undergrounds | [catch-all] For when then and there, there will be enough.

Arthur nods and heads over to the bar. It's not a swanky place that sends people around to take drink orders or anything, but it's still a nice enough place with inoffensive music that isn't too loud and a cheery bartender who gets Arthur the wine and beer very quickly. Arthur brings them back and sets down Kathryn's wine in front of her before he sits down across from her, leaning back with a charming smile.

"So, you said you met Lancelot at a dinner?" He assumes incorrectly that this dinner was some professional or social affair, not that it was a Daybreak celebration dinner or that any shenanigans happened afterwards.

"Mm, yeah. It was a... Daybreak thing," she says casually, and takes a sip of her drink to hide how she's watching his face to see how he takes that. Making it obvious she knows he's not just some normal guy-- the way he reacts kinda dictates the best way forward.

Arthur pauses as he brings his drink up to his mouth - this is unexpected, but he should have known meeting someone from the underground was more likely at Lancelot's than most places. He's clearly having to turn this over in his head, and he doesn't look at Kathryn as he finally takes a swig from his drink.

"I apologize, I didn't realize either of you were associated with Daybreak," he says. He almost tells her it's bold of her to say that to someone who has no magic on him, other than the enchanted watch Eames gave him, but maybe she can sense that and it's not like she just came out and said she's a witch, which is what he assumes now.

"I'm not," she says plainly, and Arthur may not be the keen observer of body language that some people are, but he can probably see that something is different in her manner as she rests an elbow on the table and leans forward.

The way she raises her eyebrows is probably a lot more familiar.

"I need to tell you something, and I don't imagine you're going to like it."

Arthur certainly senses a shift in the conversation, and it makes him uneasy. First she pulls out the reference to Daybreak and now she has to tell him something. He shifts in his seat, straightening his shoulders a little, but he forces his face to remain casual and curious.

"I'll do my best not to be upset," he says with a soft laugh, though there's definitely a hint of nerves below it.

You know, in 600 years, Eames doesn't think he's ever had to do the 'hi it's me actually' thing. Not in this kind of situation anyway, and it makes him feel uncharacteristically awkward for a moment.

"It's..." He drums his fingers on the table for a moment and sighs. Okay, fuck it, "I'm Eames."

Arthur lets out nervous, incredulous laugh. He narrows her eyes at her and shakes his head. He knows Eames can shapeshift, but to let Arthur pick him up at a party and take him out to a bar while he looks like this, that's too ridiculous. He puts his drink down on the table and tilts his head towards her like he's not sure what he just heard.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Well, that's a great sign except for how it's not. Eames frowns and shrugs, offering little in the way of explanation or anything else. He just wants to skip this part and get straight to managing Arthur's poor reaction.

"You heard me."

"No, I don't think I did," Arthur says. He leans forward with his forearm on the table and holds up his hand as he tries to conceptualize this. He already looks like he's gonna be angry about whatever happens next and he is most definitely not doing his best not to be upset.

"You're gonna have to be a little more convincing than that."

"And how do you propose I do that?" Eames asks, and one could argue he has no right to be annoyed right now, but he is. Just barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Arthur's reticence to believe him too.

But he's not after a fight about this — not in public anyway — and he glances past Arthur to the door for a quick moment, as if contemplating an exit strategy.

"Do you want me to leave?" He offers, wondering if he should just leave Arthur to deal with this on his own.

"No," he says, like she's being ridiculous. She-- he-- fuck, whatever. He drags a hand down his face and sits back, finally looking up at her with his mouth set into a hard frown.

"I just don't know that you're not messing with me right now."

"That would be... A puzzling joke, at best."

Eames sighs, patience quickly waning, and he looks at the door again. He's quickly realising he doesn't actually care much whether Arthur believes him or not, but one might as well try.

"What's it going to take?"

Now Arthur's annoyed, but justifiably so. He can see Kathryn's eyes darting to the door, and he takes a deep breath to try and calm himself because he doesn't really want her to leave. Even if she does turn out to be Eames he has so many questions.

"You can't come up with one thing that only you and I - Eames and I would have talked about?"

He realizes that Eames could have given her something to say, but something about her body language and impatience now makes him feel like she's telling the truth.

"Sure, and I could tell you how you like to get fucked while I'm at it, but that doesn't actually prove anything."

Eames sighs and frowns, nursing his drink while he thinks about how to move forward in this ridiculous situation. There's not really much he can do if Arthur's this settled on not believing him though, and Eames leans back with a sigh.

