tinmantonystark:

“Pleasure’s mine, Mr. Jackson,” Tony smiled, giving him a firm shake once before taking his hand back and tucking it into his pocket. “Sorry for not being such a kind host. The amount of people who try to sneak into these things is staggering. Don’t know why they would want to be here, though. Usually I’m trying to get away.”

Realizing he hadn’t answered Harper’s previous question, he gave a light shrug of his shoulders. “Despite what the tabloids would have you believe, my dear, I’m not a big fan of multiple partners in my bed. I’d take a steady relationship over continued one night stands any day.” Tony reached up to snag a glass of ginger ale as one of the waiters passed. “Although, thank you for the compliment— and for not groping me. Can’t remember the last time I went to a gala and didn’t have a hand on my somewhere.”

Making a face, Tony took a sip of the bubbly liquid, motioning for Harper to follow him. “So, if you don’t mind me asking,” he began when they were more towards the back of the large hall. “What exactly would draw you to a gala like this? Funding for the Avengers isn’t exactly something that’s fun to attend. Even more so when only three …” He trailed off and stood on his tip-toes, spotting Steve and Clint in the crowd. Fucking tall ass blonds. Dropping back down, he smiled. “Sorry, making sure they hadn’t fled. I was saying, it can’t be that much fun attending a gala for the Avengers when only three of us are here.”

He tipped his head, a teasing smile replacing the old. “Unless you’re a supervillain,” he laughed. “And, if you are, you’re kind of lazy. I’m the one who lead us away from the crowd so you could shoot me. Not the other way around.”

 Depending on the person, Eames could list off a number of reasons why anyone would want to sneak into events like these. Some were interested in saying they were able to rub shoulders with the rich and famous. Others wanted to pretend that they weren’t who they were. And then there were those like him – bored and in the need of something to keep their attention. Or they needed practise. He was both, actually. Bored and in need of making certain his skills at picking pockets was still the best in the business. Galas such as this one would always provide him the necessary marks to practise his skills. Even if said marks were gorgeous and would provide him with entertainment throughout the night.

“No need t'apologise,” he said, offering a smile. What point was there to apologise for such a thing? None, he mused, his eyes focused on the other. “You’d be surprised by people. Don’t do this all the time and they think the floors are lined with gold or something. Only we know better.” The smirk he flashed the other was something he used to keep people from looking at him too closely. Eames knew if someone actually looked beneath all the layers they’d find a criminal who’d used the situation to his advantage. Stark was the perfect mark and no one had dared to try anything against him. It was why he knew he’d have a chance at success. Charm was his area of expertise, after all.

Shoving his hands back into his own pockets, his eyes were constantly looking around for signs that someone had caught onto his forged invitation. As of yet, no one had. But that could all change in an instant. “Huh, who would have thought that with everything that’s out there,” he said, actually surprised by said fact. Eames would have assumed what he’d read in the rags was somewhat close to the truth. “Then again, I’m not one who believes that bollocks. They’re just out there to make money. And from what little we’ve said you don’t seem the sort who would bed hop all the bloody time.” Unlike himself who preferred a casual relationship to anything serious. It kept himself and those around him from getting hurt. Which was better for everyone in the long run.

“You’re welcome. Though ifn we knew each other a bit more things would be a bit different, seeing as it’s difficult t'keep my hands to m'self,” he told Tony honestly. Eames wasn’t even certain why, just that he felt like sharing such a thing would keep him from looking more closely at him. Grabbing one of the flutes from a passing waiter, he followed Stark towards the back of the hall. He probably should have kept to the more populated areas but then again why not just focus on one mark instead of many? It wasn’t like he needed anything from this night. “And to be honest? Wasn’t aware that this was what the gala was for. Mate of mine sent me the invite and told me he’d meet mere here. Unfortunately I think he skipped out. But can’t really complain much.” Not when he’d actually gotten to speak with its host. And if he could gather a souvenir from it? All the better.

His smile actually turned into laughter, a sound that was still odd to his own ears. Eames had been called many things over the years but not a villain. “I promise you, Tony, I’m not some sort of villain. Just a bloke, nothing more,” he said, shaking his head in amusement. Technically he was a criminal but that wasn’t something he would actually say. “Maybe I should be asking you that, hmm? Seeing as you lead us both away from all the crowds. For all I know you could be looking to get rid of me,” he added, smirking at the other. Not that he thought such a thing but with their conversation it seemed strangely fitting.