A.N: My third summer fic *cheers* It took awhile to complete but after going over it and adding more stuff, I think it came out pretty good. This is the fic no one asked for but secretly knew could happen- in order to be as awesome as he is, Arthur has got to be a superhero. His superhero name is intentionally silly- as is Eames's name as a villain. Have fun!
Disclaimer: I do not own Inception. I do not own the Thirty Seconds to Mars Song "Up in the Air". I do not own any superheroes mentioned in this story. I also do not own anything related to Grease- I just have Eames mock a song. I just really really wanted an excuse to write a story about Arthur being a superhero and Eames being a silly villain. And I give myself points because as many times as I wrote the word "criminal" I didn't give into Lady Gaga and attach it to "as long as you're mine."
Up In the Air (Chasing A Dream So Real)
Arthur is a superhero.
In his day to day life, people would probably laugh at the very idea of 'stick in the mud Arthur' donning a costume to fight crime. According to some, he would be more likely to put on a pair of rubber gloves and fight the grime and stains in the grout of his tiled bathroom floor.
Those people didn't understand how hard it is to be a hero. Or that he saved the pesky grout scrubbing for his sedate Sunday house cleaning. Being a hero was tough, but Arthur was willing to go through with the indignities, the misconceptions, and even the glasses that went with his 'I'm absolutely normal!' office worker disguise.
Arthur didn't like Superman- he made the job of balancing the normal day job and super-heroism look too easy. Like, changing out of his suit and glasses and getting into his sleek blue and red costume inside the small space of a phone booth, ready to fight crime within seconds! It took Arthur much longer to get himself into costume as phone booths weren't around anymore and if he relied solely on his super speed to get dressed he could end up doing something stupid like tucking his cape into the back of his pants…It had only happened once and it had taken the better part of two months of vigilant crime fighting to fix his image. After that incident he had ditched the cape and never looked back. Arthur had a full ten years of experience protecting his city as the Bespoke Avenger- a masked hero in a (you guessed it) bespoke suit.
Arthur didn't work as a reporter or photographer for the newspaper- he worked in an office. It was a boring nine to five job that involved filing, office meetings, talking at the water cooler, and waiting in line to use the office copy machine. There were some things that were comfortable about being office worker Arthur- the only enemies he had to face during those hours were the evil copy machine and the boss's secretary. The copy machine always mysteriously ran out of ink as he approached with a file folder full of documents that needed copying. And if the secretary wasn't his enemy, she at least did her level best to make Arthur feel like he was going nowhere. She also made it a point to mock his glasses and would often say that they made him look so boring. Little did she know that it was exactly what he had been going for.
He could take them off if she hated them so much.
Arthur had a reoccurring fantasy where he would take off the glasses, smile at her brightly, and melt her with his laser vision. He'd see how boring she thought his glasses were then.
It was shaping up to be a perfectly normal work day at the office- he fought with the copy machine, traded glares with Janet the secretary, and stood at the water cooler for ten minutes to chat about the new show on TV that centered on superhero gossip.
Yusuf and Ariadne were his coworkers and friends. They couldn't be happier about the latest gossip and were eager to hear what Arthur had to say about it. Arthur wanted to die, or run away, and even briefly toyed with the idea of jumping out of the nearest window. His friends didn't know that he was really the Bespoke Avenger. That he could fly, shoot lasers from his eyes, and could lift things far bigger and heavier than the large water bottles used for their water cooler. For all they knew, he was a regular guy that shopped at K-Mart, Target, or god forbid Wal-Mart. Not that Arthur believed that a man couldn't fight crime while wearing khakis; it just didn't feel right to him.
He bit down on the inside of his cheek as they began to gossip about the gossip!
"Isn't it great!" Ariadne gushed. "The Bespoke Avenger reportedly has a crush on the Fabulous Forger!"
Arthur wanted to roll his eyes. He wouldn't say that he had a crush on the Fabulous Forger. He sympathized with him a little- the man's name sucked. Before he was the Fabulous Forger, he was just the Forger. A villain that was adept at all sorts of forgery and a master of thievery. But there was nothing as crippling to a hero or villain than to have the public screw up their name.
It was all caught on live TV- a reporter had managed to put one of the Forger's victims in front of the camera to tell her story. She had been young, a little uppity, but not very upset that the Forger had stolen several expensive paintings that had been in her family for years. She was more offended that when she had caught him stealing the expensive paintings, he hadn't batted an eyelash as she confessed her love and admiration to him. Arthur doubted the woman's sincerity as she began to cry- first, real tears aren't that dainty. She didn't even mess up her carefully applied makeup! In real life, mascara runs!
"And," she had said after graciously accepting the reporter's handkerchief. "He just shook his head and said, 'You're just not my type, darling!'"
Maybe it was the way that she had retold the story, the emphasis she put on the word "darling", or the bad attempt at an English accent that sounded way too effeminate. Either way, the Forger had at once been given a damning name for a villain. Immediately after this news report, the now Fabulous Forger felt the need to put in his two cents.
