Under My Skin
Title: Under My Skin
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, Yusuf, Dom (mentions Saito but he's sleeping!)
Word Count: 2,005
Rating: PG
Summary: Arthur puts the empty record sleeve down on the table and walks determinedly across the room over to Eames. He stops at the edge of the board Eames stands in front of then holds out his hand. “Care for a dance, Mr. Eames?”
[Ariadne's POV, but don't worry she's a real person and not cardboard.]
Author notes: Holy shit! I wrote something for Inception which is actaully short!? It's anarchy! I wouldn't go so far as to say this is in the same universe as my Trio series... except that in my brain it totally is. But really, its a stand alone, have no fear. I just like romantic dancing.
And to get you in the right mood: I've Got You Under My Skin
Saturday, early afternoon in the Paris loft, finds every member of the inception team hard at work. During the job it’s been a bit of rarity for all of them to be present at the same time unless someone calls a specific meeting. Often Saito is out obtaining funds or apparently buying airlines. Eames has a ‘job’ with Fisher and Morrow which often means the normal 9-5 work week finds him off acting every bit the legal aid. Also, at any given time, it is likely one of them is asleep dreaming, either Ariadne working on building more intricacies for each level, Arthur dreaming just so Yusuf can push him over or Dom doing… whatever it is Dom keeps on doing in that corner.
Right now, Saito lies asleep in a lawn chair behind Yusuf. He asked for the chance to dream alone and Yusuf gave it to him. After all, Saito pays the bills. It also gives Yusuf an opportunity to test out his newest blend of the sedative.
“I think it’s going to snow.”
Yusuf looks up at Ariadne sitting at the table to his left. She has her chin on her palm, staring at her model of the third layer. Yusuf glances at Saito, still and quiet, then tips down his glasses.
“Layer three, Are you sure?”
Ariadne nods. “The hospital is a fortress; the feeling should be something like fear, the unknown. Heat could tip back into anger and we want Fischer to move from the cold of fear into the gentle warmth of acceptance and love when he goes into the secure room.”
Yusuf purses his lips. “Physical feeling adding to frame of mind?”
Ariadne nods. “Plus, Eames is dreaming this level and he tends toward warmth over all so…”
“Overcompensate with cold.”
Ariadne and Yusuf smile at each other. Yusuf taps his pen on the table and points at Ariadne.
“Glad I won’t be down there.”
Ariadne laughs. “Yeah, me too.”
Suddenly, Arthur stands up from the table to the right of Yusuf’s. Ariadne and Yusuf both start in surprise. They’d nearly forgotten the point man was even there he’d been so still and quiet.
Arthur carefully rolls down the sleeves of his dark brown shirt and buttons the cuffs. He checks his tan waist coat, brushing down nonexistent wrinkles. Then he picks up his matching coat, threads his arms through, and buttons two of the three buttons. He turns around to face Yusuf and Ariadne.
“Is my tie all right?”
They both stare at him for a moment just blinking. Arthur holds out his arms and points at the tie with both hands.
Yusuf clears his throat. “Um… perfect.”
Ariadne nods as well and gives Arthur a confused look.
Arthur nods back then picks up a black case resting next to his chair. He strides past them to the far side of the loft near the door. Ariadne and Yusuf crane their necks around some metal shelves and a table full of Yusuf’s bottles to watch what Arthur is up to. Arthur sets the case down on an empty table and opens it. They can’t see what he is doing for a few minutes then he steps to the side and they see he has set up an old turn table.
Ariadne peers out of the corner of her eye at Yusuf. “Is he going to play a record? Do people still have records?”
“Apparently so.”
Ariadne’s eyes shift back onto Arthur. “And Arthur likes music?”
Arthur pulls a black record out of a sleeve they cannot read at their distance and places it on the turn table. He drops down the needle and old, 1950s style band music begins to play. Across from Ariadne and Yusuf, Dom and Eames look up from what they are doing at the sound in surprise. Dom smiles for the briefest of moments and drops his head back down to the mess of papers and folders spread out on the desk in front of him. Eames, however, keeps watching Arthur because Arthur is watching him.
Ariadne glances at Yusuf and mouths, ‘Um, what?’
“Frank Sinatra,” he replies and turns back to his test tubes.
Ariadne rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
I’ve got you under my skin; I’ve got you deep in the heart of me…
Arthur puts the empty record sleeve down on the table and walks determinedly across the room over to Eames. He stops at the edge of the board Eames stands in front of then holds out his hand.
