Contrary to widespread rumors, they did not meet in the military. They worked in the same program and they might have crossed paths once or twice but neither of them ever knew the other until much later. Eames even claimed that he remembered seeing Arthur at one point or another but Arthur was fairly sure that the forger was just messing with him. Their first meeting happened by pure chance one night when they were both fresh out of the dreamsharing project. Arthur was drinking in a dead end bar in the middle of New York on a freezing cold night in January. The project had ended three months ago and as much as Arthur tried to put logic behind it that did not stop this itch underneath his skin. The dreaming was like a drug, it had gotten into his system and would not let go, and now he was going through withdrawal. The worst part was that there was no one that he could talk to about it. There were no self help groups for people who were addicted to doing impossible things in dreams.
The people in the bar with him were also addicts and Arthur spent the majority of the evening trying to read each of them, to figure out what their addictions were. He wondered how many of them were in denial, how many of them had just fallen off the bandwagon and how many of them were just tired of trying. Arthur wondered which group he fell into and if there was anything he could do to change it. Giving up the thought, he nursed a beer and watched a ten year old English Premiere League match. He wondered idly who would request that channel since no one in the states seemed to care about soccer.
"Cheers, mate," a voice said and Arthur looked up to see a lean man drinking Guinness from the tap and watching the television with interest. His short hair was sandy blond and he seemed to be watching the game like it was the only thing in the room. He was on the other side of the half circle bar and he looked relaxed. There was something about the look in his eyes that made Arthur watch him with interest. It was not until the man turned and their eyes met that Arthur even realized he was staring. He did not get bashful or look away, he locked eyes with the stranger until the man got up and walked over so they were sitting elbow to elbow. "Any reason you're staring at me?" the man asked.
"Yes and no," Arthur replied honestly as he took another drink of his beer. He enjoyed this place in the bar because his back was to a wall and he had a clear view of the exit. It was not until he was more than halfway through his beer that he realized that the other man was watching the exit with the same intensity that he was. "You were in the military," Arthur said as he considered this stranger who turned and looked at him.
"You were too. No other reason someone would choose this spot at the bar unless they wanted their back to a wall and eyes on the exit," the man said and he held out a hand. "I'm Eames."
"Arthur," he said taking Eames' hand. They fell into easy conversation as they bought beers for one another. Arthur found out that Eames had been in the service at around the same time he had been and had been let go around the same time. When this information came out they both stared at one another. "Odds of that happening are pretty slim."
"The universe is not so big, Arthur, and sometimes things just turn out that way," Eames replied and he flagged a bartender down. The more they drank the warmer the room seemed to get and before long both of them had their sleeves rolled up. Arthur was in the middle of a story from boot camp when Eames snatched his wrist and turned it over. He ran his fingers over the track marks on his wrist from the PASIV device. "I know what these are."
"I got into some nasty stuff when I was younger; they're just scars," Arthur lied effortlessly but Eames stared at him with intense eyes. Eames moved his arm so that their wrists were side by side. Arthur's eyes nearly bugged out when he saw identical marks on Eames' arm, marks that indicated exactly what Eames had done while he was in the service. If he was wrong then he would be breeching his non-disclosure agreement and might get himself killed but if he was right there would finally be a person that understood what he was going through. He ran a million statements through his head trying to find one that would get the point across if Eames really had been in the program. "Tell me, Mr. Eames, do you still dream?" Arthur asked and the way the other man's eyes lit up was all the proof he needed.
"As a matter of fact, I don't," Eames replied. "Let's go somewhere else." The 'because this isn't a safe place to discuss this' was implied but Arthur nodded. Eames released his hand and they both paid for their tabs. Arthur wrapped himself in his coat tightly as he walked with Eames down the cold New York streets. Eames had a loft within walking distance and as Arthur followed him upstairs he wondered if this was a trap and he was going to get himself killed. He sized up Eames and decided he could take the Brit if need be. The heat from the apartment seemed to melt the ice from his bones and Arthur could feel the chill start to leave. Eames hung up their coats and vanished into the kitchen only to return with two glasses of brandy. "Here, because I know you're worried even if you won't say so," Eames said and he took a sip of both; Arthur grinned.
"Every instinct I have said coming up here was a bad idea," he said taking the glass from Eames.
"Yeah, well, all of mine said that bringing you here was a bad idea," he said sounding a little sheepish. They lounged on the couch and sipped the brandy as they waited to warm up from the cold outside. "Did you ever go to Europe?"
"Yeah, did you come to the states?" Arthur asked.
"Sure did. We must have just missed each other," Eames said tilting his head to the side.
"Must have; I have a feeling I would remember you," Arthur said without hesitation. He did not see a point in beating around the bush or being subtle and judging by the way Eames' eyebrows shot up he had not expected that.
"Cheers to that," he said and they clinked glasses. The hours dragged on as they talked about the dreams, about first reactions, the first time they had gotten hurt or killed, the first time they had gotten ill, the first time they had managed to build a dream and how it all fell apart in the end.
"I guess it was all too expensive," Arthur said and just barely noticed that the bottle of brandy was almost empty. "Training soldiers to kill easily isn't something that they really want to broadcast anyway."
"It always comes down to funds though," Eames said as he finished the last of his brandy. "I wonder what else you could do down there though. I mean, we had only just learned that we could control the structure of the dream. I imagine there were all sorts of things that we never touched on." Arthur hummed in agreement and finished the last of his drink.
"I should probably head out," he said and Eames rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, you're not walking through New York at 2A.M after all of that booze. I don't care if you were special forces, I'm calling a bloody cab," Eames said and he picked up the phone to do so. Arthur laughed and rested his head against the back of the couch. He felt lighter than he had in three months and he knew it was not because of the liquor. Eames hung up the phone and they walked down to the entrance of the building to watch for the cab. "You going to hang around the city for a while?"
"Thinking about it," Arthur replied as he leaned against the door; the window fogged just a little whenever he took a breath.
"Well, give me a ring if you want to get drinks again sometime. You can't exactly talk to anyone about what we had to do," Eames said offering a piece of paper with a number on it. Arthur took it without hesitation and smiled.
"I'd like that," he replied honestly when the cab pulled up. Arthur nodded to Eames and walked outside to his cab. When they pulled away he risked a glance back at the door and saw that Eames was watching him as well.
"It's called 'extraction,'" Eames said one night over a year later over a box of Chinese food. Arthur creased his eyebrows and stared at the man on the couch next to him. Somehow, over the last year, Arthur had found a friend in Eames that he had never had in anyone else before. The two of them spent most of their days together and drank enough to fund a small island nation. The topic rarely drifted from the dreams for very long but when it did they were usually just sorting out basics.
"My first name is Daniel," Eames had said after their third beer and a terrible movie a few months earlier. Arthur arched an eyebrow.
"I already knew that," Arthur had replied. "I was intelligence before I was in the program so knowing things about people is natural. I got curious so I looked you up." Eames had stared at him before bursting out laughing.
"And what did you find?" he had asked with a grin.
"That you're a thief for one," Arthur had replied and he gave Eames a little credit for not reacting at all. "You forged papers to get to America because like me, you're not supposed to exist anymore."
"It's kind of freeing, don't you think? And I have to say I'm impressed; you must have gotten through some decent security to get information on a dead man." They did not talk about anything else that night but by the time the liquor was gone Arthur had his normal spot on the couch. Now they were eating Chinese food over a year later and not really watching re-runs of some British show that Eames claimed was amazing.
"It's the act of going into a person's mind and taking their secrets. What of it?" Arthur asked and he had to stifle a laugh when Eames glared at him.
"Right, so, rumor is that a few of the PASIV devices got out onto the black market and people have started doing extractions for frankly embarrassing amounts of money. The people doing these things are mediocre at best, but you and I? We're trained, we know what to do, and I bet we could take all of those people by surprise," Eames said and he sounded excited.
"Illegal dream work? Sounds tempting," Arthur said as he set his food on the table. "What marketable skills do we have that could possibly make these people want to hire us?"
"You're kidding, right?" Eames asked but when Arthur did not reply the Brit rolled his eyes. "You, for one, could gather all of the information. You know as well as I do that going into someone's mind and not knowing what you're getting yourself into leads to less than pleasant experiences." Arthur clenched his jaw tightly and tried not to think about the projections that had torn him apart slowly when they went into the mind of a man suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. "You know how to dissect things and look at them from every possible angle."
"And what would you do?" Arthur asked but he was not surprised when Eames gave him that cheeky grin that he always did when he had the upper hand. "Eames, what do you know that I don't?"
"We'll go to a guy downtown who has a machine that he lets people use to live out whatever fantasies they want. I'll show you because telling you won't quite cover it," Eames said and Arthur rolled his eyes.
"Fine," he said and they went back to their Chinese food and the terrible television show though the smirk Eames had on his face did not go away.
Arthur slept on the couch again and they stopped by his apartment so he could shower and change. When he emerged drying his hair Eames was looking around as if he was fascinated by everything that was in the room. Despite the fact that Eames had been here hundreds of times since they had met, the man still walked around and seemed to take in every detail as if he was seeing it for the first time. Arthur considered the other man for a moment; being legally dead meant that he really had no one to fall back on but now he had Eames. The Brit understood the itch to dream again, the resentment that he could not even dream naturally anymore and how bored they both were with civilian life. Arthur wanted to call Eames his 'best friend' but he was really his only friend at the moment. Neither of them seemed eager to go out and join the real world anytime soon. It was early May now and while the city was warmer, it was in the middle of a cold front. Eames still wore a warm black sweater over a pair of faded jeans. There was a coat from a nearby thrift store draped over the couch.
"You're staring again, Arthur," Eames said and Arthur blinked back into his own head.
"Sorry, just dozed off there for a second," he replied and Eames smirked.
"That's what you get for sleeping on the couch. You need to stop drinking so much that you can't get yourself home," the Brit said.
"You have a spot on my couch too, asshole, so don't judge. Who was the one who went through a bottle of gin in one night?" Arthur said as he pulled his own jacket over his layers. The coat he had was not very warm so he layered up with a long sleeved shirt with a t-shirt underneath. He always found it ironic that his government had threatened his life to stay quiet and then kicked him out with only enough money to last a year. "Shall we?"
"We shall," Eames said and they walked down to the street below. They talked about normal things as they walked. Arthur had recently found out that Eames had a degree in psychology that had earned him a lot of teasing in the services, and Arthur did his best to keep making fun of him for it. "I'm telling you, it comes in handy. When was the last time you used that fancy computer engineering degree of yours?"
"The last time I hacked into a database to find out the degree of a person that doesn't exist anymore," Arthur replied smugly.
"You stay cheeky, my friend, I'm not so far behind," Eames said with a grin. "And we're going into my dream."
"When did we decide that?" Arthur asked with an arched eyebrow.
"I'm the one who wants to show you something. It's easier if I'm the one building the dream," Eames said and their eyes met. "Trust me."
"All right," he said. They walked into a shady looking area but Arthur was not worried. He saw all sorts of people around who probably wanted to mug him but the two of them were not to be tested. After a night at a pub only a month after they met four men had tried to mug them. The fight had been short because it took the two of them almost no time to take out the men. They knew each other better now and there was no reason that they could not work better as a team now. Eames knocked on a door and a man opened it, sizing him up.
"What do you want?" The man was wearing a dirty shirt and there were track marks on his arms that Arthur guessed had not come from drugs.
"Came for a dream," Eames replied easily and the man stared at the two of them as if deciding if they could be trusted. The door opened a little wider and they both walked into a small basement apartment. There were two other people, a woman and a younger man, looking over the PASIV device and Arthur winced as soon as he saw the state of the machine. It was clear to him that they had no idea how to properly take care of the equipment but decided that pushing the issue was not wise. If they wanted to break into the extraction field they needed a PASIV device to use despite that it was not in the best shape. "Fifty bucks per five minutes."
"I have a better idea," Eames said as Arthur dug into his wallet. His eyes had that mischievous glow that the other man tended to get when he decided that drinking an entire bottle of whiskey in a night sounded like a good idea. "You let us go under for free and my associate here will fix your machine as payment." Arthur had to give Eames credit when credit was due; it was a lot easier than dipping into his food fund for the week.
"Can you really fix it?" the woman asked.
"Yes," Arthur said without hesitation. The three people in the room exchanged looks and shrugged. "If I can't fix it we'll pay you for the five minutes. You have nothing to lose."
"Hook 'em up," the older man said and guided the two of them to two chairs near the PASIV device. The smell of the Somnicin was intoxicating as they both sat down. Arthur had to give these people some credit because they took needles out of a sealed sterile bag but that still did not ease the misgivings he felt. He had been put under with various different compounds of the chemical but there was no telling what kind of compound was going around the black market.
"We're both vulnerable if we're both under at the same time," Arthur muttered in French because it was something that they both understood. "Are you sure you need me to come down with you?"
"Very sure. I've looked into these people and everything I've found through the underground says they are as legit as an underground den can be. Worry not, my friend," Eames said with a smirk but he used the feminine grammar for 'friend' and Arthur narrowed his eyes.
"Are you two done romancing each other?" the woman asked with a raised eyebrow. Arthur stared at her.
"Five minutes," he said and Arthur watched them set the timer.
"Ready?" she asked a hand hovering over the button. Arthur exchanged a glance with Eames and they both nodded. She pushed the button and Arthur closed his eyes as the chemical surged through his body and the world faded away.
Arthur blinked and realized that he was standing in the middle of a high class bar in a suit he probably had not owned since well before the army. Eames' projections were all over, laughing and dancing, exchanging fine drinks, but Arthur did not see Eames himself anywhere. He was not worried though because while he had not outright said so he did trust Eames. They had a connection, an understanding that he had never had with anyone else. It was comforting and it made him smile on a regular basis. He had someone in his life that he could lean on and he had never had that before; it was a nice change of pace.
"Sir, can I get you a drink?" the bartender asked and Arthur looked at him.
"Tanqueray and tonic with ice," Arthur replied easily because he really was a gin man when it came down to it.
"Very well, sir." His drink was ready in moments. Arthur took a sip and looked out into the crowd; Eames' projections looked very relaxed but there was no telling what could set them off. So he decided to wait and see what the other man had planned. Forty-five minutes later a woman in a red dress slid onto the stool beside him.
"I don't think I've seen you here before," she said leaning into him. Her hair was blond, her eyes a bright blue and her lips were as red as her dress. Arthur did not want to anger the projections so he decided to humor her.
"I haven't been here before," he replied easily.
"Interesting, can I buy you a drink?" she asked leaning even closer so now they were flush against each other.
"Isn't that my line?" Arthur asked flashing her his best smile. The woman threw her head back and laughed.
"Aren't you a darling," she said tracing the line of his jaw with her finger. He had never dealt with projections that were this forward and Arthur was not sure how to react. Sudden movements could get him mauled to death by this well dressed crowd but allowing this to continue could make things very awkward. The projection did not give him time to think before she captured his lips in a kiss. Her lips were unbelievably soft beneath his but Arthur could not make himself react because this was a projection. She pulled away and he studied her because something was different. Her eyes were different, her mouth was different, and both were all too familiar. She gestured with her head to the mirror on the wall and Arthur looked at the reflection only to see Eames standing where the woman was. Arthur stared dumbly at him because he could not think of a proper thing to say. "We called it 'forgery' over in my homeland," Eames said but he stayed close.
"No one had even touched on that concept in the states. We didn't know it was possible," Arthur said trying to wrap his mind around what he had just witnessed.
"Only three of us managed to get it to work and even then it's not perfect. I could use a lot more practice," Eames said. "Between your skills and mine I think we're marketable, what do you think?"
"Definitely," Arthur said and then his higher brain functions seemed to kick in when he realized how close they were. "You kissed me." Eames smiled sheepishly and opened his mouth to reply when they both woke up.
Eames blinked as he stared at the ceiling. He was breathing hard and he felt a slight vertigo effect but he guessed that was from the blend of Somnicin that they were using. That and the fact that he had not dreamed in well over a year. Now he was trying to come up with a decent excuse for why he had decided to kiss Arthur. He risked looking at his friend and saw Arthur staring at the ceiling with the same clouded expression that he had felt moments before. Arthur was thinner than he'd been when they met all those months ago but Eames guessed he was as well. They both barely had enough money to eat and fund the booze that they managed to go through together. Arthur ran his fingers through his hair, longer now that he was out of the service, and tried to smooth it down before they left but it was curling around the edges. He blinked a few more times before he looked over and they locked gazes. Eames wanted to blurt something out until he realized they were still in the room with the people who owned the PASIV device.
