[ It's a few minutes of waiting, something he's thankfully very good at. An employee comes over, passes him a folded note, handwriting neat and well spaced.
Find me if you can, huh? So it's hide and seek.
Pocketing the note, he finishes his drink, sets the fluted glass on the countertop. He leans back, scanning his eyes over the crowd. There are projections dancing, movement making them seem like a blur. If Eames wanted to play hardball, he'd be out on the dance floor, the constant motion making it more difficult to pick out differences.
But then, if forgers are supposed to situate themselves, he might not be looking in the right spot.
Glancing down the bar, he skips over the woman seated nearby. She's beautiful, with dark curls and classically manicured nails. Something about how she's sitting nags at him, but he frowns, considers the bartender instead, who's in the middle of pouring a complex drink. She's blonde, petite thing, hair pulled back in a sensible bun, simple stud earrings the only embellishment.
If he were in a forger's shoes, that's what he'd pick. Though, what the hell does he know about forging? Nothing.
Time for a different tactic. Clearly just trying to pick him out of a crowd isn't going to work. Cobb had been right– Eames is very good. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2018-05-17 05:04 am (UTC)Find me if you can, huh? So it's hide and seek.
Pocketing the note, he finishes his drink, sets the fluted glass on the countertop. He leans back, scanning his eyes over the crowd. There are projections dancing, movement making them seem like a blur. If Eames wanted to play hardball, he'd be out on the dance floor, the constant motion making it more difficult to pick out differences.
But then, if forgers are supposed to situate themselves, he might not be looking in the right spot.
Glancing down the bar, he skips over the woman seated nearby. She's beautiful, with dark curls and classically manicured nails. Something about how she's sitting nags at him, but he frowns, considers the bartender instead, who's in the middle of pouring a complex drink. She's blonde, petite thing, hair pulled back in a sensible bun, simple stud earrings the only embellishment.
If he were in a forger's shoes, that's what he'd pick. Though, what the hell does he know about forging? Nothing.
Time for a different tactic. Clearly just trying to pick him out of a crowd isn't going to work. Cobb had been right– Eames is very good. ]
Lovely lady like yourself drinking alone?