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What's Best For You

Eames sat at the kitchen table with his newspaper, biting into his toast with relish as he enjoyed the combination of crisp bread and melted peanut butter. The breakfast of kings, he thought with a grin, absently glancing in the direction of the fruit bowl in the middle of the table. When his lover was done primping in front of the mirror the forger had no doubt that man would come in and eat a disgustingly healthy breakfast and push some piece of fruit on him before they headed down to the main level. It was a tradition, one he enjoyed in a perverse sort of way. Not only did he get to annoy Arthur by reluctantly letting the fruit be forced upon him, but he had the satisfaction of knowing the man nagged him about it because he cared about his health. A win win situation, Eames thought as he took a sip of his coffee.

Minutes later Arthur entered the room, meticulously dressed to a polished gleam. Watching the point man take in the peanut butter toast and coffee through knowing eyes Eames just grinned at the man as his resigned lover went over to the fridge to retrieve the milk and orange juice. In minutes the man had together a breakfast that would meet all his dietary and health needs, Eames thought in amusement as he studied the breakfast in front of his man, not the least surprised when Arthur pushed a glass of orange juice beside his coffee cup. Accepting the addition with a grimace Eames quickly downed the juice so that he could go back to his coffee.

Arthur would have rolled his eyes if he weren't so used to his lover's dismal eating habits. He didn't like thinking what the man had regularly put in his digestive system before he'd started to regulating Eames's fat, starch, sugar and salt intake. Even a mind as brilliant as his own would probably boggle, Arthur thought as he took a sip of his own juice. He had a sneaky suspicion that Eames knew he'd started to slip vitamins into his food and was counterattacking by upping his coffee intake. The bastard.

"So which piece of fruit are you going to try and force me to eat today?" Eames inquired innocently, looking at the younger man over the rim of his coffee.

"How much crap did you eat while you were out of my sight?"

Eames lips twitched into a very incorrigible grin.

"Figures." Shaking his head Arthur turned his attention to the fruit bowl, his mind counting off the pros and cons of its various offerings.

Reaching out Eames solved the problem by grabbing an apple, rubbing it on his shirt sleeve, and then biting in it with a satisfying crunch. Arthur had been eyeing the peaches, which he seriously disliked unless Arthur was licking the juice off of him, which the man had done one memorable morning during one of their memorable fights over his diet. Come to think of it, he'd gotten away with not eating any fruit that morning as a direct result. That was something to remember, Eames thought with another wicked grin.

Knowing this particular grin well Arthur crossed his arms in front of him. "Don't even think about it, Eames. You've had your morning sex and we're already behind thanks to it. We have a lot of work to catch up on."

Eames slowly dragged his tongue over his top lip. "There's always time for more morning sex, Darling."

Since it wouldn't be the first time the man had talked him back into bed Arthur thought it wise to distract the forger from pouncing on him. Reaching into his pocket the man retrieved a device that resembled a Blackberry but was something else entirely. Setting it on the table Arthur slid it across the table to stop just in front of Eames's crumb covered plate.

Picking up the devise Eames turned it on, confused to see what looked like a blueprint of their personal rooms. "What's this?"

"That blue dot is me. You'll be able to track me on that even if they somehow got me out of this state. Its accuracy will be affected if they get me out of the country, but since they aren't getting me period that shouldn't be an issue. It's connected to this watch, Dom and I have used it a couple times when it was necessary to know where the other was at a moment's notice." Arthur finished off his juice while he watched understanding dawn on his lover's face. He would have preferred the man take his word about the situation, but he knew this would make the other man feel better.

Eames studied the screen and then smiled up at Arthur. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

)

Eames attempts over the next three days to weasel more information out of Arthur proved fruitless. He didn't end up on the couch, but he'd had to use considerable charm a couple of times to keep it that way. To say he was frustrated would be an understatement. Arthur had even let him leave the breakfast table that morning without forcing fruit on him because he'd told the point man he wouldn't eat it until he was told what was going on and who was after his man.

That irritated him more than it should have.

Absently running his hand through his hair Eames moved off to the side, leaning back against the wall as he looked around for a distraction. Maybe he'd join in on a game, use that to take his mind off of things. Win or lose he technically kept his money, so it was all good.

The forger's mental debate with himself was interrupted by the sound of his phone going off. Retrieving it from his pocket Eames studied the readout, his interest piqued when he saw that it was Cobbs's number. He'd forced himself not to call the man to ask him what he knew of Arthur's circumstances, but this did sort of seem like a sign. Opening the phone Eames brought it to his ear. "Hey, Cobbs, how's it going?"

