Arthur/Ariadne one-shot number two! Yay! Alright, I don't know how I feel about this one, so I need people to review! Please! Oh, and enjoy :)
"So, Ariadne, we've both discussed our love lives in all their gory detail. Time to hear your story."
Ariadne shifted in her seat uncomfortably, focusing, not on her eager friends, but on the intricate design of the coaster where her glass of iced tea sat. She twirled the straw through the liquid, watching the ice clink against the side of the frosted glass.
"There's not much of a story, really," she muttered, cursing her quickly reddening cheeks for giving her away so easily.
"Sure, whatever you say," replied one of the girls sitting at the table, a slim brunette.
"Really, Angie, there's nothing to say," Ariadne insisted, looking anywhere but at the girls sitting across from her.
"Ariadne," insisted her blonde friend, Victoria. "There is definitely something to tell. There's a guy. Come on. What's his name?"
Ariadne didn't say anything for a while. She considered just making up a boyfriend, giving him a sexy foreign name like Roberto. She could make up a glamorous background story for how they met; on a beach in Spain, while the sun set, casting pinkish light on the fine, white sand as the waves crashed melodically on the shore line. She could describe him in all his fake, glorious detail, just to indulge her creative side.
But then, girls being girls, her friends would insist on meeting him. That would be a dilemma, since Roberto, even in all his fake, glorious detail, simply didn't exist.
Ariadne supposed she could ask Eames; she was sure the forger would delight in posing as her boyfriend. But then she would have to change his name to something more British, like William. Maybe edit her background story.
She could picture the meeting easily. Eames would saunter over, grinning crookedly at the shocked looks on her friend's faces. And then, to surprise them even further, he would take each of their hands and kiss them gently, a most gentlemanly way for him to be inappropriate, what with the leering gaze Ariadne would expect to be on his face. Then he would walk over to Ariadne, his suggestive grin making her roll her eyes. He would sit beside her, kissing her cheek, and, while leaning away, whisper discreetly, "Why did you never introduce me to your friends before, darling?"
Ariadne shook her head, laughing quietly. That was exactly why she could never introduce Eames to her friends, and exactly why she should just tell them the truth. It wasn't as though she and Arthur were even doing anything remotely like dating, anyway.
But when she looked back at her friends, ready to admit to them that maybe she did have a little crush, she found them both turned in their seats, watching something across the room studiously.
Or more like someone, Ariadne realized, when she followed their line of vision and her eyes came to rest on the last person she would have ever expected to see there, in that corner coffee shop, ordering a latte.
She gaped at him, taking in his slicked back hair and three piece suit, jacket thrown over his shoulder, the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt rolled meticulously up to his elbows and his tie loosened just a little. He looked so obviously out of place, even in this more relaxed state of dress, that Ariadne just had to smile.
A smile that, of course, had nothing to do with his presence, nothing to do with the fact that she was seeing him for the first time in six months, the first time since they had successfully completed Inception.
Still, Ariadne couldn't deny the shiver that ran down her spine all the way to her toes as she watched him coolly hand the cashier his credit card, ignoring the look she was giving him. She was trying so hard to get his attention that Ariadne had to laugh, despite the little bubble of anger growing inside her at the cashier's continued attempts to flirt.
When Arthur took back his card without a second glance at the girl, Ariadne relaxed, until he turned in the direction of their table and Angie and Victoria let out low whistles.
"Would you look at that guy?" Angie hissed. "Damn, he's sexy."
"Ariadne, do you see him?" Victoria asked, not even looking to see if Ariadne had heard her. "I've never seen a guy so perfect."
The bubble of anger was back.
Ariadne shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Oh, him? He and I go way back. I worked with him for a bit." She paused for dramatic effect and her friends swivelled their gaze towards her. Two girls down, the rest of the coffee shop to go.
"Wait," Ariadne said, looking appropriately shocked. "Did I never tell you about him?"
Angie and Victoria shook their heads vigorously. "We would have remembered something like that," Angie stated loudly. She and Victoria both turned in their seats once again to look at Arthur.
Ariadne growled quietly at the fact that her friends were once again staring and, without saying another word, she got up and quickly walked over to Arthur, who was leaning against the granite counter, apparently oblivious to all of the female attention he was getting. However, when Ariadne stepped into his line of vision, he smiled, just a little, eliciting a sigh from the general population of the coffee shop, despite the glares that were being sent Ariadne's way.
"I wondered when you were going to come over," Arthur muttered once Ariadne was close enough.
"What are you doing here?" Ariadne hissed. The minute she heard his voice, his perfect, sexy voice, her anger at her friends was gone, to be replaced by anger at him. He had left her for six months, and now, suddenly, he was there, in front of her, looking like no time had passed.
"Getting coffee," Arthur said, holding up his mug, arching an eyebrow at her question. "What else would I be doing?"
"If you're checking up on me, you're a little late. It's been six months already." Ariadne couldn't hide the anger that was creeping into her voice.
"I'm here for coffee," Arthur repeated, taking a sip from his mug, looking maddeningly calm, despite her tone. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Six months since what?"
Ariadne was about to explode at him, tell him off for being so frustrating, then she remembered all of the eyes locked on the pair of them, or, more specifically him, and she realized why he was playing dumb. Of course he wouldn't want a bunch of gossiping women overhearing bits of conversation regarding dreams and Inception. Even if they didn't understand, it was still a liability.
So she scowled at him, muttered, "Follow me," and led him from the coffee shop, waving off her friends when they called to her, asking where she was going.
Once they were out on the street, in crowds of people that didn't give them so much as a second glance, Ariadne turned on him. Arthur watched her, an expression of mixed bemusement and concern on his face as she let out the pent up frustration she had been bottling inside for the past six months.
