A/N: for Legal-Asassing-006, musicchica10 and Marianne you all get a pet dragunicorn (unicorn with fangs and dragon wings :P) and a llama and a plate of cookies. These gifts will all arrive by Daydream Express and as manager of all things random and ridiculous I appreciate your pre-payment of at least one review. Thank you.
Flames and Love are both accepted, though I do prefer Love.
P.S. I don't own, but I wish I were as awesome as Chris Nolan.
"Those who dream and are dreamed of - do they know truly when they wake?"
She had been surprised to hear that name. She hadn't expected it, especially not from some slightly built girl who looked freshfaced and innocent. Innocent people shouldn't know of Gabrielle.
Therefore, she wasn't surprised when she saw Arthur picking the girl up after school the next day. After all, a relationship with Arthur would be the only thing to explain it, although she was surprised that he had shared his past with the girl.
She wouldn't admit it, but it hurt her a little, that he had already moved on. Gabrielle couldn't let go of her hurt. Knowing Gabby's pain, she hated him, just a little for it. That life had kept moving for him. That he wasn't bound by the past.
She was.
"Ari, are we still on for Saturday night?" Sophie asked. Ariadne startled out of her trance. She'd been staring at a blank sheet of paper for twenty minutes, head filled with Arthur's words. Gabrielle had killed herself. Suicide. It was something she'd never considered, not properly. Not even when she learned of how Mal died, although perhaps that was because Mal seemed like part of a dream, rather than a reality. She felt guilty for some reason, as though she had stolen Arthur from her.
Although how one could steal from a dead woman seemed strange to Ariadne.
"Hmmm? Of course."
"That's great," Sophie smiled. "I can't wait to introduce you two - she's into conceptual architechture too, like you; so I thought you'd get along." Sophie's enthusiasm was contagious, and Ariadne forgot about Gabrielle and smiled.
"She sounds like a nice person."
"She is," Sophie nodded. "But what I really want to see is your boyfriend. Have you invited him?"
"No, not yet," Ariadne admitted. "I just haven't gotten around to it. I'll tell him tonight."
"Alright," Sophie collected her books and picked up her bag. "I'll see you tomorrow then."
"Alright, bye." Ariadne watched her friend leave the library, before sighing and packing up her own things. She hadn't managed to get a single piece of work done, her mind was so caught up in the drama of Arthur and Gabrielle. She hoped he would tell her the full story soon, so that she might put her mind to rest.
"Why? Why did you do it?" She was crying. Her breathing was laboured as she sucked in shuddering, gasping breaths. Her hands shook but the gun remained in her hands, molded around paralyzed fingers.
"Put the gun down, I'll tell you everything," Arthur watched himself take a step towards her, speaking softly and slowly. He didn't want to spook her - didn't want to scare her into doing something she'd regret.
He'd visited these memories many times, creating a dream cage like Dom had of Mal - but he had long since swept that cage away. Still he dreamed the memories so vividly, he sometimes wondered if he'd landed in Limbo and created a world without escape from his past. Yet the loaded die he often threw assured him this was not the case.
He watched, as he'd watched so many times before, as the bullet whizzed past his ear. Watched as the door opened...
"GABBY, DON'T!" Arthur shot up in bed, breathing heavily. He glanced around, and relaxed visibly when he noticed Ariadne lying with her back to him at the edge of the bed. He sighed in relief and tiredness and shook his head. He'd always wanted Dom to let go of his obsession for Mal, thinking he'd done so with Gabrielle - but it seemed that she was resurfacing in his life, and even his subconcious thought it was time for him to deal with it.
He rolled over, throwing an arm around his girlfriend, drawing her near and taking comfort from her.
"Don't leave me," he whispered in to her hair, kissing the top of her head. He took a few deep breaths and drifted back to sleep.
Ariadne stared wide-eyed at the wall, afraid to even ask tomorrow what Arthur was going through. The nightmare had sounded terrifying, like some kind of horror movie - a trainwreck you couldn't stop but had to watch. Don't leave me? What did that mean? Ariadne bit her lip, and feared for her boyfriend, unable to help him in any way, because suddenly her curiousity had failed her, and she didn't want to find out any more.
"Chaos is never organized, but sometimes I suspect the universe conspires..."
"Ari! You made it!" Sophie grinned and ran up to her friend, hugging the small girl tightly.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Ariadne grinned, hugging back. When the two broke apart, she gently took Arthur's hand and brought him forward. "This is my boyfriend, please don't scream or faint in excitement. It would be embarrassing."
Sophie rolled her eyes and flashed Ariadne an innocent smile. "I would never. Sophie Benoit, it's a pleasure."
Arthur took her proffered hand and kissed it like a gentleman. "Arthur Morgan, the pleasure's all mine."
"The quiet one is my boyfriend, Neil," Sophie explained, as the dark haired man in the booth waved shyly before turning back to the menu. Sophie rolled her eyes.
"Nicki isn't here yet, but she called ahead and said she'd be late, so we can get settled and order." Sophie explained, sitting down beside her boyfriend. Ariadne slid into the booth beside the blonde and Arthur followed suit. "I hear the fettunccine carbonara here is amazing."
The group ordered their food and drinks, with Sophie guessing a dish for the abstent Nicki. The two girls chatted about school and gossip, while the boyfriends seemed to bond over a mutual love of the Matrix.
