Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. Its been a while since I updated a fic twice in two days - but this one just won't seem to leave me alone! Hope you like it.

Ariadne got out of bed to the shrill bleep of her alarm. She swallowed, and began to pad into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, she shuddered.

Her skin was pale, and eyes slightly bloodshot. She looked at her tousled hair, and turning, reached for the shower. As the water began to gush down, she began to carefully take off her pyjamas, that she'd wrapped herself in after returning from Arthur's apartment.

She looked down at her body, and suddenly thought of how Arthur would see it. Fat. The word was still ringing in her ears, complete with the clipped way he'd pronounced the t. She leaned against the side of the bathroom wall - when he looked at her, did he see her body as it was, or did he imagine it swathed in-

She stopped, and shook her head. She climbed for the shower, and let the hot water cascade down her back, flushing her skin pink. As she turned the water off, she reached for her towel. Carefully, she wrapped it round her body while she walked into the bedroom.

As she began to towel off, she noticed her cell phone was flashing. Picking it up, she realised a voicemail had been left. She frowned, and decided to ignore it.

Opening her closet, she began to flick through her clothes. Everything looked too small. She bit her lip as she pulled out a pair of jeans. When she'd worn them previously, she'd noticed how Arthur had given her an appraising look.

She swallowed. What if he was looking to see how fat I was?

She tossed the jeans back in the closet. She had to find something loose. She reached for a baggy shirt, and a pair of loose fitting cotton pants. After thirty minutes, she finally felt ready to go out.


The Point Man looked up. Eames was looking at him. "What?"

"I said, would you please pass me the file that you've been sitting on for at least ten minutes," he responded, patiently. "I have asked."

"Oh, sure." Arthur practically tossed him the sheaf of papers, and sank back into his chair. The Forger frowned. "Ou with it."


"Out with it. You've been sitting there, staring into space, for at least the last ten minutes. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Arthur tilted his head, and focused on his laptop. Suddenly, the door opened and Ariadne walked in. Eames' eyes widened. "Ariadne...are you allright?"

She nodded. "Fine," she said, almost listlessly. The Forger frowned as she walked across to her desk, her clothes almost swamping her. Arthur's eyes widened.

"Ariadne-" he got up, and walked over to her. "Ari, can we talk? Please?"

She shook her head. "I've got a lot to do today, Arthur."

He swallowed. "Ariadne, about last night, I-"

"I think you've said enough."

"It was late, I was over tired, I think we both were-"

"No, Arthur." She pushed her chair. "I need to get some errands done."

"Ari?" his face creased. "Why are you wearing that? Its too big for you?!"

She turned, and looked at him.

"I don't fill this Arthur. Unlike everything else."

He looked shocked. "Ari-"

"No, Arthur. Excuse me."

Feeling a rush of self-hatred, Arthur turned and watched the Architect walk away from him.

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