“Joseph Campbell, the second head scientist working on Project Phoenix.”

“Is that a question?” The man on the other side of the table asks, raking a hand through his slicked-back brown hair, making it stick up in places. Robyn and Arthur share a look.

“How long have you worked for Voltech labs?” Arthur asks as Robyn flips through Joseph’s folder.

“How long? I don’t know. Four years?” Arthur huffs in response, Robyn sliding a photo out of Joseph’s folder. She spins it around so it faces Joseph. Joseph’s eyes narrow at the photo. Arthur taps the photo, drawing Joseph’s eyes to his.

“If you’re going to ask me about him, I hope you don’t mind brutal honesty,” Joseph says, pushing the photo away from himself.

“Do you have something you would like to say to him?” Robyn asks, one eyebrow raised in question. Joseph shifts in his seat, chuckling bitterly.

“You bet your fucking ass I do.” He snarls.

“Watch your mouth,” Arthur growls and Joseph holds up his hands.

“Chill. I wasn’t talking about her ass.”

“You better not be or I swear--” Robyn touches Arthur’s arm, making him fall silent.

“It’s fine, Arthur. Relax.” Arthur glances at her, his lips curling into a snarl.

“It’s not. I have half a mind to toss this punk into a cell for harassing--”

“Arthur.” Robyn’s voice is low and forceful, startling him. He meets her hazel eyes, which glare at him. He gulps.

“Go wait outside.” She says and Arthur opens his mouth to respond when she narrows her eyes. Arthur gulps again, the sound audible this time.

“Arthur, now please.” He stands, fixing Joseph with a glare. He points at him, snarling,

“If you so much as--”

“Arthur. Outside, now.” Robyn snaps, Arthur looking at her with some concern and fear. She’s rarely raised her voice at him, at anyone, in all the years he’s known her. Arthur gives Joseph another glare before leaving the interrogation room, leaning against the wall with a sigh. He taps the wall gently with his fist, glancing down hall at the bullpen. He tips his head back against the wall, weighing his options. One of which involves him getting his ass kicked by the one and only Robyn Clarke. Before he is able to decide between paperwork and getting his ass handed to him on a silver platter, the door to the interrogation room open and Joseph steps out, bumping into Arthur. Arthur blinks, snapping out of his thoughts. He narrows his eyes at the sight of Joseph, who gives him a small nod of acknowledgment before walking down the hall to leave. Arthur frowns and walks into the interrogation room, finding Robyn putting papers back into the folder.

“You let him go?” Robyn doesn’t acknowledge him, flipping the folder closed.

“Clarke,” Arthur says and Robyn sighs, still not acknowledging him.

“Don't ignore me.” Arthur snaps and Robyn presses one hand flat to the table, lifting the other to rub her forehead.

“What the hell is your problem, Arthur?” She asks, her voice low.

“Excuse me?” Arthur asks and Robyn scoffs, pressing both hands onto the table.

“You were planning to throw him in a cell? For what?” Before Arthur can reply, Robyn walks over to him, shoving the folder against his chest.

“I joined the police force to get away from guys like you, but now I'm surrounded by them.” She snaps and Arthur furrows his eyebrows.

“Guys like… me?” Arthur asks, his voice small.

“Guys who think women are the weaker ones. Guys who treat women like damsels in distress. Like women can't fend for themselves.” Robyn pauses, breathing hard.

“Guys who treat women like punching bags.” Arthur's eyes grow wide. Robyn shoves her hands against his chest, making him stumble.

“Guys like my father.” Robyn snarls, her eyes narrowed into slits. She lets out a breath, her hands fists.

“Guys like you, who treat women like possessions, and get angry when another man even so much as looks at them wrong.” Robyn lets out another breath, her nails biting deep into her palms.

“I don't…” Robyn cuts Arthur off, her voice drowning his out.

“I'm not a possession.”

“What are you talking about?” Arthur asks and Robyn rolls her eyes exasperatedly.

“That whole thing with Joseph.” Arthur frowns.

“I wasn't just gonna let him talk about your--”

“He wasn't talking about my ass, Arthur!” Robyn snaps, her eyes bright with anger.

“You've never heard that said before?” She asks and Arthur shakes his head.

“I have. I just…” Robyn drags a hand down her face.

“Then why? Why is it different when said to me?” She asks and Arthur shrugs.

“Just because you’re a white heterosexual male, doesn’t mean you’re superior to anyone. You are not entitled to anything.” Robyn spits, her voice dangerously low.

