Eluca sauntered away, swinging her hips in that cocky way that was so characteristic of her. Escher liked her smart, sassy attitude and the way she tore her opponents apart in and out of the courtroom. He sure couldn't stand the rest of her, but he respected that she could stand her ground. She kind of reminded Escher of himself, but marginally less awesome, of course. Eluca was savage, and the only thing she liked more than winning was watching Escher lose.

"Have fun dumbass."

"Fuck you, Eluca."

"Sorry," Eluca drawled as she exited. "I don't do pity fucks."

Before Escher could properly kick her ass, or at least decimate her self esteem (Eluca wasn't an easy target, but he was damned if he was going to let her get the last word), Escher's attention shifted. Out went Eluca, and in came a bumbling blonde. She looked highly pissed off, and had a stack of manilla folders held against her chest. Speaking of her chest, she had a very nice pair of -

"Escher Prince?" she slammed her hands on the front desk. The receptionist stuttered something and blanched. The woman insisted. "Well?"

The receptionist, some college student, passably cute (maybe, if he squinted), swerved her head in his direction. The woman caught the hint and turned sharply in his direction. The glass wall which separated the lobby from the actual offices, didn't stand a chance against her. She walked in like she owned the place, or at the very least, belonged there, and strode over to his desk. She planted the stack of folders on his desk and gave him one of the most remarkable glares he'd ever seen.

Escher was desperately trying to remember if he had dated and dumped her at one point, but couldn't recall. She didn't seem the type he would have dated. Not because she lacked prettiness - this, Escher admitted almost immediately, was not the case - but because she reeked of ambition and talent. The women he frequented couldn't even spell ambition.

"Prince?"

Escher gave her a smooth smile, "That'd be me. What can I do for you, miss?"

She smiled, but it wasn't friendly. Escher recognized it as one of those smiles Eluca gave men who thought they had a chance with her. The pretty blonde narrowed her eyes into the perfect picture of revulsion.

"You can drop dead."

Escher had envisioned Musiea Du Lac to be a boring looking girl, despite Zhamo's claims. The boy thought every woman was pretty. Hell, he even thought Eluca was pretty, which was absurd. He just couldn't correlate the woman in front of him with the woman he was going to destroy. He didn't even want to destroy the creature in front of him. She looked like a child, with her baby blues and her shorn hair.

"While I have many talents, that isn't one of them. Would you prefer something else? Juggling, singing, or maybe coffee?"

Du Lac rolled her eyes, "Save the banter, Prince. I came here for one thing, and one thing only."

Escher laughed. "Right to the point, I can appreciate that. Would you like something to eat? I hear giving up is better on a full stomach."

"My motion," she gestured to the manilla folders. "See you in court."

"Ha," Escher smirked. "You won't get that far."

"You'd be surprised at how far I can go."

Escher raised an eyebrow, "Why Ms. Du Lac, how foward of you."

Her face reddened. "What kind of scum sues an orphanage?"

Escher bit back a comment. If she got worked up, it gave him an advantage. If he got worked up, it gave him a conniption.

"Goodbye, Ms. Du Lac."

He breezily dismissed her from his office and she turned on her heel, unmistably upset but composed. Escher could admire that. Could, but wouldn't. The little girl was obviously not brainless or a Barbie, regardless of how much she resembled one.

For the rest of the day, Escher couldn't get Du Lac out of his head. He wasn't sure why, but he was brooding over her visit for an obsene amount of time. He couldn't concentrate. He was on his third cup of coffee and he still couldn't focus. Her motion was tucked into the left corner of his desk, ignored. He didn't want to look at it. He didn't want to touch anything associated with her. The more he thought about her, the more Escher tried to convince himself that he wasn't thinking about her. She was pretty, yes, but not that pretty. A bit ordinary looking. He wouldn't pick her out of a crowd of women.

Her insults were pretentious as best. He'd dealt with sinking corporations and divorcing wives who made the mistake of signing prenups. Her quips weren't extraordinary. Escher drew circles on his temples with his thumbs. She was giving him a headache and he'd known her for less than a day.

It was four twenty three. Escher knew he wouldn't sleep tonight. It didn't matter. He never slept much, and when he did he always had the same dream. The dream that had plagued him for years, now. He needed some alcohol, but that wouldn't do. Nothing could erase her memory from him, nothing could eradicate her from his veins.

Aida, he breathed.

He remembered her so vaguely that it made him feel fickle. He was six or seven when they had come together, and nine when they had been torn apart. Escher shook his head. He ambled into his kitchen and found a bottle of Vodka where he left it last. It was like a dependable friend, the only one he could count on.

Escher smiled without any true feeling. Du Lac was at the edges of his thoughts again. It didn't matter, he was alone. He was always alone.

Hello everyone! I'm grateful to everyone who has read/reviewed this story and I'm very excited to continue it. Your feedback and comments mean a lot to me. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please review.