Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters and the plot. Thanks and enjoy.

Puzzling Things Out

Not being a sadist, Eames didn't enjoy having a weeping woman in his arms. Particularly a pregnant one with a problem he knew he could do nothing to solve. Because while he had no problem with the idea of beating some sense into Hugh, he was actually rather itching to do it at the moment, Eames also knew enough about human nature to know that while Hugh might stay on the straight and narrow to save his own skin for a while, his 'friend' would fall back into bad habits soon enough. People could change, he did believe that, but they had to want to change for themselves. It had to be their choice, and what they wanted, or the changes were only skin deep.

But even though he didn't enjoy dealing with emotionally overwrought women Eames also wasn't sure that he wanted Emma to go home alone, especially since the flat was Hugh's as well. Nor did he like the idea of letting her go off with her husband when the cheating bastard finally shuffled over to join them, Tasha thankfully nowhere in sight.

Arthur had finished packing up and had donned his coat, the look he aimed in Hugh's direction one Eames hoped never to see aimed in his direction. He had weathered his fair share of comments from their fellow dreamshare workers who asked if he was masochistic, sleeping with a man who so often ignored or treated him like a misbehaving toddler. And while he couldn't argue that Arthur did that, that was nothing to being looked at like he was nothing.

He'd take Arthur looking at him like he was an idiot any day.

The sight of her husband was enough incentive to have Emma fighting back any more tears, the girl showing a British true upper lip by wiping away the ones that still clung to her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand, asking Hugh why he wasn't on his way to the pub.

"I…I thought…I should come make sure you were all right."

Emma's voice was hard, though Eames could feel the shudders coursing through her as he kept a steadying arm round her waist. "I might be bloody stupid where you're concerned, but I do know when you're lying to me. You what, came to watch the show?"

"Emma."

"What? I've misunderstood? It was an accident? She seduced you? You were pissed, and therefore can't be held responsible for your sodding actions again? Please. Spare me. I feel stupid and pathetic enough at the moment. Though not nearly as stupid and pathetic as a wanker like you."

Ouch. True. But ouch.

"Emma, would you like to use Eames hotel room for the night? Or for Hugh to do so. Eames won't be needing it."

Eames would have liked to have been consulted before his room was offered up, but since he would have been much happier if he and Arthur had shared a room from the start he wasn't about to complain.

"Thank you, Arthur, but I want to go home now." Turning her head to give Eames a thankful look, Emma silently conveyed that she had this as she slid out from his grasp. "As for you, Hugh, I don't give a rat's grimy, flea infested arse where you sleep tonight. I have more important things to think about. Like what's best for our child. And me."

And so saying Emma marched off the way they'd come, Hugh lagging behind as he was obviously torn between chasing after her and trying to act cool and collected in from of them after Emma and Arthur had verbally bitch slapped him into position.

Not being a complete fool Hugh knew he was no match for Arthur even on his best day though, so it didn't take him long to mumble a goodbye before he went running after his wife.

"Well that was…fuck. I don't know. What do you think she'll do?"

"Take him back."

Surprised, he hadn't expected Arthur to sound so sure, Eames asked why he was so sure.

"She still believes love can conquer all."

"And you don't think it can?" It didn't surprise him, but Eames found the idea sad as well.

Arthur's lips quirked ever so slightly. "I wouldn't say that Dumbledore was wrong to say that it was the most powerful magic of all. It's just that most people aren't capable of feeling it. At least not selflessly. And even when they do, well two people loving the other to the same depth of emotion…not even you would be-nevermind. You would absolutely bet on those odds."

Since he couldn't argue with that Eames offered to carry Arthur's laptop bag for him.

"Drop it and I will shoot you."

"So you've made very clear, Darling. Multiple times." Accepting the bag Eames slung it over his shoulder and then fell into step with Arthur as they headed out, glancing around as something occurred to him. "Tasha heard all that, and Hugh will probably back out as part of his appease Emma deal. I suppose the job's over now." Shit.

"I have all the information the client wanted. I'll send him the info and tell him that an opportunity presented itself and we moved our extraction schedule up accordingly. I'll share the profits with you since you got me involved in the first place."

"What do you mean, you already have the information?"

"A lot of what we retrieve is hackable information, Eames. No dreamwork required. Especially something as easy as this job." A brief look of annoyance. "And I won't have a black mark on my record because neither Hugh nor Tasha can keep their clothes on."

"Well at least neither of them will ever willingly work with you again."

"I only worked with them because of you."

