Oh this one was easy. Pam knew from the moment she saw him walk out of the bathroom wearing his grey Scranton University t-shirt and black basketball shorts, that she was going to find that particular Thursday incredibly hard to focus on anything other than Jim Halpert. 

As she watched him leaning over in the grey chair to tie up his shoe, doing her best not to let her eyes linger for too long, Pam watched how the grey fabric stretched across his shoulders. His shoulders, that now she thought about it, were much broader than she'd realised. She'd only really seen his forearms under his rolled up button downs, but the sleeves of the t-shirt stopped much higher, exposing flesh of his that she'd never seen before. She watched as his biceps and triceps flexed against each other, and she felt a blush creep up from her chest. Her eyes darted away before he could catch her staring at his arms, and she did the only thing she knew how to deflect the situation, make a joke and talk about Roy. 

But it didn't work. Even with her then fiancé running around the warehouse right in front of her, Pam couldn't keep her eyes off of Jim. He sank hoop after hoop after hoop, and each time he jumped to throw the ball into the net, his grey shirt rode up just a little bit so that Pam could see a sliver of his toned stomach. The first time it happened, she grew wide eyed and quickly looked down at the floor, wondering if anyone else had noticed, or if they had noticed her noticing his stomach. But when she realised that no one sitting with her was paying attention to the game or to her, she allowed herself to look, and to pray it happened again. And it did, several times.

The more Jim played, the sweatier he got and Pam couldn't get enough. His hair clung to his forehead and the shirt got dark stains in all the right places. She watched his chest move up and down under heavy breaths, not realising before that she'd never seen how defined he was. She got lost in a daydream wondering what it would be like to slowly peel the damp grey shirt from him to reveal his toned stomach and muscular chest. It was only when the kerfuffle of Roy elbowing Jim in the face broke her out of her trance, that she knew she needed to pull herself together. 

It was Roy. Roy was who she was with. Jim would need to stay firmly locked away in a box deep, deep down. Because she was with Roy. She loved Roy. And she really shouldn't be thinking about Jim, with his sweaty hair clinging to his head, deep gasping breaths and pulling off that damn grey t-shirt.

--

But the next time she saw that Scranton University t-shirt, she absolutely could think those things. And more. Jim and Pam had been together about six weeks when she first went to watch him play basketball. It had been more of an accident really, rather than actively acting like a teenager watching her boyfriend from the bleachers. She'd been at the community centre one Saturday afternoon to discuss a project for her art class with her tutor and wasn't due to meet up with Jim until later that evening for dinner. She knew he was seeing Mark, but they hadn't decided what they were going to do yet. So as Pam passed by one of the gyms and happened to look through one of the porthole windows, she wasn't expecting to see an old grey t-shirt for the first time in almost three years.  

As she stood at the door and stared at Jim's effortless dribbling before he jumped to make a hoop, Pam couldn't help but bite her lower lip. After weeks of dating, a sweaty, heavy breathing Jim was something she had grown accustomed to, but seeing him out on the court for the first time in years stirred something different in her. It reminded her of the secret lust that she held so deeply hidden within herself. Of the years that she'd spent convincing herself that Jim was just a friend. Of how she'd lied to herself, and to him. And immediately she knew that she needed to make it up to him. 

She opened the door just enough so that she could slip in unnoticed and stood so flat against the wall, a passerby would think that she was trying to become part of it. She watched Jim running up and down the court, just as she had all those years ago, and she still couldn't take her eyes off of him. Just as he was high fiving Mark for scoring another point, Jim noticed Pam standing at the side and his face broke out into a huge smile.

"Hey," he panted as he jogged over to where Pam was leaning against the wall. He stopped just short of her and ran his hand through his damp hair, before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it up to mop his sweaty forehead. Pam's eyes were instantly drawn to his toned stomach, just as they had been back at the warehouse years prior, and she felt a pooling low in her belly. 

Before she could even say hi back, Pam practically launched herself at Jim. She grabbed onto the old t-shirt and fisted it in her hand as she kissed him hard on the lips. Immediately there was whooping and cheering coming from somewhere behind Jim, but he just waved them off, before bringing his hand around to Pam's cheek. She moaned into the kiss before she tried to pull him even closer. When they eventually pulled apart, Jim was grinning like a maniac, while Pam felt herself flushing red at what she had just done in front of Jim's friends, and also a bunch of random strangers.  

