D'Autrefois - Chapter 8 - Kissing a frog
Title: D'Autrefois
Part II: Chapter 8: Kissing a frog
Author: koushi
Rating: R
Word count: 4142
Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I in any way affiliated with Inception and/or its creators.
He’d dropped her off at her apartment after an eerily silent car ride. The kids, tired from play, were falling asleep in the backseat, but Arthur and Ariadne couldn’t risk broaching the subject of the day’s shocking events in their presence.
A couple of minutes after she’d gone through the gate, however, Arthur got a call on his cell phone. He slowed and parked along the curb of a neighborhood street to answer it.
“Arthur.” It was Ariadne.
“What’s wrong?” He didn’t really have to ask.
“I-I can’t be alone. I can’t deal with this myself. I’m gathering my things. Can you please come pick me up?”
But she was still a human being after all. “No problem, I didn’t make it very far anyway.”
He made a u-turn and headed back. She was waiting out front with a small duffel bag of essentials, haphazardly stuffed into it in an obvious rush. The look on her face screamed, “Help me.” And if he didn’t know any better, he would have thought her to be a runaway, alone for the first time and utterly lost in the limitless expanses of the world.
She managed a quiet “thank you” as she opened the door and took shotgun. And then silence, once again, prevailed.
Once back at his complex, Arthur carried Phillipa and his briefcase and Ariadne carried James up the stairwell to his place as the two were soundly asleep. Taking the lightest of steps, they reached the bedroom, pulled back the covers, and tucked them in simultaneously, one on either side of the king-sized bed.
Shutting the door behind them, Arthur whispered to Ariadne, “As far as sleeping arrangements go, you can have the couch, I’ll sleep on the floor.” He then strode over to the storage closet next to his humble kitchen and scrounged for the sleeping bag he used to use for camping.
She forced a smile and laid her bag next to the sofa. Watching his always-precise movements as he pulled out the rolled up bundle from under some folding chairs and spread it out perpendicular to the couch, she sat down shakily.
Turning around as he finished, he said, “I guess I could have waited until after dinner. Speaking of which, what would you like to eat tonight?”
Ariadne darted her eyes away from his gaze and downward, embarrassed about having followed his every movement. However, she had to fight back a wave of nausea as she realized there was a skull fragment, glued on with dried brain matter, stuck to her shoe. The initial shock had ended, however, and now the tears of realization began, muffled sobs as she pulled the collar of Mal’s shirt up to cover her face.
“Oh shit. You’re probably not in the mood for food, are you?” Arthur said, lambasting himself and joining her on the couch. He rubbed her gently on the back, trying his best to comfort someone having her first-time encounter with death. “There, there, just let it all out. You’ll feel better soon. Hell, tomorrow it’ll all be forgotten.”
“I never want to see another needle in my life,” she cried, the words only discernible from context. “How... how do you deal with it? The trauma?”
“I’ve learned not to think of it that way. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I accept that I’m just doing my duty, protecting the innocent. There’s nothing more to it.”
“You’ve killed someone before this?” she sniffled. “Outside of a dream?”
“Yeah... but you do what you have to do. It’s a matter of honor, not backing down from adversity. There are evil people out there, and the only way to keep them in check is for some of us to step up and say, ‘I’ve had enough.’ And we sacrifice ourselves rather than indulging in crunchy pacifism to do what has to be done. All so that the good can live in peace,” Arthur explained in a slow, soft voice, as if reading a bedtime story to a child. He shifted closer to put his arm around her for a sideways hug.
His words of reassurance weren’t the most orthodox, but Ariadne found herself calming down quicker than she expected, considering the tumultuous day she’d experienced. Something about his touch was relaxing, as if he had gone through these same motions before in the past. Either that or he was a natural empath. I can’t lie... I don’t ever want to break this hold.
“Speaking of innocent people... Miles,” she nearly choked on having to mention his name, “said that Cobb was dead... I can’t believe it. We should have visited sooner to make sure he was all right...”
Cobb? Innocent? If not for the delicacy of the situation, Arthur would have snickered. “I wouldn’t take his word for it. The kids didn’t say anything on that point, but, knowing Miles, he’d be more likely to keep Cobb alive and tortured than to kill him right away. Like a cat with its food.”
“He was the last one to see Cobb though. We hardly have much else to go on.”
“Never underestimate your point man,” Arthur replied with a smile. “I have documents galore plus a cell phone. We’ll be able to find out anything and everything that Miles was up to.”
She looked up into Arthur’s face-her tear-streaked cheeks in full view-the first time since she’d avoided eye contact. He really did amaze her with his competence and resourcefulness: everything he’d done since she’d known him was meticulous, calculated, and sharp like the end of a pin. She craved someone like that in her life to keep her steady and grounded. Today could have been the last day of your life. Today should have been the last day of your life.
If there was one thing death could do for the greater good, it was to displace shyness.
“Quick, give me a kiss,” she said, wholly willing and wholly pliable. I don’t want to have to wonder if there will be a tomorrow. Today is all that matters.
Arthur, of course, did as he was told. She needs your support now, Arthur. Worry about the consequences afterwards.
