Everything That Is Real (Comes Around)

Part Nine

            Cobb was completely prim and proper when he pulled up in front of the office. Arthur did not say a word as he climbed into the car and they started driving through the city. If Cobb had anything on his mind he did not say what it was and Arthur could not have been more thankful. He was too busy trying to come up with a good way to follow Susana around so Eames could gather her bodyguard’s mannerisms. He still had his fair share of research to do before they got any closer to the actual job and they still had to put together a profile impressive enough that Susana would show off her apartment. These were the things he needed to focus on before anything else. That and an escape route should this dinner go wrong. There was no way of knowing whether Fischer would recognize them.

            “If this goes wrong we get to the car as soon as possible. We alert everyone else and we vanish for a while,” Cobb said and Arthur nodded.

            “That means we’ll have failed the job and Walter will leak our information. The only thing we'll be able to do at that point is hope Saito makes good on his word and can truly make us disappear,” he said. He saw Cobb visibly wince.

            “I might take my chances in a courtroom,” he said in a low voice and Arthur was hardly surprised. Even if he went to prison at least his kids would know he had not abandoned them. The thought of seeing those kids hurt made a pit form in his stomach. Cobb would be behind him and so would those kids when he left. There would be no going back from breaking all ties. Cobb was probably the only one who would try and bring him back but even then he was not entirely sure. Whatever bond they had had seemed non-existent now and he was a bit thankful for that. It would make things easier when he walked away. “You said Mal confronted you before she died.”

            “Yes, she did, I'd say about a week before,” Arthur replied and kept his eyes locked outside watching the scenery.

            “What did she say?” Cobb asked.

            “She said that she couldn't understand why I didn't trust both of you. She said that this was a dream and there was no reason to be on edge. When I tried to argue that we weren't in a dream she just cupped my head with her hands and said how sorry she was for me. She was sorry that I wanted to stay in this dream when reality was so close. I left for a job the next day and the next time I heard from you was your phone call saying Mal had killed herself, they thought it was you and now you were on the run,” Arthur explained and he glanced at the extractor. Cobb’s jaw muscles were tight and he looked as if he was trying to keep something locked inside.

            “You've never really trusted me, have you?” Cobb asked after a long silence. Arthur thought about lying, he thought about avoiding the question, he thought about changing the subject.

            “No, not entirely,” he said. The rest of the drive was in complete silence. Arthur really wished Cobb had not brought this up right before their meeting with Fischer. They had to seem calm, collected, professional, and not like they were being blackmailed into this job. When they pulled up to the hotel and parked the car, Cobb straightened his clothes and rolled his shoulders. They nodded to each other before they walked into the hotel; they were right on time. When they asked about Fischer the hostess said that they were expected and guided them to the second floor of the restaurant. Sitting at a table in a black suit sipping water was Robert Fischer. The moment they met he was either going to have a strong sense of deja-vu or this would feel like a new encounter. He turned around when the hostess gave them each a seat. He looked the same as he had a year before and his eyes watched them carefully.

            “Gentlemen, I'm glad we've finally had a chance to meet; I'm Robert Fischer,” he said and extended a hand to Cobb who seemed to relax considerably.

            “Nice to meet you. I'm Dom Cobb, though you can call me Cobb, and this is Arthur,” he introduced. Arthur shook hands with Fischer and smiled though he did not relax. There was still time for Fischer to realize he had seen them before.

            “You two are hard to get a hold of. I had to hire someone just to locate one of you. I guess I just don't have the right connections,” Fischer said.

            “A man of your position shouldn't have connections in our world,” Cobb said but Arthur remained silent. He was looking for some indication Fischer knew exactly who he was hiring when he sent Walter after them.

            “Nevertheless I'm glad Walter was able to find you. Did it take much convincing for you to take this job?” Arthur narrowed his eyes.

            “You could say that; you're actually pulling me out of retirement,” Cobb said carefully.

            “I am paying well and retirement doesn't pay at all. I need the best for this job though and if you need more incentive I'm willing to pay extra,” Fischer said. He seemed to think that this was an issue about money; he had no idea about the blackmail and if he did he was exceptionally good at hiding it. Arthur also realized that Walter had neglected to say how much they would get for this job, if anything, but he had a sneaking suspicion the term 'hush money' was going to come into play.

