A.N: And a second short very very silly story to celebrate the end of the semester.
Disclaimer: I don't own Inception. I don't own the lyrics of "Secrets" by One Republic that created this title. I also don't own the song "Hum Along" by Ludo, but I like the idea of Arthur singing it to Eames.
gonna give all my secrets away
Ring! Ring!
Ariadne was in bed.
Ring! Ring!
No, no, she had been busy working on some notes, looking over some blueprints for her latest job. Ariadne had fallen asleep at her desk. She could feel the table underneath her cheek, feel the papers she might have drooled on while sleeping. Ariadne squinted her sleep-gummed eyes at the spot where she had pillowed her head on top of her folded arms, patting the paper and finding it to be dry. She was pleased because she hadn't been looking forward explaining why there was a suspicious stain decorating this or that feature of the blueprint she would later be building from.
Her cell phone rang again, persistently calling out to her from the far side of the table. The screen glowed and informed her that not only was it three a.m. but that it was Arthur who was calling her.
She jumped to attention, not wanted to have to wait for Arthur to leave a voicemail- there had to be a very good reason for why Arthur was calling her. They weren't even working the same job; if he was calling her it was imperative that she answer him! He could be calling her to give her a warning; that a hit had been taken out on her or that her current team was going to double-cross her. That was why it was always a good idea to answer a call from Arthur.
Ariadne stretched out her arm and fumbled with her phone, sending it spinning as it still alerted her of the incoming call. She grabbed for the phone and answered, pressing the phone to her ear while clearing her throat, trying to sound less sleep-drunk.
"Yes?" Ariadne said, kicking herself for not recalling Arthur's love of proper phone call etiquette. "Hello, Arthur! How are you doing? Are you calling to warn me of an assassination or betrayal?"
Arthur was silent for a moment. He coughed and then said, almost in a hushed tone, like he was confessing. "Before I ever started dreamshare, I wanted to be in a rock band."
She wasn't sure if she misheard the point man. He couldn't possibly have meant to say 'be in a rock band'. Maybe she was wrong.
"Pardon?" She said, trying to be more alert, but pulling her totem out of her pocket, placing it on the table, and then tipping it over so it fell. Weighted just so, her golden bishop totem fell with a satisfying thunk that assured her that this was reality. Arthur was really telling her about how he had once wanted to be in a band.
"I wanted to play guitar," Arthur hummed to himself, adding, "or drums. I can play plenty of instruments but I really like to play the guitar. So, when I was younger I wanted to play in a garage band."
Ariadne couldn't help herself from asking, "And why didn't you?"
"School," Arthur sighed, as if he were repeating what someone else, maybe a parent or a principal had said in the past. "It was clearly more important than finally finding a regular bass guitar player."
Ariadne let the stunned silence grow naturally. She wasn't sure how to say to Arthur, That's nice, but why are we talking about garage bands you didn't get to play in? or Are you just winding me up? Am I really about to get visited by some assassin?
She said neither and waited to see if Arthur was going to say anything else.
"Sorry, it's so late. From your last email it sounded like you wanted to talk about the maze you're working on?"
Ariadne blinked down at her blueprints, not sure if she had the heart to tell Arthur that she had already solved the problem a few hours ago.
"Sure, sure," she lied, "I have a few ideas that I think will work, but I'd like a second opinion."
Arthur grunted to himself, maybe nodding his agreement on his end of the phone, sitting in front of his laptop working late into the night. But now, Ariadne couldn't help but think of Arthur differently- that he wasn't still buttoned up in a suit or had his hair severely slicked back. That maybe Arthur was wearing a band t-shirt, his hair a mess of dark unruly curls, and that a guitar was sitting in the corner, having been lovingly dusted and maintained.
"Tell me what you've got so far," Arthur said. And then, they got to work on problems that Ariadne had already solved, not that Arthur really needed to know that.
She wasn't sure if she was expecting it, but after Arthur's late night confession, she had noticed other offerings.
It was like her former team had sat together in a room, had some coffee, and decided that after what happened during the inception, it was probably better if they just told Ariadne all of their secrets upfront.
Ariadne had run into Yusuf after her last job was completed. Despite her having solved the issue with her maze, Arthur's extra insights had made it much better, earning Ariadne a bonus and nods of approval from her more seasoned dreamshare team mates.
"It wasn't like we doubted you, Ariadne." The extractor assured her, smiling wide enough to reveal that she had mistakenly gotten lipstick on her teeth. "It's just that you're so new."
