unconventionaltechniques | Arthur and Eames

Arthur and Eames

Arthur and Eames have been partners for longer than they've been with the organization. Both started out as criminals in two different fields, but the word of dream sharing brought them together. Arthur, a brilliant tactician, and Eames, a forger in every sense and meaning of the word, started out almost adversarial. One crisp and sharp with a military precision and the other messy and wild and dangerous in other ways they found it interesting to work with one another, to say the least.

In the end though they learned that friction between them was all about attraction and once they opened up to one another, the world for them changed.

Now they've walked away from dream share to work for an organization that keeps America safe, protects its people, and lets them do what they do best. Subvert criminals by twisting the law.

Everyone knows they're not just partners in the work sense but in every sense. In love. Devoted to one another. Able to read the other without a word, Barely with even a look. They're not as tightly wound as some in the Ravens, and certainly cause a lot of trouble in different ways, but they're good at what they do... and they're feared by those that know the truth of who and what they are.

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"They say every team has one," Eames said, sounding cheerful about it. "Well and some have two charmers, but they're the ones I'm told to worry about the most. Aside from the present company."

Meridian knows he's the boogey man. Even for their own. But that didn't mean he was exempt from hearing the stories as well. "When you name someone after gods what do you expect?" Even if Adonis wasn't a god. He knew though about Apollo's background. Even the organization couldn't hide from Meridian when he wanted information. Not to mention bringing him in to see about a new division and their original agent, Zero.

Some still included the patient in that name.

Mere looked at Ex. Talking in not something they always outright did, but they didn't need to. Did they? They could communicate without talking. And now they had more, he thoughts, stroking his thumb over the back of Ex's hand to reassure him it would be fine.

Ex knows their reputation and knows what they're known for. After this long, they better have a damn good reputation. "They were asking for that one and the trouble they brought when they gave them those nicknames," Ex muses as he takes another pull from his bottle.

Arthur snorts at the response and tilts his head in agreement. The six different teams that made up the Ravens fascinated him. He'd heard and read plenty of stories about each of them and even kept tabs on them in case they were in the area. "Thoughts on the Royals?"

Ex looks at Mere and knows exactly what he was thinking with just that glance. They didn't need to communicate verbally - they did damn well communicating just like this. He gives Mere's hand a little squeeze to let him know he agrees. They would be just fine.

He considers Arthur's question. "They're handy to have," he admits. "A good face to hide what we really do behind."

"Don't count them out because of their reputation." He says it softly, glancing between them even as he considers his next words. "The Prince is true royalty. Descendant of the crown and titled and all. They play on that, pretend it's nothing major but the truth is he's direct to the current monarch. They like to pretend otherwise but he's a direct son of a mistress."

And maybe not the mistress but someone else. "It used to be common among royals. Any spare and all," he notes. "As for the First Son, I think they had no choice with him. They were already together, even if their pr didn't want to admit it was going on for years."

He pauses then and has to ask. "What do you think about that? When we're told no relationships, no emotions, and they bring them in and they're openly together."

Arthur watches them and listens to Mere as he talks about them. He had known through his extensive research that the prince was royalty but the details had been a little fuzzy.

He nods in understanding.

"It is a little annoying," he admits. "That there's one rule for them and another for us. But, that said, you have to wonder if it's because some of us are less subtle than others. Or, if they realize that you can't throw two people together as much as they throw us together without something eventually happening."

He watches the waiter come back to the table to ask if they want any appetizers.

"Do you gentlemen want anything to start? The smoked salmon is good as is the caviar," Arthur says, taking another sip of his wine.

Mere knew he was taking a chance talking about this, but ever since the cave and falling in love with this beautiful man beside him he's been thinking about things and not anyone to talk it over with. Especially not anyone that has been hiding their feelings and following the rules like they have.

He glances at Ex, staring at him for the longest time. He's quiet, and curious which is something he's not always felt and it definitely gets him wondering. "I thought I never would. Even knowing how perfectly matched we are."

Arthur watches them, sees that connection. He and Arthur had dived into dreams and come together in ways that no one else had. Maybe the way they pushed them into this new pairing did that on hyper mode. Would he die for Arthur? Absolutely. He knew he looked at him the same way he was watching Mere look at his partner.

"Then they underestimated you both, didn't they?"

