A/N: Life is a curious thing. Today, it brings you all a long overdue chapter that you will hopefully consume with great pleasure! Lately, for me, it hasn't been so nice. But we are moving forward! Hopefully the updates will return to their past level of frequency. Thank you to everyone who left feedback for the last chapter, it was very much appreciated – if you haven't dropped a line yet, please feel free to do so! I love hearing from everyone out there on the internets; good, bad, or indifferent.

After being held up in Houston by a snow front for twelve hours, both Arthur and Ariadne were more than relieved to finally reach the sunny climes of L.A., even if that sun was fighting its way through a thick layer of smog. After collecting their luggage from the claim area, Arthur hailed a taxi, directing him to the address that Mosi had slipped into his airline ticket folder on a ragged sheet of paper wrapped around a rusty key.

The yellow cab wound its way through the crowded, traffic-choked streets, inching its way deeper and deeper into the urbanity that was the City of Angels. Arthur remained unusually stoic, staring out the window without really looking, responding to Ariadne with short answers, if any at all.

Seeing as how Arthur seemed dedicated to his detachment, Ariadne was forced to think of the situation in which she currently found herself. She debated whether or not she should tell her family she was in town. But they would only have a lot of questions for her and she didn't feel ready to answer them; she could lie to them, certainly – make up some story about needing a break from grad school or finishing her finals early. But she couldn't lie to herself.

And the truth was that she didn't know why she was doing this. But she had wanted it. So bad. And that scared her. For the most part, Ariadne considered herself very even-keeled. She was an intellectual. This desire, this draw – it came from the gut, from deep down in the dark part of her soul where she didn't bother shining a light – she preferred to shine it on others.

She was worried that it wouldn't work that way this time.

So engrossed was she with these thoughts, that she was hardly aware of the passage of the taxi – that is, until Arthur sighed deeply.

"Ah, hell…"

Ariadne forced herself to actually look out the window. The setting was somewhat less than cheerful. Where exactly in L.A. they were, she couldn't tell. The buildings were in various states of decay, some merely sporting a grunge covered façade, others practically rotting, wooden boards festering behind rusted wrought iron bars. The doorways were home to various bedraggled persons, taking big slugs out of brown paper bags or curled up, presumably asleep, faces barely showing. There was a collection of women sitting outside a convenience store on the corner, one or two of them getting up whenever a car drove slowly by. One of them locked eyes with Ariadne for a moment, still conversing with the john in the car, adjusting her chest so it was shown off to its greatest advantage.

"Uh, Arthur?" Ariadne turned slowly in her seat, one eye continually drawn out the window. "Where are we?"

"Great." Arthur watched a police car cruise by; a scowl firmly entrenched on his face. "Just when we don't want the cops involved, she puts us in the middle of a crime zone."

The cab slowed to a stop up the street from the corner store. Arthur stared at the boarded-up building despondently for a moment before pushing his door open to retrieve the luggage from the trunk. Ariadne stepped out onto the sidewalk, blinking in the California sunshine. It was a wide, three-story affair. What was left of the outer walls hinted that it might have been painted a light blue in happier days. The windows were boarded up with graying pieces of wood. Here and there a chunk had fallen out from rot, but for the most part the building looked completely shut up. Shallow steps led to a large door, some sallow-looking gold leaf clinging on for dear life.

"I think this might've been a hotel," she posited aloud, glancing back over her shoulder.

Arthur got his change back from the cabbie and walked around the tail of the car as it sped away, handing Ariadne her luggage. "I doubt it's habitable at this point; looks pretty run down."

They trumped up the stairs, suitcases in hand. Arthur removed the key from his pants pocket. As rusted over as both it and the lock appeared, it slipped into the tumblers effortlessly and turned without protest. He pushed the door open with his foot, wheeling in his luggage behind him.

Nothing could have been as disparate as the outside of the ramshackle building and it's interior. The entrance opened up into a wide lobby that took up the majority of the first floor. The thick blue carpet was worn through in several places, especially at the edge of the wide steps that led down to the check-in desk and lounge area. Smooth oak coffee tables dotted the floor, with various antique chairs, several still hidden under billowing white tarps. The sunlight coming in through the holes in the boarded up windows, combined with the copious number of lamps gave the room a warm, well-lit atmosphere that was almost homey.

Ariadne let the door close behind her, staying on the landing with her bags as Arthur slowly stepped down onto the main floor, looking about appreciatively and nodding. "Wow. This…this is nice. Huh."

