I. Table

Jim and Pam wandered slowly through the aisles of the giant discount store. Jim was pushing the cart, and both of them clutched small pieces of paper, which they consulted frequently.

"What's next on your list?" Pam said, her forehead slightly creased. "Everything else I need is on the other side of the store."

"I need..." Jim read down his list quickly. "Laundry detergent." Pam chuckled a little bit, but her smile was wistful rather than amused. "What's the matter?" Jim asked, concerned.

"Oh, nothing. Just...I was thinking how sad buying laundry soap and fabric softener made me while you were gone...you know, in Stamford." Pam gave him a half-smile, as if in apology for saying something so foolish. Jim didn't know what she was apologetic about, though; actually, he had no idea what she was talking about whatsoever.

"Seriously? Why?"

Pam looked surprised. "You don't remember? That day we went to the store and bought presents because we thought Kevin might be sick. You bought fabric softener and I was teasing you about it? Wow, you have no idea what I am talking about, do you?"

"Sorry." Jim's whole face scrunched up as he tried to think. "I remember Kevin waiting for the test results...wait, was that the time you talked on the PA system?"

"Yes. Which I still can't believe you got me to do, by the way." Pam laughed, and Jim was relieved to see her real smile- the one that lit up whole rooms and whole days for him. Still, the shadow remained in her eyes, and he took her hand.

"I'm sorry it made you sad to remember that day," he said softly.

"Well, lots of things made me sad when you were gone," she said. She was still smiling, though, and Jim realized with relief that it no longer hurt to talk about those days, for either of them. Pam went on, "I mean, seriously, everything reminded me of you. Everything. It was getting ridiculous."

"'Everything’? Really? I doubt that."

"Really. Name something. I'm not kidding." She wasn't kidding; he could see that, although she was wearing the challenging expression she got at the beginning of a game or a prank. If that was how she was going to be, well, then...

"Fine." He looked around at the cluttered chaos of the store. He spotted patio furniture stacked neatly in the middle of the aisle. "A table."

"A table?" Pam asked incredulously. "That's the best you got? Try every table, Halpert. Every table in the office, because I had memories of sitting with you at all of them. Every table in any restaurant, because either I was eating alone or eating with someone I wished was you. The table at my Mom's house at Christmas, because all I wanted was for you to be there. My kitchen table...in my one kitchen ...every meal. Every time I sat there, I thought about how you should be there." She paused. "And random patio tables at Wal-Mart? Easy. That would have reminded me of your barbecue, and how you really needed more food and more table space." She looked into his eyes, looking very serious for just a second before she broke into a triumphant grin.

"Wow." Even now, after all these months together, it was incredible for Jim to think about Pam missing him as much as he had missed her, and he felt himself fall even farther in love with her. Of course, he also couldn't resist teasing her. "I had no idea you associated me so strongly with tables, Pam."

She shook her head. "Not tables, dummy. I told you. It was everything. Everything reminded me of you. Now, let's get your laundry soap." She headed off in the direction of the next aisle. Jim admired the view for a second before following behind.

II. Pineapple

They'd successfully secured laundry detergent and dental floss before heading off into the produce section. Pam's list had stated "fresh fruit," and he watched her seriously contemplating the various varieties of apples for a few minutes before approaching her.

"Pam, I'm flattered," he said. "But I'm still not buying this claim of 'everything' reminding you of me." He actually did believe her. He remembered the days and nights apart, in which he couldn't go a full minute without thinking about her eyes, her lips, her laugh. It was, however, a fun game to play, and if it gave Jim a chance to bask in her love for him...well, so much the better.

Pam caught the teasing in his voice, and gave him another challenging smile in return. "I'm hurt. Really. But I'm serious."

"OK, then," Jim said. "How about....pineapple?" He pointed to a stand full of the ugly fruits a few feet away.

"You're joking," Pam said. She honestly looked perplexed.

"No, why?"