"You ok there, Beesly?" he asked with a small laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

"Sorry," she said shyly. "I was just kind of excited to see you."

"You never need to apologise for that," he said, his own cheeks tingeing slightly with pinkness. 

"And I wasn't expecting to see this," she said, tugging on his t-shirt.

"My ratty old Scranton U shirt?" he laughed. "Does it do it for you or something?" When she didn't answer, but quirked her eyebrow slightly before looking down at the ground, he audibly gulped. "Oh," he whispered. 

"Come on Halpert," one of the guys on the court shouted. 

"Want to, um, wanna wait for me? I'm almost done here," Jim asked. Pam nodded before sending him back to finish the game with a kiss.

As her back hit the wall of Jim's hallway some 30 minutes later, Pam clung to Jim's sweat-soaked t-shirt. She wanted to do everything she could to show him that he was the one she wanted, he was the one she'd always wanted, that he always would be. She poured herself into him, hoping that every kiss, every caress, would show him just how much she loved him. And when his damp t-shirt hit the floor with a thud, and he was breathing heavily over her, because of her, with his hair yet again clinging to his forehead, she knew that he absolutely did, and always would.

It started on their very first date. After dinner, Jim suggested that he and Pam take a walk around McDade Park because he had no intention of this night ending early. Pam readily agreed, because funnily enough, she felt exactly the same way. So, they walked around the playground, passed the basketball court and before long, they were almost at the tennis courts. And that's when it happened.

Just as Pam happened to look up at Jim, he looked down at her,paused and took her hand in his, stopping her in her tracks. "I...I -," he stammered. 

"I know," she cut in, tiptoeing up to press her mouth to his. She immediately dropped her purse on the ground, and brought both of her hands to his shoulders. As soon as she felt his arms wrap around her waist and pull her closer to him, she moved her hand further up to run her fingers through his hair, just as she had done last May. He groaned slightly at the feel of her as their kiss deepened, but before long, Pam was pulling back slightly to stare up at him with a shy smile.

"That was," he began with a wide smile, lightly ghosting her bare arms with his fingertips.

"I know," she smiled up at him, but a shiver ran over her from his touch.

"Are you cold?" Jim asked, his voice suddenly full of concern. 

"No," Pam replied with a shy smile and a shake of her head, before reaching up to kiss him again. She pressed herself against him, and they lost themselves in the moment until they heard giggling from some passers-by and sprung apart. 

They tried to hide their smiles, but nothing could wipe the grins off of their faces. So instead, Jim reached for Pam's hand, kissed the back of it and nodded towards the path so that they could continue their slow amble around the park. Just as they reached a large cherry blossom tree, a cool breeze blew, sending pink petals flying their way and a slight chill across them both. Pam felt Jim's shoulders shiver and his spine straighten slightly next to her where their arms were touching, skin on skin. 

"Are you cold?" Pam asked, looking up at him.

"Kinda, yeah," he said as he rubbed his hand that wasn't holding Pam's over his goose-pimpled arm, the back of his fingers brushing against her skin. 

Pam reached into her purse and pulled out her pink cardigan that she had brought with her just in case it turned cooler. "You're welcome to this if you want?" she said with a slight giggle, holding the cardigan out to Jim. 

"I think I'm good," Jim laughed, as he slipped his arm around Pam and pulled her against his chest. "You'll just have to keep me warm instead." 

"So cheesy," she laughed into his polo shirt, before reaching up to kiss him once more.

-- 

The following Sunday, three days after their first date, and the evening of their fourth, technically third date, Jim picked Pam up from her apartment approximately two hours after she had left his. He'd insisted that she stay, doing anything he could to get her to, but Pam was adamant about getting fresh clothes for dinner that evening. Clothes that she hadn't left Dunder Mifflin wearing two days beforehand. Jim had eventually relented, despite his puppy dog eyes and doing everything that he could to keep Pam in bed with him. She'd laughed at him and swatted away his roving hands as she tried to leave. But two hours later, those hands were back at it as soon as Pam opened her front door. 

"And hello to you too," she laughed as they pulled apart. "Come in for a minute? I just need to grab something."

"Sure," Jim replied as he stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him. He watched Pam dart into her living room before running back out with a large gift bag and an even larger smile on her face. "What's this?" he asked as he eyed the bag that Pam was holding out in front of her towards him.

