FIC: Kiss Trick, 13/13

[the_ragnarok]

When Eames comes awake, Ariadne's crouching over him with a little frown. "Name, rank and serial number," she says.

"Eames, High Lord Forger, forty-two," he says, just to be a prick. Then he blinks and takes in the state of the room around them. "Did you actually manage to kill everyone and get rid of the bodies in five minutes? Impressive."

"Arthur mentioned you'd be an asshole about this," Ariadne says. "I should start listening to him more often."

Eames doesn't disagree with the sentiment, especially since it appears to have gotten him out of a particularly unpleasant fix. "What's our situation?" Automatically, he reaches for the gun that they took off him hours ago. Ariadne hands him another one. Eames checks to see if it's loaded and that the safety's on before standing up.

"Put that away," Ariadne says. "I only brought it because Arthur says it'll make you feel better. Don't ask me why I even cared about that."

"Your wish," Eames says and obeys. Following her out of the room, he tries to look as meek and boring as any corporate hireling, to possibly exude harmlessness.

They make it out of the building, down into the parking lot, and into Ariadne's car before Eames allows himself to think. He exhales and sags into the seat, staring at the car's ceiling.

"Sandra'll be here in a moment," Ariadne says, not unkindly. "So if you want to have a nervous breakdown, now's your chance."

In fact, Eames would very much like to have a good nervous breakdown, hopefully preceded by a good stiff drink and followed by a good night's sleep. But not here, not now, and certainly not with Ariadne for an audience. As much to distract himself as for any other reason, he asks, "Was that your doing down in the other level?"

Ariadne's eyes have that shine they get when discussing the finer technical points of dreamsharing. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Eames does. By the time he finishes, Sandra reaches the car. She slips into the back seat, leaning forward to take Ariadne's hand. "Everything's okay," Sandra says.

"Great." Ariadne squeezes her hand, then turns her attention back to Eames. "Okay. So you remember what I did with the sculpture in Bayliss' dream?" Eames nods. "It was part of something else I was working on.

"See, you can imbue dream scenery with emotion. And you can make the scenery move. Program it, if you want to think of it like that."

"Projection-crafting, yes," Eames says. "I am familiar with the concept."

Ariadne rolls her eyes. "Yes, because I'd be here telling you about stuff I've seen you do. No, this is more than that. Actually, you might want to call what I do true projection-crafting. Mine are versatile, like the puppet-controlled ones forgers make," like the ones Eames himself can make, "but they don't require an actual controller." Like the Bayliss-shade that spoke to Eames in a dream. Which is a fantastic claim, that she can make an independent entity and plant it in someone's brain, without even the benefits of an inception to make it take hold.

"I don't know if I could have done this if he didn't really want to believe," Ariadne says to his skeptic look. "But hey, you saw it yourself. You tell me it can't be done."

True enough. And still. "She wasn't what I created," Eames says slowly. "She was all – " he waggles his hand, not certain himself what he wants to communicate. "Fragile." His Alex was bone-tough, hard and worn as leather. Not that overwrought little thing.

"She was what he wanted," Ariadne says, and Eames nods slowly because he's fairly fucking sure she's right, actually.

"Okay," Sandra says. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?" And as Ariadne puts the keys in the ignition, "Also, you two owe us big time for this."

"How did you even get it?" Eames asks, and Sandra laughs and starts recounting the tale as Ariadne takes them out of there.

~~

He's not sure what he expected, walking into their apartment, but it wasn't a double armful of furious, anxious Arthur.

"You idiot," Arthur says, "you fucking goddamned stupid asshole idiot." The impression this leaves is a little less harsh than is should be, possibly, because Arthur keeps stopping to kiss him. Eames is hardly going to object to that, but it does seem a little incongruous.

"I'm sorry," Eames says, the moment Arthur gives him space to breathe. "I am well and truly fucking sorry, really I am."

Arthur opens and closes his mouth. Then he looks at the ground and says, "Okay, look, before this evening is over I'm probably going to have to apologize a number of times. So let's wait until we've sorted everything out before we figure out who's sorrier."

"Apologies don't work like that," Eames says, irritable. Then he parses what Arthur actually just said, and says, "Are you going to actually apologize for saving my – " he hastily substitutes "arse," for sanity. No point being overly melodramatic.

"Not a fucking chance," Arthur says. "But. Um. I may have done some other things."

"Arthur," Eames says apprehensively. "Does this involves bodies?" He remembers who he's speaking to, and changes tack. "How many bodies? Have you already hidden them?"

