Disclaimer: Inception belongs to Christopher Nolan and Warner Bros.

AN: Many thank yous to my patient reviewers and readers! Love you all so much :') Xmas is almost upon us! Here's a chappie as an early present :)

The Absolute Basic

Chapter Eight

"Ariadne, can you give Eames a call?" Arthur asked as they both arrived at the warehouse.

"Why can't you call him yourself?" she replied with a smirk. "Tired of all his flirting?"

Arthur sighed. "I suppose. But, in all seriousness, I've got a lot on my plate at the moment and I don't have the time."

She raised an eyebrow back at him. "Can't even spare a few minutes for him?"

Arthur threw his grey coat on the hanger with an ugly look on his face. "You're right. I am tired of his flirting."

Ariadne chuckled and unwrapped her scarf from around her neck. "Fair enough. What do you want me to say?"

Arthur passed her a piece of paper with Eames' phone number on it. "Just tell him to send me the info as soon as possible. We need to start deciding on this idea we're gonna plant. We need to stop researching and start implementing."

"That's a very purposeful way of putting it."

Ariadne took out her phone and headed for the sofa, but Arthur put a hand on her arm. He was smiling at her. "Thanks."

She shrugged and looked down at her phone, letting her hair slip a little into her face. "Not a problem."

Ariadne watched him move to the other side of the room, then sighed and sat on a filthy and springy sofa. She punched the numbers into her phone, trying not to think about the way Arthur had smiled at her. She never would have admitted it, but Ariadne had missed that charming, understanding smile.

And his handsome face, of course.

She put the phone to her ear, waiting for Eames to pick up. It took a while, but the line finally clicked through. "Hello?" came Eames' rather throaty voice.

"Hey, it's me," said Ariadne, careful not to use any names just in case Eames was in earshot of anyone. The line was a secure one, but Eames might have been surrounded by Dynasty employees for all she knew. "Can you talk right now?"

"Yup, coast is clear." He sounded groggy.

"Are you sure? Where are you?"

"Nowhere interesting. Just in bed." His voice became louder. "At bloody four o'clock in the morning."

Ariadne froze, then giggled. "Oops. Time zones. Sorry."

"You better be sorry."

"I am. Really sorry."

He sighed heavily, and Ariadne could hear his bed sheets rustling. "What do you want?"

"Arthur wants your research as soon as possible-"

"And we need Yusuf!" Arthur added from across the room.

"-and we need you to bring Yusuf over too," finished Ariadne.

There was a tired silence, then Eames yawned and said, "Oh fine. I'll cut my trip short. Gimme one more day and I'll fly back with Yusuf. I've got pretty much all I need here anyway."

"Good. That's that then. Hope you can get back to sleep."

"I'll work on that. How's Clara?"

Ariadne looked around the spacious warehouse. "She's not in yet. She's doing stuff, but she needs Arthur's research and your stuff to really get going."

"Mhm."

Ariadne could have hung up right there and then, but she decided to ask, "Do you know Clara from before?"

"Yeah."

"Did you guys have a fight or something?"

Silence. "You could call it that."

"And you haven't made up yet?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Ariadne shrugged. "I guessed. Besides, you only asked about her."

"So?"

"You didn't ask how I was doing. Or Arthur."

She could see the grin on his stubbled face. "Apologies. How're you two sweethearts getting along, then?"

Ariadne smiled. "Go to sleep, Mr. Eames."

"Ariadne?" Eames tried, but the line had went dead.

Swearing under his breath, Eames put the phone down and rolled onto his back. The overbearing darkness in the hotel room was not pitch black, but a murky, honeyed colour, covering every inch of the intricate decorations and furniture.

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, consciously trying to relax.

He was trying too hard. It wasn't working.

Falling asleep had become more difficult over the past few years. Dreams - real dreams, natural ones - had come and gone irregularly, and it was scaring him. Sleep had never been so terrifying.

Childishly, he thought back on his conversation with Ariadne. Simply hearing about Clara, even in the most indirect way, was in itself a form of comfort. While he was separated from her like this, he was at least able to (once again) pretend that the miles of land and sea were the cause of their distance, and not because of...whatever that was between them...

"Do you like me?" The question was rushed out his lips.

A smile curling away. "Maybe."

Eames frowned. Muttered: "So...yes."

"Could mean yes. Could mean no."

"You're being very difficult."

"Well, you know what they say: love is hard." Her voice rose and fell like poisonous champagne.

He felt a stone drop in his chest. "So you love me then."

This time, she stared right into his face.

"No, Eames, I don't."

Eames slipped his hands behind his head and watched the light of dawn descend.

Clara jogged her way into the warehouse, shoving the doors closed behind her. She swore that every time she went outside the wind decided to pick itself up. She patted her dry cheeks, trying to get some feeling back into them. She looked up and saw Ariadne working on some scaled down models of the first level, which was still in progress. Arthur was there, too, but he was connected to the PASIV device and looked fast asleep.

"What's he doing?" Clara asked, gesturing to Arthur as she sat down at Ariadne's table.

Ariadne shrugged, peeking past her long hair to look at him. "Not really sure. Trying out some paradoxes, I think."

Clara nodded in approval. "Good, we need all the practise we can get on this one." She thought for a while. "Maybe we could call Cobb for some advice."

Ariadne shook her head.

