Dream A Little Bigger, Darling

When the plane had landed and the passengers were told they could move, DeLaney nearly ran out of the plane, leaving Mr. Eames behind.
"Not a fan of plane rides, are we, darling?" he teased when he found her waiting for him in the airport terminal. Throughout the entirety of the eight hour flight, DeLaney was a nervous wreck. Every time the plane hit a little bit of turbulence, she would panic and her hand would fly involuntarily to Mr. Eames' hand or leg, whichever happened to be in her line of fire. It had woken him from a nap at one point, and he didn't bother going back to sleep after that because he knew it would only happen again. DeLaney shot a quick glare at him before the pair went to find their luggage.
After a rather tedious venture through the airport, Mr. Eames and DeLaney finally made it outside. Mr. Eames led her over to a car parked against the curb, a well dressed, clean cut man leaning against it. He pushed himself off of the car when he spotted the pair.
"DeLaney, this is Arthur. Arthur, this is DeLaney Ferris," Eames introduced, setting his bag on the floor, DeLaney mimicking the action to shake Arthur's hand.
"It's nice to meet you Miss Ferris," Arthur said with a charming smile. She returned the smile with one of her own.
"You too, Arthur," she said. They got their cases in the trunk of the car and were on their way to the hotel Eames had made reservations at before their flight.
"I have some business to take care of right now, we'll have to meet tomorrow. Same place as before, Eames," Arthur informed before Mr. Eames and DeLaney could get out.
"Treat her well, Arthur," Eames said with a knowing smirk touching his lips as he exited the car. Arthur shot him a glare but said nothing as he popped open the trunk.
The hotel room was on the third floor, and DeLaney immediately discarded her bag carelessly on the floor, running to the glass door on the other side of the room.
"This is a hotel, why does it have a balcony?" she exclaimed, throwing a door open and rushing to the railing.
"This is Paris, darling, what did you expect?" he said. She spun toward him then, her hazel eyes dancing with a child's excitement, eyebrows raised slightly. He had to admit, she looked quite pretty in that moment, with the sun brightening her long, light brown hair, and making her porcelain skin glow.
"Can we go?" she asked, a pleading tone in her voice. Eames rose a brow.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked.
"Just out there. Everywhere. It's Paris, Eames, everyone wants to see Paris," she exclaimed in a matter of fact tone, going back inside and shutting the door behind her, the expectant gaze never faltering. Mr. Eames gave a small sigh. All he really wanted to do was take a nap after waking up so god awfully early, just to spend a good amount of energy on the whole flight process. It was always astonishing to Mr. Eames how exhausting it could be.
"Fine. But we're coming back early. How you aren't tired is beyond me," he found himself regretfully agreeing to her request, turning back toward the hotel door to the sound of her excited squeak. The two of them traveled the streets of Paris by foot, Eames taking her to some of the more notable parts of the area. He did his fair share of leading and following, dragging himself along through his exhaustion as she would enthusiastically bound toward some place or thing that struck her fancy. She wanted to try this food or that, and of course, Eames paid for her. Twice they were mistaken as a couple by the people serving them, to which the tired and mildly irritated Mr. Eames would ignore it and DeLaney would smile kindly and correct the innocently ignorant server. Despite his request to get back to the hotel early, they didn't arrive until the sun was down and the Parisian streets were lit by street lamps and car lights. DeLaney stopped in the lobby, gesturing Eames to keep walking at his confused glance.
DeLaney returned to the room to find Mr. Eames lying on his bed with his eyes closed and his hands folded neatly over his stomach. "Don't fall asleep just yet, Mr. Eames, there's one last thing you have to do," she said in a sing song voice.
"And that would be?" he questioned without opening his eyes.
"Have a glass of wine with me, then you can sleep," she said.
"Wine can wait," he muttered, earning a scoff. Not a moment later she had scrambled up onto his bed and started hopping beside him. He opened his gray eyes and shot a glare up at her.
"Come on, just one glass. It's a good kind, too. They gave me the cups and everything, don't be an asshole," she said as she hopped.
