Spilling the Beans | Inception | Arthur/Eames
Title: Spilling the Beans
Author: dremiel
Fandom: Inception (2010)
Characters: Arthur, Eames (Inception)
Word count: Triple Drabble (300)
Warnings: Horrible pun used as title
Notes: Dashed off on the adorable Written? Kitten! at yes, my local coffeehouse.
Summary: Information vs knowledge
Following Arthur through the open door, Eames paused to savor the intoxicating aroma of roasting coffee beans. He took in the space with approval. The lighting was a bit dim over the throng of mismatched chairs and tables but a couple of decent reading lamps flanked a sagging couch across the room. The walls were filled with rather good charcoal sketches, probably an employee's work, and the music was low enough to be unobtrusive if not for the throbbing bass and somewhat strident vocals. It was, in short, a coffee shop that didn't give a fuck what you thought of it. Which made it perfect.
He turned to find Arthur watching him with a fond smile. Eames lifted an eyebrow in inquiry but Arthur merely shook his head, still smiling. Needing to look away from those incongruous dimples before he was overcome, Eames focused on the inevitable chalkboard menu and was amused to find a warning lettered in vibrant pink:
"We do not serve tea. This is a coffeehouse. We’re crap at making tea and don't care to learn. Because we run a coffeehouse. Deal with it."
Arthur snorted softly then asked, "Is this okay? You don't usually drink coffee."
"I don't drink shit coffee," Eames corrected. "I was born in Kenya, of course I drink coffee."
"You were born in Kenya?"
Scrambling, Eames drawled, "You're aware that I live in Kenya."
"You said 'born'." Arthur was sporting his bloodhound look; Eames was screwed.
Giving in, he shrugged, "Okay, yes. I was born in Kenya." Watching Arthur closely he added, "But you already knew that."
"Data," Arthur dismissed. "With friends I prefer stories."
The moment stretched.
Eames squashed his first five responses but eventually managed a light tone, "Right. For a cup of the Arabica I've got a few stories"
Author: dremiel
Fandom: Inception (2010)
Characters: Arthur, Eames (Inception)
Word count: Triple Drabble (300)
Warnings: Horrible pun used as title
Notes: Dashed off on the adorable Written? Kitten! at yes, my local coffeehouse.
Summary: Information vs knowledge
Following Arthur through the open door, Eames paused to savor the intoxicating aroma of roasting coffee beans. He took in the space with approval. The lighting was a bit dim over the throng of mismatched chairs and tables but a couple of decent reading lamps flanked a sagging couch across the room. The walls were filled with rather good charcoal sketches, probably an employee's work, and the music was low enough to be unobtrusive if not for the throbbing bass and somewhat strident vocals. It was, in short, a coffee shop that didn't give a fuck what you thought of it. Which made it perfect.
He turned to find Arthur watching him with a fond smile. Eames lifted an eyebrow in inquiry but Arthur merely shook his head, still smiling. Needing to look away from those incongruous dimples before he was overcome, Eames focused on the inevitable chalkboard menu and was amused to find a warning lettered in vibrant pink:
"We do not serve tea. This is a coffeehouse. We’re crap at making tea and don't care to learn. Because we run a coffeehouse. Deal with it."
Arthur snorted softly then asked, "Is this okay? You don't usually drink coffee."
"I don't drink shit coffee," Eames corrected. "I was born in Kenya, of course I drink coffee."
"You were born in Kenya?"
Scrambling, Eames drawled, "You're aware that I live in Kenya."
"You said 'born'." Arthur was sporting his bloodhound look; Eames was screwed.
Giving in, he shrugged, "Okay, yes. I was born in Kenya." Watching Arthur closely he added, "But you already knew that."
"Data," Arthur dismissed. "With friends I prefer stories."
The moment stretched.
Eames squashed his first five responses but eventually managed a light tone, "Right. For a cup of the Arabica I've got a few stories"