[fic] ain't it nice to see me again
Fandom: Inception
Title: ain’t it nice to see me again
Rating: T
Warnings: A little bit of language and off screen sex, but nothing major.
Pairings: Ariadne/Arthur
Word Count: ~2600
Disclaimer: Inception belongs to Christopher Nolan; I’m just borrowing. Title is form 38 Special.
A/N: I started this right after I saw the movie, and then forgot about, and then proceeded to finish it after a twelve hour Red Bull and studying binge. So, yeah, it’s choppy and not my best and there’s not really any plot. But it’s done, so.
Summary: Outsider POV. In serious times, they were the type of friends that would die for each other. In not so serious times, they gossiped about each other. Ariadne’s roommates speculate about her absent boyfriend.
They’re sitting in a sidewalk café (drinking coffee and eating chocolat au pain, stereotypes be damned) when it comes out. Trixie is twirling a lock of her honey brown hair and saying how do you think I would look if I died it blue and Mina mentions she has a date on Friday. Beautiful, tall, dark skinned, legs a mile long Mina who is always so serious and studious and has no idea the effect she has on people. It’s said quietly, like she’s confessing to a murder.
Trixie slams down her coffee and crosses her hands over her heart. “Mina,” she breathes, “I’m so proud of you. Our baby,” she says, flashing a smile at Diane, “is all grown up.”
Despite herself, Diane can feel her lips tugging up in a smile. Trixie, who flirts with anything and everything that moves, is constantly urging Mina and Ariadne to loosen up, and Diane agrees with her more often than not. Their roommates are way too serious, always embedded in their work; Mina going on a date of her own volition feels a little bit like making it to the moon.
Mina and Ari are quietly chatting when Trixie’s eyes sharpen in on Ariadne. “You know,” she says innocently, “now that Mina has a boyfriend, we could quadruple date. Except. . .” she trails off significantly.
Ariadne blushes. “No, Trix. You’re not setting me up with someone.”
“It would be easy. Just one phone call.”
“No.”
“I know the perfect guy-” Diane can see the annoyance building in Ari’s eyes; sometimes Trixie can come on too strong and she always knows how to push exactly the right buttons.
“I’m already seeing someone, thanks.” Ariadne immediately looks like she wants to take it back and Trixie’s mouth widens into an “O.”
“. . .What? Who? When?”
Ariadne looks pained, but answers anyway, and Diane wonders when her roommate got so private. “We met on the internship I did for Professor Miles in L.A.,” she says, and that explains part of it. Ariadne is tightlipped about the sudden internship she got into last spring; it was at an architectural giant in the States that most students would have given their right arm to do, but Ariadne actively avoids talking about it. “We’re keeping it long distance. He travels for work a lot. It’s low key, ‘s why I didn’t say anything.”
“Any chance he’ll be swinging ‘round Paris anytime soon, so we can meet him?”
“Doubtful,” she says, and from her voice it’s clear that the discussion is over, let’s move on, thanks.
Trixie lets it slide, but she still has that gleam in her eye that says she’s found a new project, and a bad feeling swells in Diane’s gut.
~
Later, when Diane tells Lumah what happened, her girlfriend raises an eyebrow. “Ariadne is. . .how do y’all say, ‘not talkative,’” she responds in heavily accented English.
“You say. Only rednecks say ‘ya’ll,’” Diane corrects absentmindedly. Out of the half a dozen or so languages Lumah speaks, English is her newest and thus worst. She always insists, therefore, that Diane and Diane’s friends address her in English until she perfects her accent and diction. Lumah is practically fluent now, but her English is an odd mix of ultra-proper textbook grammar and Southern dialect she’s picked up from Trixie.
Lumah mouths her neck playfully, a smile in her voice. “Still, it is not unsurprising she would keep an unserious relationship from you.”
“If she likes him enough to keep it going long distance, it has to be a little serious.”
“I’ve decided,” says Trixie, bursting into the room that she and Diane share, “that he’s ugly as hell.” She rolls her eyes as Diane and Lumah squawk and scramble for whatever clothing they can find. “Oh, please. I have tits too, remember? Nothing I haven’t seen.”
