Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Nor does 50/50.

"So whats the problem?"

Kyle was slouched, as had become his habit, on Adam's couch. The TV threw images against the wall, and a hash pipe emitted a shimmering haze. Adam slouched back himself, feeling the twinge in his back.

"Well, I..." his voice trailed off, and he swallowed. "I just don't think I'm ever going to be able to satisfy her, you know? Make her feel safe, protected." He reached for the pipe, hoping a hit would cause these painful thoughts to blur into nothingness. "I feel like half a man at the moment."

Kyle turned to him. "The way you're shrinking, I'm not surprised."

"Can't keep much down." He sighed. He looked down at himself, suddenly feeling pitifully scrawny next to his more solidly built friend.

"We ought to go shopping," Kyle said, suddenly. "Get you some new clothes."

Adam blinked. "What?"

"This chick-"

"Her name is Ariadne," Adam interrupted, and Kyle cleared his throat. "OK, Ariadne - if you dress well, I'm sure she'll be impressed."

Adam nodded. "Maybe." He sighed. "But, I don't know. She never mentions any other boyfriends."

"Maybe you're her first." Kyle raised his eyebrows suggestively. Adam blushed. "I hope not. It'll be a disappointment for her, I'm sure."

Ariadne flicked her bishop. It fell, again with a satisfying clunk. She swallowed, and put it upright.

She bit her lip. She desperately wanted to do something for Adam, something to show how much she liked him. In fact, she even allowed herself the thought she was falling in love with him. The thought shocked her slightly. After what had happened six months earlier, she hadn't been sure she would ever want to share a doughnut with another man, and now she was considering sharing her bed. She blushed.

He was so sweet, so gentle. And, she suspected, laid back. A regular guy, who liked beer and to hang out with his friends. He wouldn't just - disappear. Suddenly. Abruptly. Without a word. She took a deep breath, feeling the old wound re-open, but at least it was slightly more numb now than previously. She knew that he might go one day, but to just go, leaving a note...

She shuddered, remembering the days that followed. For two weeks, she'd been in a daze, with Cobb and Eames threatening to go after him, find him, and rip him limb from limb. But she'd persuaded them not to, convinced he'd one day return.

She'd been waiting for that day, the day she'd turn the key in the door of her apartment and find him standing there, apologetically, shamefacedly. But that day hadn't come. And then she'd bumped into Adam, and-

She blinked. Adam. A smile crept to her face. She wanted to take care of him, make him feel special. She bit her lip. She had an idea. Rummaging in her bag, she pulled out her cellphone.

"Do you really think this will work?"

Kyle sighed and checked his watch. Adam had been hiding inside the changing cubicle for at least 20 minutes. He lifted his hand, and rustled the curtain.

"I won't know until you show me!" he said, impatiently. He heard a sigh, then the curtain was whisked aside, and Adam came out.

Kyle smiled. "Wow," he said, approvingly, noting the way the crisp black jeans hugged his friend's lean legs, and the white shirt gave him a touch of elegance. "You look good."

"Really?" Adam raised a hairless eyebrow. "Think she'll like it?"

"She'll like the fact you're dressed up a little," Kyle said, smoothly. He swallowed. "Sure you don't want a tie?"

Adam shook his head. "Please. No."

"Three piece suit?"

"Who wears those?" Adam said, exasperated. He smiled at himself. "No, I think she'll like this."

"She invited you for dinner, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I hope for your sake that when you enter wearing that...you don't even get to dessert."

Ariadne had left the warehouse early, blushing slightly from encouraging words from the Forger. She'd confided in him what she was planning.

"Sounds like a good idea," he'd said, reflectively. "Sounds like what he really needs is to be made aware that you like him."

"Oh, I do," she said, hastily, "but I-" she bit her lip. Eames had glanced at her, sharply.

"Is it because he's sick?" He'd noticed her redden slightly. "Because in that case, I'd make sure that every second with him counts. But, only because its him. Not because he's a substitute, or because you feel sorry for him."

She shook her head. "No, its for him. I mean it."

The Forger had leaned back, smiling. "Go for it."

She blinked, and reaching down, pulled the creme brulee she'd made from the refrigerator. She'd decided on a simple menu - steak, green salad, and french fries - and also grabbed the bottle of white wine. She swallowed, and placed the items on the kitchen counter. Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

Adam relaxed, feeling a glow of warmth spread through him. When she'd opened the door, he'd wondered if he was too over dressed. She was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a neck scarf. When she'd seen him, with a shirt on under his jacket, her jaw had dropped slightly.

"Hi," he'd said, hesitantly. She hadn't missed a beat. She'd pulled him into her arms, and kissed him. "You look nice," she said, smiling. "I mean, really good."

He blushed. He hadn't been complimented on his appearance since his illness was diagnosed. "Thank you," he said, returning the smile. She'd bid him come in, for the meal.

Now, they were curled up together on the couch. He swallowed, looking into her large brown eyes. "Listen, Ari," he said, softly. Her hand had reached out and curled around his. "What is it?"

"I, um," he stopped, swallowing. "I was thinking..."

"Yes?"

"I may not have much time left," he said, softly. "And I don't want to waste it." He looked at her. "I did wonder if i wasn't enough of a real man, not enough for you, but-"

"Adam," she said, softly, putting her finger on his lips, "I did go out with someone who was kind of macho, and you are-"

She leaned forward, and they kissed. A rush of confidence ignited within him, and he pulled her close.

The key turned in the lock. The door opened, with footsteps heading softly down the hallway. The sound of laughter wafted out from the lounge.

"Adam," Ariadne breathed. She felt his hands on her, reaching down her. "Adam, I-"

Suddenly her eyes widened. Adam, noting the change in expression, drew back, puzzled. "Ari, what-"

He turned. And felt his heart sink.

Standing at the entrance to the room was a young man. Easily about Adam's age, but lean, toned, and, he noticed with a sickening sense of inadequacy, a full head of thick, dark hair. Clad in an expensive looking suit - a three-piece suit -, he had his arms folded, and an expression that was anything but welcoming.

Adam swallowed. He was suddenly reminded of his diminshing frame, and his embarrassing lack of body hair. Swallowing, he got to his feet. "Hi."

The other man cocked his head, coolly appraising him. "Hi. I'm Arthur. And you are...?"

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