. Or maybe it was, and Dean had just never seen one like it before. Either way, it made him look nice and neat, tidy. His blond hair was swept to the side, neatly in its place where it could do no harm. His skin was deathly pale, meaning he was fairly older than most (as most kindreds' skin loses color as they age), and his eyes were an unearthly pale blue. He could be considered handsome by some, but to be perfectly honest, Dean didn't care at all. He was too transfixed with just how short the poor guy was.
It was then that Dean realized he was being examined as well. Princess was looking him over, suspicion held high in his eyes. Then he glanced back over to Ariane, a small sneer starting at his lips. "And you took this man with you?"
Ariane nodded, looking proud despite how much Dean knew she was nervous. "Yes, sir. He proved quite usef - "
LaCroix cut her off. "I don't care how he proved, fledgling, I only care that you disobeyed me." He looked as if he was about to explode, but then suddenly held it in control. A long blink and a deep breath later, he spoke again. "Did you at least do as I asked?"
"Yes, sir, I did." She reached into her bag and pulled out the papers they had acquired on the ship. "As for the actual scene, it was as if the sarcophagus had been opened from the inside. A handprint was on the side, and the lid was skewed."
"Opened?! How could it have been opened? That's not possible." It wasn't even as if he was angry, and Ariane seemed to relax at that. He was more disappointed with the outcome rather than her as well, which was also a relief.
"I did some research this morning, sir, and I believe they have taken it to the Museum of Natural History," she finished, looking proud with herself for being useful.
"Oh! Good, good. You must go there, and retrieve it. However, the situation will be the same as it was with the Elizabeth Dane. Do not kill anyone."
"Of course." And she started out, reaching to grab Dean once again but stopping herself. "Come on, Dean," she whispered, walking out towards the big doors again.
"Hold, kindred." Princess's voice sounded from behind Dean as he was about to walk out. Ariane paused too, looking back at her boss in confusion.
"Yeah?" Dean asked casually, refusing to be his puppy as Ariane was.
"You were truly useful to Ariane during her mission?"
Dean was a little caught off guard, having not been addressed otherwise through the whole meeting. "Uh… I guess so. I just kind of tagged along."
Princess seemed to think over something for a moment, before his pale blue eyes looked up at Dean with a new flickering idea behind them. "Would you be willing to do a job for me?"
Dean thought for a moment. "Do I get paid?"
"Of course." He looked back at Ariane, who had yet to leave. "Fledgling, leave us. Do your job, and I will have a reward for you when you return." And she left. Turning back to Dean, he offered a wad of cash. "This is two hundred dollars. If you travel to the address on this slip of paper," he said as he handed Dean a small piece of printer paper. "And find a man by the name of Alistair Grout, I will give you the other half of your payment."
Dean grinned, taking the wad of cash from Princess's hands. Chuckling in disbelief, he said, "Sure, man! Go to the house, find Grout, come back, get cash. Got it." And he walked out, ready to get his next pay.
