Chapter 11

"We cling to music, to poems, to quotes, to writing, to art

Because we desperately do not want to be alone. We

Want to know we aren't going crazy and someone else out there

Knows exactly how you're feeling. We want someone

To explain the things we can't."

-Unknown

Natalia got a message from Jack in the afternoon with two simple words, 'He knows.' She knew he meant Fielding now knew that Jack was her fiancé, but the foreboding words still made her giggle, drawing Nikolai's attention and bringing him to her side as Nina danced, keeping the director's attention from the two friends as they whispered to each other.

"Natalia, dear, you're being a bad ballerina giggling over here." He informed her, dipping his head down to catch what she was reading.

She grinned up at her tall friend, "Jack told Fielding we were engaged. Now, I don't have to worry about being pursued by him!"

Nikolai raised the eyebrow over his mostly blue eye, "But, we're still going to the fancy party tonight, aren't we?"

"Were you invited?" She inquired. Nikolai was the only one she'd told about Jack's secret assignment, trusting the fact that he rarely gave anything away to begin with and that he hated talking to just about anyone but her. But, she didn't think Fielding would invite a male ballerina, mostly because his dinner party guests would probably all be males looking to mingle with ballerinas.

Her friend gave a smug smirk that pulled up only one corner of his mouth, revealing a dimple that was rarely seen given his infrequent smiles, "Would I pass up mingling with a group of rich men, Natalia?" He purred lowly.

Her brows drew together, "Well, no…"

His face went back to his perfected bored look, "So, I wrangled an invite from an acquaintance. I'll escort you since your man is on the job."

Natalia's grin spread back across her face as she enjoyed the sound of Jack being called her man. Knowing Fielding knew she was taken and that Nikolai would be with her, the thought of her evening no longer turned her stomach. She actually felt a bolt of excitement at the thought of fine dining and seeing Jack. Even if every other man proved to be a bore, Nikolai was always there to gossip with about whatever happened.

"Wow." Natalia murmured as their carriage halted in front of the grand manor. She wasn't exactly sure where in the city they were, but the street was lined with houses that were twenty times larger than the small apartment she'd grown up in St. Petersburg. Maybe even bigger.

"I've been asking around. Your Fielding has made his family very rich. They were maybe middle class until the mid-1890s when he began to use family contacts to import exotic animals for the Bronx Zoo." Nikolai informed her as he stepped out of the carriage and helped her out. "You look ravishing, dear." He added, casting his mismatched eyes over her appreciatively.

She glanced down at the green silk gown with the black lace overlay, her free hand smoothing it out as they walked towards the front door as another carriage pulled up behind them. She heard the giggles and quick, Russian conversation that proceeded more ballerinas, "Thank you. You seemed to know what I would wear." She looked pointedly at his black suit that he'd paired with an emerald green shirt instead of the traditional white.

His eyes glimmered with humor that he disallowed to show along his mouth as he looked at her, "I'm going to match the most beautiful woman here and stand out while doing it." He replied, halting her gently before the stairs up to the huge house, allowing the ballerinas to pass ahead of them.

"Natalia, dear, there's one thing you are forgetting before we go in there." Nikolai told her quietly as the door opened for the girls and they both looked up as the brightness and noise filtered out to them for just a fleeting moment before the door shut and they fell back into darkness. She didn't say anything, just waited with a cocked eyebrow until he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, wooden box. "It was my mothers'." He continued, almost shyly, as he opened it and though it was dark, the ring caught what little light there was and reflected it, causing her to gasp.

"Oh, Nikolai, it's beautiful." It was a little more extravagant than she'd like in a real ring, but eye-catching nonetheless. It was a marquise ring with a center green stone and diamonds clustered around it on a gold band. "But, what's it for?" She asked, blinking up at him.

He chuckled as he took the ring out of the box and reached for her left hand, sliding the ring firmly into place on her third finger, "You're fake engaged, Natalia, you need a fake engagement ring."

She stared down at the ring, her mouth agape at the heavy weight of it on her finger, "Nikolai, no. This is your mother's ring! What if I lose it?" Her gaze sharpened on his face as he looked at her almost tenderly.

