Inception/Mysterious Skin - Every Me and Every You (8/30)
Title: Every Me and Every You (8/30)
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Inception/Mysterious Skin fusion
Word count: 2,921
Pairing: Neil/Eames
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, allusions to rape,child molestation, and prostitution
Summary: Neil McCormick is fraying at the seams. Then he meets Eames, professional dreamer.
Wendy took a few seconds to look at Eames before saying anything. Neil could tell she was sizing him up, trying to understand just what he was doing in their apartment feeling up her roommate when he wasn't anything like the boys Neil tended to fancy. Neil knew that Wendy wasn't stupid enough to think they were doing anything else even if they had shoved off of each other as soon as she came in, and he knew that she wasn't stupid enough to not make the connection that he must be the man Neil had told her about before. He just knew Wendy that well, but he appreciated that she seemed to play along anyway.
"Who's this?" she asked, pointing to Eames.
Eames, awkward, held out his hand. "Ah, hi, I'm Eames," he said and shook her hand. Wendy looked at their connected hands and then up at Eames's eyes, studying him a little.
"Wendy," she replied a bit tartly. She was suspicious of him regardless of who he was. It was a trait she'd picked up living in NYC and one she had constantly told Neil to learn to no avail. "Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Eames?"
"-Ah," Eames started to say.
"Or should I just take a walk so you can keep humping my roommate?" she interrupted, adopting the shit-eating smile on her face that she usually got when she was knocking someone off guard and enjoying it.
"Um," Eames said.
Wendy let go of his hand and turned to Neil, raising her eyebrows, waiting for an explanation. Neil honestly wasn't entirely sure what to say. Hey, this is the guy who taught me to go into people's dreams and steal things but also we're kind of in this weird place where we're kind of into each other even though he's not my type didn't exactly sound like something he would say. Besides, he couldn't let Eames know he'd told Wendy about the dreaming thing, and it wasn't like she would believe he was his boyfriend.
"Maybe… maybe I should just go," Eames said when the silence had dragged on a bit longer than he was comfortable with.
Neil knew that, with Eames gone, he could come up with something to tell Wendy, but oddly enough he didn't want him to leave.
"Ah," Eames said as he moved towards the door, picking up his coat and scarf where he'd left it and grabbing the gloves out of the pocket, "perhaps tomorrow we can reconvene about… about all this stuff, Neil. Sounds good, yeah?"
"Uh… yeah, whatever," Neil said softly.
"If you're coming back here, bring a gift next time, Mr. Eames," Wendy called out after him, eyes dancing with delight.
Eames looked back at her, seeming to have recovered because he was offering his typical charming, crooked-toothed grin, and said, "but of course, my dear Wendy. Do you prefer flowers or chocolates or beautiful expensive things?"
"Do you have to ask?" she asked and Eames chuckled, shutting the door behind him. Neil stared at the door even after he was gone from it.
Then, Wendy did something unexpected. "Oh, my God, you like him!" she said, laughter in her voice. "I don't even believe it!"
"What? What're you talking about?" Neil asked, looking at her like she was insane.
"That's the guy, right? The dreams guy."
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with-"
"Don't be a fucking idiot, Neil. I saw you two."
"I make out with guys all the time," Neil said, and that wasn't really true, but it was close enough to the truth to feel true.
"I'm not talking about the shit you were doing against the wall even though ew-seriously, don't do it in my living room just because I'm not here, Neil, come on. I'm talking about that look."
"What look?"
"The look! On your face! Right now!" she said, pointing to his nose. "That one!"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"It's that same goofy, doe-eyed look that Eric used to give you. I know that look, okay?"
Neil's eyes widened in horror. "I am not giving off some goofy, doe-eyed look, Wendy. Who do you think I am?"
"I know who you are, and I know that to say that Neil McCormick cares about anyone but himself is ludicrous, but I know that look, Neil. I've seen that look a million times… and even if you didn't have that look, I would know that something was going on here because c'mon, Neil, when's the last time you ever brought someone home? Someone your age I might add? The answer is never, by the way, in case you didn't know."
