Stealing Glances

Summary: "there are at least 3 pairs of eyes stealing glances, two sets of blue and one set of brown...she rarely notices them watching, but she likes the attention..." Why our three main men just can't seem to get enough of Ariadne.

None of the characters are mine, they belong to Christopher Nolan, neither does the scene in the lobby, that's his too, i'm borrowing for now. This is my first Inception fic, i have been reading a lot of them lately so i though i'd take a stab at one, i hope its worthy.

Enjoy!

While Ariadne is working there are at least 3 pairs of eyes stealing glances, two sets of blue and one set of brown. They aren't all watching at the same time thankfully, because if one were to catch another gazing over at her workbench there might be confrontation, and that's the last thing they all want, especially if it means the end of the job because they can't keep their feelings in check. She rarely notices them watching, but when she does she finds she likes the attention, because Ariadne isn't used to it. The guys at university never looked at her in that way, they only saw her as the geeky girl, the girl that always hid behind her sketch pad as she drew the world how she wanted it to be. Yet now, she was the centre of attention because she was creating a world however she wanted it to be, that was the job of the Architect. A job that suited her perfectly.

Each man has taken an interest in her for different reasons.

Eames likes her because of the way she looks, he can't help it. She's the prettiest thing he's seen in months, and that's saying something. Usually, so long as the bird has a nice pair of boobs and a tight little arse he's as happy as Larry, but recently there'd been a dip in standards. He doesn't want to dwell on that fact, so he buries it and everything's back to normal, that's how Eames likes to play it. He likes her because she's innocent too, that intrigues him greatly. Innocent girls are a dying breed. Too many women nowadays aren't shocked by his behaviour, and though he enjoys the dirty talk, he'd much rather a woman blush and let out the embarrassed giggle, that's what does it for him truthfully. The things he thinks about her would make her do just that and it makes him smirk. Ariadne catches that smirk and Eames busies himself with studying Browning's portrait. His portrayal has to be perfect otherwise the job falls to pieces, but his eyes flicker quickly back to Ariadne and he notices she's smiling too. Her eyes lock onto his, and it's that girlish smile he likes so much, it drives him wild. She pushes a loose strand of hair from her ponytail behind her ear and he looks away as his thoughts run riot. His hands could be tangled in her chestnut brown hair; he could be backing her up against that workbench and his lips could be pressed against hers as he would hear a little moan escape, he's sure she would. He's brought back from his contemplation when he hears something knocked to the floor; Eames glances back at her workbench and spies Cobb picking up her sketch pad. Her chocolate coloured eyes are now fixed onto Cobb's blue-green while he gives her words of advice, and Eames knows their moment is over. He knows there's always next time, that girlish smile is his, that he is certain of.

Cobb likes her for her mind, her imagination, and her creativity. She's gifted and passionate and her dream architecture is breathtaking. He'd stood astounded as she bent Paris on top of itself and he'd been impressed while she'd created a bridge from out of nowhere. Her ambition is powerfully attractive to him. He's reminded of a younger version of himself, he sees that same wild happiness in her face that used to belong to him as she models and creates the three layers needed for the dream. He's reminded how he used to love the thrill of creating towering buildings, busy plazas; even the sudden manipulation of the weather. The world could be as empty or as crowded as he pleased, everything was down to his specifications, Ariadne makes him realise he misses being an architect.

Cobb watches Ariadne sleep one evening, everyone else has gone home after calling it a day. He'd suggested that it'd be a good idea to keep an eye on her; they didn't want anything to happen to their architect. They'd all agreed although some a little more loudly than others he noticed. He smiles a little as he observes her dreaming, he studies how her chest rises and falls in perfect time as her face is the epitome of peacefulness; its then he wishes he could dream again for the first time in two years. He's tempted to invade, he wants to know what she is dreaming of that has her looking so peaceful, but Cobb withdraws. She's entitled to dream undisturbed while she still can; because once this job is done the dreams won't come as easily as they do now, and if she continues in this line of work the dreams will soon stop, he knows that for a fact, so do the rest of the team, let her dream. He walks away to grab some water and comes back to find Ariadne half awake watching him intently.

"Did I wake you?" Cobb asks as he takes his seat at the edge of her bed.

"No." She replies with hazy eyes. "I thought you'd all left."

"I thought I'd keep an eye on you" he smiles as he leans forward, placing both hands on the bed. "Now get back to sleep, it's getting close to D-day."

She returns his smile and as she's about to sink her head back into the pillow she squeezes his hand. Where his is cold, hers is warm in comparison; he enjoys the feel of it.

