Walking down the Las Vegas strip, Hamilton's slightly wild, though parted, hair ruffles in the wind  as he buttons his new grey suit. The days were hot, but the nights? The nights were cool- something he was much more comfortable with, coming from New York. As he turns the corner, he can't help but stand in awe for a moment at the bright lights illuminating this desert wonderland of possibilities. He freezes for a moment, struck by this tableau of ostentation and extravagance until he notices a beautiful young woman wearing a turtleneck and a long gypsy skirt walking in his direction. He leans against the lamppost next to him and, when she's in range, flashes an easy grin at her.

Having scoped out the crowd on the strip, she sees a crisp new suit and thinks, mark. Making a beeline in his direction, she has to slow her pace as she nears since he seems to have stopped to admire the view. Turning more fully in her direction,  he leans against a nearby lamppost and smiles.

He's ridiculously handsome. So much so that it gives her momentary pause. But she's low on cash and needs money for a room to sleep in tonight, so she commits.

Smiling in return, she comes to a stop in front of him. 

"Gosh. Sure hope that smile's aimed at me," she says, trying for coy. "Ariadne," she says, extending her hand, fully intending to slip off his watch during the impending handshake.

Hamilton reaches out and, avoiding the handshake, takes her hand in his and presses his warm lips against it as he looks up at her.

"Hamilton. The pleasure is mine. And your name is... fascinating. Did you choose it yourself? Or do you happen to have parents who enjoy a good story?"

The guy was on to her. Or just a ladies' man out for a good time. Either way, it was hard not to fall into the oceans in his eyes. And really, did she have anything better to do?

"The birth certificate says Adrienne, but when I left Seattle, I decided to start anew. 'Ariadne' was a recommendation from...a very special someone," she says. Very special, indeed. 

"And your name? Parents must be history buffs. Or teachers, maybe?"

He gently releases her hand. 

"Adrienne. I like it just as much, although it certainly doesn't have the... flair of Ariadne. As for my own moniker, I chose it- based on some remarkable similarities between myself and the man who wore it before me. Perhaps you'd be interested in hearing those curious similarities or telling me about Seattle over a drink or two?"

Placing a gentle hand on the small of her back for the briefest of moment, he begins slowly walking and Ariadne finds herself following him.

Trying to keep pace in her heels, Ariadne follows Alexander along the strip. As they exchange small talk on their way to one of Vegas' many venues, she does what she's always done. Scans the crowd. Opportunities were everywhere here, which is why she'd come to Nevada. Glancing at Alexander's face, she sees...the same behavior happening right next to her.

Suspicions confirmed. A bit deflated, she decides to at least get a drink out of it. As they step into the lobby bar of one of the newer hotels, she wonders if she can't...barter...for a chance to play ball in his league. Surely he knew some people?

Guiding Ariadne with the lightest of touches on her back, Hamilton leads her to a table in the back where he could sit with a wide view of the entrances. The waiter approaches and Hamilton defers to his companion.

"So. What are you drinking?"

Ariadne looks at Alexander, and then the waiter.

"Whiskey, neat. Please."

Turning back to Alexander, she rests a hand under her chin. "So. Tell me about these similarities. Because looks aren't one of them," she says, quirking a brow. 

Hamilton leans back, unbuttoning his jacket to reveal the crisp, shining white shirt underneath. Turning his head slightly, he addresses the waiter.

"Although you poke fun at him, I hear the my namesake was very popular with women. Perhaps too popular. That's one of the similarities I mentioned. Let's see...

As he ticks off the reasons on his fingers in between them, Ariadne notices that although the clothes are new,  his hands are rough: the hands of a man who has done physical labor.

"Both born in the Caribbean. Both orphaned young. Both traveled to New York to make our fortune. Both well read and intelligent, although not nearly as much as we think we were. And are, in my case."

He glances up and reaches out to accept their drinks, placing Ariadne's down in front of her. 

"And... that's where the similarities end, fortunately or unfortunately. I probably won't become as famous, but I also hope to avoid dying in a duel. Although who knows, right?"

He raises his drink to toast.

"Here's to long days and pleasant nights."

"Poke fun? Not at all. But if we stood you next to the man I've seen in history books, there isn't a single woman on the strip that wouldn't lean in your direction. 

