A.N: Halloween story on my birthday!
Disclaimer: I don't own Inception.
Dial "I" for Inception
"You see, it was only a matter of time before the tiger advanced! Thankfully, I was quick and took the beast down with just one shot from my rifle!"
Arthur frowned to himself as the people- the rich party goers in their best outfits, smiling so hard it should have hurt, laughing and laughing at the older gentleman's story before sipping from their glasses of wine. Though he was dressed just as carefully for the party, Arthur had no recollection of how he had gotten there.
He hated parties. He hated them intensely. And even though he was certain he was really dreaming, seeing Eames dressed as the butler offering hors d'oeuvres made Arthur completely sure.
When they locked eyes over the tray of deviled eggs, Arthur fought to keep his expression bland and uninterested.
"Deviled egg, sir?" Arthur knew that the other guests were staring- he couldn't tell just how many of them were projections that starred with creepy intensity, how many might be part of an extraction team, or if they really just wanted more deviled eggs. Another man, more likely a projection, was holding a tray of what looked like cheese and crackers that the guests were ignoring as well.
Arthur took a deviled egg from the tray and nodded his thanks. Eames winked at him before moving on.
Feeling silly holding the appetizer, Arthur popped it into his mouth and chewed, giving himself a moment to think. It was possible that he had a projection of Eames. Well, a slight possibility. There was a good chance that Eames really was Eames, acting out the part of a butler during what was starting to look like a murder mystery dinner dreamscape.
On Arthur's left, a young woman fought to get his attention. She appeared to be a simpering blonde in a dress with a terrifyingly low neckline- Arthur focused his attention on the silver chain of her necklace rather than follow the length of it down into her partially exposed bust. Even if she was a projection or extractor trying to get something out of him, he was still a gentleman. The fact that he was also very very uninterested in what she was offering wasn't something he was going to make known- in addition to being a gentleman, Arthur wasn't rude, either.
"Weren't you listening to my story?"
Arthur narrowed his eyes and remembered hearing that line somewhere before.
"No, I wasn't," Arthur answered, thinking to himself, Eames as a butler or Eames as a blonde?
The blonde pursed her lips before taking a sip of wine. "Perhaps my story wasn't interesting? Would you like to tell one of your own?" Her eyes narrowed, matching Arthur. "Tell me more about your work."
Arthur was pretty sure that the girl wasn't Eames; she wasn't being very clever, she lacked his finesse. The biggest tell was that she wasn't impressing Arthur the way that Eames was capable of doing so easily. Not that Arthur would let Eames know he felt that way.
No, he was being extracted from and it looked like his biggest ally was on the extraction team, pretending to be a butler. But what did they want to know about his work? He needed more information. He needed a moment to himself…
Keeping calm, collected, and not even allowing the dreamscape mansion's windows shake in their frames, he forced himself to stand and ask a question of his own.
He made a passing server stop, holding his empty silver tray away from Arthur, asking him for directions to the restroom. He was told where he would find the restrooms, but was also warned that dinner would begin shortly.
Arthur thanked the server and left the room, aware of the number of eyes that followed him, the weight of the multiple gazes heavy across his back and shoulders.
While he was in the clean but elaborate restroom, Arthur had been coming up with a plan of action. He was clearly being extracted from, but he wasn't sure what the blonde wanted aside from knowing what he did for a living. That and his projections of fellow guests or serving staff weren't behaving as they should have been considering the situation…
He wasn't sure how he would be able to arm himself without alerting the dreamer of this level and had to get creative. Some kind soul had made certain that this bathroom had all sorts of clever little touches that one would expect in a bathroom that sees regular use. He had pocketed the lovingly sharpened straight razor when he had heard the door being pushed open and caught sight of the intruder in the mirror. Quick and lethal, Arthur pulled the razor from his pocket and pressed the naked blade against his guest's throat, forcing the man back against the door and closing it again.
