Disclaimer: I do not own Inception or 11:07 PM by Dizzy Mizz Lizzy.
Summary: "It all started with a dress." Back in Paris, Ariadne tries to cope post-Inception while she longs for Arthur, wondering if any of it was real. Then she buys a dress.
Warning: Explicit, mature content.
'I haven't read the news, saddened and confused, and dream; in my life I swear, I saw you standing there'
It all started with a dress.
With her simple leather bag over her shoulder Ariadne had exited LAX airport and felt the sun shine on her face. For a much too brief moment, it had filled her with peace.
Around her everyone pushed and shoved to get ahead or hail a taxi. A quick glimpse of Eames. And there, unmistakably Arthurs neck, held straight and tense.
She had secured her grip on her bag then called for him. But by then he was lost in the sea of foreign, unfriendly faces. She clutched her totem; memories of hostile projections sprang to mind.
Her throat had closed up, tunnel vision, black spots.
On a quick notion, she had turned on her heel and headed back inside the airport to buy her ticket for Paris. There was a line, of course, and she had to spend half a day inside the airport, waiting for her flight.
Foolishly, she knew, she had looked for him on the plane.
A sweet and smiling stewardess offered both blanket and pillow to her 'so she could sleep on the flight'. Did she dare? Was she already asleep?
Her totem was in the bottom of her carry-on bag. Her thought elsewhere Ariadne had forgotten to remove it from her coat pocket when she'd passed through the metal detectors. To make sure no security guard touched it she had hurriedly thrown it in the bag.
As soon as the fasten seatbelt sign had been switched off, she pulled the bag into her lap, found the bishop and tipped it over on the tray table. It fell and almost rolled over the edge. With relief she slipped it back into her pocket and wrapped herself in the comforter.
The job had exhausted her, naturally, as well as the jetlag she was experiencing and Ariadne wanted to sleep. An hour before they landed she finally dozed off. And she had no trouble dreaming; she was Ariadne in Wonderland and the rabbit stressed her out, not because he was rushing her for her an 'important appointment', but because she was allergic to rabbits and she couldn't get away from him.
She didn't make her appointment either and when she was gently shaken awake and asked to put her seat in an upright position she almost felt more exhausted than before she had slept.
The dreams of Wonderland had been following her since childhood.
Ariadne's parents had been older than average when they'd had her and when her mother died of cancer it wasn't long until her father had passed away as well. They had been good parents, but since she was little Ariadne had felt estranged from them. It was as if their love for each other was greater than their love for her. She couldn't really be angry with them for something like that.
She had an aunt somewhere, but that was pretty much what family she had left.
With her inheritance, she had put down a deposit on her tiny Parisian apartment and started her fabulous life there, studying architecture. She hadn't made any really close friends yet, only acquaintances.
She couldn't imagine going back to them, she felt older and much more experienced now that she had knowledge of what could be created within her mind.
It was a huge comfort to her that she at least still felt her heart swell with passion and admiration as she saw the city of Paris. The white buildings, the Eiffel tower in the far distance, the thunderous boulevards and even the fashion on the street were a part of it.
And after all, it had all started with a dress.
Taking a longer leave from school, the classes suddenly bored her, she avoided her old group of 'friends' and professor Miles, as he asked to be called, of course wasn't there at the moment. So instead Ariadne had spent a couple of weeks in her shoebox of apartment, barely eating or sleeping, staring into her wall.
She hadn't gotten much out of it except a tremendous desire to paint her walls.
One day she had woken up to sunlight streaming in through her dirty windows, revealing how much her place was in need of cleaning as well, and an urge to go outside and experience the world. The real world.
She had stayed clear of all newspapers and television since the job. She didn't want to know if the inception had been successful, she didn't want to think about anything concerning the job at all.
She showered for the first time in longer time than she cared to admit, put her brown hair up in a ponytail high on her head and dressed like usual.
Jeans, a comfortable t-shirt, a pretty scarf and her solid brown boots and red cardigan. She felt like Bambi on ice when she walked outside. She had expected everything to be changed now that she ventured out into the world again.
But the cobbled stones still made her twist her ankle, drivers still honked at their slightest frustration and in the café on the corner they still remembered her usual order. She swallowed her coffee and buttered croissant in a hurry.
Amazed at how food still tasted delicious, Ariadne set out to make more discoveries. Her hands ran over the rough, white mortar of an apartment duplex. She stole a rose from their garden and didn't care that a branch tore a tiny hole in the pocket of her jeans.
