Michael Gary Scott is insane.

It’s not new news; Jim knew this the moment he stepped into Michael’s office for his interview and Michael proceeded to impersonate Elvis for the next ten minutes (and then Kermit for the next five. Badly). It’s been seven years and Jim still wonders why he decided to accept the job (really, he knows he accepted it because Michael was the only one willing to give the kid right out of college a chance). Especially after days like today, when Michael decides that a productive day in the office is equivalent to a day in prison and forces everyone to join him in a game of four-square. Jim had just gotten back from three different sales meetings with clients and was looking forward to finally sitting down at his desk when Michael made the announcement to meet him outside. Days like today lead him to Poor Richard’s as soon as the clock strikes five.

He’s on his second beer, leaning back against the booth as he watches everyone else in the bar. There’s a couple making out in the corner, a group of guys yelling at one of the TVs near the counter, a couple of kids, who Jim isn’t even sure are old enough to be in here, are playing the weirdest songs they can find on the jukebox. The bar is loud and crowded considering it’s only a Thursday night; he watches people dancing on one side of the bar and flirting on the other. He thinks he should leave soon before people start thinking he’s pathetic being here by himself.

He takes another swig of beer before his eyes fall onto someone walking into the bar. Their eyes meet for half a second before she gets lost in the crowd and he turns to watch the couple next to him fight about the bill and then to the guy across the room playing darts. He lets himself continue to glimpse into various patrons’ lives as he sips his beer, the kids still on the jukebox, a girl playing pool, two guys helping a third stumble out the door. He lifts the bottle to his lips before realizing it’s empty, and even though he knows he probably shouldn’t, he does have work tomorrow, he goes up to the bar to order another.

Before he can wave the bartender over, he hears an irritated, “No, thanks,” and glances to his right. His mother would probably scold him with how often he tends to eavesdrop, but that doesn’t stop him from doing it anyway. He had to be observant in order to survive his two older brothers and the trait followed him to adulthood. Plus, if he was honest, he liked being able to find things out about strangers he would likely never see again. Learning secrets, finding out information, listening to arguments. There was nothing he could do with the stuff he heard, but he enjoyed knowing that the people surrounding him had their own lives just like he did.

Which is why he glances over. Just to gather information. The voice had come from a girl sitting two stools away, chin in her hand, a small frown on her face. He can’t see her whole face from where he is, but he can see part of the crease in her forehead and watches her pick at the sleeve of her cardigan. He looks above her to see Roy Anderson practically hovering over the girl. He doesn’t know a lot about Roy, except for the fact that he’s a frequent visitor of Poor Richard’s and usually coerces some girl into leaving with him for the night. It seems like he has found his target, though she couldn’t seem more uncomfortable if she tried.

Roy isn’t backing off, though, clearly not reading the signs that she is uninterested. Jim isn’t one for confrontation, but he feels bad for the girl. Any other time he had seen Roy do this, if the girl wasn’t interested, she told him so. By the way this girl keeps looking down, playing with her fingers, and picking at her sleeve, Jim can tell she isn’t that bold.

He’s not sure what he’s going to be able to do, though. He doesn’t necessarily peg Roy as the violent type, but Jim knows that he would lose in a fight if Roy decided to start one. And with how insistent he seems to be on charming this poor girl, Jim isn’t sure Roy would simply turn away with a simple, “back off.” He tries to come up with a plan but then watches her noticeably stiffen as Roy slides his hand across her back and Jim finds himself walking towards her with no clue of what’s going to happen once he reaches them.

“Dammit, there you are. We’ve been looking for you, I thought we were meeting at the back booth?” The words come out a little quicker than he would have liked, but he hopes he still sounds convincing enough. They look at each other as Jim steps next to Roy and he recognizes her as the girl who he had noticed walking into the bar earlier. He had the passing thought earlier that she was pretty but was quickly distracted and had forgotten that he had even seen her. Now that he’s closer, he can see how green her eyes are, the lightest spread of freckles on her cheeks, how her curls frame her face perfectly.

