Hey! So, first Inception fanfic, and I would LOVE feedback. Tell me if I should continue or not? Still deciding.

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Inception. Or Arthur. *sob*

"This is a bit ridiculous, don't you think?" Ariadne eyed Eames, trying to figure out the method behind his madness. "No, not at all." He gestured vaguely towards Arthur. "As I keep trying to tell you, love, he volunteered. I mean, honestly, I think he's mad, but that's just my lowly opinion." Arthur grimaced at Eames, and situated himself on a lawn chair, avoiding her gaze.

"You can't keep going out into the field without learning the proper techniques. Otherwise, the next thing we know you'll turn up in Limbo, with nothing but sandy beaches for company." "And we know how well that always turns out." Eames, ever the charmer, interrupted the steady flow of Arthur's explanation. He adamantly continued. "We're just trying to protect you, Ariadne. And without Cobb…well, we need to be more careful." "And I say, take risks!" "Shut it, Eames."

Ariadne found herself determinedly staring at her scarf instead of Arthur. She needed to concentrate, and found it somewhat difficult with his damn brown eyes burrowing into her. They both waited patiently for her to acquiesce to their request, but she knew it wasn't right to mess with anyone's mind like that, even for some practice.

"Arthur…" She paused a bit, unsure of where her mind was going with the decision. Hell, she wasn't even sure where they stood. Tensions had been high when he had fleetingly kissed her inside Fissure's mind, and who's to say it had even been real? Lately, Ariadne had been shaky on her feet in the real world after spending moments in Limbo. She would find herself blurring dreams with real memories, and then things became muddled. Constantly she was slipping her hand in her pocket to feel for her grip on reality, her totem, just to reinforce the idea that this was indeed happening. That her life was happening. She took a breath.

"Arthur, I can't – I can't practice extraction on you. It's too…" Ariadne couldn't finish. Not that she knew what she was going to say, anyways. Eames decided for her. "Well, love, you have to practice on somebody, and I'm certainly not going to volunteer my admirable services." Arthur rolled his eyes at the word 'admirable' but Eames appeared not to notice. "The last thing we need is an inexperienced agent on our team." His tone was abruptly businesslike, and she could tell he was imagining all the ways it could go wrong with just the three of them.

She debated, wrestling with her morale over her desire to be more of an asset to them. Catching her off guard, Arthur moved to sit beside her, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder. Some emotion rushed through her at the touch, sending shivers up her spine and rendering her speechless.

"Ariadne, I swear to you, I'd rather you practice this now than see you get hurt." Eames coughed obnoxiously, shattering the moment. Ariadne wished she could pick the pieces back up and replay it over and over again.

But beneath his composure, Arthur was slightly fearful. Who knows what she could uncover in the recesses of his subconscious? He wasn't even completely sure what he locked down there. And what if it was more dangerous than he had originally anticipated?

Oblivious to his frantic thoughts, Ariadne cautiously gave her answer. "Alright, then."

Grinning triumphantly, Eames set up the light sedative quickly, as if he had known her answer. To be fair, he probably had. She couldn't face the effect Arthur had on her with coherency. How was she expected to make an unbiased decision with that kind of distraction? Carefully, she leaned back into her chair, and Arthur situated himself in the smaller one next to her. They looked at each other, and Ariadne felt the need to throw something out into the silence, her heart, or maybe just this growing feeling inside of her that seemed impossible to define. Just when she thought she was going to explode from the crushing tension, the listlessness of the sedative spread through her system, and her eyes slipped closed.

XXX

Wet.

Cold.

Ariadne tried to breathe but instead found herself with a mouthful of water. Desperately, she tried to claw her way to the surface, but there was no way out of the darkness. It pressed in around her, blinding her, leaving her to panic and reach for something that wasn't there. Screams, in her mind, as she felt herself sinking.

Before she could plunge any further, a point of warmth enveloped around her wrist, fingers locked to drag her to the surface. Suddenly, all at once, she was overcome with a broken trail of images. Eames's unhappy face beside her, blinding light, coughing, spluttering as she choked up the water and replaced it with air. Gathering herself enough to look around, Ariadne perceived a long expanse of lake, surrounded by looming trees that gathered together to form an ominous forest. Squinting her eyes, she picked up a lone door resting comfortably on the far bank, completely out of place in the stark wilderness.

"We're just getting started, darling, I don't think you want to leave just yet." He supported her a bit in the freezing water, noticing that she was shaking. "I'm fine," Ariadne replied sharply to the concerned look in his eyes. Despite what the rest of them thought, just because she was the only woman didn't mean she wasn't capable. As if to prove her silent point, she deftly began to swim towards the door, her thoughts racing.

Where the hell were they, anyway? Arthur's mind, obviously, but this bottomless lake didn't offer much insight into his personality, or much of anything for that matter. Nervously, almost feverishly, she finally reached the shore and collapsed tiredly. Ariadne hated a lot about water, but if she had to pick one thing it would defiantly be near-drowning experiences. Eames, following closely and smirking slightly, gracefully pulled himself up out of the water.

"Next time, warn me or something before we end up in the middle of a lake." Ariadne muttered venomously. "What did you have in mind? A reminder to bring your floaties?"

Shaking her head at him angrily, she walked over to the door. "Eames." Something about her serious tone must have stopped him from making a condescending reply. "Are you sure we're going to like what we find in here?"

The silence around them had never seemed so loud. Adriadne was frozen, hand poised on the burnished metal handle to the dark, blackened doorway before them. It felt like ages, or maybe no time at all when Eames spoke. "Ariadne, you heard Arthur. We'd rather you get hurt here, where you're safe, than out in the field, where it's going to count." "Personally, I'd rather like to avoid getting hurt altogether…" she grumbled, but a bit of her worry had floated away at his firm assurances. Almost confidently, she gripped the handle, bracing herself to pull it open.

She knew what she had to do.