madsmurf93: (gambling paradoxes)
[personal profile] madsmurf93
Word Count: 2690 WORK IN PROGRESS
Summary: Eames hated California, Los Angeles with a fury. If he had his way he would be in the first plane back to London, Brighton. Sadly he didn't and he was stuck in LA of all places for six long months. Though he supposed the company wasn't that bad he had his best mate Yusuf and gal pal Ariadne and then there was Arthur, cool and collected Arthur. Then there were the mysterious letters that kept on showing up in his locker, backpack and letterbox. His secret admirer was a mystery. A mystery that Yusuf and Ariadne were going to help him solve.


The first thing he noticed when he landed in Los Angeles, California was that it was not raining. Instead, with a stab of homesickness, he noticed that it was sunny and far too bright. He was barely two minutes in and he already hated the country. Already missing the seaside and the rich smell of rain and this made his stomach clench uncomfortably. With a heavy frown, he hunched his shoulders and made his way to the international terminal, handing over his passport when it was required and going through the metal detectors before reaching the larger part of the terminal where people waited with signs looking for that one particular person. He of course was looking for someone that had that sign with his name and hoping he could avoid him or her. Slinking past those around him, he kept an eye out for that one sign with his name on it; he made his way to the luggage reel. He had managed to snag his duffel bag and two suitcases when the moment he had been dreading happened.



Cringing he turned before the person could repeat themselves. He had to crane his neck up just a little to see Joe Jacobs, his father's best mate and the man that would be putting up with him for the next six months.

"Guess you caught me."

"Guess so, now how 'bout you and I head over to the car. Don't want you escaping just yet."

"Whatever you say, but just so you know I was pretty damn close."

"That you were, that you were. Now come on, you can tell me in the car how you got so sneaky."


He never did tell Joe how he became so sneaky, that was for no one to know but himself. His business. Instead, they had ridden in a cold silence. However, it was not that Joe did not try to start conversation; he just was not in the mood. He did not even want to be in America so far away from his comfortable cottage near the seaside in Brighton, London. The cold silence had extended into the two-storey house that screamed culture, history and lots of money. Eames refused to talk to anyone, not even the ragdoll kitten who stared up at him with its big blue eyes while he sulked in his new room.

The room itself was plain, it had a simple bed the only exciting thing about it was that it was a bunk bed, and a set of drawers were placed beside it on the left side. These two furniture pieces faced the large screen door, which led out onto a balcony. The rest of the space was bare; there wasn’t even a desk though there were two sets of power outlets on either side of the room and one near the bunk bed.

Letting out a disgruntled huff he threw his bags out into the middle of the room and flopped onto the bottom bunk glaring up at the wooden planks that held up the other bed. He hated it here. He hated how he had gotten caught before he could escape and be on the next plane back to London and he hated how his dad thought this would be a good opportunity for him. Stupid America. Stupid Dad. Stupid everything.

Turning onto his side, he curled up and glared at the wall instead.


“…Eames? Come…Wake up…Eames”

Swatting away the shaking hand Eames blinked bearily up at the tormenter and with a jolt to his stomach realised where he was. So it hadn’t been a dream. Drat. Glaring he shielded away from Joe and his annoying hands.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that. I’m sure you’re hungry after that long flight.”

“Piss off.”

The words had left his mouth before he could even think about not saying them and the silence that followed stretched uncomfortably. It was moments like this when Eames was reminded of a ticking time-bomb. Tick. Tick. Cue explosion.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t talk to your dad like that.”

“You’re right but you’re not my dad so I’ll talk to you any way I damn please.”

There it was again; words escaping him before he could stop them and somehow each time it happened it gave him a thrill like the one he had never had before. However, he could do without the stretching silences.

“Look I know you’re upset about –”

He was sitting upright in mere seconds, anger flashing across his features. “Don’t. Don’t even try to understand how I’m feeling. You would never understand. Never.”

His words came out rushed and hissed and Joe just looked so calm about it all. This spiked more anger through him and for a split second, he had a strong urge to wipe that calm look off Joe’s face.

“Okay. I won’t press but you and I need to set some ground rules okay?”

Eames bit back his scathing retort, something along the lines of telling Joe to shove off and leave him alone, but nodded in understanding.

