AN: Oh, wow, I've left this story for almost a year?! Dear lord. Right, back to writing I go. ;_;" So sorry. Please be warned that further updates would probably be infrequent and scarce. Also I'm sorry for plot mistakes, I'll be rewriting earlier chapters when I get the time.

Disclaimer: Inception belongs to Christopher Nolan and Warner Bros.

The Absolute Basic

Chapter Twelve

"I've forgotten how crowded the Tube can get."

Clara grinned. "Tell me about it. This is way worse than the MTR in Hong Kong."

The underground train shot through its dimly lit tunnel, carrying its precious cargo of commuters packed tightly in small, confining carriages. Clara was standing at what she thought was an inappropriately close distance to Yusuf - and several other individuals - as they both tried to stay upright by hanging onto the same overhead handrail. The sudden jerks from the twists and turns of the train did nothing to help their balance. The dull smell of sweat and cheap perfumes rose unpleasantly to her.

"Where did you say your office was?" Clara asked, shifting to her left as a woman stumbled over her own feet.

"It's near Leicester Square," Yusuf reminded, glancing up at the Tube map plastered above the dark windows. "We're nearly there...thank God. Two more stops."

After ten more minutes of suffocating proximity, Clara followed Yusuf off the train and toward the exit. At one point she nearly lost sight of the man, but she soon caught up with him at the ticket barriers after pushing her way past a whole bunch of people.

"You all right?" asked Yusuf once she appeared by his side.

Clara smiled wearily and brushed some hair out of her face. "Feeling a bit claustrophobic, if I'm honest. But I'll live."

Yusuf nodded and gestured toward one of the staircases heading up to ground level. They ended up on a windy street leading up to Leicester Square. Both sides of the street were lined with fancy restaurants, bars, take-away stalls selling ice-cream and waffles. The warm smell of food and desserts was tempting, but the pair weren't here to indulge in the many tastes and sights.

"This way," said Yusuf, beckoning Clara to one side. He led her down a narrower street, then a series of alleyways. They ended up on a road that wasn't far from London Chinatown. There weren't as many people here as there were in the center of Leicester Square, but they were still surrounded by strangers.

Clara's eyes landed on a neat pharmaceutical shop. Through the viewing window, she could see rows of shelves topped with bottles of pills and packets of various bandages. The small shop was empty except for a dark-skinned man behind the counter, dressed in a clean shirt and jeans. He was reading a newspaper.

Yusuf rapped on the glass door of the shop and walked inside, holding the door open for Clara. "Colby," Yusuf greeted the other man.

The shopkeeper - Colby - looked up from his newspaper and a grin lit up his features. The lankier man stood and walked over to the pair. "Yusuf! It's been a while, my friend," he exclaimed, offering his hand instantly.

Yusuf shook his hand good-naturedly. "It has, indeed. I'm sorry I haven't visited in so long. Mombasa keeps me busy. Colby, this is Clara, my colleague on one of my most recent projects," Yusuf introduced the two to each other.

Colby dipped his head in acknowledgement, then turned back to Yusuf. "So, I'm guessing you're here for a special favour?"

Yusuf smirked. "How right you are. For my current project, I need to alter one of my compounds, and I don't have access to any other facilities at the moment. So, I was wondering if you would allow me to use your private lab?" He sighed apologetically. "I know it's very short notice, but-"

"Not another word!" Colby interrupted, and he placed a firm hand on Yusuf's arm. "You just should've called. You are always welcome to work here, it is my pleasure."

Yusuf grinned toothily. "You're too kind. Thank you very much."

Colby waved away his gratitude and led them through a door at the back of the shop. They walked down a short corridor before reaching a number of rooms. Colby took out a set of keys and unlocked the door that read 'Private'. He pushed it open and stepped back. "Well, here you are. I'm sure you remember where everything is."

"Thanks very much. I owe you one," Yusuf sighed.

"Thank you," Clara added as an afterthought.

Colby smiled at them both and went back to the front of the shop.

"He's a nice guy," Clara murmured.

"Yeah. We went to university together." Yusuf walked them into the lab and shut the door. "Let's get to work."

They sat down at a table set in the middle of the private laboratory. There were cupboards with glass doors showing bottles of chemicals, drugs, sedatives; everything a Chemist needed. There were also two computers set against a wall and a collection of laboratory apparatus.

