DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN INCEPTION.
Written, just because I've been wanting to write something about Eames for a long time. Hope you enjoy, and if you have time to drop by a review, I would be very grateful.
It was just after a job. Thursday afternoon. London, England.
Arthur still hadn't grown accustom to Eames' lifestyle yet (not that he ever planned to), and had taken great joy in the fact that the job was over, and that he and the Forger would go their seperate ways until the next job. Regardless of the love/hate -mostly hate- relationship between the two, Arthur always made sure that Eames was the number one Forger in any Extractor's book. They were the best duo in the buisness. Besides, now that Dom Cobb had retired from Extraction to finally watch his children grow up, Arthur needed a new project. And a certain British joke-cracking Forger was perfect.
Arthur didn't drink. Particularly not at three o' clock in the afternoon, but this job had been a particularly hard one. So when Eames suggested a quick celebratory beer at the local pub, he couldn't really deny. That lead them to where they were now. A place that Arthur would never thought he'd be. In a pub, on a Thursday afternoon, having a beer with Eames. It wasn't half bad.
Arthur watched the Forger as he took another swig from his second bottle. It was a lively place, with several people crowded around the corner televison, occasionally yelling or cheering for the nearest football score. Football, Arthur reminded himself, not soccer. A few scattered around a dart board on the other end of the room, and various other partrons talking, drinking and genuinely having a good time.
Sat opposite the Forger, Arthur had rolled his sleeves up and spent the last half hour or so, sipping at his beer. The most relaxed he'd felt in a long time. The Point Man persona did get tiring if he didn't have a break every once and again. After all, before he had become a Point Man, he was really just...Arthur. It was nice to re-visit that once in a while. Besides, every since the Extractor left to return being a father, Arthur had felt an overwhelming sense of control over himself, and the mask of professionalism he once wore religiously had slowly began to adapt to suit himself, rather than Cobb.
Arthur shook his head and let out a low chuckle. Eames looked up at his, questioningly.
"What's on your mind?" he asked, eyebrow quirked at the younger man.
Arthur shrugged, flicking the bottle cap from his beer one end of the table to the other. "I just don't get you, Eames."
"Not a lot of people do," Eames replied. He looked over his shoulder at the small television screen in the corner for a moment, before turning back, a sour look on his face.
"Money on the game?" Arthur asked. Of course, if there was money to be won, Eames would find a way to win it.
"Yep," he said, popping the 'p'. He turned back to Arthur, his eyes questioning. "So, what is it that you don't get?"
The younger man turned one corner of his mouth up, pairing it with a sigh. "Well...for starters, how come inbetween jobs, you're nowhere to be found, yet whenever you're needed, you come to us?" His voice was laced with genuine curiousity.
There was a silent gap before Eames let out a heavy sigh. "I'm always moving, Arthur. You know that. What about you? Where do you go when a job's finished?"
"Everywhere. I don't have...a place to go anymore."
"Maybe you should fix that before it's too late."
"Yeah, right. What am I going to do?"
"Well, a lady would be a nice start," Eames replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. Arthur frowned in return, his eyebrows creasing.
"My job is demanding, you know that. Where am I going to find a nice girl? And even then, how am I going to build anything that resembles a normal relationship?"
The Forger's eyes met Arthur's for a moment, wearing a sly smirk. "...What about the lovely Architect?"
Blinking, Arthur thought back to the last time he'd seen her. Her lovely, creative mind forever flowing with original and fascinating ideas. "Ariadne? No. We're work mates. That's unprofessional. Cobb would have thought it was a bad idea," he said, attempting to deny any and all implications.
Eames rolled his eyes. "Cobb isn't your boss anymore, Arthur. You are."
"He trained me from scratch. I take his word for everything, including office relationships."
"But there is an attraction between you and the young lady," Eames said, taking a sip of his cool beer. It was more a statement than anything else, as he wasn't the only person on the team who had noticed the sparks flying between the two young people.
"How do you figure that?" Arthur asked.
