SiSi4: Yes, they're thankfully making progress. Go curiosity, haha. And yes, that would be interesting…=) Coffeebean: He's been very torn up…I bet we're all wondering how Ariadne's side of the coin has been fairing. Yeah, I think Chloe and Ender would be an adorable team as well! I feel bad for her too…I know Arthur's separation from his family gets more focus in the story than Chloe losing her parents so we all (even me lol) forget that Greg and Sydney died and Chloe's going through her own trauma. And Ender's parents separating had to have affected him in some way. So these four are just royally messed up. And thanks! I'm glad the reference images are of benefit and that someone's actually looking at them! Neverlandspirit: Arthur's pretty good at interior decorating eh? And I'm just not going to comment on their reunion lol…Lauraa-x: Yeah we'll see…and hahaha I was looking up reference pictures for it and was like if I were eight ID WANT THAT ROOM. Here ya go!

Thanks annlea913 for making this story a fave.

Chapter 7: You Deserve It

"Arthur Dad?" The little boy voiced his shock before his mother was able to comprehend. Arthur saw the start in the boy's feet, saw the instinct to lunge towards Arthur but Ender held back. Instead he looked up at Ariadne warily and stepped behind her, his hand squeezing hers tighter.

"Hey buddy," Arthur smiled down at his son. Out of the corner of his eye, Ariadne's hand was feeling at her jacket pocket. He took that as his cue to look at her again. Finally seeing her, finally looking straight into her eyes, brown into brown, was simultaneously the most wonderful and yet the most painful feeling. "Ariadne," he repeated.

"Arthur." The Point Man could always sense what she was feeling but it was dulled from their time apart. He couldn't read her as easily as he once could but the tension in her body, in her face, was mirrored in him. Ariadne was reinforcing her walls, steeling herself with a swallow and slight turn of her head, "Hi."

He felt as limp as a noodle. His knees were weak, his bones felt heavy. He wish she'd let him hold her. Wish she'd open her arms and let him collapse into them like she was his warm bed after a long, hard day. Everything in him felt like singing. Felt like crying. His stomach twisted up in knots as winding and complex as a Penrose Staircase. And of all the many things he wanted to say—'I love you', 'I've missed you', 'I'm sorry', 'Come home', 'My life feels worthless when you're not in it'—he could only nervously choke, "Hi." And he could only stare at her like an apparition.

The guy at the register put her bags of pastries and two drinks on the counter. She handed Ender his bottle of juice and the bag so he could fish the pastry he wanted out, grabbed her drink and the back of Ender's shirt and guided the boy out of the store and out onto the street. Despite feeling sharp knives in his feet and fingertips when he moved, he somehow followed Ariadne and Ender outside and grabbed her wrist before they made it out of his sight again. He couldn't let them out of his sight again…he'd implode. The woman looked at where they were touching, the slightest bit of melancholy in her eye and a near undetectable furrow of her brow. Ariadne's eyes cut back up to his, "Arthur…" the shake of her head was small but for Arthur it was enough to level buildings. Where the wetness on his cheeks came from, he wasn't sure. All of sudden it was there and dripping off his chin and his eyes were blurry and her wrist in his hand was searing him to the bone. "I've been looking for you," he rasped, "I've been—I've been—"

Ender peeked from behind his mom; His beautiful blue eyes blinked at Arthur. "I've been miserable…" confessed Arthur. Finally feeling bad enough for his dad, Ender hugged Arthur's leg and reassured him, "It's ok, Arthur Dad." The Point Man scooped the boy up and held onto him with a death grip. When he met eyes with Ariadne, she frowned, an imperceptible amount of mistiness in her gaze, "I've been miserable too…"

It would've been nice if that had happened.

But none of it did.

The countless times Arthur had imagined their reunion it was like something out of your favorite scene in some romantic drama. A Nicholas Sparks or John Green inspired work. See for all of Arthur's stiff, no-nonsense, cynicism, he was actually very romantically inclined. Which after some deep thought, makes sense as well. He was a chivalrous gentleman who valued the traditional way of courting women: opening doors, pulling out chairs, bringing roses. One might even say he was a hopeless romantic. Even more so than Ariadne. He wanted to literally carry his bride 'over the threshold' when they got married. He was the rose petal sprinkling, cheesy line saying type of husband when everything was said and done. Ariadne—or rather, the things she made him feel—caused him to be that way.

He didn't usually imagine them randomly bumping into each other in public, however. For Arthur, he hoped it would be more of an intentional meeting on either of their parts. He hoped one of them would've sought the other out. Regardless, every time, when their eyes met, the world stopped. He figured she'd be at least a little upset with him, which was understandable, so he made sure he always imagined that to keep it realistic. But no matter what, he would apologize, get down on his knees and tell her how lost he'd been without her and Ariadne would forgive him, saying they were both at fault. That she missed him just as much and wished they hadn't wasted any time apart. And then they'd kiss and he's swing her in circles and Ender would come running up to hug his leg, saying 'Daddy, come home!' So when the moment arose in that coffee shop, Arthur predicted what would follow his tap of her shoulder would be something very, very similar.

Except it was very, very, different.

In response, the woman turned in surprise and gave him the weirdest look, "Excuse me?" Already untrusting, already on guard and offended by him reaching out. She held her bag and her son closer to her out of defense and gave him a cautious once over. What made this attitude better for Arthur was that…it wasn't Ariadne. Her eyes were green, her nose wasn't shaped right, her lips were too thin and her face too round. Arthur removed his hand like wildfire and stepped back. "I ap—I apologize. I am so sorry. I thought you were my—someone else."

