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I'm a sadistic, grilled cheese murderess. Kraft singles tremble in their cellophane packaging at the mere mention of my name.

So did you get your charm from your mother, or your father?

First of all, just the fact that you reference Kraft singles as cheese shows your ignorance. I don't think Kraft singles even count as food.

And I guess... both.

What else are you supposed to make grilled cheese with? Muenster?

Now, that's not fair. You have to provide detailed examples. I know you know all about my parents. [She's not stupid, she knows he would've done a background check on her, aside from everything she's told him.

But then they're at the Thai place, a dinky little restaurant that's practically deserted at this time of night. Ariadne ducks inside, pulling Arthur along with her.]

Real cheese. You know. Something that doesn't come wrapped in induvidual celophane packets.

[He doesn't mind the empty tables or the bad tablecloths because the place smells good. Arthur sits before answering her question.] My dad's good at the basics. Fast, simple food. My mom--my mom always added the little things that made it taste good.

Hey, some of us have had to live on tight budgets.

So... down-to-earth, practical. And a little fanciful? [She grins at him. It sounds just about right. The smell of the restaurant - heavily spiced - makes her stomach growl loudly. She'll be ordering a great big platter of food.]

[That is true, so Arthur lets it go.]

Something like that. [He smiles, quietly, and orders a wine when the waiter comes around.

Fanciful was actually a good way to describe his mother.]

[Ariadne orders the same, because no one should ever drink alone unless they want to, she supposes.] Tell me more about them. You said your dad was army, right?

[There's a moment, and then Arthur nods.] Is, Army. He's a Colonel. Mom passed away my freshman year of college.

Oh, I'm sorry. [Her brow furrows a little.] I would've liked to meet her. [Another important person in Arthur's life that she'd never get to meet. No wonder the guy kept himself so closed off.] Is your dad back in the States?

Thank you. [It was a long time ago, though.] No. He's on base in Germany.

[And yet she's sure it changed him forever - how could it not?] Do you - [Their waiter finally comes back with the wine, and Ariadne's demeanor changes - she orders cheerily in her accented French, probably enough food to last her three or four days.]

[Arthur's eyebrows raise a little at her order and then only adds his own single request and a thank you. He'll eat some of hers.]

[She raises her eyebrows mockingly in return. She'll eat quite a bit of it on her own, and the rest will go home to be finished off later as leftovers. Ariadne plans ahead.] So, do you see him often? Your dad. I mean, Germany's... [She trails off, waves a hand. Germany is what? She'd been thinking 'not that far', but not that far from where? From Paris. But of course Arthur didn't actually live in Paris, he was just here for... well. Ariadne isn't quite sure why he's here.]

[It's not because he loves the city, though he does. Arthur takes a sip of wine.] Once a year, maybe.

[Maybe not the greatest relationship, then. She's not surprised, though she can't really imagine being that way - she's never gone more than eight months without seeing her parents, and the one time she had gone that long, she'd called them constantly.] Some family members are better in small doses, maybe. I have an aunt like that. Do you think she cares about school, what I'm actually doing with my life? Nope, she just wants to know how close I am to marrying a nice boy and making babies.

[That earns a laugh from Arthur.] Different people, different priorities. [He doesn't, however, agree or disagree, as to whether his father fits in that category.]

Not everyone always gets it. [She tilts her head at him a little.] Did he not like it when you left the CIA?

[How had they gone this long without talking about his family? Without her knowing his mother was dead?

Arthur had become so tight-lipped that he didn't realize anymore when his silence on a subject wasn't normal. Because it was normal for him. He could count on two fingers the number of women who knew even the generalities of his family. Had been three fingers, once. And men, maybe a whole hand. Maybe.]

I don't think 'like' or 'dislike' really factored in. My father was proud that I was working for the American Government. That I'd been sought after. That earned his respect.

When I left... I did eveything in my power to make it look like it wasn't my choice, but. I don't think it mattered to him. It was something we had in common that was lost.

[She's glad that he's willing to share this with her. She knows he doesn't exactly talk about himself much.] So he can't, or doesn't, respect you as much because of it. Why exactly did you leave? [He'd said once, Cobb, but that was a half-answer. Cobb might've helped him make the decision, but if he'd really liked what he did, no one would've been able to pull him away from it.]

I don't think it's intentional on his part, but... no. If only because he doesn't understand anything else. He's been in the Army since leaving high school.

I left because I loved the dream technology. Cobb showed me applications that the CIA would have never allowed.

He doesn't get that what he loves might not be what you love. [She smiles, though.] You know that's one of the things I like best about you. You don't exactly seem like the kind of guy who just enjoys playing around in dreams.

What does your dad think you've been doing all this time?

And yet the technology seduced me out of a good, respectable job. [He gives a quiet, dry laugh.] I like the applications.

He thinks an accident with somnacin left me with a nice government stipend. And that I supplement my income with private consulting jobs. Economics. That was my major at MIT.

Mm, the highly-illegal applications. [She grins, then.]

Ah, right. Consulting. That's, like, the go-to cover story for high-class criminals, isn't it. So you're like a freeloader, running around the world not doing much. Sleeping a lot. [It's a tease, because imagining Arthur being idle for any length of time is like imagining a polar bear in a rainforest.]

I like the applications. You can thank Cobb for twisting them. [And he grins back.]

I could consult. I just don't need the money and don't have the time. Economics still interests me.

I know you could. But... The dreaming is way better. [Idly, she pulls a pencil out of her bag and starts doodling on a paper napkin. Mazes.] Do you have any pictures of them? Your parents.