Inception: The Beginning

A/N: Greetings! For those of you familiar with my Supernatural fanfics, I'm taking a break from them to post some other stuff that I've been working out, and I will return with the season 2 fanfics. Anyhow, this involves Inception and slight crossovers with Batman and Doctor Who, and this also has an original character named Emma, so no flaming me about her, okay? On with the story!

Read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Inception, Batman, or Doctor Who. I only own the characters that I created.

PRELUDE: DREAMS

When I was a little girl, I used to dream about an unusual and amazing man that traveled through time and space in an impossible box that was bigger in the inside then on the outside; this man called himself the Doctor and whenever I was with him, he would have different companions, and he himself would change his appearance from time to time.

Whenever I would appear in his box, he would smile and greet me by name with a hug, calling me his dream child; as I grew older the dreams of the Doctor would come less and less until I was thirteen years old, and they stopped altogether.

At first I was disappointed, but after a while, I forgot about the dreams completely, and I moved on with my life; then one night, the dreams started up again when I was nineteen years old, and once again the Doctor was different, but in a way that had me worried for his sake, and yet he was still the same man when he greeted me by name with a hug, calling me his dream child.

While the dreams didn't come as often as they had when I was a child, I was glad to have them again, and that was fine with me; however, little did I know, however, my dream ability was drawing the attention of people who wished harm to the Doctor, and that my talent with dreams would throw me into a strange new world that would change everything forever.

My name is Emma Pepper, and these are my adventures.

Emma Pepper was having a bad month and it didn't look like it was going to get any better any time soon; two months ago, she'd discovered that her boyfriend, a handsome British man named Eames was actually a con-artist, and had been using her to gain access to the Pepper family fortune.

The git had managed to escape, after her brothers had roughed him up and had thrown him into the manure heap on the farm, and she'd vowed that she wouldn't date again for a full year.

'Course that was easier said then done when one was attending college in Paris, France, and there were a lot of good-looking guys walking around; she'd managed to keep her promise to herself and focused on her school work instead, only for this to lead to a whole new set of problems.

Someone was taking credit for her work and Emma was about ready to scream; it had started at the start of February with a classmate discovering that someone had put their name on his work, and it'd taken three days to get the whole mess straightened out.

Since then nearly every student getting a major in interior design, were becoming victims of the mysterious person, and now her own work was being targeted, and it was looking like there was no stopping it.

'I hate my life,' Emma thought, sipping her caramel mocha gloomily; she was at the café on campus, and she was idly doodling on a napkin. 'It sucks.'

"I heard that the recruiters are on campus again," a redheaded girl told her friend as they walked by. "And rumors has it, they're trying to find the credit-theft person."

"I hope they find the jerk," said her friend, "then they can use him as a test subject for their program."

Emma quietly snorted at the mention of the "Program", and smirked as she imagined the thief strapped down on a table in a dark room, surrounded by shadowy figures armed with surgical equipment. 'If only…'

The program that the girls had mentioned, had started out as a whispered rumor close to two years ago that the U.S. military had started a secret program involving dreams, and that they were recruiting architects to build those dreams for the soldiers to train in before going into actual combat.

Emma hadn't paid much attention to the rumors, although she'd seen Professor Stephen Miles talking to men in suits a few times, and several of his top students have, reportedly, joined the program.

Deciding that she didn't want her mocha anymore, Emma crumbled up the napkin, and was about to stand up when someone called her name.

"Emma!"

Looking around, she saw a young lady heading over to the table, and she smiled. "Hi, Mal."

Mallorie "Mal" Miles returned the smile and they exchanged a hug. "Hi, I've been looking for you," she said and they sat back down.

"You found me," Emma responded, glad to see her childhood friend, who was attending the college to be an architect and had been really busy lately. "What have you been up to lately, Mal? You and Cobb elope?" she teased, making her friend flush and protest.

Dominick "Dom" Cobb was a fellow architecture student, and he and Mal had been dating close to a year now.

