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Jimmy is, both surprisingly and not surprisingly, a very good listener. He remembers tidbits of conversations around the safehouse, things someone said on a heist, and even remembers what most would consider the most boring of Duke’s talks about art and music.
The first time Jimmy asks Duke about Rembrandt, Duke almost trips over himself in shock that Jimmy actually had retained information from that conversation three weeks ago.
"Yeah, was, uh," Jimmy snaps his fingers a few times. "A boat! Rembrandt painted it, uh, boat on a stormy sea." He grins, sliding Duke a glass of scotch- a much higher quality one than he usually has on hand. When Duke takes a sip, he realizes that Jimmy must have specifically gotten this scotch for him.
"'S the right kind, yeah? Had to triple check the name…" The disheveled man looks uncharacteristically nervous, chewing on a few strands of hair.
Oh. He remembered that it's my favorite-
"Yes, I am a bit surprised you remembered. I appreciate you having Aldstone get this for me."
"Ah, well, I actually went 'n got it meself." Jimmy stretches out across the bar, fingers grabbing at the opposite edge. "Want'd make sure, was the uh, the right juice."
Duke doesn't know how to feel about that, but the warm feeling he gets from it is unmistakable, and he nods with a raise of his glass. "Well, it is much appreciated. Thank you, Jimmy."
He processes that Jimmy called the scotch juice a moment later, and chooses to not comment on it.
“You wanted to know about the Rembrandt painting?” Duke says after a moment. He’s curious, never having expected Jimmy of all the heisters to ask about paintings.
“Yeah, like-” Jimmy adjusts himself on his stool, nearly falling out for a second as he does so. He looks almost offended when he glances at the stool before shaking his head and sitting back down. “What- what uh, paint type w’s it?” Jimmy snaps his fingers for a bit.
“The type-”
“The medium!” Jimmy grins, pointing at Duke. “What medium was it? Love the way the light looks.”
“Rembrant used oil paints when he painted. I believe the painting you are talking about is The Storm on the Sea of Galilee, painted in 1633.” Duke takes another sip of scotch, watching Jimmy. He’s a bit surprised to see that Jimmy is invested in this, having taken an inquisitive stare, a hand supporting his chin. “It was one of his earliest paintings. Unfortunately, it was stolen and the whereabouts have been unknown since, so I have never gotten to see it in person.”
“Damn, woulda lov’d t’ see it,” Jimmy sighs. “We’ll ‘ave to get Bain on it! Find it for ourselves!”
Duke chuckles. He wouldn’t doubt that Bain would enjoy that kind of search. “It would be quite a sight, yes. Say, did you know there are different types of oil paint?”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, some dry a bit faster than others. Some lose more color than others over time.”
Jimmy nods, thinking. “That makes sense, s’chemistry ‘nd all.” He scratches his cheek and hums to himself for a moment. “Do y’ know how t’make any?”
“Oil paints?” Duke leans back. He had studied various methods in the past, and had even done some experimentation, but… “It has been quite a while, though I do not think I could call those attempts successful.”
“Do you paint?”
Duke barks a laugh. “Ah, I do, my friend. Not as much as I would like. Unfortunately, I have not gotten any paints I like as of late.” He takes another sip of scotch, letting a pleased sigh into the air. It’d been a while since he’d had a good scotch, let alone his favorite. “I do love oil paints, however I will admit, I prefer using watercolors right now.”
Somehow, he misses the glint in Jimmy’s eyes. “Watercolors, eh?”
“There is something very calming about them.” Duke says. “I am curious. Is there any reason you’re asking?”
“Ah, well-” Jimmy turns to the bar, reaching over and pulling out a vodka for himself. He inspects it before shaking his head and standing up. “Not in a vodka mood,” he says, going around to look closer at the drinks.
“I have never been a vodka man, myself.” Duke says.
“To ‘ach their own. Not f’everyone.” A moment later, Jimmy pulls out a bottle of Brandy and grins. “Somethin’ a lil’ more flavorful. Want a glass?”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
“Ice, no ice?”
“Ah, whichever is fine.”
Jimmy fixes Duke with a blank, almost annoyed stare, before dropping two ice cubes into a glass and pouring the brandy. “‘Ere ‘ou go.” He pours himself one before sitting. “Ah- yeah, was just lookin’ at paintings again. Never really got time to look at art in the lab. Started missin’ it.”
“That is quite understandable. Something to feed the soul.”
Jimmy nods and raises his glass. "Dim labs don't do well for the mind if ya never leave 'em."
"What forms do you enjoy?"
Pursing his lips, Jimmy contemplates for a while. "'ave to admit, I never knew much about the arts. Always just appreciated, especially stained glass." Duke hums in agreement. "But," Jimmy continues, "I always loved Bosch."
"Ah! Hiernonymous Bosch, I could tell you a few things about him, if you would like."
"Oh, I'd love that!"
Duke examined everything with a keen eye, and the documents they’d retrieved on the latest heist were no different. Underneath bright desk lamps, each document and its copy were scrutinized for information useful to Bain or himself.
Though, those bright lamps were strenuous on his eyes.
Just as Duke considers taking a break, a loud, frantic knock at the door startles him, the jump sending a lamp careening to the floor. “Great Caesar’s Ghost!” he shouts as he opens the door. “What could be-”
Jimmy grins mischievously, hiding something behind his back. “‘Ello.”
Duke sighs, relaxing. “Jimmy, hello. What are you up to? No good, I presume.”
“Oh, ya’ know.” Jimmy chuckles a bit. “Jus’ a bit of chemistry.”
“Chemistry?”