Mere nods at that, his expression changing as the waiter came up, a mask of friendliness he slipped on like a Venetian mask. "The salmon sounds good, actually."

They were taking a lot of chances being in Paris for longer than it took for Mere to get his suits, for Ex to get his own presents from Mere and to pick up a new cologne. They shouldn't be here, not active or not, but he can't lie and say he wasn't glad they were here. Their entire relationship had changed because of the two men sitting in front of them and whether they knew it or not, Ex would be always appreciative to them. May even watch out for them in his own way.

All because it opened their eyes to the possibility of what was in front of them.

He looks at Mere, staring at him and knowing he felt the exact same way. He knows he doesn't have to but he squeezes Mere's hand at his words. There had never been and there never would be anyone else for him.

There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for his partner, his lover... He looks at Eames when he asks the question. "They always do."

Arthur watches them and recognizes that connection just as he recognized it in himself and Eames.

In perfect French, he orders two orders of the salmon and another bottle of wine.

Before the waiter leaves, Ex orders another beer then watches him go for only a second then letting his mask slip away again. "Have you met any of the others?" Not that they were supposed to meet each other but when did that ever stop anyone who were like them?

Eames glances at Arthur, knowing that they're pretty much in for a penny, in for a pound at this point. Why hide things when they've already opened up as much as they. After all, they're already in deep, sharing a meal and conversation that they shouldn't be.

"We had a run in with the Royals once, but they don't know who we were. Just..." He figures if they haven't looked yet, they might find the connection one day. "Prince isn't the only royal in the business. My family is in the House of Lords and holds titled lands. So we were at an event with them, and obviously knew who they were but they only knew me for my family not for the Ravens."

Arthur gives Eames a little nod. Much like Eames, he felt that at this point, they were so far in the deep end that what was one more piece of information?

Ex's face to his point had been fairly expressionless but that does give him a little bit of a surprised arch of an eyebrow. "Interesting," he muses, studying him silently before giving him a little nod. He supposed it made sense though.

"And your family were okay with your first career path?"

Arthur snorts at the question and tops his glass off.

Eames can't help but to laugh at that, lifting his glass in toast and obviously liking the question and all it infers.

"Oh they see me as a troubled bohemian. They have known about some things I've done over the years and it's why a blind eye is turned to things, but they don't know about our work with dreams."

He says it lightly but he watches them closely. And that might get him a look at Meridian shifting slightly, the most discomfort he might show.

"I was original recruited for that program." It's something he's never talked about, hadn't had a reason to before now. "They thought I would make a good point." He gives a nod to Arthur, the best in that business and he knew it. "I wasn't good for it. Too aggressive, they said."

Ex nods in understanding. He knew about the program - from Meridian mostly but he'd done his own research into it. They had access to everything and if they didn't, he found access into everything else.

Arthur returns Meridian's nod. "It does require a little subtlety," he agrees with a little quirk of his mouth. "Unless you go the forging route," he shoots a teasing look at Eames.

Ex gives Meridian's hand a little squeeze when he shifts slightly and rests it on his thigh. "The program sounded fascinating," he admits.

It's an odd conversation to be having. One that brings up a lot about the past, of the things that were part of his life before Ex. Things that, perhaps, they should talk about. More than just the programs he had been unqualified for in one way or another.

"You both embody what you need. Subtlety and imagination. I am the best at what I do, but not for either of those reasons."

It had been a blow, being told he couldn't do the job, but then he had found he was much more suited for something else.

His hand squeezes Ex's. "Suppose there's some things we should talk about," he murmurs.

Eames finds himself practically mesmerized. It's like watching a play of their early years. No matter the past, it showed how well suited they were for one another and the program they're in now. Both himself and Ex, and Arthur and Eames.

Arthur gives Meridian a nod. "Despite their best efforts, we still have our strengths and only minor weaknesses," he can't help but rib their employers just a little bit.

Ex, not having expected that for some reason, chuckles and takes a sip from his beer. "Speak for yourself," he says. "We are perfect." And although he says it with a perfectly straight face, there is a teasing glint in his eyes.

He glances at Meridian at his words and cocks his head just a little. "When you're ready." It wasn't the only thing they'd eventually talk about. He still wants to know what happened in that cave even if he hasn't brought himself to think about it for too long.