"So, this compound of yours," Clara began, shifting on the chair and clasping her hands together. "You combined it with a sedative to put the Dreamers into a deeper sleep?"

"Yes, but I allowed each person's sense of motion intact in order to initiate a kick," Yusuf explained, seated opposite her. "The problem was that the end result was so powerful, once you got killed in the Dream, you would automatically fall into Limbo."

Clara grimaced. "I guess that's what we need to work on this time. It would make the job a lot less stressful."

"True." Yusuf unzipped the backpack he had brought with him and took out a vial of a honey-coloured liquid. "This is the actual compound we used in the Dream." He took out another glass bottle. "And this is the sedative." He placed them in front of them both.

Clara picked up the bottle of clear sedative. "Perhaps we should work on this. After all, without the sedative, the compound works just fine. We can alter the sedative and make it less powerful."

"But less powerful means less stable Dream levels," Yusuf said, shrugging a little helplessly. "The whole reason we needed the sedative was because without it the Dream levels would collapse too easily. Disturbances become greatly magnified down under."

Clara brought a microscope over to the bench and smiled. "I'll see what I can do with this. Can you tell me what your compound is made up of?"

Yusuf told her, and Clara wrote down a short list. She stared at the components, trying to recall some of her Biochemistry course to see if she could diminish the effects of the sedative without causing unstable Dreams. It was fruitless; she needed to do research. "I'll need some time to do a bit of research, but I'll get something to you soon."

"It's fine, there's no rush. If it comes down to it, we can always use my original sedated compound." Yusuf looked at the drug sample in Clara's hands. "I didn't know you had a Chemist's background."

Clara smiled and used a pipette to add a drop of the compound to a microscope slide. She took out a bottle of iron chloride and added a couple of drops to it, to see if there were any phenol groups. "I studied biochemistry at Imperial College."

"Ah, how wonderful. How long have you been Extracting for?"

"Actually, I left the Dreams a long time ago. I haven't been Extracting for years, but Arthur called me about this job and I took it."

"Curiosity got the better of you, didn't it?" Yusuf sighed dramatically. "It always happens."

"I guess it does..." Clara watched as the drops of solutions on the slide slowly turned purple, a positive result for phenol groups; she recalled the properties of phenol compounds…

"Did you leave for family reasons?"

Clara's eyes snapped back to Yusuf's. "Yes," she confessed, after brief hesitation. "How did you know?"

Yusuf offered an easy smile. "In my experience, Dreamers don't leave the Dreams for themselves. They leave for family; perhaps for a worried parent, a frustrated partner, a sibling in need, or-"

"-or a motherless child," Clara finished, thinking of a greatly eccentric man, with his ocean-blue eyes and captivating words.

Yusuf nodded, and Clara sensed his underestimated wisdom. "Who was it for you?"

Again, it only took a second for Clara to let it go. "My parents," she said. When Yusuf didn't ask further, she sat back in her chair and folded her hands on top of one another. "Four years ago, my dad got hit in a car accident. He hit his head badly and he fell into a coma." Even after all this time, the words were cold and heavy on her tongue; maybe because she rarely spoke about the event. And she supposed she had never really accepted reality. "When he woke up, he was never the same again. His memory deteriorated, dementia set in…" A pause. "He doesn't believe I'm his daughter."

"I'm sorry."

Clara shook her head and continued, "He's at a private care home now. My mum was terrified. Stricken. She needed me by her side, for support. She called me and we talked, and not only was she grieving for my dad, she was also furious at me."

Yusuf frowned. "Why was that?"

She sighed. "Somehow, she knew about my Dream-walking, and she was sickened by it. She thought it was wrong, selfish, immoral...everything bad. She wanted me to graduate and get an honest job, but here I was, stealing other people's secrets for money."

"So she forced you out of our world?"

"Yes." Clara's fingers scraped over her collarbone. "What other choice did I have? She made me feel so ashamed of myself; she kept saying all her money invested in my education was sent down the drain because I was doing such illegal things. Besides, I wanted her comfort because of what happened to dad, and I wanted to be there for her. So I left."

"But I thought you're still involved in the Dream world? Don't you do private work for companies who need protection?"

Clara smiled cheekily and shrugged. "It had to be a part of my life. I made my mum see that. She knows the security work I do now isn't illegal. So she let it slide."

