Arthur is staring at Eames like he has walked into the house with a bomb strapped to his chest, not a sleeping child. Eames tries not to breathe, afraid it will set Arthur off and she only just fell asleep even though it’s four in the morning. The plane they took from Beijing was noisy and she whimpered the whole way. Eames sets down the duffle bag he’s stuffed with all the baby supplies he could find at the 24 hour supermarket. The thunk seems to jar Arthur out of his stupor.
“Why didn‘t you tell me you were part of a kidnapping?” Arthur asks, getting out of the bed and circling the room towards Eames.
“She hasn‘t been kidnapped,” Eames replies, slipping her out of the carrier and entrapping it from around his shoulder. She fits perfectly into the crook of his arm.
“Then why is she here?”
“I couldn‘t just leave her there,” Eames explains, tracing his finger over tiny, tiny cheeks. “She‘s just so small, Arthur. The place was terrible, even with all the money he was going to throw at it. She would have been so alone, so tiny and alone and wishing she weren‘t there.” Eames knows he isn’t talking just about his daughter now, but he ignores it.
“Eames, why did you - how the fuck are we supposed to work with her here?,” Arthur snaps, looking positively furious.
“I‘m not sure you should say fuck in front of my accidental daughter,” is all Eames says, taking a half step back to protect her from Arthur being a loud twit.
“You just said it,” Arthur replies petulantly. “And what does that even mean, she‘s obviously not an accident.”
“I didn‘t even mean to look at the babies. We were just passing through the room and there she was, needing me without even being awake. I had to, Arthur, I had to,” Eames whispers.
“Did you buy things for her besides that ridiculous harness thing?” Arthur asks. Eames makes a noise of assent and gestures with his foot to the bag. Arthur unzips it and immediately scoffs.
“You can‘t feed her this shit, Eames. It‘ll give her digestive problems. And these diapers leak. Are there any clothes in here? The pacifiers are too thin, she‘ll gum them to death in a week,” Arthur continues his tirade about every single thing that Eames bought while Eames just stares at him in wonder.
“Why do you know all of this?” He asks.
“I um,” Arthur straightens up and scowls at him. “I read things Eames, try it once in a while. We‘ll have to go as soon as the stores open. I can‘t believe you didn’t buy her any clothes, you idiot.”
“Well they didn‘t have any at the grocer-” Eames stops talking because Arthur is gently taking her from Eames’s arms and cradling her against his own body. And isn’t that the most perfect sight ever?
“Eames you are an idiot!”
“I am not! I‘ll have you know I‘ve already called John and he‘s going to create a whole line for children inspired by her!” So maybe bringing up Galliano while Arthur was already obviously pissed off about Eames bringing home a baby wasn’t the best idea, considering the fiasco that had occured last time Arthur and John had been in the same room, but Eames didn’t expect Arthur to get that upset, constipated look on his face that he sometimes got back when Cobb was still running and Arthur wanted to shoot his friend in the head rather than keep helping him.
We're going backwards part 2/3
“Why didn‘t you tell me you were part of a kidnapping?” Arthur asks, getting out of the bed and circling the room towards Eames.
“She hasn‘t been kidnapped,” Eames replies, slipping her out of the carrier and entrapping it from around his shoulder. She fits perfectly into the crook of his arm.
“Then why is she here?”
“I couldn‘t just leave her there,” Eames explains, tracing his finger over tiny, tiny cheeks. “She‘s just so small, Arthur. The place was terrible, even with all the money he was going to throw at it. She would have been so alone, so tiny and alone and wishing she weren‘t there.” Eames knows he isn’t talking just about his daughter now, but he ignores it.
“Eames, why did you - how the fuck are we supposed to work with her here?,” Arthur snaps, looking positively furious.
“I‘m not sure you should say fuck in front of my accidental daughter,” is all Eames says, taking a half step back to protect her from Arthur being a loud twit.
“You just said it,” Arthur replies petulantly. “And what does that even mean, she‘s obviously not an accident.”
“I didn‘t even mean to look at the babies. We were just passing through the room and there she was, needing me without even being awake. I had to, Arthur, I had to,” Eames whispers.
“Did you buy things for her besides that ridiculous harness thing?” Arthur asks. Eames makes a noise of assent and gestures with his foot to the bag. Arthur unzips it and immediately scoffs.
“You can‘t feed her this shit, Eames. It‘ll give her digestive problems. And these diapers leak. Are there any clothes in here? The pacifiers are too thin, she‘ll gum them to death in a week,” Arthur continues his tirade about every single thing that Eames bought while Eames just stares at him in wonder.
“Why do you know all of this?” He asks.
“I um,” Arthur straightens up and scowls at him. “I read things Eames, try it once in a while. We‘ll have to go as soon as the stores open. I can‘t believe you didn’t buy her any clothes, you idiot.”
“Well they didn‘t have any at the grocer-” Eames stops talking because Arthur is gently taking her from Eames’s arms and cradling her against his own body. And isn’t that the most perfect sight ever?
“Eames you are an idiot!”
“I am not! I‘ll have you know I‘ve already called John and he‘s going to create a whole line for children inspired by her!” So maybe bringing up Galliano while Arthur was already obviously pissed off about Eames bringing home a baby wasn’t the best idea, considering the fiasco that had occured last time Arthur and John had been in the same room, but Eames didn’t expect Arthur to get that upset, constipated look on his face that he sometimes got back when Cobb was still running and Arthur wanted to shoot his friend in the head rather than keep helping him.