dontthinkabout | Arturo y Ariadna ir a un baile (For circularmaze )

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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.

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Ariadne had completely forgotten about the fact she was shirtless. And her she was half rolling around the bed in her panties - merely stretching to wake up. She blinked a few times as her cheeks flushed a deep red.

"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.

"Will do," he said, turning his head slightly. Vivienne was in the kitchen, dressed as if she was ready for another riveting day at the office. The coffee maker was humming as she turned around at the island counter.

"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.

Ariadne hopped off the bed when Arthur came back. The skirt was way past her knees and the flip flops were pretty big as well. So Ms. Perfect had long legs, so what. The fact that Ariadne looked like an orphaned twelve year old did not help matters much.

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.

He tried to keep from laughing at her appearance, instead he simply smiled. "We'll land in Paris at nine in the morning. Hopefully our things will be at your place when we get there. Come on. There's coffee in the kitchen." He took her hand and kissed her palm before pulling her along.

Normally Ariadne wasn't caught up in aesthetics or what she looked like. As long as she looked presentable, she didn't care. But at that moment she didn't look presentable. She looked like no one loved her. And most certainly not her age.

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.

Vivienne had already laid out two mugs filled with coffee as well as little packets of sugar and creamer if Ariadne needed it. She knew Arthur took his black. When Ariadne came out, Vivienne pressed her fingers to her lips and coughed to hide the laugh that was threatening to escape. Arthur shot her a glare, thinking that maybe the mismatched clothes were done on purpose. He wouldn't put it pass her, but she simply shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. "Morning Ariadne, how's the arm?" Vivienne asked pleasantly.

Ariadne was mortified when she walked in and Vivienne 'coughed'. But she wouldn't let it break her. She put some creamer and sugar in the mug and leaned into Arthur's side, taking her place there on purpose and defiantly. Sure, she looked like she just walked out of Arthur's fantasy and in stark contrast, Ariadne looked like she could go begging for quarters out by the road and saying 'please, sir, I want some more' in all Oliver Twist fashion.

"It's better." She said with her chin up. "Thanks."

Arthur watched the exchange. He drank the coffee quickly so that they could make their way to the airport. "Oh Artie, almost forgot, I just checked the surveillance. There's been an SUV circling the area for the past fifteen minutes," Vivienne commented. Knowing Vivienne, he was sure it wouldn't be a problem for her to lose the tail.

She sipped at the coffee and listened to the two of them. "So when are we leaving?" Ariadne asked, inwardly cringing at his nickname. Really, it was horrible.

He checked his wristwatch. "The jet should be ready for us by now." He turned to Vivienne. "We'll have to make a dash, though I'm sure you can handle it." She smiled at him with her perfectly straight teeth and laid a hand on his wrist. "You know me too well."

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.

Ariadne followed a little awkwardly behind them, holding up the skirt with one hand. She slid in the back, feeling entirely out of place. Vivienne was clearly the female version of Arthur and Ariadne who knew how different she was from his normal type was clearly out of place.

She ducked down in the back of the car out of instinct.

The garage door slid open as well as the iron gate. Vivienne backed out and onto the street. The SUV was nowhere to be seen, but Arthur was no less cautious as he looked around. She put the car into drive and started on the street in the direction of the highway. Just then there was a gunshot, Arthur whirled around, opening the window and aiming his gun at the SUV that was on their tail. He pulled the trigger, but the car swerved out of the way.

Ariadne naturally hit the floor. She seriously needed to learn how to operate a weapon and not just in dreams. It was moments like these she needed the experience. Though personally she had her fair share of guns and bullets.

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.

The SUV sped up and bumped the back of the Mercedes. "Goddammit," Vivienne hissed under her breath. "Can you get those assholes before they totally ruin my car? I actually like this one," she said as she sped up. Arthur aimed again and shattered their front window exposing the driver as well as the passenger. Two were in the backseat. Vivienne swerved to afraid a pedestrian who jumped out of the way just in time. Arthur pulled the trigger twice and got the front seat passenger in the forehead. One of the guys in the back settled in between the two front seats and aimed at the Mercedes. Arthur ducked before he can reload his gun as the back window shattered. "Arthur!" Vivienne shouted.

"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.

Ariadne was sprayed with glass when the windshield was blown out. She was subsequently thrown to the other side when she swerved like a potato in a bin. She couldn't help but groan. But when Arthur said to go, she popped her head up.

And Arthur was going to be there for weeks. Fuck.

Once they made it onto the highway, Arthur turned to Ariadne. "Are you okay?" He pushed her hair back to look at her face. There were no visible injuries, no blood, but glass was spread out around them. Vivienne looked at Arthur in her rear view mirror.

