Extraction by Three (1 of 2)
Title: Extraction by Three (1 of 2)
Fandom: Inception
Disclaimer: The movie Inception does not belong to me and I am making no money from this story, just a good-ole fanwork!
Pairing/Characters: Arthur, Eames, Ariadne; Arthur/Eames (Not the focus, however)
Word Count: 13,144
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After the success of inception Arthur, Eames, and Ariadne form an extraction team, stealing secrets with success and sometimes failure and danger. Together the Architect, the Forger, and the Point man travel the world of dreams, adventure after adventure, a life of beautiful crime.
Author notes: I fell in love with the idea of these three working together and this somehow spiraled into this epic work. I wanted it to be something more fun and mostly happy what with all the dark and depressing works all over this fandom. I do hope it delivers. Enjoy! [The Second and Third parts, now completed, can be found here: Life in a Dreaming Trio and The Architect, The Forger, and The Point Man]
Their first job as a trio ends up not in Los Angeles as Arthur had planned or Casablanca as Eames had joked or Sidney as Ariadne had crossed her fingers for but in fact Cairo.
(It would have been a quartet but Yusuf told them to ‘stuff it, he’s staying at his shop for a while, thanks, hope you don’t die.’)
The dream consists of one cityscape layer, two forges and Arthur getting shot in the shoulder.
“I said twenty minutes.” Arthur throws stacks of papers for the incinerator in Eames’ general direction. “Twenty minutes and surprise knock at the door. She says, ‘Oh hello, where have you been? I’ll deal with this later.’ But, no, instead it’s you: ‘Whoops, sorry Arthur, got detained, how’s the shoulder?’”
“How is the shoulder? Still have that psychosomatic smarting, dear?”
Arthur twitches once and glares. “You're lucky we're not dreaming.”
“Beware the trigger finger, eh?”
Arthur hits Eames in the face with a folder but Ariadne catches the case of drafting pencils before it can peg Eames in the eye.
“I’m saving these, don’t get blood on them.”
“Yes, Arthur,” Eames picks up the silver PASIV case as they head to the door, “mustn’t destroy our dear architect’s tools.”
“I really hate you.”
Eames kisses Arthur’s cheek. “No, you don’t.”
Ariadne almost slams the door in their faces as she goes through first.
“I hate you both.” She winks back at them.
In addition to personal annoyance, they learn during the dream their mark owns a house in Thailand for easy access to his favored sexual pastimes as well as a second bank account in Morocco for his money laundering. Saxon and Co pay them a bonus.
-------------
Three is a fine number; less people to pay, less to keep the secrets they learn, and less to keep hidden from the mark. Plus they already know they work together well and none of them have dead wives creeping around in limbo. Arthur brings the seriousness, that unfailing perfection and work ethic. Eames brings the style and imagination, a million faces with bodies to match and trip up any mark. Ariadne brings the creation, art painted in shards of light inside buildings of the mind.
Together they become your friends, reaching into your back pocket to pluck out your wallet and learn all your secrets while you smile on. Unlike Cobb's method of deception and Mr. Charles, Eames and Arthur learn that happiness and fun breeds ease. Ease breeds unlocking safes and secrets in hand. Ariadne creates a world tailored just to their mark's pleasures so her boys can sweep in and show each mark a good time until they take away the treasure.
(At least that's one way. Good old fashioned fear and intimidation are always perfect back ups.)
One, two, three, extraction in the bag. Arthur's trigger finger stays true; Eames smile does not falter; and Ariadne balances it all, bringing utter realism to every single dream.
At least that’s the plan. In dreams things twist and change; one never does know just what to expect.
---------------
“I love casino jobs,” Eames says as he slides onto the stool beside Ariadne at the bar, facing out toward the casino.
Ariadne glances at the redhead decked out in a slinky purple dress out of the corner of her eye. “You just had to make her busty.”
Eames smiles but does not look at the other woman. He brushes a hand through his short wavy hair.
“Best thing to distract most men, as I am sure you are well aware, my dear.”
Ariadne nods. “True.”
Eames turns gracefully and picks up the Manhattan set down by the bar tender. He gives the man a wink full of eyelashes then swivels back around to watch the tables. Ariadne sips her mojito then glances at Eames again. He certainly does have a good amount of cleavage showing in the strapless dress.
“Are you going for the stripper look?” Ariadne asks.
Eames laughs. “Why, do I look like one?”
“No,” she says quickly. Eames glances over at her and Ariadne points at Eames' tasteful black heels. “You'd need some boots.”
Eames turns away and takes a sip of his drink. “Next time.”
Ariadne finishes her drink then turns around in her stool. Three tables away they can see Arthur playing poker with their mark.
“Remind me again why Arthur is gambling and you're not?”
“Because Arthur will lose and that will make Mr. Dodds quite happy.” Eames takes a sip from his glass. “I also look better in the dress.”
At the table, Arthur folds and glances at the two women quickly. Eames puts his drink down behind him on the bar then stands up gracefully. He winks at Ariadne.
“My cue.”
“Shake those hips,” Ariadne says then turns back around to the bar.
She checks her watch. Five minutes for Eames to distract their mark giving Arthur five more to run up to Dodds' hotel room and reach the safe; finishing with an extra five to analyze the secret papers, reconvene together at the bar, then all kick back with some lovely French singing. So far they've had no trouble from the projections so the job should go smoothly if the pattern keeps up. Still best to stay on alert, however.
Suddenly, someone taps Ariadne's shoulder. She turns and almost chokes in surprise to see their mark smiling back at her.
“I'm Matt,” he says motioning to the bottles behind the bar, “buy you a drink?”
Ariadne glances over at the poker table quickly. Arthur and the redhead beside him are staring at her in surprise. She looks back to Dodds and smiles quickly.
“Sure.”
“Martini? Cosmo? Or are you a simple beer girl?” he asks.
“Uh, a martini is good.”
Dodds sits down beside her and waves a hand at the bar tender, putting up two fingers.
“I was talking to your friend over there.” Dodds motions lazily behind him. “She said you could use some company.”
“My friend?”
“Purple dress,” Dodds says taking the two martini's from the bar tender.
Ariadne shoots an annoyed look at Eames. He only tilts his pretty head and mouths 'brunettes' at her. Ariadne narrows her eyes and takes the offered glass.
“I see.”
Dodds laughs. “Well, I admit, I asked her about you first.”
“I'm flattered.” Ariadne sees Arthur moving toward the stairs out of the corner of her eye. “You came all the way over here just for me.”
Dodds brushes a stray hair out of Ariadne's face in all too transparent 'charming guy' move. He clinks his glass against hers.
“I can't let a lady go without a drink.”
“Lucky me.”
Ariadne shifts herself on her chair so she can keep one eye on Dodds and one eye on the rest of the casino. She sees Eames in a black suit and the face she knows sitting down at the poker table. He flips a familiar red poker chip then catches it. Raising his hands, he claps soundlessly in her direction. Ariadne snorts.
“So, tell me all about yourself,” Dodds says touching her hand.
Ariadne sighs, time for some improvisation, then smiles prettily; “I'd rather hear about you, Matt.”
--------------
Planning night number four at Ariadne's New York apartment. Their mark is spectacularly more boring than any other mark they've had which turns out to make the job harder than expected. For one it narrows down the dreaming choices and drives Ariadne up the wall.
“He’s in at eight every day without fail.” Eames flips over a page and hands one to Arthur. “Out depends on the brief he’s working on, dullest cases. He usually gets himself away by seven.”
“If he’s inconsistent on when he leaves then maybe it should be a morning job.”
“Or a home job,” Eames twirls a finger in the air. “He lives alone in a rather large house.”
