Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.

Arthur stood in the teachers' lounge, trying to look imposing. He noted every other member of staff as they walked in - some with enthusiasm, others as though they were on their way to a funeral. Feeling eyes upon him, he straightened his jacket and vest. Eames winked as he walked past.

"Nice one, Artie," he grinned. "Trying to look serious and proper!"

Arthur found himself reddening again, and inwardly cursed the Head of Drama. "Eames. Being VP is supposed to-"

"Oh, I know, save it-" the other man's attention was caught, and he turned his head. "Hello, sweetness. Now where have you been all my life?"

Arthur bit his lip, frowning as he saw who had caught Eames' attention. Ariadne had walked in, her expression uncertain. She was clutching a large black portfolio, and scanning the room.

"I think I'll make her welcome," Eames said, turning to Arthur with a grin that only the devil could have conjured up. "See you in a bit!"

Arthur opened his mouth. "Eames-" he broke off as Cobb approached. The Principal was wearing a light blue shirt, and dark trousers - no tie. Arthur found himself feeling dull and humourless in comparison to the older man's more informal dress code. As if picking up on this, Cobb turned and frowned slightly at the younger man.

"Relax," he whispered. "Relax!"

Arthur nodded, looking out for other familiar faces. Yusuf had wandered in, looking rumpled. Robert Fischer had also entered. Arthur frowned slightly - Fischer was a thorn in the side of the entire staff. The son of an obscenely wealthy magnate, he'd turned his back on his father's empire and gone into teaching, specialising in business and economics. As he was fond of constantly reminding everyone, he didn't need to work - his monthly allowance was more than enough. He just wanted to show "some independence."

Arthur shook his head, and took a step back, as Cobb stepped forward.

"Welcome back!" he said, his voice easy and natural. "I hope you all had a restful break." He paused, and shuffled the notes he was holding in his hand. "Just one announcement from me. Following the success of upper-classmen psychology last year, specifically the course focusing on the science of dreams, I'm taking on more teaching duties. Which means that the line management of all teaching staff this year will be conducted by my Vice Principal, Arthur Ogilvie. Any problems, concerns - please take them to Arthur."

There was a sudden silence amongst the staff - and Arthur suddenly felt exposed. He turned to Cobb, feeling angry. He knew he was not especially well liked amongst his colleagues - "humourless," "demanding", and "sourpuss" were three of the words he'd heard associated with his name - and the prospect of being responsible for everyone was overwhelming. He noticed Eames was grinning at him, broadly. He scowled, which caused the science department to look at him with surprise.

"And another thing," Dom continued, clearly unaware of his vice principal's discomfort, "we have a new Art and Design Teacher. I'm very pleased to say there is a family connection - Ariadne Henderson studied at the Paris Institute of Art and Architecture, under my father-in-law, Miles DeLoitte. Please make her welcome!"

A rippled broke out, murmurs of approval. "A French speaker!" he heard Mal exclaim. "Oh, that will make life easier!"

Ariadne blushed. "Hi everyone," she said, shyly.

"Welcome to you," Cobb said, smiling. "Any problems, please see Arthur!"

"Er, Dom," Eames called out, "only if they're of a specific nature, such as not enough paintbrushes or too small easels. Any problems that need emotion, Ariadne, come and see me!"

An outburst of shocked laughter greeted this, which was quickly hushed. Arthur felt himself go scarlet, and he glared at Eames. The Forger caught his eye, and smiled, placatingly.

"I just know how busy you are, darling, counting your paperclips!"

To hear the VP referred to in such a disrespectful way caused the staff to break into genuine laughter. Arthur felt a surge of anger and embarrassment. No matter how well he did his job, or how hard he tried, he knew he would never be everyone's pal, like Cobb, or the life and soul of the staff, like Eames. No, he was Arthur Ogilvie, Vice Principal, and that essentially said it all.

He ran a hand over his gelled back hair, and stepped forward. Clearing his throat, he waited for everyone to be calm.

"One of my responsiblities this year," he said, in a voice that sounded more haughty than he intended, "is lesson observation. I will be coming into people's lessons to check on what is being taught, and the progress our students are making."

"Oh, damn," he heard Eames say, "does this mean we actually have to teach them something?"

Another ripple of laughter greeted this, and Arthur could feel himself growing angrier by the second. Cobb shot him a placating look, but the vice principal was too fired up. He stepped forward, again.

"Forgive me for wanting our students to get results," he snapped. "Know what they are Eames? They're the grades they get."

Eames smiled, broadly. "Your condescension, as ever, is much appreciated Arthur, thank you!"

Yusuf shot Eames a look. "Eames."

Arthur felt his ego deflating at a rapid rate. The Head of Drama was making fun of him, and it was left to the Head of Chemistry to intervene. He glared at Eames.

"Oh, put me in detention, Arthur," Eames said, breezily. "You know you want to!"

Arthur had heard enough. Feeling goaded, and angry, he turned and walked out of the lounge, straight to his office. He could still hear the laughter ringing in his ears. Going straight to the water cooler, he poured himself a glass of water, and gulped it down, trying to cool himself.

"Hey!" Mal hurried in, her face slightly distressed. "Arthur, please don't get upset. You know what Eames is like!"

Arthur glared. "I do." He took another gulp. "I'm the Vice Principal, for God's sake!"

Mal smiled, gently. "Maybe if you weren't so hung up-" she broke off. A soft knock at the door interrupted her, and they both turned. Ariadne stood in the doorway, hesitantly.

Arthur looked at her. "Yes?" he winced as he heard his voice - it was more snappy than he'd intended. He put the cup down, and rubbed his forehead. "Can I help you?"

She looked at him. "Um...I'm supposed to be meeting you. It says so on my-"

"Oh, don't worry, Artie!" Before Arthur could speak, Eames had barged in. He turned to the young woman, smiling at her. "I'm Eames, Head of Drama and Literature. I'll show you to the Art Room - its opposite my room!"

Arthur looked at Eames. "Eames, I'm in char-"

"Arthur's a very busy man," Eames continued, nonchalantly. "He's responsible for making sure we don't waste paper, mark our books, enforce our dress codes. He's very important."

Ariadne looked at the rigid VP, and stifled a giggle. "He is," she said, trying to look serious. She turned to Arthur. "Its ok, Mr Ogilvie. Eames will help me."

Arthur swallowed. "Its Ar-" he began, but too late. Eames had decisively taken Ariadne's arm. Feeling angry and embarrassed, Arthur sat at his desk, and glared at his mountain of paperwork.

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