La Vie Sous La Pluie - An Eames/Arthur Fanfiction - Part Two
Title: La Vie Sous La Pluie (in English: The Life in the Rain)
Author: ainekatt
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Eames/Arthur
Summary: In which Cobb has another job for the team, and Eames and Arthur are temporarily in Sicily. Part Two of I'm not sure yet.
Warnings: None. I think Arthur curses once. There isn't even really much of any slashiness in this chapter.
X-Posted to: eames_arthur , inceptionfilm
You should probably read Part One first before you read this, because it's Part Two.
---------------
After the infamous Fischer job, it hadn’t taken long before Cobb got restless and reassembled the team to run what was claimed to be just one more mission. That one mission turned into another, and then another. Rumours that Cobb and his motley crew had the ability to plant ideas in a person’s mind so deep they didn’t realize anything had been done to them started circulating in underground circles. Inception was a rare talent. So rare, in fact, that if I client sought it out, his, or her, path would lead them directly to one Dominick Cobb, and his associates, which, of course, meant Arthur was never out of work. Without the added threat of Mal, the team worked even more fluidly than they had before, and had yet to encounter again anyone with the kind of security that Robert Fischer had had. Still, the fact that they now worked almost exclusively deep in the subconscious mind meant that the team had to be careful about what they said to each other in training. What was an offhanded comment in Level One was a dangerous weapon in Limbo. You could never be too aware of your actions when you were working in the darkest areas of the mind of a colleague, or a friend.
“Arthur, you don’t think you could meet me at the old warehouse in about, hm,” Cobb paused, presumably to check on exactly how much time he needed to get to the aforementioned location himself, “let’s say, two hours, and some change?”
“Dom, it’s the middle of the night, and we’re in Siciliy right now. Even if I could get there, which I’m not saying I can, I really don’t think I want to. Can’t whatever this is wait until the morning?” From the tone in his friend’s voice, Arthur had a feeling he already knew what Cobb’s answer was going to be, but he had to ask anyway. He wasn’t going to let himself be taken advantage of quite that much.
Cobb sighed in exaggerated frustration. “You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need you here. I’m just getting off a Red-Eye right now. I’ve been flying since, well time zone’s are tricky and I’m distracted, but it’s been a few hours. The least you can do is get over here.” He paused, considering The Point Man’s previous reply. “And did you say we?”
“Yes, unfortunately, I did. I’m with Eames.”
“Wonderful, bring him with you.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to need a Forger? Jesus, Cobb, what kind of job is this, exactly?”
“I won’t ask what you’re doing on an island off the coast of Italy with a man you claim to dislike if you can get both yourself and him here before you ask any more questions.”
“First of all, it was for a job, a job which, lucky for you, is over as of 10:13 yesterday morning. And don’t argue with me. You know I need work outside of whatever you decide to take on sometimes; so does Eames.” The Point Man sighed and pulled himself out of bed, pressing the phone to his shoulder with his head so as to free his hands and begin dressing and gathering what little luggage he had together. “Second, I’ll see what I can do. It’s a good thing you bothered to actually make friends in this business, Dom, or you’d be finding yourself a few men down of every crew you needed.”
“Excellent. I knew I could count on you, Arthur. Besides, you’re a Point Man. If anyone can find a way to get high-speed airline tickets to London at 3:25 in the morning, it’s you.” Arthur ignored the flattery and continued to lace his shoes.
“I’ll be there,” he muttered, “with Eames. But don’t expect either of us to be particularly excited about it.”
“I only ask for your best, Arthur, you know that.”
“And I always give it, Dom. You know that.”
“That’s why I keep calling you, isn’t it?” Cobb didn’t wait for a response before disconnecting the call. He was confident in his friend’s abilities, and besides, he had some work to do himself before they could do a job like this one.
Arthur, fully dressed, single suitcase, and one silvery metal briefcase, in his hands, appeared in Eames’ doorway at ten minutes to four. Eames, ever perceptive, and apparently already sleeping in his clothes, as if anticipating that they’d get called off before the sun was up, invited the younger man in to sit while he began to gather his things. “We got a job, then?” he asked, pulling open the hotel dresser drawer and dumping a pile of socks onto the crumpled bedcover to be transferred to his suitcase.
Arthur nodded, unzipping his suitcase and retrieving a small laptop computer, flipping it open and setting it on his lap to begin the assuredly brief search for airline tickets at the lowest possible cost, which was likely to be free. There were certain perks to making one’s living as a criminal. One of them just happened to be that no one questioned you if your methods were less than legal.
Eames deposited the last of his suits in his suitcase, smiling to himself at the thought that if Arthur hadn’t been so wrapped up in his laptop, he probably would have attempted to refold them. The Point Man was too damn neat for his own good, although it often turned out to be a valuable attribute in his line of work. “I’m assuming we’re going to meet Cobb somewhere.”
