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A/N: This is the first story I have ever written while intoxicated! I'm going to blame everything wrong with it on that! ;) No, but really, I was quite drunk and I don't remember what I was looking at or reading and suddenly Notepad was open?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I didn't even buy the drinks.


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On her way there, her mind wasn't clear. It was completely foggy, and her fiance was sleeping at home.

A home where he fell asleep on the couch like a little boy, dozing off to movie credits rolling upward on a screen. She'd tucked him under a blanket like she was in love, and kissed his forehead for a reason she couldn't find. It just wasn't clear to her.

Earlier that night, she'd alternated between chewing on nails and smiling at Roy. It was a quiet night, as most of them were now. The day was drawing closer, and there was a sweet sense of calm between them. She'd felt like it was dawning too late. Roy was almost a husband, and he started to reflect that. He seemed a little more rested, a little more mature, a little more okay for her. But at the same time, in light of recent events, he was miles and miles away.

It wasn't alright anymore, and maybe she'd seen it coming -- maybe. She wished the choice was obvious (well, maybe it was). She wished it was more like, he was a jerk. Like he screamed at her. Like there was an excuse for June, too. But none of it ever came, so she bit her thumbnail until she tasted skin.

It was quiet, but not in a tense way. He gave her easy smiles across the living room, and from the kitchen when he was throwing a pizza in the oven. He made standard jokes about his "domesticity" by baking a pizza. There was a laugh from her throat that she barely heard, instead just a bit startled by the roughness it used to come out. He didn't notice any of it, which was sad, because she didn't know if she wanted him to.

She didn't know if she wanted him. That was a scary and sad thought.

And then when her foot was against the break multiple times at red lights, she could only breathe shakily and close her eyes. She could turn around. With every red light, she figured someone -- something -- was telling her to turn around. That she could get caught up in things because she was human, but it was up to her to push through them. To get back on track, to move on. To remember what she had, what made her happy, what she should be grateful for. What was comfortable, what she'd had for so long, what was right.

And at that moment, around that little thought every time, the light would turn green and her foot would hit the gas without a beat of hesitation. She'd feel a chill of anticipation, fear, and a million other things -- maybe even lust, who knows -- and the lights would be far, far behind her.

The road was soaked with rain. It made that sound when she drove through it. Occasional puddles, so many she felt like sticking her head out of the window at the red lights to see her face. There were mirrors all around her in the car, obviously, but that was too many and if she saw her face, she'd definitely want to turn around.

When her eyes caught a glimpse of herself once, the light turned green, and she flipped the visor up and kept speeding through the streets.

She had nothing to say. She probably had a million things she could say, or maybe just one in particular. There was one thing she was sure he wanted to hear, and she could say that. She could try it, but that made her wonder a lot of things. She could try it, but she didn't know where to go from there. And there was still someone at home who didn't even know. He had a kiss pressed to his forehead, but her warmth had probably died there an hour ago, and the note in front of him on the coffee table might not be read for hours.

At another red light she felt a rush of head between her shoulders and up to her hairline. He could have already read the note.

No, he would've called her. Right?

He was a lot of things, but she knew he wasn't a textbook jerk. He was a guy's guy, and he could be some things, she knew how he could be...

And there were some guys who just weren't that. When the light turned green, she ached to pull the fabric of his shirt and press her body into his. When her foot pushed down into the accelerator this time, she sighed aloud and looked determinedly into the rear view mirror.

She was so close now she could hear the hum of the occasional plane through the window she'd opened next to her. It was just a crack, to smell the rain. To remember pure reality outside of her car, because she couldn't be caught up in a fantasy. That was how terrible things happened.

Jim.

When his name flashed in her mind, her heart stung for the man she was leaving at home. She had done this the wrong way, she knew, but the choices were confusing her. She had waited until the wrong time, had spent nights with the wrong man, had listened to the wrong organ in her body. Those were facts, but she was only where she was now -- almost midnight on a weekday.

If Roy didn't know before she did this -- and she was sure he'd wake up soon enough, he never slept long enough on the couch -- she'd feel like a cheater. She still did in a way, but she didn't know what was ahead of her. She didn't know what was going to happen when she ran through the doors, her feet beating the tile. She didn't know.

She didn't want him to leave without hearing it from her. It might change everything or nothing, both of which she was equally terrified. She had no idea what she'd do when she was through, actually -- because she couldn't go home to where she lived now, what other option did she have?

At some point, she had to roll down her window the rest of the way and pay for a short-term parking pass. Chills overtook her body and she shivered through the air of a humid rain.

