Disclaimer: As always we'll own nothing but the original characters and the situations all characters find themselves in.

Okay, this proved not to be popular so gonna wrap it up early. Thanks to those who read till the end.

Never Ending

Opening his already alert and aware eyes, Eames smiled to find them cuddling again, the silence of the room broken only by his lover's even breathing and the sound of little kitty claws on hardwood floors as their cats played with something. Good sounds to wake up to in anyone's book. Briefly Eames considered going back to sleep or waking up Arthur for some morning sex, but he'd worn the younger man out pretty damn good before and his lover got damn cranky if he didn't get enough sleep. Not that Arthur couldn't be a very adorable Mr. Crankypants, Eames acknowledged with a grin.

In the end he decided that he'd get up and…hmm, breakfast in bed as a thank you for the night before? Not a bad idea. Arthur hated crumbs in the bed but if he made French toast he could probably talk the other man into it.

Pleased with the idea Eames attempted to move, only to find out that Arthur's arms tightened around him as soon as he tried to slip out of the bed, the other man's eyes opening to look at him, still half asleep but aware enough.

"Go back to sleep, Darling." Eames instructed softly, reaching out to stroke down his lover's bedhead. "I'll wake you when breakfast is ready."

Nodding his head Arthur's eyes slowly started to close again as he mumbled a question he wouldn't have asked if he were truly awake and aware of what he was saying. "We're okay?"

Eyes warm and loving as he continued to stroke Eames smiled, his tone teasing. "Well I'll admit to still being a little peeved that you let that Michael bloke have a dog and not me, but I'll get over it. Now back to sleep, Darling. You obviously need it."

Arthur opened one eye, the lines on his face shifting into confusion. "You want a pug?"

It took Eames a moment to remember what a pug was since he didn't consider the breed a real dog. "Of course I don't want a bloody pug. Girls want pugs, for reasons I can't begin to phantom. Wait…you bought him a PUG?"

"What he wanted." Was Arthur's yawned reply as he snuggled back into the warm covers, a smile on his face now that he knew that things were back to normal. "You want little dog that's okay. Big dog no. Place too small. No pugs though. Ugly things. They look like dogs that have run into a wall a few hundred times."

Laughing at the description Eames leaned forward to kiss the top of his lover's head before getting out of bed to shower and get breakfast going. He had a feeling it was going to be a pretty damn good day.

)

Embarrassed at just how tired he was, especially since it seemed like he was trying to bite back a yawn with every breath he took, Arthur figured that another cup of coffee was going to be a must. Normally he limited his intake but getting old sucked and he'd gotten little sleep the night before and even less that morning. How Eames did love his morning sex, Arthur thought with another yawn, trying not to think about the sheets currently being washed because someone had decided his syrup didn't just belong on his toast. Not that he was complaining about that, far from it since he was still coming off that high, but he did need to give his guests their money's worth and that wasn't going to happen if he fell asleep standing up in the middle of their casino. Though they might get a kick out of it, thinking it was some sort of show for their viewing pleasure.

That was all he needed.

Pressing a hand over his lips to muffle another yawn Arthur quickly ordered a cup of their strongest coffee, double shot of espresso, and took it black this time in the hopes that the bitterness would be another jolt to his system. It seemed to work for Eames, anyway.

Though apparently the night before had energized the man as opposed to tired him out, which was so unfair given that he was the youngest but there you go. Knowing his luck the man would come sniffing around him during their lunch break hoping for a repeat, just so that he could continue to be all smug, the British bastard.

Doing his best not to make a face as he sipped from the mug he was handed Arthur idly turned his attention to the television screen, watching the captions crossing the bottom the screen since the sound was on low.

And then it crossed the screen, the name automatically registering with him so that Arthur straightened and immediately moved closer, his brain picking up three important pieces of information in the two short sentences before it disappeared to reveal the next piece of news from somewhere else in the world.

Slowly Arthur put down the mug, the slight sound it made as it hit the wood sounding like an explosion to the man's ears as every other sound in the room became muted, the people walking or sitting nearby him not even registering. It was like he was in a silent dream, the point man realized in some part of his brain, a dream where there was no sound, no life, nothing but him and his thoughts as he tried to register what was and wasn't his reality.

Moving on autopilot he shoved a hand into his trouser pocket, his fingers hitting both his Blackberry and the die he still carried around with him as a good luck piece. And for moments like this, Arthur silently added as his fingers briefly wrapped around the square piece of plastic, forcing himself to let it go for the time being. There was something else he needed to check first.

Pulling out his Blackberry Arthur's fingers flew over the buttons as he accessed his preferred search engine, typing in three keywords.

Edward Gordon II. Dead. And the current date.

Arthur stared at the links that came up and then slowly accessed the first one.

