Story of Us

Summary: Post-Inception. Ariadne runs into a familiar face on her walk to work, but it's not one of the Inception crew but rather, a past love. Implications of Ariadne/OC & Ariadne/Arthur.

Author's Note: I was originally intending to make this of all the Inception crew, but got lazy. So I only did Ariadne's ex. I may continue this eventually, but for now, it is completed.

The idea of this came to me when I was writing my other story, Just Sex. I'm planning on mentioning Thomas there, but he's a jerk. I was toying with the idea of Ariadne breaking his heart instead, AND BOOM... This story was created. Personally, I like Thomas in this story. In my other story, I don't like him so much.

So this story is no way connected to the other Inception fic I'm working on.

Title was totally inspired by Taylor Swift.

It was an ordinary Tuesday in Paris during the spring. Ariadne breathed in the fresh air as she made her way to the architecture firm she worked in. It had been six years since the Inception job. Despite how drawn she was to dream-sharing, she had called it quits after the Fischer Job.

"Ariadne." She stopped at the sound of her name. She slowly turned behind her with wide eyes trying to place the voice.

"Thomas?" She looked up to see a tall blonde man with dirty sandy hair. He over towered her by nearly a foot. The man was wearing a charcoal three piece suit.

"Thought that was you." She smiled. He opened his arms up to her. She gladly returned the hug.

"I…I… wow, what are you doing in Paris?"

"I'm here on business. I'm working with Bradford Stuart on my latest design, but I thought I'd walk around the city." He held up his briefcase. "You always said you loved it here." He added.

"How long are you in the city for?" He ruffled his hair.

"I got here Sunday and here 'til Friday." She nodded.

"We should catch dinner. You know, if you have the time?" She suggested. He beamed.

"I'd like that." She opened her purse and pulled out her business cards.

"Here, give me a call when you have the time. I'll keep my schedule open for you." He took the card and nodded.

"I should probably head back soon."

"And I should go to the office now too." He smiled bright again and saluted her off.

"I'll call you tonight!" He called out as she walked away. She turned out her shoulder.

"I'm looking forward to it."

True to his word, he called her at exactly 7:15 that night. She smiled remembering how many times he'd call her at that exact time. They arranged to have dinner at the restaurant in his hotel the following evening. Smiling as they hung up, Ariadne pulled out old photo albums and yearbooks hidden away in her closet.

Thomas, Thomas, Thomas

Thomas Blackwell was not only a dear childhood friend, but her ex-boyfriend. Not her first boyfriend, but her first serious boyfriend. The two had grown up together in a small surfing town in southern California. In kindergarten, they had the same Rugrats lunch box. They instantly clicked. He taught her how to play soccer; she taught him how to build massive buildings with Legos. They were each other's best friends through elementary school despite it being the age of cooties. In middle school, Thomas punched Aaron, Ariadne's first boyfriend, for dumping her in the middle of a dance. During their freshmen year of high school, he started to fall for her, but she didn't pay attention to his advances.

By their senior year, however, he had a plan to change her feelings for him. He pursued her steadily throughout the year. It worked. By the end of their senior year, she was absolutely smitten by him. They dated all throughout college despite the fact that they went to different colleges. She went to Virginia Tech while he attended a local art university. She aspired to be an architect and he wanted to fashion designer. She studied abroad one semester in Paris and fell in love with the city and the university. She decided to attend graduate school there.

Although he was hoping that they would end the long-distance right after graduation, he supported her no matter what. So despite his wishes, he encouraged her to go to Paris. That's when things got tricky. Her graduate program was only supposed to be three years including summer classes. During the beginning of it, she called frequently, emailed every day, and web-cam him twice a week. Slowly though, she stopped emailing, no more web chatting, and she only called once a week, if he was lucky. Those first two years, he visited her twice. She came to see him for Christmas.

Their relationship began to crumble. Desperate to try to save it, he went to Paris again. When he got there, she gladly took him in. He stayed with her for a week. They talked about mostly her and he noticed the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about the city. She loved it there. He realized, given the chance, she would have never leave.

