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Cobb was not the happiest person when he woke up from a successful dream extraction to find a four hundred pound Siberian tiger rubbing up against his side. His nose itched and his eyes watered as he leveled a squinty-eyed glare at an amused Yusuf. “Fix this,” he stated and tried to push the purring cat away from him. Half his side was coated in fur that he knew from past experience would never fully come off of fabric. It would get everywhere in the warehouse.

Yusuf scratched his head and looked at the tiger with a calculating look. Cobb could practically see the experiments whirling around in his head. “You know tigers are really good for—”

“Fix this,” he stated again. It was followed up by a violent sneeze. He didn’t care about the hows and whys of Eames retaining his cat form, but he wanted it undone. They were in the middle of an important job and he needed the forger back to his normal self. That, and he really didn’t want to have to put up with an even bigger pain in the ass Eames than he strictly had to.

He nearly tripped walking out the door when Eames rubbed up against his legs as if to evenly distribute his fur. He sneezed again and shot an irritated look at a grinning tiger who looked distinctly pleased with himself. There was a reason Cobb hated cats.

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Having Eames stuck as a giant tiger wasn’t entirely awful. Aside from the fact that the team had to put their mission on hold (and Cobb alternating between glaring and sneezing at everyone), Yusuf was gathering incredibly useful data about the effects of his special chemical compounds on animals. Not to say that he had ever entertained the thought of animal testing, as he’d hastily assured an irate Ariadne, but this was a necessity. He needed to run different types of trials on Eames the Tiger to get him back to his relatively normal self. He was doing science.

For instance, he found out within the first day that Eames had no recollection of his former self as a human. He turned his nose up at Eames’ favorite paisley print shirt (in favor of shedding all over Cobb’s clothes). He lounged about all day idly chewing on Saito’s expensive rug (which he later threw up in Cobb’s briefcase). And he ate raw meat with an almost animalistic delight (when he wasn’t getting into Cobb’s much needed coffee). Although occasionally Eames the Tiger liked to playfully stalk Arthur as if he were some kind of prey which was…well, actually not that much different than when he was a human.

On the whole, he concluded that Cobb’s face was going to implode if he kept squinting in anger whenever Eames the Tiger got near him. Oh. And that more testing needed to be done to change Eames back. Which was why he was hunched over his notebook furiously scribbling away as he observed the reaction Eames the Tiger had to drug-laced catnip.

Apparently the answer wasn’t good.

There was a heavy thump and then a crash as the tiger drowsily ran into Cobb’s desk. He knocked over the ceramic mug where it shattered on the floor into a million pieces. Yusuf noted that the coffee made a rather impressive Pollock pastiche. Maybe he should explore if Eames had artistic tendencies while in tiger form?

Cobb threw up his hands and scowled to the world at large. He was huddled in his office chair that was the farthest he could possibly be in the warehouse. Yusuf thought he heard Cobb mutter “fix this.” He decided to ignore it in favor of carefully putting a check mark next to the line that read KNOCK OVER COBB'S COFFEE. He wondered what else he could make Eames the Tiger do in the name of science.

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Ever since she was little Ariadne had always wanted a cat. She used to draw pictures in her notebooks about her and the cat (Mr. Whiskers, as she liked to call him) going on fantastic adventures. However, neither of her parents were animal lovers. They thought pets were best left to other people, so she had to make do with her stuffed animals. However, having a giant Siberian tiger as a temporary adopted pet was well worth the wait of a petless childhood.

She felt a tug on the end of her scarf and looked down to see Mr. Whiskers (as she’d secretly named Eames) chewing on the strings of her favorite yellow and blue scarf. She gave a secret smile and scratched the tiger behind one of his ears. “You silly thing,” she cooed and kneeled down on the concrete floor to gently pull her scarf from between Mr. Whiskers’ sharp teeth. “You know I can’t play now. Cobb gave me a job to do.”

She was supposed to be building another level of the dream project that was temporarily on hold. However, Mr. Whiskers kept stealing her blocks and gnawing on them as if they were play toys when he wasn’t batting the strings of her long scarf like a docile house cat.

Mournful brown eyes looked up at her. Ariadne could swear there was almost a pout hovering around the tiger’s lips. “No,” she said firmly. She tucked her scarf around her neck and out of reach of Mr. Whiskers’ curious paws. “No more adventures.” The large ears drooped and his tail sadly flicked behind him.

The girl sighed and looked around the room before setting down her blocks. Cobb was sulking at home, Yusuf had been kicked out of the warehouse for doing experiments on Eames, and who knew where Arthur or Saito were. “Okay, one more time,” she said excitedly. Mr. Whiskers got up on all fours so she could sit astride his back.

Mr. Whiskers’ happy yowls mingled with her laughter as they lunged forward into adventure with her scarf fluttering behind her like a banner.

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Getting involved with Cobb’s crew had been an unexpected but pleasant surprise for Saito. He didn’t have the same level of contact as the other members; his skills were in providing financial backing to Cobb’s ventures to make the impossible possible. Right now, that special skillset involved entertaining a very lazy Siberian tiger.

Eames was curled up near his feet while he worked on some paperwork. The tail flicked against the hardwood floors near Eames’ jewel-encrusted water and food bowls. He’d had his people wash and dry the tiger, brush his teeth, and groomed his fur until the tiger was just as beautiful as the rest of the furnishings in his office.

He reached one hand down to scratch at the tiger’s ears. The fur was thick and his fingers disappeared into the black and orange stripes; it reminded him of his favorite plush carpet. He wondered what would happen to Eames if he couldn’t be turned back. How much would it cost to design a space for the tiger to be comfortable?

