Good Intent. NC-17.
Title: Good Intent
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: They belong to Christopher Nolan, and I borrow them out of love.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. For the second round of i_reversebang. I received prompt #1033 by nessismore. I finished my reversebang fic pretty early on and had another idea for a story. So, this is the surprise bonus fic for the prompt. It's no less angsty than the first offering, just so you know.
Summary: Ariadne was supposed to be a wide-eyed innocent that Cobb found to be their architect for the Fischer job. Arthur never imagined she was more than that.
Good Intent
Ariadne tracked Arthur down after the Fischer job. "I can't stay away," she said in quiet tones over the phone. Arthur could imagine her in her corduroys and boots, shyly looking down at her toes as she spoke. "Not just for this past job," she continued, "but in general. The dreaming, I mean. I want it. I want to be a part of that. I'll do anything it takes to get involved."
"Anything?" he had scoffed. In the silence that followed, Arthur imagined her flushing and looking chagrined, though she had never really looked that way during the prep for the Fischer job. When it came to architecture, she was self assured and secure in her knowledge base. She was eager to talk and discuss her ideas, with no difficulty collaborating to make the final product even better than the original ideas.
"Will you help me?" she asked finally.
"Did you ask Eames?" Arthur asked, curious. Cobb was no longer in the field, and if he was smart it would stay that way. His children needed a father without a price tag on his head. Yusuf went back to Mombasa richer and even more certain he didn't like going into the field. The only other player that Ariadne knew was Eames, and Arthur couldn't imagine that the forger would think that Ariadne should enter dream share.
"I can't find him. He disconnected the number he was using."
"So did I."
"But you still keep in touch with Cobb and Professor Miles. Cobb gave me this number."
"You didn't tell him that you were interested in staying in dream share," Arthur guessed.
"No," Ariadne admitted with a rueful note to her voice. "But I'm sure he understands what my intentions are."
Arthur was in a nondescript hotel room in Kiev. He had allowed himself three weeks of downtime to relax and be sure that his projections weren't running rampant. At first he had thought he could go for six, but after three weeks he felt out of sorts. It had been like an itch along the back of his neck, an uncomfortable feeling in his spine. He needed to be occupied with tasks like he needed air to breathe, so he had put out a few feelers for jobs. One of his contacts in Moscow knew of an extractor without a steady team, and so far he had checked out. The job would be a simple one, but at least the exercise would keep him busy.
"What are your intentions?" Arthur asked, his voice almost taking on a husky note without his meaning to. It was a slip, like the kiss on the hotel level, but one that seemed to wind up being an acceptable risk.
"Can I see you?" she asked as an answer. "I... I want more, Arthur," she said, the faint edge of desire and need in her tone. "Everything feels empty and unreal in comparison to what we've been through."
"That could be dangerous. That feeling can lead you to take unnecessary risks, get addicted to somnacin and ruin your mind."
"You'd guide me," Ariadne said confidently. She had perfect trust in him, just as Cobb did, and for a moment Arthur missed that. It was almost a physical ache in his chest. "I know you'd take care of me," Ariadne continued, unaware of his response to her words. "You'd show me what I need to know to stay safe."
"How soon can you be in Kiev?" he asked before he could weigh the import of what he was doing. Arthur was being impulsive, which wasn't like him. But he remembered the feel of her lips against his, even though it was brief and not nearly as passionate as he had wanted it to be. Her lips had curled into a smile, and she had spent the six days of the first level with him, talking about everything and nothing. She had touched him at times, had looked at him intensely, but had never crossed the line with him. Arthur hadn't crossed it again either.
But now he was starting to think that perhaps he could.
Ariadne's delighted laugh filled the line and warmed him more than it really should have. "I'll text you my arrival time."
***
Sometimes having to explain things to someone else could be irritating. Arthur knew many things about dream share, though his main area of expertise worked best in the point man role. He liked being organized he and had his own routine in place, one that Cobb had never once questioned. With Ariadne, she didn't question him to undermine his authority. She was trying to learn what he did and why he did it, from security to background checks to the weapons he favored in and out of the dreams. She dutifully absorbed everything he said about dream share, just as she had during the initial training sessions for the Fischer job. Arthur had never relished the teacher's role, but her bright smiles softened his irritation. She was close to him at all times and never countermanded his orders. If anything, she seemed more like a shadow absorbing everything he did and said.
The proximity kept recalling the stolen kiss from hotel level of the Fischer job. She was right there, a hint of a smile on her lips, appreciation in her eyes.
It had been years since Arthur was in a relationship. Quick fucks in hotel rooms or bar bathrooms didn't count. That had been purely about physical release when masturbation didn't take the edge off. He had to focus, had to stay on task. It hadn't been just his reputation on the line, after all. He had to support Cobb when the man was falling apart. Arthur had been friends with Mal once, and she never would have forgiven him for letting Cobb deteriorate in her absence.
He was startled to be thinking of relationships or romance. Usually his primary focus was on work. He didn't allow himself any leeway to get distracted. Distraction in this field usually meant complications that couldn't be saved. It could even mean death. Normally, he didn't even want to let his thoughts wander to anything outside of the job. That only led to pain and the reminder that happiness didn't last; Dom Cobb and Mal had been the happiest couple that he knew, and their marriage had still fallen apart. It had been due to the PASIV experimentation, but the fact of the matter was that their marriage had ended in the spectacular way that it had. Eames may have taunted him that he had no imagination, but that wasn't accurate at all. If anything, Arthur had too much, but it was always pessimistic. Something would go terribly, horribly wrong. Someone would get hurt. Someone would fall apart, even die. He had too much responsibility to think of tempting fate that way.
But Arthur was on his own now, unattached and not beholden to anyone. He didn't have to save a man bent on his own destruction, didn't have to uphold the memory of a woman dead and no longer suffering. He could stop and think about what he wanted for himself. He could give in to his desires, could focus on more than the absolute minimum needs that he had.
Ariadne was charming, gracious, innocent and determined to be everything that Arthur wanted her to be. She knew about the dangers inherent in dream share and dove in headfirst to help Cobb. He was a relative stranger, yet she had done it anyway. If Arthur had the slightest edge of irritation in his voice, she stopped what she was doing and tried to remember what he had said earlier. She didn't want him to be exasperated with her, and Arthur suspected it wasn't just for his knowledge about dream share.
That suspicion was confirmed one night when they were working late. They had been in Kiev for nearly a month at that point, on the eve of the actual extraction. Ariadne asked if there were last minute adjustments to the maze that Arthur would dream for the extractor. He was confident that it would work. Just as he was about to bid her goodnight and leave, she blocked his path and kissed him on the mouth.
Arthur didn't say anything for a moment and simply watched her through his eyelashes. She didn't fidget or blush, though she blinked rapidly. "Did I make a mistake?" she asked quietly, voice sounding a little rough.
He cupped her face in one hand. "Is this what you want?" he asked.
"Yes."
He kissed her hungrily, licking into her mouth as she threw her arms around him. She was on her tip toes, clinging to him for balance as she returned his kiss with equal fervor. Arthur walked forward, backing her up against the wall. He moved his hands down to her hips, lifting her up slightly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him even more tightly, her mouth fused to his. He had to break the kiss to breathe. "Not here," he managed to say.
"Why not here?" Ariadne asked, moving to kiss him again.
It was flattering and gave Arthur an almost heady sense of power. "I want more than just a quick fuck against the wall." As he growled the words, he realized it was true. He wanted something more than just a physical relationship, something real. Something like the relationship Mal and Cobb had before it all went awry.
Ariadne smiled. "Ah. I can do that."
