I have no last name because.... 1/?
Contrary to popular belief, Arthur didn’t hate being wrong. In fact, he found it rather refreshing sometimes when he was proven incorrect (provided that it wasn’t putting himself or anyone around him in peril). What he did hate was deliberate ignorance and idiocy, traits their current extractor had been displaying in enough quantities to make Arthur seriously consider dropping the job and taking Ariadne and Eames away with him. Unfortunately, he had a couple of logical reasons to persuade himself to keep working on it: 1) He and Eames needed to show Ariadne that not all jobs were like the Fischer Fiasco, or the most recent Holt Hell. They couldn’t all be grand magnificent challenges that inevitably went to shit; 2)All three of them needed a chance to relearn their work dynamic now that they were more often than not sharing one bed.
Therefore, Arthur kept them on the job and kept everything running according to plan, at least until they were riding a kick that came twenty minutes of reality time early to find guns in their faces. At this rate Ariadne was going to expect mortal peril around every corner on every job. Luckily for them, this wasn’t the first time Eames had woken to a gun in his face. While he took care of the two thugs Arthur slung the PASiv back into its hiding case (hardest piece of machinery in the world to get a hold of like hell was he leaving it behind) and Ariadne creatively used a chair to bust out the window to the fire escape of the office building they were currently occupying. Their extractor was long gone, and despite Ariadne’s pained compassionate face Arthur felt at this point the mark would either wake up in a strange office building not knowing what was going on or be taken by their assailants and that was an acceptable loss. He was well aware that made him more than a bit of a bastard, but between getting his two partners out unharmed and saving the mark he had no illusions about where his priorities lied.
Eames’s fantastic defense against the thugs gave them enough time to get out of the alley and into their car before they were noticed again by the nondescript black SUV parked out front. Arthur made a mental note to be less condescending for the rest of the week as a thank you for getting them out of their as he shifted and sped through the streets of Miami. Arthur hated Miami. It was an unfortunate side effect of having lived a portion of his life there. The sun and the storms he could handle, it was the sheer gall and ridiculousness of the criminals in the city that made him cringe.
For instance, he knew he was headed for the warehouses at the docks that no one should dare go into. They were run by the most prominent crime family in the north western section of the globe, and yet the idiots tailing them were continuing to do so. Of course, they might be thinking that Arthur was the idiot for going into that part of the city in the first place. They were wrong, because Arthur knew something only a few people in the world did.
He hung a sharp left and crashed through a couple of warehouse walls before screeching the tires to a stop. He knew he was getting some questioning glances from his partners, but he merely put on his best “Trust-Me-I’m-the-Pointman-and-I-Know-What-I’m-Doing” face and popped open the false bottom of the trunk so they could arm themselves.
“We’ll stay behind the car and defend while I make a phone call.” He’s not sure he’d ever seen Eames and Ariadne make a more identical set of expressions with their eyebrows somewhere in their hairlines.
“A phone call, darling? I don’t think now’s exactly the-“Arthur knows it must have been something on his face that stopped the forger because he didn’t even look up from where he was dialing the number on his cell. Ariadne sighs and Arthur can hear the click of her safety coming off as the ringing starts.
“At least you both insisted I learn to use a gun the correct way.” And then it’s her turn to be on the receiving end of wicked expressions from the men at least until the first shot fires from the hole they created from the car and the other line on Arthur’s call picks up.
“Who is it? This better be important. I’m in the middle of lunch.”
“Mother.” The pointman carefully ignores the incredulous looks Eames and Ariadne are shooting him in between using actual ammunition on their pursuers.
“Arthur! Is that you? You’ve put off calling me for a long time. I was just about to the point where I was going to send someone looking for you.” If his mother was any other mother that would be a joke, but she wasn’t any other mother; she was his and whoever she sent after him would probably have been able to actually track him down. He shuffles that thought to the side and shaves the shudder for later.
“I’m sorry, I was just calling to let you know your warehouses down by the docks have been busted into, and that I’m currently being shot at in one of them.”
“Why aren’t you shooting back? Oh, never mind I’ll send someone to take care of it immediately.” He can practically see her hands signing at some of the men she always has in the room with her to hop to her bidding. “They’re also going to bring you home for dinner. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”
“I hadn’t planned on-“ He tries to protest though he already knows when he’s been issued an order, not a request. Her response is instant and steely.
“So adjust your plan and adapt Arthur.” He sighs, but has to fight back a smile too when Ariadne whoops at hitting the mirror of their enemies’ car.
“I’m in the middle of a job.”
“So bring your client or coworkers with you. Surely you know this is one of the most secure places in the country. Really, son, you can bring your security work with you. I promise we’ll keep our business out of sight.”
“I will see you soon then.” He really didn’t have a choice at this point.
“Excellent.” And without another word the line goes dead.
Arthur sticks his phone back in his right pocket and turns to take his gun in hand before sniping at some of the remaining assailants. It’s only a few minutes before he hears more guns from somewhere behind the other vehicle and he turns quickly to Ariadne and Eames.
