[Her affection for violence is all his fault. He's the one who taught her how to throw a punch at sixteen without breaking her knuckles. He's the one who taught her how to hold a gun, how to pick locks, how to hold a knife so it won't get swatted out of her hands. And while they may be criminals, bad people, as he likes to remind her, they are also loving and loyal, and Lucy would do anything for Eames. Including let him shoot Arthur if he had to.
She'd burn the world down for him. Arthur ranks rather below that, sadly.
She hums consideringly, chancing another glance over his shoulder at the mark, not surprised in the least to find him still watching her.] He keeps staring at my arse. [On the other hand, Lucy is horribly possessive, but she decided that what Eames does in the pursuit of completing a job isn't something she can get angry about. As long as he does his dicking about while in a dream, she's alright with it. Besides, she likes to watch him work. He's brilliant, an absolute genius with his forgeries. She wouldn't dream of curtailing him like that.]
Mm, don't worry, I'm not that committed to this pay-off. I'll see you in twenty minutes. [She leans in to kiss his cheek and then untangles herself from him, squeezing his arm before swanning across the room, feeling the mark's eyes on her as she slips through the doors.]
[ He watches her go, tries not to consider just following at a safe distance in case the mark gets a bit bigger than his boots. While he isn't possessive he is protective.
To keep his mind at ease he wanders. He pays attention to the art lining the walls, the fancy vases on the shelves, makes a mental catalogue of what he would steal if this was a breaking and entering kind of job. One of the portraits alone would fetch a pretty penny. But he's a dream thief first and foremost. Maybe in a couple of years he can come back.
He drinks champagne, he examines the fancy canapés, he fingers the knife tucked seamlessly inside of his jacket. Twenty minutes. He said he'd give her that long. ]
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She'd burn the world down for him. Arthur ranks rather below that, sadly.
She hums consideringly, chancing another glance over his shoulder at the mark, not surprised in the least to find him still watching her.] He keeps staring at my arse. [On the other hand, Lucy is horribly possessive, but she decided that what Eames does in the pursuit of completing a job isn't something she can get angry about. As long as he does his dicking about while in a dream, she's alright with it. Besides, she likes to watch him work. He's brilliant, an absolute genius with his forgeries. She wouldn't dream of curtailing him like that.]
Mm, don't worry, I'm not that committed to this pay-off. I'll see you in twenty minutes. [She leans in to kiss his cheek and then untangles herself from him, squeezing his arm before swanning across the room, feeling the mark's eyes on her as she slips through the doors.]
no subject
To keep his mind at ease he wanders. He pays attention to the art lining the walls, the fancy vases on the shelves, makes a mental catalogue of what he would steal if this was a breaking and entering kind of job. One of the portraits alone would fetch a pretty penny. But he's a dream thief first and foremost. Maybe in a couple of years he can come back.
He drinks champagne, he examines the fancy canapés, he fingers the knife tucked seamlessly inside of his jacket. Twenty minutes. He said he'd give her that long. ]