📓 THE TRUTH SEEKER 📓

"Look, if it's any consolation, I won't be upset if you want to go off and do your own thing. I know I'm probably not who you were intending to bid on," he started, before she could dart off upon seeing his arrival. Amélie, on the few occasions he'd seen her, gave deer in headlights energy. "It could also be worse. At least you're not Leyla."

And the last time, she'd escaped before the real trouble found them.

"Sooo, I saw you bid on Amsterdam..." Alexis noted innocently as she sidled up to Amélie. "Are you sure you bid on the one you wanted? There were two of them up for grabs if I remember correctly."

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Maria spotted Amélie off to the side and, not wanting her friend alone, she joined her.

He's about to speak when she sees him, that terribly familiar deer-in-the-headlights look shooting an old arrow straight through his ribs. It's followed by a predictable blush on her cheeks, the same ones he'd so often capture back when they were dating... He holds his glass a little more tightly, grateful to have something else with which to occupy his hands.

"Thank you, had me worried there for a sec." He teases, when she reminds herself audibly that he's allowed to be in a public place with her. "If I'm at risk of any other infractions, I'm trusting you'll let me know before they haul me away in handcuffs."

... Given the theme of the night, it seems the wrong mental image to paint. Gideon struggles on quickly. "Masked men? You're the second person who seems intent on jinxing this thing." Not that she doesn't have cause for concern. His mind travels to a different setting; the Berkeley Estate in Guildford, the chaos that had erupted when Russian mobsters stormed the place, and his absolute fright trying to get his then-girlfriend out in time... It's a sobering reminder of all the reasons they shouldn't be together, all the reasons Amélie was right to break things off with him.

Still, she needn't fear the worst, tonight. She's already got that very Amélie energy about her — to fly into a full panic would be the worst way for her to start a date. And although some selfish part of him protests the thought that she's about to be swept off her feet by some other man, he's not selfish enough to leave her floundering alone beforehand.

"Come on then, let's get you a drink." The Rutherford offers placidly, extending his free hand behind her in invitation, but keeping a careful few inches between his fingers and the bare skin of her back. "And you can tell me about which dates have caught your eye."

Because you're clearly a masochist, the voice in the back of his head deadpans quietly.

She was half-joking, half not.

Gideon had an ability most did not: the way he could calm her pulse down if he so wished, but also the inability to stop the racing thoughts that currently negated that. So many memories were clutching at the edges of her mind, and she did her best to push them back. A smile painted tight.

Two years, and still...not enough time had passed to erase that mark. Had it been branded with fire? And if so, would the scare remain forever? While Amélie wasn't mad at Gideon anymore, she still had this tinge that had been left behind. Pain, it never truly went away.

And pain demanded to be felt.

Amélie's gaze followed the lead of his hand. Amélie remembered his hands well, and like a reminder, a memory — where she'd used to be filled by his touch, and the vacuum of it felt heavier with each passing second.

"A drink. Yes. A drink is... uh, sure...we can, let's — go," babbling while her feet were already moving. Like she could still shut her brain off in his presence, even if the room was crawling with the...others. She felt like a small boat being towed into a harbor by a very handsome, very dangerous tugboat. "And as for the dates... I uh, well...I don't want to go too far from here...y'know...but I might dip my toes into a surrounding, close trip away..." She'd never been fond of travelling far, scared of planes. And frankly? Change. "I just don't wanna not try anything...be so closed off."

"Well, you look like an actual princess. I'm always free for a date if none of the options appeal," she teased, reaching out to squeeze the woman's hand gently in greeting. Nora knew that this situation was likely a little overwhelming. It was important to her that Amélie knew she had someone in her corner. "Speaking of which, if any of the dates do take your fancy, I can be your sugar mama for the night. I don't mind sharing some money for the kiddos, and you deserve a nice getaway ."

Cheeks dusting read, she bowed her head in thanks. "I...I think bidding low might be the best option for me. As much as I'd love to go for some of those dates...flying and me? It has to stay minimal." Amélie arched a brow. "What about you? Any that take your fancy?"