“I need the two of you to listen carefully and follow my lead exactly. In less than two minutes someone very dangerous who knows me is going to walk through that hole in the wall and take us to my family home. If my family was any other family I probably wouldn’t have a problem with this, but they’re the Masters.” He flinches when he’s pretty sure Eames has sprained his facial muscles showing that much shock.
“The Masters are the most powerful crime family in America, darling. You really have been keeping secrets.” Ariadne, thankfully keeps her thoughts to herself for the time being and simply whistles lowly at Eames’s explanation.
“So now you know why I don’t use my last name. There are some precautions we need to take to stay off their radar once we leave. We’re not together for the moment. I’m sorry; this has no reflection on either of you it’s for all three of our safeties. In fact, it might be best if you two pretend to be entirely wrapped up in each other at some times. They will never expect me to involved in a relationship with the both of you, especially if you’re giving off the appearance of being together. Also, dream sharing does not exist. We’re legitimate security operatives. It would be incredibly helpful if you could try to pretend I’m about one fourth as competent as I actually am.”
With one last apologetic look at them, Arthur straightens just in time to hear a voice from the gaping panels of the warehouse.
“Arty! It’s been way too long since you’ve come home for a visit.”
Arthur can feel every single one of the six hundred plus muscles of his body coil tighter than springs. He positively hates the weird not-mirror effect he gets when he looks at his twin. Arthur is clean shaven with his hair tidy while wearing his fitted waistcoat and trousers. Despite having the same features, James is scruffy and tastefully disheveled while sporting a loose shirt and fitted jacket.
“Hello, Jamie. I know I should have called sooner, but I’ve been busy.” Getting Cobb back to his kids, performing Inception, dodging Cobol, and maybe, just maybe, falling in love with a forger and an architect all at the same time.
“You still look like you’ve got a telephone pole shoved up your ass brother.” Arthur rolls his eyes as he hears Eames snort.
“And you still look like a celebrity stoner.” James grins in response to the usual taunt and Arthur can’t help but smirk back.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me brother?”
“Of course. Mr. Eames, Miss Ariadne, my twin James. James, Eames and Ariadne two friends of mine from my security team.”
“Lovely to meet you.” Eames chimed in while Ariadne threw up her best “I’m-Young-and-Attractive” smile. Arthur wasn’t fooled for a minute by any of them. James and Eames were both processing and sizing each other up, and Ariadne was cataloging every single word to play back and question Arthur about later.
“Charmed, as well. I was beginning to think our poor Arty was friendless in the cold cruel world. We should get moving though. Mom hates to wait on things.”
James turns on his heel and heads back for his vehicle while Arthur rolls his eyes hard enough that he sure he’s pulled something. He motions for his partners to follow and they grab their bags out of the car before heading for the exit.
“There aren’t any sirens.” Ariadne notes as they get back into the burning Florida sun. Eames nods while shielding his eyes and scoping out the three SUVs that had served as their reinforcements. “That’s the Masters family for you.”
Arthur can’t do anything except make an exasperated sound of agreement and slide into the passenger seat next to James.
Therefore, Arthur kept them on the job and kept everything running according to plan, at least until they were riding a kick that came twenty minutes of reality time early to find guns in their faces. At this rate Ariadne was going to expect mortal peril around every corner on every job. Luckily for them, this wasn’t the first time Eames had woken to a gun in his face. While he took care of the two thugs Arthur slung the PASiv back into its hiding case (hardest piece of machinery in the world to get a hold of like hell was he leaving it behind) and Ariadne creatively used a chair to bust out the window to the fire escape of the office building they were currently occupying. Their extractor was long gone, and despite Ariadne’s pained compassionate face Arthur felt at this point the mark would either wake up in a strange office building not knowing what was going on or be taken by their assailants and that was an acceptable loss. He was well aware that made him more than a bit of a bastard, but between getting his two partners out unharmed and saving the mark he had no illusions about where his priorities lied.
Eames’s fantastic defense against the thugs gave them enough time to get out of the alley and into their car before they were noticed again by the nondescript black SUV parked out front. Arthur made a mental note to be less condescending for the rest of the week as a thank you for getting them out of their as he shifted and sped through the streets of Miami. Arthur hated Miami. It was an unfortunate side effect of having lived a portion of his life there. The sun and the storms he could handle, it was the sheer gall and ridiculousness of the criminals in the city that made him cringe.
For instance, he knew he was headed for the warehouses at the docks that no one should dare go into. They were run by the most prominent crime family in the north western section of the globe, and yet the idiots tailing them were continuing to do so. Of course, they might be thinking that Arthur was the idiot for going into that part of the city in the first place. They were wrong, because Arthur knew something only a few people in the world did.
He hung a sharp left and crashed through a couple of warehouse walls before screeching the tires to a stop. He knew he was getting some questioning glances from his partners, but he merely put on his best “Trust-Me-I’m-the-Pointman-and-I-Know-What-I’m-Doing” face and popped open the false bottom of the trunk so they could arm themselves.
“We’ll stay behind the car and defend while I make a phone call.” He’s not sure he’d ever seen Eames and Ariadne make a more identical set of expressions with their eyebrows somewhere in their hairlines.