“Trixie, if you would kindly-”
“Get out, Trixie,” Diane fairly shouts. Trixie huffs and leaves. When they emerge-fully clothed-a few minutes later, Trixie is waiting at their kitchen table. “So as I was saying-”
“Were you eavesdropping,” Diane asks, both furious and embarrassed at the thought of what Trixie could’ve heard. She and Lumah hadn’t been exactly quiet.
Trixie rolls her eyes again, and gestures to her sports bra and way too tiny running shorts. “Relax, I just got back; missed all the interesting stuff. Besides, you know these walls are paper thin.” Diane does know this, mostly from Trixie’s endless parade of one night stands. “Anyway, as I was saying: I think he’s ugly. Or dumb. Or both. That’s why Ari hasn’t mentioned him.”
Lumah shakes her head. “No, I still think that Ariadne is merely-”
Trixie leans in close. “She’s been dating him for almost a year, Lumah. Even I couldn’t have a casual relationship with someone that long. Not a sexless, long distance one.”
There’s a throbbing in Diane’s temple, a natural side effect of being around Trixie too long. “Maybe she just wants to keep it quiet? Ari is just private; she won’t make a big deal about something until it’s a big deal.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out either way.”
“What? Why?”
Trixie looks fucking ecstatic. “Next month’s graduation. He’ll have to be there.”
~
“He’s not coming.”
Ariadne says it brusquely, businesslike. “Arthur” is apparently busy working, and will not be able to make it Paris next month. Before they can question her further, she claims she has a meeting with Professor Miles and leaves.
“His name is Arthur. Arthur. He probably comes with a built in pocket protector. I’m telling you there’s a reason she doesn’t want us to meet him.”
“She sounded sad,” Mina says slowly, like she’s just realizing something.
Diane shrugs; even she’s feeling a little disappointed.
~
“Oh my god.”
Mina is standing in their doorway, wearing something very tight and very shiny. “We are going out for drinks,” she says, not even wobbling on the six inch stilettos she’s apparently pulled out of her ass. “Just the four of us. Get ready.”
“Oh my god,” Trixie repeats slowly, “who was she and where did she get that dress?”
“I figured it was one of yours.”
“Hell no. Red makes me look splotchy.”
“Well, I guess we shouldn’t ignore the woman’s orders.”
Half an hour later, when Diane and Trixie emerge transformed, they hear a low argument coming from Mina and Ariadne’s room. Trixie puts a finger to her lips and Diane rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything quite yet.
“. . .I’m tired Mina. Rain check, okay?”
“I’m not taking no for an answer, Ari. We’re going out.”
Diane heads into the room, ignoring Trixie’s grunt of protest. “Ari, Mina has emerged from her desk dungeon and willingly put on makeup. This is cause for celebration.”
Ariadne glares at her. The closer they got to graduation the more the brunette seemed to be on edge, and Diane had a good feeling as to why. “Come on,” she whispered, putting as much pathetic whine in her voice as she possibly can, “please, Ari?”
Ariadne glares. “Fine.”
~
Several, several Cosmos later, Ariadne is a little perkier. When Trixie asks her about her missing boyfriend she actually snorts.
Stranger things have happened.
Maybe.
“Fucking asshole. He knew how much it meant to me for him to be here next week, and what does he do? ‘Sorry, Ariadne, a job came up unexpectedly and I had to take it.’ Asshole,” she repeats, signaling the waiter for another drink.
“Is he ugly,” Diane slurs, and wow, she can’t believe she said that out loud, damn drinks, “because Trixie thinks he’s ugly.”
“No,” says Ariadne. “He’s . . .He’s fucking beautiful. Like an angel. An Armani angel.”
~
Two nights later, previous hangovers completely forgotten, they find themselves back in the club. Minah and Steve have snuck off somewhere, and Trixie and Ariadne are giggling and flirting at the bar. Diane and Lumah head towards the dance floor, swaying and grinding and being alive.
Lumah stiffens from where’s she buried her head on Diane’s shoulder. “Diane,” she says tensely. “Look.”
