“His name is Eames,” was what Cobb said when Arthur inquired about who their third member was going to be. He was not exactly thrilled to find out that they would be working with a stranger. Arthur had many contacts in the business so there were many opportunities for him to find out everything he could about those they brought in on their jobs. It was hard to break into this field and it was even harder to keep yourself hidden once you did. He had found that out the hard way when his name was on people's tongues mere days after word traveled that he had done a successful extraction with Cobb. It was good and bad because it meant that they were getting exposure but with exposure came the chance that they might get caught up in a job that was way over their heads.
That was why Arthur did what he did, that was why he checked everything over a million times, and made sure he knew everything so if something did go wrong he had a way of dealing with it. It was not hard to get in contact with those that knew or had worked with this Eames man. However, most people just said that he was quite the 'character' which meant absolutely nothing when it came to details. Arthur did not need Cobb or anyone else telling him that he was obsessed with details because it was true. He was okay with that because details were his job. So when not much turned up on this Eames 'character' Arthur was already frustrated with the man before they had even met.
The job was a little more complicated than he and Cobb were used to and that was why they called Eames in. Most of the jobs they had done so far involved finding some sort of business strategy for another company and delivering it. That was more or less the jobs that they had worked since Mal had passed away because they could do them on auto pilot. This job was different though and the information was on an entirely different level. The mark was the son of a high profile politician and was under suspicion of being involved in a drunk driving accident that had killed a mother and two children. The grieving widower wanted to know if it was true and if there was any way they could find any evidence to incriminate the kid. The son had training so he would only feel comfortable around someone that he knew. They needed a thief to get to the boy and a forger to make him comfortable in the dream. Arthur was used to risks and things that could potentially go wrong but that did not ease his worries at all. Having someone new around that did not understand Cobb was dangerous. There was not enough time to even begin to explain the situation with Mal and really it was not his place to explain it. Arthur voiced his concerns but Cobb just said that this was a well paying job so they should take it.
He was not far into his research when Cobb told him to pick Eames up from the airport. When Arthur tried to argue Cobb shot him that oh so parental glare that made him feel ten years younger. Arthur narrowed his eyes but reluctantly agreed. Cobb said he had to go over the levels a few more times and he needed some time alone to do that. Eames was flying in from Mombasa and it annoyed Arthur even more when he got to the airport and found out that the flight had been delayed by a good hour. Arthur did not like being late, he severely disliked when things were out of his control and he hated when things that were out of his control were late.
After nearly two hours of standing around doing absolutely nothing Arthur was seriously contemplating letting the man walk back to the warehouse. The plane finally arrived and he stood on the sidewalk with absolutely no idea who he was looking for. Any effort he had made to find some sort of picture of Eames had turned up empty and it just added to his list of frustrations. Arthur shifted against the car as he leaned against it and scanned the people as they walked by. A man with broad shoulders, blond hair and an almost offensively flamboyant shirt strolled over with complete confidence. Before Arthur could react the man was right in front of him and very much in his comfort zone.
“Ahh, you must be Arthur. Cobb said you would be easy to point out in a crowd,” he said.
“You must be Eames,” Arthur groaned because he could already tell that this was not going to end well. “Let's get going.”
“Yes, I was late, I apologize about that. Had a little mix up while trying to get across the border,” Eames replied and he climbed in the passenger seat.
“I could have set you up with a better identity if you had left some way to get in touch with you. Instead I was stuck with nothing but different forwarding numbers that lead nowhere,” Arthur grumbled as he started the engine and they pulled away from the airport.
“I do apologize, darling. I'll make sure to leave a proper number just for you next time,” Eames said and Arthur clenched his jaw.
“Don't call me that,” he said. “And who said anything about a next time?”
“Oh you know paths cross often in this business,” Eames said with a laugh and the point man clenched the wheel so hard that his knuckles were turning white. He thought he heard Eames chuckle but he ignored it. Instead Arthur focused on evening out his breathing because there was nothing more annoying to him than someone who could get under his skin let alone someone who did. It had been some time since someone annoyed him so quickly.
It was nearly an hour later that they arrived at the warehouse. Eames grimaced as they both climbed out of the car.
“This is where you're working?” he asked and for some reason his voice was enough to get on Arthur's nerves.
“We decided to go for simplicity over aesthetics. Something tells me you'll get over it,” Arthur said and Eames snickered.
“My, my, you're an aggressive one, aren't you? I thought point men were supposed to be better at hiding their emotions.” And he sounded oh so amused. Arthur was about to make a comment when Cobb opened the door. Arthur knew he was not hiding and Cobb did not say anything.
“Mr. Eames, thanks for coming out on such short notice,” Cobb said.
