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"I've been thinking," Saito said over lunch with Cobb and Arthur.
"Oh hell no," said Cobb.
Saito would never do anything so ungentlemanly as narrow his eyes at Cobb, but it was a near hit. Cobb had no such compunctions. He narrowed his eyes and Saito reared back, startled at the intensity of the squint.
"My company engineers have remodeled the PASIV for greater efficiency and usefulness," Saito said, regathering his composure. "I have been noticing a few...how shall we say this, bugs, in your last job that could be prevented."
"There haven't been any bugs," Cobb said.
"Uh," Arthur interrupted. "Remember last time when we couldn't find Yusuf in the dream?"
"And he turned out to have glitched inside a block of cement?" Saito finished. "Indeed, that is what I am talking about, Mr. Arthur. I hear everybody walked over poor Mr. Yusuf's fossilized face before they realized where he was."
Cobb bristled. "Yusuf is an inexperienced dreamer compared to the rest of us."
"Ariadne didn't glitch," Arthur reminded him. "Then there was that other job, the one where Eames had two heads."
"It's Eames," Cobb snapped. "Who knows that he didn't imagine it himself?"
Arthur had to acknowledge that point.
"Look, guys, I appreciate your concern but I've been using this PASIV for years. I like this PASIV. I know this PASIV. I'm not interested in trading it for a new-fangled version that's just a bunch of bells and whistles," Cobb insisted.
Saito smiled benevolently. "Where is your PASIV right now?"
"Locked in the hotel safe," Cobb said. "Wait. You didn't--"
"Did I not mention?" Saito replied. "This hotel is one of mine." He wiped his mouth with a napkin and threw a handful of crisp hundred dollar bills on the table. Arthur's eye twitched with the urge to pocket one of those bills for himself -- thieves' instincts even after all these years -- but he kept his hands to himself. Saito smiled as if he knew exactly what he was thinking. "Good day, gentlemen. I'm sure you will find the new model quite to your liking."
It was Hello Kitty.
"Oh my god," Cobb said.
"That's so cute!" Ariadne said, scooping it up and putting it on her lap.
"It's an aberration of nature," Cobb said.
"That's because you refuse to see past gender stereotypes," she said, admiring the pink luster.
"I like it," Eames said.
"Are you kidding me?" Arthur said, looking up from the laptop where he was researching their next mark. "I want a new PASIV as much as anybody who isn't named Dom Cobb, but this is garish. It'll draw too much attention. Can you imagine the fuss that'll be made at customs?"
"You're just sad it'll clash with your clothes," Eames drawled.
"Shut up," Arthur said, hating the mockery in Eames' voice that seemed to go even beyond this, whatever this was. Just last week Eames had cornered him at the urinals in the Beijing airport, nearly backed him into the wall, and asked, Do you have a problem with me, Arthur dear? And then, 'Cause you're always staring at me. And Arthur, who had never lacked for anything to say, lacked then. His traitorous mouth had gummed shut and it was all he could do to not whip out his pistol and shoot Eames in the face, just out of principle. If it was a dream, he would've done it in a heartbeat.
What a self-absorbed bastard.
And he did not stare, okay.
It was just -- three months ago -- July -- Ariadne wanting to stop for ice cream -- it was hot outside -- the ice cream dripped -- and Eames' mouth, Jesus Christ.
Yusuf said, very sadly, "It was lonely being a block of cement."
"You weren't the cement. You were in it," Cobb said.
"I called and called but no one heard me," Yusuf went on, his head drooping more dejectedly with each syllable. Clever bastard. Arthur knew what he was up to -- he'd seen Yusuf's Hello Kitty collection before, and in fact was not above suspecting Yusuf of being Saito's co-conspirator in getting them the new PASIV.
"It's not like we have a choice anyway," Eames said. "Unless anyone here is volunteering to walk up to Saito and say, thank you for this gift but no thank you? Oh, and can we have back the PASIV that you took from us, because that would be lovely."
They all shuddered.
"...Cobb could take off his clothes for Saito," Yusuf offered.
"What?" Cobb said, sounding like he was choking. "I have children!"
"I can't be the only one thinking it!" Yusuf said. "All those smoldering looks!"
"Good lord, man, don't bring your children into your striptease," Eames said. "That's just filthy."
