A/N: This is my first Inception fic. I have a couple ideas for longer ones that are bouncing around inside my skull (one that Gabrielle Day has said she will help me with), but I always like to get my feet wet, as they say, with a short, introspective story to get to know the characters before diving full-long into a multi-chapter. I'm a stickler for keeping characters in character, so let me know if I haven't.

Obviously, I don't own them. Sad, on Arthur's account. Mmm...

Trust

Why did he trust him?

It wasn't the first time that the question had been presented to him, or even the first time that it had skimmed through his mind. Sure, he questioned him, but he questioned everyone on his team. It was the only way to survive this type of work. Why, though did he trust him?

They'd been together for years. That was the simplest answer that he usually returned with. He'd picked up the talented engineer from the same school in Paris that he later found Ariadne in. He was brilliant and driven, two of Dominic Cobb's favorite attributes in picking a team member. He was also capable of thinking outside of the box when need-be, no matter what Eames claimed.

He was dedicated to the details, something that the usual big-picture dreamers had difficulty in keeping up with. He rarely missed even the smallest issues, thinking out every possible outcome before they had even begun the job, and always wanting to know anything that he could not.

Time and dedication aside, Cobb knew that those were only fragments of the whole of the answer. He rarely admitted it and he and Arthur never spoke of it anymore, but the incident – that single, heart-wrenching incident – stood starkly in his mind, pulling him back to remember exactly what kind of man he'd chosen to act as his point. He remembered it in snippets, the realty of it filling his memories more as a dream would in overstated splashes of red on black, seeping through his mind just as the blood had the younger man's suit.

"He took a bullet for me," Cobb answered the question as he tossed back his drink.

Eames' lips perked upward. "That doesn't mean a lot in our business," he stated blandly before following the extractor's example.

Cobb's blue eyes flashed momentarily, images playing in the mind behind them. Arthur's expression had been full of realization as he yelled, pushing him out of the way as the gunshots had gone off, and the two men had gone crashing to the grimy floor of a back alley. It had been one of the few times in his life that he'd been truly afraid, seeing the blood stain his friend's pristine suit in a matter of moments, dark eyes struggling to focus.

"Cobb?"

Dom looked up, blinking away from his empty glass, memories being replaced by a dank bar in LA. It had been years ago now and he wasn't surprised Eames had never heard the story.

He stood, stool scratching harshly against the concrete floor as he paid his tab. He turned to meet the forger's eyes as he spoke. "It does when you're not dreaming."

A/N: I have a confession. I'm addicted to reviews. It's true. Another truth: you should feed my addiction. =)