"Because of all the fruits in this place, that's probably the easiest. Meredith's birthday party, three years ago."

"Oh, crap," Jim said. "You're right." Pam shook her head in faux dismay, and returned to looking at apples. "But, seriously, Pam, does that really count? That's...hard to forget, but did it actually make you think of me?" Jim was looking for a loophole, ashamed of himself for not immediately thinking of the same incident.

"Of course it made me think of you. Who else was I standing with the whole time? And who tried to convince Dwight that it was me, and not Meredith herself, who made the virgin Pina Coladas loose their virginity? Hmm?" Pam was trying desperately not to laugh.

"I also believe, Mr. Halpert, that you're the one who scarred me for life by telling me what drunk Michael was trying to do with the pineapple rings in the men's room." She shuddered, and finally gave way to her laughter. "So pineapples would have made me think of that day, and how much we laughed, and I'd have been sad because I didn't have you to laugh with anymore. I'm afraid that one was much, much too easy, but it's no use trying to stump me. Everything, Jim. Everything reminded me of you."

III. Force

Jim continued up the aisles, pointing at random things. Pam rose to the challenge, telling Jim exactly how the items had reminded her of Jim while he was away. Eggs made her think of the time Michael had sent them out for breakfast burritos for the office; moisturizer made her think of his skin. Even when he pointed to the men’s underwear aisle, she didn’t back down. "What can I say?" she giggled, blushing but looking right into his eyes. "I have a vivid imagination."

"Pam! I’m shocked!" Jim exclaimed mockingly. Although he was teasing her, he actually was shocked, just a little. Not that he was surprised that she thought of him in that way (she’d demonstrated that in wonderfully passionate and creative ways that had surprised him), but that she’d been thinking of him that way for so long.

They continued through the labyrinthine store, but Jim didn’t resume the game. Instead, he drifted into a thoughtful silence as he watched Pam shop. Again and again she surprised him with the depth and intensity of her feelings for him. It was hard to believe that this was the same person who had turned him away all those months ago.

He was lost in these thoughts when Pam looked back to find out why he was lagging behind. "You OK?" she asked.

"Yep. I was just thinking about you being here, being reminded of me, while I was away, being reminded of you." He caught up with her and reached for her hand. It was soft and warm in his, and he thought about how many times he’d wanted to do that, that simple thing, and what a wonderful gift it was to be able to.

Pam smiled thoughtfully. "Hmm. Maybe we were thinking about each other at the exact same time," she said mildly.

Jim could tell that Pam was concerned about his shift in mood, and he deliberately lightened his tone as he replied. "That’s entirely possible. Maybe we both saw a table at the same time, and it was just…like magic. A psychic bond, even."

"I prefer to think of it as us both having the Force with us, actually," Pam said.

"Ooh, nice one." Jim stopped, and leaned down close to Pam’s ear. "Maybe you can lure me to the ‘dark side’ when we’re done here," he said softly.

"Jim, I’m shocked!" Pam laughed, echoing his earlier tone, but Jim could see in her eyes that she liked his train of thought. She absently ran her fingers along the edge of the can of soup she was holding she held his gaze. He was sure he’d be reminded of how beautiful she was every time he saw chicken noodle soup for the rest of his life.

IV. Court 

The intimate promise in Pam’s expression galvanized Jim into action. "Let’s get this shopping done. We don’t want to be here all night," he said with an unmistakable leer.

Pam laughed and maneuvered in front of Jim, putting the soup can into the shopping cart and heading down past the pasta and jars of sauce. "Oh, why not? If we’re up too late, we can just call in sick tomorrow. Stay home all day being bums and watching bad daytime television."

"Is there any other kind? You are well aware of my opinion on this subject, Pam. Trashy talk shows and ‘The People’s Court’ are not my idea of quality entertainment."

"In fact, I am aware of that. Which is why every time I so much as see a commercial for a TV court show, it reminds me of you." Pam was apparently not ready to give up the game. Jim laughed and decided to take on the challenge.

