Arthur and Rae

Greetings dear reader. This is just a conversation that I typed up at like 2 in the morning. Rachel is one of my staple characters in my Inception fanfics, but I've never posted her for personal reasons. She's generally much darker, but sometimes she and Arthur exchange banter. The only things you need to know is that she died when she was 14 and it was Arthur's fault, and now she just kind of hangs out in their dreams. Like Mal, but less psychotic (for the most part).

Disclaimer: I don't own Inception or Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog. Or a pony.

Arthur shoved his hands in his pockets, enjoying the cool breeze as he walked back to his hotel from the warehouse. He'd left at the same time as Ariadne, who had walked in the other direction, for which he was glad. He wanted to be alone.

"She seems nice," said an insincere voice. He didn't have to turn to see who was speaking. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. He knew it would never leave his mind. He wasn't even angry. He always enjoyed good conversation.

"She'll get the job done," he replied evenly. "How are you, Rachel?"

"Oh, you know, same old, same old," she said in a casual voice. "You'd think it'd get old living in someone's subconscious, but yours is just fine. Eames is wrong, I tell you."

"About what?"

"About you having no imagination. I mean, seriously, Cobb should be glad he can't dream. Some of the shit that you come up with at night?"

"You've been spying on my dreams?"

"Well, there's not a whole lot else to do. I'm never tired. You cursed me, you asshole. Now I'm stuck in this perpetual existence. And I'll always be fourteen, too. Someday, you'll have to dream me a driver's Ed school so I can actually do something with my life."

"You mean your nonexistent life, because you're dead?"

"Yeah, and who's fault is that?" Rae shot back. "Seriously, Arthur, you owe me a driving school. Maybe in a few years, I'll have set up my own little world in some unused corner of your mind. Like emotions. Nothing goes on in there."

"Feel free to move them any time you wish. I'm sure they wouldn't object."

"You're a doll. I should probably get going. Now that I have permission, construction must get under way. And no peeking until I'm done. I'm gonna set up my own mind trip paradise, and when it's finished, you can hang out all you want. Just as long as it doesn't interfere with the job."

Arthur laughed appreciatively. "Alright, deal. Tell emotions you have my permission to relocate them. They can share with liking Eames."

"Still being himself?" Rachel said sympathetically.

"Incessantly."

"Well, a maaan's gotta do what a maaan's gotta do." Rachel sang.

"Oh, God. Don't pull another Joss Whedon on me," Arthur begged.

"What?" she said innocently. "All I'm saying is that Eames may not be as bad as you think. 'Cause you know, eevery drop of rain brings water flowing to things growing in the ground."

"That's it," said Arthur, jokingly angry. "I'm taking out the music center."

"You can't do that!" cried Rachel indignantly. "It's my music center!"

"Yeah, but it's my mind. Ultimate veto power."

"We'll see about that."