On his last night he sighed, this was his one shot. He took her out to the restaurant of her choice, then he circled the city, exploring the lights and the night life around them. Afterwards, once they were safely back inside her Parisian flat, he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. He gave her the ring his deceased grandmother left him.

"Ari, I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. These last few years of being apart have been such a burden, I know, but if you let me, I will make it up to you. I love you, will you marry me?"

She bit her lowered lip and didn't say a thing. After a couple of minutes, she finally spoke. It wasn't anything he was expecting.

"Will you move to Paris?" She asked. He stared at her blankly from the floor.

"Pardon?" Asking if he heard her correctly. Here he was, proposing, and she was asking about living arrangements?

"Will you move to Paris?" He shifted his weight off his knee and leaned forward.

"I don't understand what's that got to do with anything?" she ignored his question.

"Thomas, will you move here with me?" It was a simple question, but he knew the result wouldn't be pretty.

"I can't… I have a life, my internship, back in New York. We promised that's where we'll start our lives together."

"But we could start it here." He got up and sat on the chair across her.

"Ari, I don't understand. We had a plan. You were to attend grad school, then come back to New York."

"Plans change, Thom. I can't leave it here. I'm in love with the city. And I've met with some people about working with them and—" He cut her off.

"You've been talking about making Paris a permanent change?" She bit her lip and nodded. "Why are you only telling me this now?"

"Thomas, I—"

"No! Ari, what are you doing?"

"California, New York, Virginia, it all the same! It's all America! Don't you want a change? Because I do! For the first time, I can breathe! I'm free here!"

"Oppose to what being held captive in US?"

"I love this city, and I'm not leaving."

"Do you love it more than me?" She looked at him agaped and responded in silence.

"Ariadne Jean, answer my question: do you love Paris more than you love me?" Her breathing became shallow. She muttered a few incoherent words. He got up and walked into the bedroom. He started packing his clothes hoping he could catch the redeye to NY.

"Thomas, don't leave." She begged. She tugged on his arm, but he brushed her aside.

"Please." He retreated into the bathroom. She followed him, taking away his toothbrush in hopes he would listen to her.

"I love you."

"More than Paris?" He scoffed.

"Of… of course I do!" The hesitation in her voice disgusted him. He ignored the rest of her pleads and returned to packing up. He zipped up his duffel and hung it over his shoulder.

"I'm leaving."

"When will I see you again?"

"I don't know. I have to think." She ran in front of him and pulled him into a kiss. He tried so hard to lose himself in her, but he couldn't shake off the fact that she hadn't answered any of his questions.

"Ariadne, stop." He gasped pulling away from her. She began to sob, rubbing her eyes to stop the tears. He stared at the girl in front of him. She wasn't the introvert artist he once knew, she was completely different. The city had changed her.

"At least let me drive you to the airport." She whispered placing a hand to his forearm. He nodded.

"Okay." The drive was silent. He spent the whole time staring at her. When they got to the airport, she parked and led him inside. He bought the first plane to New York, which was to leave in an hour. She followed as far as she could into the airport. They stood in silence.

"I'm sorry." She finally said breaking the tension. He put both hands into his pockets.

"It's alright."

"I don't love Paris more than you. I love you way more than I love Paris." She admitted. He nodded waiting for the rest. "But I don't think I can leave it just yet. I'm so liberated here. There's nothing like it. This is where I'm supposed to be. This is my home." He ran his hand through his hair.

"I understand."

"I really do love you." She lunged forward to grasp his hands. He waited for that spark to ignite when they touched. It didn't he sighed.

"And I really love you." He leaned down and captured her lips in his. He took his hands out of his pockets and placed her onto her waist. Her hands snaked around his neck and her fingers ran through his hair. He tasted the bittersweet taste of chocolate still lingering in her mouth. He pulled away, resting his face in the crook of her neck. She held him closer, feeling the tears falling freely down her face. He took a moment to himself letting out his emotions.

"I get this is it?" He whispered into her ear. It wasn't really a question, more like a statement. She let of a sob confirming his statement. He stepped away from her.

"I'm sorry." She said breaking his heart.

"Goodbye Ariadne." He tucked his hands into his pockets and turned away from her.

"Goodbye Thomas." He heard her over his shoulder as he walked towards airplane security.

