Disclaimer: I have no claim on Inception, lovely thing that it is.

Arthur and Ariadne were strolling through the Tuileries Gardens. They generally tried to avoid the more touristy areas of Paris unless one of them had a specific purpose for being there, but the Tuileries were a weakness for them both. They would start outside the Louvre (I.M. Pei's glass pyramid was a favourite of Arthur's) and stroll the length of the Gardens to the Place de la Concord. The snow had melted, but the early March air was stubbornly crisp. The Garden's tall trees stood dignified and bare, devoid of green but looking less dead than simply...waiting. Ariadne was looking forward to watching them come back to life in the spring.

They had spent the months since Christmas fairly busy, though not necessarily with the same projects. Arthur was frequently out of town on various fact-finding missions, for Saito and other old contacts in the dream-sharing world, and while Ariadne designed a few small levels for simpler jobs, her main occupation had been designing a real-world project for Anuli.

The other woman had moved into a gorgeous old loft space that had been "modernized" in the 1980s almost beyond recognition. It had good bones, however, and after Anuli had asked Ariadne to take a look at it and give an opinion, she had volunteered to sketch up some ideas. Anuli had loved them so much that she'd hired Ariadne to put them into practice. It was her first actual architecture job since graduating, though she was licensed, and although it took some concentration to adjust for designing a space in which the laws of physics always applied, in the end it was an experience she enjoyed thoroughly. It was a relief to know that she hadn't lost the real-world knack by designing for dreams, and satisfying to walk out of the finished flat knowing that it would still exist the next time she walked in. On top of everything else, it was nice to have options.

So they had kept busy, but hadn't seen much of each other. By the end of February, Ariadne had spent so much time holed up in her office that she was sick of seeing it, and Arthur had realized with a jolt that he missed being home with her. Something needed to be done.

Ariadne took a deep gulp of stinging cold air and smiled to herself. It was so nice to be walking with the man she loved, outside the blasted apartment. She'd missed the outdoors and moving and the way the Paris sun rose in the winter sky. Perhaps she could talk Arthur into continuing past the Place. They had nothing planned today, not really.

"Do you have anything lined up from about the 20th of April on?" He asked, out of the blue.

"What?" Ariadne struggled to bring her mind back to the present and away from the wonderful, outside-the-apartment day she'd been planning in her head. "Um, I don't think so. Is there anything on the calendar?"

Arthur kept a comprehensive calendar of both of their schedules. He was detail-oriented and it made him happy to have all of his ducks in a row. Ariadne didn't mind, as he never scheduled anything for her without first checking, and his memory of her plans was a heck of a lot more reliable than hers was. "No. But we haven't had a lot of time to discuss it lately."

She wrapped her arms around his right arm and snuggled into his warmth, laughing. "Worried I was planning on running away without you?"

"No." She couldn't see his face, but could hear the smile in his voice. "How about running away with me?"

"What? Where?"

"A month, April 20th to May 20th. Can you swing it?"

"I…yes. Yes, there's nothing planned. I was sort of hoping we could take a little break anyways."

"Good."

"Arthur, what's this about? Where are we going? Is there a job?"

"No." They'd reached the Place de la Concord and Arthur took her hand to steer her towards the entrance to the Concord Metro stop.

"Ah—actually, I was hoping we could walk some more."

"We're not going home."

"We aren't? Then where are we—" she watched in bemusement as he bought tickets that took them in the opposite direction, away from the flat. "Is this a new thing you're doing? Putting me totally off my guard to surprise me?"

"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told now, now would it?"

They settled into a pair of seats on the Metro. She studied him the entire ride, willing him to turn and meet her eyes, quirk one of those eyebrows, give her some clue as to what this unexpected excursion was about. He sat determinedly facing forward, though he kept his fingers laced with hers in her lap. A few stops later, he stood, unlatched the nearest door, and pulled her with him into the station.

Ariadne glanced around for the identifying sign. "Sèvres? But this is all shops. You hate shopping." That wasn't precisely true; Arthur had a short list of impeccable tailors located in various cities that he carried around in his head, but on the whole, he didn't enjoy browsing places like the Rue de Sèvres.

"I study people's routines for a living. I've learned the value in being unpredictable."

"You're taking us shopping to be unpredictable?" She glanced behind her at the mostly empty station they were exiting. "Are we being followed?"

"No."

"I—" she huffed out a breath and stopped short outside the Metro exit. "I have no idea what's going on."

He chuckled. "I know," then pulled her back to his side, laid his hand on the small of her back, and steered her down the block. They stopped in front of a familiar storefront, which just confused Ariadne more.

"Le Bon Marche? Really?" Ariadne had come to understand that in Arthur's mind, the worst kind of shopping was department store shopping. Le Bon Marche may have been the oldest store of its kind in the city, but it was still definitely a department store.

"We're picking something up. Come on." He tugged her through the door.

Ariadne had given up on getting any information from him, and instead contented herself with taking the place in. She'd been before, not long after moving to Paris, but she hadn't been thinking with the mind of an architect then. Now she studied as they walked along. The juxtaposition of the store's Art Nouveau-styled exterior with its white, modern interior was really stunning. Almost a real world paradox in how unexpected it was.

Arthur wasn't one for browsing, and led her directly to the luggage department. The woman behind the sales counter was beautiful and a little forbidding in her pencil skirt and tailored blouse, but her face lit up at the sight of Arthur. "Ah, Monsieur Hamilton!"

Arthur smiled and greeted her; while Ariadne tried her best not to appear as if she was comparing her own bright mix of apparel to the woman's sleek business attire, so similar to Arthur's own. She continued her perusal of the store. Arthur still held her hand in his, and squeezed it slightly to get her attention.

