Paris Just Ain't Enough

Summary: He's gone forever, but nobody seems to realize he took her with him.

Note: this is a series of one-shots/drabbles. I might do other pairings beside this one, but we never know! If not, this will just be a Arthur/Ariadne.


1. Limbo

She wants so desperately for her dreams to become reality.

. . .

Her projections of him seem so real, but never quite enough. His heat not warm enough. His lips not shaped right. A smile to the man who never smiles. She remembers everything about him: the smell of his breath; the ghost of a grin on his lips; that mysteriously playful glint in his eyes. Her projection just isn't . . . Arthur enough.

She can almost delude herself into thinking it's him. Sometimes. (But not always.)

. . .

"I'm not him, am I? Just not good enough?" he whispers to her in the night – oh, she wants so badly to be dreaming right now.

She has to sigh. "No. I'm sorry." She closes her eyes, willing to succumb to the fantasy of a dream. "It's not your fault."

She does not expect him to answer, "But it was. My fault, I mean." So why, when he does, is she not surprised? Some part of her just knew, like it did before with Mal.

"I know." Her knowing smile irks him enough scream back at her.

"Shut up and listen, Ariadne! It's my fault he's down there, you hear me? My fault, God dammit! I . . . I wasn't thinking clearly. I was drunk before I went into that God damn dream! Now . . ."

"Now he's in limbo with no architect, and I'm here with no point man," she whispers.

That's when she cries herself to sleep. To the dream. (To him.)

. . .

In her dream, her point man is there – silent and mysterious and knowing. He never speaks – usually – but just kisses. It's the closest she can come to the real thing, but it's enough. (But not enough to ever fully satisfy.) That suits her just fine, as long as he is there.

But not tonight. Tonight, after her conversation with Cobb, she wants the real thing. She wants the real Arthur to come back, or at least be so kind as to let her be with him in limbo. She wants to design for him until they grow old in limbo, and again in their youthful state. (She wants to be his architect. Oh, so, so badly.)

She wants her Arthur back. Wants him to escape limbo to come back to her.

. . .

She learns to hold that small piece of Arthur close to her – his ability to notice everything. She honors his memory – his life, his entire being – by doing just that: noticing.

(A man with black hair that doesn't come close to Arthur's. [No one could ever copy that perfect shade.] A couple holding hands, wedding rings on their fingers – she doesn't get to marry Arthur. [Not anymore. Oh, Arthur, why did you leave?] An insane asylum with patients that seem saner than she does. [But their disease is just in the mind. Her illness haunts her everywhere.])

She passes college, making the best of her year. (After her "trip" she became wiser, that no one could deny.) She's not all that happy – the only thing she's doing is going through the motions. None of it means anything anymore – not even the gossips floating senselessly around her.

But nobody at school knew she'd fallen in love along the way.

. . .

She should let go of her projection, before she becomes too attached. Cobb warns her, but she won't be stupid and let Arthur turn into "Mal" all over again.

It's not healthy, this addiction to the dreaming. But it's the only place Arthur still lives. It's the only place where she can hold him, and he'll hold back. Where she'll kiss him, and he'll kiss back.

It's the only place he's somewhat sane. (She doesn't admit this to herself, but it's also the place where his ghost lingers the most – taunting her, calling her. [Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!])

And she cannot give that up. People can take Arthur away, but they cannot take what little piece of him she holds in her memories – in her dreams. People may Extract things, may pull away her secrets, revealing the naked truth – but this, this perfect man, is the one thing they will not have. She will not let them.

She doesn't let go of her projection, of her shadow of something beautiful.

. . .

You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling.

And she is not. (Oh, no, she is fear-less.) What else is there to fear anymore? She has been stripped of everything – her love, her friends . . . her abilities.

She has turned into Cobb all over again. (She was supposed to follow in her mentor's footsteps, but not like this.)

She cannot write. Cannot draw. Cannot create the buildings that tower over her into oblivion. (She wishes she still could; Arthur loved watching her draw, says she's the best he's ever seen. But being the best has its downsides, just like everything else.)

Arthur follows her there, if she tries. (She has learned to stop trying. [The real Arthur would say to never give up, but she just doesn't have the strength anymore.]) He is silent and deadly, disappearing into the shadows as though they were his own flesh.

She feels relief when she sees him, and then longing – and finally betrayal, when he pulls the trigger or something just as radical. The betrayal when she wakes turns itself into grief.

She's not the architect anymore. (She just can't do it, because he's not the point man anymore.)

. . .

She wants so desperately for her dreams to become reality [the good ones, anyways]. (But does she? Does she really? {To this, she has no answer at all.})


I'm a little late with seeing this movie, aren't I? Well, I'm thinking it's my new favorite. And this is my new favorite pairing . . .