Inception: The Violet Hour
Title: The Violet Hour
Pairing: Arthur/Eames, Dom/Mal, Ariadne, OC
Rating: PG-13 (At least for now, I'll warn if it goes up.)
Part: 1/?
Word Count: 3,677
Warnings: None.
Summary: On a morning where everything that can go wrong does, Arthur finds himself in need of a babysitter. Enter Eames.
Arthur was awoken by a gentle prodding against his forehead. He rolled over on instinct in an effort to escape from it. He still wasn’t fully conscious yet, which meant that, with any luck, he might be able to drift back off for at least another hour.
Violet had come knocking on his door last night, a teary eyed mess from a nightmare. He had let her burrow into his arms, running his hands in circles across her back to soothe the tension out of her small frame. It had been enough to ease away her whimpers, but actual sleep hadn’t come until after she had been given a glass of warm milk with cinnamon and honey mixed in. And that had been somewhere around three in the morning.
His brow forehead downward as the pokes returned, harder this time. He lifted a hand in an attempt to brush it away. “Not quite yet, Vi,” he muttered.
“But, Dad, today is the big day,” came the response.
Arthur frowned as he tried to remember what she was referring to. He did his best to force the grogginess from his mind so that he could flip through his inner schedule. There had been a lull in projects as of late, which he had been grateful for given the fact that there was an enormous one coming up with…
His eyes snapped open, all traces of sleepiness gone, as he remembered what today was. The architecture firm at which he worked had managed to land Mamoru Saito, head of Proclus Global, as a highly lucrative client. The man wanted them to design a new company building for them and there was a meeting this morning to go over the initial blueprints. A meeting that, based on a quick glance at the clock, he was dangerously close to being late for.
He scrambled out of bed while his daughter wiggled her way out after him. He sent her off to her own room to get dressed for the day while he did the same. It calmed him down somewhat to go through the familiar motions of putting on a suit. He had selected one of the finest in his wardrobe so that, even if he felt frazzled, he would at least look professional.
It only took him a short time in the bathroom to run through the last touches, slicking his hair into its usual style and dabbing on a hint of cologne. Then he headed out into the main part of the apartment where Violet was had already gotten her breakfast together. He was in such a rush to get all of his work things together that he let her have a second bowl of the sugary slop she called cereal.
It was, of course, just as everything had begun to settle down again that fate decided to throw him another curve ball.
He was just starting to wonder where the babysitter was. Alice had been with them long enough to realize how Arthur liked punctuality and always called ahead if there was even the slightest chance she might be late. He let out a small sigh of relief as the phone rang, displaying a familiar number on the caller ID. He snatched the phone from its cradle, lifting it to his ear while he pressed the button to answer the call. “What is it this time, Alice? Is the traffic bad again?”
The words he got in response came out like a croak. “Mr. Moss, I’m really sorry, but-”
Arthur reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, cutting her off as he guessed what had happened. “You’re sick, aren’t you?”
“I really am sorry,” Alice said. “I would still try to come in but the doctor said that I have the flu and I don’t want to risk giving that to Violet.”
It wasn’t as if Arthur would have demanded for her to come when it sounded like she was dying over the phone, but the chance that Violet might catch it too was enough to affirm that decision. “It’s fine, Alice, I’m not upset,” he said. “You should be taking it easy right now, anyway. But is there anyone you could suggest as a backup?”
Alice wasn’t able to answer right away since one of her sniffs had turned into a bout of coughs. She was eventually able to wheeze out an answer, however. “There’s always Patrick?”
Arthur didn’t groan into the phone, but it was a close thing. He had only employed Patrick once, back when Alice had had to attend a family wedding. She had sworn that he was suitable, but Violet had responded to him in the reverse of how she did with her original babysitter. She was a quiet girl by nature, preferring solitary activities to more active ones, but if she liked someone then she would almost always invite them to share in whatever she was doing. It was when she would pursue her interests alone, only talking to the other person out of necessity, that it was a problem.
“I’ll think about it,” he said. Although he had a feeling that they both knew that he probably wouldn’t.
