Summary: Comedic One-shot. Just a quick look into the lives of our dearly beloved Inception characters.

Disclaimer: Inception and its characters belong to the talented Mr. Chris Nolan.

Contagious

"Out of our whole team, I least expected you to get sick, Arthur." Ariadne sticks the thermometer into the Pointman's mouth. Arthur is lying on the bed of the hotel room, hair tousled, wrinkles all over his pajamas - in other words, not very Arthur-like.

"I'm only human, Ariadne." Arthur's voice is husky and nasally from his stuffy nose.

"You're always so… clean and neat. I swear I had myself convinced that germs were afraid of coming close to you."

"Apparently, Eames isn't." Arthur grumbles with the stick in his mouth.

"Hey! I heard that." Eames walks into the bedroom with a cup of tea. "You mustn't blame me for your sickness, darling." Ariadne takes the thermometer out of Arthur's mouth.

Arthur simply glares at the Forger. "If I remember correctly, you were the one blowing your nose every five minutes the past week and annoyed Ariadne to be your caretaker."

"They're called allergies, Arthur. Blame it on Yusuf that he brought his feline friend on this trip. That thing left fur all over my suits. Look at this!" Eames points out the stray fur hairs on his jacket sleeves.

"It's a sign to tell you to throw away that horrendous piece of cloth. And don't blame your sickness on the cat. You knew winter in Frankfurt was cold."

"Eames, stop riling him up, he already has a 103 fever." Ariadne says. Eames pouts at the Architect. "I'll be right back with some food."

Arthur and Eames stare at each other in silence for a moment before Arthur speaks. "Did you come to harass me?"

Eames chuckles in reply. "No, poppet. I wanted to make sure you were feeling alright." Eames hands Arthur the teacup he's been holding.

Arthur glares at the pet name but willingly takes the drink from his hands.

...

Ariadne sneezes into a new piece of tissue and offhandedly throws it aside when Arthur and Eames walk into the bedroom with plastic bags. Scrunched balls of white tissue litter the floor.

"Sorry, Ariadne. I shouldn't have let you take care of me."

"No worries. It was bound to happen." Ariadne's face lights up when she notices both men carrying bags. "Did you get everything?" she asks with glee.

"Yes, darling." Eames pulls out each container and places it on the foot of the bed. The chili-cheese fries, coburger bratwurst, crackers, hazelnut chocolate, cheesecake, napoleon cake, cannoli, oatmeal raisin cookies, beer..." Arthur glares at the Forger. "Arthur, don't burst a vein. The beer is for me."

"Ariadne, you really should avoid those foods." The Pointman gives a dirty look at the containers.

"Arthur!" Ariadne cries.

"It's going to make you worse." Arthur says in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Then why did you guys buy it?"

Arthur immediately turns to look at Eames for the answer. Eames rubs the back of his neck and looks sheepishly at Arthur. "She gave me the look before we left."

"Well, the look isn't going to work on me…" Arthur's voice falters when Ariadne gives him the look. Eyes glazed close to tears, nose tinted red, and a small pout of doom Arthur thinks. "Damn it, Ariadne... Sick people are suppose to have little to no appetites… Damn it. Fine. One condition, can you at least eat the things I've bought for you, too?"

Ariadne eyes the bag in his hand. "What is it?"

Arthur opens the bag for her to see. Ariadne sees various raw vegetables and meats. "I'm making you some soup that my grandmother used to make for me when I was sick. Get some rest while I cook." Arthur lovingly strokes a hand down the side of her face before heading out the door.

"That's unfair, Arthur! How come you didn't do this for me when I was sick?" Eames asks as he follows Arthur out the door.

"You don't deserve it."

...

A week later, another person lies on the same bed Ariadne once occupied.

"You guys suck." Cobb shoves his head into the pillow.

Reviews of any sort are much appreciated! Thanks for reading!