A.N- I couldn't get this idea out of my head. I really wanted to create a set of circumstances where Arthur is a wish granting genie and Eames is the lucky fool that is his Master. A different take on the 'getting them together' stories I keep thinking up. Since its a plotline that actually changes the Inception plot a little, and shakes up who does what and where, not to mention making one a genie- this is an AU fic slash fic. Yay for me!
Disclaimer: I don't own Inception or any of its lovely characters. I just write fan fiction about them!
As You Wish
When dreamshare was still young and the PASIV still being put through its paces, it was understandable that many people that were in the know thought that it was magic.
A strange blend of magic and science. Being able to build layers in the mind, explore, and take on the shapes of others? Not to mention being able to die in the dream and awaken immediately- allowing the soldiers that were taken under to strangle and shoot each other to do so in relative safety.
Well safe at least for the ones that didn't try to 'wake up' again once they had returned to reality and the waking world. Very tragic but every new technology or venture had its fatalities.
But this story takes place years after the kinks had been worked out, when a coveted PASIV had been stolen for private use, and a select team of thieves set to use the technology to expand the field of dreamshare and include dream espionage for a good price.
There was an Extractor and his wife. When his dear wife went crazy after experimenting with the PASIV and the levels of dreams, he was blamed for her death and was forced to leave his poor children and the United States to try and clear his name.
There was a young untried Architect, still a student and new to dreamshare, but enthralled by the things that she could create while under the influence of the PASIV and its chemicals. She also couldn't help but form a bond with the Extractor over time, and that too kept her a little enthralled as well.
The Forger was their third and the best in his field. He was suited to the shifting of roles, the research of marks, slipping his skin while in dreams to take on the shape of nearly anyone.
But, they required something important. Something vital to their team.
What they needed was a Point Man, and this was the story of how they happened to gain one and have their dreams come true.
Eames, the Forger, was skilled.
He could mimic anything from a voice, to an expression, to the way a person could walk. It was all in the study of people and the notation of their habits.
So, Eames was an excellent Forger while working with the PASIV. Or in reality he could forge documents with versatile handwriting, if one didn't catch the occasional bout of bad spelling.
But, Eames had required a laptop for the things he wasn't so skilled at. Bad spelling made him a fan of spell check. Lack of a computer made some of his research hard to come by, forcing him to resort to more personalized and sometimes dangerous forms of information gathering on marks.
He had some money and didn't want anything too flashy.
When he went to a friend that was willing to sell him a 'refurbished, discount, most likely stolen' laptop at a decent price, Eames wasn't going to bicker.
After looking inside the case to ensure that it wasn't holding a dictionary rather than the laptop he required, he bought it and brought it home ready to charge it up and see how well it would run.
Inside his poorly lit living room, resting on his coffee table was the laptop case. It was a sleek black leather case that was unmarked, its shoulder-strap hanging off the edge of the table to hit the floor. Eames, seated on his couch, had unzipped the case and flipped it open to reveal his new laptop.
It was pristine and looked to be of great quality, something that made Eames feel immediately suspicious.
He opened up the laptop to check the screen and breathed a quick sigh of relief when he noticed that it wasn't cracked or shattered or covered in fingerprints.
"Okay, so far," Eames said to the laptop he had plugged into the outlet with the power cord, "-you're too good to be true. Let's see what I've got to work with."
Eames pressed the power button and the screen lit up with a brilliant white light.
For a second, Eames thought that he could see the shape of a man rising before him, coming into being in the wide space between the table and the couch.
Eames had shut his eyes as the light grew too bright and then suddenly winked out along with every other light in his living room, leaving the Forger in the dark with his new laptop.
"Bloody hell," Eames swore to himself, still seeing spots from his exposure to the light and feeling lost in the living room now.
He searched with his hands, knowing that he kept a flashlight around for blackouts on the table.
But, when he reached forwards with the thought of pushing the laptop across the table, his two hands encountered something bizarre.
