[identity profile] kiyala.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] shannys_corner
Title: Look Away
Author: [livejournal.com profile] kiyala
Word Count: 4,572
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Arthur/Eames
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Inception is the wonderful brainchild of Christopher Nolan.
Notes: Alternate Universe/family fic. Written for this prompt on [livejournal.com profile] inception_kink:
eames's sister brings home arthur for the holidays, with plans to set eames and arthur up. queue eames being oblivious and thinking arthur and his sister are already going out. angst ensues when eames falls in love with arthur. happy ending please!

Also, taking this opportunity to mention that I'm offering drabbles and ficlets for [livejournal.com profile] qldfloodauction's Lightning Round (and have an auction post here)





The entire place is alive and charged with excitement. It’s summer proper, and the warmer months have always done extraordinary things to Eames’ already-cheerful mood. It doesn’t hurt that he’s finally off the plane and making his way through the arrivals gate of the airport, to the long line of people waiting for taxis. True, he can arrange to be picked up properly, but there’s always been something wildly independent about him; an enjoyment that comes from never being entirely predictable. Even if that comes in the form of his family being unable to pinpoint the exact time he’ll arrive home for the summer—well, he’s always been the type to enjoy the simple pleasures.

He spends his time in the line thinking of home, of how close he is to being there again, and it surprises him, how much more he misses it now, when he’s almost there than he does from an entirely different continent. His family home is in California, but he’s spent the past several years studying in the England, at Cambridge. He’s just about to start the second year of his Masters in forensic psychology, and though he knows that he loves England and does plan to stay there and follow up on the job positions he’s already found, this will always be his home.

When it’s finally his turn to bundle his luggage into a taxi, he beams at the driver, giving him the address and making cheerful conversation throughout the entire drive. Were he anybody else, he knows that the taxi driver would be fed up with him by the end of the trip, but if Eames knows one thing, it is how to charm, and when they pull up in front of his family estate, he and the taxi driver are parting like old friends.

There’s a spring in his step as he walks up the path leading to the front door to the family home; a large place, complete with actual wings. Old money doesn’t even begin to cover it; though Eames can never quite bring himself to care about the actual details.

He lets himself in with the key that is still a permanent fixture on his key ring and is promptly tackled by a black Labrador, all large paws and excited barking. He laughs, wrapping his arms around the dog, ignoring his bags for a moment to pull his childhood best friend into a hug.

“Night! It’s so good to see you!” he greets, smiling at the rhythmic thump of an excitedly wagging tail against his arm. Night’s full name is Nightmare; Eames had named him back when he’d been a brooding teenager and even to this day, the dog has been the happiest, friendliest creature Eames has known, so he’s made a point to shorten the name.

“Daniel! Is that you?” his mother calls, and Eames grins. He’d chosen, on a whim several years ago, to go by his mother’s maiden name and he’s gotten so used to it now that it’s become the name he associates himself with, more than his first name. These days, it’s only his family that actually calls him Daniel.

“Mother!” he greets, walking into the lounge room and pulling her into a warm hug. He’s always been close to his family and the thought of being together with all of them again has made him look forward to this trip for months, now.

“Oh, Daniel, I’m so glad you’re home! I was beginning to miss my favourite son!”

“Your only son,” Eames reminds her, grinning brightly as he kisses her cheek. “So, where’s everyone else?”

“You’re first, for once. Come on, we’ll get your bags to your room and you can have a shower to relax from your flight. Are you hungry? I’ll make—”

“Thank you, Mother,” Eames chuckles, catching her by the shoulders and holding her still. “You sit down, I’ll take care of my things, and we’ll see when everyone else arrives.”

By the time Eames has showered and changed, he can hear his mother excitedly greeting his older sister at the door. He quickly descends the stairs to join the excitement, with Night following close behind.

“Mallorie’s here!” his mother announces happily as Eames hugs his sister and greets Dom, her fiancé, with a friendly slap on the back.

