A/N: Thank for those who alerted and added this fic to their favorites. It means a lot for me, but I have a request: leave a review, please. Reviews make day, force the sun to light and generally fix the world;)

Ariadne decides that fools have a luck in lives after all. She's still a student which amazes her only until the moment she learns that it's because of Professor Miles. He convicted everybody that she got an amazing job offer, no student could refuse. A possibility to create astonishing things, while she still hasn't had degreed.

Ariadne isn't sure how he manages that (surely somebody wanted some kind of document proofing that), but she's utterly grateful for that.

She also has to admit that Professor Miles didn't lie.

She got a chance to create amazing things.

That thought comes with a hint of sadness, so she quickly decides that she want to buy some kind of present for her professor, to show all her gratitude. However, fate has apparently another plans for her today.

"Ariadne?", she hears suddenly and turns toward person, who called her.

"Ariadne, that's really you!", Camille and Oliver smile broadly. She kisses her cheek and he hugs her gently.

"When did you come back?", he asks.

"Yesterday.", Ariadne admits sheepishly.

"And you didn't even send a text!", Camille says disapprovingly, but there's smile in her eyes. She's truly happy that Ariadne came back and so does Oliver. This knowledge melts a part of ice inside Ariadne. She answers with smile.

"I was tired and today I needed to check if I'm still a student…", she explains. Her words make Camille eyed her carefully.

"You really thought that Miles would let anybody throw you from this college?", her voice is filled with disbelief. Oliver chuckles shortly at Ariadne's lost look.

"Come on, we need to celebrate your return.", he says and takes her for arm.

At this moment Ariadne almost believe that no men in suits with guns in holsters are really important to her in any way.

They sit in small café, they've been in many times since their first year of studying. Ariadne takes her usual place; that's the place where she had spend countless number of hours chatting with friends, sketching, or just simply sitting and thinking. It so familiar to her, yet today it feels different.

"The same drink as always?", the voice of waitress tears her out from her reverie.

"Oh.", she hesitates for a moment. "No, I'll take espresso this time.", she decides finally, surprising not only her friends, but also herself.

Camille glares at her suspiciously. "You've never drink coffee before.", there is an accusation in her voice. "Is that what this mysterious job did to you?"

Ariadne can't help but smile. "Yeah, I guess."

There is clear picture on her head.

"Arthur, want some coffee?", Eames said his words more as a statement, than question, making his third coffee this morning.

"Mmm.", Arthur mumbled not taking his eyes from his notes.

"And Ariadne?", Eames glared at her.

"You know I don't like coffee.", she grimaced.

"Love, if you want to survive in this business you need to learn to drink coffee.", Eames said with smirk. "Am I right, Arthur?"

Arthur chuckled and finally looked up from his notes. "No matter how I hate to do so, I have to agree with Eames."

"I can't believe my own ears.", Ariadne laughed. And quickly learned they were right.

Arthur made astonishingly tasty espresso…

"Ariadne?", Oliver waves his hand in front of her face. "Wake up. You need to tell as something about this job."

"Oh, I…", Ariadne desperately searches her mind for some believable lie and finds it completely empty. "Umm, and what exactly told you Miles?"

"That it was an amazing chance to work with professionals from different departments and suggested not to disturb you. It's all.", Oliver answers, looking at her intently.

"And you didn't ask him any further?", Ariadne asks, with a hint of hope in her voice.

"Ari!,", Camille chuckles. "He's our lecturer, we couldn't interrogate him! Besides you can tell as, can't you?"

"Um, the problem is that not exactly.", she watches Camille eyes darkening. "I mean I wish, I could, but it's something well. It was a kind of secret thing and…"

"Some spy job?", Oliver asks with laugh. "Girl, you don't look like Mata Hari."

Ariadne giggles nervously. She's happy that Oliver is unaware how close to the truth he is. "You've never know.", she answers, trying to sound light.

"Yeah, you've never know.", Camille nods and Ariadne is sure that further questions are only delayed.

Arthur wakes up suddenly, as if from nightmare. The only problem is that he hasn't been dreaming for five years now. He stands up quietly, ready to use his gun, but there's nobody in the room beside him. The only change of its appearance is a sheet of paper lying on nightstand. Arthur takes it, knowing already what it says.

Arthur,

I had to go to work and I didn't want to wake you up.

You need to sleep more, really. I know that by the time I'll finish my work

you'll have been at least at the other side of the city, so good luck.

Love,

Kathy

Arthur smiles to himself. Today he feels much better, thanks to Kathy and he's happy she isn't angry at him. He know that she's right, he needs to run from this place. Killing two people can only make his enemies more dangerous and Arthur is sure that they've already found out that he broke the deal.

