Pam knew things were different the minute she walked into the office to start the day. Jim's post-Stamford desk was gone - completely gone. The boxes that had been stacked along the far wall had been returned to their previous spot in front of Dwight's desk, and Jim was sitting at his original desk, the sight line from his face to hers once again clear. He was finally back in his old place.

"Good Morning, Pam," he smiled, as if it were just another regular day.

"Good Morning, Jim," she smiled back. She could tell he was waiting for her to comment on the changes, so she decided to pretend she hadn't noticed. She sat down at her desk, and flipped her computer on. She looked up while she waited, her eyes falling naturally to where Jim's neck was. Or rather, where it had been for the last six months. She glanced over to where he was now, and saw him grinning at her. He'd caught her mistake, and she glanced quickly down at her desk, slightly embarrassed as she realized he now had proof of just how automatic looking over at him had been all these months.

He got up and walked over to her desk. As he leaned over to place a bag of jelly beans in front of her, she noticed that his sleeves were cuffed up. She gave him a look that said she noticed, but her words said other things.

"What are these?"

"Jelly beans."

"I can see that. Why are you giving them to me?"

"It's a new mix - all the tropical flavors. I found them at the store this morning and figured you probably could use a fresh supply." Jim picked out a few from the bag as soon as Pam had opened it. "You'll be happy to discover that I think margarita is one of the flavors in there."

"Oh good. I like to mix the watermelon ones with the margarita ones." She grinned up at him. "Thanks. This bag should probably last quite a while."

"I wouldn't be so certain," he said, reaching in the bag for a handful. "I woke up this morning with a craving for sweets that I haven't had in a long time."

Pam stood up and emptied the candy jar of the current regular jelly beans and then filled them with the new tropical Jelly Bellies. Jim took a few more from the container, and continued to stand at Pam's desk. He greeted Kevin and Oscar as they came in, and Toby when he arrived five minutes later.

"I guess I should get back to work," Jim finally said.

"That's kind of why you're here," she replied, teasingly.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed as he turned to walk away.

"Hey," she called. He turned around and she gestured him back over. "You know, I just noticed something."

He walked back, looking very pleased. "What have you noticed?"

"If you would let your hair grow a bit longer and gained about ten pounds, you'd be a dead ringer for a guy I used to know."

Jim raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," Pam grinned.

"Was he cute?"

"Adorkable."

"Nice," he replied, then did a double take. "Did you just say a-dork-able?"

"I did," Pam giggled.

"Do I want to know what that means...?"

"Just what it sounds like - adorable but a complete dork. Adorkable."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

They shared another smile and Jim finally sat back down at his desk, still shaking his head.

 

It was exactly noon when Jim made his fifth visit to Pam's desk. "Ready for lunch?"

Pam glanced at her watch. "I don't usually eat this early."

"Since when? We always eat at noon."

"No, you always eat at noon," she replied. "I started eating later when you came back from Stamford."

"Oh, right," Jim said, his expression fallen. "I guess I had noticed that."

Pam just nodded, unsure of what to say next. She didn't want to make him feel guilty now because she couldn't bear to watch him eat lunch with Her then. Besides, Karen was gone now. She took a deep breath and gave him a smile. "I guess I could be talked into going back to early lunches," she mused aloud. "If I had the right dining companion."

Jim's whole demeanor came back to life. "Well, I have someone in mind that I am sure you are just going to love."

 

As they settled into their chairs at the back table, Jim presented Pam with a coke, even going so far as to open it for her.

"Wow, thanks," she enthused. "I could get used to this."

Jim opened his grape soda and took a swig. "I have something I want to discuss with you," he said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket.

"Oh?" Pam asked. "That sounds serious."

"It is," Jim nodded. "I just don't want any misunderstandings later."

Pam sat up straighter. She thought he was teasing her, but his tone was so serious she couldn't be one hundred per cent sure. "Okay," she said softly. Jim unfolded his paper and smoothed it out on the table.

"I've noticed since my return from Stamford that some things have changed, and I'm not really sure why," he started, staring more at the paper than at her. "So this morning I made a list of a few things that are bugging me about you, and I hope you can tell me why things have changed."

Pam looked surprised, but nodded. "I'll try," she replied.

"Good," Jim said, the slightest of smiles starting to toy at the corners of his mouth. "First of all - what's with the yogurt?"

"Huh?"

"I noticed last week you were eating Key Lime Pie yogurt. And I know I've seen flavors like Chocolate Cherry and French Vanilla at your desk. What the hell happened to Mixed Berries?"

Pam was so relieved that it wasn't a serious question that she burst out laughing. She saw Jim was working very hard to stay serious, so she tried to follow his lead. "Um," she finally replied, biting her upper lip to calm her laughter. "I guess I just wanted to try other flavors. Make sure I wasn't missing out on anything."

"And were you?"

"I think I was. They've all tasted pretty good."

"So Mixed Berries is no longer your favorite?"

She remembered the time she found out that Jim had told the camera crew that Mixed Berries was her favorite yogurt flavor. "No, I wouldn't say that," she said. "I like the variety, but if I could only have one flavor, I'd definitely stick with Mixed Berries."

Jim nodded, as if she'd given the correct answer. "And where are your Keds?" He asked.

"It's been winter. I don't wear my Keds into the office in the winter. You know that."

"Well, the weather seems warm enough now for them." He stared at her pointedly.

"Duly noted," Pam smirked back. "I'll see what I can do."

"Good," Jim replied. "Those are Dundie-winning shoes."

Pam gave a surprised gasp. "It was you!"

"What?" He asked, his face a mask of innocence.

"You made Michael give me that award."

"You can't make Michael do anything, Pam. You of all people should know that."

"Well, it was definitely your strong influence."

Jim shrugged, "It was time for a new joke."

