Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.

"Is Fischer really going to be facing a disciplinary?" Eames was sitting in Arthur's lounge, sipping a scotch. Arthur and Ariadne were sitting opposite him. "Because if he is...what do you think is going to happen?"

Arthur shrugged. "Hopefully, he'll get a written warning, and possibly told not to come in to a classroom again." He shuddered, and sipped his scotch. "But then, when your father is one of the wealthiest men in the world, you can use anything against people."

Eames sighed. "What an unfortunate upbringing he's had. Getting indoctrinated into the idea that its perfectly acceptable to bully people to within an inch of their lives, and then use money to cover your tracks."

Arthur shrugged. "Maybe, but that's Robert. I just think he needs to go into corporate business, run his father's empire, rather than using teaching as a cover for the fact he has nothing to do but spend his trust fund."

Ariadne looked into her glass. "He's probably lonely."

"And, he's unpleasant." Eames said. "No redeeming features, I'm afraid."

Ariadne bit her lip. "Well, if people were-"

"Don't even go there," Eames said, shaking his head. "Trust me, we have tried plenty of times to get Robert to socialise, to pull his head out of his arse. And we've frequently failed."

"He just-" Arthur stopped. "He just makes it very clear he doesn't want anyone's company. Its like that, Ari, it really is."

"Oh," Ariadne said, nodding. "I see." She took another sip of water. "Well, I guess there's nothing more to do." She rubbed her forehead. "But, if he does get a disciplinary - do you think he'll be nicer?"

Eames and Arthur looked at one another. "No," they said in unison. Eames looked at her. "I don't think he's capable of being nice."

She got up. "Well, we'll see."

"You going home?" Arthur asked, his face falling slightly.

"Well, I-"

"Oh, look at the time!" Eames burst out. "I do have things I should be doing." He got up. "Well, good night, you two!"

"Eames, I-" before Arthur could speak, the Drama specialist had disappeared out of the room, and they heard the front door close. Biting his lip, Arthur turned to Ariadne.

"Listen, its getting pretty late," he said, softly. "And, I, uh-"

She smiled. "I can get a cab."

"No!" Arthur looked shocked. "No, I mean - I have a spare room. If that's ok."

Ariadne smiled, and let him take her hand. "Or..." he said, hesitantly, "we..."

Leaning over, she kissed him.

Robert stood in his garage, looking at his Porsche. A scowl was twisting his features, and he glared at the marks made.

"My car," he muttered, furiously. "My car, and its destroyed by-"

Suddenly, a smile began to light his face. Pulling his cellphone out of his pocket, he returned to his expensive apartment.

Arthur entered his classroom the next day, and began to arrange his papers. Suddenly, after the bell rang, a group of students appeared. Arthur looked up. "Morning," he said, pleasantly.

"Mr Ogilvie!" exclaimed one of the boys. "Good to see you!"

"Thank you," Arthur said, raising an eyebrow. "Whether you'll be saying that when I hand back the marks on your latest test, is another matter! Everyone, take a seat."

The students settled quickly, and Arthur began distributing test papers. "Right, please take a look at these marks, and my comments. Remember, I'm trying to be constructive, and help you all achieve the grades you deserve."

Joel raised his hand. "Mr Ogilvie?"

"Yes?" Arthur asked, turning.

"What's that - running out of the music cupboard?"

Arthur turned, and his eyes widened. "What the...?" A pool of liquid was forming on the floor, next to the cupboard door. Biting his lip, he walked over to it to investigate.

Ariadne hummed to herself as she prepared her classroom. As she finished arranging the fruit in the centre for the still life, she heard the door creak. As she looked up, she shook her head. "What do you want, Robert?"

"Just wondering...have you seen Arthur today?"

She shook her head. "No, I haven't." She looked at the floor, hoping Fischer wouldn't see her blush slightly. He raised an eyebrow, framing his icy countenance.

"Really? Well, clearly I was misinformed." He turned. "Although...when you do see him, Ms Henderson, do mention that I'm looking for him."

She nodded, coldly. "Of course, Mr Fischer."

Smirking, he turned and left. Ariadne pursed her lips, and kept her temper.

"I don't believe this!" Arthur gasped, his jaw sagging. "The guitairs...all the equipment!"

The Twelth graders were standing around the entrance to the cupboard, shocked and horrified. All the instruments were covered in splashes and smears of red paint, with an empty can standing inside the door.

"Look, this is ridiculous!" Arthur looked up, hearing Cobb's voice. The students quickly headed back to their desks. "You have no right to do this, no right at all!"

"Mr Cobb, we're simply acting on what we were told. That's all." Suddenly, two police officers entered the room. "Mr Arthur Ogilvie?"

"Yes?" Arthur blinked.

"Mr Ogilvie, we're investigating a complaint of vandalism made by Mr Robert Fischer regarding paint damage to his car. He claims it was red paint. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

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