My second Cobb/Ariadne. 1/7/11 P.U.L.L. post for Bookaholic711's anti-writer's block project.
Disclaimer: Inception isn't mine, and neither is Neon Trees' song "Animal," from which this story's title was obtained.
Enjoy!
~ Take a Bite of My Heart Tonight ~
Their first kiss is a complete accident and a clumsy blessing. Later, Ariadne would tease and tease him, insisting that he fell against her on purpose, though he denies doing anything of the sort.
The night it happens, Ariadne is beautiful in a soft, humble sort of way under the orange-gold light of the restaurant, delicate and slim in the russet-red dress she's chosen. Her earthen-brown eyes gleam with a sharp wit she does nothing to hide, bringing a rare flush to Arthur's cheeks as she comments suggestively on the blond-haired woman she saw him with the other day.
They're all here, gathered under one roof again for the first time in several months. Saito, despite how busy he's been since Fischer disbanded his father's company, has taken some of his time to make an appearance. He invited them here for a celebration of sorts, to congratulate Dom on his success with the inception.
Dom had been about to decline the offer—he wanted to spend time catching up with his children, not buttoning up in a suit and visiting a stuffy restaurant—but something in Ariadne's gaze when she delivered the invitation kept him from saying no.
Maybe the fact that she didn't even have to convince him to have dinner with her is something he should be worried about.
"They'll be fine."
Ariadne's voice stirs him from his musings. She looks up at him with a small, reassuring smile on her face, though he doesn't know who she's referring to.
"Who'll be fine?" he asks.
"Your kids." Ariadne casts a glance over at the rest of the team. They're sitting at a table almost on the other side of the room, well out of hearing range. "I know you're thinking about them," Ariadne says. "After a while, it gets easy to read you."
Dom leans back on his heels, mildly affronted. He knows he perplexes even Arthur sometimes, and he's known the younger man for much longer than he's known the petite, daring woman at his side, but here she is, saying she can read him without even trying.
"You didn't see their faces," he says, turning his head away to peer aimlessly through a window. It's dark outside. James and Phillipa hate the dark. He should be there to comfort them.
"I looked at their faces before I left," he continues, "and…I saw it in their eyes. They thought I was leaving them for 'work' again, this time for good. I had to hold James for a few minutes before he stopped begging me not to go."
Turning back to her, he sees that her eyes are filled with sympathy, something he's never seen from her before. A strange, inexplicable urge to wipe the sadness from her gaze rises in him, and he adds with a small smile, "But they let me go when I told them you'd be here. I guess they think you're trustworthy enough to catch me and drag me back home if I try to run off again."
Ariadne grins. Her smile chases the uncertainty from his chest, and just like that, he's feeling better, lighter.
Eames calls them from the table, but they both ignore him.
"Cobb," Ariadne says, her voice lilting with mirth, but he never finds out just what she was about to say. At that moment a tall, broad-shouldered man blunders through the restaurant's entrance and careens directly into Dom. He stumbles, losing his balance, and crashes into Ariadne, pushing her against the wall.
For a second, they're both completely still. His lips are pressed clumsily to the corner of her mouth, his hands on either side of her. He draws back so quickly the room spins. Ariadne stares up at him with wide brown eyes, her face glowing and pink with shock in the warm light.
"Sorry," he chokes out.
Ariadne smiles weakly and replies, "It's…don't, uh, don't worry about it. It's fine."
Something hot and needling rises in Dom's stomach. "No, it's not," he says, and whirls on the man who knocked him down. One look tells him that the idiot is drunk, very drunk, not worth getting worked up about.
Instead, Dom calms himself and takes a step back as the waiters hurry forward to get the stumbling, slurring drunk under control. "We're so sorry, sir," one of them says as they lead the man out. "Is there anything we can get you?"
"No, forget it," Dom replies. It's only then that he notices how quiet the restaurant has become, how many eyes have danced from their food to pin him down instead. He has the vague, terrible feeling that the walls are closing in on him. Ariadne still leans against the wall where she fell, glaring at the restaurant patrons with a pugnacious tilt to her delicate chin.
"Excuse me," Dom says formally, watching as Ariadne jumps and stares at him in confusion. He gives her a short nod. "Just give me a moment."
