Desmond: I know this doesn't make any sense, because it doesn't make any sense to me. But...eight years from now...I need to call you, and I can't call you if I don't have your number
Desmond: Look, Penny, just give me your number, and, and I know I've ruined things, and I know you think things are over between us, but they're not. If there's any part of you that still believes in us, just give me your number.
Penny: And what's to say you won't call me tonight, or tomorrow.
Desmond: I won't call for eight years. December 24, 2004. Christmas eve. I promise. Please, Pen.