Possibly, I'm Insane

Eames is a showoff when he skis. Arthur can ski, but Arthur skis like a normal person.

“Eames is such a good skier,” Lucky says, starry-eyed.

“Once I saved Arthur’s life with my incredible skiing.” Eames tells the whole story enthusiastically. Arthur suspects it has many embellishments, as always.

Lucky says, “Oh, wow. Eames must be the best skier.”

The next day, Eames spends the day on the bunny slope with Lucky, guiding her down carefully, holding her hand, picking her up and dusting the snow off of her when she falls, and Arthur agrees: Eames is the best skier.

A line of poker chips shows up on the floor of the living room one day. Arthur cleans it up.

Lucky is alarmed. “But where are the poker chips?”

“I put them away,” Arthur says blankly. “Why? Did you want them?”

“Yes. I’m counting blessings!” Lucky retrieves the poker chips from the drawer. “See? One for you, one for me, one for the cat, one for malasadas, yum. One for my purple tie you got me. One for that glitter bath bomb. So many blessings.”

Arthur sits with her and honestly, within the hour they’ve run out of poker chips.

Arthur had been typically pragmatic in his teenage parenting approach. “We cannot expect her to tell us everything, Eames. Who tells everyone everything? Everyone has secrets. We cannot condemn her for keeping secrets sometimes.”

Eames agreed, because he had despised hypocrisy in his parents and had vowed never to be that kind of father (when being a father at all became a possibility).

Then Lucky met The Boy, and Arthur hired a world-class assassin to follow him. “Don’t hurt him. Just tell us what you think.”

Eames didn’t even think this was overkill. He thought this was merely more pragmatism.

Requested by MaryJane221b (and girls)

“I just helped Lucky write a letter to Santa,” said Eames.

“And?” prompted Arthur.

“‘Dear Santa,’” Eames read aloud dramatically, “‘last year you didn’t bring me a leopard so this year I’m requesting a penguin, that should be easier for you, since you’re in the North Pole.’”

“She does make a logical point.”

“Hang on, I’m not done,” Eames said, and continued reading, “’Also, penguins remind me of my dad Arthur because they’re always so well-dressed.’ Got to say, she’s not wrong, and she’s very sweet.”

“It is sweet,” Arthur agreed, touched, and then, “I remind you of a penguin?”