~There will be a Part 8-Apathy Aftermath, Piece II in Ariadne's POV next. Lacey Bishop is Christina Hendricks. Google her if you need an image. Sorry for the late update! Enjoy-MsArtemis~
Part 8- Apathy Aftermath, Piece I
At Cobb's hurried exit, Ariadne struggled to reach her feet, her eyes filled to the brim with remorse and regret. Arthur caught what she was trying to do- coming around to the side of the chair she was attempting to get off of, he put his hands on her shoulders and pressed down firmly. He strove for total dominance over his poker face, even when she whipped around and regarded him with scalding caramel eyes.
"You need to stay still. Your injuries are still healing." She was half-way up now, sitting straight with a barely contained grimace. An unbidden gasp came out from behind her teeth, but she still managed to use it, twisting the hiss into a sentence.
"Let me go, Arthur."
The words were so full of malice that it stung his palms, which lay upon her bare shoulders. He dropped them sluggishly, as if she had taken all his energy with her one snide comment. With one last heave she reached her feet, precariously teetering on her heels before him. He stood there frozen-for what could he do to change her mind? "Excuse me." She muttered…he moved aside, watching as she disappeared out the ware-house exit.
Her faint call managed to reach his ears: "Cobb?"
His curiosity got the better of him.
At ten in the morning on a weekday, Paris was practically bursting at the seams with life-traffic was smothering, hundreds of coffee-boys were sprinting, and the number of people on bikes had multiplied since the day before. The weather, which was full of sunshine with the occasional breeze, probably added to the appeal of going out as well.
Arthur, however, was still wearing one of his typical outfits despite the warmer climate. His slacks were the richest of blacks, his long sleeved button-up shirt a matching color only with silver pinstripes. Adding to the outfit was a tie, which was the same luminescent grey color of the shirt-stripes. He didn't have the usual vest or jacket, but he was confident that the clean, crisp, professional look he admired so much resided within the outfit he had created two hours earlier, the very one in which he now wore.
Finally pulling out of the traffic he stamped on the gas pedal, eating gravel with ease. Speeding up an alley he slowed down, turning right, then left, then another left until he found himself across the street from the infamous ware-house. Unsuspecting people continually past the glossy, wooden front doors, moving on to their destination which lay in the bank a block down or a law firm another block over.
The ware-house's appearance was completely contradictory; by looking at it one would assume it was a library or something else distinguished and benign, something that fit in with this seemingly classy down-town district. Not a place where world-class criminals and thieves gathered daily and tested their insane theories while they slept…
His silver Toyota Camry (A rental; the latest edition with a leather interior and all the added oddities-it was American-just so that if anyone caught his appearance through the tinted windows they would assume he was some naïve tourist racing to catch sight of the Eiffel tower and not a wanted thief.) –slid around to the vacant parking lot that lay behind the ware-house. No one saw his entrance-stepping out of the car he clicked the lock button before slipping the car keys in his pocket. He turned towards the back door and took in all the empty parking spaces-he was the first one to arrive. The black pavement and yellow lines temporarily lit up his vision, for he'd been here the night before, looking in on something that he shouldn't have seen…
Ariadne touched Cobb's unshaven jaw with her fingertips-even from this distance he could see the ferocity in the others gaze, the way they didn't break eye contact as they whispered. He had not seen this coming-he had not predicted this…for God's sake, why hadn't he? Cobb took her hand away so gently-at the action Arthur felt some kind of sting, his breath snapping like a rubber band in his throat. And they were still staring-and they were holding hands. Each ones hand was casually enveloped in the others as her tiny fingers fell away from his face…Something similar to an electric tidal wave shook through Arthur-a fierce pain that he could not deny, nor ignore-and since he was not meant to be in this picture anyways, he left.
It was eventually the memories of the night before that forced him to sweep up his baggage, shut and lock the car, and push his way into the warehouse. The circle of lawn chairs stood as depleted as before, as he placed the silver briefcase on the table in the center. The plan today was simple: they would learn about the mark. Lacey was the one, who weeks ago, had supplied him with the information on the case. She would be the one to introduce the case to the other team members as well. On top of the PASIV he placed his other package; a gift for Lacey. It was her favorite coffee drink (Vanilla latte with a sprinkling of cinnamon), straight from Star Bucks-he told himself that it was a thank you gift for presenting them with the opportunity to make a fortune. That was it, partly-the other part consisted of his way of coping, a pain-reliever for the things he had seen in the parking lot hours before.
