It was 2:16 in the afternoon on a Saturday. 17-year-old Pam watched the ceiling fan spin dizzy circles above her head. Roy laid next to her, breathing heavily, hands linked behind his head. She pulled the sheet up to her chin, even though she was still wearing her shirt as Roy turned his head to face her.

“That was freakin’ awesome, Pammy.”

She forced out a small laugh. “Yeah, it was.”

He reached to the side of his bed and handed her a crumbled ball of jeans and underwear.

“My parents should be back from their movie soon, so you should probably put these back on.”

She took them and silently slipped them back on under the covers and sat up. She thought she would feel different. Based on every movie she stayed up late watching with Isabel on Friday nights, she thought would feel different.

“Do you want me to…” she muttered, “stay?”

“If you want. Some of the guys from the team are probably going to come over to watch the game.” He was facing toward her as he pulled his boxers back on. Despite what they had just done, she averted her eyes.

“Oh...okay. Uh, well...I’ll probably just let you have fun with them. I should get home. I have a painting for Mr. Hendrick’s class that’s due on Monday that I need to finish.”

“Cool.” He strutted over to Pam as she picked up her backpack from the chair in his room and slipped it over her shoulder. He leaned down and gave her a kiss. “I can’t believe we finally did it,” he blurted out with a laugh. “Love you, Pammy.”

She feigned a smile. “I love you, too. See you Monday?”

*****

Seeing as they only lived a street away from each other, Pam always walked to and from Roy’s house. The October air was brisk so she dipped her chin further into her scarf as she replayed what had just happened.

She had gone over to Roy’s house that afternoon to study and after finishing her homework (and half of Roy’s), he shot his eyebrows upward and asked her if she felt like she was ready yet. His parents were at a movie and it would be the perfect time.

Luckily, Pam always felt like it was her choice to make, which she appreciated. Roy could be a little dense sometimes, but at least he seemed to fully understand the concept of consent, even if he did ask her every weekend if she wanted to, in his words, “do it” yet. And she did love him, at least as far as she knew what love meant in her young age. He was nice to her, aside from the occasional jokes about her being too “artsy”—jokes that he only told around the football team. But when they were alone, he was pretty caring. He pretended to like her sketches even though she knew he had no interest whatsoever in art. And he was very cute, that was certain.

She looked at him, bit her bottom lip in a nervous smile, and then nodded. Pure delight spread across his face as he took her hand and they ran to his bedroom.

Not three minutes later, they were done and Roy was rolling off of her. Pam was still wearing her shirt, which she found odd since Roy’s hands always seemed to gravitate toward her clothed breasts whenever they made out—she thought he might want to see what was actually under there. She was just glad that through the commotion and excitement that he had remembered to use protection.

She loved Roy, she told herself as she turned down her street, noticing the leaves changing their colors and falling around her. She loved him, so why did she feel so...hollow right now? It hadn’t felt good, like Isabel told her it would. It actually kind of hurt. And it was over so quickly, she’s not even sure she remembered what it actually felt like, just the sounds and faces he made.

She unlocked the front door with her key and slinked inside, happy that Penny and her parents were in Dunmore for one of Penny’s soccer tournaments.

The first time is probably never good. Maybe they just needed to figure it out. But then again, Roy really seemed to enjoy it.

She shook her head and climbed the stairs up to her room. She pulled out her paints and her easel, carefully lining up the colors, then silently stared at the empty canvas for 12 straight minutes.

It would get better. It had to get better.

Maybe it was because she forgot her lunch in Roy’s truck and it was probably old and spoiled by now.

Maybe it was because she saw Kevin walk out of the bathroom after being in there for at least half an hour and she didn’t want to sit in the kitchen near the bathrooms to eat. She made that mistake once and once was enough.

Or maybe it was because when he sat down for his second day at Dunder Mifflin earlier that morning, he looked up from his desk and flashed a smile at her that made the cold February morning seem just a little bit warmer.