"TV court reminds you of me? Considering how very much I hate it, I guess that’s acceptable. But what about other kinds of courts? I defy you to make a connection." His tone was matter-of-fact, but Jim was not only enjoying himself, he was actually getting into competitive mode. These sorts of games could go on for days between them. They shared a sense of what was fun, and they both had stubborn, competitive streaks that made them perfect friendly adversaries.

Pam tossed her head scornfully. "Please. You defy me? How’s this? Legal courts make me think of that time we both watched that re-run of Law and Order and how it made us both think of Creed. Tennis courts make me think of you because you hate tennis, and basketball courts make me think of you because you love basketball. You’re also good at it and look hot when you play." She smiled pleasantly as Jim blushed. Embarrassed, he looked down at the cart. Pam had been putting items in the cart as she rattled off her examples. Jim noticed his favorite brands of spaghetti sauce, his favorite cereal, and a jar of dill pickles, which he knew Pam hated.

"Hey," he said.

"Hmm?"

"You don’t have to buy this stuff. I mean, you don’t have to just get stuff that I like."

Pam tilted her head and looked up at him. "I know. But I like you, so I want to make you happy." Before he could find the right words to answer, she turned around and continued her litany. "Royal courts remind me of the day that Michael decided that he was King of the branch, and of course that makes me think of you because you called me Michael’s lady-in-waiting because I was waiting and waiting for him to sign those expense reports. And then you called me "milady," all day, and I never told you but I really liked that."

"Really?"

"Yep. And, let’s see. Oh, OK, court, like, courtship, like dating? That reminds me of you because of the horrified look on your face the day that Dwight announced that he was going to court the new secretary at Vance Refrigeration. I think that just about covers it."

Jim spread his hands in defeat. "OK. OK, I believe you. You win!"

Pam paused, looking contemplative for a moment. She turned and came back toward him with deliberate steps. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she raised up on tip-toe to plant a brief but firm kiss on his lips. "Yes, I believe I did," she said.

V. Lost 

Jim closed his eyes briefly, just to enjoy the feeling of Pam so close to him, and to revel in her words. After a deep breath, he looked down at her and they shared a smile of contentment.

"You about ready to go?" Pam asked.

"Yeah…I lost my shopping list somewhere after the produce department anyway," Jim replied.

Pam rolled her eyes and sighed in exaggerated exasperation. "What am I going to do with you?"

Jim leaned toward her. "Do you really want me to answer that?" he asked, his tone husky and suggestive. They laughed as they headed toward the check-out lanes.

As Jim finished putting their things onto the conveyer belt (after their normal bickering about who was paying for what), Pam looked idly through the "last minute" items featured there along with the candy and tabloids. He heard her laugh, and turned to see her grabbing a can of lock de-icer. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Even this!" she said by way of explanation. "See, this would totally have reminded me of you, because if anyone had had any, we wouldn’t have gotten stuck out at Slocum Park the night Michael made us all go sled riding. And then everyone wouldn’t have left without us, and you wouldn’t have gotten us lost on the way home." Jim felt himself flush, and he bit his lip as he debated whether or not he should actually say what had just popped into his mind.

Unfortunately, Pam had noticed his change in expression. "What?" Her eyes had narrowed in suspicion.

"Um. OK." Jim put the final package of paper towels on the belt before turning to face her. "I’ve been going to Frances Slocum park my whole life. We were never actually lost."

"Excuse me?" Somehow, Pam managed to give him a skeptical glare and still smile politely at the cashier as she paid for their groceries. She signed her receipt and walked out of the lane, waiting for Jim to catch up with the cart before she repeated herself. "Excuse me, what were you saying about us driving around in the dark for an hour not actually lost?"

"I liked having you all to myself for a while," Jim said, his body language and his tone clearly expressing embarrassment. He shrugged. "It was an adventure, and I could pretend…" he trailed off, avoiding her gaze.

