ariadneguzman·:
For someone in a job so dedicated to protocol, Ariadne wasn’t really sure what it was in a situation like this. No, scratch that, she knew exactly what to do with missing persons. Missing children. That was displayed very clearly to her, in lines of text on paper, like little soldiers lined up neatly in a row. But things were scattered now, not so neatly — and though Ariadne Guzman has always been erratic, this was out of the realm of leaving dishes in the sink for just one more day, or knowing you didn’t really have to dust the top part of the window frame, just the sill. This was a different beast entirely, and perhaps she had to ignore the metaphor of neat versus scattered, and instead look at it through an emotional view. Which … was hardly an issue for her. She felt hard, always, no matter the situation.
So if it wasn’t erratic, it was empathetic. It was heart-warming in heart-breaking circumstances, to see the turnout of the manhunt. She hated that word. Hunt made them sound like predator, and man … man wasn’t apt. He was a boy, a little boy, and that made it so much worse. She wondered what books he liked, what toys, if kids his age even played with them anymore. Babies she could handle, with gentle coos and bouncing, and teenagers were essentially miniature adults. It’s when things blurred in the middle that they were more confusing. But … there’s a reminder as the tip of her boot scrapes through dead leaves that she’s not shopping for a birthday present. Do his interests matter, now? Will the color of the blanket they give him at the station when — yes, WHEN, she’s speaking into existence — matter? It doesn’t matter if he prefers the Ninja Turtles or the Power Rangers, and the thought of pondering it drifted off in the breeze as it shook the tree branches, and she hears a voice behind her.
Name to face, that’s all she can place, because truthfully — she doesn’t know much of anything about her. Mandy Silverman. Of course, the surname rings more bells than she’d like to bring up in polite conversation. What the fuck was she supposed to say? Hi, I’m Ariadne, your dead dad made me choose my career. Coke or Pepsi? A little insensitive, for lack of a more intense term. Don’t say something stupid, don’t try and comfort. This is Brian, not Phillip. “ No, actually, I … think people see the badge or something and think I’ve got it under control. ” A pause. “ I do, but company is always nice. ”
Once, Mandy would have seen that golden badge and made a beeline for it. She trusted the police - of course she did. Charlie had been a close family friend; and she and Jenny swore when they were nine years old that they were long-lost sisters. But that was before Pete, and her dad, and the whole mess that ‘84 turned out to be. Most of the time she felt like she’d had enough of the police to last a lifetime, if not a few lifetimes. She’d never get back the hours spent in the interview room down at the station, kicking her white sneakers against the chair legs, watching a moth batter itself in the fluorescent light. Endless cups of burnt-tasting coffee. Just a little while longer, okay, honey? And each time the door opened onto the hallway, a poster of Pete was in her direct line of sight.
Mandy realised she’d been quiet for a beat too long, and hastily shot the woman a smile. Guilt ebbed in her throat. All of that had been before this woman’s time. She might have seen it on television, but she wasn’t here, she didn’t make those mistakes. She was absolved of the sins of the place. The least Mandy could do was be nice.
The undertone of playfulness in -- it was Guzman, wasn’t it? Or something like that? -- her tone broadened Mandy’s smile, and she ducked her gaze, embarrassed.
“Yeah, I guess,” she answered, watching a leaf skitter over the toe of her boots. “I wouldn’t know. Good turnout, though.” At length, Mandy made eye contact, and smiled again, the action small. “Cool. Thanks. I was going to go by myself, but two heads are better than one. Figured I’d up my chances hanging around a cop.”
Mandy caught herself. “Shit. That came out... really morbid.”