“First, I am still the adult and you are still the adolescent so all I ask is a little respect, and second please just give this a chance yeah?”

Joe smiled weakly, rubbing the back of his neck looking utterly uncomfortable. However, that might have been because of his lack of expertise in disciplining someone else’s kid. Staring at his feet, Eames thought over the words spoken and Joe’s current expression before sighing and attempting a weak smile – he could at least try…for his dad’s sake. He was sure his old man didn’t want phone calls at odd stretches of time. Those time zones could be troublesome.

“Okay, I’ll be good.”

Joe laughed and patted him on the head, ruffling his hair just a tad.

“That’s a good man.”


It had already been a week and he was still missing home. Mind, he hadn’t actually left Joe’s home. No he had stayed in his plain room waiting for the day that he would be enrolled in Wuthering High for a glorious six months.

Today was that day.

Pulling his backpack onto his shoulders more securely he snatched up the keys to the lovely Suzuki GSX-R that he had the pleasure of owing, even if it was only for six months. He had been surprised when Joe had presented it to him, as a welcome to LA gift. He had been touched by the act of kindness and had thanked the man repeatedly for the past week. Even if the gift had given Joe grief with his own son – not that Matt could complain, the arse had every electronic device on the planet and had seen films that hadn’t even came out in London yet. If anything, he figured that Matt was more spoilt than anything. Twit.

Popping his head around and into the kitchen, he shot Joe a shit-eating grin who merely laughed.

“Wish me luck!”

“I hardly think you need luck.”

“It’s the general principle.”

“Well then, I wish you luck. Do try and keep from charming all the ladies”

“Can’t make any promises.”

With that, he was out the door and soon speeding off down the driveway towards Wuthering High, all the while remembering that he had to keep to the opposite side of the road to avoid a crash or sudden death. Whichever came first.


To say the day had passed pleasantly would have been an understatement, a grave understatement. It had not gone pleasantly it had gone splendidly. Oh yes, it had gone extremely well and if anything it was probably one of the best days of his life. Up there with first day of Kindergarten.

Seriously, though the entire day was a disaster. If one more person asked if he was British after he spoke, he was going to strangle them. Sure, he liked a little chaos but seriously! Didn’t anyone know that you could go to class without a bell? It was perfectly acceptable and far less irritating. To think he would have to suffer another six months of it. On the plus side he did have his motorcycle and he had had Art and Drama which would have been a mega plus if he hadn’t suffered through idiocy. At least Art could be a solo thing but if he had to group up with the same twits next Drama class he was going to strangle someone. Most definitely.

Bloody American teenagers. Rude, obnoxious arseholes the lot of them.

Sure, he was rude and obnoxious but at least he did it with class and style. Something everyone seemed to be lacking in, if he wasn’t mistaken – which he wasn’t.

Instead of going straight back to Joe’s after the disastrous first day he decided to finally explore the sunny beaches and whatnot that made LA. He hadn’t gotten far before finding a small café that sold tea. By damn, he was going to have a good cuppa after the day he had had. Parking his bike he entered the small café and inhaled the rich smells of freshly brewed coffee and tea. It was heavenly. With a sigh of contentment, he made his way towards the counter. The girl behind the counter was sweet looking; long dark brown hair reaching just above her waist with warm brown eyes to match. She smiled as he approached.

“What can I get you?”

He gave the menu above her head a quick once over, smiling charmingly all the while – because that’s what he did, he was that smooth.

“A large English Breakfast Tea if you could.”

She let out a small laugh.

“Missing your homeland I take it? And that’s three-fifty.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement. Handing over the money, thankful he had remembered to exchange currencies.

“That obvious?”

She smiled then went to work on his tea. Hopefully it would not taste horrible, he would be crushed. Joe could not make a proper cuppa if his life depended on it and he did not own the proper ingredients in order for Eames to make own himself so his life hood all depended on wether this girl could make a proper cuppa. With high hopes, he found a seat in the back corner and waited, twiddling his thumbs as he did so. After a minute of twiddling his thumbs, the girl came forth with his steaming cup of tea.

“Here you go”

He wasn’t going to thank her just yet, taking a sip he surveyed the taste on his tongue before swallowing. It wasn’t quite right but it was the best yet so he smiled up at the girl.

“Not like my mum’s but it will have to do – best cuppa in LA so far.”