“Okay,” Alice snuffled. “I’m sorry for messing everything up, but I’ll try to find a way to make up for it. Maybe I could babysit sometime for free or-”
Arthur cut gently across her babbling. “Alice, it’s fine. I’m not going to blame you for getting sick. Just go back to sleep for now and we’ll talk about this once you’re better.”
Alice was already starting to sound drowsy as she replied. “Okay, Mr. Moss, thank you.” The other line went dead soon after.
Arthur hung up his own phone before dialing in a number he had memorized ages ago. He spoke the instant the call was answered, no even waiting for a greeting from the other end. “Mal, I’m having a crisis.”
The female half of his two best friends and bosses didn’t miss a beat as she replied to him in her soft, French accented voice. “Well, we imagined something must have happened once we arrived to find that you weren’t you weren’t already here. You do like to be first to such appointments, after all.”
Arthur grimaced as he ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to oversleep. It’s just that Violet had a nightmare last night that took her awhile to calm down from. And now the babysitter has canceled on me since she has the flu.” He knew that she would be able to understand his prattling since she had two children of her own.
And, sure enough, there came a sympathetic tuting noise. “Do you not have any backup?”
“Not anyone who would be suitable,” Arthur replied.
“Then can I suggest someone?” Mal asked. She knew him well enough to take his silence as an assent. “There’s a man that Dom met who looks after James and Philippa for us. He is a lovely man and excellent with children. Not to mention, he lives right in your area. Shall I call him for you?”
Arthur was a little wary of leaving his daughter with someone he hadn’t been able to do a proper inspection of, but it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice by this point. Besides, he trusted Mal’s judgment. “That would be great, thanks.”
“You’re welcome, my dear,” Mal said. “And I will make sure to tell him to hurry.”
--
Arthur practically dove at the door once he heard someone knock on it. He couldn’t help being impressed by how fast the person had managed to get there.
Any such positive thoughts disappeared, however, the moment he opened the door.
The man on the other side of the door was the exact opposite of what he had been expecting. He was too distracted by the garish yellow shirt, at first, since its color seemed to want to burn itself into his eyes to take in much else. Then he began to notice the way the fabric was stretched across so rather substantial muscles and…were those tattoos peaking out from underneath the short sleeves?
Fortunately, the man seemed to take no notice of how flabbergasted Arthur was by his appearance. His mouth-God, those lips looked like they belonged on a girl-spread into a wide smile as he held out his hand. “Hey there, I’m Eames. Mal said that you were expecting me.”
Arthur knew that he should say something or, at the very least, take the hand offered to him. The words on the tip of his tongue, however, were something to effect of, “You look like some sort of thug,” and he wasn’t about to let himself be that impolite, even if it was true. He felt his stomach twist somewhat in embarrassment as Eames’ smile faltered, but he still couldn’t think of anything proper to say.
Then a small hand darted up to grab onto the hand that Eames was still holding out.
Both men looked down to see Violet there, staring back at them with a polite smile. “Good morning, Mr. Eames. My dad isn’t trying to be rude, it’s just been a busy morning so he’s a little bit flustered.”
Arthur shook his head, unable to fight off a small smile of his own. He somehow always managed to forget how well his daughter was able to understand him. “I’m sorry, she’s right,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be impolite, but things have been a little crazy around here.”
Eames just chuckled good-naturedly in response. “No worries, I gathered as much from Mal. Although neither of you have to use the ‘Mr’; Eames will do just fine.” He squeezed the hand in his grasp then waved it around in the air, grinning as it made Violet giggle. “Now, is there anything I should know about this little one? Allergies or anything?”
“Well, for starters, her name is Violet,” Arthur said. “She doesn’t have any major food allergies just don’t let her have too much in the way of milk products. And she didn’t sleep so well last night so she might have to take a nap.” He shot an amused glance at Violet, tapping her nose as she wrinkled it up. “I know you’re a big girl now but that doesn’t mean you don’t need some rest.”
“Okay, Dad.” She lifted her free arm up into the air with a hopeful expression on her face. “Can I have a hug?”
Arthur felt something warm settle in his chest just like every time his daughter managed to be so sweet without meaning to. He dipped down to wrap his arms around her, squeezing her tightly. “You don’t have to ask for something like that, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he pulled away. “Now be good for Mr. Eames, alright?”
