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

"Ariadne!" Arthur knocked on the door of Cobb's apartment, praying she would listen to what he had to say. "Ari, its Arthur, let me in!"

He waited. He heard a click, and then the sound of a bolt sliding back. The Architect stood in front of him.

"Hey."

"Hey," he replied, the words sticking in his throat. He licked his top lip, nervously. "May I come in?"

She shrugged. "Of course."

He followed her into the familiar rooms of Cobb's apartment, and never ceased to marvel at how few personal possessions the Extractor had. Arthur knew that Cobb had never really recovered from Mal's death, and seemed to feel that giving any hint of trying to re-build his life would betray her memory.

"Coffee?" Ariadne's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Water, please."

She nodded, and turned on the faucet. Arthur sat down at the kitchen table. An uncomfortable silence descended. Arthur swallowed, she looked away. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Ari – I need to talk to you about-"

"About what?"

"About what happened." He paused.

"What happened is that you went into a psycho's head, opened yourself up, and freaked." Her tone of voice was flat. Arthur was startled.

"I take it you've been talking to Eames?" He commented, dryly.

"No." Ariadne fixed her eyes on his. "I can come up with my own opinions as well."

Arthur looked into his water glass. "Ari…please let me explain. I was scared. I feel really out of my depth with this case, more so than I've ever done so before. Rafe Lloyd is clever, dangerous, and calculating. And he will kill one of us if he has to."

She blinked. "I've never heard you say anything like that before."

"Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a robot." Arthur said, a touch defensively. "I know what I did was stupid, but…" his voice trailed off. "I'd better go."

"Wait." She put her hand out, as though to stop him. "I'm not judging you Arthur!"

"No, you're not," he said, with a hint of bitterness in his voice. "You've already made up your mind. I can still protect you, Ariadne, but you need to trust me."

With that, he grabbed his jacket, and left, leaving the Architect staring into her coffee cup.

"Arthur-" she called out, only to hear the front door click shut.


Eames kept his eyes trained on Rafe's. The black haired man was clearly enjoying the attention.

"So, what do you do?" Eames asked, casually.

"I'm a scientist."

"Really?" Eames took a sip of scotch. "Bit of a Frankenstein, are you?"

Rafe smiled. "God, you're funny." He took a swallow of vodka. "It's a very attractive trait."

"I do my best." Eames kept his tone casual.

"I'm sure you do." Rafe leaned back in his chair. "Do you want to head somewhere else?"

Eames shrugged. "Why not?"

Rafe grabbed his jacket. "Lets go."


Arthur went to the warehouse. He felt he needed time to think, and in solitude. Going to the tiny kitchenette, he flicked the switch on the kettle.

His mind was buzzing. Fran's story had been so convoluted, so convenient. He was beginning to feel a deep well of mistrust for the psychiatrist, who still appeared to be hiding something.

"Her sister…" Arthur muttered under his breath. He began to mentally trace the patters – she had been married to Rafe Lloyd, who had admitted he had been married in the dream.

He clicked his fingers. Internet. He could trace the family tree in seconds. Taking a scalding swallow of coffee, he switched on his lap top.


"So, are you ready to go?" Rafe was smiling at Eames, who was already sliding his arms into his jacket.

"Of course," the Forger replied. "Lets go."

As he followed Rafe out the door, Eames steeled himself.


Cobb smiled at Fran, who reciprocated.

"Thanks for clarifying."

"No problem." She took a sip of coffee. "You're worried about Arthur, aren't you?" She asked abruptly.

Cobb fiddled with his mug. "Yes. Never seen him like this – its as though he's breaking apart."

She sighed. "Well, I'll try and help – but you still want to go ahead with extraction, right?"

Cobb nodded. "Oh, yes." He checked his watch. "I'd better call Eames." He pulled out his cellphone.


Arthur ran through the files. "Roberts…Roberts…" he muttered. He slammed his hand on the desk in frustration when the search came up blank.

"Unless," he mumbled, "your surname isn't your real name – what are you hiding, doctor?"

He moved the mouse to the browser, and began to search college files. Suddenly, he gripped the desk, his eyes widening. Swallowing, he reached in his pocket to pull out his cell. Flipping it open, he scrawled down to Cobb's name.

"Answer, please," he muttered.


"Its pretty small," Rafe apologised, " but its adequate."

Eames nodded. "Sounds perfect."

As he followed Rafe us the stairs, he instinctively moved his hand to his side for his gun. He was itching to put a bullet in this vile excuse of a human being. Rafe moved into the main part of the apartment. "Make yourself comfortable!"

Eames merely stood. He had no intention of making himself comfortable.


"No answer." Cobb switched off his cell. "Strange."

"Maybe he's on his way over here?" Fran suggested.

Cobb frowned. "No, he'd have rung. See if I can get hold of Arthur."

"Oh, here I am, sorry," Rafe apologised, walking back into the living room. As he walked in, he stumbled slightly, his arms moving towards Eames. Eames involuntarily stepped aside, only to feel something sharp penetrate his thigh.

The Forger staggered back, his head suddenly filled with swirling blackness. In desperation, he grabbed at his totem, only to sin down and collapse on the carpet.

Rafe looked at him, and curled his lip. "Sweet dreams."