Eames sighed before letting his shoulders fall. "Well, it first became obvious on the Fischer job. The chemistry between the two of you was blinding. Speaking of professionalism, I doubt sneaking a kiss from the girl was very appropriate."
Half temped to slap the silly look off the Forger's face, Arthur took a quick breath and set his eyes straight. Perhaps if he gave nothing away, then Eames would think he was mistaken, and forget the whole thing. But instead, Eames simply met his stern look with a satisfied smirk. "I have eyes, Arthur. Everywhere. And of course, after that you insisted on hiring her for every job."
"She's talented," Arthur said, his eyebrow raised in defence.
"Then of course, there's the shameless flirting, the after work training, and the endless eye-fucking."
Arthur rolled his eyes, because only Eames could find the crudest way of putting it. "Ok, so maybe there's an attraction. But I would still never go for her."
"Why on earth not?" Eames asked, astonishment hidden in his voice.
Arthur turned silent for a moment, and Eames wondered if he had touched a sensitive subject for the younger man. Arthur stared hard at the wood of the table, close to burning holes. "...Because I could never give anyone a regular life. Nobody would want to follow me around, hotel hopping. It's not pleasant, nor is it safe."
Returning with a shrug, Eames twirled the bottle between his fingers. "Maybe you should settle down for a while," he suggested.
Arthur sighed heavily, his shoulders falling. "I can't do that. You know I can't. I've spend almost all of my life building up this career for myself, and it would be almost impossible to quit."
"But don't tell me you don't want something like that? A life? Perhaps a family one day?"
Arthur looked up, a slight frown on his face. "Of course, that's appealing. But I gave up on a dream that would never happen." After he spoke, both men grew silent, ignoring the sounds of the bustling bar behind them. Arthur decided that a change of subject would be healthy. "What about you? You ever think about settling down? A family?"
Eames went quiet. "...Can I tell you a story, Artie?"
Normally, the Point would scowl Eames for the ridiculous nickname, but the way he spoke drew Arthur's attention. So serious. He said nothing, but simply nodded, waiting for the Forger to continue.
"...Once," Eames spoke quietly, his voice low. "I knew this kid. Nice one too. Wasn't particularly clever, but had a lot of spirit and belief. Great at sports. Anyway, this kid seemed perfectly normal, fun, nice, social. The only thing is, his home life was not so satisfying."
"How so?" Arthur asked, taking a casual sip of his drink, listening intently.
Eames shrugged. "Didn't have a father. Not a real one, anyway. Left his mother when he was a baby. His Mum was a drinker, and spent most of her time out and about finding low lifes to bring home, in the hopes that he'd be able to call one of them 'daddy'. Alcoholics, druggies, violent, scum- each one hell bend on making their lives miserable." Eames spoke bitterly, his voice scornful and acidic. "But my favourite by far, was this one bloke who spent all day on the sofa watching television. I decided one day to make his life a little worse, so I stole his cigarettes and sold them down at the corner for a few quid."
Arthur quickly grew uncomfortable, feeling that Eames was digging too deep into his past. In their line of work, personal lives were only to be revealed if necessary. He didn't feel like Eames wanted to talk about it openly. "Eames-"
The Forger continued, his knuckles gripping around the bottle, turning white. "He didn't like that. Not one bit. So he hit me. Actually, more than that, he beat the fucking shit out of me. That was it for me, I ran. Stayed at a friends house for around a year before I was finally had enough money to get to the states."
"That's where you met Cobb."
Eames grew quiet, his breath slowing as he calmed himself, his hand relaxing. "...Yeah."
"Eames, I'm sorry. Nobody deserves that." The younger man's words were genuine.
Eames tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. "It's not that, so much as the fact that they were all just bad people. I promised myself that if I ever had children, it would be different. They'd be taken care of."
Arthur shrugged. "Understandable. That's coming directly from the lack of care you had."
"Thanks for the prognosis, Doctor Obvious," Eames retorted, rolling his eyes. "But yes, you're right. And I'll admit, I had hidden agenda for inviting you out."
