Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.

Cobb walked into the Teacher's lounge, and frowned. There was, he realised, a noticeable diminishing of the number of staff within it. No Arthur, No Eames-

No Eames?

Frowning, Cobb turned and faced the assembled group. "Good morning," he said, his tone clear and pleasant. "I would like to notify everybody of a couple of developments this week. First of all, Varsity sports training has been moved to Wednesday, and also, my Psychology students will be undertaking a mock exam tomorrow. Thats all, thank you. Has anyone anything to add?"

Robert Fischer stepped forward, smoothly. "I do." He cleared his throat, apparently oblivious to the murmuring that was circulating around the room. He raised his voice. "I regret to inform you all that Eames has resigned as Teacher of Drama. Obviously, this is for reasons that I cannot disclose, but myself and Dom will be looking to hire a replacement very soon."

The murmuring hushed - and then exploded into loud mutterings. Cobb turned to Fischer, outraged.

"Robert," he said, his voice cold, "I'll speak to you in my office. Now!"

Fischer turned and smiled at him, in a manner that was almost reptillian.

"I'm afraid you can't," he said, smoothly. "I'm teaching." And before Cobb had a chance to protest, he turned and calmly disappeared out of the door.

Arthur blinked as Eames banged on the door of his apartment. He checked his watch - 7.40am. "Morning," Eames said, pleasantly. "Good to see you're awake - now, come on, lots to do!"

Ariadne was downstairs in the art room, setting up. She frowned slightly as she adjusted the easels in the room, then checked that the light was sufficient for the still life she was instructing the students upon. Suddenly, the door opened, and Fischer came in. He looked at her, and raised an eyebrow.

"Looks like you've lost another of your little circle," he said, coolly. "Must be a little galling for you, hmmm?"

Ariadne flushed. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, trying not to sound defensive. "I'm not part of a little circle at all."

"I mean Eames, and Arthur," Robert said, his voice hard. "Both gone. They didn't hang around to stick up for you - doesn't that bother you?"

She swallowed. "I think they both had their reasons," she said, willing her voice to remain calm. "I think we both know why they're not here."

"Of course," Robert said, smirking. "Because they couldn't do their jobs, thats why." He looked at her. "Of course, when it comes to the hearing...you are going to tell the truth, aren't you?"

Ariadne blinked. "What?"

"You're going to tell them that you flirted with me all night, that Arthur was drunk and couldn't control himself, and thats why he assaulted me." Robert's voice was as cold as ice. "You are going to do this, otherwise, you might find yourself unemployed. And with my connections, unemployable."

She swallowed. "You wouldn't."

"Trust me," Robert said, smoothly. "I would." He smiled at her. "Unless, of course, you're prepared to actually go out with me?"

She looked at him. "I can't-" She straightened up. "No." Her voice was firm. "No, I'm not going to be bullied by you. I am going to tell them the truth - that you were harrassing me, and Arthur stood up for me." She glared at him.

"Ariadne, you're-"

"Suspended?" She interrupted. "You're a joke, Robert. I'm not going anywhere."

He went white with anger. "Ariadne, you are a-"

"Save it," she snapped, then walked to the door. "I have a class coming in. You can go."

Bristling with anger, Robert stalked to the door. As she watched him leave, she sucked in her breath, suddenly feeling afraid of what she had just done.

Robert stalked out of the school, and into the quad. Trying to control his breathing, he looked up. Suddenly, he gasped.

Hanging across the quad, tied to the trees, was a banner with a stark message.

"ROBERT FISCHER IS A LYING BULLY."

Furious, he turned and walked back into the school, only to hear his name being shouted. "Mr Fischer!"

He turned, and noticed a group of students, Twelth graders, were walking towards him. Swallowing, he tried to contol his emotions. The group's collective expression was one of anger.

Mallorie Cobb smiled gently at the young woman seated opposite her. "Now, just tell me everything you can," she said, her voice calm. The student nodded, seemingly unaware of the tears streaming down her face.

"I didn't mean to make Mr Eames resign," she choked out. "I shouldn't have written that note, Mrs Cobb, I shouldn't have done. But he helped me, and I was scared, and I -"

Mal leaned over and patter her arm. "Mr Eames chose to leave," she said, kindly. "He's not in trouble. But thank you for telling me what happened. I'll speak to the Principal."

She got up, and spoke again, her tone low. "You can stay here until you're calm enough to return to class." Opening the door, Mal glided out, purposefully walking towards Cobb's office.

"Why aren't you in class?" Fischer said, trying to mask his fear. A large group of furious Twelth graders made him feel out of his depth. They looked from each other to him, accusingly.

"Why isn't Eames here?" One demanded. "He's the best teacher in the whole school!"

Fischer swallowed. "I, uh-"

"Ever since Ogilvie left, this place is falling apart!" Another practically shouted. "I hated Ogilvie, but he was better than you!"

Fischer blanched. "How dare you-"

"You're a joke!" A large student pushed his way through. "You're a joke, and you're the reason Ogilvie and Eames are gone, and I'm-"

Suddenly, a hand grabbed the student's wrist.

"That's not necessary," Cobb said, his voice calm. He looked at Robert. "Mr Fischer, please go to your office. All of you, please go to my office. Now."

Subdued, and slightly shaken, the students dispersed. Cobb turned to Robert.

"Listen," Cobb said, calmly, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave for the day. Until this is sorted out."

Fischer blinked, stunned. "You're-"

"Robert." Cobb looked at him. "Just go. Please."

Eames looked at Arthur as they settled themselves onto the couch in the former Vice Principal's apartment. Eames lifted one of the bottled beers on the table. "To us," he said, grinning, and took a swallow.

Arthur turned to him. "Don't you think what we did was-"

"Childish? Spiteful?" Eames shrugged. "Yes, it was - but actions speak louder than words. He can't prove the banner was us."

Arthur started to grin. "I guess not."

Suddenly, his cell phone began to ring. Sighing, he pulled it out of his pocket. "Hello?"

"Arthur? Dom. Get over here. And if you can find Eames, bring him too, OK?"

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