Diane spins them around so she can get a look at whatever’s caught Lumah’s attention. Trixie and Ari are still at the bar, and there’s a man talking with them. He’s quite handsome: tall, dark haired, impeccably dressed in dark tailored jeans and an expensive looking leather jacket. Unsurprising, but what does come as a surprise is that he’s completely ignoring Trixie’s stilettos and push up bra, completely focused on Ariadne instead.
And it’s even more surprising when he takes her hand and leads out to the dance floor.
Trixie appears at their side moments later. “I have no fucking idea what just happened. I fucking hate feeling this way.”
Lumah furrows her eyebrows. “Who is he?”
“Hell if I know. He talked to her for like five minutes, but you’d think he was Prince Charming, the way she was giggling. I’d almost wonder if he didn’t screw with her drink, only I was watching him the whole time.”
The subject of the discussion herself is suddenly there, flushed and grinning like a loon. “I’m going home, you guys. I’ll see you later!”
Diane frowns. “Ari, don’t go by yourself. We’ll-”
“Oh, I’m not going by myself.” She nods jerkily to where Mr. Motorcycle Jacket is standing. “I plan on having company tonight.”
Wait, what? “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What about Arthur?” Far be it from her to meddle in other people’s business, but somehow Diane doesn’t think sleeping around is the best way to get back at one’s absent boyfriend.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll handle him,” Ari laughs, then trounces off before they can stop her.
Lumah sighs. “Oh, my.”
~
She and Trixie are getting ready for bed later that night when the door flings open, admitting a pale looking Mina. “Oh my god,” she breathes.
“Are you okay?” Diane frowns.
“Jesus, they’re. . . ohmygod I walked in on them going at it.”
Trixie suddenly looks wide awake. “Who, Ari’s mystery man? He’s still here?”
Mina nods faintly. “Why oh why did I not stay at Steve’s,” she moans.
“Wow,” Trixie says.
Mina flops on down Diane’s bed, burying herself under the covers. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”
Diane sighs. Mina kicks like no other. “Can’t you sleep with Trixie instead?”
Mina glares from underneath the covers. “I’ve already been traumatized once today; I’m not going to be molested by Trixie in my sleep on top of everything else.”
~
Diane stumbles into the kitchen earlier than usual the next morning, a solid bruise forming on her right calf. Fucking Mina. She stops for a second, bemused by the smell of pancakes-Diane’s the only one of her suitemates who can mess around in the kitchen without burning the apartment down-and then freezes when she sees who’s in the kitchen.
It’s Ari’s mystery man, cracking eggs like he owns the place.
He turns around-he must have good hearing, she thinks absentmindedly, because she didn’t make a sound-smiling at her, and, wow, even she can appreciate a guy with a smile like that. “I’ve got crepes; the eggs Benedict is almost finished.”
Diane eyes him warily, sinking into a chair at the table. “Why are you making breakfast?”
He shrugs lightly. “I thought I’d be a good houseguest; make breakfast for Ari’s friends.”
It’s too much, this one night stand using Ariadne’s nickname and rifling through their kitchen. She wants him gone, now. “She has a boyfriend, you know.”
The man raises an eyebrow, looking amused, but Diane can see the slight drop of his hand as he delivers a perfectly poached egg onto a muffin. “Does she now. She didn’t mention that.”
“Yes. His name’s Arthur, and . . .and he’s a world class architect.” Actually, Diane isn’t sure what Arthur does but it’s not like this guy will know the difference. “He’s flying in tomorrow for graduation; he had a huge business deal to close before he could come.”
“I see. She told you this?”
“Yes.”
“And did she also tell you that her boyfriend flew in to see her after saying he couldn’t make it so as to her surprise her?”
Heat rushes into Diane’s face as things suddenly piece together. Oh. . oh dear.
“Diane! Are you making-“ Trixie’s words die off as she skids into the kitchen, taking in the stranger. “Oh.”
“Trixie,” says Diane slowly, “this is Arthur.”
~
“You,” Trixie says to Arthur, twirling a cherry stem on her tongue, “are not ugly. Definitely not.”
Ariadne raises an eyebrow. “What the fuck gave you that idea? I told you he wasn’t. Fuckers,” she snorts, and buries her head into said man’s shoulder.
Copious amount of alcohol may or may not have been consumed.
Again.