Arthur was angry- it was understandable, but he managed to do nothing more than leave the blade against the man's skin, his free hand having grabbed for the man's face and pushing his chin up with that hold, keeping him exposed. The trouble was that with that grip, Arthur had a very good idea of who had decided to come into the bathroom without knocking.
There was only one person Arthur knew who had lips to die for.
When Arthur remained in that position and did nothing else, those lips pursed themselves into a distinctive smile.
"Darling," said Eames, a little muffled from the pressure of Arthur's hand against his mouth. "Not that I don't find you terribly sexy like this, but if you slit my throat the dream will collapse!"
Arthur let go and looked Eames up and down. The forger was dressed as a butler would be, neat and professional. Not a hair was out of place and his infamous scruff had been carefully shaved away.
"What in the hell are you doing in my head, Eames?" The how dare you, was implied.
Taking a moment to smooth his empty hands down his clothes, Eames started explaining. "A few weeks ago I was consulted for a job, one that concerned your knowledge of the inception and how a team could garner said knowledge without you being any wiser."
"And you said, 'Sure, I'd be happy to extract from Arthur, I definitely have a death wish!'"
"No I said, 'I've been meaning to take this bastard down a notch or two, I'm in!'"
Arthur wasn't pleased by this, but it beat having some complete stranger decide to take a job where he was the mark, all because he hated his guts.
"You know that I lied, right?" Eames added after a moment, reading Arthur's expression and taking an educated guess. "I had to stay on the team and make sure they didn't hurt you."
"Oh good, that makes me feel better," Arthur said dryly.
"Because they really really don't like you," Eames added, kind of thoughtful.
Arthur had to fight not to ask; what was it they hated about him most? What was their problem? What in the hell had he ever done to these idiots? But now wasn't the time.
"Be honest, Eames. Are you really thinking about betraying your team, fucking up the job, and risking your sanity just for me?"
The forger smiled brilliantly and said, "Of course!"
Arthur couldn't help his smile- he couldn't hide it or diminish it. He'd be stuck that way if he wasn't careful, and what a shame that would be when he went on a dream murder spree with Eames? He'd look crazy.
Unfortunately, Eames made a persuasive argument that crazy looked good on him.
There was a lot about this situation Arthur was upset with.
"We managed to Arthur-nap you during your dental appointment."
Arthur huffed out a frustrated sigh. What was the world coming to if he couldn't go and get his teeth cleaned and be safe from dream thieves?
"Your dentist accepted the bribe and watched as we carried you away to a different location."
"Shit," Arthur swore to himself. "And she's been my dentist for years! Why did you guys have to fuck that up for me?"
Eames was listening with half and ear, sticking his head out from the half closed bathroom door and checking if the coast was clear. It was, so he pulled Arthur out of the restroom. "It was a great idea- one of my best, really! She put you under for the cleaning and after we briefly explained what we needed, she accepted the bribe and let us have you."
It was a shame. Doctor Morgan was the only dentist he trusted to work on his teeth. After he took care of this little problem he'd have to search for someone just as competent but not so keen on taking bribes.
"You're in our warehouse right now. Yusuf is-," Arthur pulled at Eames's shoulder, forcing him to stop in the middle of the hall.
"What?!" Arthur growled. "What in the hell is Yusuf doing on this team? After what he did during the Fischer job, how can we trust him?"
Eames shrugged. "He's a friend, Arthur! He's the chemist for the job and is watching over us as we sleep. The rest of the team has been dosed with the compound from the Fischer job and we've got something a little milder pumping through our veins- just enough sedation to keep your projections from ripping us apart."
"Oh!" Arthur said cheerfully. "Yusuf's the best! So when we kill them here, they'll drop to Limbo and if we're injured we'll just wake up."
"Well," Eames said patting the pocket he had his gun hidden in, "I'm the dreamer of this level, so how about we both stick together. Watch my six and we'll get this done quickly."
Watching Eames as he walked ahead, admiring the cut of his suit, Arthur couldn't help think you bet I'm going to watch your six, if you know what I mean. He tightened his grip on his stolen straight razor and got his head into the game.
The dream was a whodunit. An homage to Clue that lacked the silly fake names and the weapons.
