An awkward pause and then she asks, "Maybe tomorrow?" Her tone is anxious, but hopeful.

"Uh... I don't--" He runs a hand through his hair and smiles nervously. "I'd love to, but I don't know if I can really... do that again."

"Do what?" she asks quickly, more seriously.

"Nothing, nothing." He's looking down at his water bottle. He decides to change the subject. "You know when Michael and Dwight went to that convention a while ago?" She nods, a little surprised by the sudden question. He goes on, "I got an extra room key to play a prank on Dwight and uh..." He's trying to keep himself from laughing. "Dwight got a hooker."

Pam's eyes goes wide in shock, and then a realization sets in. "Did you, uh, get a good look at her?" She's fighting back a laugh.

"God, no! I got out of there as soon as I could. Why would you want to know something like that? Wondering Dwight's type?"

"No!" she exclaims, giggling. "But I don't think that was a hooker..."

Now Jim's eyes go wide. "What-- is... does Dwight have a lover?" Such a discovery threatens to change everything. He thinks briefly that he's getting into something he was so determined to stay away from. No more pranks, no more laughing with Pam. But it's just so easy to give in... He suddenly notices Pam's nervous nodding. "Oh my god, do you know who it is? Not someone we know, I hope?"

"Um," she replies, biting her lip.

"Oh my god. Do you realize what this means?" His tone feigns severity.

Pam's smile slowly fades. "I've been keeping this secret for like, a year," she says quickly. "I don't want to expose them or anything."

"It's someone in the office, then? Someone who works here everyday? Do not tell me it's Meredith." He tries to picture the form he glimpsed in Dwight's room. It was someone... petite... blonde... "Oh god, Angela?!"

"Look you cannot bring this up with them, okay?" Jim is still in shock, but grinning as he considers the possibilities with such information. "I'm serious!" she says, trying not to punctuate her statement with a laugh. Jim is tentative, but finally gives in with an overstated sigh. She decides to add, "But I have been missing out on the usual pranking..." Her look is hopeful.

Jim's face turns slightly more severe. "I thought maybe I'd try to move away from that," he says, looking down. "I'm the number 2 in the office now and everything..."

"Oh, yeah," she replies, trying to sound upbeat. "No, I understand." She pauses. "But didn't you say you stole his room key? That wasn't very long ago."

He shrugs. "Yeah it's hard to resist sometimes..."

"God, I know. And I totally suck at pranking without you here."

"Have you tried something?" He's grinning, imagining her trying to pull one off by herself. It's an adorable image that threatens all of his progress.

"Yeah," she replies, her face red. "It didn't really work." Jim's smile begs her to go on. "I tried to hide all his pencils. But he caught me and I actually said 'oh, I didn't know there were yours.'"

"You didn't." He's trying desperately not to laugh in her face.

She nods, giggling now. They both lose it and Jim begins sarcastically insulting her ('Wow Beesly, you really suck without me, don't you?') and it just feels so much like old times. It's beginning to give him a little hope, to be honest, which is the last thing he wanted to encourage.

"Ooh-kay," comes a foreign voice. Michael. "Sorry to interrupt, I--"

Jim quickly tells him he's not interrupting anything, but a few awkward moments later he's out the door again.

Pam looks nervously up at Jim, a hopeful grin on her lips. What the hell, she was the one offering coffee... and maybe... Fuck it. It's worth another chance. "About that coffee..." he says with a smile.

They agree to go out that night ('I thought you said...' 'Oh, yeah, no, I can--' 'Okay' 'Yeah' 'Cool'). Jim feels a twinge of guilt because he was supposed to meet Karen later, but they're technically still just friends. Forget that she kind of moved here for him. Forget the increasing obviousness in her flirting. Forget Karen, because when he sees the way Pam's eyes light up as he suggests one of the more intimate coffee shops, he can't think of anything or anyone else.

"Do you want to just take my car?" Pam offers, and then feels weird. "It won't really be out of my way to drop you back here..."

