Pam returned from the bathroom to find Jim still standing in the same position she'd left him: one hand in his pocket, the other one resting against the top of the vending machine as he leaned near the glass trying to make a snack decision.

"You okay?" he asked, his face a clear mask of concern as he turned slightly towards her. "You took off like a shot."

"Yeah, I'm fine, " she smiled lazily as she walked towards him, her hands clasped behind her back. "It's just that your comment on being hungry gave me an idea." She stepped even closer and slipped something small and light into the front pocket of his trousers.

Jim stepped back from the vending machine and gave her puzzled look. "What did you just give me?"

"My underpants."

They'd spent most of the morning locked away in the conference room: Jim, Michael, Pam and their new boss Ryan. Jim had always considered Ryan a bit of a prick, but now that he was in charge of Michael, and by extension - the rest of the Scranton branch, it seemed his true potential as a bastard was shining through. Pam was forced to take page after page of notes on all the little things Ryan wanted to see changed, and Jim thought she looked about as fed up with it all as he felt.

When Ryan left just before one o'clock, Pam gave an audible sign of relief and trudged back to her desk, complaining under her breath. Aware of her stress, Jim immediately felt overwhelmed by the need to do something for her. Something special. Something outrageous, even. He still owed her for her little suprise last week, he remembered, when what started out as a ten minute snack break ended up being a much more satisfying twenty minutes on the roof.

As he sat watching her transcribe the waiting voice mails, an idea hit him, and as crazy as it was he decided to follow it. He brought up a web browser and went to work. When he was happy with the plans he'd made, he plunged ahead before he could change his mind. He sent a few items to the printer, and soon was standing in front of Pam's desk, papers in hand.

“You want to grab a little lunch?” He asked.

“Yeah, sure. Let me just pull these papers together for Michael to sign later.”

“Hey, can you hand me two vacation request forms?”

“Two?” She pulled the forms out of a drawer and put them on the counter.

Jim said nothing, instead he leaned over the desk and grabbed one of her pens. Scribbling quickly, filled them both in and then handed one of them back to her. “I need you to sign this.”

Pam glanced at the paper, then looked back up, confusion clearly written on her face. “What are you up to? I wasn't planning on taking tomorrow or Monday off - I'm not sure I have the days to take.”

“Doesn't matter. I'll find a way to work it out. I need you to come with me tomorrow.”

She looked suspicious. “Where?”

“Sign the form and I'll tell you.”

“What if it's some place I don't want to go?” She smiled slightly. “Then that would be two wasted vacation days.”

“Nice, thanks,” Jim said sarcastically. “Sign the form, Beesly, or I'll just forge your signature.”

“Wow. Lost vacation time and being forced to go against my will?” She picked up her pen and signed her name with a flourish. “I have no idea what I did to deserve you.”

“Thank you,” he replied, taking the form back. “I'll let Michael know we'll be out of the office.”

“But where are we going?” She persisted.

Jim grinned and handed her the rest of his print outs. “Welcome to fabulous Las Vegas.”

Pam glanced out the window again. They were cruising over a bed of fluffy white clouds that went on as far as her eyes could see. She turned to her companion, who was sitting with his legs extended into the aisle and his eyes peacefully closed.

“I can't believe we are on a plane to Las Vegas right now,” she said in an excited half-whisper. “This is crazy.”

Jim's eyes remaining shut. “It's a good kind of crazy though,” he mumbled.

“I can count on one hand the number of times I've been on an airplane,” she mused. “This just doesn't seem real.”

Jim opened his eyes, and reached for her hand. “It's real,” he smiled.

“It's expensive,” she replied, the corners of her mouth turning downward. “I shouldn't have let you do this.”

Jim sat up straighter, moving his legs out of the path of the oncoming drinks cart. “I don't need your permission to do nice things for you,” he said, leaning his head down toward hers.

“This goes a little beyond doing something nice,” she replied softly. Pam looked up to find his face inches from hers. “I wish you'd let me pay for part of this.”

“I didn't say you couldn't,” Jim raised his eyebrows suggestively. “But you should know I deal in a very special currency.”

Pam couldn't help but laugh, but was prevented from responding by the appearance of the flight attendant.

“What can I get you to drink?”