"There will be no striptease," Cobb said between gritted teeth. "No stripping of any sort. No teasing of any sort. And I do not smolder at Saito. I don't want to know what drugs you're tripping on right now, Yusuf." While Yusuf protested the accusation, Cobb said, "Arthur, do you have the information on the mark for us? We're supposed to be working, remember." He snatched the pink PASIV from Ariadne and regarded it grimly, like a martyr facing his funeral pyre. "Let's see how functional it is."
The first opportunity they had to test the new PASIV model was against a mark named Sharon Quan, who worked in cutting edge biomedical research and had a very jealous colleague who was willing to pay through the nose for her research data. Arthur rather enjoyed the jobs that involved academics. It was so easy to win the academic marks over. Usually a liberal application of the words 'tenure' and 'funding' was enough to make them see you as their new best friend. It also helped the dreamscape this time was a smoky billiards den, and Cobb had bought Sharon Quan one too many daiquiris while posing as the research funding chair of some college in Nebraska.
Arthur and Eames were playing pool, all the while keeping an eye on the projections -- for all her drunken cheeriness, Sharon Quan had received subconscious training and was damn good at it when alerted to danger. Still, one thing didn't make sense to Arthur.
"Why are you here?" he asked Eames.
"You mean you aren't all aflutter to see me?" Eames replied, bending over to take his shot. His jeans were so old and worn that Arthur wished he would just throw them away already. The way the whitened denim stretched over Eames' ass -- that just wasn't acceptable.
"Cobb has me to back him up," Arthur said. "This job doesn't require more than that. It doesn't require any of your play-acting either."
"Hush, love, or the nasty projections will hear you," Eames murmured. "I notice you aren't asking any of these questions to Ariadne or Yusuf."
"Ariadne wants to gain field experience. Yusuf...well, let's be honest here; who's going to say no to a guy who can drug you six ways to Sunday?" Arthur said, smirking as he sank the next ball with a neatly aligned shot. And people said getting a degree in math was pointless.
"Beautiful," Eames said.
Arthur looked at him.
Eames smiled innocently.
"I'm going to check on Cobb," Arthur announced. He set down his pool cue.
"Wait, you aren't going to take the PASIV with you?" Eames said. "I mean, with you being the second in command of operations after all. You wouldn't want to leave it in my less than capable hands."
Arthur sucked in a deep breath and geared his manliness.
"It brings out the roses in your cheeks!" Eames called after him.
It really does! said the PASIV.
Arthur stopped in his tracks. Oh hell no.
"The PASIV is talking to me," Arthur hissed when Cobb finally extracted himself from Sharon Quan to double check a fact with his point man.
Of course I'd talk to you! You seem friendly!
Cobb gave him a look drenched in lemon juice. "I don't have time for this," he said, rubbing his nose bridge. "Just tell me the name of Sharon Quan's first childhood pet."
"It's Godzilla McFluffers," Arthur said immediately.
Ooo, said the PASIV.
"Are you sure you don't hear it?" Arthur demanded.
"Look," Cobb said awkwardly. He put a hand on Arthur's shoulder and shuffled his feet while Sharon Quan watched them in tipsy fascination. "I've been meaning to tell you this, but I think you should, uh, take a break. You've been working too much. It can't be healthy."
"Fuck you," Arthur said.
Would you? asked the PASIV. He's rather handsome!
And possibly this was the most unprofessional thing he had ever done -- he wasn't supposed to leave Cobb alone on a job, not ever -- but Arthur went into a bathroom, pulled out a gun, and shot himself.
"It was bound to happen sooner or later," he overheard Ariadne explaining to Yusuf in the warehouse. "Arthur's emotionally delicate."
"What," said Arthur.
The second job took place in the middle of a bakery. Cobb made Arthur carry the PASIV because he was sadistic like that, and Arthur clenched the pink handle until he swore -- hoped, prayed, begged -- the plastic broke.
Ow, you're hurting me!
"This isn't real," Arthur said.
Of course it's not real! If you need that to be explained to you, after all your experience....well, look, this is my judgmental face. I am making my judgmental face at you.
Arthur's fingers twitched.
Don't shoot yourself again! I think that's so sad! There's so much to live for, even in a dream! Like, like that wildly attractive man pounding the dough to your left.