Arthur nodded again. “The warehouse. London. Ah, here we are. Misters Bloom and Syracuse aren’t going to happy that they were bumped from what I’m sure is a very important flight for them, but there you have it. We have tickets. The plane leaves in,” he checked his watch, “ooh, we’re cutting a little close. Seventeen minutes.” He clicked the laptop shut and slid it back into his suitcase.
“I’ve cut closer,” Eames remarked. “Don’t worry, darling. We’ll make it with time to spare, I’m sure.”
“I’m not worried,” Arthur replied. “But we do need to go right now if we want to get to the terminal before they start seating. I doubt security will be much of a problem, considering that lying through things is your specialty, but I don’t want to end up missing the flight just because you decided it was a good time to play zen.”
“Oh alright, alright,” the Forger conceded. “Shall we, then?” he asked, picking up his suitcase as he stood and offering his arm in a teasingly courteous gesture. Arthur ignored the offer, and, taking his own suit and briefcase in hand, answered by way of walking into the hall, away from Eames. “Well alright, darling. Let’s not try to make conversation then. Silence, as they say, is golden. Ridiculous notion, but who am I to argue? You’re the one who just got me a plane ticket free of charge.”
“The whole point of silence is that you don’t talk, Eames,” Arthur interrupted, somewhat exasperated with his companion. “And the seats aren’t together.”
Eames clutched his chest melodramatically. “I’m wounded, Arthur. Deeply, deeply wounded.”
“Pick up your suitcase and come on. We’ve just lost a full minute and a half while you were messing around.”
Eames grinned sardonically behind Arthur’s back as the Point Man walked off brusquely down the hallway. “Yes, mother,” he muttered dryly, pulling the door of his now vacant hotel room shut with a light click.
Somehow, with the combined nature of both of their various skills, and a great deal of luck, not to mention the relative emptiness of the Palermo Airport in the small hours of the morning, both Arthur and Eames were seated more or less comfortably in two seats of a departing Boeing 737 to London by fifteen minutes later. Although Arthur had been correct in his assessment that the two seats were not next to each other, he had failed to calculate that they were, in fact, one in front of the other. Eames, grinning like a drunk jackal, took the seat behind his beleaguered colleague. Oh yes, Arthur thought, sinking as low as he could into his seat, this was going to be a thrilling flight.
-----
But wait, there's more! Click now and we'll throw in a free Part Three at absolutely no extra cost to you!
Author: ainekatt
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Eames/Arthur
Summary: In which Cobb has another job for the team, and Eames and Arthur are temporarily in Sicily. Part Two of I'm not sure yet.
Warnings: None. I think Arthur curses once. There isn't even really much of any slashiness in this chapter.
X-Posted to: eames_arthur , inceptionfilm
You should probably read Part One first before you read this, because it's Part Two.
---------------
After the infamous Fischer job, it hadn’t taken long before Cobb got restless and reassembled the team to run what was claimed to be just one more mission. That one mission turned into another, and then another. Rumours that Cobb and his motley crew had the ability to plant ideas in a person’s mind so deep they didn’t realize anything had been done to them started circulating in underground circles. Inception was a rare talent. So rare, in fact, that if I client sought it out, his, or her, path would lead them directly to one Dominick Cobb, and his associates, which, of course, meant Arthur was never out of work. Without the added threat of Mal, the team worked even more fluidly than they had before, and had yet to encounter again anyone with the kind of security that Robert Fischer had had. Still, the fact that they now worked almost exclusively deep in the subconscious mind meant that the team had to be careful about what they said to each other in training. What was an offhanded comment in Level One was a dangerous weapon in Limbo. You could never be too aware of your actions when you were working in the darkest areas of the mind of a colleague, or a friend.
“Arthur, you don’t think you could meet me at the old warehouse in about, hm,” Cobb paused, presumably to check on exactly how much time he needed to get to the aforementioned location himself, “let’s say, two hours, and some change?”
“Dom, it’s the middle of the night, and we’re in Siciliy right now. Even if I could get there, which I’m not saying I can, I really don’t think I want to. Can’t whatever this is wait until the morning?” From the tone in his friend’s voice, Arthur had a feeling he already knew what Cobb’s answer was going to be, but he had to ask anyway. He wasn’t going to let himself be taken advantage of quite that much.
Cobb sighed in exaggerated frustration. “You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need you here. I’m just getting off a Red-Eye right now. I’ve been flying since, well time zone’s are tricky and I’m distracted, but it’s been a few hours. The least you can do is get over here.” He paused, considering The Point Man’s previous reply. “And did you say we?”
“Yes, unfortunately, I did. I’m with Eames.”
“Wonderful, bring him with you.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to need a Forger? Jesus, Cobb, what kind of job is this, exactly?”
