The Rescuer (Alternate Title: The Rescuer and Her Family)

5 (Five; Cinq; Cinco)

Ariadne noticed it. Noticed how they were strange around each other. When walking down halls, they made sure not to graze each other, and Veda did not hug Eames in the airport, but she was a very touchy person. Ariadne didn't get it, and it made her curious. When going to bed the night that she met Veda, she decided that they were fond of each other. She didn't know how fond at that moment, so she passed it off as general awkwardness. And then that didn't make sense either, since Eames was never awkward around anyone. Even when Veda was in the room, Eames wasn't acting particularly strange.

But Ariadne's observations and assumptions were correct, even if she did not understand them. There were rules. Rules that Veda and Eames never openly said, yet rules they followed.

The first rule was that they were most definitely allowed to see other people. Veda did this sparingly- there weren't many men or women she'd like to get involved with. She didn't have the time. Eames, on the other hand, had various women and men for various cities. However, Veda thought that was a consequence of forging that had engrained itself into Eames.

The second rule was that they never called each other unless it was about a job. No casual dates, no love nest in Monaco. Only during or immediately after a job did anything take place. And when it did, it lasted until either one stated they needed to leave.

The third rule was no touching. The feel of skin on skin was too electric. This rule had become a game- who could go the longest during a job until they gave in. Usually, it was an accident, like brushing against each other in the elevator or passing a bottle of water and their hands touched. But once that happened, the switch was flicked, and they broke down.

The fourth rule was the easiest- not to discuss with each other what they were doing. Talking would only complicate matters, and they said all they had to when their bodies were wrapped together. But everything else was fair game.

The morning after she arrived in L.A. to rescue Cobb, she was awake early. The pills Yusuf gave her had only given her three hours, not five. She felt refreshed, however. She maneuvered the kitchen, finishing preparing breakfast when Arthur, Ariadne, and Eames rolled in at the same time.

"Morning!" She said brightly.

"I'm assuming you slept?" Arthur's eyebrows were raised. She'd looked weary the day before, and he had not been able if that was the flight or her.

"Yep. Three hours."

"Good." Eames and Arthur had the same expression, Ariadne noticed, because their eyes met. It was concern.

"Breakfast?" wondered Ariadne.

"Mhm. I made waffles!" She did a small dance of accomplishment. "Have some."

"Don't mind if I do." The Architect's eyes glittered, reaching for a plate. The others did the same.

"There's also fruit and juice." Breakfast was nice, and Veda was happy to have someone to cook for. She was arranging the soiled plates and cups in the dishwasher when Eames handed her his plate.

"Thanks for breakfast, love. Delectable as always."

"You're welcome."

"Oh, you've got a stray thread on your shirt."

"Hm?" Veda looked- nothing was there.

"I'll get it." Eames removed his hand from his pocket and reached for her. His index finger caught under the sleeve of her t-shirt; his thumb smoothed over the fabric, tugging it slightly. His other fingers ghosted over her skin. Veda's heartbeat faltered a bit, and her stomach churned. Her groin grew hot as blood rushed down, as if to answer his subtle request to let him take the shirt off. He removed the piece of nonexistent thread and cleared his throat. "It's gone now."

"Thanks," she breathed, skin still heated from where he'd touched her. Her cheeks were hot. Eames had purposely broken rule three. And just like that, their buttons were pressed. Veda hadn't had him in almost four months, and she was fast becoming dizzy with desire. She need him. Badly. Very very badly.

Being with him never got old. Ever. So she milked it for all it was worth until he became too familiar with her, and she used a job as an excuse to leave. And when they parted, she'd immerse herself in work to stave off the anger, cursing her thoughts of him. He didn't really mind- he didn't have the right to mind, did he? But when she was with Eames, she filled her days and nights and every bit of herself with him.

Eames swallowed, mentally cursing at himself for not resisting. But she just looked so happy, more dazzling than normal. Something below his stomach lurched, telling him that he wanted her. For a split second, he contemplated taking her right then, but of course, Ariadne and Arthur were present. He backed away slowly and turned on his heel.

Being with her never grew stale. Always fresh and new. So he gave her his all until he was sure she'd gotten tired of him. Then he'd leave, and she never minded. But when he was away from her, his initial thought was to worry about her, maybe find out from the grapevine how she was. But he'd then grow angry about the whole situation, and he'd curse and banish her from his mind and his dreams, focusing on all the other delectable people placing themselves in his view.

