Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Apologies for taking so long to update this!

Ariadne bit her lip as she looked through her closet. She could not think of what to wear for her date with Arthur. She rummaged through the neat line of clothes, feeling herself becoming more bewildered with the choice.

"A dress", she murmured. "A dress, something - classy."

She pulled a simple black dress of the rack and held it to herself. It was well cut, flattering - but, she found herself sighing. It didn't feel as though it would be her.

She ran a hand through her hair, and sunk down onto the bed. She was meant to be meeting him in just under an hour, but still couldn't think of what to wear.

Then, she had a thought. She remembered overhearing a conversation between Eames and Arthur - the type of conversation held when it was assumed no-one else was listening. Eames had remarked upon make-up, and Arthur, almost casually, had commented how much he preferred the natural look.

"Au naturel is the best," he'd said, and Eames, grinning, had allowed him to go back to his work.

She swallowed, and looked down at the outfit she was wearing. Pale denim jeans; a button up shirt; a black jacket, and neck scarf. Could she allow herself to go to dinner with Arthur like this?

She paused. I'll do anything you want, he'd promised. Picking up a comb and running it hastily through her tangled dark curls, she adjusted her scarf, and began to leave.

Arthur looked at his watch. He was waiting at the table, in the restaurant, impatiently tapping his fingers on the top of the smooth, polished surface. He'd agreed to meet her at 7.30pm - she was already late.

What's keeping her? he thought, a stab of insecurity needling its way to the surface. He picked up his water glass, and took a sip, trying to calm himself.

He wanted to do things properly. Take her out. Show her that he was a gentleman. And then, maybe he would feel ready to deal with Ariadne's secret desires. Desires that were making him feel-

He shook his head. Stop it. Control yourself.

"Would you like to see the wine list, Sir?"

He blinked. A waiter was standing in front of him, his face impassive. Nodding, Arthur allowed the leather bound volume to be handed to him. He began to scan the list of red wines.

"A bottle of Beaujolais, please," he said, and handed the menu back. Swallowing, he leaned back in his seat, and reached again for his water glass.

"Arthur?"

He blinked. The Architect was standing in front of him, looking slightly dishevelled. His eyes widened as he took in her outfit.

"Ari, did you-" he stopped himself. The words even bother to change where on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them, trying to control his emotions. He looked at himself - he was wearing a sleek charcoal suit, and the restaurant was expensive. Was she trying to make a fool out of him? Punish him for his behaviour in her apartment?

Punish him for not punishing her?

The thought shook him, and he reached again for the water glass. His eyes casually wandered up her body. He frowned - why did she hide herself in layers of baggy, ill-fitting fabric?

He realised she was looking at him with an expression of consternation that was rapidly mutating into one of worry. He hastily took a swallow of water, then put the glass down.

"Please," he said, his voice soft, "join me."

Ariadne sat down, feeling her stomach tighten. She was sure she'd seen Arthur frown - frown with displeasure. Swallowing, she reached for a menu, and opened it.

"The restaurant's nice," she managed, and he nodded. He put his glass down, and looked at her.

"Ari, your clothes..." his voice trailed off. "I didn't realise you'd be dressing so- casually."

"Well, I was in a hurry," she said, quickly. "I had a model to finish, and then-"

"But it doesn't matter," he said, hurriedly, cutting her off. "Its just-"

"Just what?" She pressed.

"You have a really-" he stopped. Something as stirring within him - and he was beginning to feel shocked that he could veer so close to being crude. Normally, he chose his words very carefully. "Its just, you wear this baggy stuff, and-"

She raised an eyebrow. "Arthur. Do you want to see me in something...tighter? More revealing?" She leaned back, feeling surprised at her own boldness. She felt as though she were teasing him, trying to trap him into confessing things he'd perhaps prefer to keep secret. She picked up her water glass.

He looked at her. "Ari...I'm sorry. Its just I-"

She reached over, cupping his hand in hers. "I'm sorry, too. I think I'm trying to-" She blushed. "Well, I don't know what I'm trying to do."

His fingers tightened round hers. "Shall we order?"

She nodded. "Yes, please."

He gestured to the waiter. "And when we've finished...back to my place?"

Ariadne swallowed. "Yes." She felt her heart lift. "That would be perfect."

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