A face- he was touching a warm, human face.
As he struggled to come up with words rather than the shout that was eager to be born, a voice spoke to him, nearer to the ground but still close to him; he could even feel the expelled breath of this person, pushing the words out along with puffs of warm air.
"Your wish is my command, Master."
Eames' blood went cold as he ripped his hands away from this- this intruder's face and forced himself up onto his feet to only flounder in the dark.
"Where's the lights damn it?!" he cried in his fear.
The voice, it hummed a little and said, "Ah. Lights. Let me take care of that for you Master."
As this intruder spoke every light in Eames' living room went on, all of them brighter than before.
In this quality of light, Eames could see that he really had to get some cleaning done- use the vacuum at least.
But he could also see that he had a finely dressed young man kneeling before him in the space between the coffee table and the couch.
The man looked up but didn't smile. His face was very professional, direct, but the first thing that Eames noticed was the lovely shade of brown the man's eyes were.
His hair was dark and slicked back, the suit he wore was perfectly tailored, and he looked up at him with the careful focus of a servant waiting for another task or order to be given.
"Lights," he said, rising to his feet to stand toe to toe with Eames, who still stared in open mouthed surprise. "I believe that now we have light, we may begin to speak about the wishes you will want- I have a few guidelines, but it is nothing that will take too much time away from your choices."
The intruder stared at him hard, waiting for an answer or sign that Eames had heard him.
"W-wishes?" Eames said, feeling a little sick as he dropped down onto the couch again. He looked this young man up and down before looking again at the laptop.
It was still on and running perfectly.
Eames returned his attentions to the young man. "You aren't going tell me that you're a genie, are you?"
The young man and supposed genie rolled his shoulder in a shrug.
"Genie or a wish granting entity. I offer you three wishes- and three wishes only. As you were the one to free me from my laptop, you are my Master until the last wish is granted."
"But aren't genies supposed to be trapped in lamps?"
Another shrug coupled a roll of the eyes. "I like to keep up with the times. These days, technology is one of the most powerful forces in the world. I believed that a laptop would be a coveted piece of equipment, greater than some boring lamp anyway. I ask again, what will your first wish be Master?"
Eames blinked hard and had to swallow down the dozens of questions that wanted to be born. He couldn't believe his luck, his amazing screwed up luck! He paused to check his totem to see if he was dreaming and fought down the urge to cheer when he realized this was really happening!
"Eames," the Forger said in reply to the genie's question. "Please, don't call me 'Master'. Just call me by my last name while we maintain our, um- partnership."
The genie paused and inclined his head in a nod. "Alright, Mr. Eames. What will your first wish be?"
Eames licked his lips and thought of the things he could ask for, all the things he wanted, and dreamed of.
But, there was only one wish he could make that would seriously benefit not only himself, but his whole team as they worked in dreamshare.
"I wish," Eames began, "I wish for the best Point Man- I wish for the very best Point Man in the dreamshare business!"
The genie stared at him for a moment with his head cocked to the side, curious.
"But what is a Point Man?"
Eames laid back against his couch and tried to explain it to this character out of storybooks and fantasies.
"A Point Man? Well, a Point Man runs point for a dream team. They organize the plans, check the information, create reports on marks, looks for the problems and the loopholes in any dreamscape that could lead to any teammates being harmed."
Eames shrugged helplessly. "A Point Man does everything, darling!"
The genie's back stiffened at the endearment and for the first time, he glared at Eames.
"Do not call me 'darling'," the genie said harshly.
Eames looked at him with wide questioning eyes.
"But what do I call you? Don't you have a name, darling?" He had been unable to stop the 'darling' from slipping past his lips as he watched the uncertainty flit across the genie's face.
"You may call me," the genie said, before nodding his head in silent decision. "You may call me Arthur."
Eames thought that he really did look like an Arthur. Very proper and polished.
He was too damned perfect!
"What about the wish? Do you think that you can manage to find me a Point Man?"