Whatever the reason, she had just agreed to get lunch at Cugino’s with the company’s newest hire, Jim Halpert.

She called Roy to give him a reason she wouldn’t be in the office during lunch, something about Michael’s new policy of needing her to welcome the new employees and take them to lunch. She knew it was a lie but there was something in Jim’s smile that made it feel excusable.

Jim stood up from his seat, rolled his sleeves to his elbows, and grabbed his coat. He pointed to her.

“You ready? I can drive.”

She eagerly stood and followed him out of the office while trying to push down the mounting excitement rising in her chest. She was engaged and this was just a friendly lunch.

It was on the drive that she found herself fiddling with her hands and realized she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring. She had no idea where it was. She had only had it a couple of weeks and she already lost it. Wonderful.

Her initial thought was that Roy would be furious. Closely following that thought, she realized she was about to go to lunch alone with a guy who had no idea she was engaged. And after that thought, she asked herself why it even mattered. He was just being friendly and besides, even if she wasn’t engaged, guys like him probably wouldn't be interested in girls like her anyway.

The two ordered, ate, and paid (Jim’s treat) without any lull in conversation.

“So,” Jim said. ”I have a question for you.”
“Okay,” she answered, once again fiddling with her left ring finger.
“Dwight, is he—“
“Always like that? Probably some part of an underground cult? Extremely easy to mess with? Yes.”
“Wow,” his eyes widened as he smiled. “I was going to ask if he was really the top salesman, but all those things are great to know.”

Pam chuckled. “He’s not all that bad. I mean, I haven’t been there that long and he’s definitely...different. But he can have his moments.”

Jim put his elbow on the table and propped his chin on his hand, a look of mock intrigue on his face. “Oh really, like what?”

“Well, for starters...once he...no...give me a minute...he…”

“That’s what I thought,” Jim said with a laugh. “You seem like the type that can find the good in everyone, though. I admire that.”

The way his head was tilted, the way his smile perfectly tugged at the corner of his mouth, the way he looked at her like he actually saw her after only knowing her a few hours, gave her a feeling deep in her stomach that eventually sent a signal to her brain, reminding her she was engaged and hadn’t even mentioned Roy yet.

“I do my fair share of complaining about people,” she shrugged, “just ask my fiancé.” She shot a fleeting glance upward.

He covered it well, but she clocked the exact moment his face fell. She felt a pang of disappointment herself before swallowing it down.

“Oh!” The forced enthusiasm in Jim’s voice was apparent. He held his left hand up and pointed to it. “I didn’t see a ring, otherwise I would have said something. Asked you about him or...something.”

“No, yeah...I actually think I lost it this morning somewhere. Hopefully it's just in the shower or by the sink or something.”

He squinted at her. “How do I know you don’t say that to all the guys to get a free meal out of them with no strings attached?” He winked. “I’m joking, Pam!” He must have seen the worry in her brow. “You seem like one of the only sane people in the office so I was happy to get to know a new friend a little better. Can I call you my friend? Even though I don’t even know your last name?”

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in and smiled. “Of course you can. And it’s Beesly.”


“Good, because I have this idea, Beesly. I’m going to need an accomplice. And a couple boxes of Jello…”

She paced around her living room floor waiting for Jim to come over, her mind replaying the conversation she had overheard in the break room before leaving work that day.

The accountants had been sitting together as Pam was about to walk in for an afternoon snack. Before she reached the entry, she heard Karen’s name and curiosity got the best of her.

“I’m just surprised Karen didn’t get the job back when everyone interviewed,” Oscar said, “since Jim pulled out for whatever reason. Those two were definitely the most qualified.”

Keven giggled. “AND they were banging.”

Oscar sighed. “Yes, Kevin, we know. Something must have happened between them in New York because she transferred pretty quickly.”

“Maybe he’s banging Pam now.”

“Kevin, we've been over this. There is no reason to believe they’re together.”

