#inception oc

“Jourdain?” Saito questioned as he lifted her hand to his mouth. He pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Are you from France, miss?” 

“Yes. Paris, actually,” she answered with slightly accented English. 

“Well, you look ravishing tonight, Miss Jourdain.” 

Sarai couldn’t help but agree with him. Arthur’s mind had put in her in a most gorgeous gown. One that complimented his own three-piece black suit and bow tie. A floor-length number that fit around her every curve, pale blush pink with a sweetheart neckline and spaghetti straps. A revealing slit that went up to her mid-thigh and white sandal heels. She hated that these were the only occasions that she got to dress in such fine clothes. But at least she got to wear them at all. 

“Thank you.” Sarai moved to her seat and pulled out the chair. “But I would prefer if we got to business, Mr. Saito.” 

“Of course, of course. Gentlemen, have a seat.” Saito gestured to her associates and everyone sat down. “May we not deny a beautiful woman with ambition.” 

The food was served. A rice dish with some sort of sauce and steak. Sarai took a few bites to be courteous. But it wasn’t as satisfying to eat as the real thing. She knew it wouldn’t satiate her real hunger. 

“Now, what is that you wanted to discuss with me?” Saito asked before he put a fork full of food into his mouth. 

Sarai put her elbows up on the table and threaded her fingers together. “Have you ever heard of extraction, Mr. Saito?” 

“Only vague notions.” He nodded his head as he ate. “It has to do with dreams, yes?” 

“That is correct.” She placed her chin on her threaded fingers and smiled at Saito. She watched as he fidgeted under her gaze. “We believe that someone wants to extract something from you — Mr. Saito, and we would like to help.” 

“How can you help?” 

“We are extractors ourselves. We have experience stealing ideas from people’s minds through their dreams. We want to help you,” Sarai said. 

“Think of it this way, Mr. Saito,” Cobb spoke up, “What is the most resilient parasite? A bacteria? A virus? An intestinal worm?” 

Sarai narrowed her eyes at Cobb for a moment. “Uh — what Mr. Cobb is trying to say — “ 

“An idea,” Cobb went on, keeping his eyes and entire body trained on Saito as he continued to eat casually, “Resilient. Highly Contagious. Once an idea has taken hold of the brain, it’s almost impossible to eradicate. An idea that is fully formed, fully understood — that sticks. Right in there somewhere.” 

“For someone like you to steal?” Saito asked. 

“Yes. In the dream state, your conscious defenses are lowered, and that makes your thoughts vulnerable to theft. It’s called extraction,” Arthur answered. 

Arthur always had been the best at explaining complex concepts to people, at teaching people. His guiding hand was gentle, his words, understanding. Cobb was a man of action, a man that preferred not to be bothered and to only get the job done. And Sarai, well, Sarai taught more by example than through words. 

“Mr. Saito, we can train your subconscious to defend itself from even the most skilled extractor.” Sarai leaned in closer to Saito. 

“How can you do that?” 

“Because we are the most skilled extractors. We know how to search your mind and find your secrets. We know the tricks.” 

It was slight, barely noticeable, the way Saito glanced to his right. To the blank wall of the dining room. But she noticed. She always noticed. The corner of Sarai’s mouth quirked up. There it is. 

“And I can teach them to you — so that even when you’re asleep, your defense is never down.” Cobb stood from the table and grabbed his glass of wine. “Look, if you want my help, you’re gonna have to be completely open with me. I need to know my way around your thoughts better than your wife, better than your therapist, better than anyone.” 

Sarai tilted her head as she watched Cobb circle the table. He really was the best in the business. It was like art, or some grand theater, watching him work. She stole a glance in Arthur’s direction, but he was already watching her. His face was serious, but beneath that was that characteristic warmth that Arthur always exuded. She felt something glowing and tingling form in the pit of her stomach when she caught his brown gaze. She pulled her lips between her teeth as she removed her arms from the table and put them in her lap instead. 

Cobb went on: “If this is a dream and you have a safe full of secrets, I need to know what’s in that safe. In order for this all to work, you need to completely let me in.” 

Saito looked to his right again and it was confirmed. The secrets were there. Saito wiped his mouth with a smile. A smile that made Sarai furrow her brow. 

“Enjoy your evening, gentlemen — Miss Jourdain.” He got up from his seat and Arthur quickly got up as well so as not to be rude. “As I consider your proposal.” 

He left the room far too quickly for Sarai’s liking. His bodyguards opened the sliding doors to the main hall of the Japanese villa they were in, revealing the extravagant party that was going on right outside the dining room. One guard remained to make sure they left the room. Saito knew something was going on. That something was off, either about them or about the world he was in. 

“He knows,” Arthur voiced her concerns as she got up from the table, smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed in her gown. 