Two cokes and a few pretzel packets later, Pam put her head against Jim's shoulder, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep for a bit. Jim was even more uncomfortable, his long legs simply not designed to survive coach class. Seated in practically the very back of the plane, they had been fortunate enough to have an empty seat in their row. Jim stretched somewhat sideways across two seats, resting back against Pam. She wrapped her arm around his waist and enjoyed the pleasant, if somewhat awkward cuddle.

Jim alternated between half-watching the Sandra Bullock film on the screen, and wishing they were already in Las Vegas. He was doing the latter when Pam's arm tightened around him, and she whispered in his ear.

“Have you ever heard of the Mile High Club?”

He twisted around to look at her. “I have,” he replied slowly.

Pam said nothing, but a mischievous look washed over her face.

“What?” Jim asked, aware his heart had started to beat faster.

“Nothing,” she said innocently. “I just wondered if you'd ever heard of it.”

“It strikes me as a great idea until you get into the logistics of it,” he replied. “I mean, unless you are flying first class.”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you been in a plane's restroom? I don't think it's designed for one person, much less two.”

“Where's your sense of adventure?”

“I know this is going to come as a shock, Pam, but sex in a public toilet doesn't strike me as adventurous. More like cramped and uncomfortable.”

“Party pooper.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I beg to differ. We are on a flight to Las Vegas, aren't we?”

“Hmmph.”

They watched the movie for a little while, then Pam pressed her lips against his shoulder. “You don't have to do it in the lavatory, you know.”

“What?” Jim was convinced he could not have heard her correctly.

“For the Mile High Club.”

He slid his hand over hers. “What are you suggesting?”

“Well we're pretty secluded back here. If we could get a blanket from the stewardess...”

“They don't like to be called stewardesses anymore, Pam. You mean the flight attendant.”

“Right, flight attendant.”

“But go on. What happens after the blanket?”

Pam brushed her hand from his waist down to this thigh. “Oh, I don't know. I'm sure we could think of something.”

Jim was momentarily speechless. “That's....”

“a good idea?” Pam suggested.

Jim laughed. “More like a recipe for public embarrassment.”

“So you don't want to have some fun?”

Jim didn't reply. Instead he watched as a flight attendant walked down the aisle, picking up empty cups and used napkins.

“Excuse me,” Jim said, motioning to her. “Can we get a couple of blankets?”

“Hurry up, Halpert,” Pam splashed at him playfully. “Don't fall behind.”

“Why, are you planning on dragging me under the waterfall and have your way with me? Again.”

Pam threw her head back laughing, the end of her ponytail dipping into the cool water. “Again? You say it like it's a bad thing.” She slowed down the motion of her inner tube by dragging her foot along the edge of the pool, and soon Jim bumped up besides her.

“Was it such a bad thing?” She teased.

“Well,” Jim paused, “only bad in the fact I had no idea you were such a hussy.”

“Liar.”

“Well, such a public hussy.”

“Oh, come on. Nobody noticed.”

“Says you. I can guarantee that the male flight attendant knew exactly what we were doing.”

“How?”

“Oh I don't know. Maybe it was that knowing wink he gave me.”

Pam gasped. “He did not!”

Jim grinned. “Okay, maybe he didn't. But he didn't have to. He did however give me the look that said he knew there was no way a guy my size was going to switch to the window seat without a very, very rewarding reason.”

“Shut up,” she giggled. “Seemed to me like you had a good time.”

As his raft circled lazily, Jim reached out and grabbed one of Pam's ankles as they continued to float down the pool complex's man-made river. “I did,” he finally admitted, “and I got the impression you did too.”

“Well, we didn't technically join the Mile High Club,” Pam mock pouted.

“Close enough for me,” Jim replied. “I can do without a membership card.”

“Membership has its privileges,” Pam retorted.

Jim replied by sitting up and pushing down on her raft down as hard has he could, which upended the other side and toppled Pam into the water, screaming as she went under. He was still laughing even as he felt her pushing up underneath his inner tube, and soon he joined her in the water.

“Not nice,” Pam scolded, pushing the wet hair out of her eyes. “Not nice at all.”

“Yeah, I can see you really hated that,” he replied, pulling her towards him.

“I did!” She protested, though her huge smile certainly weakened her case. “Now I have to try and climb back onto this thing.”

