Abstract
by
Hi everyone! This is my first Inception story, and I'm super excited to be back on ff dot net and writing for this movie. This universe has so many unexplored places and aspects that its potential is literally unlimited. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Do I want to own Inception? Yes. Do I? No. Christopher Nolan, can I pleaaaase have it for Christmas?
Chapter 1 - Hello New York
"I've always wanted to come visit," Ariadne said, looking out to the sea. Behind her, tourists milled about, taking pictures and walking among the ruins of the old palace. She glanced at the person next to her and saw the battle that was Arthur trying to keep the amusement from his face, but it was overflowing from the gleam in his dark brown eyes. The petite Architect crossed her arms. "What? You have something against coming back to your roots?"
Arthur finally lost the fight, a grin tugging at his lips. "I assume you're going to want to visit Naxos next," he said, bemused. Ariadne rolled her eyes at him playfully, and much to his amusement, actually booked a ferry to the island. A tour was going on nearby, the guide speaking into a megaphone as the group made their way down to the beach.
"This beach is where the famous story of Ariadne, Theseus, and Dionysus took place," he boomed. "Greek mythology says that after Theseus wedded Ariadne on Crete, after the princess helped him navigate the Labyrinth we saw earlier today and defeat the Minotaur, abandoned her while she was sleeping on this beach."
While the guide was speaking, Arthur looked around, drinking in the location. The buildings were built right in front of the ocean, hills to the left. A little down the boardwalk were restaurants, tourists, locals, all just…living. Normal, everyday lives. Yachts and boats were anchored right by the shore, the water gleaming brightly in the late afternoon sun of Greece. It was truly a beautiful country; he just never had the time or reason to visit and vacation, even in between jobs. The food was great and the whole country had such an open feel to it- for the all-immaculate Point Man who preferred lines, planes, and monochrome colors, it made an interesting and surprisingly pleasant dichotomy. Paradox. Just like that Architect standing by his side. He was distracted enough that when Ariadne grabbed his arm, he almost went for his gun, relaxing as she wrapped her arms, her body, around his right one.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, almost amused as Ariadne buried her face into his shoulder.
Very softly, so softly he barely heard her, she said, "I'm making sure you don't leave."
The Point Man laughed. "I'm not Theseus, Ariadne," he said jokingly. "I'd be Dionysus, if anything."
It was her turn to laugh. "Dionysus? You? You don't party."
"You've never seen me drunk," Arthur shot back, a wicked look in his eyes. Ariadne's eyes shot open.
"What happened?!" She demanded. When all he did was laugh, she started shaking his arm. "Arthur! You can't just say something like that and not tell me!"
He gave her a look, still amused. Finally, he said, "You've been spending too much time with Eames."
Ariadne, not above using her physical assets, gave him her best puppy dog eyes. When Arthur resisted (with supernatural powers on his end to not obey the Architect's every whim), she finally pouted and said, "Fine. But you have to take a picture with me."
The Point Man playfully groaned, allowing her to pull him next to her with both the buildings of the island and the beach behind them. As she took the picture, at the last moment, Arthur turned his face and kissed her temple.
The sounds of New York City were nothing like the Mediterranean. Even at 5 am, there was still movement everywhere- traffic, people walking and talking, the breeze as it blew in from the window.
It was another sleepless night.
Arthur rubbed his hands over his face, his tired eyes, as he got off his bed, walking into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. His hands stopped mid-motion as he reached for his water heater- the Architect rubbed off on him more than he consciously realized. He wasn't even a tea drinker, he drank black coffee.
He sighed.
Tea was weaker than coffee. This early in the morning (or late at night; he gave up trying to differentiate these things a long time ago), tea would be a better idea. The familiar scent of chamomile and mint wafted comfortingly in the air as he stirred the tea in his mug while reaching for some honey. Chamomile by itself was too bland. Arthur almost snorted as the image of Eames' face, twisted in horror for 'defiling the sanctity of good tea' came to mind.
Just as he finished stirring and took a sip, his phone began to vibrate, an unknown number with its point of origin (Mombasa) on the screen. Speak of the devil.
"Eames." Arthur's tone was clipped. "It's 5 am. I hope you have a good excuse."
"How the bloody- never mind, I don't want to know," the Forger's deep timbre boomed over the line.