They went to his hotel room and were kissing as soon as the door was shut behind them. He pushed her against the door, holding her hands above her head with one hand and cupping a breast with the other. Ariadne made soft mewling noises of need, hips tilted toward his. He smiled against her mouth, sliding his tongue between her parted lips. Teasing her this way was fun, though agonizing. "I want to be inside you," he growled against her neck.
"I'm on the pill," she told him helpfully.
"Thank God."
Clothes were shed on the way to the bed. She was tiny in the sea of crisp white sheeting, limbs splayed wide. He worked her open with lips and tongue and fingers, savoring the taste of her. He might have dreamed about that one too many times. She went from slightly damp to soaking wet, writhing beneath his mouth and pulling at the sheets. Ariadne was nearly incoherent with need when she tugged on his shoulder, trying to pull him up. Arthur finally obliged her, moving to hover over her. He threaded the fingers of his left hand through hers and balanced his weight there, then used his right to guide himself into her. She was deliciously tight and wet around him, tilting her hips and wrapping her legs around his waist to draw him in deeper.
Arthur thrust hard and fast, savoring the sound of her cries. He was surprised when she pulled him down for a kiss, apparently not minding the taste of herself on his tongue. It was hotter than he expected it to be, and he groaned in frustration. "I'm not going to last like this," he said against her mouth.
"Then don't," she replied with a grin. "I'll have to get you hard again."
Arthur shifted and pulled her legs from his waist. He pushed them up, which tilted her hips beneath him. Ariadne was bent practically in half, and she helped hold her thighs in place, opening herself up to him. She smiled invitingly and clenched her inner muscles as he drove hard and fast inside her. It sent him over the edge, and he came with a satisfied grunt.
Ariadne held him close, running her fingers through his hair. "This is going to be a wonderful partnership," she said with a smile.
Kissing her, Arthur was inclined to agree.
***
Thierry was only too glad to meet Ariadne and get her input on the job. It went smoothly, of course, and Ariadne added his name and some notations to her phone. Arthur looked on in amusement and looked at her annotations. "Did you want to copy everything off of my sim card?" he joked.
"Could I?" she asked brightly, picking up his cell phone and hitting the contacts icon. "That would make things so much easier."
Arthur snorted. "Even if you had names and numbers, you wouldn't have the introductions or the cachet it would take to have them talk to you. Some of these people are friends of mine, not just colleagues. A few of them go back to before I even entered dream share." He plucked his phone from her fingers and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "Come on. It was a job well done. Let's go celebrate somewhere."
"What did you have in mind?" Ariadne asked, a twinkle in her eyes as she smiled at him.
"That, too," he said, understanding her meaning immediately. "But I meant dinner first."
"If you insist," she laughed.
After dinner and dessert, they returned to his hotel room. Ariadne rode him hard, her hands on either side of his head, her hair falling down in a curtain around their heads. She looked at him intently, eyes locked to his as she moved. He warned her when he was about to come, hands on her hips to try to slow her down. If anything, Ariadne moved even faster, breath coming in short pants. "Come for me," she gasped, grinding down hard against him. "I want to watch you come, Arthur. Come on, come on," she said, keeping up the punishing pace. She only slowed when he arched up against her, groaning.
Ariadne grinned at his wrecked expression. "There's my celebration for a job well done," she teased. Curling up over his torso, she ran her hand along his chest lightly. "So what's next, then? I'm sure you have something lined up. You were always far too busy for a job as easy as this one was."
Arthur let out a huff of laughter and tangled his hand in her hair. "All in good time. Sleep first while we can. The next one is going to be more involved."
She pouted slightly, but that was all Arthur would say. They slept, tangled in each other's arms.
***
The next several jobs spun by quickly. Arthur introduced her to several of his reliable contacts, all of whom were bigger players in the intelligence community. Ariadne soaked up all of his pointers about the situation, making him smile. It was nice to be appreciated, to have her single minded attention directed at him. "This is important to me," she told him in all seriousness when he commented on her drive. She was holding his wrist at the time, and they had been talking about security measures for her tiny apartment in Paris. Arthur was starting to think about inviting her to stay at one of his safe houses, which was unprecedented on his part. Even Cobb had only been there out of duress and not for very long.
He was heartened that she felt the same way that he did, even if neither of them said the words. It was as if saying the dreaded I love you would somehow jinx it, would leave them vulnerable to intrusion from the outside world. Arthur wasn't exactly superstitious, but having too many attachments could make someone weak or distracted in this business. They could be a liability, and he had spent a little over two years propping up Cobb after he fell apart. If he wasn't the epitome of a cautionary tale, Arthur didn't know who would be. But Ariadne seemed to appreciate his caution, listening avidly as he explained security and holding several identities to maintain safety.
Arthur lifted her hand to his lips in a gallant gesture. It made her smile, golden eyes lighting up in genuine delight. "Good. This is important to me, too."
That was as close as he could get to the words, and he thought she understood that. She certainly never pushed him for more. Maybe she understood that he was saying it with every kiss to her bared skin, every time he brushed his hand along her spine as she talked on the phone with someone, every time he included her in his planning. He showed her how much he loved her, which was infinitely more valuable, anyway.
Ariadne constructed an elaborate home on paper, with bay windows, a section that looked almost like a turret and a covered porch that looked as though it had multiple bedrooms. "At least four, I think," she replied when he commented on the design. "I'm still not sure about the dimensions, but I'm fairly certain about the exteriors, at least." She flashed him a satisfied smile. "You know how picky I can get about that," she laughed.
"No more than I get with planning," he agreed, kissing the top of her head. She leaned into his touch, humming happily. "This isn't for a job, though."
"Nope. I've been working on this off and on for a long time, just tinkering. I've had the design more or less in my head since I started school."
Arthur was touched that she was showing him the design. It was intensely personal, likely her own gesture of attachment. He curled a lock of her hair around his finger as he looked down at the house in her sketchbook. "Is that somewhere you would like to live?"
"Someday," she said quietly, closing the book. "But not now." Ariadne looked up at him, lips curled into a smile before she kissed him on the lips. "This is what I want right now."
She pushed him onto his back and kissed his face, jaw and neck, then moved down to remove his clothes. Arthur tangled his fingers in her hair when she swallowed him down, tongue running over the length of him. She cupped his balls with one hand, fingers stroking the perineum and inner thighs as she shifted to get a better position. Ariadne teased him mercilessly, then moved to suck on his balls and nip at his inner thigh. Then she moved to nuzzle and lick at his hole, before moving over to grin at him in amusement. "Mind if I play?"
"Go right ahead," Arthur replied, grinning back at her.
Ariadne drizzled lube liberally over her fingers and worked one inside of him as she licked and nibbled on his cock. Arthur let out little appreciative noises, particularly when she found his prostate and pressed against it as she sucked harder on him. He bucked his hips against her mouth, and he could feel her lips pull back in a smile. Ariadne hummed again, that little pleased hum she had, and the slight vibration was enough to send him over the edge. She swallowed and then sat back with a grin as she removed her fingers. "I take it you liked that," she said, a satisfied note to her voice.
"Just a bit," he agreed, stretching languidly beneath her. "You can do that again anytime you like," he added as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. "What about you?"
"Oh, I'm going to wash up." She gave him a flirty grin over her shoulder as she headed to the bathroom. "Feel free to join me."
It took about two hours for them to finish washing up.