“A phone call, darling? I don’t think now’s exactly the-“Arthur knows it must have been something on his face that stopped the forger because he didn’t even look up from where he was dialing the number on his cell. Ariadne sighs and Arthur can hear the click of her safety coming off as the ringing starts.
“At least you both insisted I learn to use a gun the correct way.” And then it’s her turn to be on the receiving end of wicked expressions from the men at least until the first shot fires from the hole they created from the car and the other line on Arthur’s call picks up.
“Who is it? This better be important. I’m in the middle of lunch.”
“Mother.” The pointman carefully ignores the incredulous looks Eames and Ariadne are shooting him in between using actual ammunition on their pursuers.
“Arthur! Is that you? You’ve put off calling me for a long time. I was just about to the point where I was going to send someone looking for you.” If his mother was any other mother that would be a joke, but she wasn’t any other mother; she was his and whoever she sent after him would probably have been able to actually track him down. He shuffles that thought to the side and shaves the shudder for later.
“I’m sorry, I was just calling to let you know your warehouses down by the docks have been busted into, and that I’m currently being shot at in one of them.”
“Why aren’t you shooting back? Oh, never mind I’ll send someone to take care of it immediately.” He can practically see her hands signing at some of the men she always has in the room with her to hop to her bidding. “They’re also going to bring you home for dinner. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”
“I hadn’t planned on-“ He tries to protest though he already knows when he’s been issued an order, not a request. Her response is instant and steely.
“So adjust your plan and adapt Arthur.” He sighs, but has to fight back a smile too when Ariadne whoops at hitting the mirror of their enemies’ car.
“I’m in the middle of a job.”
“So bring your client or coworkers with you. Surely you know this is one of the most secure places in the country. Really, son, you can bring your security work with you. I promise we’ll keep our business out of sight.”
“I will see you soon then.” He really didn’t have a choice at this point.
“Excellent.” And without another word the line goes dead.
Arthur sticks his phone back in his right pocket and turns to take his gun in hand before sniping at some of the remaining assailants. It’s only a few minutes before he hears more guns from somewhere behind the other vehicle and he turns quickly to Ariadne and Eames.
“I need the two of you to listen carefully and follow my lead exactly. In less than two minutes someone very dangerous who knows me is going to walk through that hole in the wall and take us to my family home. If my family was any other family I probably wouldn’t have a problem with this, but they’re the Masters.” He flinches when he’s pretty sure Eames has sprained his facial muscles showing that much shock.
“The Masters are the most powerful crime family in America, darling. You really have been keeping secrets.” Ariadne, thankfully keeps her thoughts to herself for the time being and simply whistles lowly at Eames’s explanation.
“So now you know why I don’t use my last name. There are some precautions we need to take to stay off their radar once we leave. We’re not together for the moment. I’m sorry; this has no reflection on either of you it’s for all three of our safeties. In fact, it might be best if you two pretend to be entirely wrapped up in each other at some times. They will never expect me to involved in a relationship with the both of you, especially if you’re giving off the appearance of being together. Also, dream sharing does not exist. We’re legitimate security operatives. It would be incredibly helpful if you could try to pretend I’m about one fourth as competent as I actually am.”
With one last apologetic look at them, Arthur straightens just in time to hear a voice from the gaping panels of the warehouse.
“Arty! It’s been way too long since you’ve come home for a visit.”
Arthur can feel every single one of the six hundred plus muscles of his body coil tighter than springs. He positively hates the weird not-mirror effect he gets when he looks at his twin. Arthur is clean shaven with his hair tidy while wearing his fitted waistcoat and trousers. Despite having the same features, James is scruffy and tastefully disheveled while sporting a loose shirt and fitted jacket.
“Hello, Jamie. I know I should have called sooner, but I’ve been busy.” Getting Cobb back to his kids, performing Inception, dodging Cobol, and maybe, just maybe, falling in love with a forger and an architect all at the same time.
“You still look like you’ve got a telephone pole shoved up your ass brother.” Arthur rolls his eyes as he hears Eames snort.
“And you still look like a celebrity stoner.” James grins in response to the usual taunt and Arthur can’t help but smirk back.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me brother?”
“Of course. Mr. Eames, Miss Ariadne, my twin James. James, Eames and Ariadne two friends of mine from my security team.”
“Lovely to meet you.” Eames chimed in while Ariadne threw up her best “I’m-Young-and-Attractive” smile. Arthur wasn’t fooled for a minute by any of them. James and Eames were both processing and sizing each other up, and Ariadne was cataloging every single word to play back and question Arthur about later.
“Charmed, as well. I was beginning to think our poor Arty was friendless in the cold cruel world. We should get moving though. Mom hates to wait on things.”
James turns on his heel and heads back for his vehicle while Arthur rolls his eyes hard enough that he sure he’s pulled something. He motions for his partners to follow and they grab their bags out of the car before heading for the exit.
“There aren’t any sirens.” Ariadne notes as they get back into the burning Florida sun. Eames nods while shielding his eyes and scoping out the three SUVs that had served as their reinforcements. “That’s the Masters family for you.”
Arthur can’t do anything except make an exasperated sound of agreement and slide into the passenger seat next to James.