A/N: A Secret Saito gift for @sage-the-empress, whose prompt was “city.” At first I was running through all of the exotic cities in the world where Arthur and Eames might spend the holidays and then I thought…why not put them in the city I know best. So here is a bunch of Christmas fluff in Boston.
Arthur should flee, very, very far from Vermont, where the job has gone to hell. He needs distance from the people who want him dead.
But Arthur hasn’t slept in almost three full days—sleeping for the job doesn’t count—and Arthur makes it as far as Boston and loses all willpower to get himself to the airport, to get himself on a plane, to get himself somewhere else. Eames has a safe house in Boston, a ridiculously posh brownstone that’s all strange angles and falling-down plaster that Eames calls “charming” and refuses to fix, and Arthur manages to disable any of the security systems that make noise and stumbles into the house. He knows that Eames will know he’s there, as Arthur left the other security systems up and running, so he waves negligently to the cameras he knows are observing him, re-arms the noisy security systems to protect him while he sleeps, straggles into the bedroom, collapses onto the bed, and is immediately out.