***
Arthur found himself researching diamonds, and not just because their latest subject was an expert in the field. Ariadne was laughing along with the extractor on this particular job, a man that Eames had recommended. The forger had been pleased to work with them again, especially without the risk of limbo hanging over their heads. "Seems I may have misjudged you," Eames said, settling into a chair across from Arthur. He had appropriated a desk in the open workspace for his laptop and notebooks, and most of the others seemed to understand that he didn't like his work area interfered with. Of course Eames never really followed unspoken rules if he didn't expressly have to. He picked up a few of Arthur's folders, rearranging their order when he placed them back on the desk.
"What about?" Arthur asked, not bothering to look away from his laptop.
"I never pegged you for the casual attachments in the field," Eames remarked. He shrugged at Arthur's glower in his general direction. "You are far too serious, Arthur. It's good to see that you're capable of casual affairs, too."
"Does this have anything to do with the job at hand?" he asked in a bored tone.
Eames looked across the workspace toward Ariadne and the extractor, who had his hand on her back as he leaned in close to look at the model she had built. "Perhaps not," Eames said slowly, looking back toward Arthur. "I'm surprised you're with Ariadne, I suppose."
That got Arthur's attention and set his back up. "Why is that? You think she'd be interested in someone more like you?"
The forger shook his head. "It's not like that. It's something I can't quite put my finger on, but the ambition she had in getting the job done... I don't think it meshes well with your style, is all. I'm surprised you've become quite the team that you have, especially given some of the comments that I've heard."
"Why? What have you heard? The jobs were completed and I haven't heard any complaints." Now Arthur was starting to get irritated, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what Eames was truly getting at. The forger was a survivor, and he rarely did or said anything without a particular reason.
"Not your work ethic, darling," Eames replied with a conciliatory smile. "The company you keep certainly hasn't altered that in the least. I suppose people were just assuming you would start working solo, rather than attaching yourself to someone else in the business. And especially someone as similar to Cobb in some ways, for all that our Ariadne is new."
"Well, Cobb was initially an architect," Arthur replied, dismissing this conversation from his mind already. Perhaps Eames was simply bored. Needling others for fun seemed to be on Eames' list of acceptable ways to pass the time.
But the expression on his face told Arthur that he was actually trying to be tactful in his conversation for a change. There was something he wanted to say about Ariadne, but wasn't willing to simply say it outright. It would be interesting if Arthur stopped to think about it with more objectivity. He was all but incapable of that where Ariadne was concerned. "Out with it," he finally snapped. "You want to say something, so just come right out and tell me whatever it is you think you need to say."
"She's ruthless," Eames said flatly. It wasn't to needle Arthur, wasn't to try to cause waves. "I saw it during our training and that last job we all did together. There wasn't a bit of concern for the subject at all, if you recall. Not one shred of guilt about what was done or why, and most of her talk then was about how to get more experience in the field."
Something crawled along Arthur's spine, though he couldn't name the source of the feeling of dread that came over him at Eames' words. "So?" he said finally.
"Your man Cobb at least acknowledged that the field had some serious moral conundrums prior to the Fischer job. It didn't stop him from risking us all for his own personal gain, but at least he didn't pretend to take the moral high ground. Ariadne didn't question the ethics of the job even once, and that had been her first foray into dream share." Eames put all the folders on the desk into a single pile and placed it beside Arthur's laptop. "I don't think you see her the way everyone else does, Arthur. And I don't think the two of you have the same goals in mind."
Arthur's glower could be a fierce and terrible thing if he was truly angry, and he was swiftly approaching that point. He didn't understand why Eames was going out of his way to say these things about Ariadne. They weren't friends, and even as colleagues they occasionally were far too contentious for Arthur's liking. "And what would those be?" he snapped.
"She wants the next job. For her, there will only ever be the next job, the next group of people to meet and cozy up to. You're in this for the challenge, Arthur. If it stopped being interesting, you'd give it up in a heartbeat."
"So would you."
Eames smiled. "Of course. But the decadent lifestyle is certainly a perk." He drummed his fingers on the desk idly as the smile slid slowly from his face. "But you don't do things halfway, and she's not looking for anything long term. You're one of the best at what you do, and you know the major players. I don't want to see the field become populated by idiots when you leave after something goes wrong."
"Your concern is misplaced," Arthur said, voice tight. He was trying to control his temper; what right did Eames have to say anything about this? There was no reason to start attacking his relationship with Ariadne or painting her as some kind of mercenary. "I can handle my own life, Mr. Eames."
He backed away immediately, nodding. "Understood."
Though Eames didn't treat Ariadne with anything short of respect and never brought it up again for the duration of that job, the words wouldn't leave Arthur's mind.
The world's most resilient parasite was an idea, after all. It didn't require inception to plant it.
***
Ariadne didn't plan things out farther than the months it took to set up and complete jobs. When Arthur mentioned their one year anniversary coming up, she was startled. "Have we really been together that long?" she asked. "It doesn't feel like it's been more than a few months," she said with a smile, leaning in to kiss him. "I suppose time flies when you're having fun. So what do you want to do?"
"Oh, we can just lounge around naked all day," Arthur suggested, smiling widely enough that his eyes crinkled and there were dimples. She laughed and giggled her agreement, especially when he grasped hold of her and swung her around. She laughed, hands up over her face when he started kissing and tickling her.
She kissed him back and threw her arms around his shoulders. "So it's a plan, then. A nice break before we're off on the next adventure of a job."
Eames couldn't be right about her, Arthur decided. She was invested in her relationship with him. It wasn't a means to an end. It wasn't for the contacts he had or the people he knew, wasn't because she didn't have any other way to dream. She loved him as much as he loved her, even if neither said the words.
"I love you," he murmured as she kissed her way down his chest. It was the first time he had uttered the words aloud, and it seemed like the right time to say it.
"I know," she murmured before taking him into her mouth.
It never occurred to him that she didn't say the words back.
***
Elsa Sharpova was known as a ruthless extractor in certain circles. Arthur had worked with her once or twice before, and he had always behaved in a respectful manner. Part of her ruthlessness was that she obtained results no matter what the cost; she thought nothing of leaving a body count behind her if she had to. Her personal life was never the stuff of rumor. The last girl that thought to tattle about bedroom antics was later found in an alley with her throat slit from ear to ear and her intestines pulled out.
"I have a job that you could help me with, perhaps," she purred, smiling sweetly at Arthur and Ariadne. "It's fairly simple, as far as I'm concerned, but my usual point has cut and run from this one."
Arthur lofted an eyebrow at Elsa. "Why?" he asked, no judgment in his tone. "Andrei isn't exactly averse to dangerous situations."
"He won't leave his wife this close to her due date," Elsa said flatly. Arthur nodded, satisfied with the answer. She looked from Arthur to Ariadne. "I can even ignore my usual architect if she's as good as you say she is."
"She's better," Arthur replied, a hint of a smile on his lips.
"You're a pretty thing," Elsa said, running her fingers along Ariadne's arm. Her smile was predatory and full of desire. "I'm sure you can give me a good reason to work with you both, da?" she asked, leaning in.
Arthur watched Ariadne give Elsa a flirty smile rather than pull away. "Elsa..." he began in a warning tone.
She merely laughed. "But she's such a darling little morsel, Arthur. Don't be greedy."
Ariadne still wasn't disagreeing, and seemed to be flirting back as the evening went on. If she realized Arthur was unhappy with her behavior, she gave no sign. She was subtly implying she welcomed Elsa's advances. Finally unable to tolerate it any further, Arthur caught her arm and all but yanked her from the table. "A moment, Elsa," he said sharply. The extractor laughed and held up her hands in surrender. He knew she would back down if Ariadne protested, and it was bothering him that she wasn't. "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed at her when he got her to a quiet corner.
"What are you doing?" she countered, irritation in her voice. "I thought we were here to negotiate terms for a job."