Pam put her hand in his. "Deep down, I always knew you had been behind it."

Jim smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "It was nothing."

"It was everything, Jim, and you know that. I should have thanked you then."

"You can thank me now," Jim leered playfully at her.

"We'll see," she laughed. "Is there anything else on that list?"

Jim smoothed the paper down again with his free hand. "Oh yes, definitely."

"What next?"

"Your hair."

"My hair? What about my hair?"

"Nothing, that's the point. When did YOU decide something was wrong with it?"

"I haven't." Pam was thoroughly confused.

"Then what's with all the different hairstyles you seem to be wearing these days?"

"I wear it pretty much the same way I always have -" Pam began, then realized what he was talking about. "I just like to straighten out the frizziness sometimes, or straighten it and then put in softer curls. Don't you like it that way?"

"No - I mean, yes - it looks nice that way, it's different. But I guess I'm just used to you as you normally are. I'd be happy if you never felt the need to do anything different with it."

Pam grinned. "Well, I can assure you that I do feel the need to do different things with it, so I'm afraid you are going to have to deal with that one."

"Fair enough," he nodded. "I just wanted you to know."

"Thanks," she replied. "Kelly really opened my eyes this past year to the possibilities. So you can take that complaint to her."

"And speaking of Kelly," he said, "we come to my final topic."

"I thought you liked Kelly," Pam replied, wondering what his problem was.

"I do like Kelly. I'm not so fond of her enthusiasm for setting you up on dates."

Pam giggled. "Well, her record hasn't been very impressive, so you really don't have to worry about that. I'd be surprised if she ever picked out a guy I could actually like."

"All the same, I would really appreciate if you'd no longer suggest to her that you need a boyfriend, or that you want to go out on a date, or be hooked up with somebody, or any variation thereof."

"And your objection to this is?" Pam tilted her head and grinned up at him, so happy that they could so easily tease each other and play like this, even as their relationship was changing before their very eyes.

He squeezed her hand again. "My objection is that you are already spoken for."

"Good reason," she agreed, leaning in to meet him halfway for a kiss. "I'll be sure to tell Kelly immediately."

 

It was a particularly trying day for Pam, even for a Monday. Michael started off the day in rare form and continued to call Pam into his office repeatedly over the course of the morning. Jim finally intervened and pulled her into the break room fifteen minutes before lunch, as a precautionary tactic.

"Just sit here and relax, and I'll get our lunches," he told her. "If Michael doesn't see you at your desk, he'll probably forget what he was going to ask you to do."

"Thanks," Pam sighed resting her head on the table. "I cannot take one more minute of his droning on about whether it's too late to take back his offer to let Jan move in."

She felt a little better as Jim arranged their lunches and drinks before her, and slid his chair next to hers. He rubbed her back gently as she drank her coke, resulting in the first real smile from Pam all morning. "That feels wonderful," she said. "So thank you once again."

"It's all part of the service," he grinned back. "So what do you say we go catch a movie after work?"

"If I live that long," Pam said. "Right now I just want to go home and crawl under the blankets and make the world go away."

"Oh come on. We'll have fun - it will make you forget today." He leaned toward her, as if about to say something incredibly important. "I'll even let you choose the film."

"Hmm," she said, suddenly looking more interested in the idea. "Any film I want?"

"Any," he nodded.

"Even a chick flick?"

Jim winced. "Yes, if we must."

"Wow, what a sacrifice." Pam giggled at his reaction. "I don't even know what's playing."

"Well, the offer still stands. You can check the listings and let me know what I'm in for."

Pam took a bite of her sandwich and mulled it over. "I guess I should take you up on it then. Who knows how long I have before the honeymoon's over."

Jim slouched back in his chair, his arm still resting on the back of Pam's chair. "True," he chuckled. "It has already been three days. My generous spirit won't hold out much longer."

The afternoon wasn't turning out much better, even with the enticement of an evening together with Jim to look forward to. Things took a particular turn for the awkward when Karen arrived at around three o'clock to clean out her desk. She had made arrangements to transfer to Albany until a position in corporate opened up that was suited to her skills. Karen made it clear with her silence that she had no desire to stay in Scranton a minute longer than she had to.

What she lacked in verbal expression she more than made up for with her abundance of dark looks, and Pam felt that most of them were directly solely at her. A short time after Karen's arrival, Jim got up and headed to Pam's desk, seemingly oblivious to Karen.

"So what are we going to see tonight?"

"I haven't even looked yet, I'm afraid," Pam confessed. "Between typing up these idiotic memos for Michael and death threats from Karen, I'm having a hard time focusing on doing much else."

"What death threats?" Jim frowned.

"Not actual death threats," Pam replied, unable to prevent a giggle from escaping. "But every time I look up she's giving me a dirty look."

"Don't worry about it. You haven't done anything wrong."

"Really? I think she begs to differ." She knew Karen was watching them, and it made Pam uncomfortable. "Maybe you should go back to your desk. I really don't want her to think I'm flaunting what's happened in front of her."

Jim gave her a half-smile. "You aren't. You don't have it in you to be like that."

"Oh yes I do," she chuckled. "But it's not what I'm going for now." She added in a quieter voice, "It's enough for me that I have you back."

Jim's smile widened at her comment. "Do you want me to go talk to her?"

"If I thought it would make any difference," Pam sighed, "but it won't. And I really don't want to see her start yelling at you. But thanks."

"There's got to be something I can do to cheer you up," Jim persisted, reaching for a few jellybeans.

"Just go sit back down and lie low until she leaves," Pam said softly. "Go lose yourself in your alternative-indie iPod stuff. Or whatever it is that you listen to now."

Jim stared at her for a moment as if lost in thought, then nodded slowly and went back to his desk.

