"Not to interrupt, darling," Eames said with a smile, "but I want to know if you've thought about my proposal."
Arthur glared at him. "Eames, we don't have time for this. The mark's subconscious has been militarized, all right? We have to prepare for…"
Eames interrupted again, provoking hidden smiles on everyone's faces. "No, of course, love, I know. But I need to get an answer from you so that I can plan accordingly."
"Fine." Arthur balanced his chair back on two legs. "No, Eames, I will not wear a matching costume with you to Ariadne's party." He looked around the room. "Are we done here? Can we get back to business?"
Eames shrugged. "That's fine, darling. I won't waste the money on a rental, then."
Arthur heaved a sigh and set his chair back on all fours. He leaned over to Eames and whispered, "Are you upset now?" Eames shook his head, and Arthur resumed his lecture on combating a militarized subconscious.
—-
"Arthur!" Ariadne called. "Hey, wait up!"
He waited for Ariadne to join him, then kept walking toward his car. "Where's Eames?" she asked.
"I don't know. Wherever he goes to pout, I suppose."
"You should come in a matching costume. It's what couples do on Halloween, man."
"We're not a — "
"Oh, shut up. You're practically living together."
Arthur heaved a sigh. "So. You think I should not only wear a Halloween costume, which I don't do, but also dress to match Eames? The man who would happily wear pink paisley and roll up his sleeves all day, every day?"
Ariadne nodded. "Yep."
"Well, I'm not going to do it. Eames probably wants to dress as salt and pepper, or Batman and Robin, or something ridiculous like that."
"So…then what are you coming as?"
He shrugged. "I'll figure something out."
—-
Ariadne was taking pictures. Everyone was drinking, loose and happy, and she wanted to document it. More often than not these days, they were all stressed and afraid of dying and tryng to do the near-impossible. It was nice to get proof that they were real people, too, who could laugh and have fun and be silly.
She got a good shot of Cobb as a boxer, trading fake punches with Yusuf's Dr. Horrible. Saito, dressed as Batman, had slipped out early, but not before she got a good shot of him drinking a beer. She herself was dressed as a Hogwarts student. Cobb, whose oldest had just started reading the books, had poked fun at her placing herself in Gryffindor. "Shouldn't you be a Ravenclaw?" he asked with an all-too-rare smile.
So she was busy arguing over her house when Eames and Arthur came in. They hadn't arrived together, apparently, because both seemed shocked to see the other. She didn't blame them.
Eames's hair was slicked back, smooth and shiny against his head. He was wearing a tight, fitted navy vest over a white button-down shirt. A tailored suit jacket, perfectly pressed slacks, and gleaming shoes completed the look. He had managed to find a tie exactly like Arthur's favorite blue silk. If he had been skinnier and dimpled, he would have been a dead ringer for Arthur.
At least, Arthur on a normal day. Tonight, though, Arthur wasn't himself at all. He wore an ill-fitting shirt with the collar open and the sleeves rolled up. Somewhere, he had managed to find a beat-up, baggy pair of pants and some scuffed shoes that didn't match. He had parted his hair on the side, and that change alone made him nearly unrecognizable.
The two men gaped in shock at the sight of each other. Then they, and the rest of the team, dissolved into laughter.