He read through five of them before he accepted what he was reading. Not that it couldn't be a hoax, it certainly wouldn't be the first time the media had reported someone dead when they were in fact still hale and hearty somewhere in the world. But logic dictated that there was really no reason why three reputable media sources would be reporting the death of his grandfather if they weren't one hundred percent sure that the old man was dead.

A small voice in his head reminded Arthur that he wasn't the only one that could fake his own death in order to get what he wanted, but he couldn't believe that his grandfather would go this far to try and flush him out. If nothing else the stockholders were probably jumping ship already in anticipation of his step father or uncle being named heir to the company. Anyone with brains would be selling their stocks off now before the news flooded the airwaves and no one wanted the shares.

So okay…odds were his grandfather had been found dead in his office five hours ago by a security guard in his building.

Putting his Blackberry back in his pocket Arthur let out a shuddered breath and then retrieved the die, turning to face the counter he'd set his mug down on, rolling the die across the smooth, walnut surface in a practiced move that was part of the ritual.

Okay then.

Pocketing the die Arthur pulled his Blackberry out again, some part of his mind chiding him for putting it away in the first place since it was obvious he needed it. But who could he call? Who could he trust? And of course he didn't need to call someone to confirm, was he an idiot?

Cursing under his breath the former point man shoved the piece of technology into his pocket and headed out without noticing the somewhat worried looks he got from his employees as he headed straight up to his office, locking the door behind him. What he needed to do wasn't ideal on a Blackberry was his only thought, Arthur booting up his laptop as he prepared to do some serious hacking.

Fingers flying over the keys the man had visited and easily hacked into two of the sites he'd needed to look into before he heard his door's handle being turned, the lack of knock tipping him off as to who it was even before the other man's voice came through the wood.

"Arthur, are you in there?"

Moving through the current site like a ghost Arthur didn't look up from what he was doing as he answered, requesting that he be left alone for the next hour.

A long, thoughtful pause followed, Eames obviously debating whether or not he should insist on being let in. They both knew that if he really wanted to get in the forger could pull it off since locks weren't something that could keep Eames out for long.

"You'll let me in in an hour." The forger stated firmly through the door. "And you'll tell me what you've been up to, understand?"

"Promise."

"All right then, Darling. I'll see you in an hour."

)

Sitting back in his seat fifty minutes later Arthur steepled his fingers together and stared off into space, his mind struggling to understand himself. Normally he was incredibly self-aware and this wouldn't be a problem, but for the moment it was. He didn't understand at all his reaction to the verified fact that his grandfather was dead. He'd hacked into his grandfather's office security and had watched it all play out, had accessed the preliminary police report and listened to the recorded 911 message sent by the security guard who'd found him. His grandfather had been logged in at the morgue and his grandmother's shrink had been called to deal with her according to phone records.

So his grandfather was in fact dead.

But he felt nothing. He wasn't happy, sad or angry. It was like a stranger had passed away.

He should be feeling something.

Why wasn't he feeling something?

He was no closer to figuring it out when he got to his feet and walked around his desk to unlock the door when the clock signaled it was time, opening it to find Eames leaning up against the opposite wall, the older man immediately looking away from his watch to meet his gaze.

Walking through the threshold as soon as his lover was out of the way Eames turned around to face Arthur, watching the man close the door behind them. And then Arthur met his gaze and Eames felt the worst of his worry dull, sensing that the man wasn't upset or hurting, just…somehow lost?

"So what's going on?"

"My grandfather died last night. It was on the television and I confirmed it online." And because he could use some input Arthur walked over and took one of Eames's hands, linking their fingers together as he continued to stare into his lover's eyes. "The news…I'm feeling nothing and I don't know why."

Bringing their joined hands up Eames kissed the back of his man's hand before letting them drop back down, mind processing what he'd just been told and what it meant to them. He was relieved as hell that the old man was not permanently out of their life, but Arthur had never been worried about his grandfather so he wouldn't be feeling the same relief. As to why the other man was feeling nothing, "Could you just be too numb by the news to feel anything?" That would make sense, he was feeling more than a little numb himself. In all the scenarios he'd imagined over the month, including kidnappings, inceptions and shootouts, he hadn't ever considered that the old bastard would just keel over dead without a helping hand.

It figured that Arthur would be right about that in the end.

He'd already considered that possibility and rejected it. "No. I've been numb before and this isn't the same. It's like my mind has decided that the news has no impact on me and its wondering why the hell I think I should care or react."

Considering that Eames was silently for a minute or two before he proposed an alternative explanation that felt right to him.

"You aren't feeling him because in your mind he's no one to you. The person you are now is someone he never knew and vice versa. His death changes nothing in your life so your genius brain can't begin to compute why you should care. You have a very black and white mind, Darling."

