My Dear Mrs. Dixon (16/?)
Title: My Dear Mrs. Dixon
Rating: PG 15
Part: 16 of ?
Pairing: Eames/Ariadne
Disclaimer: I am just playing with Nolan's toys
Summary: The only sensible solution to their current problem is to get 'married' of course!
Author's Note: Written in response to a prompt at inception_kink that called for Ariadne and Eames to go undercover as a couple for a job. Another round of thanks to all you great readers! I hope you enjoy this part - the rating is climbing...hmmm!?
It takes Ariadne a moment to realize that the words have come out of her mouth. She hopes that she doesn’t look too surprised, and already she can feel Eames tense up slightly. She glances over her shoulder to find him looking at her with a sort of bewilderment. She knows he desperately wants to ask what she is thinking, and to be honest she will not have the answer if he does. Instead she turns back to their hosts and hopes that both she and Eames do not look too out of sorts. “That is if we can fit it into our schedule,” she adds. There she has given them an out - corrected her mistake.
“We can,” Eames assures them and now Ariadne is confused.
“Wonderful,” Collins claps his hands together, his grin wide. Vivian looks pleased as well, although more reserved than her husband. “Where are you staying?”
“The Four Seasons of course,” Eames rattles off.
“Wonderful. I do enjoy the cuisine at Le Cinq. We will meet there tomorrow then,” Collins says.
Ariadne knows for the fact that they are not staying at the Four Seasons. She knows for a fact that they are digging themselves in a hole and she feels a moment of panic overtake her. Her eyes must be impossibly wide because Eames is leaning forward, and placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll call Arthur.”
“Arthur?” Collins questions.
Oh shit. Ariadne immediately blurts the first thing that comes to her mind, “Our butler. To let him know that we may be delayed by a few hours. I like to have a hot bath as soon as I get home, no matter how long or short the trip.”
Eames is standing and there is a slight quirk in his mouth, almost a smile. “I’ll let him know of our altered plans. Will you all excuse me for a moment?”
Ariadne watches him head toward the terrace doors and wishes she could go with him. She does not relish spending the next few moments alone with the couple. “I am glad that we could work out a lunch together. Given how connected our families are through business it is only fitting that we get to know each other better.”
“Yes, I have a feeling that we can all become good friends.”
The words seem innocent enough but Ariadne can’t help but wonder if there is a hidden meaning behind them. She hates the way he looks at her, and even more so - she hates the way he doesn’t look at his wife. “Good friends,” she repeats hoping that between Eames and Arthur they can devise a solution swiftly. She wants to draw Vivian into the conversation, to steer the attention away from her and Collins. She makes a point of catching Vivian’s eyes. “Perhaps you and I can figure out a way to combine our charitable efforts.”
Vivian nods, “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
God Vivian give me more than that, Ariadne silently pleads. When the other woman stays silent, she stands as well. There is no way she is finding herself in another personal conversation with Collins “Will you excuse me as well? Arthur likes to keep to a tight schedule and can be testy if changes are made. Lucky for us, he is excellent at what he does so it more than makes up for the occasional outburst. Perhaps if I talk to him we can get this matter cleared up quickly and get back to enjoying our evening together.” She doesn’t wait for an answer; instead she heads through the crowd and the open terrace doors.
She finds Eames standing off to the side by himself. He is replacing a phone in his inner jacket pocket. He grins widely when he sees her. “Arthur the butler, darling? What will you give me to keep that little tidbit from our dear friend?”
Ariadne ignores the bait and instead sighs. “I am so sorry. I messed up. I should have never agreed to meet them for lunch tomorrow. I should have just kept my mouth shut.”
“Nonsense. Arthur was able to secure a suite at the Four Seasons…”
“Just like that?” She asks incredulous.
“We are very good at what we do,” Eames retorts. “Although Arthur is not happy with this latest development. I suspect you may find yourself on the receiving end of a lecture about sticking to well laid out plans sometime in the future. However, I am also sure that Arthur will be a lot less harsh with you then he was with me. Hardly seems fair considering it was your idea in the first place.”
“There is something…off about them. You’re not an idiot, Eames. I know you see it too,” Ariadne counters, her eyes on the door in case others decide to get a bit of fresh air.
“I do,” he confirms. “They don’t seem to be the picture of happiness reports make them out to be.”
“It might be the party - they might be reserved in public. It might be that they had a fight earlier and are just trying to keep up appearances until they can properly work it out. But I think if we see them again, under different circumstances we will get a better idea of what we are getting ourselves into,” Ariadne explains, happy that she has been fully able to voice why she has done what she has done.