In order to try and clear his name, he had secured a few minutes of air-time on the same news station that had originally reported the woman's story. On that morning many years ago, Arthur had been eating cereal as the Forger appeared on the screen wearing that costume. He could have saved it- it was just a simple dark jump suit. But the man just had to have a paisley shirt on underneath…This man in a paisley shirt and jumpsuit, wearing a black domino mask similar to the one that Arthur wore, gave a speech about being who you are and not being afraid of people's opinions, and that yes, he happened to be gay and didn't appreciate walking around with fabulous tacked onto what was once a respectable name for a villain. The costumed villain looked directly into the camera that was recording him from an undisclosed location.
"And when I said she wasn't my type, it's because I already have a special someone in mind! I think that you lot know him very well- that Bespoke Avenger is the one that I want!" The Forger smirked and added in homage to Grease, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, honey."
The video feed had been cut and the screen was filled with the image of confused newscasters. Arthur had remained sitting on his couch, holding his spoon with limp fingers, helplessly blushing. He wasn't attracted to that man. Not at all. But at the time he couldn't help but be flattered.
Over the last few years he had several interactions with this Fabulous Forger. He had caught him stealing more paintings, jewels, and other artifacts. But every time Arthur as the Bespoke Avenger caught him and handed the masked man to the police, the Fabulous Forger made an impossible escape! Arthur didn't understand how he did it. It had occurred several times now and this gossip show had taken note.
"Yeah," Yusuf eagerly answered Ariadne. "They said that the reason why the Bespoke Avenger never catches the Fabulous Forger is because they use the criminal activity as a reason to see each other- like a date!"
Arthur frowned. The last time he had ran into the Fabulous Forger it was after a jewelry store heist. He had followed the man up a flight of stairs that led to the top of a steep building, certain that the thief had no way of escaping. As the Fabulous Forger clutched a handful of diamond necklaces to his chest, he smiled at the Bespoke Avenger who was clad in his tailored suit, with his dark hair slicked back, and domino mask in place.
"You look as lovely as always, darling," the Fabulous Forger said with a smile. "Would you like to go to dinner with me after this?"
As the Bespoke Avenger, Arthur refused to notice how his heart fluttered at the idea of a date. It had been a ridiculously long time since he had a date- either as his civilian self or as a formerly caped crusader! "The only date you have is with the police and a judge!"
The Fabulous Forger's shoulders sank a little. But, he brightened up a little more as he looked over his shoulder and noticed how close he was to the edge of the tall building's roof.
"Okay, maybe next time," he said cheerfully before dropping the jewels and falling backwards.
The Bespoke Avenger's response was automatic. He lunged forwards with a burst of speed and grabbed for the first thing he could reach as he was half-hanging over the side of the building, looking down at the busy nighttime rush of traffic below. He managed to grab the Fabulous Forger's ankle because it would have been tragic and cruel to grab for the man's poorly tied boot and have him fall to his death. Still swinging from side to side, the Fabulous Forger looked at him from his upside down position. He was giving the Bespoke Avenger a shocked smile.
"I'm a gambling man but I was only fifty percent sure you'd try and catch me!"
The Bespoke Avenger had yanked the man back onto the roof top with one hand and glared at him.
"That was very stupid. Very very stupid. What would you have done if I couldn't get to you in time? Do you have a parachute, a set of climbing tools, or do you think that you can fly?"
Safe on the roof, the Fabulous Forger laid on his back to stare up at the starry night sky that framed the Bespoke Avenger who loomed over his prostrate form. The Fabulous Forger began to laugh.
"No, love. I can't fly. But I know that you can!"
The sound of a police helicopter interrupted their conversation and gave the young hero the perfect out- as the police were coming to collect the Fabulous Forger, the Bespoke Avenger was free to leave. He had walked to the edge of the rooftop and then jumped- after a moment he soared up and away from the situation, but couldn't quite free himself from the charged sensation of the chase and the Fabulous Forger's willingness to gamble with his own life as long as the Bespoke Avenger was there. As he flew away, it gave Arthur a very strange feeling; on the one hand it made him want to murder the criminal but on the other, the man's unwavering trust in him left him confused and maybe a little charmed! But he was never ever going to say that out loud.
"Arthur?" Ariadne was saying as she waved her hand in front of his eyes. No doubt he was sporting a vacant day dreamer's gaze. It was already making both Yusuf and Ariadne smirk knowingly at him.
"As you were lost in dreamland, eager listeners are dying to know," Yusuf said in a TV announcer's voice, "After a full minute of brooding silence, which one were you fantasizing about getting married to?"
Arthur refused to say anything in response to that question. He smartly turned on his heel and stomped away. He also refused to acknowledge that he had once again, blushed at the thought of the stupid "I'm going to gamble with my life" Fabulous Forger.
Days later, Arthur got the message during his lunch hour that there was trouble brewing in his beloved city. Now-a-days, there was an app for everything. On his smartphone he had several apps that he enjoyed, but the most useful one was Crime Stoppers. By buying this app and putting it on his phone, he would be alerted via text message about the latest criminal activities; whether it was the standard purse snatcher or bank robber, environmental disasters that covered everything from fires, floods, and meteor strikes, and the rare cases of mad scientists or evil genius-types scaring citizens with their new inventions or ray guns. It was the smartest dollar he had ever spent, and it gave him a slight edge when it came time to do a little crime stopping of his own as the Bespoke Avenger!