She seems to not recognize him though, her frown changing slightly from uncomfortable to confused. He doesn’t blame her for not immediately playing along with his idea, considering he isn’t entirely sure what his idea is either. But Roy’s hand is off of her back now, so he continues talking, hoping she’ll get the hint. He nods towards the door, “The rest of the group left but I was going to hang out for a little longer, what are you drinking?”

“Um, just a beer.”

“Can I sit with you? Unless…” He looks at Roy for the first time since he walked over here, looking more confused than she is, before looking back at her.

Realization seems to hit her then, and she gestures towards the stool next to her. “No, no. Go ahead, please.”

“You know her, Halpert?”

That catches Jim off guard, since he doesn’t really know Roy, he’s not sure how Roy knows him. Jim wonders if maybe he spends a little too much time here as well. He tries to recover, waving his hand, “Oh, yeah. We’ve been friends for years, right?”

She nods, a little too quickly to really be natural, but luckily Roy doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, yes. Years.”

Roy squints, trying to figure out the bluff, but Jim just shrugs, hoping Roy will see he’s not winning and will leave. He doesn’t, though, and instead gets a little smirk. “What’s her name?”

“What?”

“Her name. Easy question for such good friends.”

“Why do you care?” He could have said any name, gotten the question over with, but he feels Pam’s finger on his back, making letters against his shirt. He’s trying to buy time so he can figure out what she’s spelling. P-A-

“Why won’t you answer the damn question?”

“It’s Pam, okay?”

Roy glances at Pam and Jim can see her nodding out of the corner of his eye. Roy looks back at him, “Birthday?”

“Hers or mine?” He can already feel her finger on his back again, M-A-

“Why the hell would I want to know your birthday?”

R-C-H, Jim shrugs, “It’s coming up, thought you’d want to buy me something.”

“When is her birthday, Halpert?”

“March 25th.”

“What’s her mom’s name?”

H-E, “Am I on a game show? What the hell does this have to do with me being friends with her?”

“Just checking your story. Don’t want this pretty lady to be stuck with some creep, right?” Jim has to hold back his laughter at the irony as Roy continues, “Come on, you’ve been friends for years, right? You have to know her mom’s name.”

L-E-N-, “Helen, okay? Did we pass? Can I drink now?”

Roy glares at them both, “How do I know you’re not just lying?”

“Here,” Pam digs through her purse and pulls her wallet out. She flashes her license and confirms the first two answers, “Sorry I can’t prove my mom’s name.”

Roy gives a pouty hmph and stalks off.

They both release a quiet but relieved sigh, grinning at each other afterwards. Jim realizes that although his smile is genuine, he’s glad that they got Roy to leave, he’s also a little sad that the questions are over, already missing the feel of Pam’s touch. Which is weird, considering they don’t actually know each other.

She pulls him out of her thoughts, pushing her hair back behind her ear and then smiles, “Thanks for that. I tried asking him to leave, but he wouldn’t. I even tried telling him that I have a boyfriend,” she chuckles, starting to pick at her beer label, “Then I was going to leave myself, but he seemed really insistent. I was afraid he would just follow me.”

He’s glad she was looking down so she couldn’t see the look of disappointment he could feel on his face at the mention of a boyfriend. She looks back up at him when he doesn’t respond, though, so he clears his throat and waves his hand nonchalantly, “No problem. Uh, that whole spelling thing was really smart, I almost panicked and called you Rhonda. I don’t know where that came from, but it was the only name I could think of.”

She laughs, “Definitely not Rhonda.”

They’re interrupted by the bartender asking if they need anything. Jim orders another beer, Pam is only halfway through hers, so she passes. The bartender grabs a Guinness and passes it to Jim before going off to the next pair.

Jim takes a sip of his drink before saying, “I’m Jim, by the way. Birthday is October first and my mom’s name is Betsy.”

She nods, the smile still having not left her face, “My mom’s name is actually Helene. Luckily they don’t put that on licenses.”

He chuckles, “Roy is a creep. I’m surprised you haven’t run into him before, do you not come here often?”

“I actually just moved here a couple of weeks ago. Finally landed a job and thought I’d go out to celebrate a little.”

