A/N: This is an Inception AU fic.

888888

Ariadne shouldn't have been surprised. Of course Dom wouldn't have shown up at the airport to pick her up, that she even expected him was a ridiculous idea to begin with. After all, he had always made it clear he didn't want to have anything to do with her, even if she was his daughter.

She stood in the middle of the airport, surveying her surroundings. All around her people were hugging their loved ones, ecstasy and joy evident in their faces, and here she was unsure her father would even bother to turn up. The lump in her throat was threatening to overtake her but she refused to give in. No, no, no. She would not cry. Not for Dom. He wasn't worth it.

"Ariadne?"

Her heart leapt up in her chest when she heard the unfamiliar voice speak her name from behind. Maybe she'd been wrong about him, maybe he had come for her. Excited, she whirled around.

And found herself face to face with a stranger.

He was older, probably in his early thirty's, hair slicked back and dressed casually in jeans, plaid shirt, and what looked to be an expensive brown leather jacket. And from the impatient expression on his face, it was obvious this was the last place he wanted to be.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked.

"Your ride," he replied in a no-nonsense tone of voice. He bent forward to pick up her luggage but she slapped his hand away.

"I don't know you," she said, and took a step closer which clearly made him uncomfortable. "And I'm not going anywhere with someone I don't know."

"Really? From everything I've heard, you seem especially fond of bringing strangers home."

"Ah, I see daddy dearest has been sharing news about my exploits. I hope I've made him proud."

"Immensely so," he muttered sarcastically. "Listen, I have things I need to do today. You can either come with me or stay here. Your choice."

"Okay, I'll stay. I'm sure someone will help me out. Like you said, I've always depended on the kindness of strangers."

And then he smirked. An actual, genuine smirk that brightened his dark eyes and made him appear ten years younger. "And look how far that got Blanche Dubois."

"You're not too bad looking when you smile."

He quirked his eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Guess you're not too used to them. A pity."

"You don't need to worry about me."

"Oh, I'm not." She flashed him her most flirtatious smile. "You're not my usual type, I prefer my men older, but I'll make an exception for you."

"Don't bother."

This time when he bent down to pick up her things, she didn't stop him.

"And you can stop with the flirting," he said. "I have no interest in little girls."

He headed for the door, without giving her so much of a goodbye glance, and she quickly caught up to him. "I still don't know your name."

"Arthur."

"Are you my father's personal assistant? Or something more? Is he playing for the other team now?"

Arthur chuckled, giving her a sideway glance. "We are partners, but not in the way you think. We work together."

"Doing what?"

"That's something you need to talk to Cobb about."

Turning into the parking lot, they headed towards a small convertible. No, not just any convertible. A Porsche Carrera. Arthur threw her suitcase in the back before opening his own door to slip inside.

"You look too young to be going through a mid-life crisis," Ariadne commented as she took the passenger seat.

"I'll take that insult to mean you like the car. Thank you."

She smiled, gripping the door when he expertly and swiftly pulled out of the parking spot and garage. "How long have you been working with Dom?"

"Five years."

"Are you guys close?"

"We don't braid each other's hair at night, but yes, I guess you can say we're close."

Don't ask him. Don't do it. But despite knowing better, she couldn't stop herself. "Does he ever talk about me?"

The sun was shining down at them, music blaring loudly from the car beside, and yet it felt like there was a heavy cloud weighing down on her when Arthur finally answered her question. "Not often."

She didn't say anything for the longest time, just stared out the open window.

"I think it's hard for him," Arthur continued.

"Whatever."

"He's not exactly the sharing type."

"Yet you know all about me bringing strangers home."

"To be fair, I heard that from Miles when he called. Your grandfather wasn't exactly pleased about that."

"He caught me fooling around with one of my professors, not a stranger."

"Well then, I stand corrected."

His cheeky grin surprised her. Even though she had just met Arthur he didn't seem to be a light-hearted sort of guy, and here he was teasing her. She took a few seconds to study him, observe him, and he promptly turned his attention back on the red light ahead. Despite his eyes hiding behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, she could still feel the heat smoldering in his gaze when he had looked at her.

In her experience, most men were pathetic and extremely malleable. With a bit of attention and flattery, they were putty in her hands, and all too easy to use and manipulate. The older ones were a bit more challenging because they held out for longer, letting their guilt get in the way of enjoying simple acts of pleasure, but eventually they all broke down. Just like Arthur would. It was only a matter of time.

"I think he's happy you're here for a visit."

"So happy he couldn't wait to show his face at the airport."

"Something came up. Cobb was supposed to be there."

"Yeah, but he sent you instead. Obviously he had other priorities."

"You're really planning to put him through the wringer, aren't you?"

"Don't worry, Arthur," she bit out, angry with her father – and herself – all over again. "I'll be gentle with your boyfriend."

Arthur said something in response, but she blocked it out – a technique she learned and had perfected over the years of being lectured to by her grandparents. As much as she disliked them at times, at least they never gave up on her, never left her behind, never forgot about her – unlike Dom. He completely erased her out of his life after handing her over to her maternal grandparents following her mother's death. It became very clear to her early on she was a burden – maybe even a mistake – to him. Despite knowing all that, she still flew to LA to see him, hoping against hope that maybe he would be interested in getting to know her. Now that she was an adult, finished with high school and about to enter a new phase in her life, maybe he would finally give her a chance. Obviously she was mistaken.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Cobb asked me to drop you at his place. He'll join you for dinner tonight."

"So nice of him to take time out of his busy schedule to see little old me."

"Make up your mind, Ariadne. Either you're pissed because he's not putting in enough effort or he's trying too hard. You can't have it both ways."

