Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.

Ariadne took a deep breath. "OK, lets see if we can make sense of this. You can't go and accuse members of staff of not doing their jobs."

"We can if they're not!" one of the boys shouted. Ariadne bit her lip, suddenly feeling woefully inadequate in the face of this much hostility.

"Ms Henderson," Bethany spoke. "We're just worried, about our grades. These are important assignments, and Mr Fischer hasn't marked them!"

"OK," she said, trying to stay calm, "I'll ask. But, please, I don't want to hear any more criticism of-"

Suddenly, the door opened, and Cobb stepped in, followed by Arthur. There was an audible intake of breath, and the younger man could feel himself reddening. Cobb spoke first.

"I don't expect,"he said, calmly, "to have one of my members of staff literally run ou of his classroom by students." He looked round the group, his expression grave. Ariadne could see heads beginning to bow.

"If you have a problem," Cobb continued, "there are better ways of dealing with it, more constructive ways of dealing with it, than arguing with staff." He raised his eyebrows. "Does anyone have anything to say?"

The class was silent. Cobb nodded. "Good. In that case, I'll tell Mr Fischer to come back in-"

"Just don't make him Vice Principal anymore," a voice muttered. Cobb turned, frowning slightly.

"Would you care to repeat that?" He kept his tone neutral, but both Arthur and Ariadne could hear the irritation seething underneath.

"Mr Ogilvie's back, isn't he?" the student insisted. "Can you re-instate him?"

Arthur stepped forward. "Look, guys." He paused, waiting for the group to look at him. "I appreciate that you've been unsettled, by the change. But making Mr Fischer's life difficult isn't helping. All I ask is that you treat him with courtesy and respect, ok?"

The group were muted by this, and several nodded. Arthur nodded back, then turned and left. Cobb hurried after him, leaving Ariadne with a much calmer class.

"I need to talk to you upstairs," Cobb muttered. "OK?"

Arthur nodded. "Sure."

Eames sighed, and rubbed his forehead. Planning for his eleventh grade class was proving to be a Herculean task. He bristled as he thought of Oleanna.

"Banned from speaking out," he grumbled. Suddenly, he heard a commotion in the corridor. Frowning, he put down his coffee cup, and left the Staff lounge.

His eyes widened. Two boys were practically pushing a girl up against the lockers. "Oh, come on, you know you want to!" One of the boys insisted, in a sneering tone.

"No, I-" she stuttered out. Her face was flushed, and Eames could see tears beginning to spring to her eyes. "Please, leave me alone!"

"Hardly, you slut!" One of them snarled at her. "I've seen the way you-"

"Oi!" Eames roared, causing them to jump. "What do you think you're doing?"

The boys turned, surprised, and glanced at him. "Oh, nothing," one said coolly.

"Don't speak to me like that," Eames snapped. "I can see you're being upleasant. Leave her alone, now!"

The other boy eyeballed Eames, who glared back with a look that froze him to the marrow. "OK," he mumbled, "we'll go." Turning, the two boys began to slouch off, giving Eames frosty backward glares.

She turned, and blushed slightly. "Thank you."

"No problem," Eames replied, kindly, and headed back to the staff lounge, unaware that her eyes were following him.

"Arthur, its good to see you," Cobb said, sitting down heavily in his desk chair. "But, its a little controversial."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Thanks."

"But, I do have some news." Cobb smiled. "Ariadne is prepared to testify at the hearing."

"Really?"

"Yes. And hopefully," Cobb said, leaning forward, "that will be the end of it."

Eames wandered into the Drama studio, hoping to tidy up. He groaned as he saw the disarray the Eight graders had left the room in.

"Messy kids," he grumbled, beginning to straighten chairs. Suddenly, he noticed something. A pale pink enveloped, lying in the centre of his desk.

Swallowing, he opened it. His eyes widened as he saw what was written.

Mr Eames,

Thank you for helping me. You are such a gentleman! I've always thought you were lovely, and you proved it!

Julia xx

Eames swallowed, suddenly feeling a spasm of worry. A note like this-

"What's that you're holding, Eames?"

The Drama specialist gulped. Robert Fischer was standing in front of him.

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