A soft rumble went through the building, causing the glass lanterns that decorated the ceiling to rattle. Sarai looked up and watched as the shaking stopped. She had insisted that they use her for the first layer. Her mind was far more stable, less noticeable to projections. It was a skill she had honed over the decades. Cobb had said he needed her in the second layer, to gently urge Saito into revealing his secrets. But she knew what that shaking was. Nash was far too obvious for projections to ignore. 

“What is going on up there?” she mumbled as everything shook once more. 

Cobb looked down at his watch. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more — private.” 

So as not to draw too much attention, and also because Arthur was a man of chivalry, he offered his arm to Sarai. She took it gladly. He was warm and solid beneath her touch, hand cradled gently in the crook of his elbow as they exited the dining room and moved towards the balconies outside. A waiter passed them as they went, offering glasses of water and flutes of champagne. Sarai took a flute for herself while Cobb took a glass of water. Arthur didn’t partake in anything. 

It really was a beautiful party. Very Arthur in the way it was decorated and designed. Nash was a good architect for the most part, though Sarai thought he didn’t have as much attention to detail as he should have. The main hall was ornate and dimly lit, glass cases filled with art, armor, and historical artifacts strewn about the room. She wondered what this party might be for. Charity? Birthday? Anniversary? Just because? It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, as long as Saito believed it, but she still liked to think about it. To think about if this was real. However, she had the sneaking suspicion that Saito no longer believed in this reality. That he had wondered maybe a bit too much about the party, the people, and why they were there and talking to him about extraction. 

It was dark outside and too cloudy to see the stars. Choppy waves crashed against the rocky shore below them as they came out onto the balcony. The building shook once more, a few tiles falling from the slanted roof, but no one else seemed to notice. Sarai only looked at the tiles breaking and sliding to the ground passively as she sipped her champagne. It tasted like shit. The party was going to be over soon. All the guests would go home and it would be time for their plan to really go into action. 

Once they were relatively alone, Arthur stopped and turned the two of them around to face Cobb. Sarai let go of his arm. 

“Saito knows. He’s playing with us,” Arthur said. 

Sarai glanced around at the other guests outside. The usual projections, none of them seeming to take any notice that they were different from them. Then she noticed, standing near the railing of the balcony one level down from them, was a woman with short dark hair. Sarai felt like her heart had gone up into her throat. God, it looked like she was still alive. Right there with them. She looked beautiful, wearing a navy high-collared coat over a matching gown. Sarai missed her, but knew that she wasn’t real. And she knew that it was the very reason why she was wary to work with Cobb again. 

“Doesn’t matter. I can get it here. Trust me. He looked right at it when I mentioned secrets,” Cobb reassured. 

“Dom,” Sarai spoke up, “Why is she here?” 

Sarai nodded her head towards the woman. Arthur and Cobb both looked. Cobb seemed unfazed by the woman’s presence, while Arthur looked agitated by it. 

“Head back to the room, all right?” Cobb looked back at the woman again. “I’ll take care of this.” 

“Okay, make sure you do.” Arthur took Sarai’s hand as Cobb walked off. “We’re here to work.” 

Arthur led them through the throngs of people to their private guest room at the villa Nash had designed. A workspace so they could figure out their next steps and wait for the kick if they had to. Once they were alone in the bowels of the villa, Arthur let go of her hand and gave her the key to their room. She stood before the door, pushing the key into the lock, when she felt Arthur’s hands on her hips. 

“You really do look beautiful,” he mumbled into the shell of her ear. 

“I thought we were here to work?” she asked as the lock clicked. 

She pushed open the door and he gave her hips one last squeeze. “We are. I just thought you should know.” 

“Mm — duly noted, Mr. Darling.” She smiled over her shoulder at him, catching the slight quirk of his lips and the warmth in his brown eyes, before walking into the room. 

They quickly fell into their usual pattern of work. All sentiment and warm feelings gone between them. Arthur pulled out the weapons case from under the bed. Sarai made quick work of opening the window to get some fresh air and also a faster escape route. Arthur popped open the case and began taking out a few hand-guns and one long-range rifle. 

Sarai couldn’t help her mind wandering back to that woman she saw on the balcony. Mal. Cobb’s wife. Her friend. Sarai paused as she looked out the window into the blackness of the night. The waves crashing against the shore below. She remembered when news had reached her about Mal’s death. Of course, she didn’t believe the stories that Cobb had been the one to kill her. He loved his wife more than anything. And Sarai had noticed something was different about Mal after one of her and Cobb’s experiments. Mal had always been present, humorous, and caring. But after…Whatever happened, Cobb would never say, she was distant, cold, and prone to lashing out. Mal had told Sarai once that she didn’t think her lifelong friend was real — that their world wasn’t real. Sarai had brushed it off then, much to her regret now. For only a few days later Mal was dead. 

