Arthur's Christmas Eve used to run like clockwork. It was It's A Wonderful Life at 7:30 sharp—complete with eggnog. The movie always finished at 9:40, leaving him plenty of time to dress in his best three-piece suit and make his way to church for the midnight service—which, coincidentally, always started at 10:30.
Arthur wasn't really a consistent churchgoer. The only time he was consistent about it was on Christmas Eve. He always remembered his mother bundling him up in his little three-piece suit and his sister in her best velvet dress and taking them to church for the midnight service. His family was long out of the picture—all of them believing that he was killed by a roadside bomb during his time in the military—but the tradition remained.
He used to sit in church and listen to the story he had heard a thousand times in his lifetime and quietly sing the hymns from his childhood. He would listen as the clock struck midnight while they stood in the darkness with their lit candles and sang "Silent Night." After all was said and done, he would leave and go home by himself.
And then Eames turned up with his bad tweed suits and paisley shirts and his pocket watch.
The first Christmas they spent together, the movie started at 7:45 because Eames had to go for eggnog.
"We're going to be late," Arthur had hissed.
Eames pulled out his pocket watch. "There's plenty of time by my watch," he replied with a grin that warmed Arthur to his toes.
The second year, there was no eggnog and the movie didn't start until 8. They barely made it to the church, and had to sneak in the back and take the last two seats on the back row. The dirty looks they got from other parishioners didn't help things either.
"I told you we were going to be late," Arthur had whispered, though there was no real fury in his voice.
Eames patted his pocket where the watch lay hidden. "Plenty of time," he replied with a grin too warm to be appropriate for church.
The third Christmas Eve, Arthur misses most of the movie because he's tearing off Eames clothes. The dreaded pocket watch falls to the ground with a clatter. Afterwards, they basked in the afterglow until Arthur glances down at Eames' watch.
It's broken—the face is scratched, the hands won't move, and the cogs are stopped. It had hit the ground quite hard and Arthur can't help but wonder if he's the reason the hands aren't moving.
"Don't worry about it, darling," Eames tells him with a smile. "Now, let's get you to the church on time."
They were still late—walking in during the second hymn—and still got dirty looks from the other parishioners.
This year, with Eames' hand in his, he didn't care.