The woman eased up and adjusted the bag on her shoulder, still careful to keep tight grip on her son though. Eyeing the progress of her order she gave him a flippant, "Oh, it's fine."

Awkwardly, Arthur complimented the child, "You have a very well behaved little boy."

"Thank you," the mother grinned at her kid and snickered, "He's having a rare good morning."

The little boy looked up at the strange man who'd approached them. His nose was wrong too and his eyes were hazel. Ender's were unmistakably, vividly blue like Ariadne's mother and grandfather. But the woman called him 'E' hadn't she? "If you don't mind my asking, what's your son's name?"

"Evan," she offered and then cut off further conversation by reaching for their completed order. She handed the bottle of juice and bag to the boy so he could fish out which pastry he wanted, grabbed her drink and the back of her son's shirt, and guided him out of the store and onto the street.

Arthur smiled politely at the man behind the counter and stiffly returned to his seat where a stunned little Chloe sat. Anyone could see he was hit hard by his mistake. And to him it felt like the entire bistro was staring at him. Like the entire state of New York was staring at him. Like all of the cities' blinking signs were pointing to him, throwing it in his face that he could never be so lucky as to randomly bump into his wife and son. His jaw ground back and forth as he tried to non-committedly stir his coffee and he would look nowhere else but. Chloe felt bad for him. He acted all tough and to himself but he was actually a sentimental man, wasn't he? Family was actually very important to him. She could tell by the way he looked at that woman when he thought she was his wife. When he thought that little boy was his son, Ender. He was different. He was open and vulnerable instead of stand offish and mysterious. His posture was gentle instead of rigid. His eyes looked warm instead of empty or constantly thinking. Chloe remembered that day she found the pictures in his study and how angry and loud he got. He wasn't angry at all though, was he? He was sad. And hurt. And lonely. She had to try to get his mind off of it, to act like she thought nothing much of it in case he was embarrassed. Like she didn't even notice he got up. So she quietly brought up the dinner again. "What was the recipe you were talking about?"

"Oh," Arthur remembered himself and tried to brush it off his shoulders, "They're apple and cheese frittatas."

Chloe smiled that way people do when they're trying to share the smile. Trying to transfer it from one person to another in order to make them feel better. "That sounds yummy." Her uncle's head sunk back to gaze deeply into the black pool of his coffee. The little girl had never seen him slump his shoulders. Never seen him fight the frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. She didn't say anything else the rest of breakfast and neither did he. He evidently wasn't feeling up to conversation and it seemed like silence was the best medicine at the moment. Soon, she was popping the last bit of éclair into her mouth, tucking her pictures into the pocket of her backpack and grabbing the nose of her chocolate milk bottle while he threw away their trash. She knew to stay close to him on the sidewalk even though the streets weren't as crowded as they would be in say half an hour or so. She didn't have to jog to keep up with him…he was walking like he was half asleep.

They came to a crosswalk and had to wait with a group of tourists (judging by the fanny packs and digital cameras), another man in a suit and some girl in khakis, a polo and a nametag. Chloe took the opportunity to look up at her Uncle Arthur and see how he was faring. His eyes were still hard. Not in the usual way though. They were only hard around the edges and his overall sullenness was more downhearted than dull. To anyone else he'd look like the usual peer-y eyed, bored yet determined businessman but Chloe saw him every day and knew there was a difference. The little girl wanted so very badly to comfort him so she did it in the only way she could think of that was subtle and wordless.

Chloe held his hand.

Arthur was immediately pulled out of his funk by a small hand slipping into his. He looked down at the culprit—who in turn upturned her lips into a sweetened, supportive smile—and the man melted. Here he was, the adult, and this little girl was the one consoling and uplifting him. How could Arthur not have seen it before? His duty as a brother and an uncle was taking care of her and making her happy, he recognized that. He was doing excellent at feeding and transporting and keeping her alive if he said so himself but he also thought that all of that had to do with the things he bought her. Clothes, hair supplies, groceries, toys, furniture, cameras, iPads, what have you. But those things weren't what truly mattered to her. There in her eyes and her smile, in the gentle squeeze of her tiny hand was what she really wanted. He could tell because it was the way Ender always looked at and smiled at him. She wanted Arthur's approval. She wanted him to like her, to care about her, to treat her as the family she was instead of a kid he was babysitting for a friend. The little girl needed someone in the world to love her as much as Arthur needed to love someone. If he couldn't share things with and dote on his son why not share things with and dote on his niece? Why not be the father figure she lost and the father figure he hadn't been to Ender? Why not use this experience to practice, to learn, to grow as a caretaker? And then once he was the ideal family man, he could find Ariadne and make everything up to her and their son. Who knows, after his family was patched up, maybe they could fly Chloe back out to them and keep her a bit. Maybe Ariadne would want to adopt her. He'd be doing everyone a favor getting her out of his parents' house and hair. Ariadne would absolutely love her (she was like Philippa and she adored Philippa) and Chloe would make a great big sister. Ender would have someone to play with…

Filled with a new glimmer of hope, Arthur returned the little girl's smile and gave her hand a small squeeze back as they started to walk with the crowd again. "So, the frittatas. They look like pies when they're all baked and sliced. Think that'd be fun to make?"

"Mhm."