“Oh, that’s great! I can leave, if you want? I’m sure getting hit on by some dude and then hanging out with a stranger wasn’t in your plans for celebrating.”

She smiles, “No, it wasn’t. But, um, it’s okay. You—”

“Jim!”

They both look over to whoever is calling his name and he sees Katy across the room, waving at him. He hadn’t seen her in a few years, since she had moved back home with her parents. They had grown up together, though, so he was pretty upset when she left. Work and hobbies had gotten in the way, so they haven’t talked in a little over a year. He grins and waves back, then turns back to Pam. “I’m so sorry, do you mind?”

“Yeah, no, no worries. Take your time.”

“Okay, I’ll be back. One minute.”

He grabs his beer and makes his way across the room, greeting and hugging Katy once he gets close enough. He says hi to her friends as well as he sits down next to her to catch up for a moment, not realizing that she’s inching closer as he tells her stories about work. He’s in the middle of telling her about today’s four-square outing when her hand slides onto his knee and he stops.

He’s not sure if she wasn’t listening to him talk or just doesn’t care that he stopped in the middle of a sentence as she says, “We were gonna go down to The Bog, they’re having a ladies’ night over there. Did you want to come with me?”

“Oh, um, I can’t. I was—”

He looks back towards the bar but doesn’t see Pam anymore. He looks around the room, trying to find her, but he doesn’t see her anywhere. He quickly checks his watch and frowns a little. He had only been gone about three minutes, but she’s disappeared.

“Um,” he turns back to Katy, “Yeah, I’ll come along. Sounds like fun.”

“Great! Let’s go!”

He looks around once more before walking out of the door, but she’s still nowhere to be seen. The door closes behind him, Katy is pulling him forward, her hand on his back. It’s a nice gesture, anyone walking by would think he’s lucky to have Katy by his side. He’d also be lying if he said he wasn’t glad to be able to hang out with her again; they were best friends growing up. But even with her hand pressing against him, he can still only feel the warmth that Pam’s brought as she spelled out her name.

But Pam has a boyfriend, anyway, so he’ll try to forget about her fingers tracing his back.

Monday comes too fast. Friday was marginally better than Thursday. No games of four-square, however Michael did insist on watching two episodes of Full House after lunch. He was thankful for the weekend, even if all it included was watching basketball and eating Hamburger Helper. It was two days of no Michael, no annoying desk-mate, and no sales calls. Really, a perfect weekend in his books.

Although, his mind kept drifting to Thursday night. Specifically, the curly-haired, green-eyed girl he met on Thursday night. After hanging out with Katy for a little while longer at The Bog, he left her there with her friends and drove home. He had passed by Poor Richard’s on the way and had the thought to check if she was somehow there, but he kept driving. No matter how hard he had tried, no matter how much fun he had with Katy, he couldn’t stop thinking about Pam. It didn’t help that anytime he thought about Pam, he also thought about Pam’s boyfriend. He felt like he was going insane, already wanting someone he knew he couldn’t have and would probably never see again. He didn’t go back to Poor Richard’s the rest of the weekend, though he thought about it.

Now it’s Monday morning, it’s cold and rainy, and he’s running late to work. He holds his messenger bag over his head, trying to keep his clothes at least somewhat dry. He considers taking the stairs since he’s running late, but he knows there’s only one person who will notice or care, and that person is not Jim’s boss, so he takes the elevator instead. Just imagining the scowl on Dwight’s face when Michael sends him back to his desk after trying to report Jim is already brightening his Monday.  

He’s trying to think of another way to annoy Dwight today as he walks through the Dunder Mifflin doors. He gets all of two steps in before he stops in his tracks, unable to move any further. He would think he’s still asleep, there’s no way this could be happening outside of a dream. But then he remembers the very real, hot coffee he spilled on himself this morning and he knows he’s awake.

