Once in the car, Jim pulled off the Pearl Jam shirt, his t-shirt underneath riding up so Pam could see smooth stomach. She resisted the impulse to touch it, and unbuttoned her flannel. "The next change of clothes will take place at our next venue," Jim said, handing her the blindfold again. Pam complied and felt the car engine rumble to life as Alanis Morrisette's voice filled the car.

"God, this was so popular my sophomore year," commented Pam. "Yeah, it creeped me out then and it creeps me out now that these songs are all about Dave Coulier," answered Jim.

Pam laughed and tried to picture where Jim was driving. He should be making a right any moment now if he were heading to her old high school; but instead, he made a left and continued for far too long, moving onto a main street in the opposite direction. "Where are we going?" she asked, "This doesn't feel like the way to my high school."

"All will be revealed in good time. The Committee for Fun Birthdays never reveals its secrets." said Jim, as Alanis ended and Hootie and the Blowfish came on.

"You're not taking me to an art museum to show me a painting you did of me, are you?" asked Pam, "Because I don't care that that's one of my favorite movies, that's still really stalkery!"

She heard Jim laugh. "No, but I plan on spending my life savings on diamond earrings for you, and I plan on telling you that you look good wearing my future," he said, and she smiled. She loved that Jim understood all of her movie references. It hadn't been like that before, and she still found it hard to believe that she could be with someone who loved the same things as she. It just felt so right, and she reached over to squeeze Jim's knee.

"Watch your hand there, you're getting a little friendly for someone just out of eighth grade," said Jim. "Hey, you already kissed me," she said, "In my book, that gives free reign for knee-squeezing."

"You're lucky I've matured somewhat, or I'd give you a horsebite, like this," said Jim, reaching over and squeezing her knee, making her squeal. "That tickles! My brother used to torture me with that one," she said. "Well, then, I'll stop, I don't want any Freudian associations to form in your mind," said Jim, finally turning the car as a Dave Matthews Band song began.

"God, my friend Brad was so into this band, and he always said he was going to get a tattoo of ants marching around his ankle in tribute to this song," she said.

"We're here," he said, and Pam opened her door, waiting for him to untie her blindfold. She had no idea where they were, but she heard lots of cars and people, so wherever it was, they weren't alone. Jim untied her blindfold, she looked around, blinking.

"We're at your old high school?" she asked, spotting a sign. "Yup, here you go; this was my favorite in high school," said Jim, handing her a Dunmore High sweatshirt. She pulled it over her head. "It's so soft and it smells like you," she said happily. "Yeah, I don't wash my clothes," said Jim seriously, looking pleased that she was so delighted with it.

Pam slid her hands up into the sleeves and watched as Jim slid on his old varsity jacket. "It's time to party like it's 1997," he said, putting his arm around her and pulling her to his side as they started to walk towards the back of the school. "You're like one of those sad people who never gets over high school and goes back to the football games every year," Pam snickered, and Jim grinned. "You've got me, actually," he said, and as they rounded the corner, Pam saw that there was a football game already in progress.

Jim led her up to the concession stand and purchased tickets and hot dogs. He handed Pam her hot dog with a smile, and Pam found that she was genuinely looking forward to being at a game with him. She and her friends had gone all the time, and though they didn't really pay much attention to the games themselves, it was still a really good time. They clanged up the bleachers in the students section, attracting many glances from the students, all whom looked confused. Several smirked as they saw Jim's jacket.

"I guess they don't recognize the star of the basketball team when they see him," whispered Pam as they found a spot. "Sadly, they were all in kindergarten when that actually happened," whispered Jim, "And I never said I was the star. Second best, maybe."

They watched as the first quarter ended and the second one began. Jim seemed impressed with Pam's football knowledge, asking, "Where did you learn all this?" She just looked at him, and he looked down. "Oh, right," he said, looking slightly abashed.

"I like this so much better," she said, sliding even closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder, "You understood me better in the first week I knew you than he ever did." She reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his. His other arm snaked around her waist, and before she even knew what was happening, they were kissing. She was thinking about how fantastic it was to finally really kiss him after an entire day of wanting desperately to, when she heard a kid behind them say, "Get a room!"

They broke apart, Jim's face as red as Pam's felt. "Let's go," he said, grabbing her hand and jogging down the metal stairs. They reached the ground, and instead of heading left toward the parking lot, he pulled her to the right, underneath the bleachers. "What exactly are we doing?" asked Pam, and Jim shushed her.