10 (Ten; Dix; Diez)

By nature, Ariadne was downright curious. She couldn't help it. When she was small, she'd pretend to be asleep while the adults' talk swirled around her, and she took it all in, finding their dynamics more interesting than her Fischer-Price toys. Later on, she'd find out that curiosity for people's thoughts made a good architect- building for someone required prying into the mind of the client, knowing them and putting that into a tangible place. Ariadne needed to truly know people.

Not counting the instance that Veda helped Cobb, this was the first time Ariadne had done a job with Veda. She didn't know her at all. So when she saw Veda hooked up to the PASIV without anyone else dreaming with her, Ariadne took the liberty of grasping a line. This was her chance to know.

The first thing Ariadne noticed was the lack of people. She realized this was probably due to the second thing she observed- that she was hovering in the clouds.

"Now I know I did not dream you up," Veda's voice floated over to her. "Hold on." A dramatic scene change rushed through Ariadne's body; her head whirled with blood, her ears popping. The earth settled beneath her, bringing a boardwalk to her feet, a carnival in the distance. Still, no projections were around.

"Hi." Ariadne turned to see Veda in a grey cotton dress; the air billowed through its fibers, giving Veda a very surreal look. She didn't have her sunglasses, and Ariadne decided she shouldn't need to hide tremors in a dream. There shouldn't be any twitches.

"Hi, um…" Ariadne did not know what to say- she wondered if Cobb or Arthur could change scenery so quickly, so fully. She could hear the shores of whatever sea it was; she could hear the disembodied laughter of people having fun, the faint music of the festivities in the carnival. "Where is this?"

Veda shrugged. "I dunno. I like boardwalks. That sea over there-" Veda pointed. "On the other side of that could be the shores of limbo. I don't know. But this is great, isn't it?" She breathed in the salty air. "I just love being outside, wherever it is."

"It's sweet, yes," Ariadne smiled. The sun dipped low into the horizon and climbed back up, fluctuating between sunrise and sunset.

"Can't decide which I like better," Veda said. "C'mon, Ari." She motioned, beckoning her along. Ariadne walked by her side, eyes darting around.

"Where're all the projections?"

"Do you want there to be projections?" She briefly glanced at the intruder in her dream.

"I, um-"

"If you try to change anything, I fear you'll have a very slow, painful death. My mind likes to rely on itself and only itself." Veda sighed. "I don't even like dealing with my projections. They know it, so they're… invisible, I guess."

"Oh. Well, in that case, this is great."

"Good." Their footsteps grew louder while the noises in the background died down; Ariadne felt watched, felt followed. She didn't draw attention to it. "What brings you here, dear?"

"I've never seen your head before- I mean, this is-" Ariadne racked her brain for the words. "A lot. Different than what I expected, but then I didn't know what I'd find to begin with."

"Dom's right, you're nosy," laughed Veda. Ariadne blushed. "No, no, it's not a bad thing. Not right now, anyway. You're scared of my head, aren't you? It's cool, I am too."

"It's beautiful, but it's like, it's like a calm. A calm before the storm. Or hiding a storm."

"Story of my life." They kept on their path to the carnival. Halfway there. "So I suppose you're here to fix me, like you did with Dom. Or at least try."

"Um." Ariadne's ears heated, wondering why she'd stepped in here in the first place. It was frightening, and Veda was making this (whatever this was) hard.

"Go ahead, dear, go ahead." Veda leapt on her toes, dancing on the wooden planks. "I already know what you're going to ask."

Ariadne exhaled heavily, "What's with you and Eames?"

"See how I'm dancing right now?" Veda executed a perfect pirouette. "I can't do this in real life. Since I was little, I always wanted to be a dancer- it didn't matter what kind. Ballet, contemporary, hip-hop, latin… But my parents could never afford dance classes, and it wasn't like we stayed in one place long enough for me to take lessons anyway. And by the time I got to college and could try, one of the top ballerinas in all of Paris told me that I was all wrong for professional dancing. I guess my body was too curved on top of being too old to get good and be professional. She crushed my dreams. They were dumb dreams, but still, no one deserves crushed dreams. Anyway. Eames makes me feel like I never gave up those dreams, that I'm perfect the way I am, and that I'm amazing at whatever I try. I'm not, but it's a great thing. I don't know why he makes me feel that way."

"He loves you," said Ariadne.

Veda gave her a fond, faint smile. "Hm."