"Hey," Pam’s voice had lost all trace of even the mildest reprimand. She placed her hand lightly on his arm. "It’s OK. I know. I mean, I know what it was like to pretend." He looked up into her eyes and was surprised to see a glint of amusement and even of embarrassment there. "And, um, I also know exactly how to get home from Frances Slocum Park. I wasn’t lost either."

VI. Rescue 

Jim shook his head in wonder. "You- really?"

"Mm-hmm." Pam continued out the electric-eye doors toward the parking lot. "I was having fun. It wasn’t that late, and I told myself that Roy wouldn’t care, and it was funny to watch you try to stay cool. Didn’t you think it was odd that I never suggested stopping somewhere for directions or calling someone to come rescue us?"

"Wow. And here I thought you just had so much trust in my navigational skills." Jim opened the trunk of his car and started loading their grocery bags.

"I have all the trust in the world in you," Pam said. She rested her head against his arm for a second before moving toward her car door.

A moment later, Jim slid into the driver’s seat. "Unbelievable," he said as he turned the key. "So we were driving around in the dark, both pretending we had no idea where we were heading when we both knew all along?" Pam laughed, a louder, heartier laugh than Jim thought the comment deserved. "What?" he asked in confusion.

"That’s just a perfect description of our whole friendship for the whole time before you went away," Pam answered, obviously amused. Jim glanced over at her; her eyes and the sparkly charm on the chain around her neck caught the lights from the dashboard and the on-coming cars.

Jim smiled ruefully. "Ouch. You’re totally right. I promise I wasn’t trying to get all metaphorical on you, though."

Pam reached over and placed her hand on Jim’s leg. He immediately covered it with his own. "We really should have called someone to come rescue us, huh?" she said, her smile still evident in her voice.

Jim squeezed her hand lightly. They really didn’t talk about their past that much, but the silly game at the grocery store seemed to have given them the freedom to revisit their shared history. Still, humor came easier than self-reflection to Jim. "Like who? The fire department?"

"Hmph." With a single indistinct syllable, Pam conveyed amusement and dismissal of his attempt at humor. "Now that you mention it, though, the fire department also always reminded me of you," she said.

The game, apparently, had not ended when they left the store. "How so?"

"Well, every time I saw a fire truck or heard a siren, I’d think of the day that Ryan caught the office on fire, and how weird I felt that day because Roy was around and then Katy- I really didn’t like her, you know." Pam released his hand and started fidgeting with her necklace. "But anyway, yeah, I’d think about how that day could have been different if I’d have just been honest with myself about my feelings for you…so, fire trucks and other emergency and rescue vehicles remind me of you."

"I’m starting to think you have some issues, Pam," Jim said laughing.

VII. Sky 

Pam's laughter settled into an easy, comfortable silence. Still holding Jim's hand, she soon tilted her head and stared quietly out the window. The sun was setting quickly over Scranton, and Jim knew that she appreciated the vivid colors of the sunset even more than he did, with her artist's eye.

She soon confirmed that's what she was thinking about. "Look at that sky," she said softly, more to herself than to him.

"I'd rather watch you looking at it," Jim replied. He knew it embarrassed her when he said cheesy, romantic things like that, so he made a habit of doing so as often as possible. He loved the ways she blushed and laughed and rolled her eyes, trying to hide her pleasure at being appreciated. She did exactly that now, squirming in her seat and squinching up her nose at him. He loved teasing her, making her laugh, just enjoying being silly together. "I suppose you're going to tell me that the sky reminded you of me, now, too?" he continued.

Pam nodded. "Of course it did."

Jim nodded back at her. "I assume it was some sort of 'Fivel' thing, knowing we were underneath the same big sky?" He was struggling to keep his tone perfectly serious, his expression perfectly composed.

"Wow, it's like you're reading my mind," Pam replied with the same carefully matter-of-fact tone.

"I know you, Pam. You're an open book."

"Hmm, apparently so." Pam leaned over and nudged his arm gently with her shoulder, and he finally allowed himself to chuckle.