She must not have heard the door open because she’s still looking down, possibly reading something or maybe writing notes, but it’s her. Her hair is styled differently, pulled halfway up instead of freely falling down her shoulders, but it’s still the same pretty, auburn, curly mess he saw on Thursday. She has the same frown, the same crease in her forehead, but now it’s from concentration instead of frustration. She’s still wearing a cardigan, but it’s a different color and instead of a t-shirt, she’s paired it with a button-down. When she finally does look up and meet his eyes, there’s nothing different there. They’re wide and bright and possibly the prettiest shade of green he’s ever seen, just like they were the first time he saw them.

“Hey!” Her grin is the same, too, and it’s enough to finally have him walking forward again, if only to be closer to her. “What are you doing here?”

He hangs his coat on the rack before leaning against her desk, smiling, “I work here. I should be asking you that question, really.”

She holds her hands out, as if she was showing off a new car instead of a cluttered desk, “This is the job I told you I landed.”

So much for forgetting about her. His eyebrows furrow, “When did you interview?”

“Thursday morning.”

Damn sales meetings, he thinks, for once wishing he had been in the office instead of on the road. “Well, Pam, enjoy this moment, because you’re never going to come back once you meet my desk-mate, Dwight.”

She raises an eyebrow and smirks, glancing towards Dwight’s desk, “Oh, we’ve met.”

“And you’re still choosing to be here?”

She starts to respond but then Jim is slapped on the back, and he turns to see Michael, grinning. “Jimbo! I see you’ve already started making moves on the new girl.”

“I wasn’t making—”

“I don’t blame you; I mean look at her. Way hotter than that temp we had, right? And Pammy here has much better b—”

Jim quickly turns Michael around, telling him he needs to talk to him in his office immediately. He throws an apologetic look back at Pam whose face is red, but she looks almost amused, and he can’t help but chuckle.

 

After convincing Michael that letting everyone leave at four would not only boost workplace morale but would also make everyone think that he’s a great boss, Jim finds himself sitting at his desk. Ordinarily, outside of making a few sales calls and doing a little paperwork, he distracts himself with annoying Dwight and corralling Michael. Today, however, he finds himself up at reception more than at his desk. He’s pretty sure he’s eaten more jellybeans and laughed more today than in the seven years he’s worked here, but maybe that first part is because he doesn’t actually like jellybeans.

He keeps telling himself to stop. Stop going up to her desk, stop cracking jokes, stop planning pranks with her (even though she’s really good at it), stop everything. He knows he’s just going to get his heart broken. She has a boyfriend. She’s being nice to him because he helped her that night and now they’re coworkers, that’s all. But then she giggles or excitedly waves him over after thinking of a new prank, and it’s like a breath of fresh air. Every whisper, every smile, every laugh from her a tiny escape from reality. He leans back in his chair, sneaking a glance towards her, watches her talk on the phone.

He knows he’s in trouble, unsure of how he’s going to make it until four o’clock, only to do it all again tomorrow. And yet, although he can feel his heart already guarding itself, protecting him from the heartbreak that will be at the end of this road, he knows he’ll keep coming back. One day is all it took for him to fall for her.

 

The rest of Monday is filled with more trips to reception, treating her to lunch at Cugino’s (just as an excuse to get away from Michael, he reasons), and finally pulling off the prank they had planned together all morning. Tuesday and Wednesday, he had to actually get work done. He was gone most of Tuesday on sales meetings and then preoccupied on Wednesday with the annual rundowns. That didn’t stop him from stealing a few jellybeans and convincing Dwight that he was going deaf, but he spent more time at his desk than he would have liked. Thursday was a slow day for him, but the phones were busy and it seemed like anytime Pam wasn’t on the phone, Michael had her doing some strange and/or unnecessary task, so he tried not to bother her. She did eat lunch with him in the breakroom and gave him a post-it note doodle as he was leaving, though, so not a bad day.

As he walked into Dunder Mifflin Friday morning, he was greeted by Pam as he normally was, but he noticed there was something in her eyes telling him that she was up to something. He tried not to grin when he saw he was right, reaching for the envelope on his desk with her handwriting on it. He’s not sure if it’s strange that he already can recognize her handwriting or the look she gives him when she gets an idea after only four days. But he figures that they’re friends now, so it’s okay if he notices these things.

