Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters... at all.
Title: The Dream Catcher
Rating: M for later chapters
Summery: She's a threat, she's elusive, They didn't know what to make of her. They couldn't compare her to anything they've ever seen before. She was going to be the end of them.
For three months the French warehouse's doors stayed locked. For three months the chic silver briefcase stayed shut away in the French warehouse. For three months the keys to the warehouse collected dust in Arthur's key bowl. For three months nobody dreamed while they slept.
The break was over.
"Her totem is a dream catcher." Cobb tosses a Polaroid to his left.
"Irony at it's best." A soft laugh escaped Ariadne's lips.
"It's immaturity, someone unable to handle complexity of this business' nature," Arthur says pushing the photo down the table.
"You're just cross because you didn't think of it first." Eames pauses to smirk, waiting for Arthur's reaction, or lack one. "Or is it because it's Dasha we're talking about?" Bingo.
Arthurs reaction was one for the history books. Arthurs head turned slow and systematically, calculating the anger boiling in side of him, controlling it from being released. Arthur's eyes dark with detestation for the situation he'd been put into. "If you wish to bring up The Mark on a personal manner than, Mr. Eames, I assure you there is a better time and place for it." Arthurs eye lids dropped slowly to show his boredom with the topic to Eames.
The room was at a pause, all eyes on Eames.
"I see. Are we to go fist-t-cuffs at dawn or should I bring my revolver?"
"When I decide I'll let you know." Arthur turned his seat to face Dom again, suppressed smile in tow.
"I shall enjoy whatever your answer may be Love." Arthur's neck stiffened at the pet name.
"She has several identification marks." With that Dom nodded to Arthur.
Arthur gathered his papers, jumped out of his seat and stepped to the right of Cobb. "The Mark has a scar across her right leg," Arthur started as he passed out a drawn copy of the female figure. Several enlargements were shown, all having photographs of the subjects marks. "She has two known tattoos. One is of a yellow daisy on her left foot, second toe. The other is of a small dream catcher on the start of her spine and her pili line."
"Her what," Eames looks up from the handout.
"Her pili line," Arthur repeats "Her hair line" The team all breathes out in understanding Arthur mumbles, "Cretin," and takes his place next to Ariadne.
"Yusuf and I have discussed the need for a sedative with a special quality." At this Yusuf stood up from his seat next to Eames and walked to a long table filled with glass beakers. All shapes and sizes, with each compound in it's own color.
"We need figured that we needed a compound that had an untested element. This element would allow use to go farther then we've gone before. It opens up the mind to new ideas and guiding."
Ariadne's eye brows crinkled together, "So you're sedative acts as a liberal arts collage."
"No. We'd be using it to control her mind. We'd be leaving ticks or queues for when we're back in reality." Arthur looked around the room to see Eames' and Ariadne's eyes glazed over. "In example, every time she hears a bell ring she'd sit up straight."
"Right, the only-"
"The only issue is where do you cross the line between cutting out her out as a threat and cut out all of what makes her, her."
Ariadne raises her hand slightly, "Who is Dasha?"