Because of Ariadne.

He pushes away that thought; he doesn't have time to think about her, all he needs to do now is leaving city, before it'll be too late. He glances through the window and see two men standing close to the hotel's entrance. They look casually, but Arthur's trained eyes catch tiny signs telling him that this men are looking for somebody.

For him to be exact.

Arthur curses silently. There is back door in this hotel, but it's probably observed too. He thinks for a while which way choose and then decisively grabs PASIV. Rest of things will have to be replaced, like many times before. He puts the silencer on his gun and he's ready.

His way through corridors of hotel goes smooth. It's something Arthur learned in the beginnings of his work in Dream business: if you look like you're allowed to be somewhere, nobody would think that actually you not.

Luckily there're windows that shows Arthur that it's not his lucky day; close to back doors stand one of men, the second one is a couple of meters further.

The chance that he'd kill both of them before they manage to hurt him in any way is tiny. Besides, he really would like to ask some question. He suspects whose men they are, but in this line of work you've never know.

He opens the door carefully.

"Don't move. Both of you.", he hisses, pointing his gun at head of the closest man. He hopes that the loyalty between them is stronger than the loyalty to their employment.

"Now put your guns on the ground. No rapid movements, understand?", he commands. Both men obediently drop their guns on the ground, but something on the face of the furthest one alarms Arthur. Only because of that and his great reflex he's able to avoid the bullet.

"Fuck!", he screams, feeling sharp pain in his wound. He's sure he starts bleeding again, but there's no time for thinking now. Right now the only things that can save him are instinct and reflex.

Hopefully both of them won't let him down.

He kicks blindly and with a hint of satisfactions feels that he actually managed to hit one of them. He shoots without aiming and hears scream, but there's no time to waste.

He runs toward closest car and breaks it window. For a moment he's utterly thankful Eames, that he convinced him that the ability of starting car's engine without key is helpful in their line of work.

Engine starts smoothly and Arthur drives off to the main street. He glances at back mirror. Nothing behind him changes. He's safe.

For now.

He checks himself. The wound is bleeding, but blood still hasn't soaked through his shirt, so nobody will see it. The suit is slightly crumpled and hairs lightly disheveled, but he won't get too much attention.

That's enough for him.

The airport is crowded as always places like that are. Arthur heads to cash desk and prays in his soul for free tickets.

"Hello, how can I help you?", blonde girl smiles to him genuinely.

"I'm interested in the closest flight to Berlin.", Arthur answers politely. "Is there any place left?"

"Just a moment.", she checks it quickly. "Yes, in business class."

"Great.", Arthur answers. He pays quickly and turns away, when girl stops him hesitantly.

"I'm sorry, but are you ok?", she asks.

"Yes.", Arthur answers firmly, through the haze in his mind. "Why?"

Girl shakes her head. "I just… There's blood on your hand."

Arthur freezes for a moment and the smiles. "It's nothing, really. Nevertheless, thanks for your care."

He turns finally and goes to toilets.

If he wants to live through the flight without losing consciousness, he has to fix himself.

When he changes his cleans his wound and changes his bandaged he decides that working alone is the worst thing in the whole world.

Now he wishes that there would be someone with him, anybody, including Eames.

Someone, who could provide him some time for a rest.

He stifles the sudden urge to call somebody.

It's pathetic, he thinks. You were in worst situations than that, with worst wounds and you giving up? No way.

He tries not to hear the small voice in his head telling him that before there was always Cobb beside him.

When he finally takes his seat in plane, he immediately closes eyes hoping that he'd fall asleep. It turns to be much harder than he expected. Now, when he doesn't have to act he's not longer able to stop his mind from thinking.

Thinking about Ariadne.

Arthur knows he should be at least angry at her. Her inexplicable behavior ruined all his well-planned actions and forced him to fight with Cobol Engineering. He made a deal with its agents to prevent that!

And yet, he's not angry, just curious. What could possibly poses this smart woman? Arthur is very well aware of Ariadne's courage, but it wasn't courage; it was stupidity.

There was something in this huge, brown eyes of Ariadne. Something Arthur can't define. He's only sure it disappeared when he told her to leave him alone.

Arthur stifles the urge to groan loudly; thinking about Ariadne brings a huge headache.

Arthur has never put anything to do later, but for Ariadne he decides to make an exception.

You need to be much stronger to face Ariadne, even in your own mind.

"And how's Miles?", Ariadne asks, sipping her espresso. It's not even in half that tasty as the one made by Arthur, she notices involuntary.