At first, Ariadne didn't realize that she had almost run into Yusuf. She was too wrapped up in the mix of honest pleasure and rankling annoyance that despite her work during the inception, despite her competency, and the steadiness of her designs, people either doubted her or were shocked when she proved the stories true. She was definitely the best architect in dreamshare! Her thoughts were kind of on a Penrose Loop- a never ending cycling from her starting a job and facing low expectations to completing a job with glowing, but surprised, praise from others.
She was in the middle of puzzling a way to fix this paradox, to manipulate the architecture of her problem to find a way out of the maze, when she slammed into the chemist's back. Together, they stumbled forwards. Ariadne regained her balance but winced when Yusuf continued to fly forwards and fell to the concrete.
There was a rip, the sound of something spilling to the ground, and Yusuf's curse. The large bag of cat food he had been carrying had broke open and spilled its contents onto the street. Ariadne reached down to help Yusuf up, listening to his grouchy complaints.
"-cost me $6.99! Stupid cat food, stupid damned cats! And you," Yusuf began, looking up with a glare, trying to find the person who knocked him over. His eyes widened when he saw Ariadne.
He didn't greet her and he didn't demand an apology. Instead, he looked at her steadily and said, "I hate cats."
"But you have so many," Ariadne responded, honestly perplexed. Cats loved Yusuf and every time Ariadne had seen Yusuf during the Fischer job he had been around at least one or two cats- something that had pissed Arthur off horribly because he was allergic to them.
Yusuf was struggling to his feet, wearing bits of his other groceries. He peeled the remains of a half-eaten banana off of his jacket, grimacing at the evidence of smashed eggs that he fruitlessly brushed at with a handkerchief he had in his pocket. He obviously was either living or working near Ariadne's stomping grounds. Back in Paris to confer with Miles, Ariadne hadn't expected to run into another person from her first job or to hear another thing that sounded like a secret.
"They follow me like I have catnip in my pockets. I hate them so, so much! Always so smug and indifferent! I'm a dog person," Yusuf complained to his old architect. Ariadne could only nod slowly.
"Me, too," she agreed. "Dogs are wonderful."
Finally, Yusuf's face brightened and he stopped talking about how he hated cats but still felt obligated to feed them when they appeared and wouldn't stop badgering him!
"Dogs are superior to cats; they aren't just loyal, they're smart, too!"
"There's a reason why a dog is man's best friend," Ariadne said.
Yusuf nodded quickly and offered, after he had a chance to take the remains of his cat food and other not-so-damaged groceries to the place he was staying, to take her to lunch.
Ariadne thought that it was a good idea, but reminded him that since she was the one to accidently make him fall, she should probably be buying. After a moment spent considering it, he agreed.
As they fell into step she couldn't help but consider several things. At the back of her mind she went over the fact that Yusuf was the second person to tell her a secret and that he really had put them in a bad situation during the inception...But how could she refuse to hang out with Yusuf if she still spoke with Cobb? And, besides that, Yusuf loved dogs, so he couldn't really be that bad. She walked him to his place and chatted with him about possible spots to go for lunch.
Ariadne wasn't surprised when she finally got her invitation to Cobb's holiday party. He said holiday because not everyone in their group celebrated Christmas. When she got to his home in California, she found evidence of that when Arthur answered the door wearing a yarmulke. He smiled and let her in, but couldn't help noticing how she stared in fascination at his white satin yarmulke.
Arthur rolled his eyes and said good-naturedly. "It's the last few nights of Hanukkah and Cobb likes to use my being Jewish as a good way to help his kids learn about other religions."
As if called by Arthur's mentioning them, both James and Phillipa appeared at the point man's side, smiling and bright eyed.
"Uncle Arthur!" They begged, reaching for his hand or for the edge of his sweater. "You promised us you would play dreidel, too."
Arthur frowned. "But isn't Eames helping?"
James shook his head, his fair hair flying from left to right. "No, Uncle Arthur! He's cheating and stealing chocolate coins!"
The point man smiled for a moment and gently reminded James, correcting him.
"No, not chocolate coins, James. They're called gelt." Arthur smirked and took their hands. "Now, just follow me over there and we'll show Mr. Eames a thing or two. First," Arthur said with a grin, "you can't cheat at dreidel because there isn't a good way of loading the wooden top. The trick would be to mark each side with the same symbol. I doubt that he's had time to do that and if he did, I'd notice."
Arthur was led away by the children who were eager to get justice or at least get some of their candy back. Or, Ariadne corrected herself, their gelt.
She was putting away her coat when Cobb appeared from where he had been busy in the kitchen, patting down the front of his shirt which was dusted with flour.
"Hey," he said, greeting her with a mostly flour free hug. "It's great to have you over."
"Sure," Ariadne said, still smiling at the image Arthur and Eames made trying to teach the children how to play dreidel.