Arthur raised a curious eyebrow. "Oh? That would be?"
Eames paused and gently turned his head, looking over his shoulder. His eyes scanned around them, drawing in Arthur's curiousity even furthur.
"It's not something that can lightly be discussed in a bar," Eames finally said. "I can't have undeserving ears listening in." He nodded his head toward the exit. "Shall we?"
They ended up at an apartment complex near Oxford Circus. It was nice, old fashioned- just Arthur's taste. Large white doors stood at the front of the building, whilst each window was covered by a black balcony gate, intricate designs and patterns. Arthur made a mental note to remember the idea for one of Ariadne's dreamscapes. Still confused, Arthur blindly followed Eames, who waltzed right up to the door, produced a key and opened the front entrance. Arthur stood outside for a moment. He only found breaking and entering to be acceptable in certain situations.
Eames turned and gave him an amused glance. "It's alright, I wouldn't have a key if I didn't need one." He began walking into the building, and Arthur found himself following him, making sure to shut the door behind him. He met Eames by the elevator (or lift, as Eames would say), and they both waited for the doors to open. When they did, Eames stepped inside, and motioned for Arthur to follow him.
Still curious, and slightly dumb-founded, Arthur stepped inside and watched as Eames pressed the button labelled '6'. He waited until the elevator started to move before he spoke.
"Eames, what's up on level 6?" he asked, not meeting eyes with the Forger.
"You'll see."
With nothing more to say, Arthur shut himself up. It wasn't long before the two doors opened and Eames swiftly stepped out, Arthur in tow. They walked down the fashionably designed hallway, taking a turn here or there, until Eames stopped outside one of the apartment doors. Before doing anything, he turned at stared at the younger man, his eyes narrowed and deep, cutting into Arthur like a knife.
"Listen, mate," he said, his voice low. "My entire life, soul, and being is on the other side of this door. I hope you understand that."
No, Arthur didn't understand. But already consumed by the curiousity as to what was on the other side of that door, he nodded. Eames looked at him for a moment before turning, placing the key in the lock. He pushed the door open and walked right inside, before placing the keys down on a table next to the doorway. Arthur stood outside for a moment, before finding the strength to push himself in. He looked around.
Someone was clearly living here. Not someone, people. He couldn't deny the fact that he admired the decor. The walls were a grey colour, with a tinge of green patterning. Comfortable sofas and chairs consumed by large, no doubt fluffy pillows that gave Arthur a feeling of comfort and familiarity that he hadn't felt in a long time. Not since his childhood. There were books scattered around the table, and there was a large, antique record player in the corner of the room, playing no other than Chopin- Tristesse. But most noteably, there were several children's stuffed animals scattered about the floor.
"Eames, what-"
Arthur found himself stopping short when he saw a tiny girl walk into the room, a small doll in her hands. A tiny girl, with short brown locks, and sharp grey eyes.
Arthur understood everything right then.
She walked in and stared at the doll, before noticing the presence of two men in her living room. She looked up, and quickly fixated her gaze on Eames. It was a moment before she broke out into a large, loving grin.
"Daddy!" she cried, running towards the Forger, the doll now forgotten, and laying on the floor. Eames bent down and scooped her up into his arms, placing a series of kisses on her forehead.
"Daddy's home, love. I'm home," he said, beaming down at her. It was silent for a moment, and Arthur was in shock. He'd never seen the older man so loving. For a moment, it's as if he didn't exist.
"Irena, I've missed you," he said, placing a kiss on her small nose. "Have you been good?"
"Yes Daddy," she replied, this time, her accent more obvious. She was certainly Eames' daughter, there was no doubt. The same eyes, same accent, the same freakish cheeky look that the Point Man had seen too many times. "Why were you away for so long?" she asked.
Eames let the smile slide from his face slightly, his dejection showing. "Oh...petal." He hugged her tighter, her little arms wrapping around his neck as he cradled her gently. "I know...I know...I was away for too long. But I'm home now," He pulled away slightly, giving her an assuring smile. "I won't be going away for a while."