“The pay is nice and I couldn't turn down an opportunity to work with you two. You're becoming fairly infamous in our world,” Eames said. Arthur wanted to deck him for being so condescending. If Cobb noticed he did not comment on it. Instead the three of them walked into the warehouse and Eames shot Arthur a wicked grin which he returned with a glare. This was going to be a long job.
Arthur tried to convince himself that he just needed time to adjust to having someone other than him and Cobb on the team. That after a few days he would be able to tolerate Eames' voice at the very least. Instead it just got worse. It was as if every pet peeve Arthur had, and even some he did not know he had, Eames managed to do. He was disorganized, loud and talked far too much for Arthur's liking. When he did his research he liked quiet, peace, so he could hear himself think. Instead, Eames kept a constant conversation with Cobb who did not seem to mind at all. It was mostly related to the job but when it got off topic, the level of irritating would skyrocket. There were several times that he was tempted to tell them to bugger off but Cobb seemed to sense it and gave him that same 'give it a rest' look that made Arthur shut up. The entire situation was just too much for Arthur to wrap his head around. This was not how he worked and he was getting less and less done as each day passed.
Cobb had left early about a month into the job and this was the first time he was stuck alone with Eames since the car ride.
“You seem to be having trouble concentrating, darling, anything I can do to help?” Eames asked not five minutes after Cobb left.
“Don't call me that,” Arthur said in a low voice. “And I'm fine.”
“The way I see it,” Eames said as if he had not heard Arthur at all. “You've been getting less and less done since I got here.” Arthur looked up from his desk. Eames was lounging at his desk, his feet on the table, and the gesture made Arthur wince even though it was not even his desk.
“You are distracting me, does that make you happy?” Arthur asked and Eames grinned.
“As a matter of fact it does. It feels so much better to get things off your chest, am I right?” he asked. Arthur shook his head and looked back to his notes. He wondered if maybe it was time to put on headphones and blast music loud enough to drown out Eames' voice. He was contemplating what type of music could possibly drown out that voice when two hands were set down over his work. Arthur looked up and Eames was leaning heavily on the desk looking down at him. He was not smirking nor did he look amused; for some reason he looked entirely serious. In the month Arthur had known this man this was the most serious he had ever seen him. “How about now, Arthur? Still distracted?”
“You're leering over me, of course I'm distracted,” Arthur said in a low voice. Eames grinned but did not move away from the desk. Instead he refused to break eye contact and the man had the most amazing poker face Arthur had ever seen. He felt like he was being examined and it made him uncomfortable. “Are you just going to stand there?”
“Why don't you move if I'm making you uncomfortable?” Eames asked.
“You're not making me uncomfortable,” Arthur lied before he pushed himself to his feet. “What I do need is to check something on the computer.” He turned and walked over to the desk across the room where he had set up a desktop for all of them to use. Arthur leaned over to type on the computer because Eames was not making him uncomfortable, he had to check and see if there was any update from the police about the drunk driving incident. There was no new update and he turned to find Eames standing right behind him. Arthur was about to say something when the forger moved forward until Arthur felt his back hit the wall. Eames put his hands on either side of Arthur's body, effectively pinning him against the wall, and Arthur's stomach twisted into a tight knot.
“How about now? Am I making you uncomfortable now?” Eames asked and his voice was strangely low.
“I think you're in my personal space,” Arthur replied but found he was suddenly having trouble forming a coherent sentence.
“So I am making you uncomfortable then,” the forger said and he grinned. “Good to know.”
“I think you should take about ten steps back before I deck you,” Arthur said and Eames laughed before he did take those steps back. The point man kept his back against the wall but did not say a word. Eames stared at him for only a moment before he turned on his heels and walked back to his desk. The feet went up and the forger went back to reading the file that Arthur had compiled for him on possible marks to forge. Arthur swallowed the lump in his throat and went back to his own desk. Eames was a forger and a thief, he knew how to manipulate people and how to read them, so Arthur was not sure what he had gained from lying about being uncomfortable. Eames had easily seen through the lie, he could tell by the glint in Eames’ eyes, but that did not mean he had to voice those feelings out loud. That made them feel far too real.
The next week was a combination of frustration and anger to the point that Arthur lost count of how many times he almost cracked Eames across the face. Whenever they were alone in any context of the word the forger was very much in his personal space, calling him 'darling' or 'love' despite how many times he was told not to, and idly touching his arm, shoulder, leg in a way that made Arthur bite his lip in anger hard enough to draw blood. If Cobb noticed the hostilities he made no comment about them and Arthur was beginning to suspect that he was ignoring it all on purpose so as to not compromise the job. Logically that made perfect sense but that did not make Eames any less intolerable. As the days dragged, Arthur realized that he was going to have to go out with the forger to profile the mark. He knew the day was coming but that did not make him any less annoyed when Cobb announced that they needed to start watching the mark directly.