She abruptly turned down the radio volume. Considering she didn't know the night would turn out, she didn't want to hear a song that would only remind her of this night forever.

She still, a little optimistic, stored the song in the back of her mind in case, maybe...

Some things in life are just funny, like the way she suddenly and coincidentally spotted his little car way, way across the parking lot in the long-term parking. It sent something through her again, and the feelings were familiar but also hazy, and for a second she felt in limbo like you are when you're drunk. When you know things just happened, when you can remember them but not really, and you feel like your body and reality betray you together.

It's perfectly dark and quiet outside, and she eased onto the break so simply, so distractedly, that right before she'd completely stopped, she bumped the car in front of her.

Her shoulders tensed, she uttered, "Shit." She knew before she fell out of the door with stiff legs that there wouldn't be any damage, she was going slow enough. Still, she surveyed it with a creased brow, thankful for not a scratch. Just one problem back on the roster.

When her shoes began making rough noises against the pavement, she suddenly missed her car moving through puddles. Simpler times five minutes before the ones she found herself in then, clutching her purse and walking towards the building in front of her. The one advantage, really, of the Wilkes-Barre airport was that it barely looked like a functioning airport. It looked pathetic and small, maybe approachable.

But it wasn't a busy, circus of an airport like the ones in the city, and that meant she could walk him and maybe see him right there. That made her feel sick.

The night since her workday ended played through her head. She hadn't seen him in days, she knew what he was doing while he was off. She hadn't talked to him, but Michael had. Australia came sooner for him, he just couldn't wait any longer apparently, and that hurt her heart.

At that little thought, she picked up her speed and she was in the building.

Every step was moving concrete with weak muscles. It was making her exhausted, the uncertainty of it all. She didn't even know for sure what time it was, when his flight left. Hell, the only thing she had to go on was the fact that his flight was a red-eye. She guessed he'd be here by now, and the car in the parking lot she'd seen only confirmed that he was. Or that he had been at some point, maybe the flight had already left.

She was in the midst of a couple ticket counters, completely perplexed. What did she do? Buy a ticket and go past security and... look for him? What was she supposed to do? Call him? It's not like she wanted to surprise him necessarily, she wasn't trying to be a romantic, she just needed to see him.

A woman at the ticket counter looked at her expectantly, coughing a little, so she approached her absently. She stopped short, when she fished around in her purse and realized she'd left her wallet in the car. She apologized and hurried out.

This is a sign, she said in her head. Something is telling me to stick with the program I have.

She was back in her car again, her hands gripping the steering wheel with her wallet in her lap. The roar of a jet overhead threatened tears in her eyes. He's flying away right now, maybe.

Her forehead was gradually meeting the top of the wheel when she found his car in the puzzle of the lot again. She whimpered pathetically, scratching her fingernail against the leather on the steering wheel. She breathed, thinking about turning around and maybe just waking up Roy. Just doing it for that alone. It wasn't about Jim, it had to be done. If Jim was gone and flying to the other side of the world, that was another part of her life.

She began to think about so many years with Roy, like she had over the last week, until her head was fuzzy. She couldn't cry anymore though, and it was a stunning relief and assurance she felt then. At that instant, the tail lights she was staring at became bright. She pulled up on the steering wheel as if it was the rung of a ladder and peered through the glass in disbelief.

She knew it was his car though. They shared a joke about the numbers on the license plate, so she knew.

In a rush of strength and adrenaline and some kind of will, she stepped out of the car again. She made her away across the parking lot, stepping over curbs and walking through beds of rocks. When she was close enough to the car, she panicked, knowing there was no way to get his attention without scaring him.

She was so aware of the moment, that her skin was sensitive enough to feel her eyelashes descend. She closed her eyes with a deep breath, waiting for even more power when they opened again. It didn't come, but she had enough in reserve to tap lightly on the passenger side window.

As anticipated, he jumped somewhat, then squinted in a small disbelief. She tossed him a slanted smile, and pointed to the seat in a question. He dragged his eyes away from her and the door clicked unlocked.

There was a beat of silence, and she decided she shouldn't waste too much time.

"I came here for you," she whispered.

He twisted his mouth to the side and swallowed, running his fingers over themselves.

"I didn't know when your flight left. How long have you been out here?"

"It leaves in a couple hours," he said, coughing to clear his dry throat. "I just didn't want to wait in the airport, so I've just been sitting out there. It got kind of muggy, so I turned on the air conditioning. But I've just been sitting here."

"Oh," she said with an understanding nod, her glance sweeping over the cars lined up all around them.

She let more silence run between them, and regretted that when she noticed four minutes had passed. It hurt to look at him, because she was choosing her words carefully in the moment. She'd spent her time rushing through red lights worried about everything she'd already done -- she spent no time thinking about what she would do.