"You are not on the menu!"
Ariadne sighed and looked at Arthur evenly. "All I did was smile at her and go along with what she said. It's not a big deal."
"She'll back off if you're not willing. It's not part of the deal."
"You mean she's serious with that?" At Arthur's nod, she grinned. "Great. I can work with that, use it against her."
"No. That's absolutely out of the question."
Ariadne rolled her eyes and seemed irritated with his response. "Look. I get her off, we get the job. Right? We make her happy, then she sets us up with the job and her people. We can negotiate with her for better terms."
Something shriveled in his chest at the cold and mercenary way she seemed to be reacting to Elsa's advances. He thought of the ring he had been willing to buy, the way Eames had politely tried to tell him the Ariadne wasn't who he thought she was. Arthur still didn't want to believe it, still wanted to believe that she wouldn't manipulate someone's emotions to get what she wanted out of them. He wanted to believe that she wouldn't manipulate him to get ahead, that she wasn't simply using him.
He wanted to believe in her, but this wasn't aligning well with that belief.
"What's wrong with you?" Ariadne asked, confused.
"That's off the table," Arthur insisted. "We're in a relationship, Ariadne. You don't go whoring yourself out for jobs."
She shot him a pitying look. "She knows plenty of people in the business, " Ariadne began with her usual earnest expression. "You can't afford to go pissing her off, then. It's just sex, Arthur. I can do a good job with it, if that's what you're afraid of."
Arthur only stared at her for a moment. "I can't believe what I'm hearing," he said in a low tone.
"I've fucked a woman before, Arthur. It's not a big deal," Ariadne insisted. "I don't know why you're so upset. You wanted this job, and I can help you get it."
"No job is worth our relationship, Ariadne," Arthur snapped.
"Relationship?" she echoed. "Arthur..."
"If you go to her, you're doing this without me."
"You're getting upset for no reason. I can do this, and we'll get the job and the contacts that she has." Her tone seemed to consist of disbelief, denial and pity all at once. Arthur's expression took on its old shuttered look as he felt his world shift on its axis. This couldn't be real. This wasn't happening. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Eames was not supposed to be right about her, even if he seemed to understand human motivation only too well. Arthur had wanted to simply burn the forger's words from his mind, but here was Ariadne all but telling him that she didn't value what they had as much as he did. Why did she think he would approve of this? She didn't seem to realize that her mercenary view was turning him off.
"What's more important to you?" he asked, voice hard and angry. "I don't need or want this job, Ariadne. You can walk away with me, or you can stay here alone. Make up your mind."
Ariadne rolled her eyes and headed back toward Elsa. She didn't back down when Arthur didn't accompany her, and started discussing aspects of the job with Elsa. Ariadne didn't look back to watch him leave.
***
When she returned to the hotel room she had been sharing with Arthur, all of his possessions were gone and the room looked as if he had never been there. She tried calling all of his contacts that she knew about, but none would speak with her except for Thierry. "Look, Ariadne. I liked you, so I'll let you know what's going on," he told her. There was a fair bit of exasperation in his tone, enough to give her pause.
Liked?
"Arthur's gone to ground," he said when she remained silent. "He doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, and especially not you."
"But..."
"Whatever it was that you did," Thierry interrupted, voice hard, "you fucked up big time. I don't know what it was and I don't care. There are different circles in dream share, and most of us stick together. It's the only way to evade the authorities and get into the really big jobs. You can't work in this field alone. If you really plan to get ahead in this field, you better pray to God that Arthur forgives you for whatever it is you've done."
"Thierry, I didn't do anything!" she said before he could hang up on her. "I was helping him get a job with Elsa!"
There was an almost pained pause on the other side of the line. "Ariadne, Arthur only takes the jobs he really wants to do. He's not hurting for money and his reputation is spotless. If you really think you didn't do anything, then there's nothing I can tell you."
"What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded.
"You hurt him," Thierry told her shortly. "You don't even know what you did and you're not even sorry. I don't think any of us will forgive you for that."
Ariadne was left holding a dead line in an empty hotel room, wondering what went wrong. It wasn't like Arthur to simply cut off communication. He had put up with far worse for a long time with Cobb, and whatever it was he thought she did had to pale in comparison to the shade of Mal hurting him repeatedly.
She dialed a few numbers, a nagging feeling deep in her gut. She was missing something, which wasn't like her. The only person willing to take her call was Eames, and he sounded much more subdued than he usually did when speaking with her. "So it finally fell apart," he said, tone bland as if he had expected this call sooner or later.
Frowning as she stared off at the wall of the room, Ariadne took a breath. "Arthur left."
"I suppose you should tell me what happened from the beginning," he said quietly.
The words tumbled out in disarray, and she got up to pace with agitated, jerky steps. That was usually the way Arthur gathered his thoughts together, and it did seem to help a little. Eames remained silent for the most part, occasionally making noises to encourage her to continue with her tale. Finally, Ariadne stood in front of the window, phone held in a white knuckled grip as she waited for Eames' judgment.
"You didn't hear what he did say," Eames said finally. "He saw what he wanted to see in you, and he's not one for words when action will do. But he did finally put his foot down and tell you what he was thinking, and you missed it."
Our relationship, he had said. Ariadne suddenly recalled the fury and pain in his eyes when he said the words, and she had simply brushed it off.
She blew out a breath. "Is it too late, then?" she asked, voice small and cowed. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, her other hand tightening into a fist. Her nails digging into her palm was a welcome pain at this point. Likely, she deserved far worse.
"It depends," Eames said quietly, his tone a fraction warmer. "Was it real or not?"
"I... I don't want it to end this way. I don't want him hurting like this."
"Do you love him?" Eames insisted.
Ariadne knew how important her next words were. She could say "Of course I do!" and expect everything to fall back into her lap. But it wasn't exactly the truth, and she was speaking with the one person that would know. If she had said this to Thierry, he would tell her where Arthur had gone to ground. Eames would shut her out and never speak to her again.
"I... It's not the same as what he feels for me," she said after a moment. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm even capable of that."
"I couldn't tell you that," Eames told her. He sounded almost as if he was leaning back in his seat a little, stretching. He couldn't hate her if he was that relaxed, Ariadne reasoned. "But I'm sure if you put that mind of yours to work, you'd realize where he would go when he's distressed. You know more about him than probably anyone else on the planet at this point, Ariadne."
"He doesn't want to see me," Ariadne murmured.
"His entire world just got turned inside out. Would you?" Eames pointed out.
"I'd want to do something about it."
"Yes, you would. He isn't that way, Ariadne. He's intensely private, very driven, and tends to throw himself body and soul into something he believes in. If something can't capture his interest, he will walk away." Eames paused. "He will likely try to disembowel me simply for saying something like this to you."
"So why are you?"
"Because if you're calling me to repair things with him, then you aren't who I thought you were, either."
The quiet words stung. "So who am I?"
"Brilliant but untempered. Thoughtless, ruthless and impulsive," Eames said flatly. "Some choice words could apply to me as well, I suppose. But that's neither here nor there. You broke him, Ariadne. It's up to you what to do next."
"Thank you, Eames."
"It remains to be seen if either of you will really thank me for this interference."
"You have good intentions."
He snorted. "So did you, hm? And we all know what the road to hell is paved with."
Ariadne got off the phone and leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to get her heartbeat to slow down. She could try to contact Arthur, beg his forgiveness and wait for his call. But he had his pride, and he wouldn't call her back.
She would have to track him down and do it in person. Maybe in time he could even forgive her for not realizing sooner what she had meant to him. All she had left were her good intentions, and she had to hope that they were good enough.
