onepassingnight | (no subject)

[It was still taking some getting used to it, the whole shared dreaming thing. Still she was walking through the chaos, tilting her head in confusion as she spotted a familiar face. One of the people who had visited her at the Magic Box.]

What's going on?

He looks up when she speaks, blinking when he realizes that he knows her. "Anya," he says with a slight smile. "Hi there."

He wasn't expecting to see anyone he knew and if he did, it was certainly not her.

"I'm not really sure," he admits. "But my instincts are telling me that we should stay away from that." He jabs a finger behind them towards the approaching lights and sound. "In the mood for a little walk?"

She nodded a little in agreement. "I'm of the general agreement that tagging that would be in our best interest. As it looks unsafe and it would be foolish to knowingly go into something that dangerous."

Which seemed to be stating the obvious, but that was something Anya ended up doing a lot. She nodded a little again.

"A walk would be fine."

He's about to say something about the whole 'stating the obvious' thing but shakes his head and decides against it. It's wasting time and he feels like they don't really have much of it to spare.

"Great," he says, starting in the opposite direction at a brisk walk that turns into a bit of a jog. He'd rather put as much distance between him and whatever the hell it is that's coming after him as possible.

Dream or not, nothing feels right about this situation.

Anya began jogging after him, wishing she was wearing better shoes for this sort of situation. And then, suddenly, she was. Well, that was one of the perks of being in a dream, she supposed.

"So do you know what that thing we're running from is?"

"I have no idea," he says cheerily. "But by the looks of it, I think it might be the light show from hell."

It keeps gaining on them, the every present light and sound picking up speed as the ran.

Neal looks back at tit and swallows hard. "And even if it's n9ot. I'm not really sure we're going to get the chance to remain ignorant of it."

"It figures. These sorts of things rarely just let their presence go unnoticed. That would be too much to ask for."

But she kept running anyways. If there was anyway to avoid that thing, she was going to try to take it.

He laughs a little,, peering behind them for a moment before starting to properly run. "You'd think they'd be nice enough tot clue us in,"

It's gaining fast though and in a matter of moments it's right at their heels. Neal can't help but slow as the tension builds in hsi head the pain and the light and the sound starting to overwhelm him as he tries to keep from getting in too deep.

"They never are that nice, in my experience."

But she kept running, if only because her survival instinct was kicking in, and whatever it was that was running after them, it didn't look pretty. But soon enough, it was getting much, much harder to keep running, and she found herself slowing down in spite of herself.

"If only I was still a demon, then I could at least do something about this!"

"A demon?" He then shakes his head. "Nevermind. I'll ask you later when we're not getting chased down from an evil light show."

But that evil lightshow is going to finally all upo9n them and it's a mess of noise and lights so bright that it blinds them. It leaves Neal with a roaring headache, the kind that leaves him spinning and reeling.

It was a damn migraine. He was getting a migraine in his sleep. Damnit.

The flash of noise and lights causes Anya to cry out in pain, falling down in the process. Her whole head was throbbing in pain, and it wasn't like a pain she had experienced before. It was real, and human, and stupid.

"What the hell is happening to us?"

He clamps his hands over his hears and slams his eyes shut trying hard to push out the light and the noise but it doens't work. It just makes his head scream out in pain even more at the contact and he winces in pain.

"I think--," he says trying very hard not to curl up and stop moving while blocking out as much of this as he can. "I think it might be a migraine."

"This is what a migraine feels like?" She asked, sounding overall very confused. "No wonder so many people complain about them. They really are quite painful and annoying."

Since she had become human again, Anya had never experienced a migraine before. It was a new experience, to say the least.

He's trying to find her endearing but it's hard when he feels like his head is being split in two. "It's not fun," he says through gritted teeth. "I wouldn't exactly recommend it."

THen he consider something. "You might be able to find your way out," he suggests. "This is my problem. You don't need to be here."

"I'm not going to just leave you behind to face this alone." She would have, at one point in her life, but a few years in Sunnydale has gotten that habit out of her.