"Not too bad. I'd ask you the same but Arthur's filled me in." The other man's voice was rueful and apologetic. "Which is why I'm calling, Eames. Arthur figured you'd get ahold of me sooner or later, I thought I'd beat you to the punch since I gave him my word I'd let him know if you contacted me about it."

"I knew there was a reason I didn't kill you for nearly sending me into limbo." Eames drawled out, even as he fought back annoyance to have his suspicions confirmed. Arthur had told Cobbs, but refused to tell him.

"Thanks for that. First, just so you know, the only reason I know about the situation is because Arthur got badly drunk one night and spilled most of it for me. He didn't even remember telling me the next morning until I clued him in. That and about a year ago I was contacted about coming out of retirement by the same man that hired Dutch and his team to come after our point man this time. I respectfully declined on mine, Arthur's and yours' behalves."

Eames's eyes narrowed and went cold at the news. "I just need a name, Cobbs."

"And I'd love to give it to you but I gave Arthur my word I wouldn't." It went unspoken that they both knew Cobbs was still not completely forgiven for nearly causing them all to end up in limbo during the Fischer job. His partner and honorary brother would have followed him into limbo without regret, but Arthur had yet to forgive him for risking Ariadne's life, much less Eames's. For risking Eames's life Cobbs wasn't sure his best friend would ever forgive him. And he'd had to accept that. But he couldn't make things worse between him and Arthur, Dom thought with deep regret. He could hardly stand the distance between them already.

"Dammit, Cobbs."

"I know. Believe me I know. But you're just going to have to take what I can give you. He's not in physical danger, Eames. The man who's after him would have made it clear to Dutch that Arthur isn't to be harmed physically. If Dutch harms a hair on Arthur's head he won't get paid and will face grave physical harm himself, if not death. You should know me well enough to know I wouldn't let the man live if he posed that kind of a threat to Arthur."

Eames had to admit that the man spoke the truth. Cobbs wasn't a man given to violence or bloodshed, but he loved Arthur like a brother.

"I told him to tell you." Dom volunteered. "Hopefully he will."

The forger sighed, hearing the doubt in Cobbs's voice. "I shouldn't hold my breath, should I?"

"I wouldn't, no."

)

Arthur sat at the bar, absently sipping his water while he watched the various customers pass by, keeping an eye out for possible trouble. And there was always the possibility of trouble thanks to the uniforms Eames had come up with for their waitresses, the point man thought with a small sigh. The staff had been asked to wear white dress shirts and either black slacks, which he'd picked out, or the short blank miniskirts Eames had voted for. Since showing skin got more tips almost all of the women had embraced the skirts. Straight men were so easy, Arthur thought as he rolled his eyes. And since straight men didn't interest him Arthur didn't mind unless the men didn't take the girls' nos to heart or their angry wives took offense to their hubby drooling over the waitresses.

Pushing back his sleeve Arthur took note of the time, wishing it was his own watch he was wearing instead of the tracking device one. What if someone got close enough to realize it was a fake Rolex?

And knowing how stupid that thought was the point man sighed as his mind turned to his current predicament. Eames wasn't dropping the situation, and probably wouldn't even after Dutch and his team were fired just like all the others. Maybe he'd get lucky and the infamous Dutch would take offense to being dismissed and shoot the bastard. It wouldn't take much to finish the old man off, he'd barely survived his latest heart attack and it was really only a matter of time. It was because of that the old man was willing to risk hiring someone like Dutch in the first place. He was getting desperate. And desperate men were dangerous men, Arthur thought as he drank some more of his ice water.

The infamous Dutch was desperate to find him to completely his contract and protect his sterling rep.

His grandfather was desperate to have him back in the family folds and brainwashed before he expired and the family business went to hell in a hand basket.

That his grandfather thought he would ever come to heel for any reason showed just how much the man had been deteriorating in the years since they'd last spoke. He'd throw himself in front of a train first, Arthur thought bitterly, remembering clearly the moment he'd realized that his grandfather had been serious when he'd threatened to disown him if he refused to cooperate with the plans his grandfather had been orchestrating for him since he was a child. Of course the man had expected him to crumble like a dry sandcastle, which had proven to him once and for all that the man who was his mother's father had never truly seen who he was. He'd walked out on his family, his friends, his lover and his wealth because of the price tag attached to keeping them.

It had certainly been a humbling experience, learning just how little use people had for you when you didn't have the same money and social status as them.

