Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think.

Note: Eames's first name and Arthur's last will be taken from the actors that played them in this fanfic.

A Dangerous Job

Eames sat with his back to the wall, eyeing everyone and everything around him in the crowded bar. It was a hole in the wall, the kind of place where half the occupants had been in jail and the other half had just been too clever to be caught. The floors and tables were disgusting and stained, the health code violations numerous, and the thieves even more so. The food and drinks were lethal and health hazards, hence the fact that his drink sat where the scantily dressed waitress had put it.

Glancing down at the untouched glass Eames had to smile a little at himself. Half a decade ago he would have downed it no question, sure of his own toughness and too macho to show basic common sense. Now he was thinking he should have brought a bottle of water with him, the way Arthur would have.

He was getting strange looks from many of the occupants who weren't sure what to make of him. Once upon a time he would have fit right in, but the two years since he'd retired and gone relatively straight showed apparently. But there was still an aura around him that said ex military and badass, which would keep them off his back until his friend arrived.

Though friend was rather pushing it, Eames acknowledged, batting the glass between his hands for something to do. It would be more accurate to say that Dutch was a former comrade in arms who he owed a favor to. It was the owing that had him meeting the man at all since the meeting request probably involved a job of some sort. And if Dutch was asking for help the job had to be one major clusterfuck in the making. The man had his own dream team after all, no pun intended.

Leaning back in his chair Eames hoped he was wrong, but doubted it. And Arthur would not be pleased with him if he took a job that would potentially put his life and reputation at risk again.

Arthur.

Shaking his head Eames slid a hand into his trouser pocket, playing with the poker chip that was his totem while he woolgathered. That was another thing for him to worry about. His relationship with the other man was evolving, evolving to a point where he was fairly sure that the ground rules they'd agreed on at the start of their relationship could no longer apply.

They'd been together for…well fuck him sideways, Eames thought dumbly, taking a chug from his glass before he remembered why it had stayed untouched until that moment. Coughing at the drink's lethal kick, Eames could feel his eyes threaten to water as he tried to hide his reaction to the disgusting liquid he'd just put into his digestive system.

Pushing the glass as far away from his as it would go Eames tried to ignore the taste in his mouth while his thoughts, against his will, turned back to the startling realization that had caused him to drink the vile swill in the first place.

Technically they hadn't been together for six years, Eames reminded himself sternly, though that was when they'd first started sleeping together. But they hadn't been together or exclusive those first four years, when their jobs and travels had kept them apart for most of the year. It was these last two that had seen them together for months on end, rarely leaving each other for more than a couple weeks at a time. They were exclusive now, and they shared a living space and business together. They even had shared pets, two cats named Pippin and Merry. He'd wanted a dog but Arthur had stated that a dog needed a backyard they didn't have and one of their employees had emotionally blackmailed them into taking the two kittens off her hands.

They slept, ate, worked and played together.

According to Dom they were practically married.

Not a turn they had expected, that was for sure, Eames thought as his fingers tightened over his totem reflexively. They had hooked up after their first job together; Arthur had shown up at his hotel room after the job wondering if he could buy him dinner. Up until that moment the point man had shown little interest in him personally, so the invitation had come as a complete shock to him. He'd thought the man was kidding him, that Arthur's sense of humor was so hopeless that the man couldn't do better than that. Arthur's response to his obvious disbelief had been to snog his brains out and drag him to the hotel floor to prove his sincerity.

They'd never gotten to dinner, and come morning Arthur had made it clear that while he had no interest in a romantic relationship, he would be pleased to share a bed with him should the opportunity present itself in the future. And he'd made damn sure there were opportunities, Eames thought with a rakish grin, remembering those stolen times together with a great deal of fondness. The ground rules they'd set had been basic and agreeable to them both. They'd given each other their word that they would remain completely professional when doing business together, to not lie to the other, and to be faithful while they were sharing a bed.

And they'd kept that bargain for six years, with only a few slip ups in the no romance category. Those slip ups were starting to become more frequent and they both knew it. He wouldn't say they loved each other, but there were definitely complex feelings on both their parts now. A lot of complex feelings on his part, Eames thought with a sigh. Arthur was a hard man to read, especially where his softer emotions were concerned. It wasn't that he wanted the man to love him, Eames silently hastened to assure himself, but he thought they were only kidding themselves to pretend they hadn't built a life together.

Lost in those thoughts Eames almost missed the shift in the bar's atmosphere, but training kicked in and drew his attention to the doorway where people were eagerly moving out of a lone man's way.

