i see your star

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[Eames and his mother aren't so similar at first glance. Some people might accuse him of being posh, (simply for sounding vaguely middle class, he'd wager,) but he's not gentle or delicate unless he needs to be. Something about him that's casual, that hints he's not afraid of getting in the muck and dirt. His mother, on the other hand, is refined. Poised and elegant in the way she holds herself. Really it's no wonder she's a muse when she looks like a painting come to life: Vibrant red hair that cascades in large curls even from the hasty ponytail it's pulled into, bright green eyes that glitter with knowledge and mischief. Accent just pronounced enough that the Irish lilt enhances the melodic timbre of her voice. Where Eames passes easily for human, she is ever so slightly inhuman. Not enough that it raises alarms, but enough that those in the know might see her for what she is.]

[One way they're extremely alike, however, is the way they argue. The family resemblance is uncanny in the rhythm of it, the sarcasm interspersed with sharply pointed comments. The way she raises her eyebrows and mockingly asks, "oh, should I read your mind next time?" Could easily be mistaken for having come from Eames himself if he weren't standing across from her, rolling his eyes.]

[So if someone fancied letting themself into Eames' home for whatever reason, this is what they'll be greeted with. Eames and his mother standing in the living room, arguing about god knows what.]

Comments

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[By the time Arthur clues in that there's an argument happening, it's already too late for him to just turn around. He can't imagine the sound of the door has gone unnoticed, and Boxer's already up and on his way to greet him, so he sighs and resigns himself to this awkward situation.]

[He comes through to the living room, a paper bag and a coffee from the nearby cafe in his hands. He doesn't quite have the keenest eye, so it's really hard for him to understand who this woman is or why she's here in Eames' house, and Arthur's brain is mostly trying to figure out an exit strategy anyway. No way does he want to get in the middle of whatever this is.]

Uh. Hey.

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[Eames gives Arthur a look as if willing him to escape, but it's too late. His mother has noticed him and, more importantly, his watch. The magic is weak, but it's her son's, she'd recognise it anywhere. She reaches out to take Arthur's wrist and pull him closer.]

"So this is the one, hm?"

[Eames, for his part mouths an apology to Arthur and shakes his head.]

I keep telling you, there is no one.

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[Oh no, he's being pulled.]

[He holds up his coffee to try and prevent spilling it and looks at Eames in pure confusion.]

I... Should I go?

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"Don't be ridiculous." [She has a firm grip on Arthur's wrist and offers him a bright smile as if Arthur didn't just walk in on her, a stranger, and Eames arguing moments ago.] "I almost never get to meet somebody important to my son."

[She offers Arthur a bright smile. This is totally and completely normal and safe.]

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[Arthur has enough time to register that she is very beautiful, and he can see some resemblance, but he's more interested in glossing over the word important and zeroing right in on son.]

Your...

[Just give him a moment he's processing. He looks up at Eames as if he'll get any guidance there and then looks back at her with a smile somewhere between confused and cordial.]

It's lovely to meet you.

[There's a twist of a question in his voice, but not quite enough to earn a full question mark.]

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Mother, let go of him.

[She glances at Eames with a frown, but does eventually let go of Arthur's wrist, but she's still very interested in him and making him talk to her.]

"Come, sit with me." [Warm and inviting as she moves toward the sofa.] "I need to know how a handsome lad like you puts up with my boy."

[Eames, in the background of this, sighs loudly and throws his hands up. How is he being bullied right now.]

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Oh — [He laughs, casual but still a little nervous.] — I think most of the time it's him putting up with me.

[He doesn't think he really has a choice in this matter so he does follow her to the couch, detouring to hand Eames the paper bag in his hand. It's a breakfast sandwich. You're welcome.]

Sorry, I would have offered to pick up another coffee if I'd known you were coming.

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[Oh food? Food for Eames? He'd kiss Arthur but his mother's here insisting there's something serious between them and he can't give her ammunition. He does, however, give Arthur a soft thanks and immediately start eating.]