Violet pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes so that she could press a kiss to his cheek. “Everything will be fine, Dad. Now go have a great day at work and say hi to everyone for me.”
“Of course,” Arthur promised. “I love you.”
“Love you too!” Violet beamed back. Then she began to tug Eames into the apartment by the hand as her father slipped out it. The last thing that could be heard, as the door closed, was her asking what movie he wanted to watch.
It sounded like they were off to a good start at least. Arthur just hoped that it would stay that way while he was at work.
--
Despite the hectic start to the day, the rest of it ran smoothly. He was greeted with the news on his arrival that Saito was in fact running late, which gave him the time to prepare that he thought he had lost. Ariadne, bless her, had brought coffee for everyone as well. He had would admit to having some reservations after Dom brought her into the firm fresh out of college. She had been a favorite of Miles, however, who was Mal’s father along with being a brilliant architect, and he was starting to see just why that was. Besides, anyone who was able to remember just how he liked his coffee in the morning received his approval.
When Saito did arrive, he approved of each design plan that he was shown. There were only a few changes that he wished to make, none of which were that difficult. Besides, the man proved to be open to suggestions if any of his ideas would be too hard to pull off. And for Arthur, who had worked with high maintenance clients in the past, this was something to be grateful about.
The work wasn’t over after Saito left, however, since it was time to get a head start on the final drafts of the blueprints. Arthur was sketching in the details on one for the first floor when he sensed that he was being watched. He lifted his head up to see that it was Mal, who offered him a smile as his eyes landed on her. “What is it?”
“I just wanted to know what you thought of Mr. Eames,” Mal said.
“Oh, is that who you sent over?” Dom cast a grin over at his friend. “He doesn’t look like your average babysitter, does he?”
Arthur pressed his lips together into a firm line. “I guess that’s one way of putting it,” he said.
“Really, Arthur!” Mal exclaimed. “I thought you would know better than to judge a book by its cover.”
“You didn’t see the shirt he was wearing, Mal,” Arthur said. “Anything that color should be outlawed under risk of causing permanent blindness.”
Ariadne looked up from her own work with her bottom lip thrust out in a mock pout. “Aw, did it offend your tender fashion sensibilities?”
Arthur shot her a look, although he was pretty sure it was more amused then sharp. “Yours would have been offended too,” he told her.
Mal waved her hand around in a dismissive gesture. “That is enough about his fashion sense.” An almost wicked smile settled onto her lips. “What did you think of his looks? He is rather handsome, is he not?”
Arthur let out a groan at this, burying his face in his hands. “Mal, please tell me you aren’t trying to set me up with the babysitter.”
Mal, rather predictably, didn’t bother to answer the question. “He is actually an artist,” She said instead. “He only babysits to make a little cash while he’s between commissions.”
“Ooh, really?” Ariadne said. She nudged Arthur with her foot under the table. “You should ask to see his work sometime!”
Arthur held his hands up in the air while shaking his head. “That’s it,” he announced, “I am going back to work. You have all become too ridiculous to communicate with anymore.” He could already see the mischievous look that Mal was exchanging with Ariadne and even Dom was pressing a hand to his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh.
He could understand why Mal was trying to encourage him towards Eames, though, even if it was a little annoying. It had been a good amount of time since he had had anything beyond one night stands. He was bisexual, which meant it was a little easier for him to find someone who he would want to get to know better. However, he still had yet to meet someone who didn’t tense up at the mention of his daughter. It varied from the people who considered a child to be too much of a commitment to make right away to those who just wanted him and not his daughter. He had no patience for either reaction and tended to cut ties with any such person before they could do it to him.
He would always be a father first, which meant that anyone who wanted to date him would have to accept Violet as well as himself. He wouldn’t settle for anything less.
--
Arthur fidgeted his way through the entire elevator ride up to the top floor where his apartment was. He was as eager as ever to get back to his daughter, but he was especially anxious today. He had let his work distract him from thinking too much about how Violet was doing with Eames. There was nothing to divert him from it know, however, and it was impossible for him not to worry.
