When he walks in, he spots Ryan and nearly waves. Then he sees Kelly coming out of the restroom, and a deep-seated survival instinct propels him backwards out the door.

He ends up at Poor Richard's. What it lacks in appetizer selection, it more than makes up for in screens with basketball on them. He orders a beer and settles in. The Knicks are still losing when he hears the last voice he wants to hear.

"Hey, Halpert."

Crap. He looks over to see Roy walking toward him. "Hey."

Roy sits on the stool next to him and signals to the bartender to bring two of what Jim's drinking.

"No, that's...okay."

Roy glances at the television. "How they doin'?"

Jim shakes his head. "Nowitzki's on fire."

Roy chuckles. "So, not good?"

"Not good." He drains the beer he was already drinking. "Not good at all."

"Yeah, the hockey game's not much better. Darryl and Lonny just left to find a better time."

"But not you?"

Roy frowns at him. "No."

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

Jim looks at him. "Why'd you tell Pam not to take that internship. The graphic design one."

Roy turns his body toward Jim. "Is that what she said?"

Jim is silent.

Roy shakes his head. "Yeah, that's not how that conversation went."

"Really."

"Really."

Jim looks at him for a moment, then looks back at the game. "It's none of my business."

"No, obviously she made it your business, so let's get the story straight, alright?"

Jim looks at him again. "You didn't tell her the internship was ‘no guarantee'?"

"Sure, but let's start at the beginning."

"Okay."

Roy nods. "She told me about it. She was excited. And I told her it was her decision."

"You supported it?"

"Sure. But I told her if she was serious about the internship and a design job, she needed to be willing to move to The City."

"But you also told her there was no guarantee anything would come of it."

"Mm-hm, and then I said I'd go with her anyway if she thought she was up to the challenge."

Jim stares at him.

Roy takes a sip of beer and shakes his head. "I think she was actually frustrated that I didn't make the decision for her. Is that weird?"

‘I'm fine with my choices.'

"No, it isn't."

They watch the game in silence for a while, then Jim turns to Roy.

"I'm sorry, man. I didn't have the whole story."

"That's alright." Roy takes a drink. "You seeing Katy tomorrow?"

"Oh. No, that's over."

"Yeah?"

"Yup."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah." Jim takes a long draw on his pint. Yeah.

Roy looks at his beer. "Did she ever fake it?"

Jim chokes. "Excuse me?"

"You know. In bed."

"Wow. This is not enough beer to ask me that."

"You're right." Roy flags down the bartender again. "Andy, can we get a pitcher over here?"

Jim's stunned. "You can't be serious."

Roy pays for the pitcher. "Thanks, man."

"You're serious."

Roy looks at him squarely. "This isn't about Katy. It's about Pam. I need your help."

Jim stares at him.

"Jim, I'd really appreciate your help."

"With..."

"I think Pam fakes it. And I think she's been faking it for a long time."

He's serious.

Jim shakes his head and slides his glass toward Roy, who fills it.

"Booth?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

*  *  *  *  *

"You know, it's not like she tells me this stuff."

"I know."

"Then why me?"

Roy sighs. "I can't talk to the guys, man, they'd never let me live it down. And I've seen the girls you've gone out with. I mean, Katy? Damn. Sorry. I just mean, you seem like you might...know what you're doing. With women."

Jim has a sneaking suspicion he knows where this is heading, and he's not sure there's enough alcohol in the whole bar for this conversation.

"I just thought...I don't know. You seem like the right guy to ask."

"To ask what?"

"How to, you know...make her happy."

Don't say it.

"In bed."

"Oh, no. No, no." If Jim could leave his body, he would. What the fuck?

Roy looks down at his beer. "I just want her to be happy." Then, more softly, "I'm afraid she's given up on me."

Jim lands back inside himself with a thunk, Roy's words echoing in his head. He looks at Roy, really looks for the first time. The frown and the embroidered name tag and the biceps. Loyal, dependable, protective. In love. Worried. Vulnerable.

Damn.

And Jim knows now that he's going to help, because he never would have laid himself bare to Roy like Roy's just done.

"Okay."

Roy looks up. "Yeah?"

