Murder in Cerulean Blue
Author's note: Hello again, my beautiful readers! I promised to return with a sequel to my last, and know I have! I know that it took me long enough, but I was married in June and then graduated from my lovely university in December after one hell of a semester. As of now, I have yet to find full time employment, so I've had the chance to really buckle down on this. (Although, full time employment would be awfully nice…)
If you've bothered to read the title before you started with the note, then you may have realized that my second installment of the on-going adventures of our heroes is a murder mystery. I will admit, figuring out how to put this together has been tricky as all hell, thus the full year between story one and story two, but a little under a month ago, I finally figured out how all the important pieces are going to fit and now can build a story around them! So now that you know what has taken me so long, I must warn you that it's not going to be an update every four days like my last story; I am terribly sorry about this, but as this is such a detail-oriented kind of story, I need to make sure all the parts fit together correctly before putting up each chapter. (Also, there's that whole 'looking for a job' thing that I'm also trying.) However, you should be able to look for an update every couple of weeks or so, depending on what my life does.
Anyway, I have worked hard to get chapter one up as my Valentine's Day present for everyone! I hope you like your present. Once again, your critiques, praises, ideas, and opinions are not only welcome, but taken with the sincerest gratitude.
Love and affection,
Ballerina Terminator
-}-
Murder in Cerulean Blue
Chapter One – Off the Hook
Marie-Claude Lacroix, the long-time roommate and closest friend of Ariadne Gray, knew something was bothering her friend as soon as she entered the living room. That evening, the two of them were going to be throwing a birthday party for their friend, Geoffrey Black. His wife, Eloise, was still recovering from a broken foot and was, at the same time, trying to manage a rambunctious baby who had just mastered the art of running. Marie-Claude and Ariadne couldn't blame her for feeling unequal to the task of hosting a party.
For once, the apartment was spotless, not an especially common occurrence. The party decorations were up and looking lovely, and the snacks and refreshment were set out in a beautiful arrangement. Guests were due to arrive at eight –in a little less than twenty minutes – and everything was ready.
Ariadne was, in Marie-Claude's opinion, looking particularly lovely in the pine-green dress that she herself had given to Ariadne for Christmas, but instead of being cheerful and excited about the upcoming party as she had been all week, she stood gazing out of the large living room window, not really seeing the view in front of her, looking tense and worried. Marie-Claude could see her tiny hand gripping the small chess bishop that she saw Ariadne fiddle with in times of stress.
"What is the matter, Ari?" she asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.
Ariadne tore her gaze from the street below and up at her friend who, despite being almost a full year younger, was still several inches taller.
"He hasn't called," Ariadne said simply.
Ah, so that was it, Marie-Claude thought with rising trepidation. She could see why Ariadne was concerned.
Marie-Claude had left Paris to spend Christmas with her family before Ariadne had returned from a visit to friends in London, and she had returned the morning after New Year's Day to find Ariadne saying her good-byes to Arthur Hamilton. She hadn't needed Ariadne's joyful declaration to realize that her relationship with the young man had become much deeper, and ever since Arthur had left Paris, he had called Ariadne every evening, between six and seven, without fail. Usually, the call would come much closer to six.
But now, it was coming on eight o'clock, and the cell phone on the coffee table in the center of the open room, quiet and unmoving.
"You could call him, maybe?" Marie-Claude suggested.
Ariadne looked torn. "I'm not sure," she said uncertainly. "I don't know what he might be doing, and I'm not sure that I might not be interrupting something that needs to not be interrupted. I'm not even sure what the time is where he is."
This was not a statement that gave Marie-Claude much comfort. Ariadne had told Marie-Claude that the two young men that were her friends and business associates had left to work on public relations outside of France, but it seemed that this was all her closest friend in the world was going to tell her. Where they were going and what, exactly, they were doing to work on 'public relations' was either a mystery to Ariadne, or she just wasn't telling. Marie-Claude was inclined to think the latter option the most likely.
