Eames was sitting in his favorite bar, a small pub in London, one of the dark crowded places, that never got very loud, but had a pleasant hum. He wondered what he was doing there, with girls hitting on him and men glowering at him, because all the girls flocked to him, and he didn' even have to buy them a drink to win their hearts.
He drained his third beer and left, stepping out onto the London street, an alley really. He hailed a cab -not that he was drunk, he could easily have five beers and keep his head on strait... well strait enough to knock off a few other heads anyways- and went back to his apartment, wondering vaguely what the rest of the team was doing.
He wondered if Arthur had gotten it together and asked Ariadne out on a date yet, damn, those two would be bloody cute. If they just got it together.
Eames let his head rest against the cool glass window, it had started to drizzle, and the drops of water ran diagonally down the window.
He thought about Cobb, and his kids, he had met them once, before Mal went loco. Philipa might have been old enough to remember him, maybe.
He wondered if Cobb ever planed on dreaming again, it wasn't likely, but dreaming was addictive.
Yusuf, now he was a good guy. He should toss him a line; see how it was going, if he had given up his potions yet. Eames doubted it, Yusuf liked his work, but perhaps he had actually done something with his cut. Cobb's cut Eames corrected his thoughts.
Saito... Saito, he was complicated, quiet. Professional, smart, good at what he did. Eames had never quite figured him out, which bothered him a little; he was supposed to know people. Saito was ruthless, he decided, yes, ruthless described him well.
When the cab arrived at his apartment, he cursed the rain, which was now coming down in torrents.
He gave the cabbie a big tip.