Archive of Our Own ^beta

"You go into the field on all your jobs?"

"Just the interesting ones."

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She graduates, and he sends her an expensive, inlaid travel-size chess set. He attaches a note:

Congratulations. Let me know if you need a job reference.

-A

She doesn't, of course, and within a few months she's the most highly sought-after architect in the business.

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The museum is damn close to being perfect, with big, soaring marble halls and smaller, more intimate galleries and lots of little connecting hallways and it would be so, so easy to get lost in it.

Which is exactly the point, he thinks as she shows him where all the tricks and cheats are.

He's especially impressed by the staircase that becomes a devil's tuning fork.

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It's kind of impossible not to keep track of her, even as they go their own ways. It's still his job to know, to have the necessary information. And as her reputation grows, Arthur can't help but feel a little proud of her. She was kind of like their protege, his and Cobb's, and like all good students she's surpassed her teachers.

He hears about cathedrals, and office buildings, and ancient, ruined cities. He wouldn't believe most of it if he didn't know Ariadne. Ariadne, he knows, is capable of anything she puts her mind to.

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"Just the interesting ones," she says with a little smile in answer to his question. "There are some new things on the second level that I've never tried that deep before. I want to make sure they work right."

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The job he's been offered is going to be tricky. Damn tricky. It's not inception, not that bad, but the toughest job he's had since Fischer, and Cobb isn't on board anymore.

When he finds out the mark has a weakness for modern art, he gets the idea to contact Ariadne. It'll mean going back to the client to ask for more money, because the best architect in the business is already commanding impressive fees, but he knows it'll be worth it.

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Security is alerted while they're still en route to the museum's vault, and they nearly get ambushed on a second-floor stair.

Arthur takes out the projections with his usual cool efficiency, and allows Ariadne to guide him down an alternate corridor, through large, square galleries to a fire exit at the back of the building.

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They meet at a park in London, and she hugs him, and he smiles, because she hasn't changed one bit - still horrendously young, guileless and questioning everything.

"You're a lot less formidable than your reputation would've had me believe," he says, one corner of his mouth turning up.

She laughs a little, and says, "So, when do I start? Have you got a base of operations yet?"

"Don't you want me to tell you about the job, first? We should negotiate your contract before you decide - "

"Please, Arthur. Whatever you have, it's good. Really good. Let's do it."

"Okay." Her confidence in him is gratifying. "Have you done any museums lately?"

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Ariadne points the way, and Arthur takes the lead, down the stairs and through the door to the vault. It's quiet down here, the distant noise of security echoing in the large space in a ghostly kind of way.

The information they need is locked inside a vault, where in a real museum artistic treasures of untold wealth would normally be kept.

He is so close, so damn close, and the vault opens with a click and a hiss, and then -

He is a split-second too late to see the security guard who snuck up on them, but Ariadne sees, and before Arthur has time to react, the projection drops with a bullet hole in his head.

There is a brief, ringing silence as he stares at her, this unassuming young woman who builds magnificent things and, apparently also knows how to -

"Stop looking so surprised and get the folder so we can get out of here," she hisses.

"I didn't know you could -"

"You never asked, did you? Let's go!"

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Arthur, of all people, should know better than to underestimate Ariadne.

"Put five minutes on the timer," she says with a grin. "I'll show you what I can get up to now."