Over the last eight or so months, Marie-Claude had sometimes felt as though Ariadne was becoming a stranger to her. Ariadne seemed to have all but lost interest in school, even though she attended one of the most prestigious architecture and art schools in the world, and she had confessed to taking up a new job that, while it paid her extravagantly and seemed to be satisfying her love of working in architecture, was shaded in mystery. Marie-Claude had no idea what Ariadne was doing with her life, and Marie-Claude didn't like it a bit.
Ariadne let out a frustrated sigh, let the heavy curtain fall in front of the floor-length window, shook off some of her tension, and looked around the room. "Well, I suppose we're ready for the party. We haven't forgotten anything?"
Marie-Claude shook her head.
Twenty minutes later, Ariadne opened the door to the first guest, Helene Lafayette. She was one of Eloise's closest friends and had been a bridesmaid at the Blacks' wedding. Ariadne hadn't met her until their engagement party, but since then, she, Marie-Claude, and Ariadne had become close. She brought with her several bottles of wine.
"Whatever you have," she declared, "it won't be as good as this. You are going to love it. One is just for the two of you, so hide it." She handed over the canvas bag and shifted off her heavy coat to reveal a bright white dress that practically shone when contrasted with her obsidian skin, and she unwrapped the scarf from around her short black curls. Once her many layers of protection against the cold had been shed and deposited in the closet, she began to help with the wine bottles.
Over the next half hour, the guests trickled in, ushered in by either Marie-Claude or Ariadne. When the Blacks arrived, they had both headed for the door, but it was Ariadne that opened it. She brightened when she saw them, Eloise off her crutches and out of her cast, but still leaning on her husband's arm. However, after a quick glance around, Ariadne's face fell.
"Where's the baby?" Ariadne demanded with indignation.
"With my mother-in-law. She volunteered to babysitter," Geoffrey told her, moving to come in.
"Where do you think you're going?" Ariadne asked.
"In to my birthday party?" he suggested hopefully.
"Oh, no," Ariadne said. "If you wanted to come into the party, you should have brought Celeste."
"I can't come in for my own birthday party?" Geoffrey asked sadly.
"Ah, I think I see where the miscommunication has occurred," Ariadne said sympathetically. "You are under the impression that the two of you are my friends when actually, this couldn't be further from the truth. I only speak to the two of you because you happen to be the parents of my goddaughter. No baby, no party." She folded her arms and stood blocking the door.
"Is there a reason that we are all standing in the hallway?" asked a dark-haired young man as he emerged from the stairwell.
"Hello, Michel," Eloise said. "Ariadne is refusing to let us in because we did not bring little Celeste."
"Depriving me of my godchild," Ariadne said petulantly.
"I have to agree with Ari," said Marie-Claude, poking her head out into the hallway. "I haven't seen Celeste since before Christmas. I was not here when Eloise brought her on Wednesday.
"Well, can I come in?" Michel asked hopefully.
"Of course, you can," Ariadne said with exaggerated sweetness and a kind smile. She opened the door wide for him.
"Well, we're with him!" Eloise said quickly, jumping at the open door and tugging on Geoffrey's sleeve to get him to follow her."
"Oh, I suppose you must be allowed in then," Ariadne said with a dramatic sigh.
"Where is your pretty fiancée?" Marie-Claude asked Michel as he came in through the door. "We were hoping to see her. You did not bring her?"
"Oh, she's working this evening," he said apologetically.
Eloise took up his arm as she came in as well. "That is too bad," Eloise said, and then her tone became inquiring. "When are the two of you finally going to settle on a date for the wedding? I know that she has been trying to get you to discuss it with her."
Michel shot Geoffrey and Ariadne a panicked glance over his shoulder as Marie-Claude and Eloise led him into the living room, but they merely shrugged as though to ask what he could possibly expect them to do.