Arthur's brown eyes flickered with what Eames wanted to label as amusement before the look disappeared in the face of his serious attitude.
"Nothing is impossible for me to manage. Your wish has been granted."
Eames eyes widened as the genie came to sit next to him with a quick smile and proud eyes.
"You'll be taking me to work with you tomorrow, Mr. Eames. It wouldn't do for your new Point Man to be late on his very first day."
Arthur took to being Point Man like a duck takes to water.
He was smart, and precise, and focused.
With his laptop, he managed to dig up all sorts of important documents and hack into previously unbreakable systems. His handwriting was perfect and his manners superb if not a little cold.
"Where did you find him?" Dom asked in amazement after watching Arthur work for just one hour.
What Eames wanted to say was 'Oh, you know, usual places. I bought that laptop he's using and he kind of appeared from inside it when I turned it on! He's a genie!'
What he said instead while not making eye contact was "Friend of a friend had seen some of his work. He was practically a prodigy and when dreamshare flourished he found he had a talent."
Dom squinted at Eames and nodded his head, agreeing with him while also searching for what Eames wasn't saying.
"Anything else about his background?"
'He'd been locked inside his laptop waiting for a new master to free him- thought that I was some poor pauper because of my clothes.'
Eames tried to avert his eyes from both Arthur who was arranging file folders of information and Dom who was beginning to make him feel nervous. He never liked being forced under the Extractor's Squint.
The Forger looked at his hands as he spoke.
"He's done a lot of small time stuff- hey, he's finished up with those folders!"
Sufficiently distracted, Eames breathed a sigh of relief as Dom went towards his Point Man and offered him a smile.
Arthur didn't smile back, until he looked over the blond Extractor's shoulder to see Eames' frantic silent pantomiming of offering a pleasant smile to Dom.
Without even raising an eyebrow at the Forger's behavior, Arthur caught onto what he wanted and smiled a faint and gentle smile in Dom's direction that was gone as soon as it appeared.
Eames couldn't have imagined a more perfect wish.
Eames hadn't really thought about where Arthur would be sleeping after that first day as Point Man. He had assumed that the man would be fine with doing what most genies did and disappear back into the lamp.
Or in Arthur's case, the laptop.
But, when Eames awoke suddenly in the middle of the night to find Arthur standing at the head of the bed, he froze.
"What are you doing in here, Arthur?" Eames asked just a little groggy.
Arthur seemed confused. "My past Masters or Mistresses often asked that I perform other tasks for them in the night."
When Eames didn't say anything immediately, Arthur moved closer to the edge of the bed and grabbed the covers, ready to move them aside.
Eames panicked and said the first thing that came to mind.
"Arthur! What are you doing, I don't have anything on under here, if you get my meaning!"
The Point Man didn't look worried, surprised, or embarrassed by the news.
"Well, that's one less task to take care of, Eames. Now, if I may begin to pleasure you now, we may have enough time for sleep later." As Eames blushed bright red, Arthur merely looked like he was calculating something.
"Yes, we should have just enough time to sleep, eat, and then get to work if we begin now."
Feeling much more like he was thirteen, his voice even breaking as Eames yelped.
"OH MY FREAKING GOD, ARTHUR- I DON'T WANT THOSE TYPES OF SERVICES!"
The Point Man released the blanket it as Eames forcibly cocooned himself in the warm material, as if that would protect him from the advances of his wish granting genie.
Far from being offended, Arthur looked relieved.
"Thank you, Eames. While I find you to be very attractive I would feel wrong doing such things with you. Especially if I am to go to work with you in the morning."
Eames had lain very still with his eyes shut, only opening them when he heard his bedroom door close.
After that, Arthur stayed in the guest room that Eames hardly had a use for, saying that he wasn't comfortable residing inside the laptop if there was a room available. Eames had no complaints about this.
