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Three

Oh dear, this will be terribly dull, thought Sara as she stared through the crowd of men and women at the costume party. Her great aunt was the one who had done this to her – noticing Sara's mood pick up, she had told all the ladies that she had fallen in love with one of the rich men, and had thrown a masked ball so the young lovers could be together.

Man after man had asked her to dance, and she had reluctantly agreed, again and again. As another waltz began to play, Sara spotted another man striding towards her. She grimaced inwardly, and let her thoughts wander to the lower city. It had been a month since she had last seen the Dodger, and during that time she had tried to get away many times. She felt as if she were in prison, as if she couldn't escape.

Then her thoughts drifted to the Dodger. My Dodger, she thought, then quickly reprimanded herself. Don't be silly! He probably already has a woman for himself, and he would never think of you in that way.

Sara felt a tap on her shoulder, and she swung around to find herself inches away from a man in a black suit.

Softly, he said "Would you like to dance?"

Sara felt something for the first time that night as she accepted, and the man took her into his arms and they began to waltz. Sara's stomach fluttered, and she felt mildly dizzy. Who is he? She wondered. She looked up at his mask, but he wasn't looking into her eyes. For some reason, he was scanning the crowd. After staring shyly at him for a few seconds, and realizing, sadly, that he wasn't going to notice her stares. Feeling a little safer now that she knew she wouldn't meet the strange man's eyes as he led her around the floor, she looked into his face. Oh, he is terribly handsome. She thought. A flash of emotion hit her as she thought of the Dodger's laughing blue eyes. I might as well admire him, she reprimanded herself sadly. Dodger. . . she blocked off her thoughts, and returned her focus to the man whose arms she was being held in. She thought it strange he wasn't speaking, as most men attempted to show her their conversation skills while dancing. Wishing to end the silence, she racked her mind for something to say.

"A pleasant party, isn't it?" Sara cringed at how silly she sounded, but if it could take her mind off the Dodger, she would do it.

He glanced at her quickly, and the sides of his mouth tugged upwards. He looked too quickly for her to really see his eyes, but his half smile gave her a foggy sense of recognition. "Yes. But 'ardly a 'oliday, is it miss?"

Sara gasped. Trying to maintain some semblance of normality, for the sake of the other partygoers, she lowered her voice. "No, I daresay it isn't. But I plan to have a holiday soon." Sara could barely breathe. Being so close, and only because of that, she noticed that his suit wasn't nearly as fine a make as the other men's were, and his hat, though clean, was old. Under the hat were dark hair and a mouth that suited a wide grin, and she knew that his mask covered the area around two bright blue eyes.

"I would like that very much." replied the Dodger, looking down at her now, turning the full force of his dancing blue eyes to her. He felt sad seeing her in her finery - an indigo dress that framed her nicely, with no mask, and her long hair bundled at the top of her head. She would never – could never - be a part of his world.

As the waltz ended, Sara wordlessly motioned for him to follow her, and led him outside of the ballroom. The Dodger closed the white double doors behind them, and turned to Sara.

"Oh, I'm so glad that you're here!" exclaimed Sara, and then she blushed and looked away. Well, why shouldn't I be glad to see him? She argued with herself, and then looked up and drank in the sight of his intense blue eyes.

At that moment, the Dodger knew that it had been worth it to steal all the extra things he did and to hide them from Fagan to buy the suit he was now wearing. His grin widened, and then faltered at the thought of the last month that he had barely seen her.

"I'm sorry it's been so long," apologized Sara quietly, seeing the hint of sadness behind his eyes. "I tried to get out, but I was kept here by my aunt. And I am very glad to see you. I thought tonight would be so dull." She rushed. "But I want to run away, to get out of here. Can you help me? I would go to the lower city. I want to get away from here to the lower city! I don't care if I have to pick pockets for a living, it would be better then here! Some living if you can never think for yourself!" By the time she finished, Sara was speaking in a voice that was far louder than it should've been.

"What about yer campaign? It means the world to you." urged the Dodger gently, even though his heart hurt at the thought of reminding her that she couldn't run away. He knew she couldn't be happy with him. Here was where she belonged.

Sara sighed, and looked back up at him. "I know. I'm sorry." She whispered in anguish, looking down so he wouldn't see the tears she was blinking away. He knows you belong here, and not with him. She thought in disappointment.

"It's alright." The Dodger consoled her gently. It hurt him to see her so distraught. He took a deep breath, and looked around, then back at Sara. "I ought to be off, or Fagin and the boys will be wonderin' where I'm off to."

"Yes," Sara agreed, "I suppose they will."

As they both waited for a moment staring into each other's eyes, both of them wishing the other would kiss them, the Dodger began to turn away.

"Wait," blurted Sara, and as he turned back, she scrambled for a reason to make him stay. Finding nothing, she simply said, "I am glad you came. And I'll try to come visit as soon as I can."

The Dodger nodded, and smiled. "If you can escape from prison," he teased.

And as the Dodger left the building, Sara stayed in the hall, and sank to the floor, suddenly struck by how much she had missed him.

Out on the side, as Dodger pulled off his mask and headed towards the lower city at a brisk walk, thinking how glad he was he had missed Sara so much that he had gone to see her.