"That's Eames," Arthur said. He lowered his voice when Eames looked over at him with an expression of mild concern. Arthur pretended to examine the bag of nuts in his hands. Not that it was a euphemism for anything. The mark liked walnut bread, right.
I think you should have sex with him, the PASIV said helpfully.
"My god, were Saito's engineers looking at gay porn when they programmed you?" Arthur hissed.
Oh no, the PASIV said. There were some very well-written articles too.
Arthur crunched the nuts angrily.
Think about it, the PASIV said. Look at that mouth of his! And those muscles in his arms! BRRRM BRRRM. I think I'm starting to heat up!
"Don't you dare," Arthur said. The last thing they needed was another PASIV malfunction. How was he supposed to explain to Cobb that the thing had glitched because it was too horny?
"Sorry, am I not kneading the dough to your liking?" Eames said mockingly, and he had a smear of flour on his cheek that was shaped like a tear drop curving to his mouth. His damn mouth. It wasn't as if Arthur was opposed to being attracted to handsome, talented, somewhat morally questionable men. His personal history was littered with them. It wasn't even that he was opposed to being attracted to colleagues. He'd had that...thing with Ariadne that'd tempered out to a solid friendship once they actually got to know each other, because those two experimental weeks of dating Ariadne had mostly involved fierce debates about Zeno's paradoxes that sent Ariadne fuming out of his apartment and Arthur composing pithy emails about Greek philosophy and Ariadne's taste in alt rock. They had not brought out the good in each other, was all Arthur was ever going to say about the subject.
But still, the point was, he had been willing to make the effort. He wasn't a rule-bound prude like Eames accused him of being. He knew the boundaries, he obeyed the boundaries most of the time and machined gunned them to merry bits the rest of the time.
His opposition to Eames was just that. An opposition to Eames.
(The first time they met, they'd been on opposing sides. Arthur was supposed to extract details of a military project; Eames was hired to stop him. Within ten minutes of seeing each other for the first time across the floor of an imaginary ballroom with ladies in taffeta and men in pinstripe, their eyes had locked, the violins had strained, and Eames AK-47ed Arthur and laughed).
You're a petty bastard, the PASIV said.
"I'll own up to that," Arthur said, because he was, and he had hated that laugh of Eames'.
The sex would be spectacular.
"Did Saito put you up to this?" Arthur asked.
Please, said the PASIV. As if a billionaire businessman has nothing better to do than to try and get you laid.
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
Eames has tattoos!
"That's a diversionary tactic if I've ever heard one," Arthur said, and shot himself again.
"Should we...should we be having a talk?" Cobb asked.
Arthur ignored him and flipped open his food and wine magazine.
I wrote you a story, the PASIV said slyly during the third job. You might even call it an erotic story.
"I call this the most surreal two months of my life," Arthur said. "And will you please shut up? I'm trying to drive a car through a burning wreckage here."
The title is 'Arthur and Eames Should Have Sex. Really, Really Soon.' The PASIV paused and then chirped out, Once upon a time there were two men who infiltrated dreams for a living. One was named Arthur and the other was named Eames. Arthur didn't like Eames because Eames had been mean to him once and Arthur never forgave him for it, but what he didn't know was that Eames was only mean because he liked him. When Arthur did realize this, he pulled Eames into a closet and put his penis inside of Eames until they both had an orgasm. The end!
"I don't even," Arthur said. "I mean, what. I know I'm repeating myself ad nauseam to a talking box and that's the first sign that I should check into a clinic, but what."
You didn't like it? the PASIV said mournfully. Did it lack romance? I was going to write you a tenderer version, but I didn't know what colour Eames' eyes are.
"They're blueish greenish," Arthur said.
The PASIV snickered.
"I keep files on these types of things. There's nothing sordid about it," Arthur said, and whipped them through a series of blockages that exploded in a fiery inferno the moment they passed.
What do you think of male pregnancy? the PASIV wondered. Arthur slammed the brakes, hard.
He's in the next layer, the PASIV said. But you're watching over his body in this layer. It's just lying there, so tempting. Why aren't you doing anything about it?
"Are you actually suggesting that I molest Eames while he's unconscious?" Arthur said, huffing with the effort of pushing the rock out of the cave where Eames, Cobb, Yusuf, and Ariadne were hooked up to the PASIV.
