I don't own Inception.


Ariadne was only dozing off when she heard the front door open and urgent footsteps move towards her bedroom. She grabbed the nearest weapon – her lamp – and prepared herself for attack when Arthur appeared. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Jesus Christ, Arthur, what the hell do you think you're playing at?"

"You have to leave. Now."

"What, you think this is some sort of shared apartment and you're bringing a girl over?"

"They're coming."

Ariadne set her jaw and collected a few essentials to add to her emergency bag. Arthur couldn't help but notice the fact that she was only wearing a slip to bed. Ariadne noticed his attention and cleared her throat.

"And I need to leave because?"

"Because unlike the people who almost questioned you about the Malaysia job, these people are ruthless, without morals or limits."

"So they'll torture me."

The words affected Arthur more than they affected her.

"Yes." He said through clenched teeth. Ariadne filed the reaction away for analysis another time, throwing on an overcoat and boots.

"Lets go then."

Arthur moved for the window rather than the door. "We shouldn't run the risk of colliding with them on the stairs. Its happened before. Not pretty."

Ariadne gracelessly picked her way down the fire escape outside, mindful of the fact that it was two in the morning and she hadn't checked whether this was a dream yet. A sudden lurch as the last set of stairs dropped to the ground while they stood on them made her assume that it was reality, since that kind of movement would have usually woken them up in a dream. She didn't miss the fact that Arthur had instantly held her waist and pressed her form into his torso to prevent her from falling. Rather than be thankful, she felt outraged. She could take care of herself. She shot a look over her shoulder to Arthur, and waited till they had caught the waiting car several blocks away before they got out to find a different route to the airport. The more methods, the different ways all jumbled, was Arthur's best method of escape.

As soon as the car left them in the tiny alleyway, Ariadne let it fly.

"What the hell, Arthur! I can take care of myself."

"Like you did with the Wollen case?"

"Shut it, Arthur." Ariadne pointed a finger at him menacingly, still painfully aware of the feeling in the dream as she was shot in the stomach. "I am not asking for help. So don't help me."

"Fine." He shot back at her, his stance unmoving.

She still didn't reign in her frustration, gazing up at him with flames in her eyes.

"That means leaving me alone."

"I will."

She hated his structure, moving closer in anger.

"That means stop being such an arrogant knight in fucking armor."

"I never was."

His denial was her catalyst.

"Yes you are." She punched her last word with a hit to his bicep, and his stance didn't change.

"I. Can. Take. Care. Of. Myself." She continued, wanting to change him in some way, to alter him, to affect him for a change. Just to see a change in the story granite he was made of.

"So. Stop. Being. So. Damn. Passive."

At that Arthur stopped her blows by catching both her wrists in his hands like cuffs, holding them by her sides. It didn't stop her words.

"You're always so passive, Arthur. Why don't you feel anything? Why don't you show anything? Why don't you do something?"

Arthur caught her mouth with his, hard. There was nothing soft or tender in his actions, nothing like the Fischer job or the brush of a kiss in hiding. Arthur was fierce and demanding. And Ariadne felt herself responding with her own. They pulled back for air, and glared at each other.

"That non-passive enough?" He grated.

"No." She stubbornly challenged.

Arthur's eyes narrowed and he kissed her again; eyes open, challenging her instead. Ariadne couldn't help but close hers and be swept up. That is, till he bit her lip. Her nails dug into his palms in retaliation, and they drew back again.

"Passive." She hissed

"Stubborn." He shot back.

She kissed him this time, fighting for dominance. Just to prove his point, he hoisted her so she was trapped between the alley wall and him, leaving her to wind her limbs around him for some sort of grip. She dragged her nails across his back, he gripped her thighs tightly, she pulled his hair.

But then Arthur changed the game when he softly entwined a hand in her hair and moved to a yearning kiss. It made her change, made her toes curl and a sound escape from the back of her throat. It changed everything. Her fingers caressed the nape of his neck slightly, and he drew back with a sharp intake of breath. He looked at her, his eyes searching for something in the depths of her own. She noticed with a smirk that his eyes were dark with desire and want, pleased to finally get a rise from the blank Point Man. But in the midst of it all, she remembered herself. Who they were running from.

"We'd better get to the airport."

Arthur nodded his agreeance. He carefully set the Architect back down on the ground where she brushed herself down before they continued on, wordlessly. Words could be afforded later.

But they weren't. They were never spoken aloud, merely thought and questioned in their own separate heads.


Just a taste, more to come.
Review so I can cater to your taste?

Thanks,
Light-and-Smoke