“He is a lawyer,” Arthur concedes. “They do tend to enjoy spending the money they make.”
“Ah, don’t we all?” Eames grins then taps the page on the table in front of him. “I can have the layout of his office for you if you’d like.”
“You stick to his boss’ hand gestures. I’ll handle the buildings.”
Suddenly, Ariadne makes a loud, angry noise and smacks her drawing board. “We need a mark who’s Scottish!”
Eames and Arthur both start in surprise. Arthur gives a confused look to Ariadne’s back then the same to Eames.
“And why, pray tell, is that?” Eames asks.
Ariadne twirls her pen around in her fingers and turns her chair away from her drawing board to face the two men. She grins and flings up her hands.
“I want to build a castle.” She points over her shoulder. “This is boring the hell out of me. A castle would be a challenge.” She holds up her hands. “So, Scottish.”
“Oh, well, of course,” Arthur says snidely, “has to be Scottish for a castle.”
“Just because you're not building castles, Arthur, does not mean you should rain on our dear girl’s parade.”
“She's not building castles either.”
“My whole point!” Ariadne cries, throwing her hands up again.
“Okay, sure,” Arthur waves a hand, “I’ll get right out there and find the first guy in a kilt.”
Ariadne sighs. “Not everyone in Scotland wears kilts.”
“And how would you know?”
“Oh, no, she’s quite right, Arthur.” Eames taps Arthur on the knee. “The women tend toward pants a bit more in fact.”
“Why don't we just focus on this?” Arthur points to the papers.
“Not interested in kilts then?”
Arthur sighs. “Eames...”
“You would look rather charming in a kilt, I think.” Eames fingers the edge of Arthur's pants. “Give you a little breeze?”
Ariadne bursts out laughing while Arthur just glares then points at the other man, “Couch.”
Eames’ smile vanishes and Ariadne nearly falls off her chair.
“You don't have a couch at your apartment.” Eames smiles again.
“Worse for you then.” Arthur stands up and shrugs his jacket on.
Eames crosses his arms and leans his chair back on two legs. “Arthur, love, no need to be upset over a thing like kilts.”
Arthur spares Eames a glare then picks up his things and heads for the door. Eames jumps out of the chair and puts himself between Arthur and the door.
“Now, do you want me to chase you? I think you're just being pouty on purpose.”
“Do I look pouty?”
“Yes,” Eames and Ariadne both respond.
Arthur tries to get around Eames but Eames keeps himself in the way.
“I know you're tired, love.” Eames puts his hands on Arthur's waist and slowly walks him backwards. “And you probably have had enough for one day but just stay a bit longer so we can help our girl here. I promise to be on task.”
“Thank you.” Ariadne stands, picking up her cell phone. “I say Chinese.”
Eames lightly pushes Arthur back down into a chair. Arthur sighs and looks up at the Englishman. Eames cups his cheek and gives him a kiss.
“Still putting me on the couch?”
Arthur shakes his head once. “I don't have a couch.”
Eames shrugs. “I suppose I'll have to make due with your bed.”
“How terrible for you,” Arthur replies.
Eames leans down, kissing Arthur again. Arthur slides his hands around Eames stomach, pulling him forward slightly so his shins bump against the edge of the chair. Eames runs a hand down Arthur's tie then whispers in his ear.
“Oh, I think I'll manage.”
----------
They run through narrow Italian streets, uneven stones and decay threatening to trip them up at any moment. Ariadne leads the way, architecture bending just slightly where needed. Eames follows behind reading the pages they stole as he runs, one eye ahead and one eye down. Arthur brings up the rear; half forwards, half backwards as he runs, shooting at projections of Italian police shouting out words that almost aren’t even a real language. The projections practically spit their rage and the bullets which miss hit stone above them to rain down just as deadly.
“Argentina!” Eames shouts as they run. “Dummy corps in Buenos Aires.”
“Left!” Ariadne shouts in response, grabbing Eames by his shirt to swing him the right direction.
“Don’t stop reading, you -” Arthur ducks a flying chunk of stone and shoots one policeman in the chest. “You need the man’s name!”
“Thank you, love, I am well aware.”
Suddenly they pass a side street and two police fly out, one slamming Eames into the wall and the other clothes-lining Arthur.
“Fuck!” Eames snaps.
He shoves back and viciously clocks the man in the jaw with his elbow. The policeman hits the wall in a spin and collapses to the stone street.
The other projection plants a foot on Arthur’s chest and cocks her gun.
“Hey! Basta!” Ariadne shouts and the woman looks up.
A gun appears in Ariadne’s hand and she shoots the policewoman right in the forehead. Eames whips around and raises an eyebrow at her.
“So, you have been practicing.”
She just smirks.
Eames turns back and leans down to grasp Arthur’s hands, pulling up. “Come on, darling, no time for a lie down.”
“My neck...” Arthur groans quietly.
“So, duck next time.”
“Bastard,” Arthur says as he stands.
Eames rubs a hand across Arthur's neck then picks up the papers and Arthur's dropped gun, handing the latter to the point man. Arthur cocks it once and the clip fills up again.
“So?” Arthur points to the papers Eames holds.
Eames opens his mouth then Ariadne shouts, “Run!”
Stone explodes just next to Arthur’s ear, nicking him in the neck.
All three turn and rocket down the alley again. As they run Ariadne pulls a round ball out of her pocket. Suddenly, she slams it into the wall to her left and a wooden door materializes around it. She turns the door knob and the door swings open.
“We're going up.”
Arthur plants at the front of the door, shooting over Eames' shoulder as he catches up, one paper tossed aside as he goes. He bounds up the stairs, grabbing Arthur's arm and pulling him through on the way. The door slams shut into stone behind them.
The stairs are slick, a little foggy from instantaneous creation, but to Ariadne's credit they stay stable. The three extractors wind up and up as if heading to the top of a tall castle tower until they come out into a hall some four or five stories up. The wall across from them is mostly windows looking out onto a view of domed buildings and pottery tiled roofs. The hall looks like a second rate Vatican or an old English university.
They stop for a moment, Arthur looking up and down the hall with gun drawn.
“Eames?” Ariadne asks, shutting a new door over the stairs they came up.
Eames bites his lip as he turns over the page.
“We should have about two minutes,” Arthur says over his shoulder to the others.
“Come on, Eames!” Ariadne shouts.
“I am reading as fast as I can. It is in Spanish, thank you.”
“Italian, Spanish,” Arthur all but growls, “Why can't they just dream in English?”
“Ah ha!” Eames suddenly cries.
Before he can say more Ariadne gasps and yanks him down by his collar as the wall opposite them explodes. The force knocks Arthur off his feet and sends a shower of glass over all three. Arthur and Ariadne jump back up as three black garbed policemen climb in through the newly made hole in the wall. Arthur snaps off two shots taking down a cop for each. The third policeman shoots the wall just above Eames’ head, still on the floor, but Ariadne gets him in the thigh taking him down.
“Come on,” she pulls at Eames' arm, “get up.”
Eames stumbles to his feet, a deep gash across his forehead.
“You okay?” Arthur asks.
Eames rubs blood away from his eyes. “Damn glass.”
“We have to keep moving.” Ariadne heads off to the right. “There will be more.”
Arthur places a hand between Eames' shoulder blades and pushes him after the architect.
They run quickly until they reach an archway leading to a bridge between the building they’re inside and an adjacent one. Ariadne dashes out then abruptly stops in the middle. Projections have appeared at the other end of the bridge.
“Shit.” Ariadne turns around but new police have started to catch up behind them.