“Every time someone makes a comment about me, you are the first to get offended.”

“I’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving. I can fend for myself.” She moves past Arthur, grabbing the folder from him as she makes to leave the room.

“Clarke.” He says tentatively.

“What, Reed?” Robyn’s use of his last name shocks him.

“Did he know where Cross is?” Robyn shakes her head.

“No. Now, if you’ll excuse me… I have work to do.”

---

Robyn finds herself at the shooting range, a few miles east of the station. Sweat collects on her forehead and slides slowly down the sides of her face as she fights for breath. The sky is overcast, rain clouds gathering overhead. Robyn’s favorite kind of weather. She lets out a slow breath, pulling the red hair tie from her hair. Her long auburn hair falls to frame her face, strands sticking to her forehead and cheeks.

Thunder rumbles as she slides the hair tie onto her wrist. Distantly, she can hear a car engine and gravel crunching under tires. The sound grows louder as the car pulls into the parking lost, the engine idling. Robyn turns, looking at the car. A raindrop splashes onto her nose and she flinches, glancing up at the sky as it starts raining heavily. Robyn closes her eyes, feeling the rain drum against her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, and lips.

She hears the car shut off but doesn’t pay much attention to it, focusing on losing herself in the rain. Her hair sticks to her face and neck, her wet clothes clinging to her skin. She stands there a few moments longer, not yet ready to move. She knows who is sitting in the car but she hasn’t yet gotten control over her anger at him.

Through the quiet shh of the rain, she hears the sound of a car door slamming shut. Gravel crunches underfoot and the rain stops. Robyn blinks open her eyes, seeing an umbrella floating above her head. She lets out a soft sigh, looking over at Arthur, who stares down at his shoes, holding the umbrella in a white-knuckle grip. He clears his throat gently.

“There are towels in the car.” He says, his voice soft. Robyn leaves the shelter of the umbrella and heads for the car, hearing Arthur follow after her, sliding into the driver’s seat. Robyn slides into the passenger seat and is met with a stack of fluffy white towels. Arthur gives her an apologetic look over the top of them and holds out the towels again. Robyn takes one and is surprised by its warmth. Arthur sets the rest of the towels on the dashboard, resting his forehead against the steering wheel. He lets out a heavy sigh, Robyn glancing at him while drying her hair.

“So… I’m a dick,” Arthur says and Robyn snorts, her face hidden from Arthur by the now damp towel.

“I may be most of the things you described back at the station, but I’ve never hit someone in anger. Not intentionally.”

“I was angry, Re-Arthur.” She says, stumbling over his name.

“Either one is fine, you know.” He says, laughter in his voice. Robyn nods, pulling the towel away from her face to look at Arthur, who snorts.

“Nice hair.” He says, chuckling. Robyn huffs, reaching up to fix her hair. Arthur’s laughter fades, leaving a kind of awkward silence behind. Robyn coughs, getting his attention.

“Like I was saying,” she begins, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.

“I was angry. I didn’t really understand why you got angry at Joseph, but I’ve had some time to think and I get it now.” She hears Arthur gulp loudly. Robyn glances over at him, seeing his wide eyes and his white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. She turns her gaze to the windshield, watching the rain drum against the glass. Robyn lets out a breath.

“You like me.” Her words are met with silence, the drum of rain against the car the only sound.

“Clarke, I--” Arthur stops speaking, shaking his head.

“I’m pretty certain that we both know that this,” Robyn gestures to the two of them, “can’t happen.” Arthur shifts in his seat, his grip of the steering wheel loosening.

“Unless…” He begins, trailing off. Robyn glances at him.

“I’m not turning in my badge.” She says. Arthur hums, tapping his fingers against the faded leather of the steering wheel.

“Maybe, I could…” Robyn looks at him skeptically.

“I know you’re not about to turn your gun and badge in and get some crappy 9-5 job just so we can be together.” Robyn snaps, anger lacing her words. Arthur glances at her, frowning.

“Don’t be stupid, Arthur.” Robyn spits, grabbing another towel.

“Don’t throw away everything you’ve worked so goddamn hard for just because of me.”

“I fucking fell in love with you, Robyn!”

“And I didn’t!” The car grows quiet, both of them holding eye contact. Robyn’s gaze softens.