“Care for a dance, Mr. Eames?”
Eames looks at Arthur’s out stretched hand then back up again. He shifts his weight away from Arthur and tilts his head to the side.
“I thought you were angry with me.”
“I was.” Arthur shifts his weight forward more toward Eames. “Now I want you to dance with me.”
Eames smiles slowly and tacks the photo in his hand back onto the board. “Quite a reversal.”
“Are you surprised?”
Then Eames takes Arthur’s hand. Arthur grins and it’s a smile Ariadne has never seen on his face before.
Arthur walks backward, pulling Eames along, into an open space of the loft away from everyone’s desks and PASIV devices and models, just an open bit of floor with some empty tables and boxes near the walls.
I said to myself this affair never will go so well…
Eames laughs quietly, presumably at the words to the song if Ariadne guesses correctly. Then Arthur wraps an arm around Eames’ waist, Eames puts a hand on Arthur’s arm and their fingers entwine.
Arthur clicks to life and leads them off. Arthur dances Eames slowly back, the two stepping together like they’ve done this many times before, hips matching move for move. Arthur turns them right and they sway in time with the music, slow and perfect. It’s like someone pulled the two of them straight from a black and white movie.
I’d sacrifice anything come what might for the sake of having you near…
Ariadne sees Arthur mouth along with the music and Eames shakes his head at Arthur with a grin but doesn’t say anything. Arthur pulls Eames toward him, dancing backward then twirling them around again, dipping Eames slightly with the swirl of the music. Ariadne reaches into her pocket and pulls out her pawn. She stares at the pawn, back at Arthur and Eames, then the pawn again.
“No way…”
She glances at Yusuf who is concentrating on a paper lying on the table. Ariadne puffs air out of her nose then stand ups and walks over to Dom.
Ariadne taps the table in front of Dom. “What's with them?”
“Hmm?” Dom looks up to where Ariadne gestures at Eames and Arthur now rocking from left to right, eyes locked.
... wake up to reality, but each time that I do just the thought of you…
“Oh.” Dom waves a hand in dismissal and looks back down at the folder in his hand. “They've been dancing around that for two years. It’s a relief they're finally coming together.” He looks up. “Or finishing off, who knows.”
“So, they have history.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Ariadne stares at Dom for minute then looks back at the two men dancing. Eames turns Arthur this time, leaning him back then pulling him in which Arthur then does right back as their feet slide elegantly over the floor.
Ariadne props herself up on the edge of Dom’s desk and crosses her legs.
“So all of their games, all that tipping and ‘much appreciated, Arthur,’ that is actually flirting?”
Dom looks up like Ariadne is one of his kids. “Yeah. Are you surprised?”
“No,” Ariadne sighs and shakes her head. “It’s just really…” Ariadne waves her hands. Dom just stares at her and she sighs. “Elementary school.”
Dom shrugs. “Sometimes the childish makes it easier to hide something more.” Dom looks back down. “Something deeper.”
“Is that how you flirt?”
Dom quirks an eyebrow. “I’m not flirting with Arthur.”
“Or Eames.”
“Usually.”
Ariadne snorts and looks back to the dancers. The band is on its own now, louder and livelier. Arthur and Eames slip apart to arm’s length, hands still together, and Arthur spins Eames right back into his arms. The sway chest to back then Eames turns in Arthur’s arms as Arthur twists them to the left. It’s amazing. They dance as though they’d been doing it every day for years. Then again, with what Dom said, perhaps that was just what they had been doing. Ariadne crosses her arms and watches their feet step together and the space between them disappear. Where Arthur turns Eames perfectly follows, left and right, forward and back. When Arthur dips Eames down their bodies stay aligned like simple clockwork on Sinatra time.
“I would sacrifice anything come what might,” Arthur sings with the music, “for the sake of having you near.”
“Oh no,” Eames says over Arthur’s singing, a smile in his voice.
“In spite of a warning voice - ”
“Oh, much needed warning.”
Then Arthur kisses Eames as he turns them and Eames shuts up. Arthur dips Eames back again and breaks the kiss as he pulls them up. It is all romance.
Ariadne shakes her head with a smile and decides to stop being a voyeur. She gives Dom one last glance, she needs to keep an eye on him, then walks back over to her model. Ariadne sits down in her chair and picks up her pen. Right now her fortress has two towers interconnected within by five levels of twisting passages and dead ends. She was going to put the room with Fischer’s father in the middle but that seems predictable.
