A/N: So after watching Inception twice, I decided to write this first chapter... which then turned into a 4 part story. If you don't like slash, I suggest you only read part one.

Meeting

From the first time you meet someone, you can usually tell how well that relationship is going to go. Someone is a jerk to you or your friends, or perhaps they're hostile to someone you don't even know, but you see it. They yell at you or they pick on you. Maybe they just give you a bad look. On the other hand, they may smile and joke with you. They could be sweet, or dull, or maybe romantic. Not necessarily nice, but definitely not mean.

There are people you meet and you simply know that they will end happily as friends or perhaps lovers or more. There are people you meet and know that in a week or two, you'll have forgotten their names and will never see them again. Then there are those people you meet where you just know things will go wrong.

"Name's Eames."

This was one of those meetings.

Arthur had definitely been calibrating the specificity of the new compounds to make sure the machine didn't give too much too fast and send them all into limbo forever when the door opened behind him. He'd heard Cobb speaking quickly but calmly to someone new. Oh right. Today, Cobb was meant to be bringing in the new forger.

When the point man turned around, however, he saw something quite different than he'd expected. There was Cobb, standing just inside the door, talking with a smile on his face and basically luring the other man inside, as though he had to convince the new team member that this was worth his time. And then there was the new forger. He was gruff and unshaven in a coarse yet 007 sophisticated kind of way. He wore a shabby three-piece suit, as though Cobb had rescued him from a bar fight and a mugging simultaneously. The man definitely looked like he was a drinker.

He looked over at Arthur, the only other person in the building, and seemed to consider him, wondering who he was, while he brought his hand up to his mouth and blew gingerly on a scrape he had across the back of his fingers. It looked like a knife wound. Arthur took in the sight of the man, beaten up and drunken but with sense enough about him, and swallowed forcefully.

The door shut behind the forger, clanging loudly and shutting out the sunlight. Arthur jolted in surprise before quickly turning back to his work. He began unwinding some tubes for Cobb and the new man to use, but then a hand hit his shoulder.

It was Cobb. He was still smiling, a smile that made Arthur believe Cobb had done more than just find this guy in a bar. It was a smile of confidence and excitement, a sort of energy and passion for the prospect of a new member the likes of which Arthur hadn't seen on Dom's face since his marriage to Mal. That fact seemed to finally click to Arthur, and the sound of the world began to translate properly in his ears. Suddenly, he could not only hear and see Cobb talking, he could also understand it.

"This is Arthur. He's my point man," Cobb was saying. Arthur gave a half smile and continued to mess with the machine on the table before him, his back to the other two.

"He any good?" the new man asked, voice not as rough as Arthur had expected, and he was apparently British. Arthur swallowed again and turned his head the slightest of minimal degrees to try and take a second look at this stranger.

"Best of the best," Cobb assured, squeezing Arthur's shoulder. "He can get you any information about a target that you need. He's skilled."

"Oh, I'm sure," the Brit mused, and Arthur didn't think he was still talking about extraction.

"Arthur, this is Mr. Eames. He'll be joining us for this next job and then perhaps some after that if he likes the way it works out," Cobb explained.

Based on the rules of engagement and propriety, now would be the optimum time to turn and greet this new member. Arthur took a steady breath and turned around with a smile. He found the British man closer than he'd expected, standing there almost lazily and looking expectant. When Arthur opened his mouth but failed to speak, Eames stepped up to the challenge. He smiled wickedly.

"Pleasure to meet you. Name's Eames," he greeted, holding out his hand. Arthur gave a half-sour smile and took the hand.

"A-Arthur," he stumbled out. Cobb didn't seem to notice the stutter, but Eames did. He watched Arthur as though he could pry open the point man's secrets without the use of his dreams. It sort of unnerved Arthur and he adopted a glare.

"Pleasure," Eames repeated. He looked snarky, like he knew something Arthur didn't. Arthur didn't like that.

"Good," Cobb interjected and pat Arthur's shoulder before finally releasing it. "Mr. Eames, please take a seat and we'll get started."

"Just Eames, please," the rough male requested, eyes never leaving Arthur's. Arthur stared determinedly back. "Mr. Eames is my late father." And he finally lifted his stare off Arthur and looked over at Cobb getting ready in a chair. "Just makes me feel a bit old, if you know what I'm sayin."

"Fine by me. Arthur, give us ten minutes, would you?" Cobb said. Arthur nodded curtly and turned back to his machine. He handed a tube to Eames, who let his pinky drag against Arthur's hand.

"Much obliged, sweetheart," he thanked and took his seat. Arthur refused to show anything but his blank seriousness as he turned to the machine, punched in the number and pressed the button. He watched Eames fall under and then frowned, no… he pouted.

What was this man playing at? Was he trying to be seductive or just asserting his dominance? What was going on in his brain… but then again, a forger was always hard to read. They were such masters at changing their game depending on who was playing. Arthur refused to be a part of this game… but he couldn't let this new man affect his work. He still had to complete his duty to the best of his ability.

Still… watching the new forger sleep on that chair was making Arthur think. Despite his brain reminding him not to care, he was still trying to imagine what could possibly have been going on in Eames' head, trying to make it translate properly in his own mind. It was like one of those first meetings, where you were pretty sure life was going to end up being less comfortable with that person around, how you just knew things wouldn't be simple anymore.

It was one of those meetings you knew was going to screw up your life.