"Let me take a look at the machine," Arthur said as he stood and knelt in front of the equipment. They handed him various tools and watched in awe as he tweaked and fixed everything that could be fixed on the machine. Eames felt a little swell of pride as he watched Arthur work. He was not sure when it had happened but this skinny, dark haired, extremely dangerous young man had become the only person he wanted to converse with. The thought of going out and joining the illegal dream world, doing the impossible with Arthur, it was almost enough to make him giddy. He waited patiently as Arthur finished. "I'll accept cash or credit in the dream next time."
"Yeah, sure, whatever you need," the woman said as she stared at the PASIV device like it was a new machine. Arthur met his eyes and they walked out of the basement apartment and into the city. The sun was still up but Eames felt tired. He blamed his fatigue for not anticipating Arthur grabbing him by the jacket and slamming him against the wall.
"How long?" he asked and Eames stared at him.
"What are you going on about? Have you lost your fucking mind?" he asked but Arthur just stared at him, his features giving nothing away.
"How long, Eames? How long have you wanted to do that?" Arthur asked. "And don't lie to me; I know when you're lying."
"Like hell you do," Eames said on reflex.
"You said you didn't drink the last of my good gin, which I hid from you on purpose I might add, and you lied through your teeth," Arthur said. "Don't change the subject; how long?" Eames found himself in an odd situation. He had no idea what Arthur was going to do. All of this time together and he still could not read the other man, and part of him wanted to lie because he did not want to lose Arthur. It was like getting punched in the stomach; it was not until that moment that he realized that he might have cocked this all up and Arthur would never speak to him again. At the same time, he also respected Arthur and did not want to lie to him, not after he had been the one to kiss Arthur first.
"I'd say 'since I first laid eyes on you' but that would be a lie. I don't know, I woke up one morning last summer before you did and I saw you sleeping on my couch. It just hit me but I decided that it wasn't worth it. I have self control and priorities," Eames said.
"So, for at least half a year then," Arthur said and Eames nodded. "Good, then I don't feel seven steps behind you." He was about to ask what Arthur meant when Arthur crushed their mouths together. They were in an unsafe section of New York and Arthur had him pushed against a wall kissing the breath out of his lungs. Eames pulled away and stared at this man that he cared about a lot more than he thought he had.
"We can't do this here," he said.
"You're right," Arthur said and he took a step back. "My place is closer anyway." Eames stared dumbly at the other man then grinned. They walked at a brisk pace to Arthur's place and Eames would be lying if he said that he did not brush his hands against Arthur whenever he could. As soon as they walked through the door, they were caught up with each other. The kiss was hard, open, hot and probably the best kiss of Eames' entire life. He was fairly sure Arthur was pushing his coat off at the same time Eames was doing the same to his. With the coats gone they were flush against each other and Eames felt like he could almost crush Arthur if he really wanted to. He eased his hands underneath Arthur's shirts and the younger man arched against him.
"Oh fuck, I don't have any supplies," Arthur said breaking their kiss and Eames just stared at him. "What? I wasn't exactly expecting this to happen."
"Who said I was going to fuck you anyway?" Eames said but he was grinning as he said it. Arthur arched an eyebrow before he smiled widely enough to show off his dimples.
"Like you could resist," he said and yanked Eames in for another kiss.
Over the next two months Eames spent most of his time under in a dream. Forgery was still an imperfect art and he was still getting used to slipping into different skins. He perfected several of his original forges, including the woman that Arthur had met, but this time he decided to try something different. He slipped into a forge of Arthur and smiled when he looked into the mirror. It was not Arthur's smile though and he had to focus to mimic his partner's smile. He glanced at his watch and waited for the dream to end. He was just glad that he had remembered to keep track of time this time because previously, he had been in the middle of a forge when he woke up and Arthur had had to listen to him try to regain a coherent line of thought. While he had not voiced it Eames had seen the lines of worry in his friend's face but chose not to confront it.
Eames opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of Arthur's apartment. A week after they went to the underground sleep lab Arthur hacked into his frozen assets and drained the account. Eames was leery about the plan at first but Arthur reminded him that he was very good at covering his tracks. So they paid the people a vast sum of money for the PASIV device and the name of the man dealing the chemicals. That had taken most of the money that Arthur had stolen from himself and they were both bordering on the line of broke again. It was taking much longer to get the money from Eames' account but they had enough chemicals to keep dreaming a little each day and a smaller budget for food. They had also stopped drinking as much. Arthur just waved him off saying that they had different priorities but Eames had a different idea. They had been drinking so much because they had not been entirely sure how to act around each other.
Things were, in fact, very different now. Since the first time they had dreamed and kissed they had become even more comfortable with each other. True to his word Arthur had not had supplies that first night so they had spent the entire night in rather intense make out sessions followed by mind blowing blow jobs. The next morning they lay side by side in Arthur's bed and didn't say anything to each other. The atmosphere in the room was not tense or awkward, it felt natural and that was how it still was. The term 'friends with benefits' was a little too casual for what they had but 'relationship' was not accurate either. They were Arthur and Eames, Eames and Arthur, and what they had did not have a definition.
"I think I've found something," Arthur said and Eames looked up. Arthur had a computer that he had built mostly from spare parts he had haggled for, and it was deceptively powerful. He was wearing a thin t-shirt and light slacks because it was July and they did not have an air conditioner.
"And what might that be?" Eames asked as he pulled the needle out of his wrist and turned the PASIV device off.
"A job." Arthur turned and there was that all too familiar smirk. "An extractor named Virgil is looking for two others to help him with a job. Pay is $250,000 each but no one wants to take it because the only person the mark would trust is his business partner."
"Interesting," Eames said. "If there isn't a strict time line I could do a convincing forge. What do you think?"
"I think it's time we stopped stalling and got out there. This looks like any other business; it's all about reputation and we don't have one yet," Arthur said. He leaned back in his chair so it was only on two legs. "We might need to dress better though. No one would take two people who look homeless seriously." Eames laughed and stood up, walking over to Arthur. They were standing close, they always stood close, because they had no qualms about being in each other's space.
"What did you have in mind?" Eames asked.
"These faded jeans need to go," Arthur said and hooked his fingers in the loop letting the chair fall back on four legs.
"Yeah? Is this something that needs to happen immediately?" the Brit asked and Arthur grinned as he stood; he did not release the loops.
"Sooner is better," he said and Eames could never last long with Arthur standing this close. Eames captured his lips and they kissed each other in a frenzy of teeth and tongues, trying to dominate each other. They stumbled through Arthur's apartment and only got as far as the couch. Eames shoved Arthur down and hovered over him. He was flushed, his lips red and his eyes wide with lust. Eames had decided long ago that he was never going to get sick of seeing Arthur like this. They kissed again and Eames rolled his hips against Arthur's just to hear the groan that his friend made. Arthur pulled off Eames' shirt and practically threw it across the room. Eames was letting his fingers wander up the other man's shirt to touch bare skin when the phone rang and they pulled away.
"When did we get a cell phone?" Eames asked. He wanted to curse the device for cock blocking him.
"I got a prepaid one so Virgil could contact us if he wanted to hire us for the job," Arthur replied but he sounded winded. Eames did not need to be told to move because when Arthur was in work mode there was no stopping him. He sat back on the couch and watched as the other man answered the phone. "Here," he said and he listened to whatever was being said on the other end. "Yes, I understand, and I don't blame you either but has anyone contacted you about this job?" There was another beat of silence. "Exactly, so why don't you at least meet us and we can discuss this in person." Arthur nodded despite the fact that no one could see it. "Eight it is then." He hung up.
"What's the prognosis, doctor?" Eames asked.
"He'll meet us but we're going to have to show off," Arthur said and they both looked at the clock. "Three hours to go. How are your forges?"
"Better than ever," Eames replied.
"All right. We're meeting for dinner so we need to wear our one set of good clothes," Arthur said. "When we get paid the first thing I'm going to do is buy a nice suit. This thrift store shit is getting old." Eames grinned but they both spent the rest of the evening getting ready. Eames went back to his own apartment to shower and get dressed. The nicest things he had were a pair of gray pants with a sky blue button down and blazer that matched the pants. He did not own a tie but he had never been partial to them. As he made his way back to Arthur's, he thought about how it was such a waste of time to keep going back to his apartment. He spent most of his days at Arthur's and slept there almost every night. The idea of co-habiting did not seem like it would be a huge emotional step; it just made sense. When he opened the door Arthur was hunched over his computer. He had on a white button down with a sweater over it. Arthur did not own a tie either and had cursed this fact many times. His slacks were black and well fitting and Eames admired his ass for just a second too long. Arthur did not notice; he was doing research.
They had to take the subway to the restaurant and got several strange looks from people which Eames pointedly ignored. They each had a bag in hand. Arthur had a messenger bag filled with files and papers. Eames carried a secure suitcase containing the PASIV device. Virgil had his own machine, information that Arthur had found, but it seemed like the right thing to do, the dreaming version of bringing your own booze. The restaurant was nice but not too expensive which was good because they did not have a lot of money. Arthur had mentioned that if Virgil took them on for the job he might foot the bill.
"Did he give you a description of himself?" Eames asked as they walked in.
"No, he said he would tell the hostess to bring us to the table. I see him though so let's just go join him," Arthur said. They walked over to a table tucked in a discrete corner. An older gentlemen was seated there, his hair brown with flakes of gray, big green eyes and a wicked smile that was charming at the same time. "Hello, Virgil, I'm Arthur," he said and offered a hand. The extractor looked up, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Arthur, did the hostess point you in my direction?" he asked.
"No, she did not," Arthur replied and something flashed in the other man's eyes; Eames could tell that it was a combination of respect and worry.
"I see. Well, it's nice to meet you," Virgil said and they finally shook hands. "And you must be Eames?"
"That I am," Eames replied and they shook hands as well as they took a seat. Virgil folded his hands on the table and watched them both carefully.
"I've never heard of either of you," he said.
"Not surprising since we haven't done a job yet," Arthur replied easily.
"And how do you know about this at all?" Virgil asked sounding a little amused.
"We both worked on the original project and we have ears that hear the interesting bits of the criminal underworld," Eames offered.
"I see, military then, and what do both of you do?" Virgil asked sounding a little more interested.
"I run point," Arthur said and Eames noted that he did not say 'I will' when he made this statement.
"And how do I know if you're any good?" the extractor asked dubiously. Arthur reached into his bag and pulled out a pile of papers. He then went on to read various details of Virgil's life including his real name, birth date, place he was born, parents' names, all of the schools that he had attended and not only what he was wanted for but where. The more Arthur talked the wider Virgil's eyes became. "I get it, okay, Jesus." His face was a little pale. "And what do you do, Mr. Eames?" For some reason that did not sit well with him; no one but Arthur called him 'Mr. Eames' but he let it slide.
"I'm afraid to show you what I do, we'll have to go under," Eames replied easily.
"And why would I do that?" Virgil asked.
"We can use your machine or ours and we'll go into our heads. You can build the dream if you want," Arthur said. "And I know plenty about you already, Mr. Essex, so what do you have to lose?" The extractor stared at both of them for a long time before he nodded.
"A friend of mine owns this place and there is a private room in the back we can use," Virgil said. They all walked toward the room. Virgil locked the door twice and moved a few chairs so they could lie down. Arthur took the machine and set it up, getting the lines out and setting the timer for two minutes. "I will be the dreamer. I would like to go into your head, Mr. Arthur."
"Sure," Arthur said shrugging. "My projections can be a little twitchy though so try not to cause a commotion." Eames grinned as they all lay down. There was a set of nods among the three of them so Arthur pushed the button. Arthur lay back down as Eames felt the chemicals surge through his veins. As the world faded he grinned when Arthur winked at him.
Eames blinked and saw that he was in a park. The layout of the dream was very basic and he spotted Virgil almost right away. He waited a moment before Arthur joined him. The other man was in the same clothes he had been wearing in the restaurant but his jacket was gone and his sleeves were rolled up. He looked a little worried as they watched the projections. They did not go into Arthur's head often because it did not take a lot to set off his projections. One look at Arthur and he knew the man was armed and one look at Virgil and he knew the extractor was as well.
"Not a lot of mirrors here," Eames said his arms crossed.
"There's a public restroom over there. I'm sure there will be one in there; I have your back," Arthur said and they both moved toward the bathroom. Arthur kept an eye on the door when Eames looked into the mirror.
"Who should we do this time?" he asked.
"Someone he won't expect. Go with the little boy," Arthur said. "Dream yourself up a toy with a mirror."
"That will get their attention without a doubt," Eames said.
"I'll kick you both out if things get ugly," Arthur said and their eyes met. "I've got your back, Eames."
"I know," he said and stared at the mirror. Shifting into another skin was still something that felt very unnatural. His features folded into that of a little ginger boy, around six years old with lots of freckles and big pale green eyes. He was based off of a friend that Eames had had as a kid but not entirely. Arthur was looking out the door looking like the world was about to cave in on them. The shift in the world around them was enough that the projections were starting to get antsy.
"Go show off but do it fast. Getting our extractor torn apart is probably not the best idea," Arthur said and Eames nodded. He made his way through the crowd and started to cry as he made his way to Virgil.
"Mister, mister," he said tugging on the extractor's pants. The older man blinked and looked down at Eames with a look of fear and then relief. "I can't find my mommy." He did a couple of those big, hiccupping cries that little kids always did. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arthur moving.
"Well, I don't think I should be the one to help you," Virgil said and Eames wanted to curse the man because a guy telling a kid that he did not want to help him would make the projections nervous. He had to wrap this up fast.
"There's a picture in here, won't you help me?" Eames said and he sat down next to the extractor. He opened the toy and a little mirror flashed at them. He was himself in the reflection and when Virgil looked up, Eames had dropped his forge. Virgil jumped and scrambled back a few steps.
"How the fuck did you do that?" he asked but the dreamer changing so much was enough to set the projections off. Families and joggers were starting to crowd about them with deadly intent. Virgil had a gun in his hand but there was a single shot and a bullet between his eyes. The dream started to collapse and Eames turned just in time to see Arthur shoot him between the eyes.
Eames jerked awake breathing hard and tried to slow his pulse down. He had been killed hundreds of different ways but that never made it any easier. When he glanced over he saw that Arthur was still under but Virgil was staring at him with wide eyes. The look of surprise on the extractor's face was nice because he was pretty sure they had just landed their first job. Arthur's eyes opened slowly but he never jerked away when he was killed in a dream. If he was bothered, he was very good at concealing it from others.
"It's called 'forging' or at least that's what we called it," Eames explained. "If given enough time I could adopt the mannerisms of a person enough to mimic them in a dream."
"Like the business partner," Virgil said and he stared at them. "All right then, let's do this. The job is in Maine but the employer is willing to pay for us to get there." Eames exchanged a look with Arthur because that was a hurdle they had not been sure they could clear. "I'll tell him that we're on our way and he'll have flights for us. I'll call you with the details."
"Sounds good," Arthur said and he finished packing up their belongings.
"Nice shot by the way," Virgil said as he unlocked the door but Arthur did not respond. They did not say anything to each other as they left the restaurant and got on the subway. They remained in complete silence until they were in Arthur's apartment, jackets off and bags on the floor. In that moment Eames was not sure what he wanted to do more; kiss Arthur, fuck him, or just exchange a high five because they had gotten their first job. Arthur made the choice for him by throwing his arms around Eames and kissing him deeply. They both laughed a little when they pulled apart but stayed close.
"No going back once we get on the plane," Arthur said and they were so close that their lips were touching.
"Then we should probably tie up some loose ends here," Eames said and they smiled at each other.