“Look at you Daniel,” she says, and her voice is thick with the French accent she’s picked up from living in Paris for the past decade. Eames can’t comment, because England has done the same to him in a much shorter amount of time.

He helps carry their bags upstairs to their room and talks easily with both of them. He sees Mal—and by extension, Dom—most often out of all his family members because they live much nearer to each other in comparison to the rest of the family, so he’s close to them both.

“Oh, look at Night—he still follows you around everywhere the way he used to,” Mal coos, scratching the dog behind the ears and laughing at the content look that passes over his features as he leans into the touch. “Are we still waiting for Ariadne?”

“Looks like she’s last, this time,” Eames says with a small smile. “Funny, considering she’s the one who still lives in the same country. Probably thought she wouldn’t have to start so early.”

“Not everyone has your wonderful punctuality, Dan,” Mal says fondly, “Which is to say, hardly any.”

“I was first this time,” he says defensively, and it’s Dom who laughs.

“Yeah, but I remember last year, you were half a week late.”

“Oh, shut up,” Eames grumbles, but he’s still grinning. “Honestly, I’ve missed you two, even if it’s only been a month or so. And Ariadne.”

At that moment, the doorbell rings and Mal jumps in excitement.

“That must be her!”

She races down the stairs with Eames—and Night—close behind, and answers the door.

“Ari!” her voice is so loud with excitement that Eames almost winces. “Oh! And this must be the surprise you were talking about—he looks charming! Hello there, I’m Mallorie.”

Eames frowns in confusion. Surprise? He? Eames had, back when they were younger and lived here together, built something of a reputation for putting a healthy dose of fear into every body that had so much as looked as his little sister. He’s even scared off a belligerent ex with some very carefully chosen words over the phone when he’d been doing his undergrad in Cambridge.

And now she was bringing a boy home with her and hadn’t even told him…?

Any actual unhappiness fades the moment Ariadne takes another step into the house, sees Eames, and throws her arms around him. He hugs back tightly; even if they don’t see each other all that often and there are a good six years between them, they’re close—they’re all close—and there’s nowhere he’s been happier but here, surrounded by his family; both siblings and his overjoyed mother, who has already begun tearing up at the sight of all her children together again.

Then, Ariadne takes a step back, beams at him, and says, “Dan. Have you met Arthur?”

She reaches behind her, grabbing hold of Arthur’s wrist and pulling him into sight.

And this is how Eames meets the bane of his very existence.


*       *       *



Arthur is incredibly charming, Eames decides with a growing sense of dread. Every little thing about him—the fact that he’s wearing a button-down shirt even in this weather with the sleeves rolled up, that his hair is gelled neatly into place, the deep, confident voice he speaks in—spells certain doom to Eames. And that is without even considering the way Eames forgets to breathe for a moment when he licks the foam off his lips from his coffee.

They’re an hour in, and Eames stands, clearing his throat and making an excuse to leave. He tells the others that he feels like taking Night for a walk, to see how the area’s changed since his last visit.

Night immediately perks up at the mention of a walk and for a moment, Eames can almost convince himself that he’s actually going out for the sole purpose of taking a walk and not because he needs to get as much physical distance between himself and Arthur as possible before he ends up doing something he might regret later.

He’s already turned one of Ariadne’s ex-boyfriends gay (however inadvertently—Robert was a nice boy, but he was no Arthur—oh god, he did not just think that) he doubts that she’ll be as nice about it happening a second time before she actually makes good on her threat to never introduce him to any of her boyfriends again.

Night confidently leads the way through the undergrowth just outside the family estate, walking down the dirt path to the nearby creek. It has always been Eames’ favourite place to sit, and he’s glad it’s remained unchanged. Night finds a stick, asking him for a game of fetch, and Eames gladly takes it, throwing it around until the dog steps down to the running water to lap from it, tired from running around.

