Sweet Fire Of Mercy, 1/2. NC-17. Ariadne/Eames then A/A.
Title: Sweet Fire Of Mercy
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur, Ariadne/Eames
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Christopher Nolan and not to me. His toys are fun to play with!
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. For the inception_kink meme prompt in round 17: Eames gets Ariadne pregnant but wants nothing to do with the baby. There's no way Ariadne would consider abortion, but her family would be horrified if she had a baby without being married. So Arthur steps in, offering to play the part of Ariadne's husband for when she visits her family. Titles and epigraph from Jackson Waters' "Come Undone."
Summary: See the prompt? I tweaked it a bit, but I essentially followed the directions. :)
There are scars that I've been hiding
There are ghosts that I do not claim
There are closets I do not care to open
They open all the same.
- "Come Undone" by Jackson Waters
One - Too Far Down To Speak
Ariadne had designed the third level of the Fischer job with Eames in mind more than anything else. Fischer's fortress hospital could have been anywhere, but Eames had made an offhand comment about liking to ski but hating the weather. The two of them had gotten along very well during the planning stages, and he had that same flirtatious manner with her that he sometimes had with Arthur. While Arthur's gaze sometimes lingered over her or his touch at her wrist while taking out the PASIV leads was a shade too long, he never did or said anything that was outside the realm of professionalism. Eames, on the other hand, made it quite clear that he found her attractive and appreciated her quick thinking. The two of them discussed aspects of the inception that had to be carried into the architecture of each level, but her design for his level was a surprise. The first practice session had him gazing at everything in wonder.
"It's not even cold, really."
"It will be for the actual job," Ariadne told him with a small smile. "But for right now, I still control the temperature. You can ski to your heart's content."
"What if I want to do more than ski, darling?" he had teased.
Ariadne merely grinned at the suggestive leer he had playfully applied to his lips. She knew it was the kind of invitation that could be laughed off or backed away from gracefully.
Instead, she stepped forward and put her hands on his chest. "Why don't you show me what you had in mind?"
Sex on snow that wasn't cold and didn't melt was interesting. It was rather like a very soft feather bed, and Ariadne got a chance to see for herself just how lush those lips were and how talented that tongue of his was. She didn't have to worry about keeping quiet or being embarrassed about shouting too loudly when she came. Eames enjoyed the extra drops into dreaming, and used the time to creatively apply lips and teeth and tongue and hands to every inch of exposed skin. Even though it was a dream and he didn't necessarily have to worry about enough foreplay, he still enjoyed licking endlessly at her, swirling his tongue around her clit until she arched and nearly screamed at the sensation.
If he was a little smug after these sessions and extra sarcastic toward Arthur, the rest of the team didn't notice. The two had an adversarial relationship anyway.
Eames and Ariadne didn't have a formal relationship per se; by unspoken agreement the two of them kept everything purely physical and didn't discuss any emotional attachment they might have had for each other. Eames told her the first name he was currently using, some details about himself that may or may not have been true, and the kind of things he enjoyed doing. Ariadne told him about growing up, her architecture program and what drew her to dream share. Perhaps they were simply fooling themselves about the kind of relationship they had during the planning stages, but it seemed to work.
After the Fischer job, Eames waited all of two weeks to track her down at her tiny garret of an apartment in Paris. "You're finishing your degree, then?" he had asked her. Somehow Ariadne hadn't been surprised to find him sitting at her kitchen counter with a cup of tea in hand. She had simply nodded and deposited her bag of groceries next to him. "And then afterward? What are your plans for that?"
"Nothing yet. I haven't really looked for placement at a design firm. I really should if I plan to stay in legitimate architecture."
Eames had smiled at her then, slow and sensual, as if he knew a delicious secret. "Do you?"
"Are you offering me a job?"
"I might be."
"Is it anything like the last one?"
"Easier," he replied, shrugging. "No need to cut and run if it gets too dangerous, no threat of limbo. One level, not terribly complicated. It might actually be boring, darling."
"What's the payout?" she asked as she put groceries away.
"Only five figures."
Ariadne lofted an eyebrow at him. "Why do you say only?"
"Well, your cut would be only half of mine, since you wouldn't be out in the field. But I'm sure sixty thousand dollars is still fairly good for a start."
She managed not to choke in surprise, but simply nodded. "Yes, that would be."
Though her voice was even, Eames gave her a knowing smile. "In that case, let's start talking about this job, hm?"
It had all taken off from there. Over the next several months, Ariadne and Eames worked together on three more jobs. He somehow managed to find excuses to stay at her apartment for the duration of each job as well as in between them. They never actually labeled what they were, but every time they came together it was electric and dangerous and made Ariadne's toes curl inside her boots in exhilaration. Eames tasted like sin and his hands roaming across her flesh definitely were.
Eames was playful in bed, trying different positions or toys or flavored lubes to get a laugh out of her. "Sex is supposed to be fun," he told her when she teased him about the strawberry flavored lube. "If this tastes terrible, I'll get some other flavor. But since you like strawberries..."
"Well, licking the whipped cream off your stomach was fun..." she began, waving the bottle in front of him. "We'll have to see about this one."
Ariadne didn't particularly like that one, though it warmed up quickly enough when she used it to tease Eames and stroke his prostate. Kneeling on one side of him, Ariadne leaned in to brush her nipples across his back as she slowly pumped her fingers in and out of him. Eames grasped her leg, sliding his fingers across the back of her knee. "Not fair," he managed to say between moans. "You don't let me do this to you."
"Maybe you just weren't convincing enough," she teased, giving her fingers a little twist. Eames bucked his hips and his hand tightened on her calf. "I could always stop..."
"Don't you dare," he growled, reaching behind him at an awkward angle to trace the back of her thigh. She shimmied back and away from his touch, laughing at his growls of frustration. "That's bloody cheating."
"Aren't you the one that said to do my worst?"
He moved fast then, shifting away from her and then pinning her down to the bed. He kissed her hard, tongue pushing into her laughing mouth. "I want to fuck you so hard," Eames growled against her mouth, one hand tangled in her hair.
Ariadne reached between them and thumbed his weeping cock. "Stop talking and start doing," she ordered, using her other hand to scratch at the arms holding him up.
Eames didn't need much more convincing than that. He was hard and thick inside her, moving as fast as she liked. This part was perfect, was everything she wanted. That they fit in other ways was a bonus. The same playfulness in the bedroom sometimes extended to the workplace, and they made a good team on jobs.
As far as she was concerned, there was no need to label what they had. It worked better than she had hoped it would.
***
Ariadne suppressed a yawn and tried to keep focused during the meeting. Their subject was a wealthy young man, the heir to a multimillion dollar corporation. He had a decidedly kinky side, playing around in fetish clubs and participating in lunches and meet ups for random sex romps as the masochistic submissive. That would make it easy for them to isolate him enough for extracting the account numbers and passcodes to tap into his inheritance. Normally Ariadne would listen closely during the planning stages so that she could get a better feel for the place she would have to build in the dreams.
Today, even an espresso didn't have enough caffeine to keep her awake. She looked down at her notebook and could barely even read what she had written. The writing was loopy and scrawled, in other places the sentence formations were disjointed and nonsensical.