The tickets to Maine came a day later. In that time Eames had moved all of his things out of his apartment and either into storage, under a false name, or into Arthur's place. Arthur took the hard drive out of his computer and locked it in a safe. All evidence of the chemicals and the PASIV device were gone and they burned any extra papers that were lying around. If anyone went into the apartment there would be no evidence anything illegal was being done in it. They packed one bag full of decent clothes and got the false ID's that Eames had created for them as soon as they decided to look into mind crime. Virgil had been clever enough to ask for those names and they went off to the airport. The extractor said that he was going to cover getting the equipment so that was one less worry on their minds. They made it to JFK and through security with no problems. They were flying first class since their employer was wealthy enough to afford it.
"What are you going to do with your share?" Eames asked. They were in one of the private lounges and there was no one else around.
"Buy a suit. I told you that already," Arthur replied but Eames just stared at him. "I also need a laptop and I'll go from there. What about you?"
"Not sure yet," Eames replied honestly. "We'll just have to see." They stared at each other and Arthur's eyes darted around before he leaned forward and kissed Eames briefly.
"When was the last time you flew?" Arthur asked and he stayed close.
"When I came to the states," Eames replied easily and he loved it when Arthur got that look in his eye. "Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering," the younger man replied and he sat back in the chair. They boarded the plane and Eames relaxed in the comfortable chairs. The flight was not long but that did not mean he was not going to indulge a little. When the stewardess asked if they wanted drinks Arthur declined for both of them. "No drinking on the job." Eames rolled his eyes and waited as the plane took off. The first class section was surprisingly empty with two businessmen with headphones in their ears and staring at laptops. The stewardess was off doing something when Arthur stood. Eames watched him and when their eyes met Arthur smiled wickedly. If there was one thing he had grown to know about Arthur in the months that they had known each other, it was to trust that smile because it always led to good things. He was unable to hide his grin when Arthur vanished into the first class bathroom. When ten minutes passed Eames had a pretty good idea of what that smirk meant. For a second he thought about just leaving Arthur in there just to see how riled up he could get him. That lasted for only a moment when he remembered that this was Arthur and he could not get enough of the man even if he wanted to.
Eames stood and walked over to the first class restroom. One was available and the other was locked. He knocked on the locked door twice, the door opened and Arthur pulled him inside roughly.
"I was beginning to think I should have painted you a picture," Arthur said.
"Would you? I need some good wanking material while we're working," Eames replied. Arthur rolled his eyes and pressed himself against Eames but did not touch him anywhere with his hands. Their lips were inches apart and Eames could feel Arthur's hot breath against his own mouth. "You're a fucking tease, you know that?"
"Maybe you should fuck the tease out of me," Arthur said and the words went straight to Eames' groin. That was all the motivation he needed to close those inches between them with a kiss. It was hard and open, like all their kisses seemed to be, and this time he was going to be the one to dominate it. Eames bit on Arthur's lower lip and the younger man groaned into his mouth. The toilet felt too small for what he really wanted to do to Arthur so he was going to have to be clever.
"Now while I would love to do that we are supposed to meet Virgil and our employer when we land," Eames said between kisses as he traced his fingers along Arthur's stomach. "And I know how much you value professionalism."
"You're a bastard," Arthur said but there was no bite behind it.
"So, since you're apparently the randy one right now, how about I get you off and then we'll blow off some steam on a nice hotel bed, hmm?" Eames said as he worked on the button to Arthur's pants. While he was going to be frustrated beyond belief for a few hours he knew that they really could not afford to draw too much attention to themselves and if they both stayed in here too long someone would notice. There was just enough room for Eames to drop to his knees and unbuckle Arthur's pants. He could feel the other man's gaze burning holes into his skull but he knew better than to look up when Arthur was in this state. Eames eased Arthur's pants and boxers down his legs just enough that he was able to remove the other man's cock. Vaguely he heard the sound of plastic creaking under pressure and he had a feeling that Arthur was clutching the sink with a vise like grip. Without any hint or warning Eames took the other man into his mouth slowly. After a month of having a rather intense sexual relationship with Arthur he was beginning to know exactly what his friend wanted. He knew that when an incoherent level of curses, sometimes in a couple different languages, started it meant that he needed to do whatever he had just done again. He knew that when it was just his name Arthur was close. And he knew that when all was said and done Arthur's bones turned to jelly and all he wanted to do was melt into Eames.
"Fuck, Eames," Arthur said in a breathy voice and when Eames let his eyes travel up he saw that Arthur was well on his way to biting his own finger off as he tried to remain silent. A few bobs of his head and one long lick with his tongue and Arthur was coming down Eames' throat. He swallowed the other man down easily and stood close. They kissed again, this time a little slower, more gentle, but that was how their kisses always were when they were both spent.
"For the record," Eames said. "I expect that you'll pay me back on our flight home."
"You know I hate being indebted to people," Arthur replied.
Arthur wondered if he looked fucked out when they both managed to make their way back to their seats. No one seemed to notice what they had done and if they had they were ignoring it. He wondered if this sort of thing happened often on planes and if frequent fliers were just used to it. Even so he did his best to slip back into his cool professionalism because if there was one thing he could do it was compartmentalize. Arthur did not say anything to Eames for the rest of the flight because he was far too busy looking through the notes he had managed to compile about Virgil and the job. It seemed rather straight forward so he did not see any reason why the payout was so large. There was a detail that was being kept from the grapevine and Arthur did not have time to look into it.
When the plane landed he found a message from Virgil telling him where they were going to meet their client. Arthur deleted the message right away and walked with Eames toward the rental cars. He sat back and watched his friend sweet talk the receptionist into giving them a different car than what was in the paperwork. Eames knew how to manipulate people to such a degree that it was almost entertaining to watch him turn those charms on some unexpected civilian. Arthur could tell when Eames was using psychology against people and that was how he knew that Eames had not done any of that to him..
Eames tossed Arthur the keys and they both went into the garage to get their car. They threw their bags into the backseat and drove into Augusta, Maine. Arthur had never been to the city before but he had looked over the maps before they left. Between his map reading skills and Eames' natural sense of direction they got to a small apartment building buried in the outskirts of the city. The place looked a little run down and the apartments were in worse condition.
"It'll be like we never left home," Eames said sarcastically.
"Very funny, Mr. Eames," Arthur said as they gathered the rest of their things. In the bottom of his bag was a decent laptop Arthur had managed to buy before they left. It had cost the rest of his food budget for the month but he could not do this job without a computer. Eames, however, did not know this and would most likely not be happy that Arthur had put work before his own welfare. There was going to be a fight and Arthur hoped it would be a private one. There was another car marked as a rental on the other side of the parking lot and an SUV that probably came with every special feature known to man. They exchanged glances and walked up the stairs to the apartment. Arthur knocked twice and the door opened to reveal the extractor.
"I see you got here without any problems?" Virgil asked as he stepped aside to let them in. The apartment was as he had expected though there were less pieces of furniture. There were three desks, a table with cheap chairs sitting in a circle and what looked like a kitchen set. Sitting at the kitchen set was an older gentleman named Boris Lombardi. He was a Russian businessman working for a computer technology firm based out of Boston. There was another technology firm in Augusta and Arthur could only assume that the head of that firm was their mark. "Gentlemen, this is Mr. Lombardi and he is the man that hired us."
"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Arthur said shaking the businessman's hand. He wanted to point out that he already knew who their employer was but decided against it because that would sound a little too smug.
"Nice to meet you," Eames said and he shook Lomardi's hand as well.
"Gentlemen, good to see both of you. Virgil spoke highly of both of you and he seems to think that you are the key to getting my job done," Lombardi said with a thick accent. "How much do you know already?"
"Not very much-" Virgil began but Arthur met Lombardi's eyes without hesitation. Lombardi had asked him the question and no one else so apparently the businessman wanted to test his skills.
"Your company, ZiraTech, is trying to perfect the new technology surrounding computer security though at the moment you are not the only one trying to dominate this market. Your competition is Badwin Electronics based out of Augusta. Their CEO is John Kitchen and his business partner is Mike Richards," Arthur said without breaking eye contact. Virgil looked a little annoyed but Eames just smirked. Lombardi, however, looked impressed.
"Very good; I can see you've done your research even in the small amount of time that I gave you. Kitchen will only trust Richards with his business plans and I want to know what they are so I can stop them," Lombardi said.
"There is another angle though," Eames said as if reading Arthur's mind. Virgil seemed to catch on as well.
"Yes, not that I'm not thankful for the amount of money that you are offering to pay us, but it seems a little extreme. Is there something you're not telling us?" the extractor asked. "If you know something we don't, or will be unable to find, you need to let us know. Any surprises going into Kitchen's head could result in a failed job." Arthur had to give a little credit to Virgil because he seemed good at stringing facts together in a way that sounded appealing. From what Arthur had gathered extractors had to be good at getting people to easily trust them and they had to know all the tricks for getting someone to spill their secrets. He had not seen one at work yet but he was curious as to how they went about doing their jobs.
"There are rumors throughout the grapevine that Kitchen knows about dream technology to a much further extent than other people," Lombardi said.
"You mean he's been under before?" Virgil asked.
"It's possible," Lombardi said as he stood. "I understand that this complicates things so I will give you gentlemen a chance to discuss it. If you feel you cannot accomplish my job I will find someone else." That was a challenge if he had ever heard one and Arthur watched their possible client walk out the door through narrow eyes.
"'Complicates things' is an understatement," Eames said once the door closed. "For all we know the bastard could have enough training to know the difference between dreams and reality."
"If nothing else he could catch on faster," Virgil said and he sat down in his chair looking pensive. "Arthur, is there any way you could find out if he's actually been under before?"
"If there is I will find it," Arthur replied.
"And I need access to Richards," Eames said and Virgil looked at him questioningly. "Forging a real person will be different from a character I've created myself. I need to see how he interacts with people, how he talks, holds his pencil, drinks his coffee, all of the subtle gestures that people do without realizing it."
"We'll figure out a way," Virgil said but he did not continue. Arthur tried to think of some way around the possibility of his projections catching on too fast but he needed a plan to pick apart first. "Well, what do you two think? Can we do this job?"
"Well Lombardi was obviously baiting us," Eames said. "Arthur and I have dealt with minds that have been under a lot before and it can be done. You just have to be very careful." There was an unspoken question there that Arthur heard; it's your call.
"I think that it's risky but we could pull it off," Arthur said. "And if there is any indication that things are going to get ugly we'll find a way around it."
"All right then. I'll call Lombardi. Let's get to work," Virgil said.
Predictably Eames shot him a very nasty look when Arthur pulled his laptop out of his bag. They had been in separate lines going through security so there was no way the other man could have known about the laptop. Virgil was on the phone formally accepting the job as Arthur opened up the new computer and started to set everything up. There was plenty more research that he needed to do and he also needed to work on a way to get into Badwin Electronics. It was easy to shut the other man out and tunnel vision focus on everything he needed to find. This was one of the things he enjoyed and missed about being in the military: finding information that people thought had been hidden and buried forever. Arthur spent the first day doing research while Eames and Virgil started to discuss the dream levels. Arthur only heard every third word or so but he knew that when they started a formal planning session they would fill him in.
The hours flew by and before he realized it the sun was down and his stomach was growling. Arthur rubbed his eyes when Eames put a hand on his shoulder.
"Dinner?" he asked.
"Please," Arthur said nodding. They both packed their things and Virgil gave them two keys for two hotel rooms. It was good that Virgil did not seem to realize that they were more than co-workers. What they actually were was something that Arthur did not bother to think about too much. Eames was his friend, he was excellent in bed, and they worked flawlessly together. It did not seem like this was something that needed to change. They took the rental to the hotel that was a few blocks away and carried their bags to their rooms. Arthur opened his door and he was not surprised when Eames pushed his way into the room though he did not set his bags down.
"When did you get a computer?" Eames asked as Arthur set his things down.
"Before we left," Arthur replied.
"And with what money?" Eames asked. Arthur did not respond. "Bloody brilliant, Arthur, what are you supposed to eat while we're doing this job?"
"I'll figure something out," he said and then there was a hand on his shoulder turning him around. Eames was standing very close glaring. "You don't need to babysit me, Mr. Eames. I can take care of myself."
"Right," Eames said and turned to leave. "I'm going to get food. I'd invite you to come with but you're too busy being an idiot."
"Get over yourself, Eames," Arthur said rolling his eyes. The other man glared and left the room without another word. He really was not in the mood to deal with this at the moment and he was not entirely worried about it either. Arthur always bumped heads with Eames, it was one of the reasons why they did not get bored with each other, and it usually ended with one of them getting drunk. This time, however, he was not going to do that. Instead Arthur decided to put his dinner on the room and ordered some food. As he waited for it to come up Arthur opened up his computer and notebook to go over his notes.
The next morning Arthur was not surprised that Eames was in the free breakfast dining area nursing a cup of tea. Arthur joined him without a word and opened his paper. There was really nothing to apologize for so neither of them did do so. Instead they talked about the job in vague terms and went to the apartment at nine. Virgil was not there yet but Arthur had found a loop in the security screening for Kitchen's company and could get Eames through the front door to watch Richards. The thought made him a little uneasy even if there was no indication that Kitchen was dangerous. He did not voice these concerns though because Eames was always careful when it came to serious things.
"Any idea how long this is going to take?" Arthur asked as Eames was putting the finishing touches on the security ID that he was forging.
"Not sure," Eames replied without looking up. "I've never forged a real person besides you."
"You've forged me?" Arthur asked and the other man grinned. "Somehow I'm not surprised." Virgil joined them a half hour later and they started going through the information to decide what would be useful. Eames was going to start his reconnaissance the next day so they needed to get a handle on what the dream was going to look like. Arthur was the only one who seemed to have a lot of experience building dreams and they did not have access to an architect who could design the dream for him. He did not want to do both jobs but he nodded anyway. He would be the dreamer so it was really just a matter of designing the dream for himself. "How should we design the dream?"
"An office would be the obvious solution but Kitchen would notice details that are off about his own office," Virgil said. "So let's have them meet at a restaurant. Do you know how to make the mazes loop into themselves?"
"Yes, I can build the level," Arthur replied. "How are you going to get him to tell us his business plan?"
"Eames will forge Richards and they will start talking about the plan. I'll join them and mention that important things need to be kept in safe places and Kitchen will project the plans into a literal safe. All we need to do is break into that safe and we'll get what we need," the extractor said.
"Interesting," Eames said. "The mind will put secrets in a safe place without even realizing it's doing it. It certainly sounds convincing."
"How will you get Kitchen to trust you?" Arthur asked.
"He won't trust me, per say, I'll just come in as an assistant or intern and mention the safe files. He'll be trusting Richards. Eames essentially makes Kitchen think about the plans by talking about them and I form a place for him to hide them," Virgil explained.
"Any idea how we'll get to him?" Eames asked.
"I'm working on that," Virgil admitted.
"Kitchen is not a paranoid person but he does keep a close eye on his surroundings. We'll have to be careful about where we get him," Arthur said and he wrote a few more notes. "We'll need an estimate on how long we'll need in the dream as well."
"Specifics will get sorted out." Virgil waved him off.
"Specifics can ruin us," Arthur said narrowing his eyes. "We need to have all of our bases covered so this gets done the right way. I'll start working on our exit strategy too so we can leave quickly."
"Do what you need to, Arthur," Virgil said but he looked annoyed which Arthur pointedly ignored. They spoke a little more and then broke off for the night. Arthur drove back to the hotel with Eames and wondered if the other man was going to be all right getting into the building the next day. Neither of them said a word when Eames joined Arthur in his room and they ordered room service. Arthur looked over his notes and computer again as Eames looked over the file. They did not say much to each other as they worked but it was comfortable working in the same room as Eames again. The man was a distraction but he also helped Arthur focus for some reason.
"Didn't we discuss something about these hotel beds on the way here?" Eames asked sounding nonchalant. Arthur stopped typing and smiled to himself.
"Don't you need to be well rested for tomorrow?" he asked.
"This is true," the other man replied and he actually sounded serious which was surprising. Arthur closed his laptop and lay back on the bed so he could see Eames looking over the file with intensity. Eames' eyes flicked over to him and they stared at each other. Want curled in Arthur's stomach and he licked his lips. He wanted to push Eames into the sheets but they were on an official job, and it would just be a distraction.
"After this job is done I'll see if we can stay an extra night," Arthur said and Eames smirked.