He couldn't be like Superman- that guy had his fingers on the pulse of what was up in Metropolis while he worked for the Daily Planet. And Spider-Man? According to some comics and cartoons, he worked as a photographer for the Daily Bugle. All Arthur had to go on were the texts he would receive and the trouble he would occasionally stumble into. Since he was at work, he had made preparations for this. He ditched his half-finished lunch in the break room and ran to where the employee lockers were kept. After looking over his shoulder and quickly opening his locker, he pulled out the bespoke suit and carried it to the men's bathroom by its hanger and held the shoes that were a part of his costume in his other hand. He hadn't thought to bring hair gel with him, so he was kind of screwed there.
It didn't matter- he stepped into the restroom and picked the handicapped stall. He dressed quickly, slipped on his domino mask, placed his glasses on top of the pile of civilian clothing he held against his chest, and then open the stall's door.
As luck would have it, he opened it just as Yusuf walked into the restroom.
There was a beat of silence so profound that he was certain he could hear a pin drop, not that he couldn't do that normally. There was something about language that made some superhero stuff seem natural- and if that was the case, they wouldn't be called superheroes, would they?! Arthur felt that it was very likely he was going to have a panic attack. It wouldn't look right at all if anyone, even Yusuf, caught sight of the Bespoke Avenger working himself up into a fit.
"Are you hyperventilating?" Yusuf asked curiously, taking a careful step closer to the costumed Arthur.
Arthur seemed shake himself and shot a look at Yusuf that made the man freeze. Arthur stopped, checked himself in the mirror, and nodded his own approval.
"Can I trust you to keep this secret, Yusuf? You won't tell anyone what you have seen today- you won't write about it in your blog, sell it to that damned gossip show you and Ariadne love so much, or even tell our boss?"
When Yusuf nodded sharply, Arthur breathed a quick sigh of relief.
"Wonderful- if I could just hand you my clothes I really need to get out there and check out what's happening at this restaurant- it sounds like someone's taken it over!"
Yusuf accepted the bundle of clothing and nodded again.
His silence unnerved Arthur. "Are you sure that you're okay? I know it's a shock, but-," Arthur was cut off by Yusuf's sudden reply.
"You aren't going to break me like a toothpick for finding out?"
"No," Arthur frowned at him. "What kind of superhero do you think I am?"
"Can I be your sidekick?"
Arthur blinked…he'd always wanted one, but it was a tough market to shop in. It was hard to find the right person who could be your crime fighting partner and maybe the one who would take up your mantle once you died…
"Maybe we can talk about it later," Arthur hedged as he moved around Yusuf. The man watched him with wide eyes.
Arthur used his super speed to run the hell out of there before the man asked for something like an autograph or he ran into someone else who he worked with. Or, god forbid, his boss.
Not many people asked, but if they were to question Arthur about how he became a superhero he would have mentioned that he studied for the position. He was sure that they would mock him a little, but while he had been born with these special abilities there was a need to refine them. He went to a special school to learn about being a hero, what the rules were, the codes of conduct, and so on and so on. He even had his framed diploma hidden away in a safe!
One of the first lessons Arthur learned involved hero and villain relations. It had been carefully explained that not all heroes and villains had to hate each other. Some had to join up against a big enemy that threatened both and sometimes one defected to the side of the other. It wasn't unheard of for a hero to join a villain in a life of dastardly crime or for a villain to turn to a life of dealing justice and team up with a hero. Arthur honestly had no idea that this was going to happen to him.
If other heroes that experienced it told the truth, they would have said the same thing.
It was the closest thing to an urban legend that superheroes had- for example it could go like this:
So and so heard it from so and so who actually heard it from a friend of a friend. But that friend really caught the news from their mailman six months ago who happened to mention that he heard it from this chick named "Lucille". It can also be argued that "Lucille" made the best pancakes and experienced this odd event while serving one villain and one superhero breakfast at the crummy diner she barely scraped a living at.
You get the picture…
When the Bespoke Avenger used "Superhero Entrance # 5: Breaking down wall with bare hands", he found that the restaurant wasn't in any real danger. The waiters and waitresses, the hostess, and busboys all stopped what they were doing to stare at him.
The Bespoke Avenger was tempted to turn around, see if he could repair some of the damage he did to the wall, and then run before someone began to take pictures- a series of flashes from the cell phones of seated customers forced him to freeze and attempt to not do the first thing he thought of- as a child he had been trained to smile for pictures, but tried to get out of the habit when he got a lot of attention for his acts of heroism. The ghost of his smile was put to rest as he laid eyes on the man who, according to the Crime Stopper text message, "took over a restaurant". Of course, it was the Fabulous Forger who waved to him from a table near the center of the large room.
The Bespoke Avenger scowled and stalked towards that table, ignoring the flashing of the cell phone cameras and the murmur of the diner's excited conversation. He noticed that the Fabulous Forger wasn't in costume today- that he had actually chosen to wear a rather lovely suit coupled with his own domino eye mask. The masked criminal was passing a pen to the slightly flustered waiter.
"I hate it when my pen runs out of ink as I'm writing- and here's my guest!"
