She wakes up to warm arms around her waist and his breath hot against her neck. She grins and runs the back of her hand against his arm, then lightly caresses his hand, finally entwining it with hers. She feels him hold her more tightly and she responds in kind, maneuvering her body so he's really spooning her, and she thinks she hears him sigh into her hair. She wonders if he's awake, but as soon as she decides she'd prefer him not to be, she feels his lips moving lazily across her neck and shoulders. She has to bite her lip to keep from moaning, her eyes held tightly closed so she can tell herself later that this never happened, at least not consciously. There's a knot in her stomach and something in her brain, too, telling her that this is a bad idea, that now it'll be too hard to keep up the charade. And the charade is all they know how to do.

Their dazed morning caresses are kept silent, both maybe pretending to be asleep. She thinks it's early, and she kind of hopes that maybe they'll fall asleep again and wake up on opposite sides of the bed and it'll almost be like this never happened. She almost gets her wish when their movements stop for awhile, and though she doubts he's asleep, she's able to slip out of his arms and into the shower. If he is awake, he doesn't stop her.

The water pressure from the hotel showerhead is dissatisfying, and she turns the heat up high enough to burn to compensate. She wants to escape, or at least to feel momentarily liberated from this awkward, tense, lust-driven trap she finds herself in. The water isn't really helping-- in fact, it kind of hurts-- but she doesn't turn it down. Steam fills the room and she tries to clear her mind, or at least calm down enough so that she can actually wrap her head around what's happened.

Their first time had been frantic, almost chaotic, but he had still paid her enough attention to make sure she was enjoying it, too. She remembers Roy's first time, and how he had come quickly and left her dissatisfied and hurting, but she thinks it isn't really fair to compare because they were kids then and Jim is an adult. Still, for what it was, he had kept it together pretty well. She remembers how she'd had his name on the tip of her tongue, arching toward him to tell her she needed him, and he had just got it before she even said anything. She remembers the laugh on her lips as he pulled a condom from his wallet, how she'd cocked an eyebrow and he'd smirked like 'well, obviously it's coming in handy, so I wasn't being too presumptuous'. She remembers how he'd mimicked her reaction when the second time she pulled one from her purse, which she'd thoughtfully managed to place on the nightstand during his assault the night before.

They hadn't spoken a word the whole time, but the silent banter, the way he'd laughed with his lips against her breast, had made everything so easy and carefree. She imagines nothing about sex with Jim ever would be forced. She tries to focus on her shampoo instead of continuing down that train of thought. Dammit, fucking him was supposed to make the sexual tension easier to deal with, it was supposed to be a release. But now she knows what he looks like naked. And that he's naked right now. In her bed. Their bed. Fuck.

She gets out of the shower and pulls on her least flattering jeans and an old t-shirt, letting her hair fall messily around her shoulders. Her skin is red from the heat and she's aware that she definitely does not look sexy right now, and she hopes that's a good thing.

She walks out and avoids looking at the bed, instead fishing through her bag for maps and pamphlets to plan their day. It's already nine, and she thinks they ought to get going pretty soon, especially since their check-out is at eleven.

Heading for the breakfast table, she steals a glance at Jim and notices his eyes are closed, though she thinks he might be awake. He stirs as she gets settled, hoping she can provide herself some distraction. It doesn't really work-- she hears his body moving against the sheets (oh god, the sound is kind of really hot) and she turns to offer him a non-committal, "Good morning."

"Morning," he mumbles back, looking slightly confused.

"I'm trying to figure out what we should do today. I was thinking we probably want to get on the road before dark. What do you think?"

"Yeah." His voice is thick and groggy and it makes her toes tingle a little.

"Well, check out's in two hours, you might want to think about getting up," she says with a smile. He groans and buries his face in his (actually, her) pillow and she giggles, picking up one of the decorative pillows off the floor and hurling it at his back. He mumbles something, but doesn't retaliate, and she tells him he's hopeless. "I'm going to go find some muffins, you want anything?" He doesn't seem to respond, so she says, "Muffins it is!" and hops out the door.

On her way downstairs she has a little time to think about whether or not she's doing the right thing by taking the tried and true friendly path where she smiles and they pretend nothing monumental has happened between them. It seems safe, but she's a little worried that that sort of thing isn't going to work after, you know, that. It's much easier when she's engaged and they just work together and he hasn't confessed his undying love for her, but what else can she do? Nothing that doesn't terrify her, that's for sure.

