For the second time that day, Jim found himself in gross violation of Pennsylvania traffic laws.

"Going a little fast there, aren't you?" she teased. "Where are you in such a hurry to get to?"

Was she kidding? Well, two could play that game.

"Phillies have a late game tonight. If we hurry, we can catch the opening pitch."

I don't think so, Halpert.

"Well, seeing as though I only have one TV and there's an episode of CSI on, it looks like you're out of luck."

"That's fine. I'll just go home and watch it. We've got work tomorrow anyway. Probably best to get a good night's sleep."

Touche, Beesley.

But the secret to winning at chicken is knowing exactly how to make your opponent flinch.

Suddenly, she was leaning across the center console, her hand coming to rest on his stomach, dangerously close to his belt. Then her voice was soft and husky in his ear, "What if I'm not sleepy?"

He nearly drove off the road.

She burst out in peals of infectious laughter. "I win!" she proclaimed, sinking back triumphantly in her
seat.

"Yeah, I'll give you that round," he conceded, "but this game is far from over!"

"We'll see," her eyes danced. "You know you never did buy me dessert."

"Huh," he mused, "as I recall, you were the one who couldn't get out of that restaurant fast enough."

"Eh - conversation kinda died out. Thought maybe you were bored and wanted to go home."

"Right," he smiled dryly. "So what's for dessert?"

"Oh!" she pointed to a sign ahead. "Pull in there!"

"Pam, you do know this is a park, right? I'm not sure we'll find any dessert here."

"Just humor me, please?"

"Anything you want." He sighed, "You know we're gonna miss the first inning though..."

She didn't say a word although her look clearly said "Shut it", albeit in a loving way, and that was good
enough for him.

"Park over there."

Obediently, he pulled into a spot. Theirs was the only car in the deserted lot and he wondered what she had planned.

Without a word, she was out of the car and he watched as she crossed an expanse of lawn to a bandstand. A misty fog was starting to rise over the grass and as she bounded up the three stairs to the platform, she was illuminated by a single spotlight shining down. She twirled a bit and he watched, transfixed as she ran her hand along the railing, circling the perimeter and occasionally making a graceful turn. She made a slight motion for him to join her and his feet started moving before he even realized it. As he approached her, he wondered what song she heard in her head. His path collided with her arc and she reached out to take his hand and pull him close.

"Waltz with me," she whispered.

And though he couldn't hear the music, he could feel it through her. One, two, three - over and over they turned and twirled, their breathing growing heavier until finally she let go of him and whirled off in a trail of laughter, sinking to a heap on the top step. He dropped down next to her, leaning back on his elbows and stretching his long legs, catching his breath. He closed his eyes and breathed in the air laden with the scent of late spring and was immediately transported back a year to another spring night when she'd left him utterly breathless.

When he opened his eyes, she was hovering over him, all traces of laughter gone from her eyes. He smiled at her, unnerved momentarily by her proximity. "Hi," he said quietly.

"Jim, I need to tell you something." There was something in her tone that rendered him speechless.

"What is it?" he finally managed.

"I'm in love with you."

"Really?" his voice shook the tiniest bit.

"Yeah." She was still right there, if he just leaned up two more inches their lips would meet but before he could move she asked, "Am I too late?"

"Never, never, never. Pam - I still love you. I always -"

But then he found himself unable to speak because her mouth was pressed urgently to his. She kissed him like she was trying to paint the moment in her mind, experiencing him like he had never been experienced before. He was trying to hold onto every sound, every smell, and every taste of her.

Too soon she was pulling away again and staring up at the stars. He was unable to do anything but gaze at her in wonder. Without looking at him, she began to speak.

"When I was a little girl, my grandparents used to bring me here for the band concerts. We'd sit on a
blanket and get ice cream and listen to the music. Sometimes they'd play a waltz. When I was a baby,
apparently my grandpa used to twirl me around in his arms. When I got older, he taught me to dance with him. 'If you can walk and count to three, then you can waltz, sweetie!' he used to say." She was quiet for a moment. "He died when I was eleven and I still miss him so much."

Jim laid his arm over her shoulders and she leaned her head against it. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Are you cold?" he whispered.

"A little - I left my sweater in the car."

"Do you want me to go get it for you?"

"I have another idea." She moved over, nestled between his knees and pulled his arms tight around her.

"Better?" he asked. She could hear the smile in his voice even though she was facing the other way.

"The best," she sighed. She grew quiet and her breathing grew regular. He was beginning to think
she'd fallen asleep and was startled when she began to speak again.

"Do you know why I brought you here?" she absently traced a line up and down his shin with her finger.

"I think I do," he replied.

"This is one of the places in my life that holds so many memories. It's important to me - it's part of who I am." She stood then and turned to face him. "You're my best friend. I love you and I want you to know all the people and places in my life that are important and I want to know the same things about you." She traced her finger down his jaw. "What do you think about that?"

He caught her hands in his and took a deep breath. "I think I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone in my whole life."

"Me too," she replied. He saw her shiver again.

"You still cold?"

"No," she sniffed. "You just made me cry is all."

He squeezed her hands and chuckled. "I made you cry? Do you have any idea what you're doing to me? After all, I do have a certain manly reputation to uphold."

"No you don't," she snorted. "I bet if we went back to my place and put Beaches on, you'd cry like a little girl."

"Nah. Come on, give me some credit. Not Beaches, anyway." He thought for a second. "Maybe... Armageddon?"

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously? Wow. I guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did!"

"I can't believe we're sitting here under a perfectly good moonlit sky and you're impugning my masculinity!"

She looked at him closely. "You know that I'm kidding right?"

"I don't know if you are or you aren't," he shot back, "but remind me not to watch Armageddon with you."

"I am kidding!" she protested. "Let me set the record completely straight. You being able to cry? Being secure enough to show your emotions? That makes you more of a man than anyone else I know."

"More than Brad Pitt?" he teased.

"Definitely. And anyway, I never really thought he was all that manly."

"So then who is the Beesley standard of masculinity?"

"Well....I dunno. Maybe that new James Bond. What his name - Daniel Craig? Now he's pretty manly."

"Do you think he cries?" he pondered.

"Not a chance!" she laughed.

"So you were basically humoring me. You lied to me!"

"Not at all! You are the most manly man I know," she smiled and ran her hands up his forearms feeling the muscle and sinew and thinking about how safe and feminine she felt wrapped up in those particular arms.

"You know what? I think you have a little James Bond fetish. That's the second time you've mentioned it tonight!"

"Well, maybe a little," she admitted, laughing. "My friend just lent me Casino Royale. Have you seen it yet?"

"No, I missed that one. It did look good though."

"Well then," she said, tugging his hand, "we should go back to my place and watch it."

"Wow. This is turning into a really unoriginal first date - dinner and a movie?"

"What did you think we'd do in Scranton, Jim? Hop in my private plane and jet on over to Europe to attend the opera and then some fabulous party at a rich duke's house?"

"So... I guess that's out of the question?"

"My jet's in the shop. Come on!" She called back to him as she made a beeline for the car. "I'll totally let you make out with me during the movie!"

And that was an offer he simply couldn't refuse.