HI YOU GUYS! I finally got around to finishing this chapter. It took way longer than I thought it would mainly because school started...yea...crap... And I am honestly not that happy with this chapter. I was hoping for it to be one of those light-hearted warm cheesy love story but it came out to be mediocre at best..sorry about that! I finished this at three in the morning and..I honestly didn't proof read it as much as I would normally. I might do a re-write on it some time.

Also, thank you so much to all the readers that suggested cheesy pick-up lines for me! You guys are great! I didn't use all of them because of my limited imagination but I really enjoyed reading them.

ENJOY!

Arthur was rarely nervous…not this much anyway. Sure, he got a bit anxious on his first extraction lesson he had when he was fresh out of college, but he had known that everything was under control…and as always, he had been right. He wasn't too comfortable with dentists (the idea of a near-stranger poking about his mouth with tools that could probably drill right through his head was not exactly a settling one), but his teeth had been, were, and probably always will be perfectly straight and white so he never had to actually worry about going to the dentist's. Even when he was a hormone-induced adolescent, he had not been particularly nervous around girls (and he had been around plenty.)

Now far from being a teen, Arthur felt an unfamiliar sensation of panic creeping upon him. He felt a queasy feeling of fluttering in his stomach that made him want to heave. He loosened his perfectly straightened tie once again but the uneasy choking feeling was still there.

'Just think of it as a business trip…except this time with Ariadne. It's not that big of a deal..' he reminded himself. He cleared his throat loudly and noticed that he was tugging on his tie again. He swatted his hands away, clearly irritated by the growing habit.

Arthur was straightening his tie again when the door he had been pacing in front of for the last good fifteen minutes swung open and knocked him to the ground.

"Arthur! I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were there," Ariadne jumped when saw him. She offered her hand to help him up.

He was about to reach out and take her hand when he remembered the first tip on the list of many others Eames had so kindly left for him.

Don't let her help you with ANYTHING. You're on top. You're dominant. Don't walk behind her and let her lead you (WHICH I KNOW IS EXACTLY THE TYPE OF THING YOU WOULD DO). Show her who's alpha.

Arthur was unsure of the instruction for a second. It didn't sound like a good plan but he decided to trust Eames for once. Eames had been so awfully confident with calling himself a ladies' man.

He gulped and ignored her extended hand. He dusted his pants and nonchalantly got up off the floor like it was no big deal. If he was embarrassed about falling in front of her, he hid it well behind his composed façade. "Hello Ariadne," he greeted her coolly as if nothing had happened.

"Uh.. Hi Arthur," she retrieved her hand awkwardly, obviously confused with his actions. "Did you come here to pick me up?"

"Yea I did actually," he fidgeted, regretting what he did.

"Well…you're a bit earlier than I expected. I was just about to take a shower so you can wait in my apartment if you want," she said while she picked up the newspaper that was on her doorstep.

She led him into a small but cozy apartment. This wasn't the first time he had been in there but he did not feel any less nervous as he did the first time.

"You can sit here. Help your self with the waffle and orange juice," she pointed to the plate of waffles on her table. "I made extra just in case."

Arthur debated whether eating the breakfast counted as her helping him but his empty and nervous stomach obviously did not care for whatever Eames had to say. He thanked her and when she saw that he grabbed a plate of waffle, she smiled and went into the bathroom.

When he made sure she was in the shower, Arthur pulled out the instruction sheet. He read it over again, scoffing at how ridiculous some of the tips actually were. Although he thought some of the instructions were ridiculous, he had actually memorized all of the pick-up lines and tips before. Not that Ariadne was going to know any of this. Arthur would much rather die than let Ariadne know that he had been practicing the pick-up lines in front of the mirror.

"Relax Arthur…Breathe," he tried to calm himself down.

"Relax for what?" Ariadne said suddenly behind him, causing him to jump frantically and knock his elbow against the table and fall on to the floor again.

"Crap," he cussed, shaking the hot electric feeling that shot up from his elbow.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you! Are you okay?" she gently grabbed the arm that he fell on to examine it. "Must've hurt," she grimaced when she saw blueish bruise starting to show on his elbow. She ran her finger softly over it, causing Arthur to blush madly.

"What's that paper?" she asked suddenly, noticing the paper crumpled in Arthur's hand. He quickly shoved the paper in his pocket and grinned all too-brightly. "N-nothing.." he shuttered. SHIT he swore in his head. Ariadne narrowed her eyes, trying to read Arthur's expressions.

Crap…think of an excuse Arthur. Quick! Distract her! Arthur's conscience screamed at him.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked, returning to tending his wounds. But her eyes were still fixed on the pocket where the paper was.