"Really, he does. You're wonderful, Veda, of course he-"

"I'm actually really awful. I'm a recluse who's socially awkward- at least, I think I am. Conversely, I've got no concept of personal space, I stare at people, I don't own anything that doesn't fit in my suitcase, I hate wearing shoes, I put my feet up on everything, I eat with my hands, I refuse help, I'm obsessive, I don't sleep, my body twitches out of my control, I eat three times what a normal person does, and sometimes I say stuff to make people uncomfortable." Veda paused. "Oh, and if I can't do something, I pretend that I can."

"That's not too bad- and he loves you anyway." Ariadne put her hands on her hips. "What do you two talk about?"

"I don't know. Everything and nothing, I guess. Y'know, now that you say it, I can't recall any specific conversations. But I know we talk about things. Countries, jobs we've worked, people. Food, perfume. Everything. And yet I don't even know his birthday."

"What?" Ariadne thought this was the strangest relationship ever. She shook her head, eyes traveling up to the now-moonlit sky, becoming even more confused. She gestured with her hands, "Veda, there's no reason why you two can't be together. I mean, I don't get it. Arthur doesn't either. When you're not around, Eames pretends you don't exist and sleeps with every other woman and man on the planet. Doesn't that make you mad?"

Veda, flustered, furrowed her brow; the projections appeared, encircling them and alarming Ariadne.

"Not mad," whispered Veda as her projections wrenched her from Ariadne's side. Clouds advanced upon the beach, and lightning sizzled through the sky. A downpour rained upon them, and wind carried Ariadne's scream to the sea. Veda closed her eyes when the rioting projections wrapped their hands around Ariadne's arms and legs. She did not see the giant axe of one of the projections whose eyes were vicious and unforgiving hoisted up into the air; she did not see Ariadne's head roll on the boardwalk. She felt the blood spatter, though, all over her dress and her face. Veda slowly opened her eyes- the sky cleared, leaving a strange fog in the air. Her projections, nameless people that Veda may or may not have seen before, stared at her with their wide, wide open orbs.

She sighed, feeling naked and wondering if projections really were reflections of one's self, or if they were really just acting out primal feelings to protect her. The projections looked worriedly at each other, then at the place where Ariadne's body once was. A particularly bold one pulled a newly-formed gun from his pocket, stepped forward, and shot Veda between the eyes.

Veda woke to find Ariadne trembling in the lawn chair next to her with Arthur holding her arm, asking her what was wrong. Ariadne shook her head, only stared knowingly at Veda.

"I'm sorry- I felt threatened- I'm sorry, Ariadne." Veda's eyes were full of concern; if one died in a particularly different way to the norm in a dream, the body could go through shock. "They know- I know you weren't hurting me. You were only trying to help. Ari?"

"Your- subconscious- is worse than Cobb's," gasped Ariadne.

"Breathe," coaxed Arthur. She took deep, labored breaths. Ariadne scowled at Veda.

"I'm sorry," Veda said again. "That's why I don't let anyone use me as a dreamer. I warned you. I don't even like my subconscious. In my real dreams, the ones where I don't use a PASIV, it's like that all the time. My subconscious is just responding to constantly being meshed with Marks who don't give a damn about my brain. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Ariadne swallowed. "What are you, then?"

"What?"

"You said you're not mad. What are you, then?"

Veda forced her teeth to show; her smile crept to her eyes, pulling down sad lines. "I'm completely miserable." The two women locked eyes, and both of them began to laugh.

Arthur shook his head, standing up. "Women."

6 (Six; Six; Seis)

"Are you following me?" asked Eames of Ariadne. She was walking several paces behind him down the sidewalk.

"Where're you going?" Ariadne countered, quickening her pace now that he'd noticed her.

"To get food."

"That's where I'm going." Eames tried not to think of her as annoying, and he let a smile form on his mouth. He stopped abruptly, a bistro catching his eye.

"This place looks good." He stepped inside. "I need a sandwich." They sat down inside and went through the motions of ordering food. Upon eating, they found that the food was delicious.

"Wow, good choice," said Ariadne amidst a mouthful of hummus.

"Why aren't you back at the hotel helping Veda? I thought you'd want to know what's going on with Cobb's rescue."

"I've got more pressing matters," she stated simply.

"And these matters concern me?"

"Yes."

"Ariadne, how old are you?"

"Twenty-three. Why?"

"Hm." Eames had a faraway look in his eye. "I was twenty-three when I was introduced to dreamscape too."

"Oh."

"That was ten years ago."

