InsaneJournal

Who: Eames and Arthur
What: Discussing, uh, work? Yes.
Where: On the roof of the Casino
When: Just after these text messages, 2nd April
Warnings: mm, blood. Also, Eames.



Once they’d finished in the dream a few days ago, Arthur figured it was high time to try and get his powers under control. He started out slow, but had begun accessing more of the destructive powers he had. The fireballs were hard to control initially. He’d spent the past two days getting his aim down right coupled with the intensity of the fire. It took a bit out of him too. He’d even dared looking into using his own blood. That was something he was still trying to control, and had tried not to use if at all. It was dangerous and something he’d need to speak with Merrill about if he wanted to continue down that path.

But Arthur had found himself perfectly happy taking a few extra trash bags to the roof of his work and blowing the piss out of them with fire. The point man had an affinity for explosives, so the power he’d gained only helped to fuel the fire (no pun intended). He’d already taken out three bunches and was working on his fourth and fifth. Albeit, the garbage stunk a bit and almost made Arthur want to stop, but he wanted to practice more. Perfection wasn’t achieved without practice.

The text from Eames was a bit uplifting. He hadn’t seen the man out in public since before this all started, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when he was told the forger was on his way up. Admittedly, he was worried. Simply if only for Eames’ stated worry with his hunger issues. Arthur could defend himself, but he wouldn’t want to hurt the other man. He’d rather take the bite than risk doing major damage.

Seeing the forger head up the side ladder, Arthur gave Eames a small smile. It lasted a brief moment before he headed over to him, noting the disheveled appearance. Arthur found him falling into an old habit; his hands reached up, smoothing down Eames’ hair, cleaning dirt marks from his face and putting him as right as he could. “You seem alright. I hope that’s the case.”

Eames should have known Arthur would start trying to tidy him up the moment he appeared. He reached up and grabbed the other man’s wrists before he could start cleaning any more “dirt” from his face, and had to force himself to not kiss Arthur in greeting because he was fairly certain the other man wouldn’t appreciate the taste of blood. “I’m fine, love. I’ve just fed, so I’m fine. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway.”

He let go of Arthur’s wrists and stepped away, looking over at the mess on the roof and raising an eyebrow, then turned back to Arthur, his eyes fading into blackness for a moment. “Parker’s given me a list. Undesirables that live in the city, and I have free reign to do with them what I will. Which, currently, is feed from them. I’ve located about a third of them, although I’ve only gone after a handful, and I thought perhaps I should share the rest. Interested?”

Arthur still needed to get used to that. The eyes. It was simply distracting is all. He shook it off though as he loosened his tie a little, “Did you really need to ask? I’m itching to try this stuff out. Never considered using blood as a weapon, but when it’s equivalent to C4...” Arthur simply smiled. He was an explosives freak, though he’d never admit to it.

Moving away, Arthur picked up his coat, draping it over his arm. He’d at least managed to keep himself tidy while he blew the bajesus out of those garbage bags. Smoothing a hand over his hair, he looked back over at Eames, “So what’s the plan exactly? I’m assuming it’s simply a hunt and exterminate job then?”

“Your blood is explosive?” Eames managed to reply, his eyes fully blown once more. “Fuck me, good job I didn’t go near you properly until you worked that little gem out. A mouthful of explosives isn’t always my idea of a good time, although I suppose it does depend on what exactly is exploding.” He grinned at that point, enjoying the view as Arthur bent down to pick up his coat, then wandered over to where the other man was preening himself yet again.

Reaching over, he hooked a finger through Arthur’s belt loop and pulled him close, suddenly not all that bothered about the blood that was no doubt still smudged over his face in places. Not being able to see what needed cleaned up was really starting to piss him off, but currently, he had his Arthur in exactly the right place, so he didn’t give a shit. “Hunt and exterminate, indeed. I thought you might like the chance to hack into databases and CCTV feeds and all sorts of exciting sexy spy things. I’m a tad bored with that part now, I’m just wanting to track the buggers and then turn them a bit inside out or whatever.”

“You’ve got my Point Man senses tingling,” he chuckled lightly as he pulled Eames’ face down to his by the collar of his shirt, kissing at the corner of his mouth free of dried blood. “You’re a messy eater by the way. I thought I taught you better.”