"Open it," she said, jiggling the bag slightly. 

He took the bag and looked up at Pam with a smile. She stood still in front of him, her hands clasped behind her back, bouncing up and down on her toes in anticipation. She watched as Jim pushed the green tissue paper to the side and reached his hand inside. He pulled out a navy blue cardigan, and looked at her with a confused but happy face.

"You know, for when it gets cold," she smiled. "So I don't have to offer you mine again," she giggled.

"I love it, thank you," Jim said, before leaning down to pull Pam in for a deep kiss. "When did you even have a chance to buy this?  We haven't left each other's side since Thursday evening."

"It was Friday afternoon when Michael sent me to pick up his dry cleaning. I passed this menswear store and thought I'd see if they had any. And then I just made a quick trip home to drop it off, so you would be surprised." 

"Well, I am surprised," he smiled. "It's awesome, thank you." He put the gift bag onto the floor, pulled the tag off of the cardigan's label and slipped it over his plain white t-shirt. He slowly did the buttons up on the cardigan, before shoving his hands into the back pockets of his blue jeans and looking bashfully down at Pam. "How's it look?" Jim asked, his cheeks tinged with pink. 

"Really good," Pam whispered with a sly smile as she stepped towards Jim and tiptoed up to kiss him. She walked him backwards until he was pushed up against the wall and ran her hands up his chest, but stopped before she reached his shoulders, and instead made her way back down towards his belt. She felt him groan when she stopped just above where he clearly wanted her hands to be, and Pam smiled into their kiss. She began to slowly unbutton Jim's new cardigan, before reaching up to push it off of his shoulders. His white t-shirt soon followed, along with Pam's yellow t-shirt, and before long, the brand new cardigan was forgotten under a pile of discarded clothes that stayed there until they tripped over them while getting ready for work the next morning. 

--

Washed and pressed, the blue cardigan was what Jim chose to wear to meet Pam's parents one Sunday evening at Casa Bella. He paired it with a blue gingham shirt and grey and blue tie that Pam had assured him that her mom would love. She did, of course, and had complimented him on his good manners to wear a tie to dinner. The cardigan definitely ended up on the floor again following that dinner when they got home. Pam was so amazed at how Jim had impressed her parents, that she'd ripped the cardigan off of him, causing a button to pop off in her scramble. She'd promised to sew the button back on. She never did. 

For Jim's birthday the following year, his mom bought him a chunky knit black cardigan, and he realised this was a look he kind of liked. And Pam really liked it. Not so much the look, but more so the actual cardigan. Whenever Jim would wear it around the house on a cold and cozy Sunday afternoon, Pam would inevitably find some way to get him out of it and wrap herself up in it, before snuggling up against Jim as he read a book or a sports magazine. He'd just roll his eyes and chuckle to himself. The times that she wore just that cardigan had him rolling his eyes in an altogether different way. 

For Athleap's ten year anniversary, the management board decided it was time to update their headshots on the company website. Jim had protested; he saw nothing wrong with the early 30s version of himself that greeted potential clients, but the CEO had other ideas. So a stylist was brought in, plus hair and makeup, and Jim found himself wearing a Gucci cardigan, having to lean up against some wall, being told to look pensively at the camera. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing and if it was correct, or if he just looked constipated, but when he heard a small laugh coming from somewhere behind the camera, he knew he was never going to live down that moment. Pam had appeared, full of giggled apologies. At that point, Jim had taken the cardigan off, thrown it on the floor and diva stropped his way back to his office. Pam couldn't stop her laughing, even when she asked the stylist if she could keep the designer cardigan. She was told no.

In the years that they've been together, Jim's owned many cardigans, but it would always be that dark blue one, his first ever cardigan, that Pam loved the most.

It wasn't the first thing she noticed, but it was all Pam could look at in her embarrassment. The morning after their first date, the alarm clock woke Jim and Pam from their slumber with groans. After a night of very little sleep, the beeping that awoke them was less than welcome, and it also brought with it the reality of needing to be at Dunder Mifflin within the next two hours.

"Do we really have to go to work today?" Jim moaned into Pam's hair as he spooned her from behind, his arms wrapped tightly around her. 

"I really wish we didn't," Pam said with a pout as she tickled her fingers up and down Jim's arm that was across her stomach, "but Michael is having a call with Ryan this afternoon and he wants me to do his hair and make up for it." 