Jimmy’s gaze goes behind Duke to the lamp, and he frowns. “I ‘ope you’re not burnin’ you’re eyes out. Light’s too damn bright.”
Duke turns and nods, turning the lamps off as he tidies up. “I tend to get lost in my work. I have plans to get better lights, but I lose track of time.”
“Ah, that’ve done too many times.” He looks around a bit. “Uh, may I come in?”
“Oh, yes, come right in. Sit down, if you would like.” Duke motions to a chair, and Jimmy awkwardly steps in, looking a bit bashful. He’s visibly admiring the decor, leaning a bit closer to look at book titles and statues.
“What brings you here, friend? You seemed quite… frantic at the door.” Duke says, watching as Jimmy reads over a spine.
He perks up, turning. “Ah, yes, a gift for you!” He pulls his hands out from behind his back to present a rectangular box. Carefully, Duke takes it, looking at the grain on the wood.
“This is very well made. Where did you get this?” The wood is aged, well cared for. He can see that it’s been sealed with a lacquer, but is overall still in its natural state. The hinges are aged- bronze, he thinks, but after a closer look, he thinks steel. Regardless, they're solid.
“Ah, Bonnie does a bit of brewing- one of ‘er old kegs was busted ‘n I asked if she could make a box with it. Told ‘er the plans ‘nd she was pretty excited ‘bout it.”
The archivist glances up, and Jimmy motions for him to open it.
Placing it on a table, Duke opens the lid carefully, eyes widening as it reveals 3 tiers of flat shelves, the top and middle containing fine pigments within small glass jars. The bottom holds two rags, a dropper, and a set of paintbrushes.
"Where did you get these?" Duke asks in awe. He tenderly examines one of the brushes, carved from smooth wood with his name etched into the handle, the bristles made of fine horsehair. After a moment, he lifts one of the jars to examine the pigments. The one in his hand is a brilliant ultramarine, shimmering slightly as he turns it. "These- there are extremely high quality. They would cost a fortune for most."
Jimmy looks bashful, smiling. "Well, uh, I was thinkin' about the lab, decided to do some tinkering. Old habits die hard, 'n well…" he trails off when Duke looks up at him. "I thought it'd be nice- er, thought you'd like some new paints."
"You… made these?"
"'M not too sure how well they'll paint, can read as much as I want, but without them bein' used…"
Duke turns back to the pigments, amazed. "Jimmy, I- thank you so much."
"You like 'em?" The man looks hopeful, his fingers toying with a button on his shirt.
"I do, I love them."
An heavy tension leaves Jimmy’s body and he smiles. "Good, I- well, if you use em-"
"I will."
"When you use 'em, I'd love to see what you paint."
An idea pops into Duke’s head, and he smiles. "I will have to get some inspiration. Perhaps we go for a walk?"
Jimmy's grin stretches from ear to ear.
It's late in the evening when Jimmy decides to leave the bar and head back to his room. As he stands, he notices a note on the counter- someone must have placed it there while he was dozing off. Upon glancing at the writing, he recognizes Duke’s penmanship.
Meet me at my study before you retire for the evening. I have a surprise for you.
Eagerly, Jimmy hurries to the study, only pausing once he's at the door.
He's felt an odd anxiety ever since he and Duke went for their walk. Sometimes he would get a sense he did something wrong- or said something wrong. He didn't want to ask, as he'd like to believe Duke genuinely liked his present, but he wondered if he'd overstepped.
Swallowing, Jimmy knocks, telling himself it'd be fine.
"Ah, Jimmy, come in." Duke smiles and holds the door open as he steps to the side.
When Jimmy steps in, he sees the box of watercolors out. "Usin' em?"
"Yes! I actually wanted to give you this."
In Duke’s hands is a watercolor painting, one of the two of them at Jimmy’s bar.
"Oh-"
He looks closer, admiring the fine details. A few of the bottles have more defined labels, and he can specifically recognize Duke’s favorite scotch, the Brandy they'd drank the night he'd gotten the idea for the gift, and a few others Jimmy enjoyed. There's a bit of a golden hue on the edges of the red shirt Jimmy was wearing, and the lights of the bar seem to glow off the page.
"I found a bit of gold leafing to use for your shirt, and Sydney recommended using… ah, UV reactive paint? I chose to use a bit of a silver undertone for the lights instead."
"It's beautiful ," Jimmy breathes. "Are you sure I can 'ave this?"
"Of course! I painted it for you."
Jimmy wants to cry, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the sheer kindness. He swallows thickly, nodding to himself. "Thank you, thank you-" He looks up at Duke, grinning through misty eyes. "'ll have to get this framed. Put it somewhere nice."
"Ah, I am quite glad you like it."
"You said, eh, you used gold leafing?"
"I did, yes."
"'ou'll 'ave to tell me more 'bout that. Sounds fascinating."
Duke laughs, saying something like, "not that fascinating", but Jimmy waves him off. "I like list'nin' to you talk."
A heavy blush appears on Duke’s face, and he coughs into his hand. "Well, we will have to set up a time, then. I believe it is a bit late."
"Yea, yea! Absolutely. Thank you-"
The archivist doesn't quite believe Jimmy will hang up the painting, but is still a bit saddened when he doesn't see it. However, after Jimmy drags the man to his room to retrieve the book he used for making the paints, Duke sees the painting again.
Neatly in a wooden frame, it hangs just across from Jimmy’s bed. "First thing I see when I wake up." Jimmy says when he notices Duke looking. "Makes gettin' out of bed a bit easier."
He can't find the words to say anything, but Duke still resolves to make him another one.