Jim pulled the rafts as well as Pam out of the way to let some other people pass. He kept his arm around her waist long after the water was clear again, aware that despite the cool water she felt invitingly warm. When she turned towards him to grab her raft he couldn't help but kiss her.

“So much for your claims of being such a private person,” she teased when they finally separated.

“I guess you in a swimsuit overrode my good sense.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “I can imagine what happened when you saw those women sunning themselves when we walked in.”

“Which women?”

Pam cupped her hands a good distance in front of her breasts. “Those women.”

Jim chuckled. “I honestly didn't notice them. I must have been too busy looking at you.”

Pam made a noise of disbelief. “Then you were the only one. Trust me, nobody noticed me.”

“That's fine,” he replied. “I don't want anyone else noticing you.” Jim was carefully stroking her back in way that was making both of them wish they weren't in such a public place.

“Come on,” she mumbled, trying to shake the buzzing feeling he was causing. “Help me back up on this floaty thing.”

“We probably shouldn't stay out much longer anyway,” Jim mused as they floated toward the open pool area that marked the start of the river. “You don't need to turn into a lobster on your first afternoon here.”

“Good point,” she nodded. “It's a shame it's such a long walk back to our room, though.”

Jim raised his eyebrows mysteriously. “Maybe we don't have to go right back to our room.” He tilted his head toward one of the rows of cabanas that lined the pool complex. “Maybe we can hang out in one of those first.”

“I think you need to reserve those,” Pam replied. “I'm pretty sure they aren't free.”

“I know,” Jim smiled. “And I already did.”

“Wow. You are full of surprises.”

“You have no idea.”

“I'm starting to, though.” Pam laughed. “So what's the plan?”

Jim shrugged and reached out for her hand as they drifted into the pool area. “We could just relax and have a few drinks while we dry off, then maybe later head upstairs to change for dinner. There's a nice Mediterranean place here I think we should try.”

“How do you know all of this? I thought this trip was a last-minute idea of yours?”

“It was,” he insisted. “It's just that unlike you, I couldn't sleep last night. So I spent a lot of time doing some online research instead.”

She squeezed his hand. “So did this research of yours find out how much privacy you get in a cabana?”

“Enough,” he grinned, sliding off the inner tube. “Let's go check it out.”

“Enough for you or enough for me?” Pam teased.

“After this morning's flight I wasn't aware there was such a thing as not enough privacy for a brazen woman like yourself.”

Pam opened her mouth in shock, but was prevented from responding as he pulled her into a quick kiss as they waded to the steps.

“I didn't say I was complaining.”

Pam stared back at her reflection in the mirror and self-consciously fluffed out the hair near her temples. She knew her simple blue sundress was no match for some of the more rhinestone-studded ensembles she'd seen, but at least she didn't obviously stand out as a small town Pennsylvanian tourist. As usual, Pam felt that she just blended in, barely noticed in the crowd. Well, barely noticed except by one person. Jim had made it perfectly clear how lovely he thought she looked tonight. She smiled slightly at the memory, and made her way back out to the casino floor to find him.

It was crowded and noisy; not surprising for a Friday night on The Strip. After their romantic dinner Pam and Jim had wandered around the shops and eventually ended up at the video poker machines. An hour of play later they were just about breaking even, and Jim decided to take their luck to the blackjack tables. It was there she found him.

She rounded the corner, and stopped. He was sitting at the far table, facing in her direction. He was smiling broadly at the dealer, a relatively young and pretty blonde women. Pam felt a stab of jealousy at the exchange, even as she knew it was ridiculous and completely unjustifiable. She couldn't help it. Sometimes she still had a hard time believing he really had chosen her. Her thoughts tumbled backwards in time: from Karen to Roy to the one night this place really reminded her of. And once again it completely amazed her that she was here with him. That second chances really existed.

He was wearing one of his nicer suits, the dark one he'd worn to Phyllis' wedding months ago. Even though she had seen him in it countless times she thought tonight he looked especially handsome in it. Handsome and charming and maybe even a little bit cosmopolitan, although she smiled at the idea. She was pretty sure he would laugh out loud at the very suggestion. But somehow he looked a little older than his twenty eight years. He definitely looked more important than a paper salesman from a company full of crazy people. But no matter what the impression, or what the truth, she was very proud of him.