Mina giggles. “Trixie was convinced there was some reason you didn’t want us to meet him. It was either ‘he’s ugly,’ ‘he’s old,’ or ‘he’s a felon.’”
“Well, that last one. . .” Arthur trails off, smirking.
“Hush.” Ariadne simultaneously elbows him in the stomach and kisses his cheek.
“It’s true, I’m dangerous.”
Diane frowns, alcohol making her more bold than usual. “What’s that saying? Break her heart and I’ll break your kneecaps?”
“Yeah,” Trixie echoes.
Arthur smiles. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.”
Ari rolls her eyes. “Saps.”
~
The bag propped against the wall is black leather Coach, and Diane wonders absentmindedly how much it had to cost. More expensive than anything she’s ever bought, surely. Arthur, materializing from somewhere in the kitchen, picks it up and slings it over his shoulder. “Diane,” he nods.
“What time’s your flight?” Graduation had been a roaring success, and now Ariadne’s beau was heading back to wherever he came from. The man was a master of evasion; they had talked all weekend and Diane and the others still barely knew anything about him.
“Cab should be here any minute now. Ariadne” who was currently in a final advisory meeting “is meeting me at the airport.”
“She’s going to join you soon, isn’t she?” Ariadne hadn’t said anything, but Diane had seen the way she lit up when Arthur was around. Diane had a feeling in her gut that her suitemate would soon be following her boyfriend to greener pastures.
Arthur hesitates. “. . .Possibly. I don’t want her to, but. . .it’s not just for me that she's leaving. The job I-we do is hard-we don’t stay in one place for very long,” Diane wasn’t sure if she imagined the unspoken tone in Arthur’s voice that said and it’s dangerous, “but it’s addictive. There’s nothing like it.”
Diane pauses. “Take care of her,” she says, completely sober this time.
Arthur nods. “I will. She’s lucky-to have friends like you.”
She feels as sappy as Ari accused her of being. “We’re lucky to have her.”
Arthur gives her one of those rare smiles. “You have no idea,” he agrees.
Diane decides that, ugly old felon or not, she likes Arthur.
He appreciates the good things in life.
Title: ain’t it nice to see me again
Rating: T
Warnings: A little bit of language and off screen sex, but nothing major.
Pairings: Ariadne/Arthur
Word Count: ~2600
Disclaimer: Inception belongs to Christopher Nolan; I’m just borrowing. Title is form 38 Special.
A/N: I started this right after I saw the movie, and then forgot about, and then proceeded to finish it after a twelve hour Red Bull and studying binge. So, yeah, it’s choppy and not my best and there’s not really any plot. But it’s done, so.
Summary: Outsider POV. In serious times, they were the type of friends that would die for each other. In not so serious times, they gossiped about each other. Ariadne’s roommates speculate about her absent boyfriend.
They’re sitting in a sidewalk café (drinking coffee and eating chocolat au pain, stereotypes be damned) when it comes out. Trixie is twirling a lock of her honey brown hair and saying how do you think I would look if I died it blue and Mina mentions she has a date on Friday. Beautiful, tall, dark skinned, legs a mile long Mina who is always so serious and studious and has no idea the effect she has on people. It’s said quietly, like she’s confessing to a murder.
Trixie slams down her coffee and crosses her hands over her heart. “Mina,” she breathes, “I’m so proud of you. Our baby,” she says, flashing a smile at Diane, “is all grown up.”
Despite herself, Diane can feel her lips tugging up in a smile. Trixie, who flirts with anything and everything that moves, is constantly urging Mina and Ariadne to loosen up, and Diane agrees with her more often than not. Their roommates are way too serious, always embedded in their work; Mina going on a date of her own volition feels a little bit like making it to the moon.
Mina and Ari are quietly chatting when Trixie’s eyes sharpen in on Ariadne. “You know,” she says innocently, “now that Mina has a boyfriend, we could quadruple date. Except. . .” she trails off significantly.
Ariadne blushes. “No, Trix. You’re not setting me up with someone.”
“It would be easy. Just one phone call.”
“No.”
“I know the perfect guy-” Diane can see the annoyance building in Ari’s eyes; sometimes Trixie can come on too strong and she always knows how to push exactly the right buttons.
