Work Text:
Arthur was in the middle of briefing Ariadne and Yusuf on the new mark when Eames sauntered in, three hours late, bearing a package wrapped in loud green wrapping paper. He presented it to Arthur with the smile of an accomplished man. "For you, darling, on a job well done!" he exclaimed, making no excuses for being late. Arthur merely gazed blankly at the box, upset with the interruption.
"Did you think if you showed up a half day late we'd have already finished the job for you? I'm afraid even we aren't that good," Arthur drawled.
Eames, however, was far too excited to heed Arthur's dismissal and continued, "Ah, I know it'll go off without a hitch. Heard that we have a smashing team with an especially dashing point man." Arthur's face twitched as if he was containing the urge to roll his eyes.
"Since you're obviously dying to know what I've got here for you, I'll give you a hint- it's really expensive and I haven't stolen it," said Eames, stepping closer to Arthur, smirking all the while. Yusuf and Ariadne did not look surprised by the disturbance; in fact, Yusuf looked like he had just sat down at the movie theatre. Eames couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed with the chemist when he himself was interested in where this was headed. Quickly feeling his meeting slipping out of control, Arthur took the gift and set it on his desk behind him. "Thank you, Mr. Eames, for another astounding display of your professionalism. If we could get back to the Duke, then?" Arthur began firmly.
But Eames was having none of that.
With the shamelessness of a thief, he replied, "Open it now or I walk around topless for the rest of the day." Almost as soon as the words left Eames' mouth, Ariadne sent him a smirk of her own. "You know, Arthur, opening it now would just be giving into terrorist demands," she reasoned. "It would be much more professional to leave it alone for the time being." Arthur chose to ignore Ariadne's comment and grumbled, "Fine, Eames. If this is the way you wish to run an operation…" He walked over the desk and carefully unwrapped the, in his opinion, garish paper.
Underneath he found a beautifully hand carved chess set, complete with marble pieces and a polished wooden board that doubled as a carrying case. If he wasn't so used to brushing Eames off, he might have thanked the gift bearer. Instead, he smoothed his expression and said, "Eames, you do realize that the mark will be more likely to tell his secrets to the Duchess who, need I remind you, you will be impersonating rather than betting them on the outcome of a chess match, so if you'd at least open the file I gave you…"
"Duke of Ellington, Christian name Gideon James, is turning 87 this March. He has been married to the Duchess, Marsha Elaine, since her 21st birthday and they are celebrating their anniversary in thirty days' time. We are to find out who he will be willing his estate to seeing as he has no children." Affecting an regal feminine accent, he ploughed through the rest of the file he'd been handed yesterday, "She talks with a slightly Northern accent even though she was born in the South because her childhood nanny was from Leeds. Her husband, our mark, gets massaged every day to alleviate pains in his back. We will impersonate the masseuse, take him under while he is napping, and extract the information during his anniversary party which Ariadne is working so hard to recreate." Switching back to his voice, "At least open the file! Why do you think I was late? I got caught up in reading your report and was so enthralled I didn't keep up with the time."
Eames' 'winning smile' must have put Arthur over the edge, because he wearily announced, "Let's go on break." Yusuf looked a bit put out that neither of the men lost their cool, but he was getting hungry anyway. Yusuf didn't do much during the day because his compounds were already made, but he always made sure everyone ate. "I'm feeling Chinese," he announced. "Drive me, Eames? You're oh so good with driving on the left."
"I can't believe you're already leaving. You've yet to put your things away, much less started on any actual work," Arthur clipped. As an afterthought, he added, "And don't get me the spiciest thing you can find this time. You know I enjoy the ability to taste my food." Eames just smiled in response. "And for you Ariadne?"
