Author's Note: Ta-da! My first Inception fic! A couple of things, though, before you read: 1. I've only seen the movie twice. Please don't tear me to shreds over a few mistakes. 2. Allete is the name of Arthur and Ariadne's dream-daughter. It means "winged" in French, in case you're wondering. 3. This has no real plot to it. It's just mindless fluff that I wrote at midnight while nursing a really bad headache. Feel free to enjoy it anyway.
Disclaimer: I don't own. I'm not smart enough to have come up with that idea.
Arthur stepped across the cold cement floor of the empty warehouse, his footsteps echoing in the distance. When he stopped in the middle of the room, a deafening silence settled across the storehouse. He sighed and set the shiny silver briefcase on the makeshift table made of old milk cartons. After running a few checks on the machine and gathering the various chairs around the table, the Point Man checked his watch. The team had agreed to meet at the designated warehouse at Noon. According to his extremely expensive Rolex watch, Arthur read that it was now twelve-forty-five. Where are they? Before the thought barely crossed his mind, Arthur heard the familiar click of high-heels against the pavement. Seconds later, Ariadne appeared, clutching both her purse and her sketchbook against her chest.
"I am so sorry. I was finishing this sketch-" Her explanation was cut off when she looked up only to realize that Arthur was the only one there. "I know I am late, but I didn't think I was so late that everyone else already left?"
Arthur chuckled slightly. "No, you're actually only the second one here. I have no idea where the others are."
"Oh," Ariadne sighed. An awkward silence passed between the two as they stood in the afternoon sun streaming through the windows, shifting their weight uncomfortably in the quietness of the moment. "Well, I was planning on going under for a few minutes. I want to test the new set I was working on all morning. Do you mind keeping watch for me?"
Arthur shrugged, walking over to the PASIV and firing it up. "Not at all."
Ten minutes later and Ariadne was fast asleep, a slight snore escaping her mouth. Every few minutes, Arthur would glance up from his laptop where he was working on the research of their potential new client to check on the Architect. More than once, though, he caught himself staring, just watching her sleep. As much as he hated to actually admit it to himself, the way she was curled up on the lounge chair, with her arms tucked under her head and her breathing calm and steady, was quite adorable. The slight smile that illuminated her facial features piqued his interest ever the more. Finally, he had enough of sitting around and watching her sleep. He wanted to know just what was going through that pretty little head.
Ariadne smiled, looking over her work. Her latest architecture sketch had been more of a personal one- a small house in the countryside. The house looked like something straight out of a real estate magazine, so perfect and eloquent. It was two stories with a very victorian feel. The front door was covered by a wrap-around porch, leading to the back porch. And just above it, a large balcony with metal railing and french doors. The house itself was a pale crème color with a white trim. To Ariadne, it was simply stunning. It may as well have been some of her best work.
Inside, the house was even more magnificent. Directly off the front hallway was a grande parlor, complete with large windows and beautiful drapery. Further on down the hallway was a kitchen, dining room, bathroom and staircase. Up the stairs was three separate bedrooms and another bathroom. Ariadne could hardly believe she had built this- it seemed like something she had seen in a movie or read in a book. Maybe it was?
As she was walking down the main hallway, a movement in the parlor caught her eye. It was a projection of a young girl, playing with a doll on the floor. The child looked to be no more than four or five and had on a soft pink sundress. When Ariadne peered closer at the child, she could see that the young girl looked extremely familiar. She had Ariadne's long brown hair and Arthur's mysterious brown eyes. The longer she stared, the more Ariadne could see of Arthur's and her own features in the child. Did that mean this girl in front of her was her and Arthur's child? Suddenly, the girl jumped up and ran to Ari.
"Mommy!" The child screamed. Ariadne whirled, running down the hallway. She had never dealt with projections of children before, other than Cobb's. Were they as dangerous as the adult ones? Not looking where she was going, Ari felt herself collapse into something hard and sturdy. Unexpectedly, Arthur's laugh echoed through the room.
"Hello, love. Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Ariadne gasped at the thought of Arthur in her dream. He was supposed to be doing research, back at the warehouse. What was he doing here? Except... something wasn't right about him. His voice was slightly off, an octave or two too low. And his demeanor didn't seem right. That's when she realized- this wasn't Arthur. Just a projection of him. "Come now, why don't you relax with little Allete and I in the parlor? You look absolutely exhausted, love."
Ariadne felt herself nodding, slowly realizing what was going on. Casually, she glanced down at her left hand. Two beautiful rings graced her fourth finger, one with a large diamond embedded in it- obviously an engagement ring- and the other a simple gold band- obviously a wedding ring. That's when it hit her: In this dream, her and Arthur were married with a daughter and a lovely home.
Now she just had to determine where had this all come from? Sure, she like Arthur a little more than what was professionally appropriate, but did she really see herself married to him? And with a child? Yes. Ever since that kiss between them in the Fischer case, she had wanted nothing more than to be with him.
