Inception
.Steal
"Cobb, why do we even need a forger?" Arthur checked his watch, affirming this man was late. The cobbled road outside the bookstore, littered with newspapers, half-smoked cigarettes, and all sorts of other loveliness, gave Arthur a distinct impression of the man they were meeting, and Arthur did not like it. Cobb grinned a weak grin. The young man was a good architect, but he was still impatient and headstrong, almost as bad as the impulsive student he'd been before Cobb corrupted him a few years back.
"Gaining the subject's trust is lot easier if you already have it. It can help us get information before alerting the projections." Cobb watched Arthur kick a rock as he grimaced. "Arthur, he'll show up. Anyway, I expected him to be late. It's like him." As though summoned, Cobb's new partner strode around a corner. Arthur glared at the unshaven man as a teacher stares at a rowdy pupil, despite the fact Arthur was clearly younger. The man ignored him.
"Arthur, this is Eames. Arthur is my partner," Eames looked the young man over, watching him bristle up at the gaze, mistaking it for a condescending gesture. Eames motioned the pair to follow him into the book store. The maze of shelves made Arthur uneasy, and he fingered his totem to anchor his presence in reality. Cobb and Eames began talking about the details of the job, Arthur scanned a nearby shelf, finding a collection of the work of M.C. Escher. Sliding the book out carefully, he flipped through the pages of impossible structures, evolving patterns, and optical illusions. He loved Escher, and had posters of the bizarre illustrations in his room at his parent's house before he moved out.
"Hey, Squirt," an unfamiliar voice behind him made Arthur jolt and spin around gracelessly, causing Eames to double over laughing. Arthur reddened from his collar to his hairline. He was not going to like Eames. At. All.
As Eames trained, however, it became clear to Arthur that to hate the forger would defy nature. Not that he was his new best friend forever, but a man like Eames couldn't be despised unless he wished to be. He pushed his buttons, but Arthur never really hated him. Cobb ranked him well at the training he would need to project the appearance of another in the dream. As the job drew closer, Cobb asked Arthur to dream share with him.
"I'd like to have a word with Arthur," he turned to Eames, "…in private. You don't mind, do you?"
"Not at all," Arthur watched Eames out of the corner of his eye. Arthur wasn't sure how he felt being vulnerable with Eames to watch him. Partially because the man had poured himself a drink at three in the afternoon, but mainly because he didn't quite trust him yet. He inserted the needle in his wrist anyway, hoping Cobb knew what he was doing.
Walking through the halls of an urban office, Arthur saw Cobb come from around a corner to join him.
"You ready for this job?" Cobb started the conversation.
"Yeah, of course. Are you worried?" Arthur fidgeted with the hem of his sleeves nervously.
"Not about you." Cobb smiled before segueing into his next question, "What do you think about Eames?"
"Personally, or professionally?"
"Any problems that will interfere with your performance? Cause you better tell me now so we can work it out."
"I'm just not sure we can trust someone who lies for a living, Cobb."
"Seems the thief is calling the forger black, eh?"
"Guess you're right, but let the record show that I do not like this."
"Do you not think he's up for the job?" Cobb stopped to lean against a mirrored wall. Arthur groaned.
"He can do it. He's just…" Arthur grimaced trying to find the right before settling on, "Obnoxious." He sighed, resting his head in his hand. "Do NOT tell him this, but he's probably the best, with his charisma."
"Artie, you're a peach." Arthur looked up slowly, petrified at Cobb's reflection. It wasn't Cobb's reflection at all.
"EAMES!"