"No fucking bodies," Arthur says, adorably cross. "In case you forgot, I'm not actually a fucking amateur," and Eames can't help himself, has to go and kiss Arthur breathless. He's missed this, so bloody much, more than he can even articulate.

"Okay," Arthur says, once Eames pulls away. "Okay, look." He leads Eames to the living room, where –

She's right there, hanging on their wall. Eames keeps a distance but devours her with her eyes, the lovely lines of her, the smile that he never remembered properly.

He can see what he loved in that smile, a reluctant ecstasy that he could never quite emulate. The shawl wrapped around her, keeping her safe, hidden, bound. Keeping the darkness inside her from coming out, for better or worse. If it weren't for the smile, she'd be just like anyone, really.

Easy to understand why his young, impressionable self could fall so hard for this image, the idea he found in it. It moves him still, as he is now, hopefully years beyond that kind of adolescent sentimentality.

Then he turns around to ask, in a completely normal tone of voice thank you very much, "Arthur. Did you just steal this painting for me?"

"Yeah," Arthur says without blinking, like it's obvious he'd do that. He does look a little sheepish saying, "I broke into your computer to find out about it. Sorry for that."

Eames doesn't reply, so Arthur elaborates, "Look, obviously you wouldn't have done that if he didn't have some kind of leverage over you, right? So I broke into your emails to find out. Again, I'm really fucking sorry. But it was the only way I could think of to – " he waves his hand, frustrated. Eames captures it and kisses it.

"It's fine," Eames says, giddy. His computer and his email account are the least personal of all his belongings. He should be angry at Arthur for going through them, at least for form's sake, but in this place and time – oh, bugger it, Arthur's talking to him again, Arthur stole a painting for him, Eames can't be bothered getting mad.

He sobers quickly, though, running a careful hand along the edge of the frame. "We can't just hang her here," he says, much as he'd like to. "This is no museum."

But of course Arthur knows this. He passes Eames a card. "A friend of mine's an art dealer," he says. "He could keep her somewhere safe, for us."

For us, Eames thinks, and Arthur called the painting 'her', this in spite of the fact that Arthur looks askance at anyone who names inanimate objects with the possible exception of computers. He can't even take a step to kiss Arthur, because if he moves he feel he might burst with affection.

"How on Earth did you manage all this?" Eames asks, once he's gotten over that unfortunate episode. By this time they're sitting on the couch together, Eames' fingers thoroughly tangled in Arthur's soft hair.

"One bit at a time," Arthur murmurs, drowsy. "Fuck, I missed this. I hate going to sleep angry." He pokes Eames with his elbow, half-hearted. "You. Never be this stupid again, okay? If you'd just told me, I could've fixed all this."

And that's the root of half their problems right there, isn't it? Eames keeping things from Arthur, Arthur prying when he shouldn't. "We're going to keep doing that, aren't we," Eames says, a little sadly, to the top of Arthur's head. "Playing around in circles like that."

"Actually," Arthur says, flopping down to rest his head in Eames' lap, "I don't see why we should. I think this should teach us. You should tell me stuff, and I should trust you to. End of story."

"It's not that simple," Eames says, but he's halted by the pure diamond-hard insistence in Arthur's gaze.

"It can be," Arthur says. "No reason it shouldn't. I don't know if you realize this, but you're stuck with me for good. So we can fight and be miserable, or we can talk about shit and be happy. Those are your choices, okay?"

"I can live with that," Eames agrees, tracing a line down Arthur's stomach, curling two fingers under the hem of his shirt. "You got it for me," he says, wonderingly, "I still can believe you stole the bloody painting for me."

"Nevermind that," Arthur says, "You know what you should thank me for? Asking Sandra for a favor. Now there's something I never want to do again." He shudders dramatically.

"Why did you, then?" Eames says. Then, because Arthur's looking at him like he might have suffered brain damage after all, he says, "You never just told me not to go. You had to have known I wouldn't if you asked."

Arthur looks away, suddenly discomfited. Eames waits, patiently.

"But if I told you," Arthur says, quiet and unsure all of the sudden, "you wouldn't do it. And I could tell it was important to you, even if I didn't know why. I still don't understand, really. But that's not the question."

"What is, then?" Eames says when no more seems to be forthcoming.

"What would make you happy." Arthur says this with a quiet conviction, like it's something obvious. "I can't be happy unless you are."

Eames feels the breath catch in his throat, because yes, Arthur's exactly right. That is the answer to the question. The very same question that Eames has been asking himself for months now, without quite realizing it.

"That's what love is, isn't it?" he says, hushed.