“I’m already seeing someone, thanks.” Ariadne immediately looks like she wants to take it back and Trixie’s mouth widens into an “O.”
“. . .What? Who? When?”
Ariadne looks pained, but answers anyway, and Diane wonders when her roommate got so private. “We met on the internship I did for Professor Miles in L.A.,” she says, and that explains part of it. Ariadne is tightlipped about the sudden internship she got into last spring; it was at an architectural giant in the States that most students would have given their right arm to do, but Ariadne actively avoids talking about it. “We’re keeping it long distance. He travels for work a lot. It’s low key, ‘s why I didn’t say anything.”
“Any chance he’ll be swinging ‘round Paris anytime soon, so we can meet him?”
“Doubtful,” she says, and from her voice it’s clear that the discussion is over, let’s move on, thanks.
Trixie lets it slide, but she still has that gleam in her eye that says she’s found a new project, and a bad feeling swells in Diane’s gut.
~
Later, when Diane tells Lumah what happened, her girlfriend raises an eyebrow. “Ariadne is. . .how do y’all say, ‘not talkative,’” she responds in heavily accented English.
“You say. Only rednecks say ‘ya’ll,’” Diane corrects absentmindedly. Out of the half a dozen or so languages Lumah speaks, English is her newest and thus worst. She always insists, therefore, that Diane and Diane’s friends address her in English until she perfects her accent and diction. Lumah is practically fluent now, but her English is an odd mix of ultra-proper textbook grammar and Southern dialect she’s picked up from Trixie.
Lumah mouths her neck playfully, a smile in her voice. “Still, it is not unsurprising she would keep an unserious relationship from you.”
“If she likes him enough to keep it going long distance, it has to be a little serious.”
“I’ve decided,” says Trixie, bursting into the room that she and Diane share, “that he’s ugly as hell.” She rolls her eyes as Diane and Lumah squawk and scramble for whatever clothing they can find. “Oh, please. I have tits too, remember? Nothing I haven’t seen.”
“Trixie, if you would kindly-”
“Get out, Trixie,” Diane fairly shouts. Trixie huffs and leaves. When they emerge-fully clothed-a few minutes later, Trixie is waiting at their kitchen table. “So as I was saying-”
“Were you eavesdropping,” Diane asks, both furious and embarrassed at the thought of what Trixie could’ve heard. She and Lumah hadn’t been exactly quiet.
Trixie rolls her eyes again, and gestures to her sports bra and way too tiny running shorts. “Relax, I just got back; missed all the interesting stuff. Besides, you know these walls are paper thin.” Diane does know this, mostly from Trixie’s endless parade of one night stands. “Anyway, as I was saying: I think he’s ugly. Or dumb. Or both. That’s why Ari hasn’t mentioned him.”
Lumah shakes her head. “No, I still think that Ariadne is merely-”
Trixie leans in close. “She’s been dating him for almost a year, Lumah. Even I couldn’t have a casual relationship with someone that long. Not a sexless, long distance one.”
There’s a throbbing in Diane’s temple, a natural side effect of being around Trixie too long. “Maybe she just wants to keep it quiet? Ari is just private; she won’t make a big deal about something until it’s a big deal.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out either way.”
“What? Why?”
Trixie looks fucking ecstatic. “Next month’s graduation. He’ll have to be there.”
~
“He’s not coming.”
Ariadne says it brusquely, businesslike. “Arthur” is apparently busy working, and will not be able to make it Paris next month. Before they can question her further, she claims she has a meeting with Professor Miles and leaves.
“His name is Arthur. Arthur. He probably comes with a built in pocket protector. I’m telling you there’s a reason she doesn’t want us to meet him.”
“She sounded sad,” Mina says slowly, like she’s just realizing something.
Diane shrugs; even she’s feeling a little disappointed.
~
“Oh my god.”
Mina is standing in their doorway, wearing something very tight and very shiny. “We are going out for drinks,” she says, not even wobbling on the six inch stilettos she’s apparently pulled out of her ass. “Just the four of us. Get ready.”
“Oh my god,” Trixie repeats slowly, “who was she and where did she get that dress?”
“I figured it was one of yours.”
