A/N: This is a bit of a short one, I pretty much just wanted to get the flight out of the way. I've done that flight twice, and I wish I could have made my 17 hours go by in 350 words. Haha
Moving on, I don't own Inception, or Black & Gold by Sam Sparro
'cause if you're not really here
then the stars don't even matter
now I'm filled to the top with fear
that it's all just a bunch of matter
For some reason, whenever Eames was in Hong Kong, he forgot that the rest of the world's cities didn't exist in a tropical climate. Maybe this was his subconscious' way of shutting out the rest of the world, but for some reason, he never remembered to pack warm enough clothes to go anywhere farther north or south (depending on the time of year). So when he rushed to the airport wearing nothing but a suit & tie, he didn't give a second thought to the fact that it was February, and he was about to get on a flight to New York.
Unfortunately, he was brutally reminded of this fact, as soon as the plane cleared the gate. Looking around, he saw people pulling on coats, and scarves. Damn. Turing on his cell phone, he scrolled to Arthur's number and hit send. After a moment, his call was forwarded to voicemail. There was no personal outgoing message, or even a name, just a computerized sequence of numbers. The only reason Eames even knew he had the right number was because he had spent most of his time waiting at the airport in Hong Kong, just staring at the number, wondering if he should call.
As soon as the beep sounded, he left a brief message, "Hello Darling, I guess you've stepped out for the moment. I just wanted to let you know that the flight got in, but I'm in dire need of a coat, so I'm off to Bloomindales for a moment. Shouldn't be long really. I'll give you a call when I'm done, so I can find out where we'll be meeting this time. Ta"
Eames flipped the phone shut, and stared at it in a mild state of shock. He'd sounded so horrifyingly domesticated. As if this was his Arthur. We're not quite there yet... After a moment's thought, he considered calling back and leaving a different message, but what would be the point in that. So he simply brushed it off, gathered his few carry-on belongings, and made his way into the metropolis of New York City.