Author's note: Hey kiddos! This has probably been one of my favorite chapters to write so far. I just love writing as Ryan. Making him sound all desperate and nervous and cute (: hahah. hopefully you like reading it as much as I liked writing it! Love you guys lots.

7:58. Ryan groaned as he paced around his living room. Nope, still way too early to be calling someone on a Saturday. He couldn't even understand why he was awake so early. Normally, his days off consisted of sleeping until noon and then meeting the guys for happy hour. Of course, today was different. Today he was going to ask Pam Beesly on a date.

He thought of the idea last night as he slipped into his bed around midnight. "I'm going to ask Pam out tomorrow," he announced to his empty apartment. He slid between the sheets of his cozy bed and laid back on the pillow before a thought hit him. Oh my God, I'm going to ask Pam out tomorrow. Immediately, all the hows and whens and wheres and whys became strong enough to prevent him from falling asleep. He did everything his mom used to do when he was a kid to make him fall asleep. Drink warm milk, read a boring novel, count sheep, take Excedrin PM. But nothing helped. He eventually dozed off around four in the morning, and woke up two hours and twenty-eight minutes later.

Four whole minutes had gone by as he reminisced about his lack of sleep the night before. At least it was past 8:00 now. That's not too early, right? He knew it was, but was too impatient and nervous to put the mission off any longer. He took a couple deep breaths and dialed, cursing himself for thinking that even her phone number was perfect.

He heard a faint yawn as his call was answered. "Hello?" the voice whispered on the other line. Crap. She sounded tired. He contemplated hanging up, but decided that he had made the first step already; might as well dive in.

"I, um, hi." Another yawn. "Oh man, did I wake you up? I'm sorry. I just-- I'll call you later."

"…Ryan?"

He tried to hide his excitement that she could recognize his voice, but a gigantic smile crossed his face anyway. Cool it, Ryan. "Yeah?" he squeaked, immediately rolling his eyes at the crack in his voice.

"Uh," she sighed. "What's up, temp?" She still sounded tired, but now there was a touch of frustration in her tone. This was a bad idea.

"I, uh… Nothing. Nevermind. I'll see you on Monday I guess. Sorry for waking you up, I just… forget it. Sorry."

"Ryan," she interrupted, just as he went to hang up. "Are you really going to blow me off after waking me up at eight on a Saturday?" She did not sound amused. This was a really bad idea.

"No, I just--"

"Come on, temp," she laughed gently, putting his mind at ease. "Just say it?"

"Okay," he sighed. Deep breath… "Would you want to meet me for a late breakfast? Or… early lunch? You know, whatever you want to call it…"

"Most people call it 'brunch.'"

"Yeah, okay," he laughed. He hoped she couldn't tell he was nervous as hell. "Brunch. So?"

"Ryan Howard, are you asking me on a date?" she teased. He let out a huge breath he didn't know he was holding. She had no idea what she was doing to him.

"No. I mean--" he groaned. She giggled softly. "Yeah. I guess I am. Yes." And here comes the rejection…

"Okay."

"Wh… What?" He had certainly not been expecting that."

"Yes, Ryan. I'd love to meet you for brunch… or whatever you call it."

"Really?" he squeaked. He sounded like a high school cheerleader getting asked to the prom by the quarterback hottie. She laughed again. Way to flush your manliness right down the toilet on that one, Ryan. "Uh, I mean… Yeah. I knew you were going to say yes, because… um, who would say no to this? Because, uh…"

"Ryan?" she interrupted. He was thankful. "You're not that guy."

"Right," he breathed. "So, the café on 16th? At say," he glanced at the clock. 8:12. How was she putting up with him right now? "Eleven?"

"Sounds great. See you there." He said goodbye and hung up, instantly collapsing onto his bed. He laid there for a few minutes, one single sentence running through his mind.

She said yes.

Exactly two hours and thirty-two minutes later, Ryan was in his car, headed for the quaint café that would undoubtedly be the setting of the best first date of his life. He tried to keep his excitement under wraps, but quickly found it impossible to wipe the smile off his face. He had spent the remainder of his morning pacing around every room of his small apartment. First was the bedroom, where it took him a good half hour to decide on what to wear. Eventually, he decided that he had acted like a sixteen-year old girl long enough and pulled a pair of dark jeans and a light blue button down from his closet. He neglected his regular tie and sport coat, opting for a simple dark blue jacket instead. Then, he moved him impatience to his living room, attempting to find something to watch on cable, but nothing seemed to hold his interest. He groaned and wandered into his kitchen, content on distracting himself by making breakfast. However, as he sat down to eat the eggs and bacon he had prepared for himself, he realized that he'd be doing the exact same thing with Pam in a couple of hours. He begrudgingly dumped his plate into his dog's food dish. Roscoe would undoubtedly love this morning's treat.

