(no subject)
Title: 52) Britain no longer has an Empire, and you must stop referring to other team members as 'rude, unlettered Colonials'.
Authors: immoral-crow and unvarnishedtale
Team: ROMANCE
Prompt: Picture
Word count: 1,010
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: Misuse of powerpoint presentations
A/N: You can find the whole list here.
52) Britain no longer has an Empire, and you must stop referring to other team members as 'rude, unlettered Colonials'.
There might have been only seven official wonders of the world, Yusuf thought, but Eames giving a powerpoint presentation really deserved some sort of honourable mention.
He was very familiar with Eames like this. They’d gone to boarding school together after all, way back in the day, and Eames had been just like this then: all cutting intelligence and razor sharp wit disguised behind an affable smile and affected mannerisms. Yusuf had admired him hugely, and Eames, who for all his hail fellow well met tendencies didn’t have many people he counted as true friends, had been oddly persistent in befriending the new boy.
It had been a bond that had stuck. They’d shared a room at Cambridge, and Yusuf was fairly sure he was the only one, family included, who knew the full story of Eames’s career in the special forces. When Eames had got involved in dreamshare his first call had been to Yusuf, and the rest (the acquisition of fifteen cats notwithstanding) was history.
All of which explained why Yusuf was listening to Eames’s lecture on building believability in dreams with every appearance of docility. Given that the last time Cobb had lectured them on architecture Yusuf had been forced to explode the microwave, he felt this showed the true depth of his friendship with Eames.
Eames was in full flow, and Yusuf could tell that he had his audience gripped. Of course, Eames’s preferred audience these days was an audience of one, but to Yusuf’s eyes Arthur looked properly impressed.
‘So, if you look at the common triggers for dream recognition…’ Eames pressed the button and a pie chart appeared. Arthur sucked in an offended breath at the combination of paisley, polka dots and stripes that Eames had used to differentiate the sections, but otherwise held his peace. Yusuf caught Eames’s eye and raised an eyebrow. He remembered (all too well) Carley Foster back in the second year and the lengths Eames had gone to then to catch her attention. Fluorescent socks were the least of it.
Intellectually Yusuf could see what why Eames was obsessed with Arthur. He was fucking capable, and (Yusuf checked again) very easy on the eye. More importantly he had the sort of Puckish sense of humour that Eames found attractive. Yes. Arthur was perfect for Eames if they ever stopped dancing around each other.
Yusuf sighed and pulled a boiled sweet out of his pocket. It was bound to happen sooner or later, and the only say Yusuf would have in it was what he’d send them for a wedding gift. He flashed back to his last wedding. He owed Eames. An actual stuffed rhino ought to do the job nicely.
Of course the one person who wasn’t caught up in Eames’s oratory was Cobb. Dom had been querlsome throughout the session, and Yusuf was really going to have to drag Arthur to one side to discuss the dose of Prozac he was slipping dosing Dom with. It wasn’t as if Yusuf had a problem with the ethics of the situation - but he did have a little something he’d been working on that might do the job that much better. He looked across the table. Frankly Cobb looked like he needed it.
Eames, however, was not dealing well with Cobb’s constant objections. The average person may not have been able to tell, but with nearly twenty years of knowledge Yusuf could see the signs. The slight tightness to Eames’s smile, the way he was flipping the whiteboard marker between his fingers - these were as good as a placard to Yusuf.
Really, Yusuf thought, Dom should know better than to nitpick at Eames when Arthur was in the room. No-one liked to be belittled in the eyes of the person they loved after all. He glanced across at Ariadne and passed her a barley-sugar under the table, letting their fingers brush when he did so.
‘The trick to getting this just right,’ Eames continued, and Yusuf blushed at Ariadne, Maybe, Just a little. ‘Is to focus on the details of the dream. The temperature, the colours the...’
‘You’ve spelled color wrong,’ Dom said, pointing at the slide behind Eames, and Yusuf could tell by the way Eames gently put down the whiteboard marker he was holding that this was going to be a blow-up of epic proportions.
‘I always appreciate you patronising me, Cobb,’ Eames said, ‘but I am rather busy just now.’
Cobb squinted at him. ‘There’s always an excuse,’ he said, and Yusuf slouched in his chair, knowing what was about to happen.
It was impressive.
Eames started with cultural imperialism, and the arrogance of people hijacking a language to bolster their own sense of self-importance. When Eames got on to the subject of American television, and how most of it was ripped off Channel 4 or the Beeb, Yusuf lost interest slightly, and he glazed over completely during the part about beer and tea. He’d heard this plenty of times before and knew damn well not to put cream in tea. It was milk and two sugars in builders’ tea, lemon in Earl Grey.
He winked at Ariadne and concentrated instead on his nintendog and the play-date it was on with Ari’s, his attention only recalled by the crash of Eames’s hand on the table as he screamed that he deserved danger money for having to work with such a ‘rude, unlettered Colonial’ brought his attention back to the fight.
‘Fuck you,’ Cobb said. ‘What did the English ever do for us?’
Eames scoffed. ‘Apart from your language, the law, and that stupid bloody tea party that confirmed you in your own conceit?’
‘But since then, what have you done for us?’ Cobb asked, and Yusuf raised an eyebrow at Ariadne. She nodded and snapped her DS shut.