The End
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur
Disclaimer: They belong to Christopher Nolan, and I borrow them out of love.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. For the second round of i_reversebang. I received prompt #1033 by nessismore. I finished my reversebang fic pretty early on and had another idea for a story. So, this is the surprise bonus fic for the prompt. It's no less angsty than the first offering, just so you know.
Summary: Ariadne was supposed to be a wide-eyed innocent that Cobb found to be their architect for the Fischer job. Arthur never imagined she was more than that.
Good Intent
Ariadne tracked Arthur down after the Fischer job. "I can't stay away," she said in quiet tones over the phone. Arthur could imagine her in her corduroys and boots, shyly looking down at her toes as she spoke. "Not just for this past job," she continued, "but in general. The dreaming, I mean. I want it. I want to be a part of that. I'll do anything it takes to get involved."
"Anything?" he had scoffed. In the silence that followed, Arthur imagined her flushing and looking chagrined, though she had never really looked that way during the prep for the Fischer job. When it came to architecture, she was self assured and secure in her knowledge base. She was eager to talk and discuss her ideas, with no difficulty collaborating to make the final product even better than the original ideas.
"Will you help me?" she asked finally.
"Did you ask Eames?" Arthur asked, curious. Cobb was no longer in the field, and if he was smart it would stay that way. His children needed a father without a price tag on his head. Yusuf went back to Mombasa richer and even more certain he didn't like going into the field. The only other player that Ariadne knew was Eames, and Arthur couldn't imagine that the forger would think that Ariadne should enter dream share.
"I can't find him. He disconnected the number he was using."
"So did I."
"But you still keep in touch with Cobb and Professor Miles. Cobb gave me this number."
"You didn't tell him that you were interested in staying in dream share," Arthur guessed.
"No," Ariadne admitted with a rueful note to her voice. "But I'm sure he understands what my intentions are."
Arthur was in a nondescript hotel room in Kiev. He had allowed himself three weeks of downtime to relax and be sure that his projections weren't running rampant. At first he had thought he could go for six, but after three weeks he felt out of sorts. It had been like an itch along the back of his neck, an uncomfortable feeling in his spine. He needed to be occupied with tasks like he needed air to breathe, so he had put out a few feelers for jobs. One of his contacts in Moscow knew of an extractor without a steady team, and so far he had checked out. The job would be a simple one, but at least the exercise would keep him busy.
"What are your intentions?" Arthur asked, his voice almost taking on a husky note without his meaning to. It was a slip, like the kiss on the hotel level, but one that seemed to wind up being an acceptable risk.
"Can I see you?" she asked as an answer. "I... I want more, Arthur," she said, the faint edge of desire and need in her tone. "Everything feels empty and unreal in comparison to what we've been through."
"That could be dangerous. That feeling can lead you to take unnecessary risks, get addicted to somnacin and ruin your mind."
"You'd guide me," Ariadne said confidently. She had perfect trust in him, just as Cobb did, and for a moment Arthur missed that. It was almost a physical ache in his chest. "I know you'd take care of me," Ariadne continued, unaware of his response to her words. "You'd show me what I need to know to stay safe."
"How soon can you be in Kiev?" he asked before he could weigh the import of what he was doing. Arthur was being impulsive, which wasn't like him. But he remembered the feel of her lips against his, even though it was brief and not nearly as passionate as he had wanted it to be. Her lips had curled into a smile, and she had spent the six days of the first level with him, talking about everything and nothing. She had touched him at times, had looked at him intensely, but had never crossed the line with him. Arthur hadn't crossed it again either.
But now he was starting to think that perhaps he could.
Ariadne's delighted laugh filled the line and warmed him more than it really should have. "I'll text you my arrival time."
***
Sometimes having to explain things to someone else could be irritating. Arthur knew many things about dream share, though his main area of expertise worked best in the point man role. He liked being organized he and had his own routine in place, one that Cobb had never once questioned. With Ariadne, she didn't question him to undermine his authority. She was trying to learn what he did and why he did it, from security to background checks to the weapons he favored in and out of the dreams. She dutifully absorbed everything he said about dream share, just as she had during the initial training sessions for the Fischer job. Arthur had never relished the teacher's role, but her bright smiles softened his irritation. She was close to him at all times and never countermanded his orders. If anything, she seemed more like a shadow absorbing everything he did and said.
The proximity kept recalling the stolen kiss from hotel level of the Fischer job. She was right there, a hint of a smile on her lips, appreciation in her eyes.
It had been years since Arthur was in a relationship. Quick fucks in hotel rooms or bar bathrooms didn't count. That had been purely about physical release when masturbation didn't take the edge off. He had to focus, had to stay on task. It hadn't been just his reputation on the line, after all. He had to support Cobb when the man was falling apart. Arthur had been friends with Mal once, and she never would have forgiven him for letting Cobb deteriorate in her absence.
He was startled to be thinking of relationships or romance. Usually his primary focus was on work. He didn't allow himself any leeway to get distracted. Distraction in this field usually meant complications that couldn't be saved. It could even mean death. Normally, he didn't even want to let his thoughts wander to anything outside of the job. That only led to pain and the reminder that happiness didn't last; Dom Cobb and Mal had been the happiest couple that he knew, and their marriage had still fallen apart. It had been due to the PASIV experimentation, but the fact of the matter was that their marriage had ended in the spectacular way that it had. Eames may have taunted him that he had no imagination, but that wasn't accurate at all. If anything, Arthur had too much, but it was always pessimistic. Something would go terribly, horribly wrong. Someone would get hurt. Someone would fall apart, even die. He had too much responsibility to think of tempting fate that way.
But Arthur was on his own now, unattached and not beholden to anyone. He didn't have to save a man bent on his own destruction, didn't have to uphold the memory of a woman dead and no longer suffering. He could stop and think about what he wanted for himself. He could give in to his desires, could focus on more than the absolute minimum needs that he had.
Ariadne was charming, gracious, innocent and determined to be everything that Arthur wanted her to be. She knew about the dangers inherent in dream share and dove in headfirst to help Cobb. He was a relative stranger, yet she had done it anyway. If Arthur had the slightest edge of irritation in his voice, she stopped what she was doing and tried to remember what he had said earlier. She didn't want him to be exasperated with her, and Arthur suspected it wasn't just for his knowledge about dream share.
That suspicion was confirmed one night when they were working late. They had been in Kiev for nearly a month at that point, on the eve of the actual extraction. Ariadne asked if there were last minute adjustments to the maze that Arthur would dream for the extractor. He was confident that it would work. Just as he was about to bid her goodnight and leave, she blocked his path and kissed him on the mouth.
Arthur didn't say anything for a moment and simply watched her through his eyelashes. She didn't fidget or blush, though she blinked rapidly. "Did I make a mistake?" she asked quietly, voice sounding a little rough.
He cupped her face in one hand. "Is this what you want?" he asked.
"Yes."
He kissed her hungrily, licking into her mouth as she threw her arms around him. She was on her tip toes, clinging to him for balance as she returned his kiss with equal fervor. Arthur walked forward, backing her up against the wall. He moved his hands down to her hips, lifting her up slightly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him even more tightly, her mouth fused to his. He had to break the kiss to breathe. "Not here," he managed to say.
"Why not here?" Ariadne asked, moving to kiss him again.
It was flattering and gave Arthur an almost heady sense of power. "I want more than just a quick fuck against the wall." As he growled the words, he realized it was true. He wanted something more than just a physical relationship, something real. Something like the relationship Mal and Cobb had before it all went awry.
Ariadne smiled. "Ah. I can do that."