Karen boxed up her things, then met with Michael and Toby in the conference room until shortly before four o'clock. She made a bee-line for the door immediately afterwards, bumping her box into the back of Jim's head as she passed his desk, and leaving Pam with a final look that seemed a careful mix of betrayal, hurt, and anger - just the look to bring out Pam's instinctive feelings of guilt. Fortunately being in a closed room with two of his least favorite people caused Michael to flee the office shortly after Karen. Pam gave Jim such a look of relief when Michael left that Jim got up to go congratulate her on surviving.

"Now that Michael's gone," he smiled. "What do you say we sneak out of her a little early - maybe get a bite to eat before the movie?"

"I don't know," she replied, shaking her head. "I appreciate your efforts but I am really worn out after today. I'm afraid I'm just not going to be a very good date tonight." Jim gave her his best pleading, puppy-dog-eyed look, but she still said no. "Tomorrow," she promised.

Jim stood up straight and drummed his fingers on the counter. "Well, I guess you give me no choice then, Beesly. I was going to save it for tonight, but it appears there will be no tonight."

"What are you talking about?"

"Meet me in the break room," he replied, and walked back to his desk. He opened one of his desk drawers and headed back to the break room without looking back at Pam. Curious, she followed him.

Jim was standing in the break room, leaning against the back wall. His hands were in his pockets, and he smiled slightly when Pam walked in. "So what's this all about?" She asked, leaning back on the table closest to Jim.

"Remember how we used to try and out do each other with CD mixes?" He asked.

Pam laughed. "You mean, which one of us could find the weirdest band that we liked?"

Jim nodded. "You did pretty well for someone without an iPod."

"Well thanks, but I still don't have one. I have that NonPod Roy gave me a few Christmases ago, but I haven't been using it much because it's a pain to get music for it."

Jim pulled his hand out of his pocket and extended it to Pam. "Well, you do now," he said softly.

Pam took the slim white player out of his hand, immediately recognizing it as his. "This is yours," she said, slightly confused. "What are you going to listen with?"

Jim shrugged. "I bought one of the new video ones back in January. This one has just been sitting in my desk. I don't really have use for two iPods, so I thought you'd like to have it."

"Are you sure? I mean, even the older ones aren't cheap. You could sell it - "

"Pam," he interuppted her. "I want you to have it."

"Wow." Pam replied softly. "That's - that's really nice of you, Jim. Thank you." She reached up for a hug, and he quickly put his arms around her to keep her close to him.

"I thought it might make the day a little more bearable if you could listen to music when Michael was getting to you," he said as he enjoyed the feeling of her in his arms.

Pam nodded, finally pulling back. "You're going to have to show me how to use iTunes with this."

"Sure," he nodded, one arm still wrapped around her waist. "But for now there's already a decent selection of music on it you might like to listen to."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I put all my favorites that I discovered over the last year," he said, looking a little embarrassed. "You know, since we weren't exactly sharing music tips."

Pam smiled broadly. "That was a brilliant idea! Thank you." She hugged him again, this time following it with tentative but heartfelt kiss. "I'll have to make a list for you of the songs I'd been listening to all this time."

"I'd like that," he nodded. "And if it's okay with you, I was thinking that maybe we could just share my iTunes accounts so we only had to buys songs once. Then we could share them between both iPods."

"We can do that?"

"I think so," he replied. "We'll work something out."

Pam stared down at her new (his old) iPod. In a matter of days, they were already reconnecting on so many levels. "This is awesome," she said to no one in particular.

"Feel well enough for a movie then?"

She grinned up at him. "So well in fact that I might even let you pick the film."

 

 

Pain. It was the only thing Pam was conscious of as she stumbled into the bathroom, her stomach heaving. She'd suffered a few migraines over the past months, but she could already tell this one was going to be a doozy. Not a good way to start the day. Not a good way at all.

She noticed it was still hours away from her morning alarm by the time she made it back to bed. She tried to find a comfortable position in hopes of feeling better when it was time to get up, but it was not to be. She spent the time between her bed and the bathroom, and knew that there was no way she was going to be able to make it into work. At six o'clock she'd managed to locate her cell phone and bring it back to bed with her. At six-thirty she called the office and left a voicemail for Michael letting him know she wouldn't be in. She thought about calling Jim, but she didn't know if he would be awake yet. She'd call him later, she thought, when she didn't feel so much like death. She couldn't help but wish he was there, though. She hated having to suffer like that alone. She felt so helpless when she had migraines like these, and everything was such an effort. She didn't think she was in a position to ask him to help her, even if things were going so well between them. But she still couldn't help but want him there.

She drifted in and out of consciousness, exhaustion overtaking her between bouts of nausea. She awoke with a start at seven-thirty, which only made her head pound more. She finally gave in and called Jim.

“Hey, what's up?” Jim sounded almost abrasively cheerful at the moment.

“I feel like hell,” she complained. “I have a migraine, and I just wanted you to know that I'm not coming into work. I guess that prank's going to have to wait a day.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said, his voice immediately slipping lower. “I'll be over in a little bit. I'm nearly dressed.”

“No,” Pam replied. “You don't have to do that. I just didn't want you to worry when I didn't show up.”

“Too late for that,” he chuckled. “And I might actually be able to help. I'll see you in a few.”

Jim hung up the phone before Pam could protest again. She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. She knew she looked horrible, and it bothered her enough that she wished she could change, or at least brush her hair. But the thought of moving any more than she absolutely had to seemed like a feat of endurance she had no hopes of completing. She curled herself up into a ball, and accepted that she was going to completely gross him out. Well, it was nice while it lasted, she thought briefly, her pain-filled head coloring her mood fatalistic. It's shame we didn't get to the sex part before I scared him away.

Pam was slowly shuffling out of the bathroom when she heard the knock on her door. Head bowed, hair frizzed and haphazardly sticking out in all directions, and her oversized t-shirt so old and faded it wasn't even funny, Pam opened the door and stood back to let Jim in.

