Part Five

"Um… Eames?" Cobb asked. "Why… are you in my pantry?"

Eames grinned sheepishly. "I'm hiding."

"From what?"

"Phillipa. It's part of the game."

"…Okay… did you guys accomplish any work while I was gone?"

"Of course we did. Don't take us for amateurs, Cobb."

Cobb gave him a long, squinty glare.

"Just shut the door," Eames said. "And don't tell her I'm here."

Cobb just sighed, grabbed a box of crackers, and shut the pantry door.

As he entered the living room, he spotted Ariadne squeezing herself behind the couch.

"I assume you're playing as well?" Cobb asked.

Ariadne popped up, blushed, and ducked back down. "She'll be down any second. Don't tell her I'm here."

"Can I just point out to you guys that you're adults?"

"Don't pretend that you play with your kids, Cobb. It's Eames's fault."

It was just like Ariadne to make an accusation and then explain who's fault it was. "Fine. I won't say anything."

Phillipa appeared at the bottom of the stairs just as Cobb took a seat in his armchair with his crackers.

"Did anybody come through here?" she asked him.

Cobb shrugged, and she continued on her way. As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, Cobb was surprised to see the hall closet door open and Arthur step out as quietly as possible.

"Really?" Cobb said flatly.

"Shh!" Arthur shushed and started climbing the stairs.

"You're not going to get to base before me!" Ariadne complained, but realized quite quickly that she had quite a struggle before her in getting out from behind the couch. "Damn it."

"Do you need some help?" Cobb asked.

"Shut up, Cobb!"

Arthur was gone. Ariadne was displeased. She struggled for a moment more before sighing and saying, "Okay, are you going to help me or not?"

"Sure," Cobb said and grabbed her by her ankles and pulled. Nothing. "You're stuck in there pretty good."

"Make one comment about my weight, and you'll have my foot in your mouth."

"I didn't say anything like that." He tugged again, and she slid a little, and by his third tug, she was free; hair frizzy, clothes rumpled, but free.

"Don't," she commanded, noticing how he was chewing on his lower lip to keep from laughing at her.

"Better hurry," Cobb said.

As if remembering what she was doing, Ariadne ran for the stairs and tripped on the third one up.

"You okay?" Cobb called after her.

"SHUT UP, COBB!"

A moment later Phillipa skipped by, Eames trailing behind her. "I had no idea you took prisoners in hide and seek," he mumbled. "I'm it now."

Cobb shook his head.

Eames counted, and the others dispersed. Ariadne made sure not to hide behind any furniture this time and instead hid in Cobb's master bathroom shower.

Arthur found himself in the laundry room and settled in between the shelf of detergents and fabric softener and folded clothes, safely hidden from the doorway from behind a pile of unwashed clothes.

He discovered he was not alone when said pile of unwashed clothes moved. "Mr. Arthur!" Phillipa whispered excitedly from beneath her mountain of clothes.

"Oh… sorry. I didn't know you were hiding here."

"It's okay. I don't mind."

They sat awkwardly for a moment.

Phillipa watched his profile, pointy and serious, skin smooth over his cheekbones, and dark eyes staring on for eons. His lips were slightly chapped, and his teeth were slightly yellowed from tobacco use. Not one hair was out of place, as usual. She also thought that he had the cutest ears.

She dug her camera out from the pocket of her hooded sweatshirt (red, of course), aimed it, and took the picture.

He noticed.

"What are you doing?" he asked, though not unkindly, just curiously.

She flushed. "I was just taking your picture. I like taking picture of you, Mr. Arthur."

"I don't think-"

"You do look good in pictures, Mr. Arthur. You're handsomer than you think you are."

"I believe the term is 'more handsome', Phillipa… but… thanks, I guess."

"Well, you are. I think that you're the most handsomest person in the whole world."

"You haven't seen a lot of the world yet…" he blushed, in spite of himself.

"I know… but I think even if I did, I'd still think you were."

And he cracked that smile again. "Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because because."

He laughed. "Because because why?"

"Because because… I love you."

They stared at each other for a moment before she fell into a fit of giggles and buried herself beneath the clothes.

Arthur had been regretting this, waiting for her to come out and admit her feelings… he'd been so concerned about how he was going to go about it, doing whatever she could to not break her heart and at the same time not end up being her boyfriend. He had dreaded those three syllables more than anything.

Until now…

…when all he could think was that no one had ever said that to him before.

"What's wrong?"

He turned slowly, seeing only her eyes peeking out from her hiding place. Big green orbs were staring at him with worry.

"Oh… nothing… It's just-"

"You… don't like me like I like you… do you…"

Arthur opened his mouth to say something, anything, though he wasn't sure what it was, but just then the laundry room door opened, and instead he ducked down, silent. All he could see was Phillipa's eyes, big and green and teary.

