I'm Only Me When I'm With You
Series: Three Is More Than Just Company, AMTBR (peripherally)
Title: I'm Only Me When I'm With You
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur/Eames
Summary: It's just like any other relationship, really.
Disclaimer: If I owned it, would I be writing fic?
Author's Note: The Hogwarts houses scene is a fill for this kink meme prompt: community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/12989.html. Also, there's another reference in here - historical this time.
I'm only up when you're not down
Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground
It's like no matter what I do
Well, you drive me crazy half the time
The other half I'm only tryin' to let you know
That what I feel is true
And I'm only me
Who I wanna be
Well, I'm only me when I'm with you - I'm Only Me When I'm With You by Taylor Swift
In a lot of ways, it's like any other relationship, Ariadne thinks. Just because they're three and not two doesn't make them any different from other people in a new relationship, just figuring things out. She knows Arthur and Eames had... something before she came along, but she gets the impression that was more casual sex than anything else, so they're learning right alongside her. And even though they've been working together in close quarters for months, it's different now.
First of all, they're not living out of hotels all the time now. They've actually gotten an apartment - in San Francisco, because it seemed like a good idea - where they stay between jobs. It was something they'd actually started talking about before they got together romantically, a base for them to work out of, but once things changed it seemed like an even better idea.
One thing about having your own place is having your own kitchen. Arthur, as it happens, really can't cook. He proves this rather spectacularly one morning when Eames and Ariadne wake up to the sound of the smoke detector going off and rather... creative curses in several languages. They glance at each other before hurrying into the kitchen, finding Arthur glaring at something he's running water over in the sink.
“Um, Arthur...?”
He spins around, looking uncomfortable. “Oh, shit, sorry, didn't mean to wake you up.”
Eames walks over to see what was in the sink and gives Arthur an odd look. “Did you charcoal toast? How did you do that using a toaster? They have heat settings.”
“If I knew how, I wouldn't have done it.” Arthur sighs. “I really wasn't kidding when I said I can't cook, but I didn't expect toast to be this difficult.”
Ariadne moves to the coffeepot and studies the liquid inside carefully. “What about this?”
“Coffee I'm good at,” the point man assures her.
They end up having cereal that morning - and it's funny that each of them have different kinds - and Ariadne notes that it is true, Arthur makes fantastic coffee. But she and Eames decide to ban him from every other kitchen appliance except the microwave, because if he does that much damage with a toaster, they do not want to know what he'll do with a stove or an oven.
The kitchen is soon not the only thing with a ban attached. Ariadne will never understand how, when Eames can disable high-tech security systems in a minute or so, he can't work a regular computer. But he really can't, which is how their desktop - used only for recreational purposes, with laptops for actual work, following Arthur's suggestion - ends up locked.
“What did you do to it?” Ariadne asks, studying the black screen in bewildered amusement.
“I'm not entirely sure,” Eames admits. “I was just trying to change the background because that scene Arthur put up was terribly boring, and this happened.”
“OK, well... I took some computer classes in college, maybe I can...” Ariadne tries to fix it, but gives up when the thing starts making noises.
“Why is the computer making noise?” Arthur wants to know. He's been out, talking to a potential client and setting up a meeting with all three of them, and is now looking at the other two with raised eyebrows. “Eames, what did you do?”
“Why do you assume it was me? Maybe it was Ari here.”
“Hey!”
“Because I remember you crashing three laptops on the Tom Seymour job,” Arthur says dryly. “Mind getting away from it so I can see if the damage is reversible?”
It takes him two hours, but he fixes it. And Eames is threatened with dire punishment if he goes near it again.
Of course, there was also the laundry incident. Ariadne maintains it would never have happened if they'd only had the right supplies, while Arthur says that she should know how to use proper detergent by now. Eames just finds it funny.
The thing of it is, in college, Ariadne used those sheets. They're a new thing, basically dryer sheets only they have detergent in them as well. She's not sure how that works but as long as it does work she's not complaining. Or she wasn't. The downside to this - and to having parents so scattered between their kids and their research that they had to hire a housekeeper just to make sure chores got done at all - is that she doesn't actually know how to use regular liquid detergent. And she's pretty sure Arthur did the last shopping run, because all they have is regular detergent.