“Don’t think about it,” Arthur said. 

Sarai turned to look at him, standing next to her at the window now. It nearly aggravated her sometimes, how he could always tell what was going on inside her head. “How can I not?” 

“She’s not real. It’s only Cobb’s projection of her.” 

“But still I feel…This guilt inside me.” Sarai pointed to her chest. 

Arthur laid his hand on top of her’s that rested on the window sill. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Rai.” 

“That’s the point.” She stole back her hand, trying to regain a sense of professionalism. “I didn’t do anything.” 

The door slammed open. Sarai and Arthur both turned, too far away from the guns spread out on the bed. Four armed guards rushed into the room, Glocks pointed directly at them with aim unwavering. Sarai and Arthur glanced at one another before lifting their hands in surrender. They didn’t stand a fighting chance.

“Ah, good to see you’re both still here.” Mal came into the room carrying her own gun, a mischievous look on her face that Sarai recognized from when she would play jokes on her. 

“Mal — “ Sarai tried to speak. 

“No, no. You’re coming with us — Dom is waiting.” Mal signaled for the guards to apprehend them. 

But of course, they weren’t going without at least a bit of a fight. 

Sarai quickly disarmed the guard that approached her first by taking hold of his wrist and twisting his arm in an awkward angle. He cried out as his grip on the gun loosened, forcing him to drop it to the floor. Sarai kicked him in the gut, bringing him to his knees. But then she heard a gun cock, ready to fire, and she looked up to see Mal pointing a gun right in her face. No matter how many times it happened, it was still terrifying to stare down the barrel of a gun. 

Sarai looked to Mal, her friend, and found no recognition there. Only cold annoyance that she wasn’t complying. Her blue eyes found Arthur across the room, two guards holding him down to the floor while he continued to struggle. Sarai lifted her hands again in surrender. 

They were led back out into the main lobby of the villa with the glass cases. Then to the private dining room where Nash had hidden a safe in the walls. The screen doors were already slightly ajar when they approached and Saito stood waiting for them with a gun in his hand. 

What was Mal’s plan here? Why was she doing this? What had happened to Cobb’s projection of her that made her so unlike the woman she had been in life? This appeared to be premeditated sabotage, especially if she had gotten Saito involved. Sarai knew they shouldn’t have taken this job with Cobb. 

“Turn around,” Saito ordered as he entered the room with Mal beside him and flipped on the lights. 

“The gun, Dom.” He must not have complied. Sarai and Arthur were dragged into the room, pulling and tugging at the arms that held them. Mal pointed her gun at Arthur and they both stilled. “Please.” 

Sarai noticed the minute shake of Arthur’s head. But Cobb slid his gun across the marble tabletop anyway. 

“Now the envelope, Mr. Cobb,” Saito said. 

“Did she tell you?” Cobb asked, gesturing at Mal, “Or have you known all along?” 

Cobb placed the envelope on the table and Saito stepped closer. “That you’re here to steal from me — or that we’re actually asleep? I want to know the name of your employer.” 

Mal cocked the gun pointed at Arthur. Sarai flinched. 

“Ah — there’s no use threatening him in a dream, right, Mal?” Cobb said. 

“That depends on what you’re threatening. Killing him would just wake him up. But pain…Pain is in the mind. And judging by the decor we’re in your mind aren’t we, Arthur? Now the only question is — would it hurt him more to shoot him in the leg — or her?”

“No!” 

Mal suddenly turned to Sarai and fired. White-hot, blinding pain shot up through her leg, consuming her entire body as the bullet shattered her tibia. Sarai screamed in agony, her body buckling in on itself. She knew that it wasn’t real. The bullet, the shattered tibia, the pain. It was all in her head. But that didn’t stop it from feeling all too real. From feeling like her entire body was on fire, agony ripping through her very bloodstream. Sarai looked up, her vision white around the edges. She never had dealt well with pain. Mal knew that. 

And Mal also knew that Arthur would do whatever it took to get Sarai’s pain to stop. 

Through her haze, pain rippling through her as she tried to balance on her one good leg, she saw Arthur struggling hard against the men restraining him. His face pinched in anguish. 

Then she saw a flash of Cobb leaping onto the table. He grabbed his gun. And shot her right in the head. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Sarai awoke with a jolt in her seat beside Arthur in Saito’s apartment.

 She could still feel it. The pain from Mal’s gunshot in her leg. She ran her fingers into her short blonde hair and pulled hard, trying to distract herself from the sharp sting and numbness running up and down her shin. She was unsure if she could walk like this, with this residual agony from the dream. This was always one of her least favorite parts of the job. Having to carry around the pain of something that didn’t even really happen for a few days because your mind, your subconscious, was convinced it was true. 