This kiss was longer, fuller, more passionate than the peck from the Fischer job, and in it, Arthur felt some of the same feelings he’d harbored for Mal arising unexpectedly. Their first kiss had also come at an inappropriate moment.
***
“Happy birthday, honey,” Cobb said as he embraced his wife, sweeping away a strand of hair that had fallen across her face to perch it behind an ear ornamented with his present, sparkling diamond earrings. She beamed at the two men, brighter still than even the gems could hope to be.
She was wearing a gorgeous long red dress, with a bow on the hip where a slit originated, giving coy flashes of her stocking-clad legs. Her hair was done up elegantly as the couple had just returned from their favorite French restaurant downtown when Arthur had dropped by for an impromptu celebration.
“Now how about I get us some champagne to celebrate?” Cobb suggested, rising from the living room sofa where the three of them were sitting. He too was dressed handsomely in formal wear.
“Oh, yes. Please do,” Mal exclaimed. “The glasses are in the cabinet in the dining room.”
Cobb tipped his head and hurriedly exited the room to retrieve the refreshments.
Well, might as well keep going with the presents. “Happy birthday, Mal,” Arthur said, smiling and handing her a neatly wrapped package of metallic blue tinsel.
She thanked him sweetly and started unwrapping carefully, making sure not to tear the paper. Mal gasped. Within the clear plastic box was a shiny silver top.
“You remembered what I told you?” she remarked, awed by his attentiveness. “But it was so long ago, and it was just a random comment-”
“Everything you say is important though, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Arthur smiled. Must have had some terrible ex-boyfriends. “When you said your most memorable present as a child was a top that would spin for ages, I decided that I’d have to give you another fond-but less distant-memory to look back on.”
That’s when she set the top down on the coffee table and, with a ferocity he’d previously only glimpsed in her fiery eyes, swiveled her upper body toward Arthur, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a deep open-mouthed kiss, as if she’d finally broken free from the reins of self-restraint.
Keeping one hand at the cusp of his neck, she lowered her other to the hem of his pants, where she slipped her fingers in to grip at its contents. Arthur nearly jumped at the surprising touch but remained stunned, blushing from his heightened heart rate.
The hell is she doing? Cobb could come back in at any minute. This is wrong. This is all wrong. And the worst part was his inability to protest. Despite how much he tried to fight these insidious thoughts, they always crept back through the cracks of his mind. I thought I sealed it up. With concepts like “honor” and “loyalty” and “discipline” I created a sacred temple in there, interdicted to any impurity. So why am I making out with my best friend’s wife?
He started responding to her desperate, hungry motions, sinking into the kiss and placing his trembling hands on her hip, feeling the sliver of netted hosiery under the pads of his fingers. She’d obviously been wanting this for a long time, and Arthur, being Arthur, could never say no.
Her movements on his lower half became more vigorous, and even his doubts disappeared, leaving only the image of her in his mind. Their kissing became more intense, heads bobbing with the entanglement of tongues, lips grasping as if to engulf the other pair. But then, as footsteps were heard in the hallway, Mal removed herself completely from his contact, leaving Arthur with only a throbbing discomfort in his trousers. He wiped his mouth with a sleeve in case of any stray lipstick marks as Cobb walked back in, holding a bottle in the crook of his elbow and three glasses in his hands.
“Mal, baby, you are so forgetful,” he grinned. “The glasses were in a box in the garage. We hadn’t removed them since we moved, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Mal laughed. She sent a wink at Arthur as Cobb set to cork the champagne bottle and pour their drinks. He could hardly breathe, shifting awkwardly in place. This is not going to do.
“Excuse me,” Arthur said, standing abruptly and turning away from his hosts. “I must use the restroom.”
He had to relieve himself, that was certain. He felt positively dirty, contemptuous, a worthless traitor at best. But as he took himself to release, sitting with his pants down on the ledge of the tub in the guest restroom, the guilt was pushed away in favor of thinking about Mal’s lips, her hands all over him, and her sex-starved urgency; he wondered what any of it meant.
***
And here Ariadne was, naive and still blossoming into her own person, getting tangled up in a web, the confounded complexities of which she could never divine. He withdrew, conscience bearing too heavily upon him.
“What’s wrong?” Ariadne asked, her hand flying up to her mouth, horrified at his reaction. Was I too forward?
“It’s not you... I was just reminded of Mal,” Arthur said. No, don’t tear up again, please. I couldn’t forgive myself. ...Fuck it, I can’t forgive myself either way.
“Why... why would that remind you of Mal?” she prodded, perplexed.
He stared at her silently but meaningfully.
She was lovely... Lovely. The words came back to her gradually.
She blinked, realization dawning on her. “Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit,” he agreed. “And I know what you’re thinking: world’s worst friend, world’s biggest hypocrite, yadda yadda. Well, you may be right. I just had to get this all out in the open before you decided to invest any more time and energy in me.”
“Oh, Arthur... That isn’t what I’m thinking,” she fibbed. “I’m just.. wow.” Really, I’m torn. I thought you to be the one person above reproach. Yet the fact that you’re willing to share something with me and not bottling it up like you always have... That means so much more to me than some petty judgment.