He strode out of the elevator the instant the doors slid apart wide enough. It didn’t take him long to reach the apartment, twisting the doorknob so that he could open the door.
His brow furrowed once he was inside, however, as a scent wafted over to him. It was a familiar, sweet smell, although he wasn’t able to completely guess what it was. He nudged the door shut with his shoulder as he toed off his shoes next to the mass of much smaller ones to the right of the rug. Then he headed off towards where the aroma was coming from.
He had just begun to approach the kitchen when something solid collided with his legs. He swayed on his feet for a moment, bracing his hand against the wall to steady himself before reaching down to ruffle the hair of the little person wrapped around him. “It’s nice to see you too, Violet.”
“Dad, you have to see what we made!” Violet exclaimed. She grabbed hold of his hand so that she could lead him into the kitchen.
Arthur let himself be directed without any fuss. However, his eyebrows lifted up in surprise once they reached their destination.
Eames was wearing the apron that had been given to Arthur by his mother one Christmas, although he barely used it. He must have put it on while making the chocolate chip cookies that he was currently taking off the pan to put onto one of the larger plates. He cast the other man a grin after noticing his presence. “Welcome home, Mr. Moss. I hope you don’t mind that we made these.”
“Not at all,” Arthur said. “Our sweet supply needed to be replenished anyway.” His daughter had developed quite the sweet tooth as she grew older, gaining the ability to devour anything that fell into that category if he wasn’t careful to monitor her. He tended to blame the genetics that she received from her mother for that. “You don’t have to call me, Mr. Moss, though. Arthur will be just fine.” He had let Alice call him that since she was still a college student, but Eames was his own age, perhaps a little older, so the title just seemed strange coming from him.
“Only if you just call me Eames,” Eames replied.
“Is that your first name then?” Arthur asked.
“If you would like it to be,” Eames said wryly.
Violet spoke up before Arthur could, beaming up at her father. “Dad, he let me help make cookies. We have to keep him.”
Eames just tossed back his head with a laugh. “I’m glad I managed to pass the test,” he said.
Arthur felt something in him unwind at the way Violet giggled along with Eames. If she was able to be this relaxed with her babysitter instead of clinging onto his legs without saying a word then something must have gone well. He glanced down at his daughter with a small smile of his own. “Violet, why don’t you go have some cookies while I discuss things with, Eames?”
Violet nodded before heading over to the counter where the cookies were located. She was about to scurry up onto one of the stools that were there when Eames lifted her up, placing her down on it. “Don’t eat too many,” he said, “or you’ll spoil your dinner.” Then he headed over to Arthur. “Now, what is it that you wanted to discuss?”
“Well, first, I wanted to give you this.” Arthur reached into his pocket to pull out the check that he had filled out earlier. “I gave you the amount that I usually give my regular babysitter. I hope that’s alright.”
Eames plucked the check from his hand, slipping it into his own pocket. “I’m sure it will be fine. I really didn’t mind filling in for your regular. Violet has to be one of the easiest kids I’ve looked after. She fell asleep on the couch somewhere in the middle of the movie she choose so her sleep schedule should be back to normal by now.”
“That’s good,” Arthur said. He wasn’t surprised that Violet hadn’t caused any problems. She wasn’t the type to wreak havoc unless someone actually deserved it. He scratched at the back of his neck as he tried to form the words for what he wanted to say next. “Actually, my regular has the flu, so she probably won’t be able to come back for awhile. So, it would be really helpful if you could-”
“Cover for her until she’s better?” Eames cut in. “I would love to.” He fetched a pen from somewhere in the recess of his pocket then took a napkin to write something down on it. “Here’s my number just call me when you want me to come in tomorrow.”
Arthur took the napkin from it as the other man undid the apron, hanging it back up where it belonged. “So I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said.
“Of course, you will.” Eames waggled his fingers in a wave at Violet, who returned the gesture. “But until then, darling, I hope you have a good night with your little one.”
The man was already out the door by the time that Arthur was able to register just what he had been called.
“Does this mean we get to keep Eames?” Violet asked.
Arthur huffed out a laugh as he moved forward to join his daughter at the counter. “I guess so,” he replied.