Picking up a lead to the PASIV device, Arthur inserted the slim needle into his wrist. Soon enough, the soothing rush of the sedative washed over him and he was thrust into a deep sleep.
He was in the countryside- that much he could tell from his surroundings. A field with spots of trees and a large house covered every inch of territory he could see. Not a sound could be heard, other than the occasional "moo" of a cow and the wind rustling through the grass. Why would Ariadne build this? It's not a maze of any sorts. Maybe it was a training course? Arthur shrugged and started up the steps to the front porch of the house, taking a few seconds to admire the handiwork of the architect who had build it.
Inside the house, he could hear voices. Projections? Maybe. He walked further into the house and stopped just before he arrived at the grande room. He peered around the corner of the doorframe, looking in at the occupants of the room. Ariadne sat on the floor, a small child on her lap with a doll in it's hands. On the leather recliner in the corner sat Arthur himself. Well, the projection of Arthur. Which must mean that the child is also a projection... Ariadne, what are you thinking?
Suddenly, Projection Arthur's head snapped to look at something in the hallway. Arthur thought for sure he that had been found out; that he was done for. But to his astonishment, the Projection Arthur stood from his chair, mumbled an excuse to Ariadne and the girl and walked right past the real Arthur in the hallway. Like cog wheels turning in a machine, Arthur thought up a plan. He snuck up behind Projection Arthur in the kitchen area of the house and wrapped his arms around the man's neck. At first the projection had fought back, but then as the pressure on his airway grew he stopped breathing altogether and passed out cold on the floor. The real Arthur smirked at his achievement. Now he just had to hope that Ariadne couldn't tell the difference between a projection and real people.
"Sorry about that, love," He smiled, placing a quick kiss on Ariadne's forehead as he made his way back to his seat.
Instantly, Ariadne's ears perked up at the sound of Arthur's voice. It was different, more real than the projection she remembered. She breathed deeply, taking in the scent of italian leather and Armani. Surely, this couldn't be the real Arthur... could it? Cautiously, she reached down to grab a hold of the golden chess piece in her pocket. No, she was certainly still dreaming.
"Allete, darling, why don't you go play in your room?" Ariadne said, standing up from her position on the floor. Arthur nonchalantly folded down a corner of the newspaper covering his face.
"Okay mommy." The young girl stood from the floor as well and stumbled up the staircase to the second floor of the house.
"Arthur..." Ariadne trailed off, sauntering over to where Arthur sat in the recliner. She perched on the edge of it, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss. Instantly, he melted into the kiss, snaking his arms around her waist. It was a kiss both of them had only dreamt about (and barley even then) since the Fischer case; a perfect, lasting embrace that almost literately gave off sparks at the touch. After a minute or so, both of them were gently gasping for breath. "Arthur, darling, when is my birthday?"
"December eighteenth." Arthur answered automatically with a slight smile. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh no reason," Ariadne lied, cuddling up against his chest. "Where do I live?"
"In an apartment in Paris. Love, what is with the third degree interrogation?" Ariadne smirked to herself. She had caught him with the last one. The projection of Arthur would have answered that she lived in this current house. Not where she actually lived.
"Nothing, Arthur. I'm just testing something." She laughed, "One more question. When is our anniversary?" Heck, even she didn't know that.
Arthur knew he was caught. She's better than I expected, he thought to himself, along with a string of curses. "Um, July seventeenth?" He guessed.
Ariadne sat up in his lap like a flash of lighting, arms still wrapped around his neck. "I knew it was the real you." She smiled. He flashed her a rare grin, holding her tightly.
"I was that obvious, huh?"
She pressed her lips lightly against his, "No. I knew as soon as you walked in the room."
He laughed, "You are better at that than I thought you would be."
She grinned proudly. "Now, here's the real question. What are you doing invading my dreams?"
Arthur glanced down at the ground, hoping to hide the faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. "You looked so happy... I just wanted to see what you were thinking."
Ariadne rolled her eyes, also blushing from the embarrassment of being caught in this dream, of all dreams to be caught in. "So, you're not upset I was dreaming about you?"
"No, not at all." Arthur shook his head, "I'm actually relieved. I didn't think you thought the same way I did."
Ariadne's eyes widened. "You mean..." Arthur smiled sheepishly and nodded. Before either of them could comprehend it, they were again wrapped in an everlasting embrace, lips locked together.
"Should we wake them up?" Eames asked, nudging a sleeping Arthur's leg with his foot.
"Nah, just let them sleep a while," Cobb said, taking the cap off a dry-erase marker and writing something down on the whiteboard.
"They're both smiling like delusional idiots," Eames laughed, "One can only guess what they're dreaming about, darling."
"Oh, I think we both know exactly what they're dreaming about," Cobb chuckled.
If only they knew.