To Dom's surprise, she doesn't immediately try to follow him outside. She stays behind, slumped against the wall as he hurries from the restaurant on feet that cannot carry him out fast enough.
His heart is pounding like he's some lovesick teenager who's just gotten his first kiss. Dom runs his hands through his hair and takes a few steps in several directions, pretending not to notice the curious looks people cast him as they pass by.
His mouth is dry, his hands shake. He hasn't felt like this since he asked Mal to marry him.
What on earth just happened back there?
"Dammit," Dom mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets in an attempt to make them stop trembling. Against his better judgment, he looks back inside the restaurant, where Ariadne still stands where he left her. That far-away, shell-shocked look remains plastered on her face. As he watches, one of her small hands lifts to touch the corner of her mouth. She drops her hand in a sudden, jerky motion and whips her head around to stab him with her gaze. One, two, three sharp strides of her legs and she's at the door, pushing through, her hands on his chest as he tries to step past her and retreat inside.
"No way, Cobb," Ariadne says, giving him a saccharine smile. "You're not running away from this one."
"I'm sorry, Ariadne, it was an accident," Dom stumbles, feeling helpless and out of his league under this diminutive woman's hands. She laughs and shakes her head, auburn waves bouncing along her bare shoulders.
"Cobb, you're acting like I'm gonna attack you," she jokes. "Relax."
Slowly, he nods and stops trying to slip past her. Satisfaction turns Ariadne's eyes smug. "Good," she says, and laces her fingers through his. He doesn't try to resist this time, only stares at her questioningly; he knows her well enough to understand that opposition only makes her more determined.
"Let's go for a walk."
Ariadne tugs him down the street. The air is cold out here and turns their breath into silver clouds that vanish in an instant. Dom focuses on this instead of the way Ariadne's slim fingers warm his, or the way the city lights gleam off her shoulders. Her step is quick and confident as she leads him from the sidewalk into a small, quiet park.
Dom pulls his fingers free, ignoring the brief flash of regret he feels at the loss of contact. "Any particular reason you dragged me all the way out here?" he asks. In the middle of the park a silent fountain gleams yellow from the light of the lampposts surrounding it. Dom takes a seat on a nearby bench and slides his hands into his pockets.
Ariadne sits next to him. Too close. He discreetly tries to shift away, but stops when her hand encircles his wrist.
"How long are we going to play at this?" she asks. Her mouth and eyes are serious in the yellow light, unsmiling. She's caught him in a trap of words and the accidental touch of his lips against hers, and he's not entirely sure he can break free this time.
He tries anyway. "You must be cold," he says, making a move to slide out of his suit jacket. Something angry flares in Ariadne's eyes.
"Cobb."
Fine. Screw it. Dom drops his hands from his jacket and snaps in a barely-controlled voice, "Fine, Ariadne. What do you want to talk about?"
Ariadne isn't daunted by his waspish tone in the slightest. "I want to talk about what just happened back there."
Dom draws in a long, deep breath. "It was an accident. That's all."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure!" She leans back from his outburst and he sighs, trying to calm himself down. "Ariadne, I know what you're trying to get at. But we can't. All right? We can't."
He shouldn't have used that word—can't—should have known how much that word aggravates her. Not since her introduction to the dream world has Ariadne used the word "can't."
"Why not?" Ariadne challenges. Seeing him about to answer, she snaps, "And if you say it's because I'm too young, I will slap you."
No, he would never say that. Age is a ridiculous thing to worry about in their relationship. Ariadne is much too mature, much too brave and self-assured to have concerns about something as trivial as her age.
"It's not that," he insists.
"James and Phillipa?" Ariadne guesses. Again, Dom shakes his head; not that, either. Since the inception, Ariadne has been staying at his house, balancing her studies abroad and simultaneously learning more about the dreaming landscape. The children adore her, even have a little pet name they use—Miracle Lady, because she's the only one who can get answers out of him when he clams up tighter than a locked vault. She's pushy and prying, but he's not arrogant enough to deny that he is secretive and solitary to a fault.
Ariadne is the only one who can bring him back when he pulls himself away. Sometimes, he is so thankful to have her near him that his breath catches in his throat and he can't breathe for the fierce, all-consuming love he feels for this small woman.
