orangetoughguy | phone post

[He's got that restless look to him, knee subtly bouncing up and down under the table. That's what the cigarette is supposed to cure among other things like being fucking gassed with pheromones but Orange is unaware that that's exactly what happened. Orange just knows he can't one hundred percent trust Saya not to pull something ridiculous(ly dangerous) again and that leaves one of the better garages in the city short a mechanic, which leaves Eames in kind of a spot doesn't it?]

Don't fuckin' kid yourself, she's a brick wall.

[At least he doesn't say trust no bitch. Just when Orange is taking another pull a waitress comes by to inform him there's NO SMOKING in this establishment. Fuck modern day health concerns, no really, fuck'em. He puts his cigarette out in the pita.]

[ For a moment, Eames just takes the time to observe him, and at least with the waitress tutting her tongue at Orange he can get her attention for a lamb gyro, a beer for Orange, a water for himself. Leaning back into his chair, he folds his arms across his chest, waiting until she's left with a frown, the sort of annoyed tension that stiffens her hips when she walks away. ]

That's not necessarily a new trait that she's picked up, though.

[That's a nice touch. Freddy should say thank you but maybe he forgets his manners in favor of continuing to bitch and moan about what he should have seen coming. Eames is right, it's not a new trait, hell Orange has said the same about her. Maybe it just didn't matter until she got personal about it.]

No it's not so keep it mind if she gets it in her head to fuck around with people you know. [To clarify:] Outside of work.

[ Curiosity peaked now, being that Eames is generally easy when it comes to it, he leans forward again, propping his elbows up onto the edge of the table. ]

Something personal, then?

[Orange drops his gaze a bit to the hole he made with the cigarette.]

Yeah. It was a personal. [Then his gaze lifts back up to Eames.] She ever look at you funny? Really look at you, black eyes like a shark or somethin'.

That's how White described it, kinda.]

[ Eames brings a hand up to prop his chin upon, brows raising. ] As opposed to...? Her eyes are brown, Mister O.

I'm not sayin' she's a fuckin' maniac. [If Eames is the watchful observant sort maybe he'll have recognized from past exchanges this guy talks with his hands.] But she's something.

[In a place where the vampires don't seem to give two shits about staying in their coffins and people regularly make superpowers their bitch, the fact that she's got something to hide (in his opinion) is more than just a curiosity. It's a concern. Particularly when she drags people close to him into it. Bounce bounce, Orange looks away again, clearly frustrated.]

[ Eames pauses as the waitress comes by a second time, with their drinks, letting him know that his meal will be out soon. He gives her a mild nod in thanks, not really looking away from Orange in the meantime, dubious eyebrow now settled to a bit of a frown. ]

What exactly do you think happened?

[For the beer Freddy nods. No not to the waitress, fuck her, he gives Eames a nod of thanks then goes in for a swig. Hm. Nope, he still feels a little hot under the collar but the beer pacifies him enough when there's no cigarette to suck on.]

I don't think it happened, man, I know it happened.

[Because Orange trusts White not to lie to him, not to exaggerate, he believes every fucking word because White's super cool.] She's got this way...you've seen her at work, digging around in heels. She's under a hood in a skirt and knows she's practically baiting any guy within a hundred fuckin' feet.

[Look it's not the same as saying she was asking for it. Orange is well aware of the language and sketchy territory there. With Saya it's different, he shakes his head.] She doesn't even need that shit. All of that makes it look fuckin' natural. She's got somethin' else, somethin' that could kick you off the fuckin' planet, that's unnatural.

[ Okay, nevermind, that skeptical look is back. ] So you think the fact that she wears unnaturally nice clothing to work is nothing compared to some supernatural prowess she must possess. [ Boy, you should meet Arthur. Eames uses his straw to shove the lemon in his water down to the bottom of it, ice clinking against the glass. ]

You have to understand, Mister Orange, unless you've got some sort of proof of an instance that Saya is anything other than a rather eclectic woman with a certain amount of social awkwardness - I have no idea what the Hell you're going on about.

Edited 2011-09-03 00:12 (UTC)

[Yep, he's nodding to that. That's exactly it. Oh great lead him on Eames, make Orange think you get it only to let him down.]

Don't talk to me like I'm a first year fuckin' thief.

[Wow. He almost said 'boot'. Don't say boot, Newendyke. He's got an idea Eames is more than he appears to be too, just in a non-supernatural way...or is it?? Either way, the other man is sharp and this isn't about what either of them did prior to coming to this city. Already he's probably telling Eames too much but what the guy knows ain't anything he hasn't already brought up with Saya.]