They went to his hotel room and were kissing as soon as the door was shut behind them. He pushed her against the door, holding her hands above her head with one hand and cupping a breast with the other. Ariadne made soft mewling noises of need, hips tilted toward his. He smiled against her mouth, sliding his tongue between her parted lips. Teasing her this way was fun, though agonizing. "I want to be inside you," he growled against her neck.
"I'm on the pill," she told him helpfully.
"Thank God."
Clothes were shed on the way to the bed. She was tiny in the sea of crisp white sheeting, limbs splayed wide. He worked her open with lips and tongue and fingers, savoring the taste of her. He might have dreamed about that one too many times. She went from slightly damp to soaking wet, writhing beneath his mouth and pulling at the sheets. Ariadne was nearly incoherent with need when she tugged on his shoulder, trying to pull him up. Arthur finally obliged her, moving to hover over her. He threaded the fingers of his left hand through hers and balanced his weight there, then used his right to guide himself into her. She was deliciously tight and wet around him, tilting her hips and wrapping her legs around his waist to draw him in deeper.
Arthur thrust hard and fast, savoring the sound of her cries. He was surprised when she pulled him down for a kiss, apparently not minding the taste of herself on his tongue. It was hotter than he expected it to be, and he groaned in frustration. "I'm not going to last like this," he said against her mouth.
"Then don't," she replied with a grin. "I'll have to get you hard again."
Arthur shifted and pulled her legs from his waist. He pushed them up, which tilted her hips beneath him. Ariadne was bent practically in half, and she helped hold her thighs in place, opening herself up to him. She smiled invitingly and clenched her inner muscles as he drove hard and fast inside her. It sent him over the edge, and he came with a satisfied grunt.
Ariadne held him close, running her fingers through his hair. "This is going to be a wonderful partnership," she said with a smile.
Kissing her, Arthur was inclined to agree.
***
Thierry was only too glad to meet Ariadne and get her input on the job. It went smoothly, of course, and Ariadne added his name and some notations to her phone. Arthur looked on in amusement and looked at her annotations. "Did you want to copy everything off of my sim card?" he joked.
"Could I?" she asked brightly, picking up his cell phone and hitting the contacts icon. "That would make things so much easier."
Arthur snorted. "Even if you had names and numbers, you wouldn't have the introductions or the cachet it would take to have them talk to you. Some of these people are friends of mine, not just colleagues. A few of them go back to before I even entered dream share." He plucked his phone from her fingers and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "Come on. It was a job well done. Let's go celebrate somewhere."
"What did you have in mind?" Ariadne asked, a twinkle in her eyes as she smiled at him.
"That, too," he said, understanding her meaning immediately. "But I meant dinner first."
"If you insist," she laughed.
After dinner and dessert, they returned to his hotel room. Ariadne rode him hard, her hands on either side of his head, her hair falling down in a curtain around their heads. She looked at him intently, eyes locked to his as she moved. He warned her when he was about to come, hands on her hips to try to slow her down. If anything, Ariadne moved even faster, breath coming in short pants. "Come for me," she gasped, grinding down hard against him. "I want to watch you come, Arthur. Come on, come on," she said, keeping up the punishing pace. She only slowed when he arched up against her, groaning.
Ariadne grinned at his wrecked expression. "There's my celebration for a job well done," she teased. Curling up over his torso, she ran her hand along his chest lightly. "So what's next, then? I'm sure you have something lined up. You were always far too busy for a job as easy as this one was."
Arthur let out a huff of laughter and tangled his hand in her hair. "All in good time. Sleep first while we can. The next one is going to be more involved."
She pouted slightly, but that was all Arthur would say. They slept, tangled in each other's arms.
***
The next several jobs spun by quickly. Arthur introduced her to several of his reliable contacts, all of whom were bigger players in the intelligence community. Ariadne soaked up all of his pointers about the situation, making him smile. It was nice to be appreciated, to have her single minded attention directed at him. "This is important to me," she told him in all seriousness when he commented on her drive. She was holding his wrist at the time, and they had been talking about security measures for her tiny apartment in Paris. Arthur was starting to think about inviting her to stay at one of his safe houses, which was unprecedented on his part. Even Cobb had only been there out of duress and not for very long.
He was heartened that she felt the same way that he did, even if neither of them said the words. It was as if saying the dreaded I love you would somehow jinx it, would leave them vulnerable to intrusion from the outside world. Arthur wasn't exactly superstitious, but having too many attachments could make someone weak or distracted in this business. They could be a liability, and he had spent a little over two years propping up Cobb after he fell apart. If he wasn't the epitome of a cautionary tale, Arthur didn't know who would be. But Ariadne seemed to appreciate his caution, listening avidly as he explained security and holding several identities to maintain safety.
Arthur lifted her hand to his lips in a gallant gesture. It made her smile, golden eyes lighting up in genuine delight. "Good. This is important to me, too."
That was as close as he could get to the words, and he thought she understood that. She certainly never pushed him for more. Maybe she understood that he was saying it with every kiss to her bared skin, every time he brushed his hand along her spine as she talked on the phone with someone, every time he included her in his planning. He showed her how much he loved her, which was infinitely more valuable, anyway.
Ariadne constructed an elaborate home on paper, with bay windows, a section that looked almost like a turret and a covered porch that looked as though it had multiple bedrooms. "At least four, I think," she replied when he commented on the design. "I'm still not sure about the dimensions, but I'm fairly certain about the exteriors, at least." She flashed him a satisfied smile. "You know how picky I can get about that," she laughed.
"No more than I get with planning," he agreed, kissing the top of her head. She leaned into his touch, humming happily. "This isn't for a job, though."
"Nope. I've been working on this off and on for a long time, just tinkering. I've had the design more or less in my head since I started school."
Arthur was touched that she was showing him the design. It was intensely personal, likely her own gesture of attachment. He curled a lock of her hair around his finger as he looked down at the house in her sketchbook. "Is that somewhere you would like to live?"
"Someday," she said quietly, closing the book. "But not now." Ariadne looked up at him, lips curled into a smile before she kissed him on the lips. "This is what I want right now."
She pushed him onto his back and kissed his face, jaw and neck, then moved down to remove his clothes. Arthur tangled his fingers in her hair when she swallowed him down, tongue running over the length of him. She cupped his balls with one hand, fingers stroking the perineum and inner thighs as she shifted to get a better position. Ariadne teased him mercilessly, then moved to suck on his balls and nip at his inner thigh. Then she moved to nuzzle and lick at his hole, before moving over to grin at him in amusement. "Mind if I play?"
"Go right ahead," Arthur replied, grinning back at her.
Ariadne drizzled lube liberally over her fingers and worked one inside of him as she licked and nibbled on his cock. Arthur let out little appreciative noises, particularly when she found his prostate and pressed against it as she sucked harder on him. He bucked his hips against her mouth, and he could feel her lips pull back in a smile. Ariadne hummed again, that little pleased hum she had, and the slight vibration was enough to send him over the edge. She swallowed and then sat back with a grin as she removed her fingers. "I take it you liked that," she said, a satisfied note to her voice.
"Just a bit," he agreed, stretching languidly beneath her. "You can do that again anytime you like," he added as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. "What about you?"
"Oh, I'm going to wash up." She gave him a flirty grin over her shoulder as she headed to the bathroom. "Feel free to join me."
It took about two hours for them to finish washing up.
***
Arthur found himself researching diamonds, and not just because their latest subject was an expert in the field. Ariadne was laughing along with the extractor on this particular job, a man that Eames had recommended. The forger had been pleased to work with them again, especially without the risk of limbo hanging over their heads. "Seems I may have misjudged you," Eames said, settling into a chair across from Arthur. He had appropriated a desk in the open workspace for his laptop and notebooks, and most of the others seemed to understand that he didn't like his work area interfered with. Of course Eames never really followed unspoken rules if he didn't expressly have to. He picked up a few of Arthur's folders, rearranging their order when he placed them back on the desk.
