Date: 2018-05-19 04:41 am (UTC)
withimagination: (well)
From: [personal profile] withimagination
[The woman glances over at him with a smile, though it doesn't have the edge of leering that Eames' had to it.]

Seems that way tonight. Unless you'd like to join me.

[She's stunning, but some of Eames' projections just are. Her lips are red, lashes long. She's a conglomeration of his secondary school English teacher, a girl he'd met in Prague, and a model that he'd forged once. Her legs are long and displayed well with her short, black dress. She looks coy, like she's waiting for him to buy her a drink, the one in her hand empty. She's just obvious enough to make Arthur question her, but not enough to make it obvious, and she's cool as Eames is hot under the collar.]

Date: 2018-05-29 04:16 am (UTC)
withimagination: (don't be silly saito)
From: [personal profile] withimagination
Sex on the beach, [Eames manages to say without grinning like a two year-old, and the bartender nods and pauses for Arthur's drink order. The woman's carefully crafted, to be attractive and someone to be attracted to, a pleasant surprise for a mark to come across perhaps. Eames knows Arthur has him already (which is impressive on its own) but he's still proud of the forge.]

Date: 2018-05-29 05:00 am (UTC)
withimagination: (freddie)
From: [personal profile] withimagination
[The woman smiles, glancing over at him, and then, like a snake shedding its skin, with a shudder, like a wink, Eames returns to his natural form, clothes somehow crisper and more attractive within the dream.

Eames grins, his legs crossed neatly.
] Knew you had me. I'm impressed as well. Takes men twice your senior twice as long to sniff me out most of the time.

[He plays with the straw in his drink, smiling genuinely, happy to have found a clever coworker.] What tipped you off?

Date: 2018-05-29 05:33 am (UTC)
withimagination: (poker chip)
From: [personal profile] withimagination
[Eames smirks.] Thanks. Fucked a gorgeous woman with freckles on her chest once. Always wanted to forge some.

[It's bait, him watching him to see how he'll react to the conversation having turned to this. Making it personal. And sexual. He watches him carefully with an even face, taking a sip of his drink.]

Date: 2018-05-29 05:51 am (UTC)
withimagination: (vultures are circling)
From: [personal profile] withimagination
[Arthur can probably tell that it pisses Eames off that he doesn't rise to it. He bristles, but remains calm.]

Yeah, of course I can.

Date: 2018-05-29 06:23 am (UTC)
withimagination: (looking through wallet)
From: [personal profile] withimagination
[Eames huffs when he's gone. Well that backfired spectacularly. He dreams up a gun himself, and he blinks awake in an armchair. He hesitates, then takes the IV from his wrist.]

I shouldn't have said that. Down there.

[He can admit that much. 'Sorry,' is a million times harder, though.]

Date: 2018-05-29 06:41 am (UTC)
withimagination: (follow)
From: [personal profile] withimagination
[Eames raises his brows, looking amused.] It's probably not going away, darling, but I can tone it down.

[There's actually a lot more bitter disappointment that he's going to have to than he expected. It doesn't help that Arthur's exactly his type. God.]

I guess I should ask you the same thing, in that case.

Date: 2018-05-29 07:28 am (UTC)
withimagination: (confrontation)
From: [personal profile] withimagination
[He shrugs.]

I can multitask.

[Something flits over his face then, though, something more sincere and less... all of that before stuff. He's impressed Arthur's putting aside their differences.]

You're smart and capable. I appreciate that.

[Is what he ends up saying quietly. He rifles through his pockets.] You smoke?

Date: 2018-05-29 08:14 am (UTC)
withimagination: (worth a shot but I'm gone)
From: [personal profile] withimagination
[He's picked it up lately, which is dreadful, but Eames has always been bad at avoiding things that are dreadful for him. There's nothing quite like having a smoke.

There's nothing quite like a handsome man pinking in the face at a compliment either. Eames perches the cigarette between his lips, digging for a lighter, and nods, saluting him.
]

Be back.

[And then he's sauntering back there, enjoying the fuck out of that cigarette after all that goddamned tension.

He saunters back in at the last minute, smelling a bit smokey but looking more at ease. Which is an achievement, he supposes.
]

That's them, I s'pose, [he murmurs as he hears car doors.]

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