Arthur mulled that over, getting the feeling that Eames was onto something with that. Over the years he'd imagined possible scenarios of what could happen if his grandfather were to ever find him. He'd imagined a showdown between them, what he would say and tell the old man, how he would rub it in the bastard's face that he'd destroyed everything he'd worked for when he'd chosen to disown his only grandson. The planning had been somewhat enjoyable, but he'd never seriously anticipated it happening. As for the company, well it wasn't in ruin yet, so maybe he'd feel something when that happened. But there were people who were going to suffer because of its destruction so that would probably overshadow his enjoyment.

Squeezing the hand he held Eames posed a question that had started circling around in his brain. "Do you intend to go to his funeral?"

"What? No. I'm fine with everyone continuing to think I'm dead." Arthur's lips curved in the slightest of smiles. "Though I would derive some small, primitive enjoyment at having the chance to shove the fact that I'm involved with a taller, buffer, infinitely sexier Brit in Michael's face."

"Well Felicia might spill the beans yet and you'll still get your chance." Eames purred out, half hoping that it would happen just so that he'd have the chance to stake his own claim and thanks the bastard for being such a colossal dumbass.

"Maybe." Arthur agreed, though he doubted it.

Moving in close Arthur wrapped his other arm around the forger's waist, drawing them closer together as he leaned his forehead against the other man's. "It's probably not a good thing that I'm not upset about his death. He was my own flesh and blood. I should feel something. Even he would have felt something when he heard I'd died. That might have even been what set off his final heart attack for all I know. I mean mostly he would have been upset because of his lack of heir but…no, scratch that, his reaction would have been all about his lack of heir but that's still feeling something technically."

"If you're suggesting that you're anything like the ass who fathered your mum, well that's just stupid. And you're not stupid. You love truly and unconditionally, Darling, if you didn't you'd have shot Dom for nearly putting the lot of us in limbo before. And you definitely wouldn't have it in you to feel pity for the other members of your family whose lives have been just as negatively affected as yours by your grandfather and still left you in the cold."

"What Dom did was wrong but he did do it as much for his children as himself so I've mostly forgiven him…and the rest of my family didn't have my dad for a father. But I get what you mean too." Even though he'd said to hell with love after his loved ones had deserted and betrayed him, he'd still developed a bond with Dom and Mal, had mourned her death right alongside his friend. He loved the children his two friends had made together, he loved the cats he shared with Eames, and he just plain loved Eames.

So yes, Arthur thought as he closed his eyes, trusting the other man to keep him up as he leaned against Eames for support. He was capable of loving still.

Which was why he was perfectly calm and accepting of what had happened, Arthur realized as a flash of clarity zinged through his brain, giving it the answers it sought. He wasn't reacting to the news of his grandfather's death because as Eames had said, he tended to view things in black and white. It was what made him so good when it came to being a point man and so ill-suited for the out of the box thinking Eames and Dom were known for.

At the end of the day his mind knew that the death of his grandfather wasn't important because no matter what scenario had come into play it was always going to end like this. He'd been anticipating the old man's death for years, just as he'd planned his life around Eames once they retired. The life he was living was built around the man holding him and in no way did his grandfather's death impact his life with Eames and therefore it was barely registering emotionally.

To his straightforward, ever logical brain, if it didn't affect his life with Eames he didn't give a damn.

And it was that thought that had Arthur's logical brain coming to the conclusion that he'd been behaving like an idiot in another area of his life and that that needed to be remedied ASAP.

"Eames?"

"Hmm?"

"You do know that if you ever tried to leave me I'd shoot you, right?"

Not quite sure where that had come from, especially given what they'd been talking about moments before, Eames answered with amusement in his voice. "So if you can't have me, no one can? That's not very modern thinking of you, Darling."

"And your point would be?"

"My point would be, my darling point man, that that's never going to happen. But if I should lose my mind and try, well then I promise not to hold it against you that you shot me." Eames framed the other man's face between his hands. "Mind telling me why we're talking about you shooting me? Should I be worried?"

Reaching up Arthur placed his hands over Eames's as he looked his lover dead in the eye, his tone solemn. "I can lose everything in this world but you. Nothing else matters but you."

Swallowing hard Eames smiled weakly and used the words Arthur was obviously still wary of using, unable to stop himself. "I love you too."

Just to be contrary Arthur tried to hide his reaction to the declaration by pointing out that he hadn't used the L word, uncomfortable with all the emotion in the room and how tempted he was to return that sentiment, especially since he could see just how much his man meant it.

Laughing, Eames pressed his lips against Arthur's, the two arguing the point in between kisses until they decided they'd argued enough…for the time being.

This was them after all.

Arguing was just one more way they said 'I love you'.

The End