When she comes back into the room he's sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxers, his hands on his face as he stares at the wall, looking far away. He doesn't seem to notice her come in, not until she murmurs a soft 'hey' and something about the muffins.

"Blueberry?" he asks, turning to her as she plops herself next to him on the bed. Her grin is wide as she nods, pulling one out for him. "Thanks."

"I can't believe you like blueberry better than banana nut," she says conversationally, taking a big bite out of her muffin while she avoids looking at his naked chest. Or his disheveled hair. Or his-- whoops, let's stop right there.

"Who likes banana nut? Banana is, like, the worst fruit. It's right up there with the cranberry."

"What is wrong with you, I love cranberry, especially in muffins. In fact, the only thing that would make this banana nut muffin better would be if it had cranberries in it."

"You are lying," he says matter-of-factly. She looks indignant. "C'mon, you know that is a lie, that is like the worst muffin combination--"

"Dwight likes bran muffins!"

"Okay, first of all, way to bring up Dwight for the first time this entire trip-- I thank for you for that. Secondly, that is not an argument, it's Dwight."

"Shut up! My cranana-nut muffin is going to make me millions."

"Cranana-nut?" he asks, failing pathetically to hide his smile.

"Yeah, I just come up with that, like, on the spot," she says with mock pride.

"Impressive." He looks so cute as he says it that she leans over and kisses him, just without thinking, and it's slightly awkward because she's cupping his face with one hand and holding a muffin in the other, and he's just dumbly holding his muffin, but it's kind of sweet anyway.

She's blushing as she pulls away, and changes the subject. "So we're supposed to be checked out by eleven, we should probably get going."

"Yeah," he responds, his voice hazy.

"You mind if I use your computer while you shower? I'm thinking we might want to look up hotels or something instead of just randomly picking them when we get there, you know?"

"Yeah, sure." He seems kind of dazed and she's sure this has to be about ten times as confusing for him as this is for her because she knows she's giving him all kinds of mixed signals, which probably isn't very nice, but she keeps clinging to the hope that things will just work themselves out without being all weird and tense and awkward and painful.

She mapquests the distance to Vegas, and sees it's just under eleven hours. She's not all that impressed with Denver, and figures if they skip some of their plans here, they could get to Vegas that night. But it kind of screws up her plan to suggest they just drive right through, because seriously, casinos? They haven't spoken a word of that night yet, or anything regarding his transfer or Roy or any of it, and it's still too fresh for it to not be completely awkward. But she wants to see Vegas. Something about the cheesy glamour and that it's so different from her life in Scranton makes it seem like a waste to just drive through. She doesn't have too much time to come to a very good decision about what they should do, since Jim is already dressed and out of the shower (how do boys get ready so fast?).

"I googled cranana-nut, and it looks like somebody's already beaten me to the chase."

"There go your millions."

"I know, it's tragic." She pauses, a bit hesitant to continue. Although on some level she knows it'll just be more awkward if they don't figure this out now. "I was thinking, you know I'm not really into gambling, so maybe we could spend just like one day in Las Vegas? It's going to be hot, too, and like, I want to see all the tacky attractions, especially since we'll be driving through there anyway--" She feels herself rambling, and she's not exactly sure what her point is anyway.

"Yeah, no, I agree. I'm not really... yeah."

"Okay," she says quickly. "Maybe we can spend a few more hours here around downtown and stuff, then head out? It's a lot of driving and I'm really sick of driving, but if we switch off we should be okay. Get there by like eleven or so."

"Okay," he says in a way that makes her think he's just saying it, that he'd say 'okay' to anything.

"I mean, I don't know if that's the best way to go. We're going to be really tired, plus, this is stupid, but I hate paying for a hotel just to sleep, you know? It's the same price whether you get there in the early afternoon or if you get there late at night. Like, I could be using their hot water and free ice and pool and whatever all day, I'm paying for it, so-- okay, I sound cheap and ridiculous." She blushes nervously, wondering how she had just managed to make this discussion even more strained and uncomfortable.

"No, that makes sense," he sounds kind of distant and she can't tell at all what he's thinking, or what he wants.

"I don't know, what do you think? I guess if we stay in a cheap motel or something outside the city it won't really matter. I didn't know if you wanted to stay in one of the huge 'themed' ones."