Her thoughts drifted to those people who had originally built up this city. Her city. Could she ever, even in dreams, think up something as fantastic as Paris?
It wasn't long after that humble thought that Ariadne nearly passed a tiny shop window. In the corner of her eye she caught sight of what she had thought was another scarf for her collection. It turned out to be a dress. Thin straps, tight around the bust and then flowing from the waist down in a green, white and black silk pattern.
She was not a dress girl at all. But this one called out to her. It would go below her knees and with her short legs she would have to wear it with heels, something she wasn't thrilled about, but she still had to have it. The flow of the dress would at least hide her somewhat butch way of walking.
With the dress safely packed away in a paper bag, she let it dangle from her fingertips as she wandered aimlessly around. She wasn't ready to return to her apartment, but she was out of places she wished to visit as well.
Without realizing it Ariadne found herself standing in front of the anonymous door leading into the warehouse. She nearly dropped the bag as her fingers reached out on their own for the handle. She hesitated. Was this a good idea?
Apparently it was still under Arthur's lease. Either that or he had forgotten to return the key they had hidden outside for Eames who always lost his own copy.
The clicking sounds of the heels on her boots echoed through out the empty space. All of the furniture still stood as they had left them. Overcome with emotion Ariadne sunk down on the nearest lawn chair.
It squeaked in protest, but she chose to ignore it. Being here she felt so connected to Arthur. The same connection she had felt when, she remembered with a thrill, he'd first complimented her for a job well done or in the frustration when he cut-throat pointed out flaws in her design. The occasional shared dream when they were alone and both needed a break.
Drawing up her knees and making herself more comfortable on the chair, Ariadne had no clue how long she had been lying there when a voice startled her so bad she jumped up screaming.
"I don't have your cell phone number."
Arthur stood casually leaned against the nearest pillar, impeccably dressed in one of his three piece suits, looking at her.
Drowsy and unable to grasp the fact the he was actually there, Ariadne dug out her bishop from her coat pocket and flicked it. In the silence between them she clearly heard the totem fall down.
"Arthur?" she asked in a daze, and not until he nodded, did she lung forward, enveloping him in a hug that obviously took him by surprise.
He patted her back awkwardly "I'm sorry if I scared you." was all he could think of saying. He stopped patting her back and just let his fingertips rest on her shoulder, until she let go. She still amazed him, with her youth and her innocence, and the way she just touched him, like now.
"Never mind. I just didn't expect to see you. I mean, anyone." Ariadne prattled on quickly. She hadn't let herself think of the job or anything it entailed at all. But he had still been in her thoughts all the time.
And now he was here, so close she could effortlessly touch him if she wanted to. And she did.
"Well I had no intentions of returning to Paris so soon, but you weren't to be found anywhere stateside. And like I said, I don't have your cell phone number." Arthur explained while adjusting his silk tie.
Her brown eyes shone "You looked for me?"
"It's my job to take care of the details, Ariadne, I had to make sure you were okay. Your first serious experience with dream sharing was Inception, if you weren't feeling alright, you could've compromised all of us." He pulled out an office chair for her, thinking it was more comfortable than the lawn chair. His job was details and he didn't miss her look of hurt.
"Oh, well I am doing fine." Ariadne lied, wanting mostly to run away from the warehouse now, fast as she could. But instead she sat down. Admittedly, she was curious as hell.
Pulling up another chair, Arthur sat down in front of her. They were so close their knees nearly bumped together. He caught her eye "You look tired though. Are you still dreaming?" he was so run-of-the-mill, by-the-book professional about his queries it annoyed Ariadne.
"That's a very personal question, Arthur. Am I done with my physical?" she asked, faking exasperation.
"Do you still dream?"
Ariadne sighed. They were both so stubborn she might as well just give in and get it over with "Yes."
"Good. Any trouble falling asleep?"
"How is your schoolwork?"
"I'm still on my leave."
"Do you eat regularly?"
Hesitation. "I try."
"Have you eaten today?"
"Are you hungry now?"
"Yes." Ariadne answered without thinking that the question had nothing to do with her health. Her perfectly plucked eyebrows knitted together as she frowned at him.
Arthur had that little smirk of his "I am inviting you to dinner." he revealed, packing away the notebook and Mont Blanc pen he had been using to jot down her answers.
"It's a Friday night in Paris, we will never get a table." This was as close as she could get to tell him no.
