A/N: I love the Inception Fandom, it never gets old for me. Anyways, this is my first try at something AU, originally this was just going to be a regular old story that I was going to submit into a writing competition, but then I started thinking, "Hey! This would be a perfect AxA story!" And now here I am! I hope you guys like it!

Disclaimer: Christopher Nolan owns everything; I'm just playing with his magnificent toys.

They sent each other shy smiles and longing stares from across the hole in the wall coffee joint, neither one working up the courage to say hi to the other. He looked down at his forgotten, and now cold, black coffee, feeling his ears turn red as he looked back up at the radiant brunette across the room. She too was looking down at her neglected tea, swirling the tea bag around in her cup, her cheeks bitten pink. He rubbed his hand nervously on the back of his neck, taking in a deep breath as he began to make his way over to the brunette beauty.

That is, until she looked back up.

He froze, only a mere ten feet away from her, and she froze too, hand hovering above the cold tea and fallen tea bag. He gulped as he broke eye contact with her, bashfully looking at his shoes, as the brunette beauty spoke up.

"Hey," her voice was timid, calm and nervous, sounding like a beautiful symphony to his beet red ears. She placed her hands on her lap as she turned her body fully to face him.

He cracked a smile, as he let out a breathless response, his heartbeat drowning out his words in his own ears, "Hey…mind if I join you?"

She nodded her head as a small smile sneaked up on her own face, gesturing to the chair in front of her, "Not at all."

He practically jumped the ten feet keeping them apart, happily taking the seat.

"I'm Arthur," he held out his hand, his stomach doing summersaults as she shook it.

"I'm-"

He never got to find out what her name was.

Arthur's alarm clock blared in his ear, the sunlight hitting his now open eyes like lightning. He quickly shrank away from the warmth as he turned his alarm off, looking at the time. 12:32; he was going to be late for his 1 o'clock shift at Barnes and Nobel if he didn't get up now.

He rubbed his eyes as he lazily made his way over to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, splashing ice cold water on his face, suddenly seeing a flash of curly brown hair behind closed lids.

"That dream," he whispered, "that girl."

He grabbed a towel off of the nearby rack as he wiped his face, mumbling to himself, "Third time I've had that dream this week."

He rushed through the rest of his daily routine, shrugging on a tattered old jacket as he closed his apartment door behind him, not bothering to lock it. There wasn't anything that would be missed if someone happened upon his unlocked door.

Arthur quickened his pace as he looked at his watch, 12:50; he was going to be late for sure. The bookstore was still several blocks away and he cursed, realizing that he could've taken his bike.

By the time he arrived at the bookstore it was already 1:10, earning himself a scornful glare from his manager as he waved off her warning, "This is the third time this week, Arthur, if you're late again I-"

"Yeah, yeah," he responded, quickly making his way over to the stack of boxes containing new books behind the counter.

He didn't really care about this job anyways. He didn't want to stack books for the rest of his life, he was actually waiting to hear from a publisher about his latest novel, and whether or not it would be published. So until then, he continued to stack books to keep up with his monthly rent.

He only got halfway through the first box when his best friend bounded over, hair gelled to the side as usual and his Barnes and Nobel shirt stained with ketchup from his lunch. He set down the books he was holding with an obnoxious slam, getting Arthur's attention.

"You dreamt of her again, didn't you?" Eames asked; his British accent as thick as his will.

"What makes you say that?" Arthur mumbled in response, ducking his head to hide the blush taking over his face.

That subtle redness did not avoid Eames' careful eye, "Well one, you're late again, which I wouldn't think much of if you weren't such a punctual git. Two, you keep staring off into space and keep taking neck breaking double takes at every brown haired girl that walks through that door. And three, you're blushing harder than a cherry tomato."

"Shut up, Eames."

"I knew it! My, my, Arthur, falling in love with someone who doesn't even exists? This is a new low."

"I never said I was in love with her. And, obviously, if I'm having such consecutive dreams about the same girl then my subconscious is trying to tell me something," Arthur said, sending the Brit a short glare as he continued on with his work.

Eames would have nothing of that, however, and took the box of books from his hands and placed it behind him, "Or maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you it's time to get laid."

"Shut up, Eames."

"Well until you meet the brunette beauty from your dreams, darling, I'm never going to believe otherwise." And with a laugh he turned to reorganize the bookshelf that had been run amuck by some rowdy teenagers.

Arthur stared in disbelief at his best friend. Sure it has been a while since he's met a girl, and even longer before he even considered sleeping with her. So it would make sense for his mind to be dreaming up some girl if that were the case, but there was just something about the dreams that seemed too familiar, too real.

The day had been uneventful, just as all the other work days have been. He spent his time dealing with Eames' wit, shelving books, and opening a new cash register whenever the line got too long. By the time Arthur got home he was too tired to even change clothes. He dropped his keys on his table, unceremoniously kicked his shoes off into some obscure corner of his apartment and ungracefully fell into bed, silently wishing for a visit from a particular brunette beauty.

And that's just what he got.

