Two To Keep A Secret, 1/3.
Title: Two To Keep A Secret
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13 (But Part 1 does slide into R territory)
Pairing: Ariadne/Eames
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Christopher Nolan and not to me. His toys are fun to play with!
Spoilers/Warnings: Takes place during and after the movie. For the inception_kink meme prompt in round 15: They marry a year after the inception, and tell no one. No Arthur knowing, none of that. How they handle domesticity in their line of work. Also for the "bullet wounds" box on my hc_bingo card.
Summary: Despite being surrounded by people who discovered secrets for a living, Ariadne and Eames managed to keep a pretty big secret. Then again, they were really motivated to do so.
"You know that Arthur is very protective of you," Eames commented as he walked through the hospital fortress of his level with Ariadne. He had suggested a cold and austere landscape to reflect what they knew of Maurice Fischer, but hadn't quite thought of the snow and ice. He rather liked it, and looked forward to doing stunts on skis again.
Ariadne smiled. "I know. He's been very conscientious and gallant. I think he wants to make sure he doesn't scare me away during this part of the job."
Eames laughed and looked at the wall safe. He crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side as he contemplated Ariadne. "You're here, despite the risk and danger involved in this line of work. You're willingly associating with criminals." He uncrossed his arms and grinned at her. "I do believe you have a wild streak he hasn't realized yet."
Tucking her hair behind her ears, Ariadne merely gave him a Mona Lisa smile. "Maybe."
Taking a gamble, Eames strode forward and let his large hands fall to her shoulders. She didn't flinch or seem perturbed in the slightest. "How far are you willing to go, Miss Ariadne?" he asked, lips quirking into a sensual smile.
Ariadne rested her hands on his chest, fingers curling slightly into the fabric. It was softer than she would have thought it would be. "You presume a lot, don't you?"
"Am I wrong?"
Her smile was more than answer enough. "Not entirely, no."
"Not entirely?" he taunted playfully.
"How do I know you're worth the risk?"
"Isn't finding out part of the fun?"
She laughed and pulled him down for a kiss.
***
Ariadne liked Arthur, and he made a great friend. She was tempted to tell him about certain improprieties she and Eames had been up to while he was learning his level, but changed her mind. There was more than enough competition between the two as it was, and she didn't want to tip it over into outright animosity. It wasn't a conscious decision not to tell anyone, but it seemed to be the safest option. Whatever her relationship with Eames turned out to be, she didn't want it to distract the team.
It was a little endearing that Eames seemed to feel the same way. "Arthur will scold you, you know," he had said, looking out over the snowy vista. "He doesn't mix business with pleasure, and isn't the sort to understand we're just having a bit of fun." He was the dreamer this time, and the scenery was almost able to match the crispness of Ariadne's dreamscape. He looked down when Ariadne touched his arm, and he gave her a smirk. "The others will think I'm corrupting you. You're not a confirmed criminal like the rest of us, and they'll fall all over themselves to try to save you from this horrid fate," he told her, sarcasm in his tone. She was an adult and could make her own decisions; if anything the innocent appearance could only help her hide in plain sight if she wanted to stay in dream share.
"Eames," she murmured, leaning in closer and standing on her tip toes. She pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek, then leaned her forehead against his face. "This is what I want. The dreaming, you... This is what I choose."
"It's dangerous, Ariadne," he murmured, turning to wrap his arms around her. It was freezing cold now, so they had to wear snowsuits. He wished he could tear hers off and bare her skin to his gaze again. "I won't lie to you about that. We're making it look easy, but it can be dangerous going into someone's mind. It can be dangerous in the real world, if the subject has physical security you hadn't planned for."
They had no idea how right he would be.
***
Everyone separated after the Fischer job. Robert Fischer went off and broke apart his inheritance, selling some of it piecemeal. Saito bought up some of those pieces, but for the most part he seemed a much more methodical and quiet man. Ariadne supposed that a lifetime in limbo would add a little weight to his decisions. She hadn't really been there long enough for limbo to make an impact besides knowing it existed and was easy to get lost in. Eames had stopped by or called her frequently after the Fischer job, as had Arthur. At first she didn't see it as anything more than professional courtesy to be sure that she was truly all right after the ordeal. Ariadne hadn't thought of it as the terrifying experience that the other dreamers had, but it never really occurred to her that the risk of staying in limbo was never waking up. She hadn't stopped to think of the possibility that she could have never come back.
As much as she and Eames had more of a physical relationship than an emotional one during the Fischer job, she gradually realized that he was more attached than he wanted to let on. He had made it clear during the job itself that he would leave if she didn't return, and she had understood it as professional distance. When he started staying overnight to watch her sleep to be sure that she woke up in the morning, Ariadne realized that perhaps there had been fear, too. He wanted to be sure that she didn't get lost in dreams, and that she was still the same woman he had worked with on the Fischer job.
Eames showed up at her apartment in Paris nearly a month later. He kissed her as soon as she opened the door, walking her backward and kicking the door shut behind him. "Mind if I stay a while?" he asked between kisses. It took her a moment to realize that this was their first kiss in the real world, that they had always been so circumspect at the warehouse before this.
"I'd be insulted if you didn't," Ariadne said, pushing his jacket from his shoulders.
His body was slightly different in this world than in dreams. There were more scars, evidence of past bullet wounds and knife fights, and a nasty looking burn across his left thigh that he didn't want to discuss. Ariadne kissed each one, a map of all his past troubles, and didn't ask any more questions about it. It was exploring with hands and lips and mouths, seeing and feeling everything for the first time. She had to laugh when they bumped noses, when his touch across her stomach tickled instead of aroused, when his stomach growled as they lay spent on her bed. "Okay. I might not have eaten before I got here," he admitted with a grin. "I was rather in a rush to visit a certain someone."