Eames sits with a sigh, and his mind fills with Arthur once again. This is ridiculous, he tells himself fiercely. It’s one thing to want someone on sight—he’s dealt with that before, he knows what to do with lust. But this—for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t be spending so much time fixating on the sound of Arthur’s laugh, his dimples, and the way the corners of his eyes crinkle. This is just stupid.

Night cuddles up against Eames for a while, licking his hand before deciding to go wandering about again. Eames dozes, enjoying the heat and quiet, blinking awake when he hears Night’s excited barking, announcing that he’s found something interesting. He looks up when the hears the dog running back towards him, followed by footsteps crunching against the twigs and pebbles on the ground.

When they both come into sight, Eames realises with equal thrill and dread that it’s Arthur.

“Hey,” Arthur greets quietly. “It’s Daniel, right?”

“If you want,” Eames replies with a nod. “Most people call me Eames.”

“Eames,” Arthur repeats. “Can I sit?”

“’Course you can.” Eames pats the ground beside him and makes his best effort to look casual as he shakes the dirt off his hand. “What are you doing out here?”

“Ariadne sent me,” Arthur explains as he sits, leaning back against the tree trunk. Their shoulders brush against each other and Eames looks in the direction of the creek, suddenly fascinated by the thorn bush in front of him, and lets out a heavy sigh.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, and continues speaking when it’s clear there is no explanation forthcoming. “She told me you liked sitting by the creek, so I went looking for it, and your dog found me. I was wondering if you wanted company. Or something.”

Or something, Eames thinks. He’d definitely like something. He clears his throat and says, “So how did you meet my sister?”

Arthur explains that they’re in the same architecture course—Ariadne has just finished her first year and Arthur has just finished his last. This somehow leads to a conversation about post-war British art, and then forensic psychology, and an hour and a half later, Eames is telling Arthur the long story behind how he’d convinced his parents to adopt a puppy into the family for his sixteenth birthday, and his teenaged self’s rationale for naming it Nightmare.

Arthur is laughing, head thrown back and eyes shut, and Eames decides he is beautiful.

“We ought to get back,” he says, clearing his throat, remembering that Arthur is Ariadne’s, not his, and turning away. “Or else Mother will start to worry you’ve lost your way or something.”

Night looks up at Eames questioningly, having taken a nap as they’d talked, and then bounds up and leads the way at the word, “home.”

If Arthur notices the sudden change in Eames’ mood, he doesn’t comment, but the walk back is silent, and it feels odd to Eames, when they’d been talking so easily before.

“Ariadne,” he calls, once they return to the house, catching his sister’s eye. “A word, please.”

He leads the way to a room a fair distance away, and Ariadne raises her eyebrows as he shuts the door behind them.

“Uh, if this is about Arthur—”

“Yes it is about Arthur,” Eames says, quiet and tense, his eyebrows drawn together. “I’m going to warn you now, Ari, that our tastes are far too similar, because if you leave me alone with your boyfriend again, I can’t promise I won’t do something incredibly stupid.”

Ariadne opens her mouth, shuts it, and then frowns in confusion. “But Arthur isn’t—”

“It really doesn’t matter if he’s straight as an arrow, Ariadne. I’m not saying I’ll steal him away, because he’s a wonderful man and such an improvement on that Nash, but I swear—”

“You’re not listening to me—”

“I think I should just stay away from him,” Eames decides, and then nods. “Yes. I’ll do that. Thanks, Ariadne. I’m glad we talked.”

His sister simply sighs in frustration as he walks away.

*       *       *


Mal announces the next day that they are going to the beach. Eames—having barely slept with the thought of Arthur in the room just beside his—imagines Arthur shirtless and promptly spills his tea all over the morning newspaper. Of course Arthur walks in just as Eames is being fussed over by his mother and being called her darling baby boy.

The corners of his mouth twitch upwards, and Eames sincerely wants to die.

