Are you ready for the thing called love?

Don’t come from me and you, it comes from up above

I ain’t no porcupine, take off your kid gloves

Are you ready for it?

Under the light of the hallway, her hair shines gold and red and honey. 

“I had a really great time tonight.  I thought it was going to be…”

“Weird?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t.  Was it?  Was it weird for you?”

“Not at all.  I was nervous, though.”

“Really?  You didn’t seem nervous.”

“Yeah?  You did.”

“What?  Okay, maybe a little.”

“I’m really nervous now.  Wait…is nervous the right word?”

“Awkward is the right word.”

“Oh, thank you, Pam.  Thanks for that.”

“Do you want to come in?”

“Oh, yeah…well, no.  I’m not sure.”

“I can make coffee or something.”

“Coffee at 11:30?  Are you trying to keep me up all night, Beesly?”

“Maybe.”

“Wow.  You think I’m that easy?  This is our first date!”

“No, Jim, it’s the third date.  You were kind of my date at the Dundies, and then the roof thing…”

“I thought you said…”

“Well, I kind of lied about that.  It felt like a date.”

“Yeah.”

“So, third date.”

“I’d really, really love a cup of coffee.”

Give me one reason to stay here

And I’ll turn right back around

Give me one reason to stay here

And I’ll turn right back around

Said I don’t wanna leave you lonely

You gotta make me change my mind

“Jim, I have to go, really!”

He’s got his arms wrapped around her and they’re at the front door and he’s kissing her neck and squeezing her just a little too hard.

“You don’t have to go.”

“I do!  I promised my mom I’d help her with with this lunch thing.”

Now he’s trying to unbutton her shirt and she’s squirming to get away, but he’s still got one arm holding her tightly.

“Jim, stop!  My God!”

“God, it drives me crazy when you giggle like that.”

“I have to go!”

She’s pushing her hand against his chest and trying to clutch her shirt closed at the same time, but he’s too strong for her and he’s kissing down her neck into her open shirt, making loud, growling noises as he goes.

“Jim!  You’ve lost your mind!”

“It’s your fault!  Ah, you smell so good and your skin is so soft.”

He backs her up against the door and kisses her.  It starts urgently, hard, passionate, but stops and slows, lingers, eases carefully, his lips and tongue working her mouth and molding it to his.  Pam drops her hands limply and gives in to the kiss.  It’s too good, too much.

“Okay.  That’s all I wanted.  You have to go.  Go help your mom.”

Pam’s mouth is open and gasping for air.  She feels lightheaded and her ears are ringing. 

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Okay.”

Pam gets into her car and when she adjusts the rear view mirror she sees her lips, red, slightly puffy from his kiss and she traces them with her index finger.  He knows exactly how to kiss her.  To make her feel better, to stop her tears, to make her laugh, to say he loves her, and like today, to make her lose her mind, just a little. 

She looks at the front door and he’s still standing there, watching her, with an exaggerated pout on his face, shoulders slumped, trying his best to looks as pitiful as possible.  Then he breaks, smiles at her, waves, and mimes a passionate kiss at her.

In one move, she’s out of the car and nearly running to the front door, laughing at the surprised look on his face.  She places both hands on his chest and gently shoves him back into the house as he’s grinning at her, madly.

“Okay.  Fifteen minutes and that’s it, Halpert!  I swear!”

“I knew you couldn’t resist me!”

What in the world are you thinking of

Laughing in the face of love?

What on earth are you trying to do

It’s up to you, yeah you

The tone of the romance was set the very first night.  Jim had wanted everything to be perfect.  It was a night he had thought about and dreamt about forever and he was alternating between being a complete nervous wreck and talking himself down and trying to be cool.  Pam’s coming over for dinner.  I’m making dinner and Pam will be here and I think we both know what’s going to happen.

He’s trying to keep it simple.  Grilled steaks, Caesar salad, wine.  He can’t screw this up and there won’t be a mess in the kitchen and they can talk outside while he grills the steaks.  It’s going to be a gorgeous night and he has music ready and the apartment’s clean and tidy.  He’s even lit a few candles.  Flowers, he thinks.  I should have bought some flowers.  No, can’t worry about that now, she’ll be here in an hour and flowers might be trying too hard.  Relax, relax.  He decides to have a beer on the patio before he gets in the shower.

She’s probably getting ready right now.  What’s she thinking?  Is she nervous, excited, worried?  He’s surprised at how composed and confident she’s been since they’ve been dating, while he’s felt like an overgrown yellow Lab, all paws and eagerness and just plain goofy.  She really has changed and her quiet confidence has had an unsettling effect on him.  She makes him feel like he’s in junior high again, but tonight, it’s going to be different.  He’s on his own turf, preparing his best meal for his best girl.  Nothing can go wrong tonight.  It’ll be just like he’s imagined it a million times.

His hands are shaking when he shaves after his shower and he sets the razor down and braces himself on the counter.  Has a little talk with himself in the mirror. 

“For the love of God, Halpert, settle down.  You’ve done this before.  With great success, I might remind you.  And it’s Pam.  She’s crazy about you.  Yeah, but I don’t want to disappoint her.”

Don’t EVEN go there.  Don’t.  Shave, man.  Shave your face and get dressed.

And then she’s there and beautiful.  Her face is glowing and the air in the house just gets amped up to crackling hot.  She brings cheesecake for dessert and her hair is curled softly and she’s wearing a light cotton sundress, blue, and she’s just perfect. 

“Come and keep me company while I cook the steaks, okay?”

“Okay, you want some wine?”

“Sure.  Open the pinot noir.  The chianti is for dinner.”

“Wow, fancy, Halpert!  I didn’t know you were a wine expert.”

“I know a little.  Just enough to probably make an ass out of myself at a really good restaurant.”

After a glass and a half of wine, the night air, and Pam’s laughter, he settles into himself and silently scolds his inner 13-year old for being such a worrier.  This is us, he thinks.  It’s so good to be with her.  She’s topping off his glass when he lifts the lid on the grill and the aroma hits him full in the face.

“Eww.  That smells kind of…funky.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, you don’t smell it?”

“Are they marinated?  Sometimes that can smell weird when it’s cooking.”

“No, no marinade.  Just salt and pepper.”

Pam leans over the grill and sniffs.

“Oh.  Maybe that’s not right.”

Jim grabs the steak off the grill and cuts a small piece off the end.

“Only one way to know for sure,” and he sticks the meat in his mouth.

Pam watches as his eyes go wide and he starts shaking his head.

“Uh uh.  Mm mm.  No.”

He walks quickly into the kitchen and opens the garbage can. 

“Oh, bad.  That’s very bad.  It’s spoiled!  Fuck!”

“Are you sure, Jim?”

“Oh, I’m definitely…oh.  You want to try a piece, Beesly?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Fuck.”

“Did it smell before?”