"I guess--" He takes a step towards the bed and seems to be trying to focus on the conversation. "I don't know, I kind of like the idea of staying in one of those inordinately extravagant hotels, but it's not very practical and it might be kind of--"

"I'm sorry," she giggles, "but did you just say 'inordinately'?"

"What, what's wrong with me saying 'inordinately'?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, it's just you don't seem like the kind of guy who would say 'inordinately'. I don't think I've ever heard you say it the entire time I've known you."

"Are you calling me stupid?" he laughs, slightly affronted, though she can't quite tell if it's an act.

"No! Of course not, it's just... such an inordinately complicated word to say such a simple thought. What's wrong with 'very'?"

"Like if I had just said, 'those very extravagant hotels'? It wouldn't have meant the same thing. I could have used 'unnecessarily' or 'exceedingly' or 'superlatively' or--"

"I get it, you know big words, I'm sorry!" She thinks she's laughing harder than the situation calls for. "Okay and did you just use air quotes? Because I think that's worse even than--"

"Shut it, Beesly, or we're going to be late," he interrupts, feigning severity. "And I'm not going to pay for an extra night due to your shenanigans."

"Fine, I'll stop my 'shenanigans'." She mimics his air quotes.

He shakes his head solemnly, and says, "Such a dork," which of course causing her to erupt in another fit of laughter.

"Okay, okay, I'm really packing now."

They end up downstairs to check out just after ten, and then head to a cafe to plan the rest of their trip. Jim thinks they should splurge on some luxury room and order room service and pretend they're fancy, but Pam's not quite convinced... not because she doesn't think that it would be amazing, but because it's not practical and it's just not... she's a little scared, maybe.

"Oh my god, there's a hotel called 'THEhotel', look at this," she giggles, showing him her computer screen. "Is that not the most lame, pretentious name you have ever heard of?"

"You're right, we should go for the Venetian, much classier, like a taste of Italy."

"C'mon, THEhotel? That's eighty times lamer because it's not even a theme. It's just like 'stay here, it's the hotel, all the other hotels suck'. But they do have nice rooms."

"Then their marketing scheme is working. Sounds like it's the place to stay."

"I hate that they have beautiful rooms. Plus the cheapest they have for tonight is still $200."

"That's not that much..."

"C'mon, it's already looking like this vacation is going to take way longer than three weeks, we've already spend plenty on gas and rooms and it's only going to get more expensive. I'm just a receptionist, Jim, I can't really afford this-- I mean, I just became financially independent from Roy, my place is still more expensive than half of what our old house was, even though it's more than half as small..."

"Yeah, but this is still way cheaper than what I was going to spend in Australia, and it would have sucked to on this trip by myself, so really, you're doing me a favor--"

"So you should be paying me, like a common prostitute?" Her eyes go wide as she realizes what she's said, and she murmurs a hasty, "That was inappropriate."

"No, that's, uh," he scratches the back of his head, stifling a laugh. "Wow. Well, no, actually, not like a common prostitute.  But I do appreciate the company. And I'll pay for a nicer room, it's fine. Unless you're uncomfortable, I don't mind staying at a Motel 6--"

"No, it's not that. I would love to stay in a fancy hotel, that's not really... I don't know, it just feels weird, I would feel like I owed you."

"Seriously, Pam, don't worry about it. Personally, I'd rather stay in a fancy hotel because I've never done that before; that last place we stayed was like the nicest hotel I'd ever been in."

"Me too! I was going to say something but I thought it would sound pathetic."

"So now we're both pathetic?"

"Well, I suppose we won't be if we stay in a nice hotel..." She kind of hates that she's so easy to win over, but really, considering the outcome, she can't be too upset. "But that just pisses me off even more about getting in late, like this 'THEhotel', they have these amazingly beautiful bathrooms in all their rooms that I want to enjoy, you know?"

"Don't worry about it. We'll stay two nights and leave Saturday morning. That should give you plenty of time in the bathroom."

"Shut up, they have TVs in there and jacuzzi tubs. It's--"

"Inordinately extravagant?"

"Yeah, exactly. I want to enjoy that. Not that we'd stay there-- not all these hotels have TVs in the bathrooms and amazing tubs and hundred dollar towels, so I guess. I don't know, where do you want to stay?"

"Just look on Expedia or Travelocity or something and pick whatever you want."

