Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you.

Ariadne shivered. The air was sharp, with a clear golden light. The brooding, dark hulks of factories and warehouses surrounded them. They were in the industrial part of a town, and as they looked, they could see rows of streets stretching ahead of them by turning right. She looked at the others.

"Well, where do we start?"

Cobb surveyed the surroundings. "We start with Arthur and myself going to the local bar to find him. You and Eames can start searching further back in the town."

"Why you and Arthur?"

"Because we'll look like a pair of undercover cops." Cobb spoke authoratively, but his heart was racing. The maze was well constructed, with Ariadne having perfected even the tiniest detail down to the glint of sunlight off glass, but he was painfully aware of the hostile projections they could encounter within Jensen's mind. So far, they could hear the clattering grind of the factories working, but had not encountered any people.

"What makes you think he'll be in a bar?" Ariadne tried again.

Cobb shrugged. "Lucky guess. Lets assume that's where he'll be, and if not, we'll ask."

Eames spoke. "OK. We have three days in this layer to find Jensen and question him. Lets try and make it out in 24 hours."

Cobb turned to the Forger. "Eames, this is your dream. I need you to build sites that you think he's likely to go to, and Arthur and I will check them out. You two need to keep the projections under observation."

The Forger nodded. "Got it."

Cobb then turned to Arthur, who looked perfectly composed. "You. Lets go."


The walk to the bar was through side streets. As the two men approached, they became aware that this part of the dream was rooted in the seedier part of the maze. A strip club, with "XXX LIVE GIRLS" flashing in neon pink lights approached them. A young woman was standing outside, smoking. She looked at Arthur.

"Hey cutie, want a show?"

"Not my thing," he answered, casually, but turned to Cobb.

"What on earth?"

"Projection," the Extractor reminded him. Arthur shook his head, and reached in his pocket, worrying at his loaded die. They turned a corner, and passed an adult video store, and another club, advertising pole dancing. Arthur shivered.

"I could make a crack about Eames building this world-"

"Save it," Cobb interrupted. "We're here." Arthur looked up. They were standing in front of a run down building, its wooden front battered by years of temperamental weather. A faded golden name at the top branded the bar "BEAUMAN'S."

Cobb nodded. "Lets go."

As they entered, a stale smell of cigarette smoke and dried sweat hit Arthur in the back of his throat, making him dry retch. The bar was practically full, and predominantly male. Several turned to look at the two men, their faces creasing with hostility.

Cobb approached the bar. "Excuse me?"

A sullen looking woman looked up. "Yeah?"

"Two beers, please."

Grudgingly, the woman reached down to pull out two glasses. Arthur stood near the bar, scanning for any sign of Jensen. His eyes skipped over the male crowd, realising he was pulling glares in return. Blushing, he lowered his gaze to the counter.

Then he turned. A large man was approaching him, reeking slightly of alcohol.

"You lookin' at me, man?" he was mumbling, but Arthur detected the trace of menace.

"No," the Point Man responded calmly. "I'm looking for someone."

Cobb's fingers tightened on the edge of the bar. They were attracting the projections already, who had already noticed them as interlopers. Jensen's subconscious was starting to try and protect him.

"Oh, yeah?" The man had an ugly leer, and exhaled booze soaked fumes into Arthur's face. "You sure you're not looking for- trouble?"

A couple of men near the bar laughed without humour. Cobb could feel his heart begin to pound. He wished Arthur would just walk away.

"No, I'm looking for someone." Arthur's gaze was steady. "Trust me, its not you."

Arthur turned. The man grabbed his shoulder. "Not so fast, pretty boy."


Eames walked quickly, and Ariadne was finding herself almost jogging to keep up. Both of them were turning into the main part of the town, and she was noticing they were attracting stares from everyone.

"They're all looking at us," she observed, nervously.

Eames grimaced. "Lets keep walking. Chances are, they've cottoned on."

"What do you think is happening to Arthur and Cobb?"

Eames looked at her. "I suspect they've probably found him. Its my dream, I'm trying to facilitate that they'll go to obvious places for him."

"Such as?"

Eames raised his eyebrows. "The red light district."

Ariadne smiled faintly. "I should have guessed."


Arthur turned and faced the man. "Please, don't do that."

The man's face was beginning to take on an openly hostile look. "Or you'll what? I'll snap you like a twig!"

Arthur remained calm, and from his pocket, pulled out a badge. "I'll arrest you. Police."

The man's jaw dropped, and he backed off. Mumbling an obscenity, he turned and fled. Cobb exhaled, not realising until then he'd been holding his breath. He turned to the barmaid, whose face was beginning to register shock.

"Is there a phone book in here?"

She nodded. "Yeah, over by the pay phone." She pointed.

"Thanks." He grabbed Arthur's sleeve. "Come on." They hurried to the secluded corner, where a greasy black rotary dial phone hung on the wall. Rifling through the phone book, Cobb located "Jensen, Michael, 412 Pynchon Avenue." He ripped the page out. "Arthur. Lets go."

Arthur walked out of him. "That was-"

"Save it, we don't' have time." Cobb interrupted, He ignored the look of annoyance on the Point Man's face. "Pynchon Avenue." He turned, and noticed a cab driving down the street. He gestured, and it stopped.

Quick as a flash, Arthur was in the passenger seat, pointing a gun in the driver's face. "Pynchon Avenue. Don't ask questions, I will shoot you. Understand?"

The driver nodded, dumbly, as Cobb got in the back. Arthur waved the gun. "Drive."


Fran checked her watch, and bit her lip. 5 minutes had passed. She looked at the silent dreamers, and then at the PASIV.

"Please hurry," she muttered.


Eames' cellphone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket. "Hello?"

"Pynchon Avenue, that's where he's hiding." Cobb's voice was urgent. "Can you guys meet us there?"

Eames nodded. "Of course." He turned to Ariadne. "OK, lets go. They may have found him."


Pynchon Avenue was burnt out, Arthur observed. As the cab swung round the corner, Arthur instructed the driver to stop.

"Right here." He pulled out a ten. "Thank you."

Both men approached a gloomy apartment block. Entering, they noticed that the elevator was displaying a prominent sign – "OUT OF ORDER."

"Very lucid dreaming," Arthur commented, and Cobb shrugged. "Its 412, it'll be on the fourth floor. Lets walk."

The stairs were rickety, and coated with dust. The staleness of the atmosphere kept hitting Arthur in the back of his throat, and he coughed. Cobb climbed fixedly on. Eventually, they reached the fourth floor.

"412," Cobb reminded Arthur.

"I'm on it." The Point Man picked up his pace; he was practically running. After one turn of a corner, they were standing in front of scratched, battered door. "412" was displayed in brass letters.

Cobb banged on it. "Open up! Police!"

Another door opened. Arthur turned round. A large, heavy man was approaching, holding a piece of what looked suspiciously like lead piping. "What the hell do you-"

Arthur fired, and he collapsed, groaning. Cobb looked at him.

"That was a little-"

"-efficient." The Point man finished. "He's not going to open it, let's kick it-"

Suddenly, the door swung open. Jensen was peering behind it. His eyes widened.

"Fuck! No!" He exclaimed, and bolted.

Arthur was straight in. "No you don't!"

"Arthur!" Cobb shouted. "ARTHUR!"