If on the rare evening he occasionally thought about the Point Man and his offer, creating details and dialogue that never occurred, working up a fantasy that would leave him feeling a little better, a little shamed, and in need of a shower afterwards- who cared?
Vague fantasies were alright. They weren't real and would never make things awkward in their working relationship or even their relationship here at home.
Eames knew that he had made the right choice.
If he had agreed before, it would have only complicated things.
There began to be problems a little bit after the first month.
Arthur's performance was wonderful- always on time, never argued, and happened to buy the coffee each morning of his own accord.
But despite the man's punctuality, his reserve, and his calm he had drawn attention for a rather bizarre but obvious problem.
"Are you and Arthur…well, you know?"
Eames had been practicing a particular expression of their mark's before heading down into a dream to do some more in depth practice runs with the PASIV to iron out any problems.
He had put down the small compact mirror to stare at a blushing Ariadne.
"What are you on about now?" Eames asked a little too harshly, not just because he was busy, but because he could feel the blush rising up his neck and beginning to tint his cheeks. He coughed as if that could possibly mask it and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. He had known that this was going to come up eventually.
Eames had had several conversations with Arthur about this very problem.
"Can't you just tell them that you don't like me in that way?" Arthur had asked rationally.
"It doesn't matter what I say when our actions scream that we are in a relationship together- never mind that it isn't the kind they are thinking of!"
Their relationship was ultimately one of business. Arthur stayed close to him, living in his apartment (though it was never said or alluded to during work), and at Eames' instance shared dinner with him.
When he had found that the Point Man could actually ingest food if he wished to, he had taken it upon himself to cook for him. It was something that Eames loved to do because of the look of pleasure it brought to the other man's face.
So what if they watched movies together? If they had routines together that circled who got the first shower in relation to who brewed the coffee and made breakfast?
After a few weeks of working as their Point Man Arthur had stopped asking questions as to what his second wish would be.
To be completely honest, Eames didn't want to make another wish. He had two more but he wasn't sure how he'd feel if he ended this relationship.
After brushing off Ariadne's comments, Eames had come up with an excellent idea.
"Let's allow them to think that I want a relationship with you Arthur."
When the Point Man had frowned in response to such a tactic Eames smiled and said, "It's not like you have to change how you act! I can blatantly and horribly flirt with you and you can avoid any advances. We can bicker and fight- no one will be able to prove anything and if they see what they already believe, who will it hurt?"
After a few more talks, Arthur agreed though he predicted that it wouldn't help them much.
"Don't be silly, darling," Eames said with pleasure, always loving the way the endearment would go tripping off his tongue in the presence of the Point Man. And how it ever so slightly caused Arthur to blush.
"It will work out."
They were a great team. A wonderful pair. Everyone they worked with assumed that they were some strangely perfect couple that fought all the time or were lovers that bickered.
Outside observers were correct about everything except the lover part and the more that it was rubbed in his face the more that Eames wanted it so badly. Eames hadn't been able to get a physical relationship with Arthur off of his mind after the one time offer. Despite the lovely idea of meaningless 'God I'm too damned attracted to you!' sex, Eames believed that it could soon develop meaning, and that would be bad enough if one considered the basics of their relationship.
He saw some problems with it in the mindset that if their relationship were dragged down to the basics they weren't supposed to be equals.
Eames was supposed to have Arthur in his control, commanding him to grant wishes and do his bidding.
It wasn't like that, but it still put a bad taste in his mouth to think what the outcome might be if he ordered Arthur to date him, or- well, take it further…
If Arthur had similar feelings he never said a word. He just continued to work and watched Dom pace and fret and worry over children he couldn't see anymore and a wife that had been dead for over three years.
It was Arthur that mentioned what a wish could do to help.
"Dom needs to see his children again," Arthur said one night over dinner. It was strange enough for Arthur to be speaking over dinner because the Point Man rarely did more than eat and make pleasurable noises that Eames tried not to think about as sleep alluded him. While Eames had been entertaining detailed fantasies about how Arthur would sound in romantic situations that didn't involve the Forger's chicken stew, the thought of Dom and his children derailed them.