"What about?" Arthur asked, not bothering to look away from his laptop.
"I never pegged you for the casual attachments in the field," Eames remarked. He shrugged at Arthur's glower in his general direction. "You are far too serious, Arthur. It's good to see that you're capable of casual affairs, too."
"Does this have anything to do with the job at hand?" he asked in a bored tone.
Eames looked across the workspace toward Ariadne and the extractor, who had his hand on her back as he leaned in close to look at the model she had built. "Perhaps not," Eames said slowly, looking back toward Arthur. "I'm surprised you're with Ariadne, I suppose."
That got Arthur's attention and set his back up. "Why is that? You think she'd be interested in someone more like you?"
The forger shook his head. "It's not like that. It's something I can't quite put my finger on, but the ambition she had in getting the job done... I don't think it meshes well with your style, is all. I'm surprised you've become quite the team that you have, especially given some of the comments that I've heard."
"Why? What have you heard? The jobs were completed and I haven't heard any complaints." Now Arthur was starting to get irritated, his brows furrowing as he tried to figure out what Eames was truly getting at. The forger was a survivor, and he rarely did or said anything without a particular reason.
"Not your work ethic, darling," Eames replied with a conciliatory smile. "The company you keep certainly hasn't altered that in the least. I suppose people were just assuming you would start working solo, rather than attaching yourself to someone else in the business. And especially someone as similar to Cobb in some ways, for all that our Ariadne is new."
"Well, Cobb was initially an architect," Arthur replied, dismissing this conversation from his mind already. Perhaps Eames was simply bored. Needling others for fun seemed to be on Eames' list of acceptable ways to pass the time.
But the expression on his face told Arthur that he was actually trying to be tactful in his conversation for a change. There was something he wanted to say about Ariadne, but wasn't willing to simply say it outright. It would be interesting if Arthur stopped to think about it with more objectivity. He was all but incapable of that where Ariadne was concerned. "Out with it," he finally snapped. "You want to say something, so just come right out and tell me whatever it is you think you need to say."
"She's ruthless," Eames said flatly. It wasn't to needle Arthur, wasn't to try to cause waves. "I saw it during our training and that last job we all did together. There wasn't a bit of concern for the subject at all, if you recall. Not one shred of guilt about what was done or why, and most of her talk then was about how to get more experience in the field."
Something crawled along Arthur's spine, though he couldn't name the source of the feeling of dread that came over him at Eames' words. "So?" he said finally.
"Your man Cobb at least acknowledged that the field had some serious moral conundrums prior to the Fischer job. It didn't stop him from risking us all for his own personal gain, but at least he didn't pretend to take the moral high ground. Ariadne didn't question the ethics of the job even once, and that had been her first foray into dream share." Eames put all the folders on the desk into a single pile and placed it beside Arthur's laptop. "I don't think you see her the way everyone else does, Arthur. And I don't think the two of you have the same goals in mind."
Arthur's glower could be a fierce and terrible thing if he was truly angry, and he was swiftly approaching that point. He didn't understand why Eames was going out of his way to say these things about Ariadne. They weren't friends, and even as colleagues they occasionally were far too contentious for Arthur's liking. "And what would those be?" he snapped.
"She wants the next job. For her, there will only ever be the next job, the next group of people to meet and cozy up to. You're in this for the challenge, Arthur. If it stopped being interesting, you'd give it up in a heartbeat."
"So would you."
Eames smiled. "Of course. But the decadent lifestyle is certainly a perk." He drummed his fingers on the desk idly as the smile slid slowly from his face. "But you don't do things halfway, and she's not looking for anything long term. You're one of the best at what you do, and you know the major players. I don't want to see the field become populated by idiots when you leave after something goes wrong."
"Your concern is misplaced," Arthur said, voice tight. He was trying to control his temper; what right did Eames have to say anything about this? There was no reason to start attacking his relationship with Ariadne or painting her as some kind of mercenary. "I can handle my own life, Mr. Eames."
He backed away immediately, nodding. "Understood."
Though Eames didn't treat Ariadne with anything short of respect and never brought it up again for the duration of that job, the words wouldn't leave Arthur's mind.
The world's most resilient parasite was an idea, after all. It didn't require inception to plant it.
***
Ariadne didn't plan things out farther than the months it took to set up and complete jobs. When Arthur mentioned their one year anniversary coming up, she was startled. "Have we really been together that long?" she asked. "It doesn't feel like it's been more than a few months," she said with a smile, leaning in to kiss him. "I suppose time flies when you're having fun. So what do you want to do?"
"Oh, we can just lounge around naked all day," Arthur suggested, smiling widely enough that his eyes crinkled and there were dimples. She laughed and giggled her agreement, especially when he grasped hold of her and swung her around. She laughed, hands up over her face when he started kissing and tickling her.
She kissed him back and threw her arms around his shoulders. "So it's a plan, then. A nice break before we're off on the next adventure of a job."
Eames couldn't be right about her, Arthur decided. She was invested in her relationship with him. It wasn't a means to an end. It wasn't for the contacts he had or the people he knew, wasn't because she didn't have any other way to dream. She loved him as much as he loved her, even if neither said the words.
"I love you," he murmured as she kissed her way down his chest. It was the first time he had uttered the words aloud, and it seemed like the right time to say it.
"I know," she murmured before taking him into her mouth.
It never occurred to him that she didn't say the words back.
***
Elsa Sharpova was known as a ruthless extractor in certain circles. Arthur had worked with her once or twice before, and he had always behaved in a respectful manner. Part of her ruthlessness was that she obtained results no matter what the cost; she thought nothing of leaving a body count behind her if she had to. Her personal life was never the stuff of rumor. The last girl that thought to tattle about bedroom antics was later found in an alley with her throat slit from ear to ear and her intestines pulled out.
"I have a job that you could help me with, perhaps," she purred, smiling sweetly at Arthur and Ariadne. "It's fairly simple, as far as I'm concerned, but my usual point has cut and run from this one."
Arthur lofted an eyebrow at Elsa. "Why?" he asked, no judgment in his tone. "Andrei isn't exactly averse to dangerous situations."
"He won't leave his wife this close to her due date," Elsa said flatly. Arthur nodded, satisfied with the answer. She looked from Arthur to Ariadne. "I can even ignore my usual architect if she's as good as you say she is."
"She's better," Arthur replied, a hint of a smile on his lips.
"You're a pretty thing," Elsa said, running her fingers along Ariadne's arm. Her smile was predatory and full of desire. "I'm sure you can give me a good reason to work with you both, da?" she asked, leaning in.
Arthur watched Ariadne give Elsa a flirty smile rather than pull away. "Elsa..." he began in a warning tone.
She merely laughed. "But she's such a darling little morsel, Arthur. Don't be greedy."
Ariadne still wasn't disagreeing, and seemed to be flirting back as the evening went on. If she realized Arthur was unhappy with her behavior, she gave no sign. She was subtly implying she welcomed Elsa's advances. Finally unable to tolerate it any further, Arthur caught her arm and all but yanked her from the table. "A moment, Elsa," he said sharply. The extractor laughed and held up her hands in surrender. He knew she would back down if Ariadne protested, and it was bothering him that she wasn't. "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed at her when he got her to a quiet corner.
"What are you doing?" she countered, irritation in her voice. "I thought we were here to negotiate terms for a job."
"You are not on the menu!"