Across the room the record finishes and the loft returns to silence. Ariadne does not look up to see it but now, even though the music is gone, Arthur and Eames still sway together in silent, perfect rhythm. Eames rests his forehead against Arthur’s and one might say a bridge has been crossed.
After a few minutes of silence, Yusuf dropping a vial and cursing under his breath as it rolls under the table, Eames appears and sits sideways on the edge of Ariadne’s table.
Ariadne looks up from under her eyelashes. “Have a nice dance?”
“Why yes, thank you.”
“He didn’t step on your feet?”
Eames laughs once. “Arthur is a fine dancer, have no fear, Ariadne.”
“Oh, I noticed.”
“Talking about me already?” Arthur sits down on the other edge of Ariadne’s table next to her with his back to Eames.
“Of course.” Ariadne rips a flight of stairs off of her model. “Just about you and your wooing.”
Arthur and Eames glance over their shoulders at each other.
“Oh!” Arthur and Eames snap back to attention at Ariadne’s noise. She points at Eames. “It’s going to be snowy down on the third.”
Eames scoffs and makes a disgusted face. “What? Did you come up with that just to annoy me?” He bends toward her slightly. “Because it does.”
Ariadne leans back in her chair and rolls her eyes. “Yes, Eames, that is the sole purpose. In fact, I shouldn’t tell you this, but this inception thing is all a ploy. You’re the real mark.”
“And just what is your goal then?”
Ariadne shakes her head. “Can’t tell you that.”
“Well, poor me.”
Arthur laughs suddenly, his hand slipping over Eames’ and Ariadne blinks. She realizes she has never heard Arthur laugh before. He really should do it more.
“Watch out, Eames,” Arthur says, “I’m sure Ariadne could plan worse for you than a little snow.”
Eames huffs but can’t seem to stop smiling. They stare at each other for a moment where they sit then Arthur jerks his head back at the boards. Eames purses his lips but stands up, Arthur following a second later. Ariadne watches them walk away from her desk, hands brushing, until they split apart toward their separate work spaces. When Ariadne looks back down at her model she is smiling.
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, Yusuf, Dom (mentions Saito but he's sleeping!)
Word Count: 2,005
Rating: PG
Summary: Arthur puts the empty record sleeve down on the table and walks determinedly across the room over to Eames. He stops at the edge of the board Eames stands in front of then holds out his hand. “Care for a dance, Mr. Eames?”
[Ariadne's POV, but don't worry she's a real person and not cardboard.]
Author notes: Holy shit! I wrote something for Inception which is actaully short!? It's anarchy! I wouldn't go so far as to say this is in the same universe as my Trio series... except that in my brain it totally is. But really, its a stand alone, have no fear. I just like romantic dancing.
And to get you in the right mood: I've Got You Under My Skin
Saturday, early afternoon in the Paris loft, finds every member of the inception team hard at work. During the job it’s been a bit of rarity for all of them to be present at the same time unless someone calls a specific meeting. Often Saito is out obtaining funds or apparently buying airlines. Eames has a ‘job’ with Fisher and Morrow which often means the normal 9-5 work week finds him off acting every bit the legal aid. Also, at any given time, it is likely one of them is asleep dreaming, either Ariadne working on building more intricacies for each level, Arthur dreaming just so Yusuf can push him over or Dom doing… whatever it is Dom keeps on doing in that corner.
Right now, Saito lies asleep in a lawn chair behind Yusuf. He asked for the chance to dream alone and Yusuf gave it to him. After all, Saito pays the bills. It also gives Yusuf an opportunity to test out his newest blend of the sedative.
“I think it’s going to snow.”
Yusuf looks up at Ariadne sitting at the table to his left. She has her chin on her palm, staring at her model of the third layer. Yusuf glances at Saito, still and quiet, then tips down his glasses.
“Layer three, Are you sure?”
Ariadne nods. “The hospital is a fortress; the feeling should be something like fear, the unknown. Heat could tip back into anger and we want Fischer to move from the cold of fear into the gentle warmth of acceptance and love when he goes into the secure room.”
Yusuf purses his lips. “Physical feeling adding to frame of mind?”
Ariadne nods. “Plus, Eames is dreaming this level and he tends toward warmth over all so…”
“Overcompensate with cold.”
