He's finally cleaning out the storage room when he finds it.

The scrapbook.

The scrapbook she had been keeping since the start of their relationship. He remembers how tickled he was when he first discovered it in her apartment, teasing her mercilessly about it; how she had been saving ticket stubs, scraps of paper he had written notes on for her, even old take-out menus from places they had been on dates. She just smiled at him that day, told him she was allowed to have her girly moments, and that was it.

Skimming through it now, he's taken back to those instances he can remember - the menu from the Italian restaurant around the corner (he had spilled his wine all over the coffee table and the menu while she was contemplating food and he was supposed to be looking at depositions, definitely not her nibbling on her bottom lip); the ticket stub from the first sci-fi film she took him to ("How can you not like Forbidden Planet?! It's a classic!" "It's a sci-fi film. About a robot. In space. How is this going to be good?").

It's grown since that first time he saw it. Flower petals from their wedding, photographs of their honeymoon, even a lock of their girl's hair after her first haircut. He smiles, and goes to put it away when a corner unfolds, and he sees it.

The flash of red.

He can't help but to pull the sheet out from its confines in the scrapbook.

His fingers trace over the lines in the page, little dips and ridges that are long past having the strength to support the structure. Folded back and forth too many times. She had said he was ridiculous. Like a nine year-old, playing when he should be working.

But he hadn't been able to help it when she sat at the desk across from him.

He still doesn't even know what had spurred him to even do it, but he would never forget how she smiled - oh, how she smiled, struggling not to laugh at him - when the paper plane landed in the center of her desk, her handwritten to-do list, her lipstick print -

- and his phone number scribbled just below.

The start of it all.

It was a damn windy day, and it was all he could do just to keep a hold on his briefcase while he waited for the train into the city. He heard a groaned "seriously?" and watched a page fly by his head. He grabbed to his left and snatched it from midair, desperate to keep it from heading onto the tracks. As he turned to his right to hand it off to whomever had lost it, he dropped his briefcase to the ground to keep a tight grip on the sheet.

"Thanks." The word came fast. Short and sweet before she propped her foot up on a bench, a load of files on her knee, the one he had handed her threatening to fly away again as she eyed the oncoming train.

It was nothing. Nothing at all.

So why couldn't he stop staring at her?

She gripped the corner of the page between her lips, hands full of paperwork she was desperately trying to sort. Why she was trying to handle the sheets in the middle of the platform, he had no idea. As the train approached, she took a step forward to find a door. He stepped back, waiting for the next train, and as the wind shoved through the station ahead of the train, the gust tore the page from the pinch of her lips, sending it down the platform. He raced to get it for her - again - before she could get in the car, but as the doors started to close, he watched her get on the train, no choice but to leave the page behind.

He looked down at the sheet of paper, just a list of things that needed to be done that day. But what caught his eye was the red smear of lipstick in the corner.

This is silly, he told himself. Ridiculous. It's just some woman's shopping list, right? But that imprint, the reddish-pinkish stamp of her lips on the page held his gaze. Quickly, he folded the list up, shoved it in the pocket of his jacket. Maybe she took the same train every day. Maybe he'd see her again. So he would hold onto it...just in case.

He hadn't been able to shake the thought of her even as he walked into the office. It made him feel childish. No one really had a 'love at first sight' moment, and yet, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman in the fitted black suit, shuffling papers in the wind. Had she really had a glow about her head of auburn hair? Or was the sun playing tricks on his eyes? He hadn't even really seen her face...

But she was on his mind nonetheless.

Paperwork was dull. Usually he didn't mind working - loved it, in fact. He was only starting out at his firm and some of the more seasoned lawyers had been especially generous in helping him grow. They had even given him a case of his own to take the lead on. Sure, it was no newsworthy trial - just a kid from a rough side of town accused of holding up a drugstore - but it was his.

And he was going places.

But where had she been going?

The news had been floating around the firm for a few weeks. One of the senior partners had found some "bright young law student" that he was determined to bring in. It had all been talk up until then, some of the younger lawyers he worked with had even been worried they would be bumped out by this nameless, faceless new mind.

But he wasn't worried. Nope, not at all.

Until the whispers started just after lunch that day.

But he wasn't worried, he repeated to himself. So he returned to his desk, his little haven in the corner of the firm's nerve center. Surely this new guy wasn't a big deal. Just another new kid like him, fresh out of school, searching for a future. He averted his eyes down to the case documents he needed to review, tried to focus on the information, the story he'd need to tell once he reached that courtroom.

Except there was too much on his mind.

There was chatter going on at the front, around the kitchenette, the desks around him. What the hell was so impressive about this guy?

Slamming his pen down he stood, snagged his mug and marched off, determined to get fresh coffee and finish his work. He hadn't been paying attention, too frustrated at himself for letting the day slip away, annoyed at the buzz around the office, and his mother had been-

-he walked into someone.

Shit.

He walked into someone because he wasn't paying attention and the cold coffee that had been sloshing around in the mug splashed over and onto both of them.

Shit.

"Oh, I, ah - I'm sorry, I've just been so-" He looked up.

And there she was.

Her.

Arms empty this time, still perfectly put together but for the crisp white shirt underneath her suit that was speckled with faint brown spots of coffee.

But...when he looked up at her face, she was smiling.

She had beautiful big brown eyes, some of the longest lashes he had ever seen, and a dazzling white smile, framed by deep reddish-pinkish lipstick.

He smiled back and hoped he wasn't making an idiot of himself.

"I'm so sorry," he had shuffled to find a corner of a desk to rest his mug down, "I just," he stuttered. "Here," he moved to lead her to the kitchen, to get some napkins, or something...

Then the most glorious laugh fell from those red lips. "It's alright," she giggled, "I swear. I wasn't looking either."

As subtly as he could (not at all subtly) he swiped his palms against his pants, hoping to quell the shaking before extending his right out to her.

"Hi," he grinned, "I'm Jim."

Her hand moved to rest in his, a comforting, warm, soft weight. "I'm Jo. Johanna."

A/N:

So TappinCastlefan actually sent me a video earlier in the day, and my immediate reaction was "Oh my gosh, this is Jim. And Johanna." It then turned into "This needs to be written! Now!" So we planned on writing it at some point. I actually headed into the shower (scandalous!), wrote out the entire opening in my head, ran out of the shower, and typed up what I really wanted to see in the story. She added onto it, and less than two hours later, we had this! I just thought the video was so adorable (I thought of Jim because the main character actually looked like him) and would be a great way to see Jim and Johanna first start out.

- ajksmusic

It's very interesting to try to write an author's note at the same time, which is what we are doing right now (trying to do) in a google doc - quite amusing.

But yes! I sent ajksmusic a link to 'Paperman,' Disney's most recent short and we both fell in love with it, and her idea. Spurred a two hour joint writing session! We've been talking about writing together again for a long time and nothing really felt right until this, and we're both hopelessly in love with how it turned out. So we hope you like it.

(Also, everyone should go watch 'Paperman' now, because it's beautiful.)

All reviews will be forwarded! Please let us know what you think!

-Tappin