Disclaimer: Inception does not belong to me. All readers and reviews appreciated, thank you!

Arthur shifted, and turning over, found himself curling up next to Ariadne. He moved his arm, letting it rest over her, and pulled her closer. She stirred, murmuring in her sleep.

The Point Man turned over again. Swallowing, he reached for the loaded die balanced on the bedside table, and carefully flicked it.

It rolled once. Stopped. Exhaling, he laid down again, letting Ariadne move to allow her head to rest on his chest.

"You ok?" She murmured. He entwined his fingers in her hair.

"I'm just..." he let his voice trail off. "I can't believe this is real. You. Me. Here."

She swallowed, trying to ignore the tiny knot of guilt that was festering in her stomach. "It is. Trust me."

He closed his eyes, a contented smile flickering on his face. The Architect kissed his cheek, and nestled in closer. She closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep. Arthur pulled he covers over them both, his mind wandering through an uncharted landscape. His eyes began to close.

"Arthur?"

He turned. Ariadne was standing next to him, smiling. She put her hand on his arm.

"Hey," he breathed, turning to hold her. She pulled back, frowning. "What are you doing?"

"I thought-" he blushed.

"No, sorry, you thought wrong," she laughed. She turned. "Eames!"

Arthur looked, his face dropping, as Ariadne smiled at the Forger. "This is-" he whispered.

"Its reality," Eames said, smugly. As he kissed the Architect, Arthur screamed.

Dom sat bolt upright, his heart pounding and his breathing ragged. He swallowed, then pulled himself out of bed, and trudged into the kitchen.

Turning on a faucet, he poured himself a glass of water. Sitting at the kitchen table, he took a sip, his breathing starting to steady.

He rubbed his face. A montage of images was spreading across his mind's eye – the park, the hotel, the high school. The family home, the grocery store. The family. The High schoolers.

The projections of themselves.

Picking up his cellphone, he dialled.

"H'lo?" Eames voice was slightly thick; with a pang of guilt, Cobb realised he must have woken him. "Whatsit?"

"Its me, Cobb," the Extractor said, trying to keep his voice steady. "Are you-?"

"In bed." The Forger yawned. "Alone."

Cobb smiled wryly. "Wouldn't think anything else."

"You ok?"

"No," Cobb admitted. "Not really."

"Do you want to come over?"

"Yes." Cobb checked his watch – 3.30am. "Be there in ten."

Tears beginning to leak from his eyes, Arthur began to wake. Lying on his back, he felt a slight weight on his chest. Ariadne. He reached out, to stroke her hair, and then drew his hand back.

Arthur gently disentangled Ariadne's arm from his torso, and got up. Walking into the lounge, he sat down, gazing out the windows at the glittering city below.

Two months. Two months of a new relationship. He still felt awkward, and unsure – and there were times when he wasn't sure that it was working – but he felt happy. Ariadne didn't seem to find him boring, or uptight – she found him sweet, amusing.

One thing was bothering him. How they'd got together.

Arthur couldn't recall Ariadne telling him she wanted him at any point. All he remembered was being on the plane, coming back from Tokyo, then turning to look at her, and realising that that was it. Her. She was all that mattered.

And the night in the apartment. He blushed slightly at the memory. He'd taken the Frascati out of the fridge, and got the glasses. He'd hurried into the bedroom, to find her lying on the bed, fully dressed. She'd teasingly asked him to help undress her. He couldn't believe how his hands had shaken when tugging gently at her neck scarf.

She'd kissed him, he'd reciprocated. Then a rush of longing had appeared, and they'd been entangled in the sheets. She'd stroked his sides, whispered to him. He'd explored her body, running his hands down it, kissing her neck.

She'd used her hands to explore him. And for a reason he couldn't identify, it made him feel nervous. She'd stroked his sides, tickled his stomach. He'd felt wanted, desired – yet oddly detached, as though preparing himself for rejection.

He got up, his hand worrying at the totem in the pocket of his bathrobe. Lately, he'd been worrying at it more than usual. It was almost as though he needed to remind himself he was in reality.

The phone shrilled. Not wanting to disturb Ariadne, he picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

Eames was sitting in a chair, smoking, when the knock on the door came. He stubbed his cigarette out in an empty glass, and got up. "Hang on."

He opened the door, casting an eye over the Extractor. "You look-"

"I know, save it," Cobb said, more curtly than he'd intended. He walked in, nodding when Eames raised the whisky bottle. "Yes please."

"Can't sleep?" Eames asked, giving him a sharp glance.

"Yep." Cobb sank into an over stuffed chair, letting Eames' cat roam around his legs, before deciding to hop up o his lap. "No sleep, no rest. And when I do, I –"

"Dream," Eames interrupted. "Yes."

"Why is this affecting me so badly?" Cobb took a sip of the amber liquid, not wanting to meet the Forger's grey eyes. "Why can't I deal with this?"

"Because Arthur's your best friend," Eames said, sinking back into his seat. "Because we have to see him evey day. Him and Ariadne."

"Because I feel guilty," Cobb slammed the glass back on the table. "Because I feel that we've taken a leap we should never have done."

"What should we have done?" Eames asked, reasonably. "If we'd taken him back to that clinic, they'd have ripped him apart."

"But by performing inception, we've started it anyway." Cobb looked at the floor. "He dreams. He'll remember. He said something to me the other day."

"What?" Eames leaned forward, his pulse quickening.

"He said, 'I have no idea how Ariadne and I got together. I didn't think she was interested."

"So he's starting to-"

"He's starting to subconsciously trace the genesis of whats happened to him," Cobb finished. "Its been two months, and its begun already."

"Maybe he just can't believe his luck?" Eames said, carefully.

"No, this is Arthur. We've broken into his mind, and what we've incepted is being questioned already."

"So whats the solution?" Eames shook his head. "Extraction?"

"No." Cobb took another swallow of whisky. "We have to wait. Wait and see what happens. But in my dreams, I can still see his projections. I wonder what he sees in his."