“Hours alone with you? I'm thrilled,” Arthur deadpanned as they walked toward the rental car.
“Oh darling, don't deny that you love my company,” Eames replied and the point man had to clench his fists so tightly that he felt his nails dig into his palms.
“Don't call me that,” Arthur insisted.
“You know, love, you shouldn't let people get under your skin like that. It's not good if someone has that much of an effect on you. Makes it easier to manipulate you,” he said as they climbed into the car. Arthur stared but did not start the car.
“Is that why you're harassing me? To prove a point?” he asked and Eames grinned.
“Not at all. I'm harassing you because it's fun; the point is just a perk,” he said and Arthur groaned before he started the car. He did not dignify Eames with a response but he guessed that was just as bad as a comeback of any kind. The only words they exchanged as they rode through the city was how they should go about profiling without drawing attention to themselves and what radio station they should listen to. The mark was partial to going out at night and chasing skirts. He had a bodyguard but the man looked more like muscle to scare people away than someone who would actually be a threat. They were sitting in a dirty bar watching the playboy openly grope people in public as Eames drank a cheap beer.
“He has almost no connections to anyone,” Eames said. “I could forge one of his girlfriends but I don't think he'd feel safe around them despite the fact that he sleeps with them.”
“Sleeping with someone doesn't necessarily mean you trust them automatically,” Arthur replied before he thought the statement through.
“How true that is,” the forger said and it was a neutral response for him. That was far more surprising than anything lewd he could have come up with. Despite how much the forger irritated Arthur there were times that he was just puzzling and he really did not like it when he could not figure something out. “He's on the move,” Eames said downing the rest of his beer. The mark had his arm around a girl who was obviously far too drunk to know what was going on. Even from a distance Arthur knew the mark was looking at this girl like she was a piece of meat and not a person. It was enough to turn his stomach. He was not moving toward the front door though but the exit in the back. The bodyguard eyed the bar carefully before he followed the mark through the door.
“There is no possible way that will end well,” Arthur said quietly and Eames nodded. They eased through the crowd and toward the backdoor. There was no one in sight but the door to the alleyway was open. Arthur met Eames' eyes and they both nodded as their hands moved carefully to the concealed pistols they had hidden in belt holsters. Arthur eased out the door first and looked in both directions. There was no one in sight and the only sounds were cars passing nearby and the music from the bar. He eased all the way into the alley and Eames followed before he realized that this had absolutely nothing to do with profiling. He had seen that the mark was going to take advantage of someone and had not thought twice about intervening. Eames had not tried to stop him in any form either.
Arthur was about to suggest that they head back inside when the gunfire started. He ducked behind a dumpster and held his breath. The bodyguard was firing off round after round with no regard as to where he was aiming or who he was hitting. Arthur looked to his right at Eames who was behind some trashcans.
“He's going to hit a civilian at this rate,” he shouted and the forger nodded.
“Best you take him down quickly then, darling,” Eames replied and Arthur really did not care about the 'darling' comment at the moment. Arthur pulled out his pistol and closed his eyes trying to remember how many rounds had been shot off.
“How close is he to empty?” he asked and Eames seemed to think for a moment.
“Three more and you might want to hurry it up, too,” he said and the point man glared at Eames until he realized that the forger had been shot. The wound was in his side and bleeding quite considerably. “Don't look at me like that. You're not exactly 100% either.” Arthur blinked and realized that in the chaos he had not noticed the graze on his upper arm. Adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay but he could already tell that this was not something that would heal by itself easily. When the last three shots rang out Arthur turned and fired two of his own. The bodyguard was hit in the shoulder and dropped his weapon. The mark screamed that they needed to leave before there was the sound of footsteps and a car driving away. Arthur tried to calm his nerves as he stood and rushed over to Eames.
“Come on,” he said before Arthur took Eames' arm and pulled him to his feet. Arthur put the forger’s arm over his shoulder and started to walk them toward their car.
“I'm impressed, love, you're much stronger than I thought you were,” Eames said right into his ear and Arthur had never been more thankful that he had a gunshot as a distraction.
“And you're a lot heavier than you look so something tells me we're even,” Arthur grumbled as they reached the car. Using one hand and a foot Arthur managed get the backdoor open. He tried to ease Eames into the car but the forger managed to hold onto Arthur's shirt too long. Before he could react Arthur fell forward and he only managed to stop from falling completely on Eames by mere seconds. Now his arm was screaming at him as he leaned over Eames in the backseat of the car. Arthur moved away as fast as he could before Eames could make any sort of comment. “Just hang on,” he said as he started the car. The forger grunted but did not say anything. Arthur drove a little too fast and was more than thankful that he managed to get them to the warehouse without any issues. By the time he managed to get Eames from the car to one of the cots Cobb had set up for their use when they went into the dreams he was a dangerous shade of white.
