Title: Some Things Go Without Saying
by magique
Fandom(s): Inception
Pairing(s): Eames/Arthur
Genre/Rating: General/PG
Word Count: 317
Summary: Ariadne has made some observations about Eames. She's only half right.
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Notes: IDK WHAT THIS IS, BUT I ACTUALLY FINISHED SOMETHING SO I DON'T EVEN CARE IF IT'S THE WORST, MOST OOC THING EVER, OMG, I'M STILL HOLDING MYSELF A VICTORY PARTY IN MY HEAD. \o/ \o/ \o/


Eames flirts, meanly, like a boy pulling the pigtails of his first crush and he stares, openly, like a teenager discovering what his wet dreams are made of. It would almost be sweet if it hadn't been going on for so long.

"Don't you think this is getting a bit sad?" Ariadne asks eventually. Eames is sprawled in a chair, legs wide, hands linked behind his head, as he watches Arthur work. "I mean, are you ever going to actually say something?"

Eames' expression moulds into a smile when she nods significantly in Arthur's direction and then he laughs. "It's terribly thoughtful of you to say something, Ariadne, but rest assured it's also wholly unnecessary."

He stands, throws her a wink, and strolls across the room deliberately. "Arthur, darling," he calls (entirely for Ariadne's benefit, she thinks, since he's barely a metre from Arthur's desk), and Arthur looks up from his inches-thick pile of information on their current mark.

"What is it, Eames?" He sounds more tired than annoyed, but Ariadne still waits expectantly for a rebuff when Eames leans over and leers as he murmurs a reply, lips brushing Arthur's ear as he speaks. Instead, Arthur smiles faintly. "I need to finish this," he says, not quite softly enough for Ariadne to miss it.

"Finish it on the way to the hotel," Eames purrs, and Arthur laughs.

"You and I both know that'll never happen."

But he's already tidying away his things and standing to follow Eames out. They say brief goodbyes as they leave (and Eames makes lascivious faces behind Arthur's back because even if he's not lusting after Arthur like Ariadne thought, he's obviously still a fifteen-year-old about sex).

After they've gone, Ariadne goes over what little of their interaction she remembers with this new knowledge in mind and—and she hadn't seen it before, sure, but it isn't exactly out of place.

Huh.

End.