She'd followed him to ask what he thought about the layout. But now, he was standing much closer than necessary, and Ariadne could no longer think straight.

Not while he stared at her like that.

A sudden nervous tingling in her fingertips was her only warning, and Ariadne found herself pressed to the wall behind her, Arthur's palms flat against it one either side of her, encircling her completely as his mouth joined to hers hungrily.

The tingling shot to her knees, which suddenly felt weak. She reached for something - stability - and found herself desperately clutching the lapel of his coat with her left hand as her other arm reached round his neck and into his hair.

She could feel the pressure of his thigh, flush against hers. Hear the soft, urgent, animalistic noises deep in his throat, so unlike the fastidiously precise and professional Arthur she knew...

Feel the thrum of his heart through her fingers, pumping wildly, coupled with the frantic cadence of her own.

They kissed deeply; almost savagely; their mouths open, allowing them to familiarize themselves with the other more completely. Her right hand slipped to the side of his face, tightening on his ear and hair, feeling the movement of his jaw on her palm while her other hand gripped his clothes tighter still.

Ariadne felt as though she was losing sensation, as if all of her awareness boiled at the points of contact; her hand on his chest, her fingers in his hair, and the inferno that was their lips, locked together as their tongues frenzied in an intimate dance, blood screaming in their veins.

As suddenly as it had occurred, it was over.

Arthur dragged his teeth across her lip in one last feral caress before drawing away and resting his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily. A few moments of this passed before Arthur pushed himself upright, turned sharply and began walking away.

Ariadne felt flushed, chaotic, in complete disarray. She nervously re-adjusted her clothing, her hair- though he hadn't touched her.

Part of her registered that the conversing voices of the rest of the team were much closer, and that Arthur must have heard them.

She certainly hadn't been paying attention.

He was walking slowly - strolling, really - and she caught up easily as the rejoined the others at the foot of the staircase.

They were saying something about airplanes, and Arthur immediately joined in.

"It would have to be a 747," he was saying, voice collected as normal, betraying nothing.

She snuck a glance at him, astonished. She was bewildered, embarrassed. But did he really plan to act as though it had not happened?

No.

There was the ghost of a proud and please smirk.

He didn't plan to ignore it.

But he also wasn't going to bring it up again.

Not yet.

A/N: I can't have been the only one who thought they'd been doing...something... right before this scene. She was much too fidgety, and he seemed absolutely smug.

Also I like the idea of their canon-kiss being a continuation of a convoluted Arthur-doesn't-know-how-to-express-his-feelings, poor guy.

Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and please tell me your thoughts and suggestions!

- ACG