Eames smirked at her when their point man wasn't looking. He noticed everything, and made faces at her. It helped keep her awake, though Ariadne tried to tell herself it was unprofessional of her. Still, sketching Eames making those faces at her was fun and allowed her to appear somewhat productive at the same time.
"Usually you're much more alert, darling. I didn't think I tired you out that much last night," Eames remarked after the team broke for the day. He enjoyed the low flush in her cheeks at the reminder, and smiled at her response.
"I didn't think so either," Ariadne replied, putting her hand on his arm. "But maybe you can see how you do tonight?"
He laughed and leaned down to kiss her. "Challenge accepted," mirroring her teasing tone.
***
The exhaustion didn't go away. If anything, it seemed to grow worse, a bone deep fatigue that seemed to make her even more sensitive to Eames' touch than before. His mouth over her breasts left her gasping, and he delighted in her response. A gentle swipe of his tongue over her clit was enough to leave her reeling, and it took so much less work to get her to come.
Of course, now she fell asleep almost immediately, arms locked around Eames.
"Are you sure you aren't coming down with something?" he remarked one afternoon. He found her yawning that afternoon, sketches and models all around her in the workspace. Eames was bringing her yet another cup of coffee and a pastry; she had been almost nauseous at the thought of food that morning and hadn't eaten anything more than a single slice of toast. "You're looking rather peaky, Ariadne."
"Tired and not feeling quite right," she agreed, taking the coffee. After gulping about half of it down she accepted the pastry. "Thanks."
"Definitely sounds like you're coming down with something," he mentioned in concern. He touched her forehead and gave her a fond smile at her pointed look. "Everyone does that, so I thought I'd add to the concerned experience." Eames tucked her hair behind her ear. "Get home early and sleep in for a bit. I can take a vacation from ravishing you." He dropped a kiss onto her forehead and picked up his jacket. "I'm off to follow Reiter's doctor for the second level anyway, so don't wait up for me. I've no idea how long it will take tonight, since the man tends to run late on all his appointments."
Ariadne snorted in amusement. "You haven't lived until you've waited over three hours for a GYN appointment you didn't even want to make in the first place."
"Can't say I'm likely to do that anytime soon, darling," Eames replied in a playful tone as he shrugged on his jacket. "See you later."
As Eames headed out of the door, Ariadne paused. With the mention of doctors and a GYN...
She frowned deeply as her eyes fell onto the calendar. Though she had been taking her birth control pills religiously, it only occurred to her at that very moment that she hadn't gotten her period in two months.
Shit.
Well, it could be stress. She'd skipped periods before as a teenager when meeting deadlines for work and under unbelievable stress. It didn't necessarily mean anything more than that.
But they were relying on her pill packs, since Ariadne liked the feel of skin against skin and hated having to pause and roll on a condom. Eames had been more than happy to go along with her wishes.
It didn't necessarily mean anything, but there was a feeling of dread in the pit of Ariadne's stomach. Her instincts were screaming at her now, and she trusted her instincts.
She was buying home pregnancy tests on the way to the hotel suite she and Eames were calling home for the duration of this job. Just in case.
***
Two lines.
Her vision blurred, though she didn't realize she was even crying. This had to be a mistake, even though the second line had appeared immediately. Perhaps she was simply dreaming?
She waited a few minutes and then repeated the test with the other stick in the pack.
Two lines. Pregnant.
What was she going to do?
***
"There's a lovely little restaurant that Grenier was telling me about. He heard about it from Xiou, and she knows her restaurants, regardless of cuisine," Eames said, reaching for his phone. "He texted me the address, if you'd like to try it out for dinner tomorrow."
Her stomach had been in knots all day, and Eames had been attentive enough to her that Ariadne felt a thin thread of hope that everything was going to be okay. "I've been tired a lot lately," she began, not sure how to tell him the news without simply blurting it out.
"Well, yes. I've been telling you that you need a little down time," Eames replied. "I know that idiot point man was trying to push you at the last few meetings, but it isn't something that you need to pull all-nighters for. The Reiter job is almost done." He ran his hand down along her arm in a tender gesture. "You can take a break, darling. It won't slow the team down a jot."
Ariadne shook her head. "That's not it..."
"Or is that a hint that I've not been attentive enough?" he asked, moving his hand to trace the rise of her breast. "Considering the past few weeks, I rather thought we've been very compatible in that arena," Eames told her with a smirk.
She took a deep breath. "I've been tired, and my period was late," Ariadne told him abruptly. He stilled, looking at her with a poleaxed expression. "I thought it was just stress. But then I took a pregnancy test..."
He was like carved marble next to her, his blue eyes searching her face. "Ariadne," he began.
"I'm pregnant," Ariadne blurted, anxiety in her features.
Eames fixed her with a stare that immediately made her feel uncomfortable. "It's all right, Ariadne," he said after a moment. "We'll find a good clinic."
Ariadne relaxed slightly. "Oh," she began, a little relieved. "I-"
"There's bound to be recovery time," he continued earnestly. He sat down and took one of her clammy hands in his. "I would imagine there would have to be, depending on what they do, but this far along it's more likely to be surgery than hormonal."
"What?" she breathed, shock setting in. This wasn't happening.
"The doctors will be able to tell us in detail," Eames told her, linking his fingers through hers. He dropped a kiss onto her temple, misinterpreting her shock as relief. "A little time off to recover, then you'll be back at work in no time. We can put all of this behind us."
"All of what?" she asked in a strangled tone of voice.
Eames frowned at her. "The inconvenience, of course. You're nearly done with the second level layout on the Reiter job..." His voice trailed off at her murderous look. "You weren't talking about that, were you?" he asked, voice dropping into a neutral tone.
"Our child is an inconvenience?" Ariadne asked incredulously, voice spiraling up in disbelief. She hastily withdrew her hand from his and jumped to her feet.
"You can't honestly tell me you're considering keeping it," Eames responded flatly. "With our lifestyle? The somnacin and sedatives? Being on the run and changing names as necessary? It would never work with you pregnant and we can't cart around an infant." He started looking at her almost defensively when she gaped at him in shock. "What? Why are you looking at me that way? Infants need all sorts of things, darling. There's the trappings they need on a day to day basis, not to mention regular medical care and supplies. You can't simply grab the child and run for cover if a job doesn't go very well, since they constantly need things."
Eames reached out and grasped her hands gently in his when she couldn't respond to his words with anything but an incredulous stare. "You have to be practical. In our line of work, you can't simply assume that the opposition will leave the child alone. It'll be a weakness, a pawn used to harm, threaten or manipulate you." He shook his head. "You can't possibly think about living this life and keeping it. I'm being completely honest, Ariadne. You won't be safe and neither will the child. You won't be doing it any favors."
It made sense in a logical sort of way, but Ariadne's gut clenched. She looked down at their hands and felt a chill roll down her spine. At that very moment their child was inside of her, and it might grow up to have her hands. Or his. Or some mixture of the two.
Ariadne looked back up at him. "Maybe it's time to step back. Take a break."