"Me too. Which kind of apples sound the best: red, green or gold?" He knew her answer. She was obsessed with a certain kind but Arthur knew she'd like to give input.

"Golden Delicious!" She yelled and pointed towards the sky. This time, Arthur just snickered at all the people who jumped and gave them startled looks.
xxxxxxx

Arthur jogged from the car, pocketing his keys as he entered the restaurant. He checked his watch…he was on time, however the three men he was meeting up with were already there and seated at a table. With drinks. The Point informed the hostess he was with them by means of a pointed finger their direction and then he made his way to the booth. The three men were squeezed together on one side so naturally Arthur took the free area across from them. He ordered two drinks and then greeted his friends. Exchanging cliché 'good to see you's and 'been a while's.

It was the Englishman who deliberately eyed the empty space next to Arthur and queried, "Wait a minute, where's our beautiful girl?"

"My beautiful girl," Arthur corrected and checked his watch again. He'd talked her on the phone on the way there. That was roughly ten minutes ago and she was fixing to leave (or said she was) at the time.

Yusuf crossed his arms and protested jokingly, "She's the one we wanted to see." The other two men nodded in good-humored agreement.

Arthur snickered at them and assured, "She had to help Miles with something at the college first but she's coming." Just so they wouldn't worry if she was sick or think she was ditching them. Which, Ariadne wouldn't, but a clarification was always nice.

Eames simpered and sucked on the tip of his straw obnoxiously. His eyes in slits. No doubt trying to make an innuendo out of it, "It's been about a year now, hm? I'm surprised she's not bored of you already, Artie."

Adding to the teasing, Yusuf clicked his tongue, "I always thought you'd be eternally wed to your PC."

And to round it out, Dom laughed and leaned on the table to properly make eye contact with both his friends, "Don't worry guys," his hand flexed and his voice took on a mocking tone, "a year from now Arthur will still be married to his job."

The jesting was all in good fun, Arthur knew. He didn't take as much offense to it as he normally would. He took it in stride, a small smile on his face as he let them ramble on, crack jokes, and have their fun. It'd be the last time they got to use those worn out gags on him. "Actually, a year from now, I'll be married to Ariadne." It was better than any prank or witticism to see their jaws hit the table. The flabbergasted looks on their faces were priceless—he'd been waiting forever to throw it at them. How was that for a punchline?

The Forger recovered first and by recovered, I mean he stuttered and tripped all over his own tongue, "Woah now. Woah, woah, woah. Rewind the hell backwards and freeze." He gave Arthur a warning look and aimed his pointer finger at his chest, "You're not pulling our legs are you? Because it's not funny if you are."

"I'm serious." Arthur grinned like the Cheshire Cat and leant back, spread himself out on his booth. His arms draped along the width of the back. "I proposed while we were in Beirut." Two minutes later and their slack-jaws weren't old yet.

Eames deadpanned, "And she said yes?"

"'A million yesses' to be exact."

"Holy…" Yusuf stared at him in amazement. Engaged-to-be-married-Arthur was basically the eighth wonder of the world. Not to mention he was smiling with dimples and his laser-shooting eyes were all bright. He looked like a human. A very happy human. A very happy human who was in love…Dom picked up on that too. He'd seen Arthur relaxed but this was an entirely different animal from the one he was used to. The Extractor tilted his head, "My world just turned upside down. I don't know what's what anymore."

Arthur thanked the waitress for dropping off he and Ariadne's beverages and then raised his eyebrows at them, "You can't be surprised. You're all always teasing me about being traditional and old fashioned. Of course I'd want to marry the woman I fell in love with."

"Yeah but to hear you say it," Yusuf emphasized. "Your indifference to the whole of humanity has been the constant of my life…"

Under the table, the foot Arthur had propped up on his knee bounced happily. Almost giddily. He took a generous swig of his water, "Well I'm not sorry to prove your 'Arthur the Heartless Robot' stereotype wrong. I love Ariadne irrevocably. As long as I'm breathing, I want to be hers and I'll vow such."

"Who is this fucking poet?" Eames breathed to Yusuf.

To which Yusuf whispered back, "He used a big word, he's in there somewhere."

Dom dropped the act and nodded, "Joking aside, I'm honestly very happy for the two of you."

"Happy for us or happy you were right?" Eames was right too. He teased and prodded them to the point of unbearable awkwardness because he could sense the attraction but Dom was the one who ultimately encouraged it and pushed Arthur towards her. He was the one who straight up told Arthur that Arthur liked her and he better take her dinner because if she got away, Arthur would hate himself forever. Boy, was Dom right. Arthur looked back on that day a lot and imagined how different and miserable things might've been if he hadn't asked her to dinner that night. Dom just cockily shrugged, "A little bit of both."

Arthur retracted his arms and sat back up, "We're thinking about October, stateside. I'd like you to be my best man, Dom. And Yusuf and Eames if the two of you wouldn't mind stepping in for us as groomsmen…" Just then, a familiar woman in a sundress and cardigan stepped in the door looking for a group of men. They waved her over, all smiles, and each stole a hug. Eames was the last. His hug was pretty greedy and his kiss on her cheek wet, "Congratulations, Darling."

Ariadne's smile dropped and she looked down at Arthur and whined, "You're kidding. You told them without me too?"

"We were already talking about you and it just blurted out," he grimaced, taking her hand and pulling her down into the booth with him.

"I don't get to see anyone's reactions," she told the group, almost pouting "He tells everyone first. He even told our regular coffee guy this morning while I was in the bathroom."