There's a blur of movement. Ariadne's not entirely sure if that was possible, or if she was causing it. Either way, she emerges from it, like a still out of a scene in a movie where people out of focus hurry about. She's not questioning if it's a dream or not. It feels real for the moment, her subconscious not yet checking if it is.

She saw a man walking in the opposite direction. All motion and sound seems to be following him. Ariadne stops in the crowd, the flow moving around her.

"This is for you, isn't it?" She asks, her voice trying to grab his attention.

As soon as the crowd catches up to him,, he winces his hands immediately going to his temples. The migraine comes on hard and fast as soon as the activity meets him.

He swallows down a bit of nausea as he tries to concentrate on something, anything at all but the pain in his head.

He barely hears her but it does push through. He looks up, peers at her. "I guess it is," he says, his voice soft, not wanting to add to the noise around him.

Ariadne looked up at him, he didn't look well. He was taller than her, though most people were. Even in dreams. He was older, but not old. "Change it." She told him, the idea suddenly coming to her.

This was a dream. Her eyes looked from him to the crowd continuing to buzz around them. "Take us somewhere else." She got jostled by a projection, the person pushing her into his line.

"I can't,,," he snaps and it comes out harsher tyhan he meant to but the pain keeps increasing and it's making him tetchy.

"I'm not good at it yet,," he tries again. "I can do smaller things but I can't....move us." He's been working on getting better at changing his dreams, making things appear and disappear but he's not gotten good enough to simply change the entire dream yet.

"Something's going on in your subconscious then. I can try doing a few things, but I run the risk of being stabbed..." She said hesitantly, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him through the crowd. Why does she suddenly care? Well, Ariadne has a foot in everybody's business and he's the dreamer.

The road led on and she started to building, the streets of New York popping up. She could still hear the crowd though and she knew the only way to not get killed herself was to start making traps with the building. Twists, mirrors, places to slip through. "What's wrong, exactly? Why is yourself after you?" She asked, not hesitating to butt into his life.

That catches his attention. "Stabbed?"

This whole dream thing is terribly interesting in it';s own way. He would just find it more interesting if it didn't feel like his head was splitting in two.

He shrugs. "I have no idea. It's my subconscious, remember I don't think it's supposed to make that much sense." He tries for a smile but it becomes more of a grimace.

"Yeah, your subconscious is now aware of my presence and the fact that I'm messing in your head now... mostly all of your secrets could be at my disposal if I wanted to get at them." She tells him before leading him down an alley. She needed to expand on the maze she was working out in her head, the landscape she was creating in his dream. The faster she worked, the longer she stayed alive.

"You'd be surprised how much sense your subconscious makes. Something is going on in your head and this is the way it's coming out." She told him. "You either deal with it now or you may have a shade on your hands."

Three skyscrapers appeared as the noise started to close in. She had to get into one of the buildings. Ariadne was an architect, the buildings could be the traps. She just needed to make sure she didn't trap herself in there.

"I didn't realize I had such a vicious subconscious." He laughs bitterly though he does make a note about what she says. he needs to get better at this, less dependent on others. He's definitely not comfortable with people inside his head, able to see his secrets.

"It would be much easier to deal with if I didn't feel like someone was taking a hammer to my skull." He keeps rubbing at his temples and trying to focus on things that aren't the pain but the more the noise stays around them, the worse it gets. He slumps against a wall and isn't entirely sure he isn't going to start retching where he stands.

"Look," he starts. "What if I...I let you in. Gave you permission somehow. Could that get us out of this?" It's not a comfortable thought but it's better than staying in all this mess.

"It's not really you. Everyone does. No one likes people in their heads, messing around." She told him, stopping to stand behind him. This feels a lot like what she went through with Dom, only his shade hasn't stabbed him. Yet. There was a noise down the alley, and she grabbed his hand again. "We have to go. I'll get you safe and then we can try this."

With him behind her, she took him to another alley and found a back door. There was a staircase. Ariadne smiled to herself, this would be her way out if needed. Penrose steps; Arthur would be proud. "Come on, I have to create a strong room." Ariadne knew the building was building itself, floor upon floor of mazes.

She walked through the first door and moved aside a tapestry where an elevator sat. "So. What's happening? What's happened in your life to get this sort of reaction?" She asked. "And I should let you know, if I wanted, I could probably get your secrets without your permission. I'm not an Extractor, but I've seen some of it."