Arthur's bowl was still half full which was a testament to the Point Man's worry. Eames put down his spoon and gave Arthur a look.
"Are you asking what I think you may be asking, darling?"
Arthur actually looked away quickly. "No," he said, voice softer than Eames had ever recalled it. "No," the Point Man said again. "I'd never tell you how to make your wishes, it was a silly thought."
But, it got the ball rolling for Eames. Why couldn't he wish for Dom to get back to his children? It fit the rules that Arthur had given him in the beginning so many months ago.
No bringing back the dead as it often ended up becoming a terrible tragic mess. No making anyone fall in love with you- it never ended well. And no wishing for more wishes, obviously.
"No," Eames said not liking this timid and servile Arthur- his Arthur could trade biting remarks and smirks, was an amazing shot with a gun, and worked magic both literally and figuratively in and out of dreams. Eames reached for Arthur's hand across their dinner table and squeezed it gently to show that he wasn't mad at him.
Only then did the Point Man look him in the eye.
"No," Eames repeated. "I want it too. Does it fall in the right parameters? Can it be done if I word it correctly?"
When Arthur nodded quickly, Eames began to think of how he would phrase it.
He took a piece of paper and next to his bowl of stew started to scribble on it. Once he was sure he had it right he said, while pointedly leaving out 'I wish', "Dominic Cobb is reunited with his children in America and all charges against him are dropped not due to death or injury to himself or to others."
Arthur smiled at him then, and it was a brilliant smile that Eames always caught out of the corner of his eye when they were working together and playing at disliking each other. Okay, Arthur disliking Eames.
But they were home and they didn't have to worry about playing those roles while there.
"Excellent attention to Wish Master rules," Arthur said still wearing that smile, "but I could add one or two things to make it near to perfect."
The Fischer job would have gone all to hell without Arthur.
Eames' second wish created the groundwork for Dom's success, but there wasn't much that could be done when Dom's projection of his dead wife killed their mark, the train that appeared on a busy street on the first level, and the militarized projections of Fischer's that they had been unaware of despite Arthur's dedicated research! Having them all go down under such heavy sedation making it so death earned them nothing but a one way trip to Limbo with little chance of returning, was a great horror and Dom's lack of care towards the subject was baffling.
There was one thing that Eames could have done- he had his third wish, but he had been thinking of one really good, great thing he could do with it.
On the first level after finding out the news about Yusuf's increasing the sedation at Dom's request, Eames had conferred with Arthur on the subject in private.
"I have the one wish," he said, almost pleading with the look of hurt on Arthur's face. It wasn't like he promised it to Arthur that he would offer him his freedom. Eames had been thinking about it a lot but if he could use this last wish to save them all from Limbo…he would also be sending Arthur back to his laptop to wait for another Master. It wasn't a safety so much as an enslavement for the Point Man.
The subject of Arthur and his state of being was a confusing one. A genie without a real physical body, one would think that it wasn't possible for him to become trapped in a dream. But, according to Arthur, he had been given a new definition after being labeled 'Point Man'. A definition that offered an amount of damning mortality.
"I dream just like all mortal things do, Eames," Arthur said, with a biting tone. "And who says that making your final wish will 'save me' once I'm this deep? And how could you believe I'd abandon you to such a fate?" The silent, 'How could you think that being trapped in my laptop is better than being trapped in this Limbo of yours?' was felt by both.
Their discussion was cut short as Eames had to work his Forgery and Arthur had to participate in Dom's attempts to get numbers to the safe out of Fischer.
Arthur and Eames didn't have a chance to talk until the second level, and even then, all it boiled down to was banter about merry chases and an order for Eames to sleep.
No wishes were made.
Through luck, or magic, or skill.
Eames still wasn't sure how they had managed it.
The Inception had for all appearances taken.
Dom had rescued Saito from Limbo.