Ryan put his car in park and slowly shut off the engine. 10: 52. Perfect. He checked his appearance in the rearview mirror one last time before heading inside. Pam hadn't arrived yet, which was probably a good thing. What kind of man arrived late for a first date? Certainly not the man he wanted to be. He slid into a small booth and switched his cell phone to "silent" before glancing over the menu board. He drummed his fingers on the table in front of him, and checked his watch a second time. 10:53. Good God, if she didn't show up soon he was going to go crazy. A painstaking four and a half minutes later, Ryan felt a brief gust of wind and heard a metal door shut behind him. He turned around in his seat and saw Pam looking around the small café. The corners of his mouth lifted as he called out her name. The grin that appeared on her delicate face made his all the more noticeable. As she made her way over to his chosen table, he couldn't help but check her out. That may make him sound like a creep, but he was immediately taken with Weekend Pam. Her regular pencil skirt and cardigan had been replaced with dark blue jeans and a tight purple sweater. She was wearing shiny black heels instead of her normal "sensible footwear," and he couldn't help but think that her shoes clicking across the tile floor sounded better than any other pair of heels he had encountered. She had taken the clip out of her hair, and it was now hanging around her face in loose curls. Her normally make-upless face was ever-so-slightly enhanced with a touch of lip gloss and eye liner. She smiled as she bounced into the booth across from him, sliding her purse off her shoulder and grabbing a menu from the table.

"Hey," she gasped, rubbing her hands together in an unsuccessful effort to warm them up. She caught him staring, and tilted her head a little. "What?"

"I like you in jeans," he blurted, afterwards choosing to hide behind his small menu. She continued to look at him with that cute puzzled expression of hers, before brushing off the comment.

"Okay, weirdo. I like you in…" she trailed off as she looked over his ensemble. Suddenly, he was very self-conscious of his choice of clothing. "Button-down shirts."

"Oh, well, it's a good thing I wear them everyday then."

"Yes it is," she replied with a smile. A silence fell over the table then, and Ryan cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So, know what you want yet?" he gestured to the forgotten menus in front of them.

"Oh," she gasped, startled by his comment. "Uh, I think I'm gonna have the cinnamon raisin bagel. With cream cheese. Ooh, and a fruit parfait!" He laughed. "What? Hey, this is technically my breakfast AND lunch. I'm allowed to have two things."

"I know, I know," he chuckled.

"Shut up!" she announced, embarrassed. "I'm hungry, okay?"

"Pam, you're having a bagel and fruit. That's hardly 'pigging out.'"

"Fine. Then add a blueberry muffin. Am I pigging out yet?"

"You're getting there," Ryan smiled. He hopped out of the booth and went toward the counter to place their orders. He decided to get them each a cup of coffee as well. He turned to ask Pam what she'd like on her latte, and found her staring back at him, her teeth biting into her perfectly pink lip. She turned away, a slight blush rising to her cheeks.

"Uh, sprinkle of cinnamon. Actually, if you could just put cinnamon on everything, that'd be great." He shot her a questioning glance, and she simply smiled in return. Shaking his head, he turned to the young woman behind the counter.

"You heard her."

"You know," she began as he arrived back at their table, food piling on a flimsy tray that reminded him of his college days. "This is nice." He sent her a questioning glance as he set their random food items on the table. "Well, it's just… Roy never took me out like this. No breakfasts or brunches or lunches. Sometimes we'd get pizza for dinner with his brother, but that's about it."

"Pam, that's really sad," he said sympathetically.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Sometimes I can't remember why I was ever with him in the first place."

He didn't know how to reply. He could tell this conversation had taken a intense turn, and he wasn't sure whether to continue with a deep, insightful comment, or make a joke. He let the first words he could think of fall out of his mouth. "Yeah… Why were you?"

She looked into his eyes then, and his heart broke for her once more as he looked at the mixture of pain and regret stenciled into her features. "Well," she started, suddenly sounding defensive. "It wasn't all bad, you know. I mean, he did care about me. We were in love once… we fell out of it, I guess. But by then it was so simple to be with each other. I guess I felt safe with him. Like it wasn't too much of a risk. But before all that, we did love each other. At least, I think he was in love with me. Or… Or maybe he was in love with the idea of loving me. Maybe he knew we weren't right for each other too, but went along with it like I did. Because it was easy." He listened to her story, her voice sounding weak and small, and all he wanted to do was reach over and hold her like he did before. Tell her that everything would be okay. That he wanted to make her safe too, but not like Roy. He wanted to make her feel safe because he loved her, not because she wasn't a risk. But you're not in love with her. He wanted to run his hand through her hair and whisper sweet reassurances in her ear. But the damn table was too wide and he knew his short frame couldn't reach hers. So he simply shot her a soft smile and let his fingers rest on top of hers. She glanced up at him then, and turned her hand underneath his so their fingers linked together, running her thumb against his.

They stayed like that for a moment, holding hands and staring into each other's eyes. After a while, her other hand found its way to her bagel and she took a bite, licking the excess cream cheese off her lips before speaking to him. "So, your turn. Worst relationship story."

"Oh man, where to begin?" he joked before diving into the pathetic saga that was his dating life. They had easily transitioned from topic to topic, discussing the color of their bedroom walls to what they wanted to be when they "grew up." They never once talked about work, and with the exception of their first focus of conversation, didn't chat about their romantic lives. He wanted to question her about Jim; what he meant to her, whether she loved him. But she kept the conversation going and he never had a chance to ask. Maybe she did that on purpose. He didn't really mind, as long as she kept talking. He could listen to her talk for hours.