Jim nods. "Yeah."

"Thanks."

*  *  *  *  *

Jim takes a deep breath. "What makes you think she's faking?"

"She sounds different. Not like when we were younger."

"Maybe she was faking then."

"No. ‘Cause, also..." Roy shakes his head. "Man, this is fucking awkward."

You think?

"When she... finishes... I don't feel her muscles tightening. You know, inside."

Jim nods. "Yeah. You may be right."

"So what can I do about it?"

"Well, what are you already doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean are you helping her? Are you... touching her?"

"Sometimes, but I'm not sure I'm doing it right. Most of the time she tells me not to bother."

Not to bother? Shit.

"Okay, let's back up. There are a lot of ways to get things moving. Even before you're undressed."

"Like what?"

"Well, like talking to her."

"Dirty?"

"Not dirty, necessarily. Just, like, telling her she's beautiful. Or that she smells nice. It'll make her feel good about herself." He looks pointedly at Roy. "And that has to happen."

Roy nods. "What else?"

"Well, help her get undressed. Let her hair down. Take her shoes off. Just... take your time. If you go straight for the bra, it's all about you. If you, I don't know, explore her a bit first, then it's more equal, you know?"

"She likes it when I kiss the back of her neck."

Jesus. "Then do that. Every time."

"Okay."

"And listen to her. Not just the words. Listen to the noises she makes. If it sounds like she's enjoying something, do it a little longer."

"What if she's not making any noise?"

"Well, it doesn't mean she isn't enjoying herself -"

"She's pretty loud when she likes something."

Fuck. "Yeah, let me finish. She may just be paying close attention. Or listening to you. But if you think she isn't into something, just move on."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Silence.

"Um..."

"Right, moving on." Jim takes a gulp of beer. "When you're... inside... what are you doing with your hands?"

"Depends. I mean, sometimes I'm holding myself up, you know?"

"Yeah, okay. Well, try to figure out some positions that free up one of your hands. Because chances are, she's going to need some help. To finish." Jim slides his hand over to Roy. "I know this is weird, but show me what you do."

Roy looks at Jim's hand then back up. Jim gives him a look that says, You asked. So Roy shrugs and starts rubbing the back of Jim's hand with his thumb. His motions are linear, back and forth, and too hard.

"Okay, first of all, use a lighter touch. From what I've been told, it's a pretty sensitive area, and can just go numb. And try a circular motion. It's worked for me."

"Like this?"

"Yeah, that feels about right."

"What about when I go down on her?"

Jim pulls back, scrubs his face with his hands, and wonders if his head could actually explode. "Um, what about it?"

"Well, same pressure? Same... motion?"

Jim steels himself. "Okay. Here's what a woman told me once. If you aren't careful, the tip of your tongue can feel really hard down there. It's better to keep your tongue flat. Keep it wet and use light pressure. Circular motions up top. Long strokes... everywhere else. And whatever you do, don't flick her. You're likely to get kicked."

Roy chuckles. "You been kicked?"

"I'll never tell."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. And apparently stubble can be pretty rough, too, so try not to sandpaper her with your chin. But fingers, lips, tongue, nose? All good."

Roy chuckles again.

"Seriously, though, if what you're doing isn't working for her, let her do it for herself."

Roy looks skeptical. "She's kinda shy about that."

"Insist if you have to. I mean, let's face it: you're almost always gonna come. So you've gotta try to even it up as much as possible. Right? Bottom line: the more comfortable she is, the better."

"Right."

"And like you said, you want her to be happy. So make her want to be happy." Please.

Roy smiles and nods. They finish their beer. It catches up to Jim as the game's ending, and he yawns.

Roy looks over. "So what are you doing tomorrow? Hot date?"

"Poker game."

"Nice."

Yeah.

"Jim?"

Jim looks up.

"Thanks, man."

Jim nods. "Sure." He laughs. "Good luck."

Roy laughs with him. "Thanks. I'd better get going. See you at work tomorrow?"

"Yup."

"Sweet. Take it easy."

He watches as Roy waves to the bartender and shoulders out the door into the cold.

He's surprised to find that he's almost rooting for him.

Almost.