“No, it looked fine!  Dammit!”

“It’s okay!  Don’t worry about it.  We still have salad and wine and dessert.  That’s totally fine.”

“No, it’s not!  I’m so mad!”

“Well, there’s nothing you can do about it now, so just get the salad out and I’ll get some plates.”

“I’m going back to the butcher shop tomorrow.  With the steaks.”

“Maybe you can borrow a gun from Dwight!”

“Yeah!  And the throwing stars, too!”

She laughs and he laughs and she hugs him and says she had no idea he was so violent.  He’s still mad, but he’s going to salvage the night.  As long as she’s here and smiling and there’s wine and music and candles, it’s a good night.

It happens so quick, he can’t recover.  He’s lifting the salad bowl out of the refrigerator when the lip of the bowl catches on the shelf and as he tries to prevent it from falling, he actually tosses the bowl up, into his chest and watches the entire salad toss itself down the front of his sweater, his jeans, with a few croutons settling between his toes.

This can’t be happening.  He’s a good person.  Loves his mother.  Is kind to animals and old people.  Why? 

The bowl is still clattering on the floor and his arms are hanging limp and useless by his sides.  He looks over at her with a face of such exasperation that she bursts out laughing.  She’s doubled over, with her hand over her mouth and she’s laughing so hard, just a few squeaking noises are coming out of her.  He just stands there, feeling like the biggest ass in the world, and now she’s standing straight up, staring at him, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

Pam knows he’s embarrassed, but she can’t help it.  He looks so broken!  Defeated by dinner!  When their eyes meet, he looks a little mad at her for laughing, so she tries to control herself as best she can, but that just makes it worse. 

Finally, he lifts a foot up, grabs a crouton, and pops it in his mouth and chews while looking at her, defiantly, which only sets her off even more.  He picks a romaine leaf from his sweater and eats it.

“What?  Isn’t this how you do it?  Pam, it’s kind of sexy, really.  You have no idea what I can do with pair of tongs.”

She has to sit down on the floor, she’s laughing so hard.  He still feels like a complete dork, but it’s done.  He can’t change it, so he sits down beside her with the salad bowl, still containing a few leaves of lettuce. 

“Even though you’re the meanest girl I know, I’m still going to feed you”, and he puts a piece of lettuce in her mouth but she’s laughing too hard to chew and holds her hands up to stop him.  When she can finally breathe, he tries to shame her by raising one eyebrow and giving her a look.

“I’m sorry!  Really, but that was just…perfect!”

“It wasn’t my idea of how perfect was going to go tonight, I can tell you that.”

“But it was perfect!  I can’t believe you ate that crouton off your foot!”

“It’s tradition in my family!”

“Stop!”

Still laughing, she grabs his face with both her hands and leans up on her knees and kisses him, pulling his face in close to hers, smashing their noses together, then running her hands in his hair, she can’t get close enough.

“I love you.  Don’t worry about anything, ever, okay?  I already love you.”

He’s stunned silent, still a little embarrassed, mad at himself for how this evening turned out.

“We still have more wine.  And cheesecake!  Why don’t you go take your clothes off and we can have dessert in the bedroom?”

These characters don't belong to me

Sleep, baby, sleep

Now that the night is over

And the sun comes like a god

Into our room

All perfect light and promises

There’s a sense of someone in the room.  Someone touching him.  Pam, it’s Pam.  Soft lips on his neck, her arm snaking underneath his as she snuggles up behind him. 

“Mmmmmm.  What time is it?”

“It’s early.  Just 7:00.  Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep.  You’re doing that thing on my neck.”

“I’ll stop.”

“No, don’t stop.”

Finally, he groans loudly, rolls over on his back and scoops her onto his chest.

“Why are you up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.  I don’t know.  I just popped up like toast.”

He squeezes her to him and kisses the top of her head.

“And now I’m up.  Thank you, Pam.  Did you sleep okay?”

“I don’t think it was sleep.  It was more like a coma.”

“Last night was….”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

They’d moved past new and slightly awkward.  They’d moved past, ‘oh, I see how this works and what you like.’  They were now entering, ‘how can I completely blow your mind?’ territory.

“I made coffee.  You want some?”

 “You’re very perky on so little sleep, Bees.”

“I’m glad you’re up to play with me.”

Ninety minutes, two cups of coffee, and one completed crossword puzzle ("You’re turning into Stanley!”) later, she’s restless.  He’s reading the box scores, she’s scanning the movies.   His right hand rests on her bare thigh.  She inches a little closer to him and puts her own hand on his bare thigh.  She sneaks a quick peek at his face.  No reaction.  He’s lost in the world of baseball.

She rolls on her side and props herself up on an elbow and drinks him in.  She loves this Sunday morning ritual they have.  She’s always up first, she always makes the coffee.  She’s usually wearing one of his t-shirts and he’s usually in his boxer-briefs.  She wakes him up with kisses because she can’t wait for him to wake up on his own.  She brings the newspaper and two cups of coffee back to bed.  They camp and read and sip and laugh and argue over the puzzle.  She makes up words.  He teases her.  She tries to steal the pen from him, but he won’t have it.  When she reads quietly, he slides his hand under the t-shirt.  She props herself up higher and rests her hand in his hair while she reads, winding it around her fingers.  He rubs his feet on hers.  She tries to get him to commit to plans for the day and he won’t do it before 11:00.  That’s the rule. 

“There’s an art festival on the river today.  Or we could see a movie.”

“Mm hmm.”

“Are you listening?”

“Mm hmm.”

“You are not.”

“Art festival.  Movie.  Is it eleven yet?”

“No..”

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

He pushes the paper off the bed and rolls over on top of her, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head.

“Every Sunday, Beesly, we have to have this talk.  God!”

She giggles.  His knees are on either side of her and his hair is sticking out and falling over his forehead.  His beard is in serious need of a shave, but it looks so good on him, she doesn’t care.  He kisses her, careful not to scrape her soft skin.  It’s too much, he’s too much.  She can’t wrap her mind around it all and her heart wells up. 

“I love you so much.”

He squints at her when he hears the serious note in her voice and then he notices the tears at the corners of her gorgeous green eyes.

“Hey…what?”

“It’s nothing.  Nothing bad.  I just love you.  I love Sunday mornings with you.”

“Yeah.  Saturday nights are pretty good, too, huh?”

“Saturday nights are amazing.”

“I’m a little partial to early Tuesday afternoons, myself.”

“Really?”

“Mm hmm.  And Thursdays.  Late morning.  Awesome.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“Absolutely.”

But when he relaxes his elbows and stretches himself out on top of her, he’s serious.  He weaves his fingers into her hair and buries his face in her neck and takes in her scent and lets his lips roam over her skin. 

He makes his way to her ear and he whispers, “I love you.  Every day.”

I don't own these characters.