Neil sighed, leveling her with a glare, but she didn't look at all interested in backing down from how she felt about the situation. Her expression did lose some of its humor and astonishment though. "Neil," she continued, brushing a stray strand of hair off of his ear, "it's not a bad thing, you know. To like someone… an actual romantic relationship might be good for you, Neil… maybe… Maybe it's time to move on from how you used to behave. Maybe this Mr. Eames guy is giving you a fresh start in more than one way."
Something in Neil's chest squeezed in a weird, somewhat unpleasant way, and it must have shown on his face, because Wendy put an arm around him in a loose hug. "I know… it's hard, yeah, and probably kind of scary, but you'll be okay. You know I'm here for you if you need anything, right?"
Neil lowered his face into her hair, closed his eyes, and breathed.
When Neil woke up, it was still early, and Wendy was draped over him, snoring softly. He kissed the top of her head before detangling himself from her and sauntered into the bathroom. After doing his business and splashing water on his face, he looked up and stared at his reflection.
A fresh start, he thought, then patted his face dry. Stupid.
Neil wasn't sure where Wendy was getting these ideas. He couldn't possibly have looked quite as pathetic as Eric had back when they lived in Hutchinson together, could he? Besides, a romantic relationship? Neil had never been capable of one of those in his entire life, except for maybe Coach…
…but Neil had been doing some thinking about that these days, and he wasn't entirely sure if it counted anymore…
This wasn't about him though, so Neil dismissed it before he got that nauseous feeling again. He threw on his coat and hurried out the door, heading down to the corner store to get a pack of cigarettes.
Like Eames? Sure, he liked Eames well enough. He was a nice guy, and he had a kickass job. He was good looking and a fucking great kisser, and it was also oddly refreshing to have a man to talk to who wasn't just interested in fucking (even if most of the time that was all Neil had been interested in). Still, the idea of being with Eames in that sense made Neil's stomach feel queasy and made that slight tickle of panic appear in his chest and throat. It just wasn't something that Neil McCormick did.
He bought his cigarettes and started back towards home, lighting one up as soon as he got back onto the street. The burn in his lungs felt good and made him feel a little more awake, which was great because he didn't jump back in shock when he arrived at the stoop to find Eames climbing the stairs to the front door.
"Oh," Eames said when he turned to find Neil standing there. "Well, there you are then, hm. I didn't actually expect you to be up and about."
Neil shrugged, wondering why his chest felt tight for a moment. "Here I am," he said and blew smoke rings at Eames.
"Well, I suppose I only came by to talk to you about last night," Eames said bluntly, and Neil leaned against the doorway to listen. "Ah… I guess I should apologize for sort of… jumping you like that."
Neil felt the urge to tell Eames that apparently he had no idea what it meant to jump someone, but he refrained.
"What I'm trying to say is… I mean, I just wanted you to know that I'm not trying to imply that I only want you around for your body, yeah? I really did mean the things I said about your talent… and I wanted you to know that you're wrong… that you are good for more than fucking… um…" Eames looked at his feet, awkward and blushing, and Neil was a bit bowled over because no one had ever acted or said anything like that to him before.
…but if Eames didn't just want sex from Neil, then what did he want?
"It's… it's fine," Neil said. "I mean… y'know. Don't worry about it."
Eames offered a sheepish grin. "Yes. Right. Thanks. I mean, my job doesn't really lend to relationships too well, so it's… it's been some time for me, and I like you quite a lot, Neil. I think you're…"
"Sexy?" Neil asked, raising his eyebrows, and honestly that was the answer he expected.
"Smart," Eames replied instead, surprising Neil. He then added, "You're funny, and you're cunning, and you're interesting. Yes, you are sexy, I suppose, but I have absolutely no need for sexy people if they haven't got anything else to show for it. I know it seems a little hard to believe, but I'm really not a one-night-stand kind of guy when I can help it, so…"
Neil looked at his feet, that tight feeling in his chest growing even tighter. "You keep talking about me like you know me so well," Neil mumbled. "We only met like… a few days ago or some shit. You don't even know my last name."