"Promise?"
"I promise." It was a few moments later that Eames released the tiny girl. She stood and looked up to him, her smile wide. Arthur saw the exhange between the two and felt a slight touch of admiration and perhaps a hint of envy. It made him realise that sometime in the future, he would perhaps like to have a child, who would look up at him with the exact look Eames was recieving. Pure love and admiration. Perhaps that would be a possiblity for the younger man.
Eames looked up and gave Arthur a look of contentment, before turning back down to the small girl he called 'Irena'. "Where's Mummy?"
"Kitchen," she replied. "Want to play with me?"
"Not now pet, I''m going to go and talk with your mother. Later, okay?"
"Okay!" she smiled, soon turning and running into the next room.
Arthur turned to the Forger. "Eames...you...you have a daughter?"
Eames, keeping his gaze on the empty space where his daughter was just standing. He smiled.
"Yeah, I do. She's lovely, isn't she?"
Arthur was speechless. "Wha-...when did this happen? How do I not know about this?"
A heavy hand patted him on the back, and he was met with Eames' sly stare. "All in good time, Arthur. Right now I've got someone to see."
Leaving Arthur in a stunned silence, Eames turned and walked away towards the adjoining room, most likely the kitchen. However, always stubborn for answers, Arthur quickly followed him.
"Eames, what-"
He was silenced by the Forger's upturned hand. Eames was standing by the doorway, holding the doorway open with one hand, his eyes softening as he stared into the kitchen. Arthur tilted his head to look inside to see what had caught the older man's gaze.
A woman was standing over the sink, not exactly in washing up attire. Wearing a fitted pair of jeans, paired with a floating purple shirt, she stood over the dishes, finding one particularly hard to rid of stains.
She was lovely. Long, matted brown locks waved down to her shoulder, contrasting beautifully with her light blue eyes. She wasn't skinny, nor was she overweight. Curvy. Sexy in a way that made Arthur fight a flush as he admired her. Exactly Eames' type. Arthur never trusted first impressions, but he knew how important they could be to some people. This woman, seemed warm, kind, even gentle, despite her almost agressive scrubbing of the plate. Her tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth in concentration, while her eyebrows where knitted together. A brief chuckle errupted from the man next to him, grabbing the attention of the woman in question.
She looked over and scanned the two men. Panic ran through her eyes for a second, until she landed on the Forger. Narrowing her eyes, she placed the plate down and stood limply.
"...Eames?" she asked, in pure disbelief.
Eames smiled. "Yes, darling."
"...You're home?"
"In the flesh," he smiled.
Within a split second, she was running. She ran to his open arms and jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist. Eames seemed to completely forget the Point Man's company just then, as he embraced his loved one, holding her to his hips, running a hand through her hair and kissing her lips, like a starving man near death. Pulling away, the two locked eyes for a moment or two, his grey eyes silently conversing with her blue ones. Icey, cold...but the way they stared at each other conveyed warmth and love that Arthur could only dream of. He suddenly felt as if he were intruding on a very private moment, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. It was so unlike the Forger, he found himself trying to believe that it was really him.
A few moments later, Eames gently let her drop, still clutching onto her waist. He turned to the younger man and smiled. A smile that Arthur had never seen before. Not a tease, nor a joke. But a genuine smile, a true happiness that he had never seen in the Forger before.
"You obviously knew I was coming," he beamed. "Otherwise you wouldn't have worn this lovely attire."
She smiled, and lightly slapped the Forger on the arm. "I've been dressing up everyday, darling. Just in case you came back." She stood back and twirled around for him, her eyes large and fluttering in a flirtatious manner. One that made the Forger chuckle. "You like?"
"I love. You look beautiful," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Arthur watched the scene in astonishment, until Eames pulled away and looked at the Point Man, wearing a large smile.
"Arthur," he spoke. "This is Eve." His grin stretched out furthur. "My wife." Turning to Eve, Eames placed a kiss on her forehead. "Eve, this is Arthur. A work mate."