"Oh." Ariadne scrunched up her face. "You're thirty-three?"

"Surprised?"

"Well, I guess not, you just act-"

"Ageless, yes, I know."

"I was going to say 'immature,' but we can go with that one." Eames rolled his eyes at her.

"Darling, what do you want?"

"Why're you worried about Veda?"

"What?" Eames, taken aback, lurched into defensive mode. "I'm not-"

"Yeah, you're worried. Arthur's worried, but that's just because he knows Veda like he knows Cobb. Why're you worried?"

"I don't know." Eames sighed. "She's not- she can't sleep. Veda can't sleep the way you and I do."

"Why not?"

"Who knows exactly? She experiences a lot of symptoms of sleep deprivation. Hand tremors, microsleeping, eye tremors-"

"The sunglasses." Eames nodded.

"Veda's odd in the fact that she's probably had more time dreaming than me, Yusuf, Arthur, and Cobb combined. She goes into different levels and stays there for what would be weeks or months, and that adds up. I've worked with her a few times, seen her rescue a bit too. She stays under a good few hours heavily sedated with them, finding them inside their heads. You saw with Fischer, ten hours was a week, they said. She goes different levels, too, and when one is stuck in their own dream, the structure is different. There is no proper time. So Limbo is nothing to her." This was all new to Ariadne, yet it made complete sense. A Rescuer like Veda would not be able to create and rescue simultaneously. Losing her grip on reality would be a constant hazard for Veda, and she could quite possibly be endlessly lost. She was probably afraid to sleep, deduced Ariadne. But Eames was dodging the question.

"No, I mean, why do you care?"

"Care?"

"About Veda. You care."

"Ariadne."

"I'm trying to help." She paused. "If you'd let me."

Eames shrugged, exhaling heavily. He glanced at Ariadne before beginning the story, not knowing why he was explaining. "Well, in secondary school, there was this kid I picked on all the time. Didn't know him. He was a flat out geek, I swear. Great at math, science, always had a calculator. Walked like an awkward duck without his bloody mum."

"Okay, I get it."

"One day there was a school music show. I wasn't in it-" Eames rolled his eyes- "but he was. Orchestra director said that he had a special treat for us. Geek kid got up on stage wearing a three-piece, holding a violin. He quietly and nervously said he had a piece he wrote himself. We were only like, what- thirteen? And then, as he lined himself up to play, he changed. The kid didn't even have a sheet of music, and I was so confused. And then his back straightened, he closed his eyes and began to play. I swear to God, as he played, Ariadne, his music reached into my soul. And I thought, bloody hell, he's beautiful. His body and his face, his music. All of that other shit melted away, and it was like that was what he was born to do. This air of sensuality and beauty and ethereality just blew my mind. He was so powerful in that moment." Eames faltered in the story, remembering the boy. "After that, I couldn't mock him. I just couldn't. It was like I'd gone inside his mind, you know, like a dream, and seen his heart. I guess he was my first real crush- I don't know. Anyway. Veda's like that to me. All the time, she does that. Like she's constantly in that state of innate power over whatever it is, and-" He stopped abruptly, face reddening.

"You should tell her," decided Ariadne.
"Ha, no."

"Sounds like you're in love with her, is what it sounds like. You should tell people when you love them."

"Is that what you've done with Arthur?"

"Stop deflecting!" Ariadne huffed, splashes of red inking all over her cheeks. "This is about you! Not me." She folded her arms. "I think she loves you back."

"I don't know about that. And even if she did, I can't do anything about it."

"Why not?"

"Because. We're in two very different worlds, Ariadne. I'm an uneducated thief who lies and cheats and gambles and drinks my way into every situation and into people's beds. I'm a Forger for Christ's sake. I've got people scalping the globe looking to kill me. And look at her- she's never had a drink in her life, she's frequently asked for by name by the United Nations. We're always in two different parts of the world."

"I think you're more alike than you think, Eames."

"Oh, enlighten me, please, you who have known me for like three weeks. And Veda for two days."

"Well, you're extremely intelligent. It takes a lot of ingenuity to forge flawless copies of people, to step into their skin." Eames grinned smugly. "You know how to get what you want, using intellect to understand complexities of the human mind. And she's not such a goodie-goodie as you've put her to be- Veda knows how to deceive and manipulate people. She wears leather racing jackets, and she ignores people and lies…"

"She does have several tattoos," Eames smiled fondly, thinking of her hip, her shoulders, her finger. He knew her body well.