He felt like the worst person on the planet… in the universe if there were people on other planets…

"You're not very good at hiding, are you, darling?" Eames asked, hovering over Arthur who had failed to even notice him.

Arthur stood. "I don't want to play anymore," he mumbled and walked out.

Eames was about to protest that a person couldn't quit a game just because he was found, but he changed his mind when he heard a whimper underneath a pile of clothes.

"Okay…" Ariadne huffed. "I have been standing in that shower for over an hour. Where is everybody?"

Cobb was still in his armchair, but looking remarkably less jovial. She discovered Arthur sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, Eames slouched next to him, looking just as miserable.

"…What happened?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm the absolute worst person to ever exist," Arthur replied back glumly.

"Where's Phillipa?" she asked immediately.

"Up in her room… crying…" Eames explained. "She locked the door, so no one can get inside."

"What did you say?" she asked Arthur and immediately regretted it.

He looked up at her, sullen faced. "I didn't… say… anything. God… I should have said something."

Even Eames couldn't tease him when he looked so pitiful and instead put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"So she wouldn't let any of you guys in?" Ariadne asked.

"No," Cobb replied miserably.

Ariadne sighed. "Well, I'll give it a shot."

Ariadne knocked on Phillipa's door. "Hello? Phillipa? It's me, Ariadne."

"Go away!" came the muffled, broken-hearted reply.

"Look… I know it hurts… won't you just talk to me? Girl to girl?"

There was a long moment, and Ariadne thought she wasn't going to respond, but then the door opened. "What do you want?" She asked, bleary eyed.

"Can I come in?"

Phillipa hesitated but then nodded and opened the door for her. "Only because you're a girl…" she sniffled. "I never want to see another boy ever again."

"Oh, you don't mean that," Ariadne cooed, taking a seat on Phillipa's bed and pulling the girl up next to her. She couldn't help but think about what Eames had said about Phillipa being raised as a lesbian.

"I do mean it! He doesn't like me!"

"Did he say that?" Ariadne asked, smoothing the girl's hair behind her ears.

"Well… no… Do you think that he likes me?"

Ariadne almost crumbled then but swallowed and said, "I think that Arthur likes you very much, but… it might be better for you to talk to him so you can understand how your relationship is… defined."

Phillipa wiped her cheeks with her wrists. "I guess so… but… I don't want to. What if he doesn't like me at all? What if he thinks I'm annoying and stupid? What if…" Her eyes welled with tears. "What if he decides to go away and never come back like Mommy did?"

Ariadne's eyes welled with tears as well, and she hugged her. "That's not going to happen… I promise that's not going to happen."

"When Mr. Arthur says things, I always believe them…"

"Then when you talk to him, you know he'll tell you the truth."

The two girls pulled apart, and Ariadne dabbed her tears with her scarf. "What you should do," she told Phillipa, "is figure out what it is you want to say. Think really hard about it, and when you're sure you know what you want to say, then go to him and tell him."

Phillipa sniffed. "Okay."

"You gonna be okay?" Ariadne asked.

"…I don't know…"

"I think you will… I hope you will…" Ariadne gave her another hug. "I'll tell Arthur to be waiting for you, okay?"

"Okay."

Arthur squirmed on the side of his bed, laid down, sat back up, paced the room, sat back down. Ariadne had talked to Phillipa nearly an hour ago. He was worried and afraid and nauseous and all kinds of different horrible feelings. If she were to hate him, he would never forgive himself, and he would never be able to come back to the house he'd come to call home.

He was well-prepared to wallow in self-pity when there was a small knock on his bedroom door.

Arthur tensed. "C-come in," he said, and his voice cracked from the nerves.

The door inched open, and Phillipa slipped inside before quietly shutting it behind her. Her eyes were still red.

Arthur felt that slamming his head through a glass window would be quite appropriate at that moment. He actually felt that he deserved to be run through a wood chipper.

"Mr. Arthur… can I talk to you?"

"Of course…"

She crawled up onto the bed and took a seat next to him. "I'm gonna be completely serious, okay?" He noticed she was carrying a book with her.

He nodded. "Okay. I will be too."

She paused, mulling it over. "Okay… um… I love you… I mean, I already told you that, but… I don't think that you love me."

"I… I wouldn't say that," Arthur replied.

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes squinting curiously in a way only a Cobb could do. "You don't love me like I love you."

He sighed. "Look… Phillipa… I… I care about you a lot. I would go so far as to say that I do, I do love you, but there are… lots of different kinds of love. We all have people that we love, and we love them in different ways."

She nodded. "That's true."

"So… um…" he rung his hands. "I love you very much, Phillipa… but I love you in the same way that your father loves you, in the way James loves you, the way your Mom… loves you…" He took in a deep breath and stroked the top of her head. "You guys are… my family."

"Really? But… what about your real family?"

"You are my real family."

She gave a weak smile. "I… feel like I love you very much, Mr. Arthur, but now I don't know what kind of love I feel."

