Dreamshare goes legal, Arthur goes corporate, Eames goes and (against his better judgement) falls in love.

Getting dragged in by the FBI is not exactly the way Eames had planned on spending the weekend. He's even less amused when it turns out that Arthur's the reason for it. [Set of gorgeous story illustrations.]

A notorious serial killer returns after a three-year hiatus, reminding Detective Arthur Moss of the infamous case he couldn't close. But when the FBI becomes involved, Arthur is forced to work side-by-side once again with Special Agent Daniel Eames, a man who knows Arthur better than Arthur himself will ever admit. Both men must confront their past and heal old wounds in order to bring a psychopath to justice.

The thing about the lists was that Arthur had never meant them. He had never really wanted a life in which he did things that were out-of-control and stupid and self-destructive. What he really wanted was a great job and someone he could go to the gym with and talk to and share good wines and theater tickets with. Someone who looked like he belonged in a suit and had a wry smile and got Arthur's pretentious jokes and was prepared to stay up late drinking wine and watching late night television. Someone classy. It was just that sometimes, when his actual life got too stressful, he liked to pretend that he was stupid, that he wanted – something different.

Roman AU. Arthur is a military tribune, Eames cheats at dice, and the result is a merry chase

"Actually, do you know what this whole place reminds me of?" Eames says, gesturing around the room with a whirl of his hand. "Arthur. Look at it. It's the Victorian Country Home version of expensive ties and silver suitcases and never getting anything stuck in your teeth."

Arthur won't fuck her inside their dreams.

Eames won't touch her outside of them.