Chapter two! I hope you like it- review and let me know!

They arrived stateside with a few hours to spare before their guest flew in. The apartment was just as they left it, not a thing out of place.

This was probably Eames' favorite of all their flats- London, San Francisco, Mombasa, and Paris. The early evening light cast moats of warmth across the dark wood floors, and the tall bookcases made the dark green walls look decorated, but not too personal.

Maybe he loved it because he was with Arthur, but it just felt like home.

"I'm gonna lock up the guns." Arthur called as he dropped his bag in the front hall. "What kind of booze do we have?"

"Wine, that old champagne, a bit of scotch..." Eames rattled off as the point man pulled back a few stacks of books above the sofa- standing on it quite adorably. "The usual stuff, I suppose."

"Yeah, she'll like that. Maria's not a huge drinker, anyway." He huffed out a breath and got down off the sofa, guns carefully stowed. Eames frowned a little.

Arthur was not the type for sharing and caring. When something was bothering him, it was like pulling teeth. At least, it was for most people, if Arthur was uncomfortable, or didn't trust the person, or that person wasn't Eames. Most of the time. That's the way it had been when they first met, even when they had first gotten together. It still happened sometimes, and the point man would draw in on himself.

The forger came up behind the other man, wrapping his arms around the point man's waist. "Everything alright, my Love?"

"Fine." He placed his hands over the forger's placatingly, squeezing them before pushing gently from his hold. "I'm fine, Eames." There was a long moment of silence, dejected and starting to feel like part of the furniture. Arthur disappeared into the master bedroom with a suitcase in each hand, leaving Eames in the living room reaching for someone who wasn't there anymore.

They had been fine this morning- more than fine- and Arthur had seemed happy at the idea of seeing his sister.

Eames poured himself a fifth of scotch and sat down on the sofa, rubbing his eyes. He nursed the glass for an undetermined amount of time, watching the dust moats in the shafts of sun.

Arthur was unpacking, he presumed. Ever the productive one. When they first met- Eames a few years out SAS and working his way through a few art forgeries in Rome, and Arthur fresh out of the Marine Corp, not even 20 years old and looking even younger, with a PASIV in his hand and Mal to guide him- Arthur's intense work ethic seemed almost compulsive. He was really quite mellow now, but the old Arthur, from their first job in Rome, would sometimes rear his stiff, anxious head.

"I'm sorry." He almost choked on the drink when he heard it. Arthur was the sneakiest ninja of a human being he'd ever known. The younger man stood sheepishly in the entryway from the back hallway, and Eames quickly got his bearings. "I haven't seen my family in years. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that it's Maria, if anyone, but... I've changed a lot, and I didn't leave on good terms... I don't know what'll happen."

His fingers itched to check his totem. Was this really happening? Arthur, opening up to him without prompting? They'd been getting better at this, but it usually still took a few days of slowly building tension and stand offish retorts. The forger reached out a hand and beckoned the younger man to join him on the sofa. "Drink?"

"No. I should go soon." He sat down beside him, all tense shoulders and a creased brow. "Maria's flight gets in in less than an hour-"

"And the airport is quite close by. You'll still make it if you stay a couple more minutes." Eames placed a palm on the back of the American's neck, squeezing reassuringly. A corner of Arthur's mouth turned up wryly, and he leaned himself softly against Eames on the sofa. The forger wrapped his arm around him and dropped a kiss into his beautifully gel-less hair. "I'm sure this will turn out just fine in the end, Pet. Just you wait."

It didn't serve to make the point man feel any better, but he still let himself snuggle closer in Eames' hold, breathing in the homey scent of honey, newsprint, and cigar smoke. The forger stroked a hand down his spine and held him tight for a long few moments, when a thought struck him.

"Arthur, does your family know about us?" The point man tensed in his arms and sat up to look at him.

"I believe so. I told my dad, and I told Maria. They must've told Sharon, Rose, and Sarah at some point, they can't keep secrets for shit." He fixed Eames with a bemused look. "Why?"

"I just wanted to make sure, before your sister walks in that door and sees a strange man making dinner in her brother's apartment." He grinned, feeling Arthur's smile warm him inside. The feeling spread through every fiber of his being when the younger man reached out and interlaced their fingers. He lifted the paler hand and kissed the back of his knuckles, and Arthur blushed as he looked at his watch.

"I should go." He pulled away his hand, but pressed a firm kiss to his mouth as he got up. "See you soon, Mr. Eames."

"I'll be here." He grinned back, knowing he would never even want to go. Arthur's smile turned a little softer at that, but he almost looked sad as he turned out the door, keys in hand.

Eames resolved to dismiss it as a trick of the light, and started on dinner.