Afraid she'll return to the topic of the cheat sheet, Arthur searched his brain for a way to distract her completely. "Uh…" he dragged on.

SAY SOMETHING! ANYTHING!

"Ummm…"

SAY! SOMETHING! NOW!

"This pain is nothing compared to the pain you must have felt when you fell from heaven because you are obviously an angel fallen from the sky," he blurted out one of the pick-up lines Eames had given him. Arthur could just hear Eames laughing maniacally in his head as he said it.

There was silence.

It looked like Ariadne wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She just froze in place and was trying to comprehend what had just happened. Arthur froze as well, trying desperately to anticipate her reaction.

"Haha..aha..good one Arthur…um..I'm gonna go get my stuff" she choked out at last and shuffled out of the kitchen.

Arthur rubbed his sore elbow and groaned.

"…well..that went well," Arthur sighed sarcastically, straightening the crumpled paper and shoving it back into his pocket.

When Ariadne saw the red sports car parked in the parking spot, her jaw dropped in disbelief. "You can't be serious, Arthur," she snorted but coughed back her laugh when she saw that, in fact, he was being completely serious. Ariadne raised her eyebrow skeptically but got into the car anyways.

Ignoring the blatant ooze of ego and the obnoxiously loud sound of the roaring engine of the car, Arthur tried to keep the conversation pleasant. And it was…until he tried to incorporate one of Eames' pick-up lines or listen to his advices.

The conversations seemed to be on a constant cycle.

Arthur: "The day seems to be getting hotter and hotter."

Ariadne: "I know, the sun's so bright today."

Arthur: "The sun's brightness is nothing compared to your beauty."

Silence and awkward laughs.

Arthur: "How's school?"

Ariadne: "It's exhausting. It's crazy how much work they give you. It's as if they want you to suffer."

Arthur: "Well aside from the school work, you must be tired running through my mind all day long."

More silence and awkward laughs.

Normal conversation. Pick-up line. Silence. Repeat.

The silence seemed to grow longer and longer every time Arthur attempted to flirt with her.

"You sound like Eames today…" Ariadne finally said after Arthur's fifth attempt and failure.

This time, Arthur was the one laughing awkwardly and abruptly changing the topic.

Eventually, they started talking about dream-sharing which seemed to be one of Ariadne's favorite topics to talk about.

"How did you become involved in extraction in the first place anyways?" she asked curiously.

"I was planning to become a detective actually, so I joined a police academy after I graduated from high school. They had a dream-sharing military program for some selected trainees and I was chosen," he shrugged. "And… after that, I changed my mind and decided to work in the sub-conscience field. Since I had profiling and researching background from the academy, I was hired as a point man. I met Dom and we were partners since then."

"What attracted you to this field? It is obviously not the 'pure creation' I couldn't stay away from."

"I like the lack of falseness in people's sub-conscience. It's true people can distort memories and dreams but in dreams, most of what you can experience is pure instincts and impulses. It's the truth," he said slowly. He remembered the first time he was the 'subject' of a dream, the utter exposition and vulnerability but also the clarity had been amazing. Arthur felt the gaze of his face and realized the conversation had stopped a while ago. His stomach dropped with the realization that he was spacing out all by himself and probably bored her half to death.

He quickly plastered a cheesy grin across his face. "Although in less euphemistic terms, I'm a sub-conscious thief. I think you are the real thief though…going around stealing my heart," he drawled the memorized line.

'I'm not awkward with saying these lines anymore! That's pretty impressive,' he thought to himself.

…Except she didn't look impressed at all.

"What are you talking about? Don't say that you are a thief so lightly. You know Cobb didn't have a choice, and by saying those things, you are insulting him. It's true you guys haven't exactly been doing legal jobs but don't make a joke about it," she snapped.

Arthur almost grunted in frustration. Things were obviously not working out to well. He was trying to impress her and had pissed her off instead. He was about to apologize to her when he remembered what he had read off of that bloody paper, which he had fondly chose to call now.

Pretend like you don't care about her that much. If you are too nice to girls, they will think you are the boring goody-two shoes type (WHICH YOU ARE ARTHUR), which is totally unsexy. Being nice and caring will NOT get you laid. Be a TEASE.

After the failure of all the attempts so far at being a "sex-bomb" like Eames, the last thing Arthur wanted to do was to try again. But the persistent voice of the forger clouded his mind, urging him to stop being a stick in the mud. Arthur realized this had grown into some kind of a competition of male ego. If he gave up now, Arthur would be forever stamped as a coward and a "goody-two shoes" as Eames had called him. Arthur wasn't going to let Eames beat him. With his extraordinary self-control, Arthur fixed his eyes again on the road and let the cold silence hang in the air.