Thomas waited patiently in the lobby for Ariadne. He sighed glancing at the wedding ring on his hand. He was nervous. Ariadne was his first love, and in a lot of ways, he still loved her a lot. Even though they hadn't seen each other since that last night six years ago, he thought about her all the time. A lot of things have since then. He was married with kids now. She was a hot-shot architect. He's read about her on the internet. (He wasn't stalking, just checking up on her.) He wondered if she was in a relationship.

"Thom." He looked up, or down, considering he was over a foot taller than her.

"Hey." He looked over her appearance. She was wearing a simple black dress and spiky black heels. Her brunette hair was pulled back into a bun. She was sporting a simple diamond necklace. He tried to get a glimpse at her hands but she covered them. She pulled him into another hug.

"You hungry?" She nodded as she backed away from him. He nodded leading her towards the restaurant.

Ariadne sipped her wine and looked across the table at her companion. He caught her staring and smirked. She giggled.

"So what are you doing now?" She asked.

"Well, I'm in the process of getting my name out there. I already have a clothing line, but I'm still pretty unknown. So if you know any famous, let me know?" He mused. She clapped.

"That's so great! It's always been your dream to have your own line. As for famous people, I do know Saito Watanabe. He's a close friend. I could hook you up if you want." He gulped.

"Really, you know Saito Watanabe? The head of Proclus global?"

"Yep, he's a dear friend. I designed some of his buildings in the last two years."

"Wow. You're a big-shot architect aren't you?"

"Yeah, yeah. You could say that." She tucked a loosen strand of hair behind her ears. He coughed. Her eyes wandered to the couple sitting next to them.

"Can I make a confession?" She looked up bewildered.

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead." He took a swift mouthful of his drink.

"I'm married." He said nervously. She bit her bit and sipped her drink.

"I know." She finally said. He let out that breath he didn't know he was holding.

"You do?" She nodded.

"My mom told me. She said it was a lovely ceremony."

"Oh, that's right. Martha did attend. I just didn't realize she told you."

"Do you have a picture?" She asked curiously. He nodded taking out his wallet and pulling out pictures. He spread them out on the table.

"This is Jan," he pointed to a small blonde woman smiling at the camera. "This was our wedding day," he pointed to a picture with him and Jan in wedding attire. Both sported giant smiles. Ariadne ran her fingers through the photo. Thomas looked up to see the wistfulness in her eyes before proceeding to the next photo. "This is Blake. He's two." He held up a picture of a dirty blonde child sticking his tongue out at the camera. Thom smiled. "And this… this is my baby girl, Lily." Ariadne looked at the charming newborn. Her face was pudgy and she was wrapped in blankets. She pulled the photo out and looked at it longingly.

"Her name's Lily?" She whispered staring at the photo. Thomas looked up at her.

"Yeah."

"Thomas! This isn't funny! What if I got pregnant?" the sandy blonde laughed.

"Then we'll need to think of baby names!" She stuck her tongue at him.

"Come on, top boys name." He challenged her.

"Arthur."

"Ew, gross."

"I think Arthur's a perfectly fine name."

"Not even. Girl's name?"

"Lily."

"Lily, I like that."

"I've always love that name."

"I know." It was silent again. The waiter came by to ask their orders. Ariadne ordered for the two of them in fluent French. Thomas smirked.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Yeah. I am actually."

"Tell me about him." He asked curiously.

"His name's Arthur Hamilton." She paused to see if she'd get a reaction. He didn't fret. "He's a little older."

"How old?"

"He's 34. I met him about six years ago." Thomas wondered if she met him before or after the break-up. "We've been close friends for a while now, and we just recently got together."

"How long ago?"

"Well…" she counted the months in her head. "Ten months."

"Does he live in the city?" She shook her head.

"Yes and no. He lives with me when he's in Paris. It's his permanent residence, but he tends to travel a lot for his job. We call and email each other a lot."

"Still doing the long-distance thing?"

"I'm used to it." For the third time, it was silent again. The waiter returned with appetizers. Thomas slowly slurped his soup while Ariadne picked at her salad.

"It's my turn to make a confession." Thomas looked up from his soup. He placed the spoon on the side and listened intently. "I went to New York last year, and I went to Fashion Week. I saw your work."

