I own nothing. Except theories.
Ariadne wasn't gonna lie; she held a lot of respect for her teammates. Each one was so unique. Each man was focused and prepared and almost glowing with their fierce determination and commitment to the mission. It was almost blinding. But out of the all Inception team members, Arthur was who she thought to be the epitome of these qualities. Every detail and every corner of their plan had been oiled and refined by his feedback, and every aspect of their mission had been so carefully inspected, so meticulously observed that it was hard to just ignore his brilliance.
…Which is why she had to wonder why Eames would constantly heckle him.
The warehouse was unusually quiet that evening. Cobb and Arthur had left in the early afternoon, and Eames was helping Ariadne with her mazes and labyrinths. She liked Eames: he was cheerful, full of positive attitude and always tried to make her laugh. He was like that with everyone, except for Arthur. She knew he was an intelligent man; he wouldn't gripe and whine without a reason. And it made no sense to try and arouse frustration from the seemingly unmovable point man. Arthur appeared to be a man of calculations and assured confidence. Why would Eames take such pleasure in trying to annoy him?
And so, when the architect and forger left the warehouse late in the night, she asked him.
He had stopped his stride toward his unnecessarily fancy car and looked at her curiously, as if he wondered if she was joking. She put on her most seriously curious face she could manage. His lip twitched in a smirk of approval as he turned to face her completely.
"Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
He chuckled, a jolly and comfortable sound to Ariadne's ears.
"I've known that stiff bastard for a long time," Eames said as the nightly wind blew past them, "and ever since that first day we were introduced, he's had that cold façade. At first I thought he was being professional, focused on the job, but then I realized he's like that all the time. And that seriously bugs me."
Ariadne quirked an eyebrow at him in disbelief. "It bugs you?"
"It's just so robotic. Like a statue. It's so ridiculous how much of a stick-in-the-mud he is, it's hilarious. So I picked up a habit of making him the butt of my jokes. Just to try and get a rise out of him." Ariadne was still skeptical, and she was becoming cold. "But he doesn't even retaliate. He only gives you a sour look or something. It doesn't accomplish anything." Eames smiled at her with a half grin, his eyebrows giving away his carefree mood, despite the slightly serious conversation.
"When you know him long enough, you'll come to understand that he may seem all high and tight all the time, but things really bug him sometimes. He is very emotional. He's just good at hiding it, brushing things off as if nothing bothers him. But that is the true façade. I continue to badger him because I enjoy seeing him writhe on the inside whilst trying to look unabashed." He looked at his watch, indicating he had no intention of further explain anything. Ariadne was more than just disappointed. "Better get home, love," the man said jovially, making his way toward his vehicle. She herself began to make her way to her own car, lips pouted as she processed what Eames said.
She could see her image of Arthur morphing into a new image. She had thought him a pillar of stone, unable to be breached or bent or broken. But perhaps he was instead made of glass, easily cracked and unceasingly deceptive. She dug for her keys in her purse, until she heard a car roll up beside her. She turned to see Eames right behind her, comfortably in his leather driving sat in his fancy car. She always had the urge to smudge his door or bumper with a little bit of dirt. That's how real cars looked.
"Just so you know, love," he said, rolling with window down all the way, "I'm sure provocation from a certain architect on our team would really send him spinning. I also heard from Cobb he hasn't had a proper date in years." Eames winked devilishly at her in a suggestive manner, and Ariadne's first instinct was to scowl at him deeply, giving him clear indication that THAT was NOT funny. His smirk grew wider as he rolled up his window and drove off, leaving her to get into her car, mumbling to herself about Eames' stupid ideas.
But that didn't mean she wasn't going to try out said ideas as well. After all, Arthur was a glass column, filled with mazes of unknown traps and trickeries. As an architect, it was her job to recreate and unravel them, right?
