(Haha, oh Australian slang. I hadn't even heard of half of these. Feeling vaguely inadequate now. More tomorrow/tonight (might be going clubbing, sorry) :) ALSO, FUCKING FORMATTING. Sorry for all the edits.)
“This is an order,” Eames says quietly, dangerously, after. Arthur is fucked out and lying in the curve of Eames’ arm and to be frank, a little impressed and very surprised that Eames managed to finally pull it off well. “Never flirt with Ariadne again.”
Arthur rolls his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
In Arthur-speak, that means, I have no interest in her; I only have eyes for you.
“Twat,” Eames replies. Arthur’s not entirely certain, but he believes that’s an exasperated endearment.
~*~*~
“Let’s keep the apartment,” Eames says when Arthur is trying to do last minute reconnaissance because they had to return to the shed in a mad rush for some vitally important details on Saturday, which is supposed to be their day off.
They hadn’t expected the mark to have a New Zealand (“Keee-weee,” Ariadne had insisted) mistress and this has caused Dom to go off the deep end and start wearing knee high socks and sandals and growing a ponytail and saying “Bro” to get into her mindset as well, because he doesn’t understand that that’s just a stereotype and not at all how all New Zealanders act.
Eames had been planning to visit the zoo, so he’s very disappointed and also being of no use at all. Rather than helping so that they can get out of there and go to the zoo, he’s just bitching that he wants to go to the zoo. It’s not productive in the least.
“Why?” he asks absently and pretends he isn’t at all aware of how he’s practically performing fellatio on his highlighter. He can be a cocktease, too. “You said you hate Australia.”
“I was venting my frustrations regarding my flirtatious adulterous boyfriend on Australia,” Eames says. “It’s not Australia’s fault. Australia is warm and lovely and sunshine-y and has cute fluffy koalas and wallabies and I want to snuggle them forever. My boyfriend on the other hand, is cold and mean and icy, and tries to break my arm every time I snuggle him.”
“You do know the Kangaroos can kill someone and the koalas smell to high heaven, don’t you?”
“Stop hating on Australia! I'm not trying to spit the dummy or have a blue with you, but I reckon you're wrong!” Eames yells, ridiculously overly emotional and somehow suddenly attached to this place. Arthur thinks perhaps he’s been spending way too much time researching their Mark’s son (Eames will be forging him for the job) if he’s picking up slang.
There’s also clearly something very potent in Yusuf’s Somnacin.
“Calm down. Of course we can keep the apartment if you want it,”
“You beaut!” Eames whoops. “Cheers!”
Arthur eyes him strangely. "Australia does some to suit you."
Eames puffs out his chest and flexes his muscles a bit. "I know, right? The blokes down at the gym said I was built like a brick shit house."
"Er. Too right. She'll be right?" Arthur tries. Eames rolls his eyes.
"Mate, you've got kangaroos loose in the top paddock."
"Eames? Shut the fuck up."
"Yeah, bro," Cobb sneers from across the shed.
In addition to his sandals and high socks, he's now also wearing sunglasses slung on the back of his neck and a stupid cap with a flat brim. He'd nearly had a conniption when they'd gone down to the pub for lunch and the waitress had dubiously complimented his neon pink 'thongs', and had immediately denied wearing ladies lingerie. Arthur was trying not too think about whether he'd denied it too quickly.
Eames kindly does shut up. And when the Somnacin wears off, he's back to British slang, thank God.
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OMG IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! <3 HAVE SOME POINTLESS BIRTHDAY FIC. 6
Date: 2011-03-12 04:56 am (UTC)“This is an order,” Eames says quietly, dangerously, after. Arthur is fucked out and lying in the curve of Eames’ arm and to be frank, a little impressed and very surprised that Eames managed to finally pull it off well. “Never flirt with Ariadne again.”
Arthur rolls his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
In Arthur-speak, that means, I have no interest in her; I only have eyes for you.
“Twat,” Eames replies. Arthur’s not entirely certain, but he believes that’s an exasperated endearment.
~*~*~
“Let’s keep the apartment,” Eames says when Arthur is trying to do last minute reconnaissance because they had to return to the shed in a mad rush for some vitally important details on Saturday, which is supposed to be their day off.
They hadn’t expected the mark to have a New Zealand (“Keee-weee,” Ariadne had insisted) mistress and this has caused Dom to go off the deep end and start wearing knee high socks and sandals and growing a ponytail and saying “Bro” to get into her mindset as well, because he doesn’t understand that that’s just a stereotype and not at all how all New Zealanders act.
Eames had been planning to visit the zoo, so he’s very disappointed and also being of no use at all. Rather than helping so that they can get out of there and go to the zoo, he’s just bitching that he wants to go to the zoo. It’s not productive in the least.
“Why?” he asks absently and pretends he isn’t at all aware of how he’s practically performing fellatio on his highlighter. He can be a cocktease, too. “You said you hate Australia.”
“I was venting my frustrations regarding my flirtatious adulterous boyfriend on Australia,” Eames says. “It’s not Australia’s fault. Australia is warm and lovely and sunshine-y and has cute fluffy koalas and wallabies and I want to snuggle them forever. My boyfriend on the other hand, is cold and mean and icy, and tries to break my arm every time I snuggle him.”
“You do know the Kangaroos can kill someone and the koalas smell to high heaven, don’t you?”
“Stop hating on Australia! I'm not trying to spit the dummy or have a blue with you, but I reckon you're wrong!” Eames yells, ridiculously overly emotional and somehow suddenly attached to this place. Arthur thinks perhaps he’s been spending way too much time researching their Mark’s son (Eames will be forging him for the job) if he’s picking up slang.
There’s also clearly something very potent in Yusuf’s Somnacin.
“Calm down. Of course we can keep the apartment if you want it,”
“You beaut!” Eames whoops. “Cheers!”
Arthur eyes him strangely. "Australia does some to suit you."
Eames puffs out his chest and flexes his muscles a bit. "I know, right? The blokes down at the gym said I was built like a brick shit house."
"Er. Too right. She'll be right?" Arthur tries. Eames rolls his eyes.
"Mate, you've got kangaroos loose in the top paddock."
"Eames? Shut the fuck up."
"Yeah, bro," Cobb sneers from across the shed.
In addition to his sandals and high socks, he's now also wearing sunglasses slung on the back of his neck and a stupid cap with a flat brim. He'd nearly had a conniption when they'd gone down to the pub for lunch and the waitress had dubiously complimented his neon pink 'thongs', and had immediately denied wearing ladies lingerie. Arthur was trying not too think about whether he'd denied it too quickly.
Eames kindly does shut up. And when the Somnacin wears off, he's back to British slang, thank God.
Cobb, on the other hand, is a lost cause.