All of them; Ariadne, Yusuf, Dom, Saito, and Arthur came out of it fine.
All stood in the airport baggage claim to watch as Dom met his father Miles and left to go and see his children.
Smiling and pleased with the turn of events, Eames couldn't help but ask.
"Was it the wish that did it?"
Arthur said nothing at first. "Maybe. There were quite a few times that I was certain it wasn't going to take, Wish Master rules be damned."
Arthur reached for Eames hand and squeezed tightly. "Thank you for offering your third wish to save us. I know that you were only trying to do the right thing."
Eames wasn't sure what to say.
So he told the truth.
"I didn't care about the right thing for everyone. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't get stuck there- Limbo, it's a dreadful place, darling. What I wanted to wish for was your freedom so you wouldn't get trapped in that damned laptop to wait for another Master to come and claim you or Limbo."
Arthur grew silent and watchful as Eames bit the inside of his cheek and waited.
"Oh," the Point Man said, surprised. He looked at their other team members as they collected their baggage and traded nods with them. All except Ariadne, who clamped onto each person who had risked their lives along with her, and hugged them tightly.
Once alone, or as alone as they could be at baggage claim, it was silently decided that this conversation would go much more smoothly if there were lots of liquor involved.
In a hotel room that Arthur had booked while making all other plans for the Inception, Arthur and Eames drank everything in the minibar and picked at their room service meal.
"Were you being honest, what you said at the airport?" Arthur said, not slurring, but a certain softness coming to his speech with the alcohol on his tongue. As if the words he said would be capable of floating.
Eames smiled. "I love you too much to just wish for everybody else's freedom from that freaking nightmare of a job. It- all it would do was get you trapped back in that laptop to wait for some other poor pauper to get his grubby little mitts on you!"
"I told you that I was sorry for calling you a pauper!" Arthur muttered, slightly embarrassed. "What was I to think when I'd been granting wishes for kings, and drug lords, and important businessmen!"
Both were sitting together at the foot of the large bed.
"What's going to happen when I do grant you you're freedom?" Eames wondered aloud. "Are you going to go someplace else? Find different work? I'd understand, I guess…no, what in the bloody hell am I saying? I'd hunt you down and beg to know why you'd left!"
Arthur shook his head before resting it on Eames' shoulder.
"You have terrible dress sense, it's a little bit better than when I met you but I could still mistake you for a poor penniless pauper. Your humor can be very abrasive. Sometimes you lack tact."
Then Arthur sighed.
"But, I love you're cooking."
When Arthur was silent, Eames groaned. "You love my cooking! You think I have bad clothes and tell worse jokes, and all you love is my cooking?"
"You can also lack tact at certain times," Arthur reminded him thoughtfully.
This got Eames to turn around and face Arthur while they were seated, cupping the man's face in his hands.
"I love you," he said, short and sweet and to the point. "I love you and I could never bear have the one I love be lower than me, be a slave or servant to me. Arthur, I wish for your freedom."
After a soft and gentle meeting of the lips, Eames smiled and said, "And if you're not against it, we could make good use of this lovely bed."
Arthur showed no visible change. If the wish had gone into effect, there was no outward sign. No metaphorical chains had been cut and the laptop that Arthur always clung to and protected with his life wasn't destroyed at those words. Instead, the Point Man raised an eyebrow and smirked.
"Not now dear, I have a headache."
When Eames stared, Arthur began to laugh. It was something he could hardly control and after a moment, Eames joined.
That was one of the benefits of freedom, he thought, getting to choose whether or not he wanted to, right?
But Arthur was already setting to work on Eames' clothes, easily taking away the Forger's confused half smile with a whispered, "You looked so sad, I can't say no. As you wish," he said before pulling the other man into a heated kiss.
The End
A.N- Oh, it was so cute! I think that for the product of a couple of days of thought and five hours of effort, it isn't half bad! Read and review and tell me what you think about it, darlings!
Thanks,
-slash mania