It was three days before their anniversary and Eames had everything set up. It had been a bit last minute to get a reservation at the hotel, but he was able to charm the receptionist into getting them a nice suite up on the seventh floor. He headed out early to go check out the room and make absolute positive that it would be good enough for his Arthur.

He stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. The hallway itself was beautiful; marble floors covered by a strip of posh carpeting. A piece of artwork was hung between each room and the doors were made from the finest of wood. Eames let out a low whistle as he strolled down the hall until he came to their room. He slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open slowly.

He was greeted with a breathtaking sight. From the outside, the room didn't appear as though it could be this big, but it was quite extravagant. The space into which Eames stepped was comprised of the sitting area alone. The walls were an off white and the carpet a deep cream. All of the furnishings were simple and to the point, just how Arthur liked them.

Eames smiled to himself as he set down his key on the table next to the door and moved through the suite. Off to the right of the living room area was a small kitchenette comprised with immaculate tile flooring and a small breakfast nook, refrigerator, microwave, and even a small oven. Eames walked through the kitchen area shaking his head and smiling to himself. He made another right and found himself in the most stunning bathroom he had ever seen. Almost everything was a golden marble and there were even two tall Victorian looking candelabras positioned at each end of a large Jacuzzi style bathtub that Eames felt sure two people could accommodate.

He tore himself away to check the last room of the suite. Making another right turn, he stepped into the bedroom. The bed was a king, no doubt about that, and the canopy that encompassed the bed as awe-inspiring with its soft curtains hanging down in an almost graceful sort of way. The bed frame consisted of a black foot and headboard which felt like real wood under Eames' hand. The sheets were pure white and of the highest thread count known to man. Eames pressed a hand to the mattress and a small moan escaped his lips as it felt alluringly comfortable beneath his palm.

The rest of the room comprised of more simple, but elegant furniture with a nightstand on either side of the bed and a long couch across from the bed. Also across from the bed was a window that Eames had not first noticed. He walked over to it and was surprised to find himself looking out it and into the main area of the suite. He realized the suite had come full circle and he whistled once again.

He walked back through the entire suite once more, making sure that there wasn't anything missing that he thought Arthur would want, but could find nothing to add. He gathered up his key and headed out the door again, anxious to get back home to Arthur so that he could gush about the place, but refuse to share any intimate details just to vex the younger man.

oOo

The next day, Eames actually woke up before Arthur. He realized it would still be a few hours before the point man would wake up, but he was too excited to go back to sleep, so he set about making breakfast for both of them.

Arthur woke up a few hours later to several different smells wafting in from the kitchen; the scent of something burned beyond recognition being prominent among them. He flipped back the covers and slid out of bed. Once in the hallway, the smell of burning was almost overpowering, but seeing as how the smoke alarm hadn't gone off yet, he assumed Eames hadn't completely destroyed their kitchen.

He found the forger in a right state, quickly striding about the kitchen in a tacky yellow apron moving from counter to counter to check on various messes. His hair was sticking out in several different directions and there were strains all over the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

"Eames, what on earth are you doing?" Arthur asked, exasperated, but too tired and amused to sound like he was truly upset.

Eames whirled around, a sheepish grin formed on his face. There were traces of powder on his face and what looked like pancake syrup in the front on his hair, making it stand up almost as though he had gelled it that way.

"Morning, Arthur!" he said robustly. Arthur remained silent, but crossed his arms over his chest and gave the kitchen a disapproving look. Eames followed his gaze. "Er, right… The kitchen is a bit of a mess, yeah? But I swear I'll clean it all up and you won't even have to lift a pretty finger. I'll have this place back in order and even your sharp eye won't be able to tell the difference. I uh…made you some breakfast" he broke off, looking around to see if there was anything salvageable in the wreckage that was the breakfast massacre.

"Eames…"

"Right, darling. Okay. I'll clean this up and then we can go out for breakfast, how about that?" Eames asked.

"Eames, how about you just go get us something from the nice bakery a few blocks down and I'll clean this up" Arthur answered. Eames opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur was having none of it. "Please, Eames. If I let you clean this up I'm only going to drive the both of us crazy because you and I both know you can't clean worth a shit and I'll only be picking up after you and calling out orders from over your shoulder. You take care of getting us some breakfast and I'll repair the damage."

Eames tried to argue a few more times, but eventually Arthur broke him down so he set off to the bakery. It didn't take Arthur very long at all to restore the kitchen so he set about trying to occupy himself until Eames returned with their food.

Eames returned half an hour later with a giant brown bag tucked under one arm and a cup of coffee in each hand. He set the load down on the breakfast table and went to find Arthur.