"Come here and I'll show you," he said, grinning, pulling her towards him and kissing her. Pam found this very agreeable and slid her hands into his hair, leaning back onto a pole. They made out like a pair of teenager until Jim slid his hands to cup Pam's face and his arms pressed against her sweatshirt. She broke the kiss to burst out laughing. "I know that trick! I know what you're doing!" she cried, and Jim blushed red. "That is a secret that no female is ever supposed to know," he said, laughing at her delight. "Let's move on, since you're not letting me put my best moves on you."

They headed back around the school, just as halftime was starting. "Hey, we can do the awesome back pocket walk," said Pam, sliding her hand into Jim's back pocket; he did the same. "Don't get me wrong, you have a very nice butt that I very much enjoy, but this is the most awkward way to walk ever," she said. "Agreed," said Jim, as they heard the cheerleaders start their halftime show.

"Are you disappointed that I wasn't a cheerleader?" asked Pam, smiling, knowing she was goading him. "Of course not, you know I love you just they way you are," he said, picking her up around the waist and staggering toward the car. Pam laughed and struggled. "Put me down, you'll hurt your back!" she cried, and Jim scoffed, "What, with all twelve pounds of you?"

They reached the car and he set her down; she was still smiling from him saying he loved her. She marveled how fantastic it was to hear, every single time he said it.  She climbed into the car and tied on the blindfold. She held his hand as they drove, moving slightly to the music, and very soon, they had stopped again. Pam climbed out of the car and Jim untied the blindfold. "Your parents' house?" she asked, smiling. "Pit stop and change of costume," he said, hoisting two duffel bags out of the car.

He led her into the house. His mother was in the living room, smiling knowingly. "Hi Pam," she said as Jim led her down the hall to the bathroom. "Here you go," he said, handing her one of the bags, and she went into the bathroom.

 She shut the door and unzipped the bag; inside, she found a pink dress she had worn in her cousin's wedding six years ago. She slipped it on, smiling at herself in the mirror. She pulled her ponytail down and refashioned it into a messy knot, because after all, it was obviously prom night. She slid on the shoes she found in the bottom of the bag and touched up her lip gloss.  

She left the bathroom and saw Jim's old bedroom door was closed. She snuck it open, and saw him buttoning a dress shirt.  "Hey, you look great," he said, smiling, and she crossed over to kiss him. "We can't, my mom will catch us," he said pleadingly, and he finished getting dressed. Pam watched him from the bed, admiring how little the room must have changed since he had lived in it.

"Ready?" he asked, pulling on his tux coat. "Can't we just stay here for a little while?" asked Pam, flopping on her back onto the bed. “I’ll bet you never had a high school girl in your bed before," she continued, and Jim laughed. "That didn't quite sound like I meant it to," said Pam, grudgingly getting up.

They walked back down the hall and out the front door. "Oh my God," exclaimed Pam happily, when she spotter her parents, who were standing next to the Halperts. Her mom and Mrs. Halpert had their cameras out, and Pam blushed when Jim presented her with a corsage. "You're insane," said Pam as he slid the white roses onto her wrist. "Let's get some photos before it gets any darker," said Mrs. Halpert, and the parents all smiled as Jim and Pam arranged themselves in front of the garden in true prom fashion.  Pam loved that their mothers were getting really into it, posing them and snapping photos, their fathers looking on and smiling.

"We should get going," said Jim, and they exchanged their goodbyes. Jim shook hands with her dad, and her dad joked, "Take good care of my little girl and have her home by midnight."

Pam's mother gave her a hug and whispered, "Honey, this one's a keeper." Pam blushed and nodded her agreement. "I'll do my best," she whispered back, and Jim held out his arm to her.

Back in the car, they drove off, their parents waving their goodbyes. "Doesn't it disturb you that they're all back there alone together?" asked Pam. "Nah, they got along really well at the fourth of July picnic. I'm sure they'll talk about us for a little while, but we can't possibly be that interesting," replied Jim, glancing at her. "You really do look fantastic," he said, "We need to do more things that involve you dressing up."

"Hey, I don't mind Tuxedo Jim, either, you're not so bad yourself," she replied. "It's my dad's, but it fits me pretty well, I think," said Jim, straightening his tie in the rearview mirror at a stop sign.

Back at the high school, Pam was unsurprised to see Jim pull out the CD player and disco light, plus a paper bag. "Come on, let's sneak in before the football game's over," he said, holding open the door for her. He led her down the dark hall toward the gym. Once inside, she hung back as he plugged in the light and CD player. Soon, the room was softly lit, and a slow song was playing. Jim crossed over to her, holding out his hand in invitation. "This is going to be so much better than junior high,” he said, pulling her close, "We can actually touch this time."