"Not the children," Dom counters. He wracks his brain for reasons, almost convinced that this is for the best. "You deserve someone happier," he finally answers. "Someone with less baggage than me. I'm too complicated for you."
Too burdened by the guilt of a much older, miserable man.
"Cobb," Ariadne says with a humorous twitch of her lips, "if you haven't noticed already, that 'baggage' is what that drew me to you in the first place." She pauses, drinking in his expression. Then, as if she truly can't understand, she asks, "Why won't you let yourself be happy?"
Because, he almost wants to say, I'm not sure I know how to do that anymore.
Instead, he pays attention to the way the hair on the back of his neck prickles and calls out, refusing to break eye contact with the woman before him, "Eames, go back to the others. This is none of your business."
Ariadne wrinkles her forehead in confusion. A moment later, one very embarrassed-looking Forger pops out from behind a silver van.
"Well, look at that!" Eames shouts, faking surprise. "How did I get here? Hm, can't remember. I must be dreaming." Even across the street, Dom can see that the man's eyes are gleaming with mirth. "Actually, this is a rather amusing dream, I think I'll stay…"
"Eames," Dom says warningly.
"Right. Going, going. Was just wondering where you'd gone off to. I'll let the rest of your lot know that you're fine, shall I?" Eames turns and saunters down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets. Then, as if struck by a random thought, he pivots back around and asks with a jaunty grin, "Oh, but you are going to kiss her again, aren't you? Yusuf and I have this bet, you see—"
This time, both Dom and Ariadne raise their voices. "Eames!"
"Alright, alright!" His laughter streaming behind him like a curl of weightless smoke, Eames strides off down the sidewalk and disappears around the corner. Ariadne and Dom exchange glances.
"You know the story he's going to tell the team will be completely blown out of proportion," Dom smiles. Ariadne chuckles, shaking her head.
"Actually, aside from the initial annoyance, I don't think I would mind."
Immediately, some of the humor drifts from the atmosphere. "Ariadne…" Dom draws her name out, tired of fighting her against something he wishes he could have with all his corrupted soul. "Believe me, it's nothing to do with you. I want to. But it goes against everything, every rule…"
"In case you haven't noticed, Cobb," Ariadne says with a dangerous glint in her eyes, "I don't really care about rules."
She moves forward, reaching out to cup his face and draw him to her, and then her lips are on his, kissing, teasing, making his heart hammer in his chest like a frenzied drum. Everything is lost in a haze of heat and touch. Dom reaches up, tangles his fingers in her hair, crushes her against him.
Briefly, his previous misgivings rise up behind him like old haunts. Without a second's hesitation, he brushes them aside and lets them spin away into the distance.
Screw the rules. He's never really followed his own laws, anyway.
A high-pitched ringing pierces his ears. Dom waits for Ariadne to draw away, but when she doesn't, neither does he. Only when his cell phone screech again does he pull back with a sigh. Ariadne smirks at him with tousled hair and swollen lips.
"Gonna get that?" she murmurs against his mouth.
Dom is about to say no when the phone rings again. He sighs and answers, "Unfortunately," before pulling the aggravating device from his pocket.
"Daddy!" Two young voices immediately cry. Dom looks up and meets Ariadne's stunned eyes. The kids? She mouths. He nods.
"James, Phillipa! Hey guys, what's wrong? Why'd you call?"
"I told him not to, Dad," Phillipa says, "but he kept saying that you were going to leave us."
"I did not!" James protests. "When are you coming home, Dad?"
Ariadne touches Dom's hand gently and gives him an encouraging smile. The sight of her disheveled and flushed from his touch, smiling and supporting him, is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
"Soon," Dom says. "Soon, guys."
"Is Ari with you?"
"Yeah," Dom says, twining his fingers through those of the small, brave woman who changed his life.
"Is she coming home with you?"
One look at her smile is all it takes to let him know. "Yeah," Dom says, even as Ariadne slumps against the bench in relief, squeezing his hand as if she's never going to let go. "Yeah, I think she is."
Their first kiss is undeniably an accident. But Dom never regrets it.
A/N: End. Like/love/dislike? Please review.
-Kimsa