"Everyone back there okay?" She asked. Arthur nodded as his eyes met hers in the mirror.

Ariadne was half sprawled on him. She slid off of him and looked up. There was fear in her eyes. She fixed her skirt that had fallen down and tried to situate herself.

"'M fine." Ariadne said looking over at Vivienne before turning back.

She took Arthur's hand in hers and looked up at him, her hair falling in his face. There was still worry. He had to come back to this. She wasn't happy; there was an ache in her chest.

He hated the look on her face, the one of worry. He pressed his hand to her cheek and gave her a look. One that said "Don't worry," but he knew she will. And then there was the fact that he had just killed. It weighed heavy in his gut, but there were more important matters.

They arrived at the airport quickly. Arthur helped Ariadne out of the car, being careful so that she wouldn't cut herself on the glass. Vivienne got out as well and came around to the other side. "Call me when you land?" She asked. Arthur nodded.

Ariadne just looked up and nodded. She got out of the car and instinctively took Arthur's hand. She was there for him as much as she could, which wasn't nearly as much as he was there for her.

She looked up at him and then to the jet. "Thank you, Vivienne. For everything." Ariadne said to her. Even if her clothes were horribly mismatched. At least they were clothes.

And when it all boiled down to it, she was the one holding his hand.

"You're very welcome, Ariadne. And don't worry about the clothes, you can keep them," she added with a smile. Vivienne turned to Arthur. "Vuelve a mí cuando haya terminado con ella." His face hardened, but he didn't say anything. Now was not the time or place for that. "Goodbye Vivienne, and thank you." She gave him a smile despite his tone.

He tugged Ariadne along as a flight attendant greeted them at the stairs that led up to the cabin. Arthur wanted nothing more than to go back to Paris even though he knew he'll be back here in a few days.

Well that was rude. And Ariadne had every intention of giving the clothes to the poor when she got back to Paris. The sooner, the better.

She hurried along to her seat and leaned back in her seat. Soon she'd be on her way home. That's what mattered and with Arthur. But it was still bugging her. Ariadne sat straight up and looked at him. A hand went out to gesture. Which was never a good sign. "What'd she say, Arthur?" She asked.

Arthur followed her into the plane and sat down on the seat next to her. When she asked what Vivienne had said, he debated with himself about whether he should lie and say it was nothing or tell her the truth. He chose the latter although he knew it wasn't a good idea. "She said...she said 'come back to me when you're done with her.'" He then occupied himself with fastening his seatbelt.

Oh, really? Was that what she said? Ariadne's look could probably kill at that moment. She was furious. Livid. What little self control she was managing to keep had gone straight out the window. And now both hands were out, ready to gesture and palms up.

"What a cunt. Can I just say I do not like her? Ugh, fuck her. I mean really. What kind of person says that? That's what you talked about then last night? I knew it. The way she looked at you. It's like the way I look at you. What a jealous bitch. I can't believe. No, actually I can. Because she's everything I'm not you know. And these clothes? I'm fucking burning them." Her hands stopped moving. She was done with the tirade, for now.

He didn't make any sudden movements for fear of causing more anger to boil over in her. He held his breath and when she was done speaking, he expelled it slowly. "Ariadne," he said her name slowly. "You don't have to worry about anything concerning Vivienne and me. What happened between us happened a long time ago. It's not her that I care about, it's you—" Arthur stopped himself after what he admitted. Luckily, the flight attendant came around and told them to turn off their cellphones for take-off. He got his out of his pocket and subsequently turned it off.

Ariadne's cellphone, purse, wallet, passport, and clothes were all left behind. She looked up tersely at the flight attendant. She grumbled and turned back to Arthur.

"If it's her you want, then tell me. Because you're coming back here and I won't be with you. It's not that I don't trust you, Arthur. I trust you with everything. My life, my heart. I don't trust her. And I know I'm not your type. I'm short and artsy and generally unkempt. I'm pushy and loud and very opinionated. I don't have long legs and huge boobs. I'm just me." She sighed looking down. "But I care about you, too. And I'm just scared. If she's your only contact in Argentina and she can keep you safe... I mean I can't even keep myself safe."

She gestured to the bandage. She felt miserable now. Why did she go to Buenos Aires? This was not at all how she thought it would end. And being so open and vulnerable with Arthur was just as frightening. But she did trust him. She looked up at him slowly through her bangs. Ariadne was always one to wear her heart on her sleeves, but her eyes always spoke volumes.

Edited 2010-11-07 08:34 (UTC)

Arturo y Ariadna ir a un baile (For circularmaze )

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