Oh Look, A Mirror.
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: A/E
Rating: T
Summary: Arthur goes on a date that turns out to be not quite what he expected.
"After you." Arthur says politely, allowing his date to slide into the restaurant before him. She was a pretty little thing, and very obviously not someone he met at work. She wasn't exactly his type, but she was charming and moderately funny. Of course it helped that she was a fashion consultant at his favorite shop, and had saved him a very nice jacket while he was on a job. She turned and offered him a pleased smile and a word of thanks as he stepped through the door after her.
"This is a lovely place," She remarks as Arthur offers her his arm and give the hostess his name. "It looks quite expensive… Are you sure I should be allowing you to spoil me?" Arthur laughs easily and offers the typical quip of having keep her around somehow before sliding out her chair for her and pushing her in before seating himself. He offers the wine list a quick glance before selecting one that his dates have enjoyed in the past.
"So, you know all about my work," she teases reaching out to smooth one of his lapels, "but I know next to nothing about what you, besides the fact it for some reason requires you to be ridiculously well dressed. Tell me about what you do." He studies her face as he decides how to answer. Arthur decides that he likes her eyes most of all- an interesting hazel mix of brown and green. He likes them so much he decides to tell the half-truth.
"I work with a military intelligence device. Have you ever heard of dreamsharing?" He allows the waitress to serve the wine while he chuckles at her bemused expression. "We attempt to extract information from a prisoner's mind by interacting with their subconscious while they dream a dream we create." Arthur's pleased to see his date leaning forward curiously.
"My turn," Arthur says before she can ask questions that would reveal too much, "What is your favorite Italian meal?" His eyes flicker to the waitress who appears to be working their way back to their table rather efficiently.
"Ravioli di Portobello, please and thank you." She says politely. "Now tell me, Mr. Arthur, why do you need such finely tailored suits if the only time your …clients see you is swimming in their sleeping subconscious? And don't you tell me you need to be that well dressed on a military compound- I've met my fair share of soldiers and military personnel- they are not picky about fashion."
"Just a hobby, I suppose." She smiles. "I pride myself in my professionalism, and well, I suppose I enjoy the luxury." She laughs, and the conversation continues around expensive suits and silk ties until their matching meals are nearly gone. By the time the check has arrived, Arthur's seriously reconsidering his original claim of her being not his type.
"So, this insane man brings his jacket back to the shop, still smoking mind you and asks if he can get a refund!" she laughs freely but not obnoxiously, reaching for his hand automatically as she stands. He chuckles and slides his hand to her waist instead, leading her out of the restaurant and down the street towards the park in a comfortable quiet.
"Push me?" she asks spotting a swing set and skipping over. She folds her hands in her lap and bats her eyelashes convincingly. Arthur laughs loudly, but amuses her. He allows his hands to graze over her shoulders and back a bit longer than strictly necessary to push the swing. He smiles watching her light brown hair trail through the air and enjoying being allowed to touch her. Once or twice he pretends to miss, and his hands push a bit lower than typical.
When he allows the swing to slow to a stop she twists around and peers at him. He leans down and kisses her sweet and chaste before they continue along the path. Arthur twirls his date past a teenage birthday parties blaring music, tickles her sides as she tries to get a drink of water, tucks the flower she picks for him into his jacket pocket, and when the temperature begins to drop surrenders that jacket to his date to warm her.
The stars are just beginning to come out when they finally come to a rest laying back on a picnic table near the edge of the park. Arthur has to be at the warehouse early tomorrow for a meeting with Cobb, and he's quite sure his date has an equally early start. They don't have much time left to their night, but Arthur doesn't want to move just yet.
Long ago he's stopped pointing out different constellations and planets he learned for a job with an astrologist and contented himself with trailing his finger through her hair, down her arm and resting atop his hand before her soft locks draw his attention once more. However, he can't stay here forever, and Fischer's father is getting worse every day. This time, his hand grabs hold of hers and pulls her up with him.
"C'mon, I'd hardly be able to uphold my gentlemanly reputation if I kept you out into the wee hours of the morning. Let me get you a taxi home." He leads her to the entrance of the park, right onto the threshold of the main road again when she pulls him back. Arthur's hand cups her neck and kisses her goodnight.
"It's been an absolutely gorgeous night, love." She says smiling shyly. "I'd really like to do this again. If your work ever brings back here, give me a ring." She says and she turns to step into the taxi that's stopped for her. Before she can slip into the car, Arthur grabs her hand for one more scorching kiss.
"I would love that, Mr. Eames." He says simply, rolling one of his dice onto the sidewalk before following after it. Eames turns back to the car, only to catch his own reflect in the window. He's only a block away when the dream dissolves and his wakes to their rundown wearhouse, his darling Eames blinking in foggy confusion. As Arthur begins to pack the PASIV, he notices Eames out of the corner of his eye, rubbing his poker chip, and smiling softly.
A/N: Random fluff bit that popped into my mind off of my friend Mick's prompt "Oh look, a mirror". Beta'd by the gorgeous Sax who's up waiting for HS update. I changed some stuff after though, so all mistakes are mine.