"I can't say I'm surprised," he mutters more to himself than to her. He would have loved to get all this information in a different setting, he really would have. Right now he's having a hard enough time trying to string two thoughts together and not cringe.

The sudden movement? Not helping the situation very much. Not in the slightest.

He just runs, half hearing what she's saying and putting the rest of his concentration on keeping his legs moving. If he does that then he's pretty sure he won't pass out. Hopefully.

"I don't--" He shakes his head and instantly regrets it. He turns away and leans forward starting to retch but nothing comes out. There's nothing in his stomach so it just comes out as dry heaves.

He sinks to the floor closing his eyes and taking in deep shaking breaths. "Look," he says. "You gotta give me a second here."

Finally, after a few more moments of catching his breath and trying really hard to not start getting ill again. He looks up carefully,, cracking one lid open and peering at her. "I'm not saying you can't do it but why should I tell you? How do I know you're not just trying to figure them out?"

She's leaning in the elevator with him when he started to retch. She put her hand on his back as a comforting gesture. This couldn't be easy for anyone to go through. Ariadne hadn't ever been in that situation, just someone fixing it.

He has more than a few minutes to recuperate, going first to the sixtieth floor to switch elevators. Ariadne leaned against the wall and looked at him. "I don't even know your name. And while I know about the Mr. Charles gambit, I'm not nearly proficient enough to pull it off. And I'm not an Extractor. I'm an Architect." She tells him. "Besides I have no idea how I ended up here. I think I'm stuck in limbo, perpetually moving through people's dreams."

He considers this for a moment, nodding when he decides that yes,, he's content with this answer. "I'll tell you the basics," he says. "If you tell me what you're talking about becuase I'm pretty sure that your definition of Architect and mine are very different."

"Look," he adds with a slightly pained smile. "I'll even start us off. Hi, my name's Neal Caffrey."

Ariadne slides down to sit next to him. She didn't feel like looking down on him. So with a soft sigh she nodded and looked over at him. She offered her hand. "I'm Ariadne. And you may not remember this when you wake up, but I do exist up there. I'm a grad student at an art school in Paris studying g Architecture so your definition of an Architect would be half right, but I've recently started working in dreamsharing. I design the dreams. It's how I got us out of the crowd. I built the Sears Tower in your head. It's why your subconscious is now after me." She told him, gesturing as she did when she tried to explain something.

he takes her hand, though his grasp isn't the firm, confident one that it normally is. It's light and almost careful. Touch bothers him right now but he knows it would be rude to not take her hand.

He makes a noise of understanding. "Paris," he says with a smile. "I love Paris." Then he adds. "You could say that I'm an art student as well, just...not in the traditional sense."

Ariadne looks at her hand in his, studying the details. It's what she does after all. Her hand his much smaller than his, she's also paler. His hands are slightly rougher. He isn't a tradesman. She's correct when he tells her he works in art as well.

"I'm taking that to mean not exactly legal. Dream Extraction isn't either and while I haven't done that, Inception is probably worse." Her eyes go back to his face with a small smile. "Is that what's bothering you? Your job? What exactly do you do?"

Ariadne isn't one to beat around the bush; she's small but threatening. And she knows she can handle this. Diving into other people's minds is something of a speciality of hers. And while she knows this man less than she knew Cobb, she was also interested in this - other people and their dreams. This wasn't entirely a selfless act.

"NOt entirely," he admits with a small chuckle, watching her as she studies his hand. He's made a few observations of his own but it's hard to think clearly with the pain in his head. It puts him offo his game which is something he hates.

If this were a normal situation, he would be somewhere dark, cold and quiet where other people wouldn't actually be a problem to begin with.

"My job is....Interesting," he says. "I actually work for the FBI now. Kind of a work release. I help them and I get to stay out of jail and--" He pauses here, considering something for a moment. "I'm looking for someone," he continues after deciding that he may as well go all in. "Someone's taken her and they're trying to get something out of me but I can't get at it becuase I have no idea where it actually is."