"You'd hate it."
"Perhaps this is God's way of telling me to slow down."
Eames snorted and pulled back. "God," he said derisively. "God has nothing to do with this. It's a faulty birth control pack, Ariadne. You know better than to believe in that shite. It's for lesser minds and marks."
"I grew up with it," she said slowly, feeling herself withdraw further from him. Funny how just days before she thought her life was perfect. Funny how everything was falling apart so spectacularly drastically and it was all she could do to keep from screaming.
So funny, yet she forgot to laugh.
"Yes, and you learned to overcome that superstitious rot," Eames replied. He pulled her closer and kissed the back of her hand. "Look, Ariadne. I'll find the name of a reputable clinic and we'll go together. You won't be in this alone."
"I'm not getting rid of it."
Her voice sounded tinny and far away to her own ears. This had to be shock setting in. She could barely feel her fingers and toes.
Eames' expression hardened. "Ariadne. Be reasonable. I already told you it's a horrid idea."
"I can't get rid of it like it's an inconvenience. It's a child. Our child."
"I don't want it."
She took in his thunderous expression and could see the edge of fear and helplessness behind his anger. But he'd already made up his mind; she could see it in the set of his jaw and the way he carried his shoulders. Once he made decisions, he rarely backed down from them. Normally, it helped them get the job done. Normally, it was an admirable trait.
Right now, she wanted to cry.
"I'll do this alone if I have to."
Eames rolled to his feet, expression stony. It was a mask settling into place, and Ariadne hadn't seen one of those in a very long time. It made her feel that much more insecure and alone, and she could feel her heart shattering.
"Then you're doing it alone." His tone brooked no argument. "I won't have anything to do with it, Ariadne." For the first time since she had met him, she felt like she was looking into the eyes of a stranger. "I do wish you luck, but you're doing it all without me."
All of his belongings were gone from the hotel suite when she woke in the morning.
***
Arthur was as steady as ever, which she appreciated. "I don't know what I'm going to do," Ariadne whispered. "I can't... It's a sin. I'm Catholic!" she wailed as panic set in. To her horror, she burst into tears. "I mean, I know I'm lapsed, I even used contraception, for God's sake, I've broken I don't even know how many laws, but I can't murder in cold blood just because it's inconvenient..."
Arthur silently passed her a glass of water. "Take a sip, Ariadne," he told her evenly. "You're babbling and you're making yourself even more upset."
"God, how could he say that? And leave? You don't understand, Arthur. In the middle of the night as I slept. And telling me that our child is inconvenient! I know that, I mean, I know he has a point if you think about it from a certain point of view, but it's a child. An innocent. I was innocent once, we all were. And even him, I'm sure he was even an innocent child once." She brought her hands to her mouth as more tears came to her eyes. She wiped them away angrily, upset with herself for being this upset. "What am I going to do, Arthur? What will I tell my parents? Bad enough I couldn't really tell them about Eames in the first place. They know I'm hiding something, and it's only so long I can keep up a façade and hide things from them." She wiped at her eyes again. "I can't even think..."
"You're upset," he said softly, taking her hands down and away from her mouth. "You're entitled to be," he continued in that same even voice. It was the same voice he had always used when she was rattled by something, starting with her very first drop into dreaming, when Mal had stabbed her. You're okay, he had said, over and over in a calm voice. She hadn't appreciated it at the time, but that was soothing in its own way. Arthur was more like a rock in the midst of her unquiet storms.
"I thought he'd help me," Ariadne told him in a tiny voice, feeling stupid. "I didn't think he'd run away. I didn't think he'd leave me."
Arthur pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips against her temple. It was a surprise, but felt nice. Eames should have done this, she realized. He should have pulled her close and made her feel safe, and he should have told her it would all be okay.
"I'll help you," Arthur said into her hair. "Whatever you need, I'll do it."
"I can't ask that of you…" she protested.
"You're not asking. I'm volunteering," Arthur corrected. He pulled back to look her in the eye. "And as for your parents... I'm sure they would have no objections to your having a baby if you were married."
"Yes, but..."
"So we'll be married." Arthur gave her a rueful smile when she gaped at him. "Is it that horrible to contemplate being married to me?"
"N-no," she stammered hastily. "But that's a lot to ask of you. It's such an imposition..."
Arthur gently touched her chin. It was more like a caress, and her eyes widened as she suddenly realized what his expression truly meant. "No, it isn't."
"You never said anything," she whispered, feeling like a complete imbecile. She'd managed to realize that there was something not quite right about Cobb within a week or two of her training, could tell when Arthur was being sarcastic even if his wit was drier than the Sahara, how to get into Eames' pants during the Fischer job and see beneath his masks. As much as Arthur had kissed her on the second level of the Fischer job, he had made no other overtures and had always kept things strictly professional. Eames had been delighted by her attentions and after a decent period of time had met up with her in Paris to continue their liaison.
And now mere months later, her world was turned upside down and inside out. Again.
His touch was light, and there was the barest hint of a smile in his lips. "You were looking elsewhere," he said quietly. "I didn't want to ruin that for you."
"Even at your own expense?"
"Sometimes it's more important for someone else to be happy," Arthur said simply. She thought of the way he shadowed Cobb for two years, of how diligent he was when he worked and how thorough he was with his research. Arthur was a man used to suppressing his own desires, and it suddenly made Ariadne ashamed. She felt small and stupid, a selfish child that had given in to every whim she had.
"I don't deserve you," she said in a shaky voice.
Arthur leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly. "Yes, you do. Even if it's only friendship that you want."
Ariadne couldn't help her eyes filling with tears. "Now I wish I loved you first."
His sad smile mirrored her own as he stroked her cheek. "You can't force something like that, Ariadne. It's there or it isn't."
"Do you think this is God's way of making me slow down?" she asked in a tremulous voice. If he mocked her religion the way Eames did...
But his lips quirked into that same slight amused smile. "Maybe. God works in mysterious ways, doesn't He? We never figure out what the plan is until it's done and we can look back over what the pattern is. Sometimes we never figure it out, even then. You can't presume to know everything, Ariadne. But that's okay. There's time enough to figure it all out."
It was such a different response than Eames' had been, and not what she would have expected from him at all. Truth be told, she would have expected their responses from the other man, and it suddenly felt humbling how little she actually knew them.
"I don't even know you well enough to be married," Ariadne said, suppressing the urge to giggle. She had the feeling that once she started, she wouldn't stop.
Arthur smiled, a genuine one that was miles wider than the ones she had seen on his face before, with the barest hint of a dimple. "There's time enough for that, too. First things first, get used to the idea that you're pregnant, that you're going to be somebody's mother. There's going to be prenatal checkups and all of that, so you'll want to settle down somewhere if not here."
"Is it silly if I say I want to go home?" she asked tremulously. "But then," she continued before Arthur could answer her, "I don't even know where home is. Is it Boston where my parents are, or Paris? I've lived there for so long, and the past few months in Marrakech..."
He touched her arm gently and her lips quieted. "The first thing that comes to mind."