"Whatever I want, huh? I'm pretty sure some of these places cost over $1,000 a night."

"Under $200, then. Go crazy."

She ultimately realizes that the rooms at THEhotel are the most decadent for the price, which kind of makes her angry, but Jim has no objections and she books a standard suite for two nights. She uses his credit card and it kind of puts butterflies in her stomach because there's no backing out now. Fancy, romantic hotel room, in Las Vegas, with Jim. She so didn't see that one coming a week ago.

"You want to do anything else in town before we go?" he asks as they settle back into the car. It's just past eleven, and they're hoping to be there in twelve hours, which allows for a few stops and little traffic or other impediments.

"I don't really have anything fancy enough for nice restaurants, I don't know if that's a problem. Do you?"

"No. I mean, I have a pair of slacks. But what I wear to the office is about the 'fanciest' stuff I own."

She laughs. "Okay, well, I guess we won't worry about it. I have the blue dress and heels, I can get some mileage out of that."

"You're not trying to sucker me into shopping, are you?"

"No, no. I'm not Kelly, trust me. Let's just get gas and snacks and head out? I'd kind of like to drive if you don't mind. I hate driving when I'm tired, so..."

"That's fine. We'll switch at the gas station."

They're out of town well within the hour, and Pam's actually kind of happy to be on the open highway, music playing softly, neither saying much, but it's not really weird. It's nice, but she gets bored before they reach 200 miles.

"We're out of new music," she complains. "Are there any games we haven't played yet?"

"Uh, truth or dare?"

"Oh-kay," she says skeptically. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"Okay. I dare you... to clap your hands five times."

"That's all you got?"

"Yup. Sorry. Let's see it." He obliges.

"Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to take your hands off the steering wheel for three whole seconds."

"Whoa, that's a risky one." She does it. "Okay, I think we're done with truth or dare. Name that tune?"

The whole trip continues mostly in that vein. They've done too much driving to be creative in their amusement anymore. Eventually they just sit in silence, windows down, and drive.

"We're reaching the 400 mile mark, you ready to take over?"

They pull over to get gas, refill on snacks, and she complains that she needs a real meal, but refuses to stop because she's getting tired and wants to get there as soon as possible. Jim says her logic is faulty and that she's impossible to please, and she just rolls her eyes and says he doesn't understand anything.

As night falls, she finds she can't fall asleep, maybe from anxiety. She's restless, and begins to complain that she just wants to be there and that driving is stupid and that she is just so tired and the car is so uncomfortable.

"Are you going to be like the rest of the trip?"

"Yes. I guess you haven't been around me enough to realize that I'm actually incredibly high-maintenance, and that there's no pleasing me."

"No pleasing you, huh? So should I just give up? Treat you to Wendy's and shady motels?"

"No. Well, maybe. But you've already booked two nights in a fancy hotel, and you're paying for it, so I would say I've already won."

"I thought you wanted Motel 6."

"No, I just made you think I wanted Motel 6. See? I'm also manipulative and conniving."

"Damn, all this time?"

"Yup. Sorry. And now you're stuck with me, so get used to it." She says it without thinking, but she quickly realizes its implications (she did mean 'stuck with me for this trip', right?) and changes the subject before he can respond. "Did we end up getting the cheesy crackers?"

He responds in the affirmative, and she pulls them out of the backseat and begins gorging herself even though she's not really that hungry. She just needs something to do. Even with a full stomach, she's not sleepy, and it's starting to bug her for real. It's almost ten, and they should be there within an hour or two, but it still seems like too long. Of course she's not exactly sure what she wants to happen when they do get there. She wants to sleep, but she also wants to enjoy the fancy jacuzzi (preferably, with Jim) and do... other things, too. Although other things are notably less exciting when she's exhausted.

When the city lights come into view, she gets really on edge, which is annoying because she's tired and she doesn't like being this anxious when she's tired.  Jim seems nervous, too, by the way he's gripping the steering wheel. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe they're not ready for this.

They pull into the hotel and Pam really doesn't want to deal with checking in, so she collapses in one of the waiting chairs and promptly drifts off.

"C'mon, sleepyhead, we're almost to bed."

"'Sleepyhead'?" she murmurs, dazed and reluctant to stand up.

"Yes, now I'll get your bags if you promise to walk the whole way there yourself. Which, by the way, is kind of unfair since I was the one driving while you had the freedom to nap."