I have kissed honey lips

Felt the healing in her fingertips

They burned like fire

This burning desire   

 ~~~~~~~

The plan was to leave early in the morning.  Get a jump on the traffic.  His car was loaded down and ready, the route was mapped. 

He had all good intentions.  He had shut the alarm off before it rang out.  He hadn’t really slept much, just a fitful hour or so.  Had his shower, shaved his face and dressed in the only unpacked pair of jeans.  But now he sat on the patio in the early morning darkness, drinking coffee.  He felt too heavy to move and so he sat and promised himself he would get up and head to the car as soon as he was done with his coffee. 

He leaned back in the chair, put his feet up on the bench and covered his eyes with his hands.  Nothing was right, everything felt wrong.  He shouldn’t have done it, but he did.  He should have done it differently, been more insistent, more forceful.  Maybe if he’d begged her.  No, no.  He should stay and see it through.  Maybe if they talked again.  No, he needed to get the hell out, he couldn’t take it anymore.   Maybe he could learn to be her friend so there could still be something, he could still have a little of her.  No, no, he’d always want more.  He’d always want everything. 

“You can.”  He said it out loud in the darkness.  To no one.  That’s what I should have said.  I should have told her it would be so easy, it would be the easiest thing in the world.  You wouldn’t have to do anything but let go.  I would do everything and all you’d have to do is love me.  I’d make you see how things could be, how happy we could be. 

He shouldn’t have let her push him away.  What?  Force himself on her?  One more kiss, just one more.  That might have made the difference.  He should have.  But he walked away.  He let go of her hands and walked out the door and she let him.

He rubbed his eyes and looked around. 

“Enough.”

He altered the route on the way out of town a bit.  He drove by the office, through the parking lot.  The sun just peeking out, he sat for a moment, staring at the spot where they had stood. 

“Enough.”

On the approach to the Delaware Bridge spanning Lake Wallenpaupack, he rolled down his window and let the cool air bring his thoughts around and dry the tears on his cheeks. 

He imagined Pam standing on the near side of the bridge and he slowed down, keeping his tires on solid ground as long as he could.  If he’s going to do it, he’s got to go all in.  All in, just like she’d said.  He imagined that driving over the bridge and on to Stamford was the end of all of it.  All he had to do was let up on the brake and drive.  If he looked in his rear view mirror, he’d see the bridge vanishing into vapor.  Scranton, the office, Pam, all gone.  All he had to do was drive over that bridge and the crushing ache in his chest would be gone.  He wouldn’t have to wonder anymore, because it would be done.

He wiped his face, gripped the wheel, released the brake and the car began to roll forward.  He had no idea what he was driving toward, but he knew what he was leaving behind.

Sweet like candy to my soul
Sweet you rock
And sweet you roll
Lost for you I’m so lost for you

Like a flower waiting to bloom

Like a light bulb in a dark room

I’m just sitting here waiting

For you to come home

And turn me on.   

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

Pam has the whole night to herself.  Jim is off playing basketball and she’s taking full advantage of her time alone.  It’s beauty night!  She’s sipping on a glass of wine, Nina Simone is on the stereo, she’s wearing her favorite pink pajama shorts and tank.  She’s had a shower and a bath.  She’s sugar-scrubbed and body-buttered.  Her hair is piled on top of her head and she’s just finished applying a clay mask to her face.   The bathroom is steamy and filled with the scent of apricot and ginger and lemon. 

Turning the bathroom light off, she relaxes back onto the bed, pouring a little more wine and stretching her legs out.  She can’t help but run her hands up and down her legs, they feel like silk and now she can’t wait for Jim to come home.  Closing her eyes, she imagines his hands slowly caressing her legs and….

“Beesly!  Holy crap!”

She screams.

“God, Jim!  What are you doing home so early?”

“The other team didn’t have enough players show up, so we just…I’m sorry.  What the hell is on your face?”

“It’s a clay mask.  Don’t tell me you’ve never seen this before.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you that.  I will tell you that you scared the crap out of me.”

“Pot, kettle!  You weren’t supposed to be home for another hour.”

“You’re…green!”

“Yes, Jim, I am green, and according to Angela, green is whorish.  So, I’m a little bit whorish, too.”

“Well, that goes without saying, but this is really…something to come home to.”

“I was having a little spa night to myself.  You weren’t supposed to see any of this.”

“Have I entered the inner sanctum, Bees?  Where all the girly stuff happens?”

“Yes you have and I’d prefer to keep this stuff private so go watch some sports thing and scratch for awhile.”

“Scratch?  What kind of animal do you take me for?  Besides, I want to watch this.  Are you going to peel that whole thing off and turn into someone completely different?”

“No, you dork, this one doesn’t peel off.  It just washes off but I have to wait for it to dry first.”

“And what does this stuff do for you?”

“Well, Jim, I’m glad you asked.  This is a pore-refining mask.  It is going to remove impurities from my skin, minimize fine lines, and reveal the dewy skin of my girlhood, leaving me with a totally soft, totally kissable face.”

“Well, who doesn’t want that?”

“You want to try it?”

“No, thank you.”

“You sure?”

“Pam, Todd Packer’s already convinced I’m as gay as an Easter bonnet.  If this were to get out...”

“Have some wine.  I’m going to wash my face.”

When she returns, he’s stretched out on the bed.  She lies down in the opposite direction, so they can look at each other. 

“Your face!  It looks completely soft and kissable!”

“Why, thank you, Jim!”

He runs one hand up her calf, behind her knee, to the inside of her thigh.  And just that fast, the air changes, becomes thick with anticipation.

“So do your legs”

He reaches forward, pulls one leg of her pajama shorts up and peers inside.

“Mmmmm….so does…everything.  You look.…delicious.”

“Really?”

“Mmm hmm.  Like a cream puff.”

He gently opens her legs as her head falls back. His hand lingers for a moment, but returns to her legs instead, stroking her softly from her ankles to the very tops of her thighs, playing with her, teasing her, enjoying the feel of her skin.  He watches as her hips rise slightly up off the bed.  He lays his head down on her thighs to keep her still, rubs his whiskers on her lightly, inhales her scent, exhales his desire.  She feels his breath hot on her, his mouth just inches away from where she’s willing it to be.  She slides down the bed, encouraging his mouth closer.

“Is there something you want?”  So close, she can feel his lips moving.

“Yes, don’t tease.”

“This isn’t teasing.  This is taking my time.”  His tongue is just underneath the edge of her shorts.

“Okay.”

His voice is rough and slow and she can hardly stand it when he talks to her with his mouth so close. 

“I’m thinking….”

She puts her hands in his hair, but he pulls them away and holds them down on the bed at her sides.  His tongue is lazing around her, not really touching.  She pushes her hips toward him.

“I’m sorry.  Did you want something?  I’m very busy.”

“Jim.”

“I’m thinking that you took so much time making yourself look…so...…good…”  His tongue is achingly close to her but he just lets his breath caress her.  “I should take at least that much time making you feel good.”

She stops struggling against his hands and gives in.  She knows if she pushes him, he’ll push back and torture her even longer.  She lets out a long sigh as he inches just a little closer. 

“Good girl.”

