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neededforgerThey were already growing in infamy as the Bonnie and Clyde of mindcrime, even though he was nearly ten years her senior and she hadn't even finished getting her degree in actual architecture, but they hardly minded, in fact, they quite liked the notoriety.
It was the successful inception of Robert Fischer a year and a half previously that started it, after that Eames had decided that he quite liked the finer things in life, thank you very much, and Ariadne had decided that she quite liked somewhat older and potentially dangerous men, and so they'd decided to make a go of it. Granted, this decision had come after a night of celebrating and probably more drinking than either of them had done in some time, but they made it work.
Occasionally pictures showed up of one or both the pair of them with their ill-gotten spoils, but by the time anyone could actually identify the location, they were long gone. Of course, they made themselves easy to contact, they were (they discovered) an incredible team, but they never made themselves easy to find, since that would run counter to their whole philosophy. Their services never came cheaply, or without risk, but that was the way it worked, and they liked it that way.
It was late one evening and they were between jobs, Eames was double-checking their current finances and moving funds around, while Ariadne was entertaining herself with a heist movie on late night cable, "We could do this, you know?" She finally commented idly, adding, "Not Vegas, at least, not to start. Start with some riverboat casino down in New Orleans, work our way up to Monte Carlo and then to Vegas."
Eames arched a brow over at her, "That's Hollywood, pet, it would never work." Though there was amusement in his tone. Ariadne laughed, tossing a pillow at him, "We could make it work though is what I'm saying. Of course, we'd need someone who's good with information. The best, even."
Eames knew exactly who she was talking about and he shook his head, closing the laptop he'd been working with, "He's a stick." Ariadne didn't let him finish before she cut him off with: "Yes, but he's our stick in the mud, and if we're going to pull this off, face it, we need him."
Eames shook his head again, "And who says we're even going to try pulling it off, dove?"
Ariadne turned Bambi eyes on him, chin resting on her stacked fists, stretched out on her stomach on the bed, "I do." Her smile went crooked then, "C'mon, you know it'll be fun." She already knew she'd won, and Eames sighed a moment later, shaking his head, but he was smiling all the same, "Fine, but you're calling him, he might actually talk to you."
It was the successful inception of Robert Fischer a year and a half previously that started it, after that Eames had decided that he quite liked the finer things in life, thank you very much, and Ariadne had decided that she quite liked somewhat older and potentially dangerous men, and so they'd decided to make a go of it. Granted, this decision had come after a night of celebrating and probably more drinking than either of them had done in some time, but they made it work.
Occasionally pictures showed up of one or both the pair of them with their ill-gotten spoils, but by the time anyone could actually identify the location, they were long gone. Of course, they made themselves easy to contact, they were (they discovered) an incredible team, but they never made themselves easy to find, since that would run counter to their whole philosophy. Their services never came cheaply, or without risk, but that was the way it worked, and they liked it that way.
It was late one evening and they were between jobs, Eames was double-checking their current finances and moving funds around, while Ariadne was entertaining herself with a heist movie on late night cable, "We could do this, you know?" She finally commented idly, adding, "Not Vegas, at least, not to start. Start with some riverboat casino down in New Orleans, work our way up to Monte Carlo and then to Vegas."
Eames arched a brow over at her, "That's Hollywood, pet, it would never work." Though there was amusement in his tone. Ariadne laughed, tossing a pillow at him, "We could make it work though is what I'm saying. Of course, we'd need someone who's good with information. The best, even."
Eames knew exactly who she was talking about and he shook his head, closing the laptop he'd been working with, "He's a stick." Ariadne didn't let him finish before she cut him off with: "Yes, but he's our stick in the mud, and if we're going to pull this off, face it, we need him."
Eames shook his head again, "And who says we're even going to try pulling it off, dove?"
Ariadne turned Bambi eyes on him, chin resting on her stacked fists, stretched out on her stomach on the bed, "I do." Her smile went crooked then, "C'mon, you know it'll be fun." She already knew she'd won, and Eames sighed a moment later, shaking his head, but he was smiling all the same, "Fine, but you're calling him, he might actually talk to you."