“Why do you think I hadn’t called you since the job finished? We obviously had chemistry, and let me admit to you right now, I wanted to see you again. But fuck if I’m going to drag you down into my own personal quicksand,” Arthur said, determined. He didn’t want to scare her to death, but it was only fair to give forewarning. His voice became increasingly erratic as he went on. “And since I called you, look what’s happened. You’ve had some dude’s head explode all over you and now you want to kiss a frog. Let me tell you, I’m not going to be a prince. I’m going to be some grieving ball of nerves holding steadfast to my broken principles-a walking contradiction-with more baggage than a two-story cross-Atlantic fucking Boeing jet.”
She hadn’t imagined him like this before: unraveling. Sure, everyone had their moments, but the put-together, steel pillar of an Arthur she was just fawning over... even he would crumple under the force of gravity with enough strain and enough time.
“I-I can’t imagine what you went through, holding yourself and Cobb up through the aftermath...”
Arthur chuckled morosely. “Every time she was mentioned during the Inception job it was like ripping open an old wound that had just scarred over. Every time she showed up as a projection of Cobb’s... that was salt on the wound. You thought I was uptight, that I was cold and emotionless? Well it was the only thing I could do to keep from breaking down entirely,” he said. Then his face darkened with shame. “Thinking about her was what kept me inattentive enough to overlook the fact that Fischer was militarized.”
“No one is blaming you, Arthur. No one even remembers that anymore,” Ariadne murmured. “All that matters is that we’re safe now. ...Ex-except for Cobb. But whatever happened to him, we’ll find him and bring him back; don’t feel bad.”
“We’d better. I owe him my life and several more, you know?”
“Hm?”
“His dad saved my dad’s life when they were fighting in the war together. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t even exist. Plus he’d been a constant in my life whenever I was going through rough times,” Arthur said, although not without a bit of understated ambivalence.
“I want you to know that I’m here for you, to listen whenever necessary,” she said, inner strength restored by her natural instinct to dote on and protect anyone in need. “We haven’t known each other for a long time, no, but I feel like we’ve been through enough life-changing events to know how the other operates.”
Arthur nodded reluctantly. “Are you sure you still want to stick around me? Despite my moral failings? I mean, I could go on the hunt for Cobb myself, if you wanted to cut contact-”
“I’m sure,” she smiled. As for your reasoning for committing what seems to be adultery... I may inquire later. But for now, I’m just relieved to find out that you’re human as well.
***
The kids woke up disoriented, which was understandable since they’d never been to Arthur’s apartment previously; it’d always been Arthur paying the visits to the Cobbs’. James shed a few cranky tears, but they quickly cleared upon learning that they’d be having spaghetti with meatballs for dinner.
“And you’ll be staying with Uncle Arthur now, is that okay?”
“Yay!” they cheered. “Can we stay up past our bedtimes?”
He could do no more than laugh and nod.
The interactions between Arthur and Ariadne had also reverted to the platonic friendship they’d had before, both of them feeling they should at least sleep on the thought of any sort of change and that there were other, higher priorities awaiting in the meantime.
“I’ll check the cell phone,” Ariadne said. Arthur obligingly picked up a stack of papers and starting scanning through its contents. They had moved the research materials to the bedroom for the time being as Phillipa and James were now playing with the Wii, intermittent bursts of giggles or disappointed groans emanating from the TV area.
Sitting cross-legged on the carpet, Arthur’s search did not seem fruitful. He first went through the most mundane of bills: water, gas, electric, cable, etcetera. The only feature that perked his interest was the fact that they were addressed to Miles at Cobb’s address, meaning that he had planned for a permanent takeover of the house, changing the owner’s name at various utility companies. Next came a printed email to a lawyer from Miles, asking about changing custody for children when their parents were dead, missing, or incarcerated. Interesting. He put it on the left, bookmarking it for later scrutiny.
“Hey,” Ariadne mentioned, breaking his daze of concentration. “Does this name sound familiar?”
“What name?” Arthur said, hoping it wasn’t another wild goose chase.
“Vincent E. Cobol.”
“Wait, hand me that,” Arthur exclaimed, crawling up to Ariadne to get a better view of the screen. There were an array of text messages and voicemails from the man named Cobol, whom, of course, Arthur knew to be the head of the murderous corporate front, Cobol Engineering. What was Miles doing contacting him?
Ariadne opened the first text message on the list and latest chronologically: Had great dinner with you at Hubert’s Buffet. Next week?
“They’re friends?” Arthur nearly blew a gasket. “How long ago do these messages date back?”
“Um, from what I can see, since a few months ago at least,” Ariadne replied scrolling down through the history.
“Open the next one,” Arthur said, still in disbelief.
You will have to speak to my man, Mitch Wilcox, directly.
“The hell does that mean?” Arthur furrowed his brows. Ariadne could do nothing but shrug in response.
The next few messages also had to do with dinner and golfing plans, unrelated to Cobb’s disappearance but signifying that Miles had long since had a strong bond with the corporate figurehead.