"Good," she said, rolling over to straddle him. "I do have food here. I can make you something."
"Can you cook?" he asked, delighted.
"Simple things. I'm a college student, you know." She grinned at him. "If it's cheap and simple, I know how to make it."
"Fantastic. Get all domestic and show me what a home is like."
Ariadne laughed and scrambled off of the bed to put together a simple meal, but it occurred to her that it was a rather sad comment. With the life he led, he probably didn't know what a home was like. He was probably running from one place to the next, hiding behind different aliases to keep ahead of the authorities. He'd warned her before, she knew. She wasn't blind to it. And as enamored of the dream share world as she was, she was going to have to learn at least a few of those tricks herself.
Eames made a big show of enjoying dinner, dressed in nothing but his underwear as he sprawled across her ratty couch. "You need a larger flat, darling," he drawled, bowl in hand. "You can certainly afford it now."
"True," she murmured, perching at the edge of the couch near his hip. "I'll need space enough for you to stay in, too."
He eyed her with a half smile on his face. "You need to keep dreaming, don't you?"
"There's nothing else like it," she told him with a smile.
There was a sad cast to his eyes, as if he had hoped that wouldn't be the case for her. Arthur had looked at her in much the same way, actually. "Well, you should do it up right, then."
"That is the plan."
"And..." Eames sat up and leaned in closer to her. "I'm dangerous, Ariadne. Not to you, not directly, but in general. I'm all smiles where you're concerned, but I'm not the kind of man that stays out of trouble. I can't let anyone know how important you are..." His voice trailed off as her eyes widened. He let out a sigh as he realized what he said. "We'd be weapons used against each other if one of us got caught. I won't have you be used that way." He cupped her face in his gloved hands. "I've been shot at and hunted down. I'm a con man and a thief, Ariadne. I'm a forger in every sense of the word, and I don't want you going in blind if that's what you want."
Ariadne kissed him. "I trust you, Eames. In that respect, anyway," she added with a wry smile as he opened his mouth to talk. She slung an arm around his shoulders. "We'll work something out. No one will know, and no one will be able to hold you against me."
Eames laughed and then kissed her back. "Why was I ever afraid you wouldn't understand?"
She snorted and shook her head. "You have no idea how awful architecture programs can be. You might be talking about a different kind of danger, but I know how to watch my back."
"Thank God," he murmured, kissing her again.
***
Other than a three month stretch where Eames was working in New Delhi, he tended to stop by every other week for a few days at a time. He didn't announce his visits and he had a key to her new apartment. It was larger than the old one and had more sunlight in it for working. Arthur had helped her find it and introduced her to the security team that wired the alarms and helped to create another viable identity for her. Ariadne simply thanked him and didn't mention the identity that Eames had put together for her; having a few to fall back on would only be beneficial for staying in dream share.
Eames looked immensely proud of himself when he pushed two sets of passports at her. It was almost a year after the Fischer job, and there was a vague air of nervousness about him. "What do you think?" he asked, grinning madly once she picked up the passports.
One was hers, one was his. Their last names matched. Ariadne looked up at him, eyebrow lofted in an unspoken question. "These are really good fakes."
"They don't have to be, exactly," he murmured, resting his hand along her thigh. "The names aren't what we were born with, but they can be ours."
"With the same last name," she pointed out. She wasn't going to make this easy for him. He would have to actually ask.
He actually got to his knees, kneeling in front her as she sat on the couch. There was that same proud yet shy smile on his lips, his blue eyes twinkling. "Ariadne, will you marry me?" he asked, sliding his hands up her thighs. "I can't promise it will be safe, and it's not something we can tell anyone about. But I want more than just a life in dreams with you."
Ariadne leaned in close and kissed his upturned mouth. "Jonathan LeClair, I will marry you," she said against his mouth, smiling.
"He's the happiest man in all of Paris, you know," Eames replied, pushing her back against the couch and spreading her legs wide so he could kneel between them. "Elaine LeClair is the most beautiful-" He pressed a kiss to her neck. "-brilliant-" He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "-loving-" He pressed a kiss over her clothed chest. "-and sexy woman there is." He moved down and let his mouth hover over her stomach, making her catch her breath expectantly. "I'm a lucky man, Ariadne." He smiled, and she could see the absolute honesty there. "This is like nothing I ever expected and everything I ever wanted."
Pulling him up, Ariadne kissed his mouth. "Flatterer," she teased. "I love you, too."
***
There was coffee and croissants when Ariadne woke the morning she married Eames. They left her apartment separately, and met at the courthouse with their forged documents. The courthouse staff were more than happy to serve as witnesses, and the papers were signed with gusto. Elaine and Jonathan LeClair exchanged plain gold bands, though afterward their locations moved. Eames slipped his ring onto the chain of his pocket watch, as if it was a charm. Ariadne moved hers to her right hand, and planned to eventually put it on a chain around her neck. It would be easier to hide the ring behind a scarf, or explain it away as her mother's. If not for the ceremony, they might not have even gotten rings. There really wasn't a need for it, after all.
Eames had half of her closet and two drawers in her dresser. His guitar was in the corner of the bedroom, and he had few other belongings that could be traced back to him. He still kept a separate room in a boarding house just outside of Paris as a backup. Ariadne knew where he hid the key and what the pass code for the outer door was.
Just as no one had realized when their relationship had progressed beyond friendship, no one had any idea they had gotten married. They preferred it that way.
***
"I can't believe you have a secret love of chick flicks," Ariadne teased, feet up in Eames' lap as they watched a movie together.
"This is very good research material!" Eames protested, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. "Look at all that emotional content! How else can I emulate it?"
