Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy.

Cat Burglar

Opening his eyes Eames quickly took stock of his surroundings, recognizing the warehouse that he was in and the chair he was sitting in. A bloody uncomfortable one, which he probably had Arthur to thank for, the forger thought ruefully as he automatically turned his head to look for his team's point man, finding him awake as well and in the process of stretching out his arms. Meeting the man's gaze Eames offered him a saucy grin, loving the fact that Arthur sniffed in his 'lord of the manor' way and turned his back on him.

He did so love toying with the other man.

Unhooking himself Eames stretched as well and then checked the time, smiling when he saw that he wasn't too late to catch the game on the telly if he hurried. Most excellent.

"That it for the day then?" Eames asked Dom, grin widening when the other man nodded. "Well in that case I'm off to watch the game." His impish side had him giving Arthur a flirty look, throwing in a wink for good measure. "Care to come back with me, Darling? We're missing what's sure to be one hell of a bloody good football game at the moment."

"Thanks but there's a soccer game I'm hoping to catch." Was the point man's oh so sweet reply.

Blood pressure rising, especially since he knew Arthur did it on purpose, Eames scowled. "It's not called bloody soccer! When are you damn Yanks…it's football!"

"Soccer."

"Football!"

Back and forth the two went as they collected their stuff before heading for the exit, leaving their teammates to watch them with varying degrees of amusement.

"What was that all about?" Ariadne asked, Yusuf glad she'd asked since he was curious as well.

Dom smirked. "One of the few things those two have in common is that they love English football, aka American soccer. They both played when they were younger and they actually cheer for the same professional team. Arthur likes to drive Eames mad by calling it soccer just to piss him off."

"Ah." Nodding in understanding Yusuf was about to comment on the fact that he'd never been into sports much himself when something else occurred to him. "Drat, I forgot to ask the two of them if they experienced anything different in their dream sessions. I've been experimenting a little, trying to increase their awareness of the other to see if that makes it easier for them to move between their dreams."

"Well tomorrow they'll have watched their game and gotten a good night's sleep." Dom pointed out even as he covertly gave the chemist a look that made it clear he didn't want the man talking about 'experimenting' on them around Ariadne. "They should be more inclined to work together and answer your questions provided their team wins."

)

Eames' Dream

Absently rolling his shoulders as he walked down the dark, deserted hallway, Eames told himself to head back to the guest bedroom even as he continued to head towards the stairs that would take him down to the first floor. His destination was the weight room which was situated in the house's basement, the original thought being that he could work himself over to the point where he'd be too tired not to sleep. But since he'd been trying to do precisely that for the last three nights without success Eames knew he was on a fool's errand.

He hated the idea of taking sleeping aids, and the workout would at least benefit him to a certain extent, but he wasn't so stupid that he thought he wasn't headed for serious trouble if he didn't get his head on straight. As a professional athlete he needed to be in top form physically and mentally and he just wasn't. Thus far his team had not been doing well, the fans and media were on them like rabid dogs, and as icing on the cake he was starting to see playing football as a job instead of the game he'd always loved more than anything, even sex.

And saying so had lost him more lovers than he cared to think about it.

Shaking his head at the thought Eames's lips were about to curve ruefully when he sensed the change in the air, a knowing that he'd developed since he'd become good enough to be watched and hunted by the bloody media whenever they got the chance.

He was being watched and there wasn't supposed to be anyone else in the house.

The eyes on him had been fleeting, and a little voice in his head was telling him that maybe he was so tired he was imagining things, but his gut said no and that the quick but intense look had not been a product of his mind.

Someone else was in the house.

Acting as though nothing was wrong Eames continued to move forward, his gaze straight ahead, knowing that the eyes had come from the dark hallway in front of him. Turning when he reached the stairs Eames walked all the way down them and then turned to wait, wanting to see what the unknown person was up to, mentally keeping track of the time as he waited two minutes before surmising that it wasn't him the man or woman was there to see. A burglar then? His friend Dom, who owned the house, was an art collector and had some pretty valuable pieces in his collection.

Not about to let his friend be robbed, and he wasn't going to call the guarda in unless he could confirm this wasn't a wild goose chase, Eames quietly slinked back up the stairs and made his way into the hallway, his ears tuned for the slightest noise that might indicate he was nearing his intended prey.

There was no warning, he didn't notice that one of the doors was open until it was too late, a shadow suddenly moving out of the doorway and then a prick as something was injected into his neck before he hand a chance to defend himself.

Everything went dark.