Dutch.

)

His old acquaintance had aged well, a compact and well muscled army man who had always reminded Eames of a mountain lion. The man had a quiet, lethal grace that hinted with every movement that this was a predator shaped by nature, one that would not go down without bloodshed on a massive scale. He liked the man well enough, but didn't fool himself into thinking that their past acquaintance would keep Dutch from trying to snap his neck like a twig if the man thought he had a reason to. Or was paid to.

"Eames."

"Dutch."

The two men nodding Dutch took a seat to the forger's left, angling his chair as Eames had, so that his back was towards the wall. "Thanks for coming."

Knowing how Dutch felt about small talk Eames got straight to the point. "What do you need?"

A small twitch of the man's lips was the man's only indication that he appreciated the younger man's bluntness. "I've been hired for a job and when I give my word I keep it. As it stands now I won't be able to keep my word and complete the job to my employee's satisfaction."

Eames's surprise was written all over his face. Dutch was not the type to admit defeat, he was very much the die trying type. "Is that why you've called me in? You need a forger?"

The older man shook his head slightly in a small show of annoyance. "I would, but first I'd have to find the target. In a little under a decade seven teams have been hired for the purpose of apprehending and invading the dreams of the individual I'm looking for. Of those seven only two successfully captured him, and they couldn't get past the first dream level before his mind tore them to pieces. The two teams that managed to infiltrate his dreams only got access to him because they knew he'd be at a certain spot on a certain day, after the first two attempts he stopped coming, obviously. He's apparently had excessive training to shield his mind from intruders, it stands to reason his defenses have only been strengthened since then. Not that anyone can find him. The other five teams couldn't find him. My team will be the eighth if we haven't found him by our deadline."

Eames whistled low under his breath. Dutch's brother was one hell of a computer wiz, second only to Arthur in his experience. If this target could hide from the old soldier's brother, the man had some serious skills.

"Exactly. Matthew's devoted himself to the task and he's barely found anything. For all intents and purposes the target ceased to exist after the age of twenty four."

"Okay, so where do I come in then, Mate? That kind of thing is not my strong suit."

"I know. But I kept an eye on you through the years, you were the competition after all, and the rumors are you worked multiple jobs with Excalibur."

Eames blinked, confused for a moment before he remembered that Excalibur was the online name Arthur had used and still did occasionally when he was working solo jobs. In the old days Dom had been the front man when it came to arranging jobs for him and Arthur, rarely even introducing his point man to their employers. But Arthur had occasionally taken computer jobs to supplement their income when needed and had preferred those jobs not to be tied to the work he did with Dom.

And reading between the lines Eames had no problem seeing where this was going. "You want me to contact him and ask him to find your target? Not bloody likely, sorry. Excalibur has retired, as you would know."

"Money wouldn't be an object."

"Money isn't a problem for him." Eames drawled out knowingly. "Give me what you've got on the target and I can pass it along, but I wouldn't hold your breath."

Dutch gave the man a hard look. "You trust him?"

"With my life."

After a couple moments of thoughtful silence Dutch slid a hand into his jacket, taking no offense when Eames tensed up at the action. He'd have thought less of the man if he hadn't. Pulling out a folded piece of paper Dutch tossed it across the table to Eames. "The basics are there. If Excalibur is half as good as they say he is that should be all he needs."

Unfolding the sheet Eames's eyes zeroed in on the name, all his training required as he fought and succeeded to conceal his reaction to the name listed at the top of the page.

Arthur Gordon-Levitt.

Forcing his eyes to read the basics Eames set his jaw as he read the age and physical description of the target, wanting to hit something when he got to identifying marks. There it described the freckles that dotted the man's outer right thigh, resembling Orion's belt in their placement. Marks he had traced with his fingers, mouth and tongue too many times for him to count.

His lover had dropped the Gordon part, but had kept the Levitt.

Refolding the piece of paper Eames shoved the sheet into his pocket, forcing himself to appear ambivalent about the whole thing as he met Dutch's gaze head on, wondering in the back of his mind if this was a test or if they planned to use him as bait. Perhaps they thought he would lead them back to Arthur, either willingly or by force.

"Who hired you?"

If Dutch sensed anything amiss his face and words revealed nothing. "My employer wishes to remain anonymous."

Eames knew better than to push the issue. Dutch wasn't the type who could be goaded or tricked into giving anything away. The man was far too good for that. And staying in the man's company was too dangerous, his emotions were already threatening to break through the surface of his vaguely interested mask. His heart and mind were screaming for him to get back Arthur, he needed to see and speak to the man, to guard and protect his lover from the very deadly and militaristic team that was even now hunting for him.

