This has been floating around my head since I saw the movie. I hope its not too terrible.

Disclaimer: Inception, Arthur, Araidne, etc. all belong to Christopher Nolan. I am simply borrowing his characters for some fanciful musings :)

"Arthur?"

Ariadne remembered the last time she saw the Point Man. The Fischer job seemed like a lifetime ago, yet the details of it was ingrained into her very soul. No one on the plane had said a word, but the elasion was palpable when Saito and Cobbs awoke. At the terminal, they all acted their part. Strangers, departing. Unknown faces disappearing in the recesses of their memories as passengers of the flight. Ariadne stood waiting for a taxi. Or perhaps waiting an answer to her lingering question, 'what now?' She never heard Arthur approach her, then again, she never heard a whisper of anything when he moved.

She had looked at him, flushing as she remembered their brush of lips. She wondered if he'd asked her to come with him. Or ask her to dinner. Except that he had done neither. He politely nodded his head in acknowledgement, as the taxi pulled up for them. He opened the door, and gestured for her to get in the cab. Ariadne followed in suit, and watched silently as he nodded his head once more, this time with his lips slightly upturned in a rueful smile, before shutting the door. Yet again, playing a part. A polite stranger. The car drove away, and Ariadne could not help but feel lost and a bit forlorn.

That was six months ago. Since then she had returned to Paris, and finished her degree. The money from the job, had suited her nicely while she waited to start a real job. A normal one, that doesn't defy the laws of reason. A job that didn't require her to create worlds and mazes. Her days were spent roaming the streets of Paris, memorizing the architechure, so that in her dreams she could recreate them and bend them at her will. She did this with pleasure and almost religiously. When she'd stop, however, she found herself in her dreams falling into a pool of deep chocolate eyes. Haunted, reliving that brief kiss. Never would she imagined him being on the otherside of her door.

"Ariadne? Are you going to let me in?" His soft amused tone broke her out of her shock.

"Oh! Im sorry, come in! Make yourself comfortable!" A million questions sprung in her mind. Why was he here? Was there another job? He looked impeccable as always. His three piece suit brown suit fit his lean body like a glove. His slicked back hair gleamed in her bright apartment lighting. Her fingers itched to run through the silk like strands. Thankfully, what ever semblance of control she had, refrained her from doing so. Her eyes met his, and she was surprised to see that behind that handsom jawline, and deep brown eyes, he seemed a bit unsure as he sat in her modest kitchen.

Arthur had caught up to her outside the terminal that day, but before he did anything out of character, like ask her to dinner, he had let her go. He told himself it was for the better. That he did not need a waif-like girl distracting him from his priorities. There were jobs to be done. Dom was given his out, but Arthur was very much in the game. But as hard as he tried, memories of his time spent with Ariadne would creep in at in opportune times. Making him miss the sound of her voice, her inquisitive nature, the way she would brush her hair behind her ears.

His last job with Eames had just ended, but not before Eames had caught a projection of Ariadne in the dream world. Instead of being angered at the job almost being botched, Eames laughed.

"Stop kidding yourself, darling. Go get her"

"Eames, your imagination has gotten the better of you again." Arthur busied himself grabbing the brief case, ready to make his exit.

"You can lie to me and yourself, but your subconcious..." He smirked. "It's clear with what it wants. Do something before she realizes she wants a man with more creativity."

So it led him here. To her apartment, wondering what the hell he was doing. Or better yet...what he was going to do now, that she has invited him in.