The Good Doctor

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Charlotte led Arthur into a room he hadn't yet been in, a large hall with high ceilings and two enormous glittering chandeliers that caught the eye upon entry. Along the wall lined well-dressed men and women in conversation. Dancers had already taken to the glossy floor, gliding with their partners to the music of a string quartet assembled to the left of the entrance.

Charlotte pulled him to an area beneath a painting of a greenery landscape as tall and wide as the wall itself. The doors along the far wall were thrown open to wash cool air over the heated guests. If he had the choice, Arthur would've prefer to step right back outside and avoid this mess altogether.

"Don't worry." Charlotte's hand on his arm tightened. "All eyes will be on the honored couple of the evening."

He had a look around and saw that she was right. All the attention followed Clark and Felicity sharing a dance. Her elaborately sewn gown had a six foot radius on each side, but Clark had skill enough to twirl her around without stepping on it.

Together, he and Charlotte watched the dancers until the song ended. For some reason, the crowd began clapping at the end of the set and Arthur joined in half-heartedly, unsure what the big deal was. Clark and Felicity smiled and bowed in response before taking position for the next number.

The guests who weren't gliding across the floor, stood on the outskirts, gossiping about thems that were. Over what, Arthur couldn't say. He shook his head, dubious. He'd never understood this sort of life and he didn't think he ever would.

As the strings' melody drifted across the room again, beginning the next song, he glanced at Charlotte, heard her humming and realized she might want to be one of them couples dancing.

Arthur cleared his throat. "You wanna, er, go out there?"

Charlotte turned her head to face him, a quizzical look in her features. "Where?"

"You know..." He gestured. "With them other folk."

She pressed her lips together and he swore she was trying not to laugh. "Arthur, are you asking me to dance?"

Agitated, he returned, "I mean, if you want. I ain't sayin'...I don't know...never mind."

Now she did laugh.

"It ain't that goddamn funny." He crossed his arms and looked away from her, embarrassed as all hell. He shoulda known it'd be a stupid idea.

"I'm sorry. Truly." She rested a hand on his arm. "I'm not laughing at you, I swear."

"Like hell you ain't."

"Arthur, look at me."

He did so and her green eyes were sparkling, but not with mockery, as he expected.

Charlotte explained, "You took me by surprise is all."

"Why? 'Cause you know I can't dance?"

"I know no such thing," she chided lightly. Her gaze returned to the dancers. With her next words, her amusement was back and a hint of wistfulness. "I thought my life as a debutante was over and here you are, the last person I expected, trying to pull me back into it."

He grunted, making no comment.

Charlotte faced him again and raised a brow. "Are you interested in dancing, Arthur?"

Maybe he was, soft-hearted fool that he'd become. Weren't so much the dancing itself, but he'd like to have her in his arms.

He grumbled, "Ain't much of a dancer."

"Funnily enough, I never was either." She chuckled and tugged his arms free from their crossed form. "Come. Let's struggle together."

As they walked away from their safe place near the wall, Arthur noticed Charlotte's cheeks started to pinken before she bowed her head. As they faced each other, she glanced around the room with sudden uncertainty.

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