"To pleasant nights, indeed," she says as she lifts her glass and drinks deeply, never breaking eye contact.

Hamilton winks at her before staring back with his bright blue eyes.

"Be careful, dear. Flattery will get you everywhere."

He stretches his legs out under the table, brushing against her ankle as he raises his drink to his lips with a smile.

"My apologies. I seem to be very clumsy tonight."

Ariadne smiles."I'm hard pressed to believe you're clumsy at anything, Mr. Hamilton."

She really should be out there hustling. It was late afternoon, and she needed to put together enough cash for a room tonight or she'd find herself digging coins out of the hotel fountains. Again.

"Well. Nobody's perfect..."

He seems to leave what he was going to say unfinished.

"... so what brings you here all the way from Seattle? Based on what I've read I'm thinking... rain. And not much else. Would that be why?"

A frown creases her brow, then is gone. "I was...asked to leave. My parents thought I was a bad influence on my younger brother," she says, opening a locket around her neck. Inside, the left half shows Ariadne, and the right, a teenage boy with a strong resemblance to the woman sitting next to him. "If I was the upstanding sort, I would have done the same. I've had several run-ins with Seattle's finest," she says with a lopsided grin. In that moment, Alexander knows her brother has a smile that matches hers.

Hamilton resolutely keeps his eyes trained on the locket as she displays the picture. He continues to drink as he replies.

"Seems like there's a similarity that we have in common. I also happen to be avoiding some heat- and this town seems perfect for a fresh start. I had to make a... well, let's call it a tactical retreat... from New York."

As if he'd not been interesting enough, Alexander just piqued her curiosity even more so. "Is that right," she says, more statement than question. He'd been at this longer, and was out of her league, but she had nothing to lose. "Maybe we could, I don't know...work together? I'm sure you could use me." Realizing what she's just said, she stammers out an even more embarrassing claim. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm pretty good." Stop. Talking. Now. "You should see me in action." Oh God, SHUT UP! Picking up her drink, she finishes its contents and wishes she'd been born without a tongue. 

Hamilton chuckles softly as Ariadne continues speaking. But he looks at her a little differently now.

"And what is it that you do, Ariadne? And how do you know you'd be an asset to me, without knowing what I do? Not that I don't want to see you in action..."

The liquor is stinging in her gut. She hadn't eaten since breakfast. Whatever this was, or wasn't, with Hamilton, she needed to get to work. She'd never slept outside like a hobo, and she wasn't about to start. "I'm about to nearly choke to death on a handful of cocktail peanuts. You're going to make a very large, very loud scene and save me in the nick of time. In order to uphold their lovely atmosphere and reputation, they'll comp us the drinks and, if we're lucky, a room. If not, we leave here distressed, and 'accidentally' forget to pay. Trust me," she says, eyes glimmering a bit from the booze. "As long as you don't pull this stunt in the same place twice, it's all good."

Hamilton finishes his drink quickly, a gleam in his eyes. He murmurs under his breath.

"Perhaps I will be able to use you. Ready when you are."

Giving him a very real, very approving grin, she murmurs back. "Will you still respect me in the morning?" before tossing a few peanuts into her mouth and launching into a fit of coughing spasms. Standing up with a look of complete terror on her face, she gasps loudly before holding her breath. Their waiter rushes over, along with the bartender on duty. They stand there stupidly as Ariadne's face turns red and she scrabbles at her neck with her fingertips, drawing a bit of blood. Taking that as a queue, Alexander steps behind her and whacks her ungently on the back until the offending peanut flies out, landing on the table in front of them. A stray tear slides down her cheek as she looks up at her savior. "You saved my life. I could have died right here in a Vegas bar but you saved my life," she says, ever the consummate actress. She continues to gush loudly, and a couple other bar patrons have stood, now applauding Hamilton's efforts. The afternoon hotel manager, hearing the noise, walks in quickly and, seeing the small cluster at the table, makes his way over. 

"What's happened here, folks?" As the waiter tells him, a slight look of alarm passes over his features. Happy ending or no, he didn't want this getting around. "Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry! How fortunate that you knew what to do, Sir!" he exclaims. "I'm very glad the lady is alright! Perhaps the two of you would like to stay in one of our rooms this evening? We've got lovely views from up top, make you forget about this terrifying incident. How does that sound, Mr. and Mrs...?"