Ficlet: if we play our cards right we can be more than friends
This is a random little Inception ficlet for cunning_croft who is lovely and kind.
if we play our cards right we can be more than friends | Inception Arthur/Ariadne | G | 356
There’s a scrape of metal against concrete and then a thump as Arthur falls for the third time. Ariadne looks up from her drafting board to see him sprawled on the floor, having just missed the cushions Yusuf laid down, his lead tangled between his legs. Arthur’s one of the few men outside a corps de ballet she’s thought of as graceful - he has a fluidity to his stride and an economy of motion in his movements that she’s appreciated with an eye for form from the start - but it’s reassuring to know that he pratfalls with the best of them, all flailing limbs and then an awkward heap. Eames laughs.
“Again,” Arthur says, picking himself up quickly and settling back in the chair. That’s something to admire too.
Yusuf pushes him backwards and it’s another inelegant arc, but he almost sticks the landing this time. Ariadne grabs a fresh sheet of paper, writes in thick black marker, and holds it up for Arthur to see. He understands almost immediately, twitching a smile in her direction before turning to Yusuf and Cobb.
Later, on the way back to his desk, he pauses as if inspecting her work and murmurs over her shoulder, “Only a 7.2? Clearly the Canadian judge doesn’t want me to medal.”
Ariadne turns on her stool to face him. “Well, I might be susceptible to bribery.”
“Oh?” Arthur raises an eyebrow and leans in closer. “And what would it take?”
She hadn’t really - “Thai food. Tonight,” she says firmly. They’ve shared meals before, it’s fine, it’ll be fine.
But he hasn’t looked at her like this before, with intent. And he’s standing so close she’s caught between the desk and his body - and her instinct isn’t to lean toward her papers and pens.
So rather than let herself feel pinned, she takes a step forward in this dance they’ve been doing for weeks. She lets her knee brush against his leg, just long enough that he knows it’s not accidental. He colors and has to clear his throat.
Apparently there’s a not so literal way to put Arthur off balance. Good to know.
if we play our cards right we can be more than friends | Inception Arthur/Ariadne | G | 356
There’s a scrape of metal against concrete and then a thump as Arthur falls for the third time. Ariadne looks up from her drafting board to see him sprawled on the floor, having just missed the cushions Yusuf laid down, his lead tangled between his legs. Arthur’s one of the few men outside a corps de ballet she’s thought of as graceful - he has a fluidity to his stride and an economy of motion in his movements that she’s appreciated with an eye for form from the start - but it’s reassuring to know that he pratfalls with the best of them, all flailing limbs and then an awkward heap. Eames laughs.
“Again,” Arthur says, picking himself up quickly and settling back in the chair. That’s something to admire too.
Yusuf pushes him backwards and it’s another inelegant arc, but he almost sticks the landing this time. Ariadne grabs a fresh sheet of paper, writes in thick black marker, and holds it up for Arthur to see. He understands almost immediately, twitching a smile in her direction before turning to Yusuf and Cobb.
Later, on the way back to his desk, he pauses as if inspecting her work and murmurs over her shoulder, “Only a 7.2? Clearly the Canadian judge doesn’t want me to medal.”
Ariadne turns on her stool to face him. “Well, I might be susceptible to bribery.”
“Oh?” Arthur raises an eyebrow and leans in closer. “And what would it take?”
She hadn’t really - “Thai food. Tonight,” she says firmly. They’ve shared meals before, it’s fine, it’ll be fine.
But he hasn’t looked at her like this before, with intent. And he’s standing so close she’s caught between the desk and his body - and her instinct isn’t to lean toward her papers and pens.
So rather than let herself feel pinned, she takes a step forward in this dance they’ve been doing for weeks. She lets her knee brush against his leg, just long enough that he knows it’s not accidental. He colors and has to clear his throat.
Apparently there’s a not so literal way to put Arthur off balance. Good to know.