"Surprise me. Not that you don't do that already," she chuckled. "Wonderful! We'll be back within the hour then. Eames, after you," Yusuf said, holding the door open for Eames. As they made their way down to the parking lot of the building they were using, they heard Ariadne say, "Oh come off it, Arthur. You know he makes these jobs less dull…"
_____
Eames and Yusuf walked into an empty studio, arms laden with steamy take away. Yusuf flopped down onto the couch he'd brought in earlier and began digging in. In between bites, he motioned towards the second room, which Arthur commandeered as his office. "I think they're holed away in Arthur's. Bring them their food?" Eames tossed Ariadne's egg roll dish ("The most basic thing on the menu, she'll never see it coming…") on top of Arthur's Empress Chicken meal ("I'm being serious, Yusuf. It really is his favorite.") and crossed the room in long, excited steps. As he got closer, he heard Arthur's voice take a tone he'd never heard it adopt.
"Ariadne, I believe that is why they call me king of this game. Think strategically. Perhaps I can teach you how after I'm finished trouncing you?"
Eames smirk matched what he assumed was on Arthur's face. If he had known Arthur was such a trash talker, he would have bought the set ages ago. Budging the door open with his hip, Eames handed over their dishes. Ariadne peeked in hers and chuckled. "I say surprise me, you get me something boring. How is it you manage to always come out on top?"
"It's what you hire me for," Eames said. Pouting his lips and turning his attention to Arthur, "I got your favorite in hopes you'd forgive my tardiness this morning." Arthur looked thoughtful. "Is my soy sauce low sodium?" He opened his package to not only find that Eames did get his preferred meal and sauce, but he also found an extra fortune cookie. He nodded in approval, "All is forgiven." Arthur realized what he said and quickly amended, "No, wait. Not all. Today is forgiven."
Ariadne snorted into her plate and made a move to start cleaning up the chess board. "Now that they're back, you'll have to show off another time, I'm afraid," she said with mock sincerity, sending Arthur a sly glance.
"Don't make such a fuss!" Eames insisted, stilling Ariadne's hand. "Yusuf's already eating without us and I wouldn't want you to stop on my account. Besides, I only bought Arthur the board because I've been curious as to his playing style since I met him." He pulled out her chair so she would sit back down. "Go on," he encouraged. "I'm not sure this is necessary…" Arthur started, but Eames cut him off. "Nonsense. I just heard you call yourself, what was it, the 'king of the game'? Arthur, I must insist."
Eames looked at the board for the first time since walking into the room. He only needed to look at the arrangement for a couple of seconds before he noticed something amiss. "Arthur," Eames asked, looking confused, "where is your king?" Arthur at least had the decency to look meek when he said, "The pointy pieces are the kings. We, ah. We're playing checkers." Ariadne looked like she wanted to add to the conversation, but Eames beat her to it. "You mean to tell me that I buy you a five thousand dollar chess set and you desecrate it with a child's game?"
"Oh, lay off, Eames!" Ariadne admonished. "Arthur's never played chess and I didn't want to go through the process of teaching him all the rules while we were waiting for you." At this, Arthur flushed. He muttered something that sounded like, "I wasn't going to tell him that," but Eames didn't hear him. His attitude changed from appalled to amused so thoroughly that he forgot his grievances within seconds.
Eames clutched his sides, roaring with laughter.
"You mean to tell me," Eames gasped, recovering from his outburst, "that the mighty Arthur, the brain behind all our heists, has never learned the most basic game of wits? You weren't president of your primary school's team? Here I was, trying to figure out what type of player you were…"
"Eames, if you are quite done making incorrect assumptions about my past?" Arthur pressed, trying to extract himself from the situation. Ariadne had since left the room, deciding that this conversation was more for Arthur and Eames, making Arthur's attempt at changing the subject useless.
Eames just stared at him, a small smile playing at his lips.
"It's really not that big of a deal," Arthur reasoned. "So, I prefer to play games that are fun, not mentally taxing. It's not the end of the world." The smile on Eames' face just grew. "You know," he mused, "I could teach you."
"Mr. Eames." Arthur's face said it all, but he explained, "The day I let you teach me to play chess is the day I give you my fortune cookies."
"Ah, but you know you'd share if I asked," Eames teased.
Sighing heavily as his only response, Arthur turned to walked out. Before he retreated into the other room, he threw over his shoulder, "Thank you for the food. Now get back to work."