"Oh." He thinks briefly of Karen, but then realizes she's already left. He had given her some sort of half-assed excuse for canceling and he tries not to focus on the guilt for now. "Yeah, that'd be great. Save on gas."

A smile spreads across her face. "But you better be buying if I'm driving." Her face goes slightly pink, surprised at her own forwardness. This isn't supposed to sound too much like a date. Even if she is hopeful...

Jim swoops in with a friendly, "Of course." Those simple words make her toes tingle.

When they get there, Jim's feeling adventurous and orders a shot in the dark with raspberry flavoring. An odd choice, but he wanted something a little more bold than his usual decaf latte. Pam raises her eyebrows at his daring order and says she'll have the same. "No, make that without flavor. Actually, can it just be a shot in milk? Wait, that's a latte. I'll just have... a latte." Jim laughs earnestly at her, and she murmurs, "Shut up", punching him lightly in the side. They agree in unison that the order is 'for here'.

"Raspberry and coffee?" she says as they sit down, making a disgusted face. "Glad I decided to change my order."

"I don't know, raspberry is good in a mocha... figured I'd try something new."

"Sometimes you have to stick to the basics," she muses.

His head is nodding, but his mouth is saying, "Sometimes it's worth taking a chance."

A frown touches her lips briefly before she's all smiles again, but it doesn't escape Jim's notice. He's trying not to think about what he's getting himself into, or the implications of their little 'date'. The last 'first date' he had with her, he found out she was engaged. So... hopefully this will go a little better. "Your hair looks really nice today," he finds himself saying. He'd been surprised to see her looking so well and had assumed it was part of her new independent lifestyle, because surely it couldn't just be about his return.

"Yeah I wanted to look nice for--" she stops herself, choosing her words carefully, "the new employees." She's fiddling with her necklace. "They say the receptionist gives the first impression for the whole company... although I'm sure any of my efforts would be quickly overridden by Michael's."

Jim lets out a laugh a little louder than he'd expected and agrees. "Well I noticed."

She bites her lip and Jim notices a sparkle in her eyes. "I was pretty nervous, actually."

"Meeting new people is always nerve-wracking."

She wonders if he'd missed her meaning or if he's pretending he didn't catch it. "Yeah." She pauses. "I've been meaning to tell you that... I'm sorry I didn't like call you sooner or something. I mean when I broke off.. the wedding." The words are more painful than she'd anticipated. "I was nervous, I guess, and I wanted to be on my feet first-- ready." She dares to look him in the eyes as she cooly adds, "And I am now."

Her words make him tremble and he's amazed how much power this woman still has over him. He opens his mouth to reply, but the waitress cuts him short. "Medium latte?" she asks. Pam is flustered and manages a nod. "And a raspberry shot in the dark." Jim smiles and murmurs a 'thanks'. When she's gone, his eyes go back to Pam. She's fidgeting with her skirt and even in the poor light he can detect a blush, so he offers a taste of his drink.

"Don't you want to try it first? I haven't even tasted mine yet."

"Oh." He scratches the back of his head absently. They both take a sip. "Okay, now would you like to try?"

She giggles and nods, taking the proffered drink from his large hands, her fingers brushing his. She brings the oversized mug carefully to her lips. "Wow, that's... strong." Her eyes look widely at the drink, as if it possesses some sort of greater power. "But not too bad."

"With this much sugar and coffee I'll be up all night," he laughs, taking it back.

A vivid image of what could possibly be keeping him occupied all night fills her head and she tries desperately to erase it. To no avail; she can't stop thinking of fucking him. Dammit. "Yeah," she murmurs meekly.

"You okay, Beesly?"

"Yeah!" The word escapes quickly and a little too loudly from her mouth. "No, I mean yeah."

He gives her a quizzical grin. She looks as if she wants to say something, but nothing appears to be coming out, so she takes a drink of her latte. And for awhile they just sit there, drinking, each trying desperately to think of something clever or interesting or really anything to say. Pam finally comes up with "I've been taking some art classes."