It did not take long for the party to pick up. Ariadne and Marie-Claude knew nearly all of the guests to some degree and most of these they knew very well, but the guest list had been provided to them by Geoffrey, and there were two or three whom they had only met that evening. Nevertheless, it seemed to Marie-Claude that they were getting along well and having fun. It was Ariadne who Marie-Claude saw struggling to enjoy herself, and in a room full of people who knew her so well, it was only a matter of time before someone else noticed. As it turned out, that someone was Helene.
"Ariadne, you look as though you are very worried," Helene said. The party had settled around the living room at this point, clustered into groups holding their own conversations, although the majority of the women were sitting together in the circle of chairs and sofas that sat near the fireplace.
Ariadne stopped twisting her fingers in her lap and looked up. "Sorry."
"What is the matter, Ariadne?" Eloise asked. "You have been distracted all evening."
"Ariadne is worried about her new boyfriend," Marie-Claude said sharply. It was, perhaps, not the most tactful thing that she could have said, but the entire situation was beginning to get on her nerves.
Eloise whirled around on Ariadne. "Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded. "It was that man that came to see you in November, wasn't it? Please tell me that it's him."
"How did you know?" Ariadne asked.
"What man in November?" Helene asked. "Why do you know about this and not me?"
"Are you serious?" Collette asked. "Ariadne has a relationship that has lasted for over a month? That'll be a first. Oh, don't look at me like that. You know that I'm just teasing you."
Ariadne shot a dirty look at the slender brunette lounging on the chaise lounge. Collette was Geoffrey's first cousin on his mother's side, and as much as Ariadne would have liked to have left her off the guest list for the party, Ariadne hadn't in good conscience been able to 'accidentally' forget to mail her invitation. To say that the two women grated on each other's nerves was a severe understatement.
Truth be told, Marie-Claude really couldn't remember a time when Ariadne and Collette had ever liked each other, even when they were much younger.
Ariadne, for her part, had always found Collette to be pushy, and as they had gotten older she also found Collette to be manipulative, especially toward boys. After Collette had gotten two of Ariadne's male friends had gotten embroiled in a confrontation that had not ended well, and Ariadne felt that she had been left to untangle the mess, the low opinion had been cemented.
Marie-Claude wasn't actually certain what it was about Ariadne that got on her nerves, but she had a pretty good idea. She suspected that Ariadne, who most people found to be sweet and wholesome, struck Collette as sappy and insincere. It probably also didn't help that Ariadne could be fiercely protective of her friends, and she never bothered to disguise it when it was, in fact, Collette that she was trying to protect them from.
To tell the truth, Marie-Claude would have been the first to admit that Ariadne could sometimes come off as a bit of a goody two-shoes, although she suspected that Ariadne, also believing this, would act more sweet and innocent around Collette for the sole purpose of irritating her.
It was at this point of the conversation that Michel turned from the conversing group that he had been a part of. "Did you say that Ariadne has a boyfriend now?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
Ariadne shot an unhappy glance at Marie-Claude, her displeasure at her love-life becoming a topic of conversation for a party, especially a party at which Collette was in attendance, was becoming apparent. Marie-Claude felt a slight twinge of guilt.
"Oui, she does, and he is very good-looking," Marie-Claude admitted.
"Could he really be all that attractive?" Collette asked of Eloise, disbelief ringing in her tone.
"Oh, yes," Eloise said with relish. "He is certainly handsome, but also so sophisticated and gentlemanly. I think he might actually be good enough for our Ari."
Marie-Claude allowed herself a smile as she left the room to answer a knock on the door to the apartment. It was nice to know that Ellie also found her cousin-by-marriage to be a narcissistic bully. She would be more than willing to get in any shots she could.
When she opened the door, she was more than a little surprised to see Arthur and a young man that she had never met before – Mr. Phillip Eames, she assumed – standing there.
"Well, speak of the devil," Marie-Claude said to Arthur, then she ground her teeth as Collette's voice came clearly into the foyer asking, "How sophisticated could he be if he's attached himself to Ariadne?" Tact had never been something that Collette understood in the least.
