Thanatos

It was an early Monday morning when Eames and Mal had only spilled out of the wine bar because their glasses were physically wrenched out of their hands.

Even in their drunk state as they stumbled down the streets of the city, they looked striking.

Mal had poured herself into a scarlet top and a pair of tight jeans and encrusting her feet were a pair of jewelled sandals that Dom had bought her and had cost him a whole weeks wage. Her make-up that she had painstakingly applied had faded back to naturalness and her long hair tumbled around her face and past her shoulders in loose curls.

Eames donned a pale lilac shirt that was a missing top button and exposed his golden chest, along with charcoal cords and bowling shoes. His hair had been razored down and a subtle hit of a beard sprouted out all over the lower half on his face, making his eyes more prominent and his cheekbones more defined.

Miraculously, they had managed to get back to Mal and Cobb's apartment without getting knocked down by a vehicle and still feeling bitter from the injustice of being kicked out of the bar, Mal had rooted around in the kitchen for some wine.

Eames had barely reached the doors of the balcony before his legs turned to rubber and he'd fallen flat on his face and burst out in a silent laughing fit. He had to be quiet because somehow his swimming mind had reminded him that Dom was sleeping off the flu.

An hour later, Eames was propped up against the railings with Mal at the other end of the balcony. Both their legs were stretched out along side each other.

"You looked great," said Eames, a smile sparking up on his face. Mal had been dressing more casually since she had moved in with Dom and had been criticising herself for the last few minutes. "You know it."

"Shame about you though," she teased and pointed at his shirt. "What exactly do you call that?"

"I'll have you know that this is very classic, thank you."

"And the shoes," she said as if she hadn't heard him. "Where did you get them from?

"Shoe shop."

"They look like bowling shoes."

"Really?" said Eames in disbelief, looked down at his feet. "I hadn't noticed." He looked up to Mal, grinning. She had raised her eyebrow imperiously. "They are actually bowling shoes. I used to work in a bowling alley."

"Oh?"

Eames nodded. "And I thought… 'I'll nick them.'"

Loud breathy giggles erupted from Mal. Eames took a gulp from the bottle and grimaced because it was too sweet. He leaned forward to her and passed it over.

Eames lets out a long sigh. "You know…all I need is your little tin solider to get hit by a bus and I can die happy."

Mal rose her leg in the air and brought it down on his. It didn't hurt.

"Ow."

"Leave Arthur alone," she said firmly, shifting her leg off his.

"I'd do it meself if I had a car," he slurs with a chuckle. "And then I'd come back here and me and you could go for a running jump."

Mal takes a gulp of wine. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Everyone wants to jump when they get to a high height. The, erm, I know this…we all desire to return life back to an intimate…inanimate state."

"Crap." She passes the bottle back to Eames.

"No, no, no, no, no,… we have two primal instincts, Eros and…the bad one…" Eames starts clicking his fingers, willing himself to remember. "Destructiveness and it they had their own way, we'd be going around killing and screwing each other all the time."

"Really?"

Eames nods, taking a small swig and passing the bottle back to Mal. "Mmmmn. The pleasure and death principles are interlinked. You see it with kiddies when playing superhero. They put themselves in distressing situations because…deep down…" Eames placed his hand on his heart and said softly, " We all want to be saved."

Eames gave her a wistful look and Mal shook her head. She took another gulp of wine and settled the bottle on the floor.

"You don't believe me?"

"No."

Eames dragged himself up on to his feet. "Come on, up. I'll prove it to you. "

Mal moaned. "I don't think I can."

Eames stretched out his hand. "Come on, you silly tart, up!" She put her hand in his hand and let him pull her up.

"Right, go on, lean over." Eames looped two of his fingers through Mal's back trouser loop. "I won't let go."

She bent herself over the edge, the metal railings digging into her stomach and she watched a few cars speed around like colourful ants.

"We're so high," she said as if she had never realised before.

"It's a rush, right?"

"Mmmm," she agreed distantly. "It's nice."