Arthur watches them for just a minute. As someone who spent much of his early military years in Project Somnacin, he couldn't help but be curious what either of the two men's mindscapes were like. He assumes the'd be militarized to the millimeter of possibility. Maybe he'd bring it up to Eames later and get his read. Not that he thought they should ever try to get in their minds. He was more curious than he was wanting anything nefarious from them.

Arthur glances at Ex. "You weren't missing much from the program though from a military standpoint," he says, his voice low. "Watching someone die over and over and over again wasn't enjoyable."

Meridian is quiet, taking it all in. Then he does something that very few have ever seen from him.

"They tell me I'm the Apex which means there are no faults. If I do it, then it's meant to be."

It's a bad joke, but it's a joke and coming from him.

Though it does make him think of something.

"But if they see our emotions for one another as a weakness, then that is their mistake. For any of us. Since we finished training we have been connected in ways most humans will never know. Since things changed for us a few weeks ago, I've realized that these emotions don't hinder us. Its why I think command discouraged it. It makes us stronger than they can handle. No threats will work. Nothing they can hold over us."

Even as he says it, Eames nods. "Exactly what it is. I agree with that.'

Even as he says it, his hand slides to take Arthur's under the table as he talks about people dying, about watching it and how bad it was. "The military doesn't care about lives, just about winning."

Before Ex realizes what he's doing, a laugh escapes his mouth. He can't help it. He knows when Meridian is joking and he's amused.

Arthur snorts. "I agree," he says simply. He pauses and looks at them. "I can say that I am more dangerous with having Eames at my side and in my life."

He takes Eames' hand in his and squeezes it. "They don't," he agrees. "Only that they win this never-ending war."

Ex nods and watches them then looks at Meridian. They've learned a lot since sitting down with them and he's thankful for it. He's glad that it's not something that "shouldn't have happened" and they were some kind of abnormality.

That he can make Ex laugh means a lot to him. More than that, it delights him that his partner knew his joke. Even as close as they are, humor is not something he's shown often so for his partner to know and see it, that means a lot to him.

"I never thought I could be more deadly until a cave and bitter below zero temperatures," he murmurs softly, his hand going to Ex's and squeezing it tight. "Now I know."

And they will live with it or they'll handle things in a whole other way.

"I appreciate you both meeting with us. I think it's given me a perspective I had found hard to perceive until now."

Arthur once again studies the lined suit jacket that Ex wore and wonders if that had something to do with it. Okay, no, he doesn't wonder so much as it makes sense now. With something like that and with the near death experience Ex suffered, he's sure that's had to fuck with his core body temperature.

"I'm glad you reached out," Arthur says. "No matter where or what we are, it's helpful to know that there's another out there who has gone through something similar."

Ex nods, squeezing Meridian's hand tightly. Glad for it and the warmth of his hand. He didn't want to let go. Not right now. It felt too warm and right. "Thank you," he says and watches as their appetizers are brought over.

"And we will talk more over the weekend," he says, looking at Eames then Arthur. In their line of work, having coworkers wasn't a thing. But if they could work on this connection with another set of Ravens, it would useful, he's sure.

Dinner had gone well, and the talk before it even more so. Eames would be lying - which he does well but still - if he said he wasn't curious about how well trained Ex and Meridian actually were.

More than that though, he can't help but to be curious about the pair in general. They were legends even to others in the business. Ghosts that could get in anywhere and take out anyone.

And now here they were at their Paris home. It wasn't their main base, but a place where they went to relax. Not surprisingly they had never had friends there. This would be the closest to that.

"Can I get you a drink?"

Arthur and Meridian were talking elsewhere. Eames suspected it was showing off weapons and tech, but he found himself curious about the partner. The one that had survived what should have killed him. That definitely made Eames curious.

Meridian can't help how stiff he is. Nothing about this is normal to him. It's a social norm that he usually handles through fake charm and exquisite training but he's doing his best not to let that all show now. He doesn't want to put on a mask with them, even if he knew it would be easier.

He's kind of glad to take their time apart. He's still learning how to focus on here and now and not merely on Xaiver.

Though his single pointed focus doesn't go away, considering Arthur silently before asking something he's wondered for a while.

"Do you both still practice the dream work?"

Maybe it's a blunt question but he's not one to hide his true self unless its for a job and this most certainly is not.

