Again, I do not own Inception!

I've loved writing this fic. Its been too long since I stayed away. Hope you guys enjoy it!

This is for everyone who loves Eames! He's totally cute (:

Months fly by.

He completes the job with Eames, and Yusuf and a new architect that Eames had scrounged up from somewhere, a young boy barely her age and with half her creative potential. He doesn't realize that he's showing this in his interactions with the boy until Eames pulls him aside and hisses, "Arthur darling, I know you have extremely high standards that only you yourself can fulfil but at this rate, your condescension of the boy is going to drive him off our team and off a cliff!"

He feels the hot rush of embarrassment- had he really been all that mean to the boy- and shame- for comparing so relentlessly but Eames can pick this up. "I know you want her here." The forger lets him go and runs a hand through his sandy coloured hair. "For the record, so do Yusuf and I. But she isn't here. And we have a job to complete. So let's just see it through and you can go back and kiss and make up. Okay?"

Eames' last words cause twin pangs in his; of embarrassment, and hope. That yes, perhaps it isn't too late and that he can find a way to fix this mess. God, he misses her. He'd said that he didn't want her coming into his work life and messing it up, but even when she isn't physically around; he thinks of her so damn much, she shows up in his dreams (which always evokes twin sighs from Eames and Yusuf) and whenever he looks over at her desk, he feels a pain shoot through him- reminding him that he's wrong, and that he should have never asked her to leave his life.

Cause he can't leave her.

Finally after 3 long months, the job is done.

He packs up with more enthusiasm than he's had for the past few weeks (drawing raised eyebrows from Yusuf and Eames together) and with hurried goodbyes, he's gone, back to his apartment, where he somehow hopes in his heart of hearts that she's still there, she hadn't left and she's waiting for him. That mere thought just makes him risk his neck crossing busy streets without looking for traffic; makes his feet move faster, faster, faster until he's almost running and he bursts into his apartment in a way that no one would believe Arthur could.

It's empty.

He drops his bag at the doorway and walks in, quiet now, all the excitement gone out of him. It is his apartment again, all white smooth, minimalist lines and completely neat and tidy. Nothing looks out of place, yet there is that fine finish of dust on every surface to signify that no one had been living here for the past few weeks, months even- and it is with that realization that his heart sinks to hit the floor.

He has never hated tidiness like he does now.

He tries to recreate the way it was when she was around. Intentionally, he sweeps a vase onto its side, so the liquid and stalks fall onto the carpet, creating a huge damp spot. Haphazardly he takes out a few books and scatters them all over the table, the floor, the bed. And he stands back to admire his handiwork- and yet the fact cannot be disguised. She is gone. And without her clutter, he is truly alone again, and his mess is what it is- just a personal mess that does nothing to prove that there might be someone else sharing this life with him.

He looks at his watch. If he hurries he might be able to catch her before she leaves school. He doesn't know her timetable this semester, but he could try.

And with that, he's gone out of the apartment again.

He's determined that he won't talk to her; not now anyway, at least until he's had the chance to properly think out what he can say. He knows himself; he's tired, upset and prone to irrationality, so he'd rather run the risk of being a stalker and following her, than blathering some nonsense he'd regret later. So here he is; sane, upright, and gallant Arthur, following her like some creepy pervert. He sighs to himself, being careful to keep a distance from her on the street even as she takes another turn that doesn't lead to her apartment. His curiosity is piqued for sure and he wonders what in the world is she doing and where is she going.

He watches her turn into a café, the door tinkling shut behind her and for the sake of not looking conspicuous, he buys a newspaper and stands at the doorway rifling through it, not knowing that he's turned it upside down and his eyes watch as she takes a seat… opposite this boy.

What the….

He narrows his eyes hoping to glean more from the scene. That thing in there is smiling as she takes her seat opposite her and he tries to tamper down the hot surge of fury he feels when Ariadne, his Ari, smiles back, takes her seat and the both of them jump into an animated conversation. And him, being the lovesick fool he is, can't help but run his eyes over her frame. She looks good, same as usual- except maybe a little bit skinnier- at that he frowns. But he's not here to watch her; he's here to watch this boy.

What could she see in him? He wonders to himself, not hiding the fact anymore that he is openly staring at them from outside the café and drawing puzzled stares from a couple seated beside the window. Grudgingly, he admits that the boy is rather…adequate looking, with light coffee coloured hair and piercing green eyes. Yet, Ari wouldn't be as superficial as to go for looks.

He sighs then. He knows he should concede defeat to this unknown…punk who's apparently bested him, and he bites his lip to distract him from the sudden bleakness that he feels but it doesn't work. Wanting to leave and yet, unable to tear himself away, he watches like a man transfixed in his own horror.

And then, that boy reaches forward and touches her arm gently and he snaps.

He wishes he wasn't Arthur; the calm controlled one, but a man who could just stalk in there, slam his fist hard into that boy's face, break it and grab her and leave.

And suddenly, almost as if he's dreamt it, he's standing in the café, a smudge of blood on his right knuckle, her horrified face and protests beside that boy who's lying on the floor and a throbbing in his right hand that feels all too real to be a dream.

