Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me.

"I'm sorry?" Robert repeated. His ice blue eyes bored into Arthur's. "Would you care to repeat that?"

"You're not going anywhere," Arthur said, firmly. "Not until you tell me why you feel the need to go in such a hurry."

"I told you." Robert's expression was settling into one of exasperation and annoyance. "There is no need for me to be here. The school is a wreck, its nearly the end of the semester, so I thought-"

"You'd just abandon your responsibilities," Arthur said, coldly. "Typical. Why did I expect anything else?"

"Oh, so this is just to give me a lecture about how I should be more noble and self-sacrificing?" Robert arched an eyebrow. "No thanks, Arthur. I hear enough from you at work. Remember the students, put them first..." He shook his head. "Sorry, but it doesn't work here."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Robert. If you despise your job, and everyone involved in it, why do you do it?"

Robert shrugged. "Passes the time." He pulled his passport out of his jacket pocket. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a plane to catch-"

Arthur lost his patience. Moving forward, he grabbed Robert's shoulders. "I told you. You're not going anywhere!"

Robert's face flamed with anger. "Don't get physical with me, Arthur! Don't forget what happened the last time! Do you want to be permanently out of a job?!"

Stunned, Arthur took a step back. Robert smiled, smugly.

"Yes, you really need to calm that temper of yours. Now, I don't know why you think you need to come round here and behave like this, but I am going away. Don't worry, I'll send you a postcard."

Arthur watched as the older man picked up his luggage. He glanced at Arthur. "See yourself out." Without hesitating, Robert began to move towards the door, acting as though the other man had already left.

"Hey, Robert," Arthur called after him. "If the fire is nothing to do with you, why are you leaving?"

Robert stopped dead in his tracks. Arthur folded his arms, and waited a response.

"Its nothing to do with me," the other man practically spat out. "Nothing! Why would I burn down a school? I could buy the damn place!"

Arthur stared at Robert's leather clad back. Suddenly, several thoughts began to lock into place.

"Yes, Robert," he said softly. "You could." Suddenly, his mind began to race, and he knew where he needed to go. "You go on vacation. Have a nice trip!"

Before Robert could protest, Arthur had pushed past him and raced towards the door.

"Found anything?"

The forensic analyst pushed her glasses back onto her head, and frowned at Blake. He was hovering at the scene, unsure of what he could look for, but unwilling to interfere.

"No," she replied, slightly tersely. Standing up, she faced the detective. "The site is a mess. The fire started in the basement, hence causing the collapse of-"

"Whoa, wait," Blake said, feeling rattled. "In the basement?"

She nodded. "Look over there." Blake followed the direction of her pointing finger. "That's approximately where the fire started. Have a look. See if you can find anything...interesting."

Blake hunched his shoulders, and hurried to the pile of debris. He knelt down, casting his eye over what appeared to be an unassuming pile of rubble. Suddenly, he blinked.

Lying in amongst the ash and wreckage was a wallet. Swallowing, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, and carefully wrapped it round his hand. Leaning over, he picked the wallet up, and stood up, then walked over to the forensic officer.

"Got a plastic bag?"

"Uh-huh." Reaching into her unzipped case, she pulled out a plastic sheet. "What did you find?"

"A wallet." Blake bagged his prize. "Here."

"Thanks." She put into the stash of evidence. "We'll get it analysed, and a report back to you."

"Eames?"

The Drama specialist blinked. He'd been dozing off, an effect of the pain killers. Opening his eyes, he saw Arthur. "Well, hello. Where are my grapes? Or bananas? Or any of the other nice things you do for people who are ill?"

Arthur shook his head. "Eames. Good to see you're awake. Now, listen to me."

"Must I? We're not at work."

Arthur smiled. The jibes from the other man were a clear sign that he was over his shock, and starting to recover. "No, listen to me. I went to see Robert."

"Nice." Suddenly, Eames blinked. "Robert? Why?"

"Because..." Arthur paused. "I'm sure he had something to do with the fire. And I think I know why."

"So do I." Eames sat up properly, wincing at the pain in his broken leg. "He doesn't like working for a living. Neither do I, but I wouldn't go to such extreme lengths."

"He doesn't have to work for a living." Arthur looked at Eames. "He's the heir to a billionaire fortune. He could spend his life partying and dating supermodels."

Eames snorted. "I'd hope the likes of Kate Moss would have better taste." He narrowed his eyes. "What's your point?"

"What if Robert wanted to discredit me, Cobb, the school, to get some community backing? What if he used Ariadne to get at me, then proceeded to make out he was being victimised, so the district would think he was being bullied?"

"I'd think it was pretty funny. He's the biggest bully I've ever encountered."

"And then...the school burns down." Arthur looked at him. "And who owns most of the free land in this town?"

Eames blinked. "Fischer-Morrow."

"Yes!" Arthur leaned forward. "And if the new school was built with money from them, who would be trying to make himself Principal, based on the fact that he paid for it, and that Cobb and I are a disgrace to the profession?"

Eames blinked. "Oh my God," he said, softly. "You may be right."

"Detective?"

Blake looked up from his crime report. "Yes?"

"Your wallet. Or, the one just back from forensics."

"Arthur, this is just insane," Ariadne told him. They were sitting in his apartment. She looked at him, uneasily. "How can you be sure that's what Fischer's thinking? He hates teaching!"

"He loves being in charge though," Arthur countered. "And he's been pushed out of Fischer Morrow, thanks to his father's business partner." He took a sip of wine. "Still, we can-"

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "One moment," he said, smiling. Putting the wine glass down, he went to the door.

Blake stood on the other side. Arthur's eyes widened. "Detective. What can I do for you?"

Blake looked at him, biting his lip. "Mr Ogilvie, I'm really sorry to come so late, but there's something you should know."

"What is it?" Arthur asked, puzzled.

The young detective looked nervous. "Sir, we found a wallet this afternoon, at the school. It would have been in the basement, where the fire started."

"Yes?" A prickle of nervousness was beginning to work its way down Arthur's spine.

"Well," Blake bit his lip. "It looks like its Dom Cobb's."

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