Months after finishing the Fischer job, Arthur found himself walking down a quiet London street. The chill of that particular evening sneaked into his mind and left him feeling a bit nostalgic. Before he knew it, he'd started wondering how things were with the other guys from the team. Saito would most definitely still be rich and kicking. Cobb would be enjoying playing daddy again. Ariadne would also still be doing more than fine with her study. Yusuf would be… Arthur had a sneaky feeling that Yusuf might be the one who was enjoying life the most right now. And Eames… well, the lad always had his own wacky way to enjoy himself.

After a few minutes of walking, Arthur decided to enter a pub in the corner of the street. It was apparently also a quiet night in that place. There were only several groups of two and three talking and drinking their way out of their own daily misery. Arthur went straight to the bar and filled one of the empty seats.

"Scotch on the rocks, please," he asked the bartender.

As the bartender brought him his drink, the door creaked and another customer came in. It didn't interest Arthur at all, until this new guest of the pub opened his mouth. "Can I get the usual?" the low, heavy, but familiar voice to Arthur said. Arthur turned to where that voice came from and found himself pleasantly shocked. "Eames?" he called.

"Well, fancy meeting you here, Arthur," replied Eames, also pleasantly shocked to see a familiar face there, "Never thought a London pub could handle your somewhat high-maintenance quality, but I guess sometimes I could be wrong, too."

Arthur scoffed, "Me? High-maintenance?"

"Well, I was going to say 'extremely demanding', but then again, who am I to judge really?"

The bartender brought Eames his order. Immediately he raised his glass and offered Arthur to toast. "Come on, you know I was joking, right darling? I mean, what are the chances for us to meet here? Might as well enjoy the night, what do you say?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and raised his own glass. "To meeting old friends in a London pub," uttered Eames.

"To meeting obnoxiously aggravating old friend with a lame ass sense of humor in a London pub," replied Arthur with a teasing smile. They made the toast and drank up.

"Who's judging who now, eh?" said him as he signaled the bartender to bring them one more round of drink.

"Funny how I just wondered how everybody's doing these past few months and now I'm here drinking with one of them," said Arthur suddenly.

Eames smiled to himself, "Arthur and his sensitivity. You know you don't show it too often."

"What?" Arthur was perplexed.

Eames stared into his old friend's eyes for a while. He could see the wall Arthur very often built up around himself. "It's the wall. It's nice to have it every once in a while. But sometimes you need to let it crumble down," said Eames.

"What are you even talking about?"

There was a long pause between them. Somehow the voices of other people in that pub talking that have been accompanying them the entire time were slowly gone. Eames stared down at his half-empty glass.

"You know what's missing here?" he suddenly spoke up, "A little bit of music." He then drank up the last bit of his drink before walking straight to the old piano in the corner.

Eames set himself behind the piano, raised his hands to the keys, and started playing. Suddenly the bar wasn't so quiet anymore.

"I didn't know you play the piano," said Arthur as his eyes followed Eames' every move.

Eames turned to Arthur and gave him a little grin, "There are a lot of things you've yet to know about me."

And right then and there, Eames started singing, "I think I love every single crack on your face / I think I love even our most casual embrace / You don't have to try, 'cause I think I've made up my mind / Darling, I think I love you today…"

Arthur closely watched the way Eames' lips moved to the lyrics of the song. This charming bastard, he thought to himself. A little smile was curling up on his face.

"When I think what we could do / If I could only say to you, yeah / All of these things, well do I dare and would you care?"

Eames continued playing. He stared down at the keys as if he was really into what he was playing. He really was, but he didn't stare down for that. He could feel the wall that he spoke about just a moment ago to Arthur was starting to crumble down. You just can't resist me, can you, darling?


The song used in this fic is "I Think, I Love" by Jamie Cullum.