Logan: *at work, grumpy, because it's work*
Eames: *is sat at her desk, resting her head in one hand and writing with the other--looks slightly hungover*
Logan: Out drinking? Tsk.
Eames: *looks up at him, rolls her eyes* Not out drinking, no. Staying at home drinking, yes.
Logan: Staying in drinking? Oh, that's not healthy.
Eames: It's not? Seemed healthy enough to me.
Logan: How much did you drink?
Eames: I'm not sure, I wasn't keeping an eye on it.
Logan: Yeah, not healthy. I can't tell you how many brain cells I killed that way.
Eames: Is that what happened to them? I'd always wondered. *sarcasm*
Logan: Ha, ha, yuk it up. I'm only giving you good advice. *this from a man with baby vomit and cat hair on his suit*
Eames: Well, thanks, then. I'll try to keep it in mind.
Logan: So why were you crawling into a bottle?
Eames: *shrugs* I had to do something for my birthday, it seemed like the logical choice. *is being evasive, doesn't want to explain it*
Logan: Oh, it was your birthday? Why wasn't there cake in the break room? There should have been cake.
Eames: Sorry. I wasn't going to make my own birthday cake. That just seems wrong.
Logan:....I'll get some.
Eames: You will? *surprised and concerned there could be a prank somewhere in there*
Logan: Absolutely..... I love cake. Millie can't complain if I have a little piece of cake. I mean, it's just to be social. *is practically drooling.*
Eames: *chuckles, amused* I won't tell her you had cake.
Logan: What kind of cake?
Eames: *sort of smirks at him* Chocolate.
Logan: Okay....I know a bakery. I know a few bakeries.
Eames: I'm sure you do *small laugh* Thanks. *smile*
Logan: No problem...my pleasure, actually....*incoherent with greed at this point* I'll make the call....
Eames: *silently wonders if she'll get a piece of the cake before he has it all*
Logan: We can just put it in the breakroom....people go in and out. I'll get a big one. I don't trust Simmons. He looks like an eater.
Eames: *laughs* Yes, one of those geeks who have secret binges with cake and sweets,
Logan: Those skinny guys, they're the type...
Eames: In that case, I best make sure I get some first before it's all gone.
Logan: *satisfied he's placed sufficient evidence to point to Simmons, makes the call* I'll run out and get it on a coffee run. Cover for me with the Ross.
Eames: Will do. I'm sure Ross won't notice.
Logan: He's already pissed because he thinks I put up the picture of Mick Jagger with the post it that said "a Rolling Stone gathers no Ross"
Eames: *laughs* *gives him a look* And did you?
Logan: Yes, but that's no reason for him to think I did it.
Eames: *satisfied grin* No, of course not. What would make him think you were like that? *slight sarcasm* *chuckles* Well, he seems to have pride with that hair of his.
Logan: Pride? That thing must take more landscaping than my old man's lawn. It's not a hairdo, it's a topiary.
Eames: *laughs--has an image of Ross fixing his hair every morning* He probably spends more time on his hair than I do.
Logan: Probably. Unless it's a pet. Are we sure it's real?
Eames: *looks at him with a raise brow* What are you thinking it is? A wig or a poodle?
Logan: It could very well be MADE of poodle.
Eames: *grimaces at the thought* I hope I never find out.
Eames: *gives him a stern look* Don't get any ideas. We're not going to go and find out.
Logan: I wonder if Wheeler knows?
Eames: Why would she know? I'd assume if it were it wouldn't be something he'd tell people.
Logan: Hmmm. Now I have to know.
Eames: I'm not helping you. *determined look* I've argued enough with Ross this week without looking into the background of his hair.
Logan: You argued with him?
Eames: Ugh, yeah, about this case.
Logan: This case sucks.
Eames: *nods* Yeah...I'll be glad when it's over.
Logan: Millie wanted me to talk about my feelings.
Eames: Ouch. Not always the best kinda talk.
Logan: No. No, it wasn't.
Eames: That's a problem with being married, you have to talk about your feelings. *is seriously hoping he doesn't turn this conversation around*
Logan: I felt I didn't feel anything about it. Then I felt annoyed.