"I have a reservation at Le Meurice, good enough for you?"
She hid the fact that she was stunned he had gotten a reservation there and wanted to use it with her. Ariadne still felt hurt by the way he had implied she would compromise the rest of the team and she tried to turn down his invitation again "I can't go there dressed like this Arthur."
"We can stop by your place so you can change." he brushed her off, already getting up.
Ariadne clutched her bag and imagined herself in the dress next to Arthur. They would make a stunning couple if he kept that suit on.
"Let's go." She gave in and jumped up from her chair. Arthur merely shook his head at her sudden mood swing and followed her out on the street, locking up the warehouse. With a knowing grin, Ariadne hid the spare-key.
They started walking in the direction of her apartment until suddenly she stopped "How did you know, I would be in the warehouse? You have to have known since you made the reservation and all?"
Arthur cleared his throat "Trick of fate, I actually arrived yesterday."
She dropped the subject, but knew there was something he wasn't telling her; the Arthur she knew didn't believe in tricks of fate.
Inside Ariadne sat Arthur in her only armchair and skipped up the short stairs that led to a raised platform where her bedroom was. Aside from the bathroom the entire apartment was one open space though, so Ariadne changed in the bathroom.
She let her hair out of her ponytail and was pleased to see how it curled on her shoulders, bare except the tiny straps of the dress. She secured a simple, gold watch around her wrist and left in her two gold studs in her earlobes as her only jewellery.
Putting on the only pair of high heels she owned, a simple black pair, she looked in the mirror and tried to calm herself down. But her cheeks were still flushed with excitement and her palms were sweaty from nerves.
It was a warm night and none of her jackets or sweaters really went with the pretty dress so she opted not to wear one. To her horror though she realized she wouldn't have any pockets. As she wasn't bringing her book bag, the only purse she owned, she wouldn't have anywhere to keep her totem.
Peaking out the bathroom door and down at Arthur who was flipping through an architectural magazine she decided to take a leap of faith and leave the brass bishop at home.
Ariadne walked down the stairs very uncertain, because of the heels, and out of balance. Arthur gently grabbed her hand and helped her down the last step "You look wonderful. Let's call a cab, shall we?"
She nodded. There it was again, like she had remembered, that thrill of receiving a compliment, any compliment, from him.
The luxurious décor of Le Meurice enthralled Ariadne from her architectural point of view and she pointed out little things for Arthur to notice while they were being led to their table. It was a small, private one by a window so they could enjoy a wonderful view as well.
Arthur ordered champagne in French and Ariadne couldn't stifle a giggle, his accent was terrible.
The champagne however suited their appetizer of duck foie gras very well and Arthur was entertained to see how much Ariadne enjoyed the food, clearly savouring every bite while eagerly awaiting their next course.
She thought they would switch to wine, but Arthur insisted on staying with champagne.
Up until they were served their entrée, the veal sweetbread with leeks and bacon, they didn't run out of things to talk about. Arthur, whose job it was to contact everybody on the team and make sure no one had been discovered, brought Ariadne up to date and she devoured every information like she devoured the delicious food.
"You know, you were supposed to stay at least a couple of days and lie low." he accused her when he was done telling her the heart warming story of seeing Cobb with his children.
Ariadne lowered her gaze and peaked at Arthur through her long lashes. That look did something to him.
"I know, but I didn't know where to go, and I tried getting a hold of you by the airport, but before I knew it you and Eames were gone. And I didn't even see Yusuf. So I panicked and just went home." she shrugged carelessly, loosened up by the champagne, and emptied her glass.
Arthur should be lecturing her on the importance of following the protocol, but he hesitated. Their evening was going so well, and he hadn't just flown to Paris to check up on her, besides she had looked at him like that.
So he filled up her glass again and asked if she wanted dessert.
"I do." her eyes sparkled with anticipation for what taste sensations lay ahead of her.
Of course the waiter took Ariadne's order first and she couldn't wait to taste the warm chocolate mousse cake. Their server turned to Arthur and he could practically see Ariadne's mind trying to guess what he would order, if it was something she could have a taste of as well.
"I'm afraid I'm too full for dessert," he said apologetically "just coffee for me, please."
Ariadne looked startled "You're not having dessert? There were so many to choose from!"
"I'm hoping for a bite of yours." Arthur said.
Trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach at the way he'd slowly said those words, giving her an unmistakable look. She set her tall glass back down. If she was going to keep her cool around him, she really shouldn't drink anymore.