“Man, you do look like hell, Pam,” he said with a grin as she shut the door.

“Thanks,” she replied sourly, barely looking at him as she made her way to her bed. She knew he was just teasing her, but she felt so overwhelmed she wanted to cry. She would have, too, had it not hurt so much to do so. Instead she slid into bed and pulled the blanket up over her head. “You've had your peek at the freak show, so you can just let yourself out,” she said from under the covers.

Jim sat down on the side of the bed, and slowly pulled the comforter back. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, gentle affection obvious in his voice. “I shouldn't have said that. But it's definitely obvious you aren't well.”

Pam's hand was over her eyes, blocking the light that was peeking through the blinds. “I'll be fine,” she grumbled. “You really don't have to worry about me.”

“Well at least let me try and make you a little more comfortable, okay?”

Pam groaned and turned her face into the pillow a little more. “Good luck with that,” she murmured.

Jim smiled then stood up and looked around her room. “Where do you keep your bedsheets?”

“Hall closet,” Pam mumbled as she sat up, then hurried from her bed towards the bathroom. Jim frowned as he watched her, following behind. He pulled her hair gently back as she leaned over the toilet, and found an elastic band on the vanity to secure it loosely. He left to get the bedsheets and give her some privacy, and when Pam finally came back to bed her room was noticeably darker.

“What did you do?”

“I hung some sheets off your curtain rods to keep the light out. You really should invest in something other than facy lace sheers.” He walked over to her bed, and handed her a glass of water from the nightstand. “Here, I took the chance you might appreciate me bringing these.” He put two little pills in her hand.

“What are they?”

“They're for the nausea. It's Dramamine.”

“Oh,” she said, swallowing them with a small sip of water. She expected them to come right back up, but figured it didn't hurt to try.

“The good thing is that they'll probably make you sleepy, too.”

Pam eased herself slowly down. “That sounds good.”

Jim sat down on the bed. “Wait, I have something else for you” He produced two silver pouches from his messenger bag. He ripped them open, and took out what looked like gel patches. “Feeling cool can also help,” he told Pam as he peeled the backing off one of the patches. “These are kinda like gel ice packs. Even better than wet cloth - they stay where you put them and they don't make your pillow all wet.” He leaned over and placed on Pam's forehead, causing her to sigh audibly.

“Oh, that does feels nice,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Here, turn on your side. The other one goes on the back of your neck.”

“How do you know all this?”

“My mom used to get a lot of migraines when I was in high school. I spent a lot of time caring for her.” Jim smoothed the other gel patch against the back of her neck, then reached for Pam's hand and held it both of his. “I picked up a few tricks along the way, I guess.”

“I'm sorry to hear your mom suffered with them too.”

“Yeah, I know how much pain she was in, and I really hate thinking of you going through the same thing.”

Pam turned onto her side facing him. “I'll be okay,” she said softly, still holding on to his hand tightly.

“Do you get them a lot?” Jim asked. “I don't remember you having them before - before now.”

“Sometimes,” Pam replied. “They've been a little more frequent lately.”

They sat in silence for a little while, Pam's eyes closing in an attempt to fall back to sleep. Jim watched her briefly, then finally spoke again. “Do you know what's causing them? I mean, is there a pattern to them? Some women get them every month, you know, before - “

“Oooh,” Pam groaned loudly, surprising Jim. “We are so not having this conversation.”

Jim couldn't help but laugh. “I”m just saying that if it's hormone related, there are things you can do about them. I mean, some people take birth control pills to prevent them.”

“Thank you, doctor. It's not related.” Pam turned over, groaning. “I'm already on them anyway.”

“Oh.” Jim had no real response to this newly gleaned fact. “Um, okay then.”

“Anyway,” Pam continued, her back now facing him. “You probably should get to work. Thanks for coming over.”

“Yeah, you're probably right. But I'll be back in a few hours to check on you.”

“You don't have to.”

“Oh, but I do.” He stood up, then leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek.

He was walking out of her room when he turned back suddenly. “Hey, I know this probably sounds a little odd, but would you mind if I take your key with me? That way I don't have to wake you to open the door.”

“Purse on the table,” she replied. “Just don't give a copy to Dwight. Or Michael.”

“No promises,” Jim laughed. “And you'll call me if you need anything?”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled. The Dramamine was already starting to take effect, and Pam pulled the blanket up higher under her chin.

Pam rolled back to her left side, aware that while her head was still pounding, her stomach was not so bad. She opened her eyes and was surprised to find Jim sitting in a chair next to her bed. “Why are you still here?”

Jim smiled. “Still here? Pam, I left and came back already. How are you feeling?”

“My head still hurts but my stomach's better. What time is it?”

“About ten-thirty.”

“Oh, wow. That stuff must have knocked me out.”

“Good. You can take more every four to six hours, so take more at noon. It would probably be a good idea even if you don't feel nauseous, just to be safe.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Pam managed a small smile. “Whatever you say.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Jim grinned, leaning over to pull off the ice gel on her forehead. “Let's change these while I'm here.”

He placed a large glass of ice water on the table next to her bed, and told her that when she was better she was going to the doctor's to get some migraine medication for next time. “There's no need to suffer if you don't have to.”

“I know,” she admitted. “I just never thought about it until I needed it.”

“How have you managed to survive all this time on your own, Beesly?” He teased. “You clearly need someone looking after you.”

“Clearly,” she replied, running her fingers over the coolness of the gel patch on her forehead. “Thank god this didn't happen last Tuesday.”

“Exactly,” he said softly, his expression sad for the briefest of moments. He kissed her good-bye. “See you at lunch.”

Jim's lunchtime visit went unnoticed by Pam, who had taken the Dramamine earlier than advised and then promptly fell into a deep, deep sleep. Even when Jim placed a trail of kisses along the bridge of her nose she still didn't stir. He left her a note, and a fresh glass of water, and went back to work.