Angela spoke up curtly. “I quite liked Jim and Karen together. She made him actually get work done for once in his life. And they certainly seemed very compatible. Not to mention they rarely touched each other in the office, leading me to believe they were conducting a chaste and moral courtship.”

Kevin scoffed. “Yeah RIGHT.” Pam didn’t see it, but she could imagine Kevin raising a fist to Oscar.

She had walked away after that, not wanting to hear any more. It had been a month since Jim had come back from the job interview in New York and the two of them had been practically inseparable since. It was nearly torture to keep her hands to herself at work. She would find herself just staring at him with a school girl smile plastered on her face before she remembered that nobody knew they were seeing each other and they preferred it that way.

In the month Jim had been back, things had been really great. The transition into “more than friends” was smooth, uninhibited. They were “Jim and Pam” again, but with a few upgrades.

But there was just one issue with that. The Old Jim and Pam always had a difficult time discussing the things that actually needed discussing the most and that tendency seemed to trickle over into New Jim and Pam. He had galloped home from New York on his metaphorical steed and whisked her away to a life she had only dreamt of, but somehow they had still avoided talking about the night he confessed his love, about Stamford, about Karen, about...everything. They were inseparable, but Jim had yet to vocalize how he felt about Pam. Maybe she was being naive to think he could just pick his feelings up off the curb of the Dunder Mifflin parking lot on his way back from New York, but she had hoped he still felt the way he did after casino night. The night she flipped that coin in her head and couldn’t trust herself to pick what it landed on.

What Angela had said in the break room was tugging at her. What if Karen was the better fit? What if he had fallen in love with Karen in Stamford and that dislodged how he used to feel about Pam? Sure, he came back. He seemed happy now. But what if the luster wears off, and Fancy New Beesly gets a little less fancy, and he regrets dropping everything to be with her? Why else couldn’t he tell her he still loved her?

She knew it shocked nobody, but Pam was a self-proclaimed overthinker. The overthinking led to anxiety and the anxiety usually manifested itself as either a puddle of tears or as a rise of frustration. Sometimes both. But this time, frustration was winning out.

She felt her fists clench. She wasn’t really mad at Jim. I mean, she’d kill to hear him say “those three words” again. But mostly, she was just still so damn mad at herself for letting him slip through her fingers. For not calling him when she called off the wedding. For waiting so long to tell him she missed her best friend. Maybe then he would feel like he used to and she wouldn’t be pacing and cursing at herself and wondering how deep his feelings for Karen had really been.

Her doorbell rang, snapping out of her mental spiral but still feeling the splinters of her anxious frustration poking and irritating her. She answered it to Jim holding flowers, a bag of microwave popcorn, and a copy of The Princess Bride.

“Hey, you,” Jim smiled. “Long time no see.” He leaned down for a kiss and she quickly turned her head so it landed on her cheek. She knew it was immature, but now the feelings she felt when Karen was around had begun creeping back up and she couldn’t shove them down. She tried to ignore the confused look on his face.

He held up the bag of popcorn. “Want me to get this going?”

“I can do it,” she said flatly, taking it from him. “You can start the movie if you want.”

She went into the kitchen and practically threw the popcorn in the microwave and slammed the door shut. She kept accidentally pushing the wrong buttons, clearing the time, then pushing the wrong buttons again, getting more and more flustered until finally everything boiled to the tipping point.

“WHY WON’T THE MICROWAVE DO WHAT I WANT?!”

By this point Jim had entered the kitchen doorway, brows furrowed. She looked at him and pointed incredulously at the microwave.

“The microwave sucks!” She lowered her voice to a tiny whisper. “I suck.”

Jim raised his hands up and carefully took a step toward her. “Hey there, Beesly, you want to...maybe fill me in on what’s actually going on right now?”

She sighed deeply, placing her hands on the edge of the sink and lowering her chin to her chest. There was something about Jim’s voice, not just now but always, that unfailingly seemed to loosen her. She stared into the sink and began to unravel the cord that she had so tightly wound around herself for who knows how long.