Together they snuck from the room. Forget the bonds of old friendship, Yusuf thought. Arthur can totally handle this one.
Authors: immoral-crow and unvarnishedtale
Team: ROMANCE
Prompt: Picture
Word count: 1,010
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: Misuse of powerpoint presentations
A/N: You can find the whole list here.
52) Britain no longer has an Empire, and you must stop referring to other team members as 'rude, unlettered Colonials'.
There might have been only seven official wonders of the world, Yusuf thought, but Eames giving a powerpoint presentation really deserved some sort of honourable mention.
He was very familiar with Eames like this. They’d gone to boarding school together after all, way back in the day, and Eames had been just like this then: all cutting intelligence and razor sharp wit disguised behind an affable smile and affected mannerisms. Yusuf had admired him hugely, and Eames, who for all his hail fellow well met tendencies didn’t have many people he counted as true friends, had been oddly persistent in befriending the new boy.
It had been a bond that had stuck. They’d shared a room at Cambridge, and Yusuf was fairly sure he was the only one, family included, who knew the full story of Eames’s career in the special forces. When Eames had got involved in dreamshare his first call had been to Yusuf, and the rest (the acquisition of fifteen cats notwithstanding) was history.
All of which explained why Yusuf was listening to Eames’s lecture on building believability in dreams with every appearance of docility. Given that the last time Cobb had lectured them on architecture Yusuf had been forced to explode the microwave, he felt this showed the true depth of his friendship with Eames.
Eames was in full flow, and Yusuf could tell that he had his audience gripped. Of course, Eames’s preferred audience these days was an audience of one, but to Yusuf’s eyes Arthur looked properly impressed.
‘So, if you look at the common triggers for dream recognition…’ Eames pressed the button and a pie chart appeared. Arthur sucked in an offended breath at the combination of paisley, polka dots and stripes that Eames had used to differentiate the sections, but otherwise held his peace. Yusuf caught Eames’s eye and raised an eyebrow. He remembered (all too well) Carley Foster back in the second year and the lengths Eames had gone to then to catch her attention. Fluorescent socks were the least of it.
Intellectually Yusuf could see what why Eames was obsessed with Arthur. He was fucking capable, and (Yusuf checked again) very easy on the eye. More importantly he had the sort of Puckish sense of humour that Eames found attractive. Yes. Arthur was perfect for Eames if they ever stopped dancing around each other.
Yusuf sighed and pulled a boiled sweet out of his pocket. It was bound to happen sooner or later, and the only say Yusuf would have in it was what he’d send them for a wedding gift. He flashed back to his last wedding. He owed Eames. An actual stuffed rhino ought to do the job nicely.
Of course the one person who wasn’t caught up in Eames’s oratory was Cobb. Dom had been querlsome throughout the session, and Yusuf was really going to have to drag Arthur to one side to discuss the dose of Prozac he was slipping dosing Dom with. It wasn’t as if Yusuf had a problem with the ethics of the situation - but he did have a little something he’d been working on that might do the job that much better. He looked across the table. Frankly Cobb looked like he needed it.
Eames, however, was not dealing well with Cobb’s constant objections. The average person may not have been able to tell, but with nearly twenty years of knowledge Yusuf could see the signs. The slight tightness to Eames’s smile, the way he was flipping the whiteboard marker between his fingers - these were as good as a placard to Yusuf.
Really, Yusuf thought, Dom should know better than to nitpick at Eames when Arthur was in the room. No-one liked to be belittled in the eyes of the person they loved after all. He glanced across at Ariadne and passed her a barley-sugar under the table, letting their fingers brush when he did so.
‘The trick to getting this just right,’ Eames continued, and Yusuf blushed at Ariadne, Maybe, Just a little. ‘Is to focus on the details of the dream. The temperature, the colours the...’
‘You’ve spelled color wrong,’ Dom said, pointing at the slide behind Eames, and Yusuf could tell by the way Eames gently put down the whiteboard marker he was holding that this was going to be a blow-up of epic proportions.
‘I always appreciate you patronising me, Cobb,’ Eames said, ‘but I am rather busy just now.’
Cobb squinted at him. ‘There’s always an excuse,’ he said, and Yusuf slouched in his chair, knowing what was about to happen.
It was impressive.
Eames started with cultural imperialism, and the arrogance of people hijacking a language to bolster their own sense of self-importance. When Eames got on to the subject of American television, and how most of it was ripped off Channel 4 or the Beeb, Yusuf lost interest slightly, and he glazed over completely during the part about beer and tea. He’d heard this plenty of times before and knew damn well not to put cream in tea. It was milk and two sugars in builders’ tea, lemon in Earl Grey.
He winked at Ariadne and concentrated instead on his nintendog and the play-date it was on with Ari’s, his attention only recalled by the crash of Eames’s hand on the table as he screamed that he deserved danger money for having to work with such a ‘rude, unlettered Colonial’ brought his attention back to the fight.
‘Fuck you,’ Cobb said. ‘What did the English ever do for us?’
Eames scoffed. ‘Apart from your language, the law, and that stupid bloody tea party that confirmed you in your own conceit?’
‘But since then, what have you done for us?’ Cobb asked, and Yusuf raised an eyebrow at Ariadne. She nodded and snapped her DS shut.
Together they snuck from the room. Forget the bonds of old friendship, Yusuf thought. Arthur can totally handle this one.