chesstotem | the one where Arthur is a douche (for thesecurity and <lj site="l

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the one where Arthur is a douche (for thesecurity and <lj site="l

Ariadne was a little surprised, truth be told, at how well her date with Arthur was going - not that she'd thought it would be bad, per se, but she'd expected a bit more awkwardness about the whole thing.

Instead, what she got was Arthur being charming, handsome and just plain nice, talking easily about work and music and wine, while Ariadne chatted about designing and weird architectural details and they compared notes on a few of the cities they'd both been to.

It was still pretty early, but Ariadne had never really been able to hold her alcohol, so she demurred at the bartender's suggestion of another drink.

"We should get out of here before I start stumbling around in these shoes." They were sensible enough shoes, though still pretty new and liable to hurt her feet if she wasn't careful.

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But, as he'd told Eames, Arthur had only signed up for a drink. He'd had a good time, a good night--and he'd like to leave it that way. Arthur wasn't the type of man to push things, not with a girl like Ariadne. Actually, he'd never been with a girl like Ariadne.

It left him feeling a little flat-footed and it was that--in the wake of her simple question that didn't sound simple at all--that made Arthur think of all the things that Eames had said to him. As if Eames knew anything about women other than how to leave them in his rearview.

Shit.

Arthur rubbed fingers over his mouth and shook his head. "I think it's better if we didn't. Tonight."

"Seriously?" It was out of her mouth before her brain had even processed anything. Ariadne did not expect to be turned down, not after such a great night, not after essentially planning on getting laid, not after lusting after Arthur for months.

Frankly, she was used to getting what she wanted.

Was he just not attracted to her? But why had he agreed to go on a date with her if that was the case?

Her face flushed a little with embarrassment. Had she completely misjudged him?

Eyebrows raised slightly at Ariadne's question, the incredulous tone in her voice. "Seriously," he repeated, without the question mark at the end.

Even if he had wanted...

She was--

Arthur stepped back from the cab door. "We work together, Ariadne." And the job wasn't over. That was enough to help him keep his head even if he had been inclined to treat her like every other woman he'd slept with--which he wasn't.

Edited 2010-09-13 03:33 (UTC)

Now that, that statement was absurd.

The cabbie was waiting very impatiently, so Ariadne waved him off - there were plenty of cabs around, she could get another, but what Arthur had just said was unpardonable - the implication was just plain false, and it pissed her off.

The dress she was wearing, short enough to show off her legs a bit, the nice strappy shoes, the lipstick, the perfume she'd put on - the only other thing she could've done to signal her interest would've been to put a neon sign on her head inviting Arthur in.

Hands on her hips, she glared at him. "Bullshit. That didn't stop you with Eames, unless he was lying to me. If you're not interested, why did you agree to go out with me?"

Arthur watched the cab pull off and was going to ask when Ariadne's statement stopped him completely, stiffening his shoulders and pulling any residual amusement or good will off his face. Like that wasn't enough of a tell in of itself that she was right, that Eames had told her the truth, but Arthur wouldn't have lied to her. Unfortunately, in this case, because he was a firm believer that who he was sleeping with was only his own business.

He was going to kill Eames. Third-fucking-party, indeed. Jesus Christ; oh, he was going to make it painful.

Arthur ran a hand down his tie and then pushed both into his pockets. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that when we decided to go out for drinks that it would include sex." There was no obvious condescension in his tone but that was Arthur; Eames would have certainly caught the flat derision. "And just because I don't want to sleep with you tonight doesn't mean that I'm not interested in you."

It was a true enough statement, but in the context of their conversation Arthur realized belatedly that he'd more or less called her easy. His lips flattened. How had he gotten himself into this much trouble by not sleeping with her?

Ariadne's face flushed with embarrassment and anger at Arthur's words. She'd never had sex on a first date before, ever, and the first time she attempted it, the first time she wanted it, it got spit back in her face with derision.

"Then say what you mean, next time, instead of basically saying that you don't date coworkers when we both know that's a lie, and then implying I'm, I'm..." She wasn't even going to say it, because even thinking that Arthur might think that of her made her want to cry.