When Pam finally woke again, it was nearing two-thirty. She saw Jim's note and as she sat up to read it (a classic Jim stick figure holding flowers along with a scrawled message to “Be a good girl and drink your water”), she realized she was no longer in any real pain. She still felt tired, but no headache. She closed her eyes momentarily and thought how good not feeling pain could be. Then she reached for her cell phone.

“Hey there,” he said. “I was just about to come and see you. What do you need?”

“Nothing. I just thought you'd like to know what a wonderful doctor you are. My migraine appears to be gone.”

“Excellent - how do you feel?”

“Just a bit worn out, but that's usual.”

“So you don't need me to bring you anything right now?”

Pam thought he almost sounded let down. “Not right now,” she told him. “But if you feel up to it, you could come over after work and I'll treat you to a thank you meal for all your help.”

“Hmm...that sounds appealing. But you really should take it easy tonight.”

“Oh, I was going to. Pizza is just a phone call away.”

Jim laughed. “You've got a date then.”

“Thanks again, Jim. I really appreciate you coming over. It was nice to be looked after.” Pam let out a small laugh. “I'd almost forgotten what a mother hen you can be.”

“It's a skill I really only seem to put to use when I'm around you,” he replied. He paused for a moment then added, “It's nice to be needed, I think.”

“It is,” she agreed. “And it's really nice to have you back.”

“Good Morning, Dwight,” Pam smiled as he walked in.

“Pamela,” he nodded.

“Hey, Dwight,” Pam called, “Can I talk to you when you get a chance?” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “There's something I need to tell you.”

Dwight placed his briefcase on his desk. “Certainly. Meet me in the conference room.” He didn't notice the glance she gave to Jim, nor saw how their hands brushed together as she passed. Pam shut the door behind her, and closed the blinds.

“Even though you are no longer Regional Manager, I still feel like I should keep you informed of things I notice,” Pam said, her tone solemn.

“Thank you, Pam,” Dwight nodded. “I appreciate your loyalty. What is it?”

“I don't know if it means anything or not, but I thought you should know that I've noticed Andy Bernard taking an interest in your bobbleheads.”

“Interest how?”

“Well, the last couple of days I caught him staring at your desk whenever he was at the copier. Maybe I'm wrong, but it really looked like he was staring at your bobbleheads. Really focusing on them, if you get what I mean.”

“Damn him. What could he be up to?”

“I don't know. Is there anything you want me to do?”

Dwight thought a moment. “No, not yet. Just keep an eye on Andy Bernard.”

“Got it.” Pam opened the conference room door, and was about to walk back to her desk when she felt Dwight's hand on her shoulder. She turned around.

“You did the right thing coming to me with this, Pam.”

Pam nodded and held her smile in check as she headed into the kitchen, only to finally let out a giggle when Jim walked in moments later. “Step one complete,” she told him as she reached into the cabinet for a mug.

“Awesome. Though I am still a bit weirded out with how much he seems to trust you these days.”

Pam shrugged. “He's really not that bad, and you know it. I'm kinda glad we have a new target.”

 

“I don't know,” Jim replied. “I never thought I'd see the day I'd hear you say that. I hope you aren't going soft on me.”

“Never,” she grinned. “It's just that, well - he's actually been there over the past year. Been a friend to me. And don't think I don't know how strange that sounds.”

“Been there how?”

Pam paused. “I'll tell you some other time,” she finally said. “But let's face it, Andy deserves our attention more.”

Jim held the door as they walked out of the kitchen. “Yeah, let's see if we can get him thrown back into anger management.”

The morning passed almost painfully slow as they waited for Dwight to leave for his eleven o'clock appointment. Once gone, Jim put step two into action.

“Hey,” Jim said as he walked over to Andy's desk. “You up for hand delivering a paper order?”

Andy was soon dispatched from the office, and Pam made her way over to Dwight's desk, carefully plucking all four bobbleheads from his desk, and then hiding them carefully in the back of different drawers in Andy's desk. No one even looked up to see what she was doing, and she thought that sometimes the rampant apathy of their office was a good thing. Prank completed, she joined Jim in the break room for lunch.

“All set for the showdown?” Jim asked as he pushed her lunch toward her.

Pam's coke fizzed as she popped the ring. “Let the fireworks begin,” she smiled.

“Are they well hidden?”

“Hidden enough. I'm kind of hoping Dwight gets back first so he can stew on things for a while before Andy appears.”

“You are so good at this,” Jim laughed. “You don't even need my help anymore.”

“Not true. The payoff is in being able to enjoy the joke with someone.”

“Yes, I agree,” Jim nodded, nudging her hand with his. “And I now I've got my partner in crime back. I've never had a better one.”

Pam grinned, her cheeks tinged with pleasure from his compliment. “Well, I learned from the best.”

“Eh,” Jim shrugged, “You've always been good with the details. That's what sets apart a good prank from a great one.”

Pam put her hand over his. “Well, now we've got two people to drive crazy.” she mused. They continued eating in silence for a while, simply enjoying how good it felt to be together. Pam looked up and found Jim just staring at her.

“What?”

“So tell me, Beesly,” Jim said slowly, “How has Dwight been such a good friend?”

Her eyes dipped down to her remaining chips, and she chewed one carefully before replying. She should have known he wasn't going to give up on an answer. “Well, he helped me plan the bird funeral for a start.”

“The bird funeral? So Creed isn't completely out of his mind.”

“I wouldn't go that far,” she laughed. She then went on to describe the day Michael found out Ed Truck had died and how he vented it all through demanding a proper burial for a bird who died when he flew into one of the office windows.

“He blamed Toby for the bird's death, obviously.”