She slid her arms around his neck and her head fit perfectly under his chin. For five slow, dreamy songs they swayed, sometimes kissing, sometimes just dancing, eyes closed and moving together. "This is the last one," said Jim quietly, "I cheated, this wasn't from high school, but it always reminds me of you and that night in the parking lot with my iPod."

"Yeah, I was so nice to you the next day and told you that swaying isn't dancing," she said, sighing at the memory of it. "Well, I hope I'm proving you wrong," he said, and she kissed him in response, which he seemed to like.

They didn't stop moving until the song ended, and then they slowed down to a standstill. "I guess we should go," whispered Pam, and Jim squeezed her. "I know what's next, and that's the only way I would agree with you," he answered.

He gathered up the CD player and light, and before they left, he opened the paper bag and handed Pam a champagne glass. "Your prom favor," he said, and she held it up to the hallway light to see "Second Chance Prom, September 15, 2007" written in Jim's neatest cursive in Sharpie. "Aw, thanks," she said, smiling happily as they walked back to the car. "Yeah, I like the way we got champagne glasses and beer glasses as favors, yet they pushed the no drinking thing," said Jim as he opened her car door. Stragglers from the football game gave them strange glances, and Pam supposed they looked ridiculous in their formal clothes.

Back in the car, Pam put the blindfold on, looking forward to what came next. If it was half as nice as the dancing had been, it would still be fantastic. She leaned back on the car seat as Jim drove. "Did you manage to find all the one-hit wonders from the mid-to-late '90s?" she asked, as one song ended and another began. "Hey, I just did my job," he said. 

They drove smoothly and quickly, so Pam supposed they might be on the freeway. After a few moments, Jim seemed to exit, and eventually the road got a bit bumpier and quiet. "Where are we now?" asked Pam as the car juddered to a stop, Jim pulling out the keys.

"Should I get out now?"

Jim reached behind her head to take off the blindfold. "Nope, this takes place in the car," he said, and she looked out the window. The sun had gone down completely, but she could still see the scenery.

"Are we at Lake Scranton?" she asked, craning her neck to look out his window. "Yup," he said.

"Is there a change of clothes?" asked Pam. "Nah, I think it'll be more fun in these clothes," he said, and she was slightly confused. "Why exactly are we here?" she asked, and Jim laughed.  "Little Pam, so naive. You should probably stop talking, or I'll never let you get to second base," he said, and all of a sudden she felt silly for not understanding.

She grinned and climbed into the backseat. "You learn quickly, young padawan," said Jim, "What did you think teenagers did at Lake Scranton on prom night?"

Before he climbed to the backseat, he advanced the CD a few more tracks. "This is cheesy, but I thought it might help," he said. Peter Gabriel's voice filled the car, and they were soon both quite distracted, neither of them noticing when the CD ended.

Some time later, Pam found herself sitting up; their clothes were considerably rumpled, but they were smiling. She leaned her head against Jim's shoulder and looked out at the moonlit water. "I never thought Lake Scranton would hold so many memories for me," she said softly.

"Yeah, me neither," said Jim in the same tone, slowly stroking her arm. "I think the beach day with work was the closest I ever came to knowing what you felt like when I told you how I felt at that Casino Night. I know it wasn't the same, but I really saw how you felt, and I couldn't keep ignoring the fact that I felt the same way as I ever did."

"Really?" asked Pam, even though she knew the answer. However close they were, they still steered clear of some painful subjects; aside from a few late night talks, they hadn't discussed what had happened between Jim and Karen and Pam and Roy. Pam thought it was a strange and somewhat lovely thing that though she knew that Roy was absolutely not the one for her, she could still feel a twinge of empathy for him and still remember their shared past. She had to remind herself of this on the rare occasions when Jim mentioned Karen, telling herself that he still loved Pam more than he ever liked Karen.

"Of course. I tried to convince myself that you had moved on, and tried to tell myself that she was a good fit for me, but it just didn't work. You're just...perfect, and I couldn't deny it any more when you said those things here."

Pam squeezed his hand. "I'm not perfect," she said.

"Maybe not, that's up for debate, but you're absolutely perfect for me. You just... get me. You always have, and I think I get you, too, and that's why I love you more than I've ever loved anything," he said, looking down at her, and she thought his eyes looked bright. She reached both arms around and pulled him into a tight hug. "I love you, too," she said into his neck. "I know, and that's the best feeling in the world," he said as they broke apart.

