Disclaimer: While this story in particular is mine, Inception does not belong to me, it was the lovely work of Christopher Nolan, and "Start a Fire" also does not belong to me, it belongs to the ridiculously talented and sexy Ryan Star.

I remember drinking as the stars were falling,

I remember dancing on the hotel's unmade bed.

So wake up, wake up dreaming, and lie here with me

So wake up, wake up dreaming, and lie here with me.

Here we go, just lose contro,l and let your body give in,

To the beat of your heart as my hand touches your skin,

Is this love or just sexual desire?

We're gonna start a fire!

I hated waiting for him. He refused to let me go into the dream, insisting that this job needed his complete focus while he was under, and if he had to worry about me the whole time, he could not do that. I begged. He still said no. He has to be the only man that has ever been able to do that to me. Maybe it's because I let him get away with it. Not all of the time, of course, sometimes he did have to bend to my will. Ariadne gets what Ariadne wants most of the time, but when he got so adamant, like he did in this case, I did not try so hard, because I knew two things: 1. I was going to lose eventually anyway and 2. Arthur did nothing without reason, so if he was this adamant about her staying home and waiting in agony to find out if he was okay, there had to be a reason. Besides, it was nice to have someone worry about me and want to take care of me, and I guess I had to give in to someone eventually.

I poured a glass of wine and went to sit out on the balcony of the hotel room. It was a beautiful night without a cloud in the sky, so the stars were breathtaking. I don't know how long I sat out there, sipping at my wine, occasionally getting up to get another glass, and attempting to read a book, but the more I drank, and the longer I sat, and the longer it took for Arthur to come back, the more I started to worry. It's not that I had any reason to worry. In all honesty, most of the time the jobs Arthur took and the people Arthur dealt with were straightforward and not terribly dangerous, but sometimes…

Sometimes…

What if this job was one of those times?

And what if the job wasn't a success?

What if Arthur never came back home to me?

And, worst of all, what if Arthur failed and never came back home because of a design flaw in my levels? I could never forgive myself.

Just as I was getting good and worked into a frenzy, I saw a shooting star, and I made a wish for my Arthur to always come back to me. It's not like I thought it would necessarily work, but, hey, it was worth a shot right? It always was when it came to him.

I got up to check the time, and noticed it was nearing 3am, and decided that it was probably time to sleep. It would probably help pass the time more quickly and help me keep from worrying myself into a nervous wreck. I hoped that, when I woke up, Arthur would be home, and this whole thing would be over, and we would have some time to ourselves. Arthur promised me two weeks of just us. I was going to make sure he kept that promise.

I woke up and stared at the dim room, slightly hazy from the, I'm assuming, small amount of sleep I had. Looking at the clock, I saw that it was 6am, confirming that I had, in fact, only been asleep for 3 hours. With a groan, I flipped over and closed my eyes, hoping to easily and quickly sink back into slumber.

"Hey beautiful," said a deep voice somewhere in the darkness.

"Arthur?" I asked, suddenly wide awake, searching the room for him. I finally saw him in the doorway. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long. Just a few minutes before you woke up."

"Are you okay?"

"Of course I am."

"What took you so long?"

"Slight delay in starting the job, then a slight issue during, and I had to tie up a few loose ends. I'm sorry. I should have called, but I thought you might be in bed. I didn't want to wake you."

"That's sweet, but how many times have I told you that I don't care if you wake me up. Now, just come over here. I missed you."

He chuckled softly, but joined me all the same. In that damn suit.

"Arthur, you know my rule, you can't sleep in your suits. Lose it."

"Maybe I had an idea for getting rid of it piece by piece."

I turned towards him, "Oh really?" He just grinned at me, then kissed me. I smiled into that kiss and began pulling the suit jacket off, which is bloody hard lying down, but he helped a little. He didn't let me go any further, however, before he was pushing me back down against the bed. I whined in frustration, but Arthur paid no attention. Instead, he busied himself with ridding me of my clothes and kissing the life out of me. The man was nothing if not focused, controlled, and determined. It made for an interesting sex life, actually, because that focus caused him to pay incredibly close attention to me. Throughout the night, however, his control over himself would steadily slip, and I would be left with this wild man, and somehow that managed to be even better. I liked it when he was controlled and making sure I was enjoying myself, but there was something about when he lost control. It was incredibly sexy, and his frantic movements were nothing short of mind-blowing. For all of these reasons, rather than fighting him for control and fighting to remove his clothes, I allowed him to take the lead. We would get there eventually, and it was bound to be a raging fire of passion.

Afterwards, we were lying in bed watching television and just enjoying each other's company. I was comfortable, nestled against Arthur, warm and content.

These were the best moments—the moments when we were cuddled together, talking or watching television, and savoring the moment. They didn't happen nearly often enough. I looked at him at that thought.

"Do you ever wish you could just leave extraction? Just leave it and never come back? We have plenty of money, you know. We could settle down and just be together. Not that we have to stop working, you know. I have a perfectly good architecture degree, and you have your physics degree. What if we just quit?"

Arthur just stared at me for a moment, a look of intense curiosity on his face. I just stared back. "You don't really want that, Ari."

"Oh, I don't? And what, pray tell, makes you the expert on what I do and don't want."

"Ari, I remember how you got into this business. You were captivated with the pure creation of dreams, and you just couldn't stay away, even with Cobb and his subconscious at the helm. To this very day, I see the same captivation in you. You could give it up, but you would miss it."

"What about you though?"

"A degree in physics, and military background may provide me with options, especially with no financial push, but dreams…extraction…I was born to be the point man. Since I've met you, since almost losing Conn, since the intensity of the inception…I have considered leaving. To be honest, though, I cannot make myself leave right now."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just know I want to stick with it a little while longer. Add to my stock of cash, maybe decide what else I want to do with my life, you know. "

"But eventually you want to get out of the dream business?"

"Someday, when we've both had our fill, yes, I would like to get away from it. Maybe actually have a normal life with you. A life that won't require you to sit up for hours, drinking wine on some random hotel balcony waiting on me to come home."

Wait, what? How did he know that?

As if sensing my confusion he said, "You left the glass outside. Oh, and the bottle. A bottle that was over half full when I left, might I add. So the what and the where was fairly obvious, and, after spending a year living in the same space with you, I know your habits. Anytime you worry you drink and you tend to get forgetful." I just stared at him. "I'm your live in boyfriend of a year and the point man, love, I pay attention to details that concern you."

"What if I decided to quit?"

"You won't. Not now."

"Stop being Mr. Smarty-Point Man and just answer the damn question in the way it is asked."

"If you decide you want to quit, then quit. I can find another architect. Not nearly as talented, of course, and not nearly as beautiful, and the company won't be as good, but I'm sure I can find someone to suffice." Then he smiled that crooked, gorgeous smile, and all I could do was smile back…and make him dance around the room with me, which, of course, mainly consisted of me dragging him around while I tried to dance.

Want to know the best thing about dancing in a bedroom? The bed is wonderful for stunts. If you fall, you have something to break it. In most aspects of my life, it was Arthur who was there to break my fall, but when I was dancing, it was all about the bed. One day, when I finally decide to get away from dreams, probably the most difficult stunt I will ever pull, I'm going to need Arthur, but I might need the bed too, because some hardcore dancing may be in order.