"That sounds like a brilliant plan," he replied closing the file. "And on that note I'm going back to my room because if you keep looking at me like that I won't be able to hold up my end of that bargain."Arthur chuckled and leaned back on his elbows as Eames walked out of the room.
"Eames," Arthur said and the other man turned around so they were looking at each other. He wanted to tell Eames to be careful but the man was military and smart so it seemed like it would be an insult to do so. At the same time it felt like something that he should say because he was Eames after all. Eames flashed him a smile and somehow Arthur knew that his point had gotten across. The other man left the room and Arthur went back to work on his research.
Arthur did not see much of Eames over the next month but that was to be expected. He needed the time to design the dream and finish trying to find as much information on Kitchen as he could. There was some evidence that he knew about dreaming but he could not find anything concrete which was irritating because Arthur did not like 'what if's' and 'maybe's' since this was the sort of thing one could mess up on and have it backlash in the worst possible way. Virgil was annoyed that Arthur would not show him the design of the dream but when he explained that it was better that only he knew it the extractor left it alone. The stress of two jobs was giving him a headache and he fell asleep in the apartment without realizing it.
The feeling of someone moving behind him jerked him awake and Arthur turned with every intention of knocking the wind out of the intruder only to have Eames block the punch before Arthur had time to think twice. He blinked the sleep from behind his eyes and drew his hand back.
"Sorry," Arthur apologized.
"I came up behind you. I'm surprised you didn't stab me with a pen," Eames replied grinning and he looked tired. "Another week and I'll be good to forge Richards."
"The level is done. I just can't seem to find out if Kitchen has ever been under before," Arthur replied heaving a sigh. "If we go in there and he startles his projections who knows what will happen. It's even worse if he's a lucid dreamer. I can cover our tracks but that will be very hard if he remembers our faces."
"I'm assuming you plan on staying out of sight with a gun trained on each projection," Eames said taking a seat next to him. "So really all he is getting a look at is Virgil provided that things go well."
"That's the plan," Arthur said rubbing his temples. "The only place we can get to him is while he's at work or at home. I don't want to do a break and enter because there are so many ways that can go wrong but taking him at work is just as bad."
"What about a massage? He seems like the indulgent type. If we get him into the place we can get him while he is on the table and he'll think he just fell asleep. I can even make it seem like it was Richards' idea. Pass word on from one person to another all the way up to Richards. He would do anything to keep his boss happy."
"Let me know if it works," Arthur replied. "We are hiring an architect next time, though I expect you to relax me plenty after this is over and we are considerably richer." He stood so they were nearly skin to skin; he could feel Eames' body heat and he wanted to shove him against the desk.
"Don't you worry your pretty head," Eames replied, hooking his fingers into Arthur's belt loops. "We'll relax plenty." The sound of the lock turning made them take two steps away from each other as Virgil walked in. Eames gave him an update on how much time he needed. They set a tentative date for the job because there was no way of knowing when Kitchen would take the massage. Virgil got on the phone and called Lombardi to get money to bribe the masseuse while Arthur looked over his drawing of the restaurant that they would be doing the job in, taking in every detail. He had enough confidence in his research, more than enough in his design, and utter faith in Eames' forge. Instead of worrying further Arthur finished planning their exit route.
True to Eames' word Kitchen took the offer of the massage and they were on the move five weeks after accepting the job. Arthur packed up the PASIV device and they parked their cars several blocks away from the massage parlor. Eames had taken a taxi so they were not seen together and when their eyes met across the road the other man gave the slightest of nods. Arthur knew that it was the sign that they were in the clear so far. Within a span of thirty minutes they all wandered to the back of the massage parlor and through the back door that the owner had left open. The owner had stated that she was going to give the massage personally and that her employees were all not to disturb her since it was a high profile client. Virgil slipped a sedative into a glass of water that the woman gave to Kitchen. The businessman drank it eagerly and lay down to wait for his massage to start. The woman started but stopped as soon as Kitchen was asleep.
"This should be more than enough," Virgil said as he passed the girl $5000. Lombardi had been very clear that any amount of money would do as long as the job got done.
"You do whatever you want," she said taking the cash greedily. Arthur glanced over his shoulder as he set the timer on the PASIV device. Virgil flashed her a smile and locked the door twice from the inside. Just to be safe he pushed a chair against the door. Arthur pulled the three lines out and set the doses of the chemicals properly. He would be the first one under and the last one to leave because it was his job to make sure that his teammates got out safe. He caught Eames' eye as they all lay down.
"Let's do this," Virgil said and Arthur pushed the button. The chemicals surged through his veins and the world faded away.
Arthur blinked as the dream fell into place around him. He could tell that Kitchen's projections were not exactly catching on but they seemed agitated. He wasted no time retrieving the several guns he had hidden in the dream for himself. The inside of the restaurant looked like any other high class place and it looped into itself. He was the dreamer and he was the one that they were going to go after. If nothing else he needed to make sure that Virgil got the package. From where he was sitting Arthur could see Virgil sitting at the bar and Eames walking over to Kitchen as Richards. It was always disorienting to see Eames in the skin of another person because in one sense he knew it was his friend but on the other hand it looked nothing like Eames.
The real moment would come when Eames joined Kitchen and they discovered whether or not he accepted the forge. If he did not then things would get ugly fast. They spoke and Kitchen seemed at ease. That was enough for Arthur and he checked his watch. They had two hours in the dream but he was not sure how to kick them out without shooting them in the head. Instead he watched Eames interact with Kitchen and kept his eyes on everyone around him. He was supposed to be the last one out but Arthur decided that he could kick himself out and then wake Eames and Virgil up without having to kill them. There was still a little time to mull it over and he busied himself by keeping an eye on the projections that moved around him.
The conversation seemed to be going at a socially smooth place but the longer they spent in the dream the longer they risked having the projections catch on which was exactly what they were starting to do. Projections stared at Arthur and he felt the entire dream atmosphere shift because things were on edge now. Virgil must have felt it too because he went over and spoke with Eames and Kitchen briefly. His eyes skipped to the nearby manager's office where the safe was located and from the way Virgil smiled he seemed confident that the plans were going to be inside. The extractor vanished into the manager's office and the projections became even more agitated. Eames must have noticed because he convinced Kitchen to go with him to the restroom. One glance over his shoulder and Arthur knew that Eames was going to barricade himself in there as long as he could.
Arthur stood up and began to make his way through the maze. People started to follow him and he saw knives and forks in their hands. He did not want to get killed with a butter knife but he did not move too fast to alert them even further. Suddenly the entire dream changed and the projections started chasing him. Arthur took off through the maze shooting as he went. He managed to put some space between him and the projections when his phone rang.
"Please tell me this is good news, Virgil," he said.
"I have the information. Are the projections after you?" the extractor asked.
"Yes, but they are all mostly on me. Keep going over that information and memorize it. I'm going to kick myself out," Arthur said and hung up the phone. He turned a sharp corner, put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger just as a woman dressed in formal wear stabbed him in the stomach with a steak knife.
Arthur opened his eyes and, ignoring the pounding in his head and the sharp pain in his stomach, he knocked over Eames' and Virgil's chairs. The two men blinked awake but Arthur was already cleaning up the PASIV device. Virgil snatched a notebook and wrote information down at a furious pace. Eames blinked slowly as if he was having trouble focusing on the ceiling. Arthur knelt in front of him and touched his hand while removing the line.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, just disorientated. I was still in Richards' skin when you kicked us out and it feels strange but I'll be fine," Eames replied and he flashed an uneasy smile. "Now we know that I should drop the skin before waking up. Learning experience and what not." Arthur squeezed his shoulder and they began to gather their things. Virgil looked very smug as they walked out of the massage parlor and the adrenaline was starting to wear off when Arthur began to realize that they had just stolen information from another person's mind. Virgil called Lombardi and told him to meet them back at the apartment and he took off toward his own car. Arthur exchanged a look with Eames and they both walked to their rental car. Eames still looked a little pale but he seemed better than he had been a few minutes ago.
"That was intense," Arthur said as they sat down in the car.
"It really was," Eames agreed. Neither of them said much on the way back to the apartment and Arthur's mind was too busy going over how they were going to get out of the city. He wanted to spend one more night in the hotel with Eames but the projections running him down like that had his nerves on edge.
"Why are you holding your side?" Eames asked as they walked up the stairs. Arthur blinked and realized he was holding the spot where the projection had stabbed him; it still ached.
"Elderly woman with a steak knife," he replied and Eames winced. They opened the door and found Virgil on the phone again. Arthur began to clean up his desk. He gathered a pile of papers that he would burn and began to wipe down the surface.
"Lombardi is on his way," Virgil said. "Excellent work, both of you, you're going to do well in this business."
"Thank you," Arthur replied and he shook Virgil's hand.
"Good working with you, mate," Eames said and he seemed more like himself. The door opened and Lombardi walked in.
"I think you'll find that this helps you," Virgil said handing over the notes. Their employer smiled and nodded as he looked at the paper.
"Well done, gentlemen. I will place the money in your accounts. Have a safe travel home," the Russian businessman said and they all exchanged a few more handshakes. Virgil left after his things were cleaned up and Eames helped Arthur finish wiping down the apartment and putting bleach on everything. When it smelled and looked clean they left and went back to the hotel. They were barely in the room when Eames slammed Arthur against the wall and stole his lips into a searing kiss. They broke apart for only moments as they pulled off their shirts quickly. Arthur dug his fingers into Eames' shoulders and bit on the other man's lower lip. Arthur managed to twist his body so that Eames fell back against the bed and Arthur moved to straddle him.
"I thought I was going to be the one to push you into the sheets," Eames said smirking.
"I decided that it's my turn," Arthur replied and he claimed Eames' lips in another kiss. Arthur rolled his hips against Eames and smirked at the groan the other man released. Arthur went to work on Eames' belt as he kissed along his collarbone and neck. Two hands snatched his waist and Arthur looked up but Eames did not say anything. He just moved the two of them so their pants were discarded on the floor. Arthur was not sure what to make of that but decided it was not worth thinking about too much. Instead he reached into his drawer and pulled out a small bottle of lube and a condom. Before he could react Eames managed to flip them both over so he was on top. "I thought I said it was my turn."
"And I decided that I would much rather it be mine," Eames replied smirking. It took almost no time for the two of them to shed the last of their clothes and Arthur's breath hitched when Eames pushed a slick finger into him. He was familiar enough with Eames now that Arthur felt no shame in being vocal. The other man placed kisses all along his neck and Arthur almost saw stars when Eames put in a second finger. Their lips met again and Eames swallowed up the groan Arthur made when he twisted his fingers. Vaguely he heard Eames ask if he was ready and Arthur realized he must have nodded because the next thing he felt was the other man pushing into him. Arthur braced for the brutal pace that they always seemed to set but Eames had other ideas. He just rocked them together and for some reason Arthur was okay with that. Even with their slower pace all it took was Eames biting his collarbone for Arthur to come. Eames was not far behind and they lay together as they tried to catch their breath.
"We have an early flight tomorrow. We should get out of town," Arthur said as he disentangled himself from Eames so they could clean themselves up.
"Sounds good," Eames replied and Arthur closed his eyes as he lay in the bed. He felt Eames shift and sleep on his side of the bed like they always did and listened as the other man's breathing evened out. Arthur, however, opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His mind was going three hundred miles per hour and he spent the better part of the night staring into the darkness unable to wind down.
The first thing Arthur did when the sun was up and he could justify getting out of bed without cause for suspicion was check their bank accounts. The money had been sent to offshore accounts and he started to filter some of their earnings into accounts that they could use to buy things that they actually needed. Arthur drummed his fingers on the desk and stared at the vast amount of money he had just made. The money was not the thing that had his skin itching though; it was the prospect of what they had just done. It was odd doing something like this using the skills he had learned from the military. After checking to make sure that their flights were running on time Arthur decided that there was another search that he needed to do. They had both fallen off the grid a long time ago but Arthur had a feeling that the government was keeping an eye on them or at least checking up. They needed to change apartments right away and make sure that everything was under different names. They needed to vanish like the dead men they were.
"That's a lot of zeros," Eames said looking over Arthur's chair at the computer. "Looks like you can get that suit now."
"You should get something decent too since we are going to be working," Arthur said. Eames grinned at him and headed for the bathroom.
"Care to join me? Save water for the environment and what not," Eames said from the door.
"Keep it quick, Mr. Eames, we do need to get to the airport," Arthur said rolling his eyes. The other man laughed and vanished into the bathroom. The water began to run but something was not right. He could not tell what it was but he had a strong feeling that something was wrong. He covered their tracks flawlessly and he was almost positive that there was no way for anyone to track them. Still there was a knot in his stomach that would not go away despite how many times he checked all of the details over and over again. He was so engrossed that he did not hear Eames get out of the shower until the door closed.
"All yours," Eames said with a wave of his hand. Arthur shut down his computer and went into the bathroom for a shower. He ran the water a little too hot and hoped that it would take the knots out of his shoulders but it did not help. A little frustrated Arthur shut off the water and wrapped a towel around his hips. Using a towel he wiped the steam from the mirror and looked at himself for a moment. His hair was quite long and as much as Eames had said that his naturally curly hair looked okay it did not look professional. He decided to find something better to do with it when they got back. Arthur left the bathroom and they busied themselves with getting their things ready. The taxi ride to the airport was uneventful and neither of them spoke. Inside the airport they made meaningless conversation and Arthur stared at his computer the entire way back to New York. They were in the process of getting a taxi when his phone rang; it was Virgil's number.
"Arthur here," he said.
"Mr. Arthur." Arthur froze when he heard Lombardi's voice.
"Mr. Lombardi, was there a complication?" he asked.
"You could say that. Your extractor friend decided it would be a good idea to sell the information you extracted back to Kitchen for double the money," Lombardi explained. "You can see how this presents an issue."
"Yes, sir, I do, but I can assure you that we had no part in that," Arthur said. Eames looked at him, concerned.
"Yes, I'm aware, and I also know that you have not been in this business very long so consider this a warning along with some advice. I put a bullet in Mr. Virgil's head for double crossing me and I think you would do well to remember that not all belligerent employers will be as kind," Lombardi said and the line went dead. Arthur stared at the phone and back at Eames. He did not say anything but Eames seemed to understand that something was wrong. They continued toward the taxis and Arthur slipped the phone into a trash can.
Arthur put several things into motion as soon as he got off the phone with Lombardi. He canceled his lease and Eames helped him empty the apartment within a day. That same day they both went their separate ways to find new apartments. They had been living together, more or less, before the job but they each needed a place to fall back on. It did not bother him at all and they each helped the other move in. Arthur made sure that the locations of their apartments were hard to find so they had safe places to go to when they came home from a job. After moving Arthur got a new phone and also got one for Eames. There had to be ways for potential employers to contact them for new jobs and Arthur was more than ready to take another one. Now they were putting their names out as a 'forger' and a 'point man' so people knew what they were getting into.
True to his word Arthur bought a new suit with his hard earned money. He even insisted that Eames get some nicer clothes but the other man had a flair for color that did not sit well with Arthur's own neutral colors. In the end he was not sure who teased whom more about it. They still spent a lot of time with each other and there was no label that he could give them. Arthur liked having things labeled and his relationship with Eames was one that defied definition. It was annoying but it also took all of the pressure off of having expectations of each other. They came and went in each other's lives and neither wanted something from the other.
It was the middle of the afternoon a month after the Lombardi job that Eames let himself into the apartment with his key without knocking. Arthur looked up from his computer in the sitting room and rolled his eyes.
"One of these days you're going to walk through that door and I'm going to shoot you," Arthur said.
"Wouldn't surprise me in the slightest," Eames replied easily. "I got a job offer."
"Really." Arthur leaned back in his chair as Eames settled onto the couch. "Did they give you any details?"
"No, but they asked me if I knew any decent point men and I gave them your name. I suspect they'll call you within the next hour or two," he said. "Extractor was British though so I'm fairly sure she knows what a forger is which is probably why she called me."
"That makes sense. Are they going to give you further details soon?" Arthur asked and Eames nodded. "Well you'll have to let me know how it goes if they don't call me."
"They will," Eames said smiling. "Now, I insist that you eat something. You tend to forget when you get all wrapped up in work and then you get cranky and frankly I don't want to deal with you when you're cranky."