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah… it's complicated. I mean, you're so young, so it must be even more confusing… though you're very smart for you age, so maybe not… No, you probably are… Are you?"

She grinned a little. "You're so cute, Mr. Arthur."

He petted her head again. "Look… can I tell you something about myself?" She nodded. "Well… let's see… when I was in high school, I was in love with this girl… Hannah Jamison. She was the prettiest girl in school, and all the guys liked her, but because we sat next to each other in math, and I helped her out, I thought we had something really special… I asked her to go with me to prom and… she turned me down. I was so disappointed, and I felt… probably a lot like how you're feeling right now… but… the day before prom, when I was down in the dumps and feeling sorry for myself, this one girl, Colleen Hicks, told me that she wanted to go to the dance with me."

"Did you fall in love with her?"

"I'd like to say that I did… but I didn't. She didn't love me romantically either, but because she thought I was a nice person, she wanted to cheer me up. We were best friends for years, and I still call her on occasion when I can… Um… I know there was a moral here… What I'm saying is, that you shouldn't dwell on any pain in your heart. Things might feel bad, and to feel bad is a good thing because it reminds you that you're still human… but… everything gets better. Love… It's not something that comes once in a lifetime. Otherwise, we would have one person for the entirety of our lives. Do you understand?"

"…Sort of… So… even if you won't be my boyfriend, I can still tell you that I love you, right?"

He smiled. "Of course you can."

"But… you're not like a boyfriend at all… You're more like a big brother."

"If you'd like to think of me as such, I'd be honored."

She smiled. "Okay. Can I say something?"

"Fire away."

"Mr. Arthur… You're special to me. You're specialer… more special than any of my friends at school. I have all of your secrets, you know. I know that you smoke cigarettes, and I know that you sing when you work on stuff but only when no one's around, and I know you're afraid of the thunder, and I know- I know that you like to smell your coffee before you drink it, and I know that you laugh like coffee, and I know what your smile looks like. I know your favorite color is red, and I know that you can't cook, but you want to, and I know you like to sleep late because you work so hard, and I know that you drool when you sleep… and I know that, when things are really hard, and I'm really sad, that I can count on you to always be there to be that person I can cry on without worrying that you're gonna break down like Daddy did. I always know that you're gonna come back. I always know… I always know that you keep your promises. You're… the best boy in the whole world."

"You think far too highly of me… How do you know all this stuff?"

"I collected your secrets," she told him, "and I suppose that… if I'm gonna be able to fall in love with someone else, I should give them back to you." She handed him the book.

He opened it and touched the pages tenderly. "You… took all of these pictures of me?"

"Yes. Whenever you and Daddy were gone, I would look at them, and I wouldn't feel lonely. You're my best friend, Mr. Arthur."

He figured if he said anything, he would burst into some very un-masculine tears, and so he said nothing.

"So… if you can't be my boyfriend, I want you to still be my best friend… Please don't ever go away and not come back."

"I won't," he said quietly and pressed a finger to her nose. "I promise."

"And maybe… could you… just be my boyfriend for a second? Just one?"

He stared, confused. "I… suppose I could-"

She jumped up, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "I think I'll be okay now. Oh…" She opened the album again, to the picture of him smiling. "Can I keep this one?"

He smiled. "You can take a new one of me if you like. You can keep it in this album."

"But… I thought I should give it to you."

"I think it'd be better if you hung onto it," he said, handing it back to her, "as my official secret keeper."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up like stars.

He kissed her forehead. "Yes."

Phillipa left his room all smiles, tossing a casual hello back at Ariadne, Eames, and Cobb, who were all listening in through the door. Arthur leaned against the door jam, looking down at the three hunched figures. "Really?" he said flatly. "Really."

"They dragged me into it," Cobb said.

"Don't blame us," Eames complained.

"Just admit it that you were as curious as we were!" Ariadne elbowed Cobb.

"Wanker," Eames tacked on at the end.

Arthur huffed, and the three of them noticed that it sounded a lot like a snicker. Three sets of eyes turned to Arthur to see… him smiling. "You guys are idiots," he said.

"Oh, my God…" Ariadne gasped. "Pictures don't do justice."

"I know," Eames added, equally stunned.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"So beautiful, I could cry," Eames whispered, though admittedly he appeared to be teasing him at this point.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I hate you guys."

"We love you too, darling!" Eames called after him, and he couldn't help but smile because he knew it was true.

The job went off without a hitch, surprisingly enough, and so did Christmas. Eames thought it would be funny to buy Arthur a bunch of Playgirl magazines, and that nearly turned into a fist fight, but otherwise, everything went remarkably well. By the time school was in session again, Cobb started hearing about this boy, Trevor, all the time. Trevor was her age. It was relieving.

The foursome was working together again before long, and Cobb only had one wish.

Sometimes, he wished that his co-workers would shut the hell up about his kids.

END