She plucked the popcorn from her shirt and popped it into her mouth with a smile. "Face it, you're a romantic at heart."
"That's a filthy lie," he returned with a grin. "I will deny it with my dying breath. I'm a heartless criminal, I'll have you know. I have quite the reputation behind me."
"Of course you do, sweetie," Ariadne said with a laugh, rubbing his side with her toes. Eames laughed and grasped her ankle, tickling the sole of her foot. Her leg jerked, tipping over the bowl of popcorn. "Oi! That was a perfectly good batch of popcorn you spilled!"
"You tickled me!" she protested, leaning forward to swat his arm. There was no way to pull her foot out of his grasp, and they both knew it. She let out a shriek of laughter as he tickled her bare sole again, and twisted in his grasp. She wound up falling off of the couch, and Eames fell off of it on top of her. "Oof! You're big and heavy," she said, pushing at his shoulders.
"You do like that, darling," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her.
Ariadne wrapped her arms around him. "Maybe."
He kissed her again, a smile on his face. "Definitely."
"Smug bastard."
Eames couldn't help but grin at that. "Maybe."
Ariadne laughed and leaned up to kiss him. "Definitely."
He laughed along with her, then kissed her again. His tongue slid into her mouth and he had a hand in her hair. "You taste like popcorn."
"So do you," she said with a smile.
Nuzzling her neck, Eames chuckled. "I wonder what else you taste like."
"Why don't you find out?" Ariadne replied breathily, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
They were too busy to actually watch the rest of the movie.
***
"Don't stop," Ariadne whimpered, nails digging into Eames' shoulders. "There, there..."
Eames grinned, swiveling his hips. He opened his mouth to say something in reply when his phone rang. "Bugger. It's Arthur."
"Don't you dare answer that phone," she snarled, moving her hands to grasp his rear and pull him in. "I'm close..."
"He gets persistent, and he knows I'm not working now." Eames gave her an apologetic glance and slowed his pace slightly. "I've got to answer. It's probably a job."
"He can wait five minutes!" she cried, digging her fingers into his ass.
"Darling, we both know it'll take more than five minutes..."
"Not if you answer that phone!"
He picked it up anyway. "He'll be insufferable if I don't," Eames said with a sigh. He brought his hand between her legs and started to stroke her. "I suppose you'll just have to be quiet." Ariadne glared at him but bit her lip to keep from moaning at the sensation. He did know how to push her buttons this way, and Eames gave her a brilliant grin as he hit the answer button on his cell phone. "This is a most inopportune time, Arthur. It better be good."
"Hello to you, too," Arthur replied testily. "You're not working at the moment, right?"
"Depends on what you have for me," Eames said, voice even despite the wiggle in Ariadne's hips. Oh, she played dirty pool. She grinned at his flustered expression and did it again. Just for that, he flicked his fingers a little faster against her, and she had to put her fist in her mouth to keep quiet.
"I've got a line on an industrial espionage job. Not very complicated in scope, but I think having a forger on board would be best."
"Who's on the team, then?" Eames asked, biting back a groan.
"Williams is probably going to be able to do the extraction. Escajeda definitely can't."
"Wanker isn't any good anyway. I've worked with him before, and he can't memorize more than a page or two at a time. He can't run anything complicated."
"Good to know. He came recommended," Arthur said. Eames could hear some faint scritches of a pen on paper, and focused on that instead of the sensation of Ariadne shimmying beneath him or her fingers stroking his stomach.
"Who else?"
"Why? Is having you for the job contingent on certain people being there?"
"Or not being there, as the case may be," Eames replied. He sucked in a breath when Ariadne tightened and jerked her hips. Realizing that Arthur could hear that, he quickly covered it by adding "Not that my personal vendettas would complicate a job. I'm just being cautious."
"As well you should," Arthur replied approvingly. "I need to get a definite response on a chemist and architect."
"What about Ariadne? Her work was bloody brilliant." That comment earned him a smile and a tender caress across his stomach, and he grinned in response.
"She's first on my list," Arthur said with a laugh. "I liked working with her."
"Well, Yusuf isn't likely going to go into the field ever again, but you can probably try to chase down Nils Janssen. I've heard good things about his work and Yusuf thinks he's a passable chemist." Eames covered a moan with a laugh. "Coming from Yusuf, that's high praise indeed."
Ariadne merely grinned in response to his mock glare and shimmied her hips again.
"Thanks for the heads up. I'll start tracking them down. I'll get back to you with more details on this job as soon as I get them."
"Sounds good, Arthur."
Eames tossed his phone aside on the bed and leaned into Ariadne. "You are a naughty, naughty girl, Ariadne."
She bucked her hips against his and made him groan in response. "You love it, don't lie."
Laughing, he kissed her and started working on her in earnest. She came with a cry, arching beneath him. "I'm not done with you yet, love," he murmured against her jaw.
Her phone rang, and they both groaned. Ariadne reached for her phone and glared at it when she saw it was Arthur. "This was your idea."
"I didn't think he'd call you now!"
"Your turn for torture," Ariadne said smugly, hitting the answer button on her phone. Two could play at this game. "Arthur!" she said with a bright tone of voice. "So glad to hear from you again! How are you?"
She clenched her inner muscles at intervals or ran her nails along his skin as she chatted with Arthur about how he was doing and what the job would be. Eames managed to grit his teeth to keep silent, and he tried to play with her to get her to stop. Ariadne smacked his hand away and stuck her tongue out at him. When Arthur finally got off the phone, she tossed hers beside his.
"You are an evil, evil woman," Eames groaned finally. "Are you going to let me come?"