"Set my line to trace the origin of incoming calls. I knew where you were holing up, and here you are." The Point Man allowed a bit of smugness to slip into his tone. Any time to ruffle Eames' feathers a little was a good time. Despite all their bickering, everyone knew that the two men were good friends- or whatever the equivalent of that was in their world.
"Yeah, okay, you smart arse. Listen, I've got a job for us," Eames said. "Should be fairly simple. Corporate espionage, single-level. Client's name is Ronald Kent, from Kent Industries. He wants to know if his rival company is dealing in black market to raise their sales, because they've been higher than a mother-"
Arthur's mind worked to piece the picture together. Kent Industries dealt in electronics; its rival would be Hawkseye Illusions Inc.
"But Kent Industries' rival is a business partner of Saito's," the Point pointed out.
"I know. I called Saito." There was an edge to Eames' voice as if he was nervous. Arthur tensed. Eames was never nervous. "Saito gave the go ahead, saying that he would have asked us to do it himself if their sales rates kept suddenly skyrocketing."
"Did you tell Saito about who asked for the job?" Arthur demanded.
"Of course not. I'm not daft, Arthur."
He relaxed. "Who else did you ask?"
"I wanted to call you first," the Forger admitted. "No use taking on a job if it would just get us all killed."
Arthur had to give him some credit for thinking ahead. This was Eames he was talking to.
"But I was thinking of contacting Davis to be the extractor. We won't need sedation, so I opted out of a chemist. Of course, I was thinking of calling our favorite Parisian to be our Architect. She'd have my head otherwise."
The Point Man let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Davis is fine," he said. "There has been a lot of good talk about him lately."
"Maybe one day, he could be as good as Cobb," Eames laughed. They both knew that though Davis had been in the business for a few years, all known extractors would take decades to catch up to Dominic Cobb. Growing sober, the Forger continued. "There's been a lot of whispers about Ariadne from the grapevine as well."
Arthur winced slightly at her name. Paid to pay attention to the smallest details, Eames caught it immediately.
"You all right, mate? Don't you think about lying, I'll know if you do."
Was there another way to save him from the impending humiliation? He hadn't even told Dom yet.
"Ari and I didn't…part on good terms," he replied, feeling a pressure building between his temples. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to relieve the upcoming migraine.
"I heard that you two did a job together after Fischer. She called you?" Eames wasn't amused. Eames wasn't laughing. For once, Arthur was grateful for the man.
"Yeah. We were in Chicago for a job," he explained slowly. "She called me asking for help in getting back into dreamshare after her graduation, and I already had one lined up. Didn't change the number on one of my phones; that would be the one I gave to her. I was going to call her anyway, but she got to me first. Things got a little…carried away."
"You two were ogling each other during the planning for the inception."
"Eames…"
"Right, sorry. Keep going."
"During the inception, I…I kissed her. In the second level."
"You what?!"
"Yeah, I know, I-"
"You mean you're not actually a robot?"
"Eames."
"Right. You kissed her. So you like her, hmm? Then what?"
"We didn't initiate contact for a month after the job, giving her time to finish her degree. When the next job came up, she agreed to it immediately. It felt…nice to be with her again. We ended up having to go to Greece for some recon work, and things just…"
"Did you bed her?"
The Point Man felt a flush washing over his neck. "No!"
"Arthur…" Eames mimicked his earlier tone.
"We finished recon ahead of schedule, and she wanted to visit Crete and Naxos."
The Forger groaned. "Of course. So you took a vacation with her for a few days?"
"It was just one." Arthur rubbed tis face with his right hand. "I guess I let a lot of feelings show, because after that…we were around each other all the time. There was something more there than just coworkers, or even friends."
"For God's sake, Arthur, you call her Ari."
"Yeah. And then," he swallowed, knowing exactly how Eames would respond to this next tidbit of information. "I realized how dangerous it would be if she stayed with me. Said that I would drop off the grid after the job. She…didn't take it too well. Nearly chewed my head off."
"It's a wonder you're still alive."
"Yeah, well. The job finished, and I put her own a plane back to Paris, trying to get her to understand. Told her I would call when another job came along. Then I went stateside."
"But you didn't drop off the map. She just didn't know how to find you," Eames said, finishing the story. Arthur nodded before remembering that he couldn't see him over the phone.
"Well," the Brit announced. "I think you should call her, then. Apologize for being an arse."
"She told me never to call her again," Arthur groaned. "That she would find her way around dreamshare on her won. I've been keeping tabs on her."