The woman, Eve, turned and looked at Arthur, her blue eyes silently observing him. Arthur quickly felt very under pressure, and cleared his throat.
"Nice to meet you," he said.
He straightened his torso and held out his hand, just as he would with anyone else. But instead of a returning shake, Arthur recieved a rush of air as the woman threw her arms around him in one of the biggest hugs he'd had in years.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for bringing him home."
Arthur remained still, searching for the right thing to say. Her words were filled with such gratitude, such honesty, that he was speechless in reply. It wasn't until she pulled away and returned to the Forger's side that he even found the strength to speak.
"...Eames never mentioned that he had a family," was all he could manage.
Eames was not taking his eyes off the woman next to him. "Of course I didn't."
Eames had quickly moved Arthur onto the balcony. The Point Man watched in fascination as Eames had lit up a cigarette and taken a deep puff.
"Nice view," Arthur said, purely for the benefit of making conversation.
"Hmm. Maybe the next place we'll be won't have a balcony at all," Eames replied half-heartedly. "Eve's always worrying that Irena can get out here too easily. That little one really does have my sense of adventure."
"She looks like you."
"I know."
"Let's hope she doesn't inherit your math skills," Arthur joked.
Eames replied with a small chuckle. He inhaled from his cigarette again, before letting his arm fall. "Eve says I should quit these, but right now, I just can't find the strength."
"Maybe now that the job's over, things might be a little calmer."
"Here's hoping." Eames caught the younger man's eyes for a moment, only a moment, until he turned away again and looked down on the people below. "I was never planning on this, Arthur," he confessed. "I knew the risks. I knew the rules. I was perfectly confident in my ability to remain a heartless criminal. Until I met her."
Arthur's curious mind was desperate for more information. More facts. How could someone as brash and free-spirited as the Forger, have created this small family, all without Arthur knowing? The Point Man knew everything. And even then, how had he managed to create a stable life for himself in the chaotic world they lived in?
"How did you meet?" he asked.
Eames let his shoulders fall in a heavy sigh. "It was back around 10 years ago. I was doing a job at a small industrial village in Berlin. She worked in a shop. Nothing grand, but that's her really. Always subtle." Eames let his lips turn into a small smile. "Anyway, I knew the consequences of the job. Complete and utter chaos. The Mark was a highly regarded personality around those parts."
"Who?"
Eames shook his head. "Can't say. But I knew that the aftermath would resort in riots, fights, anything that would find the people responsible for turning this man's life around in such drastic ways." He sighed. "A few days before the job, I met Eve. I was mesmorized. We chatted, had a laugh. But she wasn't my normal bait and hook. She was different. I knew she was special." His face turned blank, almost "The more I saw her, the more I realised that I couldn't do it. I couldn't expose her to the upcoming dangers. People would be killed, and I wasn't prepared to let her be one of them."
"You told her," Arthur said. Never judging, never disgracing him for revealing their secrets.
Eames nodded in return, his eyes flickering to the floor. "Everything. Who I was, what I did. She didn't believe me, of course she didn't. Regardless, I bought her a plane ticket to England and made her promise me that at the first signs of trouble, she would run. So, that was it." A moment of silence echoed between the two men as Eames inhaled another breathful of smoke. "I didn't see her after that. I did the job, all hell broke loose. I was thinking of...checking on her. Making sure that she'd left. But I had to go on the run, I couldn't for my life stay there. It was about 2 months before I saw her again."
Arthur sighed. "I can't imagine..."
"It was hard, yes. Not knowing whether she had made it out alive or not. She was at the back of my mind, Arthur. All the time. Infectious, like an inception. I had to see her. Just to know if-" he stopped and let out a sigh. "She was difficult to find. There's a lot of Eves. "
"How did you find her?"
"Friend of a friend is a superb hacker. Found her information for me. So, I went to where she was living. I didn't think she was going to recognise me, let alone want to see me again. But she did. And do you know what the first thing she said to me was?"
"What?" Arthur asked, his whole being completely absorbed.
