She'd been looking at him all day. Eames had noticed almost immediately. He'd noticed her sly smiles as she tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. He'd been eighteen at the time, and at his first year in college. She was seventeen and in the same course as him. At the time he hadn't yet been to war, nor had he descended into gambling, forgery and criminal antics. That was after.
After that night in her dorm room, after he'd disappeared in the morning, knowing that he couldn't get attached, that it was what he wanted.
To tell the truth he hadn't thought of her since, not for 16 years. He'd dropped out of college the next semester. He'd joined the army in the next 5 months. She hadn't followed him. He didn't contact her, and she didn't contact him. Eames was happy. He didn't want or need attachment.
But now, sitting in the warehouse, trying to concentrate on the subject's grandfather, all he could think about was Alice Cook.
It was his damn subconscious. Last night he'd dreamt. Not with the PASIV, but had actually dreamt. At first he was surprised, he didn't realise that he still had the ability to dream. Then, when he decided to take advantage of his lucid dream, she had appeared. Like that night, it started with her laughter.
He was about to decide whether he wanted a blonde or a brunette when he heard it, a laughter that was soft and gentle and was carried on the wind.
In an instant he was on that same dark pathway, walking slowly as she ran ahead, her laughter drifting back towards him.
It flashed forward to her room, and the hasty removal of clothing. He was like a spectator in his own body, not controlling the events, but rather watching them again. Helpless, like a child he watched as she lay beneath him, chest heaving, head tilted backward.
Again he was flashed forward to the morning, her long dark hair splayed out around her head like a halo; light from in-between the shutters illuminating her face. He pulled on his jeans and shirt, and shoes and jacket in hand he tiptoed out the door, a note reading 'Thanks' left on the small kitchen table.
Now, rather than practicing the mannerisms of Cordelia Bauche's grandfather he was thinking about Alice. Unlike his other one night stands she hadn't begged him for more. She hadn't chased after him or acted like a desperate whore. She had ignored him as much as he'd ignored her. All he knew was that she'd dropped out a few months after him. What had happened to her? He didn't know. He didn't care until the night before.
The worried look on his face was bad enough for the others to notice.
"Something wrong Eames?" Arthur had asked smugly.
"Eames, are you alright?" Ariadne had enquired.
"Why the fuck aren't you working Eames?" Cobb had contributed.
Eames, had made numerous attempts to concentrate, but had failed each and every time.
At around lunch time Eames was about to get into the rhythm.
"Eames, come take a look at this," Cobb stated stiffly, gesturing for Eames to follow him to the security cam.
The others were all crowded around, looking at the screen with intensity like he had never seen before.
"How did she get this address?"
"Isn't the building marked as unoccupied?"
"Eames do you know who that is?" Cobb asked, pointing at a woman standing at the door to the warehouse. She had short, dark hair, a slender frame and was standing impatiently, pressing the buzzer for the warehouse every few seconds.
"She, looks familiar, but I'm not sure," Eames said, frowning slightly, trying to recall where and when he had seen the woman before.
"Eames if this is your problem then you have to go deal with it," Arthur instructed.
Arthur had always loved bossing Eames around. Eames assumed it was because he was constantly teasing Arthur, taunting him with empty throws of words like "darling" and other endearments he was so prone to using.
"I'm not promising anything," he grumbled, making his way towards the stairs. "She looks mad enough to rip someone's head off right now,"
Eames opened the door slightly.
"Hello, can I help you?" he asked suavely, getting a proper look at the woman. Her hair was a dark brown, and she had one or two grey hairs peeking out. Her features were soft, and gentle, and her eyes were wide and bright, her lips full and pale pink in colour. However, looking closely Eames could see wrinkles starting to form on her brow, though she only looked slightly younger than him. Eames was thinking that probably he'd slept with her sister or something like that.
"Yes, I do believe you can help me Mr Eames," she replied coldly, blue eyes blazing.
At the sound of her voice Eames's spine tingled. Looking closer he saw that if she'd had no wrinkles, longer hair and was 16 years younger he would have recognised her instantly. Standing in front of him was a now 32 year old Alice Cook.