"Fine," he agreed in an irritated tone, pulling himself up. Despite his irritation with her stubbornness he had to commend her on her choice of wine. "Why did you buy this?" he asked after a sip. She shifted in her cross legged position and shrugged.
"I wanted it. And it seemed like a nice thing to do for you since you ran around with me," she said casually.
"So, as gratitude, you keep me up even longer just to have the wine you bought as thanks?" he said, sparing a small smirk.
"You know, you could just say thank you instead of being a dick," she said, raising a brow and sparing her own smirk.
"Thank you," he said with a sarcastic tone to his coarse voice. She rolled her eyes and finished the rest of her glass, taking his empty glass from him and slipping off of his bed.
"Goodnight, Mr. Eames."

The taxi pulled up outside of an unassuming building and DeLaney followed him through the doors and up a flight of stairs. It was a large space, too large for the office setup inside. A few lawn chairs were spread out, a portable white board discarded to the side, along with a bulletin board. There was an office desk set up near the rest of the mess, and several other chairs strewn about. Sitting at the desk was Arthur, who looked up when he heard the pair enter. Eames took a seat in one of the stray chairs, slouching lazily as he always did, DeLaney taking a seat in one of the others.
"Good afternoon, DeLaney, Eames," Arthur said, standing up. "DeLaney, if you wouldn't mind, could you tell me what it is you want here?" he started, skipping straight to business.
"I want to be a part of this business. I've done my research, I've learned everything I need to know. And I want Mr. Eames to train me, because he's the only one that could approach it right," she said, crossing her legs.
"So you want to be a Forger?" Arthur asked. She shook her head.
"No, I'm no Forger, I just want Eames to train me in the dream world. From what I've learned about him, his mind works on a plane I can understand better than someone else," she explained.
"What do you want to be in this business, then?" Arthur asked.
"An Extractor," she said simply. Both Arthur and Mr. Eames rose their brows in surprise.
"DeLaney, if you want to be an Extractor, you'll have to get an Extractor to train you. Neither me, nor Arthur can train you to do that," Eames said, surprise evident in his voice.
"I don't need an Extractor to teach me anything, Eames. I get information, that's what I do, that's what I've always done. It's what I'm good at. And besides, the best Extractor in the business doesn't even do this anymore, and I'm not settling for anything less," she said, shooting Eames a sharp look. Arthur said nothing for a moment.
"How exactly did you find Mr. Eames?" he finally asked, thoughtfulness in his voice.
"I got the information. I know people in this business, believe it or not. I used what information they could give me, and I built off of that, and it lead me to Mombasa. Extractors get information. That's what they do, and that's what I'm best at," she explained. "I'm not crazy for wanting this, you know. I just know this is something I can do well," she added. Neither man made any move to talk, but she watched both of them. Arthur looked like he was deep in thought, and Eames was watching Arthur with a frustrated stare. Arthur then turned his eyes to Mr. Eames.
"Mr. Eames, can I talk to you for a minute?" Arthur asked suddenly, turning toward the other man. Mr. Eames rose out of his seat and followed the Point Man aside.
"Eames, if she was able to find you, I don't see why she shouldn't be trained," Arthur said in a hushed voice.
"You remember what I said about not being able to train the girl even if I wanted to, yes? I'm a Forger, Arthur, I can't train someone to be an Extractor. That's above me," Eames said, his hands rising to rest on his hips as his head dipped lower.
"I'll take care of that part. You just need to show her through the dream world, I'll set up some tests for her over time. You get her used to it, I'll get her working and building up her skills," Arthur explained. Eames opened his mouth to argue further, but realized he wasn't going to win the battle, and dropped his shoulders before turning around and walking back up to DeLaney.
"It seems as if you'll be getting your training after all, darling," he said, his irritation obvious in his voice. DeLaney smiled and turned her gaze to Arthur.
"My God, Arthur, you must have quite a way with words," the girl said in faux surprise, earning a grin from the man.
"Alright, let's get started then," Arthur said.