She wondered if he had a sixth sense to know when she was watching him, for after he took a sip of the drink the waitress handed him, he looked directly at her. The thrill she felt when she saw his whole face light up in recognition made her want to run right over to him. But instead she continued to stand there, staring back, hoping that he could tell by just looking at her how much she loved him.

They maintained eye contact until he was distracted by something the dealer said to him. He took his eyes off Pam just long enough to nod in agreement and push a few chips forward. He raised his eyebrows at Pam curiously as the cards were dealt, clearly wondering why she hadn't moved. Pam saw him pick up his card, and a memory of him sitting across from her at a different green felt table so many months ago made her heart ache even now. So many things had been so right that night, yet the most important had gone so terribly wrong. She finally headed towards him, her thoughts focused on just how differently this night was going to end.

She put her hand on his shoulder as she stepped up behind him. “Hey,” she said softly.

Jim looked back at her. “You took your time getting over here.”

“Sorry, I couldn't tear myself away from the view.”

Jim grinned as he asked for another card. “Shut up.”

“I'm serious,” she replied, leaning in closer so only he could hear her. “You really look amazing tonight.” Pam reached up and tousled the back of his hair a little. “Very attractive.”

Jim smoothed the hair she had ruffled. “Then don't mess up the look,” he joked.

“Can't help it,” she replied smoothly, her fingers still playing against the back of his neck. “It was begging me to do that.”

The hand ended and Jim tossed his cards on the table. “See what you're doing?” He complained, turning to smirk at her. “I was winning before you started distracting me.”

“Shall I leave you alone then?” She smirked back.

“Don't you dare,” he replied. “Just stay here and be beautiful but silent.”

“That's quite a request.”

“Trust me, I know,” he said, shifting back toward the table. “You keeping silent is probably like asking for the moon.” She scoffed aloud, then dropped her hand from his neck. Jim captured it with his and pressed a kiss onto it.

“I'm just teasing,” he said lightly. “You talk all you want.”

She watched him play a few more hands, as different players joined and left their table. She was rubbing small circles onto his back when she noticed how warm he felt. “You should take off your jacket,” she suggested.

“I don't have anywhere to put it.”

“I can hold it.”

“Are you sure?”

Pam almost laughed at how surprised he sounded. “Yes, I think I can manage to hold your jacket.”

“Well, I know you can - it just seems like a lot to ask.”

“I'm pretty sure it's in my job description,” she replied, her hands already pulling the offending jacket off his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he sighed, clearly feeling more comfortable.

A few plays later, a new dealer stepped in, and Jim looked up at Pam. “Want to move onto something else?”

“I don't mind,” she said, still hugging his jacket close. “If you're having fun, please keep playing. I don't mind watching.”

“Are you sure you don't want to play?”

“No, I'm more into poker than blackjack.”

“I remember,” he said. The look he gave her confirmed her suspicions that she wasn't the only one reliving the past tonight. “You cleaned me out that night.”

She nodded, her eyes dark with emotion. “In more ways than one, as I recall.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if surprised she'd said it. “Yeah,” he finally replied. “Funny how long ago that seems.”

“I wish I could go back and do it differently,” she said softly.

Jim stood up and took his chips off the table. “Don't,” he assured her. “It's all in the past now.” Jim put his hand against the small of her back and started walking them toward the cashier's window.

As they stood in line Pam spoke again. “That doesn't mean I don't imagine how differently that night might have gone.”

Jim licked his lips. “What are you saying?”

“Being here in the casino,” Pam gestured. “It - it reminds me of that night, you know?”

He nodded. “I was under the impression we had already established that was true for both of us.”

“Well, I just wish we could do it all over and get it right this time.”

Jim was directed to the next open cashier and said no more about it until after he'd cashed in and started walking the path back to their hotel room.  As they arrived at the elevators, he pressed the up button and stepped back to look at her. “So how would we get it right this time?” He asked, a combination of amusement and curiosity apparent in his eyes.

A ding was heard and the doors opened to an empty elevator car. Pam slipped her arm through his, pulling him gently in. She pressed the button for their floor and gave him a playful smile.

“When we get to the room just tell me you're in love with me and I'll show you.”

