Everything That Is Real (Comes Around)

Part One

            Rome was hot in the middle of July but Ariadne found it hard to care. She was in Rome, a place she had only dreamed of visiting, and all it took to get there was walking into the airport and buying a one-way ticket on the spot. The inception job, while hard on her emotionally and physically, had filled her bank account with more money than she knew what to do with. That was nearly a year ago and the more jobs she worked the less she worried about the little things. She had almost no bills, her student loans were paid up, and she sent a reasonable check to her parents every month. Worrying about her next meal or when she would be able to go out and socialize were things of the past. Somewhere in the back of her mind Ariadne had known those things were going to be in the past the moment she stepped off of the plane, that her life was never going to be the same.

***

            As she watched Cobb vanish past customs it dawned on her that she had made no plans from this point on. The idea of going back to school was unappealing. Ariadne knew that after the dream world and all the time she had spent in it, going to lectures and drawing buildings rather than creating would be mundane. Ariadne reached into her pocket and closed her fist around the bishop. She thought about going home for a visit, she thought about traveling, and she was so deep inside her own head that she did not hear Eames sneak up behind her. “Eames, what are you doing?” she asked after jumping nearly ten feet in the air.

            “I think we all need a drink,” he said before sending nods to Yusuf and Arthur who joined them. “Drinks, boys?”

            “I guess I could kill a few hours before my flight back home,” Yusuf said, adjusting his bag over his shoulder.

            “What about you, love?” Eames asked looking at her and flashing one of his smiles that revealed absolutely nothing about his intentions.

            “I don't have anything else planned,” Ariadne confessed before looking at Arthur. He seemed to be having a minor staring contest with Eames before sighing and nodding.

            “Perfect, we'll meet at the bar in an hour. Which one are we going to?” Eames asked.

            “I know one. I'll send you both directions,” Arthur said and they all nodded before parting ways. Blinking, Ariadne thought about how she had to rent a car, find her way around a city she had never been to before and-- “Need a lift?” Arthur asked, ever the gentleman as he gestured toward the rental area, giving her a small smile.

            “I'd love one, thanks, Arthur,” Ariadne said and before she could stop him he picked up her bag and carried it along with his own. At the desk he spoke with the clerk and provided ID and a credit card before they handed him a set of keys. “Do you use your real name?” she asked as they walked through the lot.

            “Not usually. In this business it's about reputation. You get better paying jobs if people know who you are. For things like hotels and renting cars, things that leave a paper trail, then no, I don't use my real name,” he said as he stopped in front of a slick Italian sports car. Ariadne was hardly surprised. As they pulled out of the lot she thought about how silly she must look in such a lavish car sitting next to a man in a perfectly pressed three piece suit. The feeling of the wind as they drove along the road was enough to remind her that this was reality but nevertheless she kept the bishop in her lap.

            “Having doubts?” Arthur asked after a long silence.

            “I wouldn't go that far but it's a comfort to know for sure,” Ariadne replied. “Do you ever question things and need the reassurance?”

            “All the time,” Arthur replied with absolutely no hesitation. That surprised her a bit; it was hardly a sign of weakness but it also seemed like something that Arthur would not admit freely. Knowing that someone as on task and focused as Arthur sometimes doubted reality made her feel less silly about those lingering feelings in the back of her head.

            Considering who she was with, Ariadne had expected a high class bar surrounded by people who ordered wine off a list with no price. She imagined it would be something like the bar in the hotel she had designed for him and she was going to look completely out of place. When Arthur pulled up in front of a building with no windows and a single door Ariadne could not hide her surprise. Her confusion grew when he opened the door to reveal a hole in the wall bar. The lights were turned down low and with no windows it took her eyes a moment to adjust. There was a wooden bar off to the side and a table surrounded by half a dozen chairs in the middle. The few patrons turned and looked at them before going back to whatever they were doing.

            “Go take a seat while I get us some drinks,” Arthur said before walking up to the bar and speaking with the bartender in a hushed tone. Ariadne took a seat at the table and looked around wondering if she felt more out of place here than she would at a high class bar. He joined her a moment later before setting down a cape cod with a side of lime. She was about to ask how he knew her favorite drink but caught herself and realized that it was a stupid question. Arthur was the point man. It was his job to know things and it was naïve of her to think he would not know something as simple as her drink preference. He held up his drink to toast.

