and it's all comin' up aces

It doesn't take long for him to find her.

She's not surprised, of course. Henley doesn't really do anything by accident (no magicians do), and she chose this Starbucks precisely because it was the first one she came across when she left the Park at the wee hours of this morning. She knew it wouldn't take him long to come after her. She's noticed the way he's taken to looking at her lately – the same way he used to before she became his assistant – wheels turning behind that fine, focused stare; she knows he is thinking of how to best win her over. Of how to convince her to join him.

This hadn't really been a problem the first time around. She had been young, romanced by the dazzle and spark of J. Daniel Atlas's quick, clever fingers and his even quicker, sharp mind. She knows better now. Or at least she's supposed to.

Henley is sitting at a booth in the back corner when he arrives. She sees him enter over the rim of her coffee cup. He doesn't quite come all the way in, opting instead to stand in the doorway while he sweeps a quick gaze around, acting aloof in that odd way of his…searching without seeming to search.

Their eyes meet across the room.

Henley drops her gaze first.

She doesn't look up again until his shadow falls over her table. One hand is shoved in the pocket of his impeccably pressed dress pants. The other is dangling empty, a little awkward, at his side. The corners of his mouth are tipped up in just the tiniest smile. It's a knowing smile, but also a nice one. He understands she's letting him catch her.

Henley juts her chin up. "Yes?" she says, as if they are strangers.

He nods at the chair across from her. "Mind if I sit?"

She shrugs. He takes the seat, watching her, while she pretends to ignore him and drops her attention instead to the newspaper she was reading before he arrived. The front page is a headline feature on their act of bravado the night before ("Four Horsemen Disappear After Thrilling Final Act") and the article is so long that it continues onto three pages.

"Looks like we're all the rage," he says.

Henley can't help a glimmer of pride. "We certainly gave them something to talk about."

"Yeah, well – it's not surprising. I always give them something to talk about."

She narrows her eyes at him but has to thin her lips to hide her smile. "Always so arrogant."

"It's part of my charm."

They fall into silence. Henley skims the article, schooling her face a façade of calm even though heat is creeping into her cheeks beneath Danny's stare. After a moment, he reaches across the table and takes her hand. She is so surprised that she jumps. Her hand jerks back on instinct but he holds tight, and her gaze leaps to his face.

"Listen," he says quickly before she can say anything, "I just want to put something out there. Just something that I've been, you know, contemplating for the last…let's say, couple months. Just a proposal of sorts. Something I think you'd find attractive."

His hand is warm and dry. She thinks of how she'd reached unthinkingly for the same hand last night. How he'd taken it, without question. Like he'd been waiting all along.

She has to take a moment to gather her words.

"Danny…"

"No, no, just listen. I think this is a good proposal. I think you'll agree with it."

She presses her lips together. "Fine."

"Okay." He seems nervous. He's always had a particular kind of jittery confidence, self-assured in his own restlessness – but today she senses that his buoyancy is something of a front. He seems to a grasping for a bit for the cockiness he so easily wears on every other occasion. The knowledge that she still knows him well enough to read him like this both surprises and disturbs her. She steels herself.

"Yes?" she prompts.

"Well – the proposal is this. It's simple really. I propose that we work together. Again."

It takes a few seconds for the words to sink in. And suddenly, Henley is furious. Furious that she made it so easy for him to find her here. Furious that she had expected more. Furious that she didn't leave when she had the chance. Henley has been charmed by a one-man-show for the second time in her life, and she had genuinely believed she was too smart to fall for the same ending twice.

She yanks her hand out of her his grasp and sweeps up her newspaper and coffee cup in one movement.

"I'm not going to go back to being your assistant, Danny."

"Wait!" He is on his feet. "That's not – you're completely misreading – I'm not finished!"

"Oh yeah?" She cocks a hand on her hip, anger fueling her voice. "So this isn't just about going back to our same routine again? Where I'm in your shadow all the time and you get all the credit?"

He comes close to her, hands gesturing with his signature edginess. "No!"

"Because let me tell you something, Danny." She leans up into his face, so close that she knows he can feel her angry breathing. "I might have been foolish enough to fall for that once but I am not foolish enough to fall for it again. You can have all your blondes and your bimbos, and you can have all your glory. It's a solo show – and it's all yours."

She strides past him, but his hand snakes out and latches onto her wrist.

"Seriously, Henley," he says, and his voice has an edge of bemused urgency to it – "that's not what I was suggesting."

She doesn't drop her guard. "Then what were you suggesting?"

He takes both her hands in his, thumbs smoothing out over her wrists, and despite her anger, Henley feels a shiver. There's always been something about Danny that puts her infinitely at ease. Something that, despite all his arrogance and ego, she has always found both alluring and familiar. He has always had a way of making her feel at home, when the sparkle and pop of the shows are over.

When all they have is their magic and each other.

"I was going to suggest," he says, "that we go back to performing together. But not as a magician and his assistant. I know you don't like that idea, I know that it didn't…it didn't exactly work out, last time. I was thinking something more – mature. Something along the lines of a partnership."

Cautiously, Henley takes the bait. "You mean as a dual act?"

"Yes! Yes. That's – that's exactly what I was trying to say. A dual act. We can be a dual act."

She looks at him. He isn't smiling now. He has dropped all pretense of acting like he controls the game, and is now simply watching her, somber. Intense. He's shown her his hand. It's up to her, to decide the winner.

Henley draws out her deliberation for a moment or two, just to torture him. Then she grips his hands back, lightly. She knows he understands by the way his mouth immediately quirks up in a sudden, unbidden smirk.

"I suppose I could consider working with you," she says.

He comes closer. "I knew I could sell you on this." The arrogance is back.

"You didn't seem so confident a second ago."

"A real master knows how to play the part."

Henley rolls her eyes. She makes to let go of his hands, but he draws her closer instead, bringing her right up against his lean frame. He touches his forehead against hers. Their noses are touching, and their lips brush when he speaks. She can see every dot of hair on the edge of his jawline.

"It's good to have you back," he says.

She tips her head up and kisses him. It's like she remembers – hungry, concentrated, and yet somehow still startlingly tender.

When they finally part for air, Henley allows herself a smile.

The truth is that from the first moment she saw cards fly from Danny's hands all those years ago, she has been completely and irrevocably hooked. He awakens something in her that no one else does – perhaps because he is the only person she has ever loved as both man and magician – and even when she turned her back on him and left to make it on her own, she has always felt him there, watching. Waiting.

She always knew that if she let herself be caught, he would come find her. It was always just a matter of time.

And now, the time is finally right.