“What happened?” Nash asked as she pulled the IV from her arm and pushed her bangs out of her face again. 

She looked up at the tall, lanky man and he knew. He knew just from the look on her face that things had not gone well down there. 

Arthur stirred beside her. Oh no. Sarai looked, and he was awake. Brown eyes glinting nearly orange in the waning sunlight. 

“It’s too soon,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I know,” Arthur said, immediately ripping the IV from his arm and jumping into action. He grabbed the extra PASIV and connected it to the original one they went under with, then he dragged the IV line over to Saito still asleep on the bed. “But the dream’s collapsing. I’m gonna try to keep Saito under a little bit longer. We’re almost there.” 

“That’s not going to work.” Sarai struggled to stand, her leg throbbing. “If the dream is collapsing it doesn’t matter how much Somnacin you give him — he’s going to die down there eventually. And from the looks of him, things are getting worse.” 

Saito rolled over in his sleep, groaning. Arthur nodded in agreement. “Fine. Wake him up.” 

Nash ran over to Cobb, still asleep in the chair on top of the table. A bathtub full of water was situated behind him. Sarai watched, head cocked, as Nash shook at Cobb’s shoulders and slapped lamely at his cheeks. Where did Cobb find this guy? 

“He won’t wake,” Nash cried. 

Sarai limped over, trying to disguise her pain. She couldn’t stand incompetence in the field. As a trained architect, by Cobb himself no less, then he should know better. He should know exactly what to do. 

“Then you give him a kick,” she said, blue eyes like daggers of ice into Nash’s soul as she pushed Cobb into the bathtub. 

Cobb woke up, gasping for breath and clutching the sides of the tub. But it was too late. Saito was already awake. He ran into the room, hitting Nash over the head with the butt of his pistol. Saito turned, using Nash as a human shield to point the gun at Arthur as he came into the room to help. Arthur looked as if he had been hit in the face. Sarai ran at Saito and tackled both him and Nash to the ground. Nash rolled, pinning Sarai to the floor with Saito between them, and elbowed the head of Proclus Global in the face. 

Sarai continued to hold Saito in a headlock as Nash got up, picking up the gun as he went. Nash panted. “He’s out.” 

She let go and pushed him off of herself with a grunt. Cobb offered his still dripping wet hand to help her up. She took it with a sigh. 

“Thanks for the help,” she said. 

He smiled. “It looked like you had it covered.” Then he turned to Arthur and Nash. “Get him tied up — we’re still not finished here.” 

“You didn’t get it?” Arthur asked as he scooped up Saito around the shoulders. 

“Yes and no.” Cobb accepted the towel Sarai handed him with a thankful nod. “The documents in the safe were redacted — he knew we were coming.” 

“How could he have known? None of the research showed that he had — “ Sarai said. 

“That’s the thing — he doesn’t. He’s hiding something. We gotta figure out what or we have nothing to give to Cobol.” 

They all nodded. Right. The job wasn’t done yet. They didn’t have the company secrets from Proclus that Cobol Engineering so desperately wanted. And if they didn’t deliver, their employer was not going to be very happy. To the point of violence, if Sarai had to guess. These sorts of companies did not mess around when it came to corporate espionage and hiring a team like their’s to perform extraction on a direct competitor. 

Once Saito was restrained, they sat around and waited for him to wake back up. The mob outside inching closer and closer to the building they were in. Sarai sat down on the pink, wing-back couch in the corner of the room. Arthur stood next to her with his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his suit jacket back on. She rubbed at her shin absently through the material of her grey high-waisted trousers. Business casual, more academia on this level with those pants matched with a similarly colored turtle neck. More akin to what she would wear in the real world. 

“How’s your leg?” Arthur asked quietly. 

If Nash or Cobb heard him, they didn’t act like they did. They both continued to sit and brood in their respective corners of the room. 

“Still hurts.” She stopped rubbing at it. “But it fades.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, head tilted down. 

“Don’t be.” She put her hand on the armrest, fingers stretching to feel the fabric of his dress pants. Some form of connection to him to let him know that it really was alright. “No one could have known what was going to happen.” 

Arthur opened his mouth to say something more, but Nash cut him off. “He’s waking up.” 

The rest of the team quickly jumped into action. Arthur moved to stand by the window and keep an eye on the slowly encroaching mob that was coming after Nash. Nash stood by the door in wait for them. While Cobb and Sarai took seats across from Saito who now stared at them with an angry glare. 

“You came prepared,” Cobb said, gently waving the gun that Saito had tucked under his pillow. 

“Not even my head of security knows this apartment. How did you find it?” Saito asked. 