Ariadne sighed and looked at Arthur evenly. "All I did was smile at her and go along with what she said. It's not a big deal."
"She'll back off if you're not willing. It's not part of the deal."
"You mean she's serious with that?" At Arthur's nod, she grinned. "Great. I can work with that, use it against her."
"No. That's absolutely out of the question."
Ariadne rolled her eyes and seemed irritated with his response. "Look. I get her off, we get the job. Right? We make her happy, then she sets us up with the job and her people. We can negotiate with her for better terms."
Something shriveled in his chest at the cold and mercenary way she seemed to be reacting to Elsa's advances. He thought of the ring he had been willing to buy, the way Eames had politely tried to tell him the Ariadne wasn't who he thought she was. Arthur still didn't want to believe it, still wanted to believe that she wouldn't manipulate someone's emotions to get what she wanted out of them. He wanted to believe that she wouldn't manipulate him to get ahead, that she wasn't simply using him.
He wanted to believe in her, but this wasn't aligning well with that belief.
"What's wrong with you?" Ariadne asked, confused.
"That's off the table," Arthur insisted. "We're in a relationship, Ariadne. You don't go whoring yourself out for jobs."
She shot him a pitying look. "She knows plenty of people in the business, " Ariadne began with her usual earnest expression. "You can't afford to go pissing her off, then. It's just sex, Arthur. I can do a good job with it, if that's what you're afraid of."
Arthur only stared at her for a moment. "I can't believe what I'm hearing," he said in a low tone.
"I've fucked a woman before, Arthur. It's not a big deal," Ariadne insisted. "I don't know why you're so upset. You wanted this job, and I can help you get it."
"No job is worth our relationship, Ariadne," Arthur snapped.
"Relationship?" she echoed. "Arthur..."
"If you go to her, you're doing this without me."
"You're getting upset for no reason. I can do this, and we'll get the job and the contacts that she has." Her tone seemed to consist of disbelief, denial and pity all at once. Arthur's expression took on its old shuttered look as he felt his world shift on its axis. This couldn't be real. This wasn't happening. It wasn't supposed to be this way. Eames was not supposed to be right about her, even if he seemed to understand human motivation only too well. Arthur had wanted to simply burn the forger's words from his mind, but here was Ariadne all but telling him that she didn't value what they had as much as he did. Why did she think he would approve of this? She didn't seem to realize that her mercenary view was turning him off.
"What's more important to you?" he asked, voice hard and angry. "I don't need or want this job, Ariadne. You can walk away with me, or you can stay here alone. Make up your mind."
Ariadne rolled her eyes and headed back toward Elsa. She didn't back down when Arthur didn't accompany her, and started discussing aspects of the job with Elsa. Ariadne didn't look back to watch him leave.
***
When she returned to the hotel room she had been sharing with Arthur, all of his possessions were gone and the room looked as if he had never been there. She tried calling all of his contacts that she knew about, but none would speak with her except for Thierry. "Look, Ariadne. I liked you, so I'll let you know what's going on," he told her. There was a fair bit of exasperation in his tone, enough to give her pause.
Liked?
"Arthur's gone to ground," he said when she remained silent. "He doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, and especially not you."
"But..."
"Whatever it was that you did," Thierry interrupted, voice hard, "you fucked up big time. I don't know what it was and I don't care. There are different circles in dream share, and most of us stick together. It's the only way to evade the authorities and get into the really big jobs. You can't work in this field alone. If you really plan to get ahead in this field, you better pray to God that Arthur forgives you for whatever it is you've done."
"Thierry, I didn't do anything!" she said before he could hang up on her. "I was helping him get a job with Elsa!"
There was an almost pained pause on the other side of the line. "Ariadne, Arthur only takes the jobs he really wants to do. He's not hurting for money and his reputation is spotless. If you really think you didn't do anything, then there's nothing I can tell you."
"What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded.
"You hurt him," Thierry told her shortly. "You don't even know what you did and you're not even sorry. I don't think any of us will forgive you for that."
Ariadne was left holding a dead line in an empty hotel room, wondering what went wrong. It wasn't like Arthur to simply cut off communication. He had put up with far worse for a long time with Cobb, and whatever it was he thought she did had to pale in comparison to the shade of Mal hurting him repeatedly.
She dialed a few numbers, a nagging feeling deep in her gut. She was missing something, which wasn't like her. The only person willing to take her call was Eames, and he sounded much more subdued than he usually did when speaking with her. "So it finally fell apart," he said, tone bland as if he had expected this call sooner or later.
Frowning as she stared off at the wall of the room, Ariadne took a breath. "Arthur left."
"I suppose you should tell me what happened from the beginning," he said quietly.
The words tumbled out in disarray, and she got up to pace with agitated, jerky steps. That was usually the way Arthur gathered his thoughts together, and it did seem to help a little. Eames remained silent for the most part, occasionally making noises to encourage her to continue with her tale. Finally, Ariadne stood in front of the window, phone held in a white knuckled grip as she waited for Eames' judgment.
"You didn't hear what he did say," Eames said finally. "He saw what he wanted to see in you, and he's not one for words when action will do. But he did finally put his foot down and tell you what he was thinking, and you missed it."
Our relationship, he had said. Ariadne suddenly recalled the fury and pain in his eyes when he said the words, and she had simply brushed it off.
She blew out a breath. "Is it too late, then?" she asked, voice small and cowed. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, her other hand tightening into a fist. Her nails digging into her palm was a welcome pain at this point. Likely, she deserved far worse.
"It depends," Eames said quietly, his tone a fraction warmer. "Was it real or not?"
"I... I don't want it to end this way. I don't want him hurting like this."
"Do you love him?" Eames insisted.
Ariadne knew how important her next words were. She could say "Of course I do!" and expect everything to fall back into her lap. But it wasn't exactly the truth, and she was speaking with the one person that would know. If she had said this to Thierry, he would tell her where Arthur had gone to ground. Eames would shut her out and never speak to her again.
"I... It's not the same as what he feels for me," she said after a moment. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm even capable of that."
"I couldn't tell you that," Eames told her. He sounded almost as if he was leaning back in his seat a little, stretching. He couldn't hate her if he was that relaxed, Ariadne reasoned. "But I'm sure if you put that mind of yours to work, you'd realize where he would go when he's distressed. You know more about him than probably anyone else on the planet at this point, Ariadne."
"He doesn't want to see me," Ariadne murmured.
"His entire world just got turned inside out. Would you?" Eames pointed out.
"I'd want to do something about it."
"Yes, you would. He isn't that way, Ariadne. He's intensely private, very driven, and tends to throw himself body and soul into something he believes in. If something can't capture his interest, he will walk away." Eames paused. "He will likely try to disembowel me simply for saying something like this to you."
"So why are you?"
"Because if you're calling me to repair things with him, then you aren't who I thought you were, either."
The quiet words stung. "So who am I?"
"Brilliant but untempered. Thoughtless, ruthless and impulsive," Eames said flatly. "Some choice words could apply to me as well, I suppose. But that's neither here nor there. You broke him, Ariadne. It's up to you what to do next."
"Thank you, Eames."
"It remains to be seen if either of you will really thank me for this interference."
"You have good intentions."
He snorted. "So did you, hm? And we all know what the road to hell is paved with."
Ariadne got off the phone and leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to get her heartbeat to slow down. She could try to contact Arthur, beg his forgiveness and wait for his call. But he had his pride, and he wouldn't call her back.
She would have to track him down and do it in person. Maybe in time he could even forgive her for not realizing sooner what she had meant to him. All she had left were her good intentions, and she had to hope that they were good enough.
The End