"Boston," she whispered. "Near my Mom." She cast her eyes down, almost ashamed of herself. She had been so full of swagger and bravado when she left Boston for Paris, full of her own importance and talent. Getting roped into dream share had only bolstered that pride, as all the people she had worked with treated her skill with reverence. Now she was in trouble and wanted to retreat to Boston for her mother to take care of her. Some adult she made.
Arthur's gentle strokes on her arm continued. "Well, that makes sense. She knows more about pregnancy, after all. I can get you books if you like, but with something like pregnancy, I'm sure you'd want to talk with someone you trust about what it's like first hand."
Ariadne looked up with a shy smile. "So it's not a stupid idea?"
"No, it's not," he answered gravely. "I'll get our paperwork in order." He couldn't help but smirk at her startled expression. "Eames isn't the only one able to get papers. He does them himself, but it's all the same in the end." He leaned forward and gave her a soft, chaste kiss on the forehead. "I'll get it started, and then we'll coordinate stories to tell your family."
"I can't even begin to thank you," she began with a tremulous voice.
Arthur stood and shrugged. "I don't mind, Ariadne." It made her feel inherently sad to hear that, because she didn't love him the same way that he loved her. "I'll take care of you. I promise."
"I believe you." She gave him a watery smile. "I've always trusted you."
"Then trust me when I say that this will all work out in the end. I'll make sure of it."
***
Arthur didn't give Eames a chance to explain. He swung at the forger's jaw, connecting. His punch tended to have a lot more weight behind it than people suspected; he had physical combat skills and wasn't averse to fighting dirty. He had known he would simply walk up to Eames and start a fight, so he had a bar of metal curled inside of his fist to add a little more momentum and force to his swing. Surprised by the punch, Eames' head rocked back and he hit the wall. He landed in a graceless heap since he hadn't been able to prepare for taking the punch, and he glared up at Arthur. "The fuck?"
"She comes to you expecting help or at least a discussion and you up and leave in the middle of the night while she's sleeping," Arthur snarled, voice laced heavily with disdain. Eames blinked at him, nonplused. Arthur had never shown this much emotion before, though Eames had never seen him outside of a job. "That's low, even for you."
"Now see here, Arthur. It's got nothing to do with you." He pushed himself to his feet and glared at the point man. "Ariadne is a grown woman and can make her own decisions. There were no promises made when it started, and we both had no expectations of a serious relationship."
"A baby changes things."
"And I told her she shouldn't have it," Eames said bluntly, massaging his jaw. "Let's face it, Arthur. She may still be naïve enough to have ridiculous notions about raising a family and still working in dream share. But you and I both know it's impossible to do. There's no way she can be safe."
"So you cut and run instead of staying and help it become safe." The words you selfish piece of shit went without saying, implicit in Arthur's tone.
"Are you on something, Arthur?" Eames asked. His eyes searched Arthur's tense face for a moment, and it all seemed to crystallize. "Oh bloody hell..."
Arthur hit him again, and Eames didn't have much time to prepare. It was enough so that he didn't hit the wall or fall to the floor, but his head snapped back from the force of the blow. "How could you be so fucking irresponsible?" Arthur snarled, lips pulled back in a grimace.
"Irresponsible? It was her bloody medication that failed," Eames growled, touching his lip. It was already swelling, but not split. "I told her the way of things, that's all."
"It doesn't have to be that way. Dom and Mal had children."
"And look at where it got them," Eames snapped. "But then, I suppose you'd throw yourself under the bus if you're in love with her."
Arthur didn't bother to deny it or throw another punch; he could tell by Eames' shifted stance that he was prepared to take another blow, so it likely meant he'd return the favor. "She's keeping it, Eames. She won't abort or give it up."
"Then she's a damn fool and won't work in the business again. Her talent will be wasted."
By the tone Eames was using, it was clear that he truly believed what he was saying. He had never actually promised anything; Ariadne had been fairly clear on that point. Their relationship had simply happened without them planning anything, coasting from moment to moment. Arthur was also fully aware of Eames' knack for self-preservation. It wasn't inherently malicious, and he never went out of his way to screw someone over, but he didn't necessarily help others if he thought he would suffer for it.
There would be no changing his mind, just as there was no changing Ariadne's mind. They were both far too strong willed for that.
"Then we're done here," Arthur said in an icy tone. The effect was wasted on Eames, who simply nodded. They would likely have to work together in the future; Eames was still the best forger in the business, and Arthur was the best point man. Difficult jobs would require their expertise. He didn't have to like someone to work with them, and Eames was at least a professional beneath the snarky and irreverent behavior.
If only his personal life had the same outcome.
Arthur walked away without a backward glance, heart clenched painfully in his chest. He hadn't wanted to really believe that Eames would give up on a child so easily. He wanted to believe that it had simply been shock that made him react badly. Arthur knew that if Eames had stepped up to acknowledge the child, he would have stepped aside. Children turned out the best if there were two parents that loved them, after all.
He didn't return to his own hotel suite right away. Ariadne was there, upset at being left so abruptly and having her future shift radically beneath her feet. Arthur would help, and she was grateful for that. They had always been friends. She just hadn't considered the possibility that there could be more, which had always been Arthur's secret pain.
It didn't even matter to him that she was pregnant with Eames' child, especially now. The forger had adamantly given up any claim to it, and wanted nothing to do with it. If Arthur was brutally honest with himself, he was glad about that. As much as he would have gracefully let Eames care for Ariadne and the baby if he had expressed interest, a selfish part of Arthur was glad that Eames hadn't. Arthur could then take care of Ariadne, could be in her vicinity and not feel awkward or like a creeper for hanging on her every word.
It was sad and pathetic, but somehow he couldn't care. She was in pain and she needed him, and that was all he allowed himself to focus on. Arthur was very good at compartmentalizing his feelings and thoughts. That and organizing disparate data into a coherent whole were some of the things that he did best.
Arthur found himself near a park, and he slowed down to really take in his surroundings. It was late but not too late, so there were still families about. They were packing it in, and he found his eyes lingering on one family in particular. Apparently they had been lounging for a while in the park, as they had a picnic basket, various toys and were currently folding up a blanket. The parents were dark haired, their child had dirty blond hair. Arthur couldn't tell immediately if the child was a boy or girl, but eventually he could see it was a little boy that was perhaps three years old. "Mommy! Daddy!" he shouted as he ran in circles with a toy car on a string. "Watch me! Watch me!"
They paused in their cleanup to do just that, and Arthur was suddenly struck by how young they looked. That could be us in a few years, he thought suddenly. As quickly as that thought came, he also knew that Ariadne didn't love him, and that the charade would only last a few months. It probably wouldn't even last long enough for the baby to be born, which suddenly made him suck in a pained breath. It was enough to make him sit down on a bench. Oh, he had understood that the potential of the thing wouldn't necessarily be the same as going through with his suggestion, but seeing it in front of him made it seem very real all of a sudden. He would be pretending to be married to Ariadne for her parents' sake, and he would be taking responsibility for Eames' child. Past that, there were no guarantees in this ridiculous plan.
If that was all he could have of Ariadne, he would take it. The charade wouldn't last very long, but at least he would have some time with her, and that would be better than nothing.