Because of this announcement, the white jacketed waiter was distracted enough to not notice how the Fabulous Forger lifted his wallet. Arthur didn't even have to say anything- he didn't have to pull one of his Bespoke Avenger lines. Children could create their own like a crazy superhero themed Mad-Lib! Like, "I, superhero's name, will verb criminals in the name of noun." It was an idea that Arthur had read about in the newspaper and aside from the question about whether superheroes would benefit monetarily from the sale of such word games, examples written by children were included in the article. Arthur had one posted to his fridge. It said, "I, Bespoke Avenger, will hogtie criminals in the name of custard."
It was unclear whether the Fabulous Forger believed that the Bespoke Avenger was going to hogtie him in the name of dessert, right this instant. But either way when Arthur glared at him, he cleared his throat and offered the surprised waiter his wallet. When the young man in the neat white jacket scowled at him for picking his pocket, the Fabulous Forger raised his hands in mock surrender.
"You've got me!" He said dramatically, sighing heavily as the wallet was snatched away by its rightful owner. "It looks like I'm going to have to give you a big tip…" When the waiter sniffed and raised an eyebrow at him, the masked man pointed in the Bespoke Avenger's direction.
"Hey, I'm being very honest right now- if he hadn't given me that 'I'm going to hogtie you in the name of custard' look, I would have been the proud owner of a slightly used wallet!"
Arthur's face colored at the mentions of the stupid Mad-Lib that had occupied his thoughts only seconds ago. It was like he wasn't allowed to have a personal thought around this man! Not knowing what else to do in this situation, he forced himself to sit down in the chair directly across from the Fabulous Forger.
"See," the Fabulous Forger explained as the Bespoke Avenger forced himself to sit at the table. "Every time I see you, it's always about work! I'm committing the crimes and you're trying to bring justice. I like you a lot and would love to have lunch with you right now." The man spread his hands and looked around the rather expensive restaurant. "Pretty neat idea, right? Now we can actually have one of those dates people on that gossip show talk so much about!"
The Bespoke Avenger took a moment to feel very grateful that he was wearing a mask. He wanted his civilian identity to be a secret. This was just plain embarrassing.
"While that crummy gossip show may be claiming that our frequent meetings involve us dating, that doesn't mean you should cater to them!" Remembering the looks the other diners had been sending them and the pictures they had taken, he began to believe that this misconception was the only reason the restaurant hadn't exploded into a fearful hostage situation complete with officers surrounding the building. It was all just a matter of time if he was accurately gauging the number of texting diners.
The Fabulous Forger actually pouted at him!
"But I went to so much trouble to arrange this for us, darling!"
The Bespoke Avenger, who didn't really mean to say it out loud, grumbled to himself:
"If you weren't a damned criminal we could go out whenever we wanted and not be bothered!"
The Bespoke Avenger's eyes widened- his dearest wish was for a superpower that made it possible for him to time-travel or erase people's memories. But the words were out and there was no conceivable way of taking them back. His face burned and the Fabulous Forger stared at him, mouth hanging open in surprise.
"I'm willing to reform if you'd have me," the Fabulous Forger purred, reaching for one of Arthur's limp hands to press a kiss against the back, lips brushing his knuckles. "Just call me Eames, darling!"
All at once, the Bespoke Avenger felt that this was going to be too much. This wasn't supposed to happen! He felt several dozen pairs of eyes on him, watching this interaction between the Bespoke Avenger and his sort-of-nemesis the Fabulous Forger. He ripped his hand away and got to his feet, making his chair fall to the ground with a loud clatter. If he hadn't had everyone's attention before, he most assuredly had it now!
The Fabulous Forger was looking at him with raised eyebrows. It took a moment before a slow smile appeared on the man's face, making the Bespoke Avenger wish that the criminal had done something that merited getting punched. Even as he had that thought he was becoming more distracted by the Fabulous Forger's smiling mouth, entertaining the idea of pressing his mouth against those lush lips. Shaking his head, he ripped his eyes away from the sight before he gave into that desire.
It took everything he had to walk- slowly and calmly- out of the restaurant, not paying attention to how he tenderly cupped one hand in the other, cradling the spot where the Fabulous Forger had placed a kiss.
Once he was on the street, he took a running leap and was airborne. Once he was free from the ground and the pressure of gravity, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against the back of his hand- returning a kiss that he most assuredly shouldn't.
This high up, he didn't have to keep reminding himself that he was the hero, the do-gooder, the Bespoke Avenger.
He was also a man named Arthur. Denying himself was getting old.
Up in the air, he felt better. When he was a boy he had wished that he was a bird. When he dreamed it was about flying. But lately his dreams weren't about flying.
They were about the most absurd criminal he had ever had to face in his ten years as a superhero. None of the half-assed villains he came into contact with could compare with the audacity of that Fabulous Forger! His gall- "Just call me Eames, darling!"
Flying as high as was comfortable, avoiding planes with little thought, he pressed his hands against his flushed cheeks and tried to regain something that passed for control. When he thought of that man, that Eames, his blood boiled- he saw red- but he couldn't deny that he was powerfully attracted to him.
It wasn't something he could fight against; in the thousands of times he'd tried he couldn't win.
Arthur felt his hands wrap around his own neck. It was a gentle pressure that made him close his eyes and count to himself. He counted the thousands of times that he'd told himself that he couldn't breathe, that he thought he'd suffocate on those feelings. He didn't want to feel such a traitorous want. It was going to muck up all of his plans. Arthur had never wanted to fall in love. Normally, flying calmed him. But now he was full of more questions and concerns than ever.