“I… I don’t love you, Arthur. You mean a lot to me but--”

“But you don’t see me in that way. I… I understand and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You don’t need to apologize for being in love.” Arthur breaks eye contact, looking down at his lap.

“Are things gonna be awkward now that you know I… That I’m in love with you?” He asks and Robyn shrugs.

“Doesn’t have to be. I know you’re in love with me--”

“And I know that you’re not, but I mean a lot to you.” Arthur murmurs and Robyn nods. The sound of the rain drumming against the car steadily gets louder, Arthur turning the car on to warm it up.

“I didn’t see another car when I pulled in. Did you run here?” Arthur asks and Robyn nods.

“It helps with stress… and anger.” She says, her voice quiet. Arthur chuckles, flipping on the wipers, sending them humming across the windshield.

“You don’t get angry often.”

“I know how to control my emotions.” She says curtly and Arthur nods, reaching back to pull the seatbelt across his chest.

“Could… Could I ask you something?” He asks as Robyn buckles.

“What is it?” She asks, glancing over at him. His fingers tap against the steering wheel like he’s mulling over his next words.

“You mentioned… Guys who… Who use women as punching bags. Then you…” Arthur pauses, glancing at Robyn, who meets his gaze with narrowed eyes.

“You mentioned your step-father. Was he…” Arthur trails off, seeing Robyn tense. She turns to look out the windshield, letting out a breath.

“Both my parents were… They’d… They would…” Robyn can’t force the words past her lips and clenches her jaw, hard enough to make her teeth hurt. Arthur opens his mouth to speak, to probably tell her “it’s ok” and that she “shouldn’t force it.” She speaks before he can, forcing the words from her mouth.

“They would get drunk, and I mean they would get absolutely shitfaced. Then…” Robyn releases a breath, running her fingers through her damp hair. She inhales sharply, Arthur sitting quietly in the driver’s seat. Robyn shakes her head, a small frown on her lips.

“For the longest time, it was just my little sister and me.” She says, seeing Arthur glance at her with surprise. Robyn laughs softly.

“I say little, but she's only two years younger.” Robyn lets out a shaking breath.

“I had to look out for her after our parents…” Robyn shuts her eyes, “Jess never really understood why I hated them. She saw nothing but good in them, even when…”

“Clarke…” Arthur begins.

“I haven't heard from her in 10 years.” Arthur blinks, shock painting his face.

“You're kidding.” He protests and Robyn scoffs.

“I wish I was. Jess is 28 and I haven't heard jack shit from her in 10 fucking years!” Robyn's voice is loud as she slams a fist down onto her thigh.

“I took care of her until she was 18… Then she just left. Told me she didn't need nor want me looking after her anymore.” Robyn scrubs her face with a towel, hiding her face from Arthur. She doesn't want his pity or whatever comforting words he might conjure up in that thick head of his. She lowers the towel and Arthur, seeing the look in her hazel eyes, doesn't say anything. Arthur's cell phone rings and he shifts, retrieving it from his back pocket. He answers, pressing the phone to his ear, Robyn sitting quietly.

“Yeah. We'll be right there. No, don't worry about it. I'll…” He glances at Robyn, who avoids his gaze.

“We'll take care of it,” Arthur says and ends the call, setting his phone in the cup holder. He put the car in reverse, Robyn moving the towels into her lap.

“Who was on the phone?” She asks, Arthur shifting the car to drive now.

“Scott. Says we have a couple more people who're connected to Project Phoenix. I was thinking we'd divide and conquer,” He says, casting a quick glance at Robyn, “If that's ok with you.” He finishes. Robyn shrugs.

“I want to see who we're dealing with before we decide how to question them.” She says and Arthur nods, slowing to a stop as someone jogs across the crosswalk.

“About earlier, at lunch… How did you--”

“Know what you like on sandwiches?” Robyn asks with a hint of a smile. Arthur chuckles, nodding.

“Do you remember that picnic everyone went on?” Robyn asks and she can see Arthur combing through his memories. He nods, pulling into the parking lot of the station.

“I was in charge of bringing the sandwiches. So, to make sure nobody had an allergic reaction or had something they hated on their sandwich, I had Deb go around and ask what people wanted.” Arthur nods, smiling.

“That was a few years ago. How do you still remember what kind of sandwich I like?” Robyn shrugs, unbuckling and opening her door.

“Good memory, I guess. I need to change before we talk to whoever's in there.” She says, getting out of the car. She shuts the door and quickly escapes from the rain into the warm station, heading for the locker rooms