Quietly, almost inaudibly, she ventured.

“Did you ever tell Karen you loved her?”

Pam wasn’t looking at him, but she could picture his brow scrunching and the corners of his mouth pulling down in surprise.

“Okaaaay,” he walked closer to her and she could now see his feet on the linoleum next to hers. She felt his hand on her back. “Now I’m really lost. I know how much you hate sports analogies, but that was a little out of left field.”

Finally she stood straight and looked up at him towering next to her. He cupped the sides of her face with his hands and delicately kissed her forehead. “What’s going on up here, Beesly?” he whispered against her skin.

She put her hands on his wrists as his own hands still warmed her cheeks and she succumbed to his pleading gaze, glancing up at him sheepishly.

“I’m...I just, you haven’t said it to me yet. Or again, or whatever. And I don’t think I’ve really let go of the guilt I feel for pushing you away to Stamford and to...her. And don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad you’re back…”

“But…”

“...but I’m worried that you left and found Karen—Karen, who is beautiful, and driven, and knows what she wants, and motivated you. And I’m worried you fell in love with her and now that we’re finally together, I’m not going to be enough for you and you regret coming back to…”

“Pam, stop.”

“Okay.” She bit her lower lip nervously and looked down.

Jim took her by the hand and led her to the kitchen table, pulling two chairs closely together, facing each other. He sat bent, his elbows on his knees, and his hands encasing both of hers.

“I did tell her I loved her.”

Pam’s shoulders dipped.

“Hold on. I told her, but I don’t think I ever really meant it. Which also makes me feel like a complete asshole. I haven’t really been proud of how I handled, well, anything the last little while.”

Pam sniffled. “You were kind of an asshole.”

They both chuckled.

“Yeah, I know.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. “She said it to me first and I was so hell-bent on trying to move on that I said it back, hoping to convince myself it was true.”

“But it wasn’t?”

He lifted her chin with his knuckle and looked into her eyes with a warmth that she felt spread from the keds on her feet to the barrette in her hair. “Of course not. Pam, I have only felt those feelings, like really felt them, once. And even though I tried like hell to convince myself otherwise, those feelings never left. Pam, I’m so happy with you. It’s literally my dream come true and that’s not going to change.”

She searched his eyes. “Then why haven’t you sa—“

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I’m completely and hopelessly and endlessly in love with you, Pamela Morgan Beesly. Always have been.” He shrugged. “I think I was just being cautious because I didn’t know if you...I wanted to give you time. I spooked you once and I didn’t want to do it again.”

She eagerly pressed her lips to his and he returned her gesture with long, slow, healing kisses. She pulled away and slid her hands behind his neck, his words reverberating in her mind. There was once a time, not long ago, where those same words had haunted her—had woken her up at night with regret. Now, hearing them again, she wondered how she ever survived without them. They were incredibly life-giving.

“I love you too,” she whispered.

Jim let out all the air in his lungs, all at once, and his smile was almost too big for his face. He closed his eyes and rested his head on hers.

“Sorry,” he smiled, “but I’m going to need you to say that again.”

She grinned and gave him a soft kiss.

“I love you, Jim.”

He closed his eyes. “Again.”

“I love you.”

“One more time…”

“I love juice.”

“Damnit, I knew it.”

She feigned surprise. “Wait, what did you thinkI was saying?!”

The kitchen filled with laughter as they embraced not only each other, but the fact that for once, they finally had the timing right.

“I think Dwight misses you,” Jim smirked. “He keeps looking longingly up toward your desk.”

Pam took a bite of her lunch and squinted. “Are you sure that isn’t you who is doing that?”

“Oh, it’s definitely me,” he admitted. “But Dwight really has been complaining about how Ronnie makes his copies.”

The two of them were sitting on the couch in Pam’s room at Pratt, her legs crossed and draped over Jim’s lap. She put her plate down on the floor and crossed her arms against her chest.

