“Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City?” came blaring out of the ipod dock. Pam giggled.

“What?” asked Jim.

“Nothing…It’s just…seriously Jim?”

“What?” Jim asked again

“This song is so cheesy; I can’t believe you have it on your ipod!”

“It is not cheesy!” Jim protested. “Plus it was the free download of the week!”

“Excuses, excuses.”

“I’m not making excuses; there is no reason for me to be making excuses.” Jim replied as he flipped over the grilled cheese sandwich he was making.

Pam laughed a little and went back to concentrating on her sketches.

Jim had brought home the sketch book for her the day before and it was already half full.

She had drawn pictures of him (lots of pictures of him) and tons of landscapes. There were mountains, forests (pictured both in the fall and the spring), and beaches (some obviously in the Caribbean with their white sand and some with boardwalks and tons of people) . There were cityscapes, of places she’d been-like New York and places she hoped to go one day-like Paris.

She and Jim always talked about traveling.

“I’ll take you there one day-I promise,” he told her every time she brought up one of the many places she’d always wanted to go.

When she used to tell Roy about places she wanted to go he’d always say, “But Pammy, that’s so expensive, what about camping? That’s traveling.”

She’d always go with him even though she hated it more than she could explain.

For a little while she’d enjoy it. Setting the campsite up, building a fire, making s’mores, cuddling up in a sleeping bag. Then things went downhill. Roy always wanted to spend the entire day fishing. A little bit of fishing she could handle but sitting on a rock for 10 hours was not her idea of fun. At least it gave her time to draw everything around her. Then she’d feel gross and all she wanted was a shower, sweat pants, and her clean bed. Instead she had to take a shower with her flip-flops on and climb in a tiny tent.

Jim singing the end of the song snapped Pam out of the awful memory.

She looked over to see Jim starting at her.

“Huh?” she said, still thinking about how much she hated camping.

“Lunch’s ready.” Jim said. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She was still in a bit of a daze. “Jim?”

“Yeah?” he said, handing her a plate with her grilled cheese.

“You know how you always say one day we’ll travel, like to France and Italy and all that?”

“Yeah,” He smiled and took hold of her hand.

“Do you really mean that?” She almost looked like she was going to cry.

“Of course I do. I mean, when we have the money and the time and don’t have to worry about work…” He rubbed her hand. “Beasley, are you doubting me?” He chuckled at the thought.

“No, I was just thinking, that’s all.” She reached over and kissed him.

She took a bite of her sandwich and smiled at him. He gave her a confused look and started on his lunch.

The next song shuffled onto his ipod

“Ooh I hear laughter in the rain, walking hand in hand with the one I love”

Pam burst into laughter.

“What? That is a classic! Neil Sedaka is a genius!” Jim protested

Pam loved days like this. Days when she and Jim laid around and did nothing. Days when they never left whoever’s place they were spending time at. Days when they didn’t have to listen to whatever ridiculous thing Michael or Dwight had to say. They usually had those days on weekends but that Friday they both called in sick.

“Uh, yeah Michael, it’s a very serious illness. Yeah, we should be fine on Monday but we’ll, uh, let you know.” Jim had to use every bit of self control to keep himself from laughing especially considering the fact that Pam was giggling into his chest.

The night before had been spent eating Chinese food and watching movies and so far today had consisted of breakfast in bed (courtesy of Chef Jim) and not much else.

Pam went into her bedroom closet and pulled out her favorite sketch book. She returned to the living room to find Jim lying on her couch flipping channels. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was. She loved all the little things-the way Jim always gave her the first plate of eggs, the way he asked for her input on everything no matter how silly it was, the way he looked at her.

When she looked up again, Jim had settled on Sports Center and looked engrossed in the previous night’s baseball scores. Pam smiled to herself and sat down in the chair across the room. He looked up at her and smiled.

“Something you wanna watch?” He asked her.

That was one of the little things. She always had to ask Roy to let her watch something and most of the time he told her he was there first and she should go watch it on the (much smaller) bedroom TV. Jim would never do that and Pam truly appreciated it. Most of the time they agreed on what to watch anyway but she was always happy to let him watch a baseball game or some action movie whenever he found one of them.

“No, no, go ahead, I’m just gonna draw a little.”

She opened her book and he went back to his Sports Center. She flipped through the older pictures. Each piece of art brought back another memory. There was a sketch she did the morning after her first date with Jim, it was the restaurant where they’d spent nearly five hours talking and figuring things out and trying to get back to where they used to be. The next was a drawing she’d done after their first night together. She woke up, slowly pulled herself away from him, threw on Jim’s tshirt, and sat on the other side of the room and drew him still sleeping. She flipped through the many drawings (a few more related to Jim, a few landscapes, and a couple from work) to find a blank page.

Pam looked back to the couch. Jim had fallen asleep. She began drawing his long, lanky body on her small couch.

Pam became so engrossed in her drawing that she didn’t even realize her subject was now standing behind her. She felt Jim’s large hands on her shoulders and jumped.

“Hey,” he said, “Want some lunch?”

“Sure,” she replied closing her book.

“Was that me?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“Uh, yeah.”

“So we need to fix that.”

“Fix what?”

“This, uh, problem you have with letting me see your art.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know, I feel like if I showed you and you didn’t like it you’d have to lie to me and I just-I don’t want things to go that way.”

“Pam, listen to me. You don’t have to worry about it-I always like everything you do.”

“Jim don’t...”

“Pam, I’m serious. Now how about some grilled cheese?” Jim leaned down and kissed her.

“I love you, ya know?”

“I know.” He said, smilling at her.