“Well, obviously,” he grinned. “But that's all it took for Dwight to move from the dark side?”

Pam really didn't want to tell him. They hadn't talked much about their experiences since his move to Stamford and back, and while she knew they would eventually, knew they should eventually, she didn't want to start right this moment. And she really didn't want to start that conversation by throwing out what was essentially one the lowest points for her while they were apart. But she had also promised herself that she wasn't going to jeopardize their new relationship by hiding her feelings or not being honest. She owed him that much.

“Did you know that Dwight carries an honest-to-goodness handkerchief in his pocket? Not tissues, a real handkerchief. Who does that anymore?”

“Dwight, apparently,” Jim replied. “He's your friend because he has a handkerchief?”

“He let me borrow it once,” she said, trying to think of a way to explain that wasn't going to involve making Jim feel badly. He looked at her expectantly, waiting for further details. “He found me crying one day, and he sat with me and tried to make me feel better. In his own twisted, Dwight way, of course.”

Jim ignored her attempts to lighten the story. “When was this?” She could hear the tension in his voice.

“Um, last inventory day.” She said. She saw something in his eyes change, a recognition of a memory, perhaps.

His eyes did not leave hers. “Why were you crying?”

She knew he at least had an inkling of why she'd been crying. “I was overwhelmed,” she sighed. “Earlier in the day I'd just advised the guy I loved to let his girlfriend move closer to him, when that was the last thing in the world I really wanted to happen. I was so tired of having to pretend it didn't matter to me.”

His hand tightened around hers. “Pam,” he said softly.

“It's okay,” she said, shaking her head. “You didn't know. It was my own fault for being afraid.”

“I should have known,” he said regretfully. “Did Dwight know why you were crying?”

Pam gave a short laugh. “No, not really. He thought I was PMSing.” This caused Jim to share in her laughter, until they heard a commotion in the main office.

“Sounds like Dwight's back,” Jim said as they stood up. As Pam headed for the door, Jim caught her arm and pulled her into a hug. “I'm sorry it was Dwight who found you like that,” he said, cupping her chin with his hand. “Actually what I'm really sorry for is that I've ever given you a reason to cry.”

“You keep talking like that and I'll start crying right now,” she chided him, hugging him back. “It's the past now. It's nothing you need to worry about.”

“I'm not convinced,” he replied. “There are some things I think we really need to talk about.”

Pam smiled slightly. “Are you sure you want another relationship where you have to do a lot of talking about it?”

“This is different. I want to talk to you. I like talking to you. Talking to you isn't a chore. Talking to you has never been hard.”

“Never?” Pam looked at him dubiously.

“Well, maybe about some things,” he admitted. “But not anymore. Not ever again.”

“I'm going to hold you to that.”

“Pam, the real reason things didn't work out until now is because we never really talked. Not about the important things.”

She nodded. “I know. I just want to be sure we're in a good place before we start dredging up painful memories.”

“I want to know what happened when we are apart. There are things I've wanted to tell you. And I think we are already in a good place. Don't you?”

“It's been less than a week, Jim,” she replied. “We haven't even -”

Jim couldn't help but grin. “Is that the line in the sand that puts us in a good place?”

“No,” she replied emphatically, “I'm just saying-”

“Because we could arrange for both tonight, if it will make you feel better.”

“Shut up,” she laughed, feeling herself blush.

“I'm just trying to be helpful.” He kissed her forehead. “Come over tonight.”

“Tonight?” She looked at surprised as she sounded.

“To talk,” he said, his fingers brushing through her hair. He raised his eyebrows. “Anything else is completely optional.”

“We're going to miss the results of our prank.” She started to pull him towards the door. “Let's see Dwight and Andy face off first.”

He dragged his feet. “Pam?”

She stopped. He was smiling, but she had no doubt he was serious in his request. “Yes, of course. Tonight.” She embraced him again, and pulled him down into a kiss. “And I'd definitely like to keep the options open.”

Jim leaned back in his chair as he saw her come in. “You're late, Beesly.”

Pam made an effort to ignore Jim as she walked behind her desk. Of course she was late. He of all people knew she would be late, and she couldn't believe he had just pointed it out to everyone in the office.

Dwight stood up. “Yes, you are late, Pam. Where have you been?”

“It's none of your business why I'm late, Dwight.”

“Yes it is, as second in command here -”

“You aren't second in command here,” she sighed, turning her monitor on. “Jim is.”

“Well, then you need to explain to Jim why you are late.” Dwight looked over to Jim, who nodded his approval. As Dwight sat back down, Jim stood up and walked over to Pam's desk.

“So, care to explain your tardiness?” He asked quietly, leaning over the counter.

“It was a personal matter,” she said primly. “Nothing to do with you.”

“Oh, really,” Jim grinned. “Nothing to do with me at all?”

“Nope.”

“Ah. Late night last night, perhaps?”

“Something like that.” Pam looked up at him and tried very hard not to smile. “More like late night carried into early morning.”

“Wow. Sounds like that must have been a good time.”

She shrugged. “It was okay.”

“Okay?” Jim leaned further over the counter. “Just okay?”

Pam grinned. “Why, what did you hear?”

“I heard an outstanding time was had by all.”

Pam laughed. “We can't possibly be talking about the same thing then.”

Jim pulled himself upright. “That's not what you were saying earlier.”

“Shut up,” she whispered. “Go sit down before you get us in trouble.”

He grabbed a few jelly beans and leaned in again. “Not until you admit it.”

“Admit what?” she asked innocently.

“That last night was the best night ever.”

“The best night ever? Hmm....” she couldn't remember the last time she saw Jim so animated, and she couldn't help but keep teasing him. “Does that mean the best in terms of all that ever came before, or the best it's ever going to get?”

“The former, naturally,” he grinned.

“I think I could safely put it in the top five,” she replied.

