Rating PG-13 for minor language and Eames

Disclaimer: I do not own Inception or its characters, not that these characters resemble those in the movie.

Summary: Based on a prompt found over on LJ: The Language of Flowers

Author's Greeting: I created a banner for this fic. It isn't anything fancy, but it was my first foray into creating a graphic and I'm quite fond of it. Check it out in my profile page, where I've also included links to my flower references and some other info regarding this fic.

Chapter 1: Amaryllis

Amaryllis Belladonna

"No, no, no, no." Yusuf pipettes some liquid from one small vial into another. "Absolutely not. That's a horrible combination. Trust me."

"What do you mean a horrible combination? It's been around forever and it works. Do you think it'd still be an option if it didn't?" Eames stands over the chemist, tapping a pamphlet in hand for emphasis.

"I don't care about that. When you break it down to its component parts, it…it…"

Ariadne, having preferred to keep out of Yusuf and Eames' current disagreement, finally looks up from her designs to see Yusuf struggle explaining his opposition.

"It what?" Eames asks, exasperated.

"It just weirds me out, okay? Besides, we don't even know what Ariadne thinks about it."

Ariadne smiles at Yusuf. "Thanks for your concern for my preferences, Yusuf, but it is a Canadian invention and I have to argue that we have very discerning tastes."

"There you go! The Canadians invented it! No other argument is necessary. Have I told you all how much I love Canadians?" Eames walks over to Ariadne and hugs her to his side. "They produce pretty, talented architects and delicious pizzas."

"Well, I'd never want to offend you, Ariadne," Yusuf says pointedly while ignoring Eames' own offended, Hey, what about me. "As for my own preferences, I have to admit that there's something about fruit and meat together that just does not appeal to me." Yusuf proceeds to remove his protective goggles and gloves. "But for you, I'll suffer it."

"It's a freaking pizza, Yusuf. It's hardly a torture," Eames scoffs.

Ariadne laughs. "Why don't we order a Hawaiian pizza for Eames and anyone else who might want to partake, and you can get whatever else you want, Yusuf. As for me, I'm so hungry I can eat anything put on top of a pizza." As if to emphasize her point, her stomach growls.

"What about Cobb? What are his pizza preferences?"

Ariadne gets up from her stool and stretches. "I don't think he'll care. But since you mention him, we should probably order a plain cheese pizza for the children."

"Are Philippa and James joining us?" Yusuf asks, browsing through the pizza take-out menu that he took from Eames.

"Yes, and he told me to remind you two to be on your best behavior."

Eames, satisfied with getting his way, has taken a seat in his desk chair and is leaning back in it while propping his feet on his desk. He looks over at Ariadne with a wry smile.

"But I'm always on my best behavior. It's not my fault we have different definitions of good behavior."

Ariadne and Yusuf both roll their eyes.

"But with Arthur detained in Tokyo, my playful nature, as I like to refer to it, lacks its inspiration." His eyes dart between the two other team members in the room, a mischievous glint shining in his eye. "I need a new target. The only question is which of the two of you to direct my efforts."

"Ariadne can have the honor." Yusuf quickly holds his hands out in front of him in surrender. "I don't want anything to do with your playful nature or good behavior, whatever your definition. I'm going to go place the order." He leaves the workshop's main space and heads to the kitchen.

"Ariadne it is, then." Eames' mouth contorts into a Cheshire grin.

Ariadne sighs and shakes her head. She's too tired and hungry to put up any argument, not that Eames would take any of her arguments into consideration.

"Are you not going to put up any kind of protest?" Eames asks from his relaxed position, immediately noticing her silence.

"Would it make any difference?" she counters, cleaning up her drafting table.

"I suppose not." He removes himself from his chair and walks over to sit on her table. "I guess I'm just not used to such lack of resistance. I was expecting some snarky comment thrown back at me." The forger frowns. "I miss Arthur."

"Get your ass off my desk, Mr. Eames." Ariadne snaps a ruler on his behind. "There, how's that? Make you feel any better?"

"I didn't realize you had a bit of a kinky, naughty side, Ariadne." Eames gives her a nasty smile. "I like it."

"What are you talking about? I was just—"

"Disciplining me?"

"No! No. No. No. Definitely not. No." Ariadne shakes her head with each 'no'.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Eames teases with a laugh.

"And I think you're out of your mind." She turns her back on him and continues to pack up her things.

His breath at her ear startles her. "I think I'm going to enjoy focusing my attentions on you, Ariadne." Eames is behind her back, leaning over her. "And don't worry, you won't be disappointed in my efforts." He steps away and when she turns to give him a scowl, he gives her a flirty wink before strolling into the kitchen to join Yusuf.