Truth be told, Arthur didn't take Meridian's stiffness negatively. Of him and Eames, he's usually the same way. Not only that but he's worked with several less-than-savory types of people throughout his various careers and so he's not put off by it in the least.

He's glad to have more one-on-one time with the apex of them all. He could tell they were similar in some regard and not just because of their similar taste in tailors.

Maybe he should be concerned about standing in Eames and his weapons room with a man like Meridian but he didn't. Not really. He cocks his head at the question.

"Not nearly as much as we used to," he says after some consideration. It isn't something the government or their handlers know (or maybe they do and simply turn a blind eye to) but they'd kept a PASIV just in case.

"Neither of us is willing to let our skills go unpracticed after the years we spent dedicating to it."

The only people Ex can say he spent time around being the most himself was his Meridian and his brother. He found it different, being in another's company and attempting to not hide who he was. Especially another Raven.

"I'll take a beer or vodka if you have it - I'm not particular," he says, watching the other man.

After their dinner, they'd done additional research on them and Ex would have to admit, he found them both intriguing. And not just because of their history in Dreamshare either.

"How much of the art in your home are originals," he asks, walking over to a painting.

He watches Arthur closely, waiting on an answer. He suspect he knows. Not because of anything they've given away but because it's what he would do. He would have kept all he could, used it when he needed to. He had from other parts of his life but then nothing else in his life measured up to the program they were in now.

The PASIV dream share program came about as close as secret organizations got. Without just about the same amount of dangerous men and secrets.

"Do you use it as part of our program?" Ours. It's something shared, just as he's learning there's a lot they share in common. It's interesting, especially as he finds himself feeling a kind of kinship to the man there with him.

"You don't have to answer that, but I'm curious who has an advantage over me."

He's still not sure he would trust himself if he was Arthur. Even if they both had intel on the other.

"Sounds like a man after my own heart," he says, heading to the corner bar and getting into a small fridge. He came back with two cold bottles of American domestic beer, handing one to Ex.

He isn't sure what question he was expecting, but that makes him light up. He gives Ex a long, curious look before he starts a slow, curious look around the room. There were several pieces by big name artists who were hung in museums.

"Well that one you're looking at most certainly can't be,' he says with a wicked smile. "It's currently on loan to the Met, after all. The one over there is in the Louvre still, I think."

He's not denying they're originals, he's just testing to try and find just how much Ex knows.

Ex takes the cold bottle from him and suppresses a shiver. He brings the bottle to his mouth and takes a drink from it.

He notices the way Eames' face lights up and gives that slow look around the room. His mouth quirks up. "You think," he chuckles low.

"What's impressive is none of them are aware," he muses and walks over to one in particular that was a Matisse and hums. Whether he was talking about the galleries or their bosses...bosses, who were to say. "I assume the skills passed from this to your other work?"

"No," he says, and the 'our' doesn't escape his notice. "They either don't know or don't care what we get up to but we haven't used it in our new program. Though, I can see why they wouldn't want their weapons to be weaponized against them."

Does he agree? No.

But logically, he could see why.

He remains quiet for a moment as he considers the other man. "Eames and I were talking though and both of us agree that without any training, you and Ex's minds are probably already militarized. If either of you want to test that out and help you where it may be lacking, let us know," he offers. Being torn apart by their security wouldn't be his favorite thing ever but as he told Eames, to study it would be fascinating.

Did he think Meridian and Ex would take them up on it? He's not entirely sure. Maybe.

Despite himself, Eames laughs. "I make it a point never to visit the ones out in the wild. I never want my face linked with them," he admits, coming to stand beside Ex, studying him rather than the painting.

"Do you know the number one key to forging, no matter how you do it or what medium? People want to believe. No one wants to accept that somehow a dozen years ago some troubled kid from a landed family in England somehow not only recreate a master's strokes but replaced it with him own.

[ His voice is soft, lost in what he is most passionate about and it shows. ]

No one wants to believe that what they see in their dreams is cultivated not by their mind but by the mind of an Extractor and his team.

Even on a level now. They don't want to think that a Raven team has found them. They can't make their brain comprehend that the nice bloke they've had a drink with is the distraction for the man sent to kill them. They want to believe the story they're shown.

I like being the one capable of suspending their disbelief.

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Arthur and Eames

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An interest in dream share; pt 1

An interest in dream share; pt 1

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