Those were mistakes he intended to never make again.

But even as he thought that Arthur felt familiar, warm eyes on him, eyes that had him looking over to briefly meet Eames's before the man disappeared from view again. Checking once again to make sure that the tracking device was working and accurately depicting where he was in the building no doubt.

Eames.

Logically Arthur knew that his current wealth wasn't why Eames was still with him. He even knew that if he were to lose all his money Eames would still be a part of his life. The problem was that he couldn't say why the man was in his life in the first place, which made him more anxious about their relationship than he was comfortable with. He spent way too much time trying to convince himself that their relationship wasn't evolving far beyond what it had started out as.

Years ago, when Dom had asked him to look into Tom Eames as a possible third for a job they'd been assigned, his research had suggested the slightly older man to be a charming, easygoing rogue who gambled too much but was the best forger in the business. So he'd given his okay and had expected the man to be annoying, but tolerable. And then Eames had walked into the apartment Dom had rented for their job and his world had tilted on its axis.

Eames was the opposite of his type, but one look into those hot, devilish eyes and he'd wanted the man like he'd never wanted anyone before. In that moment he'd actually wanted to grab the man, drag him to the nearest bed, and spend the rest of the week naked with the forger doing things that were probably illegal in some countries.

Of course he'd been mortified by his uncharacteristic thoughts, and had chalked them up to having gone far too long without a lover to take the edge off. So he'd forced himself to remain professional, had ignored the man's friendly overturns, and had treated the forger the way he would any other business associate.

But fate worked in mysterious ways, Arthur thought wryly, and the day of that first job there had been an article in the newspaper that had mentioned...had mentioned He Who Shall Not Be Named. And the reminder of his ex and the way he'd been betrayed had had him thinking that his type sucked and that he'd be an idiot if he didn't at least see what it would be like to pit himself against the man so foreign to his previous tastes but still so desirable.

Even now Arthur blood heated as he remembered that first night with the forger.

"You and Eames have a fight?"

Looking over Arthur smiled faintly in the direction of the waitress who'd spoken. "Not exactly. It would be fairer to say we're at an impasse."

"Well you better un-impasse yourselves real soon." Caro drawled out, her Southern accent just one of her many selling points. The men loved her, and she loved them, especially her two bosses. They treated her right, and she thought of them as honorary brothers. "That fine man of yours is gonna get himself an ulcer if you don't settle him down some."

An ulcer? Crap. That would not be good. Ulcers were irritated by alcohol and spicy food, both of which his lover loved and would not give up without a great deal of bitching. And in just four days he was going to give Eames the information to send to Dutch to cover him, Arthur thought wistfully. He'd been so sure he could hold his man off until then, but what if they didn't accept his faked death? Or even if Dutch did that didn't necessarily mean Eames wouldn't continue to worry about another team being hired later on.

Fuck.

Blowing out an annoyed sigh Arthur couldn't help but recall what Dom had said when he'd called the man about the present situation. His former partner had said he should explain things to Eames if for no other reason than the forger was probably imagining that he was being chased by the mob or some dangerous crime lord bent on bloody revenge. Eames had seen plenty while he was in the military, stuff that still haunted his man even now. Things that had made the man leave the service in the first place.

He was only thinking of himself, keeping his mouth shut, which made him a real assehole by anyone's standards.

"Thanks for the pep talk, Caro. I'm going to go end that impasse."

"You do that, Sugar." Patting her boss's cheek the waitress winked at him as he got to his feet. "And just remember, you're gonna be getting makeup sex out of the deal, which is always worth losing an argument in my books."

Lips twitching in amusement Arthur nodded in acknowledgement of her point.

Making his way through the crowds while he mentally rehearsed what he was going to say, Arthur wished desperately that there was some way for him to avoid dealing with the coming questions. He was a private person by nature, he hated talking about his feelings and problems. They were his problems after all. He was a man, he could damn well take care of any trouble that might come his way, Arthur mentally ranted.

He'd just had to go and hook up with a man even more alpha than him.

Shaking his head over the fact Arthur finally spotted Eames at one of their blackjack tables, most likely losing whatever money he'd had in his wallet. The man rarely broke even, it was almost always one of the two extremes, Arthur thought fondly. The man either hit the jackpot or ended up having to pawn his shoes for extra money. That he adored that about the forger was just one more example of how screwy their relationship was.

Walking over to stand behind the man Arthur set his hands on the other man's shoulders, leaning forward to place his lips against his lover's ear.

"I'll tell you tonight what you want to know."