By noon, they arrived at the outskirts of the small town. Arthur had planned to drive slowly, enjoying the pleasant scenery of the French countryside but the awkward silence that permeated the air made him uncomfortable and panicky. He drove much faster than planned with his gaze fixed at the road ahead.

Ariadne seemed to be refusing to look at him. She fidgeted with the seat belt and fiddled with her totem. At last, when Arthur seemed to have totally retreated into silence with no plan on resurfacing any time soon, she took out a book and glared at its pages.

When the vineyards and orchard transformed into occasional shops, Ariadne finally snapped the book shut, clearly irritated by the absence of communication.

"Stop at this shop," she said tiredly. "I need some air."

Arthur was relieved to hear her finally talk but stuck firmly to Eames' tip and merely shrugged. He pulled over at a gas station next to an automobile renting shop. As soon as he parked the car, Ariadne jumped out and stomped to the small drugstore in the gas station. Arthur sighed and pulled out the paper. He knew it word for word now but it's crinkled edges made him feel better.

"What do I do now Eames. You haven't prepared me for any of this," he groaned, glaring at the paper.

"What about Eames?" Ariadne stood behind him, squinting at the paper. Arthur jumped and tried to stuff it back into his pocket but she was faster. The paper was snatched out of his hand faster than he could react and she was reading it when he realized it was gone.

"Did it hurt when you fell from the sky…because with your beauty, you are clearly an angel fallen from heaven..?" she read aloud. "What is this Arthur?"

Arthur felt his head buzz in panic as he tried to come up with excuses. He saw her eyes narrow and the sudden realization dawn on her. She gasped. "Eames wrote this for you!" she waved the worn paper. "Eames lent you his car!" she pointed at the red sports car. "What else did he do?" she was almost shouting now, "did he recommend you to take me on a trip?"

Arthur could not find his words.

"You are unbelievable," she said incredulously. She shoved the paper to his chest and looked at him pointedly.

"Ariadne, wait," he stopped her when she started to stomp away. "I asked Eames for help because I didn't know what to do. I mean…he's the self-appointed ladies man and I'm the stick-in-the-mud"–she looked at him questioningly but let him continue –"so I asked him to help me…although…it didn't exactly go as planned."

"So you drove me in this ridiculous car and acted like a male-chauvinistic jerk just to impress me?" she choked. "How did you, even for one second, think that that was going to work?"

Arthur shrugged.

"I didn't even blink when Eames said all those shameless pick-up lines to me. You don't have to pretend to be someone else to impress me. I chose you for Arthur and not some "ladies man,"" she quoted him. Her expressions softened.

"So I don't have to pretend to be Eames," he asked carefully.

"Nope."

"Oh thank god," he breathed. "I thought I was going to choke under all the silence and awkwardness." He slowly ripped the paper into thin shreds. "Forgive me?" he asked softly.

She eyed what remained of the paper. And then the car.

"Yes…but if and only if you stop following all the ridiculous rules and..the car has to go," Ariadne decided.

"But..how will we get there without a car?" Arthur said skeptically.

Ariadne grinned wickedly and pulled him towards the scooters that were lined up neatly in the rental store.

"I know the perfect way."

In exchange for leaving Eames' car as a "hostage," the garage owner was more than happy to let them rent two scooters and helmets. Soon, they were racing down the bumpy road on scooters.

"Eames is going to kill me!" Arthur shouted across the wind. There was no worry in Arthur's voice. Just liberation as he enjoyed the breeze greeting his face.

"He's lucky if I don't kill him for almost ruining our trip!" Ariadne yelled back, gulping in the cool, clear air. The stuffy distance that had developed on the car had dissolved completely and they could help but enjoy the wonderful weather as they raced to the city.

The rest of the day was just as pleasant. They visited several galleries and got into heated debates over their favorite contemporary artists. They enjoyed lunch at a small deli in the backstreet. Under the shade, they poured over maps and shared ice creams. They went to an art auction and bought a brilliant painting. They met strangers and parted with them as friends. At different restaurants, they tried the local delicacies. They went to a friendly bar and drank local wine. With some alcohol pumping in their blood, Arthur and Ariadne danced and sang with others.

After several dances, they both collapsed onto the chairs, shaking with laughter. Even without the innuendos and tricks, Ariadne was already so captivated by Arthur. They were so comfortable with each other in their own skin, laughing and talking to one another. Arthur pressed his forehead to hers and smiled.

"Let's go," he murmured.