Arthur lets out a long sigh as he leans forward and puts his face in his hands, feeling a fun mixture of embarrassment and frustration about this whole thing. He does believe it, it's just that he didn't want it to be true, but it's too ridiculous not to be. It's too convenient.

Once he's regained some ability to do anything other than hide his face in shame, he looks up at Eames, bewildered and upset. His voice is still low enough that no one's going to hear him, but anyone watching them must be terribly confused and curious. "Why did you let me talk to you like that? Why did you agree to come here? What was the point? You weren't actually going to..."

He gestures between them, and now he's actually thinking about what that would have been like if Eames had just gone through with wherever this night was headed and never told him. Arthur has to concede that that would be much worse, but he's not going to give Eames credit for that while the rest of this is so fucked up.

"Sleep with you?" Eames helpfully finishes, and he sighs, "it wasn't exactly my plan, but I would have."

Still would, honestly, but he's not so blind as to be totally unaware of why Arthur mught prefer not to hear that right now.

Arthur narrows his eyes at him and tilts his head like he's barely containing some pretty impressive anger. He can't believe that Eames is so flippant about this like he doesn't get how fucked up it is. Maybe after a few centuries it doesn't seem fucked up. But it still is.

"What was the plan?"

This better be good.

Eames shakes his head, feeling a little like he's trying to explain a complex subject to someone who fundamentally doesn't have the tools to understand.

"So you can't see the allure of speaking to someone in an entirely different context to what you're used to?" He asks, eyebrows raised expectantly. Why wouldn't he take an opportunity like that after it so helpfully presented itself?

Arthur has to take a deep breath and he shakes his head. That clearly was not a good enough answer, but he's still trying not to lose his mind completely. "Yes, I do," he says, hissing in frustration, "but I wouldn't actually do it because I don't take joy in fucking with people."

He shakes his head again and leans back, crossing his arms as he digresses, realizing who he's talking to. It's hard to remember and almost harder to stay mad when he's looking at Kathryn, but in his mind's eye he's picturing Eames' smug face, and that keeps the anger rolling along just fine. After a moment and with a much calmer voice (though still clearly unhappy), he says, "so why tell me at all?"

Wow, okay. No. If Eames looks offended, it's because he absolutely is, and he exhales heavily through his nose before he speaks. It's not untrue that he enjoys messing with people, but he's affronted by the idea that that's all there is to it. As if he leads such a dismal life that this is the only way to get his jollies.

"You might not approve, Arthur, but it's my job to know people. I didn't expect you to be there, but it's hardly as if I was about to ignore the opportunity."

Kathryn's voice doesn't quite carry the same bite that Eames' own does, but he's not thinking about that so much right now. He reclines against the back of his chair with a frustrated sigh and shakes his head. Half contemplating just leaving, but he might as well address the actual question he was asked, which he does with a dismissive gesture and a significantly less impassioned edge to his voice. "I told you because you're smart enough to figure it out on your own, and I'd rather do this now than three months down the road when you have all the necessary information."

Arthur works his jaw for a moment before he responds. This could turn into an even bigger fight than it already is and he doesn't want to do that in public, so he's trying to collect himself and make sure what he says doesn't set Eames off.

"Okay, first of all," he starts, holding out his hand like he's trying to brace Eames for what he's about to say, "I don't think it's really fair for you to be upset with me right now. Second..." he swallows because his pride is about to take a significant blow, "I am glad you told me rather than stringing me along."

God, that was difficult. Now that that trial is over, he sighs and looks away from Eames. "Although I am now questioning the strength of the enchantment on this watch you gave me." He gestures with the arm he's wearing the watch on. "I really thought I was getting lucky tonight."

Eames really had some choice words about whether or not he gets to be angry, (the answer is that he does when somebody makes him sound like a sociopath who gets off on embarrassing people, if anyone's curious,) but then Arthur makes the joke about the watch and it completely stops him dead in his tracks. He pauses, and then laughs a little incredulously because it's the only way for him to process the change in tone.

"Well, the opportunity was there," Eames says with a shrug, "you're the one who took it off the table."

Arthur rolls his eyes and gives Eames the longest-suffering look he can manage. "At what point between you flirting with me, agreeing to come here, and then telling me who you actually are was I the one who took sex off the table?"

"It was after I told you and you decided to get upset about it, actually."

Not that he doesn't understand why Arthur got upset, but the point stands that it was him who called it off.

Yet another sigh. Arthur's slumped kind of like being mad made him tired. "Did you really think I'd just be immediately back on board once you told me?" he asks. He holds up his hand after a beat to indicate that he has a follow-up question: "Also, are you saying it's still on the table for you?"

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