DISCLAIMER: Other than a few episodes I bought on iTunes, I own absolutely nothing related to The Office, neither do I have any relation to anyone involved with the show. (And that makes me kind of sad.)

She doesn’t know why she needs three pillows. One for her head and one on each side. That’s just how she had always slept ever since she was a little girl. She tried weaning herself off of them one by one, but she never slept well that way, so she gave up trying. Maybe it was because three pillows made her feel secure, safe. Maybe she was just weird.

Even when she was with Roy, she needed at least two. Of course, he’d always complain that there wasn’t enough room on the bed for the both of them and a pillow. One night she tried sleeping with just the one under her head, tried cuddling up to Roy. But he just grunted and turned so that his back was facing her. She tossed and turned for hours that night, until finally she just gave in and grabbed her second pillow. And that’s how she slept every night, Roy on her left, and her big, fluffy pillow on the right. At least on the nights he was actually home.

Since she moved out and got her own place, she’s been back to sleeping with her three pillows. But for some reason, those three pillows just didn’t seem to be as comforting as they used to be. She tried getting extra firm pillows, then those long body pillows. Still, something was wrong, missing. Though she never felt quite as rested or secure as she did when she was a kid, sleeping with three pillows was better than tossing and turning all night with just one or two.

One morning she woke up and realized she had forgotten to set up her three pillows. And yet, she realized she didn’t miss them. The next night she remembered, but she only set up two: one under her head, and the other at her right side. The next morning she laughed when she saw that the pillow that had been at her side had somehow ended up on the floor. For the next few nights, she only slept with one pillow, at her head. It didn’t take her long to realize that she didn’t even need that one.

Sleeping next to Jim was better than sleeping with all the pillows in the world.

Disclaimer: Still don’t own anything Office-related. Not even the DVDs. Guess Santa didn’t think I was good enough last year. :-(

She knows she’s being way too one-track minded, but she can’t help it.

Even though it was already 9:00 PM, she made him stop at the nearest grocery store and ask for an empty box. As soon as they get through her front door, he’s forgotten, left standing just inside the doorway with a bemused smile on his face. She headed straight for her closet, box in hand, while she removed her sparkly ballet flats and promptly tossed them in. He chuckled as she plopped herself on the floor in front of her closet and started tossing shoes into the box. Not all her shoes, just the flats. Anything with a heel less than 3 inches gets tossed (except for a pair of sneakers, for working out of course). She had always been one for comfort, but Fancy New Beesley could give a damn about comfort so long as he couldn’t pull that stunt again.

“Come on, Pam, it was just a joke. I promise I’ll never do it again.”

She glared at him for a moment before returning to the task at hand.

He walked over to her and kneeled down as he wrapped his arms around her, and she stopped. Not just because he’s pinned her arms to her sides, but because her limbs turn to jello when he holds her close like that.

She leaned her head back onto his chest so he could whisper into her ear, “I’m sorry, please forgive me.”

“That was not amusing, Jim. I was trying to have a moment, and you just had to ruin it by keeping your back straight while I tried to pull your head down for a kiss! Why’d you have to be so freakishly tall anyways?”

“Ok. One: you know I can’t resist your kisses for too long. And two: you know you find my ‘freakishly tall’ height incredibly sexy.”

She rolled her eyes at him, so he began to plant the softest of kisses on her collarbone.

“Please, please, please forgive me.” He whispered in between kisses as his mouth inches up her neck, over her jawbone, and closer, closer to her lips. She groaned in defeat as she turned around into his embrace and kissed him full on the lips. They parted only because they’re gasping for air, and really, what fun is it to kiss someone who’s passed out?

His arms still around her and her hands still tangled in his messy hair, she sighed. “Ok, fine. I forgive you. But just to make sure…” She turned around abruptly and returned to her shoe-sorting.

It’s his turn to roll his eyes and he groans, “Pam, really, do you have to do this right now?”

They’re both still kneeling, so she had no trouble turning to whisper in his ear, “Help me and we’ll pick up where we left off.”

She laughed as he quickly pushed her aside and dove into her closet.

Disclaimer: I now own a few episodes from iTunes as well as the Season Two DVD. Unfortunately, that is all I own.

She never sang in the shower.

It’s not that she didn’t like to. She used to sing in the shower all the time, back when she was a kid and in high school. She loved how the bathroom tiles echoed her voice and made her sound like she was really good, might even have a future as a recording artist.

Because of course she wasn’t that great of a singer. That’s what she told herself anyways. And then, when she moved in with Roy, he appeared to share her opinion.

“Pammy, do you have to sing every morning? I’m trying to get some sleep!” he used to yell from their bed. “Let the people on the radio do the singing.”

She hasn’t sung in the shower since then… until this morning.

She woke up when he turned on the shower. Already missing his presence next to her she rolled over to his side of the bed, still warm from where he slept. Just a few more minutes.

“I can be your hero, baby. I can kiss away the pain..”

She buried her face into his pillow to muffle her laughter. Of course Jim would be a shower singer. And of course he’d sing cheesy love songs. It just seemed to suit him. If anyone else heard him, they wouldn’t think much of his voice, but to Pam, he was good enough to get a record deal. So long as you ignored his voice cracking every time he went for the high notes.