“How about we try listening to the voicemails?” Ariadne suggested. “Maybe he discusses more in there.”
And she was right.
Hello, my dear Miles. I hope that my underlings provided you with appropriate accommodations during your visit to our headquarters. If any displeased you, let me know and I will have them dealt with. Once again I regret not being present as I had to have surgery performed on that date. Until next time.
“Why would he visit the Cobol building if his friend wasn’t there?” Arthur asked rhetorically. They looked at each other. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
“Either he’s doing some kind of other business with the corporation... or they have Cobb,” Ariadne said.
“I should have guessed Cobol had a hand in this,” Arthur replied broodingly. “The fact that they offered Cobb a way out as soon as the warrant was put out for his arrest, that was fishy enough. But then they seemed to have a lot of private information on the both of us, which they wouldn’t have had access to unless someone talked.”
“So Miles had it out for Cobb all along?” Ariadne gasped. “And he got his friend from Cobol to do his dirty work?”
“Now that I look back on it, it seems reasonable. I mean... completely fucking psycho but still reasonable. Mal was his only child, and he’d always been overprotective of her. And let’s just say that, even before her passing, the fact that he didn’t like Cobb was an understatement.”
“But Mal loved him, right?”
Arthur grit his teeth and tensed his muscles for a second, an inadvertent twitch. “She did.”
Ariadne could see that whatever it was that haunted him had never been confronted or resolved. He refused to open the closet door or to look under the bed to confirm that there was no monster lurking within; instead he let the mere possibility gobble him up. A shade of uncertainty over his mind.
“Do you... do you blame him as well?” she whispered, immediately regretting her question.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know,” he sighed. “Contrary to how he must have explained it to you, there were a lot of factors involved leading up to what happened. ...But you know what? I did. I hated him initially for what happened to her even though I never let my anger show. But I also hated myself for it, too. It never would have gotten to that point without my influence.”
“What was that?”
“She had always been a dreamer. Brilliant but kinda kooky. Believed her life was a fairy tale where she'd find a prince and live happily ever after. But things, of course, are never that simple,” he said, staring at the blue striped wallpaper in front of him. “When we started our... affair, they only got worse.”
Ariadne nodded, feigning understanding. She knew he’d have trouble communicating in a coherent fashion the multitude of colliding concepts bouncing through his head, but she was proud of him for even trying... for trusting her enough to speak from his heart.
“I was sucked into it too, that radical notion. I liked hanging out with the couple. I mean it was my best friend that I hadn’t seen for years, thanks to his schooling versus my military obligations, plus the welcome addition of his very... attractive wife,” he bit his lip in embarrassment. “At first they made me cherish my strong ties to reality. It was like they were floating on clouds all day, and I never savored the feel of the cold, hard ground under my feet more than I did back then. But then of course I got pulled in, or up I should say, somewhat as well.”
Ariadne could sympathize. Building cities in your mind all day, how could your head not be in the clouds? Ever since experiencing dreamshare, she, too, had been slipping into daydreams more often, craving the lucid control, mental processing power, and pure creative inspiration offered by the PASIV. Her chess piece lay forlorn in the bottom of her messenger bag, as if waiting for her to again ascend into that Shangri-la of imagination.
“I encouraged her to think of me as her prince. That I, and I alone, could bring her true love and pure happiness. I even... I even asked her to leave Cobb for me, so that it’d be just us and our kids,” Arthur admitted shamefully. “It was like we were playing a psychological tug-of-war with her in the middle.”
“Wait. Your kids...?”
Arthur pursed his lips and exhaled. Another meaningful look.
“Oh, oh my gosh.” It was like her world was getting turned upside and folded on top of itself every five minutes. You should probably stop asking questions, Ariadne. Curiosity almost cost you your life after all.
Just then James tapped on the door and walked in pouting.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Ariadne said, concerned, turning to face the boy.
“Phillipa cheated! She took an extra turn when I wasn’t looking.”
“No, I didn’t!” she shouted from the living room.
Kids will be kids. Arthur smiled, his woes tucked neatly back into his pocket, and stood up, taking James by the hand and heading over to his sister to resolve the dispute.
Alone with her thoughts finally, she mulled over what her discoveries signified. Arthur was definitely still troubled by everything and still deeply in love with Mal. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, for which she berated herself soundly. But considering the profound grief and unobtainable love that he carried with each step like massive boulders, did Arthur still have the wherewithal to forgive and to care for anyone else? For Cobb? ...For her?
When he returned, having obviously pondered their situation in the midst of comforting the children, Arthur stated, answering her doubts once and for all, “Cobol Engineering is one of the most high-security organizations in the world due to its extensive illegal operations. Which means...”
“What?”
He seemed exasperated at himself for having to come to such a conclusion, but, to accomplish the task at hand, there was no other choice. “We’ll need someone who can expertly forge documents and credentials, disguise himself as an employee, and obtain confidential information. Does this description ring a bell?”
Ah, the sweet scent of rivalry. Ariadne smiled. “I know just the man for the job.”