It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he was flattered, or something equally flirty or flippant, but wisely Eames bit them back. He'd rather savor the words, even if the more cynical part of his brain pointed out that Arthur just meant that he wanted to cash in the favor he'd owed Eames to clear the slate.

"Will you leave tomorrow, if this is the end of it?"

"No. I have plans."

"Plans?"

"Plans." Arthur repeated back to him without elaborating as to what those plans were.

Eames could take a hint.

He went quiet for the rest of the walk out the building.

)

While being quiet Eames's mind had gone back to trying to figure out what the third hard line in his relationship with Arthur was, but he continued to draw a blank. Which actually threatened to make him break out into a cold sweat, since Eames did not want to fuck things up between them now that there was just a hint of light at the end of the tunnel. One that suggested that maybe, just maybe, they could be more then colleagues with benefits.

But he did come up with a way to possibly jog his own memory, while also getting some idea of what he would have to do, what lines he would have to respect, if he wanted a real relationship with his favorite point man.

"So Arthur, out of curiosity, what are your hard lines for a real relationship."

Arthur gave him a side glance before turning his attention back to the moderately busy road they were driving on. And was quiet long enough that Eames thought Arthur wasn't going to answer him.

"Monogamy. Honesty. Trustworthiness. Non-smoking. Sleeps only with me, is honest about he wants from and feels for me. About who he is and was. Trustworthy…that I feel I can trust him with myself. The non-smoking is self-explanatory."

Okay. None of that jogged his memory but all of it was perfect. Because he could do those things. Wanted all those things from Arthur, come to that, though if Arthur were a smoker he'd have been fine with that. Which raised the question of his own hard lines, which was something he'd never thought about before because frankly he'd never been in a serious relationship that required him to. And really he wasn't the type to think that way. He wasn't a planner like Arthur, who liked to set down rules so that everything was laid out all nice and neat.

Though in this case…Eames could see how it would be better to do that than jumping into things and learning on the fly.

"I guess…those are usually what people want from their partners. Or society says they should want. Aside from the smoking thing."

"Society is fucked up." Was Arthur's opinion. "And people don't know what they want because the world keeps telling them that the stupidest things are important instead of what actually is."

"Think I should come up with my list of hard lines?"

"Not for another couple of decades, no."

"Couple of decades?"

"By then you'll be past your prime." Arthur shrugged his shoulders a little. "You'll be out of the game for the most part, not traveling as much. You'll be in the right mindset to have relationships that last months instead of weeks at most."

Opening and closing his mouth, Eames didn't know where to start with that. "I will never be past my sodding prime!"

Arthur actually chuckled at him. "Oh I know you'll get plastic surgery, Eames. A mistake, by the way, but that won't save you from aging. It's unavoidable. Unless you get yourself killed before it becomes an issue. That's just as likely."

"You're laughing at the idea of me DYING?"

"No, Mr. Eames, I'm not." Arthur looked, really looked at him for a moment. "But I can't protect you all the time, now can I?"

"Protect me?"

"If you only knew." Was Arthur's cryptic reply. "And as for the rest, since you're primed to argue with me about it, don't. I know you. And I didn't mean it as an insult. It's what elevates you from a bottom feeder like Hugh Donner."

"You're going to have to explain the not being insulted to me, Arthur."

"Both of you want and need more than any one person can give you. So you go from person to person, place to place, seeking out the new because you need it. The difference is you don't make promises and commitments you don't intend to keep."

That was a little better, but not by much since Arthur was basically saying he saw Eames as…as someone who couldn't do real.

"Look, Eames…dammit. Give me a minute."

Willing to do that only because he was too angry to speak at the moment, Eames let the silence rest between them for the next couple of minutes until they were off the road and pulling into a parking spot outside their hotel.

Then Arthur turned off the car, undid his seatbelt, and then twisted slightly in his seat to face him. "Do you want to continue this conversation in here or in one of our rooms?"

"Since I'm guessing we'll be parting ways very soon, it might as well be here."

"Fuck."

"Oh no, Arthur, fuck you. Fuck you if we've known each other for six bloody years and that's what you think of me."

Arthur reached up to swipe a hand through his hair, which Eames knew was one of the top three indicators Arthur had when he was genuinely upset about something. The man did not mess with his hair once styled. "I wouldn't sleep with you if I didn't like and trust you."

"Is that so? Cause you're absolute shite at showing that."

"Eames…I don't know what to say. Or how to say it apparently. Nothing I said about you was meant as an insult. Except maybe the plastic surgery thing. Which isn't why you're really pissed at me."