To be honest, Arthur hadn't had many relationships. The precious few that he'd taken seriously had ended up being wastes of time. Lacey, at first, had been an exception. She was bold, colorful, didn't hold anything back; she could practically be Eames' sister, and Arthur still had been attracted to her. She was ravishing, something that had set his blood on fire at first sight. He didn't want to face her, for she was dangerous; and both of them being in the same room after four years was just about as good as playing with matches. Nothing good would come of it, really-unless he played his cards as well as her. For she was a drama-starter, always had been-and he was ready for it. His examination of the PASIV now successful (everything was in place, just as planned) he slammed the lid shut, officially shutting off all thought processes until the others arrived.
Twenty minutes after Arthur's arrival, Cobb, Yusuf, and Eames had entered the warehouse. They all arrived with seconds of each other, receiving a crack from Eames about how compatible they all were. Arthur was pulling the whiteboard from their previous job out of a closet at the far end of the room, dragging it over in order to place it at the head of the lawn chair-circle.
Cobb walked in, wearing his professional tux and plopped down in the chair south of the whiteboard and silver briefcase. "When will Lacey be arriving?" he questioned, while Eames, in one of his usual bright outfits, sat in the chair to Cobb's left.
"She didn't mention a time." Arthur answered, his voice dead and unimpressed. Frankly, it pissed him off that she was rude enough to send him a text at one in the morning, saying: I'll be there sometime in the morning. No need to worry.
But that's what she had intended to do, make him angry. And in expecting that, he refused to react to her presence, at least, while she was on this case.
Currently Yusuf was over in his chemical area, preparing the sedative for insertion.
"How much longer Yusuf?" Arthur called.
"It is done-just a last minute check."
It was then that the ware-house door slammed shut, announcing another guest. Everyone turned towards the door, expecting to see their faithful Architect.
But standing there, in front of the door, was Lacey Bishop.
"Miss me?" she cooed, a slim hand landing on a curved hip. Arthur attempted at nonchalance as he scanned her outfit, deathly silence reigning over the room.
She wore a shimmery turquoise dress that offset her creamy skin and matched her eyes to the exact shade. It had straps that led to a v-neck that displayed her rather huge assets tastefully as well as cinch warmly at her waist. The hem fluttered above her knees, free to do as it pleased. Her feet were displayed by golden gladiator sandals that completed the outfit to a 'T'. Her hair was a luxurious strawberry blonde that looked more ruby at times than gold-at the moment it was piled high atop her head in a beehive fashion, only a few curls allowed to escape. The small curls drew attention to her thin face, her lips a slim pink package just below her sharp nose. Her aquamarine eyes were shaped like a cat's-they openly glittered, as she stared directly at Arthur, as if she was laughing at him noiselessly.
He didn't satisfy her with an answer, but she seemed to take his lack of a reply as encouragement. She caught sight of Eames: "Eames-how are you? Long time no speak mi cheri." Her voice was poisonous, images of lace and daggers coming to mind as she spoke. Eames rose to his feet slowly, as if in awe, before walking towards her, arms open. "You're telling me, Lace! How long has it been now? Four years?"
"You remembered." She cooed, ignoring the implied four years since you and Arthur split.
Yusuf, almost against his will, so stunned by her presence was he, took her purse when she handed it to him, wandering back to the Chemist area in order to place it somewhere. Arthur almost felt sorry for the Chemist-Lacey had always been stunning, almost always seemingly glowing from head to toe.
Yet, somehow, years ago, Cobb had seen past the glow before Arthur had. At that moment Cobb was sitting still, eyeing Lacey with clear distrust as she and Eames embraced.
As they pulled apart Eames announced: "We must all go drinking sometime. Reminisce the good days and all that."
"We must."
With that she walked around the circle, ending at the head, where Arthur currently stood. Reaching his side she stepped in front of him, shutting out everyone else.
"I see you got my favorite drink." She whispered, her fingers seemingly drawn to his shoulder. Her perfect nails scratched on his starched shirt as she peered into his face with coy cat-eyes. He controlled his facial expression perfectly-because frankly, as alluring as her closeness and her cherry-blossom perfume was, deep down he couldn't help but not respect her.
"I did." He replied, his words muted as he struggled to keep their conversation to themselves. She smiled at him silently, her hand beginning to make a trail down his arm. His muscles tightened where she touched and he reached out, his hand gripping her wrist like iron. Her eyes dashed to his, smirking up at him, enjoying the game. His own eyes narrowed as he thrust her hand away.
"Well someone's not happy to see me."
"You could say that."