"There you go! And I'm sure people want to kill her too."

"Ariadne, darling, you are too sweet. I see why Arthur thinks you're adorable."

"Ohshutup." She tried to give him a deadpan look, cutting her eyes, but that blush gave her away. Eames showed her a toothy smile, and she shook her head.

2 (Two; Deux; Dos)

Veda didn't know how she'd be if she drank- if the alcohol would do anything to her dreaming. So, she hadn't had a drop of alcohol in her life, to be honest. The only liquor she'd ever had was the remnants from Eames' tongue. And did it taste good.

She pushed him against the hotel room door, a hand on his belt and the other on his neck. Her tongue dipped into his mouth, tasting that bittersweet heaven associated with him. Veda pressed herself into Eames' body, purposely catching between his thighs. Her lips moved down to his jaw as a groan escaped from Eames' throat. His head fell back onto the door.

"You're such a bloody vixen." He was breathless, groping at her body.

"Only with you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, love." Eames swallowed. "But just let me get the room key." Veda sighed with disappointment and impatience. She looked down the hall, wondering if anyone had seen them. But then she didn't care. Eames pushed the heavy door open, and they stumbled inside.

"I waited all damn day for this," whined Veda, fumbling through the buttons on his shirt.

"Nice to know you missed me in Paris." He violently yanked down her jeans. They fell to the floor. "I-"

"Shut up." She paused, looking him in the eyes. They were fraught with lust. "Shut up and fuck me." Eames needed no further persuading; he hoisted her up, and her legs went right around his midsection.

Ten seconds and both of their sets of clothing were off and thrown somewhere in the room. Three more seconds and Veda was supine on the bed, Eames' lips murmuring sexed words between kissing and licking the skin of her neck. Veda's hands traveled down his back, fingernails grazing his spine. He shivered and couldn't take it anymore, ready to ravish her and make her take every bit of him.

...

Eames woke to a soft humming sound. He stretched out his arms and found himself alone in the bed. He forced himself to look at the clock- three in the morning. Eames slowly picked himself from the bed, following the sound into the bathroom.

"Oh, hi, did I wake you?" Veda was relaxing in the bathtub, immersed in deep water with millions of scented bubbles shielding any view Eames had of her body.

"Yes."

"Sorry. I just- it's a Jacuzzi." She shrugged, closing her eyes and resting her head on the side of the tub. "I've never stayed in a hotel with such a big Jacuzzi tub."

"If you fall asleep, you'll drown, love," Eames said amusedly.

"You're naked, Eames, get in the tub." It did look relaxing. He stepped inside and situated himself opposite her.

"Dammit. This- aah." One of the jets was directly on his lumbar, tickling and massaging him right where that ache persisted from sitting at a bar stool all day in the workspace.

"It's the best thing ever," she agreed lazily, shifting to sit up. "I even ordered room service." She reached for a plate from the tiled shelf near her head.

"At three in the morning?"

"I was hungry and I thought it'd be fun. Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging. Pass the strawberries." She gave him the plate. "Is there champagne?"

"I don't drink, and you don't need any more than you already had earlier."

"I can hold my liquor."

"This is Germany- everyone holds their liquor. Doesn't mean they don't get hangovers." Veda bit into a strawberry. Eames chuckled to himself.

"What?" She chewed slowly.

"You- I forgot how you eat. It's funny." She lifted her foot and splashed water in his face. Some bubbles stuck to his nose and chin.

"Don't laugh at me!"

"No, it's not bad." Eames still smiled, wiping the soapy residue from his face. "I just, I always notice people's habits. Don't know why I forgot yours. It's remarkably sexy, love, don't stop." Eames took another strawberry for himself. Veda stopped mid-bite, raising her eyebrows and evaluating herself. Both her thumb and her index finger were in her mouth as she bit the remainder of her fruit. She licked her fingers.

"Hm." She pulled herself forward through the water, opening her mouth for Eames to feed the berry to her. He obliged, eyebrow raised, as Veda took it between her lips, letting his fingers enter as well. Some of the juice ran down his finger, and Veda sucked it off, keeping eye contact with Eames.

"Oh bloody hell," moaned Eames, grabbing her down. She yelped, water splashing everywhere. Cradling her in his arms, he wiped the water from her face. "You're absolutely gorgeous."

"You're dashing." Their lips meshed together, warm and smooth. A whimper of happiness fell from Veda's mouth into Eames'. This time, the lovemaking was slow and deep.