~~~~

Many thanks to mixedberryjam for being my beta on this chapter.  I don't think I can fly solo again.

I wanted to restrict myself to dialogue only for this chapter to try and capture the sweet, silly, rambling conversations that can happen late at night between two satisfied lovers.  I hope you know what I mean.  Song is "The Dimming of the Day" - the Bonnie Raitt version. 

Want to listen to this song?  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1EWCH3EcAY

Come the night you're only what I want
Come the night you could be my confidant

“Mashed potatoes.  Definitely.  What about you?” 

“So hard to pick just one comfort food….mashed potatoes are up there.  I think I’m going to have to go with mac and cheese, though.  But not the boxed stuff.  I want the real thing.”

“So, you’re a mac and cheese snob, eh Beesly?” 

“Not at all!  I’ve eaten the boxed stuff and it has a certain…charm.  But it’s just not the same as homemade.”

“You’ve thought about that a little too much, I think.”

“Yeah, maybe I have.”

“Hey, have you seen The Way We Were?”

“Yeah.  Such a sad movie.”

“You know that scene…” 

“Wait, wait.  I have no problem with the fact that you’ve seen The Way We Were, but you know it well enough to quote a scene?” 

“Yeah, so?  It’s a great movie!”

“Do you cry at the end?”

“I cry through the whole thing, Pam, okay?  My shirt’s wet and I’ve usually blown my way through a box of Kleenex by the time they break up the first time.  Happy?”

“So sensitive!  Men have feelings, too, Jim.  It’s okay.”

“Anyway, the scene when Hubbell and JJ...”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“’Hubbell and JJ’?  It’s like you play ball with these guys at the Y or something!” 

“Stop laughing.  Do you want to get tossed off this bed?”

 “No, no, Jim!  I’m sorry.  Go on, your BFFs Hubbell and…?”

“JJ.  Dammit, Beesly.  Are you done?”

“Go on, go on!  I’m dying to know!” 

“Grrrr.  You are just asking for it.  Anyway…they’re on this sailboat and they’re kind of playing the game we’re playing tonight.  The Best of Everything…best year, best week, you know.  It’s just a great scene.”

“That’s after they broke up, right?”

“Right, they’re not together and you can tell that he’s missing her…hey, are you going to let me get a full thought out here without interrupting me?  You’re so rude!” 

“Ow!!  Jim, you just broke a rib with the squeezing.”

“You really deserve a spanking instead.”

“Yeah, don’t tease me like that.  Finish your story.”

“Well, JJ asks Hubbell what his favorite year is and he names one.  Then another and another and you just know that he’s naming all the years he was with Barbra Streisand.”

“I remember that now.  It is very touching.  His best years were the ones with her.   I’m sorry I teased you.” 

“No you’re not, but that’s okay.  I’m secure in my manliness and I can handle whatever it is you think you’re dishing out.”

“You’re very manly, Halpert.  Look at all this chest hair.  I never knew.  You hairy like aneemal!” 

“No. Pam. No.  Is that…Ping?  Are you doing Michael doing Ping?”

“Y-yes!  What’s happening to me?”

“Pam, have ya lost ya mind?”

“Stanley, oh my God!  Don’t!  I have to pee!”

“Hurry up and go pee and come back.”

“So, as I was saying when Ping so rudely interrupted…I think about that scene a lot.”

“Yeah?  So, what’s your best year, Halpert?”

“That’s easy.  This year.  This is my best year.”

“Really?  It started out kind of rough.  Two moves in less than six months.” 

"Yeah, that really sucked.  It’s funny, though.  I never completely unpacked in Stamford.  I just unpacked stuff as I needed it, you know?  I still had whole boxes taped up.”

“Wow.  How come?”

“I don’t know.  I guess, it never really felt permanent to me….like I was away at camp or on vacation or something.  I just always kind of knew I would be coming back.”

“Hmm.” 

“Is this bugging you?”

“No, I like it when you play with my hair.” 

“The year definitely took a turn for the better, oh, around the middle of May, though.  And now it’s the best year.”

“It is.  It’s my best year, now, too.  And I think it’s because it started out….not nearly my best year.” 

“I’m so sorry about all…” 

“No, no.  Remember we said we were done apologizing.  It was good.  It didn’t feel like it at the time, but it made me see some things and made me…I don’t know.  It was the first time I was ever really alone as an adult, where I didn’t have someone else to think about.  I had to really think about what I wanted.”

“Yeah?  I still feel bad.”

“You shouldn’t.  It made me see how you must have felt all along.  I wanted to tell you that so much.  And after I spent all that time alone, I knew what I really wanted more than anything was to be with you.”

“You really shocked the hell out of me on the beach.”

“I shocked myself!”

“My mind was going everywhere and it was blank at the same time.”

“I was afraid you were going to be mad at me for saying it in front of everyone.” 

“No, even though I was just….stunned by what you were saying, underneath it, I was thinking how proud I was of you.  Man, that took some guts.” 

“Well, after you walk on burning coals, Jim, baring your soul in front of your coworkers is really nothing.”

“You’re The Firewalker Girl!” 

“Yes, I am.”

“You know, I was aware that Karen was there and hearing what I was hearing, but it didn’t even really register.” 

“I felt bad about that.  I apologized to her…sort of.”

“Really?  That was nice of you.”

“Yeah, maybe not too nice.” 

“Maybe I don’t need to know about that.”

“Good answer.” 

“Okay, best week, Beesly.” 

“Hands down, our first week together in June.”

“Hey, that's my best week!”

“I’ll share it with you.”

“You’re so good to me.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Maybe.  What do we have?”

“Leftover meatloaf and I’m kind of craving a sandwich.  Halvsies?”

“Andy.  Question:  do we have any of my mom’s homemade bread left?”

“Yes, Dwight.” 

“Okay.  Split a beer with me?” 

“Sure.  Stay, I’ll be right back.” 

“You want help?”

“No, your idea of ‘help’ is groping me while I make the sandwich.” 

“You don’t want help?”

“Stay.”

“Mmm…this was a damned fine meatloaf, Beesly.”

“It’s my best thing, if I do say so myself.  Sip, please.”

“Okay, Pam, best day?”

“That’s a hard one...oh, don’t say it.  You know what was a great day?  The day we did the Olympics at work.”

“Ha!  That was a good day!  Phyllis really got into it, huh?”

“She was hysterical.  She has an awfully big crush on you.” 

“I know.  We’ve talked.”

“Oh, really?  Should I be worried here?” 

“Well, I am on her list.” 

“Her list of…oh, my God!  She told you that?” 

“Yeah, at the Christmas party.  She was a little tipsy.”