The cacophony of lights and sound filled Jim's senses. He turned to watch Pam's reaction, and as expected her smile was as brilliant as the neon lights flashing overhead. She looked at him and said something, but he couldn't hear her over the music.

“What?” he asked, bending down so her lips might be closer to his ear.

“This is amazing. We've seen both ends of the spectrum in a single day.”

Jim answered with a smile and a nod, and put his arm around her shoulder. She was correct, of course. They had started the day with a morning drive through Red Rock Canyon. It was like nothing either of them had ever seen, and they stopped several times along the way, with Jim taking photos and Pam making sketches she hoped to flesh out when they returned to Scranton. They even managed to catch a glimpse of the famous wild burros, a line of them making their way across a crest in the morning sun. Pam had been so delighted to see them that Jim had no choice but to buy her a plush stuffed burro at the visitors center gift shop on the way out. It was just one more special moment in the whole series they'd experienced in their trip, and Jim burned it in his memory. He knew he had never been happier.

Now they were in the midst of something that was the farthest thing possible from nature. They walked slowly down Fremont Street, one eye on the light show projected overhead and one eye on the growing crowd around them. They discovered it was quite easy to spend half your time running into other people if you weren't careful. The shops along Fremont Street were a steady stream of different souvenir stands, each claiming some outrageously large number of collectibles that a visitor to Las Vegas couldn't possibly live without. Pam pulled Jim into one of these shops, partly out of curiosity, and partly as a way to take a break from the noise.

“Just how many different ceramic things can you buy with the words 'Las Vegas' on them?” Jim asked incredulously.

“It boggles the mind, doesn't it?” Pam laughed.

“You know, we should find the tackiest thing in here and bring it back for Michael.”

Pam grinned. “As long as we bring back an identical one for Dwight.”

“So something along the lines of a black velvet Elvis playing poker with dogs?” Jim speculated, as he walked between the shoulder-high aisles of mugs and ashtrays and snow globes and toothpick holders.

“Yes, preferably silkscreened onto a set of matching salt and pepper shakers,” she shot back, her expression making him smile.

“I love you,” Jim replied without thinking.

Pam smiled back from across a row of tacky photo frames. “I know,” she said. “I love you, too.”

They continued to browse the store, eventually settling on black lucite clocks with dice glued to where the numbers should be. “Oh these are perfect,” Pam marveled. “Practical and hideous.”

“I take it you want one for yourself, then?” Jim teased.

“I think I'll keep looking for my souvenir,” Pam grimaced.

Jim watched as Pam took the job of choosing the ugliest dice colors very seriously. It was just one of the things he loved so much about her. Hell, what didn't he love about her, if he was being honest with himself?

“So what souvenir do you want to bring back for yourself then?” he asked.

Pam shrugged. “I'm not sure. I guess I'll know it when I see it.”

“I noticed the Marriage License Bureau is only the next block over,” Jim said. He was more than a little surprised at how easily that information had slipped out, but not nearly as much as Pam seemed to be.

“W-what?” She comically held two dice clocks in mid-air as she stared at him.

“I'm just saying,” Jim said softly. “I mean, if you are looking for a souvenir.”

Pam slowly set the clocks back down on the shelf, her eyes never once leaving his. “That would be quite the souvenir,” she replied slowly.

Jim could feel his heart pounding. He could see the unspoken question in her eyes. Was he really saying what it sounded like he was saying? This was not how he'd ever pictured this moment, but now that it was here, he wasn't about to back away. Because it didn't matter where they were or how it happened. He just knew he wanted to be with her. Always.

“It's what I'd choose,” he finally said. Her silence started to worry him, until he noticed the shine of tears that appeared in her eyes.

“Then let's do it,” she replied simply. “Let's just do it.”

The click of the seatbelt buckle was followed immediately by Pam's loud, annoyed sigh.

“I can't believe you are making me go back.”

“Don't blame me,” Jim laughed. “I'm not making you go back.”

“Well you made it pretty clear you were getting on this plane with or without me.”

“Pam, all I said is that we have nonrefundable tickets. And given that we've been technically homeless since noon, where did you think we'd stay - in the rental car?”

“Not my problem. You're the one who's been the ideas man all weekend.”

Jim nodded. “True. But what else is there to stay for? I think we've done pretty much everything, haven't we?”

