Capitulation
Disclaimer: I do not own Inception.
Note: I realized when I woke up this morning that I didn't actually tell you the symbolism in Ariadne's jewellery as promised, so it's included at the end of this chapter. Enjoy!
Chapter Seven
"He's looking right at you."
She stiffens. She can't help it. Ariadne knows it's wrong to judge people on first impressions, but the way Connor looks at her, and the way he looks at Arthur...it makes tense goose bumps rise on her arms. The architect concentrates on steadying her breathing as Eames continues to lead her around the floor.
"Can you keep him away from me?" she requests quietly, knowing that this is the first time she's ever asked him for anything. The knowing look in the forger's eyes makes her feel incredibly vulnerable. "He um, he kind of creeps me out."
"Sure thing, darling," he says, unruffled. "Now you just keep filling up that card, alright? You actually have a limited number of dances—"
"Twelve," Ariadne supplies helpfully, thinking of the index card inside her clutch she'd received upon entering. The Englishman nods.
"Right, and if all goes as planned your last one should be with the mark. And if it isn't, well I guess you won't be winning that dinner."
"What a shame that will be," she comments dryly. Eames chuckles. The familiar sound is comforting. "And the elevators are where?"
"Straight through those doors to the left of the entrance. Saito has men posted in that hall, so you shouldn't have any trouble going up. All others will be directed to the ones on the other side of this room, because yours will be out of order."
Ariadne nods, filing that information away for later use. Yusuf's room is in the floor above, and they'd also bought the adjoining room to hers. Staying the night in rooms they'd paid for would only help to solidify their cover once Michelson woke up alone. She supposes that a night in a luxurious bed won't be so bad after all the work they've put into this.
"This is it, Princess," Eames announces as the music comes to an end, leading her back to Kira. "We'll line them up, you knock them down, and by tomorrow afternoon we'll be a million dollars richer."
Ariadne, true to her role just nods and smiles and watches as Eames disappears into the crowd, knowing fully he's scouring for another conquest.
"Friend of yours?" asks Kira as she sits down beside him at the bar and orders a glass of water. The woman makes a small non-committal noise.
"Co-worker. He just likes to flirt. A lot."
"Ah."
There's a pause and Ariadne takes a moment to collect herself and absorb her present situation. She can do this. She's going to be fine. The team is going to be fine, and she'll never have to see Connor Black again. Kira puts a hand on her arm and she starts, turning to look at him. His gentle eyes are concerned.
"You alright?"
She nods; smiling in what she hopes is a reassuring fashion. Her 'date' doesn't press, just takes another swig of the amber liquid in his glass. "So I was thinking."
"Hmm?"
"Since you're going to be such a hot commodity tonight," His smile widens at her derisive snort. "Shouldn't I hang onto you while I can?"
"Is that your weird way of asking me to dance?" Ariadne asks, raising an eyebrow. He ups her by raising both.
"Did it work?"
She laughs and takes his waiting hand.
.a.
Ariadne is pleasantly surprised to find herself having a good time, both dancing with Kira and chatting with him between the nearly a dozen different business men that Eames sends her way. The mark still hasn't shown up, and she still hasn't seen Arthur. They talk about their lives in that superficial way that can't get either of them in trouble, but the architect is still surprised at what she learns.
"You want to be a director?"
Kira grins almost sheepishly. "I actually want to be a creative visionary in the world of film, but yeah. Director would be pretty sweet too."
She can't help but smile back at his exuberant enthusiasm. A normal conversation is so refreshing. "And what do your parents think of that? You're in business, aren't you? Otherwise we wouldn't be here."
"True," he concedes, "But I think they'd be okay with it if I told them. I mean, the job was there for me after college so I just took it. I think it's Uncle Saito who'd need convincing. He's done so much for me in Japan...I wouldn't want to disappoint him, you know?"
Ariadne nods, feeling a stir of empathy for their previous employer. He had so much...she feels somewhat guilty for what he'd suffered during the inception of Robert Fischer. Speaking of her first mark, she'd seen him here too, not dancing, but mingling with the other non-dancing men. He hasn't seemed to notice her, and she prays she hasn't seen the others. It's been so long he may have forgotten, but she isn't sure she wants to take that risk. So, like Connor Black, he is on her list of People to Avoid.
