neededforger | Making up for lost time, one more time.

Making up for lost time, one more time.

They had lazed about for most of the day, mostly just because they could, and even when one or the other of them got up to use the bathroom or retrieve a book, they always came right back, as if somehow that bed held all the secrets of the universe. Come afternoon, Eames went to get his laptop, doing some research to find a restaurant for dinner, coming up with a few nearby and just deciding by what was closest, since he figured the walk would do them both good.
He even made a reservation, just to make sure they'd have a seat, even though as far as he could tell they were wide open as far as space.

"Are you ready, Arthur?" He called back towards the bedroom from where he was perched on the couch, having settled there after he'd gotten dressed, waiting for the other man to finish his shower, though the water had been off for a while.

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He snorted a laugh, shaking his head as he slipped out into the hall, making sure the door had locked itself behind them, he definitely felt better, mostly thanks to the lazy day they'd had, he still had plenty of energy, and he was sure that a good dinner would do him even better.

Once they were out on the street he gave Arthur's shoulder a gentle nudge to point him in the right direction, walking at his usual, easy pace, keeping an eye out on the scenery as well, the sunset streaking everything in purple and gold.

Arthur walked slowly, but slightly ahead of Eames, and breathed in the air. It had felt like ages since he had been outside and it wasn't raining.

It felt nice, not too warm but not cold, and the smell of rain only faint. Looking further ahead in the sky, he could see the different colors and patterns the clouds and fading sun were making. The buildings were also colored and street lights starting to come on. It was bizarre for Arthur to feel this calm - especially outside - but he was. Having a "lazy day" had done him good; his energy reserves were plentiful and he imagined that had had a lot to do with it.

Eames, smiling crookedly again, slipped past the other man to tug open the door to the restaurant. It was an upscale hoff brau, which suited Eames just fine, it was still close and cozy inside, and it was only a moment before they were seated, the dinner crowd only just starting to filter in.

Sitting down, Arthur looked around, taking in everything. He ended up nodding, satisfied by Eames' choice (so far - they still had to taste the food). Although, if what he could smell around them was any indication, that would probably satisfy him, too.

He couldn't help but smile again, knowing that Arthur was already assessing their surroundings, it was the same sort of thing he did in an unknown situation, and it was what he'd done on the short walk across the room to the table, he was comfortable enough not to worry about having his side to the door, though he would have preferred to be facing it fully, that was an old habit and he was fine as long as his back wasn't to the door.

He grinned up at the woman who brought them each a pint of the house brew and the menus, commenting that she'd be right back to take their orders.

Considering what they did for a living, it was never too out of place to assess their surroundings (and, playing "tourists" as they were, it really wasn't uncommon for people to do that in the restaurants, shops, and museums around here).

His eyebrows went up slightly at the pint - he had forgotten that part of the German meal course oddly enough - but he nodded his thanks to her, and took a small sip. He then opened his menu, trying to figure out what he was in the mood for.

Eames did the same, humming curiously in the back of his throat, nodding as he decided that he rather liked the beer, as he tended to do when it was something that wasn't mass produced, except for Guinness, because they knew what they were doing when it came to bottling.

He was still keeping an eye on things, as he was prone to doing no matter the situation, and especially in a crowd, he might have been filing mannerisms away as he usually did, and he might just have been doing risk assessment.

Not looking up from his menu, taking another sip of his drink, "Don't look too obvious, Eames."

Arthur knew Eames was good at what he did - the best, even - but he also had a tendency to be a little too obvious in his watching and "filing" habits.

There was a laugh then, shaking his head and settling back in his seat, "See, this is what happens when I'm out of the game for a few days, I run right back into being a bloody amateur." Which they both knew was an exaggeration, but he was going to stick by that statement, mostly just because he could.

Arthur rolled his eyes, then, flatly, "Better hope that fever didn't fry out all your skills, then, if that's the case."

"Well, won't be able to test all of them here and now, but if you're that worried you're welcome to help me test the rest of them when we get back."

"Nope. No thank you."

"Well how am I supposed to know if I'm doing anything correctly if I haven't got an extra pair of eyes to point out inconsistencies?" Really that was going to be the extent of his argument for the time being, since he could understand the other man's reluctance.

Arthur gave him a flat look and answer to go with it, "Use a mirror."

"No good." He said with a shrug, sipping at his pint again, "Only ever see myself." This wasn't strictly true, if he caught his reflection in his peripheral vision he looked the same way anyone else saw him, or if he managed to get a proper dressing mirror that had three sides, he could play the reflections off of each other and get it sorted out that way, which was how he usually did things.

Same look, "Liar." Arthur knew how he worked and while a mirror may not be as good as a new pair of eyes, that didn't rule it out as a tool.

He shrugged, sitting back in his seat, already having decided on what he was going to eat, "I should be fine though, I've been sicker and hadn't had any problems with the usual set of skills."

"Good. Then you won't need my help." He was pretty sure he had found what he wanted, too and took another sip of his drink.

"I'd prefer your help." He said, tone earnest, "But if I have to do without, well I'll just make due."

He grinned at the waitress when she returned, ordering in German, since his German was far better than his French, though not quite as good as his Russian.

Arthur remained silent at Eames' other statement, not wanting to get into that kind of discussion right now. Or later, really.

When it came time for him to order (his German still a bit rusty but decent enough) he decided on a plate of Hackfleisch. From what he could tell of the description, it would fill him up easily (and give him some much needed protein). When he was done he handed his menu back. He already knew what he wanted for dessert, too.

"You'll have to tell me how that is." Eames said, smiling faintly again, "It was a tossup between that and the roast, it's just been longer since I had a proper roast, and it sounded good."

Arthur shrugged, sitting back in his seat, "From its description, it sounds like beef stew - just without the rice and carrots."

"I know what it is." He said, smiling crookedly, "I've had it before. It's always a tossup whether or not it's going to be good is all, sometimes it's too spicy."

Shrugging, but giving Eames a slightly annoyed look, "Guess I'll find out." And took another swallow of his drink.

His brow arched at the annoyed look, head tilting, "What was that for?"

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