“Well, lucky for Dwight, we only have 10 more weeks separating him from properly copied documents.”

Jim ran his right hand up her thigh and looked at her alluringly. Pam knew that look. He was about to say something completely ridiculous but it would still 100% work and she would inevitably have her way with him.

“I’ll properly copy YOUR documents…” he said gruffly.

She threw her head back in laughter. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Jim put his plate on the side table and slinked up over top of her, kissing his way up her neck as she giggled and squirmed playfully beneath him.

“No idea…” he said against the soft spot under her ear. “But I’m going to do it.”

She threw her arms around his neck and succumbed to his kisses, happily. He made this tiny little dorm room feel like home, just by simply being in it. It was the happiest she had been in the two weeks they had been apart.

That was, until 10 minutes later when she felt a sudden wave of intense nausea and urgently pushed Jim off of her. She doubled over and ran into the bathroom, where she promptly lost her lunch. Jim was right behind her, holding her hair back and tracing small circles over her back with his palm. She rested her hand on her arm that she had draped over the toilet seat.

“Well, that was sudden,” Jim said sympathetically. ”I mean, I know I don’t have game, but I didn’t think I was that bad.”

He took a seat next to her as she leaned back against the bathtub and she rested her head against his shoulder. “First of all, you have no idea how much game you have. Second of all, I’m so sorry.”

“Are you kidding,” he said tenderly, putting a hand on her knee, “don’t be sorry for this. You okay?”

She gave a small nod, feeling terrible that his first weekend visiting her in New York started out this way.

“Here,” Jim responded, “let’s get you in bed.”

He helped her up off the floor and she let out a sad laugh. “Bet you thought that phrase would mean something a little different this weekend, huh?”

He led her into her room, onto her bed, and pulled the covers over her. “I’d be lying if I said no, but I will take you absolutely any way I can get you, Beesly.” He looked at her with a sweetness and sincerity in his eyes that made a lump form in her throat. He kissed her temple. “I’ve missed you.”

She frowned. “I’ve missed you too. Like, a lot.”

He brushed a curl out of her face. “I’ll go grab you some water.”

When he came back to the room she patted the empty spot next to her on the bed. “Lay with me?”

A small smile hit his lips as he slipped off his shoes. He squeezed his long frame between Pam and the wall and snaked his arm around her waist, his face buried in her hair. “I love you, Beesly. And you know I mean that because I just saw you barf and I’m still completely enamored by you.”

She closed her eyes. “My Prince Charming,” she chuckled. “Luckily, I feel a lot better. A little off, but not queasy anymore. Just a weird freak puking episode, maybe?”

He pulled his head off the pillow. “Wait, are you...could you be...pregnant?”

She immediately shook her head. “No, I just finished my period yesterday.”

“Okay, rules that out then,” he said cooly, laying his head back down.

Pam flipped around to face him. “Hold up, Halpert, that wouldn’t have freaked you out? If I was?”

“I mean, the timing wouldn’t have been ideal,” he shrugged. “But Pam…” he slid his fingers through hers and kissed the back of her hand. “The thought of you giving me little curly-haired Halperts is the absolute leastscary thought for me. Quite the opposite, actually.”

She buried her head in his chest as she felt tears spring to her eyes. “Someday.” She looked up and met his gaze. “Promise.”

He hugged her closer and kissed her forehead, running his hands through her hair.

“I’m holding you to that, Beesly.”

They both began to fall into sleep, legs and bodies intertwined. As she was drifting off, Pam couldn’t help but think that in all the years she had been with Roy, she could never fully picture their future family and she often strained to see Roy as a father. Just like so many other things about their relationship, she had convinced herself that’s just the way things were.