It can't be too hard, she tells herself, and pours some in with the load. She doesn't think it's enough to just do a capful, though, so she adds a few more. She leaves it to run for an hour and goes off to finish reading The Red Queen. Philippa Gregory's history may be way off at times, as her favorite uncle likes to rant about, but she's a good writer.
The first sign something's wrong is when she starts hearing a faint bumping noise coming from the laundry room. Frowning, she marks her place and goes to check... and finds suds all over the floor. “Uh-oh...”
Not thinking, she tugs the washer door open, trying to... Well, she's not entirely sure what she was trying to do, but the end result is that she's standing ankle deep in suds, and it's a good things she was barefoot and wearing shorts. She starts to trudge off to the hall closet to get a mop and bucket, only to be confronted by her lovers, who are standing in the doorway. Eames looks like he's about to burst out laughing, and Arthur just has an eyebrow raised.
“How much detergent did you put in?” he asks.
“Um... Five capfuls?”
Eames bursts out laughing and Arthur stares at her. “Ari, didn't you ever do laundry at school?”
“I used the three-in-one sheets.”
“Oh.” Arthur doesn't seem to know what to say, and neither does Ariadne. They really need to clean this up. But none of them move, and then suddenly Eames bends down, scoops up some suds, and splashes Arthur.
“You need to lighten up, darling. It's not a big deal.”
“What - Eames!”
It turns into what they later refer to as the Great Soap War, and it ends rather better than most wars do, with the three of them in bed cuddled together after some very fun exertions. It's a good memory. But they still don't let Ariadne do the laundry again.
~ ~ ~
Not everything is crazy mishaps, of course. There's Eames' experiments in the kitchen. He's as good of a cook as Arthur is a bad one. This is good because while Ariadne knows how to make certain staples of a college student's diet - ramen noodles, Easy Mac, and grilled cheese and pepperoni (she picked that one up from a roommate her sophomore year, a crazy journalism major who spent her spare time writing alternate historical fiction) - she can't really cook well either. She did make the sandwiches one day, and they both liked them, so that was something.
Eames promises to give her cooking lessons one of these days, and until then she's content to watch. She likes watching him cook for the same reason she likes watching him pick locks, if she's honest. Something about watching those hands, which she knows feel rough but can be so gentle, moving quickly to jimmy a lock or chopping a vegetable really shouldn't be so damn attractive, but it is.
She has a bit of a hand fixation, she realizes, when it's Arthur giving the lessons - this time on hacking - and her attention is on his long fingers tapping the keys rather than on what he's saying. Again, she can't help but think about what those fingers can do, ghosting along her skin, or less erotically, strumming guitar strings.
The afternoon she and Eames came back from a shopping trip to find Arthur sitting on the couch tuning an acoustic guitar was as much of a shock as the day when she and Arthur had come back from looking at some local architecture to find Eames in the kitchen for the first time. And they tell her they were just as surprised to find out how very good she is with the camera she likes to carry around when they're not working. She has pictures of them at San Francisco's tourist sites, of Eames in the kitchen and Arthur with his guitar, of all kinds of little moments in their lives.
She wishes she had pictures of some of their work exploits, but even the real world events can't be captured, in case they ever get caught. So the camera stays at home when they're working. It's usually fine, but sometimes, like when they end up having to lay low because the job's gone wrong and they're bored to tears, it's annoying. Ariadne hates being bored, so she resorts to rather silly tactics.
"But it'll be fun!" Ariadne says with a grin.
"College icebreakers are never fun, Ariadne," Arthur says, very seriously. "And we already know each other, why are we doing this?"
"Because we're stuck in a safe house and bored to death?"
"She has a point, darling," Eames laughs.
"I can't win," Arthur grumbles, shaking his head. Ariadne whacks him over the head, then settles back into her seat.
"So, you've just arrived at Hogwarts, which house do they put you in? Arthur, you first."
Arthur opens his mouth to refuse, but Ariadne gives him a puppy dog look, and he can't. "I'd say Gryffindor, but they're too reckless for my tastes. What's the other one? They wear blue, or something?"
