Eames showers and then Ariadne showers. He's less off-center than before; instead of slipping into her guest bedroom -- barely bigger than a closet, but with a comfortable bed and a whole shelf of old, worn novels for children -- he stays in her bed, drowsily arranging his towel so that it's over the wet spot he made. She'll have to take care of the wet spot she made -- and the condom on the floor -- herself.

When she comes out of the bathroom, she's still naked, and she climbs on top of him instead of walking around to the other side of the bed. When she leans forward, her hair plops onto his skin and her nipples, hard and soft at the same time, press against his chest. She kisses him, just a brief brush of her mouth over his.

"My job is knowing people, so I'm a hard man to surprise." He shifts under her, and the hair on her legs pricks his thighs a little. "You just keep doing it," he confesses, even though he doesn't mean to.

"Maybe you just don't know me well enough yet," she says, and kisses him again. He takes it as an invitation to stay even longer.

=

She never does manage to forge a cock, but she figures out how to forge a strap-on, so she can fuck Eames while looking like Viggo Mortensen.