"Still in Paris, then?"
"Still in Paris."
"Give it a go, mate."
"You can call her. I'll…I'll try to make her understand when I see her."
5:30 am. Arthur felt more tired than before. Eames was silent for a moment before consenting.
"All right. I'll call you back bright and early in the morning."
"Thank you."
"The stick-in-the-mud is thanking me?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Good night, Mr. Eames."
New York mornings- city mornings in general- were Arthur's favorite. The sounds of the city would rouse the dream from his sleep, like a greeting. Said dreamer, literal dreamer, opened his eyes to 7:30 am on his clock. He let out another groan (that was weird. Arthur doesn't groan. He's done it at least three times the past three hours), blinking back sleep. He stretched a little, about to sit up, when his phone vibrated again.
"Arthur." Eames didn't even wait for the Point Man to speak. He was immediately alert, standing straight up.
"What happened?" A billion scenarios ran through his mind, another two plans of action accompanying each one.
"I can't get a hold of Ariadne."
Arthur took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. 'She's just busy,' he told himself. 'She put her phone down. She's just busy.' Despite his mantra, he wretched open his laptop, tracing her exact location via phone card and pulling up her bank information in a separate tab. No withdrawals, no new transactions. Not since Wednesday, at least.
"When did you call her?"
"It was 10:30 my time when we hung up," Eames said. "I called Kent after hanging up to confirm the job, and then Davis. After everything was arranged, it was around 12. I called her after. Tried her cell, tried her home. I even called Miles."
Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"He said she stops by every Thursday afternoon for tea."
"She missed it this week," the Point Man finished for Eames. "There hasn't been a single transaction since Wednesday, and that was at some corner shop near her apartment. I haven't tracked her communications yet."
"It's Saturday. Nothing?"
"Her phone card is still active; I can still trace it. The last call that went through was an international call going out to Japan."
"JAPAN? The only person she knows in Japan is Saito!"
Arthur grit his teeth. "I'm flying out to Paris," he managed, closing his laptop and throwing it in a duffle next to his bedside table.
"I'm closer to France than you are. I'll go on ahead to her apartment, and then I'll go see Miles. You contact Saito."
"I'll find you."
The two men hung up simultaneously, no need for further words. The Point, face set in stone, first bought a ticket to Paris (what was a couple thousand more on top of the original fee to kick someone out of first class onto another flight?) and promptly left his apartment before speed-dialing Saito, not caring that it was now 10 pm in Tokyo.
"Saito." The businessman's voice was stoic, careful, guarded.
"Saito. It's Arthur."
"Ahhh," Saito relaxed a little. "Mr. Wright." Arthur winced a little; that was his least favorite pseudonym. He breathed a sigh afterwards- for all the power the man had at his disposal, he still used his name from the Inception job. "What can I do for you?"
"I apologize for taking up your time," the Point retained his professionalism. "But I just need to ask- has Ariadne called you this past week?"
"Miss Delaney," again, Arthur let out a breath. Saito used her false name as well. "Calls in from time to time to see how things are on my end."
At this, he frowned. The businessman's tone held a catch, an underlying current of a hidden something. He knew something and wasn't telling him. Arthur cleared his throat, carefully orchestrating his answer.
"Mr. Saito," he began, trying desperately to remember each extraction technique Dom had ever taught him, that he had ever picked up on, "I just need to make sure she's safe. Haven't heard from her in a while, so I was just wondering. I'm in Paris at the moment and haven't been able to get in contact. Just covering all my bases. Will you let me know if she contacts you?"
"No need to worry, Mr. Wright," Saito's voice sounded relaxed again. Having spent too much time with Dom and Eames, along with his own observant, detail-oriented nature, Arthur could pick up on slight changes most people would miss. As a wealthy and successful businessman, Saito was good with his poker face and casual tone. Arthur was just better. "Miss Delaney is safe as can be. I'll be sure to let you know if I hear from her."
The Point Man said his thanks and hung up before immediately calling Eames.
"Eames."
"Ari's in trouble. She went to Saito for help, and he's hiding her somewhere. Or he has information. Either way, he knows something. We'll meet at her apartment. Then, we're flying to Japan."
A/N: Where could Ariadne be? What's Saito hiding from Arthur and Eames? Is it a hoax, or is our favorite Architect actually in trouble? Stay tuned!