            “That's not the issue at all, Mr. Fischer. What I do want to discuss with you are the risks you have asked us to take with this extraction,” Cobb said, getting down to business. At this point it did not matter whether they had met before in the past. Fischer's eyes darkened a bit.

            “Yes, Miss. Mitchell. I'm assuming Walter gave you the file,” he said.

            “I've double checked his information and it all seems accurate. You are asking us to go into the mind of a potentially unstable woman who is not only paranoid but physically and mentally trained,” Arthur said and he watched Fischer carefully.

            “I asked for the best for a reason.” Fischer rested his elbows on the table and looked at them. “I've done research on extraction and I've had someone teach me to protect my mind but I know how much I'm asking for. I knew there wasn't anyone else who could do this. Susana knows something, she told me she does, and even when I offered her money she refused to tell me what it is. She is a sick woman who loves watching train wrecks. That's what she thinks my company will be when she releases her information. You both are well regarded in the community. Even the few contacts I know mentioned your names along with a few others, and Walter mentioned that you all worked together on a job last year, the best of the best on one job. I wanted that team for myself. Will you do this job for me?” Arthur had to fight back a laugh at Fischer giving them a choice in the matter when they did not have one at all. Either he was toying with them or he really thought they could back out.

            “We've already started, Mr. Fischer,” Arthur said carefully. “However I'd like to ask Cobb something in private, may we be excused?”

            “Nonsense, stay where you are. I need to make a phone call,” Fischer said waving them off before snatching his phone and walking out of the room.

            “What do you think?” Cobb asked keeping his voice down.

            “If he knows about Walter's methods, he's playing a pretty sick game with us, but I really think he's in the dark. What I really think, however, is that we can use him,” Arthur said and that earned him a confused look. “We need connections to get into the hotel but also to get Eames close to Susana. If Fischer can take care of the hotel that will give Eames and I more time to focus on getting more information about that bodyguard. Maybe he can even help us with that.” Cobb was about to say something when Fischer joined them at the table.

            “Well, gentlemen, I invited you to dinner so let's order some food. I've heard this place is astounding,” he said picking up the menu.

            “Mr. Fischer,” Arthur said. “We have a few details that we are having trouble ironing out. Is there any way you could help us?” Cobb kicked his foot under the table, a clear sign to keep his mouth shut, but Arthur ignored it. Cobb might think this was a spontaneous request but Arthur had actually thought of this as soon as Fischer had not recognized them right away.

            “I'm trying to avoid getting involved in this directly,” Fischer said carefully but there was no way Arthur was backing down now.

            “It's really a simple thing. You understand that we need to construct a world for the dream?” Fisher nodded. “Well, for someone like Susana, we're going to have to be a precise as possible. The best place to try and extract information is a place where the mark feels safe, and for someone like her, there is no safer place than her own apartment. If we can get a good look at her apartment it would help immensely.” Cobb kicked his shin this time, harder, and he still ignored it.

            “I can't just walk in and take pictures of her apartment,” Fischer said and Arthur was pretty sure Cobb was going to break a bone if he kicked any harder.

            “Her hotel has a virtual tour program where special clientele can get tours of apartments without actually being in them. You need the right connections though,” he explained and Fischer seemed to think on it for a moment before he nodded.

            “That is more or less something I can do that keeps my hands clean. What do you think, Mr. Cobb?” Fischer asked and Cobb gave him his best smile.

            “Arthur is very thorough with his research, and if he says this is the best way, then it's the best way.”

            “All right, gentlemen. I will have Walter contact you as soon as I get the information,” Fischer said before his phone rang. He spoke on it briefly before he sighed and hung up. “I'm afraid I have to cut this short; I have a business matter to attend to. These things just can't seem to wait until morning. Dinner is still on me, feel free to order what you want, and I will contact you soon.” With those words he smiled at both of them, a small and cautious smile, before he turned and walked out of the room. They sat in silence for a moment before Cobb spoke up.