“C’mere, you have a little ketchup…” 

“Pam!  God!  You just licked my face!  Jesus Christ!”

“W-what?”

“I can’t believe you!”

“Hey, my tongue’s been pretty much all over you, Halpert!  Now you have a problem with me licking your face?”

“I don’t know!  It’s just weird!”

“You’re weird.”

“Best day, Beesly.  Quit stalling.” 

“Mmmm…let me think.  Best day, best day….Oh!  Another good day was Michael’s birthday the year before last.  I had so much fun with you.  At a stupid Rite-Aid!”

“I’ll never forget the look on your face when that clerk scolded you.  Like you were ten and got in trouble with your teacher.” 

“You totally threw me under the bus with her!” 

“That was great.  Are you banned from Rite-Aid, too?  I can't remember.”

“Very funny, Jim!  I remember thinking as we were walking through the store and you were pushing the cart that that’s what it would be like if we were together.” 

“You did not.”

“Yeah, I did.  It was the fabric softener that did it.” 

“Such a dork.”

“That’s exactly what you said that day.”

“I remember Michael giving you a lecture on doing your breast self-exam.” 

“Oh.  Thank you, Michael!  That wasn’t awkward!”

“That was a good day.  Was it the best, though?”

“No, I know the best day, but I like talking about this stuff with you.” 

“I do, too.   It's great to...mmm...what was that for?” 

“Because I’m so happy we can talk to each other now.” 

“Yeah?  That’s nice, but I’m really in this for the sex.”

“Well, Jim, as long as we’re being honest, I just tolerate these late-night confessionals because of the sex.”

“Thanks for being honest with me, Pam.” 

"No problem.  Best day was May 17th.” 

“What year?  Owww!!!”

“What year?  Halpert, that deserved a pinch.  The absolute best day, ever.”

“It was a big day.”

“I’ll never ever in a million years forget how I felt when you opened that door and asked me to dinner.”

“Man, I was so nervous, but at the same time, I just felt completely…wired…alive...  but hyper-alive.  I don’t know how to explain it.  I was really excited.  I wanted to come in and swoop you up and carry you out of there like Richard Gere in Officer and a Gentleman.” 

“Because I love you, I’m not going to say a word about your movie references, okay?”

“Oh, thank you, Pam.  I’m trying to tell you how full of emotion I was…for YOU…and you mock me.” 

“It’s what I do.”

“Where are you going now?” 

“I’ll be right back.” 

“Paaaaam.  I miss you, come back!” 

“I’m back, I’m back.  Did you miss me?  I brought you a brownie.”

“Oh, yeah!  Thanks.  You’re going to make me fat.”

“Then you really will be Fat Halpert...hey hey hey!” 

“Now you’re doing Michael doing Cosby.  I’m concerned.”

“Don’t be.  I still love you best.”

“Will you love me when I’m fat?”

“You could never be fat.  Because you have this long….mmm…lanky….mmm…broad-shouldered...narrow…mmm…hipped frame.  God, you’re yummy.”

 “Yummy?”

“Too bad you won’t let me lick your face.”

“Where you are is just fine.”

“What’s your best day, Halpert?” 

“The day we won the state basketball championship in high school.” 

“Oh.”

“Shut up.  Are you kidding me?  You said May 17th so I’ll say May 18th.”

“Really?  There were a lot of tears that day, Jim.  And a little yelling.”

“I know.  But we got it all out.  We got to say everything.  That really was my best day, all kidding aside.” 

“It felt good to finally say those things.”

“I need to roll over on my other side, Bees.  My arm’s asleep.”

“That’s better.  You comfortable?”

“Mmm hmmm.” 

“I’ll never forget what you said about when I was in Stamford.” 

“What did I say?”

“You said you fell in love with me when I wasn’t even there.”

“For the second time, really, because I realized I’d been in love with you all along. I’ll never forget what you said to me after that.” 

“What?” 

“You said, ‘I never stopped loving you.’”

“Yeah, I never did.  It might have looked like I did, but that kind of…yeah, it’s way too….I just knew I always would.” 

“Mmmm.  You’re so nice and warm.” 

“You’re awfully squirmy, there, Bees.  Are you trying to tell me something?” 

“I love you, Jim.”

“More.”

“I love you.  I love you.  I love you.  Like that?”

“No, but that was very cute.  I meant I love you more.”

“Nuh uh.  I love you like a hundred million tons.  I don’t think you can love me more.”

“Oh, a hundred million tons is nothing, Pam.  I love you more than that.”

Yeah, every time it seems like there ain't nothing left no more,
I find myself having to reach out and grab hold of something
I just catch myself wondering, waiting, worrying
About some silly little things that don't add up to nothing.

And then she looks me in the eye and says, we gonna last forever
And man, you know I can't begin to doubt it
No, because this feels so good and so free and so right,
I know we ain't never gonna change our minds about it.