"You'll take care of it, Natalia. Now, let's go take this party by storm." He waved away her protests and winked before pulling her forward, up the stairs, and to the front door where he smirked as he used the elegant iron knocker to signal their arrival.

Natalia smiled at him as she turned her attention to the party that the opening door was revealing, the brightness of the large foyer dazzling her for a minute as she tried to absorb the grand chandelier, the finely dressed men, and the miles of elegant marble that seemed a part of every aspect of the house. As her eyes adjusted to the light, they skimmed over the doorman, the guests, and even their host and Jack as they were immediately drawn to the vividly painted art that hung on the far wall, right between the two staircases that curved down on either side. The painting was one as familiar to her as her own heartbeat and she was awestruck at finding it here, in this home, "Nikolai." She gasped, completely distracted, "It's Ondine."

Nikolai raised his dark eyebrow, gaze briefly looking at the art without much interest before drawing her into the house and leading her to Fielding even as she kept her eyes trained on her favorite painting. The first one she'd ever fallen in love with, the painting she'd never seen in real life except in a book of English Paintings her father acquired while buying a mix of boxes to sell in his secondhand shop. "Mr. Fielding," Nikolai greeted, pinching Natalia's arm that was looped through his, "Thank you so much for the invite this evening. I'm Nikolai Kostova and you already know Natalia?"

She finally pulled her gaze from the painting, smiling easily at Harold Fielding before reaching her hand out for him to kiss as he did on Saturday, "Pleasure to see you again, Mr. Fielding." She told him, eyes flickering briefly to Jack and nearly doing a double take as she saw how well-dressed he looked in his suit. Though it wasn't as tailored-to-fit as the other men's', he stilled looked dangerous and debonair, with his brown hair neatly combed back in the style that was common of the upper class. He gave her a slow wink that brought a wide smile as she added, "I hadn't realized on Saturday that you would be hiring my fiancé."

She was still slightly distracted by the painting and Jack that she almost missed the way Fielding's gaze got chilly at the mention of his new bodyguard. "Yes, Mr. Knight here told me this afternoon. I find it interesting that the two of you are already engaged after such a short time of knowing each other."

Ignoring the fake last name, and the jab at the validity of their engagement, Natalia decided to appear like the bubbly blonde so many assumed her to be when they first met her, "Our time together has been short but it's been spectacular and we didn't want to waste any more time." Jack had mentioned he'd been afraid his charm wouldn't work on this man, but Natalia knew hers would, "I apologize, Mr. Fielding, but I must know…I've been dazzled by that Waterhouse painting between the stairs. Is it an original?"

Her subject change and charm was the key to softening up the rich, blonde man before her. "You are familiar with John William Waterhouse, Ms. Malakhov?" Fielding's blue eyes grew warm as his interest renewed and he gazed at her in a new light, "I always say you can judge the quality of a woman if she knows her art."

She felt the blush rise up her neck as she gazed back longingly, "I like art better than dancing most days." She admitted, honestly, her voice a bit wistful.

"Come, I'll show you it to you up close." He insisted, offering his arm as Nikolai passed her an unreadable look.

Eager to see it up close, she gave her friend a smile and took Fielding's offered arm, "Thank you Nikolai, but I must insist upon seeing it this instant." She gave him a cheeky smile as she all but pulled Fielding towards the painting. Nikolai, however, wasn't to be brushed off so easy, simply choosing to clasp his hands behind his back and follow behind her a pace or two.

When Fielding stopped in front of the painting, she could feel his blue gaze on her as she stared up in utter awe. "Ondine's were said to be water nymphs." He murmured to her as she got a close-up view of the texture of the oil paint used.

"They lack human souls." She informed him, reaching out to touch it but stopping her hand inches before doing so and grinning at him, "They must marry human men to achieve immortality."

Fielding cast a dark look back at Jack, who was listening intently, "If the man should be unfaithful, he dies."

Natalia laughed, the sound cutting through the chatter and noise, "Do not tease, Mr. Fielding. You'll scare off Mr. Knight and then where will I be?"

Harold Fielding looked as though he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he held his tongue, "Do not fret, dear, unless you're admitting being a water nymph?"

She gave a half-smile, "If I could swim, perhaps I could pass as one. My father saw this painting in a book, though, and he told me he regretted not naming me Ondine since I'm the only child who inherited my mother's blonde hair."

