"Will someone please just kill me now?"

She looks at me pointedly and then continues working. "You're so dramatic, Pacey."

I open one eye and watch her from my head-in-hands pose at my desk before straightening. "In my own defense, I would like to point out that any sane person would have given up on this hours ago."

"Tell me about it." She agrees, but doesn't look up from what she's doing.

I turn back to my monitor in resignation. Anne's bosses have changed their minds about the design they want - again. So one whole week's worth of work now has to be completely redone. Lovely.

"What about taking a break, then?" She finally suggests, reading the expression on my face correctly.

"I think that's the best thing anybody's said to me lately." I grin.

"Funny," she replies, standing up. "Coffee?"

"Go ahead," I answer, glancing at her waiting by the door. "I just need to check on something for a minute."

She nods and leaves me sitting in front of the computer. I minimize Director 8 and open my Inbox, part of me already knowing what I'd find.

It's sort of become a pathetic habit of mine lately, checking my e-mail every other minute. It's gotten to the point where I'm starting to feel sorry for myself. But I keep doing it anyway.

The window opens and confirms exactly what I'd been expecting. Still nothing from a certain far-off museum in a certain European country.

How long's it been now?

I lean back in my chair and count the days since she last wrote. I guess I shouldn't really be surprised, since we both know that we're both busy, but something feels off. I look at my watch and compute the time difference, then pick up the phone and dial. Who cares what time it is? We need to talk.

She picks up on the third ring, and I can't find words for a few seconds, realizing how much I've missed her.

"Hello," she says again, annoyed now.

"Hey, stranger."

The line is quiet for several moments. "Pacey?" She asks doubtfully.

"Is there another guy that you were expecting a call from?" I joke, hoping my voice sounds like I'm joking. I'm suddenly getting a sinking feeling somewhere inside my stomach.

Joey laughs shortly. "This is a surprise."

There's a tiny tinge of sarcasm in her comment, hardly even noticeable if I hadn't been paying attention. Wait a minute, aren't there any phones in Spain? I ignore a small flare of annoyance and plod on.

"You're not too busy, are you?" Half of me regrets the question as soon as I ask it. This isn't going well, and I don't like it one bit.

"No," she answers brightly. "It's kind of the middle of the night here, Pacey. What about you? Aren't you at work?"

"I am, actually. Just taking a break. How are you, Jo?"

"I'm great, Pace." She pauses and sighs. Her next few words are measured. "I was actually trying to call you the other day… " she hesitates. My lungs stop working. "But I got the machine. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something."

I don't want to ask. Seconds stretch on silently while I wait for her to continue.

She clears her throat. "It's - uh…"

"Joey?"

The phone nearly slips out of my hand. "Who's that?" I ask casually, as if hearing a male voice call my girlfriend's name when she's in her room in the middle of the night is a normal thing.

I hear her sigh again. "Finn," she admits reluctantly. "I was just about to tell you that - "

"I see." I bite the words out, feeling heat run up from my chest to my head.

"Wait a minute." Joey says, sounding indignant. "I was going to tell you about it, Pacey."

"Right. After - what is it now, Jo? A month? A month and a half that you've been there? What, you just happened to run into each other in Madrid?" My voice is steadily rising, my hands gripping the telephone tightly. What the fuck is going on here?

"Stop it. Amanda asked Finn to help with the exhibit, too, Pacey. He's an intern, just like me."

"How convenient. And here I was, actually believing that you were being so quiet because you were busy working." The words come out of my mouth one after the other, the anger and hurt mixing in my head and making every last rational thought evaporate.

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe that you're miserable working with the woman you moved in with?"

That catches me off-guard. Fuck.

"What did you want me to do, refuse to work with her?" I defend myself, but she isn't finished.

"I mean, God, Pacey," her voice breaks a little, making my heart wrench painfully. "I was wrong not to tell you that Finn was here, but - " She stops, searching for words. "Know what? Forget this," she laughs sardonically. "I can't even talk to you right now. I have to go."

I've barely opened my mouth to speak when I hear a click, and then she's gone.