Author's Note: Long hiatus! Took three years out to go to university, where life was pretty distracting. I recently graduated and am catching up on everything that was forgotten, such as this fanfic. I won't make any grandiose promises about finishing it (I do now have to get a job...) but for the moment am enjoying a little foray back into writing. Enjoy!

Ariadne and Eames collected coffees from the counter and selected a table in the middle of the cafeteria. It was conveniently located for surveillance without being too conspicuous, and their guard had remained posted at the entrance, just far enough away to be out of earshot.

They sat in silence for a few minutes; Eames watched the businessmen over the rim of his mug, his eyes tracing the patterns in their movements. Ariadne stared at her coffee. At length Eames prised his attention back to the sombre woman in front of him, his chin resting on his hand.

"Hey." She looked up at him. "It is alright. You know that."

She sighed in quiet frustration. "Yeah I do. But…" She didn't bother to search for the words, knowing none were adequate but that Eames understood anyway.

Ariadne stirred her coffee pointlessly. "I probably overreacted but I think I'm justified in taking this seriously. Plus Arthur knows I like him really."

Eames looked at her in contemplation. "Huh. Well I had wondered."

Ariadne looked up at him quickly. "Oh, no I didn't mean… I mean he's nice but…"

"Hey, you don't need to justify yourself to me, jesus," Eames raised his hands in amused mock-defence.

Ariadne chuckled at her own embarrassment. "Well we did kiss once. But NO." And she was staring at her coffee again.

Eames continued to watch her, finding far more interest in the subject before him than the businessmen and women he was there to study. "It's Cobb, isn't it".

Ariadne's eyes shot up then, as much at his matter-of-factness as the words themselves. She flustered a little but after a moment resigned; "Yeah."

"Yeah", he echoed. There was this self-conscious guilt in her face, like she'd been caught shoplifting. He could tell she understood the situation, but nonetheless began "You know that…"

"Yeah, I know," she cut him off. Cobb had been so consumed by the memory of Mal and his own guilt, founded on the powerful relationship he had had with her before she died; and Ariadne was aware of the futility of her affection.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed, kid. I could see there was something between you two, even if it couldn't go anywhere. Plus, it's Cobb. He's got something."

Ariadne emerged from her humiliation, her curiosity peaked; "Did you and he…?"

Eames laughed. "No, no. It wasn't like that. It was both of them, to be honest. Him and Mal together; there was something irresistible about them. The way they sparked off each other, it made you want to be a part of it. But at the same time not want to touch it. It was untouchable."

Eames emerged from his reminisce and could see the effect his recollections were having on Ariadne. Her features were taut in an artificial neutrality. He quickly added, "But that was a long time ago. Things were difficult towards the end. And since then… Well, it was all a long time ago really. I wasn't there. Arthur was. Besides, Cobb's not going to be stuck in the past forever. At some point he's going to need to move on, and he might want some help with that."

Ariadne smiled at her mug. She considered herself a realist and didn't have high hopes. Cobb was forging a new life as a father and, though she had no concern about age gaps, was aware they were at very different stages in life. But it was kind of Eames to indulge her. "Well that took my mind off Arthur," she chuckled wryly. "When did Arthur and Cobb start working together?"

"Oh, Arthur's been in this wonderful business about as long as I have." Eames sipped his coffee nonchalantly, but Ariadne didn't miss the weight in his phrasing.

She eyed him inquisitively.

"Come on Ariadne. You never thought it was curious that Arthur's totem is a loaded die and mine is a poker chip? Coincidental? You're one of the most astute people I've ever met. Don't let me down now(!)"

The architect leaned forward unconsciously, her eyes wide, and lowered her voice secretively. "Are you telling me that you did your first job together? Did you get recruited together? How long have you known each other?"

Eames smirked, but felt suddenly awkward about the anecdote he had initiated. He did not quite know why he had invited this turn in the conversation; he wanted to assert the connection for some reason, boast of it, even. But now, Ariadne's expectant eyes before him, it seemed too much, like he was telling a stranger his bank details. It was private.

"Let's just say there's a reason Cobb tried to keep us apart if possible. Not the best track record."

"But were you on your first job together?" she persisted, eyes fixed on his and shining with intrigue.

Pointedly changing the conversation, he sarcastically replied "Congratulations, it only took my practically spelling it out for you to catch on. But that's another story for another time, my love. The man himself would clench in his expensively-tailored suit if he knew we'd been down here for half an hour and not yet done any actual work."

Ariadne leaned back in her chair, eyes lingering on Eames in suspicion. "All right," she conceded, "but don't think I'm forgetting about this. You owe me a story." He saluted in mock submission, before similarly reclining to return to his people-watching. His mind, however, refused to budge. Fairly certain that this job was about to take a turn for the complicated, Ariadne would be distracted enough to forget his little anecdote. Once the job was over she'd be whisked off to Paris before anything could jog her memory. He was safe.

Of course, there was nothing to stop him going over the events. His thoughts traced over the edge, cautiously conjuring those hazy first details as, with a final mouthful of coffee, he drifted into reminiscence.