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[Trying to cook, and failing miserably.]

Depends wholly on the points being made, I think.

[Arthur leans in, reaching across the table to brush the back of her hand.] And I'd say the best course of action is just acting like yourself. Obviously I enjoy your consternation.

It'd be stupid to try and change anything about myself at this point, anyway. Obviously, you like me this way. Whatever I've been doing right, I wouldn't want to risk changing it. [She gives him what she hopes looks like an exasperated sigh.]

[The ruse fails... or he really does enjoy her consternation, because he smiles in response to the sigh.] Stubborn, opinionated, nosy, entirely too proud of yourself...

[She can't help it; she grins a little. It's a playful, wicked sort of smile.] You like me when I'm assertive. You said so yourself - you noticed.

Assertive. That's a nice way of putting it. [Now he's just teasing.] Yes, I noticed your assertiveness and you noticed my steps.

I noticed your butt going up the steps. [She's teasing, too. Hey, he likes her being assertive, right?]

So it wasn't even my attention to fine lacquered flooring, it was just my butt. I feel so objectified.

Yes. And the next time I build a dream for you, I'll make sure you wear nothing but a Speedo. [She bites her lip on a laugh.]

Please tell me you wouldn't.

[She buries her face in her arms, laughing. It'll be a minute or two before she can answer.]

I don't share well, so no.

Yes, I'm sure that me in a speedo would draw the crowds. [He snorts and starts eating again.]

Ah, you're right. You're nothing much to look at. Prepare for a Hawaiian beach, Arthur, and a Speedo. [She throws another piece of bread at his face.]

[He catches that one, too.] So it's only going to be my subconsious anyway? They'll probably all be mortally horrified and look the other way.

Or if it's mine you will draw the crowds.

And then I'll be jealous of my own projections.

...Frued would be fascinated.

I don't think it'd be all that fascinating. I mean, I'm sure my subconscious would populate a beach with... Attractive... Beach types. Who would naturally all flock to you in their busty, leggy, tanned glory.

[Arthur will never tell Ariadne the type of women he picked up in bars and hotels.] Who'd flock to me because you think I have a nice ass.

[He doesn't have to.] Yep. And then what would I do? My projections would be way hotter than me, no contest.

Ariadne. They certainly wouldn't have your assertiveness. [He glances around the empty restuarant and then at her. Taking out his wallet, he puts it on the table and stands up, taking her hand.]

[She laughs, pressing her forehead affectionately against his shoulder as she lets him pull her up.] My apartment has probably aired out by now.

[He hadn't been considering that; even the waiter seems to have deserted the room.] Maybe. [But he's pulling her toward the bathrooms.]

[She stifles more laughter and allows him to lead the way; she can watch his ass better from this angle anyway.]

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