Cobb looked over his shoulder and said, in an undertone. "It was amazing, they both came here. No fighting, no arguing…well, if you don't count Eames's opinion about Arthur's yarmulke."
Ariadne raised her eyebrows. "Really?"
Cobb nodded, but his smile was reassuring. "No, no. He didn't have any problem with it. He was delighted to see Arthur was celebrating Hanukkah! See, what Eames was really curious over was why Arthur hadn't picked a different type of yarmulke- like a Yemenite."
Ariadne was watching Eames and Arthur sitting with a coffee table between them, taking it in turns to spin the dreidel. Arthur grinned at the forger whose face fell as Arthur said, "Gimel! It's all mine!"
He got high-fives from both children. Eames displayed the empty space where his gelt used to be. "I can't play anymore- I just put in my last piece!"
Arthur took one piece out of the pot and slid it towards Eames, smiling. "That's okay. I can give you a loan."
The children laughed at Eames's determined expression as he reached for the dreidel and gave it a spin. As it twirled and twirled, Arthur nudged James in the side. "Do you remember the song I taught you?"
James nodded and immediately began to sing "The Dreidel Song", accompanied by his sister, and Arthur, and finally Eames. Before they finished the first verse the dreidel toppled and Eames stared at the symbol he ended up with.
"Shin," Arthur reminded him and leading the kids in a chorus of, "Shin, shin, put one in!"
"I'm bust," Eames said sullenly, pushing his loaned piece of candy back into the pot, raising his hands in defeat.
Arthur stood from up from his seat on the other side of the coffee table and let James take his spot. Arthur walked over to Eames and shrugged. "Take a break and let the kids play against each other- I'll get you a drink."
Less sullen, Eames gave up his seat to Phillipa and followed Arthur into the kitchen.
"What's so special about a Yemenite?" Ariadne finally asked.
Cobb smirked to himself. "It's most often decorated with a band of embroidery; mostly flowers or geometric shapes." Cobb paused and then added, "Or paisley."
At the mention of paisley, both Ariadne and Cobb began to laugh. She was feeling comfortable and at ease. So far no one had tried to offer her a secret (and she didn't think Eames's opinions over paisley decorated yarmulkes could be called a secret). It was shaping up to be a nice evening shared with friends.
And then Cobb sighed to himself and sent her a sideways glance. "It's terrible but," Cobb began.
Damn, Ariadne thought, trying to keep her face interested rather than worried.
"It's terrible, but I've come to terms with the fact that I…like trains."
Ariadne stared. For a supposed secret, this was fairly mild. Sort of. The reason why Cobb said he didn't like trains had to be linked to the way he originally got out of Limbo with his wife. Maybe this wasn't the secret yet?
Cobb shared a smile with her, checking to see if his kids were paying attention to him. They weren't, so he confided in her. "Next Fall I'm going to take my kids on a Fall Foliage train tour. I've heard that it's really beautiful in the New England area."
Seeing no harm in this, except maybe for the school schedules, Ariadne nodded and told Cobb that it sounded like a great idea and that the kids would love it!
"I'm on to you," Ariadne said, after dinner, after her third glass of wine.
She wasn't quite certain how Eames came to be sitting next to her, just that she had every right to be suspicious. They were the last two at the table; Cobb, Arthur, and the kids were watching some holiday special in the living room.
Eames tried on several expressions- he tried flabbergasted, he tried amused, he tried disbelieving, and then settled on smug. The forger laughed and sang, "I've got a secret that you want to know!"
She shook her head and did her best to give him an Arthur-frown. Whatever her expression actually looked like made Eames start to chuckle, so she stopped immediately.
"I don't know what's wrong with all of you- all of you have kept telling me secrets. Even if your secrets aren't really secret! Why are you guys bothering me about it?"
Eames hummed to himself and sipped at his scotch, prolonging the moment before he had to answer her. "Well, it's all about strategy. You have proven to be uncanny about finding out secret hidden truths. The best possible thing to do is just tell you up front."
Ariadne focused and did her best to try and piece everything together. "You just said strategy. Why would you care about strategy if you just want to tell me things I'll find out anyway?" Her eyes widened. "You're trying to protect a bigger secret aren't you?"
"And now for the smokescreen," Eames said, waving his hands dramatically as if it would erase her epiphany. "Did you know that I'm actually a Philosophy professor?"
This momentarily distracted Ariadne.
She squinted at him, saying "Math isn't your best subject and your spelling isn't very good."
Eames shook his head. "There isn't much math involved in Philosophy. There's some if we're talking about probability or gambling like with Pascal's Wager!" Then Eames's mouth thinned to a forbidding line. "And I don't like my dyslexia being used against me- I'm not a stupid man, but can you imagine the difficulty I have when I must memorize the correct spelling of words to get them right?"