He looked at her with a raised brow, and he looked so defeated that she had to end the silence again.

"I'm sorry," she said breathlessly. "I'm so sorry."

He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded, as if he knew where it was going.

"I did this wrong," she said, shrugging. "I did, it just took me by surprise. It still is. Roy... He, well, he doesn't know I'm here. He doesn't know about any of it. I don't think so, anyway."

His head had fallen back to rest on the seat and turned curiously toward her. She went on.

"I see that now," she mumbled, her eyes focused on her hands in her lap. "It came late, but it could've... um, wow..." Her eyes were wide, an ironic shrug of her shoulders, too. "I'm going to call off my wedding."

Suddenly she felt like a dam had burst, and he looked helpless.

"I'm going to call it off, and you know why, Jim."

He looked at her like she was telling him something huge. Like he wasn't in the parking lot of an airport, waiting for a flight to a country on the other side of everywhere.

A little insecurity fell on her. " You know, right?"

His head tilted to the side and he stared at her. "I don't know." His eyes slid downward, and she'd crushed him before, so she knew what to do this time to fix something. At least something.

She balled her hands into tight fists before grasping his hand, watching the pads of her fingers sweep across his knuckles. A spark of hope went up her spine when she noticed his eyes watching her fingers. She had all kinds of plans to move her fingers all around his face, appreciate everything about him while it was quiet and they had the time, like she couldn't before.

Instead, the hand came out from under hers. Before she could be surprised, he was kissing her. It was a kiss that was different from the last one they shared. This time he was holding her with hands on her either side of her jaw, fingers sprawled out on her neck. Their faces were simply pressed together, their lips smashed against each others. It was almost ridiculous, filled with enough passion that it looked funny.

When they parted, he was still holding her and her hands came up to his forearms. They looked at each other for a while, and Pam smiled because she wanted him to so badly.

His hard stare softened into a grin, and she leaned forward to kiss him for real. He was warm enough against her mouth, and it radiated through her body, making the air conditioning suddenly chilling.

His thumbs rubbed the skin on her cheeks when they parted again and he put kisses all over her face.

"I have a lot to take care of Jim," she whispered before she kissed him again, gently squeezing his shoulders.

"I know, I'm going to help you, however you need me," he said breathlessly, leaning down for another kiss, twisting his head to the side to deepen it and making her sigh.

She shook her head. "I think this one's going to have to be all me, Jim."

He joined her in shaking his head, his hair falling into his eyes. The sudden turn of events and change of atmosphere reflected in his eyes and Pam felt utterly happy to see him like this. Not heartbroken, not devastated, not hurt. Now he looked okay, and he didn't look afraid, and that made her feel better.

"No, I'm going to be here for you," he said with a strong nod. "I'm not going to go."

She went to meet him for another kiss, but the words made her draw back. "What? Wait, what?"

He looked dumbfounded. "I'm not going... I'm not going to, you know, the plane -- I'm not going."

"What? Why?"

"Because, um, I don't know." He withdrew his hands, scratched his chin, ran his fingers through his hair. "I feel like I should be here for you, I don't know."

"Jim," she sighed. "You're sweet."

He looked sheepish, grinned a little, and kissed her knuckles.

"But really, this one's for me." She watched his lips trace all the lines of her hands. "And you spent, like, your entire savings on this ticket. You can't throw that away."

He squeezed her fingers affectionately, nodding a little less surely this time.

"I'll still be here in a week, you know," she said weakly, still watching whatever his hands did to hers. "I have a lot to do. I don't know where to start. Talk to Roy, I guess."

"Find a place?"

"Ugh, god, yes. I forgot about that for a minute." She sighed. "I drove his truck, I don't even... Wow."

He chuckled a little, but it felt exactly like love to her and she felt incredibly warm inside.

"I'm going to go, but," he exhaled, and kissed her sweetly on the lips. "I'm going to want to be there for you when I get back."

Things were big and scary in the future, for the next couple of days, but she was right there with him. And it looked perfect, like she should have taken a picture. They talked for a little while before it was time for him to go inside. When she had to leave him, they ducked out of a line for an exaggerated goodbye.

She wouldn't say those words to him yet, she wanted things to be clear and she wanted to be ready for him before she said it.

She grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled him down for a kiss. He kissed her back, hard, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He hugged her waist and she licked his bottom lip and tried to soak up the feelings swimming in her then.

"Okay," he smiled, his eyes relaxed and dark and beautiful.

"Okay."


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yanana is the author of 39 other stories.
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