Title In Progress. {Seth Meyers and Amy Poehler}

Eight.

Zero months, zero weeks, zero days, zero hours, eleven minutes, twenty four seconds.

The seats were filled with people, the band setting up and the crew running everywhere. She had arrived an hour earlier, quickly moving into her dressing room. He decided he didn't want to see her yet, until he introduces her. His suit all of a sudden felt much tighter than the first time he tried it on a week earlier. Then again, it could be his mind tricking him because he is extremely nervous. Possibly even more nervous than his SNL audition or first SNL show. Because having your own late night show is different. It's your name in the title. you're the only one on camera when giving the monologue, when interviewing, when telling jokes or introducing musical guests. You have almost an hour to give a well rehearsed performance. And when you're interviewing its mostly not rehearsed, so who's not to say it would go horribly?

But then he stops and thinks; It's him and his best friend; of course things will go perfectly. It's after tonight that he should be worried about.

With less than ten minutes to go, he sneaks off into his dressing room to take a breather. With his face in his hands, he hears a soft knock on the door. He looks at the door through the mirror and sees a note slide underneath, then a shadow run under the door frame. He slightly smirks, and gets up to retrieve the paper. He reads the note a loud to himself. His smile grows and he chuckles, as he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. He exhales, folds the note and buries it into his pocket.

He'll read it over and over later.

He exits his dressing room, and with three minutes to go, swiftly makes his way back to the backstage area. The crews still running around, getting ready for his cue to enter through the curtains.

He does so, and begins his first bit, of pretending to write a letter. It all goes well, and his show officially kicks off.

The crowd is cheering louder than ever, and it feels like being back at SNL, but this time it's his show, with his name. He breezes by his monologue, basically his weekend update updates. But the audience is eating it up. The van diagrams does well, much better than he expected.

Everything is moving along fine, but he knows once its time to introduce her, it will get a thousand times more better. He actually is more excited about his very first guest more than his whole show. Even more than an interview with the Vice President himself, and he sees and talks to this blonde almost every day.

It's commercial time, in less than a minute he would be calling out her name. He's nervous again. He was nervous until the middle of his monologue, but now the butterflies are back. Why? Why is he so nervous about saying her name, and seeing her walk through the entry way? Because he hasn't seen her in over a month? Why should that matter? He doesn't know, until its time to call her name.

The commercial break is over, and the crew is giving him the go ahead of introducing her. He smears his face with a grin, and happily, while still trembling, her name escapes past his lips. It tasted sweet.

The music played, as he stood to greet her. She came out, and his blood stopped flowing momentarily. He made a mental note to tip the lighting guy. He already forgot his own name.

The dress fit her perfectly. Her hair was ultimately flawless. Her make up was complementing, and her smile bright. So were her eyes. Her most beautiful feature, in his opinion.

The cheek kiss and hug that was exchanged knocked him off his feet. She held his head with her small hands for a second, making him swoon. Her touch was all he craved for. The contact she made with his skin, felt like sudden jolts of electricity. It traveled throughout his body, quickening his heart beat. The cheering of the crowd was muted, and all he can hear was the beat pounding in his ears.

They made their way to their seats, as the cheering subsided. Her charm shined through immediately, causing laughter to erupt every few sentences she utters. So far, the interview was going perfectly. No awkwardness, or nerves, or worries. She was carrying this interview without a problem.

Suddenly, while she was speaking, his breath hitched, and he couldn't move for a moment. He noticed her eyes sparkling, the lights shimmering above her, created a halo that rested on top of her perfectly brushed hair. Her words became distant, but her beauty remained the only thing he can concentrate on. She giggled slightly, and he melted into her stare.

At that moment, absolutely nothing else mattered. Nothing at all.

Nothing except for the way her lashes curled when she blinked. The way her hands swayed as she spoke. Her legs displayed, crossed towards her ankles. The dress stopped just above her knees, showing enough skin to catch his eyes and have it linger for much longer than necessary. He suppose she notices, because soon she stops talking, and she says his name. At first he doesn't hear it, for he was in a trance. But after her third try, he shifts his eye sight directly to hers, and he swears, he would argue he was looking into the eyes of an angel.

His head and heart were having another battle, he can barely hear anything else. She stares and he guesses everyone else is too. She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can choke out a word, his heart manages to win over his head for the first time ever.