Sarai smiled, a wicked, cunning thing that made Saito narrow his eyes at her. “It’s very difficult for a man of your position to keep a love nest like this secret — particularly where there’s a married woman involved.” 

“She would never,” Saito said. 

“Yet — “ Sarai gestured around the apartment. “Here we are.” 

She remembered snapping the pictures of the woman involved and Saito together. Hunkered down in a small European car like she was some well-paid private investigator. Getting a meeting with her and blackmailing her into taking her to the secret apartment. She felt bad for the woman. Her marriage was awful and Saito seemed to be the only bright spot in her life. Sarai remembered the tears that built in her eyes when she asked if her husband had sent her. Yet they still needed access. 

“We have a dilemma,” Cobb went on. 

There was a crash from outside, louder than all the other riot noise. Arthur warned, “They’re getting closer.” 

“You got what you came for,” Saito said. 

“Well, that’s not true. You left out a key piece of information, didn’t you? You held something back because you knew what we were up to.” Cobb pointed the gun at Saito. “Question is — why’d you let us in at all?” 

“An audition,” Saito answered. 

“An audition for what?” 

“Doesn’t matter. You failed.” 

“We extracted every bit of information you had in there,” Cobb said. 

Saito leaned forward. “But your deception was obvious.” 

Arthur and Sarai looked at each other, eyebrows furrowed. A car exploded outside. Then, over the noise of the rioting crowd, the explosions, the crashing, the shouting — was a song. Distant, like it was being heard from another room, another building entirely. Faint. A random French song that Sarai had recommended years ago for its lyrics about leaving the past behind and had somehow become stuck as tradition. Nash, Sarai, and Arthur all looked at each other. They only had twenty seconds. 

“So, leave me and go,” Saito sighed, nearly sounding disappointed. 

“You don’t seem to understand, Mr. Saito. That corporation that hired us — they won’t accept failure. We won’t last two days,” Cobb said. 

Arthur, eyebrows pinched in worry and forehead wrinkled, looked from the window to the rest of the team. Then he motioned for things to hurry along. “Cobb?” 

Cobb got up from his chair. Leaving Sarai not entirely sure what he was going to do next. “Looks like I’m gonna have to do this a little more simply.” 

He lept the distance between himself and Saito and grabbed the man by the back of his suit jacket. Cobb threw him to the floor at Sarai’s feet and pointed a gun at him. Sarai looked down at Saito then up at Cobb with an exasperated, confused expression. This was very unlike the Cobb that she knew before. Yes, he was a man of action, but he was also a calm man, a man of gentle precision and patience that made him perfect for this job. In extraction, there was no room for rash behavior or erraticism. But apparently for Cobb, there was. 

“Tell us what you know!” he shouted at Saito, “Tell us what you know now!” 

Saito chuckled deeply. Sarai could see him, lying there on the floor at her feet, petting the carpet beneath him thoughtfully. 

“I have always hated this carpet,” he whispered. Sarai looked over her shoulder at Nash then to Arthur. Each of them asking each other: What is he talking about?  “It’s stained and frayed in such distinctive ways. But very definitely made of wool. Right now — I’m lying on polyester. Which means I’m not lying on my carpet in my apartment.” 

Sarai now glared over at Nash. He was the architect — he was supposed to make sure every detail was exact. Sarai did not like a sloppy job. 

“You have lived up to your reputation, Mr. Cobb.” Saito rolled over to look at Cobb. “I’m still dreaming.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

She woke up on a train. One of those brand new, high-tech trains that went over 100 miles per hour in Japan. Her clothes were different again, but they were definitely the ones that she had picked out for herself that morning. Tan pleated trousers and a brown button-up sweater. Sarai immediately pulled out her IV. 

“How’d it go?” the kid they’d paid off to watch over them while they slept asked. 

“Not good,” she replied, directly him gently out of the way so she could adjust Saito’s sedative levels. 

He needed to stay asleep so they had enough time to leave the compartment or get off the train entirely. 

Arthur was the next to wake. Then Cobb. And finally, Nash. 

“Connard!” she hissed at him as he ripped the over-ear headphones from his head and pushed his fingers through his hair, “How do you mess up the carpet?” 

“It wasn’t my fault,” he whispered. 

Sarai began packing up the PASIV angrily. Her French accent becoming thicker by the second. “You’re the architect!” 

“I didn’t know he was gonna rub his damn cheek on it!” 

“That’s enough,” Cobb sighed as he checked Saito’s pulse. 

He looked tired. Sarai clicked the case shut with a shake of her head. If she had less control over herself, her hands would be shaking. A job gone wrong. A rare occurrence for her. She could feel the heat that had gathered at her neck and face. The constant buckle in her brow. She picked up the case and stowed it in her own luggage. 

“You.” Arthur jutted his chin at Cobb. “What the hell was all that?” 