Next Chapter
D'Autrefois - Master Post
Part II: Chapter 8: Kissing a frog
Author: koushi
Rating: R
Word count: 4142
Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I in any way affiliated with Inception and/or its creators.
He’d dropped her off at her apartment after an eerily silent car ride. The kids, tired from play, were falling asleep in the backseat, but Arthur and Ariadne couldn’t risk broaching the subject of the day’s shocking events in their presence.
A couple of minutes after she’d gone through the gate, however, Arthur got a call on his cell phone. He slowed and parked along the curb of a neighborhood street to answer it.
“Arthur.” It was Ariadne.
“What’s wrong?” He didn’t really have to ask.
“I-I can’t be alone. I can’t deal with this myself. I’m gathering my things. Can you please come pick me up?”
But she was still a human being after all. “No problem, I didn’t make it very far anyway.”
He made a u-turn and headed back. She was waiting out front with a small duffel bag of essentials, haphazardly stuffed into it in an obvious rush. The look on her face screamed, “Help me.” And if he didn’t know any better, he would have thought her to be a runaway, alone for the first time and utterly lost in the limitless expanses of the world.
She managed a quiet “thank you” as she opened the door and took shotgun. And then silence, once again, prevailed.
Once back at his complex, Arthur carried Phillipa and his briefcase and Ariadne carried James up the stairwell to his place as the two were soundly asleep. Taking the lightest of steps, they reached the bedroom, pulled back the covers, and tucked them in simultaneously, one on either side of the king-sized bed.
Shutting the door behind them, Arthur whispered to Ariadne, “As far as sleeping arrangements go, you can have the couch, I’ll sleep on the floor.” He then strode over to the storage closet next to his humble kitchen and scrounged for the sleeping bag he used to use for camping.
She forced a smile and laid her bag next to the sofa. Watching his always-precise movements as he pulled out the rolled up bundle from under some folding chairs and spread it out perpendicular to the couch, she sat down shakily.
Turning around as he finished, he said, “I guess I could have waited until after dinner. Speaking of which, what would you like to eat tonight?”
Ariadne darted her eyes away from his gaze and downward, embarrassed about having followed his every movement. However, she had to fight back a wave of nausea as she realized there was a skull fragment, glued on with dried brain matter, stuck to her shoe. The initial shock had ended, however, and now the tears of realization began, muffled sobs as she pulled the collar of Mal’s shirt up to cover her face.
“Oh shit. You’re probably not in the mood for food, are you?” Arthur said, lambasting himself and joining her on the couch. He rubbed her gently on the back, trying his best to comfort someone having her first-time encounter with death. “There, there, just let it all out. You’ll feel better soon. Hell, tomorrow it’ll all be forgotten.”
“I never want to see another needle in my life,” she cried, the words only discernible from context. “How... how do you deal with it? The trauma?”
“I’ve learned not to think of it that way. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I accept that I’m just doing my duty, protecting the innocent. There’s nothing more to it.”
“You’ve killed someone before this?” she sniffled. “Outside of a dream?”
“Yeah... but you do what you have to do. It’s a matter of honor, not backing down from adversity. There are evil people out there, and the only way to keep them in check is for some of us to step up and say, ‘I’ve had enough.’ And we sacrifice ourselves rather than indulging in crunchy pacifism to do what has to be done. All so that the good can live in peace,” Arthur explained in a slow, soft voice, as if reading a bedtime story to a child. He shifted closer to put his arm around her for a sideways hug.
His words of reassurance weren’t the most orthodox, but Ariadne found herself calming down quicker than she expected, considering the tumultuous day she’d experienced. Something about his touch was relaxing, as if he had gone through these same motions before in the past. Either that or he was a natural empath. I can’t lie... I don’t ever want to break this hold.
“Speaking of innocent people... Miles,” she nearly choked on having to mention his name, “said that Cobb was dead... I can’t believe it. We should have visited sooner to make sure he was all right...”
Cobb? Innocent? If not for the delicacy of the situation, Arthur would have snickered. “I wouldn’t take his word for it. The kids didn’t say anything on that point, but, knowing Miles, he’d be more likely to keep Cobb alive and tortured than to kill him right away. Like a cat with its food.”
“He was the last one to see Cobb though. We hardly have much else to go on.”
“Never underestimate your point man,” Arthur replied with a smile. “I have documents galore plus a cell phone. We’ll be able to find out anything and everything that Miles was up to.”
She looked up into Arthur’s face-her tear-streaked cheeks in full view-the first time since she’d avoided eye contact. He really did amaze her with his competence and resourcefulness: everything he’d done since she’d known him was meticulous, calculated, and sharp like the end of a pin. She craved someone like that in her life to keep her steady and grounded. Today could have been the last day of your life. Today should have been the last day of your life.
If there was one thing death could do for the greater good, it was to displace shyness.
“Quick, give me a kiss,” she said, wholly willing and wholly pliable. I don’t want to have to wonder if there will be a tomorrow. Today is all that matters.
Arthur, of course, did as he was told. She needs your support now, Arthur. Worry about the consequences afterwards.