"But," Ariadne struggled to come up with another reason, another idea! "But how can a Philosophy professor get into dreamshare?"
Eames pouted at her, maybe a little hurt. "Hey, I took a page out of Mr. Indiana Jones's book! When I was a boy I wanted to become a gentleman adventurer. In school I loved art, psychology, and above all philosophy with a focus in metaphysics, thank you!"
"But what about the forgeries and your work in dreamshare?"
Eames sniffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I can't have hobbies? I have to be stuck in one job and one job alone, even if I display talent in another?"
He shook his head and sighed. "I never thought that I'd have to tell you to dream bigger."
Eames got up from the table, leaving Ariadne to consider this. To consider all of it- all of the little secrets she had been offered in such a short period of time. There had to be a pattern or a reason. She was going to find it, damn it!
It took her some time to map it all out. But she used color coding and lists and charts. She wrote down every little secret she had been told. For Arthur- he is Jewish and wanted to be in a rock band. For Yusuf- he hated cats and was really a dog person. For Cobb- he liked trains and wanted to take his kids on a vacation on a train. And then, finally, for Eames- he is a Philosophy professor, is dyslexic, and wanted to become a gentleman adventurer as a child.
Out of all four men, Eames gave the most secrets away. He only confirmed the idea that there was something that they were all trying to hide from her. He even used the term smokescreen as he offered her his secrets.
That made her think of subterfuge. That made her think of a deception. That made her think of a trick. Obviously it made her think of synonyms. But she was getting there; they were hiding something that was in plain sight. Something she should have seen by now…or maybe she had already noticed it?
What was the biggest secret Eames could be trying to hide that wasn't exactly secret?
And then it hit her!
She got on the phone- it was three a.m. but she didn't care. She had the idea and she wasn't going to let it go for anything. She called the one person Eames would probably be protecting in this situation. While she was sitting at her desk, leaning back in her chair, she dialed the number she wanted.
Ariadne called Arthur.
When he picked up after several rings and answered, Ariadne was certain that she had woke him up. "Confirm or deny; you are in a relationship with Eames."
There was a brief silence on Arthur's end of the phone. "…Yes."
"And the only reason you guys have been feeding me little secrets was because you wanted to hide this one."
There was a shuffling noise, a button was pressed, and Ariadne was put on speaker phone.
"Yes," Eames said, the voice a little distorted but clearly belonging to Eames! "There is no such thing as privacy anymore!"
"But I wouldn't have-," Ariadne had to pause there and rethink it. If she had seen enough signs that hinted at Arthur and Eames being in a relationship, would she have let it be? Maybe. But there were already plenty of little signs that they were attracted to one another- mainly the bickering and rivalry and powerful unresolved sexual tension. And lately, they had been much friendlier with one another. They hadn't been fighting or truly arguing- it's true that they debated, but both men were clearly very competitive anyway. They enjoyed challenging one another.
"No," Ariadne rephrased herself, "you're right. I wouldn't have been able to stop from digging up all the little secrets."
"Much like a terrier," Eames added.
"Don't be rude and call her a dog!" Arthur whispered sleepily.
"But Yusuf said she likes dogs!"
Ariadne didn't even know how to respond now. What was the point of this? Where was this conversation going?
"I think that the moral of this story," Eames said, "is that if we are all to get along we won't poke and prod at our personal lives. You, Ariadne won't unearth the things that are meant to stay secret. Yusuf will silently dislike cats. Cobb will be free to say 'I like trains' without something terrible happening immediately afterwards."
Arthur cleared his throat and added in his two cents. "Eames will continue playing at being a gentleman adventurer, asking me to help him grade mountains of Philosophy papers, and practice his forgery and dreamshare as a hobby. I'll help Eames learn how to properly play dreidel and, even though I'll never be in a rock band, I will always make sure to play on the guitar whichever song he wants to hear."
Ariadne couldn't help herself. "And which one did you play for him tonight?"
Arthur sighed, resigned. "I played "Hum Along" by Ludo."
"Arthur could rescue me as I go on being a gentleman adventurer. He could rescue me if I'm kidnapped by pirates." Eames chuckled to himself. "He'd find the secret map, he'd go vigilante bushwhacking through the jungles of Peru, just to save me, Ariadne."
Ariadne sighed in something that was half-contentment and half-sleeplessness. They were just too sweet.
"We'll talk again," Arthur reassured her. "We may even have a job to work on later. But, can we stop chatting like we're in junior high?"
"Mmhm," Ariadne mumbled, getting more comfortable in her chair at her desk where this story had initially begun. After a moment she ended the call and rested her head on her folded arms. She was asleep in minutes.