The easy silence resumed, Pam gazing rapt as the sky darkened while Jim watched the road, occasionally stealing glances at her. It was one of those moments that his feelings for her flooded up within him- the moments that led to him kissing her unexpectedly in the middle of the office, or sending her flowers for no apparent reason. He didn't know what came over him, why the high-tide of happiness that he was maintaining would sometimes overflow, but he knew that it was often in quiet, reflective moments when he could truly appreciate what he had now in contrast to his misery just a year before.

One of those moments came over him as Pam watched the sunset, and he started talking without any advanced thought of what he would say. "The sky used to remind me of you all the time, you know. Blue skies with fluffy clouds reminded me of the time you told me about pretending the clouds were sheep and you were Bo Peep. Cloudy skies were depressing, and when I felt depressed was when I thought about you the most, and how much I missed you. Night skies...well, clear nights made me remember the sky over the lake the night you and Roy got re-engaged on that boat. And cloudy nights reminded me of the parking lot when I put my foot in my mouth with the worst-timed confession of love ever. I actually tried really hard not to think about us being under the same sky. It hurt too much." Jim had kept his eyes resolutely on the road as all of this came tumbling out. He finished with a deep breath and looked briefly over at Pam.

She was no longer staring out the window, but instead regarding him with big, serious eyes. She squeezed his hand tighter and raised it to her lips. "I love you," she said simply against his skin.

VIII. Entourage

Darkness had fallen completely by the time they reached Jim's apartment. Although Pam's place was homier, Jim's kitchen was bigger and had more cabinet space, so most of their shared meals were eaten there. They each grabbed a few bags and trudged toward the door of the building. As Jim fumbled for his key, a group of five or six young guys burst out of the building, talking and laughing loudly. "Hey, Jim," one of them said as they all headed toward the parking lot.

"Hey," Jim answered. Jim held the door open for Pam as the voices of the young men receded behind them.

"Are those your new neighbors?" Pam asked. Her expression was a mix of amusement and alarm. The guys had been very loud.

"Yep. Well, just the one who said hi. The rest of them are always around, though."

"Ah, yes," Pam said. "His posse."

"I believe the kids call it an "entourage" these days," Jim replied.

"Silly me. Sort of like you and Andy and Dwight are Michael's entourage." Pam laughed as Jim made one of his "camera faces" as she liked to call them. She claimed he had a wide range of expressions he only used for the camera, but he thought she was crazy and told her so frequently.

"Ugh, don't remind me," he said with a shudder. "You know, he actually tried to convince me to move in with him? He said I could be Eric, and Dwight would be Turtle. He gave me a key and everything." Jim gestured with the set of keys he was now juggling to unlock the door without dropping anything.

Pam laughed. "You have a key to the condo?" Amazement and amusement mingled in her voice.

"Absolutely. In case I ever want to come over and, I believe his exact phrase was, 'bring hotties'."

"Oh, my God."

"Yeah."

Pam followed Jim into the darkened apartment, then laughed a small, incredulous laugh. "Huh," she said, as though to herself.

"What?"

"Oh, it's just that...honestly, I think house keys would not have reminded me of you while you were gone. I mean now, yes, between the day we traded them and now this fun story. But before- I think house keys would have made me think of Dwight."

Jim almost dropped his bag. "Excuse me?"

"Well, in a round-about way, I'm the one who suggested that Dwight give Angela a house key." Pam's smile turned into a frown. "I feel bad about those two. Angela was actually happy with Dwight, at least as happy as Angela gets."

Jim bobbed his head in agreement, flipping on lights as he moved through the apartment. "Yeah. I don't know what we can do about it, though. Or even if we should."

"I know." Pam started putting cold goods into the refrigerator. "Still..."

"'Still,' what?"

"I don't know...it's just the look he gives her sometimes. It..." she paused, her face suddenly sadder and more guarded than it had been since the game had started.

"What is it?"

