Two hours later, Eames found himself outside of Arthur's hotel room. Ariadne hadn't let him leave until he was not only able to stand by himself, but until he was practically sober.

He braced himself slightly and knocked on the door.

A minute passed. Eames was about to turn and flee when the door finally opened.

There Arthur stood, still wearing his suit pants, but down to his undershirt, hair slightly disheveled. Eames was so distracted by this edible sight that he forgot his opening line and simply gawped for a moment.

Arthur looked at him, stony faced. "Mr. Eames. May I help you?"

Eames finally remembered himself and took a deep breath.

"Arthur. I owe you an apology. You are the best point man in the business for a reason, and I shouldn't have insulted your ability to stay professional on the job. "

Arthur continued to look at him, face still. Finally he spoke. "Ariadne got to you, did she?" he queried dryly.

Eames chuckled, despite himself. "Well, the girl is a natural peacemaker - which helps to make up for the fact that she's a natural snoop as well."

He drew another breath and continued, more seriously. "But she was right, I shouldn't have snapped at you just because I'd had a bad job of it. By way of an apology," he continued, "I thought I'd throw a little something your way. You could probably use some vacation time, so, here."

He held out one of the two airline tickets - the one he'd bought for Arthur, sans his own. He'd thought hard about this part, and had decided that something more was needed if he wanted to regain something close to friendly relations with Arthur ever again. It wasn't as if he wanted to go alone. And Arthur would probably enjoy it better without him, he sighed to himself.

Arthur took the ticket automatically, said "Really, Eames, it's not necessary," then glanced down at what he was holding. His forehead wrinkled slightly.

"Lisbon," he said blankly, "I've been wanting to-" he broke off and looked back up at Eames. "This says it was purchased two weeks ago. Just before the job started."

Eames cursed himself slightly for keeping the original printout with the purchasing date. Of course Arthur would notice something like that. He fumbled for words, only managing to mumble something indistinct.

There was a long pause. Arthur looked contemplative, then asked slowly, "You wouldn't have happened to have purchased another ticket going this way?" He waved the paper vaguely in the air.

"Err, well..." Eames stumbled, still unsure how to cover himself on this one.

"I thought so. Hm." Arthur gave him a long, appraising look. Just as Eames began to try to piece together an excuse to go, Arthur said, "Why don't you come in a bit, Eames. We should chat."

Arthur turned and walked into his room. Eames, not knowing what else to do, followed, shutting the door behind him. Arthur sat himself in one of the two chairs by the window, gesturing Eames to sit down across from him. Arthur leaned forwards, hands tented under his chin.

"You know," the pointman said, almost conversationally. "One of the complaints you made about me was rather unfair."

Eames winced. "I'm sorry. I know. You deliberately build your 'iceman' reputation, I shouldn't have-"

Arthur cut him off. "No, not that one."

Eames thought back, blankly, to his much regretted words from before.

"The one about always seeing through you," Arthur continued.

"What?" said Eames, startled. He hadn't been sure where this conversation was going to go, but his forging ability hadn't even crossed his mind as a possibility. That had been the least of his issuess, really. "But you do! I've never seen you caught out by one of my forges, and believe me, I've tried! I've never been able to figure out how you do it - you see through me every time."

"Not every time," Arthur said, shaking his head.

"When have I ever caught you out on one?" Eames asked skeptically.

"The first time."

"No," Eames said, "You recognized me as a ringer right off, before Cobb even introduced us."

Arthur shook his head and leaned back. "That's true. But that wasn't the first time I saw you forge."

"Don't tell me we worked another job before that one - I'm sure I would have remembered that."

"You wouldn't remember it. I wasn't pointman at the time, or even in the business. I was just a kid who'd signed up for a demo-program for new tech in the military. We'd done some simple test runs to get the basics of dream building down, and they had some hot-shot Brit come in to show us how it was done."

Eames remembered - not seeing Arthur, but the program to which he was referring. He'd done a number of demonstrations for new recruits for the dream program, back before going 'professional', when this whole thing was a tool of the military. He'd show off all his abilities, the full repertoire, for groups of 15-20 dreamers at a time. He'd never bothered to focus on the crowd - back then he'd needed all his concentration to pull things off.

"You were incredible, in fact. I'd never seen anything like it. It made me want to dream again more than anything else in the world. Later, when I started making my own way in the business, I made a point to learn all about forgery, and as much as I could about you. You made quite the impression on me. I was never good at forging myself, understand, but I tried to learn as much as I could about it. I couldn't do what you did, but I wanted to be as good as you. So I became the best at what I do."

"That still doesn't explain how..." Eames tried to interject.

Arthur continued, without pause "And to be frank, every forger we worked with up until you paled in comparison to what I had seen years prior. When Cobb introduced us, I knew it was you, because it was too good a forge to be anyone else's."

Eames wrinkled his brow, working his way through this new information.

"So, my giveaway is that my forges are too good?"

"Don't let it go to your head, Mr. Eames," Arthur smiled. Eames smiled back, unable to resist, as he pondered this. He considered the other thing he wondered most about - so utterly unique about Arthur. Apparently the pointman was in an astonishingly explanatory mood, so he may as well ask.

"You never treat me differently, though." Eames said. "I've never met anyone else who does that, treats me the same whatever face I happen to be wearing. People usually can't help reacting differently to different faces, even when they know who is underneath."

Arthur tilted his head. "You said before I always see through you. Why do you think that is?"

Eames shook his head in puzzlement.

Arthur sighed and leaned forwards in his chair. "Because... beneath the myriad of masks you love to put on... I see you. The joy you find in forging, the mischief of running a con, the thrill of a merry chase. I always see you, Eames. Just you. You always shine through. One look was all it took, Mr. Eames. And I was hooked."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

Eames back forward in his chair, the light beginning to dawn. His earlier conversation with Ariadne drifted through his mind. People show that they're in love differently, he thought hazily... and Arthur acts the same as he always has. Which means...

He leaned forward, decisively.

"Darling! Would you like to go to Lisbon with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask," said Arthur, and kissed him.