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lobelia321FIC: So Much More
AUTHOR: Me,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lobelia321 aka Lobelia Sackville-Baggins
FANDOM: Inception/Inception-RPS/Politics-RPS cross-over
PAIRINGS: Eames/Arthur; Tom Hardy/David Cameron.
ETA: Oh, vague mention of Orlando Bloom. In case it passed you by.
GENRE: Right-between-your-cheeks crack.
RATED: Somewhat mature. Let's call it NC-17.
DISCLAIMER: No babies were harmed in the making of this fic.
SUMMARY: On the eve of the UK referendum on the alternative vote, Eames had a dream. Yes, the dream is set in the future.
So Much More
by Lobelia
Yesterday, Eames had a dream.
"I dreamed I was this bloke called Tom Hardy. That bloke off the telly; wasn't he in that show, whatsitcalled? I had an ear ring and weirdest of all, I had tattoos all over my body. Shoulders, belly, nips, tats everywhere."
"Did you have tattoos on your dick?"
"Don't be daft, Arthur. I'm not like you. Anyway, in this dream where I was this bloke called Tom Hardy..."
"Wasn't he in Black Hawk Down?"
"Black Hawk Down? I don't think so. That was the chap from New Zealand, wasn't it, skinny chap in that film with orcs. Anyway, all those soldiers looked the same to me; couldn't tell one from the other; some were dying, others survived; could have been the same clone actor, 's far 's I was concerned."
"So what happened in the dream?"
"I had to vote."
"Vote?"
"In this referendum."
"You dream about referenda?"
"It was a referendum on the alternative voting system."
"Don't they have that in Fiji?"
"Maybe they do. Why not? I keep forgetting you've got a mum from there, Art."
"Noumea, Eames. Noumea. Get it right."
"They all look the same to me, those small Pacific islands. Fiji, Tahiti, Hokkaido, who can tell the bloody difference?"
"Your dream, Eames. Your dream."
"AV system. Okay? I had to go into this booth and vote. The voting paper was very strange; it wasn't made of paper; it was made of stone! Like an ancient stone tablet, with runes! But in the dream I could read the runes! I could read them with my eyes closed because I could trace them with my fingertips! I was awesome in this dream. Even if I was only wearing underpants to go voting in."
"It was a naked-in-public dream?"
"The voting booth was quite private."
"Is that why you couldn't tell about the tattooed dick? Because you were wearing underpants?"
"I was very torn in this dream. Because if I voted 'YES' to AV it meant that I had to go out and kill babies. Three babies! They were lined up outside the booth. In tiny little pushchairs. But if I voted 'NO' to AV I had to go to bed with David Cameron."
"That's a tough choice, Eames."
"Isn't it just? Babies? Cameron? Cameron? Babies?"
"Who's David Cameron?"
"Oh, you Americans don't know anything."
"I'm not American."
"Good as."
"Am not, Eames. Not, not, not."
"Whatever, Art. Anyway, David Cameron is the British prime minister. Sort of. I'm not sure, actually. There's also this other bloke, Rick or Nick somebody."
"Dick?"
"You have a one-track mind, you have. No, he's not called Dick. That would be daft. Whoever he is, I'd much rather sleep with him. Than with David Cameron."
"So what did you do? In the dream? Did you kill the babies?"
"Nope."
"Did you sleep with David Cameron?"
"Nope again. I took out my poker chip."
"Aha."
"And it turns out, it was all a dream. And the babies were just projections. And the tats weren't real. And Tom Hardy doesn't exist."
"He was never in that film?"
"Nope. And once I'd figured that out, the rest was kick-ass easy. I grabbed that David Cameron projection..."
"Uh-huh. Just wandering past, was he?"
"... yanked down his trousers, yanked down my underpants, yelled 'Come on, David, come on', and his big fat cock up my..."
"No need to go into detail, Eames."
"...was enough to kick me right out."
"Good kick, was it?"
"Fan-fucking-tastic kick."
"So are you going to vote for him from now on?"
"C'mon, Art. Takes more than that."
"More?"
"Much more. As you should know."
THE END.
Wed, 4 May 2011.
All original parts of this romp © to Lobelia.
