Shot Ten: Disobedience At Its Finest.

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"You know what I really wanna do?" I asked Mr. Ambrose one night while looking at my nails. He didn't answer so I went on. "I really would love to drink those pig ears again from that tavern."

"I'm sure you would. But I'm not allowing it. You do remember the last time, do you not?"

"Of course I do. And like I said the first time it came across us, back on Urania and after retrieving the file, it was fun. I want to do it again."

"No."

"You're no fun. Did you know?" He didn't reply. Sighing, I stopped looking at my nails and turned to look at the only view I had: Mr. Ambrose. Much to my disappointment to say the least.

"Why are there no windows? It's a strange carriage, don't you think?"

"The windows are covered with curtains." was all he said.

"Oh. Well I feel stupid saying that."

"Frankly, I'm not surprised." I narrowed my eyes at him before pulling back the curtain nearest me and looking out at the city that was Alexandria. I sighed again, wishing I could be a million miles away from this no-fun bastard next to me. But alas, that wasn't gonna happen for a while.

§ • §

"We've got a bit of an approach." Mr. Ambrose said as we got back into the carriage.

"How much is 'a bit' exactly?" I asked. Considering that I was kicked out yet again right before the information was given, I had to wait until Dick came out of the building or tent or whatever it was.

He didn't answer me but ordered the driver to drive. I asked again but still no response. I waited a little bit, pulling out my fan and asked him once more. No answer. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath.

"Are smack! you smack! ever smack! going smack! to smack! give smack! me smack! an smack! answer!?" smack smack!

No reaction. I smacked him harder with my fan again, and this time he grabbed my wrist, plucked out the fan, tossed it out the window and kept my wrist in his grasp until we got back to the hotel. And during that entire time I was struggling to free my wrist but with no luck.

"You complete chauvinistic son of a bachelor!" I hissed. "God I hate you!" With that I stopped struggling and scooted as far away from him as I could, which, admittedly, wasn't far at all.

Upon reaching the hotel, Mr. Ambrose practically dragged me inside and up the stairs to our suite. "Stay here," he said, throwing me inside before leaving. Harrumphing, I got up and walked over to my bedroom slamming the door shut.

§ • §

An hour and a half passed but Mr. Ambrose had not yet arrived. I really wanted to go downstairs and see if I could find the delicious pig ears again. Of course, I had a feeling they were only available at the tavern back in East End, London. Nonetheless, I went downstairs to find something else.

How on earth am I going to get something to drink? I thought looking around. My eyes landed on the bar and wondered if something were to happen if I went and asked for a drink. But before I could walk towards the bar, I heard music.

Turning, I saw a couple walk out of a set of grand doors where the music seemed to be coming from. I walked towards the doors and as soon as I stepped in, dresses, music and men in suits engulfed me.

As I walked on the sidelines, I saw to a distance women and men both drinking and waiters moving amongst them. I grinned, finally finding a way to quench my thirst for alcohol.

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