Author's Note: LOVE THIS!

Disclaimer: I do not own Arthur or Eames…Man, these guys really need a couple name…

Really, Dominic Cob should have expected something like this. Eames in the same room as Arthur was always problematic, nearly always catastrophic. Dom should have had this much foresight.

But he didn't.

So when Ariadne suggested they invest in a bulletin board for the warehouse, Dom agreed. It would have been perfectly fine had Eames not noticed it.

Dom walked into the warehouse early Tuesday morning to find Ariadne and Yusuf standing in front of the bulletin board. Ariadne had a delicate hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle. Yusuf wore his patented dopey smirk.

"What's so funny?"

Yusuf chuckled and pointed to a note on the board. In big, typed print it read:

Wanted: A girlfriend for Arthur. Must be willing to put up with Arthur. Contact Eames for more information.

Ariadne grinned as Arthur stormed through the warehouse. "EAMES!" He yelled as he approach the other man who was sitting at his desk. A game of solitaire was frozen on his computer screen.

"Yes, darling?"

The point man thrust the paper into Eames's face. "What, pray tell, is this?"

"Well, Arthur, it seems to be a piece of paper." Eames smirked.

Arthur glared at him before stalking off. "At least get your facts right before pulling an idiotic stunt like that."

Wanted: A muzzle for Eames. Contact Arthur with more information.

Eames laughed when he looked at the board the next morning. "Well...That was certainly worth the reaction."

Wanted: A boyfriend for Arthur. Still must be willing to put up with Arthur. Contact Eames for more information.

Yusuf grinned like the Cheshire Cat as Arthur walked into the warehouse upon returning from his lunch break. "Hey, Arthur," he called.

The point man's eyes followed to where the chemist's were looking and he groaned as he made his way to the board. "What on Earth could he possibly have...EAMES! THIS MEANS WAR, GOD DAMNIT!"

The next day, a note was placed on the bulletin board. Very formal and precise, it read:

Mr. Eames, if these ridiculous bulletins continue, I will be very put out.-Arthur

Yusuf grinned at Ariadne as Arthur pinned a note on the board on the other side of the room. "I give them a week before they're together."

The architect giggled. "Three days, tops."

Dom laughed as he walked by, holding out a twenty-dollar bill. "Put me down for forty-eight hours."

Now really, Arthur, must you write notes like this? It's rather childish. (Also-because I know you'll be pouting as you read this- darling, you look adorable.)-Eames.

Arthur glared at the messy chicken-scratch that made it's way across the paper.

Eames grabbed his jacket from the coat rack, slipping it on over his pink paisley shirt. "See, I told you, darling. Utterly adorable."

Wanted: A certified doctor to diagnose Eames's serious mental condition(s). Contact Arthur with any and all information.

Eames smirked at the paper, chuckling quietly at the rise he had been able to get from the point man, as he made his way to Arthur's desk. He placed a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Darling, surely you don't mean that."

Arthur pretended to focus on his files, keeping his back to Eames, but he shivered-hyper aware of the other man's touch. He said nothing.

Eames leaned in, his cheek ghosting the point man's face. His breath was hot on Arthur's face. He trailed his thumb along the point man's jaw, and Arthur swallowed. "The only thing that could ever drive me crazy, love, is you." Eames laughed, spun on his heel, and left the room.

Wanted: the address and business hours of a high-end, Arthur-worthy restaurant. Preferably serves seafood. –Eames

Arthur's brow furrowed as he read the note. Paying no mind to the warehouse door opening and closing as the forger walked in, he frowned, wondering what the other man was up to.

Meanwhile, Eames shrugged off his jacket, grinning to himself before clearing his throat, catching Arthur's attention immediately. "Hello, darling."

"What's this?" Arthur inclines his head to the board.

Eames simply shrugged, grinning. He reached into pocket, past his poker chip, and pulled out a sheet of paper, handing it to Arthur.

Arthur shot him a look, unfolding the sheet. "...Dinner? Seven p.m. Tomorrow evening?" He paused. "Eames, what are you...?" He let the question trail off as Eames looked at him questioningly.

He opened his mouth to reply, but Eames "shhh"ed him. "Write it down."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur did as he was told. He walked over to his desk, grabbing a pen and Post-It. He wrote down a single word before casually making his way back to the forger, handing him the note.

Eames's eyes lit up as he read the single word on the paper, leaning in and placing his hands on Arthur's hips. The note fell to the floor.

Yes.

Author's Note: STILL LOVING THIS! Gah! …And I'm pretty sure no one reads this anymore so I'm talking to myself…That's okay, I'm cool enough for that.

Peace, Love, Mark, and Iggy.

Kierstin.