Been a long time since I last posted something, and I'm so glad for the time to do it now. This has been swirling in my head since I saw the movie. For now, this is a one-shot, but my husband is talking about seeing it again, so depending, there might be another chapter or so pop up sometime. But for now, please enjoy!

Rated M for sexual content.

I don't own a single person from or thing about "Inception." I just borrow and dabble.

Summary: After the events of "Inception", Ariadne has trouble returning to her previous life, longing for what she once had, and finds the one person she misses most.

It had been two months since the Fischer job. The team had gone their separate ways from the airport without such much as a word, disappearing into the streets of Los Angeles. She wasn't even stateside for two weeks before finding herself back in Paris.

Graduate school. She couldn't say it was entirely her idea, but it certainly beat getting a real, honest-to-god job. And there really wasn't any better place to be a student than Paris. It was still on a daily basis that she marveled at the beauty of the city.

It was second nature to notice details now. Textures, shapes, tastes, smells. All the details that were taken for granted every single day were suddenly so important as a dream architect. Even if the work hadn't been strictly legal, the habits she developed from her short stint were sticking with her. She never left the house without her totem.

Earlier this week the news of Robert Fischer dissolving his father's energy empire went public. Ariadne had about choked on her coffee and spewed it all over her friends and the newspaper as she read the headline. God what she wouldn't give to have anyone from the team—Cobb, Yusuf, Arthur, even Eames—around to celebrate with. Her friends had been most incessant to know why she was so excited about the headline, and she had a hell of a time coming up with a convincing lie. She still wasn't sure they entirely bought it.

The early fall breeze whipped down the street, blowing the hem of her linen charcoal skirt about her knees as she walked. The industrial neighborhood hadn't changed a bit. Not that she really expected it to in only two months. She rounded the corner, the frame of the familiar warehouse making her smile. It felt like an eternity had passed since she'd last been here.

God how she missed them all. Arthur the most if she was being completely honest. He showed her so much, opened her mind to so many new possibilities in such a short time. She had principally worked with him during the planning phases of inception and had grown used to his clipped, fastidious manner. It was so unlike her, and she found it dreadfully sexy. Maybe that's why she missed him more—he wasn't like the others. And after all, she had kissed him. Never mind she felt like a fool for trusting him at the time, but that slight tease of a memory lingered more than the rest.

She reached the door of the warehouse, a longing smile on her face. She glanced up at the windows, wondering what it was currently being used for. The key she held in her hand suddenly felt heavy as she stepped forward to see if it still fit the lock. She waited on baited breath, her smile returning as the door swung open. The room had the same sparse look as she remembered—a few tables, chairs, lawn furniture.

She couldn't even begin to track the number of hours she'd spent here, pouring over diagrams and models, her brain let loose with creative freedom under Arthur's ever watchful eye. She wandered throughout the room, wondering where they were, what they were up to, if any more heists were planned. She longed to be part of that world again. Real life, grad school, a 9-to-5 job—she hadn't yet figured out how to go back after inception.

She ran her fingers along the edge of the waist-high work table, surprised to not find a thick coat of dust. Could someone still be working here? She quickly glanced around, not seeing any evidence of recent activity—no silver suitcases, no food packaging, no tools strewn about the table. She turned, backing up to the table and hopping up to sit, glancing around with a sigh. If someone from the team was still working here, it would just be too good to be true.

Her eyes widened, breath catching in her throat as she heard someone outside fidgeting the lock. The door swung open wide, Arthur's curiously alert face scanning the room. He stopped when his eyes landed on her, her mouth upturned in a slight smile.

"Ariadne?"

"Hi Arthur." She said casually, her voice even despite her excitement at actually seeing him again. He stepped fully into the room, indicative silver suitcase in hand, closing the door behind him. His face relaxed to a look of surprise, a barely noticeable smile across his face.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question. I would have thought you would stay in the states." She wasn't sure why she said that, realizing she was rambling. "I'm, uh, actually here for grad school." An unwanted blush crept to her cheeks, as though she was embarrassed to admit grad school to him. Or was it that she couldn't keep her eyes off him—his three-piece black suit, dark blue shirt, and charcoal-gray-blue tie fit his body in all the right ways she remembered.

"Good for you," he said, reaching the work table, resting the case on the tabletop a few feet from her, "although, if I remember correctly, you don't need it," he accented his words with a little shake of his head, "your skills should easily land you a job."

"But I don't have a way to prove it to anyone. I can't exactly go around putting the work from inception on my resume."

"No," he agreed with a soft chuckle, "no you cannot." She heard the rustling of cloth, and turned to see him shed his suit jacket, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt to just under his elbows. "But why are you here—you still haven't answered the question."

"Homesick I suppose." She flatly answered, much to his surprise.

"It does get to feel that way—the personal nature of the work, the people on the team—it never really leaves you," his eyes fell almost reverently to the silver case, running his fingers along the edges, "there's not really anything quite like it."

"That's why I'm here," she admitted, "I want the feel of those days back. I wanted to remember." He raised his head, eyes sharply locking to hers. They were just as brown and beautiful as he remembered.

"If you came here hoping to live your life in dreams of the past, you'll find yourself sorely disappointed. Your life has more to live for than that."

"That wasn't what I was going for." Her face relaxed into an embarrassed little smile, tearing herself from his eyes before she drowned. "Same question can be asked of you, you know—why are you here? You're not still in the business are you?"