Ariadne and Yusuf smile at each other. Yusuf taps his pen on the table and points at Ariadne.
“Glad I won’t be down there.”
Ariadne laughs. “Yeah, me too.”
Suddenly, Arthur stands up from the table to the right of Yusuf’s. Ariadne and Yusuf both start in surprise. They’d nearly forgotten the point man was even there he’d been so still and quiet.
Arthur carefully rolls down the sleeves of his dark brown shirt and buttons the cuffs. He checks his tan waist coat, brushing down nonexistent wrinkles. Then he picks up his matching coat, threads his arms through, and buttons two of the three buttons. He turns around to face Yusuf and Ariadne.
“Is my tie all right?”
They both stare at him for a moment just blinking. Arthur holds out his arms and points at the tie with both hands.
Yusuf clears his throat. “Um… perfect.”
Ariadne nods as well and gives Arthur a confused look.
Arthur nods back then picks up a black case resting next to his chair. He strides past them to the far side of the loft near the door. Ariadne and Yusuf crane their necks around some metal shelves and a table full of Yusuf’s bottles to watch what Arthur is up to. Arthur sets the case down on an empty table and opens it. They can’t see what he is doing for a few minutes then he steps to the side and they see he has set up an old turn table.
Ariadne peers out of the corner of her eye at Yusuf. “Is he going to play a record? Do people still have records?”
“Apparently so.”
Ariadne’s eyes shift back onto Arthur. “And Arthur likes music?”
Arthur pulls a black record out of a sleeve they cannot read at their distance and places it on the turn table. He drops down the needle and old, 1950s style band music begins to play. Across from Ariadne and Yusuf, Dom and Eames look up from what they are doing at the sound in surprise. Dom smiles for the briefest of moments and drops his head back down to the mess of papers and folders spread out on the desk in front of him. Eames, however, keeps watching Arthur because Arthur is watching him.
Ariadne glances at Yusuf and mouths, ‘Um, what?’
“Frank Sinatra,” he replies and turns back to his test tubes.
Ariadne rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
I’ve got you under my skin; I’ve got you deep in the heart of me…
Arthur puts the empty record sleeve down on the table and walks determinedly across the room over to Eames. He stops at the edge of the board Eames stands in front of then holds out his hand.
“Care for a dance, Mr. Eames?”
Eames looks at Arthur’s out stretched hand then back up again. He shifts his weight away from Arthur and tilts his head to the side.
“I thought you were angry with me.”
“I was.” Arthur shifts his weight forward more toward Eames. “Now I want you to dance with me.”
Eames smiles slowly and tacks the photo in his hand back onto the board. “Quite a reversal.”
“Are you surprised?”
Then Eames takes Arthur’s hand. Arthur grins and it’s a smile Ariadne has never seen on his face before.
Arthur walks backward, pulling Eames along, into an open space of the loft away from everyone’s desks and PASIV devices and models, just an open bit of floor with some empty tables and boxes near the walls.
I said to myself this affair never will go so well…
Eames laughs quietly, presumably at the words to the song if Ariadne guesses correctly. Then Arthur wraps an arm around Eames’ waist, Eames puts a hand on Arthur’s arm and their fingers entwine.
Arthur clicks to life and leads them off. Arthur dances Eames slowly back, the two stepping together like they’ve done this many times before, hips matching move for move. Arthur turns them right and they sway in time with the music, slow and perfect. It’s like someone pulled the two of them straight from a black and white movie.
I’d sacrifice anything come what might for the sake of having you near…
Ariadne sees Arthur mouth along with the music and Eames shakes his head at Arthur with a grin but doesn’t say anything. Arthur pulls Eames toward him, dancing backward then twirling them around again, dipping Eames slightly with the swirl of the music. Ariadne reaches into her pocket and pulls out her pawn. She stares at the pawn, back at Arthur and Eames, then the pawn again.
“No way…”
She glances at Yusuf who is concentrating on a paper lying on the table. Ariadne puffs air out of her nose then stand ups and walks over to Dom.
Ariadne taps the table in front of Dom. “What's with them?”
“Hmm?” Dom looks up to where Ariadne gestures at Eames and Arthur now rocking from left to right, eyes locked.
... wake up to reality, but each time that I do just the thought of you…
“Oh.” Dom waves a hand in dismissal and looks back down at the folder in his hand. “They've been dancing around that for two years. It’s a relief they're finally coming together.” He looks up. “Or finishing off, who knows.”
