Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.

Ariadne turned over. Arthur was fast asleep, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. Swallowing, she got up, and began to pad through to the kitchen.

As she filled the kettle with water, she realised her mind was churning. She wanted to help him - she was insecure about her appearance, the result of years of bullying about her weight - but Arthur, she recognised, had the potential to implode completely.

She began to make coffee, suddenly settling on an idea. She peeked into the bedroom - Arthur was still fast asleep. She hurried back into the lounge, and grabbed her cellphone. Back in the kitchen, she took a deep breath, and began to dial.

After a few seconds, a voice came through. "H'lo?"

"Eames?" She spoke, carefully. "I need you help."

Eames sat on the balcony of his small, cluttered apartment, drinking tea. He had always preferred it to coffee - a sign, he believed, of his defiant Britishness.

His conversation with Ariadne had disturbed him. Forge himself as Arthur's father. To try and help the younger man with an issue he was wrestling with - he shook his head, and took a swallow of tea. He didn't know if he could. Especially with what Ariadne had told him.

"An eating disorder?" He'd spluttered. "Arthur?!"

"Well, not really. He has a problem with food." She bit her lip, feeling like a grade A hypocrite. "He, um, finds it hard to eat n public."

"And you're telling me he has daddy issues? Ariadne, you only have to look at how he dresses to work that one out."

She shook her head. "Eames. Please."

"Oh, all right. As you asked nicely." He yawned. "Now, can I go back to sleep, please?"

"What time is it?"

"Its just after five."

"Oh," she said, embarrassed.

"Go back to bed."

She put thee phone down, and then walked back to the bedroom. Arthur was stirring, murmuring. She crawled back between the sheets, and lay down next to him. Reaching out, she spread her arm over his chest, and he reached up, grabbing her hand.

"Hey," she said, softly. He squeezed her hand, then let it drop. She blinked, turning over. As she closed her eyes again, he suddenly spoke.

"Who were you talking to?"

Ariadne's eyes flew open. He had taken her by surprise, and she turned over again. "Um, Arthur, I-"

"Who was it?"

She swallowed. She realised she had no choice but to tell him the truth. He was leaning on his elbow, looking directly into her eyes. She took a deep breath. "Eames."

"Eames?" Arthur's eyebrows drew together in a puzzled frown. "Why were you calling Eames?"

"I thought he could-"

"Yes?" Arthur's eyes were dark and challenging. "What?"

"I thought he could forge for you. Be your father."

Arthur fell back on his back, speechless.

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