Inception 1. Chapter 1

A Christmas Carol

_by Amelia Alexandra_

**Author´s note:** A small christmas story written ages ago, which never got published. I thought it´t might deserve a chance to be read by someone else. English is not my first language. Any, and all, mistakes are my own as I have not asked the help of a beta.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own, nor do I claim to own, the original story line or the characters. This a fan fiction written based on by own idea. No money was made from this story, nor was there any intent to do so.

**Chapter 1**

Eames pressed his hand harder against the bleeding hole in his stomach, wincing at the pain the movement caused. Blood was already running freely over his hand and down towards the ground. It was dark in colour, indicating that the bullet might have hit his liver on its way in. It had been a freaking hollow point bullet too, and those things made a lot of damaged going both in an out. He wasn't really sure why he was trying to stop the bleeding; it wasn't like he would actually die in real life when he bled out. That was the great thing about dreams, but you still had to die to wake up, which made the whole thing a little less great. Dying wasn't something he enjoyed, especially not the slow kind of death that came with bleeding out.

He pressed his hand a bit harder against the wound before looking up at the point man, whom was currently trying to shot as many of the subject´s projections he could manage. They were both hiding behind a blue Mazda Sedan at the end of an ally while trying to outshoot the uncounted number of projections that was bent on killing them, or Arthur was hiding while Eames were slowly dying beside him, propped up against the rear tire.

The Glock in Arthurs hand gave a 'click' announcing that it was currently out of bullets. Arthur swore and ducked down to change the magazine. He ejected the empty one and, after reloading, he pointed the gun at Eames.

"You don't have to look so pleased at the prospect of shooting me, Arthur." Eames smiled just before Arthur pulled the trigger and everything went black for a couple of seconds.

He woke up back in the warehouse, laying on one of the lounge chairs. Around him the rest of the team was still under, as was the subject. Yusuf looked up from whatever he was working on while waiting for the job to be done.

"What happened?" he asked, watching as Eames carefully removed the cannula and the IV line from his wrist, swabbing the insertion site with alcohol before putting everything away.

"I got shot. He," Eames pointed towards their sleeping subject, "has a very nasty subconscious. Arthur was kind enough to wake me up before I had to die a slow and painful death from blood loss. He seems to enjoy killing me a bit more than I would appreciate. How's the subject?" Eames got up from the chair. He needed to walk around a bit to shake the feeling of being shot, twice. He couldn't feel anything, nothing had happened to him after all, but his brain still remembered the pain from the dream and he wanted to shake the memory.

"Still sleeping like a child."

Eames nodded. He needed a drink, or rather, several drinks. The job had been difficult so far, and judging from what had happened in the dream, Eames was pretty sure the rest of it wouldn't be a walk in the park. The forgery of the subject's brother had been good, he wasn't going to starting doubting his abilities, but somewhere during the dinner the subject had discovered that the person he was talking to wasn't really his brother. The whole thing had gone downhill from there. But really, Arthur should have known that the subject normally carried a gun on him, that information might have saved Eames from getting shot.

In the end the extraction attempt failed. Cobb and Yusuf brought the still sedated subject back to the man's overly expensive apartment in downtown of Stockholm, close to the Old City. Yusuf's reassurances that man would not remember anything when he woke up and that yes it would be possible for them to try again, did nothing to settle Arthur's irritation over the failed attempt.

"How could you possibly not know that his brother was seeing that girl?" Arthur was leaning against his desk; voice levelled, but there was no mistaking the anger underneath it.

"Well, considering he never once rang, visited or talked about her during the two days you gave me to study him, how the bloody hell was I supposed to know? And while we're on the subject of knowing, how could you miss that he carries a concealed Berretta on him? I don't particular enjoy getting shot in the stomach, darling."

"That's enough you two." Cobb interfered before Arthur could voice his response. "We all made mistakes. I know it's Christmas Eve tomorrow, but, unfortunately, we're stuck here until we get a second chance at getting the job done sometime next week, so stop taking your frustrations out on each other and try to concentrate on the job."

Arthur opened his mouth. Probably to protest against the accusations, Eames thought. He was inclined to do the same, but he had noticed that the tension in the room had been running a little high the last couple of weeks. His first clue had been when Arthur's and his bickering had taken a serious turn and the jibs and comments had become more spiteful and harmful as opposed to the playful banter they normally had going.