            “What are we drinking to?” Arthur asked and she had to think about it for a moment. 'To us' seemed too intimate even considering their kiss in the dream, 'to the weekend' seemed too juvenile, and 'to family' seemed stupid since she had no idea if he even had any family. Then it dawned on her and Ariadne held up her glass.

            “To reality and all its flaws,” she said and he nodded as they clinked their glasses together.

            “To reality,” he repeated giving her a small smile. Ariadne was a little relieved that Eames walked in only a little while later because she had no idea what she could possibly have to talk about with Arthur that would not seem stupid or related to the job. She really did not want to talk about it right now and work seemed like the only thing Arthur would talk about. The first thing Eames did was order a round of shots and bring them over to the table. He did not make a toast, he just raised his glass and they all downed the liquor. Despite herself Ariadne coughed a bit but tried to pass it off as a sneeze.

            “Why are we here, Eames?” Arthur said as the bartender walked over and set another round of shots on the table.

            “We just completed a job and now we're all considerably richer. Sounds like a good reason to drink to me,” Eames said and Arthur looked a little annoyed when the forger gave him a dark look when he didn't take the shot.

            “We shouldn't be going out together as a group; we should have separated at the airport,” he said and Eames shrugged.

            “We could have dropped into limbo and we're all still here. We got out without losing our minds or ourselves. We just implanted an idea in a man who is going to throw away everything his father built. I don't know about you but I don't see a better reason to drink,” he said in a serious tone. Images of limbo flashed in front of Ariadne's eyes and she took another sip of her drink, unable to come up with any counter to Eames' argument. Yusuf joined them a little later and Eames loudly announced that the last person to arrive was buying the next round. The chemist reluctantly agreed and before Ariadne could object there was another shot in front of her.

            They spent the next few hours emptying their wallets into the bar and talking about everything but the Fischer job. It was a little odd at first but after an hour or so Ariadne realized that this was not a celebration or even a coping method but more of a way of saying 'goodbye.' The odds of all of them working together, or even seeing each other again, were slim so they were saying their goodbyes now. So she laughed when Eames told the story of the heist where he first came up with the blond he used in the second level and how he met Cobb. Yusuf told them stories about the process of mixing some of the components and how the first time he used the sedative his cat got into it. Ariadne managed to tell a few stories about her more interesting college experiences and what it was like working under Miles. She shared the story of how she walked halfway across Paris with her old roommate after one too many drinks.

            “You seem to be holding your liquor better now, darling,” Eames said and Ariadne rolled her eyes at him.

            “I'm proud to know that I can fool a forger then,” she replied and that earned her a big smile. Arthur did not share any stories and she expected Eames to tease him about it but no one touched on the matter. Whenever she thought about asking him to share a story Eames would catch her gaze and shake his head ever so slightly. The hours fell off the clock and Yusuf stood, saying that he had to get back to the airport. Ariadne was not sure what to say so she muttered a low “thank you for the drinks” because that seemed like a good way to say goodbye. Arthur and Eames gave him a polite nod which he returned before the chemist turned and walked out of the bar. Ariadne knew she had had a bit too much to drink when she stood and nearly tripped over her own feet. In the bathroom of the bar she splashed a bit of water on her face and looked at her reflection. For a moment she thought she saw Mal behind her and turned in a panic. No one was there and Ariadne pulled the bishop out of her pocket and tipped it over. It fell the way it was supposed to and it made her heartbeat slow. When she walked back to the table Eames and Arthur were standing.

            “I need to take care of my tab--” she said digging into her bag but Arthur held up a hand.

            “I got it,” he said and for a moment Ariadne thought she saw Eames smirk.

            “I must be off. Ariadne, it has been an honor working with you.” He gave her a mock bow.

            “Very funny,” she muttered rolling her eyes. It was the closest to an actual 'goodbye' she had seen thus far. He winked at her.

            “Arthur, make sure you work on getting that stick out of your ass,” Eames said as he turned to leave.

            “As soon as you gain some focus,” Arthur retorted and Eames laughed as he walked out of the bar. “Come on, I'll drive you to the hotel.”

            “What hotel? I don't have any reservations anywhere.” Ariadne followed him to the door of the bar. He opened the door and held it for her.