"I'm sorry," he shrugged. "I can't keep it to myself." They could all tell Ariadne wasn't that angry about it from the way the couple laughed it off and pecked.

"Well, did he ask you about the wedding party?"

Not wanting to get the Point Man in trouble, the men pursed their lips and shook their heads non-committedly. Well, except for Eames. He enjoyed every chance to get Arthur in trouble. He slyly nodded, "Yup."

Ariadne's head darted to Arthur with a glare. The man plastered on a hopeful smile and lilted, his tone going upward as his sentence went. Placating her, "I ordered you a Shirley Temple…" after she raised her eyebrows and blinked at him (her smile growing. She expected a certain kind of apology) he added with an emphasized kiss on the cheek, "and I love you so much…" Ariadne just laughed at stuck her fork in her glass to pick out some cherries.
xxxxxxx

When Chloe's last class was let out that day, Arthur was bombarded by three little girls. If they were taller and wearing camo, he might've gone into 'ambush deflecting' mode. The other two stood behind Chloe, smiling widely at him (ignoring their mothers' questions and calls) while she batted her eyes at him and sweetly crooned, "Uncle Arthur?"

He raised his eyebrows and pocketed his phone, "Uh oh. I sense trouble."

"Linny and Emma's moms are taking them to Kil'n Time and they asked if I—we—could come." The little girl bit her lip.

The last time Chloe was invited somewhere…she was actually not invited and it crushed her. Since this time the invitation was directed towards her specifically and she'd finally have the opportunity to spend time with other girls (that weren't evil, classless, little shits), he hated to turn her down. He didn't rule it out. But decided to inquire further because he wasn't sure what she was even asking about. He got that she wanted to go somewhere with her friends but where exactly and what they would do was up in the air. "What type of place is Kiln Time?" Of course he didn't think it was some kind of kid's rave club (those didn't exist right?) but maybe it was like rock climbing or zip-lining…it could be bungee jumping or a shooting range for all he knew.

"It's a pottery place. Where we get to paint and bake our own stuff." Well. That was much safer than he anticipated. Knowing his niece and her daredevil tendencies, he suspected sky-diving or swimming with sharks. Chloe bunched the cuff of his sleeve. She didn't jump up and down or shake his arm, just kept it gripped tight with roundest puppy dog eyes he'd ever seen. "Can we go? Pretty please?"

There was nothing specific he had planned for the afternoon except making their frittatas for dinner. But they didn't have any apples in stock and they could make the recipe another day if they got home late. Chloe's heart was set on it so there was nothing else he could say but, "Ok, we'll go."

"Yes!" Chloe punched the air and then high fived her friends. Once given the approval, Emma and Linny went to their respective parents to collect their things and leave. Little Miss Chloe, the fashionista, stepped into her leggings (pink, peach and red floral print with layered red ruffles at the bottoms), slid on her white shirt (trimmed in pink, with pink buttons, peter pan collar and two ruffles reminiscent of a tux), a dark denim vest and her orange and pink flats from the other day. The brightest thing in Arthur's wardrobe was his watch and that was only because the silver reflected the light. Sometimes.
xxxxxxxx

Emma and Linny both picked out small horse figurines to paint and were waiting on Chloe to make a decision so they could start. Arthur stood with wallet in hand, looking into the glass case with her. "You could make a few small tea cups for your Loopsy dolls," suggested the man, pointing to a minuscule tea set that looked fit. Chloe sighed.

It was Linny who tugged her arm and pressured, "Chloe, get the pony so we can all have one."

The child did look at the ponies in Emma and Linny's hands longingly. Arthur wondered why on earth she didn't just pick the pony if that's what she (and her friends) really wanted. Instead, she looked at the nice lady behind the counter and pointed to a mug, "I want to make that for my Uncle Arthur."

Blown back, Arthur shook his head modestly and said, "That's sweet, Tiny, but I don't need it. Make the pony if that's what you really want."

Chloe glanced at her friends' hands again but was steady in her decision. Her head shook resolutely, "I want to make you a mug. You deserve one." After the morning he had, the little one thought a present would cheer him up.

"Well then I'll make you the pony." Lord help him. Of all the words Arthur never expected to come out of his own mouth, he had to be surprised with those. If he knew Chloe (which at this point, he knew her pretty well), she was going to document this outing as she did all others…it was ok if she wanted pictures of him delicately painting a miniature pony for her scrapbook journal. He could live with them pasted in a book she never let anyone else see. But if there were copies or leftovers they would be burned. Eames was thousands of miles away and hadn't visited the Point in years but somehow, he would find a way to those pictures and taunt Arthur for life. All of Arthur's wanted posters in various corporations around the world would be of him putting the requested lilac dots on a ceramic pony's butt—his one true nightmare, if he was honest, wasn't being captured by an old client, mark or teammate with a grudge…it was them putting him in a room with a slideshow of those pictures, pointing and laughing: Brony, Brony, Brony. He should be above that. But he wasn't.

They were each given an extra block of clay, the three girls and Arthur, to add anything extra they wanted on the figurines (or mug in Chloe's case). Emma and Linny and therefore Arthur (because Chloe wanted her pony to match theirs) decided on adding a unicorn horn to the pony's head and small wings to its back. Not that he would admit it but working with clay was actually therapeutic. Mashing it and molding it. It was Arthur's thing to be meticulous about detail so he may have gone overboard spiraling the horn and putting ridge detailing on the wings. What Chloe was shaping together was supposed to be a secret. She asked for a pottery idea book to prop in between them so Arthur couldn't see. If he straightened all the way up, he could see what she was cutting up over the book anyway but he wasn't about to spoil it for her. "You're not looking right?" asked Chloe for the umpteenth time. It was a habit that recurred every five minutes or so.