"Shut up."

The rest of the ride was silent, and she was grateful Arthur didn't try to force the conversation. She wasn't in the mood to play nice with him. Shortly after, he parked along the curb next to a grimy warehouse. "This is where he lives?" she asked, crinkling her nose as she inspected the exterior of the building.

"No, this is where he works."

"I thought you were dropping me off at his home?"

"I changed my mind." He got out of the car and shut the door. "Coming?"

Her heart started pounding in her chest, and her palms were suddenly slick with sweat. She didn't know what she felt more: nervousness or excitement. The last time she saw her father was seven years ago, when he came to her grandparents house in Paris for her thirteenth birthday. He had brought her a doll, probably not realizing she was too old to play with such things, and they had spent the whole afternoon together. She had told him all about her school, her friends, the boy she had declared her boyfriend and was determined to marry as soon as she grew old enough, and Dom had smiled throughout it all, occasionally laughing but mostly silent, watching her with the fatherly affection she had always craved. After that there had been occasional phone calls which grew more and more infrequent... and then it was just birthday and Christmas cards with cheques attached every year.

"It's okay to be nervous."

Arthur's voice brought her out of her reverie, and she gave him a grateful smile when he held the door open for her. Following behind him, she entered the building and instantly heard her father's voice drifting in from the other side. As she approached the sound, her anxiety increased exponentially.

Dom was standing in the center of the warehouse, his back turned to her, and speaking to a group of guys that were listening to him attentively.

"Cobb," Arthur called out.

Her father turned around and his gaze settled upon her face.

Would he be happy to see her, rush over and hug her? Or would he be angry, annoyed that she'd shown up here instead of waiting at his place? She really had no idea what kind of reaction to expect.

"Ariadne," he said her name.

His voice was exactly the same. Soft yet deep, stern, quietly controlled. He was dressed in a casual suit, his hands tucked into his pockets. Her grandparents had always told her she resembled her mother and although she assumed it was wishful thinking on their part, she could see they were right. She didn't really look anything like her father with the exception of two features: her hair was the same rich shade of brown as his, and their noses were shaped similarly.

He looked so much older and weathered than she remembered, not at all like the man from her memories who, although quiet, was always free with his smiles. She didn't think this man standing in front of her was capable of breaking into a smile, and definitely not laughter. She contemplated how to address him. 'Dad' sounded strange to her, entirely too intimate, so she stuck with the familiar. "Dom," she finally answered.

He walked towards her with slow, hesitant steps, and even though his expression remained stoic she could sense the tension in him. Especially when he darted a questioning glance over at Arthur.

"I asked him to bring me here first," Ariadne lied. "I wanted to see you."

That seemed to placate him and he granted her a polite smile. "How was your flight?"

"Okay."

"Are you hungry? Do you need anything?"

"No."

Awkward silence crept in, thick and palpable, hanging in the air between them. Strangers. That's how they were behaving with each other... because that's essentially what they were. She wanted to dissolve into tears right then and there but she didn't let herself. So what if he seemed less than enthused to see her? She shouldn't have been surprised, not really. In all honestly if she hadn't pushed her grandparents to send her here, she would probably never have laid eyes on Dom again.

"I'm in the middle of something right now. Maybe we can catch up later?"

"Sure," she said coldly. "Whatever."

"Arthur, why don't you drive her back to my place?"

"Why don't you? I can take over here."

Great. Now there were two men fighting to get the hell away from her. "You know what, I saw a bar not too far from here. Why don't I go over there and have a few drinks? I can hitch a ride back to your place tomorrow morning."

Dom stared at her, dumbfounded by her words, but Arthur didn't seem the least bit perturbed.

"First of all, you're under 21," Arthur reminded her.

"I'll get my hands on a fake ID soon. Until then, I'll charm my way in."

"And secondly, no," Arthur continued, ignoring her.

"Last time I checked, you're not my father."

"That may be but he is and I'm sure he agrees with me." Arthur looked to Dom for support. "Cobb?"

"I think you should take Ariadne home," was Dom's only response.

Maybe it was the fact he actually sounded like he cared, but Ariadne chose to shut up and not push his limits further. The last thing she wanted was for her father to tire of her and send her back to Paris already. "See you later, Dom," she said with a fake, cheerful smile, turned around, and walked out.

She was waiting by the car a few seconds before Arthur turned up.

"That didn't go as expected," he muttered, unlocking her door before striding over to the driver's side. She reluctantly slid into the passenger seat.

"Which was what? Tears and emotions?" As hard as she tried, she couldn't keep the edge out of her voice.

"It can't be easy to suddenly reconnect with a teenage daughter."

"I'm twenty, not a fucking teenager."

He smiled. "Give him some time. Be patient with him. I'm sure things will work out."

She mulled over Arthur's words, and even though she desperately wanted to believe him, she didn't.

"I know something you guys have in common already."

"What?"

"You both have a temper problem."

She rolled her eyes. "You haven't seen the worst of my anger yet."

"I've seen Cobb's and it's not pleasant."

"Does he actually show any emotion?" she muttered.

"Wait till you get to know him. You'll see exactly how volatile he can be."

"Do you think it'll really happen?"

Arthur gave her a soft smile. "Yes, as long as you don't give up on Cobb."

Maybe she was being delusional, but a part of her actually believed him. Her grandparents, although careful not to speak ill of her father in front of her, firmly believed it was impossible to have the kind of relationship with her father she craved. But here was Arthur, someone who actually thought it was possible. She just had to work hard at it and not give up.

Right then and there, Ariadne decided she was going to be the perfect daughter and not give her father any reason to turn away from her.

To be continued...