"I'm lucky you put up with me at all?" Arthur asked smirking.
"Absolutely," he said and the forger walked into the kitchen. Arthur followed and leaned against the counter to watch the other man make lunch. Arthur was never any good at cooking, neither was Eames to be honest but he was competent at least, so it was not unusual that he was the one who usually cooked. He watched Eames gather supplies for a moment only to move from the counter and move into the other man's space effectively pinning him against a counter. At this point in their relationship it was not that one reached for the other first; they moved at the same time. Eames' lips were soft and Arthur let their tongues dance together before pulling away. "That might be another reason why I put up with you."
"I would hope so," Arthur said knowing how smug he sounded. He then proceeded to help Eames make some sandwiches and before long they were both sitting on the couch eating. They were eating in an easy silence when Arthur's phone went off. Eames sent him a knowing smile as the point man picked up his phone. "Arthur here."
"Hello, Arthur, my name is Lizzy, and I believe I have a job that you might be interested in. I'm an extractor and I need someone to run point for me.." The woman's voice had a thick accent.
"I see. Can you give me any details about the job beforehand?" Arthur asked and ignored how smug Eames looked on the couch.
"I would rather not. You are in New York City, correct?" Lizzy asked. "Never mind, you weren't going to tell me, anyway. How fast can you get to Philadelphia?"
"Depends on traffic but within the next three hours easy," Arthur replied.
"Excellent," Lizzy said. "Let me know when you are close and I will let you know where to meet up."
"See you in a few hours then."
"Told you they would call," Eames said from the couch. "Where are we headed?"
"Philadelphia, as soon as we can get there," Arthur replied. "I assume she'll be calling you soon to tell you the exact same thing she just told me."
"One car then?" Eames asked.
"Probably; let's get our stuff together," he said and the two of them went about collecting their things to go down to Philadelphia for the day. Arthur spent a little time finding out who Lizzy was. The rumor mill labeled her a decent extractor with a quick mind. She seemed legitimate. Eames drove himself home and Arthur picked him up an hour later. The ride down to the city was supposed to be around two hours but they were driving during the beginning of rush hour so there was traffic. Since they were the only ones in the car they were able to talk freely about work. Eames was getting better with his forges by the day and Arthur was finding new and interesting ways of finding information. When they were thirty minutes out Arthur called Lizzy back and she gave him directions to a small cafe downtown. It was nearly seven at night when they arrived and Lizzy was waiting for them. She was a young woman, maybe twenty-five, with long dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes. She raised an eyebrow when they got out of the same car.
"Clearly there is something I don't know," she said. "I didn't know you two knew each other."
"For quite some time actually," Arthur said and they all shook hands. She led them into the cafe where she ordered coffee for all of them and passed Arthur a file.
"It's fairly standard and should not be a problem. I have someone coming in for design as well," Lizzy said as Arthur looked over the papers. The mark was a judge that was becoming notorious for letting off people that had connections to a chapter of the local gangs. Their employer was an assistant direct attorney who was employing them under the table to see if the rumors true. The payout was not as much as their previous job, $75,000 each, but it looked like the job should not be a problem.
"Looks fun," Eames said looking away from the file.
"I don't know if 'fun' was the word I was going for but okay," Lizzy said and she smiled brightly. "I'm assuming you've already done a background check on me, haven't you, Arthur?"
"I have," he said without looking up. "And I'd like to dig a little deeper before I accept this job." Arthur looked up and met her eyes. "I'm sure you understand."
"Naturally," she said waving him off. "Let me know within the next day or so. Coffee is on me, gentlemen." With those words she stood and walked out of the cafe leaving the file with them. There were no names given in the file so she seemed confident leaving the information with them. Eames waved the waiter over and ordered food for both of them as Arthur continued to look over the few notes that were on the page.
"Something bothering you?" Eames asked.
"Gang ties can be ugly. That's all," Arthur said and he closed the file. They did not mention work for the rest of the meal but Arthur saw Eames' excited smile. The forger was already excited for the job and Arthur hoped that he would be too once he was sure that Lizzy could be trusted. He was not going to let another incident like Virgil happen. They had been lucky that Lombardi knew that they had nothing to do with it and Arthur was not one to rely on luck.
Arthur did not need to do the extraction to know that Judge Shatner was letting people slide through legal loopholes but the assistant DA needed something more than what Arthur could find. He needed hard evidence of the judge's dirty deals. He seemed to think that they could extract some sort of evidence that he could find in the waking world. No matter how he looked at it Arthur did not like this job. The gang was even more violent than he had thought and they were walking a dangerous line working for the police. He did not like it and he wanted to back out but he kept his thoughts to himself. Whenever he mentioned that the job was much more dangerous than he had thought Lizzy or Eames or Noah, the architect, just said that they needed to be careful.
"This job is bothering you," Eames said one night two months into the job. They were lying in the same bed as Eames looked over the file of the assistant that he was going forge.
"Yes," Arthur said as he stared at the ceiling. He had closed his laptop for the night and he was trying to come up with a way to hide their tracks even better than before.
"He doesn't even know about dreaming so we should be able to go right into his head without any problems. In and out, quick job, and we're seventy-five grand richer," the forger said but Arthur did not reply. He did not feel safe despite the number of times he had made sure that they were not being followed or that anyone had noticed them. Eames was being subtle with the secretary and she did not seem suspicious. Shatner was not acting any differently either and as far as Arthur could tell there were no whispers in the gang underground. That did not ease the tension in his shoulders and he really wanted to back out.
"Let's just get this done quickly," Arthur said. Eames hummed in agreement and Arthur closed his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of Eames turning pages.
They snatched Shatner while he was at the dentist. He was undergoing surgery for a root canal and was in recovery. All it took was the flash of a few hundred dollar bills and they were alone in a room with the man. There were no windows and Lizzy took her time locking the door. Arthur set up the PASIV device and adjusted the solutions. Noah smiled down at him; the man was young, barely eighteen, and wet behind the ears. Arthur rather liked his dry sense of humor and the way he seemed to enjoy twisting things in dreams even more than usual.
"You good to go, Arthur?" Noah asked because Arthur was the dreamer again. Eames was going to be too busy forging and Lizzy was extracting so it made sense. He had a feeling that this was going to be a pattern.
"Yes," he replied. The rest of the team nodded and Arthur tried to clear his head because the last thing he needed was for the dream to be unstable because he was tense. Noah nodded, pushed the button and the entire world faded away.
Eames opened his eyes and looked around. The dream was a twisted version of a court house and Shatner's projections were all over. He stood still for a moment to see how they reacted but they seem stable enough. He wandered through the dream and found the room where he was meeting Arthur and Lizzy. Eames was a little worried about Arthur who could not seem to sit still. He was not just double checking his research, he was triple checking and more, because something was setting his nerves on edge. He could see it in the way the point man held his shoulders but Eames just assured him that they were going to be all right. Arthur was the best at making people vanish and that was the only thing that could go wrong. Noah and Lizzy were not going turn them in to Shatner like Virgil had done. Word had gotten around about the extractor's death and Lizzy had mentioned that he was dumb for doing it at all. She was just thankful the rest of his team had not gotten pulled under even if no one knew who they were. Eames agreed.
"Come in," Lizzy said opening the door. Arthur was leaning against the wall looking deep in thought. Just by looking at him Eames knew that the other man had at least three guns on his person at the moment and that was just what he knew to look for.
"Things seem stable enough," Arthur said. "We have two hours here and the job should take that long. I can kick you both out if we get done early."
"We really need to find a way of doing that without shooting ourselves in the head," Eames mused.
"Right," Lizzy said. "Eames you go in as Mary and introduce me as a new intern. I'll mention all of the gang ties and he'll project it into the evidence lockers near the court room."
"Yes, ma'am," Eames said.
"I'll cover you and draw fire if I need to," Arthur said. Lizzy nodded and Eames shifted into the skin of Mary. She was an older woman in her forties who had blind loyalty for Shatner. She was idealistic and naïve even for someone who had been working within law enforcement as long as she had. Eames felt himself fade away just enough that he was still connected but also enough that Mary was dominant. He walked with Lizzy into the court house and they did their best to stay out of sight. Arthur was nearby because Eames noticed people looking in the same direction. He did not want Arthur to have to kick himself out again because there was nothing that got to anyone more than shooting themselves in the head.
"Judge Shatner?" he asked knocking on the judge's door.
"Come in, Mary," the man's voice said from inside and he walked in with Lizzy. The judge immediately looked apprehensive. "And who are you, young lady?"
"The new intern I told you about," Eames said and he watched a flicker as if Shatner was trying to remember. The dream filled in the gaps.
"Yes, of course," he said and he offered Lizzy a hand. "Nice to meet you, Miss?"
"Elizabeth," Lizzy replied with a smile.
"Charmed, do you just want to sit in and take notes?" Shatner asked and she nodded. "Very well, let's get to work then." This was the part of the job that Eames found very boring because they needed to get Shatner to relax around Lizzy enough that she could bring up the gang issue. So they talked business for a while and Eames went through all of the information he had had to memorize before going under. He was fairly sure he could pass as a lawyer with all of the books and reports he had had to read. The forger flicked a look at the clock, forty-five minutes until the dream ended, and it was time for Lizzy to do her job.
"I have a question," she said when there was a break in the conversation. "What are we doing about the gang issues?"
"What do you mean?" Shatner asked tensing up.
"I just noticed that a lot of them seem to get off on bail," Lizzy said as if it puzzled her. "We must not be finding enough good information to hold them."
"Sometimes evidence falls through the cracks," Shatner said and he sounded like he was getting angry.
"We should really keep it in a safer place," she said and the seed was planted.
"Right, well, ladies, I think that is enough for today. I have things I need to look over," Shatner said standing. "It was nice to meet you, Elizabeth. You have a sharp mind; you'll do well in this business."
"Thank you, sir," Lizzy said beaming.
"I will be filing if you need me, sir," Eames said and he walked out of the office with Lizzy. The two of them walked through the court house toward the holding cells. So far everything seemed a little tenser but no one was staring at them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arthur watching them with hard eyes. He joined them and as soon as they got to the holding cells Arthur started doing what he did best. He silently and easily took out the three guards in the area and closed the door.
"Get the information. I will hold them off," Arthur said but Eames slipped into his own skin.
"I'll help, are you good to go, Lizzy?" he asked and the extractor nodded.
"I'll let you know when I have the information," she said and Lizzy vanished into the holding offices. There was a small window in the door and they could see all the projections looking at the door as they passed. Eames narrowed his eyes when he saw a projection of someone he had seen before. The man was Spanish in descent, dressed all in black with dark eyes. He was looking directly at the door without moving unlike the rest of the projections.
"Shit," Arthur said.
"Who is that?" Eames asked.
"Louis, a hit man for the gang. Looks like Shatner decided to deal with Lizzy in the most direct way possible," the point man said as the projection walked toward the door with intent. Eames moved off to the side away from the door when the handle moved.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for a woman named Elizabeth, can you let me in?" the projection asked. They remained silent and the door shook a little harder though now he could hear the projections moving outside. It was beginning to shake and Arthur wasted no time turning it into stainless steel. Eames raised an eyebrow.
"They are already on to us so there's no point in being subtle," Arthur said and they heard the first gunshot hit the door.
"How long?" Eames asked keeping his gun pointed at the door as Arthur checked his watch.
"Five minutes," he replied. "Let's go further in." They walked away from the main door and the now constant gun fire, closing doors behind them. Arthur led them through the maze and passed the bodies of several projections as they went. Eames took down several as well without hesitation until they found Lizzy. She was sitting in front of an evidence locker staring at a folder in front of her. "Do you have it?"
"Yes, I have it, how much time?" she asked and Arthur checked his watch.
"Two minutes," he said just as they heard the sound of a door being kicked open. Eames shut the door to the evidence room and locked it. Projections were running toward them, he could hear the stampede of their footsteps, and he chewed on his lip as he waited. He really did not want to take the ugly way out of the dream. Just as they heard the sound of bodies slamming into the door the dream began to fade.
Eames opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Lizzy was scribbling notes into a notebook as Noah and Arthur packed up the PASIV device. He grinned to himself when he realized just how smoothly the job had gone. Despite that, the tension in Arthur's shoulders had not gone away though Eames decided that it probably would not until they were well on their way to New York. Lizzy tossed a few more bills at the orderly as they walked out of the recovery room. They all climbed into different cars and Eames tapped on the steering wheel of his rental the entire way back to the warehouse where they had set up camp. It was time to do the cleaning up and then he would be heading back to New York with Arthur. He decided that it was time the two of them did some traveling. They had each seen a few places in their time in the army but never as tourists. He expected Arthur to roll his eyes but agree with that smile on his face. Eames would be lying through his teeth if he said he was not looking forward to it.
Eames parked his rental a few blocks from the warehouse and walked the rest of the way. When he opened the door the others were already there. Lizzy was on the phone talking to the DA that did not want to associate with them and Arthur was looking over her notes with creased eyebrows.
"Trying to get on the extraction gig?" he asked. Arthur did not say anything, he just shook his head and kept reading. While they had not done this many times Arthur had always acted as if the extracted information was something only the extractor should know. Apparently he had changed his mind and Eames shrugged as he cleaned off his desk. Noah was in the middle of tearing his model apart piece by piece and having a little too much fun doing it. Lizzy thanked whoever was on the phone and hung up with a smile on her face.
"Gentlemen, we have success. I've had the money moved to each of your accounts and it has been a pleasure working with all of you," she said and Lizzy seemed a little too giddy. Eames did not know if this was typical for an extractor but decided that he was running on adrenaline as well. "Safe travels home." They finished cleaning and Arthur burned all of the papers that they had including the information they had extracted. Noah and Lizzy both left but Eames wrapped his arms around Arthur from behind.
"Shall we get going?" he asked but Arthur did not react.
"We should take separate cars back," he said. "I can repay you for the rental if you want but seeing that projection of Louis is not good. If he was a projection then that means that Shatner trusts him and knows him well."
"Would you feel safer if we did that?" Eames asked and the other man turned around so they were close. Arthur kissed him very gently before pulling away and resting his forehead on Eames' shoulder.
"Yes, I would," he replied.
"I'll see you in New York then," Eames said and they broke apart. Arthur was at a different hotel this room and Eames watched him drive away from the warehouse. The forger walked toward his rental as the sun was just starting to go down. His mind was wandering, thinking about where they would travel first, so he did not see someone moving toward him until they shoved him into the alleyway. They landed a sharp punch to his stomach but Eames managed to connect his fist with his attacker's jaw. He moved back to put some distance between them and his eyes widened when he saw Louis, the hit man, smiling at him like a shark. Eames had a gun on him but it was on his ankle and this guy was fast. He needed to get Louis several steps back and gasping for breath before he could get it. The hit man did not give him much time to think as he surged forward. Eames blocked a punch, swiftly moved out of the way of a kick but the other man was still faster than anyone he had met. Probably even faster than Arthur. He knocked the wind out of Eames and the forger felt a sharp sting in his neck. The hit man grinned and ripped the needle out. It took almost no time for his vision to blacken and he was out before his body hit the ground.
Eames blinked a few times and tried to clear the haze from his mind. His first thought was that Arthur had had every reason to be worried about repercussions in the real world. His second thought was 'where is Arthur?' He pushed himself to a sitting position and looked around. Noah was curled up in a ball in a corner and there was no sign of Lizzy. From where he was sitting there was a considerable amount of blood on the young architect's shirt, far too much to be his own, and Eames could take a good guess about the state of his former extractor. Noah must have heard him wake up because he looked up, his young eyes wide.
"Eames," he breathed. "You're not dead."
"No, are you all right?" the forger asked and he was not surprised when Noah shook his head many times. "What happened?"
"I was on my way to the airport when they got me," Noah said and his voice shook. "They already had Lizzy and they were screaming at her to tell them what she extracted from Shatner and who she gave the information to. She wouldn't talk because the DA could turn the extraction back on us. They told her that she had to answer or they were going to kill her and-" his voice cracked. "I was right there and they put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger. So much blood."
"Do they have Arthur?" Eames asked because that was really all he cared about right now. Noah shook his head but that did not ease his worries. "How did they find us?"
