Author's Note:

Inception = absolutely epic. I saw it three times in a week and totally fell in love. =3 SO I attempt a fan fiction!

I warn you now that it take me a while to get used to the characters. Luckily, this one is a year or two before the movie so there's a tiny bit of wiggle room. Please pardon any blatant OOC-ness anyway…and let me know about it!

Concept is simple; Eames obviously had worked with Cobb and Arthur before the inception. It just made me wonder what exactly the relationships would've been like at first. Mainly focusing on Arthur and Eames in this one; no slash implied unless you REALLY want to see it that way. IMHO, these two just have a rather bizarre friendship.

Christopher Nolan, in all his brilliance, owns Inception. I just own my brain and the ideas it comes up with. =3

The warehouse, no matter how long they had been gone, always felt welcoming. It wasn't difficult to keep the rent paid for the place and no one felt compelled to barge in like often happened in houses or supermarket restrooms. Though they did their real work 'on the field', the warehouse was crucial for planning and testing. In their profession, one couldn't put three people to sleep safely without knowing first that the sedative worked. They had to gather information about the subject, make a game plan, think through the worst-case scenarios a few times, learn the design of the levels…none of which could very easily be done while trying to convince their target to stay unconscious. Arthur let himself lean back in the chair he sat in, examining the overhead lights. It hadn't taken long to set up their 'headquarters' again; the various lawn chairs were back in place, the briefcase sat next to the whiteboard - locked, of course - and, as usual, Cobb was late. Everything was back to what had become their normal.

It had been less than a year since Mal's death. The entire thing had shaken the extractor hard - as was to be expected - and the murder charges had sent him on the run. Arthur hadn't heard from his partner until the month before when Cobb came across something that he apparently couldn't handle without a point man. From he could tell by the vague conversation over the phone, Cobb had managed a few quick extractions alone - ones simple enough to only need one man and that paid well enough to keep him in a hotel room. Now, though, they needed information. They needed details on the mark's life, his habits, his history - they needed a point man. It wasn't anything to complain about. Having to find work that didn't have to do with extraction was a bit difficult. He didn't exactly have experience in much besides digging up dirt on practically any name they gave him. Cobb had once jokingly suggested he could go into the FBI but that wasn't too likely - he wasn't positive but there was a good chance that the FBI didn't appreciate men with records of theft, kidnapping, and one murder. None of them could be proven, of course, but the idea was there.

The sound of the lock turning made Arthur look around, one hand automatically twitching toward the gun at his belt. Cobb was the only other person with a key, but paranoia won out all the same. It was only when the blonde man stepped inside, nodding quickly to his partner, that the tension vanished.

"Any tails?" Cobb shook his head, shrugging off the dripping jacket he wore and tossing it unceremoniously onto a nearby chair.

"Not that I saw. Thanks for setting up - the taxis apparently don't like rain any more than I do." Arthur nodded and any reply was lost as he noticed someone else closing the door behind them. He wasn't as tall as Cobb - not very surprising - but obviously carried himself with a good deal of confidence that was thrown off only slightly by his obvious unfamiliarity with the place. His dark brown hair was slicked to one side and a small part of Arthur's mind wondered what it was with this job and people gelling their hair. As Cobb hadn't acknowledged the stranger's presence yet, Arthur glanced over at the extractor quickly.

"No problems at the airport?"

"Passport checked out. Good thing, too; it certainly cost enough." Cobb sank into a chair, looking back up at the new man as if he had just remembered that he was there. "Introductions are in order, I think. This is-"

"Eames." British accent. Where had Cobb found a Brit? "Franklin Eames." Arthur accepted the offered handshake, nodding a bit curtly.

"Tobias Arthur," he returned. "You're from the UK?"

"From there. Stationed in Kenya. For now." Eames stuck both hands into his pockets, scanning the warehouse closely. "I'd guess the States on your part; West Coast?"

"Midwest. Mainly in Paris. For now." Vague answers from both of them. Cryptic people tended to make him even more paranoid. Apparently this man was accustomed to such answers, though; he simply nodded absently and looked over at Cobb as if inviting him to break the silence. The extractor took a moment to realize it, his eyes locked on the totem he was rolling between his fingers.