Hey, here comes my girl
Here comes my girl

~~~~~~~~~

Jim takes another look at the car's clock in the dashboard. 3:42. He feels a little panic flutter in his stomach and presses hard on the cruise control to add five more miles per hour. He tries to will every light on the way into Scranton to magically turn green as he makes his way to the church. He knows Pam will be looking for him before the ceremony starts so he tries to call her to tell her he's on his way, don't worry, but her phone is off. He leaves a voicemail.

Hey, you. It's almost quarter to four and I'm risking my life and a speeding ticket to get there on time. See you in a bit and stop worrying about your hair!

Michael had insisted he attend Scranton Business Expo and Job Fair '08. He'd tried to beg off, saying Andy or Dwight or Kelly would do a much better job at the meet and greet schmooze-fest, but Michael insisted. Jim told him Pam's sister was getting married today and Pam was maid of honor and he had to be there, on time, wedding at 4:00. No problemo, Jimbo. Expo's done at 3:00.

But by the time they'd packed up all the promotional materials and loaded them into the Sebring's trunk, it was 3:26. Thank God he'd been able to convince Michael that he needed to drive separately because now Michael wanted to stop at Chili's on the way home. Guys afternoon out, Jim! Jim reminded him of the wedding while he was buckling his seat belt and starting the car. Michael tried to tell him the ceremony wasn't any big deal, it was the reception that really mattered. Rolling his eyes, he told Michael he'd see him Monday, and sped out of the parking lot.

As if Monday through Friday weren't enough, he had just spent four hours of his weekend devoted to Dunder Mifflin. Four hours of standing and chatting up the company with potential clients and potential employees. On his feet the entire time, trying not to overhear Michael's conversations, trying hard to sound enthusiastic about selling paper, their great customer service, all the perks of working at a failing mid-range paper company. He leans the seat back a little further to stretch out the dull ache in his back.

For maybe the thousandth time, he starts to have the conversation with himself. He should look for another job. He should be doing something else, teaching, coaching, something that he's proud of, something that gives him a feeling of purpose, a sense of meaning to his life. He's good at sales, he knows that. It comes so naturally to him and his salary and bonuses have steadily increased to a level that he didn't think he'd ever reach at Dunder Mifflin. He hadn't even considered that he'd still be working there at this point, let alone making such good money.

But some days, the money just wasn't enough. Michael seemed to be trying his patience more and more and now Ryan was adding a new level of pressure from corporate. No regrets, there, not taking that job. He'd be doing it differently and probably better than Ryan, but he knows he wouldn't be happy. Maybe he could do sales at another company, he thinks, for the thousandth time. He could take his experience and excellent sales numbers anywhere and do well for himself. But it would still be sales. He wouldn't have Michael and Ryan and Dwight to deal with, but he knows no job is perfect, and he'd likely be trading his current aggravations for a whole new set. Running his hand over his face, the conversation ends the way it always does: with him feeling a little trapped, a little weary, and a little defeated. He convinces himself that the status quo is his best option. For now.

Pulling into the church parking lot at 3:57, he breathes a sigh of relief. Checking himself in the rear view mirror, Jim straightens his tie, runs a hand quickly through his hair, and reaches behind him to grab his jacket off the hook. Outside the front of the church is empty, so he knows everyone is seated. The wedding party is surely lined up just inside the front entrance and he doesn't want to burst in and disrupt them as they're getting ready to walk down the aisle. He jogs around to the side door and slips into a half-empty pew five or six rows from the front. He looks around for familiar faces from Pam's family to make sure he's on the right side of the church. Satisfied, he sits and lets out a deep sigh. Just barely, but he's made it on time.

The church is one of Scranton's oldest and it's filled with ornate wood columns and Old World-style stained glass. The ridiculously high ceiling is ribbed with wood beams and the huge space creates a hush of reverence over the crowd. He feels a sense of calm come over him for the first time that day. He doesn't consider himself particularly religious, he's just glad to be done with the business of the day.

The music starts and everyone stands. He turns around, peering over the crowd to watch the procession and catch his first glimpse of her. She'd fretted over the dress so much because the halter-style was more revealing than she would have liked. She thought the color, a deep burgundy, was too dark for her pale skin. She wanted to wear her hair down and loose, her sister had insisted she wear it pinned up. She hated looking too "fussy" and vowed to take her hair down at the reception.

He barely notices the bridesmaids making their slow procession down the aisle, because over heads and hats and veils, he can see her waiting. She's whispering something in her sister's ear, a final joke, a sisterly secret they both share, then she laughs. He doesn't really hear her, but the soundtrack of her laughter echoes in his ears just the same. When she starts her slow walk down the aisle, he feels an exquisite ache in his chest. When he sees her trying to subtly scan the crowd, he knows she's looking for him, a tiny worry line in the middle of her forehead. He shifts slightly on his feet and raises up on his toes to try and get her attention.

And then she sees him and the worry line disappears and the smile, that smile that tells him he's exactly where he should be, spreads over her radiant, blushing face. Her eyes open wide when they meet his and he can read all her thoughts. She's so relieved he made it, so happy he's here, does she look okay, she hates her hair, she can't wait until they can sit together and hold hands and translate the entire day for each other in their own language that nobody else understands. He winks at her, transmitting his own thoughts: you look beautiful, your hair looks great, and I can't wait until I can wrap my arms around you and hear about your day.

After she passes, he drops his head, not even looking for the bride. He forgets the day and Michael and the job and his thoughts grow silent. All at once, he feels revived. He feels strength flowing back into his veins, as he straightens up and throws his shoulders back. He watches her take the bouquet from her sister's hands and she turns to catch his eye. She mouths I love you and he knows he's where he belongs. He smiles quietly to himself. He's firmly, contentedly at home and at peace in this place in the world Pam has made for him, where everything makes sense and he knows what his purpose is.

I can't wait another minute, baby
To do the things that we've never done
Everybody gets hungry some time
Your love is like a kettle on

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pam looks in the grocery cart and sees the package of Depends that she knows for sure she did not put there. She looks at Jim.

"What?"

"Depends, Jim?"

"Remember the other night when you said I made you laugh so hard you almost peed your pants?"

"Put them back, please." 

"I'm just thinking of you, Beesly."

"You're very thoughtful, yes."

He walks ahead of her down the aisle.

"Honey, do we have enough condoms?"

"Ssshhh! God, Jim! What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing's the matter with me. Just this morning you told me I was perfect!"

Pam walks straight past him, shaking her head. An elderly woman in the same aisle pretends to check out the arthritis remedies, but she's eavesdropping with a wistful smile on her face.

"How's the laxative supply, hon? You know how cranky you get when..."

"JIM!"

Pam's at the end of the aisle giving him her best death glare. She motions with her head that he should follow her and keep quiet.

Jim makes eye contact with their elderly eavesdropper, shrugs and gives her his best, "I'll never figure women out!" face. She laughs.

"Your wife is darling, young man. You seem very happy."

"Oh, she's not..."

"It's the laughter I miss the most since I lost my husband. He was a rascal, just like you. Enjoy every single moment."

She puts her hand on his arm and gives him a little squeeze.

She's on her way down the aisle before Jim can even move his feet. When he catches up with her, he asks, "how long were you married?"

"Fifty-seven glorious years."

"Wow."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, it wasn't all sunshine and roses, but he made even the bad times bearable because he made me laugh."

"Yeah. That's great."

"How long have you and your wife been married?"

"Oh, we're not married."

"You're not? Could've fooled me! Well, what are you waiting for?"

"I..I don't know!"

"I know all old people say this, dear, but your life goes by in a flash. You don't want to waste one minute of it."

"Okay."

She pats his arm and says goodbye.

Jim stands in the middle of the aisle, silent and a little stunned. What is he waiting for? He loves her more than he thought he possibly could. Even when he's teasing her and trying to wind her up and she acts annoyed with him, he knows she loves him. They've been together about nine months now and it just keeps growing and deepening and he's already loved her for so long that he knows beyond any doubt that this is it. She's it for him and that's all there is.

He walks quickly to the front of the store where the soda and gumball machines are. He walks past the instant lottery machines and the newspaper stand. He's digging around in his pocket for a quarter and he finds the machine he wants. He takes a deep breath and slips the quarter in the slot and turns the handle.

When he finds Pam, she's in the frozen food section, trying to decide on ice cream.

"Hey."

"Hey. I thought you got lost and you might be crying in the cereal aisle, looking for me."

"No, I didn't get lost."

"Good. What'll it be? Rocky Road or plain old chocolate?"

"What?"

"Ice cream, Jim. Which flavor?"

"Oh. I don't care. Whatever you want. Get both."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine. I'm good."

"You sure?"

"Pam, you love me, right?"

"Yeah, of course! Are you okay? Did something happen?"

"No. Well, yeah. But that's not important now. I'll tell you later."

"Okay."

Pam turns to the freezer to get the ice cream and when she turns back to the cart, she's shocked to see Jim on his knees.

"Jim! What...?"

"Pam, I love you...and I don't know what I've been waiting for but I can't love you any more than I already do. I don't ever want this to end. I want to get married...I want to marry you."

He's got both her hands in his and frees one hand to reach into his pocket and pull out a plastic gold ring with a huge plastic diamond and slips it on her finger.

"Please say yes. I spent a whole quarter on this thing."

Her tears fall as quickly as her laughter comes tumbling out over him and she reaches down to put her arms around his neck and she kisses him, saying "yes...yes...yes...you big....dork! Oh, I love you so much."

Jim stands and wraps his arms around her, lifts her up so they're eye-to-eye.

"Pam, I want it to be like this, always."

"Even when we're old and grey?"

"Especially then."

She has his face in her hands and she's kissing him over and over.

When he finally sets her down, she looks at her ring.

"It's beautiful. You must have looked for this for a long time."

"Oh, you have no idea, Pam."

She giggles. "We're going to get married!"

"Absolutely, we are."

"Let's get out of here!"

"Okay."

They wait in line at the checkout, beaming at each other. Jim sees his elderly lady friend in the next lane. He takes hold of Pam's hand and walks her over to the woman. He holds up Pam's hand, and says, "I'm not waiting any more. Thank you."

She looks surprised, then laughs, approvingly. She looks at Pam.

"Honey, you've got your hands full with that one!"

"Oh, I know!"

"Much happiness to you both, my dears."

"And laughter," Jim says.

"Oh, yes. Much laughter."

I absolutely love this Louis Armstrong song of coy and clever double entendres.  Just a short little bit of dialogue about one of Jim's, um, body parts and my explanation for what Pam was doing checking out celebrity porn.

Electric eels, I might add, do it
Though it shocks them, I know
Oh, why ask if shad do it?
Waiter, bring me shad roe!
In shallow shoals, English soles, do it
Goldfish, in the privacy of bowls, do it
Let's do it
Let's fall in love

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Pam, you've never seen it?"

"No. The only thing I've ever heard about it is how huge Tommy Lee is. When did you see it?"

"Right after it came out. Mark bought it. He paid like fifty bucks for it. Stupid."

"So...not worth it, huh?"

"Well, it was kind of creepy."

"Creepy?"

"Yeah, I had a little trouble with the whole ‘Pam Anderson' thing."

"Really?"

"Stop laughing. It really affected my concentration at work after I saw that thing."

"But I never became Pam Anderson!"

"And for that, I'm very grateful. But, still."

"Hmmm....."

"What?"

"Is he really that...big?"

"I have no idea how tall Tommy Lee is."

"Jim, that's not what I meant!"

"Oh, really, Pam? What did you mean?"

"I just can't believe he's . . . taller than you are."

"I am pretty tall."

"You're very tall, Jim.'

"Too tall?"

"Oh, no! No, you're just the perfect height."

"Tommy Lee's kind of skinny. Thin."

"Oh, yeah, yuck. You're not at all. The first time I saw you without your clothes...naked...I thought, wow, he's, um, not skinny."

"'Not skinny' is quite the compliment, Pam."

"What's the right word then? Thick? meaty? beefy? That sounds like a can of soup or something!"

"Pam, I am not as big around as a soup can."

"Oh my God! I never said that!"

"Are we talking about my...?"

"Salami?"

"Salami? Oh, Pam."

"What? Do you want me to say ‘penis' Jim? I hate that word."

"Good thing you don't hate my penis."

"I love your . . . baguette."

"Wow. Salami, baguette, and a can of soup. You've succeeded in making a full lunch menu out of nicknames for my penis, Pam. I hope you're proud of yourself."

"I am! Pamela Anderson could never do that!"

Don’t ever doubt my feelings

My love, yes, my love is real

My darling, I’m revealing

Exactly how I feel

 And if I owned a magic wand

I’d wave it for no one but you

Cause nothing in the world

Could make me love you more than I do   