"Shatner is a lucid dreamer. He told Louis about the extraction and he found us," Noah said hugging himself tightly. "No one knew, Shatner hadn't told anyone, so there was no way we could have known. When he woke up he threatened the orderly and he told him which direction we left in." The 'but Arthur should have found it' was unspoken but Eames could hear it anyway. There was no way to find something that no one else knew but Noah was young and terrified. Eames was trying to come up with some form of comfort when the door opened and revealed Louis. Eames got to his feet but Noah remained on the floor looking afraid.
"Gentlemen, I believe you know why we're here," he said. "Now, this can end well for everyone if you tell us what you took from us. Tell us who else knows the information and you can both walk away without any problems."
"You want our fourth?" Eames asked and the hit man smiled and nodded. "The only person who knew anything was the extractor so the fourth doesn't have anything to do with it."
"That's a shame. I suppose that means we have no use for you," Louis said pulling out a gun. Eames would rather die than feed Arthur to these dogs. His friend would no doubt blame himself for Eames' death but he was not going let Arthur die so he could live.
"No, wait," Noah said scrambling to his feet. "The point, Arthur, he read all of the information before we burned it. He knows what we extracted." Eames wanted to hit the little kid but he really could not blame him. He was young, he was scared and he did not want to die.
"That's interesting," Louis said looking pensive. "Where is this Arthur? We tried to find him but he covered his tracks very well."
"I don't know where he is," Noah said in a quiet voice but Louis clicked the safety off his gun training it on the architect. "I don't know where he is but Eames does. They're friends, they've worked together before, they've known each other for a long time," Noah blurted and now Eames wanted to kill the little bugger.
"Is this true, Mr. Eames?" Louis asked watching him and while he knew it was the wrong time Eames really hated when someone who was not Arthur called him that. He did not respond, he just stared at the hit man, who took his silence as an answer. Two men came over and restrained Eames despite how hard he fought. The gun moved from him to Noah. "Young man, you've been very helpful, thank you." For half a moment Noah looked like he was going ask if he could leave when Louis shot him in the stomach. The architect looked at the wound on his stomach as it blossomed and crumbled to the floor. Eames winced despite himself because it was going to take fifteen minutes or more for the kid to bleed out. Louis walked over, Noah's blood splashed on his coat, and pistol whipped Eames so hard that the entire world went black.
Eames blinked awake and was not surprised to find himself tied to a chair. He was the only one who knew where Arthur was and Arthur was the one who knew the information and where it had gone. He did not want to think about what these men would do if they found Arthur. Lizzy had not broken and neither would Arthur. The point man had mentioned that he had been trained to withstand torture when he went into intelligence but that did not mean he wanted to see Arthur go through that. They left him alone for what felt like hours and Eames was having trouble feeling his fingers through his bindings. He flexed them the best he could to keep the blood flowing but there was only so much he could do.
When the door finally opened he was not surprised to see Louis walking in but Eames was surprised to see him alone. There were no sharp instruments in his hands and no indication that he was going to be tortured, just the hit man walking in and sitting in the chair opposite of him. They stared at each other and Eames knew that he had an excellent poker face but he could not get a reading from Louis either.
"The DA you extracted the information for is dead," he said.
"I see, so why do you need me if you know that the information is safe?" Eames asked trying to sound reasonable.
"Because your friend has that information and could use it against us," Louis said.
"Arthur isn't stupid enough to blackmail anyone for any reason," Eames replied but Louis flashed that same empty smile.
"Perhaps but that isn't a risk we're willing to take. The DA passed the information on to his boss already so it's still out there. Our friend Shatner is being thrown in a cell as speak. So, yes, the man who employed you is dead but the information still got out. That DA knows how they went about getting that information and has descriptions of all of you. You see where I'm going with this."
"We either give you the information and have the federal government on our asses or we don't tell you and end up at the bottom of a river," Eames replied. "Either way we die so why would I give you Arthur?"
"Do you really think he's safe?" Louis asked and Eames smirked. "You seem to have confidence in his ability to disappear."
"He got away from you, didn't he? I know Arthur is safe and you can be damned sure that I'm not telling you where he is," Eames said.
"I'm assuming saying that I'll let you live will not sway you," the hit man said leaning back in his chair looking all too relaxed.
"Like you did with Noah? Shooting a kid in the stomach and letting him bleed out didn't exactly paint a good picture of you," Eames said lowering his voice. He was angry because there were some lines that just were not crossed but shooting a naïve kid with the intention of letting him die slowly was over that line. Killing this asshole, shooting him and letting him bleed out, he had no problems with. There was the sound of movement outside the door and Louis' eyes flicked to it for only a moment but there was something in that look that made the hairs on the back of Eames' neck stand on end; something was not right.
"I assure you that it's only a matter of time before we find your dear friend so it would save us a lot of trouble if you just tell us where he is," Louis said.
"Forget it," Eames replied and there was the sound of movement again. Now that blank demeanor the hit man had faltered just a little.
"Nowhere he goes is safe because we will find him and when we do we'll just use you as a bargaining chip," Louis said and Eames felt his blood run cold. He had not thought of that, neither of them had, that someone would use one of them as leverage against the other. Eames did not honestly know if Arthur would be smart enough to just let him die and he was even more unsure if he could just let Arthur die if he was in the other man's position. "I see that got my point across."
"You aren't going to get what you want," Eames repeated. "Not out of me and certainly not out of him."
"Because he's safe," Louis said.
"Yes, why do you keep saying that? He is, I know he is, and it isn't going to work," he said but the hit man was already on his feet. There was the sound of moving feet behind the door as Louis walked up to him, gun in hand, and he smiled.
"Don't worry, Mr. Eames, it already has," Louis said and he once again hit Eames so hard that he saw the stars of the night before everything went black.
Eames blinked awake for the third time and groaned when he rolled onto his back. He was out of the chair but back on the floor. His wrists were aching and he started to rub the rope marks when he froze; there were no marks on his wrists. There was one deep cut across his temple from the gun, not two, and when he rolled his sleeve up there was another fresh puncture mark from a needle right next to the one from the job. Suddenly, he was panicking. It was a dream, what had just happened was a dream, and the reason that Louis had kept repeating the word 'safe' was because he was extracting Arthur's location. Eames had put the information in a safe that they had broken into and now they were on their way to find his friend.
The rage that settled in came out of nowhere and the forger pushed it all away to let in pure intent. The next time the door opened he cracked the guard across the temple and slammed his head into a door. He was in an old apartment building and he could hear people moving around. Eames knelt down and found that the guard was armed with only a taser because they had wanted him alive. He took the taser and slowly made his way through the building. He guessed that most of the men were out on their way to get Arthur and they had not thought he would be a problem now. The third guard he found had a gun and he found a woman sitting in a room looking over a PASIV. She looked up at him indifferently and tilted her head as if she was confused.
"I was wondering when you were going to escape," she said. "I've been in your head; I knew it was only a matter of time."
"You're a forger," Eames said and she smiled.
"Yes, like you, but I'm also an extractor and I must say for someone with military training you were surprisingly easy to crack. After I knocked you out all it took was a few twists of a safe to get the location of your lover." Eames bristled at the word 'lover' and she smiled. "I've been in your head and I know your secrets. They are on their way to his apartment as we speak but they have a good hour's head start. If you want to get there in time to say goodbye then you might want to hurry."
"Give me one reason not to put one between your eyes," Eames asked holding the gun up to her head and she looked amused.
"They are going to break him apart and make sure he knows that it's because you weren't strong enough," she smiled at him. "Run along then." Eames stared at this woman, this extractor and a forger like himself, and saw no regret in her eyes. There was no fear, no hesitation and her smile was dead. She knew about him and Arthur, she knew the location of their safe houses, she knew everything about them and he could not let her live. Eames pulled the trigger without flinching.
He killed two more men before he managed to get outside. From there he stole a car and drove to the nearest town trying not to break too many speeding laws. He was in a stolen car with blood on his hands but Eames could not get the idea of Arthur dying out of his head. Eames stopped at the first payphone he found and called Arthur's number. He was about to rant and tell Arthur to run, to get away, to disappear but a sick feeling hit his stomach when the operator told him that the line was disconnected. Eames got in the car and drove back to New York as fast as he could.
Eames managed to clear his head on the way back to the city and realized that he could be leading them to Arthur. For all he knew they had no idea where he was and they were waiting for him to take him straight to Arthur's door. Eames clenched the wheel of the car hard enough that his knuckles turned white because there was nothing he could do. If he went to Arthur he might cause more trouble but if he did not then there was the chance that he could not save his friend. The thought of Arthur dying made something clench in his stomach. It was a feeling that he had not felt since his time in the service when there was a chance that one of his squad mates was missing and could be dead. The man had been his best friend in the squad and his death had torn something apart in Eames. It was the same feeling only so much worse.
In the end he realized that all he could do was wait. If Arthur got away they would meet up but if he went in guns blazing they would either get used as leverage against each other or get each other killed. Eames could hear his teeth grinding together as he clenched his teeth hard as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. The forger gathered all of his fire arms and set up camp next to his cell phone waiting for some sort of contact. He kept his eyes on the door with a gun in hand ready to fire at the slightest movement. The hours passed and there was still no word. Against his own will Eames drifted off to sleep.
The sound of movement jerked him awake but no one came to the door. In the end he dismissed it as his neighbors moving around next door. Eames glanced at the clock and chewed on his lower lip; roughly six hours since he had had Arthur's location extracted from him and another two at least for Louis and his men to get there. For all he knew Arthur could be dead now from four hours of torture and he was napping on the couch. At the same time he thought about Louis sitting outside, watching, waiting for him to give in and go to Arthur's apartment effectively throwing him to the sharks without meaning to. Eames was not sure which one terrified him more. All he knew was that he was slowly going out of his mind trying to figure out what to do next.
Eames sat back and tried to figure out what Arthur would do in this situation. He decided that he would try to find information without being direct about it. Eames had imagination but methods for getting information were not his strong suit. He sat and thought it over many times until he decided that calling Arthur's building was probably the only thing he could really come up with. If there was some sort of shoot out the apartment manager would mention it. Eames was in the middle of trying to find the extremely private number of the apartment when he accidentally turned the television on. The news was on and he was only half listening.
"An apartment on the north side of the city is the scene of a murder," a reporter said which made Eames freeze in place. A picture of Arthur's building flashed by and it felt like someone had dropped a pound of lead into his stomach. "Police were called to the scene to find that a violent attack had taken place. A single body was found, a man named Charles Orwalle, but there was evidence of at least three other people. The owner of the apartment is missing." Eames was not sure if he was relieved or even more worried because it was obvious that something had happened. Charles Orwalle's mug shot flashed on the screen, and Eames recognized one of the men who had been in the room when Louis shot Noah. Either Arthur was being held captive somewhere or he was on the run.
Eames swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to figure out what he could possibly do next. There was only so much he could do. It was not like he had any idea where they could have possibly taken Arthur and he was not sure where to even begin to look. If Arthur was on the run there was no telling when he could show up and if he was hurt he could bleed out on the floor while Eames was out. The forger was ready to rip his hair from his scalp because there had to be something he could do, something, because no matter what Arthur was doing now he needed help.
He busied himself packing up the majority of the things from the apartment. Even if Arthur did show up they were not safe here anymore and they would need to leave the city right away. He packed his computer and a few changes of clothes. Eames was not terribly attached to the place and he would just have his landlord put the rest in storage. When they got their bearings he would move everything to a different storage unit and figure out where to go from there. That was the part that he really was not sure of. If and when Arthur showed up all he could think about was the word 'leverage.'
If nothing else it gave Eames something else to obsess over while he got all of the important things gathered. What was Arthur to him? While they had never talked about what they were to each other it was obvious from the way Arthur looked at him that he was no closer to labeling what they had either. It dawned on him that it November and he had known Arthur for almost two years now. They had been friends for a long time before they started sleeping together but the sex had not complicated anything. The word 'leverage' kept echoing back at him. If one of them got caught and the other gave up information they could have very angry employers after them. They could put other people in danger. The look in Noah's eyes as he fell to the ground haunted Eames.
Someone banged heavily on the door and Eames clutched the gun in his hand. He heard another bang as he made his way to the door. Looking through the peephole meant that someone could shoot him in the head through the door. Instead he stayed off to the side and unlocked the door slowly. Eames threw it open, the gun poised and ready to shoot as a person stumbled in. He thrust his gun into its holster in seconds as he ran to Arthur's side to help him. The point man looked like he had been through hell; his suit was dirty and bloodied, he had a black eye and he was clutching his shoulder. Eames saw blood between the man's fingers and knew that he was still bleeding. Somehow Arthur had managed to hang onto his computer bag and Eames could see the man's hard drive in the bag along with his laptop but it looked like it was weighing him down.
"Jesus, Arthur," he muttered trying to steady him.
"We need to leave," Arthur said and he sounded winded. His face was far too pale and he looked unsteady on his feet.
"Already good to go," Eames said picking up the two bags that he needed.
"Blood," Arthur rasped. "Just give it to me and I'll take care of it." The forger grabbed a can of ammonia that Arthur sprayed it on the blood he had dripped on the floor up to Eames' apartment. "They aren't that far behind me."
"All right, we'll get the fuck out of here, just hang on," Eames said trying to help Arthur through the apartment as fast as he could. They made their way down to Eames' car and wasted no time tearing out of there. The forger managed to get out of the city as fast as he could and headed toward New Jersey. He glanced at Arthur and could see that he was not doing well, that he was losing blood, and that they needed to stop so he could get him help. Eames chose a random exit and pulled into a grocery store. "Arthur, are you still with me?"
"Yes," Arthur said and at least he sounded coherent.
"I need to get something to stitch you up, are you okay to wait?" Eames asked.
"Give me a gun and get to work, Mr. Eames," Arthur said and he almost sounded insulted that Eames had asked if he was okay. Eames chose to ignore it and made his way through the checkout as fast as he could. Thankfully there was a self checkout and he was back in the car in less than five minutes. They drove for ten more minutes, got off at another exit, and Eames rented a motel room with cash. He helped Arthur through the door and wasted no time looking at the wound. It was a deep graze and judging by Arthur's color it had not happened recently. "Don't ask if I'm okay again, Eames, just bandage me up."
"Yes, sir, but you need a stitch or two," Eames said and he put on gloves. Carefully, he stitched the wound up and put a bandage on it. To Arthur's credit he did not flinch once but Eames had not expected him to. Arthur seemed to relax a little in the chair near a small desk and Eames sat on the bed nearby. "What happened?"
"I don't know. I was home for maybe two hours before that hit man showed up. We had a tussle and I managed to get away but they followed me. I was worried they'd get my phone and get to you and the rest of the team so I tossed it. They gave a hell of a chase though and I ended up having to shoot three of them before I got away. They took a chunk out of me too apparently," Arthur said and he sounded frustrated. "I don't know how they found me but I'm just glad you're okay."
"They got to me too, Arthur," Eames said. "Got to all of us actually. Shot Lizzy when she wouldn't give up the information in front of Noah. Then they shot Noah in front of me."
"I still don't know how they could have found me. The only one who knew about that apartment is me and-" Arthur cut himself off and jumped back several steps from Eames.
"No, Arthur, I didn't," Eames said and he also stood but the point man narrowed his eyes. Something inside broke at the sight of Arthur's distrust. "Not intentionally I mean."
"They extracted it from you?" Arthur asked but he made no move to close the gap between them or release the tension in his shoulders.
"Yes, they were going to snatch you and use me as leverage to get you to give up the information or yourself," Eames said. Arthur's eyes widened and Eames knew that his friend was coming to the same realization. "Noah told them that I was the one who would know where you were, that we were close, and that we'd help each other." It was a long time before Arthur sat down on the single bed and Eames sat down next to him.
"I hadn't thought of that," Arthur admitted.
"Neither had I. We could put the team in danger if we talked to save each other," Eames said heaving a sigh.
"And we know too much about each other. We could have another incident like this one and next time you or I might not be as lucky," Arthur said. There was a long silence as they both sat there in the silence of the motel room. Eames knew what they had to do, and so did Arthur, but neither of them were eager to voice it. "We have to separate."
