And I'm back. Again. Sorry if the last chapter didn't make any sense...I feel like the last one was a little bit rushed. I believe A/A's relationship is a slow and gradual one. It should be a sweet but painfully slow process. So yeah, I slowed down on this one.

22:59:33
REALITY
Yusuf's Workhouse - Laboratory

"Have you checked on them yet?" Yusuf asks Eames, pouring a white liquid into a blue one. The result is fizzing and a weak crackling.

"What do you think?" Eames asks back. He sees a cat on the ground and kicks it roughly. "Why do you have so many bloody cats?"

"They help me think," Yusuf says, taking another white liquid and pouring it into the previous fluid. "And you didn't answer my question. Did you check on them? Are they stable?"

"Yes, they're bloody well stable," Eames grumbles, taking another cat off of him. "Why the hell do these cats keep coming on me?"

"They like you," Yusuf answers, cuddling one before returning to his compounds. He thinks a moment before stopping his mixing and picking up one of the smaller kittens. "This one is British."

"Oh, is he?" Eames says, suddenly taking interest and taking the kitten. The kitten scrambles out of Eames' hands and scurries up to his shoulder. "Quick little bloke..." He nuzzles him. "...I think I like him." Then he jumps down and chases the other cats. Most of the young ones stay behind to hear him meow. "And he has a way with the women. What's his name?"

Yusuf smiles and then says, "Eames."

22:57:78
UNKNOWN
The Room - Kitchen

"It's been an hour," Arthur says, checking his watch.

"Has it?" Ariadne asks, taking a plate from the cupboard and putting it on the table. She takes another plate and does the same. "Hmm...Now that I think about it...yeah, that seems about right."

"You hungry?" he asks. "There's a stove and pots and pans and different ingredients and even...recipes?"

"Why do I feel like Eames is setting us up?" Ariadne asks.

"He probably is, but I'm hungry and that's not something Eames can control." He looks through the stack of recipes.

"Most of these requires two fluent, flexible hands, Arthur."

"...Which we don't have. Why don't we just have a muffin?"

Click.

"No, love, I'm going to confiscate your muffins. You have to cook something," Eames says over the intercom. A faint meow is heard.

"How the hell are we supposed to cook something when we only have control over one of our hands and the other one is someone else's?" Arthur exclaims.

"I dunno. You're a big boy, Artie, I know you can figure something out. I'll give you two a sticker when you're done~!" Eames says. Static filters through the air. "Hey, have you done what I suggested, pumpkin?"

"...Eames. If I ever did that, I would get arrested and put into jail for my whole lifetime and if I happen to come out, I'll come out like you...so...no. I haven't," Arthur says.

"What did he tell you to do?" Ariadne asks Arthur. Arthur looks at her and then cringes. Ariadne gets the message.

"Do you two love-birds have some kind of secret language I don't know about, now?" Eames says. "Artie, you better tell Uncle Eames afterwards."

"You are not my Uncle! Go away!" Arthur says.

"So childish, I guess you'll always be Uncle's little Artie, after all." Eames sighs. "I'll be taking my leave now, don't let this opportunity get away. I know you can't see the wood for the trees, sometimes, Art."

Click.

"'Can't see the wood for the trees'? What does that even mean?" Arthur asks.

"It's a British idiom stating that you can't see the big picture because you fret too much over the small details," Ariadne answers. She laughs. "No offense, but I have to agree with Eames on that one."

"Shut up," he grumbles. He flips through the recipes again. "We can make...pudding?"

"What kind of pudding?" asks Ariadne.

"Just...normal pudding," Arthur replies.

"Oh, that's boring!" she says. "But fine, I don't mind."

Arthur nods and then reads out loud the ingredients. "One incredibly sexy British man whose name starts with E and ends with S, one also somewhat sexy Parisian who has interests in building, and one semi-ugly prick who likes to dress like he's about to go to a funeral. Make the prick and Parisian have se—EAMES!"

Ariadne, who was a bright as a tomato suddenly was no match for the purpleness of Arthur, who looked like an eggplant.

Click.

"What is it, sweetheart? I have an orgy coming up in two minutes." Arthur, too flared up from the recipe, ignores the urge to gag at the orgy comment.

"Eames. Why the hell does the recipe for pudding involve R-rated content?"

"I thought you two would've liked some bonding," Eames answers with a chuckle.

"But not involving actual bondage! What...what is this? OHMYGODEAMESWHATTHEHELL—"

"It's okay, Artie, you learn something new everyday."

"EAAAAAAAMES!" Arthur screams on the top of his lungs.

"I'm actually really surprised it took you that long to scream my name like that. Now let's see how long it takes for you to scream Ariadne's. For a different reason."