"No, I'm not."

He heard the clunk of her clay-knife against the table and hoped she hadn't cut a finger off. It was a pretty blunt tool, non-serrated, so unless she determinedly and forcefully tried to chop through her bone nothing was really going to happen. Still, she was his niece and they made them sign waivers so he was being paranoid. She didn't scream in horrific pain, she lilted, "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," he squinted and pinched the edge of one of the wings so he could fix the ridges again.
xxxxxxx

Because the additions were small, the store estimated an hour or two for them to be partly baked to fuse into the original structure. Then they would be ready for painting. So the group agreed to spend time perusing the nearby American Girl Doll Store and grab a smoothie if time permitted while they waited. Arthur grew up with a brother, he had a little boy, there was no reason for him to go inside a doll store before now. Philippa had dolls when she was the age for it (she thought she was too old now) so he'd seen them. Ariadne mentioned she had them when she was a little girl but she didn't keep them or bring them to Paris with her when she moved.

He never imagined the world of dolls would be so extensive. This wasn't a store, it was an emporium. There was a hair salon, a doll hospital, stables, everything. As if these dolls were real live breathing people. Something Arthur did appreciate was the historical value this brand of dolls brought to the table. You could create a doll to look like you and buy all kinds of sets that coincided with the present day or pick a doll with a time period. From the 1700's or 1900's or the 70's etc., all different cultural and societal backgrounds. The stories themselves were unpredictably interesting to Arthur albeit pretty heavy for young kids. Some of them he had to do a double-take on. One was escaping slavery with her family, one's mom had died, both parents of one had died and was now living with her widowed grandmother and protesting against the dangers of children working in factories, one had a blind sister, one lived during the great depression…he was tempted to read the books for further insight into these tragic lives. Arthur also appreciated the tedious detail put into the sets. Who knew Arthur would enjoy himself looking at accessories and furniture for dolls. Arthur asked Chloe if she had any of these because he certainly encouraged a play toy which had educational value.

She nodded, fixing the skirt of a doll dress displayed in front of them, "I have Samantha and Kit at home. I didn't bring them because I didn't have room in my suitcase."

Excellent. Points for Greg and Sydney. "Would you like to get something for them? Pick out a few things."

"It's ok," Chloe shook her head, "I have most of their collections already." Despite her polite decline, Arthur saw her eyes gleam when she looked at the distinguished pink bike outfit propped up for Samantha. The little girl chewed on her lip and peered at the price for it then looked for the small box on the adjacent shelves, "Besides they gave me money for souvenirs and stuff, I can buy something myself."

Arthur bent in half to scan over the price and was appalled, "Not for forty dollars you're not. I'll get it. Save your money for something else you want."

"But everything I want, you won't let me get myself," the child crossed her arms over her chest. Arthur gave her a look of disbelief. What kid on earth would argue with an adult when they offered to buy an expensive toy for them? Emma and Linny were darting around the store practically begging their moms for something. He thought he overheard them granted an outfit and small set each. Chloe leaned on the shelf with one elbow and blew air out of her cheeks, "This cash is burning a hole in my backpack. Mimi and Papa are gonna be suspicious when I come home without spending a penny. I have eyes too big for my wallet, they won't buy it." While true, in reality, she was afraid that Uncle Arthur felt obligated to buy her things. Maybe he thought that's just what you do with kids. But her mom taught her never to take advantage of someone's kindness and after Uncle Arthur not only set up a bedroom for her but bought books and toys and hair bows and all sorts of things when he barely wanted her to stay there a couple weeks ago…she felt like she was bordering that line. Last thing she wanted was for him to think she was a brat. That's why she decided to make him a mug instead of making a pony for herself.

True, Arthur reasoned. At this rate, Chloe would need a U-Haul or at least three more suitcases to take everything he'd gotten her back with her—and he hadn't thought about how Chloe would justify going back to his parents with so much stuff and full pockets. Then again, Arthur mentioned to her about coming and visiting him every so often and having her room in his penthouse. And he meant it very seriously. Perhaps, every summer she could come to camp and stay with him. And then come for longer stays or a potentially permanent one once Ariadne and Ender were back in the picture. She'd just have to leave all her new books and toys at his place, after all, she'd want some things to play with there when she came back. "Will you have some left over if you purchase that yourself? A decent amount?"

Chloe looked up in thought probably calculating in her head. A couple seconds later she nodded, "They gave me a couple hundred, in case."

Arthur nodded, "Ok. If it's financially doable for you and you'd like to pay out of your own pocket, I won't object. But let it be known, this is only for the record so your Mimi and Papa won't get suspicious, find out we've met, and chop my head off."

Chloe hummed and hugged the (pretty small) box to her.

