Okay guys, this is it! This was the winning choice on my poll! Thanks to everyone who voted, and everyone who has reviewd my other stories. Huzzah!

A quick glance. A longing stare. A slight smirk. A faint giggle.

Eames sighed with exasperation as he continued to watch his two colleagues send each other not-so-subtle smiles. Curse Cobb for placing his desk smack dab in the middle of them; his neck was starting to cramp from the constant turning he put it through while he studied them like a tennis match.

Eames wasn't smart like the rest of his teammates- his attention span was far too short and the work required far too much time and thought for his liking. Once, when Yusuf had been out sick, Eames had taken over for him. The forger's attempt to create a stronger sedative had burned off both his eyebrows and caused a mini explosion inside the warehouse. That day Cobb had announced that Eames was to do his job, and only his job, from now on.

But even though Eames wasn't academically competent, he knew a thing or to about the affairs of the heart. His countless women and sexual exploits made him the most successful lover on the inception team…unless he counted Cobb- the man did have two children with a beautiful woman.

But then again, said woman framed him for murder and haunts him in his dreams.

So yes, he was the most successful lover. In fact, he was often called the "Dr. of Love" (among other foul titles that others, namely a certain point man, called him).

And Dr. Eames' diagnosis? Arthur and Ariadne were love sick.

Not that it was hard to see. The two extractors were practically attached at the hip once the Fischer job ended. It was almost impossible to talk to one of them without the other close by, either pretending not to listen in on their conversation or 'working' on their new case.

Eames remembered how Arthur had nearly bitten his hand off when he'd brushed Ariadne's long brown hair out of her face. The forger was merely trying to help the poor girl, whose hands were too preoccupied with her dream-world model to push the stray strands behind her ear. The minute he'd return to his desk, Eames was confronted by the point man and 'kindly' told to back off. The Brit had cheekily asked him if Ariadne was his girlfriend, to which Arthur had answered with a disgruntled no. Eames had smiled, told him it was fair game, and walked away, knowing that his up-tight colleague was fuming.

Ariadne was no different, either. The pint-sized Parisian had exploded at him when he'd called Arthur an uppity fag last week. It came as a shock to everyone when she proved to have the mouth of a sailor. Eames had been afraid to look her in the eye for the rest of the day.

But Eames had kept those two pieces of crucial information in his head, knowing that someday he would need them.

And that day was today.

Read and Review! And look out for Chapter Two!...hehe. That rhymed. :)