He couldn't find the point man in the living room or the study. The bathroom was unoccupied so he decided to check the bedroom. Perhaps Arthur had decided to crawl back into bed, exhausted after scrubbing down the kitchen.

Eames entered the bedroom and was relieved to find Arthur dozing underneath the sheets. He was about to close the door and let him get a little more rest when he noticed something that made his pulse speed up and his heart plummet: Lying next to Arthur, almost hidden by the comforter, was a PASIV device that was opened and quietly humming away; one of its IVs stringing from the case and straight into Arthur's arm.

Eames cursed and rushed forward to the bed. There was only a minute left on the clock, so Eames waited, pacing the room and running a hand through his hair furiously.

After one minute, the PASIV beeped and Arthur's eyes slowly opened.

"Arthur, goddammit!" Eames barked. Arthur jumped and sat up hastily, pulling the IV from his arm and tossing it back into the case unceremoniously. He snapped the PASIV shut with a swift click and pushed it further under the covers, as though by doing that that Eames would think that was mistaken about what he had just seen.

"Arthur, I'm not fucking stupid; I know what you were doing. What I want to know is why. Why, Arthur? I thought we agreed that you wouldn't even go near one of those damned things until you were completely better and when I or someone else was with you" Eames said, trying his best to keep his voice under control.

"I thought I was better…" Arthur responded, his hands twisting in the sheets as he spoke to his lap.

"You've certainly gotten better, but Arthur, it wasn't that long ago. I was thinking more along the lines of a year… After a year or so we'd see how you were doing and if you weren't ready then, we'd just wait. And hell, if you were never ready to go back in that would have been fine. We could have found other work to do, you know that Arthur. What were you trying to prove?" Eames asked, his voice laced with hurt.

"I…I wanted to surprise you. I thought it would be nice, after all you've done for me especially in these past few days, if I could give something back to you; if you knew that I was ready to go back into the field. I know how much you love it, so don't even bother to deny that it. I know you're not going to go back unless I do. I just wanted to give you something" Arthur broke off and began crying in a way that broke Eames' heart.

His anger placed aside, he went over to the bed and knelt by Arthur's side, taking one of the point man's hands in his own. He rubbed his thumb over Arthur's hand as his other stroked the side of Arthur's face, fingers brushing away the tears rolling down his cheek.

"Oh, Arthur…" he sighed. "Darling, you didn't have to… How are you feeling? Are you alright?" They could address Arthur's actions later, but right now Eames' biggest concern was whether or not Arthur was about to slip into another catatonic spell.

"Yeah, 'malright" the younger man mumbled.

"No creeping doubts? Anything like that?" Eames asked.

"No. I…I'm fine. I'm going to take a shower, okay?" Arthur asked, suddenly moving himself to exit the bed.

"Al…alright. Arthur?"

"Yes, Eames?" Arthur asked, his hand already on the bathroom door.

"If you take longer than fifteen minutes, I'm coming in there" Eames said as he gave Arthur a serious look.

Arthur said nothing, but gave a nod to indicate that he understood perfectly what Eames meant and he stepped into the bathroom.

"And don't bother locking the door!" Eames called. "I'll bust the damn thing down if I have to!"

He listened to see if Arthur would do so anyway, but he only heard the sounds of clothes hitting the bathroom floor and then the water turning on. He sighed heavily and picked himself up off the floor. He ripped back the covers and picked up the PASIV by the handle. He thought for a moment about opening the window and chucking the damn thing out, but instead he tucked it into the very back of their closet and covered it with a mound of clothing.

He hated that he had been so stern with Arthur, but he would rather coddle the man than pretend like Arthur's previous suicidal behaviors hadn't existed and wind up finding him dead in the bath with as many major arties cut as he could get to before passing out.

After ten minutes, Arthur was out of the shower and Eames breathed a sigh of relief. He watched the point man carefully as he picked out an outfit from his dresser.

"You don't have to track my every move, you know" Arthur huffed as the pulled a shirt out of the top drawer.

"Right…" Eames said and jumped from where he was sitting on the bed. "I'll just be in the living room, yeah?" he said lingering in the doorway, watching as Arthur now pulled out a pair of pants.

"Mmm" Arthur murmured agreement. Eames nodded and headed to the couch. As far as he could tell, Arthur was perfectly alright. A bit upset, but that was probably his own fault. He seemed a little disoriented upon first waking, but then again, that could have just been because it had been a little while since he had gone under and not because he was mixing up the world of the dream and what was real again.

Eames remained on the couch as Arthur moved about their room. From the sound of it, he was putting clothes and other things into a suitcase. For a moment Eames felt his heart speed up, but then he remembered that they were headed to the hotel later and that Arthur was just packing for that. He himself hadn't even started, so he decided to chance heading back to the bedroom.