Eames smiled. "She looked at me, serious as stone and said, "It took you bloody long enough." That was it. I was sold. We were secret lovers for about 3 years before I finally asked her to marry me. I was so happy, I just didn't think. I didn't care about anything else. She was my life from that point on."
"So, when did you have..."
"Irena? She's 6 now," Eames smiled. "She's certainly got her mother's brain. She wasn't expected either, but certainly not a mistake. I was thrilled."
"I never put you down as a family man, you know," Arthur said, a small smirk playing on his face, which the Forger mirrored.
"Nobody does. But I never realised how much I wanted it, until I knew it existed."
"When did Eve become pregnant?"
"Just before Mallorie died. It was hard, juggling jobs and trying to be with Eve at the same time. I just...didn't want my child to grow up not knowing who I was. I was terrified that I wouldn't even be there for the birth. But I was...and it was perfect. Holding her for the first time, it was...amazing." Eames smiled fondly at the memory, a look that Arthur had seen before on Cobb's face. He put it down as the look that only a father could give.
"She's beautiful, Eames. They both are. I can understand why you'd want to keep this secret," the younger man said, placing his hands gently into his pockets.
Eames grew quiet, the mood between the two changing as quickly as it had before.
"Arthur..." Eames spoke in a hushed tone, one that caught Arthur's full attention. "...Nobody can ever know. Not even Cobb. They're my entire life. If anything ever happened to either of them...it doesn't bear thinking about." He turned to the younger man, his eyes cold. "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to them. I'd rather die than see them hurt. Irena is my daughter, my baby. I love her more than any father could love a child. And Eve...it was like a blind man seeing the world for the first time when she came into my life. Nothing could ever be the same without her."
"How much have you done in the way of security?" Arthur asked, his inner Point Man taking hold. If someone had known the system inside out, it was Arthur. He knew the secrets of identity, the forgery of the government, the inner workings of all the major security companies and banks. There was a reason Arthur was the best there was.
Eames sighed. Reaching back, he rubbing the nape of his neck. "Enough, I hope. We move every 2 years, even if it's just down the road. Never staying in one place for too long." He then chuckled dryly, a laugh that was without humour or happiness. "She can't even take my last name. She's still a Wittaker to the rest of the world, but in our little family, she's Evelyne Eames." Catching the younger man's eyes again, Arthur noticed more vaunrability in the Forger. A sadness that he'd kept hidden. "Sometimes I wish that...I wish that I could give them a normal life. Irena will never have a regular childhood, and I feel just awful for that."
Seeing the dejection on the Forger's face, Arthur sighed and looked out on to the busy street below them. Simple pedestrians who had know idea of the events in other's lives. No idea about the secret creative world around them.
"Look, I know I'm just an outsider in this situation," He said gently. "But the way they look at you...it doesn't seem like they care. Your wife loves you, your daughter adores you, and I think you need to see past the bad things."
Eames turned to him, genuine gratitude his his grey eyes."Thank you, Arthur."
Arthur replied with a quick nod. "You're welcome." Eames sighed, and Arthur could still hear the uncertainty and fear in the older man's voice. Arthur kept his face straight, the type of expression only worn when around the former Extractor. "I swear on my life, Eames. I will never tell a soul about today. Not even a whisper," he spoke clearly, a look of determination and promise in his eyes.
Eames said nothing, only catching eyes with the Point Man for a brief moment. However, in that moment, Arthur caught every piece of gratitude and relief in his eyes. Serene, almost.
"...I have only one question," Arthur continued. "Why did you let me in? Why me?"
A heavy sigh tensed the older man's shoulders, pursing his lips as they fell. "Because, Arthur. As much as I tease you, and as much as I piss you off, I think of you as a friend. A brother sometimes. And no matter what I say about you, I would never trust anyone else with this." Then he turned to Arthur, his eyes slightly colder and harder than they had been before. His jaw set, and his voice came out low and quiet, as if he were afraid to say it. "I'm not my father, Arthur. Never have been, never will be. I'm going to be there for my family, regardless of what's happening. They're my priority. That's where I need you."
