Notes for the entire story: No Beta, all errors are mine. Spell-checking brought to you by Firefox! Proofread once, written in two days. About five days after watching the movie. I don't own any of this, but had a lot of fun writing it, and by fun I mean oh god my eyes. Not enough Arthur/Eames on the net, well here is my contribution. Enjoy.

The ring of violins echos through the cavernous entry-lobby. Arthur's shoulders tense, his stomach clenches, music. Is the count-down starting, no, no it cannot be, because this is reality, not a dream. His hand closes around the weighted die in his pocket, familiar weight, familiar reality.

In the distance he can see more of the familiar, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the play of light through huge windows, he can see Eames and Ariadne walking together, he cannot hear them, but he can read them. They are having a conversation about the airline food, Arthur can tell this by the way Eames is using a packet of peanuts to accentuate his points. It would be ridiculous if they were conversing on other items.

Arthur has to look away as sun breaks through clouds, pouring into the hotel lobby and flooding it with dream-like light. He steps away from the wall at the proper time, letting the Forger and Architect carry most of the distance with their momentum. He meets them about three feet from the hotel's restaurant, arms easily wrapping around them both. "Four under Cobb." Arthur says before Ariadne can start into her display of happy reunion and Eames can crush him into a hug.

"Arthur! You look so well! Nothing has changed about you at all!" Ariadne's voice is a welcome reprieve to Arthur, too many ringing sounds of gunfire as of late, not enough pleasantness. Ariadne gives him the hug he expected from Eames, and Eames gives him nothing but a polite smack on the back. It is awkward all of a sudden, and Arthur can feel his collar tightening. Taking a step back he studies them, snaps them into his photographic memory, and notes that Eames' sleeve is worn at the edges, and Ariadne has gotten a haircut that makes her look like a beautiful imp. Despite the beauty, Arthur is drawn again to the worn expression of the Forger, the tattered details.

"Sit, sit, you must have had a long flight." Arthur pulls out a chair for Ariadne, and then quickly for Eames. "Now Darling, you know how I feel about your chivalry." Eames teases, but there is a spark in his eyes Arthur has come to recognize. Ariadne laughs at their teasing, as she often does.

Sliding into his own chair, Arthur waits till drinks and food have been ordered before he begins. "I know you are both expecting me to have information pertaining to why we have been assembled here again, but I have little to offer." He wishes he did, with the way Ariadne is looking so bitter under those layers of calm. "I received an email yesterday with flight information but little else." Arthur waits, Ariadne offers the same information, but Eames hesitates, which is normal for Eames, who never looks as if he's paying attention anyway.

"Yes, we're not the only ones either, I was making a call upon Yusuf and he received a letter as well. He refused to respond, which now that I'm here, m'thinking I should have done." Arthur does not need to hear the stress in Eames' voice, the man is all sharp lines. "Not to be an alarmist, but I do not believe Cobb is the one responsible for this meeting. Last I spoke with him, he was planning an extended vacation with his family to the sea-side, he had no intentions of being called away." After the separation Dom had been forced to live through, Arthur had expected the hiatus to last several years at least, not a mere three months.

"Then why the hell are you here?" Eames' eyes are glinting sharp enough to draw Ariadne's attention. He calms only moderately when she rests her hand on his arm and leans into him. Arthur knows they have not been together since that job, but there is something there that hadn't been the first go-round. "Because I knew you would both be here." Arthur does not elaborate, but some of the stress between them dissipates. "I doubt it is safe to continue this line of conversation here, as I am sure we are being monitored." Their food had yet to arrive, which would raise enough confusion he guessed to get them away.

Leaving did not seem to be a problem, as much as getting out the back door was, Arthur was used to dreams and twisting physics, over the past few months he'd been working with people whom were not always as careful as Dom. Guns came to be apart of the waking world as much as the dream. He hadn't come here with the mind to fight though, just to meet up, despite the subterfuge whoever had initiated this had resorted to, violence did not seem to be their goal.

Which is probably what threw him so hard when the shot rang out. He hadn't been expecting violence, had walked right into it, which was often the case as Cobb's point-man, but this wasn't a dream. Ariadne is already ducking, and god-bless the girl, he never should have let Cobb drag her into this. He had never had the best morals though, of course life-or-death situations changed that.

They had gotten to the back door of the restaurant, swept their way past wait-staff, Eames had started teasing Ariadne about her hair. He'd paused to comment, to draw a finger across her cheek when he'd heard it. Pain, sharp and stabbing. No matter how many times, it still happens, the automatic urge to clutch what hurts. He's tried to wean himself from it, but too many self-inflicted wounds, no matter where they occur, tend to harsh your calm.

Eames is shoving between him and the door, pushing him back into a nook between the wall and a fire-alarm box. Words are frantic and mumbled, time seems to slow down, deep breath. He has to work through this, because there is no waking up from this. Another deep breath, things speed back up, Eames is pulling a hand-gun from the back of his belt. Arthur still feels slow but his moves are quick. He grabs the gun from Eames, uses it to shatter the fire-alarm box. He pulls the alarm, takes another deep breath, and holds the gun at a downward angle, hiding it from the quickly rushing waiters and chefs that now pour out of the door past them.

Arthur gives orders in his ever-level tone, Ariadne follows them, moving on the other side of Arthur with the same quick speed of the evacuating mass. Eames follows them too, but there is anger there Arthur cannot focus on now. The weight of the gun in his hands brings him back to reality, and he struggles to map it as he would his dice, forcing focus.

The car almost hitting them is something new, he gets three shots off before the gun runs out, he catalogs that into his mind, so he can berate Eames later. These attackers do not use guns though, they overpower Ariadne easily, throw her into the car. They cannot leave her alone with them, they cannot fight them off without backup. Another shot impacts glass, Arthur drops the gun and moves on his own volition. Eames doesn't come readily, when they shove the Brit into the car his head falls to Arthur's lap a dart sticking out of his neck.