Disclaimer: I definitely don't own it.
They're one week into planning the inception, something they still aren't sure is actually possible. Everyone is working like they don't need sleep, and they only eat when Ariadne pushes food in front of them. Even the forger, who has about one quarter of Arthur's work ethic, as far as she can tell, is immersed in the job. She thinks he's the most interesting of their bizarre group, if only for the fact that she's having difficultly reading him. She knows certain things about the man, either from observation or from asking Arthur, but she gets the feeling that Eames puts up a façade most of the time. He's like a puzzle that needs to be solved. When she had mentioned that to Arthur, his expression could only be described as a mix between confusion and disgust.
Finally, she catches Eames alone. He's taking off his suit jacket and loosening his tie, back from another day of observing Browning. Scrubbing a hand over his face, the man plops down into a swivel chair with an exaggerated sigh.
Ariadne casually walks over to him and sits in the chair adjacent to his own. Never having talked to him one-on-one before, she's a bit nervous, even though she's usually such an outgoing person. There's just something about him that makes her feel like it's dangerous to be alone with him. But she doesn't think Cobb would bring that kind of person into the team. Or, at least, Arthur would have given her some kind of warning.
In the time it takes her to say "hello," he's already looking at her with mild interest. She offers a weak smile, beginning to feel on edge under his stare.
Then he blinks rapidly and sits up straighter. "Sorry. I have a habit of studying people."
"Because of what you do," she says lamely
Eames flashes her a smile. "Or it's the other way around. Tell me, did Cobb really find you at a college?"
Suddenly, Ariadne is beginning to relax, as though he had just flicked a switch. There's something about the look in his eyes, the way he's sitting with his hands folded in his lap—like he's mocking Arthur when he's not even present—that makes her feel like they're old friends. Now she understands what Arthur meant by Eames being a charmer, even though he had said that sarcastically.
"I don't know if I'd say he 'found' me. My professor recommended me to him."
He nods thoughtfully before saying, "So you really are as young as you look. Trust Cobb to bring in jailbait."
"Hey! I'm twenty-two. I hardly count as jailbait."
Eames just laughs. It's such a carefree sound that Ariadne has to grin. She can't imagine being nervous only minutes ago. Turning her chair so that she's facing him, she asks, "How long have you been a forger?"
He looks up at the ceiling, presumably counting the years in his head by the way his lips are moving. "About nine years, but that's all I'll say." His eyes are back on hers, a playfulness shining in them. "I like to keep an air of mystery."
Ariadne is disappointed, but she figures she can ask again some other time, perhaps when he's more comfortable around her. Although, she has a feeling that Eames is one tough safe to crack, so it'll take all her skills as a busybody to get what she wants out of him. She still wants to know about the world of dream sharing from his perspective, so for now, she thinks that subject is a harmless one. Leaning forward, Ariadne lowers her voice as though they're discussing something scandalous, being playful right back at him. "What's it like being in someone else's skin? Is it something you enjoy doing?"
Chuckling, he cocks his head to the side. "I wouldn't keep doing it if I didn't find it enjoyable. But as for being in someone else's skin, well, that's hard to describe. Depending on the job, it can be a bit thrilling."
"Can anyone learn how to forge?"
He frowns, almost looking hurt. "If that was the case, that wouldn't make me very needed." Then he leans forward, mimicking how Ariadne's sitting. "It takes a certain level of concentration to not only get the image but to keep it as well. It takes imagination, too, which is why I've never bothered training Arthur."
"Did he ask to be?"
"No, Cobb asked if I would years ago."
Deciding to take the conversation in a serious direction, Ariadne asks what she's been wanting to ask since being introduced to this business. She's just been too afraid of what Cobb's or Arthur's reaction would be to such a question. With Eames, she suspects he'll give an honest answer. Sitting up straight, she asks quietly, "What is it like to die over and over again?"
His face goes blank almost instantly. Ariadne looks for anything that might betray emotion, but he has an ideal poker face, which she finds confusing. She had heard he's a frequent gambler, but a lousy one. With the expressionless face staring back at her now, she thinks it must be a case of not knowing when to quit. Or just bad luck.
