Disclaimer: I don't own Inception and I receive no profit from writing this story.

A/N: A special thanks to all those who voted or reviewed with their opinion about my poll! I will take all your comments into careful consideration.

I'm sorry for not updating sooner. My plan was to put up chapter ten before I left for school, but obviously that didn't happen. I apologize and I'll try to get on the ball again. It feels good to be writing, but I'm also really busy now so as I said updates will no longer be every day or couple of days. Thanks for putting up with that guys!

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Chapter 10

The next afternoon, Arthur appeared at the Cobb's door faithfully on time. He was sporting one of his new suits, minus the jacket. His tie was loosened ever so slightly, and the first button was not done on his shirt. It was going to take him a while to get used to this lifestyle, but Mal had said that when he was with his employer he should be dressed appropriately and she was, though only for training's sake, his employer. He rang the bell and waited patiently for her to answer. To his surprise, it was Cobb who came to the door first. It was unclear to him why this should be a surprise—maybe because he assumed Cobb would be working during the day, though where he had never bothered to wonder—but he couldn't think of anything to say to the man behind the door for some time.

"That's a nice look for you," Cobb said with a hint of repressed smirk crossing his features. Arthur gave the older man a pointed glare. "Come on in, she's just putting Phillipa to bed." Cobb stepped aside to let the Point-Man-in-training inside as he spoke and Arthur slid past him wordlessly.

"Mal," Cobb called to his wife as he closed the door.

"I'll be there in a minute," she answered over the screams of a supposedly "not tired" Phillipa.

"Make yourself at home," the Extractor said, sweeping his hand to indicate the couches.

Arthur chose to remain standing. He realized it had been a few days since he and Cobb had been alone together, and neither of them knew what to talk about. Now that Mal had taken over training, they had nothing to discuss. Before, their conversations had been almost completely work related. The silence that stretched between them clearly showed that they weren't comfortable talking about anything else. Finally, clearing his throat awkwardly, Cobb turned to Arthur.

"So how's it coming?" he asked.

"Alright," Arthur replied evasively. "We should probably settle on a time to start work on the construction of the dream."

"Whenever," Cobb agreed, sliding his hands into his pockets.

"Already done with your research?" came Mal's voice as she entered the room, looking slightly disheveled from putting her almost-toddler to bed.

"Almost," Arthur admitted. "I do have some things I'd like to go over with you first though, before we start the dream construction."

"Fine," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She was heading toward the kitchen, and Arthur followed at a distance. Reaching into the cupboard and removing a bottle of aspirin, she said firmly, "I don't think we'll get to it today."

Arthur fought back the need to demand why it was she seemed opposed to helping him. Instead, he gave a very short nod, proud of himself for seeming so in control.

"Today, we learn posture." She turned to face him, a glass of water in one hand, the aspirin in the other, and a look of excitement in her pretty face.

"Posture?" he repeated incredulously. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard Cobb snort in the background.

"Mmm hmm," she said as she swallowed her pills, unable to get out anything else. She put the glass down and motioned for him to follow her into the living room.

Arthur obeyed, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Cobb returning to his study at the opposite end of the house.

Mal closed the door behind them. Then, she headed straight for the desk which she leaned up against, sitting delicately on the edge. She looked expectantly at him and he stood there stupidly, unsure what to do. Finally, he took his bag off of his shoulder and dropped it by the couch. He was about to sit, but Mal made a correctional sound very similar to the one he remembered his high school English teacher using.

"Don't sit!" she commanded. "I said we're learning posture today."

"Then what do you want me to do?" he asked, feeling a little bit exasperated by both her and her husband's seeming love of keeping him in the dark.

"I want you to stand there." She said it as though it were obvious.

With a sigh, he obeyed. He leaned his weight on one leg, which subconsciously he knew gave him the appearance of having an attitude problem, but he felt just a tad irritated at the moment and didn't really care. Mal's eyes took in his every move, however, and he could see her mentally calculating the judgments of his movements.

"So," she began, leaning back so that she had to brace herself by putting her arms behind her. It was done with flawless motion so that it seemed graceful and at ease. "You're taking to a possible employer. How do you stand when you greet them?"

It seemed like a silly thing to be teaching him, but he immediately changed his posture so he was standing straight, his arms at his sides. Within a second of the change, Mal made a disapproving noise and shook her head.

"You look like you've got a stick up your cul," she said sharply. Arthur didn't know whether to laugh or be offended. He understood the French, of course, but he wasn't sure if he was taken aback by it or not.

He thought for a moment, then crossed his arms, trying to look more casual.

"I cannot tell if you're trying to look like the Secret Service, or if you're sulking." She was smirking as she spoke.

His arms dropped back to his side in frustration.

"Now you're angry."

He shifted his weight.

"Nervous."