It was time to go home. But when he arrived he couldn't sleep. He stayed awake to think.
The trouble was that as he continued to think, ideas took root.
If you weren't a damned criminal we could go out whenever we wanted and not be bothered!
And then, those ideas began to flourish.
I'd be willing to reform, if you'd have me.
Arthur hadn't expected- no, that's not entirely true. He had expected some sort of fallout from Yusuf's catching him in costume. It was nothing on Yusuf- he and Yusuf had worked the same boring job for years and years. During the long summer days spent pushing paper, suffering under in the heat when the air conditioner decided to quit, each would make comments of the "wouldn't it be nice" variety. The "wouldn't it be nice" comments were pure fancy- it was all about dreaming out loud and wishing for stuff that wasn't very likely to happen.
Wouldn't it be nice if that air conditioner were working? Wouldn't it be nice if we had girlfriends (and after a pointed look and raised eyebrow from Arthur)- scratch that, if Arthur had a boyfriend and I had a girlfriend? Wouldn't it be nice if Mr. Cobb-
That comment always drifted and hopped from simple pleasures or little concerns like: let us get ice cream, have an actual casual Friday, or didn't bring his kids to work every day.
Arthur knew that poor widowed Mr. Cobb sometimes overreached his rights as their boss. Just because they were his employees didn't mean they were also free babysitters. Now, Ariadne had never complained about watching Cobb's children- she liked Phillipa and James and didn't mind playing games with them or seeing to their needs during office hours. Quite frankly, she probably wouldn't have minded doing that sort of stuff off-hours as well. She noticed that Mr. Cobb was lonely and a little sad in that squinty way of his. Before she had decided that she wanted to get a piece of that, Arthur was worried that she might latch onto him, and if she ever found out about him being a superhero he prayed that she wouldn't try and be his Mary Jane, Lois Lane, or Selena Kyle. Ariadne was steadfast in her affection. When Mr. Cobb wasn't oblivious to her attraction he was grateful for her steadfast attention to his kids.
That didn't mean that Arthur didn't love them. They were sweet little darlings that constantly reminded him of what he was fighting for. But the situation made Arthur squirm- Cobb's wife was once Arthur's dearest friend. Even she hadn't known about Arthur's powers or wishes to fight for justice. She had been the one to get him this job, sweetly suggesting to her husband that Arthur would be perfect! After the calamity of her suicide, Arthur hadn't known what to do. After her death he had considered leaving the job she helped him get, distancing himself from people- maybe take some time off of being civilian Arthur to create his own sort of hero headquarters that wasn't quite as aloof as a Fortress of Solitude or as moody as a Bat Cave. But, for reasons he wasn't comfortable examining, he stayed.
And stayed.
And stayed.
When Arthur stepped into the office, dressed as he usually was in his khakis and button up shirts he bought off the rack at department stores, carrying his messenger bag and wearing his completely unnecessary glasses to complete the image of "boring, un-amazing, regular guy", there was a crowd of coworkers waiting for him. It turned out that his cover had been blown.
Heading the group were Ariadne and Yusuf- the former looked excited while the latter appeared to be a tad bit sick. They spoke at once with one trying to be heard over the other.
"I want to say that I knew it all along," Ariadne said, looking like she was resisting the urge to clap her hands in her excitement. "But you're very good at keeping it under wraps- remember that time you said you hurt your back lifting that jug of water for the cooler?"
Yusuf's normally tan skin looked a little green. "Oh god, please don't kill me for spilling the secret! Don't break me in half like a toothpick!"
"- I've linked together the sightings of the Bespoke Avenger with your sick days and unexplained absences and it all works. In fact," she said cocking her head to the side and looking him up and down, "I'm surprised that we didn't make the connection sooner- all we would have had to do is take a normal picture of you and draw the domino mask on…" she then showed Arthur the example that was labeled Exhibit A. She really did take a black sharpie and drew his domino mask on. This only cemented the idea in Arthur's mind that he needed to dream bigger, expand his imagination, and possibly redesign his costume…it would kill him to give up his bespoke suits though!
Yusuf's words cut through his costume themed worries.
"-was talking to this girl at the bar, and I was so happy about what I learned that I just blabbed because I wanted to feel important and look interesting!" Yusuf had edged closer, his hands raised like he was going to lay them against Arthur's shoulders. The other man's open palms flinched away before they could make contact. "She called it in to UITA, the gossip show about super heroes!" There were actual tears in Yusuf's eyes as he mentioned the superhero gossip show that tried to pass of what they gleaned as news. Well, to a lot of people the lives of superheroes qualified as news. Arthur was clearly biased.
UITA (Up in the Air- as a great many of the superheroes mentioned were frequent fliers) accepted calls, texts, and tweets as long as they featured some form of superhero interaction. Some of the people who worked for UITA would catch some of the up-and-coming heroes as they were leaving the scene of a foiled crime. Some heroes would catch a little fame that way- but in Arthur's opinion it just made them lazy. Who needed to be on TV? Who cared if so many people were following your Twitter account?