They smiled at each other for what seemed like a long time, until Jim patted her knee. "We'd better keep going," he said, "or else we'll be stuck in high school and we'll never be sure if it would have worked out long-distance in college."

Pam smiled and he handed her the bag with her clothes in it. They managed to change clothes in the car, though Jim's long legs gave him some trouble, and Pam laughed at him. As they pulled back onto the dirt road, Jim changed CDs. "Dave Matthews Band. We must be in college now," said Pam, and they held hands.

Back on the highway, Jim made her put on the blindfold, and she had absolutely no idea where they would end up. Her college years had been pretty uneventful, mostly hanging out with Roy and his friends, and she hadn't even gotten her degree, petering out in her junior year to work full time. She was embarrassed by this, but when she said it aloud it to Jim, he just squeezed her hand. "I sometimes think degrees are overrated. Look where my English degree got me, I'm selling paper," he said, and she laughed. "But if it's something that you want to do, you should do it. Figure out what you want to do and then just go for it."

"You're amazing, you know that?" asked Pam, patting his knee. "You're the best cheerleader I've ever had."

"And definitely the sexiest," replied Jim, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "Hey, we're here," he said, and the car parked. "Where are we?" Pam asked as she pulled off the blindfold. "My buddy Jason's little brother Eric's house. This is our first college party, Beesly."

"Nice," she said, as they walked up the front steps. Jim rang the bell, and let himself in. There was loud music playing, and people milling around with cups of beer.

"Hey Eric," said Jim to a dark- haired guy who looked to be around twenty or twenty-one. "Hey Jim!" said Eric, and he smiled at Pam. "This is my girlfriend Pam," said Jim, and she shook hands with Eric. "Nice to meet you. There's beer and food over there," Eric said, pointing toward the kitchen.

They thanked him and walked over to the keg. "Everyone here looks so little!" whispered Pam. "Are we that old?" Jim grinned. "Probably. I've known Eric since he was about six, so it feels really weird to be drinking with him. He does this a few times a month, I've come with Jason a couple of times."

He handed Pam a beer, and they wandered through the little house. Most people smiled at them, and Pam blushed when a few of the guys grinned and stared at her. "Why do they keep looking at me?" she whispered, "It's weird."

"Maybe you remind them of their mothers," Jim whispered back. She mock-glared at him. "Pam, you're totally hot, that's why they're looking at you."

Pam blushed again and looked down. She was just wearing jeans and a fitted blue t-shirt, but maybe she carried herself differently now. She smiled at Jim and tossed her ponytail.

They went into the living room and watched the Wii boxing tournament happening there, and Jim even joined in, ultimately losing to one of Eric's roommates. Jim was slightly out of breath after, so they edged out of the living room to get some air. "I'm sorry the Wii is here, that's definitely an anachronism. I was afraid it's be like Christopher Reeve and that penny, and we'd be snapped back to reality and I'd go into a coma and die," said Jim, sipping his beer. "Did you actually just describe 'Somewhere in Time'?" giggled Pam, "You're such a dork."

"The fact that you know what I'm talking about makes you equally as dorky," said Jim.

"Hey, it's one of my mom's favorite movies," said Pam, and Jim laughed. "I don't even have that excuse. I just really loved Superman when I was younger, and watched all of Christopher Reeve's movies."

Pam laughed at him and he looked down the hall. "Come here," he said, and pulled her into a dark bedroom. "It smells like boy in here," said Pam. "We can still make out," said Jim, and he began to kiss her. "What if someone finds us?" asked Pam, pulling away. "Then they'll be really jealous of me," said Jim, pulling her against him and kissing her again.

They emerged a half hour later, slightly disheveled and smiling. "Do you want another beer?" asked Jim, and Pam shook her head. "Nah, cheap beer isn't doing it for me either," he said. "Ready for the next place?"

"There's more?" asked Pam, who had expected the party to be the final place, since it was getting late in the evening. "Yeah, well, we've still got a few more years to go. One more stop," said Jim as they moved toward the front door.

They drove in companionable silence, and when Pam got out of the car, she heard downtown sounds. Jim untied the blindfold, and she saw that they were standing in front of a microbrewery that had just opened a few months previously. "Nice, I've wanted to try this!" Pam exclaimed, looking in the window. "Yeah, well, what better way to transition into our twenties than snobby beer and an emo singer?" asked Jim.