Eames: *frowns, doesn't understand what he said* About what? The case?
Logan: Yes, about the case. I felt like I was home from work.
Eames: *thinks about that for a moment* You mean as in you separate home from work completely?
Logan: Not when somebody's asking me questions. I told her I was not thinking about this stinkbomb of a case, that I arrested Nagler, and was gonna arrest Strickland. *pause* Don't you?
Eames: Don't I what?
Logan: Separate them.
Eames: *quietly* Usually... not this one though.
Logan: Why not?
Eames: I can't get it out my mind the way I normally can.. *shrugs, fiddles with pen*
Logan: Yeah, well. It was working for me, until I got a pile of questions at me.
Eames: I don't have anyone asking me questions.... you know she just cares. Millie probably thought you wanted to talk about it.
Logan: *raises an eyebrow* Are you serious?
Eames: It was intended seriously.
Logan: Would you THINK I wanted to talk about it?
Eames: No, but then I'm not your wife.
Logan: If you were my wife, wouldn't you know me better than that?
Eames: *gives him a look* If I were your wife, I'd have just given you the cold shoulder until you did talk about it.
Logan:...good thing you're not, then. I'd rather have the argument we had. And people wonder why I didn't marry someone my own age.
Eames: *snorts* I thought it was because there was shortage of available women around your age. *smirk, trying not to keep the conversation heavy*
Logan: Anyhow, stuff got said. This case is a real shitbucket.
Eames: *nods* Yeah... It seems to have taken a lot of time to piece together as well.
Logan: Well, who knew it was coming from up there - and no wonder the labs and the tech took so long!
Eames: Yeah. *sighs* Bastards. *grumbles a little, referring to Branch and Nagler, not the labs and techs*
Logan: And she wants to know if I feel sorry for him?
Eames: Who? Nagler?
Logan: Yeah, Nagler.
Eames: *snorts* I certainly don't feel sorry for him.
Logan: No, me neither. *quiet*
Logan: I had a friend. Went on the take. I turned him in.....she thought it was kind of like that. It wasn't.
Eames: The difference being Nagler wasn't your friend... *also quiet*
Logan: The difference is what and why. And who...maybe not who. My friend was just as bad, and that pisses me off. But why he took money and how...it's still different, or it feels different...I don't care.....I better go get that cake.
Eames: *nods* *also quietly* MJ was my friend. *trying to give him something for saying all that to her*
Logan: The victim shouldn't matter, should it? Should it? *trying to convince himself*.
Eames: She matters to me. And yes, the victim should matter.
Logan: I mean....a life is a life. *hard*
Eames: No one life is more important than another.
Logan: It's all well and good that Nagler's got some remorse now. Then would've been better.
Logan: I'll see you when I get back, okay?
Eames: *nods, quietly* Yeah.
Logan: Shitbucket of a case.
Eames: Yes. You can say that again.
Logan: Think I did.
Eames: *nods* I know.
Eames: *sits there, thinking, doesn't do any work*
Logan: *after awhile, comes back* Cake's in the breakroom. *hands her a little box* Here's a cupcake. Hide it to take home.
Eames: *smiles* Thank you. Have you already had some?
Logan: No, I'm waiting for you to cut it.
Eames: *takes the box, bigger smile* Thanks.
Logan: So hurry up and cut it already!
Eames: Right. *hurries off to the break room to cut the cake so he can eat it all* *cuts it and brings him back some as well – it’s got three inches of icing*
Eames: *hands it to him and smirks* Did you actually request the brick of icing?
Logan: It's mousse. It comes this way.
Eames: Because I love icing
Logan: Yes, I picked this one out - the benefits of age. Who cares anymore?
Eames: *chuckles* Not me.
Logan: *scarfs down cake - the breakroom cake was huge*
Eames: *eats some cake*
Logan: That's better.....even if Simmons attacks, there might be enough for everyone.
Eames: *smirks at him* Simmons isn't here at the moment. If you're lucky you'll get chance to beat him to the punch.
Eames: *chuckles* And I still won't tell anyone *meaning Millie* that you ate a ton of cake.