In Arthur's city, the UITA had learned to keep their distance. The number of rival superheroes was low here and they were still able to get plenty of footage. "Bespoke Avenger takes out trash!" was one caption to a video of the Bespoke Avenger literally tossing a purse snatcher into an open dumpster. He had closed the lid, and after taking off his nice jacket, sat on top of the closed dumpster to wait until the police arrived. He had sent the bill for his dry cleaning to the police, who actually paid for it- it was the least they could do considering he did much of his work for free.
Arthur looked from face to face, seeing how interested, hopeful, or even a little frightened his coworkers appeared. He kept this job specifically because he was nothing like Bruce Wayne or his crime fighting identity of Batman, meaning that he wasn't rich or given any imposing names like the "Dark Knight". In the ten years Arthur fought crime as the Bespoke Avenger, the media referred to him as a "boyishly handsome hero" a total of one hundred and four times which kind of kept him out of the brooding dark hero category. He had to work to pay his bills and his rent. Fighting crime as the Bespoke Avenger did nothing to fill the coffers- Arthur was merely frugal and kept a small savings account mentally labeled as the "Bespoke Avenger Costume fund."
Before the group of people who had worked with him for years but never gave him a second glance could converge any further, Arthur received help from an unexpected quarter.
"Work started thirty minutes ago," Mr. Dominic Cobb said, stating the obvious in a way that could make even the older members of his staff cringe. It was his ever famous, 'I know it, you know it, get to work now,' tone of voice. He needn't say anything else- the workers dispersed without so much looking over their shoulders. It left Arthur and Mr. Cobb alone.
For all of his superpowers, special abilities, and good fashion sense, Arthur felt a little worried when made to face his boss.
"Let's go to my office."
"Uncle Arthur!" two children's voices called as he walked into his boss's office.
Arthur felt a smile pricking at the corners of his lips- he should have known the children would be lurking here. And he was already going over the ideas as to why, "we've known each other for years, just call me Dom," would have allowed them to be hiding in his office when his deceased wife's oldest friend's superhero identity had been revealed.
The children didn't seem to care too much about this revelation. It wasn't news to them because they had always believed that their Uncle Arthur was some kind of superhero. The only difference was when little James begged to be lifted up into Arthur's arms to play Bespoke Avenger- to have the man swing him through the air to give him the feeling of flying as he shrieked and giggled- he asked politely that they really fly like the Bespoke Avenger.
Arthur raised an eyebrow and looked at Dom, who was trying his best not to openly stare.
"It's not safe to fly indoors, James. It's unlucky."
Phillipa frowned. Either she'd been practicing her squint or had grown into it- but whichever it was she was leveling one in his direction.
"That's about umbrellas- there's nothing unlucky about flying indoors."
Arthur knew that this was going to lead into a bid for her to have a go at playing real life Bespoke Avenger with the Bespoke Avenger.
"I'm not so sure about that, Phillipa," said Arthur, thinking about the first time he had ever experienced his powers of flight- it was an accident. He had been thirteen and woke himself up from a dead sleep to find himself floating a couple of feet off of his bed. It startled him so badly that he had lost control over it and accidentally propelled himself into the ceiling. His mother had thanked god for his thick skull and had him help pay for the Arthur-sized hole in his ceiling with money from his paper route.
Before both children could start begging, Dom called them into order. "Kids, why don't you go ahead and visit with Ariadne? I'm sure that she's up to something fun!"
The children stared at him with identical looks that said, "There is a real superhero in front of us. Nothing is more fun than this." But, eventually they slipped out after they received a hug from Arthur where he couldn't help but whisper to them, "We'll talk about flying later, okay?"
Sometimes, he felt like such a sap. Thinking of the night before, he was pretty sure that he was a sap. The updated list of his weaknesses; his kryptonite, for a lack of a better word, were:
1. That horribly persistent, Fabulous Forger- who made Arthur entertain ideas that were completely inappropriate in their superhero/villain relationship.
2. Paisley- which disturbed him, made his eyes burn, and encouraged some of his "rip off Fabulous Forger's clothes" thoughts.
3. Kids- which are too damned cute for their own good.
Before he really had gotten involved with that Forger villain, kids were at the top of his list. They tugged at his heartstrings; but it was Mal and Dom's kids that could have had the world on a string if they only thought to ask him for it. Dom may have presented the children to him in a calculated move- he may be getting ready to ask for something…or maybe he just couldn't get an actual babysitter.
When Dom offered him a chair, Arthur took it gratefully. Both men were seated with the large desk between them- after a moment a long silence grew; it stretched itself out until it touched the walls, the ceiling, and the windows. Arthur fought not to hunch his shoulders and get defensive. There was just something about being in your boss's office when they let the silence hang.
"I've got a question, Arthur."
The young superhero's shoulders straightened as he paid close attention.
"Do you honestly think that you can keep this job? Are you even happy here?"
Arthur bit his lip and ignored his first inclination to remind Dom that he had asked two questions. He didn't have to think it through. That was what all the hours spent not sleeping had been for. In all honesty with the news catching hold of his secret identity and the newest footage of his "not-a-date" with the Fabulous Forger, he didn't think he had a leg to stand on. This job was meant to give him the illusion of a boring normal life. It was meant to give him a paycheck and fill his days with mild worries like how the copy machine hates him or that Dom's secretary Janet thinks he's a loser. With his cover blown, he couldn't have conversations at the water cooler, sit in an office meeting, or even chat up that cute male barista he would see at his favorite coffee shop- the one he would always stop at on his way to the office.