~~~~~~

“Are we going to talk about this, or…”

“I don’t know what there is to talk about, Jim.”

“The fact that you’re not talking to me?”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“Okay, well, I know that’s not true.  I know you probably have plenty to say.”

“What do you want to hear?  That I can’t believe you lied to me?  That I hate the fact that you couldn’t be honest with me?  That you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the whole truth?”

“It’s not like that at all.”

“How else could it be?  You told me ‘I didn’t get the job.’  You never told me that you were offered the job and didn’t take it.  Because of me.”

“Look, I was going to tell you.  I just didn’t want to put all that on you before we even had one date under our belts.”

“Because you didn’t trust me.  You didn’t think I could handle it.  After everything, Jim?”

“It’s not that I didn’t think you could handle it, Pam.  I didn’t want you to have to handle it.  Because of everything.  Don’t you get that?”

“No, I really don’t.”

“Okay, here it is.  I’ve been in love with you from the first day I met you.  You know that.  It took me over three years to tell you that and then I left.  I moved to another state because I couldn’t stand to watch you marry Roy.  Then, I find out, from Michael, that you called off the wedding and I couldn’t even let myself hope I might have had something to do with that decision because you never contacted me.  Ever.”

“Ancient history, Jim.  I don’t see…”

“Just give me a second, okay?  Okay.  So, I tried to move on with Karen and I don’t think I need to go into how well all that worked out.  Then you getting back together with Roy.  Wow.  Even though that didn’t last, I never had any indication from you that you wanted things to change between us.  We’d made all these big decisions because of each other and we weren’t even together!  When the chance came to move away again, I knew I had to try and take it.  It was the worst possible thing…all that time I thought the only thing standing in the way of us being together was Roy.  But then months went by and we weren’t talking and I felt like if you really wanted things to be different between us, you would have said something.”

“I did.  At the beach”

“Right.  Days before my interview.  I don’t think I slept more than a few hours each night after that.  Anyway, when I got your note during the interview, I couldn’t believe it.  And when I realized that I was actually going to get offered the job, I panicked.  I knew what I wanted.  I wanted you.  Nothing had changed.  But we had such a long history of crap between us and bad decisions, and not talking…I couldn’t imagine myself running back to Scranton and saying, ‘I gave it all up for you.’  I mean, that’s an awful lot to dump on someone.”

“Because you didn’t think I could handle it.”

“No!  Because I wanted to start fresh, with no obligations, no guilt, no second-guessing.  Okay, and yes, I didn’t want to scare the crap out of you with what I’d just done.”

“It wouldn’t have scared me.”

“You say that now, but be honest.  We hadn’t even had a date yet!  I didn’t want to force you into anything, or make you feel like…”

“Like I had to go out with you out of obligation?”

“Yes!”

“What’s wrong with you?  Don’t you see how that translates into not trusting me?”