"For a phone call?" Jim laughed.

"I know, I know," Pam groaned, turning in Jim's arms to face him. "I tried to tell him, but he said that he wants to make the best impression on Ryan now that he's his boss, and that he would be able to tell, even through the phone." 

"Well, sounds like your day is going to be fun then. At least more fun than my day anyway," he sighed, thinking about the expense reports that needed to be filled in and the cold calls that he needed to make. "How about we stay here just a little longer?" he suggested, pulling the cover over their heads, but Pam stopped him.

"I really want to," she said, giving him a small chaste kiss, which Jim immediately tried to deepen. She relented for a few moments, before regretfully putting her hand on Jim's bare chest to push him away. "But you need to take me home so I can shower and get changed before work." 

"You could shower here," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah I don't think that's a good idea," she laughed. "We'd never make it to work."

"Is that such a bad thing?" he asked, moving back in to kiss her, but she ducked out of the way. 

"Come on, don't make this harder than it is," she warned. The corners of Jim's mouth turned up ever so slightly and Pam could see what he was about to say. "And don't even think about saying that."

Jim just laughed, before pressing a kiss to Pam's forehead. "Alright, alright," he sighed. "How about I grab a quick shower, and then take you home?"

"You might want to get dressed after the shower," she grinned.

"Ok smarty pants," Jim said, reaching under the covers to tickle Pam. 

"Stop!" she squealed. "But yes, that sounds like a plan. Ok, I'm gonna grab a little more sleep while you shower."

"So unfair," he groaned as he pulled the cover back and jumped out of bed. Pam gulped slightly as she watched Jim walk naked across his room to the bathroom, unable to tear her eyes away from his ass. "If you want any juice or tea or anything, just help yourself," Jim called as he reached the bathroom door. 

"Mhmm," Pam answered through pursed lips as she shot her eyes up to the ceiling, feeling herself flush at what she had had just been doing. Which was silly, she knew, because she could look. She had looked. And felt. And squeezed. But that was all under the cover of darkness and first date giddiness. In the harsh light of the morning she felt a little shyer, a little more cautious, a little more aware of the transition that they were making from best friends to more than that.

Pam tried to close her eyes, tried to sleep, but she just couldn't. She could hear the sound of the shower and couldn't stop thinking about Jim standing under the hot water, it pouring all over his body as he ran his hands through his wet hair and over his chest and stomach, lathering up his body wash. She really wished that she'd given in and had the shower with him. Top five regrets of her life. Pam had sat up and was just debating whether she should actually go and join him, when the door opened and Jim walked out.

Pam felt her heart stop. She didn't know where to look. 

He smiled an easy smile, totally oblivious to what he was doing to her, and walked over to his chest of drawers before he began rifling through the top drawer. Pam watched him as he bent over, drops of water falling from his still wet hair to his broad shoulders. Her eyes were transfixed on the droplet as it rolled from his shoulder, down his smooth back and hit the navy blue towel that was slung low around his waist. As he turned, she came face to face with the blue fabric where it covered his crotch, and she quickly lowered her eyes to the hem of the towel, where it hung around his shins. She concentrated on the patten around the edge of the towel, trying desperately hard not to think about what was underneath. 

"You ok there?" Jim asked, walking over to Pam, causing her eyes to travel up the towel slightly, landing on the tucked in knot of fabric below his left hip. 

"Um," was all she could say as her eyes swept across to the trail of hair disappearing from his belly button underneath the towel. 

"Beesly," he laughed, "I said are you ok? You're looking a little warm."

"Oh, um, yeah, no, I'm good," she lied, feeling her face flush even more. 

"Yeah right," he smirked. "What's going on?" He sat down on the bed, causing the edge of the towel that had been tightly tucked in to fall loose. 

"It's, um, it's your towel," she finally said.

"My towel?" he guffawed, standing up, but with the towel now untucked, it fell away from Jim's hips. He caught it, holding it to his body with one hand over his groin. His lightly toned stomach clenched slightly as he grabbed the towel, causing his muscles to flex. Pam groaned and fell backwards onto the bed, pulling the covers over her head. "What?" he asked as he tucked the towel back around his hips. "I don't get it."

"You just look really good in it," Pam's muffled reply came from under Jim's comforter. 

