A/N: Thought I forgot about you? Life got in the way. Sorry it's been forever.
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I love you, Ariadne."
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She stands motionless near the entrance of the atrium. There's a considerable distance between her and Arthur, but she's noticed that he's slowly made his way over to her, a couple steps with each word spoken. She heard him but doesn't say anything.
"Ariadne?" The tone of his voice is a mixture of confusion and concern. He's moved closer, still.
She wants to tell him that she loves him too, but something stops her. Maybe it was the three months and thousands of miles they spent apart, the way they had left things. But doesn't absence make the heart grow fonder? When she finally does speak, it's barely above a whisper. Like this was their secret. "Can we please talk about this at my flat?"
He nods, in agreement and partial defeat.
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Ariadne's flat is in no shape for entertaining company. She picks up a few things here and there before taking a seat on the couch next to Arthur. She reaches out and takes the rose he holds limply in his hand, the sweets in the other.
"You came all the way to Paris to tell me you loved me?"
He only nods.
"That's sweet, Arthur."
He looks over at her, notices her downcast eyes and asks, "Something wrong?"
"I had a dream – nightmare – about you."
"Oh?"
She nods, reluctant to tell him. "You were…you were dying. I couldn't…I couldn't save you. I tried calling when I woke up. I thought you were…when Eames answered, I thought you were…" She can't finish, she changes the topic, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I love you too, Arthur."
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That night, they go out for a cosy, romantic dinner in Paris' Latin Quarter. They catch up. She tells him about all her classes, what's she's been doing since she left. Between the two of them, they consume a bottle of wine, and head back to Ariadne's flat.
They don't bother with the lights and consequently, end up knocking over piles of books, research papers and movies stacked up on the floor as they navigate their way around her flat. Arthur snagged a belt loop and pulled Ariadne closer to him.
"I missed you, Ari." He admits, kissing her neck and jaw line.
"I missed you, too." Ariadne's heart bumps around inside her chest; she wants to be closer to him. She relaxes into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm glad you're here."
"I don't have to go back. To LA. At least not right away."
"Then don't. Stay here with me over the holidays. Until the New year." He's about to speak, agree and tell her he will, but she places a finger on his lips. "No more talking."
She walks down a short hallway, holding Arthur's hand. He stops her, pointedly looks her in the eyes and asks, "Are you sure about this? I don't want to rush anything…"
"Yea, Arthur. I'm sure." Ariadne gives him a reassuring smile. If she was sure of anything at that moment, it was this.
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Arthur lies awake; Ariadne curled up under his arm. The clock beside her bed reads 2 AM. Sleep is his enemy. No matter how hard he tries, he can't sleep. He can't stop thinking about the botched job back in LA. The Mark had realized that something was wrong, and as a result, he had been shot in the chest (right side), a scar a couple inches below his clavicle. He didn't tell her because he didn't want her to worry, especially after she'd dreamt that he died.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the images that flooded his mind. The gun going off, his bloodstained shirt, the car ride to the hospital, the stitches and pain killers. Instinctively, as if reliving the moment and feeling the immense pain, he placed a hand over the small scar.
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A/N: Blargh. Sorry it's short/terrible. Uhm, so, next chapter…Eames visits, causes problems (oh ho.), it's Christmas and Arthur ice skates. Giving you ~hints. Since I actually have time to write now, it'll be up in a day or two. I promise!