She laughed, quickly glancing at the counter before sliding into the seat across from him.

“So you’re the new kid that the whole school’s talking about.”

He hummed, taking slow deliberate sips of his tea, watching this girl that seemed harmless. Seemed being the main word.

“Well I reckon they don’t give your looks justice or your accent or you know you in general. I’m Ariadne by the way. Pleased to meet you.”

She stuck out her hand and he surveyed it, placing his tea down he grasped her offered hand with a smile.


“Eames? That’s your last name isn’t?”

“That be right, you’re a smart cookie Ariadne.”

“So how are you liking LA so far?”

“Hate it.”

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Sure, the place isn’t bad, the people on the other hand…”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right people.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

Ariadne’s eyes lit up and it made her look even more magnificent. “I know! You can come to Arthur’s party tonight!”

He raised an eyebrow, an amused smile on his lips. “Who might be Arthur? And what makes you so sure this Arthur person won’t kick my arse to the curb as soon as I step inside this party of his.”

The smile that she gave him in reply made him promise himself that he would never cross this girl. “Oh he won’t do anything but act pleasant.”

“Whatever you say my dear.”


Whoever the Arthur bloke was he was stinking rich, though he supposed most of the people around this area were. Damn his middle class upbringing. Whistling at the vastness of the mansion that was Arthur’s house he shot a glance at Ariadne who seemed completely at ease, and elegant in the jeans and shirt vest ensemble with a red scarf to complete the walk of confidence and walked up the driveway with confidence that made him assume this party deal was a regular occurrence. Pulling at the sleeve of his worn pale pink-buttoned up shirt that barely covered his tattoos; he wondered for the millionth time that night what he was getting himself into and if he was going to regret it.

Once inside, Ariadne led him away from all the main rooms (which were just as elegantly decorated, as the front whatever they called it because it was most definitely not a yard) and down to the lower level and down another. Damn how big was this house? Practically huge because it was another level down before they reached the basement. When Ariadne opened the door to said basement he couldn’t help but notice for a party it was pretty small, having only roughly six people sitting in the room, now eight if he included himself and Ariadne.

“Guys this is Eames, Eames this is the Dream Team.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Dream Team?”

She nodded distractly, testing out a blue beanbag. “Yeah, it’s the name we gave our group back in middle school.” Deeming the beanbag fit she plopped herself down with a grin. “Well don’t just stand there make yourself comfortable – no one’s going to bit, though I reckon Arthur might if you ask nicely.” She winked at the boy that was glaring in her general direction.


“Oh lighten up Arthur, just trying to make him comfortable.”

He looked at Arthur curiously, the guy had nice hair and seemed to take care of it if the way it fell just right in a sort of windswept way but neat at the same time. He quite liked it and those brown eyes just seemed to gaze into your soul which were now staring in his general direction. He grinned.

“Don’t worry darling I won’t be asking any time soon.” With a wink Eames gave the room a once over before selecting one of the more comfortable looking lounge chairs. Slumping into so that his long lanky legs dangled over the armrest, he surveyed the group. Who all seemed to be looking at him with general curiosity. It was a slightly chubby boy with wiry curly hair that interrupted the silence.

“Well I’m Yusuf, the two lovebirds over there in the loveseat are Dom and Mal – please don’t ask how they met because we’ve all heard it before – and the two guys over there are Robert and Satio, sons of competing firms not that they care much.” Robert and Satio sent glares Yusuf’s way who smiled sheepishly. “Well okay, they compete at everything, I think the score is a tie at the current moment but we’ve run out of things for them to do and well you’ve met Ari and been introduced to Arthur already so yeah that’s everyone.” Yusuf nodded as though finishing a scientific report, which caused Eames to laugh, showing all his teeth.

“You and I Yusuf are going to best mates understand?”

Yusuf blinked. “What?”

“Best Mates, you and I. ‘Cause I like you and I think we’d be good best mates.”

Ariande laughed at the look of absolute glee on Yusuf’s face – apparently, if he was correct, the others had already been paired off as best mates and even better mates if Mal and Dom were anything to go by. He gave Yusuf a thumbs up who quickly returned it. Yup.

They were going to be best mates.


madsmurf93: (Default)

December 2011

4567 8910
111213 14151617
181920 21222324

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 20th, 2017 01:03 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios