Dream a Little Dream (Inception: Arthur/Dom) For Me

Dream a Little Dream (Inception: Arthur/Dom) For Me (Chapter Three)

The dream world is almost impossible to describe. In fact, it is impossible. The best way I can put is this: It is anything you want, anyway you want it. You create everything from nothing, and it is your best dream. Anything can happen there.

“So you can really do anything,” I marveled. I pulled my hand through my hair, mussing it slightly, letting my bangs fall back in my face. The chestnut brown of it seemed more red in the light, but that wasn’t where my attention was. It was on the house in front of me. My dream house, to be exact. I was exploring it now, running my hands across the smooth leather of the couches. Dom followed behind me, hands in his pockets, slow loping walk.

“Anything you’d like. Where are we?”

“My dream house,” I told him, moving into the crystalline kitchen, moving my hands to the cool marble of the counters. It was just as I wanted it to be, and better. “I’ve been planning this house ever since I could remember. I started off as a little kid, but then I went into architecture, and the house became more real. I’ve just been trying to find the money to build it, you know? But here it is.”

“It’s nice,” Dom noted. I smiled at him brightly.

“Of course it is. I designed it.”

“I see you are very modest.”

“When I need to be.”

Dom did not seem to know how to respond to this. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he paced around the room, blue eyes focused and sure of what he was doing. I could not help but think of Arthur’s words a few days before. Dom’s wife died. Should I ask him? Might as well. What could he do? The worst is just refuse to answer.

“Dom, are you single?” I tried to go for subtlety, but realized too late it sounded as though I was flirting with him. He raised his eyebrows at me.

“Yes.”

“I mean,” I fumbled, “You’re obviously not a college student. Have you, ah, been seriously involved with someone?” I was digging myself a deeper hole. I should probably stop.

Dom’s brow wrinkled as he studied me. “You know about Mal.”

“Just that you were married,” I muttered. Dom’s lips twisted into an ironic smile.

“Yes. I was. She died.”

I waited for him to continue. He caught the look on my face – I wasn’t going to let him end it there.

“She committed suicide. She had an idea planted in her head while in a dream, and it carried over to real life. My life is not real, I believe was the wording.”

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. I reached out and touched his arm, unsure of what else I could say. He shrugged.

“It’s over now. I don’t think we have much time left.”

“Oh – “

As I spoke, I felt the swooping feeling of a kick, the house collapsing on itself. My mouth opened soundlessly, and I looked to Dom. He looked calm, even as the roof crashed down on us. I felt a moment of panic, and then I was awake, back to reality.

“What the heck, Eames,” I groaned, pushing myself to my feet. I righted the upturned chair, giving him a baleful glare. The dark haired man snorted, amused with his actions. “You better of had a good reason for that.”

“He never does,” Arthur put in as he walked through, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt. I made a face at him, but he ignored it. “Dom, your new extractor is here.”