“Think I've found the name,” Eames shouts, eyes scanning the page, “It's right -”
A gust of wind suddenly whips the paper out of Eames' hand into the air. It starts to flutter upwards and away from the bridge.
“No!” Ariadne shouts.
She jumps up onto the edge of the bridge then leaps into the open air. Where her foot lands in space a stone step appears and with each motion up more stairs grow under her feet. She makes six steps up toward the sky, high enough so she can reach out and snatch the paper from the air.
She turns at the top step to look back at the men. “I can't read Spanish!”
Then she screams as a gun shot catches her in the shoulder knocking her to her back on the top step.
“Hang on, dear!” Eames climbs up onto the ledge and up the steps, dodging a gun shot.
Arthur gets up onto the edge, shooting right and left as he goes. He doesn't make it further than one foot up before projections grab his other leg and pull him back. Ariadne and Eames hear bones break as Arthur is thrown down onto the stone with an anguished scream.
“Eames!” Ariadne shouts, cradling her wounded shoulder.
Eames whirls around quickly, gun pulled from an inspired place in his coat and he shoots Arthur in the neck with a spectacular splatter of blood. The two on the stairs hiss.
“Jeeze, Eames,” Ariadne groans, handing Eames the paper, “some aim.”
“Not just where I'd intended...”
'Non, rien, de rien, non, je ne regrette rien.'
They both glance up to the sky then down at the projections scrambling up onto the ledge of the bridge toward their sky steps. Eames’ eyes shift back to the paper in his hand.
“So?” Ariadne grimaces in pain. “Before we're torn apart too?”
Eames looks up and smiles smugly at her. “Gustavo Acosta.”
They kick back.
-----------
“So, Saito didn’t have enough with inception?” Eames asks, kicking his legs up on the table. “He needs another go and why not a simple extraction this time?”
“Are you complaining about having a job?” Arthur knocks his feet off the table.
Eames purses his lips and looks over at Arthur. “Was I complaining?”
“Okay, okay.” Ariadne waves her hands at them from where she stands on the other side of the table. “Saito needs information about the attack on his power plant so we’re going to get it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Eames turns back to her and smiles obligingly.
“Our target is head of an opposing company.” Ariadne flips through a folder of papers. “Surprise, surprise, more corporate espionage and intrigue.”
Arthur clears his throat and sits up straight. “I should mention we do have one problem.”
They both look at Arthur. Before either can ask ‘what problem’ someone knocks on the studio door. In perfect time they look to the door then back to Arthur. Arthur gives them a grim smile. Eames stands up and opens the door a crack.
“Hai?” Eames asks.
“I'm Hiro.”
“And?”
Arthur slides over and opens the door all the way. “Come in.”
Eames furrows his eyebrows at Arthur as the man walks in. Arthur just shakes his head. Eames turns and follows Hiro, hovering just behind him.
“And you are?”
“This is Hiro.” Arthur motions at the young man who waves. “He works for Saito.”
“Another tourist?” Eames asks, sitting back down.
“I'm a defector.” Hiro grins proudly. “I used to work for Kobayashi & Bates.”
“Information then,” Ariadne says.
Hiro spreads his arms wide and bows slightly. He steps around the table then leans his thigh against it beside Ariadne.
“I'm your man.” He grins and raises his eyebrows a few times. “Always glad to help out, assist in any way I can. Anything at all, anything you need, name it; for you, I'm here.”
Ariadne looks like she wants to shoot him dream or no dream. “Great... Thanks.”
“Are you quite serious, Arthur?” Eames peers at his partner out of the corner of his eye.
“So!” Arthur says sternly. “The plan?”
Hiro whirls around to face the men, still keeping himself right beside Ariadne. She glares at the side of his head.
“You all need to create some dream world for Kobayashi, right? Well, he’s always at the office so I thought, buh bam,” he drums his hands twice on the table; “why not that?”
Ariadne clears her throat. “Okay, so any information you can give us about his building will help us do that.”
“It’s an office building.” Hiro shrugs. “Gray, desks, elevators, you know, same as back in America.”
Eames turns fully and stares at Arthur in disbelief.
“Got it,” Ariadne makes a circle with her fingers, “but we need more than that. The dream has to be believable. It has to be exactly like real life if this is the route we go.”
Hiro blinks slowly at her. “Oh… gotchya. So, maybe some pictures of it?”
“You’re American, aren’t you?” Eames asks.
Hiro grins. “Yeah, born there, moved here two years ago. Have I got the Japanese accent down yet? Don’t I look Japanese enough? Everyone always knows!”
“Really?” Eames puts a hand on his chest. “I just can’t think how.”
“I know, right?”
Ariadne taps a finger on the table to regain attention. “About the building…”
“Maybe you should just make a whole new one, Ariadne,” Arthur suggests, voice icy.
“Oh, I would love to see your work,” Hiro grins and sits on the edge of the table. “I’m sure you’re very talented.”
Ariadne’s fingers twitch on the folder she holds.
“Are you quite certain you work for Saito?” Eames asks.
Hiro snorts. “Yeah, four months now.”
“Is Saito angry with us?” Eames glances at Arthur and Ariadne.
Arthur tilts his head to the side, not looking at any of them. “Hiro is Saito’s sister’s husband’s nephew as well as a former member of the opposition.”
Hiro bows again. “That would be me.”
Eames scoffs. “You are kidding.”
“Are you blackmailing Saito?” Ariadne asks.
Hiro laughs and slaps the table once. “I do love a woman with a sense of humor. Do you have plans for dinner?”
Ariadne slams the folder down on the table and stalks away. Hiro huffs and turns around to look at Arthur and Eames as if they would share his surprise. Both have a hand over their eyes.
In the dream Arthur has a meeting with Kobayashi about recent safety hazards and problems in the industry while Eames forges the vice president of the company. Eames is sure to suggest negotiations with other energy corporations, such as Saito Industries, to protect the whole. Is Kobayashi worried about what happened to Saito Industries happening to them? Should security be increased? Is there any information to share?
While the boys keep his mind occupied on Saito's company, Ariadne uses the invisibility of women in many Japanese businesses to walk right up to the safe in the president's office and pull out the secret files.
Hiro crouches down beside Ariadne while she quickly scans the pages.
“So.... now that we've found the information the job is over.”
Ariadne spares him an annoyed glance. “I'm reading.”
Hiro blazes on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Since we’re about done you've got some free time!” He puts a hand on her arm. “I don't know if you've been to much of Tokyo but -”
“Time to wake up.”
Ariadne whips a gun out of her pocket and sticks it against Hiro's forehead.
“Wait, what the he -”
She pulls the trigger. Blood splatters onto the paper in her hand and she can't stop a wide grin.
--------------
Arthur and Ariadne sit at a long dinning table with their mark, Nicholas Freeman. The décor of the hall looks very old English with dark wood, hanging tapestries, and various array of antiques scattered decoratively around; windows to the right and a wall showcasing old paintings interspersed with weaponry to the left. Arthur and Ariadne sit to the right of their host while his chief secretary, Eames wearing coal black hair, a crisp blue suit and thin metal glasses, sits to his left.
“And we have a formal proposal written up for you as well,” Ariadne says, taking a sip of her wine. “We will submit that as soon as you need.”
Freeman nods to Eames who jots down a note on the pad beside his plate.
“If you have any conflicts or internal problems we need to know about...” Arthur asks casually, leaning back in his chair.
Freeman purses his lips and they see his eyes flick to an ornate chest against the wall. Ariadne and Arthur glance quickly at each other. Freeman dabs his mouth with his napkin and puts down his fork.
“I would like to know who it is that hired you.”
Ariadne does a double take. “I'm sorry?”