This kiss was longer, fuller, more passionate than the peck from the Fischer job, and in it, Arthur felt some of the same feelings he’d harbored for Mal arising unexpectedly. Their first kiss had also come at an inappropriate moment.
***
“Happy birthday, honey,” Cobb said as he embraced his wife, sweeping away a strand of hair that had fallen across her face to perch it behind an ear ornamented with his present, sparkling diamond earrings. She beamed at the two men, brighter still than even the gems could hope to be.
She was wearing a gorgeous long red dress, with a bow on the hip where a slit originated, giving coy flashes of her stocking-clad legs. Her hair was done up elegantly as the couple had just returned from their favorite French restaurant downtown when Arthur had dropped by for an impromptu celebration.
“Now how about I get us some champagne to celebrate?” Cobb suggested, rising from the living room sofa where the three of them were sitting. He too was dressed handsomely in formal wear.
“Oh, yes. Please do,” Mal exclaimed. “The glasses are in the cabinet in the dining room.”
Cobb tipped his head and hurriedly exited the room to retrieve the refreshments.
Well, might as well keep going with the presents. “Happy birthday, Mal,” Arthur said, smiling and handing her a neatly wrapped package of metallic blue tinsel.
She thanked him sweetly and started unwrapping carefully, making sure not to tear the paper. Mal gasped. Within the clear plastic box was a shiny silver top.
“You remembered what I told you?” she remarked, awed by his attentiveness. “But it was so long ago, and it was just a random comment-”
“Everything you say is important though, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Arthur smiled. Must have had some terrible ex-boyfriends. “When you said your most memorable present as a child was a top that would spin for ages, I decided that I’d have to give you another fond-but less distant-memory to look back on.”
That’s when she set the top down on the coffee table and, with a ferocity he’d previously only glimpsed in her fiery eyes, swiveled her upper body toward Arthur, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a deep open-mouthed kiss, as if she’d finally broken free from the reins of self-restraint.
Keeping one hand at the cusp of his neck, she lowered her other to the hem of his pants, where she slipped her fingers in to grip at its contents. Arthur nearly jumped at the surprising touch but remained stunned, blushing from his heightened heart rate.
The hell is she doing? Cobb could come back in at any minute. This is wrong. This is all wrong. And the worst part was his inability to protest. Despite how much he tried to fight these insidious thoughts, they always crept back through the cracks of his mind. I thought I sealed it up. With concepts like “honor” and “loyalty” and “discipline” I created a sacred temple in there, interdicted to any impurity. So why am I making out with my best friend’s wife?
He started responding to her desperate, hungry motions, sinking into the kiss and placing his trembling hands on her hip, feeling the sliver of netted hosiery under the pads of his fingers. She’d obviously been wanting this for a long time, and Arthur, being Arthur, could never say no.
Her movements on his lower half became more vigorous, and even his doubts disappeared, leaving only the image of her in his mind. Their kissing became more intense, heads bobbing with the entanglement of tongues, lips grasping as if to engulf the other pair. But then, as footsteps were heard in the hallway, Mal removed herself completely from his contact, leaving Arthur with only a throbbing discomfort in his trousers. He wiped his mouth with a sleeve in case of any stray lipstick marks as Cobb walked back in, holding a bottle in the crook of his elbow and three glasses in his hands.
“Mal, baby, you are so forgetful,” he grinned. “The glasses were in a box in the garage. We hadn’t removed them since we moved, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right,” Mal laughed. She sent a wink at Arthur as Cobb set to cork the champagne bottle and pour their drinks. He could hardly breathe, shifting awkwardly in place. This is not going to do.
“Excuse me,” Arthur said, standing abruptly and turning away from his hosts. “I must use the restroom.”
He had to relieve himself, that was certain. He felt positively dirty, contemptuous, a worthless traitor at best. But as he took himself to release, sitting with his pants down on the ledge of the tub in the guest restroom, the guilt was pushed away in favor of thinking about Mal’s lips, her hands all over him, and her sex-starved urgency; he wondered what any of it meant.
***
And here Ariadne was, naive and still blossoming into her own person, getting tangled up in a web, the confounded complexities of which she could never divine. He withdrew, conscience bearing too heavily upon him.
“What’s wrong?” Ariadne asked, her hand flying up to her mouth, horrified at his reaction. Was I too forward?
“It’s not you... I was just reminded of Mal,” Arthur said. No, don’t tear up again, please. I couldn’t forgive myself. ...Fuck it, I can’t forgive myself either way.
“Why... why would that remind you of Mal?” she prodded, perplexed.
He stared at her silently but meaningfully.
She was lovely... Lovely. The words came back to her gradually.
She blinked, realization dawning on her. “Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit,” he agreed. “And I know what you’re thinking: world’s worst friend, world’s biggest hypocrite, yadda yadda. Well, you may be right. I just had to get this all out in the open before you decided to invest any more time and energy in me.”
“Oh, Arthur... That isn’t what I’m thinking,” she fibbed. “I’m just.. wow.” Really, I’m torn. I thought you to be the one person above reproach. Yet the fact that you’re willing to share something with me and not bottling it up like you always have... That means so much more to me than some petty judgment.
