better man/worse than nicotine » arthur ketch

twenty-two: he seems different.

i just had to let you know/swear to god you're beautiful

"What's on the agenda for today?" I ask, leaning my head on Arthur's shoulder. We're in Mick's office, which Arthur seems to have taken over, and we're alone in this section for now. Everyone is off doing whatever he told them to...which is also odd.

            "Well," he pauses, finishing and sending an email. "I have a shifter to attend to."

            "Shifter?" I lift my head from his shoulder. "You have one here?"

            "Captured one, yes," he nods. "We need intel on where the rest of them are."

            I furrow my eyebrows. "And you're expecting a shifter to talk to you?"

            He smiles faintly. "I have my ways."

            "I'm sure you do," I chuckle. "But from my experience with shifters, they're loyal. And sassy sons a bitches. They're not going to talk to you."

            And for some reason, he gets that little mischievous glint in his eyes as I tell him this. As if he's wanting to prove me wrong. As if I am wrong.

            But that's how he is. He has to see it for himself.

            "Would you care to join me?"

            I flash him a tight smile. "Of course." I stand from my chair, taking a step back so he can go in front of me. "Lead the way."

            "Gladly," he replies.

            His pace is brisk, obviously. He's on a mission to prove me wrong and get answers from a shape shifter. A shifter. They don't talk. And he's in for a rude awakening if he believes he can somehow get one to talk, especially when he's got it held captive away from its family. One shifter dying while keeping the rest of the family safe seems perfectly logical to them. And I'll be thoroughly surprised if this one talks.

            When we enter the room where the shifter is held, something immediately changes about Arthur.

            He grabs the pitcher of water from the cart and turns to face the shifter, splashing the water directly on its face to wake it up. Once it catches a glimpse of me, though, it changes almost instantly.

            My arms fall to my side.

            Arthur almost laughs. "I suppose it amuses you to take Joy's form, or perhaps you believe it will inspire some hesitation on my part."

            I stare at him with wide eyes as he turns to the cart, grabbing one of the spikes and studying it. It's clear he has done this one too many times. The look in his eye is not one I would expect to see after one or two rounds with this torture.

            "It will not," he finishes his thought before driving the spike into the shifter's chest.

            I wince, leaning back against the wall as I—the shifter screams. I can't listen to this.

            "If you just tell us where your family is, this will all be over. Promise."

            The shifter laughs, catching my attention. "That eye of yours twitches when you lie."

            Without missing a beat, Arthur replies, "My eye twitches all the time," before landing a punch to the shifter's jaw.

            The monster reels back, changing before our eyes, only this time...it's Arthur's face it wears.

            "Well, I guess I know all about you."

+++

I lean against the wall, checking the notifications on my phone. Dean called while I was in the room with Ketch, but I didn't dare answer it.

            "Hey sis, just uh...I messed up. I'm sorry about what I said, I hope you don't hate my guts too much. You can make your own decisions. But uh...I'm worried. Just call me back when you can. Maybe swing by one day and visit, if you're not too busy." There's a long pause. "Bye."

            I take a deep breath, staring at my phone screen. It took him three days. Three days to call and apologize.

            It's a new record for him, I think.

            I'm teasing.

>Hey. Got your voicemail. I'll call you back later.

>Oh, and I don't hate your guts

            I smile softly as I hit send, stuffing my phone back into my pocket. I'm alone for now, which is different. Ketch said he had to make some phone calls in his office, whatever that means.

            I push myself off the wall, deciding to go find him. And maybe eavesdrop, I haven't decided yet. But when I hear him from down the hall, his voice quiet like he's obviously trying to hide something, I vote for eavesdropping.

            "Well, I can't just send him to your economy comfort, now can I?"

            I press my back against the wall, furrowing my eyebrows. Who the hell is he talking to?

            "The package is in the Armory now. We gave it a lot number." A pause. "1-2-2-5-7, mhm. We'll speak when you get it."

            I hear the phone click in place when he hangs up. I wait a few seconds before rounding the corner, offering my best smile his way.

            He stands from the desk, walking around to greet me by pressing a kiss to my lips. I hold onto his arms and try not to remember how he acted earlier.

            He was under pressure to get answers. He pulls back, smiling gently when our noses brush. He seems to have calmed down now. But he still seems different. I let one of my hands drift up to hold his face, earning a strange look from him. But I brush it off with another smile.

            "You seem off, that's all," I murmur. "Everything okay?"

            He takes a deep breath, grabbing my hand to lace his fingers with mine. "Everything's alright now."

            I hold back a grin. He's okay. "What else do you have to do today?"

            "Oh, a few meetings," he replies. "But I have an hour or two before..." He leans forward and presses another kiss to my lips.

            I start laughing without being able to help it, my hands almost instinctively moving to his tie. "Is an hour enough time?"

            His eyes widen with that mischievous glint. "Is it?"

            I tug on his tie, my nose brushing against his. "We'll see."