She wasn't going to cry over a jerk.

God, if she'd just left Eames out of it.

Arthur's lips were pressed into a tight line and the tops of his ears had started to match the color of her cheeks. "I didn't mean that you're-- I just--" Oh for fuck's sake. "It's not a lie, either. I don't date coworkers," he didn't date anyone, "I have never dated coworkers. If you want this to be some one-night stand, Ariadne, then fine. I'll follow you back and we can pretend it never happened in the morning."

Her own mouth tightened, too, lips pressing together so they wouldn't tremble.

She was a grownup, dammit, she was better than this.

Arthur didn't date coworkers, and he didn't want to have a one-night stand with her, either. So... what else was there to say?

"Fine," she managed, then turned her back on him. She'd walk up the block a ways and hail another cab. A fucking disaster, that's what this was. She wanted it to be over.

"Ariadne--"

He didn't want her to walk away mad, if only because things would be just as awkward tomorrow. Arthur took a few long strides to catch up with her, pulling a hand out of his pocket to touch her elbow. "Please. I don't know what you want from me. You're attractive, I had a good time tonight--I just don't think it's a good idea, being romantically attached to people I'm working a job with."

Dammit. She sniffled. She couldn't help it. Dammit.

"Then why did you agree to go out with me in the first place? All you had to do was say no!" She pulled her elbow out of his grasp and kept walking.

Maybe if Arthur had an ounce of Eames' ease with people (he wouldn't go so far as to call it charm), he'd have followed her, but he just didn't understand what he could possibly say that would extract his foot from his mouth. She obviously didn't want to listen to him and Arthur was thinking that because you backed me into a corner and Eames was being his normal self wouldn't fly by way of a good answer to her question.

So Arthur stood and watched Ariadne walk away before turning around and going back into the bar to drown his anger in whiskey.

It was a good thing he let her walk away, because there basically was nothing else he could say at the moment that would've calmed her down. She was upset, and upset with herself for being upset, and pretty much anything else he said would've just made things worse.

Sniffling again, she hailed another cab. She was so distracted that it took her a moment to remember she had to give the driver the address, and on impulse, instead of directing him to the hotel she was staying at, she gave him the address of a different hotel.

Twenty minutes later, her eyes still a little puffy, Ariadne stepped off the elevator and knocked on a door. "Eames? It's me."

Eames had expected, in his entirely rational way, to have the night entirely free to himself without interruption. It seemed like a good opportunity to take a nice shower and sit around in a fluffy hotel bath robe while reading through files and files of research. While Arthur and Ariadne were getting their freak on, he could distract himself and once again come up on top.

Well, that had been the plan, anyway. He hadn't exactly expected Ariadne to come knocking on his door. It wasn't entirely a surprise, no, but it wasn't part of the plan.

Eames had never had much of a problem with diverting from plans anyway.

Getting up out of his chair, he walked opened the door and gave her a small, understanding smile. "Well that was quick, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Take a wild guess," Ariadne said miserably. She probably should've just gone back to her own hotel, but she wanted company, dammit, and if there was anyone willing to talk smack about Arthur, it was Eames. "You have such astute insights into the human condition, maybe you can tell me why men are such backwards assholes."

In Eames's defense, he only really talked smack about Arthur when Arthur was within earshot or when he was in a particularly foul mood. In reality, he did have more respect and appreciation for the other man than he led others to believe. Still, at this particular moment, he could understand her sentiments exactly. He had, after all, been using work as a distraction.

"Do you want the long answer or the short one? Either way they're both horribly bias."

Slipping past him into the room, she curled herself on the couch without even a by-your-leave, legs tucked underneath her. "I've got all night," she said, staring at her knees.

"He wouldn't go back with me to my hotel. Which is fine," she hastened to add, "but he made it sound like it's because we're coworkers, and then he got pissy and implied that inviting him back with me was..." She waved her hand in the air eloquently. Even as vague as the insinuation had been - more implied in the tone of his voice than the words he'd actually said - it had hurt, coming from Arthur. Thinking that, even for a moment, even angry as he was right then, he'd thought that about her.