"Alice?" he asked, opening the door some more so he could get a better look at her. She was wearing a loose brown shirt and jeans, very different to the vibrant colours and lycra she'd worn at college.
"It's good to see you," he said simply, not quite sure of what was appropriate to say.
"Look Eames, I'm not here for chitchat, can we go somewhere your colleagues can't see us on the security camera?" she asked seriously.
Eames frowned, and instead angled the security cam so it was now facing the wall.
"Here's good," he replied casually.
Eames observed how she opened and shut her mouth slightly before speaking, a habit she hadn't had 16 years ago. He'd always been good at picking up mannerisms and quirks, and all the signs, from the bags under her eyes that were poorly concealed and the way she crossed her arms across her chest told him one thing: she was tired. Very tired.
"I need a favour," she said, placing her hands on her hips.
"What sort of favour?" Eames asked suggestively, leaning on the wall.
Alice took a big step back before continuing. "Not that sort of favour. I learnt my lesson last time,"
Eames backed away and nodded.
"Ok then, what?" he asked. "Money? A place to stay?"
Alice paused, glancing at the ground then at the dingy little car that was parked by the building.
"Sweetie, you can come out now," she called out to the car.
Eames watched carefully as the car door opened. Out slouched a sullen looking teenager who glared at Alice then at Eames.
"Mom, why are we even here?" he whined, towering over her.
"Jason, please, I asked you to behave," she instructed, placing a hand on her forehead.
"What are we doing here, who is this guy?" he groaned, sizing Eames up.
The kid was only a few inches shorter than Eames, and was a full head taller than Alice. His hair was a light brown that flopped messily into his eyes. He looked to be about 15, and was wearing tight black jeans and a black and red hoodie with a giant pocket at the front that he had tucked his hands into. His face was contorted into a permanent scowl.
In short, Eames was instantly annoyed by him.
"He's... an old associate," Alice replied, carefully choosing her words.
Eames snickered at this, which earned him an icy glare from Alice.
"What exactly do you need me to do?" Eames asked, getting annoyed very quickly at the kid's attitude.
"I lost my job in San Francisco on Monday. Our apartment got repossessed on Tuesday. I came here to look for a job and a place to stay, but he's been warned by the police three times already and I've been told that I can't leave him alone," Alice explained wearily.
"What exactly was he warned for?" Eames asked, not wanting to draw the attention of the police to him and the rest of the team.
"Defecation of public property," the kid replied, smirking as though he was proud of it.
"He's been caught spraying walls a bunch of times, and they've said that if he does it again then he's going to juvie," Alice added.
"And you want me to..." Eames trailed off, waiting for Alice to finish the sentence.
"I need you to keep an eye on him while I look for a job and a place for us to stay," she said, eyes silently pleading with Eames.
"Look Alice, I'd love to help, but I just don't have time to be a babysitter," Eames replied, starting to close the door on them.
The kid caught the door and grabbed Eames's collar.
"Look buddy, nobody speaks to my mom like that, got it?" he hissed.
Eames pushed the kid away from him and backed away.
Alice grabbed his arm and placed him behind her, turning back to Eames she took a step forward.
"Look Eames, his father left before he was born. I just need you to stick him in a room and make sure he doesn't escape," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and thumb. "Please"
Eames groaned. "Can't you find someone else? I'm in the middle of something really important right now,"
Alice paused now, looking at the ground.
"There is no one else," she murmured almost inaudibly.
Eames shut his eyes, knowing the verbal beating he would get from Cobb, the smug look he would get from Arthur.
"How long?" he asked.
"A week at most," Alice replied.
Eames drummed his fingers on his forearm.
"Fine, but no longer than a week, after that I can't take care of him," he stated.
Alice nodded, and turned to the kid, pulling him a few metres away.
Eames heard snippets of "be good" and "don't rebel" before Alice led him back towards Eames.
"Thank you Eames, I won't forget this," she said as the kid slouched unhappily past Eames.
"Neither will I," he muttered as he closed the door.