Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!

"Hey, wake up Ogilvie. Its therapy time!"

Arthur stirred, then opened his eyes. The electric lights were already on, causing him to wince. Mike stood by the bed, tapping his baton in his other hand.

"You don't have to do that." Arthur glanced at him. "I'm coming. So why don't you just fuck off?"

Mike raised his eyebrows. "You're a real charmer, Ogilvie. Really. Is that why your friends visit you none of the time? Or is it because you don't really have any? My money's on the latter."

Arthur glared at him.

"Don't get upset little Prince, or I'll have you in restraints. You need to learn to curb your temper." He prodded Arthur with the baton, the Point Man stood up.

"Back off." His voice was cold.

"What're you gonna do?" Mike's voice was taunting. "Lash out at me? Hit me? Just go right ahead. You're just begging to get the shit kicked out of you. You thought what we did a few nights ago was bad? Trust me, we'll tie you to a chair, force you to open your mouth, and choke you. Jess won't save you this time. It'll just be you, me, and Tom. And an all you can eat buffet just for you. We'd like you to bring your own bucket. What do you think?"

Arthur took another step forward. "I think you need to-"

"Mike!" An annoyed voice can from the doorway. Greenwood was standing there, framed. His facial expression was one of irritation. "Why is my patient not in my office? He was supposed to be there five minutes ago!"

Mike flushed. "Yes, Dr. Greenwood, I'm sorry. Arthur and I were – coming to an understanding." He raised his eyebrows at the Point Man, who looked away.

"You can have your understandings later." The psychiatrist's tone was cold. "My patient and I have an appointment. Do your job, Ellis."

"Yes, Sir." Mike put his hand on Arthur's shoulder, subtly digging his fingers in. He pressed on the exposed bones, and the Point Man gritted his teeth.

"This way, Arthur." Greenwood gestured to a small room down the hallway. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you."

"I've got to hand it to you, Ari, you've surpassed yourself."

The Architect blushed. "Really?"

"Yes. This is excellent. Its so well designed – it may be a small town, but there are so many shops, streets – Arthur's projections might have a hard time finding us."

Eames glanced down the main road of the town. "Here's a question. Maybe I'm very stupid, but why start in a small town?"

"Because there are exposed places, and places to hide. Plus, Arthur is a small town boy." Cobb glanced in the window of a soda shop. "But none of this is based on his memories."

Yusuf turned. "Ooh, look! A cat!"

Ariadne smiled. "I did try and put in as much detail as possible."

Cobb looked over. "You have. Right, show us the next layer!"

Greenwood settled at his desk, smiling at the Point Man.

"Let me explain what this morning's session is about," he began conversationally. "Its really an opportunity for me to get to know you. Know who you are. Start thinking about how you've developed this condition."

"OK." Arthur's tone was noncommittal.

"Right, lets have a look at your file. You're 30. You have a degree in Philosophy from Yale. You graduated Magna Cum Laude. You work as a research profiler. What does that mean, Arthur?"

Arthur shifted in his seat. "I make profiles for people."

"Oh." The psychiatrist looked interested. "And why do you make them?"

"Because its my job."

Greenwood smiled again. "Do you like your job, Arthur?"

"Yes."

"Do you like the people you work with?"

"No." Arthur stopped. That had slipped out, unrealised and venomous.

Greenwood smiled again, like a shark that has scented blood. "Lets talk about that, shall we?"

Cobb smiled as Eames plonked a cup of tea on his desk. "Here. Cure for all life's ills. According to my dear old mum."

"Thanks." Cobb picked up the cup, and took an appreciative swallow. He leaned back in his chair, and stretched.

"Christ alive," Eames breathed, "you're starting to relax, Dom!"

"Don't sound so surprised." Cobb turned back to his laptop, and started electronically filing Ariadne's blueprints. "It does happen."

Eames grinned. "No, its just – you seem more sure of yourself at the moment. Is it because we've seen what Ari's been working on?"

"No." Cobb took another sip of tea. "Its because Arthur's out of our hands, and we need to focus. He's not here, I've accepted that."

Eames nodded. "Good. Progress."

The office felt stiflingly warm. A trickle of sweat ran between Arthur's shoulder blades. He took a deep breath.

"Lets talk about the people you work with." Greenwood was leaning back in his chair. "Why do you dislike them, Arthur? Whats wrong with them?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "They are – they are-"

"Yes?" Greenwood's tone was gentle. "They're what, Arthur?"

"They're just - They don't appreciate me. They don't even like me!" He sniffled, feeling tears welling up. The psychiatrist smiled, sympathetically.

"Have a tissue," he proffered a box, Arthur pulled at one, and wiped at his eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Greenwood leaned forward. "You can confide in me Arthur. Often, an eating disorder hints at suppressed anger, suppressed emotions. You can't tell the people you work with how you feel, so that makes you angry. And the fact you can't express it makes you angrier. The only way you have to reveal it is to binge, and then purge. Does that make sense?"

Arthur nodded.

"Do you repress your feelings in all areas, Arthur? Do you find it hard to express how you feel?"

The Point Man nodded, again.

"Do you find it hard to express how you feel physically, as well as emotionally?"

Arthur swallowed. "What do you mean?"

Greenwood smiled kindly. "Are you a virgin, Arthur? Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"Listen, Dom…"

Cobb looked up. "Yes, Eames?"

"We do need to talk about Ariadne. Seriously."

Cobb sighed. "I agree." He pulled the top of his laptop down and turned to the Forger. "What do you think is the problem?"

"Its fairly obvious. She's crazy about him. Massive crush. Thinks he's perfect – or rather, she thought he was perfect. When he went over to her place, part of her probably wanted to turn him in. The other part of her probably wanted him right there and then."

"So, you think Ariadne's in love with him?"

"Not love." Eames pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket, opened the box, and took one out. "I think she's in love with her idea of Arthur, and that's been completely shattered."

Cobb smiled wryly. "Arthur's no saint, Eames. I could tell you a few things."

"Oh, I'm sure." Eames put the cigarette in his mouth. "He is 30, I'd be surprised if he wasn't. But…Ariadne doesn't see him that way. Think about it. You're 23, you suddenly get called up to do a job, a mysterious job. And there's this guy…handsome, enigmatic, elegant. He's self-confident, self-possessed. You think he's amazing. You go to bed, you dream about him. Wish he was yours. And then you discover the truth, that he makes himself vomit, and his teeth are rotting. That he secretly despises himself. And then you worry he despises you."

Cobb swallowed. "Do you think she should join us in the inception?"

Eames shrugged. "Its up to her. But I know that she has projections of Arthur. And they're not pleasant."

The ticking of the clock on the wall was starting to irritate Arthur. He looked at the placid face of the psychiatrist.

"No, I'm not a virgin." His teeth were gritted. "And I don't have a girlfriend."

"Do you want one?"

"Yes. But she doesn't want me. And she never will."