"Is there another doll you like though?" Arthur casually asked as they started heading towards the front, looking to see if her friends were ready to check out as well. "One for me to buy?" The Point Man had plenty of money. Hell, he still had some left over from the job before Inception. He'd done many, many jobs since then and finished another not long before Chloe showed up. He was looking for something or someone to spend some of it on. As therapeutic as mashing clay was, retail therapy was just as satisfying for him. If he could provide things and make certain ones he cared about smile, he liked to do it. He was the same way with Ariadne and Ender. 'Overkill', Ariadne would chide. Sometimes, Ariadne and Ender wouldn't even truly want something. They could aimlessly look at it in passing and it would be sitting, wrapped, on their bedside table in the morning. Arthur lived to dream, yes, but he really lived to spoil. It was his way of showing love. Showing he valued his friends and family. He missed shelling out bills and swiping his card for other people. Missed that swelling pride that came with the other person's grateful smile. Chloe side-eyed a couple dolls as they walked but kept her head forward and her attitude non-chalant, "I'm ok. You've been so nice already and you're making me a pottery pony." Her pastel nails picked at the corners of the box she was holding, telling Arthur it was taking some self-restraint to keep turning him down. That politeness and sweetness only made him want to reward his young niece more.

Arthur pushed with a smirk, "She would stay with me and keep me company when you go back home. And then when you visit again, you won't have to bring too many things because you'd have toys here."

Chloe stopped in her tracks and as a result so did he. The eight (and a half) year old looked up at him and his raised eyebrows. She took a deep breath, her lips made a flat line and she tensely shook her head then kept walking, trying really hard not to look at any other dolls. She was getting a set to take home to Samantha ( she had the scooter set for Kit so now the two could ride together and get some exercise), she was very happy with that. Chloe didn't need another doll. But she wanted it. No. Chloe wanted Uncle Arthur to love her more than she wanted a doll; she wasn't going to get greedy and—what was it called? Overpay her welcome? Something like that. She heard the phrase before and it wasn't used in a good way.

Arthur wandered off and naturally she followed him because kids are supposed to follow their guardians around. "I tell you what, what if I got one for us to share?" Arthur eyed a blonde doll on display who was from the 1970's—the decade his brother was born in, "I think Julie's pretty cool. And Greg was born in '78…I think her stuff would be really interesting to collect for that alone. Everything's so accurate to the time period and I really appreciate having historical detail in the things I own. But I don't think I'd play with a doll…if I got her, I'd need someone to play with her for me to make the purchase worthwhile." He picked up the box with the doll in it and looked at her mock-modestly, "You think you could? For me?"

"You do love history…." Chloe inhaled deeply with a hint of a smile creeping onto her face, "I guess I could."

Arthur grinned, "Alright well, she needs to be comfortable with us. So we need her bed…find that box." Chloe took off down the aisle in Julie's section and looked for the display that showed where the doll's bedroom stuff would be. It wasn't the heaviest ever but Chloe struggled (using her knee as a prop) to get the box up to hold. Arthur found her and picked up his pace to take it from her, telling her to trade and hold what he had in his hand. He informed, "I got her another outfit and some pajamas and one of the food sets because we don't have any doll food and you have a lot of dolls."

They ran into the other little girls and their moms at the pay counter. Arthur and Chloe were a few people ahead of them in line and could feel the amazed eyes of their friends on their backs. American Girl stuff was not cheap, if they hadn't already grasped the concept that Chloe's Uncle Arthur was some sort of rich businessman, they did now.

Emma, Linny and Chloe sat at their own table in the smoothie shop talking about their dolls. Emma had Rebecca and Linny had Kaya. They went through both the girls sets and then carefully (with permission) the three of them opened Julie's box. Usually Arthur had to remind Chloe about her messy snacking but she was extremely cautious about sipping and keeping all traces of mango strawberry away from Julie.

Unfortunately, with the children caught up in their own world a table over, Arthur was stuck with Hilary, Kim and their curiosity. At least with Chloe, they were related (so he was sort of biologically obliged to tolerate it) and she was halfway cute with her precocious questions. But these women were none of those. So you're married? Arthur skirted around that one. Made Ariadne sound like him—out of town on business a lot. It was the easiest possible answer because it didn't need elaboration or explanation about their past. It was just a 'he's taken and she works' sort of thing so they dropped it. Emma's mom Hilary was recently divorced as well but it was a rare pretty one. Her and her ex-husband were still friendly. She even went shopping and to lunch with her ex's new wife often. She came with Emma to NYC because her ex (Jake) offered to pay for both of them and Emma wasn't ready to travel alone. Another little girl from her home studio was supposed to come too but their funds fell through. Linny and her mom (Kim) and her dad and baby sister lived in Brooklyn. So they were essentially at home—just trying something new and challenging over the summer. None of this Arthur truly cared to know. As always, he was blitzed with personal information but tight-lipped about his own. He checked his watch regularly until two hours had passed and he could use going back to the pottery place as an excuse to cease conversation.

It honestly took less time to paint their pieces of pottery than it took to sculpt additions to them because they each knew what they were going for. Chloe requested lilac polka dots somewhere on the pony but other than that he had free will. Arthur painted the main body of the pony a mint green like Chloe's stuffed elephant Penny and then sprinkled the dots on top of it. He was going to have the wings a simple white but after looking at Emma and Linny's ponies decided Chloe would like something a little livelier. So he went with a hot pink for the tail and wings and did detailing in a glittery silver. After seeing it on the wings, he knew it was the perfect choice to make the pony's unicorn horn all glittery. Again, he felt ridiculous (especially as other patrons walked passed him) fastidiously decorating a miniature unicorn but it was for Chloe, so he ignored the stares and focused on which color she'd like the hooves.