“We're dreaming.” Freeman stares hard at the extractors. “And I want to know why.”
Arthur and Ariadne both jump up.
“Guards!” Freeman shouts.
Arthur whips out his gun but before he can shoot guards seize his arms and throw his gun away. Ariadne tries to get out of reach but two guards grab her before she can pull her own weapon. Freeman stands up from the table, ignoring Eames standing up slowly as well.
He stalks over to Ariadne and puts his hands on his hips. “I want a name.”
She juts out her chin and stares back, silent. Freeman turns from her and looks at Arthur.
“Nothing?” He asks.
Arthur clenches his jaw but keeps eye contact. Freeman flips his blond hair and turns away.
“Fine.”
He walks over to one projection guard and nods. The guard pulls out his gun and points it at Arthur. Freeman turns around and addresses Ariadne.
“A name or I find every place to shoot your man here until he can't stop screaming.”
Before Ariadne can reply a shot rings out and the guard beside Freeman falls to the ground. Freeman whips around to see Eames, clever grin on his face and gun in his hand, standing on the other side of the table.
“Surprise!” Eames coos.
Arthur and Ariadne both move at once. Arthur flips around, punching one man in the jaw and slamming the other in the stomach. Ariadne yanks one arm free, a chop to the man’s neck, only to have the other man holding her arm throw her to the floor.
“Take them down!” Freeman shouts.
More men flood the hall, three going for Eames. One gets a shot to the head but the others grab Eames' arms and get his gun away.
Suddenly, panels of wood begin to crack in the wall. The world outside the windows fades into an unorganized mush of color as the dream starts to falter. Freeman begins to back slowly toward the door.
“Arthur!” Ariadne shouts as she jumps back to her feet. “Freeman is leaving!”
Arthur looks up only to be tackled to the floor by one of the guards he hit.
“Can't let him kill himself,” Eames shouts, breaking free of his projections and jumping up onto the table, scattering dish ware.
The men jump up after Eames and he runs down toward the end of the long table. Looking for a weapon, Eames grabs a sword from where it hangs on the wall. Leaping to the floor, he cuts down the two guards in his way and tries to get back to Ariadne and Arthur. However, the men on the table find swords of their own and jump into Eames' path.
“Ah, very clever boys,” Eames says. “Hardly fair, though, two on one.”
The first guard lunges forward. Eames blocks then swings around to clash with the second. They circle around him slashing out on both sides keeping Eames on the defensive. Eames switches left and right quickly, parrying each sword strike like a metronome. Then he ducks a swing from one side and lunges for the man's mid section barely missing him.
The room starts to shake, everything tilting slightly so they slide to the left until it switches back to horizontal. Above their heads the glass of the two swinging chandeliers abruptly shatters, raining down.
On the other side of the room from Eames, Ariadne swings one high heeled shoe around to impale one man in the ear, dropping him to the ground. However, two projections grab her arms and manage to pin her to the floor before she can fire back again.
Arthur fights with two men as well. He lashes out, quickly kicking one man squarely in the chest. The second smashes his fist into Arthur's stomach, knocking him against the wall. He nearly falls over, stars flashing in his eyes but then he sees a porcelain vase to his left.
“Hey!” Arthur shouts and smashes the vase over one man's head.
The guard Arthur kicked begins to get up from the floor. Before he can move far, Arthur takes the gun of the fallen projection and shoots him.
“Eames!” Arthur shouts over his shoulder, shooting one man holding Ariadne. “Come on!”
Eames glances at the others, ducking swinging metal then thrusting forward to catch one man in the shoulder. The projection stumbles back but doesn't fall, his sword swinging wildly at Eames in response.
“Coming, love!” Eames grins, shifting his weight and taking the offensive.
Eames pushes the man back, cut for cut until he hits the table. The man flips around into open space again as the other guard comes at Eames on the left. Eames barely blocks the swing then kicks a chair in the man's path. He turns to engage the other projection just as a sword stabs into his stomach. Eames makes a strangled cry and drops his sword.
“Arthur!” Ariadne shouts.
Arthur shoots the last man holding her down then turns to where she points in time to see Eames crumple to the ground. Arthur sprints toward the swordsmen, shooting both projections before they have time to switch weapons. Skidding down to his knees, Arthur grabs Eames head. Eames groans in pain at the movement.
“Shh, shh,” Arthur hushes.
“Very sorry, dear,” Eames groans, “only had one sword to fight the two of them.”
Arthur kisses his forehead. “I’ll dream you a second next time.”
Eames gasps sharply. “Shoot me, please.”
Arthur pets Eames’ hair and points the gun at his chest. “See you soon.” He pulls the trigger with a bang.
When he stands he turns back to Ariadne, all projections taken care of.
She cracks half a smile at him. “You have blood on your suit.”
The room shakes again and Arthur scowls. “No more dinner dreams.”
They unplug, pack up, and get out before their mark wakes up. They also end up returning half of the down payment to their clients with a 'sorry about that' note. Extraction doesn't always end in success despite their marvelous track record. Luckily it is a first time client and the three of them won't get shot for their troubles, probably.
-------------
By the time they find their way up to their room on the 5th floor it is well past three in the morning. Ariadne stumbles after the boys into their room, her own room key forgotten in a pocket for sure. Arthur bolts the door twice behind them as Eames throws his jacket towards the table against the wall and misses.
“I need...” Ariadne falls face first onto the bed and slowly curls her legs up. “...need water... yeah, or a vodka.”
“None for you, dear,” Eames says, carefully stepping out of his shoes and pushing them under a chair with his feet.
“We have to be up at 8.” Arthur unclasps his watch and places it on the bedside table next to Ariadne. “We have a stop over in Kraków.”
“Mmhmm,” Eames mummers as he lies down on the other side of the bed leaving a half person sized space between himself and Ariadne.
Arthur glances over. “It's not a three person bed.”
“Plenty of space, Arthur,” Eames mumbles half into his pillow.
Arthur taps Ariadne’s ankle. “Ariadne, you have your own room.”
She twitches but doesn’t respond. Arthur rubs his hands over his face.
“Both of you get up.”
Neither one moves.
“We can’t just…” Arthur trails off and sighs.
Ariadne is definitely already asleep and he's certain Eames won't move. He sighs again, taking off his shoes and belt. Slipping in between the two, Arthur settles down and wraps one arm around Eames.
The morning brings Arthur opening his eyes to his cheek resting on Eames' hair. Arthur turns his head to the right to see the clock glowing '7:45' on the side table. Somehow in the night he has ended up on his back with both Eames and Ariadne using his chest for a pillow. Ariadne's one hand rests half under her cheek while Eames has a hand tucked up under Arthur's shirt on his stomach. Arthur feels the finger tips of Eames' other hand wrapped underneath them at the base of his neck.
They should be getting up now so close to eight. Arthur can feel the ache from an uncomfortable night sleep starting in his shoulders and back. Ariadne and Eames still breathe slow and peaceful.
Arthur moves his hands to shake them both awake but ends up just slowly putting them down. He strokes his fingers over Ariadne's hair and kisses Eames' forehead where it meets his hair. Eames breathes in deeply and Arthur feels him smile slowly against his chest. Finger tips begin to make small circles on his stomach.
“No forced wake up call?” Eames asks quietly.
“We should get up.”
Ariadne shifts slightly closer and makes a small noise. Head tilting up, Eames nestles his face against Arthur's neck. Fingers brush lightly at the base of his neck and Eames kisses Arthur's skin twice, soft and tired. Arthur involuntarily mirrors Ariadne's contented noise of a moment earlier and glances at the clock again.
“So?” Eames whispers against Arthur.