"Stop teasing, Emma," Mal scolded, but she was smiling, too; it was a running joke that she and Cobb should run away and elope somewhere like Las Vegas. "Besides, there's someone that I want you to meet, sweetie."

"Who?" Emma asked.

"A friend of Dom's," Mal answered cryptically. "A psychology student and-"

"-and I bet he's a good-looking guy," Emma interrupted, annoyed. "Mal, you're trying to set me up on a date aren't you?"

Mal flushed again and Emma sighed, now exasperated. "Sweetie, it's too soon."

"Emma, it isn't," Mal protested. "It's been two months and you need to get back into the game. Hear me out, please," she requested, and her friend reluctantly nodded. "His name is Arthur Gordon, he is good-looking, he attends the college, and he and Cobb have been friends for years."

Emma nodded. "All excellent points," she conceded, "but, Mal-"

"I know about your promise, Emma," Mal countered, "but you'll want to break it when you meet him. Come on." And she stood.

"Wait, now?" Emma asked, surprised and slightly alarmed.

"Yes." Mal pulled her out of her seat, and they hurried off.

Moments after they were gone, a figure approached the table and picked up the crumbled napkin that Emma had forgotten to toss; unfolding it, the figure stared at the drawing, gently folded and pocketed the napkin, and walked away.

Ten minutes later, Mal dropped Emma off at a different café, that Arthur would meet her there, and that she and Cobb would join them later; now Emma was seated at an outdoor table with a peppermint tea to calm her nerves, and was wondering whether she was making a mistake by breaking her own promise.

'I don't even know what he looks like,' she thought glumly and began idly doodling on her napkin again. 'I only known his name, that he's good-looking, and that he's a psychology student.'

Arthur Gordon wasn't big on dating and yet, here he was, heading to a café for a blind date; he was tall, good-looking with dark hair that he kept slicked back, dark eyes, and typically wore a nice shirt with a tie and sometimes with a vest or sweater, nice slacks, and nice shoes.

Since coming to the college to work on his psychology degree, he'd only been on a date once or twice with a girl, who'd spent most of the time primping her hair or fixing her makeup.

So, it'd came as a surprise when Cobb showed up after his class on "The affect dreams have on mental health," and told him that he was going on a blind date with a lady he knew.

Arthur hadn't been too keen, but Cobb had insisted, and here he was, heading to a café to meet a lady, who Cobb said is lovely, is an interior design student, and has to a habit of idly doodling on napkins.

'Yeah, that's plenty to go on,' he thought sourly, crossing the street to the café; he and Cobb had been friends since high school, but that didn't mean that Cobb didn't frustrate him by being cryptic. 'Might as well get this over with.'

Arthur walked up to the café and scanned the outside tables until he saw a dark-haired woman drawing on a napkin with a pen. 'That should be her.' And he headed over to the table. "Excuse me," he said politely, getting her attention. "Are you Emma Pepper? My friend Dom Cobb-"

"I am," Emma confirmed with a small smile, "and you must be Arthur; sit down, please."

Arthur did so and nodded to the napkin, which now had an unusual box-shaped drawing on it. "Nice drawing, is it for a class project?"

Emma glanced at the napkin and flushed. "No, it's just a random thing," she said quickly, stuffing the napkin into the pocket of her coat. "So, what did Cobb tell you about me?"

Soon, they were chatting about their friends, their schoolwork, and a lot of other stuff so that they grew comfortable with each other.

"Well, you two make a lovely couple."

Startled, Arthur and Emma looked up and saw Cobb and Mal heading toward them. "Hey."

Grabbing a pair of chairs, the couple joined them at the table. "So, how's it going?"

"Great."

"We actually have a lot in common."

Cobb and Mal were glad to hear that, and they noted that they were seated closer together, and that they were starting to touch hands. All positive signs.

"That's wonderful," said Mal, pleased, and glanced at her boyfriend, who nodded. "We do have another reason for getting together like this."

"What reason is that?" Arthur asked.