"Welcome," she said. "You may have come just in time to see a fight break out in my living room. Collette may be pretty tough, but if she makes Ari mad enough, I think the odds could be pretty even."
"I'd like to place twenty Euros on Ariadne, please," said Eames, following Arthur through the door. "I have a feeling that she could do some serious damage in a fight if she put her mind to it."
As they entered the living room, Ellie looked up at the newcomers, nudged Helene who sat beside her, and whispered something that Marie-Claude couldn't make out, but from Helene's reaction, it wasn't hard to guess.
Helene looked over at Arthur, gave him a look that turned from appraisal to approval. "I don't know, Collette, but he looks about as sophisticated as they come," Helene said casually.
Ariadne looked at Helene in confusion and then followed her gaze to the point just behind her where Arthur stood. Ariadne's face broke into an excited smile as she leapt up and threw her arms around his neck. He caught her mid-leap and pulled her into a tight hug that lifted her off her feet. When he set her back down, he tilted her head back and kissed her briefly, but despite its brevity, the kiss was very sweet. Afterward, the look he gave Ariadne was also very brief, so fleeting that Marie-Claude nearly missed it, but it left no doubt in her mind that he would have preferred to go on kissing Ariadne. However, Arthur struck Marie-Claude as a very private person, one who would not be inclined to public displays of affection, especially in a room in which he and Ariadne had the full attention of nearly half the occupants, a fact of which Marie-Claude was sure he was aware. In fact, the impression he gave left Marie-Claude feeling almost certain that very little escaped his attention.
"I don't expect that you could have missed me any," Eames said as though he were feeling very sorry for himself, despite the fact that he looked upon his friends' romance with obvious approval.
Ariadne turned to Eames and, going up on her toes, gave him a peck on the cheek. "I missed you, too, Eames," she reassured him.
"We meant to surprise you by showing up unannounced," Eames said, "but we didn't realize that we would be gate-crashing."
"Well, it's my birthday party," Geoffrey said. "And I say that you were invited. Ariadne, how could you have possibly neglected to send invitations to my friends, Arthur and… er, I'm sorry, I didn't get your name…"
"Phillip Eames, but I prefer just 'Eames', thanks," Eames introduced himself, shaking Geoffrey's hand.
"Ah, yes, and my good friend, Eames," Geoffrey finished.
"Well, next year, your mother-in-law can give you the party, and I will take the baby," Ariadne said primly. She returned her attention to the young men that had just arrived. "Boys, there's food on the dining room table, and there's a lovely wine on the table over there, and there is a little left from the excellent bottles provided by Helene. Please help yourself."
Later, after the last guest had gone, Ariadne sank down onto the couch next to Arthur, sighing with relief. "It was a good party, but I'm glad they're gone. I've been dying for a chance to talk to you and Eames."
"Not, however, before I have a few words with the lot of you," Marie-Claude said firmly.
Ariadne cringed as she glanced at Marie-Claude, and Eames, also shooting a glance at Marie-Claude, leaned over to Ariadne.
"Are we about to be in trouble?" he whispered.
"We already are," she mumbled as quietly.
"You better believe you are in trouble," Marie-Claude snapped.
"Also, she has exceedingly good hearing," Ariadne sighed.
"I certainly have good enough hearing to know twice last week, you woke up from nightmares practically in a panic."
"Also, she's a really light sleeper," Ariadne grumbled, very careful not to look at Arthur.
"And," she snapped, "my eyesight is good enough to see that gash over your eye, even though you try to keep your hair covering it."
Ariadne tilted her head down, letting more of her long curls fall in front of her face.
"Really, Ariadne, I feel as though I do not know anything about you anymore. Since you started this - whatever 'this' is - you have been secretive about your work, you disappear without warning to heaven-knows-where, and you don't tell me a thing when you return except that now you have a great deal of money. All this, and I haven't said a word, but now…" she trailed off for a minute before taking a deep breath and continuing. "Now you have come home with scars and nightmares, and I'm not going to be quiet about this any longer. Ariadne says that she cannot tell me what is going on without your consent, so I am telling you now, I want to know what you have gotten her into."