"When you land…bet it's like walnut cracking and a bucket full of blood."

Mal wasn't really listening. She was caught up with the vertigo, dizzy and strangely at peace as the wind caused her hair to tickle her cheeks and her sea-blue eyes to water slightly. She wasn't frightened. She felt like she belonged there and if she just stretched out a little further, she would be enveloped in bliss.

"Make a right mess, it would, but if we went a bit lower," Eames said, inspecting the ground below. "Third floor maybe and landed on that bit of grass…We'd be okay.

His voice has grounded her and Mal smiles softly, her eyes creasing at their edges. "Imagine the obituary photos."

Eames unhooks his fingers as she pushes herself up. Her eyes glance over Eames incredulous face and she starts laughing and it shakes her whole body. Her laugh is infectious and Eames manages to say, "We'd be gorgeous."

Their laughing gets louder and louder and Mal stuttered out, "We'd be eternally young."

Through his own hysterics, Eames gets out the words, "You...with that smile you get as if you have stealing biscuits."

Cackling, she took up Eames' thick, trembling bottom lip with her fingers and tugged slightly.

"Ah-ah! Mal!"

"And you, with your lips…."

They collapsed on to one another, trying to support each other so they didn't drop the ground but their legs gave way. Eames collapsed on to his back and Mal pushed herself against the railings so she could remain sitting.

They didn't even notice Dom slide open the balcony door.

"I'm so pleased to see you two made it back," he said in a pleasant but bunged up voice.

Mal and Eames looked at Dom, who is smiling. He was in a black t-shirt and black sweatpants. His skin looked slightly grey in the city lights and he had dark circles under his eyes. His cheek-length gold hair was slicked back with sweat.

"Hello, mon amour," said Mal gently. "Have you missed me?"

"Yeah, you all right, darling?" Eames and Mal simultaneously burst out into a frenzy of hissy giggles.

Dom chuckled. "I came to make sure you two weren't having a seizure."

"No, no," slurred Eames. "We just having two friends have a little chat, aren't we?"

"We're going to jump." Mal said airily and she jabbed her finger at the city. "Off there."

Dom smirked and gave her pointed look. "Not in those shoes."

Mal's lips coiled up cheekily and they stared at each other for a few moments.

"Oh, Dom, Dom," Eames said rapidly on Cobb's bare feet. Dom glanced down. "You should have seen how many men tried it on with Mal tonight."

Even Cobb wasn't that even-tempered and he fixed a granite-like gaze on Mal as jealousy crept on his features and Mal stared at Eames coolly.

"Eames…" she warned.

"There were loads, weren't there, pet? One of them tried to snog her and everything but she went "Nooo, I've got a boyfriend."

Mal thumped her fist down on Eames' ankle. "Shut up."

Cobb started to smile again and he looked back to Eames. "Did she?"

"Yeah. She's fallen hard for you."

"Shut up!"

"She loves you!" shouted Eames, as Mal slowly started to crawl along side him. "She wants to marry you! She thinks you are lovely and half of her whole and funny and sexy and you've got…" Mal shoved her hand against Eames' lips, shuddering with giggles. "Duh geegist kenis ever! Is da foo, 'Om?"

"Why can't you shut up?" she screeched and Eames licked her palm. She let out a noise of disgusted and wrenched her hand away, muttering rapidly in French as she wiped it on his shirt as Eames chuckled.

With a look of suppressed amusement, Cobb said, "Eames, please do."

Dom then stepped over their bodies and picked up the bottle of wine. "I think you both have had enough of that." He picked it up and inspected it and looked at Mal. "Sweetheart, we cook with this."

"'Sweetheart,'" whispered Eames mockingly as Mal hid her face in Eames' neck.

"Keep it down, okay?" instructed Cobb.

Eames fired a smile of pure mischief and nodded. Mal turned and blew Dom a kiss as he retreated inwards.

After a few moments Eames hummed.

"What?"