“I am not questioning your instincts, love. They are turning out to be sharper than I had imagined. I was just taken aback that is all. You have done a good job throwing me for a loop tonight,” he tells her.
“And here I was wondering if I was doing the wrong thing, saying the wrong thing. No offense Eames, but I am never doing anything like this again. I keep worrying that we are going to get caught. I feel like I am going to jump out of my skin anytime someone speaks to me and I have to pretend to be Elizabeth,” she blurts out almost in one breathe.
“If that is the case, it doesn’t show. You are dong a fine job of walking the line between approachable and high society entitled princess. Collins seems to have taken quite a shine to you,” Eames points out, although he frowns at his own words. “Perhaps too much of a shine…”
“Put your inner caveman back to bed,” she tells him. “Punching him in the mouth for dancing with me won’t help us any.”
“No, but it would feel bloody spectacular.” Eames is glancing around and she wonders what he is looking at. “Good, we’re alone.” He is lightning quick, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her toward him. She squeaks in surprise and her feet are dangling off the ground. She is vaguely aware of a shoe sliding off one foot and clattering against the stone beneath them.
The kiss is hot, hungry, full of pent up lust they have inspired in each other so far this night. She is glad that her arms aren’t pinned to her side by his. She winds them around his neck as their lips clash. God, how she wants him right now…unfortunately, she can’t quite bring herself to pull him into the nearby bushes no matter how hot the image seems in her mind. She settles on kissing him, on pressing herself to his body. He pulls away first and she makes a noise of protest that quickly turns to a moan when his lips settle on the side of her neck instead.
Ariadne’s head falls to the side, her eyes opening slightly. She sees him now - Martin Collins standing in the doorway, watching them. Her eyes widen, and her body tenses. She places her hands on Eames’ shoulders to push herself away. “Collins,” she hisses in his nearby ear.
“This is becoming an issue,” Eames growls back in a hushed tone. But he dutifully sets her feet. She is lopsided without her shoe and places a hand on his arm so she can steady herself while she slips the red heel back on her foot. He is looking to Collins. “I would apologize, Martin, but my wife is a hard woman to resist and I am not sorry for that.”
Collins steps closer to them and Ariadne wonders how long he had been standing there watching them. She sticks close to Eames, her hand still on his arm. “Quite understandable. Newlyweds - I reckon you will be sad when the phase passes.”
“Oh, I doubt it ever will,” Eames says with a smile and Ariadne finds herself blushing at the thought. “Everything is set for tomorrow.”
“Wonderful,” Collins says. “I had come in search of you both because my clever wife has informed me that we are sadly neglecting some of our other guests. We are off to rub elbows. You two are free to enjoy some champagne. I would stay away from the grounds - there are cameras everywhere.” He gives them a sly grin before continuing. “Remember,” and now he is speaking directly to her, “you promised me another dance.”
Ariadne tries to ignore the way her stomach rolls at the thought. “I did,” she confirms and then breathes a sigh of relief when Collins disappears into the mansion. “For the love of God, fill my dance card and keep me away from him will you?”
“I am sure I can help you in that regard, love,” Eames promises as he offers her his arm. She accepts and together they walk back into the party. It is hard to believe that moments ago they were all over one another. She finds herself torn in two direction of thought - on one hand she is glad that Collins wandered into their little scene; she has never seen herself as the sex in public type but on the other hand she just wants Eames to touch her, to kiss her and to never stop. Even now as she watches him shake hands with a fresh batch of people hoping to meet Mr. Dixon part of her wishes she could just pull him out to the terrace again.
Offers of small talk and champagne, and requests for dances roll in with the crowd. Ariadne keeps a hold of Eames thankfully despite the crush. She finds that she is terrible at remembering names - especially when shot at her in rapid fire. However, she does her best to walk that fine line of approachable and privileged.
Ariadne is in the middle of trying to listen to an elegantly dressed old lady describe her wealth of recent health problems when Collins suddenly reappears by her side. She nearly jumps when he speaks, “I believe you owe me that dance now.”
Eames is there in an instant. “I am sorry, Martin. I know that it is polite to share and all but I think my wife and I are about to take spin ourselves. Perhaps the next one.” He doesn’t wait for a response. He simply guides into the throng of dancing couples.
She settles into his arms easily. “Thank you.”
A casual smile crosses his face. “You can thank me later.”