Ariadne shakes off Eames' actions and returns to tidying up her drafting table. If leaving her unsettled is supposed to be the result of his focused attentions, then Eames is already doing an excellent job. But that's not surprising. Despite his joking and teasing veneer, Eames is cool-headed, quick, and calculating. She's often thought that he wants others to underestimate him, when in fact doing so would be foolish.

Her instincts tell her not to underestimate his current promise of directing his playful nature towards her. He was just quoting Shakespeare a moment ago.

But before she has time to think more about it, the door opens and the parade that is Cobb and his kids interrupts the relative quiet of their workspace. They enter one by one with James leading the way, one hand swiping away the floppy blond hair from his eyes, his other hand clutching a piece of paper. Cobb follows behind him, his arms burdened with two small backpacks, a couple of coats, a bag full of toys, his travel coffee mug, and a set of keys dangling from one hand. And finally, bringing up the rear is Philippa, head bowed down, feet dragging. She's wearing a jumper as blue as her expression.

"Arie-ahh-need—Arie-add-neem…Ari! Look what I drawed in school!" James pulls her attention away from Philippa with the butchering of her name. The little boy runs over to her and eagerly points to his artwork. "See, I drawed a tall building, like you and daddy."

James proudly shows her his purple building, a lumbering rectangular creation dotted with square windows and crude semi-circular faces peeking out of them.

"Wow, James, this is very good. Look at all these windows. And all the people."

James points to the circular faces. "This one is Daddy. And that one is Pippa."

When Ariadne looks up from the drawing to eye Philippa, she sees her with Cobb sitting on the couch. She still has a sad frown on her face and Cobb is talking softly to her.

"And this is the slide." James' enthusiasm brings her attention back to his drawing. His little finger points to a red curve jutting out from one side of his building.

"What's the slide for?" she asks.

"It's for sliding," James answers matter-of-factly. "You can slide out of the building. See, that's me and that's you. That would be fun, huh?"

Ariadne smiles at her brown-haired, red-scarfed, smiling face depiction. "It would be fun," she agrees.

"Please, daddy?"

Philippa's plea distracts her from James' drawing. This time when she looks over at father and daughter, Cobb gives Ariadne a desperate look.

"What's the matter, Dom? Is everything okay?"

"Philippa's sad because someone said she's 'ugly'," James volunteers.

"What! Who would say something like that?" Ariadne asks as Philippa buries her face into the sofa.

"One of the boys in her class," Cobb sighs. "Look, Ariadne, I think I better take the kids home. We'll go over the building designs tomorrow."

"Ariadne, can you teach me how to put on make-up, please?" The desperate note in Philippa's plea causes Ariadne's heart to contract, an effect she can see mirrored in Cobb's face, even as he admonishes his daughter's request.

"Philippa, sweetheart, what did I tell you? You're too young for make-up. And besides, you don't need it. You're very pretty." He tenderly smoothes his daughter's hair before placing a kiss on top of her head.

Instead of being mollified by her father's words and actions, Philippa cringes and mournfully cries, "You're just saying that because you're my daddy!" before she buries her head against the sofa cushions once again.

"Philippa, don't let what someone else said make you think that you're something you're not. What your dad said is true." Ariadne makes her way over and sits on the other side of the little girl, bringing her face up to look the girl in the eyes. "You are pretty. You don't need make-up to convince anyone you are. True beauties don't need it and you are a true beauty."

With a sniffle, Philippa raises her head. "I am?"

"Uh-huh. And you know how I know that? Because being beautiful is more than just what you look like on the outside. It's about who you are inside, as well. A person's character is an important part of one's image."

"Ariadne's right." Cobb gives her a grateful smile. "Someone can look pretty on the outside, but if she's mean-spirited it makes her unattractive. And you're a good person. A good sister and the best daughter." Cobb hugs Philippa to his side while she wipes at her face.

"Well, what's going on in here?" Eames and Yusuf enter the room and take in the scene on the couch. "Is something wrong? Were you crying, Pippa?"

"Yeah, why the long face?" Yusuf asks.

"You think I have a long face!" the girl cries before re-burying her face into the sofa cushions.

Confused and scared by Philippa's reaction, a hapless Yusuf looks to Cobb for assistance.

"That's just an expression, Philippa." Cobb rubs the girl's back. "He's just asking why you look sad. Mr. Yusuf doesn't think you actually have a long face."

"No, of course not! I think you have a very normal-shaped face. Very, uh, proportionate."