Pairing: Arthur/Eames, Dom/Mal, Ariadne, OC
Rating: PG-13 (At least for now, I'll warn if it goes up.)
Part: 1/?
Word Count: 3,677
Warnings: None.
Summary: On a morning where everything that can go wrong does, Arthur finds himself in need of a babysitter. Enter Eames.
Arthur was awoken by a gentle prodding against his forehead. He rolled over on instinct in an effort to escape from it. He still wasn’t fully conscious yet, which meant that, with any luck, he might be able to drift back off for at least another hour.
Violet had come knocking on his door last night, a teary eyed mess from a nightmare. He had let her burrow into his arms, running his hands in circles across her back to soothe the tension out of her small frame. It had been enough to ease away her whimpers, but actual sleep hadn’t come until after she had been given a glass of warm milk with cinnamon and honey mixed in. And that had been somewhere around three in the morning.
His brow forehead downward as the pokes returned, harder this time. He lifted a hand in an attempt to brush it away. “Not quite yet, Vi,” he muttered.
“But, Dad, today is the big day,” came the response.
Arthur frowned as he tried to remember what she was referring to. He did his best to force the grogginess from his mind so that he could flip through his inner schedule. There had been a lull in projects as of late, which he had been grateful for given the fact that there was an enormous one coming up with…
His eyes snapped open, all traces of sleepiness gone, as he remembered what today was. The architecture firm at which he worked had managed to land Mamoru Saito, head of Proclus Global, as a highly lucrative client. The man wanted them to design a new company building for them and there was a meeting this morning to go over the initial blueprints. A meeting that, based on a quick glance at the clock, he was dangerously close to being late for.
He scrambled out of bed while his daughter wiggled her way out after him. He sent her off to her own room to get dressed for the day while he did the same. It calmed him down somewhat to go through the familiar motions of putting on a suit. He had selected one of the finest in his wardrobe so that, even if he felt frazzled, he would at least look professional.
It only took him a short time in the bathroom to run through the last touches, slicking his hair into its usual style and dabbing on a hint of cologne. Then he headed out into the main part of the apartment where Violet was had already gotten her breakfast together. He was in such a rush to get all of his work things together that he let her have a second bowl of the sugary slop she called cereal.
It was, of course, just as everything had begun to settle down again that fate decided to throw him another curve ball.
He was just starting to wonder where the babysitter was. Alice had been with them long enough to realize how Arthur liked punctuality and always called ahead if there was even the slightest chance she might be late. He let out a small sigh of relief as the phone rang, displaying a familiar number on the caller ID. He snatched the phone from its cradle, lifting it to his ear while he pressed the button to answer the call. “What is it this time, Alice? Is the traffic bad again?”
The words he got in response came out like a croak. “Mr. Moss, I’m really sorry, but-”
Arthur reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, cutting her off as he guessed what had happened. “You’re sick, aren’t you?”
“I really am sorry,” Alice said. “I would still try to come in but the doctor said that I have the flu and I don’t want to risk giving that to Violet.”
It wasn’t as if Arthur would have demanded for her to come when it sounded like she was dying over the phone, but the chance that Violet might catch it too was enough to affirm that decision. “It’s fine, Alice, I’m not upset,” he said. “You should be taking it easy right now, anyway. But is there anyone you could suggest as a backup?”
Alice wasn’t able to answer right away since one of her sniffs had turned into a bout of coughs. She was eventually able to wheeze out an answer, however. “There’s always Patrick?”
Arthur didn’t groan into the phone, but it was a close thing. He had only employed Patrick once, back when Alice had had to attend a family wedding. She had sworn that he was suitable, but Violet had responded to him in the reverse of how she did with her original babysitter. She was a quiet girl by nature, preferring solitary activities to more active ones, but if she liked someone then she would almost always invite them to share in whatever she was doing. It was when she would pursue her interests alone, only talking to the other person out of necessity, that it was a problem.
“I’ll think about it,” he said. Although he had a feeling that they both knew that he probably wouldn’t.