"Yes, we do," Eames agreed without hesitation. "Close connections are too dangerous in this business."
"We have to wipe any history of us ever knowing each other," Arthur said and he sounded like he was reading facts from a text book.
"If anyone ever realized that we were ever close it would undo the point of separating," Eames said. "We have to make it look like we've never met."
"Never knew each other. Anyone who knew that we were together is dead," Arthur said.
"We're separating," Eames echoed and he did not make it a question.
"Yes," Arthur replied. They finally turned and looked at each other. Eames felt something twist in his stomach because Arthur was his best friend, his partner, the one person he had felt that he could trust for almost two years. They had to forget the bond they had shared ever existed because it was too dangerous. Eames understood that, Arthur did as well, because there was no point in lying to each other. "I should go. I have a lot of information I need to change."
"Take the car," the forger said. "I'll hot wire one and get out of here too." They both stood and Eames handed the car keys over. Their fingers touched and for a moment all he could think about was that it felt like someone he cared about was dying. Eames gave Arthur one of his shirts to wear and the point man pulled his jacket on. They walked to the door and Arthur turned around when he was outside.
"Eames," he said and it seemed like he was trying to think of something to say. Eames could not help him with that because he did not know what to say either. "I don't regret meeting you."
"Me neither," Eames replied with a smile because there was really nothing else to say. Arthur hesitated at the door for only a moment longer before turning and walking to the car. As soon as the car started Eames closed the door to the motel because he did not want to watch the car drive away.
It was nearly two years later that Arthur received a call from Dom Cobb asking if he was interested in a job. Over the last two years Arthur had established himself as one of the best point men in the business. He worked harder than anyone else and had a tunnel vision like focus on the job at hand. He picked apart plans that extractors thought were flawless and made architects look like idiots when there was a small detail off in their design. The jobs he worked were a mixture of no risk to high risk and it did not seem to bother him much either way. He rarely worked with the same people twice and kept to himself. Arthur did not speak to his co-workers outside of work and he heard whispers that some people were not even sure that 'Arthur' was his real name.
Dom Cobb, however, was someone he had worked with twice now. The man was a brilliant architect and he usually asked Arthur only to do straight research because he worked more on the legal side of dreaming. Arthur did not mind. The pay was good, and he kept his nose clean around the man. Cobb had a life outside of dreaming, someone he cared about that he refused to name, and Arthur did not dig into his past to find out who it was.
"I have an extraction job and I need someone to run point," Cobb said over the phone and Arthur raised an eyebrow despite the fact that he was alone.
"Since when do you do extractions?" he asked.
"Since someone asked me to," Cobb replied and Arthur could only guess that this was the person that Cobb 'cared about' because there really was no one else it could be.
"I see. Can you give me any details over the phone?" Arthur asked.
"I'd rather not. Come to Paris?" the other man asked.
"I'm in Italy so I'll get there as soon as possible," Arthur replied.
"Thanks, Arthur. See you soon," Cobb said sounding happy. The point man hung up the phone and stared at his computer. He was doing the same thing he did every time he did not have something to preoccupy himself with: resisting the temptation to look Eames up. It took a few days time but Arthur was able to erase any evidence that he had ever known the forger. By then he had no idea where Eames was and he decided to keep it that way. They had not worked together but he had heard whispers about a forger who was extremely picky about who he worked with. Now he was staring at his computer fighting back the impulse to track Eames down. It was a bad idea but that did not stop Arthur from being tempted.
If he was honest with himself Arthur knew that he missed Eames. Now he moved from team to team never connecting with anyone on a personal level because it was too dangerous. He had had flings here and there but none of them lasted longer than a week. Arthur liked things that were simple and his love life was the definition of simple. He stared at the computer, fingers itching to type Eames' name and see what came up, and undo everything from the past two years.
Instead Arthur opened a travel site and found the first flight to Paris.
Dom Cobb was a blond haired, extremely blue eyed man that seemed to enjoy building dreams a little more than could be deemed healthy. Cobb worked as a researcher in a privately funded lab that was using the dream technology as various forms of physical and mental therapy. He was expecting Cobb to meet him at the airport; what he was not expecting was to see the daughter of one of the most respected dream professors at his side. Cobb flashed a smile as Arthur made his way over.
"Arthur, good to see you again, this is-"
"Mallorie Miles, I know, and I'm guessing this is the person you 'care about deeply' that you've mentioned in the past," Arthur said. Cobb looked a little surprised but Mal looked thoughtful. She was a stunningly gorgeous woman with lovely gray eyes and curly brown hair. Mal had the kind of looks that made other women mentally ill and if Arthur had any interest in the fairer sex he probably would have fallen for her right there.
"Nice to meet you, Arthur. Please call me Mal," she said shaking his hand, her accent slightly faded but still there. "Dom speaks highly of your skills."
"Interesting, considering he hasn't spoken of you at all," Arthur replied. Mal threw her head back and laughed while Cobb looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole.
"Yes, well, my fiancé has a noble way of thinking he can protect me from the underworld of dream technology," Mal said smiling.
"I have a feeling introducing you is going to be bad for my health," Cobb muttered and Arthur could not help but smile. He liked Mal, he already knew that she could be trusted because he kept an eye on all of the key players in the field, and there was no indication no indication that she was dirty. Despite that Arthur insisted on sitting in the back within hands reach of his weapon.
Cobb was so head over heels for Mal it was almost sad to watch. He watched her like he worshiped the ground she walked on. He watched her like he would do anything for her and that bothered Arthur a lot more than he thought it should. There was no way Cobb would be able to keep a straight head with her around but he was surprised at how well they worked together. He felt like an outsider looking in on something no one was supposed to see. Arthur did not feel that guilty about it though because they were the ones that had called him in.
"His name is John Edwards," Cobb said after they set up shop in a small apartment building not far from the university where Cobb and Mal both worked. "We believe he has multiple personalities but does not exhibit any symptoms. The police believe he is responsible for several murders and assaults in the area. We were hired to extract evidence indicating whether or not he is guilty."
"Wait, you want to go into the head of someone with MPD?" Arthur asked. "Have you ever been in a really unstable mind before?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"It's different when you're trying to find something," Arthur said cutting Cobb off. "If you're smart you'd walk away from this now."
"One of the victims was a six year old girl and her mother," Mal said in a quiet voice. "They just want to get him off the streets. I am a very good extractor and Cobb is an outstanding architect. We need you to do the background research for us so we can go into his head as soon as possible." Arthur sat back and stared at the two of them narrowing his eyes. Over the years he had been the dreamer quite often and that meant when a mind went haywire he was the one that took the brunt of it. No matter how many times he had died Arthur always felt a little sick after wards.
"You better have a damn good plan for when we get in there," Arthur said ignoring the way both of their faces lit up. Once again he was sure he was getting himself into something much more complicated than he thought.
Mal was an excellent extractor but she was used to willing minds. Edwards' mind was not going to be willing, it was going to do everything it could to keep them away. She said she understood that but Arthur did not believe her. They worked on getting the level together first because if there was one thing Arthur wanted it was a complicated maze. He stood over the design and looked it over, his eyes narrowing as he took in each detail.
"Loop this area here," he said.
"It's your level, Arthur, I'll make it do whatever you want," Cobb replied and he made the changes on the blueprint. He was not looking forward to it being his level again but there was really nothing he could do about it. The level was still not what he wanted but he decided it was time to start putting the job together.
"The only person he has ever opened up to was his therapist when he was young before his first violent episode. We should try to bring him back to when he was younger and possibly more stable to make him comfortable. Then I can talk to him and get him to give me names of anyone he has hurt," Mal said.
"It's a start but getting him to trust us right away is going to be tricky," Arthur said narrowing his eyes as he looked at his notes. "And the suspect is being watched but not very carefully. Does anyone know about the extraction besides us and the judge?"
"No one else should but I'll double check. Are you worried about something?" Cobb asked. Arthur felt an ache in his shoulder where there was a jagged scar.
"Always," he replied. "Your plan could work, Mal, but he isn't going to trust strangers."
"You're right, we should call in a forger," she said. To Arthur's credit he made sure he did not flinch, he did not stop writing his notes, he did not do anything to hide the fact that his heart was pounding in his chest. "We've looked into several but it looks like there is one that stands out amongst the rest and I was wondering if you could do a background check on him."
Arthur did not need to ask but did anyway because he had to. "What's his name?"
"Eames and we don't know his first name," Mal said and she looked thoughtful. "Do you know him?"
"I know of him but I'll look into it," Arthur replied. She was watching him closely now but he ignored her. They broke away for the night and Arthur said that he was going to stay late. The point man ran his fingers through his hair and gritted his teeth together. It was only a matter of time before he would have to work with Eames, he knew that, but that did not make him look forward to it. Arthur finally did what he had been putting off for almost two years; he tracked Eames down.
Eames was not hard to find since he knew what he was looking for. Arthur pulled up records and got in contact with people Eames had worked with over the years. Lots of people said he was a handful but an excellent forger and more or less a professional. Arthur wanted nothing more than to tell these people that they really had no idea. Looking over the history Arthur was glad that it looked like Eames was doing well. He did not work that much but when he did it all went well. He usually stayed away from dreaming jobs and worked with art forgeries and crime in the real world. Eames had always seemed to love dreaming as much as Arthur did so he was a little confused as to why the man did not take dream jobs more often. He wondered if he could ask when Eames arrived.
Arthur was in the room when Cobb made the call and even mentioned Arthur's name when he said who was on point. If Eames reacted in a way that Cobb did not expect, he did not show it. Arthur was not surprised that he was in charge of picking the forger up from the airport. The day of the flight rolled in and he was gripping the steering wheel so tightly he could hear it strain under his strength. This was not how he wanted to see Eames, he wanted it to be in a crowded room so they could get a feel for each other, not alone in a car for twenty minutes till they reached the safe house. Arthur leaned against the car and repeated over and over to himself that he was a professional, that there was no problem, that it was just Eames.
The thought faltered when Eames walked through the airport door with a dufflebag over his shoulder. He was wearing a suit but it did not exactly match. The jacket and pants were very different shades of grey and his shirt was the same sky blue he used to wear when they were together. Arthur tried to ignore the fact that his brain had automatically said that they were 'together' when they never really were. Eames must have seen him as well because he paused for a moment staring. He finally moved forward and stopped when there was two feet between them.
"Hello, Arthur." Eames' voice sounded different, a hint of a new accent maybe, and just the sound of it made some of the tension ease from the point man's shoulders.
"Hello, Eames," Arthur replied.
Arthur was not sure how long they stood there in silence. He was not even sure what to do because they were supposed to be strangers meeting for the first time but considering their history it did not seem like something that they would fake easily. Instead the point man mentally kicked himself so they could get going because it would be easier to interact with Cobb and Mal there as well.
"Shall we?" Arthur said clearing his throat.
"We shall," Eames replied. The other man tossed his bag in the backseat and they drove off from the airport. Logically Arthur knew he should not have been this awkward because they were both professionals and that was what they had to do. He stole a quick glance at the forger and noticed that Eames looked just as uncomfortable as he felt and it was ironically comforting to know what he was not the only one having trouble processing this information. After ten minutes of dead silence Arthur could not take it anymore; he turned off the road and pulled into a parking lot.
"We need to figure this out," he said. "A blind person could see that we know each other and that this is uncomfortable."
"Agreed but what are we supposed to do?" Eames asked.
"Let me think about this for a second," the point man replied and he sat back in the driver's seat. He was trying to clear his head but could feel Eames' eyes on him.
"You're really worried about this, aren't you? Do you know these people?" Eames asked.
"I've done research for him before and I don't want to have more blood on my hands," Arthur replied and he risked a glance at Eames who was looking at him fondly; for some reason it eased some of the tension in the car. "What are you smiling about?"
"Just you, Arthur, you're completely different and still exactly the same," Eames replied. Their eyes locked and while Arthur was not the best at reading between the lines or understanding subtext for some reason he knew exactly what Eames was saying: 'I miss you.'
"You too, Eames," Arthur said and he hoped that Eames heard the 'I miss you too' that was implied. He was not sure if Eames caught it or not but Arthur did not have time to think about it too much before his phone rang. It was Cobb, predictably. "Arthur here."
"Hey, were you able to find the forger?" Cobb asked.
"Yes, just hit some traffic, we're on our way," Arthur replied.
"See you soon," and they hung up. Arthur started the car and drove to the meet up ignoring the fact that Eames was snickering the entire way there. As each mile passed more and more of the tension in the car faded. Arthur decided that it was going to be strange working with Eames again, even being around him was going to be odd, but there was no one else in the world that he worked better with. Cobb and Mal both walked outside when the car pulled up and Eames charmed both of them with a flash of a smile. The three of them went over to a table to show Eames who he would be forging while Arthur settled down on at his own desk. As Cobb and Mal were talking the forger looked up and flashed Arthur the smallest smile before focusing on the task at hand.
Arthur was not expecting it to be a problem but that did not make it any less surprising when they fell into a routine of working together like nothing had ever changed. Arthur knew that they were getting along swimmingly but to the rest of the world it looked like they did nothing but bicker. The reason they worked so well together was because they had always pushed each other further. Eames would harp on Arthur to find more details about his forges and Arthur would yell at Eames to make sure that he had all of his bases covered. Cobb was too preoccupied by his level and Mal to notice that they always fought like that but Arthur caught Mal shaking her head at them like they were children. At the same time he sometimes thought that he saw her looking at them with that thoughtful expression that Arthur could not understand.
"Do you want to come to dinner?" Mal asked one night five weeks into the job. Arthur looked up from his notes and blinked.
"Oh, no, I'm fine," he replied flashing a smile.
"Get some sleep tonight, Arthur," Cobb said taking Mal's hand and the two of them walked out of the apartment together. The point man stared at the door for a moment before turning his focus back to his notes. The work place was silent for several hours until the sound of the door opening made Arthur look up again. He was not surprised it was Eames but that did not make him any less thrilled about being alone with the forger. Since their meet up five weeks ago Arthur had made it a point to not be alone with Eames. Just being around him again made the point man realize just how much he missed having a friend in this business.
"If I ask you to dream with me would you believe I don't have ulterior motives?" Eames asked with a grin.
"Probably not but you wouldn't ask me if you didn't need my help," Arthur said smiling. Arthur stood and set up the PASIV device as Eames set up the chairs. The point man reasoned that they should probably have a real conversation and the dream was probably the safest place they could have one. Arthur set the timer for five minutes and they went under.
Arthur was a little surprised to find himself in a blank dream. He had been expecting something else from Eames but they were standing in an empty room, just the two of them. There was a single mirror and from where he was standing Arthur could see the other man watching him in the reflection. Neither of them said a word as Eames shifted into the body of the therapist. This was a business dream, that was obvious, but it was also the closest they had been to being 'alone' in two years. Alone with the person with whom he had had the most intense physical relationship of his entire life.
"How does it look?" Eames asked in the voice of the therapist.
"Looks good. Do you think you can get Edwards to trust you?" Arthur replied.
"You know I can," Eames said with a smirk that was very much his own.
"I do know," Arthur said honestly and he watched that smirk fade. He watched the forge fade and he did nothing when Eames turned and walked into his space. Their bodies were flush against each other and Arthur was not sure when he put a vise like grip on the other man's arms. "This is a bad idea."
"Terrible idea," Eames agreed.
"Can't have connections in this business," Arthur said and he was not sure who he was trying to convince anymore.
"Better to stay co-workers," Eames said but their lips brushed when they talked. "Co-workers can fuck though."
"We're not just any co-workers and you know it," the point man said but they kissed anyway. It was like no time had passed, like they had never stopped doing this, they still pushed and pulled and fought to dominate the other with tongues and teeth. Arthur wanted Eames more than anything at that moment, wanted to form a bed in the dream and throw the other man onto it, but a big part of his brain kept reminding him what a big mistake this was and Eames must have felt it too because they both pulled away breathing hard.
"We're not just co-workers," Eames said and Arthur did not flinch when the forger put a gun to his head and kicked him back to the real world.
They were in the final planning stages and Arthur felt like he really had come to terms with the fact that he was never going to have a friend like Eames again. It was something that made getting through the workday almost easier because he was not pining for something he wanted anymore because it was something he could not have. That was okay because it was for the best. He knew that, Eames knew that, and like most things between them it was understood without words. They did not talk about the dream.