***
***
On To Chapter Two - Warm Me Like The Sun
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur, Ariadne/Eames
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Christopher Nolan and not to me. His toys are fun to play with!
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. For the inception_kink meme prompt in round 17: Eames gets Ariadne pregnant but wants nothing to do with the baby. There's no way Ariadne would consider abortion, but her family would be horrified if she had a baby without being married. So Arthur steps in, offering to play the part of Ariadne's husband for when she visits her family. Titles and epigraph from Jackson Waters' "Come Undone."
Summary: See the prompt? I tweaked it a bit, but I essentially followed the directions. :)
There are scars that I've been hiding
There are ghosts that I do not claim
There are closets I do not care to open
They open all the same.
- "Come Undone" by Jackson Waters
One - Too Far Down To Speak
Ariadne had designed the third level of the Fischer job with Eames in mind more than anything else. Fischer's fortress hospital could have been anywhere, but Eames had made an offhand comment about liking to ski but hating the weather. The two of them had gotten along very well during the planning stages, and he had that same flirtatious manner with her that he sometimes had with Arthur. While Arthur's gaze sometimes lingered over her or his touch at her wrist while taking out the PASIV leads was a shade too long, he never did or said anything that was outside the realm of professionalism. Eames, on the other hand, made it quite clear that he found her attractive and appreciated her quick thinking. The two of them discussed aspects of the inception that had to be carried into the architecture of each level, but her design for his level was a surprise. The first practice session had him gazing at everything in wonder.
"It's not even cold, really."
"It will be for the actual job," Ariadne told him with a small smile. "But for right now, I still control the temperature. You can ski to your heart's content."
"What if I want to do more than ski, darling?" he had teased.
Ariadne merely grinned at the suggestive leer he had playfully applied to his lips. She knew it was the kind of invitation that could be laughed off or backed away from gracefully.
Instead, she stepped forward and put her hands on his chest. "Why don't you show me what you had in mind?"
Sex on snow that wasn't cold and didn't melt was interesting. It was rather like a very soft feather bed, and Ariadne got a chance to see for herself just how lush those lips were and how talented that tongue of his was. She didn't have to worry about keeping quiet or being embarrassed about shouting too loudly when she came. Eames enjoyed the extra drops into dreaming, and used the time to creatively apply lips and teeth and tongue and hands to every inch of exposed skin. Even though it was a dream and he didn't necessarily have to worry about enough foreplay, he still enjoyed licking endlessly at her, swirling his tongue around her clit until she arched and nearly screamed at the sensation.
If he was a little smug after these sessions and extra sarcastic toward Arthur, the rest of the team didn't notice. The two had an adversarial relationship anyway.
Eames and Ariadne didn't have a formal relationship per se; by unspoken agreement the two of them kept everything purely physical and didn't discuss any emotional attachment they might have had for each other. Eames told her the first name he was currently using, some details about himself that may or may not have been true, and the kind of things he enjoyed doing. Ariadne told him about growing up, her architecture program and what drew her to dream share. Perhaps they were simply fooling themselves about the kind of relationship they had during the planning stages, but it seemed to work.
After the Fischer job, Eames waited all of two weeks to track her down at her tiny garret of an apartment in Paris. "You're finishing your degree, then?" he had asked her. Somehow Ariadne hadn't been surprised to find him sitting at her kitchen counter with a cup of tea in hand. She had simply nodded and deposited her bag of groceries next to him. "And then afterward? What are your plans for that?"
"Nothing yet. I haven't really looked for placement at a design firm. I really should if I plan to stay in legitimate architecture."
Eames had smiled at her then, slow and sensual, as if he knew a delicious secret. "Do you?"
"Are you offering me a job?"
"I might be."
"Is it anything like the last one?"
"Easier," he replied, shrugging. "No need to cut and run if it gets too dangerous, no threat of limbo. One level, not terribly complicated. It might actually be boring, darling."
"What's the payout?" she asked as she put groceries away.
"Only five figures."
Ariadne lofted an eyebrow at him. "Why do you say only?"
"Well, your cut would be only half of mine, since you wouldn't be out in the field. But I'm sure sixty thousand dollars is still fairly good for a start."
She managed not to choke in surprise, but simply nodded. "Yes, that would be."
Though her voice was even, Eames gave her a knowing smile. "In that case, let's start talking about this job, hm?"
It had all taken off from there. Over the next several months, Ariadne and Eames worked together on three more jobs. He somehow managed to find excuses to stay at her apartment for the duration of each job as well as in between them. They never actually labeled what they were, but every time they came together it was electric and dangerous and made Ariadne's toes curl inside her boots in exhilaration. Eames tasted like sin and his hands roaming across her flesh definitely were.
Eames was playful in bed, trying different positions or toys or flavored lubes to get a laugh out of her. "Sex is supposed to be fun," he told her when she teased him about the strawberry flavored lube. "If this tastes terrible, I'll get some other flavor. But since you like strawberries..."
"Well, licking the whipped cream off your stomach was fun..." she began, waving the bottle in front of him. "We'll have to see about this one."
Ariadne didn't particularly like that one, though it warmed up quickly enough when she used it to tease Eames and stroke his prostate. Kneeling on one side of him, Ariadne leaned in to brush her nipples across his back as she slowly pumped her fingers in and out of him. Eames grasped her leg, sliding his fingers across the back of her knee. "Not fair," he managed to say between moans. "You don't let me do this to you."
"Maybe you just weren't convincing enough," she teased, giving her fingers a little twist. Eames bucked his hips and his hand tightened on her calf. "I could always stop..."
"Don't you dare," he growled, reaching behind him at an awkward angle to trace the back of her thigh. She shimmied back and away from his touch, laughing at his growls of frustration. "That's bloody cheating."
"Aren't you the one that said to do my worst?"
He moved fast then, shifting away from her and then pinning her down to the bed. He kissed her hard, tongue pushing into her laughing mouth. "I want to fuck you so hard," Eames growled against her mouth, one hand tangled in her hair.
Ariadne reached between them and thumbed his weeping cock. "Stop talking and start doing," she ordered, using her other hand to scratch at the arms holding him up.
Eames didn't need much more convincing than that. He was hard and thick inside her, moving as fast as she liked. This part was perfect, was everything she wanted. That they fit in other ways was a bonus. The same playfulness in the bedroom sometimes extended to the workplace, and they made a good team on jobs.
As far as she was concerned, there was no need to label what they had. It worked better than she had hoped it would.
***
Ariadne suppressed a yawn and tried to keep focused during the meeting. Their subject was a wealthy young man, the heir to a multimillion dollar corporation. He had a decidedly kinky side, playing around in fetish clubs and participating in lunches and meet ups for random sex romps as the masochistic submissive. That would make it easy for them to isolate him enough for extracting the account numbers and passcodes to tap into his inheritance. Normally Ariadne would listen closely during the planning stages so that she could get a better feel for the place she would have to build in the dreams.
Today, even an espresso didn't have enough caffeine to keep her awake. She looked down at her notebook and could barely even read what she had written. The writing was loopy and scrawled, in other places the sentence formations were disjointed and nonsensical.
