Authors Note: This chapter is really only about kind of getting into everyone's head, my poor attempt to thicken the plot, as it would seem. This is a rather short chapter, but the one that follows is much longer and contains boy kissing! If you want it, let me know! Well, have fun with it.

Rating: Uh, I don't know. PG-13 or something for swearing and shit?

Unstable Work Relationships and Buried Feelings

"Eames? No Eames is in Mombasa, that's Cobol's backyard," Arthur replied quickly, trying not to seem too concerned with what was about to happen.

"It's a necessary risk," Cobb replied, scooping up his jacket.

"There are plenty of good thieves." Arthur pushed, silently begging his friend not to bring his ex into this game, even if Cobb didn't know about their fling.

"We don't just need a thief, we need a Forger," Cobb replied, pulling on his jacket and Arthur swore inwardly.

As Cobb exited the warehouse, the point man threw himself into a chair, head in his hands. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to work with the man who had just broke his heart less than a handful of months ago. His chest still ached, his hands clenched with dread at the thought of looking into Eames' eyes again and falling so hard, so fast all over again, even though he knew he had only been used by said man.

Maybe he wouldn't come. He probably wouldn't even pay attention to Cobb's crazy idea of inception. Maybe he'd dismiss him as crazy, which, you know, he kind of was. He began to relax, reassuring himself that his ex-lover would turn down the job.

Feeling much calmer and more reassured, he began busying himself with equipment.

"Arthur? You're still working with that stick in the mud?" Eames asked, his tone smooth and cocky as he disguised his silent glee at the idea of seeing Arthur again. He couldn't get the stupid man out of his mind, which didn't really surprise him. How could he possibly stop thinking about him after their fling a few months ago?

"He's good at what he does, right?" Cobb replied simply.

"Oh the best, but he has no imagination."

"Not like you." Cobb replied, and the conversation deviled into the ways of inception, how to pull it off, what was going to be needed and so forth, though Eames couldn't shake off the anticipation. He longed to see Arthur, even if he hated him, even if he wouldn't talk to him, Eames just wanted to see his beautiful face.

When things were squared away with Yusuf and they went to board a plane back to the warehouse where Arthur was, Eames found himself tingling with anticipation.

As it turned out, Arthur kind of did hate him, or at least that's how it seemed. When Eames had arrived and said hi to the lithe man, he brushed him off with a simple hello and returned his attention to Ariadne, their conversation continuing as if Eames wasn't even there.

Eames left him there, joining Cobb, but his eyes never left Arthur. He kept talking, his eyes locked on the young woman's, his smooth, elegant tone never faltering, but Eames could see the distress in Arthur's eyes, the way his hands twitched, constantly moving. It was his job to know how people worked and he could tell that Arthur was deeply unsettled by his presence.

This made Eames feel guilty. He had thought that Arthur would be over him (Hell, he thought he would be over Arthur) but as it turned out he was clearly wrong. The emotions Arthur projected were ones of hurt, confusion and even rage.

"Arthur," Eames said softly, walking over to the pretty man. "We need to talk."

Annoyance and discomfort flashed across Arthur's face and when he replied, he didn't look away from Ariadne. "Can it wait?"

"No."

Arthur sighed and stood, "Fine. You've got a minute."

Eames looked around and lightly grabbed Arthur's arm. "Can we do this somewhere a bit more…private?"

Arthur jerked away and stormed outside, his emotions clearly hitting their boiling point.

Eames joined him outside and opened his mouth to speak.

"Shut up, Eames. Just shut up. You've got some gall, you know that? Showing up here and acting like we're…we're friends after what you did," Arthur growled savagely, surprising Eames.

"Look, Arthur, I know I hurt you-"

"Shut up. You have no clue what you did. So just shut your trap and listen. This is a job. If Cobb didn't need us both on this, I'd leave, but as it is, he needs us, so here's how it's going to work. We're going to forget that you left me alone in Paris five months ago and I'm going to pretend I can stand being in the same room with you. We're going to act like business partners and nothing else but let me make this very, very clear. There's nothing between us, and there won't be, so go on acting like we're okay with each other and once this job is done I never want to see your face again, got it?" Arthur spoke rapidly, angrily, and almost threateningly, but Eames could see the hurt in his eyes.

"Arthur, I really think we should talk about-"

"No, Eames. We're done talking."

Eames frowned, becoming frustrated by Arthur's tone. He just wanted to talk; he just wanted to make things right between them and Arthur wasn't even giving him a chance to explain things, to try to fix what was wrong. "I don't think that's fair, Arthur."

"You know what, life isn't fair." Arthur interrupted him again and turned to head back into the warehouse.

Eames grabbed his arm gently, attempting to keep him there a moment longer when Arthur did something that surprised them both. He slapped Eames, hard. Hard enough that Eames let him go and took several steps back, staring at Arthur in disbelief until Arthur turned his back on him and walked back in the warehouse.

Eames stood there a moment, shocked that the man who had once confessed his love to him had just hit him. Eames wanted to be angry at him, and to some extent he was, but he was also angry at himself for letting it get to this. If he had just kept his junk in his pants, this wouldn't have been a problem.

He sighed, angry with himself and Arthur, unable to make sense of his feelings and for once in his life, not sure what to do next. So he did all he could do and walked back into the warehouse where Cobb was gathering Arthur and Ariadne to him, motioning for Eames as well. If he noticed the red, hand shaped mark on Eames' cheek he didn't say anything.

"Ariadne has completed the designs-"

"More or less," the pretty girl interrupted, explaining in greater detail that she had the basic idea, but needed to more about the situation at hand to create the proper layouts.

"Do we have a plan?" Cobb asked Eames.

Eames shrugged, and Ariadne sighed and left the men alone to go design proper mazes while they worked on a plan.

"Let's hear what you've got so far," Cobb prompted, sitting down beneath the white board.

Eames picked up a pile of papers on the desk, skimming through them momentarily, silently relieved that his cheek no longer stung from the force of Arthur's hit. Arthur had taken a seat near a slumbering Saito and looked up at him. All the rage, anger, hurt, and betrayal were gone from his face, hidden behind a mask of half-hearted interest and almost-boredom.

"The vultures are circling," Eames began, "the sicker Morris Fisher becomes the more powerful Peter Browning becomes. I've had ample opportunity to observe Browning…"

Arthur was only half paying attention. He could hear the words coming out of Eames' mouth, understand them, but every part of him wanted to vomit or smack him again, maybe even both. He felt ill, his chest hurt and he just wanted to get some well needed rest like their dreaming employer who sat behind him.

"Now, in the first layer of the dream I can impersonate Browning, suggest concept to Fisher's conscious mind. Then, when we take him a level deeper his own projection of Browning should, should feed that right back to him," Eames concluded, drawing Arthur's attention. As much as he currently hated the man, his idea was brilliant.

"So he gives himself the idea?" Arthur asked, summarizing Eames' idea in six simple words.

"Precisely. It's the only way it will stick. It has to seem self-generated." Eames replied simply, looking everywhere but at Arthur's beautiful face.

"Eames, I am impressed," Arthur replied, leaning back. Everyone else saw Arthur's words as a compliment, but Eames knew the words were meant to hurt.

"Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated Arthur, thank you."

Arthur's feelings of awe melted away and he grabbed a folder, looking through it and shutting the idiot out again, they had a lot of work to do.