Her. There's always a her. Ariadne has an inkling she's probably just as lovely as Mal was. Mal, the person, not Mal the Shade. She listens though. This is usually cathartic, getting out one's problems. It's better than making him relive it, going through his subconscious level by level.

The elevator suddenly dings, but she doesn't move. This may actually be a pretty secure place for the time being. Neil isn't trained in this after all. Ariadne mentally sound proofs the elevator and then turns her attention back to him.

"So this is about your job then. You were caught and now somebody has taken something. Maybe your subconscious is more aware than you think. Or they're doing this to you. Are you on a plane in reality? Or being put under for a dentist visit or operation? Did you eat or drink anything that was given to you by another person?" She rattled these off, remembering everything Cobb or Arthur ever mentioned.

He looks up at the ding, reluctant to get to his feet. The movement is just not what he wants to do right now.

He sighs. "I was sedated a couple of days ago. I don't know if the drugs are still working their way through my system." He considers that for a moment and then adds. "I'm not dangerous or anything. I was breaking into a clinic to retrieve information. They caught me and thought it would be a good idea if I couldn't cause any trouble."

A bitter smile. "Apparently they're for the 'Knock 'em out' method of things."

Shhe noticed that he doesn't seem to want to move and while he speaks, the Architect is adding more fortifications around the elevator. She's hoping the quiet eases him as well. It looks like he's been through a lot.

"That could be how this all started at the very least." She told him, bring her knees in to her chest. "Tell me out the girl. How do they know her? How did they get her? How did you get involved in this? What are you looking for?"

"You're not very shy about asking questions, are you," he says, his voice soft. "It's a long story. A really long story."

He really doesn't know if he wants to get into Kate and the music box and everything that's been going on recently. NOt right now, not while his head is splitting and to a girl he knows next to nothing about.

"This isn't about me; it's about you. And I know from witnessing it that this, whatever this is will only get worse. And I may not be around next time to get you out. If you don't deal with it, it will consume you and your dreams will only get worse. I can guarantee it." She said, her voice stern but not reprimanding.

She saw what Dom had become and he didn't need that added problem on top of everything else going on. Ariadne had a brief look into the shady side of this life, and considering he'd already been caught once, it really didn't bode well for him. Though it was his choice to deal with it in the long run. She did softly squeeze his hand though, a comforting gesture.

"I'm not saying you have to tackle it all at once right now, but if we're dream sharing, I'm still sharing my mind with you. I'm in even more danger being here than you are since as soon as we open that elevator door, they're going to be after me again." She blinked and looked down and then over at the door.

Nothing had convinced him until she said she would still be in danger. He would have kept quiet about everything if not for that fact.

But he won't let her be in danger because of him, even if this is all just a dream. The more he thinks about it, the more he's finding that dreams aren't to be looked down upon.

"I met a girl," he starts from the begining. "I tried to con her boss. Emphasis on tried. It didn't work out well." He sighs, shaking his head a little. "We fell in love and everything was great for a while until I made a stupid mistake and got her mad at me. We....sort of split up after that and I continued to run bigger cons untilo one day I thought I found her again. Turns out it was the FBI setting up a trap. We didn't get more than five minutes with eac hother." He smiles a litte bitterly at this point.

"Anyway, I spent somet ime in jail and she visited me every weel. Then one week she comes by and says we're breaking up. I knew it had to be a mistake though, or something had to have been going on, so I broke out." He stops here to rub at his temples to try and ease the pain in his head. It doens't really help.

"I eventually got the FBI to let me out on a kind of work release. I work with them and weark an anklet that tracks my movements and I get to stay out of jail. I took it because it was going to be easier to find Kate that way. "

'"She left me clues and for a while I went just chasing them around. She contacted me a few times and tried to tell em where I kept my cache. I woldn't tell her. It was the only leverage I had against whoever was keeping her. Then she managed to get a meeting with my hande. She told him that what the guy was after was a music box. The problem is, I don't actually have the music box and I barely know where to start to find it."

He sighs, peering at her. "And that's me in a nutshell," he says with a small smile.

