Arthur shook his head, feeling his irritation starting to rise toward them. "Anyone worth their shit wouldn't think that you're a deadbeat." Sure, after Mal died, Eames had gone off to Mombasa to hide away from the world but Arthur knew, fucking Cobb knew and many others in the business knew that Eames was exceptionally good at what he did and knew how to get the job done. But that didn't always count in places that Eames liked to spend his time -- especially after Mal.

Sure, the man liked to place bets and gamble but Arthur always figured that was part of what made Eames, Eames. "It was stupid to place bets with that type of man," he wasn't going to sugar coat that part no matter what they may be doing behind closed doors. "But they were idiots if they thought you, or we were going to take that laying down. You did what you had to do," he said, finally and looked at him. "I might have had to kick your ass if you had lead them to us." But he hadn't and that was the most important thing.

A part of Arthur said that Eames could have called him but until this job, they hadn't exactly been on speaking terms. He moved in closer to the forger and tightened his hand around Eames' very capable hand.