Eames was a man of many habits. He picked them up constantly; something from a forge he couldn't shake or something from hanging around the same people too long. And since the Fischer job he’d been hanging around Arthur too much, and his caution had become a new habit of Eames's. Now the last thing Eames did before he went to bed was go past whatever workshop they were using and make sure everything was still locked up tight.
He’d only noticed something off once, a window open when he was positive it’d been closed. That'd been all it took to get Arthur to agree to change workspaces and find the leak while Eames handled the client, pushing back their deadline since they had to start all over. Ariadne had thought they were both overreacting, but she’d only been a criminal for a year and a half, and all of it she’d spent by Arthur and Eames’s side, she hadn’t seen the danger that could come if you weren’t careful enough.
They worked together exclusively now, not through a conversation or agreement, but because people kept calling and Eames liked working with the best. Since Fischer, Eames had started doing double duty of forging and extracting, Ariadne was still building, and perfect Arthur was still on point. They had their mixes delivered by very expensive couriers from Yusuf who had lost what little taste for fieldwork he'd had in Fischer’s mind.
Now it was just the three of them spending weeks in each other’s pockets, and then separating for a few days until a new job came up and they were back at it again. They were almost always together, and never more than a phone call away.
That was how Eames justified his habit of picking up their habits. From Ariadne, he’d picked up a tendency to chew on pens. From Arthur, his incessant need to double and triple-check that the group was safe.
Which was why it was midnight and he was standing outside the office building where they were using an abandoned suite as their headquarters, looking at the motion-sensitive light that was still very much on in the office Arthur was using.
Without taking his eyes off the window Eames dialed Arthur’s number.
“What do you want, Eames? I’m about to go to bed,” Arthur said in his usual clipped tone.
“If that’s true then we have a problem,” Eames said, casually.
Arthur sighed. “Are you outside the office right now?”
“I am.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m the one in here.”
“See, that’s almost more worrying,” Eames said, jogging across the street to the office. He swiped the spoofed card Arthur had made for him and the door clicked open.
“More worrying than someone breaking into our workspace?”
“Yes,” Eames said as he moved through the marble-tiled entry to their little office suite. “I won’t let you work yourself into the ground.” The not like Cobb did went unsaid, but not unheard.
“You don’t get a say over my work habits,” Arthur said. Eames heard the chair squeak, probably as he leaned back too far.
“I do a bit.” Eames stepped into the open doorway of Arthur's office and confirmed what he’d imagined. Arthur's jacket was slung over another chair, his vest was unbuttoned, and his sleeves were rolled up. He was also leaning so far back he might as well have been laying down.
Arthur hung up and rolled his eyes. “No, you really don’t.”
“Tell yourself that if you must, but I’m the one leading these little jobs of ours. Now, why are you here so damn late?”
Arthur was silent for a while like he couldn’t decide if he was going to trust Eames with whatever it was. “I can’t find who militarized him,” Arthur said.
“Have you considered that he isn’t militarized?”
“No.”
Now it was Eames’s turn to sigh. He sat on the edge of the desk and stared directly at Arthur. “Why?”
Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“The thing where you ask questions that you already know the answer to like some psychic therapist.”
“Ah. So I’m right. It’s about Fischer.”
Arthur just glared at him.
“It was a cock up to miss that. But here’s the thing, darling, there were four other people on that job not counting Saito, two of which knew we would fall into limbo if we died so really should have been concerned about the possibility, and not one of us second-guessed you. Not one of us thought 'well he’s the heir to one of the largest conglomerates in the world and is currently involved in the day-to-day of the company so really he should be militarized.' It’s not all on you. I know you’re bad at teamwork because of that martyr complex you have, but we’re a team and that means watching out for shit like that.”
Arthur was staring over his left shoulder, his jaw clenched tight. “I don’t have a martyr complex.”
“Course not.” Eames winked at him, just to get Arthur to glare at him again. “Pack up, you need to sleep.”
For a brief moment, Arthur looked like he was going to argue, but then he just shook his head and started saving whatever files he had open on his laptop. A few minutes later they walked out the door together, Eames flicking out the light that had brought him there that night.
It was only a few blocks to Arthur’s hotel and only another block after that to Eames’s so they walked. It was quiet, the only real noise of the city coming from the freeway two blocks west and the occasional bar that they passed.
When they got to Arthur’s hotel he stopped under the awning before going in. Eames turned to him, waiting for whatever it was he had to say. “Thank you for…” he waved his hand in the direction of the office.
“For telling you you’re wrong? Any time, dearest, really.”
Arthur laughed and looked down at the ground in a very un-Arthur-like way; it was almost vulnerable. He must have been more tired than Eames had originally thought. “Yeah.” He looked back up at Eames and for a long time just stared at him like he was waiting. Eames didn’t know what he was waiting for though, he’d give it in a heartbeat if only he knew.
“Do y-” Arthur started at the same time Eames said “We can-”
Arthur laughed again and shook his head. “You go.”
“No, you.”
“Eames.”
Eames wanted to keep arguing because he desperately wanted to know what Arthur had been about to say. “Just going to say we can plan for general militarization if it will make you feel better. Even if he isn’t militarized.”
Arthur’s smile got brighter somehow. “It’ll be more work.”
Eames shrugged. “Add some flavor to this job.”
“This one could certainly use it.”
“Arthur? Complaining that a job is too boring?” Eames put his hand to his heart, pretending to be aghast.
“Shut up,” Arthur scoffed. “I’m only boring compared to you. Other people find me very interesting.”
“Not as much as I do.”
“Really?”
“You’re a riddle inside a mystery wrapped in an enigma,” Eames said, letting himself be a little too honest. There was something about the stillness outside hotels in the middle of a quiet night that always brought out the earnestness in Eames.
Arthur hummed quietly as if he was disappointed in the answer. “Then I should hope you don’t solve the riddle or you’ll leave me for the next enigma-wrapped pointman.”
Eames laughed and shook his head. “Oh dearest, the Tootsie Roll center is the best part of the Tootsie Pop.”
Something in Arthur’s face fell and he stared at Eames with wide eyes for just long enough for Eames to start kicking himself.
“I should let you get to bed,” Eames said, taking a step backward towards his hotel.
“Wait,” Arthur said, grabbing Eames’s hand so he couldn’t run away. “What are you doing for breakfast tomorrow?”
This time it was Eames’s turn to stare. “No particular plans. Why?”
“Would you like to join me? I’ll find a place and text you. Not the breakfast at the hotel, I can do a little better than that.” Arthur gave him a shy smile.
“Are you asking me on a breakfast date?”
“Yes.”
Eames’s heart swelled in his chest as a stupidly wide grin spread across his face. “Time and a place and I’ll be there.”
“Excellent,” Arthur said with a sharp nod that looked a little silly considering he was grinning from ear to ear.
Eames squeezed Arthur’s hand gently as they continued to stare at each other. Arthur shook himself out of it first. “Goodnight, Eames,” he said as he let go of his hand and backed away towards the automatic doors of the hotel.
“Goodnight, Arthur,” Eames said as he watched Arthur go, unable to stop smiling.
Maybe picking up other people’s habits wasn’t all bad.