"The look Dwight gives Angela sometimes- it really does remind me of you. From before."

Jim put the box of spaghetti noodles he was holding down onto the counter and walked over behind Pam. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin against the top of her head. "If they are anything like us, it'll work itself out," he said simply.

IX. Giant 

Pam leaned into Jim's kiss. "Do you really think they'll get back together?" she asked several long moments later.

"I don't know," Jim said seriously. Thinking about his answer, Jim watched Pam finish arranging the last few items in the pantry, and then followed her into the living room. He smiled as she plopped down into her favorite spot on his couch. He still marvelled at how comfortable she obviously felt here; she was actually, legitimately part of his life now.

Once they were settled, Jim continued his train of thought. "Dwight is really upset, but he did kill her cat, and Angela's not known for being the most forgiving person."

"True," Pam said. "I can't imagine being with someone who- I mean, random stuff reminds me of you, good or bad, but nothing is randomly reminding me that you murdered my pet. Still, it's just so sad. Dwight's really not such a bad guy."

Jim snaked his arm around Pam's shoulders. "Oh, you're just sweet on him for reading you Harry Potter." He tried to repress a smile as she immediately jerked free of his light embrace.

"That is a lie, Jim Halpert. That is a huge, giant lie. You take that back!" Jim thought that Pam's fake indignation, the way her eyebrows arched as she somehow smiled and frowned at the same time, was one of her prettiest expressions.

"A giant lie, Pam? Maybe even a Hagrid-sized lie?"

Pam grabbed the couch pillow from behind her and brandished it menacingly. "Take it back," she warned.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. I'm sorry if the truth hurts," Jim answered.

Pam took a swing. "Oh, something's going to hurt, all right," she laughed, pummeling Jim about the head and shoulders with the pillow. Laughing, Jim launched himself at Pam, gently pinning her under his weight and holding the pillow above her head.

"OK, OK," she giggled breathlessly. "Fine, you're right, I've got a thing for Dwight and his sweet Harry Potter-reading ways." Jim immediately released her, placing the pillow behind her head and planting a short kiss on her lips.

"See, now, was that so bad? Did that hurt?" he teased.

"Yes. It hurt my soul," she answered drily.

"Poor soul," Jim murmured, kissing her again, this time more gently and with purpose. Pam responded eagerly, but Jim kept talking between kisses. "Unfortunately," he said, "I think that is a giant lie."

Pam's giggling was soon smothered in kisses.

X. Vote 

Although Jim tried to remind Pam of her earlier wish to stay up too late and then call off work the next day, Pam insisted on leaving his place early so she could go home and get a good night's sleep. As he lay alone in his bed, he thought about all the memories they'd shared that day. They had been through so much, and it had brought them to the right place- together. Life was by no means perfect (he stifled a groan as he remembered the meeting Michael was planning for the next day to go over "dynamic sales techniques"), but he was with Pam, and that made everything else OK.

He had the same thought when he entered the office again the next day. Pam was wearing her fuzzy gray cardigan, the one her Mom had made for her, and he saw her absent-mindedly caressing the softness of the material of her sleeve as she smiled at him in greeting. He quickly noticed the mischief in her smile.

"Good morning. What's up?" he asked, assuming his normal leaning stance against her desk.

"Nothing. I just thought of the number one thing that reminded me of you when you were gone, that's all."

Intriguing.The look on her face told him plainly that she thought whatever she was about to say was hilarious. He took a jellybean from the bowl on Pam's desk and chewed it slowly and deliberately. "The number one thing, huh?" he finally said. "Something really dashing and romantic, no doubt."

Pam snorted a laugh."You know, I'm not sure I'd go that far."

"Well, please, do tell."

"The thing that reminded me of you every day while you were gone...was the back of Ryan's head."

Jim stood straight up. This, he had not expected. "What?"