Well, there were improvised weapons everywhere like candlesticks and cutlery, but no one was going for them. Arthur put his straight razor into his pocket and rejoined the party, slipping away from Eames but keeping him in his sight. It was an easy thing to do considering that dinner was beginning and Eames was performing his duties as the main manservant.
Was it wrong that he had an inappropriate love of the idea? That Eames cutting such a fine figure, being so polite, and serving others (but really giving him the most care) made him really want to pull the man aside and talk about what this could look like topside between consenting adults that have obvious unresolved sexual tension.
Arthur was prone to a lot of thoughts like that- not strictly of the 'hey, let's totally hook up' variety, but the 'I really like you, and I hope you feel the same way' sort. But Arthur wasn't in grade school anymore and liking someone felt juvenile and-
That extractor was back, simpering and sliding into the empty seat next to Arthur. She was beautiful and worked very hard to get Arthur to speak about his job. And now, it was time to enact the plan that he and Eames had worked on for a couple of minutes.
Divide and conquer, darling. They're already expecting to be knocked off and we don't want to disappoint them…
Eames had explained the extraction plan- Simpering Blonde was their extractor and was supposed to survive till the end of the dream, hoping that as more of their fellow party guests were "killed" that it would make Arthur more willing to give up his secrets. Rich Older Gentleman was the point man (a terrible, terrible point man, Eames had said to reassure Arthur) and the Young Waiter with Cheese and Crackers was the architect. During the planning stages of the Arthur-abduction and extraction, it was decided that projections of fellow party-guests and members of the extraction team would have to be killed or appear to be killed to get them closer to their goal- learning the secrets of inception; how it was done, why they survived, what kind of compound was used, etc, etc.
After hearing this, Arthur had to ask Eames why these people hadn't thought to extract the information from him considering that he knew a great deal of it anyway. Eames had waved one hand and said, "Funny as it seems, they believed I'm less than brilliant and better off used to help steal information from you."
"And you didn't find that strange? You are brilliant and the inception wouldn't have happened without you!" The words were out before Arthur could change his mind, but Eames's pleased smile was a nice reward. He was still smiling when he mentioned that they only thought he was a forger with a pretty face, nothing more.
Arthur now had another reason for wanting these people in Limbo.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" asked Simpering Blonde, once again leaning too close, exposing too much skin, and invading Arthur's personal space. He forced himself to stay still and waited for the signal…it should be coming any second now.
"Yes, I'm having a lovely time," Arthur said, answering the extractor but looking at Eames as he was opening up a fresh bottle of wine to refill the wine glass of the first murder victim, the point man posing as the wealthy older gentleman. Arthur smiled, more for Eames's benefit than for the extractor whose shoulders relaxed a little.
Suddenly, the lights went out! There were shrieks and shouts of surprise as the entire dining room was plunged into darkness. Arthur was prepared for this; Eames had told him that it was going to happen. Regardless, he made sure that he had his hand inside his pocket and a nice firm grip on his improvised weapon.
The screaming was redoubled once the lights flickered back on, revealing that the point man playing wealthy host now had a corkscrew sticking out of his throat. Eames, who had been using said corkscrew to open up the wine bottle, had disappeared from his place next to the dead point man and creepily reappeared next to Arthur. Even though Eames had revealed that he was going to be 'the butler who kills everyone' and that his job was to scare Arthur into relying on the extractor, it was still unsettling to have Eames leaning over him, formal and composed and looking like a big bad murderer.
"More wine, sir?" Eames asked, not appearing to notice or care about the dead body at the head of the table.
Arthur shrunk backwards, leaning closer to the extractor who placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "No thank you, I've had enough alcohol."
Eames positively loomed over Arthur. "Of course, sir. The entrée will be served after the second course dishes and other refuse is cleared away from the table…"
Then Eames was off and moving, disappearing through a door while several projections dressed as waiters cleared the table of soup bowls and dragged the dead body of the point man through a different door. The table was silent; the extractor was attempting to get over the shock, and if Arthur wasn't still upset about being stuck in such a situation, he might have nodded in approval at her trying to get the job done.