“Hell no. Red makes me look splotchy.”
“Well, I guess we shouldn’t ignore the woman’s orders.”
Half an hour later, when Diane and Trixie emerge transformed, they hear a low argument coming from Mina and Ariadne’s room. Trixie puts a finger to her lips and Diane rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything quite yet.
“. . .I’m tired Mina. Rain check, okay?”
“I’m not taking no for an answer, Ari. We’re going out.”
Diane heads into the room, ignoring Trixie’s grunt of protest. “Ari, Mina has emerged from her desk dungeon and willingly put on makeup. This is cause for celebration.”
Ariadne glares at her. The closer they got to graduation the more the brunette seemed to be on edge, and Diane had a good feeling as to why. “Come on,” she whispered, putting as much pathetic whine in her voice as she possibly can, “please, Ari?”
Ariadne glares. “Fine.”
~
Several, several Cosmos later, Ariadne is a little perkier. When Trixie asks her about her missing boyfriend she actually snorts.
Stranger things have happened.
Maybe.
“Fucking asshole. He knew how much it meant to me for him to be here next week, and what does he do? ‘Sorry, Ariadne, a job came up unexpectedly and I had to take it.’ Asshole,” she repeats, signaling the waiter for another drink.
“Is he ugly,” Diane slurs, and wow, she can’t believe she said that out loud, damn drinks, “because Trixie thinks he’s ugly.”
“No,” says Ariadne. “He’s . . .He’s fucking beautiful. Like an angel. An Armani angel.”
~
Two nights later, previous hangovers completely forgotten, they find themselves back in the club. Minah and Steve have snuck off somewhere, and Trixie and Ariadne are giggling and flirting at the bar. Diane and Lumah head towards the dance floor, swaying and grinding and being alive.
Lumah stiffens from where’s she buried her head on Diane’s shoulder. “Diane,” she says tensely. “Look.”
Diane spins them around so she can get a look at whatever’s caught Lumah’s attention. Trixie and Ari are still at the bar, and there’s a man talking with them. He’s quite handsome: tall, dark haired, impeccably dressed in dark tailored jeans and an expensive looking leather jacket. Unsurprising, but what does come as a surprise is that he’s completely ignoring Trixie’s stilettos and push up bra, completely focused on Ariadne instead.
And it’s even more surprising when he takes her hand and leads out to the dance floor.
Trixie appears at their side moments later. “I have no fucking idea what just happened. I fucking hate feeling this way.”
Lumah furrows her eyebrows. “Who is he?”
“Hell if I know. He talked to her for like five minutes, but you’d think he was Prince Charming, the way she was giggling. I’d almost wonder if he didn’t screw with her drink, only I was watching him the whole time.”
The subject of the discussion herself is suddenly there, flushed and grinning like a loon. “I’m going home, you guys. I’ll see you later!”
Diane frowns. “Ari, don’t go by yourself. We’ll-”
“Oh, I’m not going by myself.” She nods jerkily to where Mr. Motorcycle Jacket is standing. “I plan on having company tonight.”
Wait, what? “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What about Arthur?” Far be it from her to meddle in other people’s business, but somehow Diane doesn’t think sleeping around is the best way to get back at one’s absent boyfriend.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll handle him,” Ari laughs, then trounces off before they can stop her.
Lumah sighs. “Oh, my.”
~
She and Trixie are getting ready for bed later that night when the door flings open, admitting a pale looking Mina. “Oh my god,” she breathes.
“Are you okay?” Diane frowns.
“Jesus, they’re. . . ohmygod I walked in on them going at it.”
Trixie suddenly looks wide awake. “Who, Ari’s mystery man? He’s still here?”
Mina nods faintly. “Why oh why did I not stay at Steve’s,” she moans.
“Wow,” Trixie says.
Mina flops on down Diane’s bed, burying herself under the covers. “I’m sleeping here tonight.”
Diane sighs. Mina kicks like no other. “Can’t you sleep with Trixie instead?”
Mina glares from underneath the covers. “I’ve already been traumatized once today; I’m not going to be molested by Trixie in my sleep on top of everything else.”