A voice cut between them before Fielding could reply, "My lady, I heard your laughter from across the room and knew I had to join the group that was having the most fun." They all turned to the smiling, auburn haired man who inclined his head to Fielding before his green-eyed gaze caught Jack just behind him, "Jack! What a pleasant surprise!" He stepped forward to shake Jack's hand fervently, "Race told me you got a new job, wasn't aware it was babysitting." He winked at Fielding, who seemed to be grinding his teeth.

"Renwick, glad you could make it." Fielding said, shaking the man's hand and looking just a touch disgusted that it was after he'd shaken Jack's. "This here is Natalia Malakhov and Nikolai Kostova, two of Russia's finest ballerinas. And this is Scott Renwick, who has had more drinks poured on him by women than any other male in this room." That caused a chuckle from all of them, even Scott, who took the jab congenially. Natalia immediately liked his good-naturedness, finding him entertaining and wholesome.

And not bad on the eyes, she thought, as Scott Renwick's green eyes glittered with humor at Fielding's anecdote as he reached for Natalia's hand and laid a chaste kiss across the back of it, "Wonderful to meet you, Natalia." He turned to her friend, shaking Nikolai's hand, his gaze sharpening as he took in the tall, muscular ballerina as he greeted him, "Nikolai, what a unique combination of heterochromia."

She gave Nikolai a side glance, gauging his reaction to the red-head before them and was surprised to see something like wonder on Nikolai's usually bored face, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Renwick." He rumbled, eyes slowly trailing down Scott's lean build before flicking back up, "Excuse me, I need a refreshment. Would you like anything, love?" Nikolai inquired, turning to her.

Lightly fanning herself, she passed him a quick smile, "Yes, please, Nikolai. Champagne. Thank you, dobroserd." Dear heart.

Scott looked to Jack and Fielding, "I'll show you where they are." He told Nikolai, nodding to both men before leading Nikolai through the crowded mansion.

"Love?" Fielding asked, casting a side-eyed glance to Jack, "You and Nikolai seem quite close." He didn't phrase it as a question.

Natalia chuckled and answered it like one anyway, "We get that a lot. Nikolai and I have been friends since we were ten years old. He's like a big brother to me." She turned back to the painting and sighed wistfully, "I meant to see the original of Ondine while we were in London, but the Waterhouse collection in the Society of British Artists was closed the entire time we were there."

Fielding gazed at the painting, too, "My father saw the original while visiting London in 1880 and told me of it. I commissioned another artist to make me a copy. Although it's not the original, it's pretty close to it." His pride shone blatantly on his face as his chest puffed out. It irritated Natalia when in the past she would have swooned over his confidence and obvious ego. It was strange that everything she used to like in a man now seemed to sour in her stomach. She looked briefly to Jack and caught the uneasiness hiding in his hazel eyes.

She smiled to him, hoping he could see she wished to assure him but then she looked back to the painting and her eyes caught the artists' signature. Her eyebrows furrowed as she suddenly remembered why the Waterhouse collection was closed. She bit her lip to keep her thoughts to herself, gaze returning once more to Jack's hazel eyes, "Jack, how is it you know Mr. Renwick?" She asked, "He mentioned Race?" Race was a name she was only familiar with because of Nina, but despite the fact that he worked at the Benjamin, Natalia couldn't recall a face along with the name.

Jack's eyes flickered to Fielding before he spoke for the first time that night, "Race is his brother-in-law. He married Scott's twin sister, Clara."

Fielding looked at Jack, a new gleam apparent in his blue eyes, "You know the hotel worker Ms. Renwick married?"

"Mrs. Higgins now, but yeah. Known him and the owner for years." Jack's voice wasn't rude, but clipped as though he didn't want to give the man too much information.

"David Jacobs?" Fielding asked, curiously, "That's a hard man to know. He rarely shows up to the events he's invited to and he doesn't seem inclined to rub elbows with the sort of people a man of his status should." The reproof and blatant arrogance in his words made Jack and Natalia share a glance.