The job _had_ taken a lot of time and research, more time than what had been expected due to some unexpected setbacks that had taken time to overcome. Everyone was tired of trying and failing and the fact that the next day was Christmas Eve didn't help at all. Not that Eames normally spent Christmas with his family, but he did try to make it home when he could, last time being two years ago. His mother was probably ready to behead him by now. Ariadne was supposed to be in Paris with her parents this Christmas, she was the only one of the team that normally spent the holiday with her family, which said a lot about her, but probably more about the rest of them.

Eames had to wonder what she had told them when she called and said she wouldn't be home for Christmas. 'Sorry, mum, but I'm out stealing corporate secrets from a CEO in Stockholm using dream technology, so I can't make it home for Christmas'. Yeah, that was probably the last thing she had told them.

Cobb on the other hand probably missed his kids. After being away from them for so many years due to Mal's death and the arrest order put out for him, Cobb would probably have preferred to stay home with them as often as he could. The job was supposed to have been done by now and they should all have been on their way back home, but the little mishap had stranded them all in Stockholm until after Christmas. Eames refused to feel guilty about missing the fact about the brother seeing someone. He wasn't a mind reader.

"A tree," Ariadne suddenly said behind them, interrupting Arthur's protests before they even had a chance to be vocalised. All three turned to look at her with equal parts of confusion and disbelief. Yusuf just raised his eye brows from his position leaning against Ariadne's desk a little to her right.

"Could you be bit more specific, love?" Eames asked, rubbing a hand over his eyes which were currently threating to close on their own accord.

Ariadne made a gesture with her hand like the answer should be obvious. "A tree. You know, like a Christmas tree. It's Christmas, we're away from our families," here she shot a knowing look at Cobb, "and loved ones, and we should have a tree and presents. And for the love of God can we please eat something that doesn't come in a take-away box?" She was grinning in the end, seemingly pleased with her own idea.

"Sounds like a lovely idea, but where do we find a tree in this city?" Eames was intrigued by the thought of a Christmas tree. His family always had big tree in the middle of the living room. A tree would also help to give the grey and dark warehouse some much needed colour. He had never understood why Arthur always had to pick a warehouse for the workplace, why couldn't they just once have a nice hotel room?

"They sell them all around the city. And I'm sure there are some low priced stores that sell decorations." Again she waved her hand dismissingly in the air to emphasise that getting a tree would be a piece of cake. Eames wasn't so sure.

Yusuf tilted his head. "I could probably find something to make a proper meal from. We already have a gas stove, it wouldn't take that much to be able to cook something half decent."

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. "We're not dragging a tree in here. It will be a mess to clean up afterwards. And we need to work out the details to ensure that the mess that happened today," Eames tried to ignore the glare sent in his direction, "doesn't happen again." Ignoring it didn't really work and he felt the irritation of having the whole day's mess blamed on him rise. Before he could get around to voicing his irritation Cobb started nodding in agreement. Eames half expected him to agree with Arthur, but the man actually surprised him by not doing so.

"We could need a day of," Cobb said. "The tension here is thick enough to cut with a knife, and we're not going to get anything done when everyone is ready to jump at each other's throats. We'll not get another shot at our mark until after Christmas anyway and most of the groundwork is already done," he gave Arthur a look, "we only need to work out the last details."

The pursed lips and tight lines around his eyes told Eames that Arthur was less then pleased about the prospect of having time off. Sometimes it really seemed like the man lived to work.

"Great!" Ariadne was almost jumping up and down in glee. "I'll go with Yusuf and find something to make dinner of. Nothing fancy, just something that will be easy to make." She picked up her grey, wool coat and twisted a thick, white knitted scarf around her neck before finishing of the look with matching mittens.

"I'll come with," Cobb said, picking up his coat from where it was hanging over a desk chair. "I'm a decent cook, and we can pick up some decorations on the way." Yusuf also got his coat on and pulled on a scarf as well. Stockholm was cold this time of year and the snow was covering most of the city. The weather forecast had mentioned the possibility of more snow as well. Eames could help wondering if they would end up killing each other if they were snowed in during the next couple of days.

Ariadne turned to Arthur and Eames, who suddenly got a distinctive feeling of where this was heading. He started to grin just as Arthur caught on and shook his head in a firm 'no way in hell' movement.

"Absolutely not. I'm not walking around in this cold looking for a freaking tree!"

Ariadne gave him her best puppy-dog eyes, which in Eames' opinion was pretty impressive. Not that it seemed to have any effect on Arthur. He stared at her coldly, arms crossed firmly over his chest.

"Please," she tried, looking hopeful.

"No."

"Oh, come on now. Don't be such a Grinch. He'll go," Eames added looking at Ariadne and giving her a wink. She smiled in return and seemed to have faith in his abilities to get Arthur to change his mind because she left with Cobb and Yusuf, leaving Eames alone with an irritated Arthur.