"High-maintenance," she smirks, finding the strength to follow him.

Their room isn't very high up, but as soon as they open the door she can see windows opening up to a beautifully lighted view, and there are plush couches with fine pillows and a flat-screen TV and basically the room is amazing.

"Wow," she murmurs, suddenly feeling a little more awake. "Let's check out the bathrooms."

They find slab marble, an enormous tub, TV, shower, soft towels and it's so unlike what Pam's used to. She really, really wishes she weren't so tired, but she is so she heads for the bedroom. It's stylish, too, but she doesn't have too much time to contemplate that as she collapses on the bed. She's almost asleep again when Jim shakes her and tells her she really shouldn't sleep in her clothes.

"Hey, I put up with a bunch of complaining about bra chaffing after you slept in the car the other day, I am not going through that again."

She pulls her shirt and bra off at once, falling back onto the bed with a muffled, "Happy now?" She's being petulant, but she sometimes gets like this when she's exhausted. She barely contemplates the fact that they're not really intimate enough for her random topless-ness to not be weird, but she's face down on the bed anyway.

"Jeans, too."

"Sleep," she argues, but it's not very convincing, and he pulls them off of her before she can object. He even maneuvers the blankets so she's under them, and if she were more awake she would have wondered how he'd managed that.

She's almost asleep by the time he comes to bed, and he seems a little timid to touch her. She doesn't know if it's because she's practically naked and that's weird or because she's practically naked and that's erotic, but she shifts over to him anyway, wrapping his arm around her as she buries her face in his chest. The last thing she feels before she drifts off is his hand tracing circles on her back.

She's still groggy with sleep and she can't really pay attention to the conversation that's going on, only able to make out the fuzzy image of Jim tensing up, anger boiling in his eyes, and the hazy realization that this is Roy he's talking to.

She sits up and squints, trying like hell to piece together what's going on, because her brain is in panic mode and she's not quite able to wrap her mind around the situation. She brings her knees to her chest and tries to focus on what Jim's saying. She hears words likes 'asshole' and phrases like 'won't apologize' and 'you can't fucking say that about her' and she feels her blood start to boil because really, what right does Jim have to say those things? She's been practically cheating on Roy for four years, Roy has every right to be angry, and what does Jim know? She doesn't realize she's ignoring the other half of the conversation, or consider that maybe she's only getting angry at Jim because he's the one in front of her.

He slams his phone shut with exasperation, and he looks to her like he expects her to be sympathetic, and there's surprise in his eyes when he realizes she's so not.

"What right do you have to tell him off like that, Jim?" She sees him panicking, knows he can't respond. "Just because I broke up with him doesn't mean I don't care about him. We were together for ten years. You had no right." She can feel her own eyes burning and she barely has time to question why she's reacting like this.

"What are you doing, Pam?" His tone is timid and tense, and his hands out like he's trying to placate her.

"I'm serious, Jim, you can't make him to enemy! How do you think it must feel? Have you even thought about what I've done to him?" Suddenly she realizes where this is coming from-- that it's guilt. It's shame and it's everything that's made her feel shitty about this so far. But she can't back down now, and neither can she she think of what she's doing to Jim. "Do you have any idea--"

"He called you a whore!" As soon as the words leave his mouth he looks appalled that he's said it, and she can't even begin to--

"What the fuck do you think I am?" she spits, her words laced with self-hatred. "I was supposed to marry him last week and instead I'm off on the other side of the universe with my supposed best friend and we-- He trusted you, Jim. He trusted me." The tears burn her cheeks. "I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't, I don't know what I'm doing."

"Pam." She barely hears the words, barely realizes the way he's holding her now. She doesn't even think to be upset about it. She just buries herself in him, crying and wondering how she's kept herself from doing this for so long.

They stay like that for a long time, and a million times she wants to say something, but she can't, she just cries. Finally, "Jim?" He turns his face to hers but she doesn't meet his gaze. "What did he say?" Her tone is calm, but she knows he still can't react. He looks panicked trying to find the right words, and she puts her hand over his. She wants to know.

"Well, uh, he wasn't happy." A nervous laugh. "He started asking all these questions, like--"

The phone rings.

He just stares at it, like he literally can't think of a solution to this situation. Like he's frozen to the spot. She, on the other hand, barely hesitates to pick it up.

