Author's Note: Okay, so this originally started as a re-write of my first one-shot for them…Then, well, I was listening to "Just Say You're Not Into It" by Mayday Parade and it got all sad… :D

Disclaimer: I do not own-ith. (I'm reading Macbeth so I'm talking…weird..er than usual…)

Eames looked up as the pilot's voice rang out over the intercom. "Attention, we will be landing in Seattle, Washington in approximately twenty minutes…" Twenty minutes. He'd be home and be back to Arthur.

Arthur. God, what was he going to say to him? What could he say to him? God, what had happened? How could he have—

His thoughts were shaken. "Sir? Sir? Sir—We've landed sir." Eames looked up to see the blonde flight attendant (the very same who had flirted with him shamelessly earlier) was glaring at him in anger; an attempt to disguise her anger was not made.

He plane was completely empty save for him.

Arthur jumped slightly at the knock on his door, narrowly avoiding dropping tonight's meal—pasta primavera—onto the kitchen floor. He set it on the table and called into the living room. "Ashley? Could you get that, dear?"

A young, tinkling voice called back, "Yeah, Dad." He heard her footsteps lightly tap on the hardwood.

Arthur walked toward the study. "Jonathan? Jonathan, dinner's ready. We're having—"

"Dad!" The ten-year-old's voice rang in from the entryway. "Daddy! This guy at the door wants to talk to you!"

Arthur grinned slightly, shaking his head. His life was a jumbled mess—one he wouldn't trade for anything in the w— He froze when he saw the man in the door.

Heavy build that would wrap around him each night. Strawberry blonde hair he had loved to run his fingers through. Full lips that tasted so sweet. Smoky eyes that would set his heart on fire. The confidence that practically oozed from him.

Eames.

Arthur stood frozen for a moment before his past life as a point man helped him regain control of himself. "Ashley? Why don't you go tell your father dinner is ready? Go…go ahead and eat. Nathaniel—Mr. Eames and I won't speak long; I should be along soon." The girl looked between her father and this stranger, realizing there was something between them she didn't understand, before hurrying off.

Arthur said nothing, but motioned for the other man to come in. they made their way to the living room, Eames looking around and taking in how much had changed since he had called these halls home. They say in chairs at opposite sides of the room. Arthur had his head in his hands; Eames wrung his hands nervously.

"Why are you here, Eames?" The former point man's voice was rough, tired. Eames recognized it from when the other man had used when a job had particularly worried him.

Eames's hands shook. "…I—I thought you would wait for me Arthur…"

"…Eames…I—" The other man shook his head and sighed. "It's been ten years. Ten years. Ten years without a letter, without a call." He rubbed his temples before looking up at the other man. "What did you expect me to do? I thought you we dead… I couldn't take care of the children alone…"

"The kids," Eames said as if it had suddenly dawned on him. "Oh God, Arthur, the kids…Do they hate me?"

The retired point man's eyes knit together. "Eames…they don't remember you; Ashley was two when you left, Jason couldn't even speak. They think Jonathan is their real father. That's why Ashley had no idea who you were when she answered the door."

The forger winced. "You…you never told her who I was? There were never any pictures?"

"No."

"Arthur…" He looked betrayed.

Arthur immediately became defensive. "What did you want me to tell them, Eames? That their real father was a criminal? Running from the law because he couldn't let go of the dream-addiction like I could? Is that what you wanted them to think of you?" Eames put his head down and said nothing. "I didn't think so."

They said nothing for a long time. Neither was quite sure how to act around the other man, knowing how he felt about the other but not knowing for the other felt for him. Eames spoke first.

"Jonathan?"

Arthur shut his eyes. "Yes."

Eames swallowed. "I see…" He stood up. "Well, I hope you two are happy together; I wish you two the best of luck in…whatever it is you do now, Arthur." He brushed imaginary dust from his slacks. "Goodbye."

Arthur had crossed the room, an arm on the other man's bicep, before he was aware of what was happening. "Eames…I—" He stopped, words gone from him as he looked into the other man's eyes.

Eames looked at Arthur, memorizing his face. "…I love you…"

Arthur swallowed. "I love you."

Eames jerked back as if he had been slapped. "No, Arthur, no you don't. You don't." His face twisted in a mix of emotion. "…You can't…You have Jonathan and the kids. We—we can't…"

Eames let out a breath before racing to the door, each step becoming more difficult as he moved away from Arthur. He reached the front door and cast one final look over his shoulder at Arthur's tear-streaked face.

"…Goodbye, love…"

Author's Note: Woah…That was…depressing…But that's two one-shots posted in a day! WOO!

Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.

Kierstin.