“Okay,” Alice snuffled. “I’m sorry for messing everything up, but I’ll try to find a way to make up for it. Maybe I could babysit sometime for free or-”
Arthur cut gently across her babbling. “Alice, it’s fine. I’m not going to blame you for getting sick. Just go back to sleep for now and we’ll talk about this once you’re better.”
Alice was already starting to sound drowsy as she replied. “Okay, Mr. Moss, thank you.” The other line went dead soon after.
Arthur hung up his own phone before dialing in a number he had memorized ages ago. He spoke the instant the call was answered, no even waiting for a greeting from the other end. “Mal, I’m having a crisis.”
The female half of his two best friends and bosses didn’t miss a beat as she replied to him in her soft, French accented voice. “Well, we imagined something must have happened once we arrived to find that you weren’t you weren’t already here. You do like to be first to such appointments, after all.”
Arthur grimaced as he ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to oversleep. It’s just that Violet had a nightmare last night that took her awhile to calm down from. And now the babysitter has canceled on me since she has the flu.” He knew that she would be able to understand his prattling since she had two children of her own.
And, sure enough, there came a sympathetic tuting noise. “Do you not have any backup?”
“Not anyone who would be suitable,” Arthur replied.
“Then can I suggest someone?” Mal asked. She knew him well enough to take his silence as an assent. “There’s a man that Dom met who looks after James and Philippa for us. He is a lovely man and excellent with children. Not to mention, he lives right in your area. Shall I call him for you?”
Arthur was a little wary of leaving his daughter with someone he hadn’t been able to do a proper inspection of, but it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice by this point. Besides, he trusted Mal’s judgment. “That would be great, thanks.”
“You’re welcome, my dear,” Mal said. “And I will make sure to tell him to hurry.”
--
Arthur practically dove at the door once he heard someone knock on it. He couldn’t help being impressed by how fast the person had managed to get there.
Any such positive thoughts disappeared, however, the moment he opened the door.
The man on the other side of the door was the exact opposite of what he had been expecting. He was too distracted by the garish yellow shirt, at first, since its color seemed to want to burn itself into his eyes to take in much else. Then he began to notice the way the fabric was stretched across so rather substantial muscles and…were those tattoos peaking out from underneath the short sleeves?
Fortunately, the man seemed to take no notice of how flabbergasted Arthur was by his appearance. His mouth-God, those lips looked like they belonged on a girl-spread into a wide smile as he held out his hand. “Hey there, I’m Eames. Mal said that you were expecting me.”
Arthur knew that he should say something or, at the very least, take the hand offered to him. The words on the tip of his tongue, however, were something to effect of, “You look like some sort of thug,” and he wasn’t about to let himself be that impolite, even if it was true. He felt his stomach twist somewhat in embarrassment as Eames’ smile faltered, but he still couldn’t think of anything proper to say.
Then a small hand darted up to grab onto the hand that Eames was still holding out.
Both men looked down to see Violet there, staring back at them with a polite smile. “Good morning, Mr. Eames. My dad isn’t trying to be rude, it’s just been a busy morning so he’s a little bit flustered.”
Arthur shook his head, unable to fight off a small smile of his own. He somehow always managed to forget how well his daughter was able to understand him. “I’m sorry, she’s right,” he said. “I didn’t mean to be impolite, but things have been a little crazy around here.”
Eames just chuckled good-naturedly in response. “No worries, I gathered as much from Mal. Although neither of you have to use the ‘Mr’; Eames will do just fine.” He squeezed the hand in his grasp then waved it around in the air, grinning as it made Violet giggle. “Now, is there anything I should know about this little one? Allergies or anything?”
“Well, for starters, her name is Violet,” Arthur said. “She doesn’t have any major food allergies just don’t let her have too much in the way of milk products. And she didn’t sleep so well last night so she might have to take a nap.” He shot an amused glance at Violet, tapping her nose as she wrinkled it up. “I know you’re a big girl now but that doesn’t mean you don’t need some rest.”
“Okay, Dad.” She lifted her free arm up into the air with a hopeful expression on her face. “Can I have a hug?”
Arthur felt something warm settle in his chest just like every time his daughter managed to be so sweet without meaning to. He dipped down to wrap his arms around her, squeezing her tightly. “You don’t have to ask for something like that, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he pulled away. “Now be good for Mr. Eames, alright?”
