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Arthur leaned against the porch railing, watching James dig up worms and chase Phillipa with them. Her laughing shrieks were so loud. How did people deal with kids?
“I’m pregnant,” he blurted out.
“What?” Cobb asked, frozen in the midst of applying sunscreen on his nose.
“Pregnant. There is a tiny human inside of me.”
“Oh,” Cobb said. “You okay?”
Arthur shrugged. “I’m keeping it, so yeah, guess so.”
“You’re still allowed to freak out,” Cobb said. “Mal cried all the time when we first found out about Phillipa.”
“Thank fuck, because I’m terrified.” Arthur sighed. “Stop staring at my stomach. I’m not even showing yet.”
“How far along are you?”
“Two months.”
Dom hummed, then looked from Arthur’s stomach to James and Phillipa, then back again.
“No,” Arthur said flatly.
“But it’s perfect,” Dom said, not even trying to pretend he didn’t know what Arthur was talking about.
“We’re not setting our kids up with each other. What’s wrong with you?”
Dom held up a hand. “Be reasonable about this, Arthur. There’s plenty of time. Just think it over.”
Arthur could use a drink right now. He looked down at his stomach. “You’d better be worth it.”
--
“You’re what now?” Ariadne asked, her disbelief evident even on the phone.
“Pregnant. I’ll make you a list of suitable replacements, though I recommend Sanchez. She’s almost as good as me.”
“Can we go back to the pregnant thing?” Ariadne asked. “‘Cause I want to talk about that some more.”
“Let’s not,” Arthur countered.
“You can still work on the job. We don’t really need you to go under for this one.”
“Thanks, Ariadne, but the Somnacin’s not the issue. I’m out of dreamshare for good.”
Ariadne laughed and hung up, which, yeah, okay. That was probably fair.
--
His parents had passed away years ago, so there were no grandparents in the picture, but Arthur felt that his sister should know.
“Will I have to hold it?” she asked.
“No.”
“Oh, thank god,” she breathed. “In that case, congratulations! I mean...maybe. Maybe congratulations?”
“Yes, congratulations,” Arthur said.
“Thank god,” she repeated. “Listen, you’ll probably want to name it something terrible like Greyson or Ariana or whateverthefuck, so call me before you decide, okay?”
“Sure,” Arthur agreed, because he liked both of those, so he could probably get a few more ideas from her under the guise of mutual dislike.
--
“Arthur,” Yusuf said when Arthur answered. “Ariadne tells me you’re pregnant.”
“This is true.”
“I’ve been working on this compound that could work during pregnancy and -”
Arthur hung up. Yusuf called back. Arthur ignored him.
His phone buzzed with a text notification.
What times are you available to test?
I can come to you
I can pay you extra
I can pay the kid
Please arthur
I’m so bored. Nothing happens in mombasa without eames
--
A week later, Arthur stood at the sink, rinsing out his coffee mug, when he was struck by an odd similarity in all of his announcements.
“Motherfucker,” he said under his breath.
“Did you say something?” Eames asked from the table.
Arthur turned around, leaning against the sink. “No one asked me who the father is. Not one. Not Cobb or Ariadne or Yusuf or even my sister.”
Eames gave a small shrug, unconcerned. “We know who it is,” he said, and went back to reading his paper.
“I know we know,” Arthur said, snatching the paper and slamming it down. “But they don’t. They probably think I don’t know whose it is and they’re just too polite to ask.”
Eames looked at Arthur, the newspaper, then glanced away. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it.”
“What did you do?”
“You always assume it was me. That hurts, darling.”
“It is always you,” Arthur said. “You told them, didn’t you?”
Eames smiled, nodded softly, and Arthur would be mad, except that he’d wanted to tell everyone that he and Eames were together for a while now, so anger was pointless.
Arthur found himself smiling along. “What'd they say?”
“Well,” Eames said, rubbing his hands up and down Arthur’s sides as Arthur stood between his legs, “I never talked to your sister, so she may very well think you don’t know whose it is. You tart.” Arthur slapped him playfully upside the head. “You’d already told Cobb, and he’d guessed. Ariadne had, too, though Yusuf thought it was Saito’s.” Eames shivered. “That’d be a terrifyingly well-dressed child.”
“That kid would take over the world,” Arthur said, and laughed when Eames pulled him close and ordered him to never talk about Saito’s lovechild again.
“No,” Arthur agreed, still smiling. He placed Eames’ hand on his stomach and held it there. “Just ours.”