There's no evidence because it's somethin' you can't see, somethin' you don't taste. Buddy of mine kept a sharp eye on every fuckin' thing and this? Second time. [Actually Orange's best evidence is sitting right between his thighs but for fuck's sake he isn't about to introduce that to the DA.]

You say it's something you can't see, so what then is your mate keeping an eye on?

[ Orange is just sounding more and more manic by the minute, and Eames rubs his hand over his face, growing bored. ]

His drink? His smokes?

[Like duh. Okay that's not working. Think of something else, Newendyke. Oh God don't hate him, Eames. He has to lean forward a bit to keep his voice down even though there doesn't seem to be any wheelchair-bound dudes nearby.]

Do you know the X-Men? [Please say yes.]

[ Eames looks at him plainly, taking a long drought from his straw of water, and though Orange's voice drops a few pitches, he himself continues on like normal. Maybe Orange really has gotten manic. Maybe he's got the airs. ]

Yes, I bloody well know the X-Men - what does that have to do with anything?

[Hallefuckinglujah. His hands are moving again.]

Emma Frost. I'm not sayin' she's a goddamn telepath but it's up on that level. I've seen guys on blow, smack, meth, you name it, this guy was clean. What she put in him I don't know, but I can't work with someone who pulls that shit.

[He ought to amend it with "...on people I like." but hey he's more or less giving Eames due warning so that counts for something??]

[ Okay Eames may know of X-Men but he doesn't necessarily know the characters but whatever let's just roll with it. ]

So - what, he exhibited behavior as though he was... high? You think Saya mind-roofied your friend?

Edited 2011-09-03 00:48 (UTC)

[Goddamnit Eames work with him here.] He exhibited behavior like he was thoroughly dicked around.

[That's a hint, bro, though it works both figuratively and literally. As for the mind-roofieing....well.]

Yeah, something like that. I told you I don't know if she's a telepath but there's somethin' goin' on in there.

[Oh fuck Eames' mouth is starting to look good.]

[ Eames' tongue darts out to collect a stray drop of water from his bottom lip. Dicked around would suggest perceiving or perhaps being influenced in a way that was unwanted - something that could arguably be unconnected but all the same, a small flag goes up in the back of Eames' mind, and he frowns. ]

How did he act? Out of the norm in general, or orientated around a specific desire?

[Stop that, Eames. Stop that right now. Freddy swigs his beer, yeah that'll distract him.]

The last one, the only one I got any idea about.

[Orange is shifting in his chair some more. Look at how those short legs cross, oh wait the more you don't see the better.]

Is it one he wouldn't normally have, or the exaggeration of something already present? An idle wish, perchance.

[ Eames chews thoughtfully on the end of the straw before drawing a few more sips, glancing toward the waitress as she finally brings him his gyro. Freddy certainly is acting rather strangely - extremely stressed, which he understands well enough is stemming from some sort of concern from his friend, though half of him has to wonder if this is the effect of a curse rather than Saya. ]

[For the love of God stop doing that thing you're doing. It's distracting him from giving specific answers. Orange shakes his head, another sip is due.]

Gray area. You see what I mean, when you fuckin' look like that? [That being Saya, even Freddy knows she's a sight for sore eyes. She's attractive, she's gorgeous, she's handsome.] It seems goddamn 'natural' but me, I know this guy, he's a fuckin' professional. It wouldn't happen like that.

[Orange is trying to keep his eyes off Eames now, leg bouncing a little more under the table.] You don't fuckin' believe me do you?

Oh.

[ There's a long pause as Eames takes his gyro to hand, then reconsiders for a knife and fork, cutting off a piece and chewing thoughtfully. ]

All I'm hearing, Mister O, is a friend of yours has succumb to Miss Saya's particular charms.

. . . . . . .

[So unhelpful.] What if I told you she doesn't do anything for me?

I wouldn't disbelieve you, considering I'm the same. [ He plops a piece of lamb into his mouth, brow raising. ]

Really, O, you ought to check that the flood of leaves didn't catch in the ventilation of your flat.

[Whoa wait a second.] Really?

[Eames surprises Freddy. Like genuinely surprises him. This revelation combined with how he calls him O, Mister O, and variations of, is kind of endearing. Without warning his chair is scraping along the floor from this side of the table to that side of the table, until they're sitting side by side.]

Explain walkin' out of her office with one'a these.

[Your hand, Eames. Orange is going for it to put it on his stiff one. In all the times they've worked together, all the smell of motoroil, the bending over to grab a wrench, muscles flexing and contracting to open up a frame, sweat and alloy, he'd choose now to put the moves on Eames. That's just not like Orange, right?]

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