"Roy, you need to stop--"

"Pam?" Oh shit. Oh shit, did Roy not--? Of course he must have, that's completely--

"What?"

"What the fuck, Pam, you're actually fucking-- Shit, I mean I thought--"

"Isn't that why you called? To call me a whore for turning to my best friend when we fell apart?"

"Oh c'mon, you know he's not-- I talked to your mom, Pam. I know." She's never heard such hatred in his voice. She can hardly believe it's Roy she's talking to.

"What, exactly, do you know?" She tries to keep her voice strong, tries not to look at Jim, tries to just be some better, firmer version of herself.

"I know he's why we broke up! Have you been fucking him this whole time?"

"What? No, I didn't even know he felt--"

"He felt what?!"

"Calm the hell down, Roy!" She's never taken this tone with him. "You have to understand, we were never going to work out, not really. We just wanted to." She waits for him to yell something trite and hateful and when he doesn't, her heart almost breaks, because that means he's really listening. "All those things I said, I meant," she continues, trying to steady her voice. "Jim just helped me realize what was wrong with that relationship. He did tell me he was in love with me, okay? Yeah, he is. I didn't know. Of course I didn't." She's being honest and bare and she knows that this is a declaration to Jim, too. She's so goddamn thankful neither of them are interjecting. "That barely has anything to do with it. He just got me, alright? He supported me where you didn't. I didn't know it could be like that, you know? I always thought it was so twisted that he cared more than you did."

"Pam, you know I--"

"Please," she begs, and he seems to get it. "Just about the little stuff, he was that way. When he asked me about my day, he really wanted to know. And I always got that, but I never thought-- I thought he was just like kind of person. He told me he didn't have, you know, feelings and I believed him. So of course I was surprised when he told me. I told him I couldn't, I told him I was still marrying you. And then he moved away. That was it, nothing happened until after--" She stops herself. "But Roy, you have to know, this wasn't just about him. But there's the whole story. Just so you know."

Roy doesn't respond at first, but when he finally does, it's just a long line of words that they both know don't mean anything. That he's angry, but they both get it. This is just what they have to do.

Anyway, she's not really listening-- she's much more concerned with Jim's response. She's not even looking at him, but she's picturing him and going by how much tension she thinks is in the air.

"... why didn't you say anything before?" Right. Roy. She asks him to repeat himself and he gets angry again, wondering why she can't listen to him, but he gets it, she thinks. They've never really listened to each other, and she starts to explain that that was mostly the problem. They go on, saying things that mostly mean nothing, until Pam just can't do it anymore. She can tell Roy feels helpless, that he's furious, but mostly panicked, because apparently he didn't really get that this was over.

Eventually she can't do anything more than shut the phone with a quiet, "I'm sorry."

She's perched on the edge of the bed, looking straight ahead and not at Jim. She's trembling, just a bit, and she tries to steady herself.

"Pam, I'm sorry, I didn't--"

"Don't," she warns, tone severe. "Sorry, I just can't do..." she gestures to the phone, "that, again." She sees a nod out of the corner of her eye as she flops onto the bed, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips as her back hits the sheets. "Can we just watch a movie or something?"

"Yeah," he says, probably relieved that she's done with all the hard stuff for now. He goes for the pay-per-view movie guide. "Jesus, these movies cost more than a DVD."

"Don't care."

"Right," he smiles. "Let's see, Stranger than Fiction or the Holiday? You're up for one of those girly movies, right?"

They sprawl out on the bed, his hand playing aimlessly with her hair, and it's still the middle of the night and she wishes she could fall asleep. "Jim?" she whispers as the movie concludes.

"Hmm?"

"You asleep?"

"Why do you always ask that?"

"Sorry. Um, I just can't sleep." She shifts and look at him. "I think we need to go home," she says seriously.

"Yeah."

"I really wanted to see the ocean and everything, but I just... we just need to go home, you know?" He nods non-committally and she wonders if he's opposed or just tired. "It's not like this is our last chance to come here. It's just not--"

"It's okay," he whispers, kissing her head. "I get it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, whatever you want. I don't want to do this if you're not enjoying it."

A small smile creeps up on her lips. "I am enjoying it," she whispers, mostly to herself. He kisses her temple, mumbles something into her ear, and she the last thought she has before she falls asleep again is that her life has suddenly become so much more than she ever expected.