...keyword 'was'.
Taken from
addandsubtract: name three fic ideas you think I will never, ever, ever write. in return, I will attempt to write a snippet of (at least) one of them. OR, prompt me things that are prompt-like, and I will try to write things which are hopefully fic-like. RUN, DON'T WALK.
1.
It's Venice and Arthur is Romeo climbing the trellis
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The gob of saliva almost lands on Arthur's boot. He moves it away, kicking up dust with his heel. "All of them?" he asks, even though he heard Cobb just fine.
"All of them," Cobb confirms. "They said he took their horses, too. Let them keep their hats, though."
"He let them keep their hats," Arthur repeats. "Well, what a magnanimous fellow this outlaw is. He stole a stagecoach but he let them keep their hats."
Cobb shrugs. "I thought it was an important detail. It gives insight into his character."
"I'm not interested in character, I'm interested in catching this person, getting back all the gold he's stolen, and then sleeping easy at night while knowing that he'll be spending the rest of his life in Yuma, Arizona." Arthur gives the porch a half-hearted kick, then adjusts his badge and squints off into the distance, past the saloon and all the way out to the shimmering desert. Drought season is just about halfway over, but it already feels like it's been a few eternities since the last rain.
Cobb waits for a couple minutes, then finally asks, "You decent?"
"Yes," Arthur sniffs.
They walk back inside, boots clomping across the floorboards and then down the stairs to the basement jail. The boy that Cobb had captured earlier is still standing, arms draped through the bars. A thin sliver of sunlight shines right past the boy's hat-covered head.
"Lift your face," Arthur tells him.
The boy does so silently.
"Take off your hat and step into the light."
The boy obeys -- but as his face becomes illuminated and the hat comes off, Arthur sees that it's actually a girl, with a fierce eyes and a tight-strung mouth.
"Huh," Cobb says. He spits again.
"Where's Eames?" Arthur asks, refusing to be thrown off by this turn of events.
"Can't say," she says. "I'm here and he's not. Reckon that's all I know."
"Reckon you know a lot more than you're letting on and you're just not saying," Arthur counters.
"Oh, yes, that too. I do know lots of things." She smiles and tilts her head, just like the ladies at the saloons. It looks like a practiced movement. "Don't tell him I told you, but you're his favorite."
"Can't say I return the sentiment," Arthur says evenly. Cobb snorts.
The smile widens. "I'm sure you'll meet him soon, Mr. Arthur."
(BONUS CAMPING:
When Arthur comes back with the cooler, he finds Eames frowning at the tent bundle, which is lying a few feet away in a patch of dirt.
"I thought it was one that you throw up into the air and it assembles itself," Eames explains after a pause.)
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this is the best thing to wake up to. and i need more of the camping in my life. it was two lines but it made me laugh so hard.
thank you, bb! ♥ ♥ ♥
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Ah, Eames... he probably went camping with his butler/valet/man servant, so he didn't know how to do any of the tent work!! lol
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Awww, Eames. Camping is not a--strong suit. I bet the next line would have to be:
Arthur won't admit it, but he'd thought so too.
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