Chapter Text
After everything that happened, Arthur was happy. He was gonna miss his old friend and the naive student architect. He smiled when he thought about them. And an equally enthusiastic smirk appeared when he thought about the forger. He would be a happy man now that Eames was out of his life. A voice in the back of his mind told him otherwise, though. He ignored it. The former point man was practical, rational. That voice was his impulsive side he never paid heed to. The one that always got him into some kind of trouble. When they all parted ways, he never had a second thought about where they'd live, what'd they do now that the excitement was over. Until one day–
"I'm currently working as an intern in Jacobs."
"Wow. That is so great, Ariadne. I'm so happy for you."
It didn't sound like it, he knew, but he meant every word of encouragement to the young woman. He was just a bit perturbed was all. Almost two years without any contact from any member of their former team and Ariadne was the third to call that day. They had all stated the same reason—"I just wanted to see how you were doing."
Ariadne went on about her life and poked at him until he spilled his own details. That's how she was. Yusuf and Cobb understood he was a reserved man, who talked as little as possible about his own life. They didn't push. Ariadne was a different story. She didn't care about that particular personality trait. What she wanted to know, she would find out. After hanging up his phone, Arthur couldn't help but feel a bit hurt by the fact that Eames wasn't the one who called first. It was obviously Cobb. Then why did he feel this way? He couldn't deny that in these last two years, the one he'd expected to annoy him the most had been the one person who had completely disappeared.
The one person I actually wanted to hear from.
He tried to push that ridiculous thought aside, the one from the irrational part of his brain. He was not gullible enough to think that Eames has missed him. That Eames has cared about Arthur's life. Why would he? It was just playful flirting and teasing, like he did to everyone else. Still. He wanted to show his former team member that he cared. For once, he'd chase Eames.
"I'm sorry, but the number you are trying to call has been temporarily disconnected. Please try again later."
He tried it five times with a one-hour interval between each. He finally gave in and called Cobb about it.
"He hasn't called anyone else either. If anything, he's probably moved to another country."
Arthur thanked him for his help and sent his best to the kids.
And so, another obsession began in him. He would constantly reprimand himself, correcting the fact that he didn't "obsess," he was merely thorough. He would not give up on the other man until all resources were exhausted. After all, he used to be the best in the business. Hell, he was damn sure he still was. Arthur smirked at that thought, confident he would track the former forger down.
After a week of rigorous searching—and Ariadne fussing over his newly found "obsession;" seriously, why did she insist on calling it that?—he was able to come up with a location: a floor apartment in the northern part of Paris.
Huh.
Arthur called his co-conspirator and let her in on the news. The point man flinched as she squealed into the phone's microphone and printed out the address and exact directions to his destination.
And then he froze on the spot. Papers still in hand, young woman wailing happily into his ear.
What was he doing?
He accomplished his mission.
Which was?
To pinpoint where his former team member was living and give him a call.
Right?
He collapsed on his desk chair, completely silent as Ariadne drove forward. And then she asked him a question. Or at least he assumed she did.
"Arthur?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you going after him?"
What?
"What?"
"Wasn't that the reason for all of this?"
"Um," the man swallowed.
"Why would you try to pinpoint exactly where he was for just a call? You of all people know there are much simpler ways of retaining such basic information."
That was very true. He had so many contacts all over the world, one of them could've easily found Eames' new phone number. Instead, he decided to track the man down himself, do all the work.
"I-uh... I guess I am," he sounded doubtful.
"Do you want me to accompany you? I have two weeks' worth of vacation. I could really use a break."
She sounded absolutely drained.
"As long as it won't get you in trouble. That's a serious firm you're working for."
"Trust me, it's fine. They owe me free days anyhow."
"Already placing the order for departure. We're leaving on Monday. They're open-end tickets in case you change your mind."
"Do you always need to plan ahead?"
"Absolutely," he smiled brightly as he answered.
"Of course you do."
He could practically hear her rolling her eyes and sighing in subtle frustration. His smiled remained as warm as before.
"Anywho, I'll call you tomorrow. Gotta start packing, you know. Going to Paris and all."
The man just chuckled and they hung up.
He decided to do some packing as well. It was Paris, after all.