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[neededforger]

Eames could have gone back to Mombasa, he knew he could have, and he could have gone right back to what he'd been doing when Cobb came to find him. But he'd decided not to, after all, it had been a while since he'd been stateside, and he didn't have anyone breathing down his neck (yet) and it had also been a while since he'd gone to visit his mum, so he figured he'd stick around for a while, do some sightseeing.

The first thing to do, after debarking, and being careful not to pay attention to any of his compatriots, at least not actively, and never with more than the faint, gentle recognition of people who'd just spent more time in a plane together than most people spent together at work in a day. He paged through his phone, checking his funds, not at all surprised to find that Saito was a man of his word, and they'd already been paid.

The next thing he did, while waiting for his checked baggage to come around on the carousel, was to check mid-range hotels in the area, looking for one that had a week's vacancy at such short notice, since that was the minimum he was going to need to wait for the world to settle again and start looking for another job. Booking didn't take long either, which he was pleasantly surprised by.

That evening he found himself in the restaurant down the block from the hotel, enjoying a celebratory steak dinner, and collecting details. The way that woman folded her hands, the way that man held his knife and fork, the way the bartender smiled at one of the waitresses. Each of these, and others, were stored away for later perusal, practice, and eventual use. He didn't always have to forge someone in particular, sometimes he just had to be a person other than who he was, background, security and observation and those little details could make or break a character.

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[littlspecificty]

It had been quite a while since Arthur had been back in the states, too. He had spent most of his time in Europe, Japan, Russia, and even Australia over the years. So, being back "home" was a bit of a change but at the same time, it felt like he had never really left. Somehow, it felt like nothing had really changed in his absence. It almost felt calming in a way; not having to worry about certain customs or getting his currency exchanged, etc. He decided that he might stay a while. Especially since Cobb's name had been cleared (Arthur felt like he could come back with less guilt attached - and wouldn't have to go check on Cobb's kids himself).

However, while he felt happy for his friend, he knew in the back of his mind that he would have to deal with the inevitable fact that he was now out of a partner. A partner who had been a friend, too.

He would have to look for another job soon enough, as well. And it would be on his own. It wasn't the first time and Arthur found he often preferred to be alone but... Perhaps he had just gotten too used to being with Cobb. He'd simply just have to get used to working on his own again.

The whole job had been fraught with dangers from the outset. The whole thing had hinged on Cobb finding the right people to help them. Arthur hadn't wanted to do such a dangerous job, but Dom being his partner (and Arthur having promised Mal years ago that he would take care of him), he felt like he had no choice. He had to be there because no one else would do. He was the best at what he did - at least he often felt he was. That still didn't mean that it had been a smart choice to take the job. (Even if it had paid well, as Arthur saw when he looked up his bank account.)

And, as if to add insult to injury [of Arthur's pride], Cobb had gotten Eames involved in this whole thing. Granted, if they were going to have any Forger at all, Eames was the best. But Arthur hadn't really wanted to see the other man again, even if it had been three years since they last saw or spoke to each other. Arthur had actually been surprised by Eames' congenial air towards him at first - though he didn't let it show. He had just gone along as if their history with each other had been nothing but strictly professional, keeping his distance. Eames, of course, was the ass he usually was. But he still came through for all of them.

Arthur had fucked up on his information on the Fischer job, had nearly gotten them all killed, caught, and/or thrown into Limbo. He still didn't know how he managed what he did to help complete the job but he did. After that mistake he was hell-bent and determined to make sure they got out alive (even in taking on all the dream's projections himself). In some ways, he was still kicking himself over that stupid mistake.

But in the here and now, he was booked at a relatively decent hotel, in the United States, having successfully completed the impossible task of Inception. He was also alone in his own booth at a restaurant a block away from said hotel. You can bet money he was having at least one drink after the day he had had. He thought, in spite of everything that had happened and was to happen as a result, he deserved it. Leaning back into the cushioned seat that curved around him, he allowed his eyes to close, trying to decompress from the day's events.

[littlspecificty]

Arthur still planned on going out but wanted a minute to collect himself, not believing this. Any of this. He checked his die again and he nearly threw it across the room in frustration. It was like the more he tried to resist Eames, the more everything around him kept pushing them together. It made him want to just get the fuck out of Dodge. It was just pure instinct for him to resist something outside of him trying to get him to do something he didn't want to do. He didn't want to be with Eames... Right? They had already been down that road and saw how it ended. Why the fuck would they need to do that again?

He needed to get out, go for a walk, get away for a few hours. He grabbed his dark brown leather jacket and headed out. When he closed his door, he paused, hand still on the handle, seeing the piece of paper. He looked around before grabbing it and was frozen to the spot, staring at the sketch that Eames had obviously made while he had been at the cafe.

"Goddammit." He mumbled as he could feel this small ache in his chest grow larger the longer he looked at the sketch and remembered. A part of him wanted to crumble it up and throw it away but... the other part, that didn't want to do that, won out. He cursed under his breath again - at himself and at Eames - and folded it back up, putting it in his jeans pocket and walked down the hall (shooting a glare at Eames' door as he passed) and towards the elevators.

He definitely needed to get out for a few hours.

[neededforger.livejournal.com]

"It would, as a matter of fact." He said, blinking up when there was a knock at the door, "Ah, that'll be desert, sit tight." He unfolded from his comfortable sprawl, going to answer the door and accepting the covered tray from the girl on the other side, favoring her with a wink and a tip before nudging the door shut with a foot and returning to the couch, "Here we are." He said, setting the tray down and handing Arthur his dish, settling back with his own slice of cheesecake, already making contented little sounds in the back of his throat.