“Five minutes.”
Part Two here
Fandom: Inception
Disclaimer: The movie Inception does not belong to me and I am making no money from this story, just a good-ole fanwork!
Pairing/Characters: Arthur, Eames, Ariadne; Arthur/Eames (Not the focus, however)
Word Count: 13,144
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After the success of inception Arthur, Eames, and Ariadne form an extraction team, stealing secrets with success and sometimes failure and danger. Together the Architect, the Forger, and the Point man travel the world of dreams, adventure after adventure, a life of beautiful crime.
Author notes: I fell in love with the idea of these three working together and this somehow spiraled into this epic work. I wanted it to be something more fun and mostly happy what with all the dark and depressing works all over this fandom. I do hope it delivers. Enjoy! [The Second and Third parts, now completed, can be found here: Life in a Dreaming Trio and The Architect, The Forger, and The Point Man]
Their first job as a trio ends up not in Los Angeles as Arthur had planned or Casablanca as Eames had joked or Sidney as Ariadne had crossed her fingers for but in fact Cairo.
(It would have been a quartet but Yusuf told them to ‘stuff it, he’s staying at his shop for a while, thanks, hope you don’t die.’)
The dream consists of one cityscape layer, two forges and Arthur getting shot in the shoulder.
“I said twenty minutes.” Arthur throws stacks of papers for the incinerator in Eames’ general direction. “Twenty minutes and surprise knock at the door. She says, ‘Oh hello, where have you been? I’ll deal with this later.’ But, no, instead it’s you: ‘Whoops, sorry Arthur, got detained, how’s the shoulder?’”
“How is the shoulder? Still have that psychosomatic smarting, dear?”
Arthur twitches once and glares. “You're lucky we're not dreaming.”
“Beware the trigger finger, eh?”
Arthur hits Eames in the face with a folder but Ariadne catches the case of drafting pencils before it can peg Eames in the eye.
“I’m saving these, don’t get blood on them.”
“Yes, Arthur,” Eames picks up the silver PASIV case as they head to the door, “mustn’t destroy our dear architect’s tools.”
“I really hate you.”
Eames kisses Arthur’s cheek. “No, you don’t.”
Ariadne almost slams the door in their faces as she goes through first.
“I hate you both.” She winks back at them.
In addition to personal annoyance, they learn during the dream their mark owns a house in Thailand for easy access to his favored sexual pastimes as well as a second bank account in Morocco for his money laundering. Saxon and Co pay them a bonus.
-------------
Three is a fine number; less people to pay, less to keep the secrets they learn, and less to keep hidden from the mark. Plus they already know they work together well and none of them have dead wives creeping around in limbo. Arthur brings the seriousness, that unfailing perfection and work ethic. Eames brings the style and imagination, a million faces with bodies to match and trip up any mark. Ariadne brings the creation, art painted in shards of light inside buildings of the mind.
Together they become your friends, reaching into your back pocket to pluck out your wallet and learn all your secrets while you smile on. Unlike Cobb's method of deception and Mr. Charles, Eames and Arthur learn that happiness and fun breeds ease. Ease breeds unlocking safes and secrets in hand. Ariadne creates a world tailored just to their mark's pleasures so her boys can sweep in and show each mark a good time until they take away the treasure.
(At least that's one way. Good old fashioned fear and intimidation are always perfect back ups.)
One, two, three, extraction in the bag. Arthur's trigger finger stays true; Eames smile does not falter; and Ariadne balances it all, bringing utter realism to every single dream.
At least that’s the plan. In dreams things twist and change; one never does know just what to expect.
---------------
“I love casino jobs,” Eames says as he slides onto the stool beside Ariadne at the bar, facing out toward the casino.
Ariadne glances at the redhead decked out in a slinky purple dress out of the corner of her eye. “You just had to make her busty.”
Eames smiles but does not look at the other woman. He brushes a hand through his short wavy hair.
“Best thing to distract most men, as I am sure you are well aware, my dear.”
Ariadne nods. “True.”
Eames turns gracefully and picks up the Manhattan set down by the bar tender. He gives the man a wink full of eyelashes then swivels back around to watch the tables. Ariadne sips her mojito then glances at Eames again. He certainly does have a good amount of cleavage showing in the strapless dress.
“Are you going for the stripper look?” Ariadne asks.
Eames laughs. “Why, do I look like one?”
“No,” she says quickly. Eames glances over at her and Ariadne points at Eames' tasteful black heels. “You'd need some boots.”
Eames turns away and takes a sip of his drink. “Next time.”
Ariadne finishes her drink then turns around in her stool. Three tables away they can see Arthur playing poker with their mark.
“Remind me again why Arthur is gambling and you're not?”
“Because Arthur will lose and that will make Mr. Dodds quite happy.” Eames takes a sip from his glass. “I also look better in the dress.”
At the table, Arthur folds and glances at the two women quickly. Eames puts his drink down behind him on the bar then stands up gracefully. He winks at Ariadne.
“My cue.”
“Shake those hips,” Ariadne says then turns back around to the bar.
She checks her watch. Five minutes for Eames to distract their mark giving Arthur five more to run up to Dodds' hotel room and reach the safe; finishing with an extra five to analyze the secret papers, reconvene together at the bar, then all kick back with some lovely French singing. So far they've had no trouble from the projections so the job should go smoothly if the pattern keeps up. Still best to stay on alert, however.
Suddenly, someone taps Ariadne's shoulder. She turns and almost chokes in surprise to see their mark smiling back at her.
“I'm Matt,” he says motioning to the bottles behind the bar, “buy you a drink?”
Ariadne glances over at the poker table quickly. Arthur and the redhead beside him are staring at her in surprise. She looks back to Dodds and smiles quickly.
“Sure.”
“Martini? Cosmo? Or are you a simple beer girl?” he asks.
“Uh, a martini is good.”
Dodds sits down beside her and waves a hand at the bar tender, putting up two fingers.
“I was talking to your friend over there.” Dodds motions lazily behind him. “She said you could use some company.”
“My friend?”
“Purple dress,” Dodds says taking the two martini's from the bar tender.
Ariadne shoots an annoyed look at Eames. He only tilts his pretty head and mouths 'brunettes' at her. Ariadne narrows her eyes and takes the offered glass.
“I see.”
Dodds laughs. “Well, I admit, I asked her about you first.”
“I'm flattered.” Ariadne sees Arthur moving toward the stairs out of the corner of her eye. “You came all the way over here just for me.”
Dodds brushes a stray hair out of Ariadne's face in all too transparent 'charming guy' move. He clinks his glass against hers.
“I can't let a lady go without a drink.”
“Lucky me.”
Ariadne shifts herself on her chair so she can keep one eye on Dodds and one eye on the rest of the casino. She sees Eames in a black suit and the face she knows sitting down at the poker table. He flips a familiar red poker chip then catches it. Raising his hands, he claps soundlessly in her direction. Ariadne snorts.
“So, tell me all about yourself,” Dodds says touching her hand.
Ariadne sighs, time for some improvisation, then smiles prettily; “I'd rather hear about you, Matt.”
--------------
Planning night number four at Ariadne's New York apartment. Their mark is spectacularly more boring than any other mark they've had which turns out to make the job harder than expected. For one it narrows down the dreaming choices and drives Ariadne up the wall.
“He’s in at eight every day without fail.” Eames flips over a page and hands one to Arthur. “Out depends on the brief he’s working on, dullest cases. He usually gets himself away by seven.”
“If he’s inconsistent on when he leaves then maybe it should be a morning job.”
“Or a home job,” Eames twirls a finger in the air. “He lives alone in a rather large house.”