Arthur makes a small embarrassed sound and says, "I guess," and Eames kisses him, knowing full well it's not a guess but pure hard fact.


END

Comments

[krytella.livejournal.com]

The Heinlein definition of love! Or is that a coincidence?

Anyway, really enjoyed this story all the way through. Your Eames in this verse is different and refreshing -- I think it's really interesting how attached he is to things he finds beautiful, how that plays out with Arthur and with the painting.

[the_ragnarok]

It's the definition of love I use, but it's definitely possible I took it from Heinlein and forgot. Ah, perils of reading Heinlein as a teenager.

Thank you so much! I think half this story came from looking at the first story again and thinking, "But what's in it for Eames? What does this all mean to him?" And that's basically the entire emotional arc of this.

[gloriamundi]

Ooooooh this is so lovely, the way they're learning to trust, to love.

And it is also lovely on quite another level which has to do with your intellectual creativity, and all the ways in which you're morphing dreamwork. I love the idea that a walking talking puppet-projection can be planted like a message. I love the notion of Eames controlling his own puppet-projections. Alex taking over was incredibly scary, and yes, I see that vulnerability in Eames, that sense of him only ever being scared of the stuff inside. (And, in here, of losing Arthur.)

And I do very much like the romance between them, and the compromise -- all pivoting on the 'making one another happy' point -- and the way they learn to be with one another.

Beautiful!

[the_ragnarok]

whee! worldbuilding! y'know, the emotional arc was mostly planned in advance but I ended up doing nearly all the dreamsharing bits on the fly. Alex was originally suppose to spring from Bayliss' mind all by herself, the projection-message was originally Bayliss threatening E in person, a lot of things just showed up and I just ran along w. them. :D

that sense of him only ever being scared of the stuff inside.

huh. y'know, that together with that Heinlein comment above makes me think of "Death Song of a Wood's Colt" - "I only dread the loss of you that comes when I am dead", etc. etc. I've wanted to do something w. that poem and Inception fic for MONTHS. Still not sure what.

(and thank you so much! <3)

[aliassmith.livejournal.com]

Ohhhh this is amazing, all of it, epic.

Eames would very much like to have a good nervous breakdown, hopefully preceded by a good stiff drink and followed by a good night's sleep.

But what happened to the 'good hard cuddle'? ;p

<3

[the_ragnarok]

:DDD that got removed for being TOO EFFIN' RIDICULOUS OK. :D

thank you! so glad you liked.

[anatsuno]

<3333333 OMG, basically I am all *HEARTBURST* at them.

I agree with Gloria totally on the creativity of what you did here with dreamshare; I really love fic that plays with that and I enjoyed what you invented there so much.

Eames' emotional arc is so satisfying, his personality so intriguing and lovely, ngh, I loved him before but I love him ever so much now.

You! How so awesome. *squishes you all up*

[the_ragnarok]

Squee! you're going to make me blush, honestly. <3

I sorta feel guilty that I don't do more w. dreamwork in my fics - like, that I can't really call what I do fanfic bc it's all just love stories loosely related to canon. so much fun playing w. the actual universe and it's laws!

I was SO RELIEVED that the emotional arc ended up where I wanted it to. idk if you had any idea of the EMOTIONAL BREAKDOWN I had about it before deciding to just let it get written the way it comes. I still think it could read as coming across as unbalanced, depending on who's reading, but I'm ok with that. RELATIONSHIPS ARE LIKE THAT SOMETIMES.

so yeah. thank you for all the encouragment you gave me, writing this - couldn't have finished it w/o all the support. <3

[beachlass]

Beautiful.

[the_ragnarok]

♥ thank you!

[cobweb_diamond]

SO GOOD, SO GOOD. THIS IS TRUE LOVE. And Arthur is not jealous of the painting, which I am glad of. I must reread the whole thing so I can comment more intelligently on your canon worldbuilding. HEARTS IN EYES FOREVER.

UGH MUST REC THIS TO EVERYONE.

[the_ragnarok]

<3 <3 <3 <3

TRUE LOVE. It never even occurred to me to make Arthur jealous of the painting - I don't think he understand what she means to Eames, really, even now. BUT THAT DOESN'T MATTER. SHE MAKES HIM HAPPY AND THAT'S WHAT MATTERS.

:DDD the worldbuilding's the funnest part.

thank you! so glad the last parts lived up to your exacting standards. <3

[lately]

I really enjoyed this, esp for the asexuality being integral to but not the point of the story.

Lovely work.

♥

[the_ragnarok]

hee. pretty much the entire Bayliss-plot came from me going UM OK how do I keep this from being 10K straight of Relationship Conversations. :D Thank you! Glad you enjoyed!