Actually he was a little pissed about that, he had the bone structure to still look hot when he was old, thank you very much, but no, that wasn't why he was so angry, and explaining why he was so angry would mean revealing the fact that he'd been half in love with Arthur for years now, and had always hoped, in the back of his mind, that someday Arthur would see him as someone worth keeping around. Which, it seemed, was never going to happen, because he…

"So you think that I can't commit. That I'd cheat on you if we were in a real relationship?"

"Eames, you overheard my conversation with Emma, and you've known me for six years. If we were in a real relationship, you'd know to break up with me once you got tired of it. You're smart enough to know I don't make empty threats, which means you'd know I meant it when I said I'd dedicate myself to destroying your life if you fucked around on me."

Eames actually felt a cold shiver go down his spine. Arthur's tone and eyes, even in the dim light from the streetlamp above them…

Oh yeah, he meant it all right.

"Exactly."

"Had a bad experience with a lying cheat?"

"You could say that."

"Wanker."

"In a word." There was something in Arthur's small smile that spoke of deep emotion. "He had, still has, probably, this philosophy and how life's a chess match, and people are the pieces we use, discard, and manipulate to win. It's one of the few things we've ever had in common."

"You're a controlling arse sometimes, Arthur, but you aren't that bad."

"Thanks. Though the idea of people seeing other people as games or toys always made sense to me. Probably because of the sort of people I spend time with." The sound Arthur made was too dark to be a chuckle. "Hugh, for instance, definitely sees people the same way a spoiled child sees toys. He's attracted to the bright and shiny, usually wants what people tell him he can't have, and then either breaks or tosses them aside for the new. Maybe he has special ones he keeps around for whatever reason, like Emma, but he's always got an eye out for this year's must have new toy."

"I'll admit I'm struggling to remember why the two of us are mates. Hugh and I, I mean."

"Because you're loyal. And you knew him back when his behavior could be excused because he was a child at the time. Or at least young enough that his age was some excuse."

"Thanks, I think." Eames had to ask. "Do you think I see people that way?"

"No. You see people as puzzles. Some more complicated than others, both in terms of pieces or the picture they form as a whole. You like them all, though, and putting all those pieces together to understand how they work and who they are is right up there with sex for you. The more time and effort you have to put into it, the better."

"You've given that some thought."

"I have known you for six years."

)

So alright, that didn't sound too bad to him. Arthur was wrong about it being right up there with sex for him, or at least it didn't compare to the sex he had had with the man beside him, but Eames would admit that he found the human race fascinating and did love to find out what made them tick. He loved puzzles too. On the other hand, though, puzzles weren't meant to be played with over and over again. The point was to figure them out and then move on to the next puzzle, after breaking up the old one or maybe gluing the pieces together to make it something to hang on the wall for decoration, as his granddad had done when he was a lad.

"Have I insulted you again?"

"No."

"But?"

"But I don't like the way you seem to see me. Meaning to insult or not."

Arthur stared. Eames stared back.

Eames had no idea how much time passed before Arthur spoke up again, asking him to get out of the car.

Not arguing with that, sitting here exchanging looks with Arthur wasn't going to solve anything after all, Eames got out of the car and closed the door behind him. And then watched as Arthur came around the front of the car to his side.

"I wouldn't drop your laptop bag just to piss you off-"

Eames trailed off as Arthur moved into his personal space, the shock of it quadrupling when Arthur's arms came up and around him. Pulling him up against Arthur's chest in what was, unquestionably, a hug. Arthur was hugging him.

"Arthur?"

"Me talking is only making things worse. This is all I could think of."

"Ah." One to take advantage, Eames wrapped his own arms around Arthur's slender waist and leaned his cheek against Arthur's hair. Arthur would pull away soon enough, and he wanted to enjoy it as long as he could.

Only he didn't.

"You must really be sorry if you're willing to hug me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You aren't one to touch unless shagging is involved, Darling."

"Well then…here's a new puzzle piece for you. One of mine. I don't mind hugging, and I actually love cuddling. I just don't do either with most people for a variety of reasons. And before you ask, you've never tried to cuddle me before or after sex. And I didn't want you to get the wrong idea by initiating it myself."

Tightening his arms around Arthur's waist to insure he couldn't go anywhere, Eames asked what idea that was.

"That I expected more than sex from you."

It occurred to Eames that this was probably a perfect time to state that he did want more than sex, a lot more, but it was also the worst time because Arthur hadn't just handed him one new puzzle piece of himself, but several of them. Revealing ones that were fucking with his perceived picture of him in some really important ways.

He needed to give those pieces time to settle in, and Arthur time to be thinking about something other than cheating or them fighting, before he made a move.