"I'm sure that you both have heard the rumors about the program started by the U.S. military, right?" Cobb asked, and their friends nodded. "Well, the rumor about architecture students being recruited is true, and both Mal and myself are in the program."

Both Emma and Arthur were surprised by the news. Their friends were involved with the dream program?

"So, that's why I haven't seen you around, Mal?" Emma asked, stunned. "Wow."

"Cobb, if you both are involved with that program, why are you telling us?" Arthur inquired. "Won't you get in trouble?"

"No, those in charge are aware and we have permission," Cobb said reassuringly. "You see we're hoping to have you both join the program."

Arthur and Emma exchanged bewildered looks. "Why us?"

"In the few years that the program has been running, those in charge have decided that they need to expand the area of recruitment beyond architects," Mal explained. "Plus, they're concerned about the psychological effect that the dream-sharing might have on those who go under."

"What kind of side-effects?" Arthur asked.

Cobb shrugged. "Not really sure," he admitted, "but someone familiar with psychology should be able to figure it out."

"Cobb, assuming that I even say yes, why me?" Emma asked. "I know plenty of other interior designers who are even better then I am."

"But none with your skill and talent, Emma," Cobb pointed out with a sly grin.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Okay, enough with the Cheshire cat smile, I'll hear you out before I give an answer."

"What is the dream-sharing exactly?" Arthur asked, getting back on track.

"Dream-sharing is where there is a dreamer and a subject," Mal responded. "The dreamer creates and controls the world of the dream, and the subject populates that world with people and information."

"And the challenge of creating a dream that's realistic enough to convince the subject that the dream is real," Cobb added. "That's what we're doing for the soldiers, creating a world that's real enough for them to train in before going on their tour of duty."

"Wow, you must need a lot of detail in order to create such a realistic dream," Emma commented.

"Not really," Cobb countered. "You see, our dreams seems real while we're in it, and it's only when we wake up that we realize things were strange."

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, I guess that's true, but to do what your suggesting still requires details to make the illusion work."

"Normally yes," Mal agreed. "That's what our minds do naturally, but what we do is completely different."

"Let me ask you both a question," Cobb requested. "You never remember the beginning of your dreams do you?" and both Emma and Arthur nodded. "You just turn up in the middle of what's going on."

Emma shrugged. "Pretty much."

"So…how did you both end up at this café?" Cobb asked.

"Well, Mal drove me-" Emma began and then stopped as confusion etched itself across her face. "Wait…"

"How did you get here, Arthur?" Mal asked.

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, I walked h-" he paused and the same confusion crossed his face. "I-I can't remember…"

They looked around at the café and the people among them, and realization dawned on them. "A-are we dreaming?"

"Stay calm," Mal advised, noting that Emma was starting to breath hard with her eyes going wide, and smiled slightly when Arthur took her hand, and this calmed her down. "We're actually asleep in the living room of my parents' home, and this is your first lesson in dream sharing."

"We've been dreaming this whole time?" Arthur asked, earning two nods. "Why trick us? Why not just ask?"

"I asked the same thing after my first time," Cobb agreed, checking his watch. "And it looks like time is just about-"

Emma opened her eyes and found herself on the floor with her head resting on several pillows; hearing a hissing sound, she turned her head slightly and saw a sliver briefcase with some kind of machine with four sets of tubing running from it, and attached to her right wrist was a set of tubes.

"Welcome back," said a man with white hair and blue eyes as he knelt in front of her and began removing the tubes. "Hello, Emma."

"Miles?" Blinking Emma sat up and felt a light touch on her left hand and she turned to see Arthur lying next to her, and she squeezed his hand in return, getting a smile in response; dream or not, she definitely liked him, and it was obvious that Arthur liked her, too.

"That went well," Cobb commented from across the room, already removing his tubes with a satisfy expression, and Mal was doing the same. 'Managed to go the full five minutes without having the dream collapse."

Emma and Arthur exchanged bewildered expressions. "Five minutes? But it was more like an hour."

Miles chuckled, putting away the tubing. "How about we continue this discussion over lemonade?"

