Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in. Everything else belongs to someone else and that's just the way it's gotta be. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.

What He Said

Eames got his way and the two were hooked up to the dream machine together when it was time for his surgery to begin. Arthur had a seat at the head of the operating table, putting him out of everyone's way. The machine was set up beside the point man, Cobbs there as well to start the machine up and monitor the whole process just in case. Eames and Arthur were both hooked up to numerous machines to study their brain waves, despite the fact that Arthur, Ariadne and Cobbs had all told the doctors it was a pointless endeavor. The medicals were still interested, and since they'd saved Eames's life Arthur hadn't had the heart to turn them down after his annoying forger had said yes to the idea.

When it was time Cobbs patted his best friend's shoulder as he reached out with his other hand to press the button. "You two play nice."

Neither man answered as they fell into slumber.

Blinking into the dream Eames looked around, taking in the beach setting once more with a wide smile. Even better was the fact that he was once again in control of his body. It felt damn good to move without aching every bloody where, the forger thought as he stretched his arms over his head All the better to pin you down with, my Darling, Eames thought wolfishly as he started down the sandy shore, looking for his point man.

He found the man on the porch of the beach cottage they had lived in for the two week dream they had shared earlier. The man was wearing his habitual suit, which automatically clued Eames into the fact that the younger man had no intention of pretending this was simply a dream. This was just another form of reality to Arthur and the man wasn't going to behave as he had the last time.

The gloves were back on so to speak.

Challenged by that knowledge Eames walked up the short steps that led to the porch, moving to lean against the railing so that he was facing Arthur. "Hello, Darling."

"You might as well take a seat, Eames." Was Arthur's cool reply from his seat, his eyes hidden behind his designer sunglasses. "You shouldn't over do it, even if this is just a dream. You're still healing."

"And if I said I'd prefer some sexual healing?" Eames drawled out, his hands in the pockets of his cutoff jeans for the moment. His newest offensively tacky Hawaiian shirt was open, his plan having been to pounce as soon as his point man came into view after all.

They were, as always, a study in contrasts.

Arthur's lips didn't so much as twitch at the man's teasing words. "Then I'd say you're out of luck."

Eames knew that tone of voice. That was Arthur's 'Don't think for one minute you can change my mind' voice. He loved that voice. Mostly because he loved screwing with the other man on every level, the forger mentally acknowledged with a wide grin. There was nothing Arthur hated more than losing control of himself and whatever situation they happened to be in. And since he had every intention of changing the man's mind Eames foresaw plenty of fun in their dreamy future. Fun for him anyway.

"So you're saying that there's nothing I could do that would change your mind?" Eames asked, throwing out that little gauntlet.

There was no emotion in Arthur's voice as he answered. "I'm saying that you're out of your sex obsessed mind if you think I'm going to get physical with you while our brains are hooked up to all those damn machines."

Opening his mouth to complain the words died on Eames's tongue when he realized what Arthur was getting at. Not that he knew a lot about the human brain, but he did know that the brain surgeons and such had a lot of it mapped out. As in they could possibly know, from looking at the scans, that the two of them had, at the very least, been aroused by the other's company. Then there was the fact that their present sedation was a lot lighter than what they'd had earlier. Before Arthur had had no time to dilute the mix, he'd had to go with what he'd had on hand. This time around they could quite possibly react to what they were dreaming about.

And Arthur got fairly vocal the closer he came to orgasm.

He wasn't at all keen for anyone other than him to witness any aspect of Arthur's sexiness.

"Shit. Hoisted by my own petard."

Arthur reached up and tipped down his shades so that he could look at Eames, his surprise obvious. "You actually know what petard means?"

Not for a million dollars would Eames admit that he'd only been repeating something he'd heard on an episode of 'Family Guy'. "I know things." He said instead, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "I know a lot of things you don't."

"Things I bet I don't want to know." Arthur returned as he pushed the sunglasses back into place. Thank God for them, the point man thought to himself, having to work hard to keep a straight face. The Hawaiian shirt was somewhat bearable through the darkened lenses. The reality offended him on too many levels to count. Deliberate on Eames's part no doubt. The forger would know that he'd want to get the man out of it as soon as possible.

"Well I don't know about that." Eames drawled out as he straightened, walking over to take a seat beside Arthur, tipping back his chair as he took in the view. "I rather thought you enjoyed some of the things I introduced you to the last time we vacationed here. Is this a real beach by the by?"

"It is."

Eames grinned, having hoped that would be the other man's answer. "Most excellent. So once I'm out of the bloody hospital can we come here? On a real vacation together."