~
Diane stumbles into the kitchen earlier than usual the next morning, a solid bruise forming on her right calf. Fucking Mina. She stops for a second, bemused by the smell of pancakes-Diane’s the only one of her suitemates who can mess around in the kitchen without burning the apartment down-and then freezes when she sees who’s in the kitchen.
It’s Ari’s mystery man, cracking eggs like he owns the place.
He turns around-he must have good hearing, she thinks absentmindedly, because she didn’t make a sound-smiling at her, and, wow, even she can appreciate a guy with a smile like that. “I’ve got crepes; the eggs Benedict is almost finished.”
Diane eyes him warily, sinking into a chair at the table. “Why are you making breakfast?”
He shrugs lightly. “I thought I’d be a good houseguest; make breakfast for Ari’s friends.”
It’s too much, this one night stand using Ariadne’s nickname and rifling through their kitchen. She wants him gone, now. “She has a boyfriend, you know.”
The man raises an eyebrow, looking amused, but Diane can see the slight drop of his hand as he delivers a perfectly poached egg onto a muffin. “Does she now. She didn’t mention that.”
“Yes. His name’s Arthur, and . . .and he’s a world class architect.” Actually, Diane isn’t sure what Arthur does but it’s not like this guy will know the difference. “He’s flying in tomorrow for graduation; he had a huge business deal to close before he could come.”
“I see. She told you this?”
“Yes.”
“And did she also tell you that her boyfriend flew in to see her after saying he couldn’t make it so as to her surprise her?”
Heat rushes into Diane’s face as things suddenly piece together. Oh. . oh dear.
“Diane! Are you making-“ Trixie’s words die off as she skids into the kitchen, taking in the stranger. “Oh.”
“Trixie,” says Diane slowly, “this is Arthur.”
~
“You,” Trixie says to Arthur, twirling a cherry stem on her tongue, “are not ugly. Definitely not.”
Ariadne raises an eyebrow. “What the fuck gave you that idea? I told you he wasn’t. Fuckers,” she snorts, and buries her head into said man’s shoulder.
Copious amount of alcohol may or may not have been consumed.
Again.
Mina giggles. “Trixie was convinced there was some reason you didn’t want us to meet him. It was either ‘he’s ugly,’ ‘he’s old,’ or ‘he’s a felon.’”
“Well, that last one. . .” Arthur trails off, smirking.
“Hush.” Ariadne simultaneously elbows him in the stomach and kisses his cheek.
“It’s true, I’m dangerous.”
Diane frowns, alcohol making her more bold than usual. “What’s that saying? Break her heart and I’ll break your kneecaps?”
“Yeah,” Trixie echoes.
Arthur smiles. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.”
Ari rolls her eyes. “Saps.”
~
The bag propped against the wall is black leather Coach, and Diane wonders absentmindedly how much it had to cost. More expensive than anything she’s ever bought, surely. Arthur, materializing from somewhere in the kitchen, picks it up and slings it over his shoulder. “Diane,” he nods.
“What time’s your flight?” Graduation had been a roaring success, and now Ariadne’s beau was heading back to wherever he came from. The man was a master of evasion; they had talked all weekend and Diane and the others still barely knew anything about him.
“Cab should be here any minute now. Ariadne” who was currently in a final advisory meeting “is meeting me at the airport.”
“She’s going to join you soon, isn’t she?” Ariadne hadn’t said anything, but Diane had seen the way she lit up when Arthur was around. Diane had a feeling in her gut that her suitemate would soon be following her boyfriend to greener pastures.
Arthur hesitates. “. . .Possibly. I don’t want her to, but. . .it’s not just for me that she's leaving. The job I-we do is hard-we don’t stay in one place for very long,” Diane wasn’t sure if she imagined the unspoken tone in Arthur’s voice that said and it’s dangerous, “but it’s addictive. There’s nothing like it.”
Diane pauses. “Take care of her,” she says, completely sober this time.
Arthur nods. “I will. She’s lucky-to have friends like you.”
She feels as sappy as Ari accused her of being. “We’re lucky to have her.”
Arthur gives her one of those rare smiles. “You have no idea,” he agrees.
Diane decides that, ugly old felon or not, she likes Arthur.
He appreciates the good things in life.