Ariadne gave him a push so that he fell to the side. She scrambled on top of him and readjusted their position. "Maybe. If you're good. And stop answering the damn phone while we're in bed together!"
"It was a job!"
"It can wait, dammit!" She bucked her hips and had her hands on his shoulders for balance. "You got that?"
"Yes, ma'am," Eames snarked.
Ariadne leaned down and kissed his lips. "Good boy." She grinned at him and then began to move in earnest. "Let's get you to come for me."
***
Their first argument was actually while on the job. In front of everyone else. Because he had to kiss another woman as he picked her jacket pocket, distracting her as he made a hand off to Arthur. Ariadne knew it was insane; the kiss meant nothing and it was a necessary distraction so that Arthur could copy the data from the phone onto a blank. At the same time, her gut had roiled and she had wanted to rip out the woman's eyes and choke her to death.
She possibly was a little possessive. Possibly. Maybe.
Ariadne had looked over at the dark haired woman in her tailored outfit and high heels, feeling inadequate.
Definitely jealous, then.
Their extractor wasn't as good as Dom Cobb had been, and he certainly wasn't any kind of brave. He excused himself and left the room as soon as Ariadne started lighting into Eames, using words like "whore" and "heartless, callous bastard" before storming out of the office space they were using. Arthur stared after her and then at Eames. "Well," he began slowly.
"I haven't been dressed down like that since the military," Eames remarked, sitting down at a random desk. He looked at Arthur evenly, trying to see if the point man could guess anything.
"She's still relatively new," Arthur told him, sitting down opposite Eames. "And she doesn't know the lengths that sometimes we have to go to in order to get the job done."
Eames scrubbed at his jaw, wondering how he had managed to win Arthur's sympathy. This was awkward, and for a moment he almost wanted to admit he knew why Ariadne had reacted the way he did. "I think I'd rather she just hit me and be done with it," he admitted with a smile. "Just get it out of her system so we can move on."
Arthur snorted. "That's not her style, you know that. We've been looking out for her, since no one ever really explained what the dream share community is like. She doesn't know how it can get. I for one would rather keep it that way."
"She's not fragile, Arthur," Eames remarked, even though he privately agreed with Arthur.
"I know that. But she doesn't have to see the darker sides of dream share, does she?"
"She would have our heads if she knew we were protecting her this way."
"I don't plan on telling her," Arthur told him pointedly. He took out his notebook and the copied cell phone. "The data was valuable. I should have a few leads on who you'll need to tail for this in the next day or so."
"Good to know the screaming match was worth it." He grinned and got up. "I'll go hide my face for a bit, then. I'll see you tomorrow, usual time."
He left Arthur to go work, and Eames put together a quick plan in his head. Dinner, flowers and a long discussion about what he would and would not be willing to do for the job now that he was married. There would likely be a lot of begging and pleading for her to understand the situation they were in, as well as reassurance that he only wanted her. He hadn't actually thought about how it would look to Ariadne, just as she likely hadn't thought she would have to watch him turn on the charm for someone else. She was usually pretty understanding, and Eames hoped that he could convince her that she was the only woman he had any romantic interest in. That would likely lead to sex. At least, he hoped it did. He couldn't exactly predict how Ariadne would respond. Just when he thought he understood her, she did something unexpected that yanked out the underpinnings of his mental construct of her. It was part of his fascination with her, but it made times like this damned frustrating.
Ariadne was in her hotel room when he broke in. The door closed behind him with a quiet click. She was curled on the bed in loose pajamas, eyes red from crying and tissues overflowing from the tiny wastebasket. She had ice cream with her and was watching some horrible action movie on TV, though he could tell her attention wasn't on the movie at all.
Scrapping his prior plan, Eames sat on the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry, Ariadne," he murmured, kissing her temple. "I'm sorry."
"I know you had to. I know I'm being stupid about this. I know she doesn't mean anything. But..."
"It's... Would it be horrible if I said this is actually nice?" he asked, smiling against her temple and holding her even tighter. "She doesn't mean anything. Which likely doesn't sound right, but it's the truth. It was a way to distract her, nothing more. I didn't mean to hurt you with this."
"Ass," she grumbled, pushing at his chest. "I know that. I do. But you looked into it, and it was awful to see that and know that I'm the one you married and we can't tell anyone!" She sniffled and finished off the last of the ice cream, which had mostly melted inside the container. "You're not having sex with me," she said defiantly, chin jutting out.
"But then you lose out, too."
"I'm pissed off at life," she said, smacking his chest. "I'm not in the mood."
"You're always in the mood!"
She smacked his chest again. "Out! As far as apologies go, this sucks!"
Eames sighed and pulled her even closer. He didn't care about the smear of chocolate on his shirt or the mascara streaks getting rubbed into his sleeve. He wasn't known for impeccable taste anyway, and he dressed mostly for appearance and rumor. "I love you, Ariadne." He said in low tones. "I wish I could tell everyone in the world without putting you in danger. I wish you didn't have to see that, so you wouldn't be this upset. I wish our work wasn't as dangerous as it is."
He could feel tears through his shirt and he merely rocked her. She clutched at his chest and remained silent. It wasn't forgiveness, exactly, but he knew that she wouldn't hold it against him when the tension bled out of her.
"You're beautiful," he whispered into her hair.
"I'm crying and awful and in crappy pajamas."
"You're real, Ariadne. You're real and you're beautiful and you're mine. No one else is."
She was quiet for a long time, and Eames simply held her. "I love you," she said finally. "I'm a complete lunatic for that, but I still love you."
"Well, good. I love you, too. I'd hate for that affection not to be returned."
Shaking her head, Ariadne simply burrowed closer to his warmth. Eames held on tightly and breathed in the scent of her. This was real, and this was exactly what he wanted.