"No," he said, respect on his voice, "Cobb was the best. Working with anyone else would fall far below past experiences. Best to go out on top." He opened the case, revealing the familiar buttons and tubes.

"But you're obviously still working in the realm of dreams, so what do you do?"

"I work for the good guys, if you will," a small forced smile came to his face, "training those like Fischer how to defend themselves if they find their dreams under attack."

"An appropriate job for an ex-point man. What do the others think about you telling everyone their secrets?"

"I haven't heard from the others since Los Angeles."

"Did Cobb make it back to his kids?"

"I like to think so. You were there when he passed customs at the airport. Like you, I haven't seen or heard from him since.

"Seems strange—you two worked together a long time, didn't you?" A look of fondness unlike any she'd seen before softened Arthur's eyes.

"More years than I can remember. It feels like a different lifetime, with dream time moving faster than real-world time. I wish I could say my current work is as fulfilling, but it doesn't come close to measuring up." God he could not keep his eyes from her. He had missed her more than he cared to admit. And even though the space he worked from was a constant reminder of his past life and work, here was living, breathing proof that it was real.

Instinctively, he reached a hand into his pocket, hefting the loaded die in his hand. She noticed his hand move, her eyes returning his.

"Checking your totem?" She asked knowingly, reaching into one of her skirt's pockets, fingering her own totem.

"Yes," he plainly admitted, "it is a pleasant surprise to see you again...," she froze on his words, her heart fluttering, "one that I would not put past dreaming about." She pulled her brass chess piece out of her pocket, flashing it to him.

"You're not dreaming…," she moved the totem back to her pocket, glancing away, hoping she could bring herself to say the words, "those months ago, in the hotel dream level, you asked me to kiss you," she turned back to him, a curiously playful look to her eyes, "why? You knew it wouldn't distract the projections." He reached a hand out to rest on the table, shifting closer to where he could almost rest on his elbow, bringing himself closer to her in the process, watching her eyes intently watch him.

"Simply because I wanted to." The honesty in his handsome eyes was overwhelming, the tone on his voice so smooth. She felt like melting, a dull throb growing between her legs at the simple conviction of a man who knew what he wanted. "And as I recall, you didn't even hesitate." His voice had dropped to a softer tone meant only for her.

"Well I-I thought…," she stumbled over the words, mortified he had her so undone when he was so composed, "I didn't hesitate because I believed you knew what you were doing…and as observant as you are, you have to see how I look at you."

"Mirrors my looks for you I imagine." His breath whispered across her cheek.

"Just kiss me Arthur." Her words barely ended before his lips pressed against hers. Soft, tentative, exploring kisses. She drew in a sharp breath, a hand reaching out to rest on his arm as he gently sucked her lip, edging it with his tongue. Fire spread through her body as his lips devoured hers, seeking entrance with his tongue until she yielded and their tongues met. All at once she needed to feel him, shifting and spreading her legs until he stood in between them, wrapping her arms around his waist to draw him right up against her. His hardened want pressed right where she wanted him most, their kisses increasing in intensity and passion, losing themselves in the feel of the other person.

Her hands traced up and down his lean form, reveling in the feel of his hard body so solidly against her. His lips left hers in a series of short kisses down her jaw, settling on her neck, his hand tracing the curve of her breast, teasing her through her shirt. A moan escaped her, vibrating against his nose, as his hips jerked against hers, desperate for her touch. His hand moved down her torso, skimming over her hips to meet the skin of her leg below her skirt. He started inching up her skirt, tracing the new smooth skin with heated desire. She met his lips again, past the point of no return as his fingertips brushed against her heated sex. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he felt her damp desire through the thin fabric.

Her hands moved around from his back, settling on his belt buckle, wanting so much more. He seamlessly lifted her from the table long enough to pull her underwear free as her fingers worked to free him, breath leaving him as she grazed his bare tight skin. She pulled him flush against her, ready for every inch of him. One fluid push and the breath left them both, slumping against each other at feeling their bodies so connected. He pulled out, pushing back in deeply, slowly.

"Oh god Arthur…" He sealed his lips to hers, continuing slow thrusts, determined to enjoy her as long as he could. Her whimpers for breath increased as his pace picked up, both desperately seeking release only the other could give. She felt herself tightening around him, her mind slipping away as she gripped him harder, tighter. Suddenly his hold on her stiffened, a guttural moan in his throat as release engulfed him. God he was never going to let this woman go.

His eyes drifted open, reveling in her pounding heart against his chest, listening to her breaths evening out. He nuzzled her neck, the smell of her soap filling his nose as he kissed her neck gently, feeling her lips mimic the action. Loosening his hold, he pulled back to meet her eyes, loving the shroud of euphoria in their chocolate depths. She leaned in, kissing him softly, soundly, unable to find words.

"I, uh," he laughed softly to clear his throat, an impish smile revealing dimples she'd never before seen coming to his face, "I guess we did that backwards."

"What do you mean?" She stiffened in his embrace, bracing for his next words.

"Well, I should have taken you to dinner and a movie first, and then back to my place for this." A smile of relief washed over her face as she hugged him tight.

"Next time, point man," she pulled back, resting her nose against his, drowning in his eyes that saw only her, "I'll hold you to it."

Fin.

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