Arthur/Eames
anonymous
August 7 2010, 05:12:48 UTC
I've seen a few prison requests and I want in.
I also want sap/angst. D:
I want Eames being put away for basically forever (lots of little, petty crimes, all heaped on top of each other), and him telling Arthur that he doesn't have to wait... and Arthur waiting. (Or maybe he doesn't.)
I like happy endings but I won't turn down sad ones.
AfterArthur wakes in excruciating pain. His head hurts so badly he can barely open his eyes. His right hand is on fire. The fire races up his arm when he attempts to flex. A small noise to the right of the bed catches his attention. His .45 is on the night table in the drawer, but just the thought of reaching for it causes pain to radiate from wrist to fingertips. He could try to make a move with his left hand, but any intruder worth his salt will take him down before he can make that move. The pain in his head is marginally less than that in his hand so he chooses to open his eyes instead
( ... )
Re: Fill 1/? WIPchase65February 1 2011, 10:04:25 UTC
There will definitely be more. I intended to post weekly, but had to finish up fics for smallfandomfest. I hope to post this weekend. Thank you very much for commenting. I hope you enjoy what's to come.
Fill 2/? WIP
anonymous
February 8 2011, 03:18:57 UTC
A/N: I know it's a prison au. I'm getting there.
BeforeArthur can't breathe. He's not claustrophobic. Tight, small spaces have no effect on him, except. Except it's been three times a day, for seven days. Seven business days. Pre-trial motions, jury selection until finally, trial. After inception, elevators should have been a reminder of quick thinking, a job brilliantly done. Personal triumph. Instead, he felt homicidal. It didn't help that in the hot press of bodies there were three armed people. Two Los Angeles Sheriff's deputies and one LAPD detective. The only good thing about the press is that Eames is nudged right up next to him. He'd be close anyway, but under this circumstance it makes Arthur less uncomfortable. A calloused forefinger brushes across the back of his hand. It calms him marginally. He thinks that Eames' skill as a forger might have made him slightly psychic. The touch isn't much, but it temporarily eases Arthur's urge to take the situation into his own hands. Such ridiculously inefficient planning. What
( ... )
A/N: I know it's a prison au. I'm getting there. Ugh double post, forgot to sign in and close a bold tag.
BeforeArthur can't breathe. He's not claustrophobic. Tight, small spaces have no effect on him, except. Except it's been three times a day, for seven days. Seven business days. Pre-trial motions, jury selection until finally, trial. After inception, elevators should have been a reminder of quick thinking, a job brilliantly done. Personal triumph. Instead, he felt homicidal. It didn't help that in the hot press of bodies there were three armed people. Two Los Angeles Sheriff's deputies and one LAPD detective. The only good thing about the press is that Eames is nudged right up next to him. He'd be close anyway, but under this circumstance it makes Arthur less uncomfortable. A calloused forefinger brushes across the back of his hand. It calms him marginally. He thinks that Eames' skill as a forger might have made him slightly psychic. The touch isn't much, but it temporarily eases Arthur's urge to take the situation into his
( ... )
I also want sap/angst. D:
I want Eames being put away for basically forever (lots of little, petty crimes, all heaped on top of each other), and him telling Arthur that he doesn't have to wait... and Arthur waiting. (Or maybe he doesn't.)
I like happy endings but I won't turn down sad ones.
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this fic will make me cry for sure if it gets filled ffffffff
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BeforeArthur can't breathe. He's not claustrophobic. Tight, small spaces have no effect on him, except. Except it's been three times a day, for seven days. Seven business days. Pre-trial motions, jury selection until finally, trial. After inception, elevators should have been a reminder of quick thinking, a job brilliantly done. Personal triumph. Instead, he felt homicidal. It didn't help that in the hot press of bodies there were three armed people. Two Los Angeles Sheriff's deputies and one LAPD detective. The only good thing about the press is that Eames is nudged right up next to him. He'd be close anyway, but under this circumstance it makes Arthur less uncomfortable. A calloused forefinger brushes across the back of his hand. It calms him marginally. He thinks that Eames' skill as a forger might have made him slightly psychic. The touch isn't much, but it temporarily eases Arthur's urge to take the situation into his own hands. Such ridiculously inefficient planning. What ( ... )
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BeforeArthur can't breathe. He's not claustrophobic. Tight, small spaces have no effect on him, except. Except it's been three times a day, for seven days. Seven business days. Pre-trial motions, jury selection until finally, trial. After inception, elevators should have been a reminder of quick thinking, a job brilliantly done. Personal triumph. Instead, he felt homicidal. It didn't help that in the hot press of bodies there were three armed people. Two Los Angeles Sheriff's deputies and one LAPD detective. The only good thing about the press is that Eames is nudged right up next to him. He'd be close anyway, but under this circumstance it makes Arthur less uncomfortable. A calloused forefinger brushes across the back of his hand. It calms him marginally. He thinks that Eames' skill as a forger might have made him slightly psychic. The touch isn't much, but it temporarily eases Arthur's urge to take the situation into his ( ... )
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http://chase65.livejournal.com/23618.html#cutid1
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