Violet pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes so that she could press a kiss to his cheek. “Everything will be fine, Dad. Now go have a great day at work and say hi to everyone for me.”
“Of course,” Arthur promised. “I love you.”
“Love you too!” Violet beamed back. Then she began to tug Eames into the apartment by the hand as her father slipped out it. The last thing that could be heard, as the door closed, was her asking what movie he wanted to watch.
It sounded like they were off to a good start at least. Arthur just hoped that it would stay that way while he was at work.
--
Despite the hectic start to the day, the rest of it ran smoothly. He was greeted with the news on his arrival that Saito was in fact running late, which gave him the time to prepare that he thought he had lost. Ariadne, bless her, had brought coffee for everyone as well. He had would admit to having some reservations after Dom brought her into the firm fresh out of college. She had been a favorite of Miles, however, who was Mal’s father along with being a brilliant architect, and he was starting to see just why that was. Besides, anyone who was able to remember just how he liked his coffee in the morning received his approval.
When Saito did arrive, he approved of each design plan that he was shown. There were only a few changes that he wished to make, none of which were that difficult. Besides, the man proved to be open to suggestions if any of his ideas would be too hard to pull off. And for Arthur, who had worked with high maintenance clients in the past, this was something to be grateful about.
The work wasn’t over after Saito left, however, since it was time to get a head start on the final drafts of the blueprints. Arthur was sketching in the details on one for the first floor when he sensed that he was being watched. He lifted his head up to see that it was Mal, who offered him a smile as his eyes landed on her. “What is it?”
“I just wanted to know what you thought of Mr. Eames,” Mal said.
“Oh, is that who you sent over?” Dom cast a grin over at his friend. “He doesn’t look like your average babysitter, does he?”
Arthur pressed his lips together into a firm line. “I guess that’s one way of putting it,” he said.
“Really, Arthur!” Mal exclaimed. “I thought you would know better than to judge a book by its cover.”
“You didn’t see the shirt he was wearing, Mal,” Arthur said. “Anything that color should be outlawed under risk of causing permanent blindness.”
Ariadne looked up from her own work with her bottom lip thrust out in a mock pout. “Aw, did it offend your tender fashion sensibilities?”
Arthur shot her a look, although he was pretty sure it was more amused then sharp. “Yours would have been offended too,” he told her.
Mal waved her hand around in a dismissive gesture. “That is enough about his fashion sense.” An almost wicked smile settled onto her lips. “What did you think of his looks? He is rather handsome, is he not?”
Arthur let out a groan at this, burying his face in his hands. “Mal, please tell me you aren’t trying to set me up with the babysitter.”
Mal, rather predictably, didn’t bother to answer the question. “He is actually an artist,” She said instead. “He only babysits to make a little cash while he’s between commissions.”
“Ooh, really?” Ariadne said. She nudged Arthur with her foot under the table. “You should ask to see his work sometime!”
Arthur held his hands up in the air while shaking his head. “That’s it,” he announced, “I am going back to work. You have all become too ridiculous to communicate with anymore.” He could already see the mischievous look that Mal was exchanging with Ariadne and even Dom was pressing a hand to his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh.
He could understand why Mal was trying to encourage him towards Eames, though, even if it was a little annoying. It had been a good amount of time since he had had anything beyond one night stands. He was bisexual, which meant it was a little easier for him to find someone who he would want to get to know better. However, he still had yet to meet someone who didn’t tense up at the mention of his daughter. It varied from the people who considered a child to be too much of a commitment to make right away to those who just wanted him and not his daughter. He had no patience for either reaction and tended to cut ties with any such person before they could do it to him.
He would always be a father first, which meant that anyone who wanted to date him would have to accept Violet as well as himself. He wouldn’t settle for anything less.
--
Arthur fidgeted his way through the entire elevator ride up to the top floor where his apartment was. He was as eager as ever to get back to his daughter, but he was especially anxious today. He had let his work distract him from thinking too much about how Violet was doing with Eames. There was nothing to divert him from it know, however, and it was impossible for him not to worry.
