Inception - Mind over matter

Epilogue

The arrivals lounge was packed with people. They were so close, almost at the door. 

Two men the size of buildings grabbed them from behind.

"Walk calmly with us to the black Mustang parked just outside," one grunted.

Tiffany and Eames exchanged a fierce glance, her thoughts echoed in his eyes. Not a chance. Tiffany flicked her heel up, catching the man in the groin with her stiletto. He let go and collapsed in pain. Eames grappled for Tiffany's hand again, and they ran outside. 

Tyres squealed and black cars circled them. Trapped, Tiffany prepared to fight. But before anyone could make a move, a dark grey Land Rover with tinted windows smashed into the fray, stopping next to her. The back door opened and Robert stuck his head out, "Get in!" he cried.

Eames pushed Tiffany into the car, jumped in after her and shut the door. They were flung back against the seat as the car accelerated away. Tiffany reeled from the dejavu.

"Thanks mate," said Eames, he trained the gun he had stolen on Robert, "Do we know you?"

Robert put his hands up, "No, but I know Tiffany."

Eames looked to her, who hadn't gotten as far as shutting her gaping mouth, "I don't think she knows you," he cocked the gun.

"I can protect you!" cried Robert.

"I don't trust you," said Eames, "You could be working for anyone who wants her, the list of hunters is long,"

"Do I really look like I work for anyone other than myself?"

"Eames," Tiffany pushed the gun aside, "Does it matter right now?"

"Fine," he pointed the gun at the driver, "But I don't trust anyone,"

After he was sure they hadn't been followed, the driver pulled over. Robert gave him a huge wad of money and he sent him away.

"I don't like this," Eames told Tiffany.

"Me either, it's so weird..."

"I'll take you to my place," said Robert, strapping himself into the driver's seat, "You'll be safe there, for a little while at least."

His place was ridiculous.

Eames got out the car first, insisting he sweep the area. Robert escorted Tiffany to the door. He fidgeted while they waited for Eames to give the all clear. Tiffany marveled at the mansion; its huge oak doors, the vast driveway and all the colorful flowers framing it.

"Thanks," she told him, "For getting us out of that sticky situation."

"Anytime," he said. His eyes flitted around and he bounced on the balls of his feet.

"Are you OK?"

"I'm fine." But he couldn't contain himself. He grabbed both of her hands, "Do you remember? Anything at all?"

She leaned away from him, "Remember what?"

"Me. Us!" he cried.

"Us?" she repeated, "What do you mean?"

His eyes filled with sorrow. Tiffany felt guilty. She was causing him pain and there was nothing she could do. He raised her hands to his lips, and kissed them gently.

"I love you," he whispered.

The ice in her heart turned over, slicing her open. He dropped her hands and turned away,

"And you can't even remember. How tragic."