Getting to his feet Eames held out a hand to Dutch, forcing himself to shake the man's hand. "I'll see if he's interested. Either way, I'll consider my debt to you repaid."

Because if they did find Arthur somehow, he wasn't going to hesitate to put a bullet in their heads.

)

It was almost midnight the next day when Eames arrived in Las Vegas. It stood to reason that if they'd truly made the connection between him and Arthur they wouldn't need to follow him to find the other man, but he wasn't taking any chances. He'd made a brief call to Arthur on their secure line after his talk with Dutch, confirming that his lover was all right and would be in protected lockdown until he arrived home. The former point man hadn't been happy about it, but he'd given his word and Arthur would keep it.

The casino he and Arthur had bought together eighteen months ago wasn't the fanciest girl on the strip, but she was getting there, Eames thought with absent pride. Arthur wouldn't have it any other way. They already had a good, solid rep started, their security tight and a classy atmosphere guaranteed. The class was all Arthur of course, Eames was fairly sure it would have retained its dive look if the other man hadn't been his business partner.

Owning a casino had always been his retirement dream, and he'd never stop being grateful that Arthur had asked to share it with him.

Parking his sports car in his owner's spot Eames locked it up and then headed inside, pleased to see they were busy as he nodded to various employees and regulars. Normally he would have stopped to chat, play catch up, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. For now his only concern was getting to the third level of the building which contained their living quarters.

Heading for the elevator reserved for their use only Eames pressed in the security code, swiping his card and pressing his hand against the fingerprint recognition pad to finish the deal. A little extreme, but they both had powerful enemies to protect against, just in case.

Better safe than sorry tended to be a favorite saying of Arthur's.

When the doors opened into their living room Eames automatically reached out to his left to type in his code. That completed he scanned the area, looking for signs that something might have happened while he was away. Retrieving the gun he'd tucked into his back Eames unlocked the safety and kept it at his side as he silently made his way through the room, taking it all in. He had just finished looking over the space when he sensed a change in the air, a knowing that he was no longer alone.

But knowing who it was Eames kept his weapon pointed at the ground while he turned to meet Arthur's cool gaze. There was a gun in the man's hand as well, its position mirroring his own. The point man wore trousers and had a towel around his neck, he'd obviously caught the man just coming out of the shower.

"You better have a good reason to put me under house arrest, Eames. My assistant isn't trained well enough to be handling the reins for me yet."

Moving with ground eating strides Eames came to a halt in front of the other man, reaching up with his free hand to cup the back of Arthur's head, forcing the point man to move it down so that their lips could meet in a hungry, powerful kiss that spoke of great relief and need.

And picking up on the man's mood Arthur put his gun's safety back on and set it on a nearby table, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist as soon as both his hands were free. Surrendering himself to his lover Arthur offered up whatever Eames needed from him, molding his body to the tougher shape of his man.

When he'd drunk his fill of the other man's mouth Eames reluctantly broke off the kiss, nuzzling his cheek against the other man's before pulling back. "Let me see your arms."

"My arms?" Realizing where Eames was going with this Arthur shook his head at the idea that someone might have invaded his dreams without him knowing. But in the mood Eames was in Arthur knew better than to argue and held out his arms for inspection while the forger turned on the hallway lights and set down his own gun.

Running his fingers over the other man's skin Eames sighed in relief to see no signs of a needle mark. "Good." Looking up to meet the man's questioning gaze Eames worked up a smile as he fluttered his lashes teasingly. "Have I mentioned how stunning you look wet, Darling?"

"Merry knocked a glass of red wine all over me." And not about to be deterred Arthur wrapped his arms around the man's waist again, drawing the man close as his seeking eyes peered into Eames's. "So what's going on? Something happened with Dutch?" To say the man had a dangerous reputation was an understatement. He'd never had the pleasure, and hoped to keep it that way. He had not been pleased to hear that his lover owed the man a favor.

"He's looking for a target and his team can't find him. He's calling in the favor I owe him to pass the search off to you. Dutch hopes maybe Excalibur can succeed where Matt's failed so far."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. He knew Dutch's brother's reputation, the man was highly skilled at what he did. Not as good as him of course, but the hacker had some serious talent. Whoever the target was, Arthur mused, the man must have a great deal of money and resources to hide from such well trained hunters.

"Who are they looking for?"

"You."