She listened to his story, quiet. Ariadne pictured each layer of the story, jail to the FBI to her. This music box was an interesting add though. Perhaps all of this revolved around that, which in turn revolved around this Kate. Her mind worked each detail and she was quiet for a moment.

"You remind me of a colleague of mine, Eames. You would probably do well with him, save as far as I'm aware, he's never been caught." She smirked lightly before continuing. "So your main problem is this music box. What is significant about it?"

And then she paused, because he was probably expecting something back. "This is my first break into anything remotely criminal. I'm not nearly as interesting. School was practically my life before dreamsharing. And Paris was my backdrop." She shrugged a little, hoping that appeased him.

"I wouldn't have been caught if not for the whole thing with Kate," he explains. "I am very good." He even manages cocky grin to go with his words.

"The box," he considers. "Well, it was owned by Catherine th Great. When the Nazis looted her palace, it was taken. We heard that it was in Copenhagen and went after it. The job went awry though buteveryone thoguht I had it and I...didn't exactly tell them otherwise. Beyond that, i honestly have no idea why he want it."

He studies her, taking in the information he was given with a nod. "What made you get involved? In this...dreamsharing thing?"

She laughed. Ariadne probably sounded like Arthur there. She had to admit that whatever was between Arthur and Eames was amusing, and probably helped spur the project that much further.

"It's valuable? I mean people don't really need a reason to want what they want, they just want it." Ariadne said with a shrug. That was her reasoning with Saito at least.

"What I can do. I can't do that in the real world. Cheat architecture in ways that are not possible, can never be possible. It's just... creation, everything around you, here... I built. I built it by thinking it. I couldn't imagine anything else like it in the real world. And if I did, it would take years to make this. Here, everything is possible." Ariadne responded to his question, trying to relay what she felt when she created. Like she told Arthur, it was pure creation.

"It is that," he agrees. "But it doens't seem like it's worht all this trouble. I mean look at what he's willing to do to get it." He shakes his head and sighs. "There's got to be something i"m missing."

He listens, nodding his head as she speaks. "It sounds amazing," he says with a small smile. "The purest form of art. I can see why you would get involved."

"Your subconscious clearly knows something you don't. You're probably not going to get much from it today though. With the drugs, the headache." Ariadne told him and laid her head against the wall.

She liked that description. He was really an artist and she had to smile. "I mean the pay helps, the strings being pulled, but I don't think I could demolish another human being's life for anything but what I'm doing. That and the man I'm working with has a subconscious worse than yours." She threw him a smirk and sighed. "I was never supposed to go under though. But it had to have been done."

"Yeah," he says with a forced smile. "I expect that's going to make things a little bit difficult."

"Well it's nice to know that I'm not the worse one out there," he says with a forced casualty to his tone. Then he looks up at her, watching her. "Do you regret it? Even a little?"

"Perhaps you can dream me up again. I'm not at all sure how this works. I barely know about dreamsharing technology, but this is even more foreign to Mr." Ariadne sighed and looked up at the ceiling and then back at him. She wanted to help him figure this out. This wasn't like Mal though.

Though his question made her pause before she shook her head. "No. I wouldn't do it if I regret. I'll probably be reminder of the guilt, but at the same time, we are repairing his relations. Even if it is a lie. There is good there."

He considers that, then nods. "Maybe. It's worth a try. You're not bad company at the very least and under my currently situation, that's saying a lot."

He nods. "Well, at least there's that. No sense in doing something you'll regret later. Not without a good enough reason anyway." He honestly believes it too. 7

She couldn't help but smile at that and in turn, she squeezed his hand. "You're kind, Neal. And interesting. We've got a bit in common. Being criminals and into art. We can hope we'll see each other again. Preferably without your subconscious after me. But if I can help in anyway, I'll at least try." She told him, concern in her voice.

"I don't regret anything I do. If it isn't me, then I won't do it." It was a sort of transparency that she liked. There wasn't much to hide.

"And to think," he says with a small laugh. "This isn't me at my best." He does mean what he says though and if he can find her again, he will. "I'd say let's make a date of it but I'm not sure how that works in dreams."

There's a small, honest smile on his face. He does like her, likes the way she seems to think. "Good,," he says with a small nod. "That's how it should be."