"Yeah. But I think you should just try talking to him. He may just surprise you."
Kira smiles, his eyes becoming distant before refocusing on something closer. "Speak of the devil..."
Saito is headed toward them in steady and proper steps. "Miss Peters. I trust my nephew is behaving himself?"
Ariadne returns the gesture. "He's being a perfect gentleman. We've been having a lovely time."
"Wonderful. I was hoping to be honoured with a dance in your company as well." Crow's feet crinkle at the corners of his normally serious eyes.
"It would be my pleasure." She can't help her smile growing a little wider and hands over her dance card. Saito graciously leads her away, and holds her like a professional gentleman should.
"All goes well I hope?" he asks, quiet and serious. She nods. "Very good. Mr. Black was headed in your direction. I thought I'd better avert your attention."
"Um, thank you," Ariadne stutters in true surprise and gratitude. Saito's smile is brief but sincere.
"Your teammates are very protective of you."
Feeling her cheeks grow hot, the architect can't even think of a reply. She never saw them together. The man doesn't say anything else, and she finally finds the courage to speak, and out comes the first thing she can think of.
"Kira wants to be a film director."
Saito's eyebrows knit together in an expression of confusion. Worried she's overstepped, Ariadne tries to back track. "He um, mentioned it to me earlier."
"Did he now?"
"He doesn't want to disappoint you," she blurts, before she can stop herself. "He doesn't want to think he's disregarding everything you've given him."
Her dance partner's serious expression settles into something she can't recognize. "I wish to give him everything, to help him earn all that he deserves, but I never wished to stand in front of his dreams."
"You should tell him that." Ariadne doesn't know why she's dishing advice out to a man who probably could have cared less about her three months ago, but the inception has changed her. It has changed all of them. Proof of this seems to lie in Saito's nod of consent.
"Thank you, Ariadne."
Surprised at this use of her real name (and also that he actually knows it), she can only smile very softly. "If I had a shred of the family you do," she tells him, "I would do absolutely anything to keep them."
Saito's smile is once again brief, and this time filled with a wisdom that Ariadne will one day search to find. "As you should."
The song ends soon after, and the man inclines his head in goodbye before walking away. Ariadne puts a hand up to her chest, trying to wrap her mind around what's just happened. A real conversation with Saito wasn't exactly something she'd expected. Perhaps she should be used to the unexpected by now. Returning to Kira's side, she fingers the card between her fingers. There are two slots left, and no sign of the mark.
An anxious shiver crawls up her back. What now? Kira, sensing her distress, hands her a glass of water. She drinks, more for something to do than anything else. Her eyes scan the ballroom, littered with dancing pairs and stuffy business men. She thinks she sees Eames on the floor, grinning so easily that Ariadne wants to stalk over and shake him. Can't he see that the mark is not here? And where the hell is Arthur?
Searching for reassurance, Ariadne pulls out her totem and tips it on the bar before returning it to her clutch. For once, she wishes it would stay up. In a dream, it wouldn't matter if the mark didn't show up. It wouldn't destroy everything they've worked for. In a dream she'd be able to see Arthur and his not-quite-smile and know that everything will be okay.
"Er...Arielle?"
She is tempted to whirl around and scream "What?" But she doesn't. Demurely, slowly, like a lady should, Ariadne turns with a smile and a question in her eyes, only to be greeted by the cold, cocky eyes of Connor Black and his ever present (ever revolting) smirk.
She is going to kill Eames.
Kira looks from Ariadne to Connor, confusion scrawled on his face. She wonders if he can see her fear. "Do you know this guy?"
Ariadne opens her mouth to say "No," and then walk away as fast as she can. Connor is still standing there infuriatingly silent and smirking. He has her now. She turns to Kira to beg for another dance, because she is not dancing with Connor Black. She doesn't get to do either of these things, however, as a hand grabs hers, simultaneously spinning and pulling her away from the bar and onto the floor.