"What is it then?" Eames asked, venturing to take a step closer there in the doorway. "Your last name?"
"McCormick," he said, watching Eames, feeling eerily vulnerable. "Neil McCormick… but that doesn't change the fact that you don't know shit about me."
"Well, I know you're young and handsome and smart. I know you've got a talent for dreaming, that your eyes are blue. I know your address and your roommate Wendy, who I assume must be from the same place you're originally from given the accent. I know you used to be a prostitute, and I know that something inside of you is hurt and broken, and I know that you are so, so, so much more than you think you are… How am I doing so far?"
Neil realized Eames had crowded in on him again, both of them breathing the same air once more as the man had listed off the things he already knew about Neil.
"It's a good start," Neil offered weakly.
"Ah, see, and that's the best thing about meeting someone you like. It's that you get to know them."
"I don't feel like I know anything about you at all," Neil said softly.
"As a forger I'm good at reading people and hiding any tells I might have from others. I apologize," Eames said. "Do you want to go get some breakfast? My team is rendezvousing in a little over an hour back at my hotel room, but we could grab a quick bite if you're interested."
Neil didn't know what else to say besides, "Okay."
Eames dragged Neil to a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop a few streets over and settled at a table in the corner away from the rest of the patrons. Neil munched on a couple of donuts and sipped coffee while Eames spread cream cheese onto a half of a bagel.
"Now… that whole spiel on the stoop this morning wasn't the only reason why I came back," Eames said at length, pausing to dig in his coat. "I thought it also might be pertinent to bring you this."
He handed Neil a manual, and Neil studied the cover for a moment. "The PASIV device manual?" he questioned.
"Yes, well, you need to at least seem like you know everything there is to know about it."
"What for?" Neil asked, flipping through the pages.
"Well, after I gave my team that information you fetched for me, we ended up firing our current pointman, so I thought, since it's a last minute sort of thing, that we'd hire you on to fill the slot."
Neil nearly dropped the manual, looking up at Eames in shock. "Are you fucking serious right now? Please, please tell me you're not pulling my leg."
"I'm serious," Eames replied, grinning. "I told you that I wanted to give you a chance, and I'm not going to backtrack on that this time. Besides, this current job won't actually require you to go under, so any issues your subconscious might have don't matter right now. What you'll need to do is-"
Neil did manage not to whoop with joy, but he still tugged Eames across the table and gave him a quick kiss, nearly bouncing out of his seat as he did so. "Holy shit, Eames!" he said, and he was positively beaming.
Eames laughed a little breathlessly, having been caught off guard by the kiss. "You're welcome, but now listen, all right? For this job, you're quite possibly the most important element even though you won't be under with us. You'll be up on the surface, keeping watch and being ready with the kick music when the timer on the PASIV hits a certain number of minutes. You're also to administer the kick should something go awry, understand?"
Neil nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Sure, yeah, but what's a kick?"
Eames slipped his foot underneath the lifted leg of Neil's chair and gave it a gentle push, nearly sending him careening backwards. "That feeling of falling that awakens you is what we refer to as the kick," Eames said, smiling. "You can just tip our chairs back to wake us up because the sedative on this dream is fairly light."
"Okay," Neil said. "So, I just stand around and watch you guys sleep then?"
"Pretty much, and stand guard. You know how to shoot a gun, right?"
He didn't, had never touched one, but he still said, "Of course I do." It couldn't be that hard to do after all.
"Brilliant, then I think you're all set," Eames said. "I'll need you to really read this manual though. I want you to know the PASIV in and out, backwards and forwards."
"No problem," Neil replied.
"Oh," Eames added, leaning forward on the table, "there's one more thing that you'll need for this job, and I'll need it fairly quickly so that I can get your paperwork in order."