"Ravenclaw," Ariadne said. "Oh God, you would be such a Ravenclaw, Arthur, I can't believe I didn't think of that!"
"What about you, Ari?" Eames asks, poking her leg with his toe.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe Hufflepuff. They always seemed so laid-back, I always thought they'd be working on arts and crafts all the time so they wouldn't mind me designing imaginary buildings. You know, we never mentioned Slytherin. I wonder if anyone would choose Slytherin."
"The villain's from there, so probably not," Arthur points out.
"I would," Eames smirks. "What's so bad about being sneaky?"
"Why does that not surprise me?" Arthur said, voice very dry.
"Oh, you love it, darling," Eames says, taking hold of the point man's tie and using it to drag the other man in for a searing kiss. Ariadne watches for a moment, enjoying the show, but then clears her throat. Arthur and Eames break apart, looking at her.
"You're not going to leave me out, are you?" she wants to know, mock-pouting. The boys glance at each other, then back at Ariadne, and the looks on their faces send the best kind of shivers up Ariadne's spine.
"Of course not," Arthur says. "We're just waiting for you to come over here."
She doesn't waste any time.
~ ~ ~
There are tense moments too. There's times when they're exhausted and Eames' humor or Arthur's straight-laced ways or Ariadne's cheerful carelessness make one of the others snap. Usually then two of them are shouting at each other and the third tries to play peacemaker, but sometimes it's a three-way shouting match. One time, a job goes horribly, horribly wrong, and it could have been any of their faults. Arthur missed just how much training the mark had - he knew the guy'd had some, but not to the extent he'd actually had it. Ariadne accidentally alerted the mark to their presence, and Eames didn't distract him with his blonde forge long enough.
They get back to the apartment and Ariadne doesn't remember what started it, but suddenly they were all shouting at each other, and other things get brought in. Other jobs that Arthur and Eames were on that went badly, little things at home that they've all allowed to build up, until she locks herself in the bedroom and hears the front door slam a few minutes later.
The next morning she comes out to find Eames sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of tea in his hands. “No coffee,” he tells her. “I can't make it for shit and Arthur didn't come back last night.”
“That fight, it was stupid,” she says, sitting down with an apple. “We all messed up, we shouldn't have blamed each other. And we really shouldn't have brought anything else into it.”
“No, we shouldn't have.” That's Arthur, who looks like hell - but then he would if he's been gone all night. She really doesn't like that but now's not the time to confront him. They don't need another fight.
“Well, it's over, I'd say we're all past being angry with each other, so don't worry about it,” Eames says.
“But I have to! I love you both, and I don't like it when we...” She trails off, surprising herself. They've never used that word between them, and as true as it is, it feels strange.
“That's not a question, Ari. We all know we love each other - or at least I thought it was obvious,” Eames says. “We're not going to fall apart over one fight.”
“Eames is right, you know,” Arthur says, though there's something in his eyes that Ariadne can't quite understand. “If we love each other, then we'll be able to make this work.”
“There's no 'if' here, darling. And you two can call me Sean if you want to.” Eames says it so casually, dropping the first name he never uses into the conversation like it's nothing. Ariadne and Arthur both stare at him, then Arthur shakes his head and Ariadne smiles.
“Maybe sometimes, but we wouldn't want to do that in public and have everyone know, would we?” she asks.
“No, I guess not,” Eames concedes. “And since we know your full name's Ariadne Regan, that just leaves Arthur here with a mystery last name.”
“Mystery? Hardly. You could find out easily enough,” Arthur objects.
“Or you could tell us,” Ariadne suggests carefully.
“It's not like it means anything to me. It's not like... Sean with only letting people he trusts use his first name. I just don't bother with it.”
They leave the name discussion at that, though Ariadne can't help but feel there's more to Arthur's reticence. But she doesn't want to pry, not now. They talk over what happened, and soothe the wounds left behind. They'll be fine, she believes that. Every relationship has its good points and bad ones, after all.
She's happy with them in a way she never imagined being. That's worth a few bumps on the road, as far as she's concerned. It's worth a lot more than that.