Soft cotton sheets, clean soap, and musk assault her senses. Ariadne nearly collapses in relief as she raises her eyes to meet her saviour. Arthur's expression is decidedly grim, but softens as he notices her gaze.
"Thank you," she gets out, almost dizzy. She's shaking, she realizes, and the point man tightens his grip.
"I'm sorry," he says, sounding frustrated. "I looked away for a second."
She shakes her head, trying to relax. "I'm just glad you showed up when you did. But I thought—"
"The mark isn't here," he reminds her quietly. "And I wasn't about to let you dance with Connor."
The music begins to change, from a light jazz to a slower, melancholic piece. Such is the immense comfort in the mere sight of him, Ariadne doesn't resist as Arthur pulls her closer. In her heels, they are nearly the same height. She exhales slowly, trying to regain that sense of calm stolen from her. Arthur's right hand begins to press slow, gentle circles into the small of her back, and she can't help the shiver that rises up her spine before her entire body uncoils like a fallen string.
For the next minute, Ariadne allows herself to enjoy this moment with Arthur; this languid dance and soothing company, the gentleness of his eyes and the softness of his tiny smile. Her small break from seriousness and danger and work is cut short by his voice, low and soft in her ear.
"David Michelson just walked in."
It's as though someone flipped a switch. Ariadne is immediately tense again as Arthur dips his head so low she can almost feel his lips against her ear. "He's watching. Smile."
She does one better. A ridiculous giggle slips from her lips, and a blush immediately stains her cheeks. The point man's exhale of amusement brushes against her throat.
"Ticklish," she hisses, a smile still plastered onto her face. Arthur's grip tightens again, and the enormity of the situation hits like a slap in the face. "He can see you."
"You're commanding his attention." he informs her, unfazed as always. This doesn't help.
"What if he doesn't—" she trips over the question. "What if he doesn't choose me?"
"He will."
"How do you know?" she demands, frustration creeping into her voice. She's staring out at the sea of unknown people, picking out Eames and Kira and Saito like beacons of light.
"Look at me, Ari."
Her face flushing, Ariadne's eyes find Arthur's. They're deep and dark and impenetrable, his expression so serious that she wants to look away. But she doesn't. She's looking right at him when he leans so close they're nearly sharing the same air.
"You are beautiful. He will choose you."
For several long seconds she stops breathing, and clumsily sucks in a breath, blushing hotly. They're still staring at each other, so intently that Ariadne can see it; the ghostly smile that quirks his lips so quickly that she doesn't even blink before it disappears. The music is falling into a decrescendo. Her time is almost up. She knows he can see the real, intense fear that overtakes her eyes.
"We'll be two minutes behind you."
"Promise?" she asks childishly, but unable to stop herself. Arthur nods.
"Promise."
They stop. Arthur takes her hand and leaning low, raises it to his lips. Ariadne's heart thrums painfully inside her chest. His lips are brief against her skin, soft and cool. His fingers brush the inside of her wrist, and the intimacy of the gesture nearly overrides her thought. And then he is gone, disappearing from her sight as though he'd never been there at all.
Author's Note: Before you all reach into the computer to throttle me, I'll have no time to write tomorrow, so it was either post or wait another day. And I wouldn't be a good writer if I didn't do that to you all every so often. I could have not written the scenes with Kira and Saito, but I love my OCs and like them to have backstory. And I think Saito's a pretty cool guy, and deserves his moment of attention.
So please don't kill me.
Ariadne's Jewellery Symbolism: The four bangles represent the four other members of her team (Cobb, Arthur, Eames, Yusuf). The delicate earrings represent her delicate nature, and the butterfly the transformation she undergoes as a person in order to do this job. And, if you want it to, all the work the caterpillar puts in can also symbolise the work put into the building of the Arthur/Ariadne relationship before it blossoms into one of the most beautiful creatures ever.
This story is going to lap Catch Me in review count by the time they've been up for the same amount of time. I'm not even kidding. I'm floored.
Annie