The hotel gleamed from the outside with the glittering decorum outside. Everything about it screamed rich and Arthur felt the unwelcome sense of unease creep on him. He forced it down and led Ariadne inside.

"Reservation under Mr. Smith please," he told his usual alias to the receptionist.

"There is no reservation under that name sir," the receptionist answered politely.

Arthur frowned in confusion. Eames should have reserved it under that name. He knew that Arthur always did so.

"What about under Eames?" he asked again.

The receptionist typed a few words and shook her head no.

"Arthur?" Ariadne called carefully. "What's wrong?"

"Uh..It seems like Eames forgot to book the hotel," he said cautiously.

"Eames again?" she grunted.

He shrugged innocently. Then he remembered something.

As it turns out, Eames had completely forgotten about booking them a hotel. However, fortunately, he had also forgotten to cancel Arthur's apartment rental. Arthur led her to the small apartment that seemed humble compared to the fancy hotel.

The apartment was old and some parts were crumbling. But the crawling ivy that covered the wall seemed to complement the building. It was warm and inviting inside: the soft ivory bed covers matched the dark forest green walls and the mahogany furniture.

Arthur and Ariadne sat out in the patio, looking out at the splendid view of the small but beautiful town. Ariadne brought out the wine she had bought earlier that day and poured two mugs.

"I know this isn't much compared to the hotel," Arthur said after sipping the wine.

"I like this place much better than that snobby five-star hotel," Ariadne announced contently as she leaned against Arthur's shoulder.

"And why is that?"

"Because that place has only five stars. But this place has five gazillion stars," she said smugly, pointing at the myriad stars that adorned the sky.

Instead of looking at the stars, Arthur traced Ariadne's features with his eyes. Her deep brown eyes contained all the lights in the sky, reflecting their beauty on her chocolate iris. Her face was slightly flushed in excitement. He had a sudden urge to lean in and kiss her.

Arthur laughed quietly and copied Ariadne's smug expressions. "I didn't notice them because the brightest star was sitting right next to me and I was too busy looking at her," he said in his exaggerated dramatic voice. Ariadne raised her eyebrow and pretended to gag. Arthur pretended to be hurt.

"See? You're perfectly capable of coming up with cheesy pick-up lines without Eames' help," she laughed. "Eames will be so proud of you. He must be a good teacher."

"I just happen to be a good student," he shrugged. "With the perfect partner."

He leaned in and his face inched towards hers slowly. Preparing herself for the kiss, Ariadne closed her eyes in anticipation. Seconds, minutes perhaps, ticked by and she opened her eyes when nothing happened. Arthur's face was millimeters away from hers and he smiled smugly, watching Ariadne's eager expressions.

"You are such a tease," Ariadne glared at Arthur playfully.

"Apparently it works for some girls," he said innocently, leaning away.

"Apparently so." And with that, Ariadne pulled Arthur by his collars towards her and kissed him, catching Arthur by surprise. Arthur fell on top of Ariadne but she didn't let go and closed her eyes. Their kiss started out softly and carefully as if they were trying to size up each other, ready to pounce at the first sign of breach in defense, but soon turned into a hot, fervent fight for domination. Arthur jumped when she bit him and let go of his collars, pushing him away gently.

Ariadne laughed at his reaction and leaned in again. "But unlike some girls, I am willing to make the first move," she whispered and scooted away from speechless Arthur.

"Tease," he chuckled as he ran his finger over his bottom lip where she bit him.

"Toast to cheesy pick-up lines," she raised her mug in the night sky.

"Toast to teasers," Arthur copied her and touched her mug with his own.

The countdown started as they emptied their mugs.

"10. 9. 8…"

"New Years on the apartment rooftop, drinking wine out of mugs…" he chuckled, imagining how weird they would look to other people, especially Eames.

"…7. 6. 5…"

"I think it's pretty much perfect," Ariadne murmured as she slowly traced Arthur's long fingers.

"You know what will make it completely and undeniably perfect?" Arthur whispered, leaning in.

"…4. 3. 2…1!"

This time, there was no interruption other than the loud roar of cheer downstairs. They pulled each other into a soft embrace and reveled in each other's warmth. Their lips danced with each other, lost in the gentle but burning need for contact. They reluctantly pulled apart when fireworks bloomed magnificently above their heads announcing the start of the New Year.

"Perfect," they both said at the same time, their fingers still tangled in a tight embrace.

And it was.

Please review! I'm not exaggerating when I say that I LIVE on reviews. I check my inbox 100000000 times everyday to see if anybody reviewed. I know that's sad..hahaha

but it makes me happy :)