"Just here to pack my suitcase, love" he said as he entered the room with his hands held up. Arthur nodded and turned back to the dresser to pull out a few more things. Eames wanted to continue to track the point man's movements, but he forced himself to focus on his packing instead.

They finished at the same time even though Arthur had gotten a head start; he had taken the time to neatly fold and arrange everything whereas Eames had just tossed items in and forced it all to remain compressed enough so that he could zipper the bag.

Arthur gave Eames' bag a reproving look, but didn't say anything against it. Eames shot him an apologetic look.

"Listen, Arthur…if you don't want to do this anymore, that's perfectly alright with me. I can just call them up real quick and cancel…." Eames began, but Arthur cut him off.

He strode over to the side of the bed that Eames was standing next to and looked him hard in the eye. "Eames, of course I still want to do this. I'm…listen, I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to be the one skulking about like a kicked puppy. I did wrong and I'm sorry. I just got a little defensive. I don't like feeling incapable, especially over something that used to be second nature to me. I shouldn't have taken that out on you."

"I…well…" Eames stuttered.

"Don't talk, Mr. Eames. Let's go see this wonderful hotel you can't stop not telling me about" Arthur said and punctuated it with a kiss.

"Right you are, Arthur." Eames said, a familiar grin on his face as he grabbed his bag and picked up Arthur's from the bed. "I'll get these if you'll get the door."

oOo

They arrived at the hotel an hour later. A bellhop took their bags from them and the desk clerk slid Eames a small envelop with their rooms keys to him with a smile as she gazed at the couple. Eames slid an arm around Arthur's waist and guided him to the elevator. They rode up together in a comfortable silence, Arthur taking the opportunity of the elevator being unoccupied by anyone else but themselves to lean his head back and rest it on Eames' shoulder. Eames placed a kiss to the top of his head and hugged him tighter.

Once they reached the seventh floor, Arthur planted a quick kiss on the forger's lips as the doors slid open. He pulled away from Eames and grabbed his hand to pull him out into the hallway. Eames could tell by the way that Arthur's eyebrows shot up and the set of his mouth that he was already highly impressed with the hotel.

"Just wait until you see the room, sweet" Eames cooed into Arthur's ear. He instructed him to close his eyes, to which Arthur gave him an eyeroll, but he did as instructed. Eames took him by the hand and unlocked the door with the other.

He pulled Arthur inside and instructed him to remain still. He crept behind the point man to close the door. Once he did that, he turned around and snuck up behind Arthur, covering his eyes with his large hands.

"Eames, my eyes are already closed, do you really think…"

"Shh, love. Now, on the count of three I want you to open them, yeah?" Eames whispered in his ear. Arthur nodded.

"Excellent. One… Two... Three!" He pulled back his hands and heard Arthur gasp loudly.

"Do you like it, darling?" Eames breathed into his hair as he wrapped his arms around the smaller man.

"Eames…it's…god, thank you." Arthur seemed like he wanted to say more, but Eames understood. He turned Arthur around slowly and gave him a radiant smile. There were actual tears running down Arthur's face. Eames brushed them away as Arthur pulled the forger forward by the back of his neck until their lips met.

Arthur threaded his hands in Eames' hair and pushed their bodies together. Eames' hands roamed Arthur's face as he sucked on the point man's lower lip. He broke the kiss to tilt Arthur's head back and he began leaving a trail of sloppy, wet kisses down his jaw and to his neck as the younger man squirmed and moaned underneath his touch.

Eames knew if they kept this up that they'd probably rush into messy, hurried sex that would be over far too quickly and tonight he wanted everything to be special, particularly for Arthur. He pulled back from Arthur who made let out a small whine of protest at the loss of contact.

"Sorry, love, but if we keep this up we'll never make it to dinner and not to be that guy, but those reservations were not east to come by" Eames said, trying to regain normal breathing.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair to put it back in place. "You're right. Okay, let me freshen up and we can head out."

"Sure thing, darling" Eames replied, glad to see that the other man understood. They exchanged a smile as Arthur headed to the bathroom.

Eames sauntered over to the window and looked out onto the street below.

Tonight is going to be a very good night he thought to himself.

A.N: Well..I didn't intend for this chapter to be this long, but you know what? Oh well. I hate to keep leaving you guys with cliffhangers, though. But I promise, this next chapter is the chapter where the shit's gonna hit the fan. The fat is in the fire. So…yeah. Just hang in there, alright? And in the meantime, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and don't be shy around the review option. He's really a lovely bloke if you give him the chance.