Meet me in the breakroom in five minutes.

-P

He can feel her arm just barely brush the back of his head as she walks past his chair towards the kitchen. He leans back in his chair to stuff the note into his pocket, his mind racing with thoughts about what she would want to meet in secret for. He waits the five minutes as asked, getting up out of his chair as inconspicuously as possible as soon as the clock strikes 9:05. His hands in his pockets, playing with her note, he makes his way to the breakroom, nodding at Toby on the way. She’s sitting at the back table, a mug with what he assumes is tea in front of her, her eyes lighting up once she sees him walk through the door. The butterflies in his stomach flutter and his heart swells at the sight of it.

“Alright, what’s up, Beesly?”

“I thought of the best prank on Dwight, and it involves Michael too.”

He finds himself a little disappointed that she just wanted to meet up for a prank, but that feeling disappears the moment her hand is on his arm, clearly very excited about her idea. Besides, this is an opportunity to spend time with her, alone, so he wasn’t about to complain. “Spill.”

“We got a huge shipment of post-it notes this morning, but we still have pretty much all of the ones from the last shipment, so I’m basically drowning in them at reception. I think we should cover Michael’s car in them.”

He laughs, “How have I not thought of that? How is that a prank on Dwight, though?”

“I’m not done. We convince Dwight that there’s something in the warehouse that he needs to catch or investigate or something. We’ll need something that will keep him busy for a while, so he doesn’t know we’re gone. But that’s not all. We’ll also pin the prank on Dwight.”

“You really thought this out, didn’t you?”

“It was a long twenty minutes before you arrived.”

He grins with the thought of her waiting for him to get here. Coming up with this elaborate prank that she knew he would love, writing out the note that’s sitting in his pocket, figuring out any missing details until he walked through the door. He shakes his head, trying to look more casual than he feels right now, then stands up, pointing his thumb back towards the bullpen, “Well, I guess I’d better go warn Dwight about the spy from Staples in the warehouse.”

Her giggle is the last thing he hears as he walks out of the room, and he knows he would do anything to hear that sound over and over again.

 

They’re outside, Michael’s car is covered halfway with post-it notes, and they’re working on the hood when Jim notices that Pam’s been pretty quiet since they’ve gotten out here. At first, he thought she was just trying to not get caught, but it’s been almost an hour and they’ve barely said anything to each other, and he keeps noticing a small frown on her face. It takes him another minute to work up the nerve, but he finally bumps her elbow with his and says, “What’s up?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we got out here, everything okay?”

She continues the line of post-its she was working on, “Oh, yeah. It’s nothing.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, “You sure?”

“Yeah.” She pauses and then says, “It’s just, you know Kelly?”

“I think most of Scranton knows Kelly.”

She chuckles, “Yeah, well, she asked if she could set me up on a date tonight. She wouldn’t let it drop, so I finally just said yes, but I don’t know. I don’t really want to.”

He barely heard anything she said after “date.” His stomach had dropped, his mind started racing, he swore she could see his heart beating out of his chest. She finally looks up at him, confused, after he hadn’t replied for a moment, so he utters out, “A date?”

“Well, I think it’s just drinks. But Kelly called it a double date, so yeah, I guess.”

He’s sure he looks insane right now. He can feel his eyes bugging out, his jaw dropped a little, a pink post-it note halfway towards the hood of Michael’s car. But even if he doesn’t look it, he feels insane. Pam has been single for long enough that she’s being set up on dates now, even though just a week ago she told him she had a boyfriend. Didn’t she? No, he knows she did. He frowns a little, the thought occurring to him that maybe she just wasn’t interested in him. They’ve been friendly all week, so maybe that’s all she wants from him; a friend.

“You okay?”

She pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts, “Yeah. Yeah, fine.” He finally places down the post-it he’s been holding, “You said you don’t want to go?”

She shrugs, moving towards the driver’s side window after she finishes the last row on the hood, “It’s not that I don’t trust Kelly’s taste in men, it’s just…”

“You don’t trust Kelly’s taste in men.”

She grimaces a little, “Kind of.”