“He is a lawyer,” Arthur concedes. “They do tend to enjoy spending the money they make.”
“Ah, don’t we all?” Eames grins then taps the page on the table in front of him. “I can have the layout of his office for you if you’d like.”
“You stick to his boss’ hand gestures. I’ll handle the buildings.”
Suddenly, Ariadne makes a loud, angry noise and smacks her drawing board. “We need a mark who’s Scottish!”
Eames and Arthur both start in surprise. Arthur gives a confused look to Ariadne’s back then the same to Eames.
“And why, pray tell, is that?” Eames asks.
Ariadne twirls her pen around in her fingers and turns her chair away from her drawing board to face the two men. She grins and flings up her hands.
“I want to build a castle.” She points over her shoulder. “This is boring the hell out of me. A castle would be a challenge.” She holds up her hands. “So, Scottish.”
“Oh, well, of course,” Arthur says snidely, “has to be Scottish for a castle.”
“Just because you're not building castles, Arthur, does not mean you should rain on our dear girl’s parade.”
“She's not building castles either.”
“My whole point!” Ariadne cries, throwing her hands up again.
“Okay, sure,” Arthur waves a hand, “I’ll get right out there and find the first guy in a kilt.”
Ariadne sighs. “Not everyone in Scotland wears kilts.”
“And how would you know?”
“Oh, no, she’s quite right, Arthur.” Eames taps Arthur on the knee. “The women tend toward pants a bit more in fact.”
“Why don't we just focus on this?” Arthur points to the papers.
“Not interested in kilts then?”
Arthur sighs. “Eames...”
“You would look rather charming in a kilt, I think.” Eames fingers the edge of Arthur's pants. “Give you a little breeze?”
Ariadne bursts out laughing while Arthur just glares then points at the other man, “Couch.”
Eames’ smile vanishes and Ariadne nearly falls off her chair.
“You don't have a couch at your apartment.” Eames smiles again.
“Worse for you then.” Arthur stands up and shrugs his jacket on.
Eames crosses his arms and leans his chair back on two legs. “Arthur, love, no need to be upset over a thing like kilts.”
Arthur spares Eames a glare then picks up his things and heads for the door. Eames jumps out of the chair and puts himself between Arthur and the door.
“Now, do you want me to chase you? I think you're just being pouty on purpose.”
“Do I look pouty?”
“Yes,” Eames and Ariadne both respond.
Arthur tries to get around Eames but Eames keeps himself in the way.
“I know you're tired, love.” Eames puts his hands on Arthur's waist and slowly walks him backwards. “And you probably have had enough for one day but just stay a bit longer so we can help our girl here. I promise to be on task.”
“Thank you.” Ariadne stands, picking up her cell phone. “I say Chinese.”
Eames lightly pushes Arthur back down into a chair. Arthur sighs and looks up at the Englishman. Eames cups his cheek and gives him a kiss.
“Still putting me on the couch?”
Arthur shakes his head once. “I don't have a couch.”
Eames shrugs. “I suppose I'll have to make due with your bed.”
“How terrible for you,” Arthur replies.
Eames leans down, kissing Arthur again. Arthur slides his hands around Eames stomach, pulling him forward slightly so his shins bump against the edge of the chair. Eames runs a hand down Arthur's tie then whispers in his ear.
“Oh, I think I'll manage.”
----------
They run through narrow Italian streets, uneven stones and decay threatening to trip them up at any moment. Ariadne leads the way, architecture bending just slightly where needed. Eames follows behind reading the pages they stole as he runs, one eye ahead and one eye down. Arthur brings up the rear; half forwards, half backwards as he runs, shooting at projections of Italian police shouting out words that almost aren’t even a real language. The projections practically spit their rage and the bullets which miss hit stone above them to rain down just as deadly.
“Argentina!” Eames shouts as they run. “Dummy corps in Buenos Aires.”
“Left!” Ariadne shouts in response, grabbing Eames by his shirt to swing him the right direction.
“Don’t stop reading, you -” Arthur ducks a flying chunk of stone and shoots one policeman in the chest. “You need the man’s name!”
“Thank you, love, I am well aware.”
Suddenly they pass a side street and two police fly out, one slamming Eames into the wall and the other clothes-lining Arthur.
“Fuck!” Eames snaps.
He shoves back and viciously clocks the man in the jaw with his elbow. The policeman hits the wall in a spin and collapses to the stone street.
The other projection plants a foot on Arthur’s chest and cocks her gun.
“Hey! Basta!” Ariadne shouts and the woman looks up.
A gun appears in Ariadne’s hand and she shoots the policewoman right in the forehead. Eames whips around and raises an eyebrow at her.
“So, you have been practicing.”
She just smirks.
Eames turns back and leans down to grasp Arthur’s hands, pulling up. “Come on, darling, no time for a lie down.”
“My neck...” Arthur groans quietly.
“So, duck next time.”
“Bastard,” Arthur says as he stands.
Eames rubs a hand across Arthur's neck then picks up the papers and Arthur's dropped gun, handing the latter to the point man. Arthur cocks it once and the clip fills up again.
“So?” Arthur points to the papers Eames holds.
Eames opens his mouth then Ariadne shouts, “Run!”
Stone explodes just next to Arthur’s ear, nicking him in the neck.
All three turn and rocket down the alley again. As they run Ariadne pulls a round ball out of her pocket. Suddenly, she slams it into the wall to her left and a wooden door materializes around it. She turns the door knob and the door swings open.
“We're going up.”
Arthur plants at the front of the door, shooting over Eames' shoulder as he catches up, one paper tossed aside as he goes. He bounds up the stairs, grabbing Arthur's arm and pulling him through on the way. The door slams shut into stone behind them.
The stairs are slick, a little foggy from instantaneous creation, but to Ariadne's credit they stay stable. The three extractors wind up and up as if heading to the top of a tall castle tower until they come out into a hall some four or five stories up. The wall across from them is mostly windows looking out onto a view of domed buildings and pottery tiled roofs. The hall looks like a second rate Vatican or an old English university.
They stop for a moment, Arthur looking up and down the hall with gun drawn.
“Eames?” Ariadne asks, shutting a new door over the stairs they came up.
Eames bites his lip as he turns over the page.
“We should have about two minutes,” Arthur says over his shoulder to the others.
“Come on, Eames!” Ariadne shouts.
“I am reading as fast as I can. It is in Spanish, thank you.”
“Italian, Spanish,” Arthur all but growls, “Why can't they just dream in English?”
“Ah ha!” Eames suddenly cries.
Before he can say more Ariadne gasps and yanks him down by his collar as the wall opposite them explodes. The force knocks Arthur off his feet and sends a shower of glass over all three. Arthur and Ariadne jump back up as three black garbed policemen climb in through the newly made hole in the wall. Arthur snaps off two shots taking down a cop for each. The third policeman shoots the wall just above Eames’ head, still on the floor, but Ariadne gets him in the thigh taking him down.
“Come on,” she pulls at Eames' arm, “get up.”
Eames stumbles to his feet, a deep gash across his forehead.
“You okay?” Arthur asks.
Eames rubs blood away from his eyes. “Damn glass.”
“We have to keep moving.” Ariadne heads off to the right. “There will be more.”
Arthur places a hand between Eames' shoulder blades and pushes him after the architect.
They run quickly until they reach an archway leading to a bridge between the building they’re inside and an adjacent one. Ariadne dashes out then abruptly stops in the middle. Projections have appeared at the other end of the bridge.
“Shit.” Ariadne turns around but new police have started to catch up behind them.