“I had it under control.” 

“I’d hate to see out of control.” 

“All right, we don’t have time for this.” Cobb quickly ripped the IV from Saito’s wrist and got to his feet, pulling his belongings from the overhead bin. “I’m getting off at Kyoto.” 

Sarai sat back down in her seat. “Why? He’s not going to check every compartment.” 

“Well, I don’t like trains,” Cobb answered, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket, “Listen. Every man for himself.” 

He tossed the kid the cash and exited the compartment just as quickly. Sarai looked to Arthur. He nodded. She grabbed her hardcover luggage from the overhead bin and went out into the small train hallway, Arthur trailing behind her with his own bags. They went two cars down before they decided on a new compartment. One that was far away from Saito, just in case he decided to check a few, and one that was thankfully empty. Arthur re-stowed their things while Sarai slid the door closed. 

“I do not like a botched job,” she said, “The disappearing — the hiding.” 

“I know,” Arthur sighed, smoothing a hand over his hair as he sat down in the seat closest to the door. 

Sarai sat down in the window seat beside him. She turned to look at him. Dark brown hair slicked back, face more relaxed now that the job was finished, brown eyes gentle and soft like freshly tilled earth. She glanced out the small window of the compartment door. What if Nash or Cobb were to walk by? No. Nash and Cobb were both smart enough to go in the opposite direction of the train than them. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched his cheek. It was tentative, soft, with just the tips of her fingers — like a dance of fairies on a flower petal. He leaned into her touch with a soft sigh. 

“Did you tell Dom?” she asked quietly. 

He took her hand from his cheek and held it in his lap. “No.” 

“No?” 

“I planned on telling him after — but now — “ 

“But now what?” Her nostrils flared. “You promised me this was the last job.” 

“I know I did — I know I did. But we failed. I didn’t want my last job with Dom to be a complete failure and oh, by the way, you can never work with us again.” 

She sighed and looked back towards the window. The Japanese landscape flew by them as they approached Tokyo. He was right. If they were going to leave the business for good, they should leave on good terms. Especially with Dom who had already lost so much. The next job would surely go better than this one. 

“I suppose you’re right,” she said. 

“Just one more.” He pressed a kiss, long and reassuring to her fingers. “I promise.” 

Sarai leaned back in her seat and swiveled her head to look at him once more. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She reached up and grabbed the golden locket around her neck, feeling the metal between her forefinger and thumb. A rose was embossed into the face of the locket, a pattern that only she knew. A pattern that reassured her that this was not a dream. 

“Tell me about it again,” she whispered, “Please?” 

Arthur smiled and squeezed her hand. 

“Well — “ Arthur came up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, she lazily serpentined her own over his shoulders. “I got us a remote cabin in Colorado — beautiful mountain views, fully stocked kitchen.”

“And how long were you thinking to stay there, Mr. Darling?”

“Couple weeks. Until things quiet down with Cobol and Cobb needs us again.”

She leaned into him. Felt his warm breath fan her face, his hands solid upon her frame, his lips as they pressed gently against her forehead.

“Last job — right?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Last job.”

Sarai wanted to kiss him. But knew that if she did, she would never leave that room in Tokyo. She was so tired. Tired of moving from place to place, tired of running, tired of having to hide that which she loved so that no one could use it against them. Instead, she let go of him completely and picked up her bags.

Cobb’s room was one floor down from their’s. Arthur knocked on the door when they reached the number he had texted. Of all their colleagues, Dom was the only one who knew about them. He wasn’t an idiot and he had trained his brain to be observant. Sarai even thought some days that he knew before either of them did. He never said anything about it though. When he made plans, however, he always made sure that they stuck together.

“Our ride’s on the roof,” Arthur said when Cobb opened the door.

He looked like he hadn’t slept at all. If he did, it wasn’t very peaceful.

“Right.” Cobb went back into the room to get his things. Arthur and Sarai followed in after him.

Sarai watched as he picked up a metal top from the coffee table. She recognized that totem and knew that it wasn’t his. Sarai’s eyes softened as she watched him. She could never imagine, even in her deepest subconscious, what it must be like for him. To lose his wife then be separated from his children. To be blamed for her death in the first place. Sarai glanced at Arthur. She would end up something close to Dom Cobb if she ever lost him.

“Dom?” she asked as he stowed his gun away in his bag. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” he asked.

“Well — “ Sarai made eye contact with Arthur. “Mal showing up, down in the dream.”

Cobb grabbed his jacket. “Look, I’m sorry about your leg. Won’t happen again.”

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Arthur questioned.

“One apology’s all you’re getting, all right, guys?” Cobb looked at both of them pointedly as he shouldered on his jacket. Sarai raised her hands in surrender. “Where’s Nash?”