“I won’t ask what you’re doing on an island off the coast of Italy with a man you claim to dislike if you can get both yourself and him here before you ask any more questions.”
“First of all, it was for a job, a job which, lucky for you, is over as of 10:13 yesterday morning. And don’t argue with me. You know I need work outside of whatever you decide to take on sometimes; so does Eames.” The Point Man sighed and pulled himself out of bed, pressing the phone to his shoulder with his head so as to free his hands and begin dressing and gathering what little luggage he had together. “Second, I’ll see what I can do. It’s a good thing you bothered to actually make friends in this business, Dom, or you’d be finding yourself a few men down of every crew you needed.”
“Excellent. I knew I could count on you, Arthur. Besides, you’re a Point Man. If anyone can find a way to get high-speed airline tickets to London at 3:25 in the morning, it’s you.” Arthur ignored the flattery and continued to lace his shoes.
“I’ll be there,” he muttered, “with Eames. But don’t expect either of us to be particularly excited about it.”
“I only ask for your best, Arthur, you know that.”
“And I always give it, Dom. You know that.”
“That’s why I keep calling you, isn’t it?” Cobb didn’t wait for a response before disconnecting the call. He was confident in his friend’s abilities, and besides, he had some work to do himself before they could do a job like this one.
Arthur, fully dressed, single suitcase, and one silvery metal briefcase, in his hands, appeared in Eames’ doorway at ten minutes to four. Eames, ever perceptive, and apparently already sleeping in his clothes, as if anticipating that they’d get called off before the sun was up, invited the younger man in to sit while he began to gather his things. “We got a job, then?” he asked, pulling open the hotel dresser drawer and dumping a pile of socks onto the crumpled bedcover to be transferred to his suitcase.
Arthur nodded, unzipping his suitcase and retrieving a small laptop computer, flipping it open and setting it on his lap to begin the assuredly brief search for airline tickets at the lowest possible cost, which was likely to be free. There were certain perks to making one’s living as a criminal. One of them just happened to be that no one questioned you if your methods were less than legal.
Eames deposited the last of his suits in his suitcase, smiling to himself at the thought that if Arthur hadn’t been so wrapped up in his laptop, he probably would have attempted to refold them. The Point Man was too damn neat for his own good, although it often turned out to be a valuable attribute in his line of work. “I’m assuming we’re going to meet Cobb somewhere.”
Arthur nodded again. “The warehouse. London. Ah, here we are. Misters Bloom and Syracuse aren’t going to happy that they were bumped from what I’m sure is a very important flight for them, but there you have it. We have tickets. The plane leaves in,” he checked his watch, “ooh, we’re cutting a little close. Seventeen minutes.” He clicked the laptop shut and slid it back into his suitcase.
“I’ve cut closer,” Eames remarked. “Don’t worry, darling. We’ll make it with time to spare, I’m sure.”
“I’m not worried,” Arthur replied. “But we do need to go right now if we want to get to the terminal before they start seating. I doubt security will be much of a problem, considering that lying through things is your specialty, but I don’t want to end up missing the flight just because you decided it was a good time to play zen.”
“Oh alright, alright,” the Forger conceded. “Shall we, then?” he asked, picking up his suitcase as he stood and offering his arm in a teasingly courteous gesture. Arthur ignored the offer, and, taking his own suit and briefcase in hand, answered by way of walking into the hall, away from Eames. “Well alright, darling. Let’s not try to make conversation then. Silence, as they say, is golden. Ridiculous notion, but who am I to argue? You’re the one who just got me a plane ticket free of charge.”
“The whole point of silence is that you don’t talk, Eames,” Arthur interrupted, somewhat exasperated with his companion. “And the seats aren’t together.”
Eames clutched his chest melodramatically. “I’m wounded, Arthur. Deeply, deeply wounded.”
“Pick up your suitcase and come on. We’ve just lost a full minute and a half while you were messing around.”
Eames grinned sardonically behind Arthur’s back as the Point Man walked off brusquely down the hallway. “Yes, mother,” he muttered dryly, pulling the door of his now vacant hotel room shut with a light click.
Somehow, with the combined nature of both of their various skills, and a great deal of luck, not to mention the relative emptiness of the Palermo Airport in the small hours of the morning, both Arthur and Eames were seated more or less comfortably in two seats of a departing Boeing 737 to London by fifteen minutes later. Although Arthur had been correct in his assessment that the two seats were not next to each other, he had failed to calculate that they were, in fact, one in front of the other. Eames, grinning like a drunk jackal, took the seat behind his beleaguered colleague. Oh yes, Arthur thought, sinking as low as he could into his seat, this was going to be a thrilling flight.
-----
But wait, there's more! Click now and we'll throw in a free Part Three at absolutely no extra cost to you!