She pulled herself out of bed, already naked, and walked into the bathroom. He stopped singing out of surprise when she pulled back the curtain to join him, so she finished the rest of the chorus for him.

“You can take my breath away…”

They sang three more songs together (as well as engaging in other activities)and just barely made it in time to work.

Disclaimer: I own Season 1 and 2.. but only the DVDs. Drat. 

Pam really didn't like to cook. She knew some people found it relaxing, even considering it a hobby. She was definitely not one of those people. But Roy had claimed he barely knew how to work a microwave, so it was either she cook, or order take out. But since take out every night got really expensive, she resigned herself to the fact that she had to make the meals. When she moved into her new apartment by herself, she usually ended up just eating cereal or toast, since she didn't see much point in cooking dinner for one. But since she and Jim moved in together last week, she knew she'd have to dust off her skillet and start cooking again. She was pondering all this when Jim walked up to lean over her desk.

"Earth to Beesley: I don't think staring at your screen will make the little cards move around. Last time I checked, we still needed to use a mouse to play solitare."

Pam snapped out of her reverie to smile up at him. "Hey, maybe you're not the only one with telekinetic powers. I could be gifted , too."

Jim chuckled. "No, seriously, what's up? You had this really pensive look on your face."

"Oh, I was just trying to figure out what to make for dinner tonight. You know, since you made that wonderful chicken marsala last night. Now I have to try and top that. Can't have you beating me at cooking."

He straightened up at this. "First of all, don't bother trying to beat me, because I am the master chef. Second, don't worry about it, I'm cooking again tonight."

She looked up at him skeptically. "Really? But you've been cooking every night this week. Are you sure you don't mind?" Every night, she'd tried to put up an fight to take over dinner plans, but, truthfully, she could have fought harder.

"Pam, I really don't mind, I actually like to cook. Here's the deal: from now on, I'll do the cooking, so long as you promise to work on your art projects in the living room while I'm in the kitchen."

She gasped in feigned horror, "Are you actually banning me from our kitchen?"

He leaned back down again. She loved when he leaned on her desk. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. I need to concentrate to pull of those culinary masterpieces, and, let's face it, you're kind of a distraction. And you get to finish your projects without me trying to distract you. And after we eat, I get to have your undivided attention. So, win-win...win."

How can I not fall head over heels for this man? she wondered. "Fine. Deal."

Jim rapped his fingers on his desk, "Great, now get back to practicing your telekenesis. You've still got a ways to go before catching up with me."

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even Jim. Boo!

She never liked coffee. Hated the bitter taste of it. And soda was just too sweet. No, tea was definitely the best way to get her caffeine fix. And not the iced stuff, either. She loved how tea was warm and comforting while she drank it, giving her a sense of calm, preventing her from smacking some sense into Michael after saying something stupid (yet again). But it also gave her that little jolt to keep her awake throughout the day. After all, she was a receptionist. At a paper company.

Jim knew about her love for tea; that’s why he knew she would love the teapot he gave her that Christmas three years ago. And now he also knew her favorite brand: Celestial Seasonings Chocolate Caramel Enchantment Chai. So, being the sensitive and thoughtful husband that he was, he always remembered to restock their tea supply, even without her reminding him.

Which is why he was now looking at her with a confused expression on his face in the middle of the supermarket.

“Seriously, you don’t want to get some tea? I thought you said you only had 2 packets left?”

Pam nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I do, but I think I need to switch to another beverage for now. Or at least try some decaffeinated tea.”

He smirked down at her. “So now it’s your turn to evolve? I thought you hated decaffeinated tea. ‘Almost as bad as fake meat,’ you told me.”

She made a face. “Yeah, it is pretty gross stuff.”

“Decaf tea or fake meat?”

“Both.”

He chuckled. “So why the sudden change?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, during my yearly checkup today, my doctor told me that I should avoid caffeine.”

Concern filled his eyes, but she continued before he could say anything. “Apparently caffeine is a suspected teratogen, which is bad for the baby.”

She tried unsuccessfully to hold back a giggle at the sight of his jaw dropping almost to the floor.

“Are you serious?” He whispered the question, as though saying it out loud might wake him up and he’d find out it was all just a dream.

Her smile seemed to grow impossibly wider as she gave the tiniest of nods. “I’m just about 6 weeks along. Dr. Young said it will still be another few weeks before we can tell if it’s a boy or girl.”

Jim stepped closer to her, still speechless, and his arms went around her waist as his expression melted from one of shock to awe.

She could feel the tears of happiness building in her eyes as she kept smiling up at him. “I was going to tell you over dinner tonight, but I guess I can’t keep a secret for that long.”

He just gazed at her like she was the world to him. Because, really, she was.

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”

He leaned forward, his lips mere centimeters from hers. “I’m so in love with you,” he breathed just before their lips met.

Pam was the first to pull back for air, grinning at the still-dazed look on Jim’s face. “So I was thinking of names and I really like the sound of Kurt Halpert... or maybe Gary…”