Arthur smirked triumphantly as his hand slipped up over Eames’ shoulder. He could smell that familiar copper scent on the forger’s breath, but it didn’t mind him too terribly. Arthur was pretty certain he didn’t need the grief. “But playing James Bond for a few days doesn’t sound too bad. And it seems as though it would solve your food problem. As for my blood, I’d rather not have something happening to you, as curious as I am about the sensation. I’m not sure I could rightly live with myself if the wrong thing exploded.”

Grinning as Arthur kissed him, Eames turned his head very slightly and kissed him properly in return, pulling back when he was accused of being a messy eater. “I don’t know if you’ve ever seen someone bleeding out, darling, but it’s not the most controlled thing someone can do. Especially if there’s spurting involved. Besides, I can’t actually see myself to get cleaned up properly, which is bloody annoying. Pun unintended.”

He laughed quietly then, trying to imagine Arthur as 007. “You’ve got the suits sorted, love, but your current accent, it just won’t do. Will you be going for Connery or Brosnan? Also, I’m going to request that none of our things explode. If nothing else, Ariadne would murder us in our sleep for being so fucking stupid, don’t you think?”

“I should buy you some sanitary wipes,” he teased as he licked over his lips, the faint taste of blood there, “Mmm, you taste like O+.”

Arthur laughed hard at the mention of his accent, his hands playing idly with the hair at the nape of Eames’ neck. “You know, I don’t know why people didn’t like Timothy Dalton. I personally found him the most attractive Bond. And I’ll work on my accent if it will give the facade a finishing touch. Besides, wearing a tux makes me feel like doing something dangerous.”

“You know,” Arthur said as his posture stiffened, “I’d have to agree with you on that. I have a feeling she might find a way to bring us back from the dead simply to yell at us. And I’m more then half sure she can do it.” He shook the very thought out of his head, he preferred the sweet, beautiful Ariadne as opposed to the scary and vengeful one. “So, on to happier things. Who are we going after tonight?”

The fact that Arthur clearly didn’t mind the taste of blood was a good one to know. Eames quickly stored it in his mind, and was about to take full advantage of that fact when Arthur kept talking and so he felt a bit obligated to reply. “Dalton’s Welsh, you know. Although I suppose I should be glad you didn’t ask why people didn’t like Moore or Lazenby.” He paused to lick at the corner of his mouth where the dried blood was, resting his forehead against Arthur’s as he closed his eyes and savoured the taste. It was still vaguely “alive”, and didn’t taste as vile as the bagged stuff did.

“I would be thrilled beyond belief if Ariadne could bring me back from the dead,” he murmured, then pulled back to stop thinking about such things. “Hey, Arthur. Do I count as something dangerous? Because I can get you a tux, that’s not a problem,” he said with a grin, not forcing it all that much because really, the thought of going hunting with Arthur was a very good one indeed. He didn’t have his list on him, since he’d rewritten it in his own personal cypher not long after Parker had given the now-destroyed original to him, and it stayed in one of his many hiding places, but he knew the perfect pair to get Arthur started. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you about them on the way... Do you need to tell Parker or Crowley where you’re going?”

Arthur pulled a slightly repulsed expression, “Honestly, I didn’t find either of them very attractive so their Bond appearances didn’t really hold my attention.” Watching Eames’ tongue clean off a bit of blood from around his mouth piqued his curiosity again about the fangs. His voice seemed to drift off a bit while staring at Eames’ mouth, “I’d be happy if she could get us all back home. I miss Paris.”

He snapped out of it though at the mention of Eames being dangerous. Laughing, Arthur tugged lightly on the hem of the forger’s tee-shirt, “Eames, I’ve always classified you as dangerous. I think I have since I first met you. But if you’re talking in reference to being a vampire, you can be as dangerous as your appetite will allow you to be. As for the tux, I don’t think it all that practical if I’m not using guns. Fire’s a little more tricky. The stuff I produce won’t burn my skin, but if I’m not careful it’ll catch on my clothing.”

Stealing a kiss from the edge of Eames’ scruffy jaw, Arthur stepped back to pull out his phone, “I’ll text them. I’m pretty sure they’ll understand.”