Author's note: So this is my first fanfiction! I just couldn't this idea out of my head, and this is what my small idea turned into. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but no flames please. I am always up for correcting any mistakes, and if you guys have any ideas, I will always listen :) reviews are love! Hope you guys enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I, sadly, do not own Inception. That right belongs to the brilliant Christopher Nolan, who created it. I make no profit off of my stories, I simply write for fun :)

Passion. That's the only word she could think of to describe this kiss. Every nerve was on end, on fire, and it only seemed to be getting hotter. She pulled away first, eyes still closed, but stayed close enough to where she could still feel his warm breath tickling her cheek, where she could hear his shallow gasps for air. Sheepishly, she slid her hands out from under his shirt (when had those gotten there?), leaving a wake of goosebumps on his skin. His hands, however, still gently gripped her waist. Peeking through her eyelashes, she dared to look at his face. She was surprised with what she saw.

The point man's normal demeanor of cool, calm, and collected was anything but gone. A blush stained his normally pale cheeks, and his eyes sparkled with an unspoken mirth. A small smirk graced his lips. Was he..laughing at her?

She could feel a flush of her own beginning to creep up her neck, and she cast her eyes downward as the realization of what she had just done finally hit her.

"I'm sorry," Ariadne mumbled, taking a step back, ready to walk out of the room and forget how mortifying this situation had become.

Before she could take another step, she felt Arthur's fingers, slender but strong, wrap around her wrist. Ariadne could feel her blush deepen as he gently took hold of her chin, pushing it up until she reluctantly met his eyes.

"What would you be sorry for? Other than the bruises on my back, I should be fine," he teased.

And she had thought her face couldn't have gotten any redder. Vaguely (the memory was a little fuzzy), she remembered how their encounter had occurred.

Now on her sixth job with the team (minus Cobb), Ariadne was more than a little tired of this game with Arthur. The shy glances, constant teasing, and casual flirting weren't enough. She wanted more. She knew she couldn't say anything at work; both she and Arthur were too busy for that. That left either before or after work. She decided to corner him before; Yusuf didn't get to the warehouse until midmorning and Eames, well, he never got to work before noon. The only problem now was what to do; casually bring up the subject or just flat out ask him.

Turns out neither of those happened. Ariadne arrived at work at 7:00, 15 minutes before Arthur. Trying to plan what she was going to do or say, she failed to notice the brisk footsteps coming from behind her.

"Ariadne? What are you doing here?" Arthur asked, surprise evident in his voice. She spun around, gasping when she found him no more than one foot away from him. Her heart rate sped up, but not because of her shock.

"I..uh-I.."she stammered. All rational thoughts left her mind, and all she could think about was his scent: spearmint, cotton, and rain. Without thinking of what she was doing, what consequences could come from what she was about to do, she put her hands on his chest, pushed him none too gently into the wall, and met his lips in a searing kiss.

The details now vivid in her mind, she refocused on the man in front of her.

"It's not like you were complaining," she shot back.

"No, I suppose I wasn't," he murmured.

She was taken aback when she looked up; his eyes, earlier full of humor and laughter, were now filled with…lust? He looked at her, silently asking her for permission. She nodded, and before she could even grasp what was happening, his lips were pressed to hers once more. While their earlier kiss had been hot and passionate, this one was slow and sensual. Their lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle, meeting in every crevice and at every groove. She felt his tongue probing her closed lips, and she let him in, his tongue sweeping through her mouth. Her arms wound around his neck, and his around her waist, each pulling the other closer until the only thing separating them were their thing layers of clothes.

She let out a whimper of protest when he pulled away. He kept his arms around her waist, putting his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath.

"We have to talk about this," he breathes.

"I know," she replies.

Before either one could say anything else, the front door to the warehouse sprung open. Arthur and Ariadne sprung apart, but not before Eames saw them. He grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"About bloody time Arthur. Did you finally tell the girl how you feel? Took you long enough!" Eames exclaimed, merrily whistling his way over to his desk.

"Tonight," Arthur promised. He gave her a light peck before going back to work.

She smiled and walked over to the sketches, hopeful with the promise of what tonight could bring.