Horror dawns on him- God, he has just hit a kid- and the voices of the other patrons, her voice start to sink in, they grow louder in his ears and he backs out of the café, walking, running, just to be away from it all.

What is he thinking?

She's stunned as she tries to help her friend up, and as quickly as she can, she makes her excuses, still in a daze and she runs out of the café. This is the first time she's seen him in three months and she's never seen him like this before. She remembers as she runs; how her friend had touched her arm, gestured to him standing outside- looking straight at her and her friend with what could only be described as a look of fury and pain. How he stormed in, planted his fist firmly in her friend's face…and all of a sudden, click, his face melted back into his typical Arthur expression, only this time filled with horror and the sudden realization of what he'd done. She starts to sprint, trying to get a sense of where he might have gone when she spots a familiar looking coat- his coat. And she follows him now, even as he turns corner after corner- only to hit a dead end.

He turns away from her, hasn't seen her and she watches as he presses his face into the palm of his hand, in obvious distress. Distress has never been Arthur.

She clears her throat then and the sound startles him out of his misery as he turns around to see her. "Hi."

"Hello." He looks the same to her as he did three months ago, perhaps a little more tired. She doesn't like the look of those huge eye bags or the cuts on his chin where he cut himself shaving- Arthur doesn't slip up. She decides to be brave, takes a few more steps until she is closer to him and she reaches for his right hand, warm and big in her own small one. "Does it hurt?"

He shakes his head mutely, and she, still looking at his fist, pulls her floral scarf off her neck and wraps it around his knuckles gently. She can smell him, Old spice, peppermint and coffee and the smell finds her close to tears. God, she's missed him. Since that awful day when he told her to leave, she barely made it out of the apartment before she decided she couldn't go back to her apartment. It reminded her too much of being alone and… him not being around and so she'd lived in a hotel (ridiculous idea for a student) for a week before plucking up the courage to go back to her place and his place to pick up the rest of the stuff.

It had been a nightmare, trying to adjust to life without him. She could barely sleep every night, just going to classes and coming back to an empty apartment. She'd become obsessively neat, knowing that it was a part of him that she should try to let go off but couldn't bring herself to. And finally, just a week ago, things had almost felt normal. Like how they'd been before inception, before Dom, Eames, Yusuf, Fischer, Saito and him.

Yet she missed him.

She finishes tying a knot in her scarf and lets go of his fist, backing away a few more steps. There is still silence and she looks at her loafers. Brown, tie ups and they were on sale. "He was just a friend from a architecture project before."

He cannot stop the rush of relief, although suspicion lingers but hearing her say it out loud is enough for now. He looks at her then, head bowed, and he wishes that he had the power to turn back time; just as easily as inception comes to him. He wishes that there was never this mess to begin with, that she could still be his. And most of all, he wishes he had the bravery to tell her out loud for once that he loves her.

She keeps looking at her shoes. Damn it, there's a smudge on one side. She should really clean her shoes. She clears her throat one more time, "I should get back to see if Lawrence is okay."

Lawrence. He stiffens, and then chastens himself for this insane jealousy that's making him act like a 12 year old boy all over again. He is 27. He should act his age. "Yes." He coughs, looks away. "Give him my apologies."

She nods then curtly, and turns and starts to walk away without a goodbye or a hug, still looking at her shoes. Left, right, left right…

"Ari."

She stops then, and turns slowly, for the first time raising her eyes to look at him and her heart breaks.

He does not look like his composed self that she knows and loves so well. He looks forlorn, alone- a shade of the incredibly strong and silent man. She knows that it is because of her. And she wants nothing better than to lose herself in his arms all over again.

"I'm sorry." He swallows. He struggles to find the right words so he doesn't screw this up again. "I… I didn't want you to be like Mal." He pushes into her silence. "I saw her Ari. Just before she died. And she was like you. She was beautiful, smart, creative- and when I last saw her, she was so gone…" His voice breaks then and he bites his lip so hard, he can almost taste the blood. The old fear wells up in him, the fear that this could happen to anyone he loves, he cares about- to her. "I just… I just didn't want it to happen to you. I'm so…"

And before he knows it, she is running towards him and he is holding her in his arms and he can't tell if it's him or her who's shaking in his arms. He draws back and kisses her, no hesitation and lets himself sink into the familiarity of her. She tastes the same, of apricot lip gloss and her lips are so soft. He can feel her deepening the kiss and he kisses her almost hungrily, with a passion that is so rare for him. And finally, when oxygen is needed, they both break away but he refuses to let her go and pulls her to his chest again.

"Move back in with me."

She tilts her head upwards to look at him.

"Move back in with me, Ari." He looks away for a brief second. "I miss you. And I want you back with me."

She isn't quite sure what to say. She's not sure if she can handle a repeat of this and he sees this in her eyes. "I promise, I'll never leave you. I can't."

She looks him in the eye then. "Can't or won't?" Her counter is soft this time, not like the previous time and he smiles, just a small one then.

"Won't," He corrects himself. "I won't leave you."

Ending's a little sucky. One last chapter...?

Review! Love you all.