"Set up the PASIV," he finally told his point man who blinked questioningly. They hadn't even gone over the job yet. The unspoken question was answered a second later, however, and it wasn't an answer he had been expecting; "We'll take Eames through the basics today."

"The basics?" Arthur repeated incredulously. "Of extraction?" Cobb nodded, pushing himself to his feet again. He never seemed able to sit still for very long these days.

"He's coming with us." The statement was met with a heavy silence as the blonde man retreated to the other room. After a slight hesitation, Arthur followed, glancing back once at Eames who had begun to examine the papers scattered across one table. They were old - blueprints saved from the last job - but it introduced an automatic twinge of worry to see someone else with their work.

"He's coming with us?" There seemed to be a lot of repeating things recently. "Into the dream?" Cobb turned, arms crossing with a very small knowing smile.

"I thought you'd take badly," he muttered. "I know it's last minute, but there weren't many other options."

"But he hasn't even done this before." Arthur reminded him. "We can't have someone tagging along on this, Cobb. We could get arrested if we're successful. If you're right about Matthews, the consequences for failing…" He trailed off with a short sigh, his hands sinking into his pockets. "We don't have room for a tourist. It'll be hard enough already."

"I know." Cobb glanced back toward the main room as if hoping to see through the wall to where Eames was standing. "But he's not coming as a tourist. He's coming as our thief." Arthur blinked, an uncommon look of confusion passing over his face briefly.

"A thief? We need a thief on this?"

"We don't need a thief. We need the thief." He nodded toward the doorway. "Eames. I did research on him and he's the best - and flexible. There aren't too many men in his profession that are willing to even try something like this."

"But without the training-"

"That's why we train him." Cobb almost smirked, a small twitch of the lips that had long since given up any real smiles. "Or, more specifically, you train him. You can manage it faster than I could and we need him ready in a week." The two fell silent. Cobb was watching his partner closely as if he could make him agree with sheer willpower. After a moment Arthur sighed.

"He gets full blame if this goes south," he muttered. "I don't want to get killed because of some rookie mistake." Without waiting for the other man's response he turned on his heel and strode back into the large room, ignoring the look Eames gave him and heading straight for the PASIV.

"Everything alright, then?" the British man asked, strolling to stand beside Arthur as he opened the silver case.

"Of course." He kept his eyes on the red LED lights as he set the time and dosage, only looking up once the slight hiss indicated the vials of sedative were locked securely in place. "Have a seat." Eames shrugged lightly, sinking into one of the lawn chairs and letting himself recline. Arthur settled himself onto the one beside him, lifting the PASIV to rest in the middle. "I'll explain something quickly; Cobb is our extractor. You, apparently, are our thief. I'm the point man. I take whatever insane ideas the rest of the team thinks up and find a way to make them work. For now, however," he slid the small needle into his arm, gesturing for Eames to do the same, "I'm your trainer. The best way to learn about extraction is to just jump right into the dreams. If we can get you prepared quickly, we can actually get some work done."

"Fair enough." The thief barely flinched as he connected himself to the machine and Arthur vaguely wondered what previous experience with needles he had. "What exactly are we doing?" It was easier not to answer that question. The point man glanced over the device by his side again quickly verifying the settings before looking back up at Eames.

"You ready?"

"I would assume, but for what-" His question was cut off as Arthur pressed the button, the usual hiss seeming to echo through the room. He let himself lie back and his last view of the warehouse was of Cobb leaning in the doorway, a slightly wary look in his eyes before he felt himself being swallowed by sleep.

Sorry this is so short. More like a prologue than anything else. x3

Let me know how it is so far! Hopefully I can get the next bit up soon - I have the basics of what happens written in a notebook already. I just have to flesh it out more. (For example, this entire chapter was written as like…less than 20 lines on notebook paper.)

Reviews are absolutely adored. Tell me if I fail at the characters and give me any ideas you might have! ^^ I'm totally winging this.

Many kudos to ya, and long live the dream team! (Pun totally intended.)

~Waggy