“He hasn’t shown,” Arthur said, clearly not satisfied with Cobb’s dismissal of the subject, “You wanna wait?”

“No. We were supposed to deliver Saito’s expansion plans to Cobol Engineering two hours ago,” Sarai said as she turned back towards the door, the men following her lead, “They know we’ve failed by now.”

“So it’s time we disappear,” Cobb agreed as he moved ahead of her and opened up his hotel room door.

The ride up to the roof in the elevator was silent. Arthur heaved one final resigned sigh as he watched the numbers change above the door. Sarai knew what that sigh ment. Him finally giving up on asking Cobb anything more about Mal. Though he would never tell anyone as much, Arthur cared deeply about the people around him. Especially for Cobb. A man he had worked with professionally since he had gotten into the business of extraction nearly eight years ago. They were close. Cobb never did a job without Arthur. But Mal — Mal never did a job without Sarai.

Once they got onto the roof, Sarai took a deep breath. The sun was starting to come up. It was cloudy though, so the sky wasn’t awash with bright pinks and yellows. Instead it was as if the sky was turning from black to lighter shades of grey.

“Where you gonna go?” Arthur asked as they made their way across the rooftop to the white helicopter that was waiting to take them to the private jet Arthur had arranged for them.

“Buenos Aires. I can lie low there, maybe sniff out a job when things quiet down,” Cobb answered, then looked over at the two of them, “You guys?”

“Stateside,” Arthur said.

Sarai couldn’t help but notice the look of pure jealousy that crossed Cobb’s face. “Send my regards.”

There was a suited man standing by the door of the helicopter. Sarai cocked her head as she looked at him. Odd. He didn’t look like he worked at the hotel, and he definitely wasn’t one of the pilots. They approached the helicopter anyway, though Sarai remained silently skeptical, and the suited man opened the sliding door. Sarai was behind both Cobb and Arthur, so when they suddenly stopped she nearly ran into them.

Nash was sitting in the helicopter bruised and bloodied. Saito sat across from him with an unimpressed face.

Saito sighed as he looked over at the three of them. “He sold you out. Thought to come to me and bargain for his life. So, I offer you the satisfaction.”

The man who opened the door for them offered a gun to Cobb. Sarai stared at the weapon with a furrowed brow. Though Nash was one of the worst architects she had ever worked with, and she was still processing the fact that he sold them out to Saito and possibly Cobol, she didn’t think he was deserving of death. What kind of business did Saito run?

Cobb denied the offer with a shake of his head. “That’s not the way I deal with things.”

Saito knocked on the window of the helicopter with a roll of his eyes. The other side came open and another suited man pulled a whimpering Nash from his seat. And all the three of them could do was watch. Sarai shifted uneasily on her feet, watching Nash go for a moment before looking down to the wet concrete. She hadn’t heard it rain the night before.

Saito silently waved them into the helicopter. What kind of choice did they have?

Cobb climbed in first, then Sarai, followed by Arthur. Sarai ended up taking the seat next to Saito with a sigh to steal herself. She watched out the window as Nash was dragged from the rooftop, his eyes trained on the helicopter as it began to lift off.

“What will you do with him?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Saito stared out the window. “But I can’t speak for Cobol Engineering.”

Arthur, Cobb, and Sarai looked around at each other. He was going to be dead by morning. Or worse, he could rat out that they had gone somewhere with Saito. The helicopter fully took off from the rooftop and headed east. It was surprisingly quiet inside.

“What do you want from us?” Cobb asked.

“Inception.” Sarai and Arthur gave each other a look. “Is it possible?”

“Of course not,” Arthur immediately answered.

“If you can steal an idea from someone’s mind why can’t you plant one there instead?”

“Okay, here’s me planting an idea in your head.” Arthur leaned forward earnestly. “I say to you don’t think about elephants. What’re you thinking about?”

Saito seemed to actually think for a moment. “Elephants.”

“Exactly,” Sarai chimed in, “It’s not your idea because you know he gave it to you. The subject’s mind can always trace the origin of the idea. True inspiration is impossible to fake.”

“It’s not true,” Cobb whispered.

Sarai snapped her head over to look at him, perfectly styled blonde bob getting mussed in the process. Cobb was looking out the window over the city of Tokyo. But he wasn’t really looking at the sights of the city. He was lost somewhere else, somewhere far away, by time or space Sarai couldn’t tell.

“Can you do it?” Saito asked.

“Are you offering me a choice?” Cobb questioned back. “Cause I can find my own way to square things with Cobol.”

“Then you do have a choice.”

“Then I choose to leave, sir.”