"This is proving to be more exciting than I initially thought," she said, playing it cool and forcing a smile, even though she looked a moment too long at the closed door Eames had disappeared through. "My job isn't nearly as exciting! How about you? What is your work like, Arthur?"
Arthur stopped looking at the closed door and forced himself to play along. Smiling winningly, attempting to be as charming as Eames could be when he wasn't playing a murderous butler, Arthur gave her something to work with. "Me? You'd find it pretty boring, but I'm the best point man in dreamshare; I wear beautiful suits, kick ass in zero-g, and have been making competence sexy for the last six years."
Eames and his host of waiters served the third course of poached salmon and then the fourth course of filet mignon. In between those courses, the lights once again went out and when it was over, the poor frightened architect pretending to be a waiter got a used fish knife to the throat and a fresh salad fork lodged in his stomach. This didn't kill poor Cheese and Crackers immediately. When the lights were on and Eames had appeared at Arthur's side, making him jump in surprise before settling down again, Eames tutted and shook his head at the sight of the architect that was bleeding out before their eyes.
"I apologize, sir." Eames watched Cheese and Crackers sway and then fall to the floor with a loud thump! "I believe that I dropped a piece of cutlery."
Once again, the feebly twitching body of the second member of the extraction team was being dragged through the door by Eames. Arthur waited till the door closed again before taking a sip of wine and poking at his salad with his fork and then stopping because it looked like he was stabbing it. He put down his fork and looked at his pale and frightened extractor, before whispering to her, "I'd love to know what you hate about me most, what made you so eager to try and murder me in this dream after you learned how my team completed the inception."
"Oh god," she answered, eyes wide.
"I mean, honestly, I'm a pretty nice guy if you take into account how I didn't slice you up with my handy straight razor the second you sat next to me." He then pulled it from his pocket held it firmly over his abandoned salad.
When she spotted the shinning blade she tried to rise from her chair and get away, but she hadn't counted on Eames coming through the door, using a heavy cloth napkin to clean the blood from his hands.
"I hate parties, I don't respond well to strange people flirting with me, and I'm pretty pissed that I have to find a new dentist."
The Simpering Blonde extractor was hyperventilating but still managed to force some words out, begging for mercy. "Please… not my idea…just paid to do it!" She shook her head and fought for calm so she could speak, looking from Eames to Arthur. "If you're going to kill me, just tell me how you did it! How did you incept Robert Fischer?!"
Arthur shared a look with Eames; it was one hell of a slight that they had thought to go after the point man and not the forger. While they had both contributed to the success of inception, they did have a team of the best in the field of dreamshare working with them, too. But, Arthur's personal opinion had been that if it weren't for Eames, they'd all have been trapped in Limbo with their bodies waiting topside, their brains turning to mush as they slept and slept.
"Your biggest mistake was to think that Eames was just a pretty face," Arthur said coldly.
"Or that I'd sell Arthur out for anything," Eames added, moving in closer and blocking the Simpering Blonde extractor's other side, keeping her in the chair.
She bowed her head and sobbed to herself, perhaps thinking that they wouldn't notice her reaching for her dinner knife. Before she could get a decent grip on the piece of silverware, Eames had pulled his gun from his pocket and shot her, even as Arthur had calmly pressed the blade of his straight razor against her throat and pulled a Sweeny Todd.
She went limp and fell forwards into her salad plate. Both Arthur and Eames moved away; Arthur standing up and Eames reaching for the point man's arm to pull him further from the table. They stared at the strange sight in silence before Eames muttered, "Most unappetizing sight I've ever seen, darling."
Arthur nodded a little. "It's a shame since the salad actually looked very nice."
"The real shame is that we didn't make it to the dessert course. You would have loved it! There was this French vanilla ice cream served with a drizzle of dark chocolate and raspberries."
"We can always get dessert topside- we can get dinner and not worry about the people serving us trying to murder us, too."