“Almost,” she smiled slyly. “Chocolate?”

He took the small bag she was offering. “I thought you were going to put those in the luggage so we'd actually have some when we got home.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Wow, there's a shock.” He took a piece of dark chocolate from the small box inside and handed the bag back to her.

“Ouch,” Pam pouted slightly. “That's not fair and you know it.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You're right. What I should have said was that I might have expected it from such a high maintenance woman.”

“I am not high maintenance.”

“No, not at all.”

“Jim,” she gave him a look that suggested she was starting to move from teasing to exasperated. “I thought we both agreed.”

It was Jim's turn to sigh. He reached into the bag of chocolates she still held and this time took a milk chocolate and coconut combination. “I know. We did. I understand, I really do,” he replied. “And yes, the options we had after we got the license weren't exactly what I was looking for either.” He paused and glanced over at her. “But I'd be lying if I said I'm still not slightly disappointed we didn't follow through with it.”

“It wasn't because I didn't want to marry you,” she replied. Pam reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly. “I so want to marry you.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“I just want that moment to be better than...better than the choices we had. I've waited too long for you.”

Jim quirked his eyebrow. “You've been waiting?”

“Shut up.”

“I'm just saying.”

“Besides, we still have the license,” she said encouragingly.

“We do,” he agreed. “So it does serve its purpose as a souvenir of sorts.”

“It's more than a souvenir, and you know it, ” she replied gently. “We have a year to use it, if you want.”

“I would think it's pretty apparent that I want.”

The look he gave her caused a warmth to immediately spread through her. “I do too,” she said. She glanced down at their hands interlocked together. “When we were looking at chapels I noticed they do have weddings at Red Rock,” she added quietly.

Jim seemed to consider this. “That would be really nice, actually.”

“And I wouldn't have to settle for silk rented flowers.”

Jim laughed and rewarded her with a warm smile. “No, we can go all out and get you real live flowers.”

“We could have our parents come out,” she continued. “Maybe even some friends.”

“Would we have to invite Michael?” Jim groaned.

“No,” Pam replied. Jim gave her a look of disbelief.

“You know we would,” he said.

“Yeah, okay, so we would.” Pam nodded. “But we'd survive it.”

They sat in silence as the flight attendants walked through the flight safety procedures and prepared the cabin for departure. Jim continued to hold Pam's hand as the plane began its take off, and when they were airborne he lifted it to his lips to kiss.

“Maybe that will work better,” he said. “I mean, it gives us a chance to do some planning. And now we're already more than just engaged.”

“More than engaged?”

“Well, I know you don't have a ring yet, but we do have a marriage license. You never got that far before, did you?”

Pam paused, unwelcome memories of last spring and summer rushing back. Cancelled appointments, unclear coummunication, and Roy dragging his heels meant no one realized until nearly too late that the marriage license had to be processed at least three days before the wedding. Of course Roy had acted like it was all Pam's fault. And like the infamous camel's back, it was then that Pam knew she'd had enough.

“No,” she murmurred, resting her head against his shoulder. “This is my first.”

“Good.” Jim seemed so pleased by this fact that Pam had to laugh, her brief melancholy immediately dispersing. It was a talent he didn't even realize he had, this ability to snap her back to happiness. She opened up the box of chocolates and offered it to Jim.

“Would you like another one?” She asked blithely, biting into a champagne truffle. “Mmmm.”

Jim chuckled. “That good, hmm?”

Pam nodded, her mouth full of the creamy chocolate. “We should have bought more,” she finally said.

“I think a two pound box is a good start,” he replied. “And I'm pretty sure they do mail order if you get that desperate for more.”

“Oh, I will.”

“Get desperate or get more chocolate?”

“Both.”

“Good to know. I'll take it as a warning.”

“You should take it more as the helpful hint it is. Keep me in champagne truffles and I promise you that you'll never regret it.”

“Really?” Jim's amusement was evident. “That's quite the promise.”

Pam stuck her tongue out at him.

“And that,” Jim said, his voicing falling deeper so only she could hear, “is a promise of a entirely different kind.”

Pam raised her eyebrows. “Maybe not so different if you play your cards right.”

"Okay then," he said. "Should I grab the attendant for more blankets now?"

"Depends."

"Depends on what?"

"Depends if I get the window seat this time."