"Paperwork?" Neil asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yes, records, passports, etcetra. What I'm going to need from you is a codename that people can refer to you with. Nothing stupid, just a normal name that doesn't look suspicious. It not only keeps things off your actual record, but it protects your loved ones should you be captured or should someone actually seek you out to capture or harm you."
Neil paused, trying to think of a name as he continued eating his breakfast. He wanted something different and cool to be his codename, but he couldn't think of anything that suited him.
"If I may venture out and give you a couple of ideas maybe?" Eames offered, and Neil nodded since suggestions could only help at this point. "You shouldn't use a name of someone you know, so friends and relatives are out, and it shouldn't sound terribly similar to your actual name… mm…" He paused to study Neil's face, and Neil fought the urge to squirm in his seat a little under his gaze. "Now, ah… do you like science fiction novels?"
A mental picture of Brian flashed through Neil's brain. "Not really."
"Well, there's the author-you've probably heard of him, the bloke who wrote the original novel 2001: A Space Odyssey, yeah? He was allegedly a homosexual and a bit self-absorbed, but a lovely bloke… at least that's what I read. That sort of reminds me of you a bit, so what do you think about the name Arthur?"
Neil actually thought it was sort of a geeky, stupid name, or at least he would have if anyone else had said it. The way it rolled off of Eames's tongue though just made it sound incredibly cool.
"There's also that whole stigma about the brave King Arthur in the old medieval stories too," Eames added. "I really think it could suit you well."
Neil nodded, leaning his chin onto his palm. "I like it," he decided.
"Brilliant then," Eames said. "Arthur it is."
Neil smiled and took another gulp of his coffee.
"Oh," Eames added, digging in his pocket until he found some folded up bills, "and buy yourself a nice suit, tailored if possible. Presentation is key, after all."
"Thanks," Neil said, accepting the money, trying not to let his eyes bug out at the sheer amount of it.
"I shall retrieve you in a few days and introduce you to the team then," Eames said, grinning, "Arthur."
All Neil could hear was Wendy's words echoing in his ears.
A fresh start.
Author: osaki_nana_707
Fandom: Inception/Mysterious Skin fusion
Word count: 2,921
Pairing: Neil/Eames
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, allusions to rape,child molestation, and prostitution
Summary: Neil McCormick is fraying at the seams. Then he meets Eames, professional dreamer.
Wendy took a few seconds to look at Eames before saying anything. Neil could tell she was sizing him up, trying to understand just what he was doing in their apartment feeling up her roommate when he wasn't anything like the boys Neil tended to fancy. Neil knew that Wendy wasn't stupid enough to think they were doing anything else even if they had shoved off of each other as soon as she came in, and he knew that she wasn't stupid enough to not make the connection that he must be the man Neil had told her about before. He just knew Wendy that well, but he appreciated that she seemed to play along anyway.
"Who's this?" she asked, pointing to Eames.
Eames, awkward, held out his hand. "Ah, hi, I'm Eames," he said and shook her hand. Wendy looked at their connected hands and then up at Eames's eyes, studying him a little.
"Wendy," she replied a bit tartly. She was suspicious of him regardless of who he was. It was a trait she'd picked up living in NYC and one she had constantly told Neil to learn to no avail. "Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Eames?"
"-Ah," Eames started to say.
"Or should I just take a walk so you can keep humping my roommate?" she interrupted, adopting the shit-eating smile on her face that she usually got when she was knocking someone off guard and enjoying it.
"Um," Eames said.
Wendy let go of his hand and turned to Neil, raising her eyebrows, waiting for an explanation. Neil honestly wasn't entirely sure what to say. Hey, this is the guy who taught me to go into people's dreams and steal things but also we're kind of in this weird place where we're kind of into each other even though he's not my type didn't exactly sound like something he would say. Besides, he couldn't let Eames know he'd told Wendy about the dreaming thing, and it wasn't like she would believe he was his boyfriend.
"Maybe… maybe I should just go," Eames said when the silence had dragged on a bit longer than he was comfortable with.
