This is in response to @hiomiw noticing Arthur’s suspenders and the bout of suit lust @chasingriversong, @my-citrus-pocket and many others indulged in thereafter. I got to thinking …
Arthur saw Eames’s eyes widen that time he got a bit more sartorially carried away than usual in a dream. He filed the realization away to use another time.
Because Arthur loves to dress up, and if dreams give him an extra opportunity without the actual hassle of shopping, so much the better. They all do it. He didn’t see it, but Ariadne told him all about that winter warfare get-up Eames used three levels down on the Fischer job. He wonders, in idle moments, when he might get a chance to see that outfit for himself. Hell, who is he kidding? He’s thought about that A LOT.
So yes, when he noticed Eames noticing, he thought about a time in their real topside lives when he could do that again. He planned. He shopped. In fact, he more than shopped, he went to Savile Row when they were in London on that tedious job. He actively canvassed for jobs that might give them opportunities for the right kind of research.
The Vienna job is perfect. Low risk, high reward. Surveillance required.
Arthur packs carefully for Vienna. He just shrugs when Eames raises his eyebrows at the extra suit bags.
“It’s the Opera Ball, Eames,” he tells him. “Very formal."
On the night, he showers first. Steers Eames into the bathroom so he can dress undisturbed. He has to time it just right, which requires a degree of hovering and listening.
Eames steps out of the bathroom. And stops.
Arthur has his back to the door but he can see him in the wardrobe mirror. There’s a look of shocked delight on his face.
"Bloody hell, Arthur, give a man some warning!” he says.
Arthur turns, pulling his dangling white suspenders onto his shoulders.
“What was that, Mr Eames?”
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