***
***
To chapter 2!
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13 (But Part 1 does slide into R territory)
Pairing: Ariadne/Eames
Disclaimer: Everyone here belongs to Christopher Nolan and not to me. His toys are fun to play with!
Spoilers/Warnings: Takes place during and after the movie. For the inception_kink meme prompt in round 15: They marry a year after the inception, and tell no one. No Arthur knowing, none of that. How they handle domesticity in their line of work. Also for the "bullet wounds" box on my hc_bingo card.
Summary: Despite being surrounded by people who discovered secrets for a living, Ariadne and Eames managed to keep a pretty big secret. Then again, they were really motivated to do so.
"You know that Arthur is very protective of you," Eames commented as he walked through the hospital fortress of his level with Ariadne. He had suggested a cold and austere landscape to reflect what they knew of Maurice Fischer, but hadn't quite thought of the snow and ice. He rather liked it, and looked forward to doing stunts on skis again.
Ariadne smiled. "I know. He's been very conscientious and gallant. I think he wants to make sure he doesn't scare me away during this part of the job."
Eames laughed and looked at the wall safe. He crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side as he contemplated Ariadne. "You're here, despite the risk and danger involved in this line of work. You're willingly associating with criminals." He uncrossed his arms and grinned at her. "I do believe you have a wild streak he hasn't realized yet."
Tucking her hair behind her ears, Ariadne merely gave him a Mona Lisa smile. "Maybe."
Taking a gamble, Eames strode forward and let his large hands fall to her shoulders. She didn't flinch or seem perturbed in the slightest. "How far are you willing to go, Miss Ariadne?" he asked, lips quirking into a sensual smile.
Ariadne rested her hands on his chest, fingers curling slightly into the fabric. It was softer than she would have thought it would be. "You presume a lot, don't you?"
"Am I wrong?"
Her smile was more than answer enough. "Not entirely, no."
"Not entirely?" he taunted playfully.
"How do I know you're worth the risk?"
"Isn't finding out part of the fun?"
She laughed and pulled him down for a kiss.
***
Ariadne liked Arthur, and he made a great friend. She was tempted to tell him about certain improprieties she and Eames had been up to while he was learning his level, but changed her mind. There was more than enough competition between the two as it was, and she didn't want to tip it over into outright animosity. It wasn't a conscious decision not to tell anyone, but it seemed to be the safest option. Whatever her relationship with Eames turned out to be, she didn't want it to distract the team.
It was a little endearing that Eames seemed to feel the same way. "Arthur will scold you, you know," he had said, looking out over the snowy vista. "He doesn't mix business with pleasure, and isn't the sort to understand we're just having a bit of fun." He was the dreamer this time, and the scenery was almost able to match the crispness of Ariadne's dreamscape. He looked down when Ariadne touched his arm, and he gave her a smirk. "The others will think I'm corrupting you. You're not a confirmed criminal like the rest of us, and they'll fall all over themselves to try to save you from this horrid fate," he told her, sarcasm in his tone. She was an adult and could make her own decisions; if anything the innocent appearance could only help her hide in plain sight if she wanted to stay in dream share.
"Eames," she murmured, leaning in closer and standing on her tip toes. She pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek, then leaned her forehead against his face. "This is what I want. The dreaming, you... This is what I choose."
"It's dangerous, Ariadne," he murmured, turning to wrap his arms around her. It was freezing cold now, so they had to wear snowsuits. He wished he could tear hers off and bare her skin to his gaze again. "I won't lie to you about that. We're making it look easy, but it can be dangerous going into someone's mind. It can be dangerous in the real world, if the subject has physical security you hadn't planned for."
They had no idea how right he would be.
***
Everyone separated after the Fischer job. Robert Fischer went off and broke apart his inheritance, selling some of it piecemeal. Saito bought up some of those pieces, but for the most part he seemed a much more methodical and quiet man. Ariadne supposed that a lifetime in limbo would add a little weight to his decisions. She hadn't really been there long enough for limbo to make an impact besides knowing it existed and was easy to get lost in. Eames had stopped by or called her frequently after the Fischer job, as had Arthur. At first she didn't see it as anything more than professional courtesy to be sure that she was truly all right after the ordeal. Ariadne hadn't thought of it as the terrifying experience that the other dreamers had, but it never really occurred to her that the risk of staying in limbo was never waking up. She hadn't stopped to think of the possibility that she could have never come back.
As much as she and Eames had more of a physical relationship than an emotional one during the Fischer job, she gradually realized that he was more attached than he wanted to let on. He had made it clear during the job itself that he would leave if she didn't return, and she had understood it as professional distance. When he started staying overnight to watch her sleep to be sure that she woke up in the morning, Ariadne realized that perhaps there had been fear, too. He wanted to be sure that she didn't get lost in dreams, and that she was still the same woman he had worked with on the Fischer job.
Eames showed up at her apartment in Paris nearly a month later. He kissed her as soon as she opened the door, walking her backward and kicking the door shut behind him. "Mind if I stay a while?" he asked between kisses. It took her a moment to realize that this was their first kiss in the real world, that they had always been so circumspect at the warehouse before this.
"I'd be insulted if you didn't," Ariadne said, pushing his jacket from his shoulders.
His body was slightly different in this world than in dreams. There were more scars, evidence of past bullet wounds and knife fights, and a nasty looking burn across his left thigh that he didn't want to discuss. Ariadne kissed each one, a map of all his past troubles, and didn't ask any more questions about it. It was exploring with hands and lips and mouths, seeing and feeling everything for the first time. She had to laugh when they bumped noses, when his touch across her stomach tickled instead of aroused, when his stomach growled as they lay spent on her bed. "Okay. I might not have eaten before I got here," he admitted with a grin. "I was rather in a rush to visit a certain someone."
