For the If You Dare Challenge on the HPFC.
— Prompt & Prompt Number: Traffic Jams, Prompt 984
When Eames struts into the office, his jacket slung casually over his shoulder, Arthur can't help but frown. He reshuffles the papers in his hand, tapping them against his desk.
"You're late, Mr. Eames," he says. "Again."
"Traffic jam, darling."
Arthur looks up, raising an eyebrow. "Again?"
"It's Paris." He collapses into his seat with a flourish, waving a head to dismiss Arthur's concerns. "I'm shocked anyone manages to turn up to work on time."
"Some of us account for the traffic by leaving earlier."
Eames winks. "Excellent advice. I'll keep that in mind for tomorrow, darling."
But the next morning, when Arthur shakes Eames shoulders to wake him, Eames grunts but makes no effort to move. Arthur gives a small smile, pulls the blankets back over the slumbering man, and then slips out of the hotel room by himself.
And when Eames, two hours later, turns up at the office, Arthur looks up and gives him a wry smile—a wry smile which Eames returns with a wide grin.
"Traffic jam, darling. Tomorrow, I promise."
Arthur rolls his eyes. "Tomorrow, Mr. Eames."