A/N: My friend challenged me to write a Ariadne & Arthur fanfic in an hour, so this is MEGA rough! :D Hope you enjoy anyway. Inspired by 'Drive By' by Train.

Every face, no matter male or female, pretty or average, blonde or brunette, reminded me of her. Whether it was something big like the colour of their eyes or something tiny like a similar freckle, I saw Ariadne in every single person. I guess I'm mad. There isn't another explanation.

"Who is she?" Dom asks.

"Huh?" I say stupendously.

"This girl that you can't stop thinking about," he explains.

I take a long swing of lager and turn to him. "I don't know what you're talking about," I say evasively.

"Huh, that's funny. I've seen that expression on a lot of faces, Arthur, but never on you. She must be special," he tells me.

"She doesn't care about me," I say.

"So there is a girl?" he says, grinning a little.

"Yes, there fricking is!" I snap. "Sorry, I'm not in the mood," I tell him and pay for both of our drinks, leaving the bar without another word.

I often replay it all in my head, just looking for signs that she never actually liked me. She kissed me without hesitation. That speaks volumes. She never rejected me. Well, she never made a move on me either, but does that matter? God knows.

At home, I swallow my pride and pick up the phone.

"Hey, Ariadne here!" comes her bright voice.

"Hey, Ariadne! It's Ar-" I begin.

"Bet I fooled you!" she says, "Leave a message and I'll get back to you."

Then, the tone and a crackly silence.

"Hey... It's Arthur... call me back, yeah?" I say awkwardly and then hang up.

"Hey, Arthur!" she says, when she finally phones me back.

"Ariadne!" I say brightly, probably overenthusiastic. "I was just calling to see if you wanted to get a coffee and catch up."

"Of course!" she says.

My coffee is going cold as I wait. If she's stood me up...

But then she comes round the corner and my heart leaps into the stratosphere.

Her beauty has escaped me. She's stunning, breathtaking, god-damned gorgeous.

"It sucks that I won't be here for much longer," she says as we sip coffee.

"What do you mean?" I ask, feeling sick in the back of my throat.

"I'm going back to Paris to get my degree," she explains.

"Oh... right," I say pathetically.

"Arthur, I-" she begins.

"Ariadne, I-" I say simultaneously.

We laugh a little. "Ariadne, I didn't call you hear to catch up," I admit, "I've missed you."

"Arthur, I've missed you too," she says.

As she disappeared through airport security, making her way to a plane bound for Paris, my heart ached. I hailed a cab and directed him to my apartment on auto-pilot. My every thought was of her. I wouldn't see her for months, and that was one heck of a thought. Well, the last week I'd spent with her was worth it.

But I couldn't do it. I couldn't just sit here and wait for her.

"Stop please," I tell the cab driver.

I exit the cab and run back to the airport, my motives clear in my mind.

"Mind if I sit down?" I ask her. She's bent over a book on Architecture and doesn't notice me holding two hot chocolates.

She looks up and I watch as the shock passes. "Arthur!" she cries, standing up and flinging her arms around me.

"I've never been this certain about anyone," I admit.

"Neither have I," she tells me.

"So, when this plane lands, you won't have any regrets?" I ask.

"None," she replies and pulls me into a gentle kiss.