“Why do you think I hadn’t called you since the job finished? We obviously had chemistry, and let me admit to you right now, I wanted to see you again. But fuck if I’m going to drag you down into my own personal quicksand,” Arthur said, determined. He didn’t want to scare her to death, but it was only fair to give forewarning. His voice became increasingly erratic as he went on. “And since I called you, look what’s happened. You’ve had some dude’s head explode all over you and now you want to kiss a frog. Let me tell you, I’m not going to be a prince. I’m going to be some grieving ball of nerves holding steadfast to my broken principles-a walking contradiction-with more baggage than a two-story cross-Atlantic fucking Boeing jet.”
She hadn’t imagined him like this before: unraveling. Sure, everyone had their moments, but the put-together, steel pillar of an Arthur she was just fawning over... even he would crumple under the force of gravity with enough strain and enough time.
“I-I can’t imagine what you went through, holding yourself and Cobb up through the aftermath...”
Arthur chuckled morosely. “Every time she was mentioned during the Inception job it was like ripping open an old wound that had just scarred over. Every time she showed up as a projection of Cobb’s... that was salt on the wound. You thought I was uptight, that I was cold and emotionless? Well it was the only thing I could do to keep from breaking down entirely,” he said. Then his face darkened with shame. “Thinking about her was what kept me inattentive enough to overlook the fact that Fischer was militarized.”
“No one is blaming you, Arthur. No one even remembers that anymore,” Ariadne murmured. “All that matters is that we’re safe now. ...Ex-except for Cobb. But whatever happened to him, we’ll find him and bring him back; don’t feel bad.”
“We’d better. I owe him my life and several more, you know?”
“Hm?”
“His dad saved my dad’s life when they were fighting in the war together. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t even exist. Plus he’d been a constant in my life whenever I was going through rough times,” Arthur said, although not without a bit of understated ambivalence.
“I want you to know that I’m here for you, to listen whenever necessary,” she said, inner strength restored by her natural instinct to dote on and protect anyone in need. “We haven’t known each other for a long time, no, but I feel like we’ve been through enough life-changing events to know how the other operates.”
Arthur nodded reluctantly. “Are you sure you still want to stick around me? Despite my moral failings? I mean, I could go on the hunt for Cobb myself, if you wanted to cut contact-”
“I’m sure,” she smiled. As for your reasoning for committing what seems to be adultery... I may inquire later. But for now, I’m just relieved to find out that you’re human as well.
***
The kids woke up disoriented, which was understandable since they’d never been to Arthur’s apartment previously; it’d always been Arthur paying the visits to the Cobbs’. James shed a few cranky tears, but they quickly cleared upon learning that they’d be having spaghetti with meatballs for dinner.
“And you’ll be staying with Uncle Arthur now, is that okay?”
“Yay!” they cheered. “Can we stay up past our bedtimes?”
He could do no more than laugh and nod.
The interactions between Arthur and Ariadne had also reverted to the platonic friendship they’d had before, both of them feeling they should at least sleep on the thought of any sort of change and that there were other, higher priorities awaiting in the meantime.
“I’ll check the cell phone,” Ariadne said. Arthur obligingly picked up a stack of papers and starting scanning through its contents. They had moved the research materials to the bedroom for the time being as Phillipa and James were now playing with the Wii, intermittent bursts of giggles or disappointed groans emanating from the TV area.
Sitting cross-legged on the carpet, Arthur’s search did not seem fruitful. He first went through the most mundane of bills: water, gas, electric, cable, etcetera. The only feature that perked his interest was the fact that they were addressed to Miles at Cobb’s address, meaning that he had planned for a permanent takeover of the house, changing the owner’s name at various utility companies. Next came a printed email to a lawyer from Miles, asking about changing custody for children when their parents were dead, missing, or incarcerated. Interesting. He put it on the left, bookmarking it for later scrutiny.
“Hey,” Ariadne mentioned, breaking his daze of concentration. “Does this name sound familiar?”
“What name?” Arthur said, hoping it wasn’t another wild goose chase.
“Vincent E. Cobol.”
“Wait, hand me that,” Arthur exclaimed, crawling up to Ariadne to get a better view of the screen. There were an array of text messages and voicemails from the man named Cobol, whom, of course, Arthur knew to be the head of the murderous corporate front, Cobol Engineering. What was Miles doing contacting him?
Ariadne opened the first text message on the list and latest chronologically: Had great dinner with you at Hubert’s Buffet. Next week?
“They’re friends?” Arthur nearly blew a gasket. “How long ago do these messages date back?”
“Um, from what I can see, since a few months ago at least,” Ariadne replied scrolling down through the history.
“Open the next one,” Arthur said, still in disbelief.
You will have to speak to my man, Mitch Wilcox, directly.
“The hell does that mean?” Arthur furrowed his brows. Ariadne could do nothing but shrug in response.
The next few messages also had to do with dinner and golfing plans, unrelated to Cobb’s disappearance but signifying that Miles had long since had a strong bond with the corporate figurehead.
