Chapter Text
The first time Arthur meets him, Eames tries to fist-bump him, makes a crack about Camelot and commits crimes against humanity by wearing a leopard print t-shirt.
Eames is the fourth member of the team, as Cobb and Mal being on their second anniversary trip means that Arthur was going slowly crazy without work and is forced into working with other people. The other two members are Zoe, a forceful and un-compromising extractor, and Andrei, the silent and anti-social architect.
Arthur has worked with both of the others separately before, and likes them well enough. They get on with the job, and leave him to do his. Eames has come with Zoe’s recommendation, but Zoe has a terrible taste in men, so Arthur isn’t necessarily taking her word as gospel.
After their first unfortunate introduction, Eames proceeds to hit on Zoe, who pretends not to enjoy the attention, Andrei, who threatens to hack every single one of Eames’ fake identities if he persists, and Arthur, who ignores everything not directly related to the job.
You don’t have to like the people you work with, you only need to be able to trust them to do their jobs, and so Arthur goes under with the team trusting that Eames can get serious when the time calls for it, but also ready to improvise if he doesn’t.
When their mark’s apparently militarized subconsciousness manages to split up their team and traps an out-manned and out-gunned Arthur and Eames (looking like a voluptuous blonde in a clingy red dress) in a mess of corridors strangely missing any of the escape routes and traps Andrei was supposed to have designed, Arthur resigns himself to shooting themselves out of the dream and trying again another day.
He needn’t have bothered fussing about the blemish on his spotless job-completion record, though, because a moment later Eames flickers into a spotless copy of their mark and walks out to talk down the projections.
Arthur has seen fresh, young, cocky forgers try to impersonate the subject of a dream to their own projections, and every single time, it’s failed because the subconscious knows its own conscious far better than the conscious knows itself and can spot an impostor a mile away.
There’s no way it can work, and yet it does.
Afterwards, when they’ve rejoined Zoe and Andrei, (who mutters something vague about Somnacin doses in explanation of his messed up floor plan), when they’ve managed to break into the basement of the building where the safe holding their target information is, after they’ve woken up and scampered before their mark can awake, Arthur asks Eames about it.
“I’m just that good.” Is all Eames will say, and he’s back to his infuriatingly smug self enough that Arthur abandons the line of questioning in disgust.
Arthur doesn’t generally do celebratory drinks, but he’s known Zoe a long time and he’s willing to indulge her as she whines to Andrei about his blunder while he ignores her in favour of his beer. Eames tags along, and once he’s had a few drinks, he miraculously tones down the douche-bag vibe and Arthur’s starting to hear the brilliance hiding behind his careful mask. And yeah, okay, so once Eames is less of a dick, Arthur can actually appreciate that he’s not bad-looking, and even kind of hot.
There’s a moment when Arthur’s let down his guard enough to consider breaking his rules about not mixing work and sex (it’s just this once, I’ll probably never see him again) when Eames laughs at something Zoe’s said and forcefully drags her out of her seat to dance. Arthur knows Zoe’s married, and she’s devoted to her husband, and nothing is going to happen between her and Eames, but the sights still drops a cold lump of jealousy into his stomach and he vigorously shuts down any speculation about Eames before he excuses himself and goes back to his hotel room. His flight leaves at 6 am, anyway, he tells himself.