Fanfiction: Eames Speaking (Idiots, Flowers and Death Threats, Oh My)
A/N: The title makes this sound both more random and more original than it is. Essentially - it's five conversations in which Arthur called Eames and then one in which Eames Called Arthur. The whole thing probably makes more sense in my head than it does on paper, so I'm sorry if it makes no sense & sucks. First attempts in the fandom and all.
---
“Eames speaking. Who is this and why the hell are you calling at two in the morning?”
“Hello, Mr Eames. My name is Arthur Drake. I have a job for you.”
“And?”
“It’s worth two million dollars, in total. You’d get a thirty, maybe forty, per cent cut. I’m willing to negotiate.”
“I only work interesting jobs, you know.”
“The Mark is obsessed with Indiana Jones, Egyptology and James Bond. I can assure you it is going to be interesting.”
“I’m in.”
“I’ll see you in Washington then. All the other details will be e-mailed to you. Good night, Mr Eames.”
---
“Eames... Ah, shit, that hurts... Eames speaking.”
“Do I even want to know why there are seventeen messages from you on my phone? Twelve of which involve you attempting to proposition me?”
“Oh. Hi, Arthur.”
“I told you no drinking on the job. You need to be focused, for god’s sake.”
“How can I ever make it up to you? Ow! Okay, how the hell did that get there?”
“Just get to the warehouse, alright? Luce says the architecture’s almost ready. That’s if you’re not too hung-over.”
“...So then I guess that’s a no?”
“Idiot.”
---
“Eames speaking.”
“You are dead. You are so dead that your zombie will need its own funeral. I will kill you. I will track you down and then I will kill you. Possibly with a nuke.”
“I take it you got the flowers then?”
“...Yeah.”
“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, Arthur.”
---
“Eames speak-”
“She’s dead.”
“Fuck.”
“They say Cobb did it.”
“Fuck. Okay, I’ll get the next flight there. Where are you?”
“...”
“Arthur, I said, which city are you in?”
“...”
“Arthur, did you hear me? I--”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t come over here. I’ll handle this.”
“Shit, Arthur, don’t pull that on me.”
“I said don’t.”
---
“Eames speaking.”
“It’s Arthur.”
“I know. It’s called caller ID. What do you want?”
“Listen, I just wanted to say... I mean, about... Shit. Look, I’ve got a job running in San Francisco. Nice reward, not too high-risk, could use a Forger though. You want in?”
“I’m in the middle of something else right now.”
“Oh.”
---
“Hello?”
“Hi.”
“Why are you calling me from across the warehouse?”
“I was wondering if you’d want to go for drinks after we finish packing all this up. ...Please?”
“Yes. I mean, okay.”
“Great. See you then.”
Arthur ends the call, looks down at his phone, then looks up at Eames. From the other side of the warehouse, the Forger grins and waves and, almost despite himself, Arthur finds himself smiling back.