“So do we get to play doctor now?” Eames asked.
“Yes, we do, but since it's your idea you're not allowed to complain,” Arthur replied as he dug through his desk. He found a bottle of Vicodin from the last time he had gotten shot and an amateur kit to give stitches that Cobb had bought him the last time Arthur stitched himself up with a sewing needle. He knelt next to Eames and handed him two pills. “Take these and enjoy the side effects.”
“I never thought of you as a drug dealer, love,” Eames said as he popped the pills dry.
“You've caught me in the act. Just don't turn me into the police since you're such a law abiding citizen,” Arthur deadpanned. He ripped the forger’s shirt open and examined the wound, making sure to avoid Eames' eyes at all costs. It was still bleeding severely and there was no time to wait for the painkillers to kick in. “This is going to hurt,” he warned, but the forger did not say anything. Instead he remained dead silent as Arthur got to work. The first stitch made Eames flinch considerably and Arthur looked up to see that the forger was biting into his finger hard enough to draw blood. Arthur pulled off his tie and handed it to Eames.
“As much as I appreciate the present--”
“It's not a present. If you need to scream then put that in your mouth instead of biting a hole through your finger or tongue,” Arthur said strictly and the forger did not say another word. Arthur continued to stitch the wound up until he was fairly sure Eames would not bleed out. He placed a bandage on the wound and took a deep breath. He felt calm and in control again.
“You need a few too,” he heard Eames say and Arthur opened his eyes. The forger was looking at him from the cot with that odd serious expression again.
“I'll take care of it. You get to lie there until I think you won't tear a stitch.” Arthur pushed himself to his feet but a hand caught his wrist.
“Your hands are shaking, darling. There is no way you can stitch yourself up like that,” Eames said.
“And you're on painkillers so I'm not letting you anywhere near me with something sharp,” the point man said and he tried to pull his wrist free but Eames tightened his grip.
“Arthur.” His voice was steady and serious. Arthur blinked back surprise; Eames rarely addressed him by name. “You can trust me. Sit down and let me help. You did just save my life. The least you can let me do is stitch up your bloody arm.” The forger did not wait for a reply; instead he yanked on Arthur's wrist and pulled him down to the edge of the cot. Very carefully Eames moved so he was sitting up and placed a hand on the injured arm. “Take off your jacket,” he ordered and for some reason Arthur did not argue. He shrugged off his jacket and Eames ripped open the sleeve of his dress shirt. Arthur clenched his fists tightly when he felt a thumb touch the wound on his arm. “Do you want any drugs too?”
“No, I'll be fine, just hurry up,” Arthur said. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Eames nod and the point man tried to detach himself completely as he felt the needle sink into his skin. Arthur evened out his breathing and focused on anything but the pain in his arm. It was not the lack of needle in his arm that brought him back from his own head but fingertips on his cheek. Arthur opened his eyes and found that Eames was mere inches away. “You're in my bubble again.”
“Thank you, Arthur,” he said but did not move away.
“You would have done the same for me,” Arthur replied and did not realize how much he believed that until he said it out loud.
“Well I need to get some rest, darling, and something tells me you should too,” Eames said as he eased himself back onto the cot. “I think I'll stay here though. As much as I appreciate the gesture I really don't want you to stitch me up again.”
“Noted,” Arthur said with a half smile. He stood up and looked down at the forger lying on the dirty cot. Eames was still too pale and the color made him nervous. “I think I'll stay too. I didn't go through all of that work for you to die afterward.”
“God forbid you waste your time,” Eames said grinning and Arthur had to smile back. He turned to gather some belongings when he felt a hand on his forearm again. “Eames, what is it--” but before he could finish the forger pulled him down so that he fell, quite painfully, to his knees in front of the cot. Arthur was about to chastise Eames for being so inconsiderate when two hands snaked through his hair and pulled him in for a kiss. The forger's lips were soft and warm and there was the metallic taste of blood from his injuries. When Eames pulled away Arthur was struck so dumb that he had no idea what to do. “Lie down and rest, darling. I think we've had a bit of a busy day.” The point man nodded and stood to lie down on the cot a foot or so away. Arthur closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing, even out his heartbeat, until exhaustion took over and he fell asleep.
The next morning Cobb screamed at both of them when he saw their injuries. Arthur tried to explain that they were both all right but that the job was more than likely compromised. “We should pull out while we still have the chance.”
“Fine, I guess that seems like the most logical thing to do,” Cobb grumbled.
“Oh I think it's more than logical, don't you agree?” the forger asked and he met Arthur's eyes. The point man nodded and Eames grinned. “Then let us take our leave, darling.” Arthur began to gather his things but did not correct Eames when he called him 'darling.'