"Good," she said, rolling over to straddle him. "I do have food here. I can make you something."
"Can you cook?" he asked, delighted.
"Simple things. I'm a college student, you know." She grinned at him. "If it's cheap and simple, I know how to make it."
"Fantastic. Get all domestic and show me what a home is like."
Ariadne laughed and scrambled off of the bed to put together a simple meal, but it occurred to her that it was a rather sad comment. With the life he led, he probably didn't know what a home was like. He was probably running from one place to the next, hiding behind different aliases to keep ahead of the authorities. He'd warned her before, she knew. She wasn't blind to it. And as enamored of the dream share world as she was, she was going to have to learn at least a few of those tricks herself.
Eames made a big show of enjoying dinner, dressed in nothing but his underwear as he sprawled across her ratty couch. "You need a larger flat, darling," he drawled, bowl in hand. "You can certainly afford it now."
"True," she murmured, perching at the edge of the couch near his hip. "I'll need space enough for you to stay in, too."
He eyed her with a half smile on his face. "You need to keep dreaming, don't you?"
"There's nothing else like it," she told him with a smile.
There was a sad cast to his eyes, as if he had hoped that wouldn't be the case for her. Arthur had looked at her in much the same way, actually. "Well, you should do it up right, then."
"That is the plan."
"And..." Eames sat up and leaned in closer to her. "I'm dangerous, Ariadne. Not to you, not directly, but in general. I'm all smiles where you're concerned, but I'm not the kind of man that stays out of trouble. I can't let anyone know how important you are..." His voice trailed off as her eyes widened. He let out a sigh as he realized what he said. "We'd be weapons used against each other if one of us got caught. I won't have you be used that way." He cupped her face in his gloved hands. "I've been shot at and hunted down. I'm a con man and a thief, Ariadne. I'm a forger in every sense of the word, and I don't want you going in blind if that's what you want."
Ariadne kissed him. "I trust you, Eames. In that respect, anyway," she added with a wry smile as he opened his mouth to talk. She slung an arm around his shoulders. "We'll work something out. No one will know, and no one will be able to hold you against me."
Eames laughed and then kissed her back. "Why was I ever afraid you wouldn't understand?"
She snorted and shook her head. "You have no idea how awful architecture programs can be. You might be talking about a different kind of danger, but I know how to watch my back."
"Thank God," he murmured, kissing her again.
***
Other than a three month stretch where Eames was working in New Delhi, he tended to stop by every other week for a few days at a time. He didn't announce his visits and he had a key to her new apartment. It was larger than the old one and had more sunlight in it for working. Arthur had helped her find it and introduced her to the security team that wired the alarms and helped to create another viable identity for her. Ariadne simply thanked him and didn't mention the identity that Eames had put together for her; having a few to fall back on would only be beneficial for staying in dream share.
Eames looked immensely proud of himself when he pushed two sets of passports at her. It was almost a year after the Fischer job, and there was a vague air of nervousness about him. "What do you think?" he asked, grinning madly once she picked up the passports.
One was hers, one was his. Their last names matched. Ariadne looked up at him, eyebrow lofted in an unspoken question. "These are really good fakes."
"They don't have to be, exactly," he murmured, resting his hand along her thigh. "The names aren't what we were born with, but they can be ours."
"With the same last name," she pointed out. She wasn't going to make this easy for him. He would have to actually ask.
He actually got to his knees, kneeling in front her as she sat on the couch. There was that same proud yet shy smile on his lips, his blue eyes twinkling. "Ariadne, will you marry me?" he asked, sliding his hands up her thighs. "I can't promise it will be safe, and it's not something we can tell anyone about. But I want more than just a life in dreams with you."
Ariadne leaned in close and kissed his upturned mouth. "Jonathan LeClair, I will marry you," she said against his mouth, smiling.
"He's the happiest man in all of Paris, you know," Eames replied, pushing her back against the couch and spreading her legs wide so he could kneel between them. "Elaine LeClair is the most beautiful-" He pressed a kiss to her neck. "-brilliant-" He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "-loving-" He pressed a kiss over her clothed chest. "-and sexy woman there is." He moved down and let his mouth hover over her stomach, making her catch her breath expectantly. "I'm a lucky man, Ariadne." He smiled, and she could see the absolute honesty there. "This is like nothing I ever expected and everything I ever wanted."
Pulling him up, Ariadne kissed his mouth. "Flatterer," she teased. "I love you, too."
***
There was coffee and croissants when Ariadne woke the morning she married Eames. They left her apartment separately, and met at the courthouse with their forged documents. The courthouse staff were more than happy to serve as witnesses, and the papers were signed with gusto. Elaine and Jonathan LeClair exchanged plain gold bands, though afterward their locations moved. Eames slipped his ring onto the chain of his pocket watch, as if it was a charm. Ariadne moved hers to her right hand, and planned to eventually put it on a chain around her neck. It would be easier to hide the ring behind a scarf, or explain it away as her mother's. If not for the ceremony, they might not have even gotten rings. There really wasn't a need for it, after all.
Eames had half of her closet and two drawers in her dresser. His guitar was in the corner of the bedroom, and he had few other belongings that could be traced back to him. He still kept a separate room in a boarding house just outside of Paris as a backup. Ariadne knew where he hid the key and what the pass code for the outer door was.
Just as no one had realized when their relationship had progressed beyond friendship, no one had any idea they had gotten married. They preferred it that way.
***
"I can't believe you have a secret love of chick flicks," Ariadne teased, feet up in Eames' lap as they watched a movie together.
"This is very good research material!" Eames protested, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. "Look at all that emotional content! How else can I emulate it?"
