Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to for the long hiatus. This is the final chapter.

"Kiss me." It was delivered as a dare.

Arthur exhaled, then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Before she could even try to pull away again, his lips were on hers. Softly at first, then pressing with urgency. As he felt her lips part beneath his, he began to gently probe her mouth.

He felt her press against him, her grip tightening. He forgot. Forgot his behaviour that had led to this moment. Forgot that she despised him. All that mattered was him proving to her that he cared. That he wasn't what she thought.

After what seemed an eternity, she began to gently disengage herself, the deep kiss turning into a lingering whisper.

He blinked. As she pulled away, she was turning her head. Away from him. Her arms were loosening, and disengaging. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Goodbye, Arthur."

Wordlessly he watched as she began to move towards the door. Swallowing, he tried to contain himself.

"Wait!"

She stopped. "Yes?"

"Ari, I...we..."

She shook her head. "There is no we, Arthur. I just wanted you to kiss me. Prove to me that you're not a machine, not only doing what Eames tells you." She looked at him, sadly. "But you..."

He swallowed. "Yes?"

"You ran out of chances."

He blinked. "Ariadne!"

"Arthur, listen to me." Her voice was forceful, but he could hear the rasp of tears. "You and Eames...you lied to me. Used me. And...neither of you are good enough for me."

Arthur felt as though he'd been gut punched. "Ari..."

"I'm flying back to Paris," she said, her voice faint. "I have classes next week. Good bye."

Standing as if frozen, Arthur watched her turn and leave, firmly shutting the door. Then, trying not to let the tears run down his face, he strode to the balcony, pulling a guilty packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. As he put one in his mouth and lit it, he inhaled. Thank God for nicotine.

Standing there, he watched as she hailed a cab, giving instruction. He exhaled, finally giving in to the deep feeling of regret exploding in his chest.

"Well, well." Arthur looked up. Eames was standing in front of him. "Did you apologise to her?"

Arthur scowled. He'd avoided the Forger successfully, but knew that he had to make pretence of civility. "I tried." He put his head down. Cobb had been coldly polite to both men since they'd returned. Arthur had no intention of exacerbating the situation. Eames nodded.

"Well, here's proof it didn't work." He tossed a tabloid onto Arthur's desk.

The Point Man picked it up, his face colouring. A picture of Ariadne...with Robert Fischer, Jr. Heart pounding, Arthur read the text accompanying the paparrazzi's shot. The two of them were leaving a restaurant.

Hand in hand.

"Robert Fischer, Jr, possibly one of the most eligible bachelors in the world, was snapped leaving the Guggenheim Museum in New York City last week with this young lady. Rumour has it they met at an gallery exhibition in Paris. Fischer Jr was reported to have said he remembered her, and felt brave enough to approach her. Mr Fischer is a notoriously private individual, but is it possible this could be the start of something very special?"

Arthur rubbed his face. "Fischer. Richest man in Australia...even without his father's Empire."

"Yep." Eames nodded. "Looks like we got our just desserts, eh Artie? Oh, and something else..."

Arthur looked up. "Yes, Eames?"

"I never slept with her." Eames blinked, his face colouring as Arthur's jaw dropped. "I know I said I did, but it was to-"

Suddenly, Arthur was on his feet, his hand going for the other man's throat. "You lying piece of-"

"Hey!" Cobb dropped a pile of papers, and hurried over. Getting in between the two men, he wrenched them apart. "What the hell is going on?!"

Arthur stepped back first. "Misunderstanding," he muttered. He walked away, ignoring Cobb's furious gaze and Eames' splutters. All he could think about was her.

"So, what do you think?"

Ariadne blinked, jolted. Robert was smiling at her from across the table. "Its lovely," she managed to get out. It was. The restaurant was expensive, tasteful, and elegant- rather like Fischer himself. She looked at him, and nodded. She was sitting with arguably the richest and most handsome young man in the world. The inception seemed as though it had happened in another lifetime. To someone else.

She blinked. She'd returned to Paris, determined to scour her memories of Arthur and Eames out of her life. She'd resumed her classes, not divulging to anyone why she'd disappeared for a few weeks. Then, she'd started socialising again.

She'd seen Fischer at an Art gallery. Slightly shocked, she'd tried to hide...until he approached her.

"Excuse me!"

She'd looked up. "Yes?"

Fischer had looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, its just you..." his voice, with its Sydney-via-LA accent, faltered slightly. "You look familiar..." his face creased. "Maybe you were on a flight with me."

She nodded, shocked. But she'd spotted the vulnerability, the nervousness. Then, he asked her if she wanted to join him for dinner.

She smiled at him across the table. Robert was attentive, loving, and gracious. Nothing was too much trouble, or too expensive. She bit her lip, wondering if she was seen as a gold digger. But she was just an Architectural student, carrying a secret about the man.

She couldn't stay with him because of the secret.

Arthur swallowed as he wandered the streets. He hated going home. If he went home, he'd close his eyes, and see it all again. The way he'd used her, abused his trust.

He was worse than Eames. He'd helped him. He could have stopped him.

She's with Fischer. A supremely rich young man, who could buy her anything and everything. He sighed.

Wanting revenge on an enemy he'd never had...he'd ended up despising himself. He shrugged.

Suddenly, he bumped into someone. "Oh God, I'm sorry! I-"

He paused. "Ariadne?"

"Hello, Arthur," she replied, politely. "How are you?"

"I'm-" he stopped. "I'm-" He stopped again. "I'm sorry."

She nodded. "I know you are. You told me before."

His shoulders slumped slightly. "Ari, you and Fischer, I hope-"

"We're not together," she interrupted. "I couldn't stay with him, not after what happened." She looked at the floor. "But he's-"

"A perfect gentleman," Arthur muttered. "I know." He turned away.

"Arthur!"

He stopped. "Yes?"

"We could...try at being friends," she said, quietly. "I've seen you at your worst, and I like to think...you're not going to do it again."

He blinked. Hope beginning to swell in his heart. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said, quietly. "We did share an experience together."

Arthur nodded. "I won't-" he swallowed. "Tell Eames."

"I don't care if you do," Ariadne said, forcefully. "But there is one thing you can do right now."

Arthur walked to her, their faces close together. "What is it?"

"Give me a kiss."

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