Thankfully, a lanky paper salesman walked into her life and showed her that she was worth more than what she had settled for. As she looked at Jim’s face, now relaxed with sleep, she settled into him and basked in the surety she felt. They weren’t even engaged, but she still saw Jim coaching little league and singing to the radio as he drove their kids to art lessons. She saw him sitting on their couch on Christmas morning, puffy sleep-filled eyes and disheveled hair, watching while their kids sent wrapping paper flying. She pictured a tiny baby being protected in his long, strong arms, promising them safety and comfort, and eventually teaching them the art of the perfect prank.

She gently stroked his stubbly cheek. It may have taken them years to get where they were, potholes and roadblocks lining the road they took, but she would do it a million times over in order to have the chance to choose Jim Halpert over and over and over again.

“Buddy, please put your shoes in the closet. Your sister nearly broke her arm tripping over one this morning.”

Phillip begrudgingly walked over to his discarded shoes and walked them to the hallway closet.

“Thank you! How was preschool today?”

“Good. Miss Stephanie taught us a song about wocket ships.”

“That sounds so cool! You love space.” She hoped his R’s would stay W’s forever. Okay, not forever, but it kept him from feeling too grown up and she wanted him to stay this age. He was at her favorite stage—that sweet spot where he still wanted to cuddle with her but he could put on his own shoes and buckle his own car seat. She liked being needed, but not for everything.

She heard the familiar sound of the garage door and a smile sprung to her face. Friday’s were her favorite, because if Jim wasn’t on a business trip for Athleap, he almost always called it a day around lunch.

“Phil! I think Daddy’s home!”

Phillip’s head popped up and he ran to the door, sliding across the last few feet of hardwood in his socks. The door swung open and Jim walked in and was nearly taken to the ground by his 4-year-old wrapped around his knees. He tousled Phillip’s hair.

“Hey, dude!”
“Hi Daddy!”

Jim dropped his bag and bent down to lift Phillip into a tight hug. “How are you?”

“Good! Wanna hear a wocket ship song?”
“Of course I do!” Jim exclaimed, finding Pam’s eyes and giving her a little wink. “Let me just say hi to Mommy real quick.”

Jim walked over to Pam and gave her a kiss, lingering just a touch longer than she expected. “Hey, baby.”

He flashed her a classic Jim Halpert smile and that’s all it took. Every so often, something that was routine and normal like his lips on hers or his crooked smile or the smell of his cologne, would be like flint on steel, igniting something deep within her. She bit her bottom lip as she watched him walk toward Phillip.

“Alright, big guy. Hit me with the song.”

As if his smile hadn’t already undone her, seeing him intently watch their son sing a song that was missing half the words (but none of the hand motions), completely unglued her. Watching him be an amazing dad was one of her biggest weaknesses.

After Phillip had finished, she walked over to Jim and whispered in his ear as he gave Phillip a standing ovation. She slid her hand in the back pocket of his suit pants and gave a quick little squeeze.

“Our room. I’ll be there in three minutes. Understand?”

Jim’s eyes widened as a thin, sly smile spread on his face. “Yep, roger that. Hey, Phil! That was amazing. I’m going to go, uh, change my clothes. Then we can hang out some more later before Cece gets home from school.”

“Bro time!” Phillip yelled.
Jim raised his fist and copied Philip’s tone. “Bro time!”

He gave Pam a quick kiss on the cheek as he practically sprinted upstairs.


A few minutes later, Pam came barreling through the bedroom door, already unbuttoning her blouse. “Okay, he has an episode of Super Monsters on and a large bowl of Fruit Loops. Cece isn’t home for another two hours. If my calculations are correct, that gives us roughly 14 minutes before he inevitably needs something from us. Can you do that Halpert?”

“Can I do that...pshhh…”

“Less talk. Pants,” she pointed. “Off.”

He whipped his belt off and shoved his pants to the floor in one continuous motion, then kicked the door shut behind him and locked it. She shoved him against the door and started ravenously kissing up his neck and helping him with his own buttons. She could tell he was already losing mental clarity with every one of her kisses.