The sun was dancing along their backs, warmth swallowing their bodies. They were sitting on a beach, seemingly in the middle of summer. She looked gorgeous. Her curly brown hair was tied in a knot at the base of her neck, loose locks framing her sunglass obscured face. He smiled at her as she smiled back, gently leaning her body against his.

"Well, this is new," Arthur stated, placing his head on top of hers.

"Much more interesting than a coffee shop, although I'm not too fond of the noise," she ducked her face as a group of faceless teenagers ran by, spraying sand on their legs.

He laughed as he dusted off the sand, "I'm not too fond of it either. How about we get out of here?"

She nodded as they stood up, the sand sinking slightly beneath their weight with each step they took. They made their way from the beach to a nearby ice cream shop, talking the entire way. He learned that she was going into her third year, trying to get a Masters in architecture ("I want to rebuild new buildings from old ones"). She had one dog, a mutt, named Bishop and a gold fish named ChuChu ("I've kept him alive for a whole year!") She was born in Versailles, France, raised in New York and went back to France for high school then back to the states for college, which also meant she was fluent in both French and English. She wasn't very fond of pop music and she once played Romeo in her junior high's production of Romeo and Juliet.

"Really?" Arthur exclaimed, his eyebrows rising.

"Yes! I was a much better swordsman than the guy they originally casted, so they asked me to do it instead." She gave him a cheery smile as she took another lick from her mint chocolate chip ice cream.

"I would love to see that production."

"Maybe you will…one day," she turned her attention to the clock on the wall and sighed, "it's time for you to wake up, Arthur."

"What do you mean?"

Only a second after that statement did he find out what she meant.

The dream was interrupted by the obnoxious sound of his alarm clock. He glared at his clock; the blinking numbers 12:20 seemingly mocking him in his groggy state. He groans as he literally rolls himself out of bed, staying on the floor for a few good seconds before finally finding the will power to pull himself off the ground and make his way to the bathroom.

"Such a good dream…" he mumbled to himself, "it felt so real..."

This dream was different from the previous ones, way different. Did they acknowledge the previous dream like it was a memory? He couldn't quite remember. Was it a lucid dream? No, no, he wasn't controlling her nor was he even aware that he was dreaming. What was it then? He splashed more water on his face, hoping for a realization to hit him. The dream felt too real to be a dream. There was no strange occurrence, no logic defying event, nothing. Just a normal day on the beach hanging out with a girl he was quite smitten with. A girl he didn't know, didn't exist, and would just stay in that memory like dream.

He didn't even know what her face looked like.

He tried to think back, tried to resurface the previous dreams. All he could remember was her soft curly brown hair, smooth porcelain skin, obvious things. Her face was always obscured though. In the reoccurring coffee dream it was blurred, no details. In the beach dream it was obscured by large sunglasses and bright sunlight. He's never even seen her face.

The only thing he could think about on his way to work (on a bike this time) was that girl. He couldn't stop thinking about the way her hair shined in the sun, the way her laugh sounded when he said something funny, everything. The only thing that haunted him was that he couldn't remember her face. What color were her eyes? Brown? Blue? Hazel? Green? Did she have a small button nose or a narrow pointy one? Did she have any freckles or beauty marks? Why wasn't he able to see her face?

He sped through the day thinking about the dream girl, doing his work half heartedly, earning condescending looks from his manager and worried looks from Eames. All he wanted was to go back home and dream. Arthur felt happy when he was with the girl, the happiest he felt in a while. He was able to live in the dream, spend time with a girl that was so different from the girls in real life.

It went like this for a whole week; Arthur would speed through the day, talking to no one, and would spend his nights happily with the dream girl, learning more and more about her.

Eames was beginning to grow worried. Arthur wouldn't respond to anything he was saying or anyone for that matter. He had a feeling it was about that dream girl, and he had to confront him about it, soon.

"Arthur," Eames said, tapping his old friend on the shoulder.

He didn't respond.

"Arthur!" He tried yelling this time, shaking his shoulder.

No response.

"Arthur!" He yelled in his ear, slapping him in the face in the process.

Third time's the charm.

"What the hell, Eames?" Arthur yelled, rubbing the sore spot on his face.

"You've been out of it this whole week! What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, nothing's wrong," Arthur responded, standing up from his seat, dusting invisible dirt off his pants.

"I can see through that façade, Arthur darling, it's the dreams isn't it?"

When he didn't respond, Eames took matters into his own hands. He took Arthur by the wrist and yelled out to the stout manager, "We're taking our break early!" and headed out the door. Arthur looked at him, bewildered, as Eames threw him in his car and drove off.

"Do you mind telling me where we're going?"

"We're going to live, Arthur, that's where we're going," Eames said, giving him a smirk.

"I'm pretty sure I'm living, Eames. I have a pulse and everything."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

The two were met by silence, Arthur contemplating Eames' motives the entire time. Was he letting this dream thing go out of control?

"She's not real, Arthur," Eames mumbled moments later, not taking his eyes off the road.

"But she feels real…"

"That doesn't mean she is."

Arthur let out a sigh, he knew what Eames was saying was true, but he didn't want to believe it.