There was a peaceful moment afterwards, where Clara felt surprised that she had admitted so much - and so easily - to a man she barely knew. Maybe, somehow, she found his simple mannerism less threatening and invasive than the rest of the team's. Or maybe it was because he was like her: just another scientist. She felt a companionship between them that was plain and boring but dependable.

Unlike the feelings she had for Eames.

Her story was nowhere near all of the truth, and she knew Eames would not be satisfied with this explanation, but it was at least a real, solid part of the reason she had deserted him, and she hoped that would suffice for now. She would save the dirtier truth for later.

Arthur ran a hand over his chin, his skin cold to the touch. He was standing outside, leaning against the railing running alongside the rolling Thames. Few people glanced at him, the well-trimmed gentleman in his black trench coat and polished shoes; he fitted into London's dreary scenery perfectly.

He wasn't quite thinking; his mind was too hazy at the moment for any form of clear thinking. No, he was brooding. Almost sulking.

He couldn't pinpoint what was really on his mind. He could only say that he had a feeling that something was wrong. That something they were doing was wrong, or that they had been lied to in the most discreet fashion. The problem was, Arthur didn't know how.

Let it go, he hurled at himself. He couldn't afford to get distracted by this one stupid gut instinct.

The thing was, though, Arthur's gut instinct had a habit of being right.

Arthur would make sure. He would try and find out what was so wrong with this whole job. He would try and find the double-cross he sensed in the purpose of this project...

"Arthur! What're you doing out here?" came Clara's voice abruptly.

Arthur whipped around and saw Clara and Yusuf walking up to him, their arms folded and their shoulders hunched against the wind. Then he saw something strange. Odd. He tried to greet them normally. "Hey. Back so soon?"

Clara nodded. "It's gonna take another day for us to fix the sedative. But I think we're onto something."

"Good," replied Arthur distractedly. He gestured for them to go back to the warehouse. "It's cold out here. Get warmed up."

Yusuf nodded, then headed toward the heavy steel doors, but Clara seemed to have picked up on the distant look on Arthur's face. She stepped next to him and gazed out at the river. "You okay?"

"Of course."

"Then why are you outside?"

Arthur wrung his hands together; his fingers were always more slender than he would have liked. "Just thinking." He sighed, there was no use hiding it from her. "Something's off."

Clara's eyes flashed worriedly. "What do you mean?"

He could tell that she took his opinions seriously. He didn't want to stress her out with nothing but his own theories. He shrugged. "I don't know. But I think we need to be more cautious."

"Why?" Clara pressed, then more urgently: "Arthur?"

"I just have this feeling that something's not right, and we need to be careful." Arthur fixed his eyes on hers. "You were being followed."

Clara stared back, uncomprehending.

"There was a man following you and Yusuf. He turned away the moment I saw him," said Arthur.

"Are you sure?"

"I know a stalker when I see one."

Clara froze. Then she glanced behind her, as if trying to find the stranger. "Yusuf thought we were being followed," she said quietly. "He said he thought he saw someone tailing us through the streets toward the Tube. I said he was probably just paranoid or something, so he dropped it."

Arthur's stomach twisted in unpleasant surprise. "You're being followed," said Arthur. "Remember what Ariadne said? She said she saw someone as well." He turned to her. "You don't know how to use a gun, do you?"

Clara shook her head. Arthur wasn't surprised. "You need a bodyguard," he concluded.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"No, this is necessary. I'm serious. I don't want one of us kidnapped or hurt and having to go through all that hassle."

Clara crossed her arms over her chest. She was shivering, and she didn't look pleased. "Well, I'm guessing you don't have the number of a security agency, so forget it. I can look after myself."

"Better safe than sorry." Arthur straightened his tie. "I'll book a room next to yours. Where're you staying?"

Clara furrowed her brow. "I don't need a babysitter."

Arthur gave her a challenging look. "Would you rather Eames do it?"

And Arthur was alarmed to see that this actually brought a chuckle to Clara's lips. She was obviously also preoccupied with something else and didn't seem to be taking what he was proposing to heart. "Fine," she said at last, after stifling a burst of giggles. "Fine. You can be my bodyguard. Just don't tell Eames."

Arthur turned back to the river as Clara walked back to the warehouse.