You have a knife on you. You could just slice open his buttons...and then lick him all over.
Arthur looked up at the startlingly blue sky. Ariadne had outdone herself this time. "Dear Jesus," he said loudly. "I'm sorry for that time I took the twenty from my mother's purse and blamed it on my brother. Oh, and for all the other things as well."
I don't know why you're being so difficult about this, Arthur, the PASIV said huffily. I lay out all these fantastic ideas for you and you keep on saying no. No to the electrodes. No to the elephant cage. No to the rose petals and the Boyz II Men soundtrack. I'm starting to think you hate happiness.
Arthur scratched his forehead. "Look," he said. "You're a piece of top-of-the-line experimental technology. I'm sure you're loaded with more data than all my computers combined. Why can't we talk about...baseball or the stock market or baroque architecture? I'm sure we could have a lovely discussion about baroque architecture."
Are you sure that's really what you want to talk about? the PASIV replied. Not the sweat shining on Eames' arms as he thrusts into you over and over again?
"If you weren't essential to the job, I'd bash you in right now," Arthur said.
I think I've realized your problem! the PASIV said on the tenth job. You're secretly afraid, aren't you? You're worried that if you let your guard down for Eames, you'll be vulnerable, and you don't want to be vulnerable in front of him because you know, deep down, that if anyone can break your heart, it's him.
"Sorry, try again," Arthur said.
Okay, is it because you're secretly worried that you'll be bad in bed?
"Nmgh," Arthur said. "I'm fantastic in bed."
By the twentieth job, Arthur's eye had developed a permanent twitch and all the other members of the team were giving him a wide berth. Except, as usual, Eames, who kicked his chair from underneath him yet again and called him a princess, and asked if her highness needed a nap that would make her less neurotic.
The twentieth job was in a swimming pool. Eames wore Speedos.
Arthur sat as far away from the PASIV as he could, but there was no use. His body was connected to the PASIV in reality, and it didn't matter that in the dream he didn't have the PASIV on him; the PASIV, damn it, was everywhere. And the PASIV was turning nasty.
All right, it's time to use the big guns, the PASIV said. Arthur, if you do not get up and kiss Eames right now, I'll kick you into limbo and make you stay there. Don't think I'm not capable of doing it!
"You are the most evil thing I have ever had the displeasure of hallucinating," Arthur said.
I'm going to count to ten. One...
Arthur stayed put.
Two...
Arthur stretched out his legs.
Three...
Arthur heard an uncomfortable grinding noise coming from inside the PASIV. He had never heard anything like it before. "Shit," he said, casting about for a solution. But Cobb was chatting up the mark and Eames was pretending to be a smooth, mesmerizing swimmer -- or not so much pretending -- while Yusuf and Ariadne were huddled together on the bleachers. Arthur was going to get his nails into the two of them after this was over; there was no way in hell they were ignorant about this, not with the way they kept on peeking at him and collapsing into hysterical laughter.
Four...
Arthur stood up, walked over to the edge of the water, and said, "Eames, get the hell out of the pool, right now."
Eames, probably assuming something had gone wrong on the job, obeyed quickly. He pulled himself out of the water, exposing every one of his tattoos. Arthur watched the line of water trailing over the bulge in his Speedos with an intensity and desperation that he hadn't felt since his latest attempt at the New York Times crossword puzzle. He curled a hand around the back of Eames' damp neck and Eames had time to say, "Really, Arthur, now?" before Arthur kissed him.
Use tongue! the PASIV suggested.
"Seriously, is there nowhere I can go without you following me?" Arthur muttered.
And Eames smiled against his mouth and said, "No."
So Arthur used tongue to both their satisfaction, and the PASIV went silent for once, fucking finally. He kissed Eames, and Eames kissed him back, and it was all brilliant and wondrous and perfect, like scratching an itch in a place you didn't think you could reach, all the way until Cobb was shouting, "WHAT THE HELL, YOU TWO. THIS IS NOT THE GODDAMN LOVE BOAT."
Eames flipped him off.
After the twenty-fifth job:
"So thanks, I guess," Arthur said. "You were right. His arms really are amazing."
Then he drove to a secluded location and threw the PASIV over a cliff.