Arthur takes a deep breath. "Eames, when my twenty-four hours are up, I will personally see that I destroy your life, no matter what it takes."

"As long as you destroy it with Ari."

Arthur grits his teeth and his fingers curl up into fists. "I reckon I shouldn't read the recipes," Ariadne says.

"You reckon right, dear," Eames says. "Ta-ta."

Click.

"Arthur...?" Ariadne says cautiously.

Arthur seems to not hear her. "Okay...maybe sometimes I want to kiss her...Kiss her on the cheek...On the forehead...Especially on the lips...Kiss her lightly...Okay, hard...And then occasionally french her...And maybe have this incredibly strong urge to do it again...and again...but he didn't have to go that far..."

"Arthur?" Ariadne asks again, slightly scared.

Arthur is in his own little world. Muttering. "...And then maybe I have fantasies about her at night...About her flowy, silky hair...Her almond, sparkly eyes...her perfectly shaped nose...Her delicate hands...Her smooth, smells-good skin...her tender, soft lips...Okay, I am a man so breasts come in a lot...and I can't help but stare at her sometimes..."

Ariadne gives up and just listens intently.

Finally, he bursts. "BUT NO WAY IN HELL AM I LETTING YOU FEEL HER UP BEFORE I DO, EAMES!"

He turns to Ariadne.

"Did I say that all of that out loud?"

"...Yeah."

"Oh."

"Okay."

There is an awkward silence as the two stand in the small kitchen.

"Did you mean it?" Ariadne finally blurts out, breaking the strained silence.

"Mean what?" Arthur asks.

"Did you mean...everything? M-my hands and my eyes..." Ariadne fidgets with a strand of hair, "...and everything else? Did you mean it?"

"...Yes. Every last word." And through the awkward tension, Arthur can see Ariadne smile. Just a little bit.

22:32:55
UNKNOWN
The Room - The Kitchen

"No, no, no, Arthur! You have to melt the chocolate first! Then you put it in."

"I've never made custard before, Ariadne! So stop yelling at me!"

"I'm not yelling at you! Just...microwave the stupid chocolate already. No! At medium heat!"

"I'm about to, you idiot!"

"Don't call me an idiot! Arthur...no! Stir it!"

"You told me to beat it!"

"Now you have to stir it!"

"But..."

"No buts! Whisk in the cream and milk!"

"What cream and milk?"

"The one you boiled on the stove, idiot!"

"You're the idiot!"

"Aaaaggh!"

Ariadne was frustrated. Apparently, Arthur could name 568 digits of pi, but he couldn't make custard. In fact, he could make pudding, pie, cakes, souffles, a variety of foreign dishes, and pizza...but he just couldn't make custard.

"Why couldn't we have just stuck with the muffins?" grumbles Arthur.

"Because they were confiscated," Ariadne says, losing her patience. "I would've just made them myself, but since that moron Eames chained us together, you're the one with the right hand and I have the left one." Ariadne sighs in defeat. "Did you preheat the oven?"

"Yes, Mother, I did," Arthur says. "I know how to cook."

"Just not custard," Ariadne mutters. "Here, look. There are three mixtures," she says, willing herself to be patient with Arthur, "there's the one with the egg yolk, salt, and sugar. Let's name him Eames, okay?" Arthur, exhausted, nods ever so slightly, taking interest. "We also have sugar and cream with vanilla. Let's name him Arthur, all right?" Arthur nods again. "And the last one is the melted chocolate...Cobb." Arthur nods.

"So, now, let's say Eamesina the II and Cobb Jr. become a couple," Ariadne says, unaware of the real Arthur who was giving off a faint shade of red. She pours "Cobb" into "Eamesina". She beats them together with her left hand (which is not cuffed). "They have a daughter named Ariadne the III Jr."

"Wait, why a daughter?"

"Because I can make custard and you can't." Arthur frowns. "I'm kidding, Arthur. Fine, we can make Ariadne their son." Arthur nods in agreement to Ariadne's plan. "So, somehow, Ariadne starts seeing Arthur."

"OH-kay. We can make Ariadmes back into a girl," Arthur says. Ariadne smiles.

"As I thought," she says. "So, Ariadne begins seeing Arthur. Just a little bit at a time. Five minutes here, five minutes there. But they gradually grow closer." She tips a little bit of "Arthur" into "Ariadne" and whisks it. She tips another little bit and whisks it again. She repeats this for many times. "Until finally..." She tips in the last little bit.

"...They're complete."

Slow enough? Probably not.

Actually, it seems kind of weird Ariadne is the one flirting with Arthur at the custard part. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Whatever.