Now Chloe seemed to be going a more minimalistic route. No doubt keeping her Uncle Arthur's taste in mind. He continued refraining from peeking to appease her but could still see the colors she was using: white, black and red. That's it. Considering her wardrobe and everything else about her, Arthur was astonished she didn't have every color of the rainbow on her palette...But he wasn't about to say anything and risk his mug looking like a leprechaun fairy threw up on it.

Their painted models would take longer to bake this round so they'd have to wait and pick them up the next day (Thursday) on their way home from ballet. Arthur supposed that was a very good thing, it'd keep Chloe's mind off of worrying for the rest of the night about auditions on Friday. She could look forward to picking up her pottery and having ample time to play with her doll. That'd be good for all three of the little girls. Because the day had been used up by their activities and uncle and niece alike were quite frankly exhausted, they held off on stopping by the store for apples and making those frittatas. For dinner, they got a sub from the deli close to their building and hauled all their American Girl stuff (and her dance stuff) into the elevator and into the penthouse.
xxxxxxx

Minor assembly was required for Julie's bed—which only made sense to be set up in Chloe's room. While Arthur was putting the doll furniture together, his niece was hanging up Julie's few outfits, changing her into her pajamas and introducing her to all her other toys and animals. Chloe fell asleep before the bed was complete; the Point Man took it into his room so he could turn her light off and let her rest. Arthur sat against the side of his bed by the light of his lamp with a screwdriver. Last time Arthur put a bedframe together—

Arthur twisted the screwdriver rigorously while watching Ariadne walk around. Power drill in one hand, phone in the other. "Ok, E, we'll see you in the morning. I love you." Arthur couldn't hear actual words through the receiver just an enthusiastic squeaky voice but from the smile on Ariadne's face, it was clear Ender reciprocated the sentiment. Arthur called from his spot so the phone would pick him up and Ender could hear, "Night little man, Dad loves you too."

She asked, "You hear Daddy?" Then her smile shone her husband's way as she repeated the boy's reply, "I love you Arthur Dad." Laughing, she requested, "Night booger. Give the phone back to Grandpa Miles, please."

Arthur laid the frame down then tilted the other side to get a better angle to screw the corners. Ender was about to turn three and after he figured out how to actively scale his crib with the mattress lowered as far as possible it became a safety issue to keep him there. Especially when he started doing it, not to escape the bed, but to entertain himself. Up and down, in and out, all the time. There were a couple of pretty ugly and parent-terrifying falls so Arthur and Ariadne decided he was ready for the transition to big kid bed. For Ariadne, it was more than just switching out a crib for a bed, it was an opportunity to redecorate the boy's entire room. Miles and his wife offered to keep Ender for an afternoon and let him sleepover while the couple redid it. Just because trying to fiddle with curtain rods, power tools and paint was extremely hard (and dangerous) to do with a toddler under your feet, wanting to help. Wanting a snack. Wanting to play. "So 7 am?" Arthur deduced that was the time Ender would be dropped back off. Ariadne graciously said, "No, no, that's fine. You have to teach early. It's fine, I'm sure Arthur will already be up and Ender and I will probably just go back to bed." Pause. "Thank you for keeping him. I'm sorry it took away your Sunday. I'll get Clarisse or Edith to take him next time, they've been bugging me."

Now, Stephen's diction was something Arthur could understand over the phone. It wasn't unintelligible gibberish like their toddler's. It was low, even and precise. He heard: "Nonsense, Ariadne, we'll take every minute we can get with our honorary grandchild. We love our boy." That made both parents smile. The Miles' meant a lot to their family. Ariadne's entire immediate family lived in the States scattered through the Carolinas and Virginia. And Arthur's no longer spoke to him. They somewhat opened lines of communication up when it looked like he was leaving dreamshare but wouldn't unblock anything until his retirement was official. Still, there was a rift between them and Arthur so they mostly communicated through Arthur's mother and Ariadne. They accepted pictures and updates about Ender because their grandson couldn't help it that Arthur was (and they sort of suspected Ariadne used to be) a criminal. It hardly felt like family. So to have Stephen and Millie in the same city, bringing over cookies, fawning over the little boy, and inviting them to dinner like parents and grandparents should was comforting. Miles was very close to both Arthur and Ariadne so the fact that he and his wife considered Ender as much their own as James and Philippa choked them up sometimes. "We all love you too."

"See you kids in the morning. I may peek in and see what masterpiece your crazy mind has put together."

"Ok. Night." She hung up, stuck her cell into the waistband of her sweatpants and fired up the drill. She was making a faux headboard of license plates on the wall. You don't know how many overnight shippings from ebay and visits to car part shops Arthur had to go through to procure enough for her. Arthur propped the finished bedframe against the closet doors next to the mattress and brushed off his ant pajama pants. Yes. They were black pants with brown ants all over them—like ants in your pants—Ender picked them out himself for Arthur's birthday. As Ariadne stood up from picking another license plate out of the box (she was being picky. Choosing the colors carefully for her overall vision. Honestly, while it looked great, they still looked randomly picked to Arthur) her husband proudly announced, "I'm done."