They sat in silence for the rest of the ride, Arthur blankly staring out the window and Eames humming along to some unknown song. Arthur didn't know how much time had passed when they pulled up into a parking lot. He looked around; they were at a partially empty beach, the late summer sun shining down on the glittering waves. The only beachgoers there were adults on their day off and a couple of teens already ditching school that had started a week ago. He looked to his left, past Eames, and saw an ice cream parlor currently serving a small child and his mother.

This setting looked all too familiar.

"Why did you bring me here," It was more of a statement than a question.

"You were mumbling about beaches and ice cream all day, I thought I'd take you here, maybe you'll run into that dream girl you love so much," Eames said as he smirked at him, earning a questioning look from Arthur.

"But you just said-"

"I know what I said, just get out of this stuff car and play in the waves, eat some ice cream, meet a girl, something!" And with that Eames pushed him out of the car, Arthur stumbling to keep his balance.

He sighed as he watched Eames drive away, yelling "I'll be back in an hour or two!" out the window. He looked around him, wondering what to do next. Should he wander aimlessly until Eames comes back? Or should he try to do something productive like work on that novel he's been trying to finish since last month? He decided on the latter, reaching for his bag but only grabbing air. He'd left his bag in Eames' car.

He let out a curse as he sat down on a nearby bench, facing the ice cream parlor that was once serving a young boy and his mother. It was a 50's styled parlor, red rubber seats adorning the booth and had checkered tiled floors with black scuff marks scattered everywhere. A very in love couple was sitting in a far off booth, drowned in each other, spinning the colored dice from Cranium trying to guess which color it would land on. The two employees were dressed in 50's attire. There was a young man, looking like he just walked off the set of Grease, who stepped out from behind the counter with a very large sundae in his hand. The other employee was a young petite thing, couldn't be a day over 20, looked very much like a cliché 50's movie, her flouncy poodle skirt bouncing with every step, and her curly brown hair tied high up in a ponytail. Curly brown hair that looked very, very familiar.

Was she…?

Arthur couldn't even finish his own thought as he raced towards the ice cream parlor, not caring for the intrigued looks he was earning from the few others. He slammed open the door of the parlor, earning a inquiring look from the blue eyed Grease Lightning employee, a plastic nametag saying "Robert" adorning his shirt.

"May I help you?" He asked.

Arthur ignored him, earning an annoyed eye roll as Robert went back to preparing another sundae. Arthur made his way over to the curly haired, poodle skirt wearing employee, tapping her on the shoulder.

"What can I do for you?" The girl turned around as she said this, her voice high and angelic, and he was met by freckles and blue eyes.

She wasn't her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," He looked down and read her name tag, "Colbie, I thought you were someone else."

He turned to leave, with a disheartened sigh, when Colbie reached out her hand and tapped him on the shoulder.

"You probably have me confused with my cousin, we look the same from behind, let me go get her," she said sweetly as she entered a door saying "employees only."

Arthur froze the second he heard those words leave her lips, he was almost afraid of seeing the girl, too afraid of being let down, rejected almost. The door slowly opened and Arthur panicked, turning his sight towards the exit. He heard the soft steps of who he could only imagine to be Colbie or her cousin. The steps were coming closer, coming to a stop, and he felt his heart rise up to his throat.

"My cousin said you were looking for me?" A familiar voice sounded.

He's heard that voice before, he has it memorized. It's the same voice from his dreams…does that mean?

Arthur turned around with breakneck speed, and was met by the stunning sight of a petite woman, most likely 20 or 21. She was donned in the same 50's uniform as her cousin; only instead of her skirt was blue, not pink. Her curly brown hair was down, framing her face, amber eyes looking at him with awed shock. He felt a smile grow on his face; she was the dream girl, most definitely.

"Hey," he said as he quirked a small smile.

"Hi," she responded, a small smile of her own growing on her porcelain face.

"I know this may sound strange, but-"

"It feels like I've met you before?" She finished for him, the smile growing into a grin.

Arthur nodded his head slightly, "Yes…in a dream."

"You've been having them too?" She asked, shocked.

He raised his eyebrows in equal shock, vigorously shaking his head, "Yes! I've been having them for a while now, about three weeks."

"I've been having them for that long too!"

Arthur couldn't help it anymore; his happiness was working overdrive as he swept her up in his arms, giving her a tight hug.

Her smile grew bigger, her amber eyes sparkling with delight, as she said "Glad to know I wasn't going crazy."

"I'm Arthur," he said, sticking his hand out after he had released her from the hug.

"Ariadne."

"Ariadne…" he tested the name out on his tongue, "would you like to go on a stroll with me?"

"Yes, yes I would," Ariadne responded, taking his arm as she yelled out, "I'm taking my break early!"

Arthur couldn't stop taking in her face as they strolled, talking about everything and anything. This was the face that had eluded his dreams for weeks now, and now he could finally put a face to his dreams.

A/N: This took longer to write than I expected, lol, about four days? This is a oneshot, or a twoshot, if you guys want. I might add another (and final) chapter to this, everything from Ariadne's view. So yeah, let me know if you'll be interested in reading that! Please leave a review, I'd love to know what you thought.