Neil knew that, with Eames gone, he could come up with something to tell Wendy, but oddly enough he didn't want him to leave.
"Ah," Eames said as he moved towards the door, picking up his coat and scarf where he'd left it and grabbing the gloves out of the pocket, "perhaps tomorrow we can reconvene about… about all this stuff, Neil. Sounds good, yeah?"
"Uh… yeah, whatever," Neil said softly.
"If you're coming back here, bring a gift next time, Mr. Eames," Wendy called out after him, eyes dancing with delight.
Eames looked back at her, seeming to have recovered because he was offering his typical charming, crooked-toothed grin, and said, "but of course, my dear Wendy. Do you prefer flowers or chocolates or beautiful expensive things?"
"Do you have to ask?" she asked and Eames chuckled, shutting the door behind him. Neil stared at the door even after he was gone from it.
Then, Wendy did something unexpected. "Oh, my God, you like him!" she said, laughter in her voice. "I don't even believe it!"
"What? What're you talking about?" Neil asked, looking at her like she was insane.
"That's the guy, right? The dreams guy."
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with-"
"Don't be a fucking idiot, Neil. I saw you two."
"I make out with guys all the time," Neil said, and that wasn't really true, but it was close enough to the truth to feel true.
"I'm not talking about the shit you were doing against the wall even though ew-seriously, don't do it in my living room just because I'm not here, Neil, come on. I'm talking about that look."
"What look?"
"The look! On your face! Right now!" she said, pointing to his nose. "That one!"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"It's that same goofy, doe-eyed look that Eric used to give you. I know that look, okay?"
Neil's eyes widened in horror. "I am not giving off some goofy, doe-eyed look, Wendy. Who do you think I am?"
"I know who you are, and I know that to say that Neil McCormick cares about anyone but himself is ludicrous, but I know that look, Neil. I've seen that look a million times… and even if you didn't have that look, I would know that something was going on here because c'mon, Neil, when's the last time you ever brought someone home? Someone your age I might add? The answer is never, by the way, in case you didn't know."
Neil sighed, leveling her with a glare, but she didn't look at all interested in backing down from how she felt about the situation. Her expression did lose some of its humor and astonishment though. "Neil," she continued, brushing a stray strand of hair off of his ear, "it's not a bad thing, you know. To like someone… an actual romantic relationship might be good for you, Neil… maybe… Maybe it's time to move on from how you used to behave. Maybe this Mr. Eames guy is giving you a fresh start in more than one way."
Something in Neil's chest squeezed in a weird, somewhat unpleasant way, and it must have shown on his face, because Wendy put an arm around him in a loose hug. "I know… it's hard, yeah, and probably kind of scary, but you'll be okay. You know I'm here for you if you need anything, right?"
Neil lowered his face into her hair, closed his eyes, and breathed.
When Neil woke up, it was still early, and Wendy was draped over him, snoring softly. He kissed the top of her head before detangling himself from her and sauntered into the bathroom. After doing his business and splashing water on his face, he looked up and stared at his reflection.
A fresh start, he thought, then patted his face dry. Stupid.
Neil wasn't sure where Wendy was getting these ideas. He couldn't possibly have looked quite as pathetic as Eric had back when they lived in Hutchinson together, could he? Besides, a romantic relationship? Neil had never been capable of one of those in his entire life, except for maybe Coach…
…but Neil had been doing some thinking about that these days, and he wasn't entirely sure if it counted anymore…
This wasn't about him though, so Neil dismissed it before he got that nauseous feeling again. He threw on his coat and hurried out the door, heading down to the corner store to get a pack of cigarettes.
Like Eames? Sure, he liked Eames well enough. He was a nice guy, and he had a kickass job. He was good looking and a fucking great kisser, and it was also oddly refreshing to have a man to talk to who wasn't just interested in fucking (even if most of the time that was all Neil had been interested in). Still, the idea of being with Eames in that sense made Neil's stomach feel queasy and made that slight tickle of panic appear in his chest and throat. It just wasn't something that Neil McCormick did.