“Top five? That's it? You wound me, Pam. You really do.”

“Go back to your desk. People are going to start talking.”

“Too late - they already are,” Jim replied, but he walked back to his desk anyway. Within the next minute Pam had an instant message.

jhalpert: Top Five? You are totally lying.

pbeesly: What? It's a compliment. You wouldn't put it in your top five?

jhalpert: I guess I just don't have your experience, Pam. I put it at #1.

pbeesly: You do need to get out more. ;-)

jhalpert: cruel. just cruel.

pbeesly: I know. ;-) I'm just teasing you for drawing attention to my lateness. That was so unfair, given it was your fault I was late!!

jhalpert: you were the one who insisted people would notice if you wore the same clothes two days in a row. If you listen to me next time you will get into work on time.

pbeesly: so there's going to be a next time?

jhalpert: absolutely.

jhalpert: How about tonight?

pbeesly: Let me check my social calendar.

pbeesly: yep. I'm free. :-)

jhalpert: glad to hear it. :-)

pbeesly: I thought you might be. So what's the plan then?

jhalpert: The plan?

pbeesly: You know - a movie or dinner or something?

jhalpert: Oh, I get it. You want the date part as well.

pbeesly: Um, yeah. :-P

jhalpert: Man, I thought we were past all that by now.

pbeesly: !! Jim, it's only been a week.

jhalpert: A week today, actually. Happy Anniversary. :-)

pbeesly: You're such a dork. :-)

jhalpert: Wow. No wonder no one thought we'd last this long.

pbeesly: Yeah, we sure proved them wrong.

jhalpert: So where should we go tonight?

pbeesly: I don't care.

jhalpert: You don't care? Then why are you the one making a big fuss about how we should do something other than just go right home to bed?

pbeesly: Just because I don't have a set idea about what we should do doesn't mean we shouldn't. Ordering chinese and watching a movie is fine.

jhalpert: Do you really want to do that, or do you just want people to think we are doing that? Because I'd be happy to just let it slip to Kelly that those are our plans....

pbeesly: Yes, I'd like to do that - wouldn't you?

jhalpert: I just think there will be plenty of other times to eat and watch movies.

pbeesly: And there won't be plenty of other times to have sex? (There, I said it!)

jhalpert: Maybe there will be, but why not do the most important stuff first? (Wow. How very liberated of you. Though technically you typed it - not said it. Different things entirely.)

pbeesly: I'm pretty sure eating is more important than having sex. At least in terms of staying alive. (Hey, at least I typed it. You're still just alluding to it. I never took you for a prude, Jim.)

jhalpert: You might be able to keep alive longer if you chose food over sex, but who wants that kind of life? Definitely not me. Definitely not after last night. (Do not raise that challenge unless you are serious, Beesly.)

pbeesly: What challenge, Senor Chicken?

Jim looked up from his monitor to see Pam's clearly defiant face smirking back at him. He shook his head at her, and didn't even try to hide his smile.

jhalpert: If you want to sit here and talk dirty all day, be my guest. Just don't be be embarrassed when I throw it right back at you.

pbeesly: You mean type dirty all day. ;-)

jhalpert: Whatever. You're the one who's going to be sitting up front blushing all day.

pbeesly: I doubt it. Besides, you'll be the one stuck at your desk all day.

jhalpert: What does that mean?

pbeesly: It's means I know what an excitable boy you are. ;-)

jhalpert: Nice. Is your mind always in the gutter?

pbeesly: Not a trait easily hidden, if you know what I mean.

jhalpert: And yet you've never caught me. So maybe I'm better at it than you think.

pbeesly: Wow. Is that a normal problem for you then?

jhalpert: There have been moments.

pbeesly: I always thought you were joking when you said you wanted to do Kevin.

jhalpert: Well, now you know.

pbeesly: Shut up. :-)

pbeesly: So are you now?

jhalpert: No!

pbeesly: Are you sure? You seem awfully defensive.

jhalpert: I'm not being defensive. It's a ridiculous question.

pbeesly: Really?

jhalpert: Really.

pbeesly: So chatting to me about erections doesn't turn you on?

jhalpert: Not when Kevin's name is mentioned at the same time, no. Sorry. You'll have to get your kicks elsewhere on that one.

pbeesly: So what would I have to say?

jhalpert: You're really trying to get me in trouble, aren't you?

pbeesly: What kind of trouble could you possibly get into? You are the master of discretion it would appear.

jhalpert: All we need is for Michael to read this chat and our lives at Dunder Mifflin would be over. He'd make us not only want to quit, but kill ourselves as well.

pbeesly: So when was the last time prior to this week you suffered that condition because of me?

jhalpert: Prior to this week? Are you assuming it happened to me this week?

pbeesly: Given last night, I'm going to go with a yes on that. ;-)

jhalpert: Okay, fair enough. ;-)

pbeesly: So when before that?

jhalpert: I don't know - I didn't write it in my date book!

pbeesly: But there were times?

jhalpert: Do I really need to dignify that with an answer? I've been watching you for years.

pbeesly: Okay - did it ever happen after you came back from Scranton?

jhalpert: Yes. And before you even ask, yes.

pbeesly: What was the second yes for?

jhalpert: You weren't going to follow up that question by asking if it happened more than once?

pbeesly: No, but now I'm wondering how many times more than once it was. ;-)

jhalpert: Enough that I should have come to my senses a lot sooner than I did.

pbeesly: Yeah, but I should have too.

jhalpert: This conversation is becoming definitely not sexy.

pbeesly: I know. What can I say? I'm seriously out of practice. :-(

jhalpert: You didn't do this with Roy?

pbeesly: Please. You know the answer to that. :-P

jhalpert: I know. Sorry, that was cheap shot. :-(

jhalpert: If it helps, Karen wasn't exactly a fun IM correspondent either.

pbeesly: No? I'm surprised.

jhalpert: No you aren't. :-)

pbeesly: Maybe. :-)

jhalpert: Yeah, I hardly used IM at all until this last week or so.

pbeesly: Wow. I wonder what changed.

jhalpert: I ran into an old friend. She's quite the talker.

pbeesly: Oh, that's good. Is she cute, too?

jhalpert: Nah, she's more hot than cute. Kevin would probably describe her as Seriously Hot.

pbeesly: How does Kevin keep sneaking into this conversation?

jhalpert: LOL - I have no idea.

pbeesly: Damn. Michael's about to come out of his office.

jhalpert: Okay - brace yourself. And erase this conversation. ;-)

The look on Michael's face told everyone that nothing good was going to happen.