"It's been six months, Arthur! Six months! I haven't heard from anyone, not Cobb, not you, not Eames or Yusuf. It's like it never happened, and now you have the audacity to show up here and shatter all the walls I've tried to erect around the things that happened. Why would you do that? Why would you come back, just like that, and try to destroy my life just after I've put it back together? I could have used a little help after we finished the job, but no, no one said anything. You all just left me there to drown!"
"Are you finished?" Arthur asked calmly as Ariadne took a deep breath.
"Yeah, I guess," Ariadne muttered, looking anywhere but at his face. His shined, black dress shoes seemed the perfect choice. She ran her fingers through her hair. "Sorry about that, but it's true. You all just left without even so much as a goodbye, and I had to find my way back from...everything that happened all on my own. I was so lost."
Arthur sighed. "I realize that, but we weren't supposed to contact or talk for a little while after the mission."
"A little while? Six months is more than a little while!" Ariadne shook her head, frustration evident on her face. "And couldn't you have at least told me that I was going to have nightmares for months afterwards and then suddenly one night not dream at all? Couldn't someone have told me?"
"We did tell you that you would stop dreaming," Arthur pointed out quietly, taking a sip of his coffee.
Ariadne shook her head in disbelief. "Is that all you have to say? You're so full of yourself." She crossed her arms, looking away from him and, instead, watching the cars drive through the small, Parisian streets and the people weave between them, stopping at vendors to buy a bit of fresh, brightly colored fruit or a silk scarf imported from India.
She became so distracted watching the life of the city that she almost didn't hear Arthur's voice speak from behind her.
"I didn't come just to check up on you. I came to live here for a while."
This was the last thing that she had expected to come from his mouth when she had first seen him buying coffee in such an unexpected place. She had waited to hear everything from apologies to job offers, from quick, routine questions about her well being to nonchalant explanations as to why no one had spoken a word to her once they were awake and off the plane. This she had not anticipated.
"Excuse me?" She just had to ask again, unsure of whether or not she had heard him correctly the first time.
"I'm moving here," Arthur repeated. "I've bought an apartment a few streets away from yours; not that that means you have to see me, if you don't want to. I just thought that I might as well live near someone I know-"
"Why are you moving here?" Ariadne enquired, cutting him off. "Don't you have work or something?"
"I haven't talked to Cobb for three months. I haven't done a real job in four. I figured I should make the most of the time I have off and live in one of the most culturally rich cities in Europe."
Ariadne rolled her eyes. "Really? That's your reason for coming here?"
Arthur raised an eyebrow, confusion on his face. "Do you not want me to live here? Is that why you're being so hostile?"
"I hate it when you answer my questions with questions," Ariadne groaned, running her fingers through her hair. "Do you understand anything that doesn't have to do with dreams and paradoxes? Do you know anything about people?"
"Of course," Arthur replied, looking put out. "People are my job."
"Yeah, studying people, learning every little fact there is to know about them. What about interacting with them? If you knew anything about that, you would know that I'm completely in love with you, and that it hurt like hell when you just left the airport without so much as a second glance at me." Ariadne's eyes widened when she realized what she had just said, and she turned away from him, walking back to the door of the coffee shop, her cheeks burning.
Arthur, as stunned as he was at her confession, acted out quickly enough to grab her arm before she pulled open the door. She refused to look at him, even as he turned her around to face him and placed a finger under her chin, gently lifting her face to look at him.
"You didn't let me finish," he said quietly. "I mostly moved here to be with you."
Ariadne lifted her eyes from where they had been focused on his navy blue tie and searched his face, unsure of whether or not he was telling the truth, but she couldn't find anything to suggest otherwise.
"You came here to be with me?" A hundred thoughts ran through Ariadne's head, but the only one she was quick enough to grab onto was how much she wanted that to be true.
"More or less," Arthur replied, a slight smirk appearing on his face and disappearing just as fast. "Of course, if you don't want to see me, I understand. I left you for so long..."
Ariadne didn't let him finish. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, the first time since that brief, chaste kiss in the hotel lobby of Arthur's dream. The moment they touched, Ariadne was sure that time had slowed down. She almost reached into her pocket for her bronze bishop, ready to feel the reassuring coolness of the metal on her skin, but she resisted, and instead focused all her attention on the man she was kissing. There would be time enough later to see whether or not she was dreaming. And, for the record, she was pretty sure she wasn't.
Arthur was slow to react, but eventually he got over his shock and wrapped his free arm gently around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He closed his eyes, unable to imagine anything more perfect than kissing Ariadne on the corner of the street in Paris and pretending like they were the only two people in the world.
Her fingers were in his hair, slowly destroying the work he had done that morning in front of the mirror, but he didn't mind. For once, it didn't matter.
And when they broke apart, both having a little trouble breathing, Ariadne smiled, smoothed down Arthur's hair and then intertwined her fingers with his.
"Come on. I want you to meet my friends."
Arthur paled a little. "Are you sure...?"
Ariadne cocked her head, a confused smile on her face. "Why not?"
"Well, it's just..." Arthur's hand flew to the back of his neck. "They were...staring at me. I felt like...food, or something."
Ariadne burst out laughing, marvelling at this adorable, awkward Arthur she had happened upon. "Yeah, they think you're pretty sexy. That's why we have to go back in there and make sure they know I have first dibs."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
Ariadne nodded. "Of course. Now come on." She pulled him back into the coffee shop, the little, silver bell over the door tinkling lightly as they entered.
Ariadne led Arthur to the table she had previously vacated where her two smiling, if not slightly jealous friends sat waiting.
"Hey guys," Ariadne said, pulling Arthur up to stand beside her. She squeezed his hand gently. "This is Arthur."