Jim puts down his coffee to respond, and says warmly, "That's really great. I mean really, I don't think you should ever give up on this."

A light tingling rushes through her body. "You remember Take Your Daughter To Work Day last year?" she asks unexpectedly. He mutters a confused 'yeah'. "I swear this is related," she quickly adds. "Kevin's... whatever she was, fiancee's daughter, told me she wanted to be an artist when she grew up. And I told her 'me too', and she said I was grown up. I know it's stupid, but I kind of lost faith after that. I mean I already kind of had, but then whenever I thought about trying again, that silly comment just popped into my head and I couldn't help thinking that it was just too late. So I'm really... glad you said that, I guess." She pauses. "I don't know why I just said that." A nervous laugh punctuates her words.

"I didn't know that," is all Jim can think to say. His eyebrows furrow a bit and he adds, "It's never too late." He sure hopes not, anyway.

"It isn't," she replies simply.

He doesn't quite no what to say, and so takes another sip of coffee. He realizes it's almost gone and frowns. How did he get through it so quickly? He's getting a little antsy, and he knows it's not the caffeine. She's made several quite suggestive remarks so far, and he's wondering how far too read into them. It was his intention to be open and responsive, but not make any moves. If she does, he is sure as hell going to respond, but he can't risk ruining this again. He's fighting the urge to tell her how beautiful she looks, or maybe to even tell her he still loves her. Something, anything that might lead to touching her, because she's just so damn irresistible.

Before he says anything, she asks him where he's living now. Is he back with Mark?  Did he find a new place? The question seems innocent enough.

"I actually got my own apartment," he replies casually. "Figured it was time to grow up. Plus Mark's been pretty serious with his girlfriend and I didn't really want to be in the way of that."

"Oh," is all she says.

"Yeah, it's just a studio apartment. It's in this really old building though; it's pretty cool. I don't really have that much stuff so I filled it up pretty easily." He shrugs.

"Is it the building on 7th?" she asks. "The one with the big tree in the front?" He nods. "I totally looked at that place! They had a couple rooms available, but I was afraid of the year lease. At that point I still didn't know what I was doing with my life. That's a really nice building, though."

"You didn't think you'd be here a year?"

"Well, I don't know." She's a bit flustered. "I thought maybe I'd end up back with Roy, or that I'd quit my job and take that internship in New York... Jan said it was too late for that, though. Or maybe I'd go to Europe..."

"Why didn't you?" he asks genuinely.

She's blushing, because the answer is twofold. "I was afraid," she says honestly. "I am afraid. I'm not the kind of person to just go off and do something like that. I want to, but... I don't know, I guess I'm not brave enough..." She neglects to mention the second reason, which was that she hoped it wasn't too late for her and Jim, but that it probably would be if he wanted her again and she was off across an ocean.

"Don't say that," he says seriously. He knows she can be too passive, but she's not a coward. If she were, well, she'd probably be married to Roy, for one.

"I don't know. If I were braver maybe I'd have more of things I want. Because it's not like I haven't had the opportunities..." She pauses, thoughtful. "Jan once told me 'there's always a million reasons not to do something'."

"It's sound reasoning," he comments, a bit distant. Because there are a million reasons they aren't together when he knows they should be. He isn't holding out for a happy ending, but it just seems so possible. Maybe he should make a move. But... maybe he shouldn't. Maybe not yet. Let them stick to easier topics for awhile.

As if reading his mind, she asks, "So didn't we come here to talk about all I missed while you were in Stamford?" He smiles, and they're able to chat easily for quite some time.

"Well you missed quite a lot Beesly, let me tell you. Working 9-5 at a mid-range paper supply company in a town where I don't know anyone, it's a pretty exciting life." She lights up with a giggle and he's pleased he can still make her laugh. "Obviously I've missed a lot. You trying pranks on your own, Angela and Dwight an item-- what next?"

Her sweet smile leads them into easy conversation, and it's an hour later before they realize they finished their coffee some time ago... in fact, they're the only ones left now. "It looks like they're starting to close up," Pam comments, looking at an old man sweeping behind the counter.