[His mother, on the other hand, sits and looks at Arthur with a warm gaze that does little to hide the way she's watching him. Taking in all his movements, his discomfort. It's that same assessing eye Eames has, hidden behind friendliness, a little amused as she leans close and puts a hand on Arthur's knee.]

"You needn't be polite, love. I know better than anyone what a handful he is."

[Eames plants himself in the armchair with a noise of protest, but she gives him a look, challenging him to argue he's not a handful and he stops before he even starts talking with a huff.]

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[Arthur raises a slightly coy eyebrow at Eames, starting now to actually take in the fact that this is his mother.]

Well, I mean we're not...

[He gestures between himself and Eames, trailing off awkwardly. He doesn't really know what Eames has told her, but he knows for sure that neither of them would really call this a relationship, despite all signs otherwise.]

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"I see."

[She narrows her eyes at Arthur, and then glances across at Eames with a tilt of her head.]

"Always did hate commitment, didn't you?"

[Which is RUDE and Eames scoffs. He pauses to finish his mouthful of food and shakes his head.]

We share a friendship, and a fondness of my being nude. You're making issues of nothing.

[Welcome to Eames and his mum, Arthur. She clearly looks like there's more she wants to say, but swallows it and turns to look at Arthur with a sigh and a shake of her head.] "You see what I mean?"

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[He laughs, bashful as he shakes his head. He sure is fond of Eames being nude but why's it gotta go there in front of his mother.]

Are you sure you don't want me to go? Seems like you two were in the middle of something.

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"No, no, no." [She smiles.] "You're special to him, and that makes you of special interest to me."

[She smiles and lifts a hand to cup Arthur's face and turn his attention to her, leaning a little closer to him with a teasing edge to her voice.]

"He never allows me to see into his life like this, how can I resist?"

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[Arthur stutters a little and then clears his throat, at a clear loss as to what to do. His cheeks are slightly hot at the thought of being special to Eames, but he's really trying to ignore all that.]

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You're scaring him.

[Eames pipes up from his chair, at least some degree of actual concern in his voice, but he quiets down when he's shushed and rolls his eyes again.]

"Arthur, was it? What is it that you do?

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I'm, uh...

[Wow she just shushed Eames.]

I'm a bounty hunter.

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"How exciting." [She's a lot more touchy than Eames, for the curious. She brushes a knuckle along Arthur's cheek and tilts her head in thought.] "Is that how you met?"

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[Is Eames' mother coming on to him? What is happening.]

Uh, yeah. We were trading information, I think.

[It's been a few years so the details are hazy. Especially when he feels like he's being interrogated.]

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[She's just Like This, it's fine.]

"So... You met through work." [S I G H] "How... Oddly normal."

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[Arthur opens his mouth to say something as if he's offended.]

I... guess so...

[He's a vampire hunter having casual gay sex with a centuries old fae he doesn't see how that's normal.]

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Okay, okay. [Eames stands up and comes over to the couch so he can take his mother's hand and pull her up. She stands and brushes her clothes down with a huff, and Eames gives Arthur an apologetic frown.] I'm sorry about her.

"-- I'm just trying to get to know your paramour here."

[She's protesting, but not hard as Eames ushers her into the kitchen or at least like. Away from Arthur.]

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[Paramour, god. Arthur relaxes against the back of the couch and takes a sip of his coffee as he just recovers from what just happened. Maybe he should just leave right now. Would that be rude? That would probably be rude.]

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[Eames comes back after a minute or two, alone for now and looks at Arthur. He's a little amused, but he's also trying to be nice.]

You okay?

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[Arthur just kind of rolls his eyes and doesn't dignify that with a response. He's a little flustered but it's nothing paricularly traumatizing.]

Why is your mother here?

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I, uh. [Ahem. He leans against the wall and glances away for a moment.] I called her after we got back.

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Oh.

[Well that's... Fine. Okay. Makes sense. He almost gets up to touch Eames, but he stays put.]

Honestly, I can leave if you wanna be alone.