A Christmas Carol

by Amelia Alexandra

Author´s note: A small christmas story written ages ago, which never got published. I thought it´t might deserve a chance to be read by someone else. English is not my first language. Any, and all, mistakes are my own as I have not asked the help of a beta.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own, the original story line or the characters. This a fan fiction written based on by own idea. No money was made from this story, nor was there any intent to do so.

Chapter 1

Eames pressed his hand harder against the bleeding hole in his stomach, wincing at the pain the movement caused. Blood was already running freely over his hand and down towards the ground. It was dark in colour, indicating that the bullet might have hit his liver on its way in. It had been a freaking hollow point bullet too, and those things made a lot of damaged going both in an out. He wasn't really sure why he was trying to stop the bleeding; it wasn't like he would actually die in real life when he bled out. That was the great thing about dreams, but you still had to die to wake up, which made the whole thing a little less great. Dying wasn't something he enjoyed, especially not the slow kind of death that came with bleeding out.

He pressed his hand a bit harder against the wound before looking up at the point man, whom was currently trying to shot as many of the subject´s projections he could manage. They were both hiding behind a blue Mazda Sedan at the end of an ally while trying to outshoot the uncounted number of projections that was bent on killing them, or Arthur was hiding while Eames were slowly dying beside him, propped up against the rear tire.

The Glock in Arthurs hand gave a 'click' announcing that it was currently out of bullets. Arthur swore and ducked down to change the magazine. He ejected the empty one and, after reloading, he pointed the gun at Eames.

"You don't have to look so pleased at the prospect of shooting me, Arthur." Eames smiled just before Arthur pulled the trigger and everything went black for a couple of seconds.

He woke up back in the warehouse, laying on one of the lounge chairs. Around him the rest of the team was still under, as was the subject. Yusuf looked up from whatever he was working on while waiting for the job to be done.

"What happened?" he asked, watching as Eames carefully removed the cannula and the IV line from his wrist, swabbing the insertion site with alcohol before putting everything away.

"I got shot. He," Eames pointed towards their sleeping subject, "has a very nasty subconscious. Arthur was kind enough to wake me up before I had to die a slow and painful death from blood loss. He seems to enjoy killing me a bit more than I would appreciate. How's the subject?" Eames got up from the chair. He needed to walk around a bit to shake the feeling of being shot, twice. He couldn't feel anything, nothing had happened to him after all, but his brain still remembered the pain from the dream and he wanted to shake the memory.

"Still sleeping like a child."

Eames nodded. He needed a drink, or rather, several drinks. The job had been difficult so far, and judging from what had happened in the dream, Eames was pretty sure the rest of it wouldn't be a walk in the park. The forgery of the subject's brother had been good, he wasn't going to starting doubting his abilities, but somewhere during the dinner the subject had discovered that the person he was talking to wasn't really his brother. The whole thing had gone downhill from there. But really, Arthur should have known that the subject normally carried a gun on him, that information might have saved Eames from getting shot.

In the end the extraction attempt failed. Cobb and Yusuf brought the still sedated subject back to the man's overly expensive apartment in downtown of Stockholm, close to the Old City. Yusuf's reassurances that man would not remember anything when he woke up and that yes it would be possible for them to try again, did nothing to settle Arthur's irritation over the failed attempt.

"How could you possibly not know that his brother was seeing that girl?" Arthur was leaning against his desk; voice levelled, but there was no mistaking the anger underneath it.

"Well, considering he never once rang, visited or talked about her during the two days you gave me to study him, how the bloody hell was I supposed to know? And while we're on the subject of knowing, how could you miss that he carries a concealed Berretta on him? I don't particular enjoy getting shot in the stomach, darling."

"That's enough you two." Cobb interfered before Arthur could voice his response. "We all made mistakes. I know it's Christmas Eve tomorrow, but, unfortunately, we're stuck here until we get a second chance at getting the job done sometime next week, so stop taking your frustrations out on each other and try to concentrate on the job."

Arthur opened his mouth. Probably to protest against the accusations, Eames thought. He was inclined to do the same, but he had noticed that the tension in the room had been running a little high the last couple of weeks. His first clue had been when Arthur's and his bickering had taken a serious turn and the jibs and comments had become more spiteful and harmful as opposed to the playful banter they normally had going.

The job had taken a lot of time and research, more time than what had been expected due to some unexpected setbacks that had taken time to overcome. Everyone was tired of trying and failing and the fact that the next day was Christmas Eve didn't help at all. Not that Eames normally spent Christmas with his family, but he did try to make it home when he could, last time being two years ago. His mother was probably ready to behead him by now. Ariadne was supposed to be in Paris with her parents this Christmas, she was the only one of the team that normally spent the holiday with her family, which said a lot about her, but probably more about the rest of them.

Eames had to wonder what she had told them when she called and said she wouldn't be home for Christmas. 'Sorry, mum, but I'm out stealing corporate secrets from a CEO in Stockholm using dream technology, so I can't make it home for Christmas'. Yeah, that was probably the last thing she had told them.

