A/N: Hi, there! I had a huge smile for those of you, who reviewed. That's what keep me in writting this story, so please, don't stop. I think this chapter is a little lighter thab previous ones (after all both Arthur and Ariadne deserve some happiness, I'm definitely way to much cruel for them;)

Enjoy!

There was a heavy and awkward silence between Eames and Ariadne during their ride. Neither of them looked at each other or even breathed loudly.

It seemed that there was nothing to disturb this omnipotent silence.

At least to the moment when Eames suddenly drove off the road and parked on pavement.

Ariadne finally looked at him, utterly shocked.

"What are you doing?", she asked with slight hint of fear in her voice.

Eames glanced at her, forcing a weak smile to his lips.

"Oh, nothing.", he answered nonchalantly. Too nonchalantly. "I just want you to answer my question."

Ariadne sat wordlessly.

"Why did you do that?", Eames asked, eventually loosing the mask of causality.

"I…", Ariadne gulped. "I don't know.", she finished lamely. "Why are you asking? It's not important, we both know that…"

"That Arthur is the one, who's important.", Eames interrupted. "It's even hard to blame you for that. He's… He's Arthur.", he added, his voice softening.

"So why are you asking?", Ariadne demanded.

Eames sighted. "Ariadne, I'm not attacking you, if it's what you think.", he said patiently. "I participated in everything what happened that night too, remember?"

Ariadne flinched and blushed slightly at his words.

"So why?", she asked quietly not looking straight aside.

"Why am I keeping asking? Love, I'm taking you home to another man, right now after having sex with you! Is that really so strange that I want to know why you wanted to do that?"

"I don't know. ", Ariadne answered after short silence. Maybe I knew at that time, but now… Now I want to go home and forget everything."

Eames narrowed his eyes. "Sound a little cruel.", he observed casually."And… You think you'll forget soon, don't you? Well, let me tell you something: you won't."

With that he started up the engine and silence once again gained mastery in car.

When they finally reached their place of destination, both of them were relieved. They didn't have to say anything to each other; Eames wasn't coming in.

Ariadne hesitated before she stepped off car.

"Eames, I didn't want to hurt you.", she said tentatively.

Eames laughed bitterly, but his voice was serious. "I know. I know, Ariadne."

She knew that he meant it and she wouldn't get anything more, so just got off from car.

The path linking gate and front door had never felt so long before. This couple of meters were like eternity for Ariadne; pictures of Arthur and Eames constantly appearing in her mind and mixing with each other, until there was nothing more than just blurry image of human beings.

Ariadne climbed up the stairs and stopped in front of the doors. She knew that she didn't have keys, so she needed to use the door bell. It was surprisingly hard, her fingers felt numb and rigid.

She screamed instinctively when doors opened all of sudden, before she could press door bell.

"Ariadne?", she heard, familiar voice filled with mixed feelings of fear, surprise and, mostly, relief.

"Arthur. Arthur.", she made step suddenly finding herself in his arms. To her great surprise he still matched them as perfect as always; the last night didn't change it. She buried her face in his chest, for the first time since the nightmare had started letting herself lose all her guards.

"I's sorry. I'm sorry.", she sobbed wetting his cloth with her tears. Arthur gently pushed up her head and looked intently in her eyes.

"Don't.", he said decidedly. "Please, don't. It's me, who… I…"

Ariadne found herself smiling; Arthur was still terrible with apologizing, as always. Just for a second it felt like nothing had changed.

And when Arthur caught her lips with quick and chaste kiss she thought that it might be the truth; maybe nothing had changed after all.

Eames tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

For the first time in his adult life he was unsure what to do with himself.

It wasn't that he'd never been abandoned by woman before (even if usually he was the one to abandon).

It wasn't that he wanted desperately to be with Ariadne (even if something deep inside him actually screamed that he want).

It was that he couldn't bring himself to lie to Arthur. No matter how harsh their relationship was, looking into the face of Arthur after having sex with Ariadne was something beyond Eames's imagination.

He wondered briefly how Ariadne'd manage that, but Eames always firmly believed that women are better liars than men.

It 's her problem after all, isn't it?, crossed his mind. He caught this thought desperately; it was his only way to freedom: act as nonchalantly, as in every past day.

He lighted up cigarette and watched idly billows of smoke.

He knew that the best solution would be to leave country, maybe go back to Mombasa, maybe find some new interesting place to stay.

But it wasn't exactly like him; it seemed like giving up (even if there was nothing Eames could fight for).

He sighted heavily, for a second wishing that Cobb had never found a petite architect to join them in making the impossibility.

But then… She had amazingly beautiful body.

Eames found himself smirking at this thought. He opened the door, snapped the butt on the roadside and started the engine.