"Depends on how good it is." she answered coyly.
He simply smiled and played with the cloth napkin in his lap. For some reason the sight of his long fingers gliding along the silky fabric was highly sensual to Ariadne.
She let out a sigh of relief when the waiter served their coffee and her dessert. He laid an extra fork for Arthur.
Before Ariadne could taste anything, Arthur had sunk the fork into the soft cake and offered the bite to her. He knew he was torturing himself, watching her plumb lips part, they way her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips before she leaned forward took the cake in her mouth. He wasn't sure if she knew what she was doing when she swallowed the bite and let out a tiny moan of satisfaction.
"That good, huh?"
Ariadne nodded, picking up her own fork "Do you want to taste?"
Arthur swallowed audibly and fingered with his tie like earlier "No, thank you."
"You're missing out."
They finished the meal mostly in a comfortable silence, paid the astronomical bill and left the restaurant. Instead of instantly hailing a cab like she had thought he would, Arthur shoved his hands in his pockets and asked her to walk with him.
Ariadne would gladly walk the long way back to her apartment if it meant he didn't have to leave yet.
Even though the upscale area was not where she came most, Paris was still her city, and there was a special place she wanted to show him. It was a little garden almost, hidden away from the bustling sounds of the city and the only thing to be heard was the soothing sounds of water from a stone fountain in the centre of the area.
Kicking off her heels Ariadne sat on the edge of fountain and sunk her feet in the cool water "Ahh, those shoes have been killing my feet all night." she whined, enjoying the effect of the water on her blistered toes.
Arthur sat down next to her, but kept his feet dry.
His shoulder almost touched hers and Ariadne was tempted to scoot a little closer. But first she had to get one thing settled.
"How did you know I was going to be in the warehouse? I didn't even know until five minutes before I walked in."
More fumbling with the tie and clearing of his throat. Arthur looked away when he finally answered her "I had a dream you would be there. Waiting for me. I woke up at exactly 11:07 PM and before I knew it I was on the first flight to Paris."
He expected her to be confused, to wonder, like he did, how it was even possible a dream could've revealed that. A real dream, that is. He did not expect her to say "So you do still dream, Arthur?" with a twinkle in her eye.
Shaking his head, he clarified "No, not normally. That's why I knew it had to mean something."
Now she looked confused.
"I didn't think you were the sort to give dreams like that any sort of meaning. You're always so … well you."
"I wouldn't have under other circumstances," he explained, taking a deep breath before continuing "I don't think I would have reacted if it wasn't because it was you in my dream, Ariadne. You mean something to me."
Despite the fact that he had, in a moment where they didn't know for sure they would make it out of the inception unscathed, tricked a kiss out of her, Ariadne hadn't thought she would ever hear a confession like that from Arthur. Her mentor. The Point Man.
She gave his hand a single squeeze "I care for you too."
Arthur nodded. He already knew. Ariadne was still too young to have that women's intuition about these sorts of things, but he had lived long enough to pick up on her signals. He just didn't know if it was the mystique that surrounded him and his profession that left a short-lived fascination with her or if she really cared for him. If this was worth taking a leap of faith for.
When Ariadne invited him back to her apartment with him, he went. He had already told her earlier that he was leaving to go back the very next day, there were no false hope to encourage by going with her.
On the cab ride they were both quiet, only stealing a glance every now and then, their fingertips gently touching over the seat in between them.
Walking up the long flight of stairs anticipation built in Arthur's stomach. He wanted her so badly. Her warm body beneath his, alive and in vigour.
Once inside Ariadne shifted from one foot to another, nervously. She offered Arthur a cup of tea, but he calmly declined, taking off his jacket and hanging it over the back of her office chair. Ariadne had unceremoniously dumped her shoes right by the door and mentally kicked herself for not keeping the place a bit more neat.
Anxiously she began cleaning up some clutter while Arthur watched her in amusement, as he so often did. She knew he knew why she had invited him home, but it was not something she did every day and she wasn't sure how to go about it. If only he would make the first move.
He was older than her, and probably more experienced, it was only natural. But she had been the one to sort of initiate this.
Arthur could tell of her inner turmoil and only let her stew a bit longer, before he caught her wrist and whispered in her ear "I'll have my dessert now."
Ariadne let out a nervous chuckle, but turned around and kissed him, much like last time, brief and maddening.