Eames smirked at her when their point man wasn't looking. He noticed everything, and made faces at her. It helped keep her awake, though Ariadne tried to tell herself it was unprofessional of her. Still, sketching Eames making those faces at her was fun and allowed her to appear somewhat productive at the same time.
"Usually you're much more alert, darling. I didn't think I tired you out that much last night," Eames remarked after the team broke for the day. He enjoyed the low flush in her cheeks at the reminder, and smiled at her response.
"I didn't think so either," Ariadne replied, putting her hand on his arm. "But maybe you can see how you do tonight?"
He laughed and leaned down to kiss her. "Challenge accepted," mirroring her teasing tone.
***
The exhaustion didn't go away. If anything, it seemed to grow worse, a bone deep fatigue that seemed to make her even more sensitive to Eames' touch than before. His mouth over her breasts left her gasping, and he delighted in her response. A gentle swipe of his tongue over her clit was enough to leave her reeling, and it took so much less work to get her to come.
Of course, now she fell asleep almost immediately, arms locked around Eames.
"Are you sure you aren't coming down with something?" he remarked one afternoon. He found her yawning that afternoon, sketches and models all around her in the workspace. Eames was bringing her yet another cup of coffee and a pastry; she had been almost nauseous at the thought of food that morning and hadn't eaten anything more than a single slice of toast. "You're looking rather peaky, Ariadne."
"Tired and not feeling quite right," she agreed, taking the coffee. After gulping about half of it down she accepted the pastry. "Thanks."
"Definitely sounds like you're coming down with something," he mentioned in concern. He touched her forehead and gave her a fond smile at her pointed look. "Everyone does that, so I thought I'd add to the concerned experience." Eames tucked her hair behind her ear. "Get home early and sleep in for a bit. I can take a vacation from ravishing you." He dropped a kiss onto her forehead and picked up his jacket. "I'm off to follow Reiter's doctor for the second level anyway, so don't wait up for me. I've no idea how long it will take tonight, since the man tends to run late on all his appointments."
Ariadne snorted in amusement. "You haven't lived until you've waited over three hours for a GYN appointment you didn't even want to make in the first place."
"Can't say I'm likely to do that anytime soon, darling," Eames replied in a playful tone as he shrugged on his jacket. "See you later."
As Eames headed out of the door, Ariadne paused. With the mention of doctors and a GYN...
She frowned deeply as her eyes fell onto the calendar. Though she had been taking her birth control pills religiously, it only occurred to her at that very moment that she hadn't gotten her period in two months.
Shit.
Well, it could be stress. She'd skipped periods before as a teenager when meeting deadlines for work and under unbelievable stress. It didn't necessarily mean anything more than that.
But they were relying on her pill packs, since Ariadne liked the feel of skin against skin and hated having to pause and roll on a condom. Eames had been more than happy to go along with her wishes.
It didn't necessarily mean anything, but there was a feeling of dread in the pit of Ariadne's stomach. Her instincts were screaming at her now, and she trusted her instincts.
She was buying home pregnancy tests on the way to the hotel suite she and Eames were calling home for the duration of this job. Just in case.
***
Two lines.
Her vision blurred, though she didn't realize she was even crying. This had to be a mistake, even though the second line had appeared immediately. Perhaps she was simply dreaming?
She waited a few minutes and then repeated the test with the other stick in the pack.
Two lines. Pregnant.
What was she going to do?
***
"There's a lovely little restaurant that Grenier was telling me about. He heard about it from Xiou, and she knows her restaurants, regardless of cuisine," Eames said, reaching for his phone. "He texted me the address, if you'd like to try it out for dinner tomorrow."
Her stomach had been in knots all day, and Eames had been attentive enough to her that Ariadne felt a thin thread of hope that everything was going to be okay. "I've been tired a lot lately," she began, not sure how to tell him the news without simply blurting it out.
"Well, yes. I've been telling you that you need a little down time," Eames replied. "I know that idiot point man was trying to push you at the last few meetings, but it isn't something that you need to pull all-nighters for. The Reiter job is almost done." He ran his hand down along her arm in a tender gesture. "You can take a break, darling. It won't slow the team down a jot."
Ariadne shook her head. "That's not it..."
"Or is that a hint that I've not been attentive enough?" he asked, moving his hand to trace the rise of her breast. "Considering the past few weeks, I rather thought we've been very compatible in that arena," Eames told her with a smirk.
She took a deep breath. "I've been tired, and my period was late," Ariadne told him abruptly. He stilled, looking at her with a poleaxed expression. "I thought it was just stress. But then I took a pregnancy test..."
He was like carved marble next to her, his blue eyes searching her face. "Ariadne," he began.
"I'm pregnant," Ariadne blurted, anxiety in her features.
Eames fixed her with a stare that immediately made her feel uncomfortable. "It's all right, Ariadne," he said after a moment. "We'll find a good clinic."
Ariadne relaxed slightly. "Oh," she began, a little relieved. "I-"
"There's bound to be recovery time," he continued earnestly. He sat down and took one of her clammy hands in his. "I would imagine there would have to be, depending on what they do, but this far along it's more likely to be surgery than hormonal."
"What?" she breathed, shock setting in. This wasn't happening.
"The doctors will be able to tell us in detail," Eames told her, linking his fingers through hers. He dropped a kiss onto her temple, misinterpreting her shock as relief. "A little time off to recover, then you'll be back at work in no time. We can put all of this behind us."
"All of what?" she asked in a strangled tone of voice.
Eames frowned at her. "The inconvenience, of course. You're nearly done with the second level layout on the Reiter job..." His voice trailed off at her murderous look. "You weren't talking about that, were you?" he asked, voice dropping into a neutral tone.
"Our child is an inconvenience?" Ariadne asked incredulously, voice spiraling up in disbelief. She hastily withdrew her hand from his and jumped to her feet.
"You can't honestly tell me you're considering keeping it," Eames responded flatly. "With our lifestyle? The somnacin and sedatives? Being on the run and changing names as necessary? It would never work with you pregnant and we can't cart around an infant." He started looking at her almost defensively when she gaped at him in shock. "What? Why are you looking at me that way? Infants need all sorts of things, darling. There's the trappings they need on a day to day basis, not to mention regular medical care and supplies. You can't simply grab the child and run for cover if a job doesn't go very well, since they constantly need things."
Eames reached out and grasped her hands gently in his when she couldn't respond to his words with anything but an incredulous stare. "You have to be practical. In our line of work, you can't simply assume that the opposition will leave the child alone. It'll be a weakness, a pawn used to harm, threaten or manipulate you." He shook his head. "You can't possibly think about living this life and keeping it. I'm being completely honest, Ariadne. You won't be safe and neither will the child. You won't be doing it any favors."
It made sense in a logical sort of way, but Ariadne's gut clenched. She looked down at their hands and felt a chill roll down her spine. At that very moment their child was inside of her, and it might grow up to have her hands. Or his. Or some mixture of the two.
Ariadne looked back up at him. "Maybe it's time to step back. Take a break."
"You'd hate it."
"Perhaps this is God's way of telling me to slow down."