"Yeah. We should probably get going."

They pay, excusing themselves for staying too long, and head back to Pam's car. She remarks that there's a full moon and that she wishes she could capture that beauty in a painting. He says he believes she can, and that she should stop saying she can't. She looks at him while he stares happily into the sky and really, really wants to kiss him, but doesn't. She's not that bold just yet. Maybe soon.

They're headed in the general direction of the office and Pam is practically in hysterics over a comment Jim has made, and frankly it's making it very difficult to drive. "You better shut up or we're going to crash to our violent deaths and then what?" Jim smiles and then laughs out a 'huh'. "What?" she questions.

"Oh, that just reminded me of a song. Part of a song. It's nothing." He shrugs nervously, hoping this won't lead to further questioning... although maybe secretly hoping it will.

"What song?" she asks. He doesn't respond, adding to her curiosity. "C'mon, tell me or I will crash!"

"If you killed us you'd never find out."

"Not kill, just injure. And then in your pain-induced state I'd force it out of you." Too cruel, she thinks. She'd never really be able to do something like that.

"Well I wouldn't want that, Beesly. But I don't think you're that mean anyway."

"I'm not, but will you please just tell me? I am practically dying of curiosity."

"Okay, well I don't want any dying," he says warmly. "Fine. It's sounds like kind of creepy and I don't mean it literally," he explains slightly nervously. "But I was thinking of the song There Is A Light That Never Goes Out." He flinches, wondering if she knows it. Her flustered expression tells him she does.

"The I-haven't-got-a-home part or the It-would-be-heavenly-to-die-in-a-car-crash-with-you part?" she asks timidly.

"I don't really think the first one's relevant," he manages to remark, trying to keep things lighthearted. "I didn't peg you for a Smiths fan, Beesly."

"Oh, I only got into them recently..." Her voice is trembling, trying to remain calm. Her knuckles are white as she grips the steering wheel and sees the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot in the distance. "You want to just come over to my place?" she asks without thinking and immediately regrets it. "Sorry, I mean..."

"Yeah," he interrupts, finally looking at her.

She smiles earnestly and murmurs, "Okay."

They're silent for the rest of the drive.

Pam lets out a heavy breath as they pull into a space outside her apartment. "I know it's not like the best apartment complex," she remarks nervously. "It was the right price and close to work and--"

"You don't need to apologize for where you live," Jim replies. Nervous laughter fills the car, followed by silence.

"Um, should we go inside?" Pam finally asks, her hands still holding the steering wheel in a death grip. He nods and tries to smile. Her lips move to say something, but instead she just opens the car door. The walk up to her apartment is quiet until she announces their arrival. "Number 316, that's me!" she proclaims a bit too loudly.

Jim would tease her if he wasn't so nervous himself, and instead responds with an enthusiastic, "That's you!" She's still fiddling with the key when they break into awkward laughter.

"The key's a bit tricky," she explains.

"Ah," he replies.

When it's finally open, she moves to let him in, but he doesn't budge. "I always thought it was ladies first," he remarks.

"Well, you're the guest."

"But you're the lady," he insists. "What kind of gentleman would I be to go in first?"

"Uh... no kind at all, I guess," she replies, her face a bit contorted. She takes a step inside and heads for the kitchen. "Do you want--" she was going to say 'some coffee' and thankfully stops herself, "to sit down?"

He nods and follows her to a slightly worn davenport. She lets out an exasperated gasp as she plops herself down. He seats himself beside her, just far enough that their bodies do not touch. "I'm warning you, Beesly, I'm going to be off the walls pretty soon. It always takes a while for sugar and caffeine to start affecting me. So I hope you're prepared." It seemed a safe enough comment and it brings a delicate smile to her lips.

"Don't worry, I used to babysit all the time," she kids.

He raises an eyebrow. "Calling me a child, nice."

"Hey, you're the one who mentioned 'sugar' and 'off the walls'." Her mind quickly turns those words into 'against the wall', and she's picturing herself in such a position. It doesn't take much for her thoughts to turn to such things. A sly smile spreads across her lips.