The hostess sat them in a booth, and they could see the singer setting his equipment up on stage as they opened the menus. Pam found that she was starving and decided on a burger. The beer choices were numerous and all sounded good. "I have no idea which one to pick," said Pam, looking at the list again. "Let's get the sampler; I'll have two and you can have three," said Jim. 

"Will you be okay to drive?" asked Pam anxiously. "Yeah, lightweight, some of us are fine after a couple of drinks," said Jim, giving her a mischievous smile that made her blush.

They ordered their food and drinks as the singer came out onstage and began his set, playing an acoustic guitar and singing, apparently about his brother's drug addiction. "His name is Emory Allister?" asked Jim, "He has emo right in his name!"

"Maybe he decided that was his only obvious career path," whispered Pam, "Or maybe he changed his name."

"Yeah, his name is probably Rocky or Butch," whispered Jim, and both giggled. "Or, like, Gerald."

"Oh my God, did he just say that this next song is about global warming?" asked Pam. "He did, and if the next song is not about the war, I'll give you five dollars," replied Jim, grinning.

Emory Allister finished the song with a plaintive, "As her children, we've got to take care of Mother Earth..." and Pam snorted into her little glass of apricot wheat beer. Emory continued, "This next song is about the Holocaust, and it's also about you and me."

Jim threw up his hands in mock defeat and Pam laughed and almost choked on her turkey burger, hoping that the singer couldn't see her in the darkness. Jim reached for his wallet and gave her the five dollars, which she pocketed gleefully. "Okay, I'll give you a chance to win it back if the next song is about the war," she said, and he nodded. "If it's not, I'll buy dessert," he said.

"This next song is a song I wrote about slavery," said Emory from the stage, and Pam raised her hands in victory. "Start ordering, Beesly," said Jim, laughing and shaking his head before getting up and excusing himself to the restroom.

Pam's dessert was brought out with a candle on top as Emory's song ended, and all the faces turned towards her. "I'd like to wish my beautiful girlfriend Pam a happy 21st birthday," said Jim, standing up and addressing the other patrons. Emory strummed his guitar and everyone sang 'Happy Birthday' to her, some raising their glasses of beer.

She was bright red as they finished and Jim sat down, smiling happily at her. "I'd like to dedicate my next song to Pam, for it's about the beauty of life as it relates to the horrors of the war," said Emory, and Jim cheered loudly.  Pam felt like her face would split from smiling. She was dizzy from the beer and the singing and her life felt simply perfect.

"Let's go home," he said, "I'll show you what adults do after college."

She raised an eyebrow suggestively. "And that would be..."

"Cuddling in bed and falling asleep to a Christopher Guest movie we've seen a dozen times, of course," said Jim, and she nodded. "That's perfect," she said, getting up a little unsteadily.

They left the restaurant, Jim's arm around her waist.  "This is the best day ever," she said to him, and he patted her hand. "We'll have lots more like this, I promise," he said, and she knew he was right.

Pam arrived at work on Wednesday still smiling about the weekend. The seemingly requisite bouquet of carnations was on her desk; Michael could be thoughtful, if not overly imaginative.

She looked at the card with the flowers and read, "Hey girlfriend, I got you something small for your birthday!" She opened the card and saw a shirtless, muscular young man in very tight cutoff shorts and the words "Make that something BIG!" Underneath, Michael had written, "Bet you wish Jim looked like this, ha ha. May the road rise up to meet you, and may the wind be always at your back. Love your BIG boss Michael." 

Pam sighed, amazed that someone could be so sweet and offensive at the same time. Jim walked out of Michael's office, smiling widely, leaning over her desk to kiss her. Phyllis smiled appreciatively from her desk and gave Pam the thumbs-up. "Michael's been reading inspirational websites again," said Pam, holding out the card. "Wow, I didn't realize you were attracted to Never Nudes. I've been doing this all wrong," said Jim, shaking his head at the card.

"No, I like your style much better," she said, raising an eyebrow, and he blushed. "Come on, let's go. I told Michael we're going on a coffee run."

"He's okay with that?"

"Well, he said he's not sure that Starbucks has 'free trade agreement' coffee, so I told him we'd stop and get him a milkshake. He liked that, he says the calories won't count if he doesn't buy it."

"Nice."

They had arrived outside and Jim led her over to his car. Once inside, he handed her a stack of presents, his face like a little kid's, or maybe Michael's on Christmas morning. "I thought last Saturday was my present," said Pam, "And also we're going out to dinner tonight, don't you want to wait until then?"

