I take full responsibility for not uploading in over a year. I hate leaving things unfinished and I can't believe I did that with this story. I will say that I have continued to write anyway, so I think I'm even better now. Please forgive me with this update?

The second dream was incredibly taxing on my physical as well as emotional strength, so I wasn't surprised to find my eyelids closing on me during the ride back to the warehouse. I was already half asleep when myself and the rest of the team parted ways, and it was just minutes after my head hit the pillow when I fell into a dream filled sleep.
It was one of the first real dreams I had had in months. Not surprisingly, Ariadne was involved even though it was just briefly. But it appeared to be so real that I woke up at one point with my totem in hand to make sure it wasn't. Nevertheless, it was a very pleasurable fantasy, and it took me a long time to get back to sleep.
I was nervous about going into work the next day, more so than I had been with the previous dreams. I knew this last one was going to be tricky to say the least. It involved breaking one of Cobb's hard and fast rules in the extraction business. The fact that he was willing to break this rule for the sake of my personal life just showed how lucky I was to know the man. Furthermore, it was without a doubt the breaking out of this entire mission. The last dream may have been the most emotionally upsetting, but this one would be the deciding factor in the outcome.

I arrived at the warehouse before anyone else, even Cobb. It was so early that the sun hadn't even appeared in the sky, so it would be a long wait for anyone else to show up. This was fine with me, since I needed to prepare myself as much as I could.

Since this entire operation was being done without Ariadne's knowledge, we were forced to be discrete in how we hid and worked on the mission. All of my paperwork was hidden in a secret compartment in my file cabinet that even Cobb was unaware of. Seeing that I was the only one, I took this time to familiarize myself with its contents, though if I was honest with myself, I didn't really need to.

I reviewed the layouts and memorized the locations of where other members of the team would be located. There were personalized, handwritten notes from each of the other team members about their personal observations that could be of importance. But none of this made me any less of a nervous wreck.

"You're here early today," a voice broke the silence. I had become so absorbed in my work that I hadn't even noticed Cobb entering the warehouse. Had I been working that long already?

"Yes," I finally replied. "I wanted to make sure I was fully prepared."

Cobb nodded, but did not appear to be fully convinced. "You getting nervous?"

I shook my head slowly. "Not really. It's no different from any other job."

"It is because it involves you personally," Cobb replied with a smile. "Not that I'm worried, because I know how focused you get no matter what. But still, it's not good to psych yourself out too much. It's not good for the brain. Quite exhausting, trust me. Maybe you should stay home."

"You know I can't do that," I protested. "I have too much work to do."

Cobb gave me a pointed stare. "Arthur, you've finished your work already."

I sighed. He knew me too well sometimes. But I suppose that is what comes from being friends for so many years.

"If I know you at all, which I do, you're probably just going to review the information you have again and again until you can recite it from memory forwards and backwards, am I right?" I didn't even give him the pleasure of an answer. He knew it was true without having to ask. Cobb patted me on the shoulder before turned to his own desk, apparently giving up on convincing me go back to my apartment. So I went about my business as usual.

The clock hands slowly ticked by, and it only seemed like minutes instead of hours when everyone else appeared. More ticking of the hands. Miraculously, I had even managed to avoid taking chance glances at Ariadne today as I was so engrossed in my studies. In fact, one might even say that I was, in a way, comatose to my surroundings. It wasn't until I felt a hand on my shoulder did I even look up.

"Arthur," Eames crooned, "even I can tell you are working much too hard." He was smiling, but his voice was lowered, emphasizing the seriousness of his words. "We're going to need you in tip-top shape, you know. Come on, I'll even drive you to your apartment."

"What about my car?"

"I'm sure Cobb can drop it off for you later."

"Eames, this really isn't—" I tried to say, but he of course wasn't putting up with my protests today. So I had no choice but to go along with him.

The drive, of course, was filled with nothing but unbearable silence. At least it was for the first several minutes, until Eames could no longer handle it anymore.

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to loosen up and have a bit of fun when you aren't working," he said at last.

"Your definition of fun and mine have completely different meanings."

He chuckled. "True, but that doesn't mean I'm not right."

"Why did I even let you talk me into leaving early?" I checked my watch and nearly choked at the time. "Eames! It's only half past noon! You can't possibly expect me to—"

"Don't they say absence makes the heart grow fonder?" he asked with a sly smile.

The question was surprising enough for me to pause. I thought hard about what this meant. "... Is this your way of... helping me out, Eames?"

His smile was all the reassurance I needed. "Consider it my little gift to you both."

Before another word could be spoken, Eames pulled up outside my apartment. I was just getting out of the car when I noticed something placed on the doormat. A very suggestively shaped package.

"Eames, what is that."

"What is what?"

"That bottle of wine on my doormat. You know I don't drink."

He just grinned. "Like I said, consider it my gift. And just because you don't drink like me doesn't mean you don't drink. After all, we have very different definitions of the word, don't we?"

His cocky smile was plastered all across his face. I of course, stood there, mouth agape, completely at a loss for words. Using my own words against me was not something I had expected Eames to attempt. With a single wave of his hand, Eames drove away while I was still standing there on the curb.

As I made my way to the apartment, I eyed the bottle. Eames had been right of course that I didn't drink like him, but it was not very often that I took pleasure in consuming alcoholic beverages such as fine wines. After glancing over my shoulder to make sure Eames hadn't stopped up ahead to watch me, I bent and picked up the bottle and walked inside.

I discovered upon unwrapping it that this was not an ordinary bottle of wine. It was very old, very rare, and very expensive. He must have paid top dollar for it. Knowing that this was a very special bottle, I eagerly found a glass and poured a glass for myself. It tasted just as good as it looked, which was exquisite. Eames must have gone to a lot of trouble to get this, and it was no small matter either that he had wasted such a wine on me, a man who hardly ever drinks. So I couldn't help but laugh and say aloud to myself, "Eames, you never cease to amaze me."