Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. This is a one-off. Credit to Angelofthemorning1978 whose stories inspired me to write this.

Ariadne blinked. All she remembered was sitting in the cafe, waiting for her blind date. She'd debated whether or not to contact the holder of the ad, and had had to be convinced to do so.

"Look, its only a few hours out of your life," she'd told herself whilst getting ready, looking in the mirror. "He could be a complete gentleman. And at the very least, he'll buy you dinner."

Then she'd laughed. "And he could be a complete drip."

Then she'd shrugged. "I'll never know until you go."

So she had gone. To meet the placer of the advert. All it had said was "Hardworking single man wants to meet single woman. Looks not important, intelligence a must."

She had waited for at least an hour. Checking her watch. Then, just as she was about to go, he had arrived.

"I'm sorry," he'd said, courteously, his immaculate suit looking barely rumpled, his dark eyes shining as he looked at her approvingly. "I was held up at work." He met her dark honey brown eyes. "I have a table booked for eight. Shall we go?"

Ariadne swallowed. She wasn't used to a man being so organised, or so forceful. Usually, they prevaricated. They waited for her to take charge. Not this one.

At the restaurant, he'd barely glanced at the menu, ordering sea bass, and expensive wine. She'd felt out of her depth. He was so smooth, so calm, so controlled. He'd placed the order, refused to let her even attempt to share the bill. He'd ended the date, by standing up.

"Let's go," he said, smiling. She'd blinked. "Where to?"

"My place." Walking out into the street, she'd stood by his side as he'd hailed a cab. Upon arriving at his apartment block, he'd opened the door, springing by its side, courteously helping her out.

"Come on."

She'd followed. Up the stairs. Then to his apartment. Clean, immaculate, tastefully decorated. Before she'd been able to move fully inside the door, he'd reached for her, kissing her on the lips.

She'd responded. Letting him twine his arms around her, pulling her close. He'd moved his mouth down her neck, nibbling on her delicate skin. She had pulled closer, her hands beginning to reach inside his shirt. Suddenly, she felt her own blouse and scarf being tugged, and dropped onto the floor. She heard a faint rip of material. She no longer cared.

He hoisted her, pulling her slight weight up so was resting against him, her legs wrapping around her hips. He carried her into the bedroom, gently placing her on the bed.

"Am I-" he spoke, his voice sounding like oozing molasses. "Am I going to far?"

She shook her head. "I just want to go to where you're going."

His response was to lean down, kissing her exposed chest, gently tracing his fingers over the lacy, patterned bra. She began to sit up, tugging at his own clothes. She pulled off his belt, then undid his fly. Leaning over, she gently traced her fingers along his sensitive organ.

Completely devoid of clothes, they intertwined in the bed. She didn't resist - there was nothing about him she wanted to resist. He was gentle, powerful. His hands on her skin made it catch like fire.

"How can I please you?" he whispered, his teeth gently nibbling her ear.

"Tie me," she whispered. "Please."

"I don't want to hurt you," he responded, tracing his fingers down the side of her face. "You're too precious."

"Its what I want," she said, softly. "Please."

Nodding, he reached for the silken rope, creating loops for each of her hands. Holding them above her head, keeping her prisoner. As he settled on her, she felt a vicarious pleasure. He'd given in. He'd given in, to her.

"Keep going," she cried out. "Please-"

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. As the bedroom walls began to crack and crumble, she felt the sensation of regret, mingling with longing. After what seemed an eternity, she opened her eyes.

"Hey," Arthur said, leaning down beside her, the sunlight pouring in through the warehouse windows, illuminating his profile. "You ok?"

She nodded, adverting her head so he wouldn't see her crimson stained cheeks. "I'm fine," she murmured. She could never tell this man - this elegant, composed, handsome man - about her fantasies. "I'm fine." Smiling, he got up, and headed back to his desk.

Removing the IV from her arm, the Architect stood up. She would never have a chance with him in reality, she was convinced of that. But in dreams, he was hers. Hers alone.

Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, thank you!