A while later, the group was seated around the kitchen table with glasses of cold lemonade and several plates of cookies.

"So five minutes in the real world gives us an hour in the dream?" Arthur asked, trying to make sense of what Cobb and Mal were calling dreamtime.

Cobb nodded. "When you dream, your mind functions more quickly, so time seems to pass more slowly."

Emma shook her head, amazed. "You two have a crazy job."

Mal giggled. "Yes, it can be."

"Cobb, earlier you said something about being glad that the dream didn't collapse," said Arthur. "What'd you mean by that?"

"The first time I realized that I was in a dream, it collapsed, and I got brained by a cinderblock," Cobb answered. "And in a dream, the pain is very real."

Arthur and Emma grimaced. "So, if we die in a dream-?"

"You'll wake right up," Mal responded. "No matter how much time is left on the timer."

"Wow," said Emma, clearly overwhelmed. "Um, I-I need some air to process all of this." She then stood and headed out to the back porch.

Arthur watched her go and, after considering everything, also stood. "I need some air, too."

"Uh, Arthur," said Cobb, "it's usually best to not disturb Emma when she's like this."

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing, Cobb," Arthur assured him with a small smile, and headed outside.

It didn't take Arthur very long to find Emma standing on the back porch with her back to the house, and he took a moment to admire her appearance and the way she carried herself. "A lot to take in, huh?"

Emma nodded, not looking at him. "Yeah…maybe too much," she admitted, turning to face him. "Being in that dream and not realizing it, it's scary." 'And it's different from the dreams involving the Doctor.'

"And yet there's nothing else quite like it," said Arthur, moving closer to her. "No paper, no pens…"

"Just pure creation," Emma agreed, noticing for the first time that Arthur was wearing a spicy pine-like cologne that reminded her of the family farm, and she liked it. "Nice cologne."

"Thanks," Arthur said with a smile. "It's to cover up the fact that two of my roommates are constant smokers and won't do it outside," he explained, noticing that she wore perfume that was a mixture of roses, vanilla, and peppermint. "Nice perfume," he commented, gently touch her hand.

"Old family recipe," Emma said, smiling. "And it helps my roommate, who is working two jobs and is pregnant; basically it calms her down and keeps her sane."

"I believe it," said Arthur. "Still scared?"

Emma shrugged. "A little. Arthur are you interested in the program?"

"Honestly, I'm more interested in you, Emma," Arthur admitted, "and being able to share dreams with you would be a nice bonus."

Emma flushed, realizing that he was flirting, and was voicing her own thoughts. "I'm touched, Arthur, but you barely know me, and I barely know you."

Arthur smiled and gently touched her chin. "Emma, we just spent an hour in a dream getting to know each other, and that part was real for us both."

Emma stared into his eyes, her heart racing, and she knew he was right; it had been real, dream or not. "Fair point," she admitted. "Want to let Cobb and Mal know?"

"Not yet," Arthur whispered and gently kissed her lips; Emma froze for a moment and then relaxed, kissing him back, her promise now broken and forgotten.

When they returned to the kitchen, they flushed at Cobb and Mal's knowing smiles, and they sat back down at the table.

"So," said Emma, "where do we sign up?"

They were in.

Elsewhere, the figure from the café went to the harbor, boarded a fancy ship, and present the folded napkin to a tall man with graying brown hair, icy blue eyes, icy blue eyes, a brown beard that was also showing signs of gray, and was dressed in a severe black suit. "A sketch from the child, sire."

The man took the napkin, carefully unfolded it, and gently lay it on the table, examining the drawing: stark against the whiteness of the paper was a pepper shaker-shaped object with stick-like items sticking out in places, drawn in blue ink.

"She's the one," he said with a cultured accent. "Keep an watch on her," he ordered, and the figure left; carefully he framed the napkin, and smiled.

The dream child had been found.

A/N: Sorry, ladies, but my OC is keeping Arthur to herself, and let's see who can guess what Emma was drawing on those napkins. R&R everyone!