undergrounds | .nov 24, closed to nancy and eames

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.nov 24, closed to nancy and eames

[Arthur's nearly out of breath when he opens the door to his apartment, pushing it open for Nancy to walk through and then following her inside. He flicks on the light and locks the door behind him, taking off his jacket hastily. He's gruff when he speaks.]

Living room's just right through there. I'll put some coffee on.

[There's a pistol in a holster on his belt. He puts the pistol on the counter when he goes into the kitchen, setting up the coffee with practiced speed. When it's brewing, he finally takes a deep breath. This night has been an exercise in frustration but there's no sense losing it in front of Nancy. He's considerably more calm when he finally walks back out to the living room, letting out a sardonic, amused sigh.]

I almost forgot to ask if you're alright.

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Thank you. [Nancy's got her arms wrapped around herself, pulling her leather jacket closer around her as she makes her way into the apartment. She's never actually been here before, it should be noted. But Arthur was the first person who popped into her head, at the thought of who she wanted to go to. Going back to work was out of the question. She wouldn't have been able to keep it together, and as such, knew that being alone in her apartment would have disastrous results.

So here she was, eyeing the gun warily as she walks past it on her way to the living room. Once there, she sits stiffly for just one moment before she begins to work on unbuckling the straps on her shoes at the ankles. Her fingers tremble.]

Mother-fuck-! [The buckle hits her ankle bone, and she looks up at Arthur, heaving a heavy sigh.] No. No, I'm not. [It's not aimed to be cutting at him, simply exasperated with the entire situation at hand.] I'm sorry, I need to spend the night. I'll be out first thing in the morning.

[Arthur sits himself down in an armchair across from Nancy, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.]

It's fine. You can take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch.

[He gestures at said couch as he sits back, letting out a sigh. He's still unwinding from the night - usually he does this alone, with coffee. He generally doesn't have someone else's emotional well-being to consider.]

What happened?

No, I'll take the couch. I'm imposing on you, it wouldn't be fair. [He looked just as stressed out as she was. She tries again with her shoes, working intently on the buckle, this time with both hands.]

I don't want to talk about it. [She says, mostly because she isn't even sure exactly what did happen. She was hired out, and then... She had to shake her head and laugh at the memory of what had transposed just a few hours ago.] Not until I make sense of it all. Besides, it wouldn't concern you. [She doesn't need to bring her friends into her private life. He didn't need to know about Fagin and the boys, or all of that mess, if she was involved with Shadow Coven or not. It didn't concern him.

Her shoes are off, leaving her stocking-footed in fishnets, held up by a garter-belt. The dark red of her toenail polish was vaguely visible through the opaque toe of the stocking. She'd clearly been at work.]

[Arthur watches her closely, unreadable as she speaks. He knows a lot more than she thinks, but he has no idea why she called him tonight and while he suspects it's about work, he's aware that it could be a lot more.]

If you insist.

[There's a beeping in the kitchen. He looks in its direction like he has to emotionally prepare to get up. He does it after a second, going out to the kitchen and coming back with two mugs of coffee. He sets one down in front of Nancy and returns to his armchair.]

But I'm here if you need to talk.

[Nancy accepts the mug, holding it close to her chest, trying to provide herself with more warmth than the jacket provided. Ripples formed in the top of the coffee.]

Thank you. I appreciate it. I need to sort it all out, first, anyway. It's just- [she makes a vague, manic hand gesture up near her head, momentarily transferring the cup into one hand. But soon enough she's back to cradling the mug.

Talk about something else. Anything. It's terribly unfair to do this to him.]

I'm really sorry to impose on you like this. You were just the first person I thought of, to call.

[He shrugs one shoulder, holding his mug up, impatiently waiting for it to cool down just enough to start drinking it without scalding his tongue.]

I don't have that many guests, it's no problem if you stay here a night. Stay here longer if you need.

[He looks around, assessing whether he needs to clean up. It's tidy - it always is. There's little to no clutter and the furniture's simple but high quality. Any shelving is neatly filled with books of all sorts and souvenirs from his travels. Some look out of place in such a clean space, but werewolves and fae tend to give gifts from nature and he cherishes them just the same as any others.]

It's good to know you'll use that phone number I gave you when you need it.

[He may not have many guests, but he does have one with no consideration whatsoever. He would prefer to go home, but Arthur's place is both closer and more secure than Eames' temporary lodgings, and seeing as someone foolishly hasn't rescinded their invite recently he's just gonna barge right in. The door opens easily enough when one has magic to get around the lock and he heads in, calling out to see if Arthur's in when he notices the lights are on.]

[Though. It does give him some pause when he walks into the living room, looking at Arthur and Nancy with a raised eyebrow. He'd seen them talking at the Lamas festival, but he had no idea they were friendly enough to be keeping in contact this whole time - the situation doesn't look like it's of a professional nature anyway.]

Ah-- [Eames probably looks a state, all gross and covered in blood from the fighting.] This is unexpected.