“Think I've found the name,” Eames shouts, eyes scanning the page, “It's right -”
A gust of wind suddenly whips the paper out of Eames' hand into the air. It starts to flutter upwards and away from the bridge.
“No!” Ariadne shouts.
She jumps up onto the edge of the bridge then leaps into the open air. Where her foot lands in space a stone step appears and with each motion up more stairs grow under her feet. She makes six steps up toward the sky, high enough so she can reach out and snatch the paper from the air.
She turns at the top step to look back at the men. “I can't read Spanish!”
Then she screams as a gun shot catches her in the shoulder knocking her to her back on the top step.
“Hang on, dear!” Eames climbs up onto the ledge and up the steps, dodging a gun shot.
Arthur gets up onto the edge, shooting right and left as he goes. He doesn't make it further than one foot up before projections grab his other leg and pull him back. Ariadne and Eames hear bones break as Arthur is thrown down onto the stone with an anguished scream.
“Eames!” Ariadne shouts, cradling her wounded shoulder.
Eames whirls around quickly, gun pulled from an inspired place in his coat and he shoots Arthur in the neck with a spectacular splatter of blood. The two on the stairs hiss.
“Jeeze, Eames,” Ariadne groans, handing Eames the paper, “some aim.”
“Not just where I'd intended...”
'Non, rien, de rien, non, je ne regrette rien.'
They both glance up to the sky then down at the projections scrambling up onto the ledge of the bridge toward their sky steps. Eames’ eyes shift back to the paper in his hand.
“So?” Ariadne grimaces in pain. “Before we're torn apart too?”
Eames looks up and smiles smugly at her. “Gustavo Acosta.”
They kick back.
-----------
“So, Saito didn’t have enough with inception?” Eames asks, kicking his legs up on the table. “He needs another go and why not a simple extraction this time?”
“Are you complaining about having a job?” Arthur knocks his feet off the table.
Eames purses his lips and looks over at Arthur. “Was I complaining?”
“Okay, okay.” Ariadne waves her hands at them from where she stands on the other side of the table. “Saito needs information about the attack on his power plant so we’re going to get it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Eames turns back to her and smiles obligingly.
“Our target is head of an opposing company.” Ariadne flips through a folder of papers. “Surprise, surprise, more corporate espionage and intrigue.”
Arthur clears his throat and sits up straight. “I should mention we do have one problem.”
They both look at Arthur. Before either can ask ‘what problem’ someone knocks on the studio door. In perfect time they look to the door then back to Arthur. Arthur gives them a grim smile. Eames stands up and opens the door a crack.
“Hai?” Eames asks.
“I'm Hiro.”
“And?”
Arthur slides over and opens the door all the way. “Come in.”
Eames furrows his eyebrows at Arthur as the man walks in. Arthur just shakes his head. Eames turns and follows Hiro, hovering just behind him.
“And you are?”
“This is Hiro.” Arthur motions at the young man who waves. “He works for Saito.”
“Another tourist?” Eames asks, sitting back down.
“I'm a defector.” Hiro grins proudly. “I used to work for Kobayashi & Bates.”
“Information then,” Ariadne says.
Hiro spreads his arms wide and bows slightly. He steps around the table then leans his thigh against it beside Ariadne.
“I'm your man.” He grins and raises his eyebrows a few times. “Always glad to help out, assist in any way I can. Anything at all, anything you need, name it; for you, I'm here.”
Ariadne looks like she wants to shoot him dream or no dream. “Great... Thanks.”
“Are you quite serious, Arthur?” Eames peers at his partner out of the corner of his eye.
“So!” Arthur says sternly. “The plan?”
Hiro whirls around to face the men, still keeping himself right beside Ariadne. She glares at the side of his head.
“You all need to create some dream world for Kobayashi, right? Well, he’s always at the office so I thought, buh bam,” he drums his hands twice on the table; “why not that?”
Ariadne clears her throat. “Okay, so any information you can give us about his building will help us do that.”
“It’s an office building.” Hiro shrugs. “Gray, desks, elevators, you know, same as back in America.”
Eames turns fully and stares at Arthur in disbelief.
“Got it,” Ariadne makes a circle with her fingers, “but we need more than that. The dream has to be believable. It has to be exactly like real life if this is the route we go.”
Hiro blinks slowly at her. “Oh… gotchya. So, maybe some pictures of it?”
“You’re American, aren’t you?” Eames asks.
Hiro grins. “Yeah, born there, moved here two years ago. Have I got the Japanese accent down yet? Don’t I look Japanese enough? Everyone always knows!”
“Really?” Eames puts a hand on his chest. “I just can’t think how.”
“I know, right?”
Ariadne taps a finger on the table to regain attention. “About the building…”
“Maybe you should just make a whole new one, Ariadne,” Arthur suggests, voice icy.
“Oh, I would love to see your work,” Hiro grins and sits on the edge of the table. “I’m sure you’re very talented.”
Ariadne’s fingers twitch on the folder she holds.
“Are you quite certain you work for Saito?” Eames asks.
Hiro snorts. “Yeah, four months now.”
“Is Saito angry with us?” Eames glances at Arthur and Ariadne.
Arthur tilts his head to the side, not looking at any of them. “Hiro is Saito’s sister’s husband’s nephew as well as a former member of the opposition.”
Hiro bows again. “That would be me.”
Eames scoffs. “You are kidding.”
“Are you blackmailing Saito?” Ariadne asks.
Hiro laughs and slaps the table once. “I do love a woman with a sense of humor. Do you have plans for dinner?”
Ariadne slams the folder down on the table and stalks away. Hiro huffs and turns around to look at Arthur and Eames as if they would share his surprise. Both have a hand over their eyes.
In the dream Arthur has a meeting with Kobayashi about recent safety hazards and problems in the industry while Eames forges the vice president of the company. Eames is sure to suggest negotiations with other energy corporations, such as Saito Industries, to protect the whole. Is Kobayashi worried about what happened to Saito Industries happening to them? Should security be increased? Is there any information to share?
While the boys keep his mind occupied on Saito's company, Ariadne uses the invisibility of women in many Japanese businesses to walk right up to the safe in the president's office and pull out the secret files.
Hiro crouches down beside Ariadne while she quickly scans the pages.
“So.... now that we've found the information the job is over.”
Ariadne spares him an annoyed glance. “I'm reading.”
Hiro blazes on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Since we’re about done you've got some free time!” He puts a hand on her arm. “I don't know if you've been to much of Tokyo but -”
“Time to wake up.”
Ariadne whips a gun out of her pocket and sticks it against Hiro's forehead.
“Wait, what the he -”
She pulls the trigger. Blood splatters onto the paper in her hand and she can't stop a wide grin.
--------------
Arthur and Ariadne sit at a long dinning table with their mark, Nicholas Freeman. The décor of the hall looks very old English with dark wood, hanging tapestries, and various array of antiques scattered decoratively around; windows to the right and a wall showcasing old paintings interspersed with weaponry to the left. Arthur and Ariadne sit to the right of their host while his chief secretary, Eames wearing coal black hair, a crisp blue suit and thin metal glasses, sits to his left.
“And we have a formal proposal written up for you as well,” Ariadne says, taking a sip of her wine. “We will submit that as soon as you need.”
Freeman nods to Eames who jots down a note on the pad beside his plate.
“If you have any conflicts or internal problems we need to know about...” Arthur asks casually, leaning back in his chair.
Freeman purses his lips and they see his eyes flick to an ornate chest against the wall. Ariadne and Arthur glance quickly at each other. Freeman dabs his mouth with his napkin and puts down his fork.
“I would like to know who it is that hired you.”
Ariadne does a double take. “I'm sorry?”
