"How the heck did we lose her?" Cobb demanded angrily to his friends.

"Well, let's recap shall we," Eames said rather dryly. "Ariadne practically begged our dear Arthur her to be her white knight and come rescue her, but instead of saving her, he just left her waiting in the cold."

"Ah, yes, now I remember," Cobb replied coolly. He matched his tone with the look he was currently giving the point man.

"How is this all my fault?" Arthur asked, annoyed at his friends sarcastic comments.

Eames scoffed in disbelief and amazement at Arthur's, well, plain stupidity. "Useless."

"Arthur," Cobb pointed a hand at his best friend. "I'm not sure if you realize it, but there's something between you and Ariadne, something special. And if this keeps happening, I can't have you both working for me, and right now I'd keep her around, not you."

"Fine," Arthur said, his face tight. "I'll go talk to her."

Ariadne caught sight of a man about twenty steps from her, sitting on a park bench; a man she had been looking for since the first layer of her dream.

Hurrying her pace, she quietly sat herself down next to him.

"So you work for Cobb and Arthur's former employer, right? The one that wanted to steal something from Saito," she said, never doubting the words she spoke.

The man stared across the way at the lake in front of them, watching some baby turtles swim around. "I'm impressed. Do they know too?"

"No," Ariande shook her head. "They don't know my subconscious like I do. I am curious to know what it's called, however."

"You mean what we did to your subconscious?" The man clarified. "It's called deception."

Ariadne nodded her head. "Appropriate. I still haven't figured out why, though."

He patted her knee reassuringly. "You will, don't worry."

The man stood up to go but turned to her before leaving. "Oh, and you want my advice about Arthur-"

"Thanks, but I already have my own plan," Ariadne smirked.

"Well then, I'm sure it's a great one," the man smiled and walked away.

Ariadne was still sitting on the same wrought iron bench that she and the man had been occupying before when Arthur finally spotted her.

"Ari, can we talk?" He asked, standing off to the side of her.

"What's there to talk about?" She asked, never switching her gaze from the lake in front of her to the man beside her.

"We're trapped in a dream world that won't let you out unless you face all your fears, and your projections seem to enjoy taunting you to the point where you cry; I think there's a lot to talk about," Arthur replied, while sitting down next to her.

Ariadne sighed. "Look, if this is about what happened back at the bar, it wasn't your fault."

"No, it was all my fault," Arthur protested. "I promised you I wouldn't hurt you, and that's exactly what I did back there. I'm sorry."

"Really?" Ariadne said, moving closer to him.

Arthur's breath halted when he noticed the distance-or lack of-between them. "I really am sorry, Ari," he whispered.

She trailed her finger down the side of his cheek. "Arthur, it isn't your fault."

"It is, Ari," he said, staring into her eyes.

"No, it isn't," she insisted. "It's not your fault Eames doesn't feel the same way I do."

"What?"

"What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away"

-What Hurts the Most, Cascada

a little short, sorry. any guesses what ariadne's doing?