Arthur (
dontthinkabout) wrote2010-11-02 09:42 pm
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Arturo y Ariadna ir a un baile (For
circularmaze )
Arthur entered the Teatro Colón with Ariadne on his arm. He spotted the man he had to speak with in the corner with his wife, happily drinking from a half-empty wine glass and chatting with other attendees. The charity ball was held in the lobby of the opera house, decorated in the colors of the Argentinian flag. A waiter with a tray of flute glasses filled with champagne walked pass them. Arthur stopped the waiter and grabbed two glasses, one for him and one for her.
The flight from Paris to Buenos Aires lasted about ten hours. Arthur spent most of his time on the plane going over the file he had on Santiago Sosa, the man who contacted him about a possible job. It mostly consisted of a small biography. He owned the Club Atlético Boca Juniors, Argentina's professional football team as well as an oil refining company, the biggest in the nation, in fact.
Arthur took a sip of his drink as he guided Ariadne to a small table off to the side, away from the dance floor situated in the middle of the huge lobby.
The flight from Paris to Buenos Aires lasted about ten hours. Arthur spent most of his time on the plane going over the file he had on Santiago Sosa, the man who contacted him about a possible job. It mostly consisted of a small biography. He owned the Club Atlético Boca Juniors, Argentina's professional football team as well as an oil refining company, the biggest in the nation, in fact.
Arthur took a sip of his drink as he guided Ariadne to a small table off to the side, away from the dance floor situated in the middle of the huge lobby.
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After she kissed the corner of his mouth, he took her chin gently with his thumb and index finger and tilted her head so that his lips met hers in a soft kiss. He bent his head back and said, "Get some sleep, okay? I'll arrange for a private jet to take us back to Paris in the morning. And don't worry about your things. I'll get the hotel to ship them over."
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She had to. Ariadne needed to know how they were leaving things.
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She wasn't going to tell him it wasn't safe. Clearly he knew that. That pit in her stomach reformed though. Ariadne would be constantly worried for him. And Paris wouldn't be the same without him. Not with the memories of the two of them.
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Great. Weeks in the same country with Ms. Perfect who was clearly all up on 'Artie'.
"I'll miss you." She finally said with a soft sigh. "We'll have to plan something big for when you come back. Maybe a night picnic in Montmarte."
She had to think about that, because any other thoughts either hurt too much or would drive her to definite insanity. Besides having something to look forward to may make the time pass quicker. Maybe.
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She nodded and snuggled in against him. With another yawn, she said, "It'll be nice." She closed her eyes after.
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Arthur shut the bedroom door behind him and dialed a number. When the person on the other end answered, Arthur said he needed a private jet back to Paris as well as the necessary paper work to enter the country. Once he was finished with the call. He went back into the bedroom.
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"Err-- thanks." She said attempting to put on the old shirt. Audible sounds of pain were heard as she slowly put the shirt on. Afterwards the wounded girls' held her elbow to keep from moving the injured arm.
"Tell'er I said thanks." She mumbled at his retreating form.
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"Sleep well?" She asked. Arthur nodded. He told her about their flight back to Paris in a couple of hours. Her face fell. She offered to drive them to the airport as well as take care of the stolen taxi in her driveway. Arthur muttered a small, "That will do," and then he asked if she had any pants or a shirt and shoes for Ariadne. She went upstairs to her bedroom and came back a few minutes later with a black pencil skirt and flip-flops somebody bought for her as a gag gift since she would never be caught dead in that type of footwear. Arthur said thanks. "There's coffee here, if you'd like some although I don't really have any food except maybe some day-old croissants." He remembered that she never cooked, at all. When they were dating, they ate at restaurants for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Arthur walked back to the bedroom with the skirt and flip-flops.
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She looked up Arthur and sighed. But beggers can't be choosers. And at least it wasn't the blood stained formal dress. Though Ariadne had to hold the skirt. "When will we be in Paris?" She asked sarcastically.
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And now she was being drawn out of the room. Ariadne suppressed a whine. Just because she looked like a child didn't mean she needed to act like one. Ay least there was coffee.
Ariadne walked behind Arthur and made a beeline for the coffee pot. The smell of it flooded the kitchen. And despite her thoughts on her current attire, she smiled.
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"It's better." She said with her chin up. "Thanks."
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Vivienne ushered them into her garage where her Mercedes-Benz S-Guard was parked. "I'm surprised Viv," Arthur said as he inspected the black car. "Where's the usual Aston Martin?"
"England where I don't have to repair bullet holes as often," she replied as she got into the driver's seat. Arthur opened the back door for Ariadne with one hand while his gun was gripped in the other.
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She ducked down in the back of the car out of instinct.
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She stayed put though, knowing she was out of her league. While she wanted something to do, there wasn't anything. Ariadne needed to learn how to protect herself.
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"I'm on it!" He shouted back as he aimed directly at the driver now that the back window was gone. He breathed out and pulled the trigger. The SUV stopped suddenly and turned over onto its side, rolling down the street at an alarming rate. "Step on it!" Vivienne obeyed when she turned to see the SUV. The light was red, but she ran through it anyways nearly causing an accident.
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