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Title: Sometimes one gift makes all the difference
Fandom: Inception
Pairing: Eames/Saito
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Five times Saito bought Eames a gift and one time it came from the heart. For the prompt at the kink_meme HERE
Warnings: None that I can think of.
Notes: Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] hungerpunch and mysterious anon for the beta, any mistakes you see are all mine.

---

One.

“What’s this?”

Saito looked up from his newspaper, reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “A gift, Mr. Eames.”

Eames let out a strangled noise, it was a cross between surprise and amusement. Saito raised an eyebrow, and placing the newspaper down, he folded into a square and placed next to his breakfast -- eggs and toast with a bowl of rice. “You do not like it?”

This snapped Eames out of whatever trance he had been in, a look of shock apparent in his eyes. “No, I’m just not used to getting...gifts really.”

Saito nodded once, picked up his newspaper, unfolded it, pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his noise and proceeded to read once more. “Well you did perform exceedingly well last night.”

“Right.”

Too busy reading about current events, Saito failed to notice the stiffness in Eames’ tone and merely nodded distractedly.

The next time he looked up, the tie, sleek blue satin, lay resting on the back of the chair across from him. Eames was nowhere in sight.
Two

It had been five months and Saito had heard nothing of Eames; it was if the man had just simply disappeared. This was not something Saito liked as he kept an eye on his assets and Eames was a very important one. He had yet to meet a forger with Eames’ abilities and not knowing where Eames was unsettled him. It wasn’t as if he was going to going Arthur where Eames was, that would be admitting that he couldn’t find him and his pride couldn't let him suffer such a defeat; it was unheard of.

This left Saito with one option -- to dial the number that Eames had left months ago and hope that he hadn’t destroyed the phone.

Apparently fate didn’t like him, as the robotic female message informed him that the number he was trying to reach was unavailable. He ended up throwing his phone across his room in a fit of rage.

Which seemed like a foolish thing to do, now that he had no way of contacting anyone worth contacting without resorting to his company line. Rubbing his fingers through his hair he wondered where Eames could have gone. It was a small world, there couldn’t be many places that he could hide. Letting out a sigh of frustration he drummed his fingers on his redwood office desk before dialing his secretary's number, and ordered her to cancel all his meetings as he was going to have the day off.

What Saito didn’t expect was for Eames to come, unannounced, into his office the next day with that insufferable smirk on his face.

“Mr Eames.” Saito gave him a curt nod, opening his desk drawer and drawing out an item, carefully hiding it from Eames’ view. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

Apparently he wasn’t being as discrete as he would have liked.

“Your sources are correct. That, however, does not tell me what you are doing in my office at five am.”

“One of the many world’s mysteries, I suppose.”

Saito made a noise at the back of this throat. “Perhaps.”

Eames was now leaning against the edge of his desk, trying to catch a look at what Saito had pulled out of his drawer, though trying to make it seem as though he was trying to look at Saito’s business plans (for the next month)

Saito placed the mystery object on the desk and watched as Eames’ eyebrows rose in surprise. “Is that a collar? With a bell?”

“Yes, it’s for you.”

There was thirty seconds of silence in which Saito readjusted his cufflins, watching Eames out of the corner of his eye.

“For me?”

“So I know where you are at all times.”

“Some might call that possessive. Possibly obsessive. Most likely both.”

Saito raised an eyebrow, brushing invisible lint off his suit, “I like keeping tabs on my assets.”

Eames straightened, taking the collar, bell jiggling as it moved, between his forefinger and thumb, twirling it slightly as he gained a better grasp on it. An unreadable look crossed his face. “Right.”

He then left as quick has he had come.

Saito too busy reading his business plans to take notice, taking the jingles as sign of Eames amusing himself with it, and seconds later when he looked up he ignored the pang of disappointment and continued working well into the morning.

Three.

It was Valentines Day when Saito saw Eames again and though he wasn’t wearing the collar like Saito expected him to, the sight of him was enough to ignore that tiny detail. Eames smiled as he entered the cafe, that Saito had the ownership of for this very purpose, and greeted Saito with a crooked smile.

“You’re looking for me again. Any particular reason?”

Saito looked Eames once over, appreciating the way the suit hugged at his body, and he curved his lower lip slightly. “Today is Valentines Day is it not?”

“Well depending on where you are, yes it is Valentines Day.”

Saito placed a thin box, red with white ribbon tied across the middle, in front of Eames, whose lips curved for three seconds before disappearing into a thin line. “Is it not customary to give chocolates to important people on this day?”

Eames sat down, sliding into his seat, picking up the box and inspecting the wrapping. “Yes, I suppose that would be correct.” He undid the ribbon carefully, and gently peeled the wrapping back, opening the box and finding a row of dark chocolates sitting neatly within.

Saito watched as Eames picked up one of the chocolates and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, as though he was judging a platter of fine desserts.

“Ms. Rivers assured me that these were best in the country.”

Eames’ chewing stilled for a second before continuing. Saito waited patiently for him to finish. Once Eames had finished, he smiled, hand cupping the bottom of his chin. “She was quite right.”

Saito nodded curtly, pleased with himself. “I will pass along your praise.” He stood, brushing invisible lint from his suit (he stood, surveying the few couples that sat huddled together in other parts of the cafe, before standing and, offering his hand for Eames to shake. Eames took it, grip firm, “It has been a pleasure meeting with you Mr. Eames but I have business to attend to. Till next time.”

Unclasping Eames’ hand, he left, barely catching the whispered “Till next time.”

Four.

