She's glad that she's not being held accountable to remembering the name, though it's not that she doesn't like him (he's certainly a reminder of more dangerous fantasies), it's just that there's so many new people. Reaching out to shake his hand, she tries to focus on the warmth of his palm and not the heat of the shame at forgetting.]
And I'm Peggy, in case the forgetting goes both ways, which I wouldn't blame you for.
[Though, did she ever introduce herself? She suspects not, perhaps she'd been trying at some modesty.]
Are you looking for a partner in any of these games of yours? Now that I'm living a life with extra time?
Thank you, [ he says with a sheepish smile that says he might have forgotten as well. He didn't. And she never didn't introduce herself in the first place. But being a good conman means he's looked and memorised. But she's ashamed of forgetting, so easing up her guilt is quite easy by alluding he did as well. ] It's nice to meet you, again, Peggy.
[ He grins at her as she suggests a game and tilts his head towards the net. ] I could go for a game of beach volley if you don't mind.
[Peggy looks to the net and then down to her swimsuit, thinking that it might be a rather perilous endeavour. It's not even a sport she knows very well, first of all, which means that she's not racing for it.]
Can I convince you to try a bit of footie instead? I'm far more effective when I'm going for someone's ankles instead of swatting at a ball.
[If only they had lacrosse, then she could really show off the skills a girl's school had taught during her formative years.]
[ Eames shrugs easily with a small grin. ] Please don't injure me.
[ He's definitely not worried but can't resist a little bit of teasing. What kind of an Englishman he would be if he didn't like some football. It would seem like a sacrilege. And he's been known to kick some ball around and follows quite religiously the sport at least during world cup. ]
Here, let me get us a ball. [ he says before he jogs away towards the game equipment. ]
[Peggy lets him go, because she appreciate the view. While she might be here strictly in a professional capacity, she can't deny the perks of this little task. Watching him return, she gives him a determined smirk as she sees the ball.]
Now, when I was younger, my brother always had a terrible habit of letting me win until I showed him why that was a bad idea. You're not going to try that, are you?
[ There's a little cheshire smirk on his lips that says he has absolutely no intentions of letting her win. ]
What kind of a gentleman I would be if I ignored such a nice request from a pretty lady?
[ He drops the ball to the ground and presses his foot on top of it, tilting his head in a wordless invitation to come and take the ball from him. When she does, though, he pushes the ball back and kicks it to the side with his other leg, moving with it to keep it away from her toes. ]
[Peggy's determination supersedes her desire to make friends, which is why as soon as the ball hits the ground, her elbows go out and she has every intention now of getting it back, working to get at the ball with grace. Eventually, she decides that if she wants it...
Well, there might be a little elbowing in the stomach to get in his space, pressed in so she can deliberately block him. She doesn't quite get at the ball like this, but she does prevent him from moving too freely.]
[ Eames lets out a small sound that's half way a chuckle, half way a groan when she pretty much elbows him in the stomach in her attempts to get the ball away from him. Of course he doesn't relent that easily. It's a contact sport and all that.
But given that she's not playing nice, he doesn't feel like he has to either, which means he's going to block her with his chest, broad as it is, right up in her face, his arms spread in a gesture of surrender even if there's nothing of the sort in the way his feet keep the ball away from her. ]
[It certainly does the trick to block her, but not only that, it draws attention to the breadth of it, which is certainly ore than Peggy had thought that she'd get to see today. She presses up against it once, then twice, almost as if testing out the steadiness of it.
When it doesn't seem like he's going anywhere, she decides to turn and try and deke out of the way, managing to grab at the ball and tug it towards herself as it dribbles over his foot.
Laughing, she knows this is hardly very graceful, but a success is a success.]
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womanofvalue) wrote2018-07-18 07:52 pm
eames
She's glad that she's not being held accountable to remembering the name, though it's not that she doesn't like him (he's certainly a reminder of more dangerous fantasies), it's just that there's so many new people. Reaching out to shake his hand, she tries to focus on the warmth of his palm and not the heat of the shame at forgetting.]
And I'm Peggy, in case the forgetting goes both ways, which I wouldn't blame you for.
[Though, did she ever introduce herself? She suspects not, perhaps she'd been trying at some modesty.]
Are you looking for a partner in any of these games of yours? Now that I'm living a life with extra time?
no subject
[ He grins at her as she suggests a game and tilts his head towards the net. ] I could go for a game of beach volley if you don't mind.
no subject
Can I convince you to try a bit of footie instead? I'm far more effective when I'm going for someone's ankles instead of swatting at a ball.
[If only they had lacrosse, then she could really show off the skills a girl's school had taught during her formative years.]
no subject
[ He's definitely not worried but can't resist a little bit of teasing. What kind of an Englishman he would be if he didn't like some football. It would seem like a sacrilege. And he's been known to kick some ball around and follows quite religiously the sport at least during world cup. ]
Here, let me get us a ball. [ he says before he jogs away towards the game equipment. ]
no subject
Now, when I was younger, my brother always had a terrible habit of letting me win until I showed him why that was a bad idea. You're not going to try that, are you?
[It would be terribly disappointing, after all.]
sorry I'm late!
What kind of a gentleman I would be if I ignored such a nice request from a pretty lady?
[ He drops the ball to the ground and presses his foot on top of it, tilting his head in a wordless invitation to come and take the ball from him. When she does, though, he pushes the ball back and kicks it to the side with his other leg, moving with it to keep it away from her toes. ]
I am always good for backtags, so no worries!
Well, there might be a little elbowing in the stomach to get in his space, pressed in so she can deliberately block him. She doesn't quite get at the ball like this, but she does prevent him from moving too freely.]
Let's see what kind of gentleman you are, then.
no subject
But given that she's not playing nice, he doesn't feel like he has to either, which means he's going to block her with his chest, broad as it is, right up in her face, his arms spread in a gesture of surrender even if there's nothing of the sort in the way his feet keep the ball away from her. ]
The kind sort, I would suggest.
no subject
When it doesn't seem like he's going anywhere, she decides to turn and try and deke out of the way, managing to grab at the ball and tug it towards herself as it dribbles over his foot.
Laughing, she knows this is hardly very graceful, but a success is a success.]
Clearly, I won't be on any national teams soon.