It was leaving him with an odd idea. How long did he think that he was going to be able to hang onto this safe and pleasant idea? He wasn't like everyone else! He was living a double life; while pretending to be a regular Joe was comforting, being a hero was what he loved.
Arthur was frowning to himself as Dom watched him over his steepled fingers. He remembered how he had thought about quitting this job after Mal died. It was strange; he had told himself that he was going to move on- but that things had gotten comfortable and he didn't want anything new or different. He had let his civilian life go stagnant.
In his mind, quitting the job that Mal had ensured he would be approved for- the job that she would show up at randomly to visit both him and her husband with bright smiles and muffins-it wouldn't seem right! This job had so many good memories of Mal that he didn't want to let go…that if he left he would be leaving some part of her behind as well. It wasn't like she was going to come walking through the door and see that he was missing- he knew that she was never coming back.
And because of this screw up with his secret identity, it looked like he wouldn't be coming back either.
Now, he had the opportunity to do whatever he wanted. The young superhero's mind drifted back to his most recent offer…he'd been looking around for a sidekick before, but a partner would work so much better. The Fabulous Forger could very well be the one he needed. Before he could stop himself, Arthur began to smile as he remembered that the man's name was Eames.
There was a glint in Dom's eyes that Arthur caught and held. The man was smiling at him. Smiling like he had the same sort of idea. Sometimes he forgot that Dominic Cobb was like this- his wife had sang his praises to Arthur so long ago- oh, he's so intelligent, so perceptive.
If Cobb ever wanted to quit this job, he could easily find another where he could wade through the muck and mire of troubled minds- but from the heavy look around his eyes, the man wasn't completely free of his own trouble. Arthur thought of the man's interactions with Ariadne- she'd be the one to help him escape his mental labyrinth.
"You bastard," Arthur was saying, unable to stop smiling back. "You know that I can't work here! Do you know how many different lawsuits could be started within a week of me staying here? HR would have a fit with the number of complaints for sexual harassment."
"How so? You're nothing if not polite, Arthur!"
Arthur took off his glasses and folded them on the table. "I don't require glasses. I have more than perfect eyesight. It's super eyesight. Anybody could claim that I was using my x-ray vision to check out what kind of underwear they were wearing! Or, to continue the x-ray vision topic, I could be accused of stealing personal information. Everything from credit card numbers to social security numbers!"
Dom was nodding and began listing the different types of insurance they would have to get coverage for if Arthur continued working there.
"A property insurance that includes coverage of fires caused by heat vision, damage to the building from displays of super strength…" he squinted at Arthur, "You've never been caught flying under the influence, right?"
Arthur shook his head- if there was anything dumber than driving drunk, it was flying drunk. While that was an admirable idea with wonderful intentions, it wouldn't save him from what he knew was coming.
It looked like he was about to get fired.
Despite how terrible that sentence sounded, he couldn't stop smiling.
"I'm afraid that we are going to have to let you go."
"It has been a pleasure working with you, Mr. Cobb." Arthur said politely, shaking the man's hand like they would be parting ways forever. But, no. He was already certain that he would get regular calls to visit the kids or to reminisce with Dom over a beer.
The official paper work would be filled out, filed, and sealed. Dom assured him that he was entitled to his unemployment, because "The role of superhero isn't a paying job."
As he slipped out of Dom's office, Arthur's mind was on the future and a certain criminal that was interested in reforming. Those thoughts scattered when he noticed that someone was standing in front of him, blocking his path.
Yusuf had been waiting outside for him, looking just as nervous as he had before but a little less green. It was nice to know that he wasn't going to be vomited on.
"So," Yusuf began, looking for all the world like he was going to scuff his shoe on the floor like a child. "I feel terrible for what's happened."
"It's done. We can't go back and change things so it's best that we move forwards."
Yusuf wore a hurt expression. "Just like that? We aren't going to be friends anymore? Look, I said that I was sorry, and I know that it was terribly stupid- but if you give me a chance to make it right…," Yusuf paused when he noticed Arthur smiling at him.
"Calm down," he said, unconsciously moving to adjust the glasses he left on Dom's desk. When he touched nothing he paused, feeling a little silly for not remembering, but dropping his hand back down to his side any way. "We all make mistakes. I won't say that I'm not mad at you for using the My Best-Friend Is a Superhero card on a girl you met at the bar. But I'm not mad enough to snap you like a toothpick."
The look of fear melted away from Yusuf's face. He instead looked remorseful as he ran a hand through his dark curly hair. "I guess this means you won't be working here anymore."
Arthur nodded.
"Does this mean you're going to be looking for that sidekick?" asked Yusuf as his eyes widened hopefully, an ingratiating smile blossomed across his lips.
Arthur paused- it was only for a moment and he didn't believe he gave anything away, but the length of his silence made his opinion apparent. Arthur would always consider Yusuf to be a friend. But he really wanted to have someone at his side for the superhero gig that didn't think it was okay to give away secrets when it increased the probability of getting into someone's pants.