“’Morning Arthur,” Ariadne greets, stealing a piece of toast out of his hand and biting into it. “Beach today.”

“Oh.” Eames is focusing all of his attention on a tea-soaked article about healthcare reforms, but thinks that perhaps Arthur glances in his direction. “Okay.”

The weather is warm and they pile into two cars for the drive to the beach. Ariadne is clearly ignoring everything Eames has said to her, because she decides that she and Arthur are going in Eames’ car, and then claims the backseat all for herself.

“You mustn’t allow her to push you around like that,” Eames says as Arthur climbs into the front passenger seat. “Once she realises that you’ll listen to her, she’ll take full advantage of it.”

Musn’t,” Ariadne repeats from the back seat. “Seriously, Dan. You spend four years in Cambridge and you sound like you’ve lived there your whole life.”

“Cambridge,” Arthur says, eyebrows raised. “Huh. I’m going there for the next two years to do post-grad. Ariadne, you could’ve told me your brother went there.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” Ariadne replies cheerfully, and Eames gives her a death glare through the rear view mirror.

Arthur spends the rest of the drive extracting all the information he can from Eames about Cambridge, and it’s far too easy for Eames to tease him when he’s taking everything so seriously.

“Don’t you worry,” he says reassuringly when they pull into a parking bay at the beach. “If you’re absolutely lost once you get there, I’ll help you.”

“Thanks Eames,” Arthur says, flashing him a grin.

“Yeah, thanks Dan,” Ariadne pipes up. “Good to know I can trust you to take good care of him.’”

Eames wants to tell her that no, she can’t trust him with Arthur, not at all, because not even he trusts himself with Arthur. Instead, he simply nods, turning the engine off and getting out of the car.

Arthur follows him, clearly having decided that he likes talking to Eames, and Eames is yet to decide is a good or bad thing, but Ariadne has shown no indication of wanting to stop them from talking so much. Clearly, Eames thinks, that must count for something.

Mal has packed several picnic baskets, and their mother has already spread out a blanket on the sand. Dom has propped up umbrellas in the sand around it, and Eames thinks approvingly that it looks rather like a multicoloured fort.

He dumps his things at one edge of the blanket, surveying the area before nodding in approval. Not too many people, but just enough for the place to be lively.

Not that he particularly cares about anyone else with Arthur standing right next to him, he thinks, and hates the fact that it’s true.

“How about you all go for a swim and build up a nice appetite before lunch?” Eames’ mother suggests with a smile, and they all nod, eager to take refuge from the heat.

Mal and Ariadne quickly strip down to their bikinis, running into the waves with Dom following close behind. Arthur is unbuttoning his shirt and Eames only realises that he’s staring—open mouthed—when their eyes meet. Eames‘ jaw makes a loud sound as he shuts his mouth, and he makes an attempt to look away, but his gaze only goes down, to the well-defined muscles on Arthur’s stomach. He just barely manages to hold back his choked sound of frustration, and forces his eyes back up to meet Arthur’s.

To his surprise, Arthur is grinning. “Coming, Eames?”

Eames nods, pulling his own shirt off. He hears Arthur’s breath hitch, and looks at him questioningly.

Arthur is staring. His gaze travels across Eames’ body and it takes him a moment to realise Arthur’s attention has been captured by his tattoos.

“Coming, Arthur?” he mimics, smirking, and Arthur simply nods, following him into the water.

Whatever little gel Arthur had managed to get away with that morning is washed away with all of the water. His hair falls all over the place and Eames thinks it’s a delightful sight; curling down into his eyes even when Arthur tries to push it back. Eames laughs and moves without thinking, reaching to comb Arthur’s hair out of the way for him, but he’s interrupted by Ariadne throwing a beach ball in their direction.

Eames jerks away immediately, his heart sinking at the reminder of why he shouldn’t even be trying to win Arthur’s affections.