Next installment is here: fae-boleyn.livejournal.com/6683.html
Title: I'm Only Me When I'm With You
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur/Eames
Summary: It's just like any other relationship, really.
Disclaimer: If I owned it, would I be writing fic?
Author's Note: The Hogwarts houses scene is a fill for this kink meme prompt: community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/12989.html. Also, there's another reference in here - historical this time.
I'm only up when you're not down
Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground
It's like no matter what I do
Well, you drive me crazy half the time
The other half I'm only tryin' to let you know
That what I feel is true
And I'm only me
Who I wanna be
Well, I'm only me when I'm with you - I'm Only Me When I'm With You by Taylor Swift
In a lot of ways, it's like any other relationship, Ariadne thinks. Just because they're three and not two doesn't make them any different from other people in a new relationship, just figuring things out. She knows Arthur and Eames had... something before she came along, but she gets the impression that was more casual sex than anything else, so they're learning right alongside her. And even though they've been working together in close quarters for months, it's different now.
First of all, they're not living out of hotels all the time now. They've actually gotten an apartment - in San Francisco, because it seemed like a good idea - where they stay between jobs. It was something they'd actually started talking about before they got together romantically, a base for them to work out of, but once things changed it seemed like an even better idea.
One thing about having your own place is having your own kitchen. Arthur, as it happens, really can't cook. He proves this rather spectacularly one morning when Eames and Ariadne wake up to the sound of the smoke detector going off and rather... creative curses in several languages. They glance at each other before hurrying into the kitchen, finding Arthur glaring at something he's running water over in the sink.
“Um, Arthur...?”
He spins around, looking uncomfortable. “Oh, shit, sorry, didn't mean to wake you up.”
Eames walks over to see what was in the sink and gives Arthur an odd look. “Did you charcoal toast? How did you do that using a toaster? They have heat settings.”
“If I knew how, I wouldn't have done it.” Arthur sighs. “I really wasn't kidding when I said I can't cook, but I didn't expect toast to be this difficult.”
Ariadne moves to the coffeepot and studies the liquid inside carefully. “What about this?”
“Coffee I'm good at,” the point man assures her.
They end up having cereal that morning - and it's funny that each of them have different kinds - and Ariadne notes that it is true, Arthur makes fantastic coffee. But she and Eames decide to ban him from every other kitchen appliance except the microwave, because if he does that much damage with a toaster, they do not want to know what he'll do with a stove or an oven.
The kitchen is soon not the only thing with a ban attached. Ariadne will never understand how, when Eames can disable high-tech security systems in a minute or so, he can't work a regular computer. But he really can't, which is how their desktop - used only for recreational purposes, with laptops for actual work, following Arthur's suggestion - ends up locked.
“What did you do to it?” Ariadne asks, studying the black screen in bewildered amusement.
“I'm not entirely sure,” Eames admits. “I was just trying to change the background because that scene Arthur put up was terribly boring, and this happened.”
“OK, well... I took some computer classes in college, maybe I can...” Ariadne tries to fix it, but gives up when the thing starts making noises.
“Why is the computer making noise?” Arthur wants to know. He's been out, talking to a potential client and setting up a meeting with all three of them, and is now looking at the other two with raised eyebrows. “Eames, what did you do?”
“Why do you assume it was me? Maybe it was Ari here.”
“Hey!”
“Because I remember you crashing three laptops on the Tom Seymour job,” Arthur says dryly. “Mind getting away from it so I can see if the damage is reversible?”
It takes him two hours, but he fixes it. And Eames is threatened with dire punishment if he goes near it again.
Of course, there was also the laundry incident. Ariadne maintains it would never have happened if they'd only had the right supplies, while Arthur says that she should know how to use proper detergent by now. Eames just finds it funny.
The thing of it is, in college, Ariadne used those sheets. They're a new thing, basically dryer sheets only they have detergent in them as well. She's not sure how that works but as long as it does work she's not complaining. Or she wasn't. The downside to this - and to having parents so scattered between their kids and their research that they had to hire a housekeeper just to make sure chores got done at all - is that she doesn't actually know how to use regular liquid detergent. And she's pretty sure Arthur did the last shopping run, because all they have is regular detergent.