He bought his cigarettes and started back towards home, lighting one up as soon as he got back onto the street. The burn in his lungs felt good and made him feel a little more awake, which was great because he didn't jump back in shock when he arrived at the stoop to find Eames climbing the stairs to the front door.
"Oh," Eames said when he turned to find Neil standing there. "Well, there you are then, hm. I didn't actually expect you to be up and about."
Neil shrugged, wondering why his chest felt tight for a moment. "Here I am," he said and blew smoke rings at Eames.
"Well, I suppose I only came by to talk to you about last night," Eames said bluntly, and Neil leaned against the doorway to listen. "Ah… I guess I should apologize for sort of… jumping you like that."
Neil felt the urge to tell Eames that apparently he had no idea what it meant to jump someone, but he refrained.
"What I'm trying to say is… I mean, I just wanted you to know that I'm not trying to imply that I only want you around for your body, yeah? I really did mean the things I said about your talent… and I wanted you to know that you're wrong… that you are good for more than fucking… um…" Eames looked at his feet, awkward and blushing, and Neil was a bit bowled over because no one had ever acted or said anything like that to him before.
…but if Eames didn't just want sex from Neil, then what did he want?
"It's… it's fine," Neil said. "I mean… y'know. Don't worry about it."
Eames offered a sheepish grin. "Yes. Right. Thanks. I mean, my job doesn't really lend to relationships too well, so it's… it's been some time for me, and I like you quite a lot, Neil. I think you're…"
"Sexy?" Neil asked, raising his eyebrows, and honestly that was the answer he expected.
"Smart," Eames replied instead, surprising Neil. He then added, "You're funny, and you're cunning, and you're interesting. Yes, you are sexy, I suppose, but I have absolutely no need for sexy people if they haven't got anything else to show for it. I know it seems a little hard to believe, but I'm really not a one-night-stand kind of guy when I can help it, so…"
Neil looked at his feet, that tight feeling in his chest growing even tighter. "You keep talking about me like you know me so well," Neil mumbled. "We only met like… a few days ago or some shit. You don't even know my last name."
"What is it then?" Eames asked, venturing to take a step closer there in the doorway. "Your last name?"
"McCormick," he said, watching Eames, feeling eerily vulnerable. "Neil McCormick… but that doesn't change the fact that you don't know shit about me."
"Well, I know you're young and handsome and smart. I know you've got a talent for dreaming, that your eyes are blue. I know your address and your roommate Wendy, who I assume must be from the same place you're originally from given the accent. I know you used to be a prostitute, and I know that something inside of you is hurt and broken, and I know that you are so, so, so much more than you think you are… How am I doing so far?"
Neil realized Eames had crowded in on him again, both of them breathing the same air once more as the man had listed off the things he already knew about Neil.
"It's a good start," Neil offered weakly.
"Ah, see, and that's the best thing about meeting someone you like. It's that you get to know them."
"I don't feel like I know anything about you at all," Neil said softly.
"As a forger I'm good at reading people and hiding any tells I might have from others. I apologize," Eames said. "Do you want to go get some breakfast? My team is rendezvousing in a little over an hour back at my hotel room, but we could grab a quick bite if you're interested."
Neil didn't know what else to say besides, "Okay."
Eames dragged Neil to a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop a few streets over and settled at a table in the corner away from the rest of the patrons. Neil munched on a couple of donuts and sipped coffee while Eames spread cream cheese onto a half of a bagel.
"Now… that whole spiel on the stoop this morning wasn't the only reason why I came back," Eames said at length, pausing to dig in his coat. "I thought it also might be pertinent to bring you this."
He handed Neil a manual, and Neil studied the cover for a moment. "The PASIV device manual?" he questioned.
"Yes, well, you need to at least seem like you know everything there is to know about it."
"What for?" Neil asked, flipping through the pages.
