After the Fischer inception, Eames goes back to work as an extractor, and Arthur joins his team. Due to circumstances involving a guy who may or may not be from Greenland, pop astrology, someone's broken limb, hormones, and convenience, they end up learning that love is what starts down below (and makes its way up your spine).

Political crisis managers AU. Arthur and Eames are operatives for rival presidential campaigns in a heated Democratic primary. Can they find love and happiness in spite of all the pies, Republicans, and publicity disasters in their way? Even in the face of the dreaded ELECTORAL COLLEGE SYSTEM? I DON'T KNOW! LET'S FIND OUT!

Still, the wisdom of leaving a family to a man named Dom Cobb was questionable. The phrase "Don Cobb" didn't exactly roll off the tongue, and "Don Dom" was even worse. "Don Dom Cobb". A travesty.

In deserts, wheat fields, and rose gardens, Eames finds Arthur and shakes off the remnants of war. AU, very vaguely based on The Little Prince.

During eight hours in the warehouse on an ill-advised bet, Arthur discovers that Eames is a man with no scruples.

Ten months after a savage split, Arthur climbs down to pull Eames out of limbo.

Eames can't help it. He's never seen Arthur die before.

Eames navigates the preconscious world straight into Arthur's pants.

In the immortal words of Freddie Mercury, Fucking on the subway, fucking on the subway, fucking on the subway on a job.

Arthur and Eames suck at phone sex.

Bang bang, we're beautiful and dirty rich.

It's a mutually beneficial business arrangement and mutually beneficial sex. Arthur can end it any old time he wants. Any time of day.

Nash is this, Nash is that, but it's far more likely that Nash is just something in between.

Eames doesn't deal in fractions.

Arthur and Eames sabotage each other's jobs-- until they can't anymore. Or: How Arthur and Eames Learned to Stop Worrying and Make Their Own Form of Social Capital.

Mal makes them tell stories. Mal makes them fumble for something to touch. Mal makes them fuck, but maybe that's not the important part.

"Forgive me, Father," he says, "for I have sinned."

"Of course you have," says Arthur, dry.

"Please tell me you're not going to keep him," says Ariadne.

"What do vampires eat?" asks Eames.

"You," says Ariadne. "And me. And pretty much everyone. You idiot."

Eames is a high-end thief. Arthur is a private investigator hired to catch him. Ridiculous events ensue; something like love happens somewhere along the way.