The two were standing together at the other side of the room. There were a few inches between them as they stood, heads close together, scrutinizing one of Ariadne's designs for a new job. Arthur would point to something and make a comment, to which she'd nod with a slight smile on her face.
Eames, leaning against the wall, watched them carefully. Although he hated to admit it, the two were good together. They were good for each other.
Arthur had that strict personality that kept him in the lines, so to say. He followed the rules as gospel and rarely strayed from them unless that was where Cobb was headed.
Ariadne, the newcomer, was just that – a newcomer. Although she had her first job down, she had yet to get the full taste of this sort of work, and Arthur was exactly the man she needed to guide her in the right direction. She had respect for the rules, but Eames could tell that as she'd become more accustomed to the job, the rules would seem more like guidelines or tips.
She was just enough Arthur's opposite to keep him intact. Just what he needed to keep himself sane in this sort of setting, and, most of all, exactly what Arthur needed to keep himself happy.
Eames had noticed a sort of depression creeping into Arthur before Ariadne had come into the picture. He'd had family problems that had managed, in very small amounts, to affect certain jobs. No one had really brought it to his attention, and when Eames tried to be there for him, his attempts were met only with chilled silences.
He had thought back to a particular moment far back in time. Arthur's mother had recently passed and his relationship with his father was becoming more and more strained. Being Arthur, he never spoke of the issues.
During this time, it was right before a job in New York. The team (minus Ariadne) had been getting thoughts together and trimming up all the final details of their plan. Eames had entered a few minutes late and surveyed the room. No Arthur. He did a bit of looking and found him, not too far, sitting on a milk crate in an alley.
The sight of Arthur sitting alone in the dark alley brought a great pain through his chest. He didn't see a strong, confident man sitting in the alley. Just a small, sad boy with a life bigger than he could handle.
Eames stayed a distance away at first, but slowly eased his way closer to him. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "You alright?"
As expected, Arthur didn't respond.
Eames laughed a moment and removed his hand, "Look, Arthur, we spend most of our time together hating one another. Now, I'm not saying I'd like that to change, but, just this once, I want you to know that I'm here for you to talk. Okay?"
Arthur looked up at Eames and for the briefest of moments there was a subtle gleam of gratitude in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came. "That was surprisingly thoughtful, Mr. Eames. I am surprised, to say the least."
Eames released a breath he didn't even realize he was holding and smirked. "Every now and then, I do try, dear."
Their relationship had always been a bit funny in that respect. It was usually based on heated battles of verbal tennis. Back and forth they always seemed to go, one sarcastic comment thrown after the other. Each one trying to outdo the other, trying to make the final comment all the time. There were times too, countless times actually, when Arthur had been there for Eames and vice versa.
Eames, back in reality, looked over at the two again. Now there was no space between the point man and the architect. Their shoulders were pressed close together as they began to play around with another model Ariadne had been working on.
She would comment on something and Arthur would extend his hand over the model and point something out to her. His fingers would move effortlessly over the miniature buildings, brow furrowed in extreme concentration. Then as soon as Ariadne nodded in understanding, the creases in his forehead would smooth and the corners of his mouth would turn up into a pleased grin.
For the first time since Eames had entered the room, Arthur looked up from Ariadne and the models. He wasn't sure what to expect. Something bordering annoyance and frustration, most likely, but that wasn't what Eames got. Arthur looked directly at Eames. His dark eyes, searching for Eames, were clouded with doubt and confusion. He looked nervous, a characteristic rarely present in Arthur's suave personality.
Oh love, what am I going to do with you? Eames thought as he chuckled quietly to himself. Arthur's eyes were still on him and Eames tried keeping his light and cheerful, but failed. And for a second they were apologetic, brimming with sympathy. Then he looked down, again to the models and left Eames alone with his hand clasped around his totem buried deep in his pocket wishing this were really just a dream he'd soon wake up from.
A few more minutes went by and it seemed as though the two had finally finished up with their observations. Arthur slid his hands smoothly into his pockets and watched Ariadne's every move as she grabbed her jacket and walked towards the door.
A look of surprise spread across her face as though it was her first time seeing him that day. "Night, Eames," she said briskly as she walked out the door. Her cheeks were a bit flushed and a small smile played at her lips.
Eames nodded in response as she left the room and made her way out of the building. Arthur, he could see, was now standing by the windows, watching her walk out of the building and become one of many in the crowded city.
God, he really was infatuated.
After a couple minutes, Arthur seemed satisfied and went for his suit coat. When he looked up, Arthur seemed almost surprised to see Eames' figure still present against the wall.
"You're still here?" he asked casually.
"Of course. Seeing you two fiddle over matters is rather entertaining, I must admit."
By this time Arthur had gathered his items and made his way towards the door, but he stopped for just a moment.
Here Arthur was, standing just inches away from him. He thought of how badly he wanted to close that space between them. How he wanted to take him into his arms and taste his sweet mouth against his own, but stopped himself.
Looking at him now was a young man filled with happiness. The joking, care-free light so rarely seen by others, had returned to his face. A surprisingly wide grin exposed his teeth and he seemed to sigh without trying. His thumbs were hooked on his pockets and his posture was relaxed. All the tension slipped away leaving behind a happy Arthur.
"She's great, right?" Arthur's ears lifted slightly as the enthusiasm began to ease its way into his voice.
Eames nodded. "Oh, she's wonderful. Smart, witty, not bad on the eyes either. Exactly what you've needed. I approve."
"You approve?" Arthur asked, one eyebrow characteristically raised in confusion. There might've been a hint of annoyance, if Eames didn't know better. "Did I really ever need your approval?"
Eames smiled, his eyes directed towards the ground.
"No," he began, his eyes slowly moving to meet Arthur's. "No, I guess you never have."
There was a pause between the two, but both were brought back to reality when Eames cleared his throat. A slight blush surfaced to Arthur's cheeks as he began to gather his own things.
"Right, I'll be heading off then. Goodbye, Mr. Eames."
Arthur's words lingered in the air long after he exited the door and made his way towards the stairs.
Eames remained at the doorway watching his receding figure. "Be seeing you, love."
Very first Inception fic.
I hope you enjoyed it.
Reviews are very much appreciated!
Thank you to Muffled_Chimes for beta-ing for me!