Eames snorted and pulled back. "God," he said derisively. "God has nothing to do with this. It's a faulty birth control pack, Ariadne. You know better than to believe in that shite. It's for lesser minds and marks."
"I grew up with it," she said slowly, feeling herself withdraw further from him. Funny how just days before she thought her life was perfect. Funny how everything was falling apart so spectacularly drastically and it was all she could do to keep from screaming.
So funny, yet she forgot to laugh.
"Yes, and you learned to overcome that superstitious rot," Eames replied. He pulled her closer and kissed the back of her hand. "Look, Ariadne. I'll find the name of a reputable clinic and we'll go together. You won't be in this alone."
"I'm not getting rid of it."
Her voice sounded tinny and far away to her own ears. This had to be shock setting in. She could barely feel her fingers and toes.
Eames' expression hardened. "Ariadne. Be reasonable. I already told you it's a horrid idea."
"I can't get rid of it like it's an inconvenience. It's a child. Our child."
"I don't want it."
She took in his thunderous expression and could see the edge of fear and helplessness behind his anger. But he'd already made up his mind; she could see it in the set of his jaw and the way he carried his shoulders. Once he made decisions, he rarely backed down from them. Normally, it helped them get the job done. Normally, it was an admirable trait.
Right now, she wanted to cry.
"I'll do this alone if I have to."
Eames rolled to his feet, expression stony. It was a mask settling into place, and Ariadne hadn't seen one of those in a very long time. It made her feel that much more insecure and alone, and she could feel her heart shattering.
"Then you're doing it alone." His tone brooked no argument. "I won't have anything to do with it, Ariadne." For the first time since she had met him, she felt like she was looking into the eyes of a stranger. "I do wish you luck, but you're doing it all without me."
All of his belongings were gone from the hotel suite when she woke in the morning.
***
Arthur was as steady as ever, which she appreciated. "I don't know what I'm going to do," Ariadne whispered. "I can't... It's a sin. I'm Catholic!" she wailed as panic set in. To her horror, she burst into tears. "I mean, I know I'm lapsed, I even used contraception, for God's sake, I've broken I don't even know how many laws, but I can't murder in cold blood just because it's inconvenient..."
Arthur silently passed her a glass of water. "Take a sip, Ariadne," he told her evenly. "You're babbling and you're making yourself even more upset."
"God, how could he say that? And leave? You don't understand, Arthur. In the middle of the night as I slept. And telling me that our child is inconvenient! I know that, I mean, I know he has a point if you think about it from a certain point of view, but it's a child. An innocent. I was innocent once, we all were. And even him, I'm sure he was even an innocent child once." She brought her hands to her mouth as more tears came to her eyes. She wiped them away angrily, upset with herself for being this upset. "What am I going to do, Arthur? What will I tell my parents? Bad enough I couldn't really tell them about Eames in the first place. They know I'm hiding something, and it's only so long I can keep up a façade and hide things from them." She wiped at her eyes again. "I can't even think..."
"You're upset," he said softly, taking her hands down and away from her mouth. "You're entitled to be," he continued in that same even voice. It was the same voice he had always used when she was rattled by something, starting with her very first drop into dreaming, when Mal had stabbed her. You're okay, he had said, over and over in a calm voice. She hadn't appreciated it at the time, but that was soothing in its own way. Arthur was more like a rock in the midst of her unquiet storms.
"I thought he'd help me," Ariadne told him in a tiny voice, feeling stupid. "I didn't think he'd run away. I didn't think he'd leave me."
Arthur pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips against her temple. It was a surprise, but felt nice. Eames should have done this, she realized. He should have pulled her close and made her feel safe, and he should have told her it would all be okay.
"I'll help you," Arthur said into her hair. "Whatever you need, I'll do it."
"I can't ask that of you…" she protested.
"You're not asking. I'm volunteering," Arthur corrected. He pulled back to look her in the eye. "And as for your parents... I'm sure they would have no objections to your having a baby if you were married."
"Yes, but..."
"So we'll be married." Arthur gave her a rueful smile when she gaped at him. "Is it that horrible to contemplate being married to me?"
"N-no," she stammered hastily. "But that's a lot to ask of you. It's such an imposition..."
Arthur gently touched her chin. It was more like a caress, and her eyes widened as she suddenly realized what his expression truly meant. "No, it isn't."
"You never said anything," she whispered, feeling like a complete imbecile. She'd managed to realize that there was something not quite right about Cobb within a week or two of her training, could tell when Arthur was being sarcastic even if his wit was drier than the Sahara, how to get into Eames' pants during the Fischer job and see beneath his masks. As much as Arthur had kissed her on the second level of the Fischer job, he had made no other overtures and had always kept things strictly professional. Eames had been delighted by her attentions and after a decent period of time had met up with her in Paris to continue their liaison.
And now mere months later, her world was turned upside down and inside out. Again.
His touch was light, and there was the barest hint of a smile in his lips. "You were looking elsewhere," he said quietly. "I didn't want to ruin that for you."
"Even at your own expense?"
"Sometimes it's more important for someone else to be happy," Arthur said simply. She thought of the way he shadowed Cobb for two years, of how diligent he was when he worked and how thorough he was with his research. Arthur was a man used to suppressing his own desires, and it suddenly made Ariadne ashamed. She felt small and stupid, a selfish child that had given in to every whim she had.
"I don't deserve you," she said in a shaky voice.
Arthur leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly. "Yes, you do. Even if it's only friendship that you want."
Ariadne couldn't help her eyes filling with tears. "Now I wish I loved you first."
His sad smile mirrored her own as he stroked her cheek. "You can't force something like that, Ariadne. It's there or it isn't."
"Do you think this is God's way of making me slow down?" she asked in a tremulous voice. If he mocked her religion the way Eames did...
But his lips quirked into that same slight amused smile. "Maybe. God works in mysterious ways, doesn't He? We never figure out what the plan is until it's done and we can look back over what the pattern is. Sometimes we never figure it out, even then. You can't presume to know everything, Ariadne. But that's okay. There's time enough to figure it all out."
It was such a different response than Eames' had been, and not what she would have expected from him at all. Truth be told, she would have expected their responses from the other man, and it suddenly felt humbling how little she actually knew them.
"I don't even know you well enough to be married," Ariadne said, suppressing the urge to giggle. She had the feeling that once she started, she wouldn't stop.
Arthur smiled, a genuine one that was miles wider than the ones she had seen on his face before, with the barest hint of a dimple. "There's time enough for that, too. First things first, get used to the idea that you're pregnant, that you're going to be somebody's mother. There's going to be prenatal checkups and all of that, so you'll want to settle down somewhere if not here."
"Is it silly if I say I want to go home?" she asked tremulously. "But then," she continued before Arthur could answer her, "I don't even know where home is. Is it Boston where my parents are, or Paris? I've lived there for so long, and the past few months in Marrakech..."
He touched her arm gently and her lips quieted. "The first thing that comes to mind."