"Come upstairs." Now it was her turn to take a hold of him, her shyness almost forgotten as she brought him to her bedroom and pulled him along with her down on the messy bed.
Nervous about noisy neighbours Ariadne picked up a small remote from her bedside table and turned on her stereo.
Edith Piaf's voice filled the room. 'La Vie En Rose', not 'Je Ne Regrette Rien' – she couldn't listen to that song anymore.
When she turned back Arthur was removing, shoes, socks and his vest. He started working on the knot of his tie, but Ariadne's hand reached out and stopped him. She sat up on her knees, feeling the mattress sink a little beneath her, and carefully opened the loop enough to tug the precious silk tie off him.
He caught her hands and kissed her, properly this time, their tongues finding each other for the first time, setting her entire body aflame. He kissed her breathless.
And yet it was only a tiny drop in the pool of their want, they both craved so much more. Slowly they undressed. Ariadne with her back turned to Arthur. She was afraid to herself to him. Her breasts were too small, her hips were too square, her legs were too short.
She hadn't worn a bra beneath the dress and when she'd finally tugged it off, she hugged herself and turned around, covering as much of herself as she could, giving him that look again.
Arthur had undressed completely and sat back down on her bed again, beckoning her to come closer. She kept one arm over her chest, still bashful, but let the other search him.
Her skilled fingertips found scars, his chest hair, a birthmark, imperfections, perfectly defined muscles and everything else there was to discover. He laid down flat on his back, not the least bit ashamed that his arousal stuck out so obviously.
Ariadne straddled him, still wearing her lace panties and covering up as well as she could. His rough palms settled on her hips and he let out a pleased sigh; she was as warm as he had hoped.
Not until she was pressed against him did Ariadne move her hands. They found their way around Arthurs neck.
He kissed her closed eyes "You are very beautiful, little girl." he murmered.
Encouraged by the honesty in his raspy voice Ariadne rolled off him, and it was her turn to lie flat on her back. Arthur propped himself up on his side, trailing patterns on her cheek and over her forehead with the lightest of touch while he was taking in the stunning sight of her young body.
She was not yet marred by occupational scars or other signs of a hard life. She was the picture of innocence as she lay there, clearly apprehensive about revealing her pert breasts with hardening nipples to him.
He kissed her again and she caught his head, whispering in her ear that he could finish undressing her. He hooked a finger in each side of the flimsy material and pulled the underwear off of her, letting it drop in their pile of clothes next to the bed.
For a second he sat on his knees, observing her, savouring the details. But the night outside had turned cold and so had the apartment. Ariadne was clearly cold and he blanketed her body with his own.
After several more drugging, slow kisses and a bite to her creamy shoulder Arthur felt that she was ready and slid within her. Heavenly bliss. He drew out each thrust, enjoying each and every second.
Ariadne's teeth chattered, but she barely noticed. This was the connection she had really wanted to feel between them. Her nails dug into Arthur's back, her legs wound around his knees, her moans urged him to go faster, seeking that sweet release.
But true to his self Arthur was thorough and took his time, bringing her to the brink of oblivion, before hauling her back, repeating it over and over. In reality they were on a cheep mattress in a Parisian apartment, but really they were a soaring Chagall couple, so high, up above the city roofs.
When Ariadne began moving more rapidly beneath him Arthur couldn't stand it anymore and emptied himself inside of her with a roar.
Ariadne clung to him, as if clinging to life, riding the wave with him and feeling his ecstasy she came undone herself.
When they had both caught their breath Arthur, like the gentleman he was, fished out his crisp, white shirt from the pile on the floor and dressed Ariadne in it, tucking the duvet over them both and holding her so close against himself he nearly crushed her to his body. Not only to warm her up, but because he wanted as much of her as he could get before he would have to leave the next morning.
Ariadne kissed the bicep she was resting her head on, murmuring something Arthur couldn't quite make out. He smiled and told her to go to sleep. It still claimed her easier than it did him. He didn't mind though. Not right now.
To her surprise Ariadne woke up early the next morning, before Arthur. She was happy he had dressed her last night. Despite their intimacy it was now full on daylight and she was modest. Carefully she slipped out of his grasp and tiptoed into the bathroom. She peed, brushed her teeth and straightened out her hair a little. With a last squirt of perfume she exited the bathroom and put her panties on before climbing back into bed and into his arms.
Gently shaking him she pretended she had woken up like that. It was too tempting when she could tease him about his hair, usually slicked back, that stuck up in all directions.
