What Arthur hated the most was that he knew he was acting like the wronged woman in this whole situation and that went noways to helping his nerves. Eames was not his and Ariadne was not his and he...

Fuck.

Arthur slumped into an armchair specifically so that no one could next to him. He still, however, glared at Eames. "Adults. Good idea, Eames. Perhaps you'd like to take off the condom and join us?" It was a guess, but, Arthur was betting (considering Eames and how fast he'd gotten out the door), a good one.