"Yay!" remarked the woman distractedly. It was hard to believe they'd been married almost four years and were raising a child. Standing on her tip-toes, stubbornly stretching to reach above her head with a power tool—in her sweatpants, sports bra and messy bun on her head, Ariadne looked exactly like the college student he first met. Except every day she got a little more beautiful. He thought maybe that was because he fell a little more in love with her every day. Ariadne rocked back on her heels and exhaled, looking at the overall appearance with hands on hips. "Ok," she pivoted to face him, "I have a few more of these to do. I've already opened the rug, will you lay that out where the bed is going to be and then put the curtain rods together and hang those? I finished sewing the curtains before dinner; they're in that bag there." Yes. Ariadne sewed Ender's curtains. No one had what she was looking for, so she decided to get her own material and figure it out herself.

Arthur playfully complained, a fake grimace on his face, "So much work."

Ariadne squinted at him, "Shut up, you love work." To make it better, she coyly sauntered over to him and snaked her arms around his neck, "Besides, I'll love you forever for helping me."

"That better be a promise," said he, locking his hands behind her back and pulling her closer.

"More like a universal fact," Ariadne quipped back and pecked him on the lips. Arthur wouldn't let her pull away. He took advantage of their positions to chase her lips a second and third time. "Mm, why don't we take a break?" He hummed into her mouth.

Ariadne pushed him back firmly, "No, no, no. We have a deadline." She turned completely away from him and doggedly resumed hanging license plates. "His room has to be done by morning. Before we go to sleep, really."

"Just a few minutes," the man hugged her from behind, "I've missed you."

There was a hint of bitterness in her: "Don't leave so much." And that was before Arthur got heavy back into dreamshare. He was taking a bunch of reconnaissance jobs and single extractions. He justified them as small favors that were nothing to do. Extra pocket money for Ender's trust fund. They only took him away from three weeks up to two months versus the five and six months he'd start leaving for a year later in their marriage.

"Let me make it up to you…" he whispered in her ear. Relishing the absence of a scarf by kissing her exposed neck, "make love to you…" his thumbs fiddled with the waistband of her sweatpants, "the house is empty…mm, you taste good…"

From the bite of her lip, Arthur could tell she was struggling against the idea. But she still shook her head and pretended to ignore him, "I can't hear you. I'm in a parallel universe."

"Come on," he coaxed, "when are the two of us going to be all alone again?"

Ariadne sighed exasperatedly and twisted towards him, "I tell you what. If we can get this done in…" she grabbed his wrist and read his watch, "an hour and a half, we can reward ourselves and make use of our toddler free house." Arthur raised both his eyebrows and made a dash for the curtain rods. Ariadne rolled her eyes and picked on him, "Such a man…"

Sometimes the happier memories of her made him want to close all the curtains, turn all the lights off and shrivel. Made him want to forget everything about her, them, their life. But sometimes the happier memories made him smile. Made him want to remember everything. From the way her hair shined in the sunlight to the smell of Carmex on her lips during the winter. Remember how much more she talked when she was sick because she liked the sound of the rasp in her voice. How without fail, every night, there'd be an unintentional knee in his back or slap in the face while she wildly slept. He wanted to remember the color of her toothbrush (purple) in the cup next to his and the sound of the padding of her feet on their wood floor. On those rare occasions he wanted to remember, were when his stash of pictures came in handy. When he moved the things from the study, some shelves and file cabinets went in the corner of the living area with his bookcase but most went to his room. The file cabinet full of Ariadne and Ender went in the back of his closet. He found himself there now, opening a drawer and diving his hand in, like a feening man searching for his drugs.

There were some of Ender playing in the rain in a bright green raincoat. When it drizzled Ariadne would take the boy outside and let him jump in the puddles (she jumped in a few herself normally). There was one someone else took of the three of them at the top of the Eiffel. Ender couldn't have been more than one, he didn't have too much hair on his head so they put a cap on him because of the wind up there. There was one of Ariadne asleep sitting up on the couch with a newborn Ender asleep in her arms. Arthur picked up another handful but felt a strange papery material on the bottom of the stack. It fell to the floor amongst a bunch of Ender's second birthday party pictures (which he missed)…half a piece of yellow, legal lined, paper with her handwriting. The last note of hers, her last words to him printed on it. Absentmindedly, he collected the fallen pictures and put everything away save for Ariadne's note.

He fell asleep holding it under his pillow.

xxxxxxx

I know…I'm evil. Reunion wasn't really a reunion. But in my defense, ya'll know me, since when have I ever let things be that easy? Arthur magically bumping into and finding them without lifting a finger? Nah. New York is Arthur's go-to like Paris was for Ariadne, if anything, our favorite Architect would avoid New York like the plague to keep from seeing him. I guarantee a reunion will definitely eventually happen just not this soon, his caretaking skills need to evolve more. He acts more like he and Chloe are family than he did when she showed up on his doorstep but it still feels like he's babysitting. At least, to me.

I have a plethora of Chloe's outfits (made into three separate collages) so ya'll can picture this kid's wardrobe cause she's out there. I'll pull some description from these outfits off and on throughout the entire story and they'll be there for ongoing reference if anyone gets bored or antsy or curious waiting on an update. All the pictures where you can see the kid's face that's wearing the picture, that kid is Chloe's actual face-claim. The outfit she wears for Kiln time and stuff is based on: ChloeOutfits1, bottom, far right. I also have a pic of Ender's big boy bed that Ariadne and Arthur were working on in the flashback. As always links on my profile.

P.S. I went back through ALL of my 'Story Elaboration' links and made the format cleaner and less confusing. No more copy and pasting into browser. Just straight links from the title of elaboration. It looks and works 10x better. So if the clutter of the page ever overwhelmed you and made you steer clear of them, fear not, its fixed!