"Which part of the meaning of the word 'no' escapes you?"

Eames grinned. "I never quite managed to grasp the concept of that word. It seems to be an easy one to turn around into something else. Now, where is your coat? We wouldn't want you to become sick now, would we, hmm? Where would we be with the job then?" Eames started humming on a Christmas carol he could remember from his childhood as he looked around to locate the point man's dark winter coat. He found it carefully draped over Arthur's desk chair and made his way over to retrieve it. Making his way back over to Arthur he held the coat out in an old fashion gentleman way to help Arthur put it on. Arthur gave him a long, suffering look, but allowed Eames to help him with the coat in the end, something Eames counted as a small victory. He slipped into his own coat and scarf before headed for the door.


	2. Chapter 2

A Christmas Carol

_by Amelia Alexandra_

**Author´s note:** A small christmas story written ages ago, which never got published. I thought it´t might deserve a chance to be read by someone else. English is not my first language. Any, and all, mistakes are my own as I have not asked the help of a beta.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own, nor do I claim to own, the original story line or the characters. This a fan fiction written based on by own idea. No money was made from this story, nor was there any intent to do so.

**Chapter 2**

"What's wrong with this then?" Eames asked for what felt like the tenth time. He was standing in front of a tree about 5 feet tall, which was nice and round with thick branches. It was a bit ruffled, but it still looked okay. It probably wouldn't win a beauty contest, but bulbs, lights and a star would make it look better.

This was their fourth seller. At the first place Eames had found, what was in his opinion, a nice, small tree that would be easy to carry back to the warehouse, but Arthur had taken one look at it and refused to go near it, so they had continued on to the next place. People were selling trees all around the city, setting up shops out on the streets and lining up the trees for prospective buyers to look at. With only one day left before Christmas Eve there weren't that many trees left, all the great ones had already been taken, only leaving the less than perfect trees. It didn't help the search that Eames kept getting distracted by the different Christmas markets they found around the town. The small booths sold everything from Christmas decorations, to food, drinks and handmade toys.

Arthur barely glanced at the tree Eames was standing in front of before moving on down the line of trees. "It's too small." This was the third time he had used that excuse. Eames rolled his eyes, but didn't bother to argue. He had tried that with the first three trees he had found that looked half decent, but had given that up four trees and an hour ago.

Currently they were walking around the old part of town looking for a tree Arthur could accept. For all the younger man's protests against the thought of having to go out and buy a tree, he surely wasn't making the whole thing any easier by turning down one tree after another. They could have just settled for the first tree Eames found and been on their way back to the warehouse. Not that Eames was complaining. It was rather nice to just walk around and take in the atmosphere of the city, and the smells and sounds of normal people that were out enjoying themselves or buying some last minute presents for their loved ones.

Then again, Eames mused, he wouldn't be Arthur if he accepted anything less than perfection, even when buying something as simple as a Christmas tree. The point man was currently looking over some trees that were lined up in the corner of a small square. From the frown on his face Eames could gather that he wasn't impressed by the selection.

Eames smiled to himself and made his way over to one of the booths. A petite, blond girl was selling cocoa, and from the smell it should be very good. She smiled as he approached and asked a question in her own language. When he titled his head slightly to the side with a 'sorry love, I don't speak Swedish', she quickly switched over to English. He ordered two cups of cocoa which was served promptly in two take-away cups with lids. He shifted through his wallet, discarding Euros, English pounds and a couple of pence until he found some Swedish kroner. He paid the girl the required sum and got back some change that he put into his right coat pocket.

"It smells great," he said and closed his eyes as the smell drifted upwards. It did smell delicious. Chocolate, honey and something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"It's the cinnamon," the girl explained with a grin. "It gives it that extra taste that makes it so great."

Cinnamon. That explained the wonderful smell. Eames had never thought of putting cinnamon into cocoa. He nodded and bid the girl farewell. As he turned around he found Arthur by the booth that sold what Eames assumed was homemade Christmas decorations. A variation of stars, painted glass bulbs and small figurines with a piece of string attached so that it could be hung from a branch on the tree.

Arthur was currently frowning at a small star that looked like something someone in kindergarten could have made. Eames grinned and made his way over.

"Not to your liking then?" he asked, holding out the second cup to Arthur. The point man put down the star in order to accept the cup. He looked at it suspiciously before looking back up at Eames.