Jim blushed as he ducked his head and tried to bite his smile back. He pulled back the cover slightly so that he could just see the top of Pam's head and her eyes. "You know, you look pretty good in my sheets."

"Wow," Pam giggled, "that was so cheesy." She pulled the comforter lower and tucked it under her arms so that it just covered her chest. "So, um," she began, the blush already rising on her cheeks, "I think we're gonna be a little late for work if we stop at mine."

"I think you should probably shower here, don't you?" he said, leaning down to kiss her. 

"Probably," she whispered against his lips.  

"Wanna borrow my towel?"  

"Maybe we could share?" she shrugged with a smile.  

"Absolutely we can," he said, pulling Pam up from the bed. 

Just before Jim scooped her up to carry her to the bathroom, Pam tugged on the towel where it was tucked snuggly against his hip. As the heavy material hit the floor with a thud, Pam smiled to herself knowing that this was the first of many, many nice mornings to come. 

It felt like the worst feeling in the world when she saw it. It was Christmas morning, their first Christmas morning together, and they were spending it at Pam's parents' house. Pam had assumed that they would be spending Christmas with their own families, and meeting up sometime after dinner, but Jim had no intention of waking up on their first Christmas together without Pam next to him. That, and the fact that his own parents had announced they were going on a cruise that left on December 14th and that they wouldn't be back until the 28th, and that all their kids could find other homes for two weeks. Jim had taken it kind of badly, but Pam had cheered him up with promises of her mom's special eggnog recipe, as many Christmas movies as he could take and absolutely not a pair of matching pyjamas in sight.

So as the Beeslys and Jim sat around on the floor and the couches in their mismatching pyjamas on Christmas morning, Pam felt confident that this was going to be the best Christmas that she'd ever had. They took turns ripping into their gifts, with eager eyes waiting for hopefully excited expressions, until Pam picked up a squishy present, wrapped in white and gold paper. 

"This one is for Jim," she smiled, holding out the gift to Jim. He took it with a smile, and Pam went to sit next to him with a plop onto the worn brown leather couch. 

"Oh thanks Helene," he grinned after reading the tag. He tore into the sparkly paper to reveal grey wool and that's when he felt Pam stiffen beside him.  

"It's a sweater!" Helene exclaimed, as Jim pulled the item out of the packaging. "I made it for you Jim."

"Excuse me," Pam said quietly, before running out of the room. 

"Pammy?" Helene shouted after her daughter. She went to stand up, but Jim stopped her. 

"You stay, I'll go see if she's ok," Jim said reassuringly. Helene nodded in agreement and watched Jim calmly walk out of the living room, closing the door behind him. He walked up the stairs, sure that he would find Pam on the bed in the guest room where they were staying. And sure enough, that's exactly where she was. Except Jim hadn't quite expected her to be sobbing into a pillow. "Hey, hey. Beesly, what's going on?" he asked, stroking her back slowly. He was about to jokingly ask if she really hated the sweater that much, but decided now probably wasn't the best time to joke, seeing as she clearly did hate the sweater. 

"Sorry," Pam sniffed, sitting up to face him with bloodshot eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.  

"What's going on?" he repeated, pulling her closer to rest her head in the crook of his shoulder. When she didn't answer, he kissed the top of her head and rubbed his hand slowly up and down her arm. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Pam finally worked up the courage to talk. She sat up straighter and fidgeted with her hands, but couldn't look at him. 

"It's that wool. It's the," she sniffed, tears spilling down her cheeks again, "same as the one," sniff, "my mom made for me," she squeaked.

"The one you wore the first day I came back," he said quietly, taking her hand in his and bringing it onto his lap. She nodded next to him and tried to slow her tears. "You looked so pretty that day."

"You didn't even look at me that day," she said quietly.

"Pam, are you kidding me?" he said in utter shock, forcing her to look up at him. "I literally couldn't take my eyes off you. It took every single ounce of strength I had in me to not stare at you all day long." Pam let out a silent laugh through her nose as her eyebrow quirked ever so slightly. "I'm serious," he said, realising she didn't believe him. He took her hand from his lap and held it to his chest causing her to turn round to face him. "Since I met you, you're the only woman I've ever wanted to look at. And yeah, I had some distractions along the way, but I needed to. I was killing myself thinking about you 24/7. And I guess that's why I asked Karen out the day before I came back to the office, because I just knew I couldn't cope being in the same room as you again. Knowing that you didn't feel the same way about me that I felt about you." 