"Boston," she whispered. "Near my Mom." She cast her eyes down, almost ashamed of herself. She had been so full of swagger and bravado when she left Boston for Paris, full of her own importance and talent. Getting roped into dream share had only bolstered that pride, as all the people she had worked with treated her skill with reverence. Now she was in trouble and wanted to retreat to Boston for her mother to take care of her. Some adult she made.
Arthur's gentle strokes on her arm continued. "Well, that makes sense. She knows more about pregnancy, after all. I can get you books if you like, but with something like pregnancy, I'm sure you'd want to talk with someone you trust about what it's like first hand."
Ariadne looked up with a shy smile. "So it's not a stupid idea?"
"No, it's not," he answered gravely. "I'll get our paperwork in order." He couldn't help but smirk at her startled expression. "Eames isn't the only one able to get papers. He does them himself, but it's all the same in the end." He leaned forward and gave her a soft, chaste kiss on the forehead. "I'll get it started, and then we'll coordinate stories to tell your family."
"I can't even begin to thank you," she began with a tremulous voice.
Arthur stood and shrugged. "I don't mind, Ariadne." It made her feel inherently sad to hear that, because she didn't love him the same way that he loved her. "I'll take care of you. I promise."
"I believe you." She gave him a watery smile. "I've always trusted you."
"Then trust me when I say that this will all work out in the end. I'll make sure of it."
***
Arthur didn't give Eames a chance to explain. He swung at the forger's jaw, connecting. His punch tended to have a lot more weight behind it than people suspected; he had physical combat skills and wasn't averse to fighting dirty. He had known he would simply walk up to Eames and start a fight, so he had a bar of metal curled inside of his fist to add a little more momentum and force to his swing. Surprised by the punch, Eames' head rocked back and he hit the wall. He landed in a graceless heap since he hadn't been able to prepare for taking the punch, and he glared up at Arthur. "The fuck?"
"She comes to you expecting help or at least a discussion and you up and leave in the middle of the night while she's sleeping," Arthur snarled, voice laced heavily with disdain. Eames blinked at him, nonplused. Arthur had never shown this much emotion before, though Eames had never seen him outside of a job. "That's low, even for you."
"Now see here, Arthur. It's got nothing to do with you." He pushed himself to his feet and glared at the point man. "Ariadne is a grown woman and can make her own decisions. There were no promises made when it started, and we both had no expectations of a serious relationship."
"A baby changes things."
"And I told her she shouldn't have it," Eames said bluntly, massaging his jaw. "Let's face it, Arthur. She may still be naïve enough to have ridiculous notions about raising a family and still working in dream share. But you and I both know it's impossible to do. There's no way she can be safe."
"So you cut and run instead of staying and help it become safe." The words you selfish piece of shit went without saying, implicit in Arthur's tone.
"Are you on something, Arthur?" Eames asked. His eyes searched Arthur's tense face for a moment, and it all seemed to crystallize. "Oh bloody hell..."
Arthur hit him again, and Eames didn't have much time to prepare. It was enough so that he didn't hit the wall or fall to the floor, but his head snapped back from the force of the blow. "How could you be so fucking irresponsible?" Arthur snarled, lips pulled back in a grimace.
"Irresponsible? It was her bloody medication that failed," Eames growled, touching his lip. It was already swelling, but not split. "I told her the way of things, that's all."
"It doesn't have to be that way. Dom and Mal had children."
"And look at where it got them," Eames snapped. "But then, I suppose you'd throw yourself under the bus if you're in love with her."
Arthur didn't bother to deny it or throw another punch; he could tell by Eames' shifted stance that he was prepared to take another blow, so it likely meant he'd return the favor. "She's keeping it, Eames. She won't abort or give it up."
"Then she's a damn fool and won't work in the business again. Her talent will be wasted."
By the tone Eames was using, it was clear that he truly believed what he was saying. He had never actually promised anything; Ariadne had been fairly clear on that point. Their relationship had simply happened without them planning anything, coasting from moment to moment. Arthur was also fully aware of Eames' knack for self-preservation. It wasn't inherently malicious, and he never went out of his way to screw someone over, but he didn't necessarily help others if he thought he would suffer for it.
There would be no changing his mind, just as there was no changing Ariadne's mind. They were both far too strong willed for that.
"Then we're done here," Arthur said in an icy tone. The effect was wasted on Eames, who simply nodded. They would likely have to work together in the future; Eames was still the best forger in the business, and Arthur was the best point man. Difficult jobs would require their expertise. He didn't have to like someone to work with them, and Eames was at least a professional beneath the snarky and irreverent behavior.
If only his personal life had the same outcome.
Arthur walked away without a backward glance, heart clenched painfully in his chest. He hadn't wanted to really believe that Eames would give up on a child so easily. He wanted to believe that it had simply been shock that made him react badly. Arthur knew that if Eames had stepped up to acknowledge the child, he would have stepped aside. Children turned out the best if there were two parents that loved them, after all.
He didn't return to his own hotel suite right away. Ariadne was there, upset at being left so abruptly and having her future shift radically beneath her feet. Arthur would help, and she was grateful for that. They had always been friends. She just hadn't considered the possibility that there could be more, which had always been Arthur's secret pain.
It didn't even matter to him that she was pregnant with Eames' child, especially now. The forger had adamantly given up any claim to it, and wanted nothing to do with it. If Arthur was brutally honest with himself, he was glad about that. As much as he would have gracefully let Eames care for Ariadne and the baby if he had expressed interest, a selfish part of Arthur was glad that Eames hadn't. Arthur could then take care of Ariadne, could be in her vicinity and not feel awkward or like a creeper for hanging on her every word.
It was sad and pathetic, but somehow he couldn't care. She was in pain and she needed him, and that was all he allowed himself to focus on. Arthur was very good at compartmentalizing his feelings and thoughts. That and organizing disparate data into a coherent whole were some of the things that he did best.
Arthur found himself near a park, and he slowed down to really take in his surroundings. It was late but not too late, so there were still families about. They were packing it in, and he found his eyes lingering on one family in particular. Apparently they had been lounging for a while in the park, as they had a picnic basket, various toys and were currently folding up a blanket. The parents were dark haired, their child had dirty blond hair. Arthur couldn't tell immediately if the child was a boy or girl, but eventually he could see it was a little boy that was perhaps three years old. "Mommy! Daddy!" he shouted as he ran in circles with a toy car on a string. "Watch me! Watch me!"
They paused in their cleanup to do just that, and Arthur was suddenly struck by how young they looked. That could be us in a few years, he thought suddenly. As quickly as that thought came, he also knew that Ariadne didn't love him, and that the charade would only last a few months. It probably wouldn't even last long enough for the baby to be born, which suddenly made him suck in a pained breath. It was enough to make him sit down on a bench. Oh, he had understood that the potential of the thing wouldn't necessarily be the same as going through with his suggestion, but seeing it in front of him made it seem very real all of a sudden. He would be pretending to be married to Ariadne for her parents' sake, and he would be taking responsibility for Eames' child. Past that, there were no guarantees in this ridiculous plan.
If that was all he could have of Ariadne, he would take it. The charade wouldn't last very long, but at least he would have some time with her, and that would be better than nothing.
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On To Chapter Two - Warm Me Like The Sun