"When you're well enough to leave the hospital you and I are going to New York."

Looking over at Arthur Eames's grin widened. And here he'd thought he'd have to guilt trip the guy into it. "I'm going home with you, then? You might have mentioned that earlier. Not that I don't like the idea, mind you. In fact, I think it's the best one you've possibly ever had."

Arthur rolled his eyes behind his glasses. It was most certainly not the best idea he'd ever had. It was going to be one of the stupidest things he'd ever done. And even knowing that he was still going to do it, which made him incredibly stupid indeed, Arthur summed up in his head. But it went without saying that Eames wouldn't take proper care of himself. Not to mention the fact that the forger would just follow him back to New York anyway. That last dream had seen to that. He'd given the other man a taste of what could be between them and now Eames was obviously determined to get more.

"Can I ask you a question, Darling?"

"You're going to ask regardless."

"True enough." Eames acknowledged, his face going somewhat serious as he watched Arthur intently, fighting back the desire to remove the sunglasses that shielded the man's eyes from him. "Why did you let me have you? You've done nothing but spurn me in reality. And for people like us…dreams are as much our reality as our waking lives are. What happened between us was real, regardless of where it took place."

The faintest of smirks crossed Arthur's lips. "As I recall I had you a great deal more than you had me."

"I was injured."

Arthur couldn't help but really smirk at that one. "Excuses, excuses. Typical man."

"You know, darling, seeing as you're a man you're insulting yourself there too."

Reaching up again Arthur tipped down his glasses and gave the forger a hot look that was designed to fry the man's circuits. "I'm anything but typical, Eames."

"True enough." And knowing that Arthur had added the hot look to distract him Eames gave the other man a look that said he wasn't going to fall for it. "Now how about answering my question, Arthur, before I assume you haven't the guts to?"

Thanks to his former and current profession Arthur considered himself a first class liar. He was very good at convincing people to believe whatever he wanted them to believe in order for things to move in his own best interests. Of course Eames was just as skilled a liar, better even, though the point man was loathed to admit it. But his skills were sufficient enough that Arthur imagined he could lie his way through an explanation the forger would buy. Unfortunately he had yet to come up with a believable excuse. Which meant he would either have to wing it or tell the truth, Arthur thought with an inner grimace.

He did not do well winging things.

"We've always been attracted to each other." Arthur said simply, opting to be as pithy as possible. "What happened is a result of that."

"That doesn't really answer my question, Arthur."

"That's the best you're going to get, Eames."

)

An hour or so later Eames started to come out of his induced slumber, the forger feeling decidedly crappy both as a result of the pain and Arthur's evasiveness. The man was harder to crack than the third level of a man's subconscious, Eames thought darkly as he lay where he was, too worn out and tired to even attempt to open his eyes. Drifting sounded like a damn good idea to him at the moment, especially since he could hear the sound of pages being turned at his side and smell the other man's cologne. Arthur was there, watching over him as usual, the forger thought tiredly. He could drift without worry for the time being.

When the door opened and someone walked in Eames started to tense, then relaxed again when he sensed no tension from Arthur. Not surprisingly, the interruption was one of his doctors. Again.

"Are you enjoying your book?" The doctor asked Arthur, a smiled on his face as he motioned to the novel in question. "I'm a great fan of his, I enjoyed that one in particular."

"It's not my first time reading it, but I always find something new to appreciate every time I read one of his works. Are you here to look over Eames? I'm afraid he's still out for the moment." More like sleep pouting, Arthur mentally amended, looking over in the forger's direction. People like them tended to wake up a lot quicker than most, their systems use to having to throw off sedation quickly in order to increase their chances of survival. That Eames was still motionless and apparently unconscious was a testament to the man's determination to remain so.

Their version of the silent treatment, Arthur thought with a smile.

"You should do that more often." The doctor said smoothly, drawing Arthur's attention back to him, explaining himself when the point man gave him a questioning look. "I was referring to your smile. You're even more attractive when you do."

Was his doctor HITTING on Arthur? Throwing off sleep effortlessly Eames's mind went on high alert while he listened to Arthur thank the doctor for the compliment. Which doctor was it? What did he look like? Using the man's voice as an indicator Eames identified the doctor as the one who'd been so gung-ho to hook them up to the brain machines in the first place. Not a bad looking chap, though nowhere near his own league, Eames assured himself, even as he wondered if the man's brains would make up for his lack of brawn in Arthur's eyes.

Shit. Damn. Fuck A Duck.

This was not good. Not good at all.

