Title: Snapshots of our Lives

Pairing(s): Mal/Dom, Arthur/Eames(eventually) but it is Arthur-centric

Rating: T (because of the occasional swear and eventual violence that will pop up)

Disclaimer: I do not own Inception or the wonderful characters that are in it, but I do enjoy playing around with them :)

A/N: Part VII. This fic is really coming along. Thank you everyone for the reviews and the favorites, I really appreciate them. I wanted to try to write something a little happier, but not too happy given the events occuring at and around this time. It's definitely nowhere near as sad as the last chapter and you might be smiling despite yourself at the end. Please enjoy and review!

Eames hasn't seen Arthur or Cobb since that one job right before Mal jumped. It hasn't been that long but considering how busy the duo was he was surprised that it had taken them this long to need the assistance of a forger. He himself hadn't been able to attend the funeral of the wonderful Mal. It was difficult to do that sort of thing when your every movement was being tracked by a man that wanted you dead.

So now he's waiting in the airport for either Arthur or Cobb to come get him. Though if he had to bet on it, he would put his money on the Point-Man being the one to pick him up. He hadn't seen either of them and wasn't sure what to expect. Cobb was bound to be messed up, his wife had jumped from a building right in front of him, so there was no doubt that he wasn't going to be the same Cobb that Eames had once known. He was concerned for the Extractor, anyone with a heart would, and he knew that he would never really be alright. Some day he would be able to move on, he still had his children, living reminders of his beautiful wife.

Maybe it was because of what happened between them and the fondness that Eames had developed for him, but he was more concerned about Arthur and how he was handling the situation. They had become almost friends during some of the other jobs that they had pulled and Eames had been happy to discover that there was a work-Arthur and a relax-Arthur. On more than one occasion he had persuaded the younger man to go out and get drinks or dinner with him. It was pleasant. When he wasn't working, Arthur actually smiled, laughed, and relaxed. It was nice to know that Arthur was capable of acting his age every once in a while. Eames knew that a big part of this could be attributed to the time that the young man had spent with the Cobb family. Each of them had some sort of positive impact on Arthur, though Mal's influence was greater and more apparent than anyone else. The forger was concerned that with Mal's death, Arthur would lock away that playful side that Mal had painstakingly drawn out, even if only a bit.

"Mr. Eames."

Eames looked up at the sound of his name. Arthur in his wonderfully tailored three-piece suit was standing in front of him. During the last couple of jobs, Eames had managed to pull a smile out of Arthur while they were working, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been looking forward to seeing the young man's smile. It was one of Eames' favorite things about him.

"Darling, you look exquisite as always." This usually got him a tug at the corners of Arthur's mouth or even if he was lucky a small blush.

He got none of these things. If anything, Arthur's frown deepened. It was disheartening to say the least. "How's Cobb?"

This seemed to tire the young man out even though he hadn't done anything. His whole posture just seemed to slump and suddenly he looked so very small and tired. What had happened to him? How badly had Mal's death affected him? The drop in façade only lasted a second before the rigid, military stance was back in place. Or at least it did until Eames decided to hug him. The forger felt the smaller body tense up for a moment before relaxing. At least Arthur recalled the bond they had been developing before everything happened. He remembered that Eames wasn't here to hurt him, he was here to help.

"I know nothing I say will make the hurt go away, but if you ever need anything, darling, please ask."

He felt Arthur nod against his shoulder before disengaging himself from the Brit's arms. He tugged at his suit and reoriented himself before grabbing Eames' suitcase and leading him towards the car. This relationship didn't need words, they just knew. There were some things that they just couldn't say, not to themselves and not to each other. Eames was glad that deep down, the cute smiling poncy point-man he had met almost five years ago was still there. All he had to do was push the right buttons within limit and be patient with him. It would take awhile but Eames knew when the wait would be worth it when one day he'd be able to get him to smile again.