During this tirade, Ariadne, Arthur, and Eames had sat quietly, and now Ariadne turned to the men and looked at them imploringly.
"If you're okay with it, then I'm willing," he said.
Ariadne turned to Eames, who did not look happy about the situation.
"Please, Eames. It's only fair that she knows what's going on. After all, you've told your mother," she argued.
"Fine," he sighed after a minute. "As long as she knows that what she learns isn't to leave this room, I'm okay with it. You still have it here right? Go grab it. We might as well give the full demonstration."
Whatever Marie-Claude might have expected, it certainly had no relation to the following events. When Ariadne jumped up from the couch, obviously pleased, and disappeared down the hall and into her room, she was confused. When Ariadne reappeared moments later with a chrome suitcase that she had never seen, she was surprised, but no less confused.
After she had set the case down on the coffee table, Arthur handed Ariadne his keys, and, selecting one from the set, she unlocked the case. The latches on the side of the case were flipped open, and when the lid was raised, the machinery and tubes within shed no light on the situation.
"What is it?" she asked.
"It's called a PASIV," Ariadne said, as she fiddled with the various parts of the machinery. "I gave it a bit of a tune up this week, so it's all ready to go. I'm going need you to either sit or lie down somewhere you can relax completely." When Marie-Claude just stared, bewildered, Ariadne waved her to the open couch from which Arthur had just risen.
Marie-Claude stretched out on her beach towel and opened her eyes. The cool, salty sea breeze blew through the overhead branches of the tree shading her and Ariadne, making the shadows and light dance around them. When the light flashed in her eyes she propped herself up on her elbows and gazed at the sparkling blue that began at the edge of the fine white sand and extended all the way to the horizon.
"I like it here," she said to Ariadne.
Ariadne stretched and rolled over and, after adjusting the edge of her swimsuit, propped her chin on her hand.
"You really like it?" she asked, obviously pleased.
"All I need to make this perfect is a mimosa," Marie-Claude said with a grin.
She started in surprise when a champagne glass filled with orange liquid dropped into her line of vision. Her gaze ran up the arm of the hand that held the proffered mimosa up into the grinning face of Eames.
"I believe you ordered a drink," he said, handing her the glass. Marie-Claude started almost as much when she took in the loud Hawaiian shirt that he wore, but she took the drink with a gracious 'Merci."
Arthur also came into view in a white linen shirt and khaki slacks, looking just as neat as usual, but more relaxed.
"It is a beautiful area, Ariadne," he said kneeling down next to her. "You have done a simply breathtaking job."
Marie-Claude didn't quite understand the statement, but Ariadne positively glowed with pleasure at the complement.
Eames too gazed around at his surroundings, and after a moment of critical contemplation, he nodded his head in approval. "Quite nice. Very vividly realized, Ariadne. Even the sand feels right as does the air, and I particularly like the rocky out-crops and cliffs just a little further on. They contain the area nicely. Your work is really quite impressive."
"Here now, what are you talking about?" Marie-Claude asked, pushing herself up into a full sitting position. "You are speaking as though Ariadne had designed the area herself."
"I did," Ariadne said simply.
"Don't be ridiculous," Marie-Claude scoffed. "No one designs a beach."
"Can you tell me where we are then?" Ariadne asked carefully.
Marie-Claude suddenly sat up a little straighter. After a moment of serious contemplation, she began to study the surroundings very carefully. After a moment of gazing up at the gnarly conifers that twisted out of the cliff, she hazarded a tentative response.
"Surely, we are in the south along the coast or maybe one of the little islands?" She ended the statement more as a question, and her voice had an edge hinted to her rising panic as she realized that she was uncertain as to her own location.
"Nope," Ariadne said brightly. "We are in Paris. We are still in our apartment."
