(no subject)

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

How much longer do you need?

Comments

*resorts to just sniggering loudly*

[myfavoriteblond.livejournal.com]

[They may have. She is that clever.] Please sound more enthusiastic, Arthur. You are supposed to be in love with me, after all. I worry for your acting skills.

[Eames glances over, her normal grin looking rakish on the masculine face.] We could stop somewhere and practice, if you like.

VICTORY.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

That won't be necessary, thank you.

[myfavoriteblond.livejournal.com]

No? A shame. I love how you get ferocious when backed into a corner.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

And that was your plan?

[myfavoriteblond.livejournal.com]

Planning is your jurisdiction, Arthur, not mine.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

Right, you always play it by ear.

[myfavoriteblond.livejournal.com]

Absolutely.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

Then we need to get going, because it's almost playtime.

[myfavoriteblond.livejournal.com]

[Eyelashes might brush cheeks as they dip just once, before Eames smiles.] You're a terrible tease. [He leads the way.] Do remember to be deeply in love with me.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

Worshiping the ground you walk on as we speak.

[myfavoriteblond.livejournal.com]

Not with that tone, dearest.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

And what tone do I need?

[myfavoriteblond.livejournal.com]

[He stops their forward motion in consideration, turning slightly toward Arthur. Full lips turn into a disarmingly geniune smile as he reaches up and brushes the backs of fingers up Arthur's cheek.] You look lovely tonight.

[And goddamn if it doesn't sound like if we weren't in public I would undress you right now.]

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

We don't have much time.

[myfavoriteblond.livejournal.com]

[Eames takes the moment, leaning in and pressing the chasest of kisses to the corner of Arthur's mouth before murmuring,] Lead on, dear Arthur.

[pointwoman.livejournal.com]

Just like Eames, I don't plan. Which is how I can start something and have no idea where to take it.

[myfavoriteblond.livejournal.com]

[Eames' arm is light around Arthur's shoulders, the gentle brush of thumb against collarbone absent-seeming as she looks around for their mark through the sea of subconscious bodies.]