bamf_pointman: (Eyebrows drawn together)
[personal profile] bamf_pointman
Getting shot right after the New Year during a, what seemed to be, routine job hadn't been on his list of 'New Year Resolutions'.

In fact, not getting shot during a job was definitely somewhere on that list. It wasn't as though a job turning sour was common because it wasn't. Normally Arthur worked the jobs where he wasn't likely to get shot, due to how in demand his time could be now that they had completed Inception. Still, anything that dealt with the criminal world had the possibility of going sour simply due to the nature of the beast.

Arthur had gotten out of Paris as quick as he could after packing what essentials he needed and sending the brief text to Eames as soon as he managed to find a burner phone. He had quickly gotten rid of that phone as well and made his way to Germany where he'd sent Eames coordinates to.

He'd managed to only patch the wound up enough that blood didn't soak through his shirt during the train ride from Paris to Berlin. After all, there was nothing subtle about bleeding on a train from a bullet wound. Thankfully, the bullet hadn't hit anything major but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Which was why, after getting in town and stocking up on first aid supplies, Arthur was standing in front of the mirror with tweezers, a bottle of whiskey and gauze. His soiled shirt currently strewn into the tub, waiting to be burned.

He was waiting for his hands to stop shaking (probably due to the adrenaline and slight blood loss) so he could get on with it when he heard a rather loud knock on the door. "Fuck," he growled, hoping it wasn't some nosy neighbor. Doubtful as most of his neighbors didn't exactly know him from Adam. Which was exactly what he preferred.

Arthur's pants rode low on his hips as he threw on a cleaner shirt. Hopefully the blood wouldn't show in the time it took to get rid of whoever it was at the door. It was only after he checked the peep hole that he exhaled a slow breath and unlocked the double lock then opened the door.

"It's damn good to see you."
bamf_pointman: (Sketching)
[personal profile] bamf_pointman
Sex with Eames was everything he had thought about and had imagined it to be and more.

Much, much more.

They didn't even touch the reason why Eames was in town or the forged painting laid out on the dining room table. Not until the second full day of Eames being there.

Then they got down to business.

Which is where they were at that moment, sitting around the dining room table close together with the bottle of wine opened up beside them. In front of them were blue prints, the invitation and all of the information they could get regarding the Met and this event that would be taking place.

Truth was? Arthur was fucking excited.

It had been at least a year or more since Arthur did something like aiding in a classic switch. Mind crime was one thing. This? This was different.

They had to time this just right in order for it to work successfully.

With both of them on it? He had no doubt that they would succeed.

Arthur took a moment to pour himself a drink then glanced at Eames with a little smile. "I'm glad you called me for this job," he said. "Not just because I get to help you pick out a suit but... because it's been a while since I've had my hand in something like this. It's refreshing."
bamf_pointman: (He's not going to check every compartmen)
[personal profile] bamf_pointman
It had been a few days since his conversation with Peter and the resulting conversation with Eames regarding a visit from their new werewolf friend.

To be honest, there was a part of him that was looking forward to this meeting and yet, at the same time, there was a part of him that was reserved about it and truly didn't know what to expect.

The latter feeling was one he was all too familiar with. Considering his job, it was probably to be expected.

Whatever happened, it was sure to be entertaining.

One thing that came out of it though were the bestiaries that Peter had sent to him. Arthur had taken the time to merge them together into one and start the beginning of his own with what Eames and he had come across. Including the journals of Ellen Rimbauer and Joyce Reardon.

That house was forever going to be engrained into their lives. The only good thing that came out of it? Eames.

Arthur turned the desk chair around to face the forger and watched him for a moment. "Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?"

They had been out, of course. Done things together.

But he liked being able to call it a date with Eames.

It wasn't just work anymore. It wasn't running for their lives from both the mortal and now the supernatural sort. It was going out for drinks, dinner -- whatever else they decided to do that day as a couple.

He liked that.
bamf_pointman: (♪ Sit back relax)
[personal profile] bamf_pointman


[personal profile] artfulforger: That depends. Are you asking about it before or after I claimed it?

[personal profile] bamf_pointman: [Gives him a little smirk.]

Lets go with both.

[personal profile] artfulforger: Before was a nine. Now is a why are you showing off what's mine?

[personal profile] bamf_pointman: 'Why are you showing off what's mine' is not a number, Mr. Eames.

[There was definitely a teasing tone to his voice as he considered the forger. Definitely giving him a hard time.]
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