That, now that made Eames's eyebrow quirk upwards in judgmental surprise. Really, Arthur. Sitting down next to her, he rested a hand on her knee in an attempt to give some sort of emotional support. "Pissy Arthur, now that's a sight. He'll never admit that he gets like that, I promise you that. What exactly did he say? I can't properly either explain or reject what he did from just your reaction to it, now can I?"

It wasn't that he didn't believe her, that much should have been obvious. No, it was that, depending on what actually happened, it could be very much like Arthur or very much not, and his curiosity easily got the best of him.

"It was more the way he said it," she murmured. "He said he hadn't realized he was signing up for drinks and sex, like..." She shook her head. He'd never been contemptuous of her before, but for a brief moment as he'd said that, he had been.

"He didn't want to go home with me, and he said he doesn't date coworkers, so I can't imagine why he went out with me in the first place if both of those things are true, that's all."

"That may be my fault," Eames admitted sheepishly, patting Ariadne's knee. "I goaded him, which in hindsight might not have been a good idea. I challenged and he stepped up," With a quiet sigh, Eames considered offering Ariadne a drink but decided against it. No, she looked like she had enough. He needed one though, so he went over to the mini fridge and squatted down to grab himself a mini bottle of scotch, then standing and pouring it into a glass for himself.

"The thing about Arthur is that he has a set of standards that, frankly, do make some degree of sense. He just takes it all a bit too far and lacks the tact and subtly needed."

Ariadne huffed a little at Eames' admission. "What he said to me made no sense at all. I had a really good time. I like him." She was a little drunk, which was why she kept talking instead of keeping the next bit to herself. "I wanted to get laid. It's been a while. He said he thinks I'm attractive but he was doing a shit job of acting like it."

Ah, Alcohol. The term social lubricant was both incredibly accurate and entirely incorrect. Eames would say social butter more than lubricant, because it did as much bad as it did good. She was lucky she came to him instead of rattling on to a stranger.

"Ariadne, you're beautiful--and you look especially lovely in that dress. I know for a fact that he finds you attractive, it's his personality that's riddled with flaws. Also keep in mind that he may have a point, underneath all of that failure to communicate." He said as he sat back down next to her, meeting her eyes in the way he did when he wanted people to know--or at least thing--that he was telling the truth.

The alcohol relaxed her enough in his presence that she didn't have a problem pulling off her shoes - the straps were starting to hurt, a little.

"Thank you," she said in response to his compliment. "I know he - he didn't mean it like that, and he didn't have to sleep with me, but all he had to say was that he wants to take it slow, or something like that.

Why did he have to say, 'we're coworkers' like that makes any difference at all. Like it made any difference with you."

Eames made a wincing face at the suggestion of Arthur wanting to take it slow, because that hadn't been what he meant at all. He knew Arthur well enough, knew how he approached relationships with other people well enough to make an estimate, and that was not where his mind went. "I can't speak for Arthur, but I don't think taking it slow is exactly the issue here."

Taking another sip of his scotch, he leaned back into the couch, making himself more comfortable as he continued. "The difference is that Arthur and I have never, in any context, gone on a date. It's purely physical," He had been telling himself that lie all day, but it was enough of a truth to pass as one.

She gave a heavy sigh. "Doesn't that make it worse? If he would normally be inclined to... Wait, you're still sleeping together?"

When Eames had said that the sexual tension with Arthur was resolved, Ariadne had assumed he meant that they had slept together once or twice, at some point in the nebulous past.

"You're putting words in my mouth, Ariadne. You might want to refrain from doing that," Still, that wasn't a denial. That would be a lie, and he wasn't so much in the habit of lying as bending the truth. Which, coincidentally, was what he was currently doing.

Edited 2010-09-14 00:03 (UTC)

the one where Arthur is a douche (for thesecurity and <lj site="l

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