Pam nodded. "He took your desk, remember? But he didn't sit facing me like you do- he was always turned around. And I know he used to catch me staring at him, sometimes, wishing you were there instead." Jim saw Pam's expression darken. Although he knew she was still teasing him, he also thought that she had surprised herself with how much this bit of the truth hurt. Her next words confirmed his suspicion. "It sucked, every time I looked up and it was him instead of you," she said.

Jim reached down and took Pam's hand lightly. "Pam? I refuse to let Ryan's head be the thing that reminds you of me the most." He kept his tone low and grave, and his fake solemnity had exactly the effect on Pam that he wanted. The amused light sprang back into her eyes almost instantly. It was the thing he was proudest of- his ability to make her smile.

"I'm sorry, Jim, but they're my memories. I'm afraid you don't get a vote."

Jim dropped her hand indignantly. "Excuse me? I beg to differ. I get a vote in everything you do from now on. I'm a registered Pamocrat, you know."

Pam groaned. "A registered Pamocrat? Wow." She shook her head in dismay at his corny new coinage.

"Yep. So I have a say in all your decisions. We'll conduct the debate over what you should eat for lunch promptly at noon."

Pam raised an eyebrow. "Is that a bi-partisan debate?," she asked. "You see, I've switched parties. After several months as an Independent, I've recently decided to become a Jimpublican. We're a lot more conservative." Her closed-mouth smile was a clear indication that she was fighting laughter. Jim lost the fight immediately, chuckling as he took his seat.

A few minutes later, he sent Pam an e-mail: I think that red number you wore last Tuesday night disqualifies you from ever being called conservative, Pam. I'd go so far as to call it Super Tuesday.

As he started his sales calls for the day, Jim could hear Pam laugh and then groan again. He considered that a concession.

XI. Night 

The rest of the day passed quickly enough. Pam spent the morning pointing out various things in the office that had reminded her of Jim in some way while he was gone: a stapler, the paper clip box, the actual paper, the conference room, the blue coffee cup he'd bought after he'd broken the old red one- she was inexaustible, much to his amusement. Then Dwight announced that he was starting a new fitness regime, and Jim entertained himself by asking questions and offering suggestions about that for most of the afternoon. Before he left the office for the day, he stopped by the reception desk, where Pam was straightening her things and powering down her computer for the night.

"What's the plan for this evening?" Jim asked. Pam smiled up at him. He asked her this almost every day because she liked it. She had told him she liked knowing that they would have plans, but preferred waiting to make actual arrangements until the last minute so it didn't feel like they were taking their time together for granted. "Would you like me to make you dinner with all the groceries you bought?"

"Oooh! Yes, please," Pam answered. "I have to stop by the library, first, though, and maybe I'll run home and change clothes, too. Is that OK?"

Jim nodded. "That gives me time to get dinner started. See you later." He rapped his knuckles on the desk and headed out.

Despite the cold and the recently-fallen darkness, Jim was sitting on the stoop when Pam finally arrived an hour later. He had the chicken tetrazzini in the oven and had decided to get some fresh air while he waited for her to show up. He watched her park her cute little car and walk toward him, eyeing him questioningly.

"Hey," he greeted her when she was within earshot. "I thought I'd wait out here for you."

"Hey, yourself." She sat down beside him and kissed his cheek lightly. "You look like a man doing some thinking. Everything OK?"

"Yep." Everything was fine, but all the memories she'd been bringing to mind over the last 24 hours had his brain in overdrive. "I was just remembering how nighttime made me think of you when I was up in Connecticut."

Pam smiled slightly. "'Night' reminded you of me? That's pretty broad, isn't it?" She shivered slightly, and Jim put his arm around her to pull her close.

"Not exactly. I mean, not like a stapler reminded you of me. Just..." he trailed off and looked up at the sky again. He sighed and continued, "It was different for me. Here, you were in the same place, so it was my desk or a cup that I bought. I had gone up there to get away from all of that sort of thing. I was trying not to remember." His voice had taken on an apologetic tone.

"I know," Pam said softly.