Without a second of hesitation, Arthur nodded. "What do you want me to do?"
Turning his body around to face him fully, Eames looked over to the empty doorway and back again, this time, leaning in closer to speak to the Point Man. "Arthur...if anything ever happens to me...I need you to watch them for me. I'm not asking you to be here all the time, I just need you to check up on them. Keep them safe. You're the best Point Man I know, and if anyone can protect them better than me, it's you."
Arthur could see instantly how much of this man's life was carried in this home. Understanding what it meant to him, Arthur nodded sternly. "Of course," he said, holding his hand out. "I promise."
A smile spread across the Forger's face as he held out his hand and connected in a shake with Arthur's. If ever there was a pure moment of friendship and trust between two people, this was it. No teasing, no silly name-calling. Just a promise.
"Thanks, Arthur," Eames smiled, letting his hand fall.
"Daddy?" a small voice asked.
Both men turned to the sound of the small voice, to find small Irena standing at the doorway. She walked over and lifted her arms up to Eames.
He lifted her up onto his chest, cradling her head gently. "Yes, pet?"
She looked at Arthur, her eyes shy and flickering. Her cheeks reddened for a moment before quickly turning and buring her head into Eames' neck. She was quiet, but Arthur could just make out her small whisper. "Who's he?"
Eames smiled lightly at his little one and her uncertainty for the stranger in their home. "This is Arthur, love. He works with me."
She poked her head up slightly from Eames' neck, and that time, Arthur had to smile.
"Hello," he offered. It's the best he can do, considering he'd never made a big song and dance about talking to children. James and Phillipa maybe, but they were more his family than anything else.
"'Ello," she squeaked back. "Arthur? That's a funny name, isn't it?"
As Eames surpressed a laugh, Arthur found himself getting defensive. "Arthur's not a funny name," he replied, as serious as if he were speaking with Cobb.
"Yes it is," Eames chirped, his face now in a fully formed grin. "Don't worry, Irena. Just call him Stick."
"No, please don't," Arthur spoke, his voice desperate. He really had hoped that no more people would pick up the Forger's nickname for him. But it was too late, as Eames placed the small girl down by his feet, Irena offered him a small smile, and turned her back on the two.
"Bye Stick!" she called, happily running back into the flat.
Arthur could do nothing but send Eames a weak glare. Eames on the other hand, simply grinned and patted the younger man on the back. "Don't worry 'bout it, mate."
As silence fell between the two, Arthur simply had to ask the question that had been burning at his mind all afternoon. "So, what now?"
Replying with a shrug, Eames sighed. "I'm here until the next job comes around."
"But...that might be soon. That's not much time," Arthur pointed out, knowing full well that the demand for good quality Forgers was high.
Eames nodded. "I know. I'm hoping to hold it off as much as possible."
Arthur nodded, in full understanding that Eames had worked more than enough in the past year. He'd called on the Forger for many jobs, not knowing that there was a family he was seperating. In many ways, he had a respect for Eames, who had hidden his seperation well.
"Well, I'd better go," Arthur breathed. "I should leave you to catch up with your family."
Eames nodded and showed Arthur to the front door, where both men exchanged a handshake. Eames asked him to keep in touch if he could, and Arthur promised to keep any job offers open. As the younger man was just about to leave, Eames called his name, causing Arthur to stop in the middle of the door frame. He turned and caught the Forger's smile.
"Arthur, thank you, for being so understanding," he said, just loud enough for the Point Man to hear.
Arthur returned with a smile, and a small shrug. "Thank you for showing me this part of your life," he replied.
"Hug?" Eames asked, his arms already halfway open.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Oh, geez. Really? We have to- OMPH!"
The Forger already had wrapped his arms tightly around Arthur, in a far too large hug. Arthur didn't respond, but he didn't pull away.
"See you soon, Artie," Eames said as he released the Point Man.
"Bye, Eames."
It wasn't until the door was shut, and Arthur was in the elevator did he realise what had just happened. The unknown lives he had just encountered. A family nobody knew existed.