"Why not?" Clara turned to her.

Ariadne fiddled with her fingers before saying, "Don't tempt him back here. Please. It was so difficult for him to get back to his kids, and he's finally happy now." But at this she let out a shallow laugh. "Well, as happy as he can be without Mal."

Clara could sense the well of protectiveness Ariadne felt for Cobb. It was the same thing Clara herself felt for the man; a sort of unconditional dedication that was akin to loyalty and blind, stupid trust. She didn't pursue the subject; she didn't want to cause any more conflicts with any more of her team members.

But Ariadne sighed. "Since you brought him up, let me tell you this. When I was working with him, he was struggling with Mal's death. A lot. The Inception nearly failed because Mal kept finding her way into the dreams."

Clara didn't like where the conversation was headed. "That's terrible." She looked away and moved her files around the table aimlessly. "Well, at least you managed to pull through."

"Yeah, we were very lucky," Ariadne replied, watching Clara. She gave in and sketched out another level of the dream, experimenting with patterns and layouts. Clara left her to it and opened up her laptop, ready to do more research on Trollope's relationship with his ex-wife and how they had split up.

Everything was quiet, rather hushed. They worked like this for about two hours, making good progress with accumulating details. Ariadne was on another computer, now, finding satellite images and interior designs of the hotel the Trollopes had spent their honeymoon at. The concentrated, mutual silence was only broken by occasional sighs or the scraping of a chair or the scratch of pen on paper. Clara had forgotten how the research phase was actually quite civil, normal. Even a little boring.

At last, someone yawned and stretched. Clara jumped at the noise, then saw Arthur stand up and walk over to one of the windows, massaging his brow. "I'm going to need glasses soon," he said with a little laugh.

Ariadne smirked next to Clara. "You could totally pull off the cute nerd look," she murmured under her breath so that only Clara could hear.

Clara chuckled and gave Ariadne a suggestive look. "Arthur, hm?"

Ariadne shrugged, grinning a little shyly for the first time. "Maybe."

Clara tilted her head to the head. "Does that mean yes?"

Ariadne shook her head. "Just...maybe. We'll see."

"What're you guys talking about over here?" Arthur called from the window.

Clara waved at him and showed him one of Ariadne's sketches. "Still planning. We really need to start bringing this to life. When's Eames coming back?"

"Day after tomorrow. He's cutting his trip short."

Clara nodded. "Good. This is taking way too long. You realize we've got less than a month to work this out?"

Arthur frowned. "It'll be fine. Once everyone's together we can start moving this thing along." He glanced down at his watch. "It's nearly twelve-thirty. Are you guys heading out for lunch?"

Ariadne's head popped up at the mention of food. "Definitely. But can we get something else apart from sandwiches? It's too cold outside."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Sure, get yourself something hot." He made to go back to his desk.

Clara stood up and stretched her arms over her head. "Aren't you coming, Arthur?"

The Pointman shook his head resolutely. "You two go ahead. Like you said, we've got less than a month." He scratched the back of his neck and looked over his shoulder with a grim smile. "I want to make sure I've absolutely got everything so you can start leading the way."

Clara felt a hint of something close to adoration for his words. "You're sweet, Arthur. Thanks. I can get you a drink if you like."

Arthur considered. "Hot chocolate, please."

Clara shrugged on her coat while Ariadne draped a pretty little scarf around her own neck. "You got it." She turned to Ariadne. "Ready?"

The younger woman nodded, and they both set out against the familiar bite of a winter-tainted November noon.

"You can buy him the chocolate," Clara said mischievously, secretly eyeing her companion for a reaction.

Ariadne seemed to glow with the idea of delivering the hot beverage to Arthur, yet her voice was calm and cool. "Sure, okay."

Clara bit her bottom lip in a girlish grin. She didn't know what was getting into her lately, but she found it fun to tease Ariadne. It was almost like a way to destress herself, by taking it out on others. "Eames told me he kissed you."

At this Ariadne threw back her head and laughed gaily. "My God. That guy just can't keep a secret."

"Arthur? Or Eames?" Clara chuckled.

Ariadne pondered the question. "Both," she decided, and they laughed in unison.

"I've been meaning to ask you," the university student went on as they joined the throng of people mingling on the streets. "How did you meet Arthur and the rest?"

"I met Arthur at a pub, believe it or not," Clara mused, "while I was still at university. It was weird. I don't know why but he just looked and seemed like a really interesting guy to talk to. And thank God he didn't find me annoying otherwise I never would have known about the dreams."

"And Eames? How did you meet him?"

"Through Arthur. He brought me back to Cobb's and I sorta scraped into their group."

"But you quit, didn't you?" Ariadne continued to ask. "Arthur told me you haven't been doing Extractions for years."

Clara folded her arms across her chest, weaving her way around the crowd. "Yeah, well, I got fed up of it, I guess."

"Why?"

Clara shrugged. "Guilty conscience. Dangerous people. The lot."

"You must've missed them. The team, I mean. Cobb, Arthur, and Eames."

"Not really, we were...very professional back then."

"Even with Eames?"

Clara's insides were knotted. "Yeah. Just...professional."

"Really?" A beat's hesitation. "Clara..."

"What?"

"You can tell me the truth. You have to. Don't be like Cobb-"

"Oh look, let's go in here. We mustn't keep Arthur waiting for that hot chocolate."