            “What does it take to shut you up, a crowbar to the kneecap? When were you planning on telling me that Fischer was going to get involved?” he asked and Arthur shrugged.

            “Because I didn't really consider it until he didn't react to us. It doesn't matter now; we're getting the information we need and that's all that matters.”

            “You need to start voicing these plans of yours out loud. I know you're rarely spontaneous but when you are, it tends to be at the worst possible moment,” Cobb said. They did not speak much for the rest of the meal and it felt odd to him to walk out of a restaurant without paying. Before they reached the car Cobb took his arm and held it tight. “Are you going to be all right?”

            “What exactly is that supposed to mean? I'm fine, I've been fine.. I'm just doing my job, nice and thorough like you said, or would you rather I miss something again?” Arthur said his voice coming out much harsher than he intended before he pulled his arm free. “Focus on the job at hand; I'm fine, I've been fine, and I'm going to stay fine.” Cobb watched him for a moment before they climbed into the car and rode back to their hotel in complete silence. Arthur was more than thankful for it as the wheels in his head turned trying to come up with a perfect way of gaining access to the bodyguard.

***

            It was late when someone knocked on her door. Ariadne blinked and set aside her sketchpad before she walked over and looked through the peephole. She opened the door and found Cobb standing in front of her.

            “You're back. How did it go? Did he recognize you?” she asked a little too fast but he just ran his hands through his hair.

            “Let's go to the hotel bar for a drink,” he said finally and she nodded, seeing that he wanted to be somewhere else when they talked. Ariadne slipped on her shoes and followed him down to the very modest hotel bar where Cobb ordered a whiskey sour and Ariadne ordered her cape cod. The bartender walked off and they took a seat at a table in a corner away from prying ears.

            “What's going on? You look a little pale,” she said and he loosened his tie.

            “Fischer didn't recognize us, as far as I could tell anyway, and he also seemed in the dark about Walter's hiring tactics. He was under the impression that it was a money issue when we don't even know how much we're making for this,” he explained.

            “It sounds like it went well so why do you look like you're about to run for your life?” Ariadne asked and they both fell silent as the bartender set their drinks on the table and walked away.

            “Arthur even managed to convince Fischer to get us access to Susana's apartment through his connections so we didn't have to make any,” Cobb continued and she was still lost.

            “Okay, I take that back, it sounds like it went really well. So what's going on?” she asked again and he looked at her.

            “It's Arthur.” Ariadne could not contain her groan.

            “Look, you all need to stop obsessing over him acting a little odd. He met head to head with someone who was not only better than him but seemed to work on an entirely different moral plane. He's getting things done, isn't that what matters?” she said but Cobb looked at her, his expression deadly serious.

            “You saw what happened when we went in while I was all torn up inside and how that turned out. This mission is dangerous as well and we can't risk something happening in there. I can't risk it, not with my kids on the line again, so I want to make sure everything is fine. He's going to be the dreamer, did you know that? An unstable mark and an unstable dreamer do not make for a pretty combination.” He paused and released a slow breath. “I know he hurt you and I know he has pretty much shut all of us out but I need you to go talk to him. If he'll listen to anyone, it'll be you, trust me on this. If nothing else, remind him that the job depends on it.” Ariadne stared at him for a long time. She did not want to speak to Arthur, especially not alone, and especially not about their falling out. Yet here was Cobb asking her to do this for him, for everyone, because there was a huge risk that Arthur was out of control. There was more at stake here than her going upstairs and possibly getting hurt all over again. All of their lives could rest on this job getting done and getting done properly. Ariadne picked up her drink and knocked it back in two big gulps.

            “I'm going to need about ten drinks after this,” was all she said. The saying “liquid courage” rang true here because it took two more drinks before she was even able to walk toward the door. It took some persuading from Eames to find out exactly what room Arthur was in but she assured him that she was doing what needed to be done. Cobb asking her to talk to Arthur was really just an excuse she needed to confront him for real. The only conversation they had had since the fight had been in front of other people and this was something that needed to be said in private. The issue had been private to begin with and he had done it in public. That told her that he did not want to confront her alone and that was exactly what she was going to do. They had been together in some sense of the word for an entire year, and for that, Ariadne knew that she deserved more than an 'I don't care about you' in front of Eames. It only took one knock at the door for Arthur to answer. His hair was messy and out of place, his tie was loose around his neck, and his shirt was wrinkled with the sleeves pushed halfway up his arms. Cobb was right; Arthur was a wreck. He stared down at her with his dark eyes and did not say a word. Ariadne did the same: she did not look away and ignored the tension in the air.

