Checkmate

It was Arthur who had inspired her. His jet black hair slicked back into his ever-so-polished look, not a single strand out of place. His posture, back incredibly straight and shoulders square- it was as if he was on a mission, even though the rolled- back sleeves of his dress shirt and the loose tie hanging around his neck proved otherwise. His mouth, lips chapped by the frigid air that cooled the inside of the warehouse. And, most importantly, his eyes- pupils like dark black beads darting back and forth from her king and his pawn.

It had been an unusually quiet day at work (if you could call sleeping all day in an abandoned building work). They had finished all their research. Their plan was developed and absolutely fool-proof. Their target completely unsuspecting.

Now all they had to do was wait.

Cobb and Eames had stepped out, looking for a good bar and (in Eames' case, she suspected) a good fuck. Considering how much money they had stuffed into their wallets, they would not be back for a while. Yusuf had retreated into his makeshift lab (a small closet on the other end of the warehouse) to test a new concoction that would hopefully be able to jolt the dreamer awake, kick or no kick. He demanded that they did not disturb him, and she quickly obliged. Yusuf was known to throw things when interrupted from his work. Eames still had the scar on his left cheek to prove it.

Which had left her and Arthur alone.

After Yusuf had gone into his lab, the point man immediately leaned back on his lawn chair and closed his eyes. From her spot behind her desk, she had watched him curiously, confused. The team spent a good amount of time asleep, often living in the dream world more than in the real world. She wondered why anyone, especially Arthur, would want to slumber on their downtime.

The sudden sound of his deep voice startled her out of her gaze. "Can I help you, Miss Ariadne?"

She had blushed, even though she knew that he could not see the reddening of her cheeks. She'd forgotten about Arthur's uncanny ability to see with his eyes closed. He demonstrated his talent frequently, but she had yet gotten used to it. "Oh, I didn't- um- I'm sorry if I- "

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the vast, empty space, before opening his eyes and looking at her. Ariadne had felt her cheeks grow even hotter, and she looked down at her hands, willing her heart to stop pounding in her chest. A slight noise made her head whip up again, only to find Arthur standing in front of her, holding a checkered board and a bag of chess pieces. Her mouth had opened in surprise, but before she could say anything, Arthur cut her off.

"Fancy a game, Ar?"

She had chosen white- partly because she believed she played better when she was able to make the first move. First moves are important after all; they helped decide the outcome of the game, the outcome of who won and who lost. And if she was going to play against someone like Arthur, who was known for his intelligence and quick- thinking, she needed all the help she could get.

He hadn't complained when she picked out the white pieces from the bag. She suspected that he was more partial to black anyway.

The game had started fairly easy; a pawn or so lost from both sides with every other move. But as the minutes passed and the board thinned out, Ariadne was starting to tense. Now rooks, knights, bishops were being killed- taken off the playing field with a small swipe. She had managed to take his last bishop, but he retaliated by claiming her queen seconds later. Only one pawn remained in the game- his piece- but she didn't mind it. It was just a pawn, the most useless piece in the game (except, perhaps the king). She doubted it would do any damage.

But once she had seen the faint glimmer in Arthur's eyes as she took his queen rather than his pawn, she knew she was dead. He had planned this all along. Of course he would trick her with a pawn- chess was practically a model of their jobs. The board was the dream, and all the pieces were the dreamer's imagination. Kings, queens, rooks, bishops, knights- they were all part of the subconscious. It was the pawns that represented the team, for the pawns always went about quietly and (if they were careful enough) unnoticed. He had tricked her with logic, and she fell for it hard.

The door had been flung open as Arthur knocked her king over, the barely audible 'checkmate' escaping his lips. Eames and Cobb had returned from their rendezvous, and only then did Ariadne remember that she had yet to finish her totem. Cobb had warned her about the risks of entering dream world for a long period of time, and she needed to hurry and make one. Fischer Sr. could die any moment, and once he did, it was show time.

Now, as she turned the bronze pawn in her hand, Ariadne smiled. The chess piece would serve more than just a totem. It would also serve as a way to remember how she had been tricked by Arthur, and as a reminder that, if she ever was alone with him again, she would probably be tricked once more. But the architect didn't care. For Arthur was her true totem. And she knew that as long as Arthur was there, she would always come back to reality.