"Oh, what did you think?"

"It was beautiful. It was so incredible. My boyfriend loved it." She added.

"Do you have a picture of him?" She shook her head.

"I'm afraid not. I don't keep one in my wallet, and I have no clue how to work the camera on my phone." She laughed. He nodded. The waiter came back again with their entrees. They ate in silence stealing glances at each other.

"Can I ask you something?" Ariadne asked setting her fork down. She was full and didn't feel the need to continue eating.

"Shoot." He said casually.

"Why are you here?" He looked into her eyes, taken back from her question.

"I told you, business trip."

"No, Thomas, why are you here with me right now? Why did you invite me out? Why is your hotel across the street from my firm? Why is it not across the street from Bradford Stuart's Studio? I mean, Bradford's studio is at the other side of the city." Words wouldn't form in his mouth as he tried to speak. He opened his mouth just to end up coughing. She looked concerned, but made no effort to help him.

"I… I…" He stammered.

"Thom," she murmured softly.

"I guess I wanted to see if I still loved you." He said truthfully. She let it process before speaking again.

"And are you?" He paused to think about it. He had a beautiful wife back home and two lovely children. Yet here he was, in the City of Love, with the first real love of his life. He sighed contently.

"Yeah, I guess I'll never stop loving you." He took a deep breath. "What about you? Do you still love me?"

"Of course I do." She whispered with no hesitation. He sighed, wishing that it was three years earlier. "I will always love you. Is that a bad thing?"

"No. I love you too, but I don't think I'm in love with you. I'm madly in love with my wife. She's… Jan's my everything." He said with conviction. She smiled tenderly.

"I think I'm really falling for Arthur." He reached over and grabbed her hand.

"It's a shame…" He stroked her hand. "We could've been really happy together."

"I know."

"But I think it worked out for the best." She nodded.

"Yeah, I think so too." He squeezed her hand and noticed the chills that used to send down his spine were no longer there. He grinned goofily at her which she returned. The wait came back for a last time.

"Desert?" He asked in a strong accent. Ariadne looked up and pulled her hand away.

"Non, chèque?" She replied. The waiter motioned yes and left.

"Paris is a nice city." He remarked.

"It is, but so is New York."

"I'm happy."

"I am too."

"That's great."

"It is." The waiter placed the check between them. Ariadne went to grab it, but Thomas pushed her hand away. He smirked and placed his credit card inside before handing it to the waiter.

"Thank you."

"How are you getting home?" He questioned remembering the amount of wine she acquired.

"I told Arthur to pick me up."

"Oh, well you better call him." She nodded pulling out her phone to call him. He waited as she spoke delicate French into the receiver. She smiled softly at the other voice on the other side of the line. Thomas smiled wanting to call his wife and tell her how much he loved her. After a few seconds, Ariadne whispered 'I love you' and hung up. They sat comfortably staring at each other. When the waiter returned, Thomas placed his card inside his wallet and helped Ariadne into her coat. He walked her to the front of the hotel and smiled.

"Is he here yet?" Thomas looked out the door. Ariadne followed his gaze and shook her head.

"No not yet." He nodded. "Would you like to meet him?"

"Not tonight, but hopefully one day." He pulled his business card out of his wallet. "If you ever return to New York. Call me." She took the business card from him and smiled. She stepped forward and opened up her arms. He followed suit pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. She thought about the first time he told her he loved her, and he thought about the first time she told him. All the memories, the good and the bad, flashed before their eyes. She felt the tears rushing into her eyes, but held her head up to prevent the tear shed. He closed his eyes and took her in. He remembered the time where they were in love. Slowly, they both pulled out of the hug. Still in each other's arms they stared into each other's eyes and smiled. She looked out the door and saw Arthur's car parked by the front.

"Looks like my rides here." She declared. He nodded. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"It was really great seeing you tonight."

"I'm really glad you found me."

"You take care now."

"You too." She walked towards the door. He tucked his hands into his pockets.

"Thomas!" He looked up at her. She had one hand on the door.

"Yes?"

"I'll be in New York next month. Can we do this again?" She asked timidly.

"Of course." He beamed.