"So during the day, I was trying to focus on it being a different stapler, and a different conference room, and working really hard and meeting new people...but at night? It was just me and my quiet apartment and all of my memories of you."

Pam shifted in his arms. She placed her lips close to his ear. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and then kissed his cheek again.

Jim turned and looked Pam in the eye. "No, it's OK. I mean, it wasn't great, but..." he shrugged. "It's all behind us. I was just remembering."

She held his gaze, obviously trying to gauge if everything was really all right by the look in his eyes. Finally she nodded. "OK. But let's remember inside. I'm cold."

Laughing, Jim stood up, pulling Pam up along with him. "It is chilly out here. Come on, dinner should be almost ready."

They headed into the building. At the doorway, Pam grabbed his hand. "Hey," she said, and even in the dim glow of the streetlamp, Jim could see a naughty twinkle in her eye. "Maybe we should try to make some new night-time memories for you to associate with me." She winked and led him inside.

XII. Light

Pam stopped short upon entering the apartment. The only light was coming from the kitchen, in the back of the apartment. The living and dining rooms were shrouded in shadow, making the wonderful smell of the cooking dinner by far the most overwhelming sensation.

In the dimness, Jim saw Pam reaching confidently for the light switch. "Stop," he said softly. "Just wait a second." He moved around her and crossed the room. Fumbling for the lighter he knew he'd put in his pocket, he quickly lit the four candles he'd arranged around the room and on the table.

Once the candles were lit, Pam moved slowly into the dining room. "What's the occasion?" she said lightly, but even in the soft glow of the candles Jim could see her smile.

"I just like the way you look in candlelight," he replied. The gleam of the flames picked up the highlights in her hair and made her eyes sparkle. She looked lit from within, somehow, as though her happiness was somehow glowing outward instead of the light coming from somewhere else.

Her smile turned sheepish for a moment, then creased into a thoughtful frown. "When have you seen me by candlelight?" she asked.

Jim shook his head. "Wow, for someone who claims to remember everything, I can't believe you missed this one. How about the roof at work, the first time I ever made you dinner?"

Pam laughed. "Oh, duh, of course! I was thinking of, like birthday cake candles or something. You weren't here for Michael's experiment with actual lit candles."

Jim moved closer. "I'm very sorry I missed the party," he said seriously. Leaning in, he kissed her fully and softly, moving his hands to her shoulders and rubbing them gently.

"Mmm," she hummed happily, pulling away. "Well, you can make up for it by feeding me now. I'm starving and something smells delicious."

"Yes, ma'am. Have a seat and I'll be right back." Jim headed to get their food while Pam sat down at the table, gazing after him with a look of tenderness and unmistakable attraction. He grinned to himself as he realized that the bright lights in the kitchen weren't the only thing dazzling his eyes.

XIII. End

Jim brought the food and wine out to the table, and the two started to eat.

"This is delicious," Pam said happily. "From now on, I promise that chicken tetrazzini will make me think of you."

Jim smiled. "Good. Now about this "remembering" thing..."

"Hmm?" Pam's mouth was full, but she looked up at him quizzically.

It actually took Jim a moment to reply, as he took in how beautiful she looked in the candlelight, happily eating dinner he'd made for her, that they'd shopped for together. This was real. This was them, finally together. "Um, yeah," he started, trying to re-collect his thoughts. "Yeah, it's just- I like it. I like knowing what you remembered. I just hope that the sad memories can end."

Pam swallowed. "The sad memories are what they are. I don't dwell on them, honestly, but they can't ever go away." She was leaning forward, her expression serious and her eyes dark in the dim light.

"No, that's not what I mean," Jim answered hastily. "I mean- I want to go on making new things that remind you of me, and things that remind me of you, but for the sad memories to end now from now on."

"Oh. Right." Pam looked confused.

Jim took a deep breath and tried again. "What I mean is, that I don't want this game to end, of finding things that remind us of each other. I just want all our new memories to be happy. "