"You haven't even seen the rooms yet–" On the second floor landing, Dom shut the door to one of the said rooms behind him, smiling as he made his way down the stairs. "– clean sheets and everything." He skipped the final step, coming down on the carpeted floor with a loud thud. "What Mosi has on this guy, I shudder to think."

Arthur strode forward, holding his rolling luggage up in one hand as he passed Cobb, heading for the stairs. "For once, I don't think I mind."

They shared a smile as they passed each other, but exchanged no other greeting. None was necessary – they had done this a thousand times. As Arthur went up to arrange his things, Cobb moved towards Ariadne, with just the slightest bit of hesitation. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, but he forced himself to look her in the eyes. "Hey, Ariadne."

Ariadne met his anxiety with the most easy-going expression she had in her repertoire, walking down the last few steps to meet him. "Hey!" It was the most she could muster and she soon found herself mimicking his reclusive posture. The silence twisted round them like a garrote. Ariadne's throat felt tight and dry as she choked out, "How are you holding up?"

Cobb shrugged his shoulders. "Well enough." Ariadne kept her gaze steady. Cobb sighed through gritted teeth, lowering his head. "It does feel strange being on this side of things."

Ariadne held her hands tightly behind her back, looking away suddenly. "I can imagine."

Her voice was unaccountably quiet and she knew it. She cleared her throat and shifted in place, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

His hand felt light and warm against her shoulder. She looked back at him when he reached for her and felt the color rise to her face as he said, "Thanks for coming, Ariadne. It means a lot."

And she could see that it really did. This made her own motives for coming all the more unthinkable and convinced her fully that she would try her best to put them entirely out of her mind. She smiled tightly, subtly shrugging his hand off of her shoulder as she responded flippantly, "Of course. Where else would I be?"

Cobb took a step back. She could feel his eyes on her skin, which just made her blush more. It seemed like an eternity before a welcome, familiar voice broke the silence. "Ah! Must've found the right place."

Eames stood in the foyer; a short brown coat thrown over his arm, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder carelessly, slightly unzipped. He ambled down the stairs smiling in his same tired way. "For a moment I was worried." He threw the bag into the nearest chair with a satisfying thunk, tossing his coat over the check-in counter. "Lovely place you have here, Cobb – glad to see you putting your ill-gotten gains to good use."

Cobb shrugged, smiling good naturedly. "Property like this in L.A., you gotta buy low." They shook hands, each one looking a little happier than they had a moment before. "Thanks for coming."

Eames shrugged off the appreciation as well he could, shoving his hands in his pants pockets as he meandered toward Ariadne. "Well anything that promises to be extremely dangerous is my idea of entertainment, you know." Eames flicked a tassel from the end of her scarf from in front of her shoulder to behind, his voice dropping slightly in pitch and tone. "You are looking lovely, my dear."

Ariadne took a small step back, running a hand through her hair as she returned a wavering smile. "It's good to see you too, Eames."

She was relieved when something drew his laughing sea foam eyes from her face. "I suppose you already picked the best room for yourself?"

Ariadne turned to watch Arthur as he dropped from the last few steps onto the landing. He had removed his suit jacket and was rolling his sleeves up to his elbow. He fixed Eames with a bored stare, cocking his head to one side. "Yes, I have the extreme pleasure of being able to watch the prostitutes on the corner at my leisure." Eames raised an eyebrow, his thumb brushing his lower lip as he concealed a laugh. Arthur refused to respond further, walking past him as he inquired, "So, where's Mosi?"

"She had to make a stop off at UCLA–" Eames folded his arms across his chest, surveying the sea of armchairs carefully before collapsing into one. "– she's picking up our chemist."

Cobb's forehead creased as he stepped towards the recumbent forger. "She's not using Yusuf?"

"No, said she'd prefer working with someone she knows." Eames adjusted himself in the chair to maximize his comfort, noting Cobb's anxiety with little concern. "But Mo's always been picky about her chemists, you know that."

Ariadne leaned against the back of Eames' chair. "Why?"

"Her father was one." Ariadne looked at Eames blankly. He continued, waving his hand matter-of-factly. "He practically invented most of the compounds we use."

"Some of the compounds." Arthur cut in pointedly, leaning back against the check-in counter, elbows resting on the pitted wood behind him. Eames shrugged, settling further back into the cushions.

"Seriously?" Ariadne looked around from face to face, finding no expressions that would lead her to believe they were exaggerating. Her brows shot up over her eyes. "I had no idea."