“Okay, listen up, folks.” Michael said, clapping his hands together. “We've got a little program for you, so everybody into the conference room.” Jim and Pam exchanged eye rolls.

“What kind of little program?” Stanley asked.

“Just a little something that corporate sent us a few weeks ago.” Michael waved his hand dismissively. “We've got to get through it before the testing agent arrives.”

“Testing agent?” Jim asked.

“Yeah, they're sending down someone to give a stupid test so we can proved we watched the video. So let's get moving, folks.”

The true horror of the experience was made clear once everyone was corraled into the conference room. There was not just one video, but six. They were each thirty minutes long, and they each had to be watched in order to stand any chance of passing the test that was going to be administered that afternoon.

“Michael, how long have you had these videos?” Angela demanded.

“I don't remember,” he hedged. “Not that long.”

“They arrived last month, Michael,” Pam spoke up. “So now we have to sit here for three hours?”

“What if we fail this test?” Andy asked.

“Nobody's going to fail the test,” Michael replied. “Now let's just settle down and start watching. If you have to go to the bathroom, you better do it now.”

Jim reached into the cardboard box next to the television and read the accompanying letter. “Michael, this is an ethics course. It says here that if an employee doesn't pass, they can be put on unpaid leave until they do.”

“Shush,” Michael replied, clearly irritated. “Everyone's going to pass. Just sit down and we'll start this thing.”

Jim let the letter slip from his fingers and back into the box, and walked to the back of the room, slipping in the vacant seat next to Pam.

“Three hours of ethics videos?” He said scathingly. “I think Michael has really outdone himself this time.”

“And don't forget the test we'll get to take afterwards.”

“Hey Michael,” Jim spoke up, “I think we should at least get lunch for having to sit through all of this in one day.”

“We'll be breaking for lunch,” he nodded.

“No, I mean the company should pay for lunch.” A murmur of approval swept the conference room.

“Well sure, that's what I meant,” Michael smiled. “I look out for my family.”

The videos were worse than feared. Seriously dressed men and women explaining in painful detail each line of Dunder Mifflin's new ethics guidelines, and badly acted out examples of what was and was not acceptable behavior. The only thing that made the whole thing bearable to Pam was that she was sitting in a darkened room next to Jim, and for once she knew she could hold his hand if she wanted to.

They leaned against each other, whispering comments and pulling faces as they suffered together. When the second video was started Jim casually put his arm around the back of her chair. The only people who might have even cared, Angela and Dwight, were both sitting front and center, paying rapt attention to the ethics rules.

Pam enjoyed being so close to Jim, but after a while the monotony of the videos combined with the comforting warmth of his body made her want to fall asleep. She decided the only way to stay awake was to play a game. Given the new shift in their relationship, Pam decided to play a game they'd never played before. She started by resting her hand lightly against his thigh, which won a look of approval from Jim. But as they continued to sit there, Pam slowly inched her hand up his thigh. Then she moved inward. She was about to rest her hand firmly on his crotch when his hand grabbed her wrist and pushed it away. She looked up with a grin and found Jim giving her a warning look.

“What do you think you're doing?' He whispered in her ear.

“Just checking to make sure things were okay,” she replied, her eyes focused on the video.

“Right. Well, things are dead here. Trust me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I could check.”

“Don't.”

She could tell that he was trying very hard to stay serious. “Fine,” she sighed.

“Thank you.”

But shortly afterwards she tried again, and he caught her hand much sooner. The third time she tried she almost burst out laughing because he stuck her hand under his leg to keep her still.

There was a fifteen minute break after the third video, mostly due to the fact that people just got up en masse and walked out. Jim grabbed Pam's hand and led her to the break room. They took their time buying cokes and candy, but as soon as they were alone Jim turned his attention to her.

“So what exactly were you trying to accomplish in there?”

“Just trying to stay awake,” she grinned up at him.

“Trying to cause trouble is more like it.”

She laughed. “Jim, we're sitting in the back row of a darkened conference room watching instructional videos that are killing off brain cells by the second. I thought you'd be all for some distraction like that.”

“A distraction is one thing. You were just being a tease.”

Pam stood closer to him. “And you don't like me being a tease?”

“Not when I can't react appropriately, no.”

“And what would be an appropriate reaction?”

His hand came up and rested on her waist. “I will be more than happy to show you tonight,” he replied. “But how about we figure out a less provocative game for now, hmm?”

“If we must,” Pam sighed.

“Come on, we better get back.” He grabbed her hand as they walked to the door.

Pam stopped for a moment, and Jim turned to see that she was staring up at him.

“What?”

“I'd forgotten how much fun it could be to work here,” she said slowly.

“Did we start having fun yet?” Jim asked. “Because I'm pretty sure I missed it if we did.”

“I mean having you here to get me through the day, dork,” she said, bumping against him. “ I can even tolerate this damn ethics course because you are here. How did I manage without you?”

He smiled at her, and seeing no one around, leaned down and gave her a soft kiss. “The same pathetic way I didn't manage without you. But I'm back now.”

“Yeah, you are,” she grinned, “You're really, really back.”