His tone stayed even, steady against the noise around them. Lifting his glass and pointing to the dance floor, "I’ve been looking for something better to do too. Standing around feels like work, and I’m supposed to be off the clock," Oscar eyes flickered toward the dance floor, faint grin returning, "Could always show the rest of them how it’s done, or we find something stronger than the house cocktails. Dealer’s choice."

As damn always.

"I...no, I'm okay...thank you. It's not...you, I just...well, you see, my feet? There's kinda' two left versions of them, and your toes would end up hurt...badly, and I would end up embarrassed -- which ends up in me being beetroot red-- which again? Good for no one." She barely took a breath. "I don’t think I can show anyone how it’s done, and sure as the earth I'm standing on, no one has the ability to teach me. I move like the terminator. And please, don't ask me to do an impression...I'm terrible.. So, I guess that's my way of trying to politely decline your offer...but instead, I talked your ear off for no good reason."

“Ah, the ever-dutiful guest,” he said, voice smooth but carrying just enough weight to make her pause. “Sucking it up, as always… though I might argue there’s a certain art to standing alone and still commanding attention.”

He inclined his head slightly, letting his eyes study her with that faintly dangerous curiosity. “I trust you’re not here merely to be part of the scenery?” (@amescastaignede)

"I...uh, yeah, I really, really don’t think anyone here is paying that much attention to me so I guess you could say I'm here for..." Gideon "Work," She wasn't here for him, not anymore. It didn't stop those intrusive thoughts from slipping in from time to time. Things had quietened down, but when his family was here? It was never easy. And some of them didn't make it so.

"The scenery is what I'm here for..." Obviously not.

She was a reporter after all. They were all aware of her standing.

"I will say though...Hasan, If I’m commanding anything, it’s probably the corner behind me." she gave him a once over. "How about you? What made you want to hang around these...." Criminals. "People."

"I mean...there's always more to do. I have party favors if you want things to get extra spicy. You can hit on one of the many hot men and women here, there are maybe....possibly...some not involved heavily in a faction somewhere??? oh and there's dancing. Which, beside the party favors, is my favorite thing."

Her pulse thudded hard against her ribs. That was not something Amélie could see herself doing unless she downed more of those fruity drinks they were serving behind the bar. And even then...it'd be a push.

"Ah…ha, about that...well, I...hm, I—" The words jammed in her throat. You can speak. You can breathe. Don’t make a scene. "I don’t think I’m… very good at hitting on anyone.” a humourless laugh. "Or party favours.” Cheeks warming instantly. Oh god, this is so damn embarrassing "blooming as she added, "I’m not really the… um… 'spicy' type." maybe this wasn't the person that was going to get her through the night.

Her gaze flicked toward an empty table nearby before she added softly, “Want to sit and catch up? It’s been too long.” She was still finding her footing among the crowd, but being near Amélie made it easier.

Amélie followed her gaze to the seats Ayda was referring to, as she gave a small nod. "That sounds great, it'd be nice to...you know...get away from all of this-- just for a while." she gestured forwards. "Lead the way."

"You know what, you're right." though, she tried to look for the Cheeto the other woman she talking about. Now, that? She had to see. "Bottoms up." raising her glass to Vika. And Amélie threw her head back, and downed the lot.

It wasn't exactly the kind of place he expected to see her...nor did he anticipate that she would actually dress up with quite so much enthusiasm. Colour him surprised, as he stood around looking like he was dressed as security. Ayaz didn't do Hallowe'en.

Even though he was surprised to see her at a Rutherford party, he wouldn't say it aloud. It was probably weighing heavy enough.

"Yeah...it really has," shoulders raising, though the corner of her lip tugged upwards. "Guess I couldn’t stay invisible forever." Looking at Ayaz, she remembered he might be looking at a girl that no longer existed...but she did, deep down. Even if she tried to outrun her every day. "Felicity, uh, well, she said, or better yet, thought it’d be 'good for me' to show up. That usually means she wants to make sure I haven't gone off the deep end...but I'm breathing, and forcing a smile onto my face...sorry, info dump. I'm such a verbal clutz."

Which, thankfully she hadn't gone off the deep end...completely.