"Hmm?"

"She's gone to get our order." Ariadne resisted the urge to exclaim WHAT ORDER? and said nothing. "This isn't set in stone. If you don't like anything, you aren't stuck with it."

A light came on in Ariadne's mind. Arthur was a sweet and thoughtful guy, but he wasn't usually the type to shower her with gifts. "Wait—we're picking something up for me? My birthday's in September."

"It's not a birthday present. And they're for both of us."

"They—" Ariadne was cut off by the sound of rumbling coming from behind the sales counter. "What in the world?"

The stylish sales associate clicked her way back towards them on impossibly high heels, but Ariadne was beyond caring about her. Her eyes were on the large cart the woman was pushing. It was stacked high with beautiful, old-fashioned styled suitcases, five red with tan leather straps, and three in a deep, shimmery mahogany with similarly colored straps.

"That's…a lot of luggage, Arthur."

"Mademoiselle does not like?" The sales girl inquired in English. Ariadne shot the girl a sharp look, and saw Arthur giving her a similar one. The sight encouraged her.

"I didn't say that." She turned to Arthur. "Don't we have luggage?"

"We do, but it's not holding up too well. And we both need a few more cases than we have for this next trip."

"Ah yes, the mysterious month." She grinned at him. "I need five red suitcases?"

He blushed a little, and shrugged. "Take a look at them and see which you like."

Ariadne removed the red cases from the cart one by one. They ranged in size from a small, hinged vanity to a deep case that stood even with her hips, with three in intervening sizes. Two of the medium cases were nearly identical in size, but Ariadne noticed that one had a handle and wheels for rolling, and the other did not. After conferring with Arthur on the needs of the mystery trip (which he would only describe in the most general terms) and considering the damage her poor old suitcase had taken on the flight back from Buenos Aires, she chose four of the five cases: the vanity, a large rolling case, a medium case without wheels, and a smaller rolling case designed to fit in airplane cabins.

Arthur had a similar selection of luggage, with a large, deep rolling case, a medium case without wheels, and a slim attaché case designed to be worn as a messenger bag. Ariadne thought they suited him well.

She considered the luggage as it waited to be purchased. He clearly knew what to look for in choosing a style for her. The whole collection exuded an old worldliness and class that appealed to Arthur, but the smaller elements were all for her. She loved the red, the sturdiness of the pieces, the leather straps and gleaming gold locks. The collection Arthur had chosen for himself was labeled "The Orient," which made perfect sense.

Arthur finished paying, and asked the associate to please call a cab. He walked over and stood next to Ariadne. "What are you doing?"

"Admiring our little suitcase family." Arthur laughed. "I do like them, you know. It's a lovely surprise, even if it isn't my birthday. Do I even want to know how much all this put you back?"

He said nothing, merely leaned in and pressed his lips briefly to the crown of her head. She took that to mean "no." Ah, well. It's not like he couldn't afford it.

There was a soft throat clearing to their left. The sales associate was smiling—and not just at Arthur. Ariadne smiled back. After all, she couldn't fault someone for finding him attractive. "Monsieur et mademoiselle, votre taxi est ici."

"Ah. Merci. Could we make use of the cart again?" Arthur inquired.

"Oui, bien sûr."

They made their way back down to the store's entrance, assured that their luggage would meet them there. "Sure there aren't any other super secret things we need to stop for? A pair of roller skates, perhaps? Or a pony?" Ariadne teased.

"I don't think they sell ponies here. Would you like one?"

"Yes," Ariadne answered, determined to be contrary even if he had just spent thousands of dollars on ridiculously nice luggage for them both.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Eh." She grinned at him. "We'd have to pony-proof the flat, and I hear that's hell. Plus, Crash would get jealous."

"Another time, then."

They approached where their empty luggage was being loaded into the cab. The vehicle wasn't very large, and they ended up having to sit surrounded by much of it in the back seat. Ariadne was forced so far over by the suitcases that she was practically in Arthur's lap.

"You really didn't think this through, did you?" She laughed at him.

He smiled back. "No, I guess I didn't."

She leaned up to kiss him. They weren't usually big on public displays of affection, but they were squeezed in the back of a cab surrounded by empty suitcases he had inexplicably bought for them, and she just couldn't help herself. "I missed you," she murmured against his lips.

He smoothed her hair behind one ear and spoke so quietly she almost didn't hear him. "I missed you, too."

She kissed him again. "Thank you for my random red luggage."

"You're welcome."

The taxi driver took a turn at a faster clip than he probably should have, and the stack of suitcases fell into Ariadne, forcing her farther into Arthur's arms. Neither appeared to notice. The driver grinned into the rearview mirror, and took them the rest of the way home.

a/n: Whoa. This is the 10th chapter in this story. That is mind-boggling. I spent more time researching this chapter than I did writing it. Metro maps, cruise schedules, luggage options. I now know everything there is to know about fine luggage. Everything. And every website I visit shows me a Holland America pop-up ad.

So we didn't quite get to the boat, but I was having too much fun with the luggage. Unlike Ariadne, I totally design my stories from real life. The luggage Arthur bought is made by Globe-Trotter, and it is ridiculously nice, expensive, British stuff. I spent AGES looking for the right stuff for our heroes, and I think GT is it. I can't see Arthur carrying around a monogrammed Louis Vuitton case (or even Ariadne, for that matter), can you? Yeah. Anyway, Ariadne's pieces are all part of the Centenary Collection, and Arthur's are from the Orient.

I really wish I had Arthur's imaginary money so that I could buy ALL OF IT. I think I'm going to eat some cookie dough and push through writing the next chapter, so it might be up as early as tomorrow. Until then!