"What's that suspicious look for?" he asks, turning toward her.

"Nothing," she quickly replies. "Should I put on some music?" She's up before he can respond, eager to distract herself. Because even though they are in her apartment, she doesn't want to be presumptuous. Her iPod's attached to the stereo and she has to think fast for something that will prove she has decent taste without being pretentious and set the mood without being obvious. Something not too distracting, either. She settles on Cat Power, but thinks there has to be something better on there. "Is this okay?" she asks nervously.

He withholds a comment about hoping for Barry White. "Are you trying to prove your cred, Beesly?"

"I don't know about 'cred', but us artsy types have to listen to at least somewhat obscure music, right? I'm pretty sure you learn in Art 101 to never, ever admit to liking Coldplay."

"Hey, I like Coldplay, " he replies, feigning offense.

She giggles as she says, "I know you hate Coldplay."

"I don't hate Coldplay," he says defensively, "their music just all sounds kind of the same. But they have some good tunes. You know."

"And Christ Martin named his kid 'Apple'. And I know for a fact you hate pretentious celebrity baby names."

"Now that," he admits, "is very true." He's leaning in more closely now. "Jermajesty? I mean what the hell is that?"

"It's classy. Almost as classy as Pilot Inspektor."

Jim visibly shudders. "I always liked the name Samuel," he muses.

She makes a face. "Samuel? Little Sammy? I would never name a kid anything that could end in -ammy. Not after years of Pammy, believe me."

"Okay, well, what names do you like? You got something better?" He tries to ignore the fact that he's discussing baby names with her.

"For a girl, Mildred," she says very seriously.

"Mildred?"

"Yes." Her attempts to keep a straight face are quickly failing. "Okay," she confesses, "I admit that that's actually Angela's favorite name."

"It would be," he laughs. "Can you imagine Angela having a kid? With Dwight? Little Mildred Schrute?"

Pam gasps and exclaims, "That poor child!"

"You seem genuinely concerned," he remarks, slightly shocked.

"I am!" she proclaims. "How could I not be? Can you imagine? The strict Christian upbringing on a beet farm with lots and lots of cats? You know the kid would have no sense of humor, either."

Jim carefully considers the possibilities and decides it's too much. "You're right, that's horrifying. Absolutely terrifying, and I hope that if it's ever a reality, the kid at least has some sort of cool uncle."

"Maybe we should befriend them just in case and then we can babysit. Try to instill a little sanity into the poor child."

Jim smiles at her use of the word 'we', despite the context. "Yeah," he adds, a bit distracted and looking at his lap. "What are we doing?" he asks, shifting his gaze to her.

She's perched with an elbow on the couch, fully open towards him, her smile fading with growing anxiety. She doesn't reply immediately, and instead takes his hand in hers and softly rubs her thumb across it. "I don't know," she says cautiously. He can see her chest rise and fall with every breath. She thinks this would be a perfect time for Sea Of Love to start playing, but remembers they've still got quite a few songs to go.

"It's getting kind of late," he says absently, still looking at her.

"Oh, did you want to--"

"No."

"Okay."

They sit silently for a bit, until eventually Pam's head is on Jim's shoulder, and they're just there, quiet, breathing, his hand still in hers. It's relaxing, in a way, just listening to music and being together, despite the tension. Pam takes an especially deep breath and hums as she lets it out. They're listening to Salty Dog now, the delicate notes filling the room, sending a chill down her spine. She knows Sea Of Love is up next and she shudders slightly when the pause comes between the songs.

The first few chords play, and she snakes her hand further up his arm.

Come with me, my love,

Her hand reaches to pull his face to hers.

to the sea, the sea of love.

Her breath is unbearably shaky.

I want to tell you

He brings a trembling hand to her arm.

how much I love you.

And the other to her face.

Do you remember when we met?

Her breath catches.

First day, I knew you were my pet.

A finger to her lips.

I want to tell you,

A small gasp.

how much I love you.