“How about we try listening to the voicemails?” Ariadne suggested. “Maybe he discusses more in there.”
And she was right.
Hello, my dear Miles. I hope that my underlings provided you with appropriate accommodations during your visit to our headquarters. If any displeased you, let me know and I will have them dealt with. Once again I regret not being present as I had to have surgery performed on that date. Until next time.
“Why would he visit the Cobol building if his friend wasn’t there?” Arthur asked rhetorically. They looked at each other. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
“Either he’s doing some kind of other business with the corporation... or they have Cobb,” Ariadne said.
“I should have guessed Cobol had a hand in this,” Arthur replied broodingly. “The fact that they offered Cobb a way out as soon as the warrant was put out for his arrest, that was fishy enough. But then they seemed to have a lot of private information on the both of us, which they wouldn’t have had access to unless someone talked.”
“So Miles had it out for Cobb all along?” Ariadne gasped. “And he got his friend from Cobol to do his dirty work?”
“Now that I look back on it, it seems reasonable. I mean... completely fucking psycho but still reasonable. Mal was his only child, and he’d always been overprotective of her. And let’s just say that, even before her passing, the fact that he didn’t like Cobb was an understatement.”
“But Mal loved him, right?”
Arthur grit his teeth and tensed his muscles for a second, an inadvertent twitch. “She did.”
Ariadne could see that whatever it was that haunted him had never been confronted or resolved. He refused to open the closet door or to look under the bed to confirm that there was no monster lurking within; instead he let the mere possibility gobble him up. A shade of uncertainty over his mind.
“Do you... do you blame him as well?” she whispered, immediately regretting her question.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know,” he sighed. “Contrary to how he must have explained it to you, there were a lot of factors involved leading up to what happened. ...But you know what? I did. I hated him initially for what happened to her even though I never let my anger show. But I also hated myself for it, too. It never would have gotten to that point without my influence.”
“What was that?”
“She had always been a dreamer. Brilliant but kinda kooky. Believed her life was a fairy tale where she'd find a prince and live happily ever after. But things, of course, are never that simple,” he said, staring at the blue striped wallpaper in front of him. “When we started our... affair, they only got worse.”
Ariadne nodded, feigning understanding. She knew he’d have trouble communicating in a coherent fashion the multitude of colliding concepts bouncing through his head, but she was proud of him for even trying... for trusting her enough to speak from his heart.
“I was sucked into it too, that radical notion. I liked hanging out with the couple. I mean it was my best friend that I hadn’t seen for years, thanks to his schooling versus my military obligations, plus the welcome addition of his very... attractive wife,” he bit his lip in embarrassment. “At first they made me cherish my strong ties to reality. It was like they were floating on clouds all day, and I never savored the feel of the cold, hard ground under my feet more than I did back then. But then of course I got pulled in, or up I should say, somewhat as well.”
Ariadne could sympathize. Building cities in your mind all day, how could your head not be in the clouds? Ever since experiencing dreamshare, she, too, had been slipping into daydreams more often, craving the lucid control, mental processing power, and pure creative inspiration offered by the PASIV. Her chess piece lay forlorn in the bottom of her messenger bag, as if waiting for her to again ascend into that Shangri-la of imagination.
“I encouraged her to think of me as her prince. That I, and I alone, could bring her true love and pure happiness. I even... I even asked her to leave Cobb for me, so that it’d be just us and our kids,” Arthur admitted shamefully. “It was like we were playing a psychological tug-of-war with her in the middle.”
“Wait. Your kids...?”
Arthur pursed his lips and exhaled. Another meaningful look.
“Oh, oh my gosh.” It was like her world was getting turned upside and folded on top of itself every five minutes. You should probably stop asking questions, Ariadne. Curiosity almost cost you your life after all.
Just then James tapped on the door and walked in pouting.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Ariadne said, concerned, turning to face the boy.
“Phillipa cheated! She took an extra turn when I wasn’t looking.”
“No, I didn’t!” she shouted from the living room.
Kids will be kids. Arthur smiled, his woes tucked neatly back into his pocket, and stood up, taking James by the hand and heading over to his sister to resolve the dispute.
Alone with her thoughts finally, she mulled over what her discoveries signified. Arthur was definitely still troubled by everything and still deeply in love with Mal. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, for which she berated herself soundly. But considering the profound grief and unobtainable love that he carried with each step like massive boulders, did Arthur still have the wherewithal to forgive and to care for anyone else? For Cobb? ...For her?
When he returned, having obviously pondered their situation in the midst of comforting the children, Arthur stated, answering her doubts once and for all, “Cobol Engineering is one of the most high-security organizations in the world due to its extensive illegal operations. Which means...”
“What?”
He seemed exasperated at himself for having to come to such a conclusion, but, to accomplish the task at hand, there was no other choice. “We’ll need someone who can expertly forge documents and credentials, disguise himself as an employee, and obtain confidential information. Does this description ring a bell?”
Ah, the sweet scent of rivalry. Ariadne smiled. “I know just the man for the job.”
Next Chapter
D'Autrefois - Master Post