Chapter Text
“I think she should be disqualified,” is what Alec says as soon as they settle into the judging room.
Yeah, definitely going to be A Thing, thinks Arthur.
“You know what we need more of on this show?” remarks Eames.
“Skylights?” drawls Alec.
“Alcohol,” says Eames mournfully. “They do not give us nearly enough alcohol.”
Arthur is inclined to agree with that. “There was nothing in the rules that said anything about skylights.”
“That is such a you thing to say,” sneers Alec.
“A me thing to say?” echoes Arthur. “You don’t even know me!”
“It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to look at you and know that you like rules.”
Arthur doesn’t even know what to make of this. “What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?”
“I think we’re getting off-track,” inserts Eames.
“You’ve been babbling about rules all day. Rules about bathrooms—”
“The rule that there should be a bathroom? That we shouldn’t reside in our own waste? Christ, they knew that rule in, like, the Middle fucking Ages.”
“Still a rule,” Alec says.
“Mal!” Eames shouts out the door. “Can you bring us a lot of whiskey? And a copy of the rules?”
“If we’re going to get obsessed with rules and disqualify people based on toilet locations,” remarks Alec, “then I think we should apply the rules equally and disqualify Arthur’s little pet contestant.”
“She isn’t my pet contestant, she just designs nice rooms.”
“How would you know?” Alec asks. “What is your training?”
“My training is being a human being who lives in rooms. Designers don’t design in a vacuum. I’m the audience and my viewpoint counts.” Okay, so it’s just parroting back what Eames had said to him but you didn’t try to improve on a good Eames speech.
Mal appears in the doorway and she is frowning disapprovingly. “What is this about the rules?”
“Yeah, the rules,” Eames says, “but let’s not forget the most important part of my request, which is a lot of whiskey.”
“I’m only bringing you whiskey if you agree to let me film the judging deliberations.”
Since the judging deliberations are the only time they’re free of cameras—they end up recording little sound bites to justify the decisions after the fact—Arthur says immediately, “No.”
Eames says, “Yeah, he’s right, fine, we’ll just take a copy of the rules.”
“What rules?” Mal asks. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know, the rules of the show,” says Eames.
“Arthur is obsessed with rules,” Alec explains. “You know how it is.”
“For someone obsessed with rules, he didn’t have a problem punching you, did he?” says Mal mildly.
Arthur decides that he doesn’t really go for women but Cobb has a point and he’d definitely kiss Mal given the opportunity.
Alec frowns and says, “We think one of the contestants broke the rules.”
“What rule?” asks Mal. “The no fraternizing rule?”
Arthur doesn’t move a muscle, and neither does Eames, and Alec just waves his hand and says, “No, not that rule.”
Which relieves Arthur. He’d forgotten about the no fraternizing rule. And if Alec knew how much time he spent talking to Ariadne, he’d be pushing to get her thrown out of the competition, not just this particular challenge.
“There are no other rules,” Mal says.
“What were the rules for the challenge?” asks Alec.
“You heard all the rules for the challenge. Eames read them. It was a single sentence. ‘Turn a one-hundred-square-foot space into a fully functioning apartment,’ wasn’t it?”
“One of the contestants installed skylights,” says Alec.
“Ariadne,” Mal says. “Yes, I know, I saw.”
“Well, isn’t that against the rules?” demands Alec.
Mal shrugs. “I don’t know. The rules, I remind you again, were a single sentence. And the only rule I care about is the no fraternizing rule. So unless anyone’s broken that rule?”
Mal pauses to allow a response. Arthur doesn’t think that she looks at him during the pause. Arthur also doesn’t think that Mal doesn’t look at him during the pause. So Arthur doesn’t think Mal knows anything about how much Arthur has broken the no fraternizing rule.
And Alec says, “Fine. Whatever. We’ll figure it out ourselves.” Which there is no way he would have done if he’d known how much Arthur had broken the no fraternizing rule.
Mal just turns and leaves. Arthur steals a glance at Eames. Eames looks bored, because Eames is a champion actor and is never going to give away how precarious Arthur has made Ariadne’s position in the competition with his stupid panic attacks.
Arthur takes a deep breath and says, “Fully functioning apartments need bathrooms. Can we at least agree on that?”
Alec huffs but he says, “Okay. Fine. But the one with the toilet in the kitchen counts.”
“And the one without an oven,” says Eames, because it’s clear he liked that one.
“Fine. I’ll give you all of that,” agrees Arthur. “So can I have Ariadne’s skylights being permissible?”
“How many apartments do you know have the ability to have skylights?” counters Alec. “The rules said they had to design an apartment. Apartments are stacked on top of each other.”
“Maybe it’s a top-floor apartment,” Arthur says. “The rules didn’t say anything about which floor it was on.”
“Can I suggest a compromise?” asks Eames.
“If your compromise is that Arthur gets his way,” begins Alec hotly.
Eames interrupts him calmly. “Ariadne stays in the running for the challenge but she can’t win. You can’t put her first when you write out your list.”
Arthur considers. He’s instinctively annoyed that Ariadne should be punished for being creative and thinking outside the box, but at the same time he realizes that the skylights gave Ariadne a huge advantage over the other designs, at least in his perception. Eames’s compromise is a good one.
“Fine,” he says. “Acceptable.”
Alec rolls his eyes. “We all know I’m never going to win against your united front, but I don’t see what the big deal was about the design. It was a bunch of visual puns, basically.”
“We all have our own taste,” says Arthur mildly, handing out the voting sheets. “Let’s just stop discussion and vote.”
“I do have one question first, though,” says Eames. “Is an entirely black flat that you can’t really see to move around in fully functioning?”