DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.

Just something to keep you all hanging on until after Christmas. Enjoy!

Harvey Walton never particularly liked the taste of whiskey. He thought it was an old man's drink, and something that never really took to his taste buds. But often, certain circumstances called for a little kick. And this was most certainly one of those times.

He lay one of his hands on his old, wooden desk, and twisted a glass of amber liquid around in the other. A heavy sigh caused his shoulders to fall, giving him a down-trodden, tired look about him.

Since when did things become so complicated? There was a time in his life where everything was in perfect order. The company was in full bloom, and his family life couldn't have been better. But now things seemed to have turned, and although public-eye buisness men such as him should stay away from such things as dream-sharing criminals, it seemed that times had turned that desperate. Things like these were necessary.

He'd be damned if he said that he didn't hate himself for doing this to his own brother. But passing it along without any justification would just be one big 'fuck you' to the old man. His father (God rest his soul), who'd spent most of his life creating and developing this company to it's finest, would not want it all to be thrown away in a mere whim towards gambling and drinking. Despite himself, Harvey knew that he couldn't trust his brother again. Not after...certain complications.

Leaning back, the man reached into one of his desk drawers, and produced a long-time hidden packet of cigarettes. His guilty pleasure. Shuffling around for a lighter, he managed to find one that just was in working order, before flicking the flame and lighting a smoke. He brought it to his lips, inhaled, and blew out the smoke in a welcoming cloud around him.

Arthur. Dear, poor, brilliant Arthur. Or as he was known, a Point Man. Harvey really had no idea what that was, but he guessed that it must have been important for Arthur to have qualified.

When he heard his name in the search for an Extraction team, he hadn't been all that surprised. Knowing Arthur since a young age, Harvey understood that he was a far more surperior mind than most of the kids they knew. He was smart, and wise-enough to just keep on the good side of things.

But then there was the ever complex issue of wondering. Questioning. Would it be right to involve Arthur in a case this personal? After all those years?

Harvey remembered the shock he felt. The disappointment, almost. Seeing Arthur, his old friend as such a...robot. Like everything had been sucked out of him, leaving nothing but a man in a suit. The world didn't need another one of those. Of course, he was still confident, still controlled, but it seemed like everything had been increased to the extreme. He couldn't for the life of him understand the dream buisness if he tried. How was it that they were modelled and moulding into perfect working machines like Arthur, and behind him, trail little girls of bright colours and creative minds just like the young Architect that was with him?

She had been so young, Harvey recalled. Couldn't have been just a few months out of College. Christ.

How did someone like her get involved in dream-sharing? Into this...corporate scandal? Did she even want to be there? Did Arthur approve? Did he even want to be there?

So many questions. More than he knew the answers to.

Not that he even had the time to find out the answers, because as always, the clock was ticking. The fate of his company, his relationship with his brother, and most importantly, the welfare of everyone around him was about to be tested. Now that the cards were on the table, things were certainly about to get more interesting. And all because he'd just recieved a phone call.

A phone call, explaining that his brother Andrew had decided to take a work-break. Not that he ever did any work, anyway. But that didn't matter. Arthur had told him to inform him of any passing chance in which the Extraction could take place. Well, if there was any time good enough, this was it.

Removing the cigarette from his lips, Harvey sighed. He quickly stubbed it out in the ashtray beside him, and reached forward to grasp his phone. After punching in the number written on a small piece of paper, he brought it to his ear and waited for the dial tone.

It was a mere two rings before he could hear Arthur's voice on the other line.

"Harvey."

"Yeah, Art...it's me," the man sighed, rubbing his hand once over his face. "...It's time."