"Cocoa," Eames answered to the unasked question. "I'm cold, and I assumed you weren't dying from heat in that thin coat you're wearing," Eames continued when Arthur raised an eyebrow, a small smile threatening to appear in the corner of the younger man's mouth.

"Thanks." Arthur took a small sip from the cup, carefully in case the liquid was hot. His eyes widened at the taste of it and he was quick to take another sip. Apparently Arthur liked the taste of cinnamon then. Eames filed that information away in his brain along with all the other small things he had learned about Arthur over the course of the time they had worked together.

Eames took a sip from his own cup and wasn't surprised to find that the cocoa tasted as good as it smelled. A sweet taste of chocolate, combined with the smooth taste of honey and the sharper taste of cinnamon filled his mouth and he smiled into the cup as he took another sip.

They walked down one of the smaller streets away from the square and deeper into the old city in the direction of the shopping streets. It was snowing slightly, a fine drizzle of snow covering their shoulders and hair. It was getting late in the afternoon too and darkness was starting to settle around them, but the snow and the Christmas lights hanging across the street above their head made sure that there still was plenty of light to see where they put their feet.

Eames hesitated in front of a small shop that sold different types of chocolate in beautiful boxes with Christmas wrapping and red bows. The chocolate was nothing like the cheap stuff you could buy at the supermarkets this was the real thing.

"Give me a moment," he told Arthur and opened the door. A nice, old man stood behind the counter, and from the look of him he was a little too fond of the chocolate he was selling. Eames smiled and explained his wishes. The man nodded and replied in a heavy accented voice, which was barely understandable, but in the end Eames got what he wanted.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the size of the bag he came back out with. "Some sweet tooth you have there," he commented.

Eames grinned and held the bag a little closer to his chest. "It's Christmas."

"I seem to recall your excuse for buying that insanely large bag of Skittles on our last job was that it was Tuesday."

"One can't have enough sweets, Arthur. You should try some, might put some meat on those all too visible bones of yours."

Arthur huffed and continued walking down the street. "At least I'm not the one that stands in front of the mirror in the morning complaining that I might have to start jogging again soon," he called over his shoulder.

Eames smirked and followed him.

##########

"There is nothing wrong with this one." Eames gestured with his hand towards the tree. It was perfect, or as close to perfect as Eames had realised they were going to get. Standing around 6 feet, with thick branches and a beautiful green colour the tree was the nicest one they had seen so far.

Arthur, on his side, shot Eames a look that clearly conveyed the fact that he wasn't entirely happy with it.

"Oh, come on now," Eames exclaimed. "We have been out searching for a tree for three hours now. I'm freezing my bleeding bum of here." There had been a scarf around his neck when they left the warehouse, which had helped keeping the cold out, but that had somehow made its way from Eames' neck to Arthur's. Eames wasn't entirely sure how that had happened. He could vaguely recall something about Arthur shivering and himself trying to be a gentleman.

"It would have taken less time hadn't it been for you getting side-tracked every other minute by something shinny." Arthur pulled his coat better around himself and regarded the tree again with a doubtful look.

"Fine," he finally said. "We'll take it."

"Oh, thank the lord," Eames muttered and looked around for the seller. He waved him over and left Arthur in charge of paying for the thing while he found them a cab to take them and the tree back to the warehouse. It took some convincing to get the cabdriver to agree to take the tree as well, but the promise of triple the cab fare did the trick.

The tree was tied to the roof of the cab and they both did their best to get comfortable in the backseat as the cab found its way through the city centrum and out onto the highway that lead away from the city. After around fifteen minutes it slowed down and turned of the road and onto a smaller, lesser used gravel road that led to the warehouse.

"Here?" the cab driver asked. His confusion was evident in his voice and Eames couldn't really blame him. The warehouse looked like it hadn't been used in ages, which was probably true, and it was understandable that the man couldn't figure out why they wanted to be dropped off there.

"Yes," Arthur said and opened the door to get out while Eames paid the man, making sure to give a large tip. With help from the cab driver they got the tree down and carried it between them the rest of the way to the warehouse.

Eames bit his bottom lip and tried to get a better hold on his end of the tree. It was heavy and the snow covered ground didn't make things easier since they had to be careful when it came to where they put their feet. He swore when he slipped on the snow for the third time and had to readjust his hold yet again.

To his right Arthur glanced over just as he put his foot on a patch of ice and went head first into the ground.

"Damn it!" Was all Eames heard from under the tree. He carefully removed the tree and looked down at Arthur, who was sprawled on the ground, snow covering his hair and clothes. He tried not to laugh, but when Arthur tried to stand, only to fall down again as he put his foot on the same patch of ice, Eames couldn't help it and he started laughing. He continued to laugh even as Arthur tried to kill him with a look so cold it made winter in Artic seem warm.