“We're dreaming.” Freeman stares hard at the extractors. “And I want to know why.”
Arthur and Ariadne both jump up.
“Guards!” Freeman shouts.
Arthur whips out his gun but before he can shoot guards seize his arms and throw his gun away. Ariadne tries to get out of reach but two guards grab her before she can pull her own weapon. Freeman stands up from the table, ignoring Eames standing up slowly as well.
He stalks over to Ariadne and puts his hands on his hips. “I want a name.”
She juts out her chin and stares back, silent. Freeman turns from her and looks at Arthur.
“Nothing?” He asks.
Arthur clenches his jaw but keeps eye contact. Freeman flips his blond hair and turns away.
“Fine.”
He walks over to one projection guard and nods. The guard pulls out his gun and points it at Arthur. Freeman turns around and addresses Ariadne.
“A name or I find every place to shoot your man here until he can't stop screaming.”
Before Ariadne can reply a shot rings out and the guard beside Freeman falls to the ground. Freeman whips around to see Eames, clever grin on his face and gun in his hand, standing on the other side of the table.
“Surprise!” Eames coos.
Arthur and Ariadne both move at once. Arthur flips around, punching one man in the jaw and slamming the other in the stomach. Ariadne yanks one arm free, a chop to the man’s neck, only to have the other man holding her arm throw her to the floor.
“Take them down!” Freeman shouts.
More men flood the hall, three going for Eames. One gets a shot to the head but the others grab Eames' arms and get his gun away.
Suddenly, panels of wood begin to crack in the wall. The world outside the windows fades into an unorganized mush of color as the dream starts to falter. Freeman begins to back slowly toward the door.
“Arthur!” Ariadne shouts as she jumps back to her feet. “Freeman is leaving!”
Arthur looks up only to be tackled to the floor by one of the guards he hit.
“Can't let him kill himself,” Eames shouts, breaking free of his projections and jumping up onto the table, scattering dish ware.
The men jump up after Eames and he runs down toward the end of the long table. Looking for a weapon, Eames grabs a sword from where it hangs on the wall. Leaping to the floor, he cuts down the two guards in his way and tries to get back to Ariadne and Arthur. However, the men on the table find swords of their own and jump into Eames' path.
“Ah, very clever boys,” Eames says. “Hardly fair, though, two on one.”
The first guard lunges forward. Eames blocks then swings around to clash with the second. They circle around him slashing out on both sides keeping Eames on the defensive. Eames switches left and right quickly, parrying each sword strike like a metronome. Then he ducks a swing from one side and lunges for the man's mid section barely missing him.
The room starts to shake, everything tilting slightly so they slide to the left until it switches back to horizontal. Above their heads the glass of the two swinging chandeliers abruptly shatters, raining down.
On the other side of the room from Eames, Ariadne swings one high heeled shoe around to impale one man in the ear, dropping him to the ground. However, two projections grab her arms and manage to pin her to the floor before she can fire back again.
Arthur fights with two men as well. He lashes out, quickly kicking one man squarely in the chest. The second smashes his fist into Arthur's stomach, knocking him against the wall. He nearly falls over, stars flashing in his eyes but then he sees a porcelain vase to his left.
“Hey!” Arthur shouts and smashes the vase over one man's head.
The guard Arthur kicked begins to get up from the floor. Before he can move far, Arthur takes the gun of the fallen projection and shoots him.
“Eames!” Arthur shouts over his shoulder, shooting one man holding Ariadne. “Come on!”
Eames glances at the others, ducking swinging metal then thrusting forward to catch one man in the shoulder. The projection stumbles back but doesn't fall, his sword swinging wildly at Eames in response.
“Coming, love!” Eames grins, shifting his weight and taking the offensive.
Eames pushes the man back, cut for cut until he hits the table. The man flips around into open space again as the other guard comes at Eames on the left. Eames barely blocks the swing then kicks a chair in the man's path. He turns to engage the other projection just as a sword stabs into his stomach. Eames makes a strangled cry and drops his sword.
“Arthur!” Ariadne shouts.
Arthur shoots the last man holding her down then turns to where she points in time to see Eames crumple to the ground. Arthur sprints toward the swordsmen, shooting both projections before they have time to switch weapons. Skidding down to his knees, Arthur grabs Eames head. Eames groans in pain at the movement.
“Shh, shh,” Arthur hushes.
“Very sorry, dear,” Eames groans, “only had one sword to fight the two of them.”
Arthur kisses his forehead. “I’ll dream you a second next time.”
Eames gasps sharply. “Shoot me, please.”
Arthur pets Eames’ hair and points the gun at his chest. “See you soon.” He pulls the trigger with a bang.
When he stands he turns back to Ariadne, all projections taken care of.
She cracks half a smile at him. “You have blood on your suit.”
The room shakes again and Arthur scowls. “No more dinner dreams.”
They unplug, pack up, and get out before their mark wakes up. They also end up returning half of the down payment to their clients with a 'sorry about that' note. Extraction doesn't always end in success despite their marvelous track record. Luckily it is a first time client and the three of them won't get shot for their troubles, probably.
-------------
By the time they find their way up to their room on the 5th floor it is well past three in the morning. Ariadne stumbles after the boys into their room, her own room key forgotten in a pocket for sure. Arthur bolts the door twice behind them as Eames throws his jacket towards the table against the wall and misses.
“I need...” Ariadne falls face first onto the bed and slowly curls her legs up. “...need water... yeah, or a vodka.”
“None for you, dear,” Eames says, carefully stepping out of his shoes and pushing them under a chair with his feet.
“We have to be up at 8.” Arthur unclasps his watch and places it on the bedside table next to Ariadne. “We have a stop over in Kraków.”
“Mmhmm,” Eames mummers as he lies down on the other side of the bed leaving a half person sized space between himself and Ariadne.
Arthur glances over. “It's not a three person bed.”
“Plenty of space, Arthur,” Eames mumbles half into his pillow.
Arthur taps Ariadne’s ankle. “Ariadne, you have your own room.”
She twitches but doesn’t respond. Arthur rubs his hands over his face.
“Both of you get up.”
Neither one moves.
“We can’t just…” Arthur trails off and sighs.
Ariadne is definitely already asleep and he's certain Eames won't move. He sighs again, taking off his shoes and belt. Slipping in between the two, Arthur settles down and wraps one arm around Eames.
The morning brings Arthur opening his eyes to his cheek resting on Eames' hair. Arthur turns his head to the right to see the clock glowing '7:45' on the side table. Somehow in the night he has ended up on his back with both Eames and Ariadne using his chest for a pillow. Ariadne's one hand rests half under her cheek while Eames has a hand tucked up under Arthur's shirt on his stomach. Arthur feels the finger tips of Eames' other hand wrapped underneath them at the base of his neck.
They should be getting up now so close to eight. Arthur can feel the ache from an uncomfortable night sleep starting in his shoulders and back. Ariadne and Eames still breathe slow and peaceful.
Arthur moves his hands to shake them both awake but ends up just slowly putting them down. He strokes his fingers over Ariadne's hair and kisses Eames' forehead where it meets his hair. Eames breathes in deeply and Arthur feels him smile slowly against his chest. Finger tips begin to make small circles on his stomach.
“No forced wake up call?” Eames asks quietly.
“We should get up.”
Ariadne shifts slightly closer and makes a small noise. Head tilting up, Eames nestles his face against Arthur's neck. Fingers brush lightly at the base of his neck and Eames kisses Arthur's skin twice, soft and tired. Arthur involuntarily mirrors Ariadne's contented noise of a moment earlier and glances at the clock again.
“So?” Eames whispers against Arthur.
“Five minutes.”
Part Two here