He chuckles, trying to wrap his head around the fact that she seems willing to go out on a date, just not with one of the bachelors Kelly apparently has lined up. Not that he blames her. He inwardly sighs, already regretting what he’s about to say, but he knows he can help her. That’s what a friend would do, and if being friends is all Pam wants, then he’ll take that over nothing. “I mean, we could go out. If you want. I mean, just as friends. But then you can tell Kelly that you have plans. So, you don’t have to go on the date. You know?”

There’s something in her eyes when she looks at him. It’s not quite disappointment, but he can’t pinpoint exactly what it is before it’s gone and she flashes a smile. “Really?”

“Yeah, totally. I mean, I’ll have to call off my date with Domino’s and ESPN, but I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Her grin is wide and bright, and he knows that even if they never get together, he could live on that smile alone.

 

 

It’s the end of the day before Dwight finally storms back into the office, yelling, “Jim!”

Jim doesn’t look away from his computer, “What’s up?”

 “I spent all day trying to find that spy you told me about, but every single one of those workers is on the Dunder Mifflin payroll.”

He exits out and logs off of his computer, standing up as he does so. “Huh. I must have gotten mixed up with the warehouse next door.”

Dwight glares, “I’m going to get Michael to write you up. You made me waste company time because of your stupid prank, and I am not going to—”

Michael walks out of his office then, coat in hand, announcing to everyone that it’s time to go home.

“Michael!” Jim says happily, before Dwight can say anything. “You will not believe the surprise Dwight has for you!”

Michael’s eyes get wide, a grin appearing instantly, “A surprise?!”

“Do not believe him, Michael. He’s just trying to distract you from his criminal behavior today.”

Jim slaps Dwight’s shoulder, “Oh, buddy, you don’t have to make up excuses anymore. It’s the end of the day, Michael’s gonna love it.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Michael is just short of shaking with excitement at this point, “Come on, Dwight! What is it?”

“I don’t kn—”

“It’s outside, Michael. He wouldn’t let any of us out there all day, determined that no one knows what he was doing.”

“Let’s go, then!”

Michael takes off, not even bothering to look back to see if anyone follows him. Dwight continues to glare at Jim, but Jim ignores him, turning to Pam instead. He grabs his coat and messenger bag before nodding towards the door and echoes Michael, “Well, let’s go, then!”

Pam giggles and grabs her stuff, following Jim out the door, Dwight right behind them. They find Michael waiting at the elevator and all ride down together. Dwight tries to convince Michael that there’s no surprise, but Michael keeps shushing him. They walk out together, and Michael stops right outside the door, as soon as he sees his car.

Jim nods approvingly, “Wow, that’s impressive.”

“Dwight, you idiot. How am I supposed to drive home with all of this on my car?”

“I didn’t do it! It was Jim!”

“It very clearly says it’s from you,” Michael states, pointing to the message of, “From Dwight,” on the front windshield that Pam had made out of post-it notes at the last minute.

“Very clearly,” Jim echoes once more.

“Help me clean this off, Dwight.”

“But—”

“Come on!”

Dwight glares at Jim again before following orders, removing the post-its from the car.

Jim shares a smile with Pam as they walk towards their cars, giving her a quiet, “Well done,” once they were out of earshot. They reach their cars, and he leans on the top of his after tossing his things into the backseat. “So, text me your address and I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

She shakes her head a little, playing with her keys and looking down at the ground, “Oh, you don’t have to. I mean… it’s Friday night, you’ve probably got plans…”

“I already told you, pizza and basketball can wait. I wouldn’t want Kelly to accuse you of being a liar.”

Her eyes meet his, a smile playing on her lips, “No, I guess I don’t want that either.”

“So, an hour?”

“I’ll text you.”

 

They find themselves at Alfredo’s Pizza Café a little over an hour later, sharing a pepperoni pizza and talking about Pam’s first week of work. They’re laughing and their feet are occasionally bumping into each other under the table, and Jim allows himself to pretend they’re on an actual date. He figures they would have been right now, anyway, if she saw him as more than a friend.