            “I made an extra reservation at my hotel just in case,” Arthur said still holding the door. Somewhere in the back of her head Ariadne knew she should have been angry with him for assuming that she would not make any plans for herself. At the same time she could not claim any high ground because she had indeed forgotten to plan anything.

            “Your faith in me is astounding. Are you even good to drive?” she asked and he smiled as he got into the car.

            “I stopped drinking hours ago; you just didn't notice,” Arthur said as he started the car. They drove through the LA crowds until they pulled up in front of a large hotel. He handed the car off to be parked and carried their bags into the lobby. Ariadne was struck by how beautiful this hotel was structurally. It reminded her of a design that had been in her head for years. It was something that she would have killed to stay in even a few months earlier. Arthur joined her with two room keys and they went up the elevator to the top floor. When he opened the door to the room Ariadne could not contain her shock. The sitting room was nearly the size of her old apartment in Paris. There was a flat screen TV and a large couch with a small kitchenette off to the side.

            “This is way more than I can afford,” she said.

            “Consider it a gift for bringing Cobb back,” Arthur said and she turned to look at him. He smiled at her, a small warm smile, before he set her bag on the floor. “Have a good night, Ariadne.” With that he closed the door and she was left alone in a giant penthouse suite. The job, the jet lag, and the liquor all caught up with her so fast that she barely had the energy to change into her pajamas and crawl into bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

            The sound of someone knocking on her door drew Ariadne from a dreamless sleep and she had never been more thankful for no dreams. Sitting up she felt her stomach lurch and her head start to pound. “Great. Hangover,” she said as she walked out of the room and ran her fingers through her hair. When she opened the door she had to blink back surprise. Arthur was standing there looking as prim and proper as ever in a blazer and dress pants holding two plastic bags.

            “You look rough,” he said and Ariadne sighed. Clearly 'subtle' was not in Arthur's dictionary.

            “Did you come here to insult me, Arthur? Because if that's the case I'd really just like to go back to bed.” She tried to close the door but he put his foot out and stopped her..

            “I'm sorry, I'm here to help. I've got eggs, bacon and a bottle of Aspirin. Let me make you breakfast,” Arthur said and she looked at him through narrowed eyes.

            “You cook?”

            “I make no promises about the quality,” he said. She stepped aside and let him into the suite suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in her tank top and flannel pajama bottoms. If Arthur cared he did not say so. The counter facing the stove had high chairs that she sat on as she watched him get things together. The first thing he did was hand her two pills and a glass of water.

            “How do you know so much about curing hangovers?” Ariadne asked as he pulled out a frying pan and a bowl.

            “Eames was right about one thing; the best way to clear your head after a job is a good drink. Or ten.” Arthur broke two eggs into a bowl and started to scramble them. He moved to the sink to add a little water and she gave him a confused look.

            “Did you show up here with no clue how to do this? You don't even have anything to help with sticking on the frying pan,” Ariadne said standing and walking around to the stove and easing him out of the way. “Let me do this.”

            “I think I can handle it,” Arthur said trying to move her away but she stayed firmly in place. He seemed to realize that she was not moving, sighed and sat down on one of the chairs in silence. Ariadne continued to cook for a few minutes as he watched her before the silence became too much. “Why are you here, Arthur?”

            “Why? Why does it matter?”

            “You didn't even say goodbye to Cobb, Yusuf got a nod and you insulted Eames before they all left. You let everyone else just walk away but you're still here with me. Why?” she asked. Arthur blinked once without breaking her gaze.

            “Because I don't want to say goodbye,” he said without missing a beat, like it was obvious, like it was in flashing neon lights. Ariadne dropped what she was doing and walked around the counter to him. He was about to stand when she put her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was not like the kiss they shared in the dream, soft and quick, instead she pressed her lips against his hard. For a brief moment Ariadne felt a surge of absolute panic when he did not move and she worried that she had somehow stepped over a line or read this all wrong or something else where she was going to look like a complete fool. The hand on the small of her back as Arthur pulled her closer was enough to deter any doubts she had. Ariadne broke their kiss and rested her forehead against his, trying to calm her nerves. She had just kissed Arthur, Arthur had kissed her back, and now they were so close she could feel his heart beating.

“I need someone I can depend on out in the field.”

            “Are you asking me to be your partner?” Ariadne asked, moving back so she could look him in the eye. Arthur smiled.

            “Absolutely.”