Arthur lifts the beach ball and hurls it back at Ariadne, swimming over to join her, and Eames stays where he is, pretending he isn’t sulking.

Well, he decides, if he can’t have who he want, then he might as well find a nice distraction.

There’s a surfer who is paddling his board back to shore, and Eames strikes up a conversation with him, all smiles and questions about what he does. It’s easy to charm him: Eames is very comfortably aware of the effect he can have on women and men alike, and if he plays up the British accent he’s picked up and acts more interested than he actually is… well, at least it works.

They talk while the others are in the water, and only part when Eames notices his mother calling everybody back for lunch. He excuses himself, and the surfer smiles, saying he needs to leave anyway. They part ways, but not before Eames is given a slip of paper, soft and warm fingers lingering on his own before he pulls his hand away and walks back to his family.

“What did you get up to?” his mother asks with a fond look and knowing smile. “You’re just as much of a shameless flirt as your father is, you know that?”

“I learned from the best,” Eames replies with a wink.

“Daniel, who were you sitting with?” Mal asks as she and Dom join them, wringing the water out of her hair.

“Uh… William, apparently,” Eames says, unfolding the paper in his hand and glancing at it.

He hears Ariadne approach and turns immediately, knowing Arthur will be there with her. Their eyes meet for a moment, and Eames is taken aback by the intense, angry look in his dark eyes.

“Are you going to call him, then?” Ariadne asks, frowning a little.

Eames is about to reply that no, of course he won’t, when he notices Arthur staring at the paper in his hand with such obvious dislike that he can’t help but say, “You know, I might, actually.”

Eames would like to say that this is the moment that changes everything, but it doesn’t work that way. Instead, Arthur’s expression closes up—goes immediately and completely blank—and Ariadne makes an excuse for them to walk away, saying they’re getting something from the car, before she throws an exasperated look in her brother’s direction and leads Arthur away by the elbow.

Eames feels a surge of bitterness rush through him; it may make sense for Ariadne to take issue with him flirting at a family outing, but Arthur has no right. Unless, of course, Arthur is taking issue with the fact that it had been a man, but that doesn’t make sense because of the way Arthur had looked at him before they’d gotten in the water.

Nothing makes sense,” Eames mutters to himself under his breath and turns away, pushing it out of his mind and refusing to let it bother him.

He doesn’t look at Arthur once they return from the car, and makes no effort to engage him in conversation. It’s a difficult thing to ignore him in a group of only six, but Eames is determined and Arthur doesn’t seem the least bit inclined to change this fact.

After lunch, Eames takes out the book he’s brought with him and sprawls in the sun to read. He can see Arthur and Ariadne in his periphery, building impressive sandcastles, and he tries not to think of how cute they look together; tries not to think of Arthur at all for the rest of the day.

It’s fucking impossible.

*       *       *



There is still an air of tension between them when they return home, despite Mal’s best efforts to defuse it. Eames is in a dark mood and he hates it; hates wasting his time with family feeling like this, and hates that he’s feeling it at all because of Ariadne’s damn boyfriend, of all people. He broods over his tea before getting up, whistling for Night to follow him, and going for another walk.

He walks back to the creek without quite realising where he’s going, and sits down with a heavy sigh. Night paws at him, asking for pats and sensing Eames’ unhappiness, and they sit beside each other for a long time, their surroundings quiet except for the bubbling creek. It helps to calm Eames down, and his head jerks up when he hears someone approaching, already knowing who it will be before they come into sight.

“Arthur,” he greets, his voice low and anything but inviting. “Why are you here?”

“For you,” Arthur replies evenly. “I came here, because I need to talk to you. I have no idea what’s going on in that head of yours, Eames, but from what I’d heard about you, you’re meant to be smart. I thought you would have figured out how I felt by now.”

“Damn you,” Eames says quietly, and then again, louder. “Damn you, Arthur. How long do you plan on stringing me along like this?”