On a sniffle, Philippa raises her head and sheepishly asks, "So you don't think I'm ugly?"

"No—"

"What?" Eames interrupts, making his way over to the couch. He practically sits on top of Ariadne as he takes a seat next to the little girl. "Pippa, did someone say you were ugly?"

"Yeah, Remy. He's a boy in my class."

"Well, Remy sounds like a stupid twa—"

"Eames!" Cobb gives the forger a stern look.

"Stupid twit," he amends. "He sounds like a stupid jerk. Would you like me to…teach him a lesson? Make him regret he ever said you were ugly? With Mr. Yusuf's help I'm sure we can come up with something. Perhaps he can conjure up a spell to turn him into a toad."

"Eames," Cobb warns.

"I don't know anything about turning anyone into a toad, but I can definitely whip up something that will give him a green tinge" Yusuf volunteers.

"Yeah, let's do that!" Philippa brightens with excitement.

"No, no one is going to make anyone green," Cobb puts a damper on the plotting. "Mr. Eames and Mr. Yusuf," Cobb gives each man a stern look, "are not going to do anything to that boy."

"But, daddy!"

"Remember what we talked about? About a person's character reflecting her beauty. Think about how doing something bad to another person would reflect on you."

"Technically, Yusuf and I would be the ones—"

Cobb silences Eames with another look.

"Your dad's right," Ariadne finally adds. "Revenge isn't the answer here, at least not the kind that Mr. Eames is talking about. The best thing you can do is not let what Remy said get to you. And the way you do that is by being confident and loving who you are. And you know what? Who you are just so happens to be a very sweet and very pretty girl."

"See, I'm not the only one who thinks you're pretty," Cobb hugs the girl to his side.

"Yes, definitely. Very pretty, like uh, a flower!" Yusuf supplies, awkwardly.

"Pippa, I drawed you in my picture. See, you look pretty." James and picture join the group on the couch.

Ariadne smiles at all the effort everyone is making to help boost Philippa's confidence. It continues on this way even after the pizza arrives, with Eames and Yusuf leading the charge, and only stops when Cobb and the children finally head home.

Nothing more is made of the incident until a couple of days later when Cobb brings the children back to the workshop. Unlike the last time, when Ariadne looks up from her drafting table to watch the parade of Cobbs enter, Philippa is leading the pack with a bright smile. She makes her way over to her table, a long rectangular box in her arms.

"Ari! Ari, look what I got!"

Ariadne can't help a smile herself after witnessing the childish exuberance on Philippa's face.

"What is it?"

Ariadne takes a peek inside the box Philippa holds out for her inspection. Inside, lying on layered white and light green tissue paper is a lovely bouquet of stunning pink flowers.

"Oh, these are beautiful."

Curious, both Eames and Yusuf leave their workstations to crowd around Ariadne's table.

"And look what else I got." She shows them all a small book. "It's called, The Language of Flowers, and inside there's a picture of the flowers. These are called, amaryllis."

Ariadne flips through the book until she comes to the page with the amaryllis. "It says here that the symbolic meaning of these flowers is splendid beauty."

Ariadne looks up from the book to catch Cobb's eye and gives him a smile. "I'm sure whoever sent these to you means to tell you that you're a splendid beauty."

"But I don't know who it was. Daddy said he found this box at the house and all that was in it are the flowers and this book."

"I guess that means you have a secret admirer," Ariadne responds with a sly wink at Cobb.

"What's a secret admirer?" Philippa asks.

"A secret admirer," Yusuf steps in, "is someone who admires and likes you, and is either too shy to tell you, or doesn't want you to know who he—or she—is because they want to keep it secret."

"But why do they want to keep it a secret? I want to know who it is."

Eames laughs at Philippa's pout. "Well, sometimes it's more fun not knowing, like with a surprise. It builds anticipation before you discover who it is."

Philippa doesn't look impressed.

"Okay, why don't you look at it this way?" Ariadne lifts the bouquet out of the box and hands them to the girl. "These flowers are a sign that someone understands just how beautiful you are. That's all you really need to know. It doesn't matter who sent them."

"A secret person thinks I'm beautiful." Philippa smiles and takes a whiff of the flowers. "They smell like bubble-gum," she giggles.

"Come on, let's go find a vase to put these in." Cobb leads his daughter to the kitchen.

"Well, that was a nice gesture," Ariadne smiles as father and daughter leave the room.

"Certainly. Very nice." Eames nods at Ariadne.

"Yeah, someone was being very thoughtful. Pretty flowers for a pretty girl," Yusuf comments.

The three look at each other and all give approving nods and smiles.