Another door slam-Arthur took the distraction gratefully, peering around Lacey to see Ariadne stride briskly into the lawn-chair circle. Her hair was down, the natural mix of mochas and caramels hiding her face from view. She wore a creamy long-sleeved white shirt dress with the design of a black blow across the front, ashy skinny jeans, black heeled boots, and a purple scarf. It was typical Ariadne-but it made his heart ache ever so briefly; for whom else was looking at her as well, but Cobb? Arthur looked away very quickly, meeting Lacey's curious gaze with his own. He expected her to speak, so he cut off any chance of her opening her mouth quickly: "Everyone's here. Time for you to take the spotlight." And with that, he brushed past her, sitting at the chair nearest to him.
Before Ariadne could sit, Cobb spoke up. "Ariadne-we're going to be going into your mind today." She stopped walking, half-way to the chair next to Eames. "So you will need to sit-" Cobb nodded at the chair nearest to Lacey and the whiteboard, "there. It's the chair nearest to the PASIV."
"Why me?"
"Just to see if you are rusty." At that Ariadne fixed Cobb with a gaze of utter fire-Cobb stared back coolly, obviously testing her patience openly somehow. Arthur struggled-what was he missing here? Cobb had said something he shouldn't have, something implied…
"Fine. Whatever is best." She murmured-and ignoring Lacey's presence altogether, sat in the chair with a heavy sigh. Lacey, not unlike a lioness eyeing her prey, scored her eyes up and down Ariadne's small form once before snatching the limelight, as usual. Stepping around so that she stood before the PASIV she faced Ariadne, smiling down on her like a petulant child.
"So, you are Ariadne?"
"Yes. You've heard of me?" Ariadne looked up, meeting Lacey's gleaming cat eyes with an emotionless mask. Frankly, Arthur had seen more sides of Ariadne in the past few days than he cared to admit-he'd seen her switch from furious to empty so many times it was practically routine. If he hadn't worked with her on the Inception job, he might be mistaken in assuming that those distasteful traits took up her personality.
"Why of course, dear!" Lacey fluttered her eyelashes, crossing her arms in a manner of one who has experienced more than the other. "Who hasn't heard the rumors of an architect better than the great Dominic Cobb?"
Cobb's eyes turned steely at his name, glancing up at Lacey with something along the lines of hatred. It wasn't until Cobb glanced back at the ground that Arthur realized the older man's gaze had been one of hatred because he wanted to protect Ariadne. He felt as if Ariadne was being attacked by Lacey-and by all means, Arthur couldn't find an answer to defend her. Because anyway you looked at it, that's what Lacey was doing.
"Glad to know you've heard of me. I'm sorry-I can't say I know you though."
"Understandable. You're new. You'll learn in time."
Cobb growled under his breath, Arthur grit his teeth, Yusuf watched on curiously, and Eames was growing bored by the developing drama.
Lacey seemed to sense the change in the atmosphere, and is if flicking off a switch, she instantly warmed up. "I'm Lacey Bishop-nice to meet you." Her voice was cordial as she offered her hand to Ariadne, the long manicured nails gleaming in the sunlight from the few warehouse windows. Ariadne's mask slipped, her eyes widening in surprise.
Arthur almost wanted to reach out, to warn her that Lacey was just acting. That that's what she does and she should not be trusted. But of course, Ariadne was angry at him and would no doubt despise his input so he said and did naught.
Ariadne leaned forward in order to shake the other woman's hand, barely wincing as her bullet wound curved with the movement. So Lacey wasn't the only woman who was an actor after all-because Arthur knew how much that wound had to hurt by now-it had to be burning as it healed by this point. He unconsciously kept staring at Ariadne as Yusuf slid the sedative into the PASIV, as she placed the needle into her arm-she barely winced at the sting, and Arthur half-wondered if being shot had increased her pain immunity.
During Inception she had struggled with the needles-now she slipped it under the skin easy, her arm only constricting the tiniest bit. As she glanced up, flipping the hair out of her face, pink lips wide open-Arthur couldn't help but notice how she looked waner than before, as if the needle had stolen necessary energy.
Lacey grabbed one of her lattes, sipped it, and placed it next to her chair, which was to the left of Eames and to the right of Ariadne. Seeing the team all unwinding the PASIV strings she followed suit, grabbing a string and tugging it to her seat. Cobb looked up one more time as the team laid down, needles inserted-Arthur turned his head to the side, glancing across Yusuf in order to see Ariadne. Her eyes were sliding shut as Cobb spoke, his voice rebounding off the walls.
"Lacey, tell us about the mark once we're in. Ariadne-take us anywhere."
The Extractor's voice fell in with Arthur everything gave way to shadow-the last thing he saw was Ariadne asleep, her face the clearest he'd seen in days.