A/N: A short vignette that I wanted to throw into a chapter but it just didn't seem to fit anywhere. I'll add more of these as the story goes on. They're not entirely meaningless; one of them (yes, I've already started drafting them- sad!) will be the key to the mystery. Also, did you know that vignette used to mean, "something that may be written on a vine-leaf"?

Anyway, thanks to all the folks who have left a review. Seriously- a heartfelt thank you! you guys keep me motivated and let me know I'm not just writing into the ether. *virtual hug*

The Extractor and the Forger

"Oxford or Cambridge?"

Eames looked up from his notes and then smiled up at Ana, leaning back in the creaky metal chair. Arthur's new protégé looked down at him with an inquisitive yet expectant expression. What set her apart from the others, the reason why Eames was willing to indulge her at the moment, was the lack of intent behind the question.

He could read people. In fact, he considered himself an expert on people. Eames didn't think you could successfully put on the skin of another person without having a good idea about people as a whole. Call it sociology or anthropology but you couldn't learn how to be an individual without knowing group dynamics.

And Ana was an easy enough creature to read. Compared to the sharks in the room she was, in a phrase, completely harmless.

Where in the world did you find this little gem, Arthur?

It wasn't the first time Eames had thought the question. Early yesterday morning, when Arthur went through the introductions between the team in the abandoned warehouse they were calling their HQ, Ana stuck out like a sore thumb. It wasn't really anything about her looks that gave her away but her manner.

Ana had stood behind Arthur, clad in a green silk dress, like a child might hide behind the legs of a favored caretaker. Though the others were intelligent enough – Michael as their chemist and Kirkpatrick as their architect – they had merely taken her at face value as a new member and moved on. Cobb's retirement had left a hole in their world and extractors were popping up, all in a mad dash to call themselves the best. Being vouched by Arthur was in itself a better recommendation than Cobb's word.

Ana had considered them all with bright, curious eyes but she'd trailed behind Arthur like a duckling, keeping close to him whenever possible. It was obvious she was new to the business; she couldn't have been much younger than Arthur or himself but her wide-eyed wonder made her seem childlike and impossibly green.

On-the-job training for the newbie.

Ana was a treat to watch: though she was slender and long-limbed, she moved awkwardly, as if too busy examining her surroundings to care about grace or style. She was quick to smile and there was a sweetness about her that Eames found refreshing. Most people he encountered these days were jaded and harsh, all jagged edges and straight lines, hidden agendas and false faces… But Ana was soft and warm.

The girl is a bloody open book.

Eames felt a sliver of annoyance at Arthur at the thought. For all he knew, Ana might be a brilliant extractor but she was as civilian as one could get. Even Ariadne in the early days of her tenure in their field was more hardened. Ana was vulnerable and as such, could prove to be a liability even on an easy job such as this was.

All these things flashed through Eames' mind as he regarded Ana's face.

"What about Oxford or Cambridge?" he asked.

Ana tilted her head to the side like a bird. "I've already determined you were in the military. Probably MI6 though I'm sure you can't and won't speak about that with me. It's all in the way you hold yourself. Time spent in special services leaves its mark on people, even in affectation. You're a world traveler but you prefer warmer climes, especially equatorial latitudes. Your family is titled, wealthy, and you're probably the oldest son. You're well-educated. But I can't seem to figure out if you got your degree from Oxford or Cambridge."

Eames sat up, startled. His smile grew wider even as he felt his hackles rise.

"Naughty girl, my records are–"

Ana looked surprised. "Do you have records that still exist? I would have thought you'd destroy them. Besides, I don't even know your name. Your real names, either one."

Eames rewound the past two days and considered. Ana hadn't gone near Arthur's laptop so far as he could tell and the only thing he could remember her reading were the files Arthur had given all of them on the mark. She'd remained in Eames' line of sight while they worked, occasionally looking up and studying everyone with a small smile on her lips.

And that, of course he saw it now, was the answer.

Observant little brat, aren't you?

But Eames was charmed and not a little impressed. She may have been guileless but it seemed she was much, much sharper than he'd given her credit for and he rarely underestimated people.

"And what made you think Oxford or Cambridge? I could have gone anywhere else," Eames said, neatly side stepping her other observations. He noticed she didn't bother asking for confirmation either, as if she were beyond that point. "St. Andrews, perhaps."

"With your family? Not likely." It was a statement, clear and direct and… Well, accurate. "I imagine that if you'd gone to the wrong school, you'd be cut off."

"An inheritance is of no concern to me," Eames said. "Didn't Arthur tell you? Dreaming for a living is quite lucrative."

Ana shook her head. "I'm sorry, I wasn't clear. I didn't mean cut off from money. Cut off from family."

Eames' felt his smile waver slightly but he rallied himself. "You are a very dangerous creature, aren't you, Ana?"

She seemed taken aback by his tone and she took a step back. "Not at all. It's… It's all very obvious, isn't it?"

"Is it now? I don't see how it can be. Why don't you explain–"

"What's going on?" Arthur seemed to materialize beside Ana and she seemed relieved by his presence. To Eames' amusement and irritation, Arthur put his hand on her lower back, as if to reassure her.

Ana opened her mouth and then hesitated, glancing at Eames. She looked at him apologetically.

"I've offended Eames," she began but Eames cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"We were just having a conversation, Arthur. No harm, no foul," he said. Ana looked surprised and he winked at her. "You can scamper off now into whatever little hole you've fashioned from your papers. Ana and I are just fine."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. Then he turned to Ana and gestured at their table.

"I just spoke with a contact I have at Richardson's firm. He has some new information that I think you could use," he said, already beginning to pull Ana away.

"Really now, Arthur, she's allowed to play with the other kids, isn't she?"

"Maybe you should spend less time playing and more time reading up on Richardson's schedule," Arthur said.

"I've already memorized the lot of it," Eames said. He eyed the PASIV, still in its case at the far corner of the room. "And I'm sure Ana could use a break. Care to do a test run, pet? I'd like to see what you can do."

Ana looked at Arthur and Eames saw her take in the set of his shoulders, the line of his jaw.

"Next time," she said simply and smiled at Arthur, already turning away from Eames.

Arthur seemed pleased by her show of loyalty and they walked away together, heads bent close and Arthur's hand still on the small of her back.

Where indeed have you been hiding her all this time, Arthur?

Because Eames realized then: Arthur hadn't merely discovered Ana. He'd likely known about her for a long time and plucked her out of her life and into theirs just as Cobb's departure was beginning to be felt.

He looked at her face again. She really was exquisite, beautiful and bright in the shadowy warehouse. She said something in Arthur's ear that made the other man grin, transforming his normally pinched face. Michael and Kirkpatrick seemed not to care, lost in their own worlds of chemicals and right angles. He supposed she was safe with them then, something Arthur probably already sussed out. Michael and Kirkpatrick may have been sharks but they were fair and patient and generally trustworthy.

At least there's less chance of danger with those two. Easy enough job to cut her teeth on.

But Eames didn't know Ana and as he turned back to the thick sheath of schedules on his desk, he knew he shouldn't really give a shit about what could happen to her. Better she learn to toughen up quickly than be bait for predators. He'd see her again or not; she'd either be a great extractor or simply eye candy. Whatever.

But part of him thought that it would have been a shame for something to dim that light. Especially when she seemed to burn so fiercely – all curious eyes and razor sharp observations.

I do hope you know what you're doing, Arthur.

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