His head tilted backwards in annoyance as he rolled his eyes.

"A teenager with a temper."

It was clear she was having fun with this, though Arthur could feel his irritation mounting. "What do you think I should do then?" he demanded, pleased with how level his voice was.

She slid off the desk and came to stand beside him. "You need to seem confident without being overbearing or arrogant. How do you do that?"

He allowed himself to think before he responded. His feet spread slightly so that he wasn't standing so straight, but he wasn't leaning to one side either. Most of his weight was on his right foot, but he didn't allow himself to look lopsided. Then, remembering how he'd seen Cobb do this time and time again, he slid one hand into his pocket, letting the other rest as his side casually.

"Much better," Mal said with an approving smile. "You see," she stepped forward and pointed to the hand in his pocket, "this allows you to look at ease, like you're comfortable. And this," she tapped his free hand with her index finger, "allows you to use your hand to talk. Which is always good. It makes you seem more animated, more interesting. And your stance needs to be in control, but not stiff. This is much better."

"I really don't get why this is important," he pointed out, though he was beginning to feel less upset with her already.

"Trust me," she said with a knowing smile, "your posture can make or break your professionalism faster than your wardrobe. It's important."

Then, turning towards the desk again, she spoke to Arthur with her back to him. "Now, where are your eyes?" She sat at the edge of the desk again, watching him intently.

"My eyes?" he repeated, a little confused.

"Where do you look?" she restated the instruction, settling herself into a more comfortable position. "While you're talking to him, where should you be looking?" she continued when Arthur didn't respond.

He licked his lips as he though. "At his eyes," he said slowly, like it was a question.

She cocked her head to one side. "Why?"

"It makes you look more confident," he said without conviction.

"That's true," she agreed, "but you don't want to look intimidating, either. Make sure you allow your eyes to follow other people and things. This gives you an air of…" she thought for a moment before continuing, "You seem like you've got options that way. It makes it so you don't seem like you're overly desperate for a job. You understand?"

He nodded, though he had to think it over. It was true that seeming slightly disinterested did give you the appearance of having multiple options. But was that always a good thing?

"What if I don't have other options?" he asked finally.

"Extractors are rare and expensive," Mal said like this should be obvious. "Anyone who wants to hire you is probably the desperate one. Take advantage of that, but use professionalism. Seem only slightly like you're the one actually controlling the situation. You don't want to make them feel like you'll take advantage of them or like you don't take things seriously."

He nodded again, this time responding to her advice.

"In general there are a few things you should remember about how you hold yourself while in the presence of an employer." She stood again, holding her hands together in front of her. "One, professionalism is key. Two, you must seem in control. Three, you must seem relaxed." She turned to face him. "Always."

"Right," he agreed shortly.

"Now," she was pacing, but she didn't seem agitated. More like a queen inspecting her surroundings with the air of authority. "How should you be sitting?"

XXX

Mal held the door of the living room open for Arthur as their session came to a close, looking pleased with his performance that day. He was about to leave when he hesitated for a moment, thinking of all he millions of questions he wanted to ask. His trainer tilted her head to one side inquisitively, watching his expression carefully.

"What is it, Arthur?" she asked, not unkindly.

He took a deep breath and then turned to confront her. "When am I actually going to start some real training?" he demanded, though he managed to keep his voice level. "I mean, I supposed I've learned a lot these past two days but it seems completely irrelevant. I'm having to plan this job entirely on my own, but I have no idea if I'm doing it right or not."

Mal listened patiently to his rant. Then, smiling to herself, she began with a very simple phrase. "It will take time, Arthur," she said softly. "It took Dom and me years to figure out how to do things properly. We made many mistakes. But you don't have time to learn that way. I'm teaching you now all the things I'd wished I knew before I tried to be Dom's Point. Everything else…that will come. But I can't waist a moment; you have much to learn and not much time to do it in."

Arthur watched her silently. She met his gaze evenly. He couldn't tell what the tone in her voice was. It wasn't regret, or sadness, but there was a hint of much greater knowledge than he certainly had telling him that he was still new to this and she was the authority. His face flushed ever so slightly.

"I know this is not how you'd prefer it be done, but please, we must do it at my pace," she said it simply but with power.

He nodded. He didn't know what else to do.

Mal opened the door a little wider. "Dom wants to do some more dream training with you tomorrow," she said as he passed her. "He doesn't want you to get out of practice."

"Right," Arthur answered dully.

"Then, after that, you can ask me your questions and start on your dream creation." She said it like she was offering a little child a reward after patiently waiting through a tedious task.

"Right," he repeated. He felt short on words suddenly.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said. And with that she turned to walk down the hall to retrieve her crying child—a sound Arthur had only just then noticed.

XXX

A/N: This chapter is shorter than I would have liked, but this is all I can think to put in this one. The next one, I promise, will have more!