Jack seemed to visibly bite back a scathing retort, "I don't exactly have any influence over who Dave chooses to rub elbows with, sir." It looked like he tried very hard to make his voice sound meek and yielding, like a hired bodyguard should sound, but he didn't quite hit the mark.

"Oh!" Natalia exclaimed, sensing she needed to quickly change the direction of their conversation and spying another painting she was familiar with, conveniently located near Nikolai and Scott, "Mr. Fielding, is that an Aivazovsky?"

She succeeded in drawing his attention from Jack and he followed her gaze to the scenic landscape over near the table lined with drinks, "Good eye, Ms. Malakhov." He purred, pulling her across the room, Jack a few steps behind like the dutiful employee he was hired to be.

Her eyes caught Nikolai's from where he was near the painting, staying in place as he watched them move towards him and seeming to read the slightly panicked look on her face. He quirked a dark eyebrow at her, a bit of amusement hiding in his two-toned eyes. She watched as Scott Renwick said something to her friend and was surprised by the red flush that crawled up his neck, and the smile that bloomed across his face nearly made her trip on their way to them.

"Here's your champagne." Nikolai said, ignoring Scott to hand her the crystal flute full of the bubbling, pink liquid.

"Thank you." She told him, nearly downing it in one gulp. She felt Harold Fielding's eyes on her, crystal blues hard like cut glass but alight with the flame of desire. It unnerved her rather than setting her own desire on fire and she looked at Jack from the corner of her eye.

He was watching Fielding with his own set of hard eyes, though his hazel ones were anything but cold. She could tell Fielding's interest in her was putting him on edge, though, and she wondered if there was a way to bow out of this evening early. But, before she could follow through on that idea, dinner was announced and they moved with the crowd to the dining room.

Fielding took the initiative to seat her and waved Jack over to the corner for the meal, knowingly putting him in his place as he began to ask Natalia about her interest in art. She found herself falling back onto her old self, the one pre-Jack, pre-New York, and she let that party girl partially take control. Enough to be charming and engaging, but she knew she was missing the flirtyness she was known for. Even the other ballerinas noticed, whispering to each other in Russian because none of the men understood them and knowing Natalia wouldn't call them out and make a scene.

Even though many of the ballerinas couldn't speak English, they managed to laugh and pretend they understood the men, often struggling with easy English 'yes' and 'no's or the ones close by looking to Natalia for a translation. The dining area was alive with the chatter, laughter, and clinking of utensils on china. Natalia ignored the whispered gossiping, focusing instead on the host who only had eyes for her, and keeping an eye on Nikolai to her left, who was sitting across from Scott Renwick; the auburn-haired man engaging with her friend far more than the women on either side of him.

It became fairly clear why women often threw drinks at poor Mr. Renwick. He was charming to everyone but the ladies around him. The two ballerinas looked miffed he wasn't singing them praises or complimenting them. Both ended up turning away from him to talk to the men on their other side, leaving Scott to happily chat at Nikolai, who offered up a few words but let the redhead lead in the conversation.

For the first time in a long time, it looked like Nikolai was actually enjoying himself and Natalia felt a bloom of hope for her friend. If she had to endure this awful evening over and over again for the sake of seeing him almost smile, she knew she would.

Even if it meant she needed to do some serious repairs to her relationship with Jack. As she considered that, she turned her head to glance back at where he stood, leaning casually against the wall, and he met her gaze steadily for a moment. The smile he then gave her looked strained, but he winked slowly and she felt a thrill run up her spine. She blew him a kiss, aware of Fielding's narrowed gaze on her, and giggled when he caught it and placed his hand on his chest.

When she turned back to Fielding and caught the fury in his light eyes, she hoped her little scene hadn't caused Jack his job.

A/N: Omg, I'm so sorry guys. This is so late on a number of reasons and mostly because this damn chapter didn't want to end and also because I've been side tracked by school and my new Riverdale fic. But, I'm back and WordyAF has been coaching me through everything because she's glorious and thank you, thank you all for being patient and sticking with me! I have about 9 days before my final semester begins and I'm hoping to update as much as I can in that time! Okay, cutting long authors note off. Love and thanks to everyone reviewing, reading, favoriting, and following! Love you all! 3 I hope this long chapter made up for it a tiny bit!

Truly,

Joker is Poker with a J~