She plucked the popcorn from her shirt and popped it into her mouth with a smile. "Face it, you're a romantic at heart."
"That's a filthy lie," he returned with a grin. "I will deny it with my dying breath. I'm a heartless criminal, I'll have you know. I have quite the reputation behind me."
"Of course you do, sweetie," Ariadne said with a laugh, rubbing his side with her toes. Eames laughed and grasped her ankle, tickling the sole of her foot. Her leg jerked, tipping over the bowl of popcorn. "Oi! That was a perfectly good batch of popcorn you spilled!"
"You tickled me!" she protested, leaning forward to swat his arm. There was no way to pull her foot out of his grasp, and they both knew it. She let out a shriek of laughter as he tickled her bare sole again, and twisted in his grasp. She wound up falling off of the couch, and Eames fell off of it on top of her. "Oof! You're big and heavy," she said, pushing at his shoulders.
"You do like that, darling," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her.
Ariadne wrapped her arms around him. "Maybe."
He kissed her again, a smile on his face. "Definitely."
"Smug bastard."
Eames couldn't help but grin at that. "Maybe."
Ariadne laughed and leaned up to kiss him. "Definitely."
He laughed along with her, then kissed her again. His tongue slid into her mouth and he had a hand in her hair. "You taste like popcorn."
"So do you," she said with a smile.
Nuzzling her neck, Eames chuckled. "I wonder what else you taste like."
"Why don't you find out?" Ariadne replied breathily, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
They were too busy to actually watch the rest of the movie.
***
"Don't stop," Ariadne whimpered, nails digging into Eames' shoulders. "There, there..."
Eames grinned, swiveling his hips. He opened his mouth to say something in reply when his phone rang. "Bugger. It's Arthur."
"Don't you dare answer that phone," she snarled, moving her hands to grasp his rear and pull him in. "I'm close..."
"He gets persistent, and he knows I'm not working now." Eames gave her an apologetic glance and slowed his pace slightly. "I've got to answer. It's probably a job."
"He can wait five minutes!" she cried, digging her fingers into his ass.
"Darling, we both know it'll take more than five minutes..."
"Not if you answer that phone!"
He picked it up anyway. "He'll be insufferable if I don't," Eames said with a sigh. He brought his hand between her legs and started to stroke her. "I suppose you'll just have to be quiet." Ariadne glared at him but bit her lip to keep from moaning at the sensation. He did know how to push her buttons this way, and Eames gave her a brilliant grin as he hit the answer button on his cell phone. "This is a most inopportune time, Arthur. It better be good."
"Hello to you, too," Arthur replied testily. "You're not working at the moment, right?"
"Depends on what you have for me," Eames said, voice even despite the wiggle in Ariadne's hips. Oh, she played dirty pool. She grinned at his flustered expression and did it again. Just for that, he flicked his fingers a little faster against her, and she had to put her fist in her mouth to keep quiet.
"I've got a line on an industrial espionage job. Not very complicated in scope, but I think having a forger on board would be best."
"Who's on the team, then?" Eames asked, biting back a groan.
"Williams is probably going to be able to do the extraction. Escajeda definitely can't."
"Wanker isn't any good anyway. I've worked with him before, and he can't memorize more than a page or two at a time. He can't run anything complicated."
"Good to know. He came recommended," Arthur said. Eames could hear some faint scritches of a pen on paper, and focused on that instead of the sensation of Ariadne shimmying beneath him or her fingers stroking his stomach.
"Who else?"
"Why? Is having you for the job contingent on certain people being there?"
"Or not being there, as the case may be," Eames replied. He sucked in a breath when Ariadne tightened and jerked her hips. Realizing that Arthur could hear that, he quickly covered it by adding "Not that my personal vendettas would complicate a job. I'm just being cautious."
"As well you should," Arthur replied approvingly. "I need to get a definite response on a chemist and architect."
"What about Ariadne? Her work was bloody brilliant." That comment earned him a smile and a tender caress across his stomach, and he grinned in response.
"She's first on my list," Arthur said with a laugh. "I liked working with her."
"Well, Yusuf isn't likely going to go into the field ever again, but you can probably try to chase down Nils Janssen. I've heard good things about his work and Yusuf thinks he's a passable chemist." Eames covered a moan with a laugh. "Coming from Yusuf, that's high praise indeed."
Ariadne merely grinned in response to his mock glare and shimmied her hips again.
"Thanks for the heads up. I'll start tracking them down. I'll get back to you with more details on this job as soon as I get them."
"Sounds good, Arthur."
Eames tossed his phone aside on the bed and leaned into Ariadne. "You are a naughty, naughty girl, Ariadne."
She bucked her hips against his and made him groan in response. "You love it, don't lie."
Laughing, he kissed her and started working on her in earnest. She came with a cry, arching beneath him. "I'm not done with you yet, love," he murmured against her jaw.
Her phone rang, and they both groaned. Ariadne reached for her phone and glared at it when she saw it was Arthur. "This was your idea."
"I didn't think he'd call you now!"
"Your turn for torture," Ariadne said smugly, hitting the answer button on her phone. Two could play at this game. "Arthur!" she said with a bright tone of voice. "So glad to hear from you again! How are you?"
She clenched her inner muscles at intervals or ran her nails along his skin as she chatted with Arthur about how he was doing and what the job would be. Eames managed to grit his teeth to keep silent, and he tried to play with her to get her to stop. Ariadne smacked his hand away and stuck her tongue out at him. When Arthur finally got off the phone, she tossed hers beside his.
"You are an evil, evil woman," Eames groaned finally. "Are you going to let me come?"
Ariadne gave him a push so that he fell to the side. She scrambled on top of him and readjusted their position. "Maybe. If you're good. And stop answering the damn phone while we're in bed together!"
