Chapter Text
“You know, this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t antagonized the mark.” Arthur yells over the sound of the waves and the speedboat’s motor. “I warned you several times that he’s got an itchy trigger finger.”
“But if I hadn’t antagonised him, we wouldn’t have figured out what his pressure points were.” Eames replies, yelling right into his ear because he’s a bastard like that.
“You guys are disgusting.” Ariadne complains behind the wheel as she steers the boat through the coral maze she’s building up as they try to escape the mark’s very-much militarized projections. “I would tell you to get a room, but then, you just might, and we’re on a job in case you’ve forgotten.”
Arthur frowns at the back of Ariadne’s head. “What? I’m pointing out his unprofessional behaviour! How is that unprofessional?”
“-my unprofessional-? I’m sorry, please remind me who fired the first shot, please? I’m a bit foggy on the details seeing as I was being beaten up at the time, but I do believe that you, Mister Pot, are calling the kettle-”
“See, this?” Ariadne turns her head slightly to yell back at Arthur, “This is exactly what I mean. It’s sickening. I’m going to have to call my dentist. I’m sending you the bill, I hope you know, because I know very well what Eames does to paperwork.”
“-oi!” Eames stops mid rant to tune in to the conversation. “That was one time, and I really needed some paper of that particular thickness, and the dye I was using was going to change hue if I didn’t use it right then, and anyway, I was kindly provided with another copy soon after anyway.”
“And by ‘another copy’, you mean the one the repo man handed to you as he towed your Ferrari away?” Arthur interjects.
“Guys!” Ariadne interrupts again, and shuts off the engine. “I think we lost them at the shipwreck. Eames, do you have the file? I swear to god, if after all this you lost it…”
Eames takes out a waterlogged envelope from his pocket. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it, keep your hair on.”
“It’s completely soaked! What the heck have you been doing?” Arthur demands, scandalised.
“You know,” Ariadne interjects brightly, “if I shoot myself out of this dream, you two can continue arguing until this level collapses on top of you. Or, you could, you know, read the damn thing and then follow me up. Whichever.”
Eames amicably hands over the file to Ariadne, who has the best short term spatial memory for the design specs they’re stealing from their mark.
After she’s done, after they’ve woken in the first level and soon after in reality, they clean up the mark’s apartment as if they were never there, and make themselves scarce before he can wake up.
Ariadne and the fourth member of their team leave, Ariadne with a jaunty wave and an eye roll when Eames blows a kiss at her.
Arthur follows Eames down the stairs to the lobby, and just before Eames is about to leave through the front door of the apartment building, pulls him in for a quick kiss.
“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Eames asked with a raised eyebrow.
Arthur smirks. “For only half screwing up the job. Watch out, or I’ll start setting a higher standard for you.”
“Well,” Eames says, “with a reward system like that, I might be inclined to follow your anal-retentive plans to the letter next time.”
Arthur saunters past him and through the door. “Let’s not get too ambitious, shall we?”
The taxi that Arthur pre-arranged is waiting at the curb.
“Where to?” The cabbie asks without turning around.
Arthur looks over at Eames and smiles when Eames answers: “Home.”