"OK, Princess, talk to me." Eames was in the small kitchen of his apartment, making tea. "I always like to talk to you, but it is nearly midnight."

Ariadne wiped at her eyes. As the Forger had approached her in the hallway, she'd begun crying as though she'd never stop. He'd merely put his hands on her shoulders, directed her towards the doorway of his apartment, and pointed her to a chair, while he headed to the kitchen. After a few minutes, he re-appeared, carrying two steaming cups of tea. She accepted one, gratefully.

"Well, I went to see Arthur-"

Eames eyebrows shot up. "Brave. And dare I say it, dangerous."

She took a swallow of tea and nodded. "He was-he was-"

"Bingeing?"

"Yes." Tears filled her eyes again and threatened to break loose. "It was-"

"Probably like watching an animal." Eames finished the sentence. "Like watching someone completely out of control."

She nodded.

"Ariadne-" Eames leaned forward, his voice gentle. "Arthur really isn't himself at present. I know Cobb is planning to-"

"Put him in a clinic." She looked at the Forger. "But will that help?"

Eames sighed. "It might. I've told Cobb I'd have him here for a few weeks, feed him myself. Doubt that would go down too well."

"But what will they do to him in a clinic?"

Eames raised his own mug. "Try and make him eat. Make him digest it. Tell him its all because of his parents. I think inception is a much better idea, but Dom just seems convinced that clinical treatment is the best way."

"But if he's in a clinic…" the Architect's eyes were beginning to brighten. "If he's in a clinic, we could actually get to perform inception – if we could get him sedated and-"

Eames put his mug down. "You could be right." His cellphone shrilled. "Excuse me."

"Mr. Cobb. Its very late."

The Extractor sighed. "I know it is, Mr Saito. I'm sorry. I need to talk to you about Arthur."

"Are you going to accept my offer, Mr. Cobb?"

Cobb paused. "Yes."

There was a silence.

"I know it sounds drastic, Mr Saito but-"

"Oh, no, not at all." The Magnate's voice was smooth. "Come and see me tomorrow, Mr Cobb. I can certainly arrange something."

"Thank you." Cobb's mouth had gone dry. He clicked off, and re-dialled.

Arthur was pacing his apartment. He was too angry to sleep, yet knew if he left the building, he'd simply buy more food. His fingers itched. There was the phone, and takeaway service…

He swallowed. He reached for his cell, and opened it. Keying in a number he knew by heart.

"Good evening, Perfect Pizza", a friendly male voice answered.

"Oh, hi. I'd like a….12 inch Hawaiian, an 8 inch Pepperoni, and three pieces of cheesecake. People have turned up unexpectedly," he lied.

The guy laughed. "Oh, not just a midnight snack for you, then?"

Arthur felt himself burn with embarrassment. He felt himself become acutely aware of his swelling, bulging flesh. Did this prick want the money for the pizzas or not? "Listen," he said harshly, "if you don't want my custom I can always go-"

"No, I'm sorry." The guy sounded panicked. "It was a bad joke, I'm sorry. Consider the pizzas on the house. We'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Thank you." Arthur hung up, feeling tense.

He got up and began to pace.

"Right, sorry, love, I've got to go and pay a late night visit." Eames was pulling on his jacket. "Stay here as long as you like – blankets are in the cupboard if you feel sleepy."

Ariadne looked up from the large black cat that was sprawling in her lap. "Was it – Cobb?"

The Forger nodded. "Yep, job to do."

The waiting was unbearable. The minutes seemed to drag, and Arthur felt himself dragging with them. His stomach gnawed and whined.

Going into the bedroom, Arthur started to undress. Standing in front of the mirror, he began to examine himself. Everything was still buried under a mass of fat, despite his efforts to rid himself of it. Who cared if he kept on bingeing? The only reason Cobb was so concerned was due to the sheer inconvenience of having to find a new Point Man. It would suit him to shove Arthur in a clinic, get him hooked up to an IV, let a therapist ramble about how damaged he was.

What did they know? Why did they keep trying to control him? He could have had her, he knew he could have done. He felt himself burn with humiliation. Undressed to his boxers, he reached for his bathrobe.

Tying it tightly around his waist, he walked back through the apartment. The doorbell rang.

"Coming!"

Hurrying to the door, he pulled it open. His face froze.

"Hello, Arthur, and thank you, I will come in." The Forger strode right past him.

"Eames?" Arthur felt a surge of impotent rage. "What- What are you-"

"Doing here? Thought I'd come round for a late night chat. Yes, I will sit down, and if you're making coffee, black please. I'd ask for sugar but feel that could be somewhat insensitive."

Arthur glared at him. "Look, I'm going to-"

The doorbell rang again. "Don't worry, I'll get it!" The Forger strode and pulled the door open. The Pizza delivery guy was standing with two carboard boxes of pizza, and a plastic box of three pieces of cheesecake.

"That'll be $25." The Delivery man spoke quietly. Eames pulled out his wallet, and handed him thirty. "Keep the change."

"Thanks." The guy disappeared down the corridor. Eames shut the door, holding the boxes.

"Eames." Arthur's voice was low. "Those are mine."

Eames looked at the warm containers. "Are they? I paid for them."

"But I ordered them. They're –"

"Mine." Eames looked at the Point Man. "They're my pizzas, and my pieces of cheesecake. If you don't mind, I'm actually pretty hungry, and this will hit the spot." He started to open one of the pizza boxes.

"EAMES!" Arthur was starting to turn red, and his voice was rising. "I ordered them. GIVE THEM TO ME!"

"ooh, temper, temper," the Forger dodged the Point Man, who was trying to swipe at him. "Whats the magic word, Artie?"

"Give them to me," Arthur practically gasped out the words, his breathing going ragged. "Give me them! I ordered them, they're mine, and I want them! You can't just take them from me!"

"I already have."

The sheer languidness of Eames voice, and his refusal to hand over the food, seemed to tip the Point Man over the edge.

"GIVE THEM TO ME, YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!" His voice had lost control, and he was screaming the words. Moving forward, he leaped at the Forger, reaching for his face.

Eames dropped the boxes on the floor. The plastic container for the cheesecake flew open, causing it to crumble and smear. The pizza boxes smacked onto the floor, causing the slices to separate.

"You want it, Arthur?" Eames' voice was loud. "Well, get down on the floor then, and eat it, if you're so desperate! You're so desperate for a slice of fucking pizza, you'll go for my face? You're so determined to prove there's nothing wrong with you, that you'll reduce Aridane to tears, even when she walks in on you stuffing yourself? You ring Cobb, who is almost beside himself, and berate him for trying to help you? What have you turned into Arthur, what have you turned into? Maybe we should have just let your honey this evening leave you to burn!"

With a look of disgust, the Forger turned to leave. He felt something grab at his leg.

"Eames, please-" Arthur gasping and struggling for breath. "Please, Eames, I need-"

Eames knelt down. The younger man's face was red and streaked with tears. His bathrobe had slipped off his left shoulder, exposing his prominent, jutting collarbones.

The Forger opened his arms.

"Come here, you fool", he said softly. The Point Man, briefly unable to comprehend this gesture of kindness, broke into loud sobs, and threw himself into Eames arms.

"Shhh," The Forger rubbed his back. "Shhh, it'll be ok."

Arthur, sobbing against Eames' shoulder, didn't stir.