[airgiodslv.livejournal.com]

This is glorious. I enjoyed every moment of it, all of the twists and tricks and secrets, and I'm so glad to be able to breathe it in as a whole and enjoy it. Marvelous work.

[the_ragnarok]

<3 Thank you so much! It ended up coming together easier than I expected it to. And soon I'll have it beta'd and posted properly in one piece, which makes me Happy. Yes.

[myricarubra]

hglg;gfl I just read the last 3 chapters of Kiss Trick, and oh my god SO MANY CLIFF-HANGERS I LUCKILY MANAGED TO AVOID /RELIEVED

This is such a lovely story-- I really enjoyed it, and I really liked Eames and Arthur in this story; I loved the way they were in love, really, and everything else was delightful-- Ariadne's AWESOME NEW SKILLS, for example; that was fantastic. :D

[the_ragnarok]

<3 mind you, I did the last three sections in the SAME NIGHT because I couldn't deal w. the cliffhangers. I'M SUCH A WIMP OK.

Thank you, Effie. <3 THEY ARE SO IN LOVE OK. COMPLETELY. THEY ARE MARRIED, THEY JUST DON'T KNOW IT YET.

Ariadne's the AWESOMEST. I sorta meant to write a scene where E and Sandra are like, "you just combined architect and forger skills... plus you're a pretty decent extractor... what do you want to be?" and she's like "EVERYTHING." :D

[northern]

Lovely. Thank you for sharing it.

[the_ragnarok]

thank you! I had a blast writing it.

[shaded-sun.livejournal.com]

"You idiot," Arthur says, "you fucking goddamned stupid asshole idiot."

My grin at reading this could probably be seen from the moon. #notexaggeratingatall ;)

I was starting to quote parts of Arthur & Eames' conversation that I enjoyed, but then stopped when I realised I was pasting almost the entire thing! I just love how both of them knew that Arthur asking Eames to stay would mean he would do it, but that Arthur couldn't ever bring himself to do that without despising himself. Arthur calling the painting 'her' because she means something to Eames, even if he can't comprehend it. That is love. :D
Also: Arthur getting all embarrassed at saying ILU. :DDDD

This is wonderful, Dana. I will definitely be re-reading the whole story, this time non-stop all the way through. :) Will you consider more in this 'verse, or does it seem all wrapped up and completed to you?

[the_ragnarok]

They yell at each other to show love! *g*

Also, trufax, I get embarrassed at having the boys SAY they love each other. they feel more like the showing-through-action types. Arthur would clean your weapons and kill your enemies. Eames would see you fed and find you Items of Interest that may or may not actually belong to someone else. :D

<3 I might - there's at least one prequel I'm seriously considering writing, maybe two (one that explains Arthur's weird-ass relationship with Cobb and Mal, another just after the incident where Arthur had his sensory thing swapped around) but I don't really have any ideas for actual sequels. Open to suggestions, though! :D

Dude, thank you so much for your ongoing support. couldn't have pulled this through without your encouragement.

[shaded-sun.livejournal.com]

Worry shining through via anger. 'Tis true love. :D

Aw, that's sweet. Now I totes want a fic made of snippets of Arthur and Eames doing these things for each other. Arthur all BAMF when E's enemies threaten or actually hurt him; E cooking or just supplying fave foods to A when he's ueber-focussed on work; E as a cat-burgular/theif. All these things are ♥.

Although now I think about it, you have half of these already in this 'verse. E bringing A coffee in Allowed and A kinda saving E indirectly in KT & a backwards version of the burgulary (but sadly no actual scene). BUT THERE CAN NEVER BE ENOUGH OF THESE THINGS.


Ooh, nice. Prequels would be great. Hehe, yes Arthur's relationship with those two has intrigued me. The sensory-swap thing would be very interesting, but poor Arthur wouldn't have Eames to make everything all better again. D:

Sequel-wise? I'll have to think a little bit more about it. I love the dynamic E & A have here, so it would be a shame to not have that explored further.

*blushes* That's very sweet of you, but I just really rambled and flailed at you!

[apagon]

*hug* and I will continue to do that for the next hour or so... that's how much I love this really... beautifully written and such a compelling story with the most intricate details on theory, the painting, alex... makes so much sense eames would have a heightened love for the sensual little details as someone who is asexual... my love for this know no bounds... thank you for the brilliant read...

[the_ragnarok]

Thank you so much! I did try to write Eames as v. v. sensual, which made sense to me given, well, Eames. :D So glad you enjoyed. <3