)

Waking up groggily Eames became aware of his situation slowly, registering the fact that he was in shadowy darkness thanks to the open drapes nearby. Shaking his head as he tried to clear it Eames's body tensed as he recalled what had happened, adrenaline clearing his head quickly now as he took in the fact that he was in Dom's study and that he appeared to be lying on the floor handcuffed, with his hands behind his back and the chain part threaded through the fireplace grate. He hadn't been gagged and his feet weren't tied, not that either fact would save him at the moment.

"You're awake already. Good."

The voice was male and American, Eames turning his head towards the built in bookcase, only just able to make out the shadowy shape of the man who'd drugged him. "And why is that good, pray tell?" He wasn't going to betray for a moment that he at all feared what the man intended to do to him now that he was physically restrained.

"I wasn't going to leave until I was sure you'd be all right, you being awake means I won't have to wait. People react to drugs in different ways, and I'd hate to harm one of my favorite soccer players."

"I don't play bloody soccer, I play football, you damn Yank." He hated the fact that the Americans had decided they could just up and screw with the name of his beloved game and was never shy about saying so. Belatedly remembering the rest of it Eames's straightened slightly. "And since I'm one of your favorite football players I suppose you have no interest in ending my career prematurely?"

A low, rather sexy chuckle was the other man's response. "You're safe from harm, Mr. Eames. If I put my hands on you my intent wouldn't be violence." A pause to let that sink in. "I'm almost done here and then I'll leave."

Okay, it was probably horribly wrong to be sexual intrigued by a man who'd drugged and handcuffed him, but Eames had to admit…he was feeling the sizzle that they were starting to generate between them now that he knew the man was interested in him. It had been far too bleeding long since he'd had a decent shag, and the danger the other man presented was reeving him up in more ways than one.

"So you're a thief then?"

"Your friend would say so, though what I've come to take was stolen in the first place."

Straining his eyes as he tried to see what the man was up to Eames remained quiet as the thief went back to what he was doing with a small penlight that illuminated the book titles but didn't cast enough light to reveal anything about its holder.

And then he heard the sound of a book being removed from its place, the crinkle of paper, and then the sound of the book being slid back into place.

"All this for a piece of paper?"

While Eames watched the thief turned off the penlight and then started towards him, the way he moved reminding him of a cat so that Eames decided to change his mental label to that of cat burglar since that suited his mystery man better.

"The value of the paper…well let's just say you could ask your friend next time you see him, but he won't tell you since he won't be reporting any of this to your police. Wouldn't want them knowing he was buying stolen property after all."

Watching the man move to straddle him, something he definitely didn't object to, Eames remained still as leather covered fingers cupped his cheeks, the man's breath on his lips as he lowered his head. "And sorry about this, but before I go there really is just one thing I have to do."

Opening his mouth to inquire as to what that was Eames found the words lost in his throat as the other man's lips pressed against his in a fierce, passionate kiss that translated to him being reduced to a puddle of sizzling, moaning goo very quickly. And that was before his cat added his tongue to the equation.

Moaning low in his throat when the other man pulled away from the kiss after fully exploring his mouth, Eames cursed the fact that he couldn't grab the man and take charge of the situation. Instead, he had to use words.

"I didn't say you could stop snogging my brains out, Darling. Get back to it."

There was a pause and then a chuckle. "Lucky you I read the Harry Potter books, so I know what you just said."

And then those lips were back on his and Eames made his approval obvious by snogging the man with everything he had, adding teeth and tongue to the equation for good measure. He'd always been the type to play with fire so to speak, and it had been far too long since he'd been burned this good. They were only kissing, for fuck's sake, but he was hard as a bleeding rock.

His sexy little thief was obviously feeling the heat too, given the fact that he was moaning like a first rate porn star despite the fact that they hadn't even rounded first base yet.

Or so Eames thought until he belatedly clued into the fact that his kitty cat was now straddling one of his thighs, rubbing his erection against the hard muscle there to pleasure himself while they snogged. And that had him moaning right back, suddenly needing to know what sounds the other man would make if he was riding something else. Something that was aching painfully and more than ready to be ridden as it happened.

Hormones taking over the reins Eames broke off the kiss to place several quick kisses along the man's firm jaw until his lips were close to the thief's ear, nipping it hard before whispering in it. "How about riding something a lot more fun, Darling?"

Going still Eames heard the quiver in the man's voice. "Are you asking what I think you're asking?"

"Pretty sure I am."

