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[It's taken almost a day for Taylor to really think over everything and make a decision. She isn't the quickest on her own; it's easier to follow orders, but no one's giving them to her. Both Tommy and Dean are sick, probably more people that she hasn't even had a chance to check on, and she can't just sit around waiting to see if anyone that's followed the smile brings back anything that will help. She needs to move.]

Don't want to listen to that thing. Don't want to wait until people are dead for it to be worth a shot.

[It's a heads up to all the people who know how loud she's been about not playing with the smile. She's giving over this time. She's got reason to.]

I'm going into the maze. Could use some back up. If anyone's capable + still around.

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[ A bit rude... but valid. ]

Eames. I'm willing to join you, so long as I'm not carrying around dead weight.

[That makes her bristle, lifting her chin. Not forgetting the issue of Tommy's face, but skipping over it for the moment.]

I'm not dead weight. I'm trained, got experience scouting. What about you?

Oh, excellent. The same, more or less - I rather like puzzles. I never thought it'd come in handy on board a gigantic space ship.

[She snorts, almost a laugh.]

You must fucking love it here. Puzzles up to our eyeballs. [Not something she was very fond of, so maybe he would be useful. Even if his face was still freaking her out.] You got a gun?

It's plenty of good exercise for the mind, in any case.

[ He tips his head to the side, glancing down at something, then nods. ]

Though do we want to use them in an enclosed area? Then again, I doubt these rounds will pierce through our walls.

[It's not surprising he's got one, considering how he'd said he was more or less trained. Besides, it saves her a trip to Gunnery.]

We don't want to. But like fuck I'm going in there unarmed. Same for anyone I'm going with.

Trained and logical. I think we'll do just fine in a team together.

[She frowns for a moment, feeling like he must be being sarcastic, pretty sure he isn't. She looks away from the camera.]

You know where this thing's meant to start?

I was scouting about earlier and found an interesting enough scribble near the gardens.

We could very well start there, assuming it's not a trap. Which it could very well be, or just an obvious entry point.

Edited 2012-06-16 01:23 (UTC)

Sounds like where Kirk was heading, yeah. [Not touching the fact the whole thing could be a trap.] Ten minutes enough for you?

[ Eames doesn't like any part of it, but they can only work with what's in front of them. ]

Fine enough. I'll aim for eight.

[Another almost laugh.]

Sure, whatever. See you there.

[ Eames knows what she looks like, now, but knowing and seeing for yourself are two different things from a small screen to reality. So for the most part he's waiting for her to make an appearance in the corridor with the red scribbling at the farthest end. It occurs to him somewhat belatedly that they didn't catch one another's names - which in the end suits him well enough, he can find hers at a later date.

Assuming they don't end up on the wrong end of things.

He has a faint nausea rolling in his belly but it hasn't been nearly as bad as Ariadne's - yet. He'd rather be somewhat preemptive on this supposed cure of theirs; whether it only leads to a dead end or further clues is a bonus to the reprieve. As for the state of the dream itself...

Eames remains observant, but even he can't give a straight answer to the likes of Ariadne, only case by case hypotheses. ]

[Taylor takes the full ten minutes to get there. Not to keep him waiting, or make a point, but just because she takes a side trip to the kitchens to grab the most basic supplies possible (the closest equivalent to energy bars she can find, a couple of bottles of water, some kind of jerky she can give to the dogs). With no idea of how big the maze was, she wasn't interested in getting caught out over something stupid like no food.

When she does turn up, right on time, it's with her three dogs leading the way, obedient but clearly alert, no leads in sight. She isn't surprised that he's there already. The fact that it's like he said - eight minutes - is just points for his reliability.

The resemblance to Tommy is still freaking her out, though, and it's worse in person. She can see the differences, but they don't override the similarities, and it's just going to itch at her if she tries to ignore it. The whole maze situation's itching at her already - she doesn't need more piled on top. It's why the first thing she says when she stops in front of him, instead of any kind of greeting, is,]

The name Tommy mean anything to you?

[ It can. Tommy might be an intersex informant in South America who Eames gets in touch with perhaps twice a year - but he doesn't know Tyke, the more important bit. Her dogs catch his eye first and then her hands, the way she's holding herself before him, a pack on her shoulder. He thinks it might have been prudent to stop by the medbay again to retrieve basic medical supplies, bandages and the like.