He was in the middle of drawing up a plan to kidnap Edwards when Mal walked over to join him. She looked over his shoulder and tilted her head at his notes.
"A break and enter, Arthur?" she asked.
"I know it goes against your moral code but Eames and I can do the actual breaking and entering part if you'd like," Arthur said. "We just have to hope he sleeps through the break in until I can sedate him."
"And if he wakes up?" she asked.
"That's where military training comes in handy," the point man replied and he noticed her staring at Cobb with a loving look in her eye. The two of them working together did not make any sense to him, it was a puzzle that he could not put together and he did not understand why she was willing to put so much at risk. "Can I ask you a personal question?"
"You can certainly try," Mal replied with a smile that could melt ice.
"Aren't you worried about your relationship with Cobb getting used against you?" he asked.
"You mean like blackmail?"
"Just things like that in general. The risks of having your feelings for someone used against you, doesn't that scare you?" Arthur said.
"It does," Mal admitted looking a little sad. "At the same time we are in a business where all inhibitions are thrown to the wind. We are never more vulnerable than when we are dreaming. You need someone you can trust in this world, Arthur, you need someone you can depend on. Yes, Dom and I know the risks of being together in this business, but we also know that having someone we can trust completely with us at all times is much better. You were in the army, Arthur, you know that having someone watching your back is the greatest comfort of all." She touched his cheek fondly and smiled. "It's very easy to get lost in the dreams, you know that, and having someone you can depend on to help pull you out is invaluable. Don't forget that." Mal kissed his cheek and walked over to Cobb. Arthur blinked a few times, as if to clear his vision, and met Eames' eyes from across the room but said nothing.
Eames easily picked the lock to Edwards' apartment. The man had stayed up for several days in a row and had finally fallen asleep for the first time. Arthur knelt in front of the PASIV device and adjusted the levels for everyone. Cobb had insisted that he come down with them and that the intern in the other room would monitor the system. He was determined not to let Mal go into Edwards' mind alone despite how much she protested. They were holding hands as they all lay down to go into the dream. The point man noticed that Cobb was armed, which was not entirely surprising, but he wished they had discussed that beforehand. There was no time now. Arthur locked eyes with Eames, the forger nodded, and he pushed the button sending them all into the mind of a sociopath.
Eames blinked awake into the first level of the dream. Cobb had designed the therapist's office with infinite loops all around. The way Arthur rolled his eyes said that he was the one that normally got stuck being the dreamer. Eames wished he could take that burden off of the other man but he had to focus on his forge. If he was going into the dream as backup or an extractor it would be one thing but it was too risky to have the forger as the dreamer. So there Arthur was being the center of the projections' attention yet again. These projections were agitated from the beginning and Eames waited to see if they would attack right away. When it looked like they were all right for the time being the forger started to make his way through the people to find the office where he was meeting Mal, Cobb and Arthur.
When he reached the office, Eames knocked twice and the door opened. Arthur looked nervous but Eames could not blame him. Unstable minds always got creative when it came to tearing dreamers apart. To anyone else Arthur would appear completely blank but Eames knew the other man almost as well as he knew himself; he knew when Arthur was on edge. The forger walked past the point man into the room and listened to the door lock behind him. Mal and Cobb were already there and she flashed him a smile.
"Are you ready?" Mal asked and he noted that the two of them looked far too relaxed considering the mind that they were in.
"Naturally," Eames replied trying to sound casual. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arthur narrow his eyes, no doubt seeing how Eames was trying to lighten the mood, but did not say anything.
"He should project onto a file that I'll have outside the room. All you need to do is get him to think about the people he might have killed and we'll be out," Mal said.
"How are we kicking ourselves out?" Cobb asked and there was a brief silence.
"I'll do it," Arthur said though he did not sound thrilled. Eames wondered how many times Arthur had had to kick himself out of dreams because no one else would do it.
"We're set. Let's get this done," Cobb said. Eames walked over to the mirror they had set up in the room and looked at his body. He had watched the therapist in the real world, caught on to his mannerisms, and made sure that his face was spot on. Edwards would not open up to anyone else. The dream shifted a little, the projections feeling the forge, but did not attack. The four of them walked through the building and found Edwards sitting on a couch in the waiting room. Arthur led Eames through the maze until they got to the office. The forger had long since lost his way through the maze but Arthur seemed confident.
"Be careful," Eames said in a low voice.
"You too," Arthur replied. The point man walked out into the hallway to keep on the move in case the projections caught on. Mal knew the layout, to an extent, and she was playing the part of receptionist to take Edwards to the office. The door opened and he was greeted by the young man who could be responsible for taking the life of a child. It took some self control not to flinch when they shook hands.
"John, it's so good to see you again," Eames said through the mouth of Dr. James Phillips. Edwards smiled but it looked uneasy.
"Landlord said he would kick me out if I didn't get my temper under control," Edwards said and this was the lie they had made the landlord say. All it had taken was a quick bribe but the landlord only hoped that they could get Edwards the help he so desperately needed.
"I'm glad you feel comfortable coming to see me again," Eames said and they took a seat in the office. "Why don't you tell me about your anger spells?"
"They haven't changed much since I was a kid. It's like a black out and I'm not really seeing it through my own eyes," Edwards replied. "I hear things."
"Voices?" Eames said writing a few notes down. There was a chance he could project onto the pad and not the file.
"Sort of," Edwards mumbled.
"You've been arrested a few times since we've met last," the forger said and he watched the way Edwards tensed. "Why don't you tell me about that?"
"It's not important," he said quickly.
"It is important. Let's take a look at it together?" Eames suggested and he put a call into Mal to have her bring the file. Edwards was looking terrified, angry, and the projections were getting extremely restless. Mal knocked on the door and Eames stood to open it.
"It's all here, Doctor, I made sure the police sent us everything," Mal said in an easy voice but Edwards was on his feet.
"Put that file down, bitch," Edwards warned before clutching his head. "Shut up, shut up, shut up, all of you just shut up!" A full psychotic break was not something they had expected and the dream began to collapse, to change and before Eames could do anything Edwards reached into his pocket. The gun was not supposed to be there but the forger was not entire surprised that Edwards would be armed. "You don't get to look at my file." Edwards pulled the trigger putting a bullet between Mal's eyes. The projections went crazy and the man turned to Eames to attack him as well. The forger wrestled the man to the ground but the gun went off. Eames looked at the wound on his stomach, as he was slowly bleeding out, and looked up at Edwards. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" The gun was to his temple now, Edwards wincing painfully because of the chaos that was his head.
"John, don't do this," Eames said but the pain made his forge falter just a little.
"You're not my therapist. He would never want to see my record. This isn't real, another delusion, and that means killing myself doesn't matter," Edwards said and he pulled the trigger. Cobb and Arthur burst into the room, both were bloody and out of breath, and Cobb took one look at his fiancée before his eyes went wide.
"He's awake," Arthur said and he put a bullet between Cobb's eyes. Eames stared down the barrel of the gun and did not wince when the point man pulled the trigger.
Eames woke up to chaos. Edwards had turned his fury on Mal and Cobb was trying to get the man off of his fiancée. She was screaming and Eames moved quickly. The forger yanked Edwards back to put him in a headlock. Arthur was awake now and he looked far too calm as he administered a sedative to the mark. The man went limp in Eames' arms and he dropped the man to the ground none too gently. Cobb was talking to Mal, who was on the ground and shaking, not that Eames blamed her in the slightest. Arthur looked down at Edwards, then at the unconscious intern not far away and finally at the PASIV device. The machine was tipped over and it looked like several parts were broken. The forger locked eyes with Arthur and they started having a conversation without words. Arthur shook his head because now was not the time to try and figure out what their next step was.
"What happened?" Cobb demanded as he stood, glaring daggers at Eames. "I thought you were supposed to be the best forger in the world."
"I'm not one to brag but I am one of the better ones," Eames replied. "However, he saw through the mask."
"So this is your fault," Cobb said his voice laced with violent intentions; it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"I wouldn't go that-" Eames began but he shut up as Cobb pulled a gun out of his pocket pointing it directly at the forger's head. For some reason his first thought was how risky it was to carry a firearm in a jacket pocket. He raised his hands and did not move because it was obvious that Cobb was not thinking straight. "He could have killed her, you son of a bitch, and it would have been your fault." Eames was about to make an argument when there was movement behind Cobb.
"Put the gun down right the fuck now, Cobb," Arthur said and his voice was low, deadly, a tone that said 'I am very serious right now.'
"What are you doing, Arthur? Why are you protecting this asshole? He's a thief, he's probably killed someone and he almost got Mal killed. Why do you care what happens to him?" Cobb spit out but he did not lower his gun.
"I do know him, I've known him for years, far longer than I've known you, so I have no qualms blowing you away for him. So, I'll say it again, but the gun down right the fuck now," Arthur said and Eames was surprised because he had not expected Arthur to admit that they knew each other even in a moment like this. It was then that the forger noticed that Mal was standing next to Arthur with a small pistol to the point man's head.
"I think you should put the gun down, Arthur," she said. She had a black eye, her lip was split, and one of her wrists looked broken. There were three people holding guns to each other's heads and he figured that Arthur was the only one smart enough to keep the safety on, his finger off the trigger, and there was no telling if a weapon was going to discharge.
"Can I make a suggestion? How about we all put our guns down?" Eames said but Cobb glared daggers at him.
"She could have died and we didn't get the information," the extractor said in a dark voice.
"True, but you can get him on other charges now. He is obviously unstable, an idiot could see that, but now you can arrest him on assault charges, maybe even attempted murder, if you have a decent lawyer. His time in jail combined with his other charges should showcase just how unstable he is and they would institutionalize him. He'd be off the streets and isn't that what you wanted?" Eames was hoping that Cobb would see the logic behind it all. Eames knew the law better than most law students since one had to know the law if one was going to break it. This way no one would take a bullet to the brain. Cobb stared at him, squinting like he was trying to get a feel for him, and lowered his weapon slowly. Arthur did the same, Mal followed and Eames released a breath he had not known he was holding.
"Go get her medical help," Arthur said. "I'll take both of your weapons as well if you don't mind." Cobb muttered something under his breath but they both turned over their guns to the point man. Arthur took control of the situation and called 911 and decided that it was probably best if the police dealt with Edwards. "Meet me at my hotel in an hour," Arthur said and he walked quickly out of the room. Eames could only silently agree; they had plenty to discuss right now.
Eames wanted to avoid the police and Cobb because the man was as unstable as Edwards. The forger walked through the streets with his hands in his pockets and head down. Having a gun pointed at his head had not shaken him up much, he had been in the armed forces and had long since lost his fear of dying, but seeing Arthur with a gun to his head had been enough to fray Eames' nerves. It was irritating because in this business there was always the chance that they might be killed but the thought of watching Arthur die felt like a ton of lead being dropped in Eames' stomach. He turned the corner and walked up to the elevator in Arthur's hotel. He wasn't bothered that they were meeting in a hotel room. They were both professionals and they needed to keep up the ruse that they did not know each other, but that did not stop Eames from thinking about what he could do to Arthur in a comfortable hotel bed. Two knocks on the door and the point man answered.
"Come in," Arthur said and he stepped aside. He had taken off his jacket, loosened his tie and his holster was on the table, gun off to the side. Eames knew that his eyes lingered a little too long on Arthur as they walked through the suite. Arthur sat down on a couch off to the side and Eames joined him. "It seems that we have a problem."
"Yes, we do," Eames replied. "You were willing to blow our cover because someone was threatening me. And before you beat yourself up, I would have done the same thing."
"Cobb had no idea that we knew each other and we were still used against each other." Arthur ran his fingers through his hair. "What are we supposed to do?"
"I could drop out of the business," Eames said.
"What? Why would you do that?" Arthur asked bewildered.
"Because then we wouldn't be called in for the same jobs and if we don't see each other then we can't be used against each other," the forger replied. "I have plenty of work offers in the real world and I don't need to spend any more time in the dreams than I have to."
"You loved dreaming, even more so than me. Why are you avoiding it?" Arthur asked carefully and the forger wondered if Arthur was still able to tell when he was lying after two years apart.
"It wasn't the same without you. I worked with some people but they were all so dull and I never really meshed with them well. So I didn't take very many jobs, because I didn't want to get lost," Eames replied.
"You? Get lost? I don't believe that for a second," Arthur replied smiling just enough so his dimples started to show.
"I didn't have anyone to pull me back, as Mal would put it," the forger said and it was probably the most honest thing he had ever really said to the other man. The smile faded and Arthur looked down at the floor.
"Still, close relationships in this business can't end well. It's not just the danger involved; dreaming itself could easily tear someone apart," the point man said. "How are we supposed to avoid being used against each other?"
"What if we don't?" Eames suggested and Arthur looked at him. "I overheard your conversation with Mal about having a person you care about used as blackmail or leverage. She had a point if you think about it. Having someone you can trust is invaluable in a business like this."
"I know she did," Arthur replied keeping his voice low. "And next time I might not be able to stop someone from killing you. I'd never forgive myself if you died right in front of me and I didn't do anything to stop it." A long silence passed and Eames watched his friend carefully. Arthur was brilliant, competent, and more than dependable. He was everything Eames could ask for in a partner. "So what do we do?"
"Well, we could go back to pretending we're stranger but I didn't really like doing that," Eames confessed.
"I didn't either," Arthur replied smiling a little. Another long silence passed before Arthur turned and their eyes met; Eames could practically see the wheels of logic turning in his friend's head and he had that look he always got as he put a puzzle together. "I need someone I can trust in this business."
"So do I and there isn't anyone else in the world I trust more than you," Eames said finishing Arthur's line of thought. The way the point man smiled indicated that Eames was right on the money.
"However," Arthur said and for one horrible moment the forger was sure the other man was changing his mind. "I enjoyed those last few months of our partnership much more. We worked really well together when we were sleeping together and it didn't complicate things any more than they already were."
"Why, Arthur, are you saying that you can't resist my charms?" Eames said smirking because it always amused him how forward Arthur was about sex and even more so their sex life.
"You make it sound like I'm making an attempt," Arthur replied leaning in and capturing Eames' mouth in a kiss. The forger melted into the kiss as Arthur climbed into his lap. It was all tongues, teeth and pent up desire right now because it was pretty obvious that Arthur had missed this part of their relationship as much as he had. Over the last two years Eames had slept with a few men and women but nothing compared to kissing, touching, being with Arthur. They knew each other's bodies to a frankly embarrassing degree. Eames put his hands on Arthur's narrow hips and pulled them closer together because he needed to be touching every inch of him.
The phone rang, destroying the mood, and Arthur broke away, cursing in several different languages.
"Answer it," Eames said smirking. "It'll just bother you and I want your full attention." Arthur scoffed and moved off of Eames' lap. The forger grinned when he saw that Arthur had his phone on the end table next to a far too comfortable looking bed.
"Arthur here," the point man said. Eames stood and moved behind Arthur pulling the point man's body against his. Eames had a feeling it was going to get him in trouble as he started to kiss Arthur's neck and the spot behind his ears. "Yes, I understand, but you need to get your shit in order before we'll work together anymore." Eames guessed that Arthur was talking to Cobb and listening to some sort of apology. "You need me to go over a few things before we can finalize the paperwork? Isn't Edwards in jail without bail?" Eames let his hands wander a bit lower than Arthur's hips and he smirked when the point man closed his eyes. "That's not going to work for me. I'm busy until the day after tomorrow so it'll have to wait." Without waiting for a response Arthur hung up and turned around, narrowing his eyes at Eames. "That was a dirty move."
"I always did enjoy watching your concentration falter," the forger replied grinning. "And what are you going to be doing for the next day and a half that you're willing to put off work?"
"What am I going to be doing?" Arthur asked with a raised eyebrow and that wicked smile that always meant that good things were about to happen. "You, of course. We have lots of time to make up for." Eames did nothing to hide the shiver that went through his entire body. Arthur smirked and they kissed again. The forger smiled against those lips that he knew so well; they were going to be Arthur and Eames, Eames and Arthur again, a terrifying pair, and the dreaming world had no idea what it was in for.