"It was a job!"
"It can wait, dammit!" She bucked her hips and had her hands on his shoulders for balance. "You got that?"
"Yes, ma'am," Eames snarked.
Ariadne leaned down and kissed his lips. "Good boy." She grinned at him and then began to move in earnest. "Let's get you to come for me."
***
Their first argument was actually while on the job. In front of everyone else. Because he had to kiss another woman as he picked her jacket pocket, distracting her as he made a hand off to Arthur. Ariadne knew it was insane; the kiss meant nothing and it was a necessary distraction so that Arthur could copy the data from the phone onto a blank. At the same time, her gut had roiled and she had wanted to rip out the woman's eyes and choke her to death.
She possibly was a little possessive. Possibly. Maybe.
Ariadne had looked over at the dark haired woman in her tailored outfit and high heels, feeling inadequate.
Definitely jealous, then.
Their extractor wasn't as good as Dom Cobb had been, and he certainly wasn't any kind of brave. He excused himself and left the room as soon as Ariadne started lighting into Eames, using words like "whore" and "heartless, callous bastard" before storming out of the office space they were using. Arthur stared after her and then at Eames. "Well," he began slowly.
"I haven't been dressed down like that since the military," Eames remarked, sitting down at a random desk. He looked at Arthur evenly, trying to see if the point man could guess anything.
"She's still relatively new," Arthur told him, sitting down opposite Eames. "And she doesn't know the lengths that sometimes we have to go to in order to get the job done."
Eames scrubbed at his jaw, wondering how he had managed to win Arthur's sympathy. This was awkward, and for a moment he almost wanted to admit he knew why Ariadne had reacted the way he did. "I think I'd rather she just hit me and be done with it," he admitted with a smile. "Just get it out of her system so we can move on."
Arthur snorted. "That's not her style, you know that. We've been looking out for her, since no one ever really explained what the dream share community is like. She doesn't know how it can get. I for one would rather keep it that way."
"She's not fragile, Arthur," Eames remarked, even though he privately agreed with Arthur.
"I know that. But she doesn't have to see the darker sides of dream share, does she?"
"She would have our heads if she knew we were protecting her this way."
"I don't plan on telling her," Arthur told him pointedly. He took out his notebook and the copied cell phone. "The data was valuable. I should have a few leads on who you'll need to tail for this in the next day or so."
"Good to know the screaming match was worth it." He grinned and got up. "I'll go hide my face for a bit, then. I'll see you tomorrow, usual time."
He left Arthur to go work, and Eames put together a quick plan in his head. Dinner, flowers and a long discussion about what he would and would not be willing to do for the job now that he was married. There would likely be a lot of begging and pleading for her to understand the situation they were in, as well as reassurance that he only wanted her. He hadn't actually thought about how it would look to Ariadne, just as she likely hadn't thought she would have to watch him turn on the charm for someone else. She was usually pretty understanding, and Eames hoped that he could convince her that she was the only woman he had any romantic interest in. That would likely lead to sex. At least, he hoped it did. He couldn't exactly predict how Ariadne would respond. Just when he thought he understood her, she did something unexpected that yanked out the underpinnings of his mental construct of her. It was part of his fascination with her, but it made times like this damned frustrating.
Ariadne was in her hotel room when he broke in. The door closed behind him with a quiet click. She was curled on the bed in loose pajamas, eyes red from crying and tissues overflowing from the tiny wastebasket. She had ice cream with her and was watching some horrible action movie on TV, though he could tell her attention wasn't on the movie at all.
Scrapping his prior plan, Eames sat on the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry, Ariadne," he murmured, kissing her temple. "I'm sorry."
"I know you had to. I know I'm being stupid about this. I know she doesn't mean anything. But..."
"It's... Would it be horrible if I said this is actually nice?" he asked, smiling against her temple and holding her even tighter. "She doesn't mean anything. Which likely doesn't sound right, but it's the truth. It was a way to distract her, nothing more. I didn't mean to hurt you with this."
"Ass," she grumbled, pushing at his chest. "I know that. I do. But you looked into it, and it was awful to see that and know that I'm the one you married and we can't tell anyone!" She sniffled and finished off the last of the ice cream, which had mostly melted inside the container. "You're not having sex with me," she said defiantly, chin jutting out.
"But then you lose out, too."
"I'm pissed off at life," she said, smacking his chest. "I'm not in the mood."
"You're always in the mood!"
She smacked his chest again. "Out! As far as apologies go, this sucks!"
Eames sighed and pulled her even closer. He didn't care about the smear of chocolate on his shirt or the mascara streaks getting rubbed into his sleeve. He wasn't known for impeccable taste anyway, and he dressed mostly for appearance and rumor. "I love you, Ariadne." He said in low tones. "I wish I could tell everyone in the world without putting you in danger. I wish you didn't have to see that, so you wouldn't be this upset. I wish our work wasn't as dangerous as it is."
He could feel tears through his shirt and he merely rocked her. She clutched at his chest and remained silent. It wasn't forgiveness, exactly, but he knew that she wouldn't hold it against him when the tension bled out of her.
"You're beautiful," he whispered into her hair.
"I'm crying and awful and in crappy pajamas."
"You're real, Ariadne. You're real and you're beautiful and you're mine. No one else is."
She was quiet for a long time, and Eames simply held her. "I love you," she said finally. "I'm a complete lunatic for that, but I still love you."
"Well, good. I love you, too. I'd hate for that affection not to be returned."
Shaking her head, Ariadne simply burrowed closer to his warmth. Eames held on tightly and breathed in the scent of her. This was real, and this was exactly what he wanted.
***
***
To chapter 2!