"No, I'm tired of waiting, and these aren't big presents or anything. Go ahead!"

"Nice girls open the card first," said Pam, slipping her fingernails under the envelope flap. Inside was a card that had a cartoon kitten in a little pink dress, with the words "Happy 1st Birthday to a Very Special Girl". She opened the card and read, "September 19, 1980. Happy 1st birthday Pam. This was a big year for both of us, you got born and learned to walk, and I learned to walk and talk and climb stairs, and I have the bump on my head to prove it. All my love, Jim."

Pam looked up, and Jim handed her the first present. She opened it and opened the box inside, which contained a stack of cards in envelopes. "There's one for every birthday," he said, and she just stared. "You're not supposed to make me cry this early in the morning," she said, replacing the lid. "Read them later," he said, and gave her the next present.

The second present was a set of two homemade CDs, and when she read the back of them, she found every song they had listened to on Saturday, plus a few more, beginning with Madonna's "This Used to Be My Playground" and finishing with Travis's "Sing."

"It's the soundtrack for our life, now you can listen to cheesy '90s music any time you want," said Jim, in a joking tone, but when she looked up, his eyes looked slightly anxious, as if she wouldn't like anything he gave her. "I love it!" said Pam, "You made it, so it's perfect." She knew she'd never listen to it with anything but delight, that had been a golden day and now she'd have good memories associated with each song.

The third present was much larger, and when Pam unwrapped it, Jim's high school sweatshirt fell out. "Seriously, I get to keep it?" she asked, sniffing it. "It still smells like you, even after I wore it!"

"Well, it was my favorite shirt ever in high school, and I wanted you to have something I really loved," he said, smiling at her. "Are you trying to win the Dundie for Most Perfect Boyfriend Ever?" she asked, only half teasing.

"Nah, I just wanted you to have a memorable birthday. This is the first one we're celebrating together," he said, handing her the last present. "I don't know if this is crossing the line from being charming to utterly cheesy."

Pam opened it and just stared for a moment. It was a picture frame with five slots; on the top two, Jim had put pictures of Little Jim and Pam. Pam recognized her kindergarten school picture, ribbon in her ringlets and a smocked dress. Jim had a shaggy bowl haircut and was wearing a sweater vest, and tears filled Pam's eyes as she recognized the same look of wide-eyed apprehension on both baby faces, as though neither was sure of what was going on.

Her eyes moved down to the bottom two, and she began to laugh as a couple of tears escaped and slid down her cheeks. The school pictures there were much worse; Pam's eighth grade self smiled awkwardly up at her, bushy hair gathered in a denim scrunchie, wearing a flannel shirt and smiling through braces. Jim looked as goofy as she did, except that his hair was shorter and made his ears look big.

The big picture in the middle made her want to cry again; someone had snapped it on the Fourth of July. Jim and Pam were sitting across from each other at a picnic table, looking right at each other and grinning, their hands twined together on the tabletop. "This is amazing," she said softly. "How did you do it?"

"I had some help from your mom, and my sister gave me the big picture, " he said, "I hoped it wouldn't be too lame."

"No, it's fantastic, I love all of it," she said, looking at him. "I can't tell you how much it means to me that you've done all of this for me. You're so thoughtful, it's almost like dating a girl!"

Jim smiled and took her hands. He started to look a little nervous, which made her stomach twinge a little with worry. "I just wanted to say something," he said, looking at her, and her heart started to beat a little faster. He took a breath and continued, "I know we don't talk about stuff like the future very often, and I know we don't want to rush into anything, but I just wanted you to know that I have never loved anyone or anything as much as I love you, and the reason that it didn't matter as much to me that we didn't grow up together is that I plan on spending every single day of my life with you. I tried living without you, and it just isn't going to work for me. You're absolutely the one I want to be with forever, and I know I sound like a dork, but it's true."

Tears filled Pam's eyes again as she threw her arms around his neck. "You're not a dork!" she said into his hair, "I love you too, and it's just so easy to be in love with you, and I can't wait to be with you forever either!"

Jim squeezed her and they broke apart, grinning rather redly at each other. "We're a pair of dorks," Jim said, and he laced his fingers through hers. Pam laughed. "I meant what I said. It really is easy to be with you, and you're my best friend and I love you," she said simply, and his smile made her stomach twirl pleasantly. "Come on, birthday girl, let's go," he said, and he started the car. As they drove, Pam traced her thumb on his hand, eyes closed and thinking her own lovely thoughts. Maybe Jim really was a 'sweater and CD' type of guy, only a little better.