"If we were to jump," he said slowly. "We'd have to first ask Cobb to watch our bodies so the mortician doesn't get a bit…you know..."

Eames stared at Mal, waiting for her to fill in the blanks.

She started laughing, repulsion curling up her nose and slapped her hand on his chest. "You are so wrong."

Smirking, Eames pushed himself and Mal up so they were sitting again.

"Anyway, I can't jump yet," she said with dreamy smile. "I told you the riddle he told me, didn't I?"

"Only a couple of thousand times."

Mal grinned and said knowingly, "You should tell it to Arthur."

Eames gave her a hard look and said bluntly. "Not funny."

"And then we can go on double-dates," she adds with a wicked smile.

Eames narrowed his eyes. "You realise that is the most heinous thing you have ever said, right?"

Mal giggled. After a moment, Eames rose to his feet and said seriously, "No, I'm sorry. I can't let that go."

She looked up at him, confused. "What?"

Eames walked around so he was behind her and he bent down. He quickly and tightly wrapped his arms around her waist and scooped her up.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" she squealed, wriggling around.

"Sorry, Mal," he said blithely, "but what you said is just unforgivable. So… I am gonna have to turn this into a murder-suicide thing. Right. One!"

He swung them both dramatically. Still laughing raucously, Mal kept her slender legs bent up so they didn't hit the railings.

"Two!" He swung them again.

"EAMES! NOOOOO!"

With another swing, "Two and a half!"

"WE'RE TOO HIGH UP!"

Eames did a half swing and stopped. Mal turned her head to look at him with smugness ingrained on her face.

"What about our obituary photographs?" she asked innocently.

Eames twisted his lips comically. "You're right." He let out an irritated sigh. "Bugger."

Mal raised both her eyebrows at him and smiled. "Hmm."

They exploded back into hysterics, hardly able to breathe as the sunk slowly to the floor and into a mess of tangled limbs and they were in the same position when Dom came out again five minutes later with endless laughed polluting the night air and floating high up to the stars.

Eames can't sit still on the wooden steps of the porch that lead out into the Cobb Family backyard, which is crowded with a mass of people all wearing black. His body is hot underneath his black suit, white shirt and red tie because the sun is belting down and it's all unbearable.

He is replaying over and over that one memory of him and Mal being so out of their heads that they had joked about jumping off the balcony. It had been so funny. One of his most precious memories has become one his most hated. He is drenched in guilt because he blames himself for passing on the idea, even though the following morning Mal swore she couldn't remember most of that night.

A small body places itself next to him.

He turns his head and sees Phillipa. She is dressed in a knee length black dress and shiny patent black shoes. She has her hair tied back in a black ribbon and the colour is striking against her pale skin and blonde tresses. It brings out the blue in her eyes that she shared with her mother.

More sadness squirms at Eames' gut because no child should ever have to wear black and because such tragic misery should never hang on such a young face.

"Can I have some of your drink?" she asks quietly, pointing at Eames' wine glass that was half full with purple-red liquid.

Eames picks it up by the rim and passes it to her because it's just blackcurrant juice. He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol since Mal…

"You look very pretty," he says instantly and feels stupid.

Phillipa takes a sip of the drink. She holds on to the glass, lost in thought.

Eventually she passes Eames his drink she says softly, "I want my Mommy back."

Eames nods slowly and Phillipa slips her hand into Eames' paw and for a few moments, he is soothed.

They sit and sit and sit, watching the circus of grief, not really knowing what to do else to do but to hold on to each to stop themselves from falling apart.

AHHHHHHHHHH it's out tomorrow :D.

Thank you for reading. Feedback is always appreciated. Lots of hugs Tx

Disclaimer: I own zip.

Written for the Inception Kink.

Once, filled with happiness and amazingly good wine, they'd joked about jumping off the balcony together, because then their obituary photos would have to be of their gorgeous youth. They'd laughed so hard Cobb came in twice to make sure neither of them was having a seizure. Now, he doesn't find it so funny anymore.