Therefore, it was not until halfway through the meal, when a flustered, dark-haired girl flopped into the seat beside Neil that things became messy.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she said to Sophie, shaking the rain out of her hair and shrugging out of her coat. "This rain is terrible, and you will not believe the argument I had with Brock. It lasted hours I swear."
"Ariadne, Arthur, this is Nicki," Sophie grinned, but neither of the pair were listening. In fact, they had both become pale as ghosts, and the newcomer froze when she saw Arthur's face. There seemed to be some sort of sluggish stickiness in the air, muting sound and slowing movement until the whole world was swimming through liquid glass as thick as molasses.
"Devon?" Arthur frowned. And just like that, the world snapped back into motion - though somehow the noise around them was louder and harsher than they remembered it being before.
"You two know each other?" Sophie asked.
"Nichole Devon," the dark-haired girl offered a hand to Ariadne, smiling warmly. The Architect found herself shaking the hand of the very same girl who had been haunting her for the past week, and she was so cold with dread and shock she felt as though she was shaking hands with a ghost.
"Ariadne Benedict."
Nichole dropped Ariadne's hand and turned to Sophie, pushing the awkward atmosphere aside with a flick of her hair, or at least, ignoring it. "Sophie, did you order anything for me? I'm starved, and yelling at stubborn Brock Foster sure works up an appetite."
"Here," Sophie handed her friend a plate of pasta. "Cabonara."
"My favourite, thanks," Nichole grinned, and laid her napkin delicately in her lap.
"So how do you know Nicki?" Sophie turned to Arthur, curiousity burning in her eyes. Ariadne turned to him also, but it was Nichole who answered the question.
"He dated my cousin," she said. "I only met him once, but at the time I was going through a phase." At this, she offered a sincere and embarrassed grin to her audience. "And I, kind of, dropped a bucket of paint on his car and gave him clown make up."
"That paint was pink," Arthur scowled, and Nichole shrugged good-naturedly. Ariadne gaped at the two, not understanding how they could be so at ease with each other. After something like suicide happening to a person they both loved - how could they face each other at all?
"I just didn't think you were good enough for her," Nichole explained, even as she tucked in to her pasta.
"The clown make up didn't come off for days," Arthur went on.
"She didn't mind."
Ariadne watched the exchange with growing confusion and disbelief. She stood up sharply, and the table rattled as her knees collided with the edge, causing her to swear. The group glanced up at her in curiousity. "I need some air," she explained. "Too much wine."
Without waiting for a reply, she squeezed past Arthur and marched out onto the balcony of the quaint little restaurant. The night was cold, and the air crisp with the scent of fresh-fallen rain. Goosebumps raised on her arms and she rubbed them roughly, wishing she'd brought her coat but not wanting to return to the table where Gabrielle's cousin was acting as though Arthur was nothing more than just another ex-boyfriend of her cousin's. As if he hadn't broken her heart and sent her to suicide. Ariadne thought of the people she loved. If Neil caused Sophie to commit suicide, she'd never forgive him - so how could a girl closer to Gabrielle than her own sister not hate Arthur with every fiber of her being?
"Ariadne?" She turned around and saw Arthur silhouetted in the doorway, looking concerned. She could read the question in his eyes, and knew she should answer. But how could she tell him what she herself didn't understand? She couldn't put into words how she felt, or explain the queasy uneasiness swimming in her stomach.
"Just needed some air," she said, smiling apolegetically. She watched the way her breath misted in the air, forming tiny ice crystals and then vanishing into the night. "The atmosphere in there was a little stifling."
"I know what you mean," Arthur grinned, but he probably didn't. Ariadne was sure he had no idea what kind of turmoil she'd felt in those past few minutes. "Here, take my jacket at least, it's freezing out here."
"Thanks," she smiled at him, taking the fold of cotton from his oustretched hand and slipping her arms through the sleeves. They were still a little warm, and on the collar she could smell his cologne - the one she'd bought for him in San Francisco when he'd gone to Singapore for a weekend job. She liked that he wore it for her, though he disliked colognes as a general rule - said they were a 'ridiculous and feminine waste of time and money' and 'completely unnecessary and impractical'.
She noted he still wore his expensive, useless silk vests; tonight it was a cool grey with ivory pinstripes (Arthur had told her so himself when she had compared it to his nearly identical battleship grey with beige pinstripes) and she remembered buying it with him in L.A. after Eames had spilt red wine all over his original plain grey.
She blushed when she realised that Arthur was smirking at her - that he'd caught her staring. She couldn't help it really, he was fascinating - like the Mona Lisa, and she wanted to know the secrets behind his smiles, his eyes, his tears... but not his nightmares. There are some things you simply don't touch, her mother's sensible words echoed in her head, and Ariadne buried her face in Arthur's chest.
"Do you want to go home?" he asked.
"No," she sighed, lifting her head once more. "I'd have to think of an excuse, and Sophie would be upset."
"Alright then," he took a step back and smiled at her. "Let's go back then."
A/N: Yay me! I finally managed to motivate myself to write another chapter ** and this is what I came up with. Some how I feel as though the writing isn't up to the same level as the other few chapters, but maybe I'm just having an off day (or maybe I'm out of practice)
Either way, please feel free to tell me what you think - either about my writing or what should happen next.