Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Thanks to Angelofthemorning78 for the suggestions!

Ariadne sighed, and leaned back in her seat. Checking her watch, she frowned - nearly five thirty. She had intended to leave work at five, but her boss was somewhat persistant in getting her to stay late. And still late. She sighed, and shuffled her blueprints into their plastic folder.

"Ariadne?"

She blinked. The intercom on her desk had spoken. Which meant only one thing. Fischer had spoken. Sighing, she pressed the button, and spoke into the black box.

"Yes?"

"Would you come into my office, please?"

She walked in. Robert Fischer was seated behind the desk, and smiled. She had to admit to herself he was extremely good looking, with glacial blue eyes and thick black hair, framing a pale, oval face. But there was a aloofness, a coldness about him that did not appeal . She swallowed, and he smiled and gestured to the seat.

"Please."

Ariadne sank into the thick leather chair, wondering what he wanted. A young billionaire, Fischer did not need to work, but insisted on coming into the office every day. Mostly, she sometimes suspected, to drink coffee and flirt with the secretaries.

She didn't care. After finishing her postgraduate work in Paris, her mentor, Miles DeLaune, had recommended her for a job at FischerMorrow. It was challenging, but as a junior architect she worked hard, and dilligently. Fischer had even handed her a few rare words of praise.

"I do like the columns," he commented once. She'd shrugged. Fischer really didn't know anything about architecture.

Now, seated before him, she felt nervous. He smiled. "Ariadne."

"Yes?"

"I wanted to ask you something." He swallowed. "In two weeks, its the company's ball, and I need someone to go with. Would you do me the honour...?"

She blinked, stunned. "Why?" she asked, her voice small.

"Well, Ichiro Saito is going to be there. Procleus Industries are moving part of their plant from Tokyo to California, and they need a new building. I'm hoping you could charm them, convince them that we need the contract."

"I-"

"Please, think about it." Robert smiled. "Off you go."

Ariadne, her face flaming, got up and left.


She took the bus home, fuming silently. Fischer really was a user, she decided. But he was essential to her career. She just needed to finish a couple of years, and then move on.

Leaning back, she sighed. She wished she had someone to ask, but her long hours made it hard for her to date. She pressed the bell, got up, and began to walk to the door. After departing the bus, she walked to the front door of her apartment block.

As she opened the main door, and walked upstairs, she heard the sound of swearing. As she turned the corner to her landing, she realised that the apartment opposite hers, that had been unoccupied for a couple of months, had a new tenant. Swallowing, she began to approach.

A young man was standing in front of the door, glowering. He was tall, and she noticed, of a lean, spare build. His features were contorted into an angry scowl, and she looked at him slightly hesitantly before approaching him. He looked up, and blinked.

"Yes?"

"I'm Ariadne, hello," she said, approaching. "I live next door. Are you allright?"

"No," he snapped. "My rental agent gave me the wrong key! So I'm stuck!"

"Oh," she said, swallowing. "Did you call them?"

"Yes, I called them!" His expression was furious, and she almost shrank back. "But they're going to take an hour, and oh, I guess I'll have to find a diner."

"You could come in," she offered. He was not making the best impression, but she felt it was the right thing to do. He looked at her, and checked his watch.

"Sorry," he said, curtly, and turned away.

Slightly shocked at his rude behaviour, Ariadne opened her own door.

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