Bits of the story that's been eating my brain
Ariadne’s breath caught as she saw the fury rising on Jonathan’s face. It was always like that. He rarely got angry all at once. If you knew what to look for. After six years she knew all the signs.
***
“Please, Jon,” she whispered. “My hand.” She sucked in a wet breath through her mouth. “It hurts.”
***
She hurt and she throbbed and, more frightening, she was numb. There was no way she could go in to work tomorrow, maybe not even the day after. Twenty-four hours and careful makeup went a long way to hiding a black eye. This felt like more than a black eye.
Jon hadn’t been this bad in a long time.
***
He might call someone else from the team. Eames, she knew, was in town. Or worse, he’d send one of his own men to find out what was going on. It would have been an overreaction from anyone else, but freaking Saito bought airlines because it was neater.
***
The pounding jolted her back to consciousness.
***
A slender young man, Ariadne presumed he was Japanese, gave her a brief once over. He touched the device in his ear. “You are Ariadne Bishop?” he asked in a smooth, full-throated French so unexpected that Ariadne stumbled backwards.
***
“... Saito, you’ve already done so much for me. Please say you’re not hanging around Paris just to make sure I get released.”
“No.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“I am ‘hanging around’ as you say, so that I may take you back to Japan with me.”
***
First taking care to wash his hands, Yusuf came out to join Eames at the front of the store. They shook hands and Yusuf invited him to the back for tea. “Or would you rather dream?”
Eames smiled slyly. “I do try to keep business from pleasure.”
“In my line of work, that’s hardly an answer.”
***
“Do you know what time it is, Mr. Eames?” Arthur asked instead of saying hello, despite sounding like it was nine in the morning and he’d been up since six.
“Goodmorning, darling. Tell me, have you heard from our dear Ariadne-chan lately?”
Eames could hear Arthur’s frown as he said, “You shouldn’t call her that. She’s an adult woman, and you’re not some dear family friend who remembers her in pigtails.”
***
Arthur snorted. “So it’s your pride that’s bruised.”
“No, in fact. Especially as I’m not sure that’s possible. What concerns me is that Yusuf saw her at the house when Saito used that adorable little appellation. And there’s his reputation to consider, of course.” Eames huffed. “Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to overthink things?”
***
Kay quirked a delicately arched brow. “You spy on your friends like they’re marks?” She reached for one of the stacks of photos on the table. Eames let her as he studied one picture in particular. “When it appears they are in trouble...yes.”
Kay quickly flipped through the pictures in her hands of a dark-haired, pale-skinned young woman going about her regular day. She was immaculately dressed, whether in suits or denim-though in most of them she was in some state between-often in the company of some young man or other. Occasionally her companion was an older gentleman, also immaculately dressed. She was utterly dwarfed by him when they were pictured standing next to him, looking more like a child playing dress-up, or a very carefully crafted china-doll. “Is she as young as she seems?”
***
Eames stood suddenly. “I need a fag. When’s our flight?”
“Four hours,” Arthur promptly replied. He and Kay watched as Eames left the room to step out onto the balcony, patting his pockets as he went. Arthur turned to Kay. “She was Cobb’s...apprentice on his last job.”
Both of Kay’s eyebrows went up. “The one that’s kept him out of the business, ‘last’ job?”
Arthur gave her a bland look.
“Hmm. So this is all sentimental for you, then?”
Arthur looked away. “Something like that.”
***
After a while, Cobb turned from the window to Arthur. “What hotel are we staying at?”
“Keio Plaza. Why?” he asked, eyes trained on the file he’d been studying since the end of the Balinese job.
Cobb glanced out the window again, hugging Phillipa close. “You know how long it’s been since I’ve been in Japan but I’m pretty sure we’re going the wrong way,” he said softly.
***
“I believe you have won our bet, Ari-chan,” Saito said to Ariadne as they rose to greet their guests. “I said they would not come for you until the Autumn, and you said Summer.”
“What did you win?” Phillipa asked.
Ariadne’s eyes widened as she noticed Phillipa and James standing beside their father. “Omigosh...Phillipa! James! My peanuts! Look at how big you are!” She held out her arms for them, and they came running.
***
“Mmm, what I know of Ari-chan’s father makes him unsuitable, but the kernel of the lie is true.”
“Which is?” Cobb demanded, watching him intently as he returned to the sitting area.
Saito handed him a large brown kraft envelope. “That she is troubled. And a good father would send her away from them if he could. Please retake your seat Mr. Cobb. I find that as an old man, I do not take surprise as well as the young do. I am sure you find the same to be true.”
Saito calmly, quietly watched Cobb open the envelope and slide its contents into his hands. He divided the pictures between Arthur and Eames, but kept the medical report for himself.
***
Shaking his head, Eames re-took his seat. “So are we done prattling on about the problem and how could we not have seen and what’s a smart girl like her doing sticking around with a pratt like him?” He looked between the three seated me. “None of you look quite as guilty or angry as you could, so I’ll take it as a no. Let’s save it for the hotel later, alright? Right now we’re here to see Ariadne and she’s avoiding us.”
***
They were standing in next to one of several koi ponds, watching Ariadne flee with Saito’s son, when Saito suggested, “Perhaps it would be easier if you were to move your lodging here.”
“No,” Cobb and Arthur said.
Saito raised his eyebrows. “Even in a house this extensive, she could not avoid you forever.”
Both men looked at each other. Cobb turned away first, a sudden gust ruffling his hair as it blew summer debris into the pond. “We’ll have to ask Eames.”
***
She felt him approaching. The question was which of her “saviors” had come. It was so quiet that Ariadne had spent part of her sleepless night tracking one of the house-cats as it stalked something small and not long for this world.
***
She let the weight of her hand rest in his. “I’m not going to break.”
“Oh no, love,” he said softly, “I think you’ve been broken enough.” He gently closed his hand around hers, fully engulfing it. “All right?”
She nodded. “All right.”
He pulled her towards him, moving closer himself when she wouldn’t budge. “All right?”
Hip to hip, she nodded. “All right.”
He transferred her hand to his far one so that he could drape his arm over her side.
She tensed as the heat of his body engulfed her, surprising after his stillness. Shouldn’t he be as cool and distant as his demeanor?
Eames looked down at her, drawing back so that she had to lean in or lose the warmth of him. “All right, love?”
Ariadne nodded. “All right.”
So he leaned in close again, holding her left hand in his and keeping her warm under his arm. They sat that way for a little while, until Eames finally asked the question he’d wanted to know all along. “Why didn’t you say anything, love? I’d have been there in a heartbeat.”
***
Ariadne swiped at her face with her shoulders. “Shut up. He’s...just an artist. He doesn’t mean it. He’s--”
“Always terribly sorry after the fact, after he’s seen what he’s done to your pretty skin.” Eames gave her a tight-lipped smile, though she didn’t see it. “I know it all. Trust me. But what does he do when there’s no threat of scaring? When it’s all words he beats you with. When he sees he’s made you feel ten centimeters big, what kind of mea culpa does he give you then, love?”
Facing the pond, she was silent and still for a several minutes, until Eames noticed that there was no wind to make her hair quiver the way it did. He stood, reaching for her. She sagged against him, silent and trembling.
***
I'm hoping to finish this monster (b/c it keeps growing every time I touch it) before NaNo starts, but that just gives me til Tuesday. Meep!