I really appreciate that. [She lowers her head, but manages to look up at him, through overly mascaraed eyes. Any sweet and innocent feel that the look would have otherwise had was gone, ruined by the dark makeup.]

really, I- [The door opens and that's what gets Nancy to look up, back towards the entrance way when she sees-] Eames? [She looks from Arthur, to Eames, and back again. Christ, now to deal with a fae, whom Norrell had it out for to begin with. But at least it was Eames.

Was she actually thinking that?] What're you doing here? Are you hurt?

[She moves to put her coffee down and stand.]

[See this face? This is the long-suffering face of a man who has been working with Eames for too long to be surprised that the fae has just invited himself in to his apartment. He sighs and stands up, setting his mug down on the coffee table.]

Thought you'd be going home.

[Well, this cat's out of the bag, and he imagines a few more are about to jump out as well. He does, however, try not to seem totally unhappy that Eames is here.]

Your place is safer.

[He says in an aside to Arthur, attention focused on Nancy for the minute. His body language is still tight, angry, but seeing her here has surprised him enough to put that aside. It's actually enough that he even considers leaving them be, but not quite enough to suggest it out loud. Instead, he gives Nancy a considering look - she looks off, and not just because he's here.]

Are you okay?

[He actually looks and sounds concerned, which may be a bit of a surprise to Arthur.]

[What was happening? Seriously. Tonight was beginning to be far, far too much. First she's nearly kidnapped, then interrogated, now she's at a friend's house when a man she thought had no connection to said friend happens to walk through the front door covered in blood. And he's worried about her.

She drops her head, letting her curls fall over her face as she starts to laugh, burying her head in her hands. It's too much. Way, way too much for the night. She needs a stiff drink and a long shower.] You've got to be fucking kidding me.

[Arthur gives Eames a look as if to say 'this is your fault,' but what he actually says after a glance at Nancy is:] There's coffee in the kitchen.

[He walks around the table to sit on the couch next to Nancy. He's not touching her, just getting a little closer in case she needs the support, but he's still addressing Eames.]

And get cleaned up. You're a mess.

[Wow. Oh if looks could kill, because Eames has no idea how this could possibly be his fault and the sharp look Arthur gets in return says as much. And whilst he'd never deign to take his temper out on Nancy, he has no such reservations about being a total dickhead to Arthur.

Oh, might I use your shower then?

[It's not really a question, given the tone of voice and the fact he's already going that direction. He may as well be flipping Arthur the bird as he leaves the room for all the attitude he's giving.]

[Nancy leans over towards Arthur, her shoulders shaking with peals of laughter. Once Eames is gone, the laughter dies off, and she's left wiping at her eyes, smudging her make-up a little.]

You know Eames?

Oh who am I bloody kidding- of course you do.

[Arthur sighs in discomfort.]

He's a contact.

[He reaches across the coffee table to grab his mug.]

A contact who takes magical liberties with the lock on my door, apparently.

Oh.

[She takes a sip of the coffee, stiffly, before setting it down and going for the flask that's in her purse. Whiskey tonight, luckily. Uncapping it, she pours a generous amount in before offering it to Arthur.]

You could call him a family friend.

[Arthur waves it off, frowning at the flask briefly before making the executive (and excellent) decision not to say anything.]

I should have mentioned that I knew him, but I wasn't exactly expecting him to barge in like that...

[He casts an accusatory glance in the direction of his shower, where they can now hear the sound of running water.]

It never came up. [She sets the flask down in order to repeat the same vague hand motion from before.] Don't worry.

[She offers a small, watery smile that doesn't reach her eyes.] I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Tonight is just- I don't think it's going the way any of us wanted it to.

Don't apologize. [Arthur says it to be soothing, and that clipped tone he took with Eames is completely gone. He turns on the couch, putting an arm on the back of it so he can face her.]

Everyone's safe now.

[JUST SO WE ALL REMEMBER WHERE EAMES IS.]

[She leans her head against his shoulder, just the littlest bit.]

For now, Arthur.

It's funny, you know? Eames had someone trailing me during the Hunt. The second it could have come in handy, nothing. Just the way it is, right?

[Arthur's a little awkward when he pats her back, trying to be reassuring.]

Did someone attack you?

no, that I can handle.

[She closes her eyes briefly.]

I'm just shaken, that's all. You don't need to worry about me.

[Arthur doesn't press the issue, sighing again in defeat. He's thinking he clearly does need to worry about her - if she wasn't attacked but something could shake her up this much, there has to be something else going on. Something with her coven, maybe?]

[He elects to stay silent, providing minimal comfort for her as she seems to need it, though trying to keep some space between them.]

[Worse: her family. She had to take care of the boys. Which, as it were, meant taking care of Fagin because at least he could give them a roof over their heads. Something that Nancy couldn't do.

She takes another sip of her coffee.] Thank you.

That gun on the table...?

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