Title: Reset, Repeat
Author: Shylace
Premise: In the office of his temporary Parisian apartment, among the many files that crowd the shelves is one on Ariadne. He hoped he would never have to look at that file again, but what happens when the team's new architect turns out to be his former mark?
"I've found my architect," Cobb announces when he comes back to the warehouse. "Her name is Ariadne Minosas. Twenty three years old, dual Greek and French citizenship, and Miles mentioned something about her late father being very wealthy, but for some reason, the situation surrounding his death prevented her from inheriting as much as she should have. Other than that, she seems like an average grad student now, but we should probably run a background check on her anyway."
By "we," Cobb really means just Arthur because delving into the details is after all the point man's job, but instead of agreeing, Arthur frowns and says warily, "Twenty three? Isn't that a little too young for a job of this magnitude?"
Cobb fixes his eyes on his colleague in surprise. "Oh really? I seem to recall a certain young man pulling off an extremely audacious heist with me on the eve of his twenty-first birthday. Since this girl comes so highly recommended by Miles, who's to say she won't have that same kind of talent?"
And though he still looks troubled as if he wants to argue more, Arthur nods and turns back to his desk in pretense of busying himself with something. As soon as Cobb leaves the room, the point man slumps down in his chair with a sound of frustration. He won't do the background check today or the next day because there's no need. In the office of his temporary Parisian apartment, among the many files that crowd the shelves is already a file on Ms. Minosas, a file which he had hoped he would never have to look at again.
She doesn't look any different from when he last saw her five years ago. Opalescent skin in contrast to her dark hair. Delicate, girlish features. She could in fact still pass for an eighteen year old, the ghost of the eighteen year old she was when they knew each other. Her wardrobe on the other hand has changed, though he supposed that back then, she mostly wore what her mother selected. Designer clothing replaced by a casual tee, a thrift store jacket with a hole in the right sleeve, and a scarf that was definitely not purchased from Hermès. So unlike his last memory of her. She had worn a red dress; even so, he had been able to perceive the stain of blood on that dress, and the blood on her hands and on her dress had made her scream…
Ariadne jolts awake, gasping, and she looks so frightened, so much like last time, that he is at her side in a moment, trying to soothe.
"That's some subconscious you've got on you, Cobb! She's a real charmer." Ariadne cradles her head in her hands and only looks up when Arthur mentions his totem. She looks at the red die and then at him. For a moment, he is certain that there is a flicker of recognition in those wide eyes, and a surge of dread, anticipation, both rises in him. Her rapid exit squashes the feeling, and he hopes that if she knows what's good for her, she won't return.
Just as Cobb predicted though, Ariadne comes back, and afterwards, the situation is both worse and better because it's just the two of them alone.
He's tackling paperwork at his desk, barely aware of the German opera resounding from his laptop when she strides over one day and clicks on the pause button.
"I think we should take a break and work on expanding your taste in music, no offense to Wagner."
A half-smile pulls at Arthur's lips. "Let me guess, you want to introduce me to The Smiths or the Pixies or perhaps Wolfmother?"
Ariadne looks a bit taken aback. Recovering quickly, she crosses her arms and asks him lightly, "So does your file on me include how I like my coffee?"
She's gauging him, he realizes. She doesn't seem so much annoyed as she is curious about how much he knows about her. He's sure though that her curiosity would very swiftly morph into horror if he were to reveal exactly how much he knows, that he knows how her father died, that he knows why she hasn't spoken to her mother for years, that he knows why she fled like a criminal when the guilt truly belonged to him and him alone.
"You don't like the taste of coffee," Arthur says softly. But you love the smell, the fragrance of it as it steamed from your father's cup, prepared in the Turkish way. "You do however, enjoy a variety of tea."
Ariadne remains quiet for a moment, fingers playing with the tassels on her scarf. "Well, would you mind putting work on hold to have some tea with me?"
Arthur hesitates. This is familiar territory, and in his line of work, the familiar, the triggering of memories, can be dangerous.
Five years earlier – June
The left-wing newspapers in Europe frequently refer to Mr. Minosas as the epitome of capitalist scum. After a string of takeovers, a widely circulated American cartoon depicted Minosas grasping at straws with the speech bubble declaring, "I drink your milkshake!" Face to face with the Greek magnate, Arthur decides that the man does indeed resemble Daniel Plainview with his mustache and old-fashioned suit. Arthur himself is clothed in a newly purchased Dior Homme suit, the appearance of a young employee trying to impress his boss.
"I'm old," Minosas says abruptly. "These days, there's this one worry that constantly nags at my mind. You probably are aware that I have only one child, and she's not interested in business at all. She tells me that she wants to study architecture of all things. Architecture for god's sake."
With an easy smile, Arthur proffers a cigar and lights it for the other man before saying, "But surely, like all women, she loves money, doesn't she? Besides, getting into this business means that she'll be building more grandiose things than apartment complexes. She'll build empires."
Minosas beams, pleased. "You should tell her that. Would you like to meet her?"
"I'd love to." So far so good. Everything was going as planned, and when the daughter came in, he would charm her as easily as he had charmed her father.
Except Ariadne is nothing like he expected. When her father leaves the room to allow "the kids to get to know each other," Arthur immediately turns to the techniques Eames had taught him, and she in turn becomes more and more hostile.
"All right, new boy," she snaps in response to his offer of grabbing a coffee together. "Do you honestly think you're the first one to try and smooth talk the boss's daughter so her 'Daddy' will give you that promotion? I've been harassed by your type since I was fifteen so please, just stop."
She's yanking open the door to leave when Arthur says, "You don't like coffee." Internally, he feels furious at himself. Information on what the mark prefers to drink and eat, on what possible substances to slip a drug into is essential to the job.
"What?"
"You like tea."
Ariadne looks almost amused. "Yes, I do, but you still have to find yourself another drinking buddy." There's a pause before she says nonchalantly, "I also like guys who dress their age."
Arthur's about ready to call Eames because the plan isn't working anymore when he realizes that she's giving him another chance. He loosens his tie. Time to improvise.