Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.

Arthur sighed and turned over, his hand gently falling against Ariadne. He blinked, and smiled. Both were still fully clad, and she was fast asleep. He leaned over, and kissed her on the cheek.

Standing up, he smiled at himself. His hair was mussed, but he actually looked happy. He smiled again - a proper smile, not the forced rictus grin he'd increasingly adopted. He began to walk downstairs, not caring he was still in clothes from the previous night, or that he needed a shower. He felt happy.

Walking downstairs, he stopped. Eames was sitting in the kitchen. He looked at him, and Arthur swallowed.

"You didn't-" Eames blinked, and tried to focus. "You didn't sleep in your clothes last night, did you?"

Arthur shrugged. "I did." He smiled at Eames again. "I did, and it feels..."

"Uncomfortable?"

"Liberating," the younger man replied. He walked past Eames, and began to busy himself with the coffee pot. "Its called liberating."

Eames raised an eyebrow. "Summer's not very -" he coughed - "happy."

Arthur shrugged. "She can deal with it." He poured coffee beans into the grinder. "I'll call her in a few days."

"Well, you're at work today. So it'll have to wait."

"What?" Arthur blinked.

"You're at work today," Eames repeated, patiently. "Did you forget? You're doing a photoshoot with Jared."

Arthur's heart sank. "Oh, God..."

"And no, you're not getting out of it." Eames pulled his iPhone out and pretended to study it intently. "You are doing this. Now, go and shower, get changed - and I'll see you there!"

Arthur turned and trudged back up the stairs. As he did so, Ariadne began to come out onto the landing. She blushed when she saw him. "Hey."

"Hey," he said, gently, reaching out and touching her face. "You ok?"

She nodded. "I'm good." She smiled at him. "Are you-"

"Have to go to work," he said, grimacing slightly. "Photo shoot. But when I get back-" he grabbed her hand, and pulled it towards him - "we'll talk, ok?"

She smiled at him, and let him caress her fingers. "Sounds wonderful." Leaning over, their lips met, and Arthur headed for the shower.

Arthur walked into the photo studio, feeling apprehensive. Jared was in the middle of the room, barking orders to a flunky who was wrestling with an expensive looking tripod. Arthur swallowed, then flinched as the older man turned and spotted him.

"Arthur!" He smiled, which quickly transmuted into a smirk. "You look so...healthy!" He folded his arms and studied the younger man. "Too much time in Paris, huh? Looks like you might burst out of the suits I want you to wear!"

Arthur met Jared's eyes. "Its called eating, Jared. Its something you do to, oh I don't know, stay alive?"

Jared smirked. "Looks more like something you're doing to get fat." He turned and looked at his flunky. "Hey, got any wide angled lenses? We might need them for Arthur!"

Arthur glared at him. "How do you address your female models, Jared?"

The photographer grinned wolfishly. "Depends on what they look like. One of the asked me last week if the dress was making her thighs look fat. I told her no, the dress isn't make them look fat. They just are fat - and then I told her about a wonderful little operation. Its called liposuction."

Arthur sucked in his breath. "You're sick."

Jared shrugged. "You haven't heard the rest. She was only starting out - so I told her if she couldn't afford surgery, maybe she should try anorexia."

Arthur swallowed, and tried to keep his self-control. "Well, when her parents are visiting her in hospital, hope she tells them what you-"

"That I told her that she was too fat and flabby to do this job?" Jared grinned. "I was only being honest, Arthur. Jesus, I am so sick of these dumpy chicks coming in here, thinking they look good. Whats it coming to when models are fat?" He looked at Arthur, pointedly. "Still, I can make you wear black, and then, you might be in with a chance." He looked up. "Hey, here's the other guy! Robert!"

Arthur turned, and his heart sank. Robert Fischer was approaching them, looking thinner and more gaunt than ever. His face looked drawn, and his skin, Arthur noticed with shock, had a faint greyish tinge. He nodded at Arthur. "Hi."

"Hey," Robert replied. He looked at Arthur. "You look well."

"Thanks," Arthur replied, suddenly feeling huge in comparison to Robert's gaunt frame. He shook his head. I am not going down that path, he told himself.

Jared was fixing up. "OK, gentlemen, if you want to get changed - Arthur, yours are on the outsize end, ok?"

Arthur held his tongue as he followed Robert into the changing area. The suit fitted perfectly - but as he walked outside, he noticed Robert's was sagging on him. He swallowed.

"Robert," he said, casually, "don't you think you're looking a little...thin?"

Robert looked at him. "Arthur, this is as thin as I'm getting," he said, his voice threaded with desperation. "I can't seem to lose any more-"

Arthur bit his lip. "Rob, if you lose more, you'll-" he broke off. Jared was yelling at one of his hapless assistants, and the two men walked outside to the studio.

Arthur blinked. The temperature in the studio was soaring, and the Armani suit he was wearing was weighing him down. Jared glared at him.

"For God's sake, turn to the right!" He shook his head. "I need to get you from your least porky side!"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. An hour of Jared's insults were more than he could take. He began to walk off.

"Arthur!" Jared shouted. "Where are you-"

He shrugged. "I've had enough." He looked at Robert. "You coming, Rob?"

Robert shook his head. "I-"

"No, you stay there," Jared ordered. His eyes flashed. "I need at least one guy in this whose thin!"

Robert nodded. "Yes, of course you-"

Arthur blinked. Robert had teetered, then fallen to the floor. Stunned, he hurried over to the other man. Grabbing his wrist, he noticed that his pulse was erratic, and without thinking, pulled out his cell phone, and dialled.

"Yes, ambulance please," he spoke briskly. He gave the address, ignoring a hovering Jared whose expression was the most unpleasant he'd ever seen. He ignored him, and focused on loosening the other man's clothes.

Arthur swallowed as he sat next to Robert's bed side. The older man was pale, and sleeping. He looked up as a young female doctor entered, clutching a chart. She blushed as she spotted Arthur.

"Is he going to be ok?" Arthur asked, suddenly conscious that he was still in the suit. She swallowed.

"Well, he's malnourished." She looked at the chat she was holding. "And he's underweight. By at least 25lbs."

Arthur nodded. "I thought so."

"You a friend?"

"Yes," Arthur answered honestly. He looked at her. "What are you going to do?"

"Keep him in for a few days. Make sure he eats something." She swallowed. "Is there anything-"

Arthur hesitated. If he told her Robert's secret, he'd never forgive him. "Well, he's-"

"Arthur?" He blinked. Robert was waking up. "Arthur, where-"

"You're in hospital," Arthur said, gently. "Listen, Rob, they're going to take care of you." He got up. "I'll come and see you in a couple of days, ok?"

"Take care of-" Robert's expression became agonised, and he looked from Arthur to the doctor. "No, I can't stay here, and-"

"It'll be ok," she said, soothingly. "Mr Fisher, you just need to eat-"

"NO!" Robert roared, causing her to take a step back. "I'm not staying in here! I'm not! You don't understand, I can't get fat, I-"

Arthur began to back away. Haunted by the pain and rage on Robert's face, he turned, and hurried out of the room, tears threatening to blur his vision.

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