“I could feed you all the gourmet food you wanted,” he mused. “Would you be interested in that? Maybe feed my enemies to you in exchange for every comfort you could ever want.” The tiger opened one eye to look at him in disinterest.

Saito’s eyes crinkled up in amusement. “I’ll take that as a no.” He scratched the other ear and watched Eames’ back foot twitch in pleasure. Even if Eames was nothing more than an oversized house cat, he was still useful to him. He had never had such a relaxing afternoon before. He was unbothered by his staff and there were no urgent obligations because of his personal guard tiger in the room. His people didn’t need to know that Eames was more interested in chasing his fingers for the next scratch than chasing after people. It would be their little secret.

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“I hope you’re happy,” Arthur grumbled to the tiger curled up on the floor watching him. “I won’t be able to sleep properly until you’re back to normal.” The tiger had taken a strong liking to him ever since they’d come back from dream sharing. Eames would aggravate Cobb, play with Ariadne, be used as a test subject for Yusuf, and occasionally entertain Saito when the man dropped by, but the tiger would always keep him in sight. The team had thought nothing of it until Eames had torn up the warehouse when everyone had gone home for the night. Somehow, the tiger had gotten out and wandered to where he lived, giving Eames-patented tiger yowls at the bottom of the apartment stairs—and generally creating a nuisance—until Arthur had come out. The story had been on the news for two days before the public outcry had gone down. During that time Saito had decided to buy the entire building next to the warehouse to create a tiger haven. A tiger haven that somehow he had been forced to sleep in as well until Eames returned to normal.

Arthur pulled back the expensive velvet comforter of the massive circular bed and slid into the equally expensive silk sheets (because Saito was not a man to do things by halves). No sooner had he settled amidst the thirty million throw pillows when Eames jumped up on the bed and slunk over towards him. He had just enough time to move his legs before the tiger dropped down onto the bed as close as possible to him and placed a heavy head in his lap.

“I’m not petting you.” He leaned over to reach his dream theory book that he’d left on the nightstand. Eames had a tendency to purr like a lawnmower whenever he was stroked, sometimes even opening his mouth in a happy yawn and blasting Arthur in the face with tuna and coffee breath (Cobb should really stop buying coffee when he knew Eames was going to steal it). He pulled out his reading glasses from the breast pocket of his pajamas and settled them on his nose, firmly trying to ignore the whining tiger in favor of a little late night reading.

He didn’t get very far before Eames grumbled and nudged the book with his head. One massive paw reached out to paw at his leg. He flipped another page in his book and pushed the paw away. “No.”

Eames’ ears twitched and his tail flicked out behind him as if in thought. He nudged the book a little bit harder this time and whined again.

He lightly bopped the tiger on the nose. “Behave, Mr. Eames.”

Eames scowled and completely knocked the book out of Arthur’s hands. He looked up at him as if to say Now what, darling? and Arthur gave a long-suffering sigh with a roll of his eyes. “And Yusuf said you have no memories as a human,” he muttered but scratched at the tiger’s ear. “You’re certainly as annoying as you ever are.”

Eames gave a happy grin and nuzzled his palm, every so often licking at his fingers with a warm wet tongue. He tried not to smile and went back to reading while petting Eames with one hand.

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Waking up naked curled around a lightly snoring Arthur certainly wasn’t the worst scenario that’d ever happened to Eames. Actually, it might be one of the best, and he almost wanted to grab his totem to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. The cat ears and tiger tail on the other hand, yeah, that probably ranked up there with the weirdest. However, he had bigger priorities on his mind other than where the tiger appendages attached to him came from in favor of having a bit of fun with a sleeping Arthur.

“Arthur,” he cooed and stroked a hand down the side of the man’s face.

The other man scrunched his nose up at the touch. “Mmpghh…tuna,” he responded muzzily and turned away from him.

He pouted and his ear twitched because that certainly didn’t sound like some kinky code word for “Yes Eames, take me right here!” In fact it sounded like Arthur might have some bizarre early morning craving for fish when clearly he was supposed to want sex. Preferably morning sex. With him. Well no matter, maybe his darling Arthur needed a little encouragement.

He quickly discovered that his nails were like sharp little claws. It made it easy work to shred Arthur’s pajama top (that he took a strange, happy delight in from the senseless destruction). He nuzzled Arthur’s bare shoulder and nipped at the pale skin with pointed teeth. The other man moaned in pleasure and it made his tail excitedly bob behind him. Blankets were pushed aside as he licked and licked and licked the curves of Arthur’s throat while his hands were busy tugging down Arthur’s pants.

He blinked in surprise when he was suddenly bopped on the nose. “Bad kitty,” Arthur mumbled sleepily.

Oh, so it was like that, hm? He quickly grabbed Arthur’s wrists and pinned them against the headboard, pulling Arthur onto his back and pressing his full weight on top of the other man. “I can be a much naughtier kitten, love,” he purred against Arthur’s ear.

Arthur’s body tensed and his eyes snapped open, silently taking in the ear and the tiger tail before relaxing under him. “I see one of Yusuf’s experiments partially worked.”

“You don’t like my new look?” he teased and bent his head down to nip at that slender neck again. He could see Arthur open his mouth in protest, and he wiggled his tail between them to stroke against the man’s hardening erection. He watched Arthur’s expression change to one of pleasure. That look basically said “Yes Eames, take me right now you devilishly handsome man!” because that’s exactly what his saucy little minx would say if Arthur wasn’t so overcome with ecstasy.

Neither of them worried about getting rid of his tiger appendages until much, much later.