"I'm sorry, Yusuf." Arthur thought, thinking about how the Fabulous Forger had taken over a restaurant to actually have a date with him, who trusted Arthur to catch him if he fell off a building, remembered how the man pouted at him, smiled at him, and proposed the bizarre idea of teaming up. "I'm sorry, but the position has been filled."
Finding Eames was ridiculously easy. After having chased, cornered, and apprehended the man for years, Arthur was aware of all of the places he liked to call his home away from home.
It was a Tuesday. And on Tuesday's the Fabulous Forger was known to have a late breakfast in a quaint little diner. When Arthur walked in he spotted the man immediately- he was wearing his Forger costume, his mask was on, and he ate his breakfast despite the number of stares he was receiving from fellow patrons.
Arthur may have been wearing his Bespoke Avenger costume, but he wasn't there on official business. When the other customers noticed him coming they either remained seated at their tables to watch the chaos unfold between the two men or dashed before paying their bills.
The young superhero slipped into the Fabulous Forger's booth like it was completely normal. They even greeted each other politely.
Lucille, their waitress returned to give Arthur a cup of coffee.
He only toyed with it briefly before getting down to business.
"Let's say that we do team up," he began, noticing how eager the other man appeared. "You're going to have to give up the life of crime- it means no more stealing. You're the Fabulous Forger, I get that forgery is a part of you. But I found out how you were 'escaping' from the police every time- they came to me when you kept giving them fake money!"
Eames grinned and rested his chin on one hand, leaning over his half-finished plate of pancakes.
"Whatever you say, darling. But personally, if they were accepting bribes to let criminals go free, they deserved to get money that's worthless."
While Arthur agreed, he had to keep his eyes on the prize. He took a sip of his coffee before continuing.
"Apologize for the crimes you have committed in the past, return all stolen merchandise, and pay a fine if asked. If you're going to be working with me, you've got to redeem yourself in the eyes of the city."
Eames nodded and raised one hand, as if he were swearing an oath. "I solemnly swear to mend my villainous ways and stand by your side fighting …well, nearly all the people I used to hang around with. You could say that I ran with the bad crowd on the wrong side of the tracks."
When Arthur raised an eyebrow, Eames shrugged. He reached for Arthur's hand and squeezed it. "Its like all the stories- it will be perfect! The dashing hero with great dress sense meets a misunderstood and completely sexy villain with a heart of gold who swears to work on the side of justice effective immediately."
It was a very familiar plot line; it was almost like he had heard that story before. Even their waitress's name seemed familiar. Arthur ignored that feeling and looked down at their clasped hands instead. He couldn't stop a small smile from appearing on his face. He cleared this throat and tried to get one more issue cleared up before they went any further.
"When we become a team fighting for the forces of good, I think that it would be a good time for a name change. I felt for you when the media stuck you with fabulous," Arthur said as Eames grimaced.
"It's like you can practically hear the implied sassy finger-snapping," the soon to be not-Fabulous Forger sighed. He then continued on.
"I didn't mean to be forward, but I've thought up a few ideas…what do you think of Bespoke Avenger and Midnight Forger?"
Arthur played with it, sounding it out and finding that it wasn't half-bad.
"Or," the Forger formerly known as fabulous suggested, "We could go by the Bespoke Avenger and Mombasa Forger!"
It was funny, but Arthur noticed the theme he was working towards. "You don't want to be the first name in the set and you really seem to like your superhero name to start with an m."
Eames shrugged but smiled like he was sharing a secret.
"I thought it was obvious. See, I had this idea that if we were ever to join up as a team that is either fighting for justice or robbing people blind, we could have a great set of initials. And it's why your name would have to be first, darling!"
When Arthur put two and two together, he couldn't stop himself from laughing. He actually attracted more attention from their quasi audience, but he didn't care anymore.
"Bespoke Avenger, Midnight Forger? I always wanted to be a BAMF!"
His new partner nodded eagerly. "It would suit you well!"
And, after glancing around, the new Forger (whether he was Midnight or Mombasa) took off his domino mask and laid it on the table. While he had only been a mask that covered the eyes, it seemed to reveal so much more once removed. It shouldn't have surprised him that Eames was handsome- he could tell that when the mask was on. But there was something to be said about his willingness to take his off first- he wanted to share his identity and wasn't afraid.
"I think that we should start this relationship properly," he cleared his throat and smiled at Arthur. "My name is Eames. It's a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance."
Arthur paused before deciding that he didn't care. While the mask was meant to protect others as well as his identity, it had already been fed to the media. Throwing caution into the wind, Arthur did the same as Eames and removed his mask.
"I'm Arthur." When he noticed that he had the reformed villain's full attention, the young hero smirked at him. "Want to try flying without jumping off of rooftops?"
Eames quickly put down some money for their bill and tip, slipped out of his booth, and looked eager for the new experience. He reached for Arthur's hand after the man had slipped out of his side of the booth and got to his feet. Eames looked like Arthur had said that Christmas had come early!
"I thought you were never going to ask, darling!"
AN: It took three attempts to start, a whole week of thinking, and the last four days of writing and rewriting. It has been finished! Please enjoy the story that I thought up during my Spring semester. If there are any errors I will be sure to correct them when I'm not hyped up on coffee.
Read, review, and enjoy!
-slash mania