It can't be too hard, she tells herself, and pours some in with the load. She doesn't think it's enough to just do a capful, though, so she adds a few more. She leaves it to run for an hour and goes off to finish reading The Red Queen. Philippa Gregory's history may be way off at times, as her favorite uncle likes to rant about, but she's a good writer.
The first sign something's wrong is when she starts hearing a faint bumping noise coming from the laundry room. Frowning, she marks her place and goes to check... and finds suds all over the floor. “Uh-oh...”
Not thinking, she tugs the washer door open, trying to... Well, she's not entirely sure what she was trying to do, but the end result is that she's standing ankle deep in suds, and it's a good things she was barefoot and wearing shorts. She starts to trudge off to the hall closet to get a mop and bucket, only to be confronted by her lovers, who are standing in the doorway. Eames looks like he's about to burst out laughing, and Arthur just has an eyebrow raised.
“How much detergent did you put in?” he asks.
“Um... Five capfuls?”
Eames bursts out laughing and Arthur stares at her. “Ari, didn't you ever do laundry at school?”
“I used the three-in-one sheets.”
“Oh.” Arthur doesn't seem to know what to say, and neither does Ariadne. They really need to clean this up. But none of them move, and then suddenly Eames bends down, scoops up some suds, and splashes Arthur.
“You need to lighten up, darling. It's not a big deal.”
“What - Eames!”
It turns into what they later refer to as the Great Soap War, and it ends rather better than most wars do, with the three of them in bed cuddled together after some very fun exertions. It's a good memory. But they still don't let Ariadne do the laundry again.
~ ~ ~
Not everything is crazy mishaps, of course. There's Eames' experiments in the kitchen. He's as good of a cook as Arthur is a bad one. This is good because while Ariadne knows how to make certain staples of a college student's diet - ramen noodles, Easy Mac, and grilled cheese and pepperoni (she picked that one up from a roommate her sophomore year, a crazy journalism major who spent her spare time writing alternate historical fiction) - she can't really cook well either. She did make the sandwiches one day, and they both liked them, so that was something.
Eames promises to give her cooking lessons one of these days, and until then she's content to watch. She likes watching him cook for the same reason she likes watching him pick locks, if she's honest. Something about watching those hands, which she knows feel rough but can be so gentle, moving quickly to jimmy a lock or chopping a vegetable really shouldn't be so damn attractive, but it is.
She has a bit of a hand fixation, she realizes, when it's Arthur giving the lessons - this time on hacking - and her attention is on his long fingers tapping the keys rather than on what he's saying. Again, she can't help but think about what those fingers can do, ghosting along her skin, or less erotically, strumming guitar strings.
The afternoon she and Eames came back from a shopping trip to find Arthur sitting on the couch tuning an acoustic guitar was as much of a shock as the day when she and Arthur had come back from looking at some local architecture to find Eames in the kitchen for the first time. And they tell her they were just as surprised to find out how very good she is with the camera she likes to carry around when they're not working. She has pictures of them at San Francisco's tourist sites, of Eames in the kitchen and Arthur with his guitar, of all kinds of little moments in their lives.
She wishes she had pictures of some of their work exploits, but even the real world events can't be captured, in case they ever get caught. So the camera stays at home when they're working. It's usually fine, but sometimes, like when they end up having to lay low because the job's gone wrong and they're bored to tears, it's annoying. Ariadne hates being bored, so she resorts to rather silly tactics.
"But it'll be fun!" Ariadne says with a grin.
"College icebreakers are never fun, Ariadne," Arthur says, very seriously. "And we already know each other, why are we doing this?"
"Because we're stuck in a safe house and bored to death?"
"She has a point, darling," Eames laughs.
"I can't win," Arthur grumbles, shaking his head. Ariadne whacks him over the head, then settles back into her seat.
"So, you've just arrived at Hogwarts, which house do they put you in? Arthur, you first."
Arthur opens his mouth to refuse, but Ariadne gives him a puppy dog look, and he can't. "I'd say Gryffindor, but they're too reckless for my tastes. What's the other one? They wear blue, or something?"