"Holy shit." Silence. "Holy shit. You are. Oh fuck, dammit. I don't do one night stands! I don't do the casual and…and shit you're Tom Eames! You're numero uno on my list of famous men I'd empty my bank account for a chance at. Hell, you replaced BECKHAM on my list, though that's partly because I'd at least have a chance with you since he's straight and married. I've got this thing about your mouth though and…crap…I'm working here. Are you serious? You really want to fuck me?"

Eames couldn't help but laugh, completely charmed at the way his cool and professional thief had been turned into an adorable, even more appealing man who fancied him more than Beckham. "I'm not one for the one night stand either, Darling…but yes, I want you riding my cock the way you were riding my thigh so bad I can fucking taste it."

"Oh man." Leaning forward the thief pressed close to Eames for another hard, eager kiss before drawing back, nipping Eames's bottom lip before nodding. "I'm going to kick myself for being this foolhardy for hours later, but to hell with it." Another kiss. "And lucky us, your friend apparently entertains his women in here. I found his stash earlier." The thief added, Eames having to bit back a whimper as the other man smoothly got to his feet and out of his reach. "Be right back."

Desperately watching the man walk over to Dom's desk and open one of the drawers Eames couldn't believe he was doing this even as he accepted the fact that he was prepared to beg if that's what it took to convince his cat to fuck him. So much for his determination to not fall into the stereotype about professional athletes and their perchance for one night stands.

And oh crap. "Uhm…can I have a first name and your age, Darling? You don't have to tell me anything else."

"Why would that be important?" The thief asked as he came back over, a smile in his voice.

"Because I promised my mum I'd never sleep with someone whose name, age, and occupation I didn't know."

Laughter greeted his words, Eames biting back a groan when he felt the other man's hands start to pull down his sweatpants, automatically lifting his hips to make it easier. And then he heard the sound of packing being ripped, completely forgetting all about the name issue as he felt the condom being slid over his erection.

The sound of his cat burglar's zipper being undone finished off his ability to hold a thought that didn't have to do with sex.

"Arthur. Almost thirty one."

In some part of his brain Eames processed that, but again the majority of his focus went to what the other man's hands were up to, deliriously happy when he felt the man's newly bared hand wrap around his length to distribute the lube Dom had apparently been storing in the desk as well, thank you, God. And it just got that much better when his soon to be lover stopped preparing him and turned his attention to preparing himself, Eames having to actively fight back his impending orgasm as he listened to the little sounds the other man made in the back of his throat as he used his own fingers to work himself loose.

It was probably for the best that he couldn't see what the man was doing or he would have embarrassed himself.

And though he knew it wasn't going to happen Eames had to ask anyway, too used to dominating and being the aggressor not to. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to unchain me so that I could participate more?" Not to mention this was going to be annoying short if they rushed it like this and he had the definite feeling they'd both be missing out.

"No, I haven't lost all my common sense, just the majority of it." Was the man possibly named Arthur's response, the words panted out and heavy with need. "But I'll make it up to you."

Licking his lips at the promise Eames couldn't want to have his present circumstances made up to him and he didn't have to wait long. Apparently his thief was just as eager, he barely got a few more kissed and stroking touches over his chest before the other man got down to the main event so to speak.

The man's ass still tight enough to make Eames's eyes all but roll back in his head as the other man's hand guided him inside of his hot little hole, not being nearly as slow as he probably should. Fuck but his thief was wet and hot and squeezing all around him so strongly that he was afraid to move before Arthur gave him the go ahead.

Cursing a blue streak made Eames feel a little better, his hands in fists and his whole body taunt as a bow as he waited to be fully seated, panting out the man's name in question when he was fully sheathed.

"Now I make it up to you."

And that was an understatement.

Unable to do more than try and jerk his lower half up in time with the other man's thrusts Eames's head dropped back, eyes closed since they were useless as he lost himself in his other senses, ears ringing with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and cries of need and pleasure that slipped through both their lips as Arthur angled his body just right. The hands pressed against his chest that were being used to control the thrusts seemed to burn into his flesh, seeming to claim it as his own as he was ridden to the ground with a thoroughness that guaranteed this was going to be a memorable encounter even without all the other stuff.

He was right about that too, especially since shortly after the explosive orgasms that had them both seeing stars and cursing quite fluently, the thief cleaned up after them, straightened him up so to speak, and then left him handcuffed there with the promise that if his team won nationals he'd dropped in on him again.

Talk about giving him something to look forward to.

Cause payback was going to be a bitch.

)

Okay, so each dream will be from Arthur or Eames's perspective, suggestions are welcome as to situations/characters/storylines you'd like to see them end up in.