Prompt Post No. 17
Welcome to Round 17 of the Inception Kink Meme.
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He cannot fucking wait to get to Arthur's house.
Speaking of: Arthur does not live in a fancy house. It's a discreet two storied thing on the side of a hill that looks half-demolished from the road. There is a small pool shaded by trees and a plastic table with no chairs. Eames hires another cab to take him from the Brazilian bakery to Arthur's.
When he arrives, he is greeted by Arthur's sister, Suzanne, whose car is thoughtfully blocking the driveway. (Eames knows there's footpath that Arthur cleared himself out the back, but he doubts she does. Anyway, he was there when Arthur was working on it. By flashlight. At night.)
He fishes his key out of his pocket and steps inside, cringing when the cold air hits his skin. Americans, he thinks, but abandons the thought when Suzanne comes into his line of vision.
"Arthur," she calls down the hallway to his study, keeping eye contact with Eames. She looks extremely alarmed.
"I'm here," Eames adds. He stays in the foyer.
Arthur emerges from the hall and pushes his sister gently towards the living room. She moves out of the way, but continues to stare between them, eyes narrowing when Arthur leans in and gives Eames a dry kiss.
"You looks stupid," he says. "Why didn't you take the car I sent? I left you a less ridiculous disguise."
"Playing it safe," Eames says, but privately agrees. "You could've told me."
"Then it wouldn't have been safe," Arthur says.
"Are you going to shoot him?" Suzanne asks. "He's here to kill you, right?" She's gripping the counter top anxiously, which makes Eames smile. (Arthur does the same thing.)
Arthur gives him look, overly dramatic--eyes narrowed, brow creased, lips pursed--and sighs. "Not today, I don't think."
"I'm Eames," he says belatedly.
"Oh," she says.
And then, "We didn't think you were real."
*
In the next four hours, things happen:
Suzanne leaves and returns with Arthur's mother, who is dressed primly in a sundress and sensible shoes. Eames changes into jeans and a tee that he left there several years prior and wonders if Arthur just steals his clothes steadily, moving him in against his wishes. He's left to entertain ridiculous questions from Arthur's family while Arthur deals with--whatever he's dealing with. It sounds like Italian, which is not a good sign. The only Italians Arthur knows hate him. Mia Gessoni is probably asking for his soul in exchange for not donating his pictures to WikiLeaks.
Eames reads the actual report for the first time inbetween giving detailed facts about his personal life to Suzanne, who is half the time on the phone with her editor. Arthur's mother drinks her way through all of Arthur's diet coke and watches CNN too loudly; she completely ignores Eames.
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"We can't stay here," he tells Eames. Suzanne and their mother look at him in alarm.
"Where to?"
"I don't know. Somewhere boring where they don't watch the news."
"I would've been fine where I was, then," Eames says. Arthur sighs.
"Look, Mom," he starts, and his mom interrupts him.
"I don't want to know," she says, hand over her face. "Just call sometime and let me know you're alive. If I see you on the news you're not invited to Christmas."
Eames laughs.
*
In the end, nothing happens.
Honestly.
Arthur goes through five more burn phones, and they have to leave Nice and Oria in the same night, and they end up threatening to send WikiLeaks a picture of Mia to shut her up, but nothing happens. It was long enough ago with enough of a negative spin in the report that the public chalks it up to irresponsible government spending on impossible, science-fiction technology. Arthur's dad, a California congressman, gets some flak for having a son involved in the program. His mom invites them to Thanksgiving, which they decline, and Arthur has to pay his sister ten grand to stop her from selling him out.
"That was--" Arthur says, and makes an irritable hand motion. With his other hand, he tugs Eames' arm closer around his shoulders.
"Ridiculous," Eames supplies. Arthur shrugs.
"I'm sure it's not the last time," he says. Eames nods; he takes a sip of his drink.
"I hate the media," he says. Eames snorts. "Cobb didn't even take his flight," he says.
They look out over the Colorado River, feet propped against the off-road bumper of their rental Jeep. "He thinks I overreact," Arthur says.
It becomes apparent that he's looking for affirmation. Eames rubs Arthur's chest through his shirt and kisses the skin behind his ear. "It's over," he says. "Nothing happened."
Arthur squirms a bit. They wave when a group of rafters float by, and Arthur steals Eames' douche-bag sunglasses.
After a long stretch of silence, Arthur concedes. "Yeah," he says. "I guess nothing did."
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Bahahaha at Cobb not even bothering to catch his flight. OH COBB, has retirement made you laaazy? :D
Thank you for the fill!
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