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Everyone knew that working for the Cobbs was a little bit different. Not only because they worked in things that definitely fell deep into the shadowy pools of shady, but because the rumors about them spoke of so much more than criminal activity. None of those talks though worried Eames. So they were madly in love. So they kept weird hours, and sometimes Mallorie apparently looked like death warmed over and Dom put aside everything and everyone to care for her. That’s what love was about, right? None of it struck Eames as that odd, so he took the first job.
Only after did he learn how odd things really could be.
Forgeries and documents were a flavor of shady that Eames knew well. Whether is was passports or a Picasso, Eames had a knack for providing perfect items that could hardly be told from the real thing. It was Mal herself that approached Eames on night in Prague, bringing a bottle of thirty three year old Tomintoul and two glasses. Four hours later they were laughing like old friends, leaning into one another for support, and Eames had already signed a contract before they ever started drinking promising to help with a new kind of forgery that Mal swore he’d never seen before.
She hadn’t been lying.
Dreamshare was an entirely new world for Eames. It let him change his physical form, his entirety from top to bottom, and he loved it. He loved getting into dreams, working alongside the Cobbs, exploring so much through the PASIV and all the worlds it gave him access to.
Though people were right. There was a lot of oddities surrounding the Cobbs. It didn’t take long before Eames realized that Mal was sick once a month, and it was always around the full moon. He noticed the way she bore scratches and bruises which belied the handwaving and dismissive nature of their attitude on it that being a woman was hard. Nothing they vowed to him made sense, and as a job for a few months turned into a job for a year, and then heading onto a second, Eames realized how close they were. The three of them.
They worked together, constantly on the job, and then heading to vacations as well. Spending time with each other for fun, drinks shared every evening. Their worlds were entirely melded to one another. Except three days out of every month.
It shouldn’t have mattered to Eames, but it did. He could pretend, but it got harder and harder until he finally he needed an answer.
One that Dom was not willing to give.
Any time that Eames brings it up, Dom would get cagey and quiet and just tell Eames that all he can say is that he’d need to ask Mal. Mal who would smile that tiny, tight, enigmatic smile and walk away. At least until the weekend before their two year anniversary working together.
Mal came to him with a bottle of that same scotch from when they met, a weary look and a shy smile. As she so often did, she took Eames by the hand, leading him out onto the balcony of the hotel where they were staying in Barcelona. The city was still loud and awake, music drifting up to them and the stars above bright and sparkling without the moon to compete.
“If I never told you the truth, Darling, would you leave us?”
It was an interesting way for her to start the conversation, and part of it upset him.If only for one reason.
“If I keep asking, would you ask me to leave you?”
“Eames? No.” She turned towards him, reaching for his hand and holding it tight. “I will not ever ask you to leave us. It’s why I’m coming to you now. I want to ask the opposite, actually.”
He blinked, head tilting as he took a drink of his scotch. “Are you asking me to be part of a threesome?”
The laughter that came from her was musical. Bright and brilliant and pure. “Oh Darling. Yes, and no. Not in the way that you mean. I… Before I ever met dear Dominick, I was friends with some very different people. They lived in a commune in Italy, away from the others, happy and content. They also shared a common affliction, one that changed them and made them very different from others. My third year with them, a year after I learned all of their truths, I joined them.”
When he started to speak, she shook her head. “Let me finish. When we first found you, I thought you were everything I’ve been seeking. Dom and I, we don’t hide like the others did, so those we keep near to us will be limited. So limited that, in truth, we’re only hoping to have you and whomever may become close to you as Dom and I are. At least I hope you can one day find that. I’ve wanted it for you. That and for this…”
She pauses then, letting go of his hand as she takes a drink.
“Nearly ten years ago, I was transformed. I was bitten and the next full moon, I changed. That’s why the bruises and the scratches. It’s damage I do to myself while Dominick keeps me safe. It’s not always easy, but we manage things and we’re happy. I want… I want you to be part of this as well,” she said, watching him closely.
The drink he takes is more than a sip. It’s nearly impossible to do this. To stare her in the eyes and not laugh, to not mock what she’s saying. Except this is Mallorie. Mallorie who he’d spent hours talking to about his family. Mallorie who knew about the titles, about the pressures, the arranged marriage he’d run from. Mallorie who in any other time and place, without Dom there, he would have fallen in love with. Mallorie who he loves. Loves with all his heart, is part of him, and he can’t help but be drawn to the light she emits, purity and energy and strength.
If it had come from any other woman, anyone else on the planet, and he might well have thought it was a joke, laughed it off as he stole the bottle and walked away. Except this is Mal and she doesn’t play games like that. She doesn’t lie. She is perfect and wicked and angelic all at the same time. She would find much more from the truth than she would ever have from stories and lies.
“You…” Saying it aloud is not going to change anything. Putting the words into the universe doesn’t make it more real. Because that’s the thing. He knows it’s real. All of it is real. Mallorie is a werewolf and Dom is her… keeper. She lives her life, turns hairy once a month, and is the most amazing woman Eames has ever known.
“What do I have to do?”
Mallorie’s eyes lit up, bringing her glass up in toast. “In two weeks, you’ll learn what happens. In a year, all you’ll have to do is let me bite you. Why do I think you won’t argue?”
More of her playful flirtations, the sort he was used to and enjoyed so dearly. Something that would be part of his life forever is he joined her, stayed with, they become part of the same pack.
Eames lifted his glass in toast. “Well then. I guess we should start planning to finish this job before the full moon then, hmmm?”
Laughing, she barely set down her glass before she launched herself at Eames, hugging him tightly. “My pack,” she cooed, kissing his brow as stroking his hair. “Mine.”
Releasing him, she stepped back, grabbing up the bottle and her glass. “Now, come with me. We need to talk with Dominick, and we need to plan for things. You’ll have all your training and I’ll make sure that everything is perfect for you. Just as my pack originally did for me. It will be perfect, Eames. Everything will be just perfect.”
Kissing his brow once more, she slipped inside to find Dominick.
Eames stayed there, glass clutched in his hand and trying to think of what all of this means, what his life is going to become. Later, later when she hasn’t put this before him, he’ll start to think about what it all means. What it will change. Until then though, all he can think about is Mal’s talk of this person that will be his Dom.
“As if,” Eames mutters, rolling his eyes. He knows the truth. He cares about others. He’s sexually eager and has had lovers. Someone that he cares about as much as he does Mallorie? Who looks at him the way that Dom looks at her? “A nice though, Mal, but never going to happen.”
Setting down the glass, Eames reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the many poker chips that lingered in his life. This one was from a game in Thailand that had netted Eames more money than he’d ever seen in one game. It was the game that had let him leave the rest of what he did, and slip into Mal and Dom’s life without looking back. He held it up where he could see the black and gold details, the beautiful inscription in inlaid gold.
“Here goes nothing,” he said, kissing the center of it before reaching back and tossing it as hard and as far as he could.
Quickly the piece was lost in the shadows, disappearing forever from his view.
Falling, lost in the darkness, missing buildings and balconies and crevices that could catch it to land on a notebook. Thunking down hard against the moleskin, denting it through the cover and staying there on it’s edge.
Arthur stared at the coin, glancing up and then back to it as he gingerly touched it with one finger. It stayed where it was, balanced and having entirely ruined the cover. A single word in inlaid gold bisected the center.
Dream.