Cobb on the other hand probably missed his kids. After being away from them for so many years due to Mal's death and the arrest order put out for him, Cobb would probably have preferred to stay home with them as often as he could. The job was supposed to have been done by now and they should all have been on their way back home, but the little mishap had stranded them all in Stockholm until after Christmas. Eames refused to feel guilty about missing the fact about the brother seeing someone. He wasn't a mind reader.

"A tree," Ariadne suddenly said behind them, interrupting Arthur's protests before they even had a chance to be vocalised. All three turned to look at her with equal parts of confusion and disbelief. Yusuf just raised his eye brows from his position leaning against Ariadne's desk a little to her right.

"Could you be bit more specific, love?" Eames asked, rubbing a hand over his eyes which were currently threating to close on their own accord.

Ariadne made a gesture with her hand like the answer should be obvious. "A tree. You know, like a Christmas tree. It's Christmas, we're away from our families," here she shot a knowing look at Cobb, "and loved ones, and we should have a tree and presents. And for the love of God can we please eat something that doesn't come in a take-away box?" She was grinning in the end, seemingly pleased with her own idea.

"Sounds like a lovely idea, but where do we find a tree in this city?" Eames was intrigued by the thought of a Christmas tree. His family always had big tree in the middle of the living room. A tree would also help to give the grey and dark warehouse some much needed colour. He had never understood why Arthur always had to pick a warehouse for the workplace, why couldn't they just once have a nice hotel room?

"They sell them all around the city. And I'm sure there are some low priced stores that sell decorations." Again she waved her hand dismissingly in the air to emphasise that getting a tree would be a piece of cake. Eames wasn't so sure.

Yusuf tilted his head. "I could probably find something to make a proper meal from. We already have a gas stove, it wouldn't take that much to be able to cook something half decent."

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. "We're not dragging a tree in here. It will be a mess to clean up afterwards. And we need to work out the details to ensure that the mess that happened today," Eames tried to ignore the glare sent in his direction, "doesn't happen again." Ignoring it didn't really work and he felt the irritation of having the whole day's mess blamed on him rise. Before he could get around to voicing his irritation Cobb started nodding in agreement. Eames half expected him to agree with Arthur, but the man actually surprised him by not doing so.

"We could need a day of," Cobb said. "The tension here is thick enough to cut with a knife, and we're not going to get anything done when everyone is ready to jump at each other's throats. We'll not get another shot at our mark until after Christmas anyway and most of the groundwork is already done," he gave Arthur a look, "we only need to work out the last details."

The pursed lips and tight lines around his eyes told Eames that Arthur was less then pleased about the prospect of having time off. Sometimes it really seemed like the man lived to work.

"Great!" Ariadne was almost jumping up and down in glee. "I'll go with Yusuf and find something to make dinner of. Nothing fancy, just something that will be easy to make." She picked up her grey, wool coat and twisted a thick, white knitted scarf around her neck before finishing of the look with matching mittens.

"I'll come with," Cobb said, picking up his coat from where it was hanging over a desk chair. "I'm a decent cook, and we can pick up some decorations on the way." Yusuf also got his coat on and pulled on a scarf as well. Stockholm was cold this time of year and the snow was covering most of the city. The weather forecast had mentioned the possibility of more snow as well. Eames could help wondering if they would end up killing each other if they were snowed in during the next couple of days.

Ariadne turned to Arthur and Eames, who suddenly got a distinctive feeling of where this was heading. He started to grin just as Arthur caught on and shook his head in a firm 'no way in hell' movement.

"Absolutely not. I'm not walking around in this cold looking for a freaking tree!"

Ariadne gave him her best puppy-dog eyes, which in Eames' opinion was pretty impressive. Not that it seemed to have any effect on Arthur. He stared at her coldly, arms crossed firmly over his chest.

"Please," she tried, looking hopeful.

"No."

"Oh, come on now. Don't be such a Grinch. He'll go," Eames added looking at Ariadne and giving her a wink. She smiled in return and seemed to have faith in his abilities to get Arthur to change his mind because she left with Cobb and Yusuf, leaving Eames alone with an irritated Arthur.

"Which part of the meaning of the word 'no' escapes you?"

Eames grinned. "I never quite managed to grasp the concept of that word. It seems to be an easy one to turn around into something else. Now, where is your coat? We wouldn't want you to become sick now, would we, hmm? Where would we be with the job then?" Eames started humming on a Christmas carol he could remember from his childhood as he looked around to locate the point man's dark winter coat. He found it carefully draped over Arthur's desk chair and made his way over to retrieve it. Making his way back over to Arthur he held the coat out in an old fashion gentleman way to help Arthur put it on. Arthur gave him a long, suffering look, but allowed Eames to help him with the coat in the end, something Eames counted as a small victory. He slipped into his own coat and scarf before headed for the door.