“So, they have history.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Ariadne stares at Dom for minute then looks back at the two men dancing. Eames turns Arthur this time, leaning him back then pulling him in which Arthur then does right back as their feet slide elegantly over the floor.
Ariadne props herself up on the edge of Dom’s desk and crosses her legs.
“So all of their games, all that tipping and ‘much appreciated, Arthur,’ that is actually flirting?”
Dom looks up like Ariadne is one of his kids. “Yeah. Are you surprised?”
“No,” Ariadne sighs and shakes her head. “It’s just really…” Ariadne waves her hands. Dom just stares at her and she sighs. “Elementary school.”
Dom shrugs. “Sometimes the childish makes it easier to hide something more.” Dom looks back down. “Something deeper.”
“Is that how you flirt?”
Dom quirks an eyebrow. “I’m not flirting with Arthur.”
“Or Eames.”
“Usually.”
Ariadne snorts and looks back to the dancers. The band is on its own now, louder and livelier. Arthur and Eames slip apart to arm’s length, hands still together, and Arthur spins Eames right back into his arms. The sway chest to back then Eames turns in Arthur’s arms as Arthur twists them to the left. It’s amazing. They dance as though they’d been doing it every day for years. Then again, with what Dom said, perhaps that was just what they had been doing. Ariadne crosses her arms and watches their feet step together and the space between them disappear. Where Arthur turns Eames perfectly follows, left and right, forward and back. When Arthur dips Eames down their bodies stay aligned like simple clockwork on Sinatra time.
“I would sacrifice anything come what might,” Arthur sings with the music, “for the sake of having you near.”
“Oh no,” Eames says over Arthur’s singing, a smile in his voice.
“In spite of a warning voice - ”
“Oh, much needed warning.”
Then Arthur kisses Eames as he turns them and Eames shuts up. Arthur dips Eames back again and breaks the kiss as he pulls them up. It is all romance.
Ariadne shakes her head with a smile and decides to stop being a voyeur. She gives Dom one last glance, she needs to keep an eye on him, then walks back over to her model. Ariadne sits down in her chair and picks up her pen. Right now her fortress has two towers interconnected within by five levels of twisting passages and dead ends. She was going to put the room with Fischer’s father in the middle but that seems predictable.
Across the room the record finishes and the loft returns to silence. Ariadne does not look up to see it but now, even though the music is gone, Arthur and Eames still sway together in silent, perfect rhythm. Eames rests his forehead against Arthur’s and one might say a bridge has been crossed.
After a few minutes of silence, Yusuf dropping a vial and cursing under his breath as it rolls under the table, Eames appears and sits sideways on the edge of Ariadne’s table.
Ariadne looks up from under her eyelashes. “Have a nice dance?”
“Why yes, thank you.”
“He didn’t step on your feet?”
Eames laughs once. “Arthur is a fine dancer, have no fear, Ariadne.”
“Oh, I noticed.”
“Talking about me already?” Arthur sits down on the other edge of Ariadne’s table next to her with his back to Eames.
“Of course.” Ariadne rips a flight of stairs off of her model. “Just about you and your wooing.”
Arthur and Eames glance over their shoulders at each other.
“Oh!” Arthur and Eames snap back to attention at Ariadne’s noise. She points at Eames. “It’s going to be snowy down on the third.”
Eames scoffs and makes a disgusted face. “What? Did you come up with that just to annoy me?” He bends toward her slightly. “Because it does.”
Ariadne leans back in her chair and rolls her eyes. “Yes, Eames, that is the sole purpose. In fact, I shouldn’t tell you this, but this inception thing is all a ploy. You’re the real mark.”
“And just what is your goal then?”
Ariadne shakes her head. “Can’t tell you that.”
“Well, poor me.”
Arthur laughs suddenly, his hand slipping over Eames’ and Ariadne blinks. She realizes she has never heard Arthur laugh before. He really should do it more.
“Watch out, Eames,” Arthur says, “I’m sure Ariadne could plan worse for you than a little snow.”
Eames huffs but can’t seem to stop smiling. They stare at each other for a moment where they sit then Arthur jerks his head back at the boards. Eames purses his lips but stands up, Arthur following a second later. Ariadne watches them walk away from her desk, hands brushing, until they split apart toward their separate work spaces. When Ariadne looks back down at her model she is smiling.