man destroys god || i. malcolm

4

"Joining me after all?" Ian grinned.

"I told you, Malcolm, don't try it." Aria rolled her eyes and turned away, if only to make sure he didn't catch her flushed face. Her efforts were futile, for she met his eyes in the reflection of the window and he saw her exact expression. His grin widened.

The rain began pouring just as the cars rolled forward. Aria couldn't help but be immediately bored at the lack of music or talking. She couldn't sit in a car in silence, she'd never been able to.

Within the silence, it gave her a good amount of time to start feeling increasingly guilty about leaving her kids. They'd be getting pissy by now. Lex first, trying and failing to ignore Tim's constant talking and moving around. Then Tim would retaliate by making it worse. It always fell into a nasty vicious circle with those two. Aria loved them as her own, but when they got left alone together in silence it only took about two minutes for hell to break loose. Gennaro was definitely not handling it well, either. He'd probably yell at them, making the situation worse. God, she hated him.

"You alright over there, Miss Mayfield?" Alan Grant asked, leaning forward to see across Ian, who was squeezed in the middle seat, stuck between the two.

"Hm?" Aria snapped out of her thoughts, realizing that she'd been frowning something fierce and chewing on her lip. Her poker face was deadly. Deadly for her, that is. She'd never been able to hide her emotions from crossing her face. "Oh. I'm fine. Worried about the kids, is all."

"What's there to be worried about? We're on our way back to the visitor center, you'll be with them in fifteen minutes."

Aria appreciated Grant's reassurance, but she knew he didn't really get it. "So, no kids of your own, Dr. Grant?"

"Not really my thing. And it's Alan."

Aria smiled at him, refraining from commenting on how it might be Ellie's thing, and he should just get over it. Ian had been silently observing, drinking from his flask until Alan turned to include him. "You got any kids?"

"Me? Hell, yeah. Three. I love kids."

That was a surprising answer from Mr. Leather Jacket. Sorry, Doctor Leather Jacket. Aria had been expecting that he was a 'hit it and quit it' type. Aria was suddenly very curious. Her initial analysis of the man had instantly been erased and she wanted to know the rest.

"Three?" She couldn't help but implore further.

"Three," He nodded. "Anything at all can and does happen. Same with wives, for that matter."

Alan raised an eyebrow, clearly as surprised as Aria. "You married?"

Aria couldn't hide her curiosity as she 'subtly' leaned forward in anticipation of the answer. Ian noticed. She cursed herself.

"Occasionally."

There it was, her analysis was somewhat correct.

"Yeah, uh, I'm always on the lookout for a future ex-Mrs. Malcolm." He sent a small wink Aria's way. She elected to ignore it. Or try to.

Dr. Malcolm chuckled for a bit, causing Alan to roll his eyes at the man's lack of seriousness. Aria bit her cheek and focused on picking at her fingernails. Anything to help keep her mind away from the man she was leaned up against.

"By the way, uh, Dr. Sattler." Ian took a drink from his flask, offering some to Aria. She took it gladly, eager to have something to ignore where the rest of this conversation was headed. "She's not, like, available, is she?"

Aria tilted the flask back, trying to finish it and ignore the boy talk happening inches away from her.

Alan looked away. "Why?" He asked, a bit too harshly.

"I'm sorry, you two are..." Ian framed it as a statement but it was clearly a question. Grant gave Ian the answer he was expecting. A 'yes'.

Aria knew they were together, everyone knew they were together. Ian wasn't stupid, so did he. But he was nothing if not a meddler, living to annoy everyone around him.

"And you, Miss Mayfield. You're, uh, hitched?"

"What's it to you, Dr. Malcolm?" Aria gritted her teeth.

"Have I offended you, Miss Mayfield?" Ian leaned back in his seat, eyebrows raised.

"Not at all, Doctor. A woman loves to be the second thought." She shrugged.

Alan remained silent, wishing he was anywhere but this car, stuck with an increasingly frustrated woman and an oblivious man. Or maybe he wasn't oblivious, maybe because just didn't care. Yes, that was it.

Ian said nothing, just holding Aria's gaze as she glared into the depths of his soul. "And not that you should care, but no. I'm not married." She finished quickly.

Dr. Malcolm had found the answer he was looking for. He grinned, gently removed the flask from her hands and tossed it in the passenger seat where his jacket was sitting, discarded since midday. As best he could, he turned to face Aria. "Let me make amends, Miss Mayfield, please."

"Oh, quit it."

He captured her left hand in both of his, rubbing light circles on it. "I beg forgiveness, my love. I'm but a simple man and I could never hope to worship you the way you deserve."

Alan gagged.

Aria's eyes widened, but she couldn't pull her hand away. "Malcolm..." She warned.

"Ian." He whispered, raising her hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to her palm before loosening his grip and letting her hand fall from his.

She snatched it back once she'd recovered, eyeing him cautiously. He'd certainly apologized, but she couldn't tell if anything about this man was genuine. What she could tell was genuine was Alan's visible disgust as the entire situation.

She looked away. "Don't these cars go any faster?" She muttered. The sooner she was away from Dr. Malcolm, the better. She was close to in his lap due to the proximity and she wished she'd just climbed into the passenger seat when she got in. It was too late to switch now without putting her ass in his face. Which was the last thing she wanted to do.

Alan must have sensed the discomfort — and whatever other feelings she was experiencing about Dr. Malcolm — rolling off her in waves, so he took one for the team and crawled up to the front seat, mumbling something about making room.

Aria could've kissed him, she was so grateful. But obviously she did not. Once Alan's original seat was open, it was generally expected that Ian would scoot over. Unsurprisingly, he did not.

Aria drew up her legs and gently pushed him away with her muddy — and probably dinosaur shit-covered — shoes. He rolled his eyes and moved into the empty seat. Now Aria had room to breathe. And Alan was free to exist without fear of Dr. Malcolm trying to get it on with the babysitter mere inches away from him.

Aria sat facing the window, watching the rain fall. Alan spoke up, breaking the silence. "Aria, you're a photographer?" He gestured to the camera hanging from her neck.

"You could call it that." She muttered. "I was a photojournalist, until I got fired. So now I'm living off of the kids' mom's money and the rare freelance work I get." Oops, she'd overshared again.

The car lurched, and stopped short.

•

grah