The feeling of something cold hitting him square in the face made him shut up and he carefully removed the snow from his face and hair.

Arthur had gotten back on his feet and was now carefully removing the snow from his hair and clothes, looking like a perfect picture of innocent. Not that his act fooled Eames in any way. Slowly he bent down and gathered a handful of snow that he formed into a solid ball. Arthur glanced up just as Eames finished the snowball.

"Don't you dare throw that at me, Eames," the younger man threatened, trying to get his hair to stay back the way it was supposed to, currently it was starting to curl a little around the ends.

Eames grinned and raised his arm, but before he could throw it, Ariadne came out the door and made a beeline towards them.

"Hey, guys!" She took in the scene with amused eyes before bending down to look at the tree. Eames let his arm drop along with the snowball, but Arthur continued to watch him with suspicious eyes.

"Now," Eames asked, "what do you think?" He bent down, along with Arthur, and lifted the tree. Ariadne made her way in a circle around them taking in the tree from every angle.

"By all means, take your time, love. It's not like this thing ways a lot," Eames complained, feeling the weight of the tree strain his already protesting muscles. Across from him he say Arthur make a face at the weight and shift in order to keep himself from dropping it.

"Sorry," Ariadne said, looking apologetic. She led the way and held the door open as the two men carried the tree in.

Someone, Eames suspected Yusuf, had found a foot for the Christmas tree somewhere. The tree was set up in the middle of the room, where it stood looking like it didn't belong anywhere near the rusty, old warehouse. Arthur was frowning at it, but Ariadne was looking delighted. She had found some light from a box and with Cobb's help they were slowly putting the lights on the branches.

Eames went rummaging through one of the boxes on the floor and came back up with a five pointed star. It was brand new it seemed since the price tag was still attached. He removed the small, red tag before handing the star to Ariadne, who after realising she wasn't tall enough to reach the top of the tree, handed it to Cobb.

"It's not standing straight." Arthur, of course, had to be the perfectionist. The star was moved until it stood straight before they moved on to the rest of the decorations. Eames couldn't help but hum as he hung a bright red bulb on one of the low hanging branches. Beside him Ariadne was singing on another carol, while Arthur was throwing them annoyed looks and Cobb and Yusuf were smiling.

"What's for dinner then?" Eames asked putting another bulb, yellow this time, with silver lines, on the tree. He was used to turkey from his childhood, but as far as he knew that wasn't tradisjonal Christmas food in Sweden.

"Something called 'pinnekjøtt'," Ariadne tried to get her tongue around the foreign word. "Apparently it's not a tradisjonal Swedish dinner, but it's very popular on the west coast of Norway."

Eames stared. "What exactly is it, love, because it doesn't really sound edible?"

"It's dried and salted lamb that is steamed," Arthur supplied before Ariadne had the chance. "I've never tried it, but I've heard it's easy to make. You normally serve it with potatoes, carrots and sprouts."

"Well, aren't you full of strange information, darling," Eames said, a small, impressed smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Arthur scowled. "It's doesn't require an oven, which is a good thing, seeing as we don't have one."

"Be grateful we have something to make dinner on at all," Yusuf commented from where he was putting the last of the decorations on the tree.

Cobb took a step back from the tree and said without turning: "Please, do try to get along for two days." The former architect reached out and moved a blue bulb further down on the tree. "There. It really does brighten up the place."

"It does, doesn't it?" Ariadne leaned against her desk and studied the tree.

"What now?" Eames asked. "Christmas carols and dancing around the tree?"

Arthur and Yusuf both snorted at the idea.

"Now we get some sleep." Cobb had already picked up his coat. "Everyone got the day off tomorrow," he sent Arthur a warning look, "I don't want to see anyone here before seven. PM!" he added as an afterthought. He left the warehouse, Yusuf and Ariadne close behind him.

Arthur headed towards his desk and settled down in his chair. Eames started to put on his coat, but kept an eye on Arthur who was pulling out a folder with information. He wandered over and stared down at Arthur while picking up his scarf that was lying neatly folded on the desk from where Arthur had put if when they returned with the tree.

"You do know what a break is?"

"Yes, Mr. Eames. I do know what a break is." Arthur's voice was perfectly calm.

"You sure? Can I have a definition of the word, please?" Eames asked in a doubtful tone, settling down at the edge of the point-man's desk.

The look Arthur gave him could have turned the sun into an ice cube.


End file.