"But I did," she tried to protest. 

"But I didn't know that at the time." He dropped her hand and lent his elbows on his knees, ducking his head down. "I'm so sorry Pam. God I was such a fucking moron to you. To both of you." He felt Pam's hand on his back and turned his head to the side slightly before looking up at her. "I really am sorry." 

"I know, I know. I'm sorry too," Pam said with a sigh. "I'm sorry for bringing this up again, I honestly didn't mean to." Jim nodded solemnly. "I guess, it was just seeing that wool again, it just brought it all back. Remember when Michael let all the air out of our tires?" Jim nodded again, this time with a slight laugh as he closed his eyes at the memory. "It was freezing out and I wrapped that stupid cardigan so tightly around me to try and stay warm. And then that's when I saw Karen put her hand on your back, and my world just kind of fell apart." Tears were beginning to fall down her face again. 

"Come here," Jim said, pulling her back to his chest again.

"And when I got home, I still had that stupid cardigan on, and it was cold, so I remember pulling it around me again. And then I couldn't stop picturing her hand on your back, just over and over in my head. And I took it off and just threw it across my room and I'm pretty sure I spent the rest of the night crying into my pillow." She wiped at her tear stained face and tried to slow her breathing. "Sorry," she said with a shake of her head against Jim's chest, "again." 

"I'm so sorry I ever made you feel like that," he said, tilting her head up so that she would finally look at him. "I promise that I never, ever will again." Pam nodded slightly at his apology. "And I will never wear that sweater, I'll just hide it until we leave here and then donate it to Goodwill as soon as I can."

"No, don't be silly, you don't need to do that," she protested.

"And have you cry like that again? Absolutely not," he said, pushing a loose curl behind her ear. 

"Well, maybe we could wear them out together one day, the sweater and cardigan I mean," she began. "Like maybe we could go on a date or something, and maybe create some new memories?" 

"Well that sounds like a plan to me," he smiled, before lowering his lips to meet hers. 

--

And that's how, three days later, Jim and Pam found themselves having the first alfresco sex of their relationship. They'd been out for dinner to a new Thai place that Jim wanted to try and Pam had thought it would be a great place to create some new memories for their clothes. And it really was. The food was amazing, and the wine was even better. And when they stumbled out of the restaurant hours later, they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Jim suggested they go for a walk to Nay Aug Park to sober up a little before they got a cab home, and Pam giggled in agreement. Before long, Jim had her pressed up against a tree in the abandoned park, and as Pam's hand found its way into his pants, he said a silent prayer for the late hour and lack of streetlights in the park. It didn't take much for Pam to free Jim from his pants, or for him to hike her blue skirt up, and as he pushed himself inside of her, burying his head into her cardigan as he did so, Pam clutched his grey wool cladded chest tightly, knowing that this was the memory that she would always think of when Jim wore that sweater. 

She didn't notice it at first. It was one of those things that slowly crept up on her. They'd been home from the hospital for about 30 minutes, and with Philip asleep in his bassinet, they sat down on the couch, Jim's arm around Pam and her head on his shoulder, to just stare at their new baby. 

"Why were we so frazzled when we brought Cece home from the hospital?" Jim asked, his gaze not moving from his new son. "Babies just lay there. It's the toddlers that are the hard work." 

"Well, we didn't really know what we were doing, and she took a while to latch," she sighed against Jim. "But, there's gonna be two of them now, it's gonna be way harder." 

"Nah, it'll be fine. This guy is just gonna chill, and it'll be like normal."

"Yeah, right," Pam laughed, turning to look up at Jim. "You can't be serious?"

"Babe, he's just laying there. He's not made a peep since we brought him home. So it's just gonna be like normal when Cece comes home. And when you feed him, I'll make her dinner. We got this. Team work," he said, holding his hand up for a high five.

"If you say so," she laughed, raising her hand up to pat Jim's. "When are your parents bringing Cees home?"

"Should be about now," he said, looking at his watch. "Want me to call my mom and see where they are?" Before Pam could even reply, they heard the front door open and the voices of Jim's parents trying to shush Cece from the hallway. "We're in the living room," Jim shouted out to them.