The next time Saito meets Eames is when he needs him for an extraction, a simple two level job, figuring out whether Saito has any spies within his company. The job goes smoothly, it had his Inception team, minus Cobb, so of course it went smoothly and they had all gone out for celebration drinks. Saito was paying, he didn’t mind, the job had been done to his expectations, and he had plenty of money. After four rounds of every drink imaginable Ariadne, Arthur and Yusuf (Yusuf being the designated driver - having an early flight in the morning, back to his dream dens) had left, leaving Saito to deal with, what he assumed, was a very drunk Eames. This Eames was cuddly, Saito didn’t think it suited Eames, Saito believed Eames to be someone of character and redeemable characteristics, being cuddly was not one of them, but no matter how many times Saito pushed, Eames just continued to come back, more cuddly than ever.

“Mr Eames cease what you are doing.”

Eames looked up at Saito, blinking as though he was trying to gain focus of his surroundings, thick arms wrapped around Saito’s waist, a smile spread across his face. “Saito, how ‘bout you and I go back to the hotel room, which, I might add, you have most probably brought out, and do something fun” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively, yet failing to look as seductive as he would have liked, Saito looks at Eames with a careful air. He nods and Eames stumbles his way into an upright position, arms still around Saito’s waist.

They do make it to the hotel that Saito owns, but they do not have any ‘fun’ as Eames had called it, instead they sleep, Eames clinging to Saito’s waist and Saito admitting defeat just the once.

--

“Good morning, Mr Eames, I trust you had a pleasant sleep.”

Eames grunted a response, fingers running through his hair, a yawn escaping, covered by the back of his hand. “It was pleasant enough.”

“I’ll tell the hotel staff to replace the bedding with something more comfortable.”

Eames shook his head, a look of fondness flashed through his features for a few seconds. Saito doesn’t catch it, busying reading the local newspaper, reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“I hear Turtle Island is nice this time of year.”

Saito turned a page, read a line, and looked up at Eames. “Yes, I am aware. That is why I bought it for you.”

There is silence.

“What?”

“I brought Turtle Island. You mentioned wanting to go there once the job was done so I bought it and now you can do whatever you please with it.”

More silence.

“Thank...you?”

Saito finished reading the newspaper, nodding at Eames thanks, before standing and gathering his briefcase. “I have business to attend to Mr Eames, I hope you enjoy your stay in Fiji, I will see you in due time I imagine.”

Then he was gone. Missing Eames poorly masked look of disappointment.

Five

The next time Saito sees Eames, Eames doesn’t even acknowledge him. Arthur reassured him that there has been no deaths or overly tragic events in Eames’ life so Saito is left wondering why Eames would be ignoring him. At that it only seemed like Eames was just ignoring him. He couldn’t think of what he might have done, thinking of nothing he set out to make amends.

It had taken Saito a week to get Eames to even look at him but it had been worth it, as the next day he got Eames in a corner.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

Eames raised an eyebrow, expression unreadable, shook his head and tried to pass Saito, except Saito wasn’t having any of it. “We are having this conversation Mr Eames.”

This seemed to spark a reaction out of Eames, as Saito spotted a flash of annoyance before it had disappeared behind emotionless eyes. “There is nothing really to be said.”

Saito grasped Eames’ arm. “Has something happened to make you upset? I will deal with anyone bothering you. Just tell me.”

Eames scoffed and pulled away, making his way out of the warehouse. Saito is left behind, feeling at a lost of what to do.

--

Saito managed to catch Eames again a week later. “Here.”

Eames looked at the papers that Saito had placed into his hands. “What exactly are these?”

“Legal documentation making you the sole owner of Hamelys.”

Eames just stared at Saito for several minutes then he exploded in a fit of rage.

“Just stop. Just stop with the bloody gifts already. I am sick and tired of it. I don’t want ties. I don’t want collars. I don’t want chocolates. I don’t a bloody island. And I most certainly don’t want Hamelys!”

Saito frowned, ready to interrupt, except Eames didn’t seem to want to stop.

“How can you be so stupid!”

With that said Eames threw the papers at Saito and stormed out of the warehouse, the door closing with a loud bang, papers scattered around Saito’s feet and Saito left wondering where he had gone wrong.

+one

Saito doesn’t see or hear from Eames until New Yeaars Eve. This has left Saito a lot of time to think of what Eames could have been saying. Ariande and Arthur had been a lot of help as well and he had left a wealthy sum of money as a sign of his appreaciation.

Eames is leaning against the barrier of the balcony, holding a glass of wine, looking absolutely divine in a three piece suit, tie included. Saito swallows down his nerves and approaches Eames.

“Hello Mr Eames.”

Eames regards him with a mixture of interest and disinterest, it is rather conflicting but boosts up Saito’s confidence all the same. There is music playing in the background, and Saito straightens, taking another step towards Eames.

“I have taken a lot of thought into what you said to me last and I have come to the conclusion that I was wrong in my intentions.”

“Oh?” Eames’ tone is light yet Saito can hear the mockery behind it.

“Yes. I believe I have led you to believe that I do not care about you and merely think of you as a possession.” Saito takes a breath. “Well I am saying that I do care about you. I care about your well-being, I care about you enough to want to do things couples do, and I care enough to feel guilty when I cannot be there to help share the gifts that I give you.”

Saito is looking straight into Eames’ eyes at the end of his speech, close enough to leave little space but far enough to leave space for Saito to hand Eames a red rose.

Eames takes the rose, twirling it between his fingers, and still keeping eye contact with Saito, who steps closer, a smile on his lips.

“I love you.”

Eames’ smile and the kiss that follows says what words cannot express.
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