"Thanks Cobb" she says as her eyes close and her hand is withdrawn.

That touch is his, and that he is certain of. He'll remember it when they arrive in layer one, he hopes it'll keep Mal away, because for now, Ariadne has reminded him how it feels to be happy.

Arthur likes everything about her. He finds her extremely attractive, with those chocolate brown eyes that hold him to the spot, that smile that makes his heart skip a beat, a laugh that sounds like an angel's chorus and a body that made even he, Mr. Composed wants to take there and then. He finds her creativity mind blowing, he knows she has the edge on Cobb, who until now Arthur believed was the world's greatest architect. However, even he would not have thought of bending a city on to itself, it was raw genius and that was just the unearthing of her talent, she hadn't even begun to fulfil her potential yet. He couldn't wait to see her models resurrected when they entered the dream world, he had no doubt they'd be anything but perfect. But, his excitement never shows, he keeps his cool demeanour, for the good of the job, because the job comes first, his feelings always take a back seat. But he finds as the date grows ever closer, it's her personality that attracts him the most. She's the Ying to his Yang, she brings out the side of him no one has ever really experienced, that's what he likes about her, he can be himself, for once.

She'd had take out with Yusuf the night before and it was Arthur's turn to watch over Ariadne for the night.

"I can't stand it!" she'd yelled.

"What can't you stand?" he' rises out of his chair leaving his notes neatly on his workbench before walking to the kitchen where he found her standing in front of the stove.

"I can't eat take out again, it's driving me insane."

"Me either." He smiles as he catches her scrutinizing him, checking to see if he's humouring her. "I picked up some eggs for breakfast, we could make an omelette? It's not French cuisine but it's not take out either."

"That sounds good, I'll have mine plain." She smiles as she sets the hobs alight and goes in search of a frying pan.

"You amaze me." Arthur laughs as he grabs a mug to break two eggs into.

"How?" she looks up from one of the unused cupboards where she finds what she was looking for. The frying pan hasn't been used in at least a year so Ariadne takes it over to the sink to scrub.

"You're the most creative person I know, yet you like your omelette plain? Talk about a boring pallet."

"I'll have you know Arthur, that it is no business of yours how I like my food, now get on and whisk those eggs and milk." She giggles as she sends some soap suds flying his way.

They land on the back of his brown waistcoat and she knows she's in for it. The Point Man is always pristine, never a mark on him or his clothes, but now she's overstepped the mark, she's marked him and there's nothing she can do to take it back. He turns round slowly, knowing she's frozen by fear and he walks towards her, cup in hand filled with omelette mix. Her eyes widen in horror and yet she can't make herself run, it's impossible, especially with that sexy bad boy smile playing on his lips, she can't resist gazing at him, torn between adoration and fear. Just this once he allows himself to become unclean as he dips his hand into the cup, coating his long fingers in egg yolk.

"I'm sorry." She whispers, begging with her wide eyes for him to stop, but he won't, he's exacting revenge.

She screams as he presses his hand on her stomach. She's wearing a plain white t-shirt and suddenly he takes this opportunity to slip his arm is around her waist pulling her closer, as he hears her breath become shallow.

Eames runs in an interrupts them.

"What the bloody hell?" he asks breathless as he surveys the position that they're in.

"We were making omelette." She smiles as she steps away from Arthur to switch the hob off again. They'd been so, so close and she knows that's out of character for the Point Man, he's always focused, always professional nothing gets in the way of the job, until now.

"But I think it's off the menu, so take out?" Ariadne suggests sheepishly as Eames smiles more in Arthur's direction than her own, she watches as Arthur returns to the cool and calm facade like always, and she fears she'll never see the real side of him again.

Her heart is his, if he wants it, that she is certain of.

They're inside level 2, waiting in the lobby for the signal. People keep staring at them, because Fischer's subconscious knows they shouldn't be there. He leans over as another person looks at them and Arthur focuses on the omelette incident the other night. Ariadne's glancing back at the woman; nervousness is tingling through every nerve in her body and thoughts of what will happen if they attack are playing over and over in her head.

"Quick, give me a kiss." Arthur whispers, and without a second thought she leans over and kisses him.

Its brief but it leaves a lasting impression. Her lips feel white hot and his feel like electric currents are passing through them. They both think of how it'll be when they do it properly, if they make it out of here without passing into Limbo.

"They're still looking at us." She tells him, as she reminds herself they're still inside the dream, they're nowhere near finished yet.

"Yeah, it's worth a shot." He looks at her and he knows that kiss is his.

Once this is over he can steal as many glances as he likes, because she'll be his, that he is certain of.

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