A few minutes pass, and Ariadne is starting to feel uneasy, fidgeting a bit in her seat. But then he finally breaks the silence.
"It's something you get used to after years of experiencing it," he says evenly. Gradually, his facial muscles relax, and a look of calm sadness enters his eyes. "It'll bother you, if you let it. What's worse is having to kill others. Sometimes it's necessary, and even though it's not real, it's still utterly disturbing."
Ariadne gets the feeling that Eames isn't talking about killing projections. She's never thought about having to kill her teammates. It's not like she carries a gun in the dreams, but she knows there are other ways of being merciful. She has enough tact to not question him any further on the topic. Although, with the way his eyes keep darting to Arthur's desk, she has a pretty good idea of whose countless deaths are on his mind.
Wanting to take his mind off of it, she stands and grabs her bag, fishing around in it until she finds the small paper bag within. Settling back into the chair, she holds out her hand, offering a muffin. "You probably haven't eaten in a while."
Ariadne thinks it's fascinating how quickly Eames can change his expression. His face lights up upon seeing the treat, and he takes it without hesitation. She has to stifle a laugh at how excited he is over a muffin.
"You're such a sweetheart," he says before taking a large bite.
She takes a bite of her own muffin, and they eat in comfortable silence. Soon after, Arthur walks in, carrying three stuffed folders, his laptop case slung over his shoulder. He eyes them suspiciously as he makes his way to his desk.
"Hello, Arthur," Eames greets with much enthusiasm, licking his fingers.
After setting everything down, he turns to Ariadne, even though he's addressing Eames. "What are you doing to her?"
Eames chuckles and leans back in his chair, slouching with his legs spread, a posture Ariadne now realizes he adopts only when Arthur is present. "Nothing, of course. We were just having a chat. She's a lovely girl." He beams at her in such a way that she almost blushes.
"Stop it. You're frightening her," he replies bluntly.
"No, he's not," Ariadne insists. "I like him. He's interesting."
Arthur stares at her in obvious shock. Then he looks at Eames and narrows his eyes. "You've brainwashed her, haven't you?"
Eames is now laughing so hard that he's doubled over. Once he calms down, he stands and gives Ariadne a gentle pat on the back. "Thank you. You're rather interesting yourself. I think we'll become the best of friends." He says that last part while looking at Arthur, probably attempting to get under his skin.
And it seems to be working. Arthur glares at the man, then sits down roughly in his chair. As he takes his computer out, he warns, "Just don't try to corrupt her."
Ariadne hates it when people talk about her like she's not in the room. It makes her feel like a child. She's about to reprimand them for it, but Eames cuts in just as she takes a breath.
"I would never do such a thing." He saunters over to Arthur's desk, leaning against the edge.
"But I was fair game?"
He shrugs, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "I couldn't resist."
Arthur doesn't respond, just continues to glare at him while he opens his laptop, turning it on without breaking eye contact. But the intensity of his glare soon wanes, and he lets out sigh as he turns his attention to Ariadne. "Just tell me when he starts bothering you. I know how to handle him."
Eames frowns, but his eyes are laughing.
"I'll be fine, Arthur."
She suddenly feels like she has an older brother who's threatening her boyfriend. Be home by 10:00, and if he tries to get his hand up your dress, I'll make him sterile. Ariadne now realizes that the dynamic of Cobb's team is strange one. She doesn't mind it in the least, though. These are the most fascinating people she's ever met.
Eames walks to Arthur's other side, stretching his arms above his head. "Well, I'd love to continue this, but I haven't gotten much natural sleep in the last few days. Can't start dozing when I'm supposed to be Browning watching. See you later, Arthur." The younger man ducks too late as Eames flicks a lock of hair out of place. "It was a pleasure talking with you, Ariadne." With a flourish, he takes her hand and kisses it, making her think of British royalty. She would be blushing if she hadn't already realized Eames only did that to annoy Arthur.
Once Eames has left, Ariadne looks around the warehouse and smiles. Even with Cobb's inner turmoil, there is nothing that could convince her this isn't where she should be.