It took a while for Jon to orient himself in Sarah's dream. It seemed that different people dreamed in different ways, and since he'd only visited Zoe and Athena's dreams before, he was expecting Sarah's to be the same. It wasn't.
For one thing, Zoe and Athena, although they previously preferred the darkness, dreamed in vivid colour. Sarah, though, dreamed in black and white. That was the first thing that through him off. Black, white, and a myriad of grey shades made up his surroundings. It was like being in an old television show, but with clearer picture.
The other thing was that time seemed to be strange. It didn't seem to pass at a constant pace for Sarah, but rather it sped up, then slowed down, then sped up again, almost with a pulse-like pattern. Jon found himself in a crowded auditorium. At the front was Sarah, standing in front of a podium, looking very uncomfortable. As Jon approached her, he found himself moving very slowly for a few steps, then sprinting forward as time sped up. He wasn't sure if he would get used to it.
By the time Jon had made it to the stage, he was pretty sure he knew what was happening to Sarah: she was having a stress dream. Not one word had the cheerleader uttered as he approached her, not one move had she made. She only stood awkwardly, blushing, shifting from foot to foot as the murmuring of the crowd grew. She was stuck in the "giving a speech but didn't prepare" dream. Jon chuckled as he realized that he, too, had had that dream more than a few times. For the first time in his life, Jon felt sorry for Sarah McMillian. He leaped onto the stage and stood behind the blonde girl.
"Don't worry, Sarah," he whispered in her ear, his pity taking over, "You don't have to give a speech today."
The tenseness in Sarah's body visibly dissipated, as did the crowd. The girl was left standing on the stage, staring at an empty auditorium. From behind, Jon admired the hue of grey her blonde hair translated to. He could smell a strong strawberry smell her shampoo had infused it with. His pity satiated, he allowed other parts of his emotions to take over. Other, more base feelings.
"In fact," he continued, his lips closer to Sarah's ear than it had ever been in real life, "You don't even have to be at the auditorium today. You can stay at home."
Their surroundings flickered, then Jon and Sarah rematerialized in what Jon imagined to be Sarah's bedroom, in monochrome. It was the colour, or lack-there-of, that gave him his idea.
"You love to stay at home," his whispering continued, words sinking into Sarah's very being, changing her world-view, "and take care of your husband," Sarah's bed got bigger, changing from a double to a king-sized, "You're the perfect housewife, Sarah, taking care of all your husband's needs, always putting him first," an apron appeared over Sarah's outfit, "always ready to express your love for him. You're a lucky girl to have landed such a catch as Jon; most girls would kill to have a husband like him."
Suddenly another Jon appeared in the room with the aproned Sarah, who ran to him, embraced him and covered him with kisses. A look of pure affection was in each of their eyes, and as the greeting got more intense, as the couple became more intimate, Jon decided that it was time to leave. Even though it was him who was about to get lucky, he felt a bit weird. Besides, he wanted to see what such a strange change would bring about in Sarah in the morning.
