[ Arthur lets out a laugh at the retort– a real one, not the usual breathed out amusement. It lights up his face, mouth curved up happily, dimples showing in full. He usually keeps himself restrained in this sense, knows how his happiness can be misconstrued.

Knows, on some level, how devastating it can be when wielded in specific situations.

Normally, Cobb dealt with the fast talking and charming, but occasionally he'd stepped in, flashing an easy smile and watching as defenses lowered in shock.

Some part of him worries about showing too much in front of Eames. Another part says fuck it. They've known each other too long at this point. And if he somehow charms him with this side, he'll deal with the fallout. ]

Please, I'm not that bad. I'd be directing from the couch, it's much more comfortable. [ He wouldn't, but that's part of the joke, something he loops in with that same honest smile directed towards the forger. ]

There's something satisfying about doing all the work. I can just turn my brain off. [ In a way, it resembles those times where he's stuck compiling reams of information for jobs. But with the added bonus of working with his hands. Tactile in a way his normal work isn't.

After a bit of hesitance (internal, simple silence on the outside), he glances at Eames, gaze steady despite his nerves. ] Come by sometime, I'll give you the tour.