“It felt more like not trusting myself.”

“I really don’t get that, Jim.  And here’s what made me so mad.  You think you’re the only one whose feelings are so deep.  You didn’t trust that I might feel the same way.  After everything.”

“I was afraid, okay?  I didn’t know.  Not for sure.  I always intended on telling you the truth.”

“Instead, I had to hear it from Michael.”

“Pam, I’m so sorry about that.”

“He thought I knew!  I felt like an idiot!”

“I’m sorry.  I’m really sorry.”

“We can’t have secrets or half-truths between us, Jim.  It doesn’t work for me.  I lived with that crap with Roy for years and I’m done with it.”

“I know, I’m sorry.  It was just…it was right there, we were…right on the edge of everything I ever wanted and I didn’t want to do anything that would prevent it from happening.”

“Okay.  Okay, Jim.  I can see that.  I can…but, please, don’t ever hold anything back again.”

“I won’t.  I promise.  When I think about it now, I feel like shit.  You had the balls to say you called off your wedding because of me in front of everyone.  I was just…afraid.”

This has gone on long enough, Pam thinks.  Now, she just wants it to be over.  They cleared the air, it’s done.

“Okay, okay.  C’mere”

He slides over to her side of the couch and lets her put her arms around his neck.  He buries his face in her hair and says, “I love you so much.  And I’m so sorry.”

She reaches for his face with both hands and holds it directly in front of her own.

“I love you.  Don’t ever doubt it.  Come on, you knew that all along, right?”

“Yeah.  I knew.  I just didn’t know that you knew.”

“Oh, I knew, Halpert.  I knew that I knew and I also knew that you knew that I knew.”

“I’m lost.”

She kisses him sweetly, once, twice, three times.

“You’re not the only one.”

“I am really sorry.”

“Okay, it’s okay.  I’m sorry I got so mad.  Maybe I overreacted.”

“Nah.  No holes in the walls, right?”

“No, no holes in the walls.”

“Good.  I love you.”

He kisses her with everything he has, wants to erase this first fight with his lips, wants to plant a new memory with his hands.  He slides his arm underneath her legs, still kissing her, and picks her up.  Starts walking back to the bedroom and she pulls her lips away and gives him a wicked smile.

“God, I can’t believe you gave that job up for me!  How am I ever going to live up to that?  Thanks a lot, Jim!”

He swats her bottom as he carries her down the hall.

“Pressure’s on now, Beesly.”

I've been thinking about putting this baby to bed, but I didn't want to do it without a lullaby.  I'm including all of the lyrics to the song Steady As We Go by Dave Matthews Band because it seems like the perfect end to this story, the perfect song for Jim and Pam as they are today, and perfect words for fans of this show. It's my firm belief that love is made up of little things that may not mean anything to anyone else but they are the things that really tell the story.

Want a multimedia experience?  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0hyeLfIlpg

I'd walk halfway around the world
just to sit down by your side
I would do most anything
to be the apple of your eye

troubles they may come and go
but good times, they're the gold
so if the road gets rocky, girl
just steady as we go

anyplace you wanna go
you know i'll be next to you
if it's treasure, babe, you're looking for
i'll search the whole world through

troubles they may come and go
but good times, they're the gold
so if the road gets rocky, girl
just steady as we go

when the storm comes up, you shelter me
no, i don't say a word but you know exactly what i mean
in the darkest hours
you shine on me
you set me free
and keep me
steady as we go

so if your heart wrings dry, my love
i will fill your cup
and if your load gets heavy, girl
then i will lift you up

troubles they may come and go
but good times they're the gold
so if the road gets rocky, girl
steady as we go

*****

He never calls you 'baby' and he always says he's sorry. He calls you on your cell phone when he's in the next room to ask what you're doing. He turns his t-shirts right side out before he puts them in the laundry. He sits and listens to your father tell the same stories over and over again while you roll your eyes and he says 'why don't you and your mother go out for lunch?' Somehow, he knows how the furnace works. He knows all the words to all the songs but he sings the wrong ones sometimes and when you correct him he says 'really?' and then you realize he knew them all along. He used to rub his feet together before he fell asleep but you told him it drove you crazy so now he rubs his feet on yours, instead, and that's better. He always wants to try a little bit of something from your plate because he says it looks better than his but when you offer to make him a plate he says 'no, i'll just try a little of yours.' His hands are always warm. He knows absolutely nothing about cars. 'Bed head' doesn't begin to do justice to his morning hair. He watches wrestling when you're not home and when you surprised him by coming home early once, he pretended to have fallen asleep and didn't know it was on. He doesn't snore, but he sprawls diagonally across the bed, leaving you with a little sleep triangle. He likes to watch you put your makeup on and asks ridiculous questions until you have to shove him out of the bathroom. He never reads the instructions and it makes you a little insane. He lets you put your cold feet in between his legs at night. He makes a point of removing every tag that says 'do not remove'. He loves everybody when he's drunk. He lets you trim his eyebrows when they go wild. He likes to kiss you when the car is going through the car wash. He's putty in your hands when you scratch his back. He says you look beautiful in the morning. He's your anchor, he's your comfort, he's the one truth you know for sure.

~~~~

She can't figure out how to use chopsticks, no matter how many times you've shown her. She always smells so good. She can't stay in tune at all but you like to hear her sing in the car because she bounces along in her seat and it means she's happy. She yells when she's mad but she lets you put your arms around her when she's done. She burps when she drinks beer. She really does think you can do anything and it scares you sometimes because you know you can't. Your grandmother likes her more than she likes you. When you drive home from work together she says 'let's go home and make the world go away.' When she comes out of the bedroom Saturday morning wearing lounge pants with the biggest, wildest floral print you've ever seen, and you frown at her, she says, 'Like 'em? These pants are lookin' for a party, Halpert.' The table where she keeps her paints and brushes and charcoal and photographs and papers is neat and perfectly organized because, she says, she can't think or work any other way. She cries when they play the national anthem during the Olympics. She can do a perfect cartwheel and laughs at you when you can't. She lays her palm against yours and her fingers are long and graceful but her hand looks so small. She calls you 'Big Daddy' sometimes to tease you, and you secretly like it. She looks so pretty when she wears anything pink. She unbuttons your jeans when you're flat on your back underneath the kitchen sink trying to fix a dripping pipe and you ask 'now?' and she says 'yes'. She can be a sore loser and you can't tease her about it, either. She wants to go to Italy and you're going to take her there but she doesn't know it yet. If she can't fall asleep, she wants you to talk to her because she says your voice sounds like her dreams. She thinks she does a spot-on Ethel Merman. She says you're the only man on her list. When she's leaning over you with her hands on your chest and her eyes closed and her hair falling down, she's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. She's your compass, the magnetic force that holds together all the bits and pieces of your soul, she's the well you go to when your cup runs dry.