He stares out the window of her car. Why didn't he ask her to drive his?

Right. He didn't want to press his luck.

Why had she agreed so quickly to come get him? He tries to concentrate on the few stars showing in the sky. He really doesn't want to press his luck.

"I'm glad you called," she finally says. Someone had to talk, eventually. "I was kind of...I was starting to worry about you." Her eyes never meet his.

"Look at me," he pleads. Her heart breaks as she shakes her head 'no.'

"I'm driving," is all she can think to say.

He sighs, and goes back to trying to concentrate on the stars. "Star light, star bright..." he mutters. If she heard him, she's not showing it. Why can't he make her laugh?

She doesn't want to laugh. She wants so badly to drive right back to his house, push him out, and go back home. After about three hours of Sex and the City, though, she wants even more to be away from Kelly.

She really shouldn't think of Kelly like that. It's wrong, and she knows it, but Kelly is just so...unstoppable. That's the nicest word she can think of.

She pulls into a Subway restaurant. He thinks he might throw up.

"C'mon," she says, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Something healthy might do you good."

He catches her stare and is determined to make her hold it. He just wants her to look at him.

"Pam," he starts.

"C'mon." She's up and out of the car before he can undo his seatbelt.

He stands at her side, waiting in line. She simply grabs a bag of Baked Lays and a cup for a soft drink. She flops a twenty down on the counter, and says she's paying for him, too. He plays it safe, a ham and cheese on white and a bottled water.

She's sitting, staring at the bag of chips, when he finally sits down and joins her, placing her change infront of her on the table.

"No Sun Chips?" he asks, hoping to coerce even a grin.

"Nope." She crunches down on a chip rather loudly, cutting off any of that conversation. His stomach drops, and he's not sure he's hungry anymore. He takes a bite, anyway.

He doesn't notice her studying his face. Her eyes dart and scan every inch, searching for something he thinks she must not have found, because she asks, "Why'd you call me? Just wanted food?"

He swallows hard. "It's not like that."

"I didn't say it was, but now that you have...Listen. I can't-"

"Don't. Don't do that. Jesus. Don't do that."

"Don't do what? You're the one not doing anything. I called twice. I left a message. I bailed your ass out with Michael. He wanted to go to your place and check on you." She looks angry. 'Angry' doesn't do what she's feeling justice.

"I...Thanks. Really? Wow." She's still waiting. "I'm..." He rubs his forehead. "I'm pretty hungover but...I did get your message. I swear, I had just reached my phone when I guess voicemail picked up. I'm sorry."

She stares into her cup. "I told Toby to um...Have the papers ready to nullify, or whatever he does with them."

He nearly chokes on his sandwich. "Why?"

"It'd been two days. I thought you fell off the face of the planet or something. It's not like you to get wasted and skip two days of work."

"And you think that means we're over?" He lowers his voice. "I'm not," he chokes on his words. "I'm not "done with this," Pam."

"And..." She takes a small bite of a chip. "And what if I am?"