The stem of a wine glass crunches under Ariadne's shoe.
"I - I shouldn't be here," she stammers, backing up as Mal advances on her. "I'm sorry -"
"Don't be sorry," Mal says, reaching out to her. Her hand is warm and her touch is gentle, and she smells strongly of perfume.
She's dead. Corpses aren't warm, and they don't touch. Ariadne's fingers tremble, but she's not backing up anymore. She's rooted to the spot.
Mal's hands slide over Ariadne's shoulders and up her neck, brushing her hairline and scalp. A tiny, involuntary moan escapes her mouth.
"What are you? Casper the bitchy ghost?"
"You talk when you're nervous," Mal says. She seems to find it amusing. "Why did you come back here?"
"You're a memory."
Mal's hands tighten, her engagement ring snagging Ariadne's hair. She winces.
"My name is Mallorie Cobb, and I'm an extractor."
"You're dead."
"I'm waiting for a train," Mal says simply.
"You killed me, that one time," Ariadne mutters. "Not very hospitable."
A chill rushes through the hotel room. The curtains flutter. Mal looks lost, and her hands drop.
Ariadne loosens her scarf. "Listen, I only came down here 'cause -"
"You wanted to know," Mal says. She walks away, trailing a hand over the couch. "Did my husband kill me?"
Ariadne hesitates.
"But you remain convinced that your world is your world. Because how awful would it be to discover that your reality is a roman à clef, that you are a... pawn in a fantasy?"
"Um," Ariadne says. "You think I'm in someone's dream?"
"I know."
Mal's dress sweeps the floor as she rounds on Ariadne again.
"He'll be here soon."
"Who?"
"Dom," Mal says, and she seizes Ariadne by the elbow.
"What -"
"Don't fight me," Mal purrs.
Ariadne's stomach turns over, but underneath the sudden nausea is a current of need. Mal is beautiful, and Ariadne is the kind of girl that dreams big.
"Cobb," she whispers. Her lip juts out.
"We have time," Mal says, slipping her hands over Ariadne's neck and down into her shirt, unhooking her bra with majestic sleight of hand. One slides back up and drops down Ariadne's collarbone, making her shudder, and pulls her top down to expose the slope of her breast.
"You're his projection," Ariadne murmurs.
"My name is Mallorie Cobb. I am waiting for a train."
"He's doing this to me?"
"Shh," Mal whispers, and leads her to the couch.
/
Ariadne is drowning in unfamiliarity.
Sure, she goes to college (with a bunch of French girls) but she's never been touched like this before. Mal's earlier words - half of a whole, a lover - echo in her head. She's the know-it-all, the one who stays home and annotates the text while her classmates get drunk and give each other sloppy, meaningless kisses.
Mal is very methodical. She unzips Ariadne's sweatshirt and folds it, lays it on the arm of the chair. Ariadne - stripped down to her bra - shivers as a breeze blows in through the open window of the hotel room.
Mal cups her face in her hands, kisses her from the jawline to the lips and then spreads them with her tongue. Their teeth click together.
Ariadne runs a hand through Mal's hair, wary, like she's not allowed. Mal slides a leg between Ariadne's thighs and lets a little noise escape her throat that makes Ariadne twitch in the pit of her stomach.
Slam.
Mal turns and smiles wanly. "Good evening, darling. You're late."
Ariadne looks over her bare shoulder to Cobb. His face is dark.
"I - I'm sorry," she stammers.
"Get out," Cobb says.
"I -"
"Get out."
"Oh," Mal says, pouting. "Don't be cruel, Dom." She pets Ariadne's hair.
Cobb staggers to the couch and grabs Ariadne by the shoulder, shoving her toward the elevator. Mal takes Cobb's hand in hers and says "no, no, don't leave me", but he's on his way out, slamming the door behind them. She screams at him in French.
There are no accusation on the way up. No "what were you thinking, goddamnit", nothing like that. Just thick silence. Ariadne is shaking, now, still half-undressed. At some point her zipper came undone, so she does it up as quietly as possible.
They wake up.
Cobb rips the leads from his wrist and tosses them to the side, storms out. She stays put.
After a while, Arthur walks in looking puzzled. "What the hell happened?"
Ariadne digs through her pocket and tips the chess piece onto the table. It falls to the left.
"Nothing."
/
A/N: YOU GUYS. this fandom needs more femslash. concrit and reviews are welcome as always!