For the briefest moment, Arthur’s expression is that of open confusion, before it hardens into a look of pure fury. “I’m the one doing the leading on here? You’re the one who suddenly decided you’d rather be talking to complete strangers on the beach.”

“I was of the impression I could speak to whoever I like. So sorry for being mistaken.” Eames is getting to his feet, tensing for a fight, before his mind even has the chance to reel him back in. "You don’t understand, Arthur, how hard I’ve been trying not to fuck this all up. I came here to enjoy my time with my family, not struggle to keep my hands to myself every single time you’re in sight.”

“Yeah?” Arthur’s voice is calm as ever, but Eames doesn’t miss the colour creeping into his face. “Well then, maybe you should stop trying.”

Eames likes to think he has plenty of self-restraint, but there’s very little he can do when Arthur pulls him close except lean into it, eyes slipping shut as he feels those long, beautiful fingers in his hair. His hands settle lightly on Arthur’s sides as their lips meet, and the kiss lasts for a short moment before Eames’ grip tightens and he pulls away.

“We can’t do this, Arthur. Not when you’re with Ariadne. I won’t do that to her.”

“With Ariadne?” Arthur repeats, his eyes widening, and then to Eames’ surprise, he laughs. “Is that what you thought?”

Eames frowns a little. “You’re telling me you aren’t?”

No,” Arthur is still laughing. He amends, “I mean—she’s an amazing person and everything, but she’s not my type. For starters, she’s… a girl.”

“But she brought you here—”

“She said something about introducing me to her brother—you.”

Eames raises his eyebrows at this. “When we get back to the house, I’m going to have to sit her down and have a nice chat with her about telling me important facts like this first.”

Arthur gives him an amused look. “I thought you already knew. All the time I spent talking to you. Looking at you…”

“Mm,” Eames smirks, “You liked the tattoos didn’t you?”

The tips of Arthur’s ears turn pink, even as he reaches across to ghost his fingers over the black ink curling from beneath Eames’ sleeve. “Yeah.”

“I really ought to thank Ariadne,” Eames murmurs against Arthur’s lips, and feels him smile into their kiss.

Arthur’s arms wrap around his shoulders, one hand resting on the nape of his neck, and Eames pulls him as close as possible, until Night starts barking jealously, jumping on them for attention too.

“You’re going to have to share him now,” Arthur says in a completely serious tone to the dog, patting him, and Eames chuckles, pulling him closer again by the hand.

“We should head back to the house.”

Arthur hums in agreement. “Ariadne’s going to be so pleased when she sees that we’ve…”

“Worked things out?” Eames suggests with a smile, pressing a kiss to Arthur’s forehead.

“Yeah.” Arthur grins. “Mal too.”

“Mal too?” Eames repeats, clutching his chest dramatically. “My sisters! Ganging up on me! To set me up with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen! My life, it is so difficult.”

“Flattery won’t get you into my pants, Eames,” Arthur says. “Not that it’s a good idea to be getting into anyone’s pants when we’re at a family gathering anyway.”

Eames chuckles. “Oh Arthur, the house is so big, we may as well make use of it.”

“You’re terrible.”

“You need to relax, Arthur. I’ll make sure you’re nice and loosened up—”

“Oh Jesus Christ, just stop talking,” Arthur says, laughing and sounding horrified at the same time. “You’re even worse than terrible.”

Eames gives him an unabashed grin. “Didn’t Ariadne warn you about that?”

“She did, and I’ll never accuse her of grossly over-exaggerating ever again.” Arthur smiles and leans in to press a kiss to Eames’ lips. “And I might just need my head checked, because I think I like it.”

Eames holds him where he is, deepening the kiss and slowly pulling away to murmur, “You won’t hear me complaining.”