She tosses the half-eaten crust back onto the pan and takes a sip of her coke. He watches her suddenly grow shy and a little concerned, he can tell she wants to ask or say something but isn’t sure how. He slightly raises an eyebrow at her but doesn’t push her to say anything. It takes a minute, but she manages to quietly ask, “Are you sure your girlfriend wouldn’t mind you hanging out with me tonight?”

His eyebrows furrow, unsure of what she’s talking about or how she got that idea. “What?”

“You know, your girlfriend?”

He leans forward on the table, “You lost me. What girlfriend?”

“That girl you left with last Thursday. Redhead, pretty, wouldn’t stop touching you?”

Katy. She thinks he’s going out with Katy. “No. No, no, no. She’s not… she’s not my girlfriend. We were best friends growing up, but she moved away a couple of years ago. She was in town for a friend’s birthday, that was the first time I had seen her since she moved.”

“Oh.”

“Wait, when did you see us leave? You weren’t at the bar.”

She starts playing with her cardigan, like that night at Poor Richard’s, a nervous response he’s noticed her do a few times since then. “I went to the bathroom. I had just walked back out as you guys were leaving. Her hand was around you, so I thought…”

“I looked for you.”

She looks up at him, now looking just as confused as he feels, “You did?”

“Yeah, before we left, and again when we were walking out. I didn’t see you anywhere. I thought you left.”

“I guess I didn’t think you’d leave before I got back. I mean, I don’t blame you. She’s…” she trails off.

He waits a moment until he realizes she’s leaving the sentence unfinished. But he knows what she means, and he shakes his head, bewildered over the fact that she could ever think he couldn’t possibly like her as more than just a friend. That he would have chosen Katy over her if he had the choice. “No, Katy is… great. I mean, we were best friends for a reason. But that’s all we were. Just friends. We’ve never… I’ve never wanted to…”

Her voice is so quiet, he can barely hear her over the cheesy Italian music and the dinner chatter happening around them, “So, why did you leave with her?”

“I thought you left. She invited me to The Bog, and I wasn’t going to go, but then I couldn’t find you, so I went. I figured after the whole incident with Roy, and then me bugging you, you just wanted to go home. Plus, you said you have a boyfriend, so—”

“I did?”

“Well, you told me that you told Roy you have a boyfriend, so… I just figured.”

She chuckles, “I guess we’re pretty good at assuming things, aren’t we?”

“I guess so.” He smiles and pauses, unsure of what to say next. She’s looking at him, her eyes mirroring his, sparkling with hope and curiosity of what comes next. “Can I make one more assumption?”

“Sure.”

“Can I assume that you are free for dinner tomorrow night?”

She grins and her short nods are earnest, he would find it amusing if he didn’t find it so damn cute. “Yes.”

“Alright, then… it’s a date. A real one, this time.”

 

***

 

Two weeks later, they’re laying down in bed at Jim’s apartment. His eyes are closed, arm wrapped around her waist, as she traces shapes on his bare chest. It’s only been three weeks since they’ve met, two since they’ve started going out, but he doesn’t think it could get better than this.

He feels her head move, her chin resting on his chest. “Jim?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I make my last assumption?”

He opens his eyes and looks down at her, “Sure.”

“You were never going to tell me that you liked me if I didn’t ask about Katy, were you?”

He shrugs, “Maybe one day I would have. Probably would have made some big declaration of my love for you once I couldn’t take it anymore.”

She rolls her eyes, “Yeah, right.”

“Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know,” she lays her head back down on his chest, moving her hand to trace along his stomach, “I guess I was just thinking how we could have wasted so much more time than we did if things were different, you know? Like if you really did have a girlfriend or if I didn’t say anything or whatever.”

He tightens his grip on her a little, pulling her closer. He suddenly feels protective, hating the thought of their lives being any different than they are right now. “Yeah.”

“But I’m so glad we didn’t.”

“Me too, Beesly.”

Her hand slides up his stomach and then his chest, her fingers tangling themselves in his hair as she pulls him down for a kiss. As they get lost in each other’s kiss and then bodies and then the sheets, he tries to show her how much he means it.