Two weeks later, Arthur got a job offer, with the request of a skilled Forger. He thought about getting Eames, but something stopped him. An image. An idea. The idea of Eames at home with his family, his little daughter Irena on his lap, perhaps reading a book or watching television. His wife Eve maybe in the kitchen, still scrubbing at that dastardly plate. Better yet, she may have been sitting next to Eames, her head on his shoulder. The whole family sharing love as freely and genuinely as they would. How on earth could Arthur rip this picture apart like he had unknowingly done probably a hundred times before? He couldn't. He knew that no matter what the exciting promise of the dream may be, Eames would always been happier where he was supposed to be. Protecting and loving his family.
So, Arthur found another Forger. Nowhere near as good as Eames, but would do the job just fine. There was no way that he would drop Eames for good, but Arthur remembered to be more thoughtful with the continuous job offers.
Another thing changed. Seeing Eames as happy as he was that day, made Arthur become more painfully aware of his loneliness. Not just as a Point, but as a person. He realised that at some point, in the future, he would want what Eames had. A wife, a best friend, a lover, someone who he could come home to at the end of a job and be greeted with open arms and a loving kiss. A family too, perhaps. Just maybe.
He told himself that there were always a million reasons not to do something, but if he didn't do this one thing, then he would regret it for the rest of his life. So a few days after Christmas, he picked up the standard hotel phone, and dialed a number he'd hand in his head for quite sometime.
"Hello?" The familiar musical voice asked on the other end of the line.
Arthur swallowed and tugged on the front of his collar. "...Ariadne? It's Arthur."
"Arthur?" Ariadne asked, her voice laced with curiostity. "How are you?"
"I'm good. More than good actually, I'm spontaniously happy."
A small laugh errupted from the other end. "Well, it's always good to be happy."
He smiled. "Yes, I agree."
"So what can I do for you?"
"Hmm?" he mumbled, completely at peace with the sound of her voice. So much so, that he'd become completely unaware of the fact that they were actually having a conversation.
"Well, considering it's only a few days after Christmas, and you're calling me at half eleven at night, I assume you have something to say," Ariadne explained.
Arthur blinked before letting out a small chuckle. "Oh, right. Well..." He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit. "...I was wondering...if you wanted to meet up sometime?"
"What? I can't hear you, you're mumbling."
Arthur shut his eyes tightly whilst he repeated the offer. "I was wondering if you wanted to meet up sometime?"
There was a pause from the young woman, before she spoke very quickly. "...Like a date, or a job interview?"
"Um...the first one." Placing his hand in his pant pocket, he paced the room, his heels clicking with the carpeted floor. "So...up for it?" He didn't understand why he sounded so nervous. He was a Point Man for crying out loud- one of the best. How did something as simple as this create such a drift in his normally calm facade?
There were a few moments of silence, and all he could hear was the gentle breathing on the other end. He suddenly wished he'd never said anything at all. It wasn't until she answered that he found his shoulders relaxing. "Took you long enough," she said, almost snappy. He surpressed a laugh. "Of course I would. What did you have in mind?"
He couldn't hold the grin breaking out on his face. "Well...New Year's would be a good start."
One date turned into two, and two turned into several. Arthur didn't see the Forger for weeks after that, until he needed him desperately for a job. When he saw the Forger, he noticed the healthy smile worn by a happy man. Before the job had even started, the Point Man and Forger had sat down, had a drink and caught up with each other's lives. Eames told him about how Irena had just turned seven, and how she'd taken a great interest in art. Arthur joked that she might be an Architect in the making. The older man explained how grateful he was for having the time with his family, and how they'd moved within the time Arthur had seen them. He didn't say where.
He'd also told Arthur how thankful he was of Arthur's promise, and how he could sleep peacefully knowing his family were not only in his protection, but in the watchful eye of a talented Point Man. When Arthur asked of Eve, the Forger was incredibly happy to inform him that Eve was pregnant again.
8 months later, William Dexter Eames was born.
Arthur was named godfather.