Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own it
Note: I'll be adding more ficlets every so often. Just as a warning, slash or implied slash may be in some of these. (Or maybe all? I have no clue. Haha!)
Summary: Ariadne talks about embarrassing things when she's drunk.
"Arthur, do you dream anymore?"
He turns to Ariadne, who is clearly passed the point of being tipsy and well onto being thoroughly drunk. Being the designated driver, he's still on his first glass. "No, I don't." He wonders if this is going to turn into a half-slurred conversation that will quickly start going downhill in terms of coherency.
She looks up at the ceiling, swirling the beer in her bottle. Her eyes trace invisible patterns in the yellowing paint as she asks, "Do you miss it?"
"Not really. I prefer having uninterrupted sleep."
Suddenly, Ariadne gasps. At first, Arthur thinks she sees something, so he joins her in looking at the ceiling. He doesn't notice any anomalies, but then she looks at him with wide eyes and declares rather loudly, "That means you can't have sex dreams!"
Arthur is mortified and tries to tell her to keep her voice down as she starts giggling. A few people turn to look at them, and he just smiles awkwardly.
"Sex dreams can be annoying sometimes," she continues in a whisper, "but they can reveal some important stuff about yourself."
He doesn't want to ask, but he can't resist the temptation. Maybe he wants to see that cute look of embarrassment tomorrow when she's sober enough to realize what came out of her mouth. "Like what?"
"Ohhhh, I dunno." She raises her bottle as though she were giving a toast, looking towards a corner of the bar. "Like stuff about your innermost feelings about someone." Then she quickly turns to him and says frankly, "I had a sex dream of me with a woman once. Maybe that means something?"
Arthur merely stares at her, eyes slightly wide, having no clue what to say to that.
Turning back to the corner, she takes a swig from her bottle and sets it down with a bit too much force. "Or it could be that everyone has a sex dream like that. The mind's curious and all. It's our nature to be curious." Her eyes slide towards Arthur, her mouth quirked in amusement. "Have you ever had a gay sex dream before you started all this dream sharing?"
Arthur could feel heat rush to his cheeks. They were not having this conversation.
Twisting in her seat so that she was fully facing him, Ariadne appeared almost excited. "If you could still dream now, do you think you'd have one of Eames?"
At that, Arthur is done. He quickly stands, nearly tripping over his own feet, and pulls Ariadne up with him. "I think I should take you home now."
She laughs all the way, even while she's struggling to buckle her seatbelt in Arthur's car. "Arthur! I was only kidding! You so have a crush on him, don't you?"
Starting the engine, he tries to keep his voice level. "First of all, I'm a little old to 'crush' on someone. Second of all, no."
Ariadne playfully hits him on the arm, still laughing. She doesn't say anything else after that, for she soon passes out.
The next morning, she looks miserable, and when she passes Arthur's work table, she apologizes for whatever she said. Arthur lets out a tiny sigh of relief. But then he hears a whisper a few feet behind him.
"He totally does."
When Arthur looks over his shoulder and sees Ariadne and Eames smiling at each other like idiots, the horrifying realization dawns on him that he's been played.