Turning to lean against the wall, arms up and folded before him and his brow resting on his arms. Presenting his back to Arthur with a crooked grin that could be heard in his tones. "You can keep doing that, if you want."

Because it was these things they were going to hold to. The moments they shared that they could both talk about having later but couldn't guarantee would come. They could die. Worse, there was limbo. Then there was that fear Eames had held since he got the call. The fear of losing his mind enough that even if he came back, he wouldn't ever be able to tell reality from the dreams again. Like Mal.

"And he's been in our bedroom, and now shower, enough. Let's talk about us."