"No idea.", Oliver shrugs. "He left month ago, rumor says that he went back to USA, but you know, nobody knows for sure. Are you ok? You look pale?"

"I… Yes, I'm fine.", Ariadne answers absently. "It means he's not here?", she ensures desperately.

Oliver sighs in irritation. "Didn't you listen? That's exactly what I said."

"Oh, I need to go, there're things I have to do.", Ariadne stands up rapidly. "So see you later, ok?", she adds already coming away from table.

Ariadne was so sure that here, in Paris, she'll get her chance to talk with Miles about everything, that news about his departure almost make her cry.

It means that she's all alone.

There's nobody she could speak with about Dreams.

Nobody who wants to speak with her about Dreams.

Fine.

Ariadne looks around. She's twenty three, she's still a student, there's Paris streets around her and money waiting in bank account.

What more she could possibly want?

When steppes in the nearest Travel Agency she's almost convinced that nothing.

It's getting dark when Ariadne finally comes back home. She spent a couple of hours just walking on streets of Paris, enjoying the beauty of its architecture.

She's near her flat when she notices somebody sitting on the wall beside the tenement house door. It's a man, Ariadne notices, holding her breaths.

When headlamps of passing be car lightens him, Ariadne finally starts breathing again.

It's just Oliver.

"Hey.", she says softly, smiling. "What are you doing here?"

"I was waiting for you.", Oliver answers and stands up. "Ariadne… I missed you.", he reaches his hand and Ariadne lets him put her into tight embrace.

The feeling of his arm around is nice and familiar. It brings a sensation of safety and Ariadne allowed herself sunk into it. She burrows her face in his baggy t-shirt, trying not to be disappointed that it's not a tailored jacket.

"Will you come inside?", she asks eventually and immediately feel the happiness in Oliver. She catches his hand and steppes inside building, Oliver follows her.

He seems to slightly overwhelmed by her enthusiasm, so it's Ariadne who starts kissing him.

Firstly gently kiss quickly turns to more compassionate one; Oliver gently fingers her neck and Ariadne shivers at this touch, finally letting her body wins over mind.

And only very, very deep inside her soul something repeats that he's not the one, she was waiting for…

In the morning Ariadne wakes up, feeling strange in her own bed. She lays still for a couple of seconds trying to decide what had changed and she finally realizes; that's another body lying in her in this bed.

Oliver.

Panic washes over her and for a moment she's not sure whatever she want to kiss him or kick him off the bed. Eventually she simply stands up, grabs clothes and heads toward bathroom.

She stares into the mirror for a moment. There's a lovebite on her neck and Ariadne rubs it absently. She feels somehow out of place; there's intelligent and handsome man laying in her bed, with who spend one of the most interesting and intensive nights of her life and yet…

It's not exactly like it should be. Somewhere inside her is regret, which Ariadne hates; it means that she still has some stupid dreams, about life that's not destined for her.

She shakes her head; the woman in mirror does the same.

"It's me." , Ariadne speaks quietly. "And that's my life, there won't be another one."

Ariadne has never thought about Oliver as a romantic man, so single red rose standing on kitchen table surprise her utterly. She touches its petals gently.

"Where…", she starts her question.

"On the other side of street.", Oliver answers hastily. "You like it?"

"It's beautiful.", Ariadne answers honestly. "I didn't know that you have romantic soul.", she smiles.

"I didn't know it, too.", Oliver shrugs and answers with smile. "I saw those leaflets and brochures… Are you going to Rome?"

"I'm planning it, yes.", Ariadne answers absently and then an idea comes to her head. "Maybe… Maybe you'll go with me?"

Oliver grins. "Sure, I'll go."

The heat is overwhelming. Ariadne closes her eyes with loud groan. The pain in her head is almost homicidal and the way Oliver drives car doesn't help; Ariadne's sure that they'll crash soon. If she felt a little better, she would never let him drive.

"Oliver, please, just don't knock down anybo…", the rest of sentence is interrupted by loud crack. Ariadne opens her eyes rapidly and with hint of resignation she realizes that Oliver somehow managed to rearend.

"Shit.", she says and closes her eyes again. She hears Oliver getting out the car and sighs.

They came to Rome week ago and everything is completely messed up. Ariadne too late realized that Oliver as a friend and as a lover means complete another thing.

Of course they have many things in common: architecture, the way they're looking at world, similar interests and taste, but…

Ariadne's mind somehow manages to turn every Oliver's upside into failure. And failure into something even worse.

"You, Frenchman, who gave you driving license?", Ariadne hears and voice is strangely familiar to her. She gets out of car and freezes.

A couple meters away from her, yelling at her boyfriend, stands Eames.