"Shhhh," Pam hissed, bending over the bassinet. "You'll wake him."

Jim just rolled his eyes at her as he pressed his hands to his thighs and pushed himself up from the couch. He returned several minutes later, holding Cece on his hip, while she clutched a very ratty looking stuffed rabbit. "Look Cees," he whispered, hovering her over the bassinet so she could see her sleeping brother.

"Baby," Cece said as she pointed to the crib and looked up at Jim.

"Yeah, he's your brother."

"Bruddah," she repeated. "Bruddah. Mama, bruddah."

"I know Cece," Pam said, holding out her arms for Jim to pass Cece to her. 

"You ok with them both if I go get some dinner for us?" Jim asked. He took in Pam's horrified expression as she stared up at him. "It'll be fine, I promise. Phil's asleep, and look, here," he said, grabbing a book for Cece, "why don't you read to her." Pam gingerly took the book, before Jim pressed kisses to both her and Cece's heads and then left the room. "You'll be fine," he called.

But she wasn't. And that's how it began.

Cece had started screaming that she didn't want to read the book, which had woken Philip up, who then started crying, which then caused Cece to cry. Pam tried to get Philip to latch, but Cece kept trying to climb onto Pam as well, almost squashing her brother in the process. Pam had called for Jim to come and take Cece from her, but he was in the middle of his own crisis, somehow burning spaghetti in a pot of boiling water. He eventually came in, pulling his grey t-shirt off that was now covered in splashes of tomato sauce.

"I thought you said this was gonna be easy," Pam said sarcastically.

Jim ignored her. "Come on Cees, let's go get daddy a new shirt huh?" he said, holding out his hand to Cece. When she shook her head and then tried to wiggle her way underneath Pam's back, Jim pulled her out and carried her upstairs with him, kicking and screaming the whole way up.

And that was just the start. By the end of the evening, Jim had changed his shirt four more times. Once with a poop explosion when he changed Philip. Another when he missed his mouth and spilt more tomato sauce down himself. The next was when Phil peed on him during another diaper change, so he thought he'd keep it on as it wasn't so bad, but then Cece drenched him at bath time, so that shirt had to go too. And finally when Jim and Pam were laying in bed and Pam passed Philip over to Jim for burping, and Philip sicked up all down his back.

"Yeah, I think I'm good like this," Jim laughed, as he threw his shirt onto the growing pile of dirty laundry in their room before laying back down topless next to Pam.

"If I hadn't just had your baby, and wasn't holding said baby, I would totally agree," she smirked. "Here, hold this," she said, passing Philip back to Jim so that she could button up her nursing bra. Jim sat up slightly, resting his bare back against the headboard so that he could hold the baby. "I really need to get some laundry done tomorrow," Pam sighed, looking around the room.

"Nope," Jim said, very matter of factly.

"Jim," she said, eyebrows knitted together. "I really need to wash our clothes, we're running out."

"Yeah, we really do need clean clothes, but you won't be doing any laundry, I will. As you said, you literally just had my baby, so I'm gonna do all the chores this week. And don't even think of arguing with me."

Pam smiled at him, before leaning over to press a kiss to his slightly stubbled cheek. "I love you," she said quietly.

The next day brought more chaos, with Philip vomiting over everything in sight, Cece clinging to whichever of her parents was holding her brother, and Pam getting the baby blues, causing her to weep at everything. Jim ran from one crisis to another, and as he tossed his third shirt of the day onto the ever growing pile of laundry that was now taking up most of their bedroom floor, he sighed and vowed to get the laundry done the next day.

Which he did. Just not for any of his clothes. He managed to get two loads done, one for each of the kids. He washed, dried, and folded although didn't quite put everything away, but he really tried. 

The next morning, Jim stumbled out of bed after around five hours of broken sleep and made his way to the bathroom. He knew he wouldn't have enough time for a shower, so instead quickly splashed some water on his face, brushed his teeth and sprayed some deodorant on. He tiptoed back into the bedroom, careful not to wake his sleeping son, and made his way over to his closet. He pulled on his mostly clean jeans, found his very last clean white undershirt, and then went to look for a sweater or long sleeved tee, but found nothing. He rummaged through his work shirts, and eventually found an old black and white checkered flannel button down that he hadn't worn in years. When he went to do up the buttons, he realised why. Most of the buttons were missing, other than one at the very bottom. He tipped his head back and sighed quietly in annoyance so as not to wake the baby, and then went about his day with his shirt flapped open.