"Well, after I gave my team that information you fetched for me, we ended up firing our current pointman, so I thought, since it's a last minute sort of thing, that we'd hire you on to fill the slot."
Neil nearly dropped the manual, looking up at Eames in shock. "Are you fucking serious right now? Please, please tell me you're not pulling my leg."
"I'm serious," Eames replied, grinning. "I told you that I wanted to give you a chance, and I'm not going to backtrack on that this time. Besides, this current job won't actually require you to go under, so any issues your subconscious might have don't matter right now. What you'll need to do is-"
Neil did manage not to whoop with joy, but he still tugged Eames across the table and gave him a quick kiss, nearly bouncing out of his seat as he did so. "Holy shit, Eames!" he said, and he was positively beaming.
Eames laughed a little breathlessly, having been caught off guard by the kiss. "You're welcome, but now listen, all right? For this job, you're quite possibly the most important element even though you won't be under with us. You'll be up on the surface, keeping watch and being ready with the kick music when the timer on the PASIV hits a certain number of minutes. You're also to administer the kick should something go awry, understand?"
Neil nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Sure, yeah, but what's a kick?"
Eames slipped his foot underneath the lifted leg of Neil's chair and gave it a gentle push, nearly sending him careening backwards. "That feeling of falling that awakens you is what we refer to as the kick," Eames said, smiling. "You can just tip our chairs back to wake us up because the sedative on this dream is fairly light."
"Okay," Neil said. "So, I just stand around and watch you guys sleep then?"
"Pretty much, and stand guard. You know how to shoot a gun, right?"
He didn't, had never touched one, but he still said, "Of course I do." It couldn't be that hard to do after all.
"Brilliant, then I think you're all set," Eames said. "I'll need you to really read this manual though. I want you to know the PASIV in and out, backwards and forwards."
"No problem," Neil replied.
"Oh," Eames added, leaning forward on the table, "there's one more thing that you'll need for this job, and I'll need it fairly quickly so that I can get your paperwork in order."
"Paperwork?" Neil asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Yes, records, passports, etcetra. What I'm going to need from you is a codename that people can refer to you with. Nothing stupid, just a normal name that doesn't look suspicious. It not only keeps things off your actual record, but it protects your loved ones should you be captured or should someone actually seek you out to capture or harm you."
Neil paused, trying to think of a name as he continued eating his breakfast. He wanted something different and cool to be his codename, but he couldn't think of anything that suited him.
"If I may venture out and give you a couple of ideas maybe?" Eames offered, and Neil nodded since suggestions could only help at this point. "You shouldn't use a name of someone you know, so friends and relatives are out, and it shouldn't sound terribly similar to your actual name… mm…" He paused to study Neil's face, and Neil fought the urge to squirm in his seat a little under his gaze. "Now, ah… do you like science fiction novels?"
A mental picture of Brian flashed through Neil's brain. "Not really."
"Well, there's the author-you've probably heard of him, the bloke who wrote the original novel 2001: A Space Odyssey, yeah? He was allegedly a homosexual and a bit self-absorbed, but a lovely bloke… at least that's what I read. That sort of reminds me of you a bit, so what do you think about the name Arthur?"
Neil actually thought it was sort of a geeky, stupid name, or at least he would have if anyone else had said it. The way it rolled off of Eames's tongue though just made it sound incredibly cool.
"There's also that whole stigma about the brave King Arthur in the old medieval stories too," Eames added. "I really think it could suit you well."
Neil nodded, leaning his chin onto his palm. "I like it," he decided.
"Brilliant then," Eames said. "Arthur it is."
Neil smiled and took another gulp of his coffee.
"Oh," Eames added, digging in his pocket until he found some folded up bills, "and buy yourself a nice suit, tailored if possible. Presentation is key, after all."
"Thanks," Neil said, accepting the money, trying not to let his eyes bug out at the sheer amount of it.
"I shall retrieve you in a few days and introduce you to the team then," Eames said, grinning, "Arthur."
All Neil could hear was Wendy's words echoing in his ears.
A fresh start.