"Well someone kept tugging at it." Arthur teased her right back and took delight in the blush on her cheeks.
They kept all conversation that morning light and teasing, as they made coffee, toasted some leftover bread Ariadne found in her cupboard and read each their section of the newspaper. Arthur was only wearing his briefs and Ariadne still had on his shirt.
He enjoyed the sight of her in it too much to take the shower he longed for. Ariadne caught him looking at her over the edge of the paper and she playfully threw a piece of crust at him. She could get used to mornings like this.
"Can't you extend your stay?" she asked with a pout, breaking their illusion.
Arthur folded the paper neatly "No, I'm sorry. I have to see Cobb about more legal ways to exploit our talents now that he is a family man again."
Biting her lip Ariadne held back any arguments she might have made. Instead she suggested that she could come with him.
"Little girl," Arthur sighed. Last night Ariadne had enjoyed the nickname. Now she found it demeaning. "You have to stay here and figure out your life. You have a disputation I know you need to finish, and you have another choice to make. If you wish to stay in my profession. You are a raw talent, but you have also already achieved to be a part of the probably biggest experience you'll try within Dream Sharing. And you still have a shot at finding joy at a, let's say, normal occupation."
Ariadne sulked. She knew he was probably right.
Arthur gave her shoulder a gentle pat as he walked by her to take that shower. She knew he would have to leave now, there was no prolonging his stay. She got dressed and folded his shirt for him so he would have it when he got out of the shower.
Did she want to join the world of dreams? So much would be at risk.
By the time Arthur finished and descended down the stairs she had decided to get her degree and then make her decision. She told Arthur.
"That sounds very wise."
"Can I come with you to the airport?" she asked cautiously, not sure if this might mean more to her than to him, if he had another reason for not wanting her to come with him.
He pulled her close "I might not leave if you do."
With the brief feel of his lips against hers he was gone. Ariadne sunk down in her armchair, wanting to cry, but no tears came. She kicked the leg of her coffee table. But she couldn't really muster any anger either.
At least she had slipped a note in the pocket of his trousers with her phone number on it.
Six months later Ariadne graduated with flying colours. Professor Miles was at the ceremony and as soon as all formalities were over she sought him out.
"Congratulations Miss Page." He shook her hand and she beamed under his proud eyes. After she made sure no one was standing close enough to hear she asked about Cobb.
Miles looked worried "Dom is coping. Around the children he is fine, but I've detected some melancholy. It is a hard career to give up on, you know."
Was that a warning? Or did he simply speak from experience?
"I thought he and Arthur were going to try and find a legal way to go about it?" she fished for information.
Chuckling Miles looked at her "Ah yes the young Mr. Knight has been very eager, but even though Dom was cleared it is only officially Ariadne. There are still a lot of people who believed him to be Mal's murderer. I'm afraid the best Extractor has left the business for good."
It saddened Ariadne to hear that about Dom, it was such a horrible accusation that he had already suffered under enough.
"But," Miles continued "as I have told Mr. Knight, that leaves a place for someone new." he smiled cryptically at her before walking away.
After having a few drinks with some people from the graduating class, Ariadne ventured home. She was tired, elated and sad all at the same time.
She had to drag herself up the stairs at the thought of the cold and empty apartment.
Outside on her doorstep sat a large parcel, wrapped in gold paper with a silver bow on it.
Her heart rate sped up when she carried it inside, there was no card, and lifted the lid of the box.
An invitation to a late supper in the Belle Etoile Royal Suite of the Le Meurice hotel. Ariadne smiled. Beneath the invitation lay a dress she was obviously expected to wear. The envelope also held a key card.
For good measure Ariadne tipped over her bishop, but this was no dream.
So that night Ariadne went to see Arthur wearing a beautiful white dress she would wear five years later at their wedding.
It all ended with a dress.
A/N: This is just such a wonderful couple, I had to write them. The dream Ariadne had of her being in Wonderland and allergic to the rabbit is actually one I had the other night. I don't know if you can tell, but I love Paris and passed the trait on to Ariadne. Even though I've seen the movie twice I still can't decide for myself if Cobb made it back or not, but here he did. I am thinking of doing another oneshot using either Watch The Stars – Bryan Rice ft. Emilia or Kiss You Goodbye – The Loft, so give them a listen and tell me what you think. I hope you all enjoyed this oneshot and will please let me know in a review!
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