Chapter II: Dream Catchers
Ariadne opened her eyes and smiled. Arthur was lying beside her, one arm wrapped around her protectively, the other curled under himself. She touched his chest tentatively.
Ariadne opened her eyes. She was cold. Something freezing was pounding over her, and she couldn't breathe. She blinked and shook her head, trying to clear away the confusion. She opened her eyes again. She was in the shower. She was in the shower, in the workshop…in all of her clothes. She turned her head and saw Dom standing outside the spray, his hand tight around her upper arm. Then she registered Arthur, shivering beside her, his shirt and sweater drenched, supported by Eames-who was grinning like the Chesire Cat. "Soooo," Eames said rather loudly. "What did you kids…dream about? Anything fun?"
Arthur's cheeks flushed, he stared at the ceiling. "Can we get out of the shower now, please? I'm sure we're both awake."
Dom and Eames conceded and Arthur reached for a towel. Ariadne followed, looking from one to the others. "So…wait, what? What was….that?" She caught herself and forced her eyes away from Arthur, not watching his soaked hair falling over his eyes as he dried it. Eames was still smiling. "Well, judging by the sounds you two have been making for the past three hours, I'd say that was-" Arthur made a point to slam his shoulder against Eames as he fled the bathroom. It was Ariadne's turn to blush. She glanced down and found the needle mark on her wrist. "Who…who's dream was that?" she murmured. Dom left, containing a smile. Eames leaned against the doorframe, blocking Ariadne's way. "That wasn't yours?"
"No," she answered, frowning. Eames shrugged. "Hm. Must've been his then." He reached out two fingers to brush a wet piece of hair from her chest. "Can't say I blame him." She whacked his fingers away and pushed past him, scowling.
She walked as calmly as she could back to her little niche of the workshop and flopped into her chair, burying her face in her hands. 'What the hell just happened?' she thought frantically. 'Was that Arthur's dream? Did he do that on purpose? Was it an experiment? How long has he wanted to….do that? And why did I enjoy it so much?' Her internal screaming was interrupted by Eames' voice.
"So it definitely wasn't her then, darling? You should just admit it." Ariadne heard the smirk in his voice. "You want her Arthur, you randy little bastard. You wanna get up on that." WHACK. Arthur had thrown a folder full of papers at Eames as he strolled away, snickering. She closed her eyes, trying to stop the images of the dream from raising her body temperature. Eames' words echoed in her mind. You want her, Arthur. She wanted him too…
A thought suddenly occurred to her. Arthur hadn't asked her permission before he put her under. He hadn't even asked her on a freaking date! She smiled slowly as a plan formed in her mind. She would confront him. She would be subtle…but she would make him admit his feelings.