Saito waved his hand and the helicopter suddenly changed directions. Sarai stared at Cobb for a moment. What did he mean that true inspiration could be faked? The only way he could know that was if he had done it before, done it to someone before. Since Mal’s death, Arthur and Sarai had been a part of every job he had taken. It must have been with Mal…Or…

The helicopter hovered over an airport tarmac before landing. There was a private jet waiting for them there, but it was definitely not the one that Arthur had arranged for them. This one was far too nice for their budget.

Saito jutted his chin out at the jet. “Tell the crew where you want to go.”

Cobb slid open the door and they all climbed out. Sarai was thankful that they no longer had to be in such a tight space with an intimidating man like Saito. They began walking towards the jet.

“Hey, Mr. Cobb!” Saito suddenly called from inside the helicopter. It was hard to hear him over the whirling blades. The three of them turned to listen to him. “How would you like to go home? To America? To your children?”

“You can’t fix that!” Cobb shouted over the noise. “No one can!”

“Just like inception.”

Cobb turned to leave, but then looked back at Saito. Sarai saw an expression of deep confliction on his face. She knew how badly he wanted to go home, needed to go home, to be a part of his children’s lives. But he was on the run. If he went back to American he would immediately be arrested, tried, and found guilty for Mal’s death. He would be in prison for life. But inception — the concept was impossible. She remembered running experiments what seemed a lifetime ago on the idea. None of them had ever stuck. If they took this job, she was convinced they would fail. And they would be in an even worse position than they already were. Saito seemed more powerful than Cobol. Even a cabin in Colorado and Buenos Aires couldn’t hide them from him for long.

“Dom, come along,” she urged him to turn away.

But he didn’t. Arthur looked exasperated as they both watched Cob reappraoch Saito in the helicopter. He looked back at them for a moment then conversed with Saito quietly. Sarai couldn’t hear them over the helicopter blades. Arthur and Sarai stepped closer to hear.

“No idea is simple when you need to plant it in somebody else’s mind,” Cobb said.

Saito sighed. “My main competitor is an old man in poor health. His son will soon inherit control of the corporation. I need him to decide to break up his father’s empire.”

Sarai had been hoping for something a bit more romantic. It was always about money and corporations, these jobs. But Cobb seemed to be considering it.

“Cobb, we should walk away from this,” Arthur suggested.

“Hold on.” Cobb looked at the two of them for a moment, contemplation written all over his face, before turning back to Saito. “If I were to do this — if…I even could do it — I’d need a guarantee. How do I know you can deliver?”

“You don’t.” Saito leaned forward. “But I can. So, do you want to take a leap of faith? Or become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone?”

Cobb nodded his head. Arthur turned away in exasperation. Sarai could only stare at the back of Cobb’s head. She was getting that one last job sooner than she thought. But this one last job was going to be a long one, one that might not ever come to fruition or end in another failure.

Saito relaxed in his seat, satisfied. “Assemble your team, Mr. Cobb. And choose your people more wisely.”

The inside of the jet was nice. Plush leather seats, decent airplane meals, and wine. Cobb went up to the cockpit and told the pilots they were headed to Paris, France. Sarai perked up at that. Being in the city she was raised in would make her feel better about this whole thing. But maybe only slightly. Inception was impossible. She remembered a time when her and Mal experimented with the idea. It was always something simple, like having a cup of tea — never anything too complex. But it either never stuck or the subject, either herself or Mal, always knew that the idea wasn’t her own. It was frustrating, that something could be stolen but nothing could be implanted.

But Sarai trusted Dom. Maybe less so when they were down in a dream, but she trusted him. Trusted his knowledge, his methods. He was intelligent and an amazing extractor. If he said he had done it before, then he had done it before. And that was enough for her.

Sarai made herself comfortable in a seat by the window. Ordered a salad to be brought to her in a few hours. She looked out over the fading city of Tokyo as the plane got up to altitude. They were going to need a lot of people for this job. A new architect, obviously. Possibly a forger. She would have to wait to hear Cobb’s plan — though he could never get too involved it seemed. The past several times they had worked together he refused to learn the layouts for the dreams, especially not the cutthroughs for the mazes that were designed. Almost as if he was scared of something. But after yesterday, Sarai had a good idea of what he was scared of.

Around lunch time, though it was hard to tell inside the jet, the food was brought out to everyone. Sarai opted to sit behind the men at a separate table. Arthur had looked angry and agitated since they got on the jet. Picking at his nails, his brow permanently furrowed.

“Look, I know how much you wanna go home,” Arthur finally spoke up around a bite of his own salad, “This can’t be done.”

“Yes, it can. Just have to go deep enough,” Cobb said.

“You don’t know that.”

“I’ve done it before.”

Sarai stiffened in her seat. She knew it.

“Who’d you do it to?” Arthur didn’t receive an answer and Sarai heard him scoff. “Why we going to Paris?”