Flattered by the look in the doctor's eyes Arthur continued to smile at the man, though the other man wasn't his type. It was still nice to be complimented. "I'm sorry again if Eames got your hopes up about the possibility of dream assistance during surgery. That area isn't exactly his area of expertise and he mostly wanted us to be hooked up so that we could have a lucid and coherent conversation."

"No need to apologize, I assure you. Actually, I've been turning the idea around in my head and I think that perhaps I could adapt my ideas for therapy afterwards. Time spent in a hospital can have a negative affect on patient morale and their recovery time as a result. I was actually hoping that I could talk you into joining me for dinner this evening to discuss the possibilities. I'm sure that I'd find your company as fascinating as the topic."

I'll kill him, Eames thought as he tried to remember every piece of medical equipment currently within his reach. There weren't any scalpels or syringes nearby, more the pity, but there had to be something nearby that he could use to make sure the man was in no condition to even think about stealing Arthur from him. Worst case scenario, he'd strangle the arrogant bastard with the prat's own necktie.

"You don't need to buy me dinner to get information." Arthur replied, buying himself time while he tried not to give away the fact that he'd sense the change in Eames's formerly unconscious status. The man was playing possum, he was sure of it.

Setting one hand on the point man's chair the doctor leaned in to smile seductively at Arthur. "I'd buy you dinner for just the pleasure of looking at you across the table."

Flustered as hell Arthur was thrown off balance enough not to immediately respond.

Meanwhile, having come to the depressing conclusion that he was in no condition to take the smooth talking bastard down, Eames was far from prepared to accept that the outcome of this conversation lay in Arthur's hands. He'd welcome castration with welcoming arms first. And having always been better than Arthur at thinking on his feet Eames came up with a quick plan that he inwardly grinned over.

Moving restlessly in his 'sleep', Eames put on a pretty good show of pretending to be fighting his way into consciousness from a dream, murmuring incoherently for a couple moments before making damn sure every word he said was perfectly audible.

"God, Arthur, Luv, yeah, just like that. I want you bucking and screaming, Baby, and I'm not stopping till you do. Yeah, you know you like that, the way you look when I-OWWWWWWWWW!"

Yelping hard Eames's eyes flew open as his ear was violently twisted in a move that had him forgetting about his little ploy. "Dammit, Arthur! That really smarts you know!"

"I'd apologize for him, but there'd be little point." Arthur informed the doctor after giving the forger's ear one last hard yank before letting go. "If I apologized to everyone Eames has ever manipulated I'd be doing it until I was in the grave myself. And as for your offer, let's discuss that outside, shall we?"

And not about to take any chances Arthur took the very confused doctor by the arm and dragged him across the room and out the door while Eames's called out for them to get their arses back in the room.

)

Closing the door sharply behind them Arthur's cheekbones were faintly tinged with color as he turned around to fact the doctor, his fury with Eames competing with his embarrassment over what the forger had said and implied. There was also the voice in the back of his head that reminded him of why Eames had said what he'd said, which didn't help him either. But first things first.

"Thank you for your compliments and your invitation to dinner, but I'm afraid I have to decline. At this point my acceptance would only give you the wrong impression about my interest. While I would greatly enjoy Eames reaction if I said yes, I don't believing in using people unless it's absolutely necessary."

"You and Mr. Eames are involved?" The doctor asked hesitantly, obviously unsure of his next step where Arthur was concerned. "If so I apologize for my earlier request, I didn't realize the two of you were a couple."

"We're not. Or at least not in an official way that would prohibit us from accepting dinner invitations from outside parties. It's complicated. Extremely complicated"

"Obviously."

Arthur lifted out a hand to the doctor, shaking it when the doctor accepted. "Thank you again for the offer though. I'm sure it would have been a lovely and memorable evening."

"Anytime. Good luck with your…complication."

"I'll need it." Bidding goodbye to the doctor Arthur watched him walk out of sight before he turned around to face Eames's door. There wasn't any sound of muffled yelling so either Eames was back to the silent treatment or the man had worn himself out with his little tirade.

Hoping it was the second Arthur opened the door again and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Eames's head was turned towards him, the man's fierce gaze all but drilling a hole through him as he walked over to take his seat. Deliberately Arthur retrieved his book from the man's bedside table and settled himself back into his chair.

"Arthur." His tone of voice said it all. Eames was seriously pissed and wanted to know just how pissed off he needed to be.

"Eames." Arthur returned, his voice saying plainly that he was just as pissed but cold about it.

The two men looked at each other, the tension so thick you could cut a knife with it.

And stepping into the room Ariadne and Cobbs took one look and promptly turned on their heels and headed back out of the room.

They weren't stupid after all.