Archived here and at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/194646
AUTHOR: Me,
lobelia321 aka Lobelia Sackville-BagginsFANDOM: Inception/Inception-RPS/Politics-RPS cross-over
PAIRINGS: Eames/Arthur; Tom Hardy/David Cameron.
ETA: Oh, vague mention of Orlando Bloom. In case it passed you by.
GENRE: Right-between-your-cheeks crack.
RATED: Somewhat mature. Let's call it NC-17.
DISCLAIMER: No babies were harmed in the making of this fic.
SUMMARY: On the eve of the UK referendum on the alternative vote, Eames had a dream. Yes, the dream is set in the future.
So Much More
by Lobelia
Yesterday, Eames had a dream.
"I dreamed I was this bloke called Tom Hardy. That bloke off the telly; wasn't he in that show, whatsitcalled? I had an ear ring and weirdest of all, I had tattoos all over my body. Shoulders, belly, nips, tats everywhere."
"Did you have tattoos on your dick?"
"Don't be daft, Arthur. I'm not like you. Anyway, in this dream where I was this bloke called Tom Hardy..."
"Wasn't he in Black Hawk Down?"
"Black Hawk Down? I don't think so. That was the chap from New Zealand, wasn't it, skinny chap in that film with orcs. Anyway, all those soldiers looked the same to me; couldn't tell one from the other; some were dying, others survived; could have been the same clone actor, 's far 's I was concerned."
"So what happened in the dream?"
"I had to vote."
"Vote?"
"In this referendum."
"You dream about referenda?"
"It was a referendum on the alternative voting system."
"Don't they have that in Fiji?"
"Maybe they do. Why not? I keep forgetting you've got a mum from there, Art."
"Noumea, Eames. Noumea. Get it right."
"They all look the same to me, those small Pacific islands. Fiji, Tahiti, Hokkaido, who can tell the bloody difference?"
"Your dream, Eames. Your dream."
"AV system. Okay? I had to go into this booth and vote. The voting paper was very strange; it wasn't made of paper; it was made of stone! Like an ancient stone tablet, with runes! But in the dream I could read the runes! I could read them with my eyes closed because I could trace them with my fingertips! I was awesome in this dream. Even if I was only wearing underpants to go voting in."
"It was a naked-in-public dream?"
"The voting booth was quite private."
"Is that why you couldn't tell about the tattooed dick? Because you were wearing underpants?"
"I was very torn in this dream. Because if I voted 'YES' to AV it meant that I had to go out and kill babies. Three babies! They were lined up outside the booth. In tiny little pushchairs. But if I voted 'NO' to AV I had to go to bed with David Cameron."
"That's a tough choice, Eames."
"Isn't it just? Babies? Cameron? Cameron? Babies?"
"Who's David Cameron?"
"Oh, you Americans don't know anything."
"I'm not American."
"Good as."
"Am not, Eames. Not, not, not."
"Whatever, Art. Anyway, David Cameron is the British prime minister. Sort of. I'm not sure, actually. There's also this other bloke, Rick or Nick somebody."
"Dick?"
"You have a one-track mind, you have. No, he's not called Dick. That would be daft. Whoever he is, I'd much rather sleep with him. Than with David Cameron."
"So what did you do? In the dream? Did you kill the babies?"
"Nope."
"Did you sleep with David Cameron?"
"Nope again. I took out my poker chip."
"Aha."
"And it turns out, it was all a dream. And the babies were just projections. And the tats weren't real. And Tom Hardy doesn't exist."
"He was never in that film?"
"Nope. And once I'd figured that out, the rest was kick-ass easy. I grabbed that David Cameron projection..."
"Uh-huh. Just wandering past, was he?"
"... yanked down his trousers, yanked down my underpants, yelled 'Come on, David, come on', and his big fat cock up my..."
"No need to go into detail, Eames."
"...was enough to kick me right out."
"Good kick, was it?"
"Fan-fucking-tastic kick."
"So are you going to vote for him from now on?"
"C'mon, Art. Takes more than that."
"More?"
"Much more. As you should know."
THE END.
Wed, 4 May 2011.
All original parts of this romp © to Lobelia.
Archived here and at AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/194646