There wasn't much to say after that- they gave themselves the kick and awoke in the warehouse the extraction team had secured for the job and interrupted Yusuf as he was busy reading a trashy romance novel.
When he noticed them sitting up from their lawn chairs, he quickly closed the book and laid it next to the PASIV that the three team members were still attached to. They didn't wake and didn't appear to be any worse for wear.
"I was just bored," Yusuf said, pushing what looked like a bodice-ripper of a romance novel further away from him. "Robin brought it in with her and I got bored."
Arthur assumed that Robin was the Simpering Blonde. Yusuf didn't offer up the names of the other two, and Arthur was fine with that.
"Thanks for keeping an eye on us, Yusuf. I appreciate it."
The chemist was checking on the sleeping extraction team, frowning to himself as he waved one hand. "I owed Eames a favor."
The forger snorted in response to that, pulling the line from his wrist. Arthur did the same, wincing a little at the pinprick and the spot of blood that welled up from the site.
Arthur often thought about what would have been done if they really had gotten trapped in Limbo while on the Fischer job. Since they hadn't known that dying in the dream would drop them into unstructured dreamspace there couldn't have been a way of securing their sleeping bodies on that plane- would they have been checked into a hospital as coma patients?
Trapped in a sleeping body; trapped in the terrible boundless space that makes up Limbo…what would he have done?
Eames offered him a cotton swab to wipe away the blood and sat down next to him on his lawn chair.
"So, what do you want to do with them now?"
Arthur was a little shocked at the question and how it was so close to his thought process. Arthur just shook his head.
"I don't think I can leave them here, not like this."
"They really didn't like you. They didn't care whether or not you were dropped into Limbo. They had the stupidest reasons for it, too."
Despite himself, Arthur was interested. "Really?"
"Robin the extractor thought you were boring."
"I'm a little boring, so what?"
"Ben the architect thought that your hair looked stupid."
"I'd like to see him be taken seriously with hair that makes him look twelve if he doesn't gel it into submission."
"Frederick the point man said that you make the job harder for the rest of them; that you made being point men and women too challenging."
Arthur smirked a little. "He didn't want to say that he was jealous that I'm the best point man? The great 'it's not that I'm an average point, it's just that the guy at the head of the field is too good' defense!"
None of this surprised Arthur. He was used to people having an issue with him personally or professionally. He wasn't going to say that he was okay with it, just that he understood that not everybody had to like him.
He turned his head and looked at Eames who watched him so seriously.
"I still don't think I can leave them like this. Let's make an anonymous call and have an ambulance pick them up."
Eames nodded and was about to stand before Arthur reached out and grabbed for his hand. The forger froze on the spot and waited.
"Thank you. You didn't have to get involved but you did," Arthur paused and weighed his words before taking that first metaphorical step on the rickety bridge that spanned the distance between them. "It was amazing. I never thought that you'd bother, I thought that the flirting was just to rile me up."
"Darling, I lied to my former teammates about disliking you; I allowed them to believe that my only skill was to forge identities in dreams, I allowed them to believe that I was going to let them extract from you and help kill you! How would I still be able to argue with you and rile you up with ridiculous flirty comments if you were dead or in Limbo? I wasn't going to let them take away any opportunity I had to do more than just flirt and more than just argue with you! Now that we're out of the dream, I need to know. Would you like to have a relationship that is more than just flirting?"
Arthur spared a moment looking over his shoulder to see what Yusuf was doing. The chemist had opened up the romance novel that he had borrowed from the extractor, flipping through the pages, not noticing that Arthur was glaring in his direction. Maybe he could feel the weight of Arthur's gaze? Either way, he half-closed the book to look over at the pair seated on the same lawn chair.
"This book is filled with romantic drivel, angry fights, and over-the-top sex scenes. So, if you two think that you need privacy for the inevitable admission of feelings that could be described as tame in comparison, you could continue being lovey-dovey without me caring…but, you know, good for you!"
Arthur got to see Yusuf returning to his book before he was pulled into a frantic kiss by Eames.