"Are you trying to be philosophical?" Marie-Claude asked. "Because if you are, I am really not in the mood for it."
"No, I am not." Ariadne assured her moving a little closer to her. "You have already admitted that you don't know where we are," she continued in soft reassuring tones, "and if you think about if for a moment, you will also realize that you don't even know how we got here."
Marie-Claude gave a sharp intake of breath and grabbed Ariadne's hand and gripped it hard. The sky had begun to darken as clouds began to form, and the once calm waters became choppy and dark.
"Now, if you will take a deep breath, and remain calm, I will explain why this is. You are actually dreaming. We are dreaming together. If you think back, you will remember that you wanted to know what I did for a living. You have been worried, and I told you that I would show you. Well, now I am showing you a dream that I designed to share with others."
"None of this is real?" Marie-Claude asked obviously astounded. Out at sea, along the horizon, storm clouds had begun to congregate and lightning had started to flash.
"I'm afraid not," Ariadne said apologetically. "Despite everything, I'm afraid it is still below freezing outside." Despite the growing turmoil and the worried glances that Arthur and Eames were darting between Marie-Claude and the weather, Ariadne remained calm, and the encouraging smile that she was giving her friend never wavered. After a minute, Marie-Claude seemed to relax some as she had a chance to process the idea of her situation. She took Ariadne's advice and took some deep, calming breaths, and, after a moment, she began to feel better. When she stopped squeezing Ariadne's hand, Ariadne grinned and gave her a pat on the back.
"You're doing quite well," she told Marie-Claude. "Certainly better than me, anyway. The first time I found out that I was in a dream, I panicked so badly that our surroundings began to explode."
Marie-Claude's eyes became wide, and she began to look around her for any signs of impending destruction.
"To be fair, though," Arthur said, addressing Marie-Claude for the first time, "Ariadne's reaction was unusually strong."
"Ah," Marie-Claude said in a knowing tone. "Ariadne is rather prone to very strong emotional reactions. Oh, don't look at me like that, Ariadne. You know that it's true. You are also very good at reading the emotional states of others, and I imagine that the two factors are not unrelated. It's nothing to be bothered about."
Ariadne seemed to feel that Marie-Claude was no longer in need of calming as she stood up and brushed the sand off of her bare legs before sitting back down on her own beach towel, and, indeed, the sun had reemerged from the clouds and the sea had calmed.
"So what exactly is it that you do with these dreams that you design?" Marie-Claude asked.
"We steal secrets from people's minds," Ariadne said simply.
"What?" Marie-Claude exclaimed in surprise. "What kind of secrets have you stolen?"
"Well, when I disappeared in October, the secrets that we stole included 'Where are the other Al'Queda operatives hiding?' among other things."
"Afghanistan," Marie-Claude remembered. "And December?"
"Ah, well, in December, things didn't go quite as planned," Eames said regretfully.
"How so?" Marie-Claude asked apprehensively.
"Well, in December, the plan was to find out whether or not an employee was stealing company secrets," Eames said, "but that's not what we found out."
"What did you find out?"
"We found out that the employee was really an FBI agent investigating the company which was a front for a human-trafficking ring," Arthur said.
"And that," Eames said, "was when the shit hit the fan."
Memories suddenly began to surface for Marie-Claude: Ariadne watching news reports about an American company shut down for human-trafficking under unusual circumstances with a look on her face like grim satisfaction. She had followed the story for days, always interested, even when it was an article in a newspaper that only consisted of a few sentences. She wracked her brain for the names of the company and the people involved.
"Shaw," she said. "That was the name of the company or firm in the States. So many people were arrested. The man Shaw was found in his home tied to his bed surrounded by piles of evidence."
"There was also a bow stuck to his forehead," Eames said brightly. "I thought it would add a bit of Christmas cheer."
"And there was another man - I don't remember his name - he was found in the building all cut up and concussed," Marie-Claude remembered. "He only woke up about a week ago."