Eames glanced up at her, a small, tight smile appearing on his lips. "You're going to find there are a lot of things about Mosi you don't know."

Ariadne looked down into his eyes, head cocked slightly to one side. "Why?"

"She's very private."

Suddenly, the door flung open with a sharp crack. By the time they all turned their eyes to the entry way, Mosi was already well inside, each hand clutching two or three bags – she must have kicked the door open. She breathed in deep through her nose as she paused there on the vestibule, casting her arms wide. "Ah! Lovely." With an almost cursory, fleeting look she took in the rest of the team. Her look of contentment was quickly replaced with something akin to boredom. Mosi released her breath in a sigh, moving quickly down the front steps to reveal the slight, suited man behind her. "Everyone, Colin Jackson; Colin, everyone." Without any further greeting she moved quickly through the lobby and up the steps, taking them two at a time with bold leaps. The team watched with blank expressions as she made her way to the first floor room closest to the stairs and slammed the door shut.

Colin watched Mosi's departure with a vaguely panicked expression, his soft brown eyes widening slightly. He recovered with grace however, making his way down the steps with an easy smile, throwing his long black coat over one arm and extending his hand. "Hi – it's nice to meet you all."

Cobb took his hand, smiling, but his eyes stayed fixed on the closed hotel room door. He and Eames shared a look, Eames answering with a slight shrug before turning his attention back to the man in front of him. Cobb took the opportunity to slip away from the group, heading up the stairs as quietly as he could. Arthur watched him from the corner of his eye, but said nothing as he knocked on the cherry wood and entered.

The rooms were spacious and voluptuous to the point of ridiculousness. The hotel, at its peak in the 60s, had been styled, as was the fashion at the time, after the prohibition speakeasy hotels of the 20s. The floors were covered with a luscious, deep red carpet. A large wooden wardrobe stood against the wall, perpendicular to a large arched window. A queen bed sat opposite decked out in what was obviously freshly laundered black sheets and comforter. The bathroom opened onto the main room, the pearl white sink and vanity mirror looking out onto the rest of the space.

In the particular room that Cobb had just entered, a pile of beat up tan colored luggage rested atop the bed. The wardrobe stood partly open, the bottom drawer pulled out, a single white towel missing from the stack. As the door clicked shut behind him, Cobb heard the tap in the bathroom turn on. His hand came up to rub his jaw and he stood, leaning back on the doorknob. The tap turned off again. A low groan came from the direction of the bathroom. The lines of worry on his forehead melted away as he smiled. He walked slowly into the room, leaning against the corner of the wall that lead into the bathroom.

Mosi stood in front of the sink, her back towards him. A wet towel was held up to her face, her elbows resting on the tile around the sink. She straightened up when Cobb began to talk, but the towel remained.

"How are you?"

There was a pause as the face behind the towel considered. "I'm okay."

Cobb sat down heavily on the foot of the bed, sighing as he chided. "Don't lie."

The towel growled, Mosi at last appearing from behind it. She glared at him, but the look had no sharpness in it. She tossed the towel behind her, moving to lean back against the bathroom counter, feet crossing in front of her. "I'm holding up."

"Nervous?"

She tossed her head back cavalierly, a smile slicing across her face. "Ha!" The flat expression in his staring blue eyes cowed her slightly, the gash of a smile scabbing over quickly. "Yes." Mosi threw her arms across her chest. "I never was terribly good at the fearless leader bit."

His elbows resting lightly on his knees, Cobb laced his fingers together thoughtfully. "Is that it?"

"Is that what?"

"Taking point?" Cobb's head fell gently to one side, his gaze shifting away from her face for a moment. "Is that really what's bothering you?"

One of Mosi's hands came up to toy with the small heart pendant on the chain around her neck. "If I say yes, are you gonna tell me not to lie?"

Cobb cleared his throat, pulling himself taunt on the bed as he contained a laugh. "No."

Mosi dropped the pendant, using the same hand to shake out her hair. "Then, yes – I'm terrified of the responsibility, oh woe is me, I'm so ill-equipped and unbalanced." She turned her back towards him, hanging the hand towel back over its silver bar. "Satisfied?"

Cobb stood, hands raised defensively. "Hey, you know that with me, your business is your business. I just thought you might want somebody to talk to." Mosi didn't respond, watching him in the mirror with a detached interest. Cobb shrugged, hands falling into his pockets as he made his way towards the door. "I'll tell everyone you'll be down in a few."