Eames still had that note, actually, tucked away in a safety deposit box somewhere along with the postcards he'd sent Arthur when they were no separate jobs. Truth be told, Eames was something of a sentimentalist, and all those myriad scraps of paper from a life once lived were good at grounding him, sometimes better than his totem, really. Though partly that was because Eames had never been a strong believer in totems, though that was likely due to the fact that he knew what he looked like, and if he didn't look like he should, clearly he was dreaming. It was as simple as that as far as he was concerned.
Eames had gone back to scanning the room, filing mannerisms and movements away again, though he was still keeping an eye on Arthur, he knew more than a few of the other man's tells, and he could see the momentary of whether or not to leave as plainly as if Arthur'd been carrying a sign that said he was having a debate with himself. He'd go over and say hello soon enough, but for now he could wait, at least until the other man had settled again, at least as much as Arthur ever settled.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-10-26 06:37 am (UTC)Eames had gone back to scanning the room, filing mannerisms and movements away again, though he was still keeping an eye on Arthur, he knew more than a few of the other man's tells, and he could see the momentary of whether or not to leave as plainly as if Arthur'd been carrying a sign that said he was having a debate with himself. He'd go over and say hello soon enough, but for now he could wait, at least until the other man had settled again, at least as much as Arthur ever settled.