"I didn't mean to knock him senseless," Ariadne snapped defensively.
Marie-Claude looked at Ariadne in dumb-struck amazement.
"Besides, he started it," she grumbled. "And unlike him, I didn't cheat by bringing chloroform to a fist fight."
"All right then," Marie-Claude said. "I want to hear everything from the beginning, and don't leave anything out."
"Well, you know how Arthur came to see me in December," Ariadne began, but Marie-Claude interrupted.
"Oh, no," she said firmly. "Start with last June. When I said everything, I meant everything."
Ariadne and the men exchanged looks.
"We're going to need more than the five minutes that I put on the clock," Ariadne said.
It was nearly two o'clock in the morning before Ariadne was able to find some alone time with Arthur. It had taken hours to go over everything with Marie-Claude, starting with the PASIV and the rules of shared dreams. Even with the PASIV used for demonstrations and to help show her some of the exerts that were more difficult to explain, it was a long and complicated processes.
When it was done, Marie-Claude had continued with questions, until she finally ran out of things to ask. After a few moments of silence, she finally declared that she was completely exhausted and that she was going to bed.
"You haven't told me what you think," Ariadne had protested.
"To tell you the truth, I'm not entirely sure what I think," Marie-Claude had admitted. "I will need sleep on it, as weird as that sounds now. Don't look so worried, Ariadne. I can say that I do feel better knowing what you have been doing than when I did not. I will think on it, and I think you will not need to be too worried. I will see you in the morning. Bonne nuit."
Eames had stayed to talk for a little while longer, but he too bowed out, ostensibly to acquire rooms for Arthur and himself for the night at a near by hotel.
"Were you really very worried when I didn't call this evening?" Arthur asked Ariadne as they sat curled up on the couch together.
"Exceedingly," she admitted. "I was so relieved to see you."
"I am sorry for making you worry," he said. "The original plan was to surprise you by showing up around five, well before you even expected the call; but we missed our connecting flight to Paris because of bad weather, and the next flight was later getting off the ground than expected. It was all incredibly aggravating. I ended up losing several hours that I fully expected to be able to spend with you."
Ariadne smiled, much pleased by the implied complement. "Oh, well, now you're here, and earlier than I expected!"
"I'm afraid we have a flight out again at nine in the morning," Arthur said.
"Nine?" Ariadne exclaimed her smile falling.
"We had to go thorough Paris, and we arranged to make it a longer layover so I could see you. We're going to Japan next, but we should be back by Wednesday."
"Oh, well, I suppose that's not too bad," she sighed. "And being able to see you now is quite nice."
"Yes, very nice," he agreed, pulling her in closer, and placing a kiss on her lips.
Several minutes later, their amorous activities were interrupted as Arthur's phone buzzed. Arthur sighed as he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket, he pulled up the text from Eames.
If the two of you ever come up for air, you ought to know that you've got room 209. Your key is being held for you at the desk..
Ariadne blushed, and Arthur rolled his eyes.
"You have to go, don't you?" she asked.
"Not quite yet," he said, pulling her back.
After a few more minutes, she tried again. "Arthur, as much as I love having you here, you are down to maybe five hours of sleep before you have to be up again, and Lord knows how long you've been awake up until now."
"You are interjecting an unreasonable amount of sense into this conversation," he complained.
"How long have you been up?" she asked, suddenly suspicious.
"That is unimportant," he said, ruining it by unsuccessfully trying to stifle a yawn.
"Eames is really not going to be pleased with me if I make you miss your flight," she said. "I'll never hear the end of if, and for that matter, neither will you."
"You're right," he sighed, standing up and picking up his coat.
"It's something you'll get used to," she said sweetly. He laughed pulled his gloves on.
"I expect I will," he said. "Do I at least get a kiss good night?"
"Of course," she said, rising up on tip-toe to put her arms around his neck.
Just a bit later, she stood at the door of the apartment, watching leave down the hallway.
"Good night, Arthur," she called softy. "See you on Wednesday."