He strode out of the elevator the instant the doors slid apart wide enough. It didn’t take him long to reach the apartment, twisting the doorknob so that he could open the door.
His brow furrowed once he was inside, however, as a scent wafted over to him. It was a familiar, sweet smell, although he wasn’t able to completely guess what it was. He nudged the door shut with his shoulder as he toed off his shoes next to the mass of much smaller ones to the right of the rug. Then he headed off towards where the aroma was coming from.
He had just begun to approach the kitchen when something solid collided with his legs. He swayed on his feet for a moment, bracing his hand against the wall to steady himself before reaching down to ruffle the hair of the little person wrapped around him. “It’s nice to see you too, Violet.”
“Dad, you have to see what we made!” Violet exclaimed. She grabbed hold of his hand so that she could lead him into the kitchen.
Arthur let himself be directed without any fuss. However, his eyebrows lifted up in surprise once they reached their destination.
Eames was wearing the apron that had been given to Arthur by his mother one Christmas, although he barely used it. He must have put it on while making the chocolate chip cookies that he was currently taking off the pan to put onto one of the larger plates. He cast the other man a grin after noticing his presence. “Welcome home, Mr. Moss. I hope you don’t mind that we made these.”
“Not at all,” Arthur said. “Our sweet supply needed to be replenished anyway.” His daughter had developed quite the sweet tooth as she grew older, gaining the ability to devour anything that fell into that category if he wasn’t careful to monitor her. He tended to blame the genetics that she received from her mother for that. “You don’t have to call me, Mr. Moss, though. Arthur will be just fine.” He had let Alice call him that since she was still a college student, but Eames was his own age, perhaps a little older, so the title just seemed strange coming from him.
“Only if you just call me Eames,” Eames replied.
“Is that your first name then?” Arthur asked.
“If you would like it to be,” Eames said wryly.
Violet spoke up before Arthur could, beaming up at her father. “Dad, he let me help make cookies. We have to keep him.”
Eames just tossed back his head with a laugh. “I’m glad I managed to pass the test,” he said.
Arthur felt something in him unwind at the way Violet giggled along with Eames. If she was able to be this relaxed with her babysitter instead of clinging onto his legs without saying a word then something must have gone well. He glanced down at his daughter with a small smile of his own. “Violet, why don’t you go have some cookies while I discuss things with, Eames?”
Violet nodded before heading over to the counter where the cookies were located. She was about to scurry up onto one of the stools that were there when Eames lifted her up, placing her down on it. “Don’t eat too many,” he said, “or you’ll spoil your dinner.” Then he headed over to Arthur. “Now, what is it that you wanted to discuss?”
“Well, first, I wanted to give you this.” Arthur reached into his pocket to pull out the check that he had filled out earlier. “I gave you the amount that I usually give my regular babysitter. I hope that’s alright.”
Eames plucked the check from his hand, slipping it into his own pocket. “I’m sure it will be fine. I really didn’t mind filling in for your regular. Violet has to be one of the easiest kids I’ve looked after. She fell asleep on the couch somewhere in the middle of the movie she choose so her sleep schedule should be back to normal by now.”
“That’s good,” Arthur said. He wasn’t surprised that Violet hadn’t caused any problems. She wasn’t the type to wreak havoc unless someone actually deserved it. He scratched at the back of his neck as he tried to form the words for what he wanted to say next. “Actually, my regular has the flu, so she probably won’t be able to come back for awhile. So, it would be really helpful if you could-”
“Cover for her until she’s better?” Eames cut in. “I would love to.” He fetched a pen from somewhere in the recess of his pocket then took a napkin to write something down on it. “Here’s my number just call me when you want me to come in tomorrow.”
Arthur took the napkin from it as the other man undid the apron, hanging it back up where it belonged. “So I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he said.
“Of course, you will.” Eames waggled his fingers in a wave at Violet, who returned the gesture. “But until then, darling, I hope you have a good night with your little one.”
The man was already out the door by the time that Arthur was able to register just what he had been called.
“Does this mean we get to keep Eames?” Violet asked.
Arthur huffed out a laugh as he moved forward to join his daughter at the counter. “I guess so,” he replied.