“Yeah,” Arthur grins, his lips still brushing against Eames’. “Didn’t think so.”

x


(deleted comment)

Date: 2011-01-14 12:01 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] clair3.livejournal.com
lovely!
(deleted comment)
(deleted comment)

Date: 2011-01-14 06:08 pm (UTC)
osaraba: (Default)
From: [personal profile] osaraba
Heeeeee! OMG THEY ARE SO CUUUUUUTE! <3

Date: 2011-01-14 06:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] burntcopper.livejournal.com
hee. Boys.

Date: 2011-01-14 06:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] haltlos.livejournal.com
I try to hold my stupid grin in check. Failed.
So very cut and cool.

Date: 2011-01-14 09:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_profiterole_/
That was so hot! ^__^

Date: 2011-01-15 01:34 am (UTC)
ext_267113: (Default)
From: [identity profile] juanitatequila.livejournal.com
Oh that was adorable!!
(deleted comment)

Date: 2011-01-15 04:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] laury-kos.livejournal.com
this is way too cute!
i loved Eames here~~

Date: 2011-01-15 12:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] shizuke.livejournal.com
gah. LOVE. love this I do.

Date: 2011-01-15 02:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] animeartistjo.livejournal.com
The best kind of comedy of errors!

Date: 2011-01-15 09:22 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] gollumgollum.livejournal.com
I love that Eames is the one who doesn't get it and gets himself all tripped up in thinking he's got it figured out, and that Arthur is the pursuer. Nicely done.

Date: 2011-03-27 06:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rainbowsbanging.livejournal.com
*TWIRLS AROUND AND THROWS CONFETTI EVERYWHERE!*

Everything. Everything about this fic is just fantastic. How I love thee, let me count the ways!

1. NIGHT: Oh my god that dog sounds like the most adorable thing in the whole wide world. I want him. I want to keep him and snuggle him and call him MY Nightmare.

2. MOTHER: She's so freaking cute! I love her. I love, love, love her mothering, and how her children just love her. The "darling boy" part, when Eames spills his tea? LOVE!

3. MAL & DOM: I love the whole idea that they're American, with Mal and Eames going away to Europe for their studies and things, and how that contributes to their personalities and accents in canon. It's very interesting, and a take I've never seen before. So I am all over it. Mal's just absolutely awesome, at everything. I love her in anything, and here she is just the cutest sweetheart ever! And then there's Dom, who is awesome.

4. ARIADNE: Why that little, match-making cutie pie! How adorable is that? Bringing a friend over and setting him up with Eames, and warning and oh my gosh. So cute! And I love how her and Mal are partners in crime with it. I just love it.

5. ARTHUR: I love how in this story, he's light, and still canon. You know what I mean? I think one of the things in fanon that I find is that everyone focuses on Arthur's stoicism, and seriousness so much, that he's robotic in any situation. I mean, just because we saw him in canon as the serious, badass Point Man, it does not mean he won't act differently in situations like these, for example. So I love it. He was still Arthur, but not. Realistic and not to mention adorable!

6. EAMES: MY FAVOURITE PART OF THIS WHOLE THING. His love for his family is just, oh my gosh. The darling boy, the just, so cute! His protectiveness over Ariadne, and sheer honesty about his feelings, and going as far as telling Ari! I mean, that's familial devotion, with all that honesty and trust and just, oh my gosh. I just love every bit of it. He's a bit daft, but he was doing it for his sister and I thought that was just...oh Eames! Let me cuddle you and give you some tea!

OVERALL, this fic is just fantastic. So much love for it! Just, so much love! :D <3

Date: 2011-03-31 05:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ayurubie.livejournal.com
cute <3

Date: 2011-04-11 04:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] atira7.livejournal.com
Oh Eames. *smacks him on the head* DUH.

Lovely ♥

Date: 2012-01-10 08:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] emmajane14.livejournal.com
SOOOOO PERFECT

Date: 2012-12-04 03:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] anne-jumps.livejournal.com
Ahhh I'm late to the party but I love romantic misunderstanding comedy of errors type things! <3<3<3 Enjoyed this :)

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