            “Are you going to invite me in?” she asked after a long silence.

            “Why would I do that? There's nothing left to say unless it is about the job,” he said easily and she narrowed her eyes.

            “Maybe you don't, but I do and if you don't let me in I'm going to say everything in a voice so loud that everyone in the entire hotel is going to hear,” Ariadne said and she crossed her arms. Arthur stared her down before he stepped aside and let her into the room. There were papers all over his desk in various piles and his laptop was among the mess. The door closed and Ariadne turned around to see him standing with his hands in his pockets, watching her as if he was waiting for something. “You always make such a mess when you're working.”

            “Yes, I know, and so do you. Say what you need to say so I can go back to work.” Arthur's voice was cold.

            “I have plenty to say and so should you. I know you said all of those things to protect me from Walter so why don't you drop the act that you never cared. It's just the two of us so be honest with me,” Ariadne said and he creased his eyebrows.

            “I wasn't lying when I said those things,” he said.

            “I don't believe you,” she said and he shrugged his shoulders.

            “That's your business, but you were right about everything you said about me. I don't trust you and that made me realize that I never cared either. Whatever we had was physical and for work, nothing more,” Arthur said and despite herself Ariadne visibly flinched. His words hurt more now that they were alone and he was saying the same thing.

            “So that's how it is,” she said and he nodded.

            “Are we done? I have work to do.” He stepped aside to let her pass.

            “Actually we aren’t because this is affecting you even if you don't want to admit it,” Ariadne said and she narrowed her eyes. “You're making rash decisions. Take a look at yourself; you’re not even close to being all right.”

            “What does that have to do with anything? I'm fine, I’m just stressed because this job has very different stakes from the others,” Arthur said and she could hear a hint of him getting defensive.

            “Because you're going to be the dreamer, we all know that, and you know first hand that having someone in there who isn't stable can be dangerous,” Ariadne said and he walked up to her fast, staring down at her with wild-looking dark eyes.

            “I'm not unstable, so I think it's time for you to go,” he said. His voice was dark but she did not care.

            “Arthur, this isn't about you, this is about everyone. If this job goes wrong because you're rattled about something,” she said intently and she was surprised when he took her by the upper arms. His grip was tight but not enough that it hurt; he was trying to scare her, to get her to leave.

            “I'm not rattled, I'm fine and it's time for you to go,” Arthur said and they were so close together, the edges of their bodies touching. Ariadne leaned in even closer so she could look him directly in the eye.

            “I'm not going anywhere,” she said in a low voice. They stayed like that for what felt like a long time and it was like when they had kissed for the first time in her hotel suite. He was so close that she could feel his heartbeat and he could feel hers, she was sure. Ariadne was not sure who kissed whom first but the next thing she remembered was her back against the wall, Arthur's lips on hers. It was not a soft kiss, it was intense, like he was trying to force her mouth open. He released her upper arms and pushed her against the wall holding her there. Ariadne clenched his shirt in her fists because he was not going anywhere, not while she was holding on tight and wrinkling his shirt just the way he hated. Suddenly they were moving, Arthur holding her against him, and the next thing she was expecting to feel was the back of the bed, but he only set her feet on the ground before he pulled away and she realized he had walked her right out of his hotel room while she was distracted by his mouth. He took a step back, the wrinkles from her fists slowly coming undone from his shirt, and his eyes revealed nothing.

            “I told you to get out,” Arthur said before he closed the door in her face. Ariadne was stunned to silence, she honestly could not believe that he had just done that. She slammed her fist against the door, called him a 'bastard,' and stormed away even angrier than before. She had been right about one thing: she was going to need about ten more drinks. Though what made her furious was that even though he had slammed the door in her face, her body was still ringing with the memory of his hands on her and in that moment Ariadne was not sure who she hated more.