Sweet dreams are made of these

I had a dream last night that I was at a party at a house, a nice cocktails-and-mingling sort of affair, and the Fab Five were there. I was sitting on a couch so the armrest was on my right, and I was talking to a woman sitting in a chair next to and in front of me. She was asking about Ted, and I looked up at him, across the room talking to people, as I described what he's like, information taken from TV but related as if I actually knew all of them personally.
So I was talking to this woman, and Thom sat down right next to me on the couch, his thigh against mine, and put his hand on my knee to get my attention. I greeted him, "hey, Thom," and he put his hand on my arm and said "um, I sorta broke your camera."
He held it up to show me, and indeed, somehow, it had split right down the center. He explained that he'd accidentally sat on it and it broke (I know, there's no way it would break like that from that, but it made sense in the dream), and he was profusely apologetic, promising to buy me a new camera to make it up to me.
I nodded and smiled and was very nice about it as I tried to focus my attention on whether I could get the film out of the broken camera without ruining it, but I couldn't help but be distracted by how close he was to me and how he kept his hand on my arm.

And then the damned cat jumped on me and woke me up. Dammit.

Big surprise

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