Gabriel was aware that Eddy could probably see right through his facade, but at least he was kind enough not to say so.  And if Eddy did ever call Gabriel on his affections, he would deny them completely.  Paul and he were not a couple, were not together outside the confines of professional agreement.  There were no long vacations, no dates, nothing that constituted a relationship beyond business.<br/><br/>And that was fine.  Neither he nor Paul were built for that sort of thing.  They merely sometimes sought out each other's company-- or rather, Gabriel waited until Paul returned to him, and enjoyed his presence for however brief the time.  Most people found Paul cold, calculating, sadistic even; Gabriel wouldn't disagree with that assessment, but the flaws in the man made him so much more tantalizing, so much more like himself, and he had been unwillingly smitten since the first time they had spoken.  He could tell what kind of man Paul was just by looking him in the eye.<br/><br/>"Ah," he murmured, raising his drink back to his lips; he was finishing it faster than he'd anticipated, would need to pace himself.  "The art world takes him many places."  Paris, London, Berlin... They were names on a map to Gabriel, meaningless except for the fact they existed, but they stood out in his mind because Paul had been there.  He absently fixed one of his rolled-up sleeves, his scars peeking out under the fabric-- old and whitened over time, they spiderwebbed out from the bend in his arm, a testament to his years as an addict.<br/><br/>"How's your little business doing?"  The term 'little' didn't really fit.  Gabriel had been in the bar only once, and it was smaller than his apartment, tiny and dark.  A cave that Eddy hunkered down into, his haven from humanity.  Gabriel had liked it, but he was far too invested in his own place to spend much time haunting others.