"Where's that come from?" Pam asked as he brought the cereal over to the breakfast table. "I thought you threw it out years ago?"

"Throw out the wild s-e-x shirt?" he said, covering Cece's ears as he spoke. "Are you crazy? This shirt is like a trophy for me from that night. And also, it's currently the only clean thing I own right now, so I'm trying to be very careful that I don't get milk, or vomit, or poop down it." Pam just laughed and shook her head, causing her to drop her spoonful of cereal on both herself and Philip who she was feeding. "I'm gonna need you to be a little more careful Mrs Halpert, you're running dangerously low on clothes too." He walked over to the counter to make Cece some toast, before going upstairs to grab a clean muslin for Philip, and then back upstairs to get a doll that Cece was crying about having lost. Finally, he sat down to eat some cereal, and realised the milk was all gone. "I'll just run out to the store," he sighed. He saw Pam's look of terror on her face at the prospect of being left with both kids. "And I'll take Cees with me, don't worry."

By the time Jim was actually able to sit down to eat the bowl of cereal, it was sometime in the afternoon. But at that point, there were no clean spoons in the house, and as he reached for the last bowl, he realised that it had some crusted-on oatmeal that the dishwasher clearly hadn't been able to shift. He was about to grab some bread to make a grilled cheese sandwich, but then heard Pam shouting for help and ran to see what was happening.

He mopped up yet another poop explosion and then went to bathe Cece who had been caught in the crossfire. Just as he brought the clean toddler back down to the living room, he heard a rumbling coming from his stomach, causing Pam to laugh.

"You ok there?" she giggled.

"I haven't had a chance to eat today, and I'm starving."

"You sit, let me make you something," Pam offered, carefully standing up so as to not wake Philip who was sleeping on her.

"Definitely not," he said, "you stay right there." He wandered into the kitchen and on autopilot set about gathering all the items for his grilled cheese sandwich. It was when he couldn't feel the cheese in its usual spot that he realised he'd eaten the last of it at lunch yesterday. "Gahhh," he shouted out, causing Pam to come running, with Cece following closely behind. 

"What happened? Are you ok?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

"Yeah, just we're out of cheese, and I was gonna make a sandwich."

"I think we've got some mac and cheese in the cupboard?" Pam suggested.

"Nah, I'll just make some scrambled eggs," he sighed. "Want some?"

Pam brightly smiled. "You know how much I love your eggs. They're so good."

"I take it that's a yes then," he laughed.

"Yes please." She went to the refrigerator to get the milk and eggs, but as she put her hand on the handle, Jim stopped her.

"Go sit back down," he said nodding towards the living room, "I'll bring it in when it's ready." Pam smiled at him gratefully and headed out of the door, whilst Cece stayed behind in the kitchen to ‘help'. 

After about 20 minutes, far longer than it should have taken for scrambled eggs to be made, Pam ventured back to the kitchen to find out what was taking so long. Just as she rounded the corner of the doorframe, she spotted Jim and Cece dancing together to some nursery rhyme that Jim had put on the CD player. Pam leaned against the wall cradling Philip and watched them dance obliviously in their own happy little world. She gazed at the way the shirt flapped around Jim's torso as he moved, before he wrapped it around Cece when he picked her up. As he was holding their daughter, Jim noticed Pam staring at them and smiled, inviting her to join their dancing. The four of them jumped and boogied around their messy kitchen, blissfully happy without a care in the world. 

Later that evening, long after the scrambled eggs had been eaten, Cece had been put to bed and Philip was dozing in his bassinet, Jim finally plopped himself down on the couch. He wiped his hands that were still wet with dishwater on his jeans and pulled a doll out from underneath him before he was finally comfortable. "Hey," he smiled up at Pam before he felt his eyes grow heavy. 

"Hey," she grinned back as she watched him fall asleep. As his eyes fluttered shut, Pam took in his boyish face, that had somehow grown older over the last few days. His unwashed hair was sticking up in all directions, there were various stains down his white t-shirt and he was missing a sock. But Pam had never been more in love with him. As she looked at the checkered shirt clinging to his tired body, she knew that the crazy sex memories she once associated with it had now been replaced with those of a loving father, caring husband and the most supportive best friend she could have ever asked for.