Minotaurs in the maze. He, for once, keeps the answer clean and simple, though his eyes narrow a bit in curiosity. Or amusement. Or both. ]

No. Do your pups have names?

[Taylor stands like a soldier, like someone trained into good posture, but there's a constant tension, little shifts of movement in the line of her shoulders. Excess energy or a natural desire to slump into herself, maybe both. He says no on Tommy and she watches him silently for a moment, like he's going to change his answer. But he's asked about the dogs, and she still gets surprised when people actually care about them. She turns to where they've sat, quiet and waiting.]

Gingersnap. Chubbs. Windsor.

[Kooikerhondje, chihuahua, bull terrier, in order. Maybe Taylor's name (codename) should go next, if they're doing introductions, but she rubs at the side of her neck instead.]

There's a guy here, Tommy. You've got his face.

[ Though Eames doesn't particularly lean toward any animal (the feral cats he pawns off on Yusuf and dogs for the most part are ignored in Kenya), he likes Windsor best, offering the bull terrier a hand to sniff if he'd like it. He doesn't look back toward her as he retorts, though. ]

We look like we could be related, or I've actually stolen his face right off his skull?

[ It is, inherently, spoken very casually for the situation - if somewhat mocking. ]

[Windsor is the most gregarious of the three dogs, the most excitable, and though he knows he's to sit and wait, he doesn't want to miss the opportunity to say hello to someone new. He moves forward slightly to shove his nose into Eames' hand, snuffing enthusiastically, and Taylor doesn't stop him or reprimand him for it. Not when it had been offered, and the dogs are going to be just as much a part of their team in traversing the maze.

She's got the really goddamn bizarre conversation to distract her, anyway.]

Stolen his face. [Echoing the wording back at him stubbornly, knowing exactly how ridiculous the whole thing sounds.] You're older. He's American.

[But the similarities were still too much for it to be just could be related, even if that was one of the first things she'd considered.]

[ Could he have fathered a bastard?

Well, no.

Definitely not.

He has the faint wonder if it's one of the other's projection of him, albeit terribly misleading, but only shrugs. He can't forge, here. He's tried many a time, and certainly not to the extent of an out of body experience. And he's not met anyone with a likening enough of himself to create a projection of them, surely. ]

You'll have to introduce us, [ he comments, rubbing his fingers on the dog's muzzle and wet nose. ] I like to know who I'm apparently stealing from, anyway.

Maybe. [It does seem like the next obvious thing to do, to see if they really know anything about each other or not. But Taylor wouldn't blame Tommy for not wanting to deal with randomly acquiring some sort of double. She was feeling some aggressive defensiveness on Tommy's behalf herself, but it wasn't like Eames could have really stolen Tommy's face, no matter the way they were talking about it. It'd be Tommy's call, not hers.]

After this shit.

[She glances down the corridor, the red writing on the wall at the end.]

He's sick.

[It's heavy and sharp, the way she says it. Disease wasn't something you could fight with your fists, wasn't something she'd ever had to deal with before. She wouldn't have had to put a call out for back-up, if Tommy wasn't sick. He would've been there. She couldn't let this blue shit kill him.]

That's a shame.

[ The tension lacing up and down her legs is what catches his interest, though, brow quirking. ]

Is that why you're bothering to go through with all this?

[She looks at him sharply, quiet for a moment, shoulders tense. Defensive at his wording and how close he was to being right.]

I'm not meant to just let people die.

[Even if Tommy and Dean weren't sick, she'd still be heading in - it was what she was meant to do, what she was trained for. She just might not have been so quick about it.

She tips her head in the direction of the red writing, the arrow pointing the way.]

You ready?

Sure.

[ He's smoothly removing the H&K he keeps tucked in the back of his trousers, underneath the neat fold of the baggy silk shirt he's got on, and already taking a few steps toward the corridor before glancing back a ther. ]

What name should I be calling out if I'm in a spot, exactly?

[The dogs are very suddenly up and moving, Windsor giving an excited wuff as he bounds past Eames, he and Gingersnap moving to settle into a forward scout position. Taylor would follow them, take point, but Castiel has yet to turn up and if he tries that 'flight' shit again, it would be better if it was Taylor not shooting him rather than Eames actually shooting him.]

Tyke.

[She says it half-distracted, and then Chubbs (finally) gets up to trail along behind her, finishing off the formation.]

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