It's okay. I am totally fine.

Tonight there's a change in him, in the smallest of ways.  His hair is now a little bit rumpled, his sleeves rolled up.  Like his old self, but a little bit different.  It's okay, because she's like her old self, but a little bit different too.

There were miles separating them this morning.  Now he's close enough to touch.

He shuffles his feet, his eyes sheepish as he leans against the doorjamb, half in, half out of her apartment.  Just like he'd been half in, half out of her life since she'd met him.

He holds out his hand and she slips hers in his.   It's warm, safe, steady. 

In the car they talk about everything and nothing, particularly not the one thing she wants to know most.  She keeps telling herself it doesn't matter, he's here and he said "date" and that's really all she needs to know.  They pick a place to stop by process of elimination, discounting one because it's against her moral principles, another because she once acted immorally and isn't welcome. 

They finally settle on a pub halfway between her apartment and his.  The way they slip into a booth to the outside observer would seem routine instead of the biggest moment of her life.

They don't talk about how weird it's been or how weird it is that being together like this isn't weird at all.

He listens, his face lighting up as she recounts her day.  She is the center of his attention, he hangs on her every word.   She can't stop talking until she's told him everything he's missed.

What isn't resolved still hangs in the air around them but it's like a distant weather system, something that threatens harm but could just as easily dissipate, spinning out to the shoreline, never to be heard from again.

As the wait staff start to put up chairs he finally glances at the bill.  His worried look frightens her a little until she hears him speak. 

A smile blooms on his face as his eyes meet hers.  "Should I put this on my card or do you think they take Schrute bucks?"

xoxoxo

It is going really great.

He thinks it's adorable how she plans things out.  The covert operation of just getting back and forth to work amuses him to no end.

She plots every morning.  He almost expects the geographical coordinates to be written on a slip of paper he's asked to destroy. 

He happily walks the few blocks from the office, tries to hide his grin as he sees her slumped over the steering wheel.  He fumbles with the door handle then slips inside.  He can't quite get the seat belt over his shoulder.  He kisses her quickly, simply because he can.

At her apartment, she kicks off her shoes, throws the keys in a bowl on a shelf in her entry way.  He follows, tossing his bag on the overstuffed chair next to the couch, tugging at his tie as he sinks down, crossing his ankles on the coffee table. 

It's familiar and comfortable.  He's as at home here as he is at his place, more so if he really stops thinks about it.  It's because she's here, and that is all he really needs.

He watches her as she shuffles back into the room, in fuzzy slippers and patterned pajama pants, her hair thrown up in a ponytail.

She kisses his cheek as she stops on her way towards the kitchen mumbling something that sounds remotely like pizza close to his ear.

It's not life in the big city, but as he turns his head to touch his lips to hers he's just where he's meant to be.

xoxoxo

I don't know what I'm talking about. But I'm excited.

She sits at her desk, pencil in hand, tapping nervously.  She knows the logos she's come up with are not much, but they're a start. 

The fact that she's even attempting something like this is amazing in and of itself.

While she waits for inspiration she thinks of another time this type of opportunity came knocking.  She passed it up then, let it slip right through her fingers like so much sand.

Seems that lately she's grasping things she once lost and holding on tight.

Her pencil slides over the paper, a simple series of lines and shapes makes her unbelievably happy.  She turns the pencil over and erases carefully, perfecting one design before moving on to the next.

She's so engrossed in what she's doing she doesn't notice when he creeps up behind her.  He doesn't say a word, just squeezes her shoulder a bit before heading back to his desk.

When she catches his eye as he walks back to his chair he grins and says. "Just wanted you to know I was here."

Before she used to think she was simply too needy, but it turns out she only needed one thing.

xoxoxo

Tie goes to the girlfriend.

He leans back in his chair, gazes the stars, simply enjoying the moment.   He hears her giggle softly and he turns his head.  

Images flash through his mind as his eyes meet hers.  The first time they met, the first time they kissed, the first time...

He smiles when he asks her about memories, of moments from long ago, of when they both knew.   This conversation is his vindication.   He misinterpreted nothing. 

They trade questions back in forth, discussing the past, musing about the future.  It's like they've had a chance to do everything over - getting things right instead of constantly getting them wrong.

After a year of not communicating very well at all, words flow without effort, laughter floats in the air around them.

This night as they walk through the parking lot his arm settles around her waist, she turns towards him, buries her face in his shoulder.  He twines her fingers through his and twirls her around in a slow circle before pressing her back against the car.   She smiles when his lips brush against hers.

First dates are overrated. 

xoxoxo

The Beets Motel, The Embassy Beets, The Radish Inn

When she'd imagined it, she'd dreamt of Egyptian cotton, not bargain basement percale.   She'd dreamt of drowning in an enormous king sized bed, not navigating the precariousness of two mismatched twins pushed together.   She'd dreamt of lounging by a pool with a cocktail in hand, not wine made from beets and a trampoline act.  She'd dreamt of room service and breakfast in bed, not overflowing plates of bacon.

She'd dreamt of making reservations for a room for two, of driving with him, anywhere away from the ordinary, of seeing their suitcases side by side.  She'd dreamt of curling up beside him, in a room that was neither his nor hers, to a place where the memories would be simply theirs.

She wants to pretend a little while longer, wants this particular adventure to continue.  When she sees him walk purposefully back into the office she starts to ask where they could pick up where they left off.

Her question is lost on his lips.  She reaches up, runs a hand over his cheek.  He's saying something that she can't quite understand.

It's not until later, tucked in a corner, candlelight flickering around them she notices how quiet he is.  He can't seem to keep his hands off her. His arm slung around the back of her chair, his fingers teasing the ends of her hair, his thumb brushes a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

When she questions him he simply smiles and says, "Just happy to be here with you."  She leans forward, presses a kiss to his neck and whispers, "Me too."

It's just like she always imagined it might be.