"Ravenclaw," Ariadne said. "Oh God, you would be such a Ravenclaw, Arthur, I can't believe I didn't think of that!"
"What about you, Ari?" Eames asks, poking her leg with his toe.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe Hufflepuff. They always seemed so laid-back, I always thought they'd be working on arts and crafts all the time so they wouldn't mind me designing imaginary buildings. You know, we never mentioned Slytherin. I wonder if anyone would choose Slytherin."
"The villain's from there, so probably not," Arthur points out.
"I would," Eames smirks. "What's so bad about being sneaky?"
"Why does that not surprise me?" Arthur said, voice very dry.
"Oh, you love it, darling," Eames says, taking hold of the point man's tie and using it to drag the other man in for a searing kiss. Ariadne watches for a moment, enjoying the show, but then clears her throat. Arthur and Eames break apart, looking at her.
"You're not going to leave me out, are you?" she wants to know, mock-pouting. The boys glance at each other, then back at Ariadne, and the looks on their faces send the best kind of shivers up Ariadne's spine.
"Of course not," Arthur says. "We're just waiting for you to come over here."
She doesn't waste any time.
~ ~ ~
There are tense moments too. There's times when they're exhausted and Eames' humor or Arthur's straight-laced ways or Ariadne's cheerful carelessness make one of the others snap. Usually then two of them are shouting at each other and the third tries to play peacemaker, but sometimes it's a three-way shouting match. One time, a job goes horribly, horribly wrong, and it could have been any of their faults. Arthur missed just how much training the mark had - he knew the guy'd had some, but not to the extent he'd actually had it. Ariadne accidentally alerted the mark to their presence, and Eames didn't distract him with his blonde forge long enough.
They get back to the apartment and Ariadne doesn't remember what started it, but suddenly they were all shouting at each other, and other things get brought in. Other jobs that Arthur and Eames were on that went badly, little things at home that they've all allowed to build up, until she locks herself in the bedroom and hears the front door slam a few minutes later.
The next morning she comes out to find Eames sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of tea in his hands. “No coffee,” he tells her. “I can't make it for shit and Arthur didn't come back last night.”
“That fight, it was stupid,” she says, sitting down with an apple. “We all messed up, we shouldn't have blamed each other. And we really shouldn't have brought anything else into it.”
“No, we shouldn't have.” That's Arthur, who looks like hell - but then he would if he's been gone all night. She really doesn't like that but now's not the time to confront him. They don't need another fight.
“Well, it's over, I'd say we're all past being angry with each other, so don't worry about it,” Eames says.
“But I have to! I love you both, and I don't like it when we...” She trails off, surprising herself. They've never used that word between them, and as true as it is, it feels strange.
“That's not a question, Ari. We all know we love each other - or at least I thought it was obvious,” Eames says. “We're not going to fall apart over one fight.”
“Eames is right, you know,” Arthur says, though there's something in his eyes that Ariadne can't quite understand. “If we love each other, then we'll be able to make this work.”
“There's no 'if' here, darling. And you two can call me Sean if you want to.” Eames says it so casually, dropping the first name he never uses into the conversation like it's nothing. Ariadne and Arthur both stare at him, then Arthur shakes his head and Ariadne smiles.
“Maybe sometimes, but we wouldn't want to do that in public and have everyone know, would we?” she asks.
“No, I guess not,” Eames concedes. “And since we know your full name's Ariadne Regan, that just leaves Arthur here with a mystery last name.”
“Mystery? Hardly. You could find out easily enough,” Arthur objects.
“Or you could tell us,” Ariadne suggests carefully.
“It's not like it means anything to me. It's not like... Sean with only letting people he trusts use his first name. I just don't bother with it.”
They leave the name discussion at that, though Ariadne can't help but feel there's more to Arthur's reticence. But she doesn't want to pry, not now. They talk over what happened, and soothe the wounds left behind. They'll be fine, she believes that. Every relationship has its good points and bad ones, after all.
She's happy with them in a way she never imagined being. That's worth a few bumps on the road, as far as she's concerned. It's worth a lot more than that.
Next installment is here: fae-boleyn.livejournal.com/6683.html