“Okay, so are we doing the Balloon Man or Gold Digger?” Jim half-mumbled.

She leaned back quickly and looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “Wait..have you named our quickie strategies?!”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

She paused for a beat. “Whatever. Gold Digger. Not sure what that actually is, but you know what you’re doing.”

He quickly hoisted her up onto his hips, her legs wrapping around him, and she let out a giggly screech as he walked her to their bed, burying kisses into her neck with a playful growl.

*******

“So,” Pam said between heavy breaths. “That’s the Gold Digger, huh?”

“Yup,” Jim let out in a gasping breath. “That’s the one.”

“I’m a big fan.”

“Meeeee too. And that thing you did with the—“ he started making hand motions through the air in front of him..

“You liked that?”

“Hell yes I did.”

“Noted. What’s our time looking like?”

Jim glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “We still have about five minutes, if your calculations are, indeed, correct.”

“Wow, well done us.”

“You seemed to enjoy yourself,” he said slyly.

“Oh, I did,” she held up two fingers. “Twice.”

“In 9 minutes?! Damn. I guess I still got it.”

“Yes. Yes you do,” she hummed as she laid a kiss on his bare chest.

She rolled over and sat up to grab some clothes. Even with her back turned to him, she could feel him looking at her; it was a talent she acquired after so many years of feeling his eyes on her while she worked. She turned to see Jim propped up on his elbow, looking at her with complete adoration. She was tempted to say it reminded her of the look he would give her early in their relationship, but honestly, he had always looked at her that way. And it never got old.

“What?” she chuckled.

“How do you do it?”

“What, the thing? I just throw my leg over this wa—“

“No,” he laughed. His eyes were soft as he studied her. “How, after all these years, do you still manage to give me massive butterflies by just looking at you?”

A smile made its way across her face as she drank in how lucky she was to have him. She placed a hand on his cheek and he covered it with his own. He turned and kissed her palm.

“We make a pretty good team, Halpert,” she smiled.

“The best.”

She leaned down to him and gave him a slow, deep kiss.

“So,” he whispered against her lips. “Do we have time for Balloon Man…”

She chuckled and ran her fingers through his hair and squinted at him. “Can we pick different names?”

Before he could answer, they both heard a little voice bellow “MOMMY!” from downstairs and they sighed simultaneously.

Jim glanced at the clock. “14 minutes on the dot. You’re freakishly good at that.”

She glanced over her shoulder as she pulled a shirt over her head and walked to the door. “I’m pretty freakishly good at other things, too…” she winked.

Heading down the hallway, she heard Jim call from the bedroom. “Just give him the whole box of Fruit Loops and come back here! I will assess your skills!”

She backpedaled to the bedroom door and poked her head through. “Sorry, Halpert. I’ll show you tonight.”

He gave an exaggerated pout. “Promise?”

“If you’re a good boy.”

He pumped his fist and flashed her a smile. “Hey,” he said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dork.”

She continued back down the hallway, smiling like an idiot, her own butterflies flapping away.

As she reached Philip downstairs, he scrunched his eyebrows at her. “Mommy, where are your pants?”

She looked down. Sure enough, she was standing in nothing but a long shirt and underwear, pants nowhere to be found. Jim apparently still had the ability to make her head dizzy and forgetful, but in the best way.

“I...uh, lost them?”

Philip seemed to accept that answer and turned back to the TV. “You just gotta think weally, weally hard about where you last had them. That’s what Daddy says.”

“Good idea, kiddo,” she agreed as she turned to run back upstairs. At the bottom of the stairs, she crashed into Jim, her pants dangling from one of his fingers, his face riddled with amusement.

“Found ‘em, Phil!” Jim called over Pam’s shoulder, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

Philip gave him a tiny thumbs up. “See, Mommy. It’s a good thing we have Daddy.”

She snatched her pants from Jim’s hands, gave him a soft kiss on his lips, and grinned at him.

“Sure is, buddy. Sure is.”