Jim came in on Monday morning feeling a bit hungover despite the fact he didn't drink anything over the weekend. Frankly, he didn't do anything that weekend. He tried, but every time he brought up another idea for a date with Karen, she would shoot it down. So instead, he spent the entire weekend sitting on his couch, trying to figure out what he had done to piss her off.

He hung his coat on the rack near Pam, giving her a simple "Morning."

"Hey," she said. "Um...Jan wants you in the conference room."

Jim rolled his eyes. "What did Michael do this time?" he asked, dropping his bag on his chair.

"I don't know, but it has something to do with Karen," she responded with a bit of concern.

He stopped himself from asking Pam what Karen had to do with any of it. His head started to hurt, trying to run through all the possible things Michael could have said to offend her as he walked over to the conference room.

He opened the door and heard Jan's typical work voice in his ears. "Jim, you're just in time. Have a seat." He took the open chair next to Michael, sitting across from Jan and Karen.

He looked over at Karen, but couldn't read the expression on her face. He knew it was something bad by the way she was avoiding his eyes. His palms started to sweat, thinking he was about to be put in a position where he may have to choose between supporting Michael and supporting his secret girlfriend. Or Corporate may have found out about the relationship and he was being called in to explain why they didn't register it with Toby.

Jan's shuffling of papers snapped him out of his thought process. "Michael, Jim, I talked to Karen last week and we have decided to offer her a promotion to the corporate office in New York."

Jim's head snapped to look back at Karen. She looked dejected, staring at the table, doing everything she could to avoid acknowledging he was there. What was going on? He started looking around, hoping someone would give him something to work with. It was a joke, right? This was some sort of management training test or something, wasn't it? But all Jan did was shuffle more paperwork around. Michael was trying to look serious and professional, which was so weird. Why wasn't he taking this personally that another Stamford employee was leaving his office? Then Jim saw Michael's eyes start to light up. It was the same look Michael would get right before a sugar high kicked in. Why was he getting excited about Karen leaving?

"Jim," Jan said, pushing her paperwork his way. "Here are the transfer papers you need to sign as assistant regional manager. Also, Karen, you need to sign them as well on the 'Transferred Employee' line above Jim's signature." He knew exactly where all the lines were on these papers. And just like the last time he signed them, his head was spinning. It was like his life was on replay, only he was on the other side of the table and a different woman was involved.

"Karen, Michael and I will be in his office working on the details of your transfer so you can bring everything there when you're done," Jan politely explained.

As they left, Jim thought he saw Michael give him a little wink. That was the last thing he needed.

Jim looked down at the papers as he heard the door shut. He couldn't bring himself to look up at Karen. "You've been avoiding me because you planned to leave."

"Yeah," Karen replied. "I just need to go."

The words on the transfer papers started to blur together as he stared at them. "I don't know if I said something or did something to give you the impression I wanted to you leave, but I'm sorry if I did. I just..." He looked up at her. "Karen, I never wanted you to leave."

"Jim, don't make this harder for me."

"Why does it have to be hard? I just don't have to sign these papers and you don't go and it's fine."

"I need to leave, Jim," she said, finally looking up at him. He could see pain in her eyes and he felt himself go cold.

He started running through everything in the past two weeks -- DVD Night at her place a few weeks ago, dinners, drinks at Poor Richard's. He couldn't come up with anything he may have said to make her feel like she needed to go. "Why? When did this all start?"

"It was after Michael said something to me last week."

"Michael?!" Jim spat out. "Seriously? I mean, he's a decent guy at times, but you should know by now that Michael is alot of talk."

Karen took a deep breath. "He said you transferred to Stamford because you were in love with Pam."

He said what? Jim's mind was trying to figure out why Michael would tell her that. How did that come up in conversation? Why did Michael even say anything? And what did any of this have to do with Karen now? It was last year! He never intended to come back to Scranton and he surely didn't come back because of Pam.

"Karen, that's all over. It's in the past. I'm with you now and...Look, you don't need to leave just because of that. My crush on Pam...it was just a harmless crush, Karen. I'm over it now."

"Are you?" Karen snapped back. "Think about what you did this week at work. All those times you randomly got up from your desk to talk to her. Think about the way your face would brighten up when she walked into the break room and how it fell when she left. And I have no idea why, but whenever Roy from the warehouse comes up to talk to her, you look like you're threatened or something. Like he's hitting on your girlfriend. And those were only the things I noticed this week after Michael said something to me!" She took a deep breath and stared at him. "You need to ask yourself why you acted like that, Jim."

Karen grabbed the papers from in front of him and started signing them, pressing hard on the paper. "You're not over her, Jim, and I can't be in this office with you anymore."

She pushed the papers back to him with enough force that they slid past Jim's hand and off the table. By the time he had picked them up, she was already gone. He grabbed the pen that had been sitting in front of her and put his signature on the "Assistant Regional Manager" line.

* * *

Michael was sitting at his desk looking giddy when Jim walked in with the completed paperwork and closed the door.

"I think your final approval is needed somewhere in this," was all Jim could think of saying.

"It is, my friend!" Michael responded excitedly. "And then I'll send it on to corporate and they should have it just in time for Karen's move out there next week. By the way," Michael said slyly, "I'm getting her out of her as soon as possible for your own sake. I think you noticed all that flirting she was doing with you. Probably made you really pissed off to know that Pam saw another woman acting like that with you."

"Michael!" Jim blurted out, his face getting red with anger. "What are you talking about? I have no idea what you said to Karen, but my relationship with her was none of your business! Why did you even tell her about my crush on Pam?! It's over already! I've moved on!" Jim regretted everything he said after it came out of his mouth and he sank into one of the grey chairs. He knew Michael wasn't trying to be malicious or anything, but he totally messed up this all up and Jim was going to be stuck cleaning it all up.

Jim looked back at Michael, expecting him to look shocked at the outburst. Instead, he found Michael giving him a look of concern. "Jim," he said sincerely. "If I'm wrong, I'm wrong. But I see the way you still look at Pam, the way you still act around her. You're still in love in Pam. Now I forgive you for leaving for Stamford..."

"Gee, thanks," Jim whispered sarcastically.

"Jim, you left for Stamford to get away from your feelings for Pam, right?" Michael asked, his concern still evident in his voice. "You need to accept the fact that just because you left doesn't mean those feelings went away. You're still in love with Pam, Jim, and deep in your heart, you know that."

Jim stared at Michael in disbelief. How could a guy who could be so crass sometimes still be sincere when Jim needed it the most? Too bad Michael was wrong about this one, Jim thought. Then he started thinking about Pam, about that warm hug from her when he first came back, about how hard it was to tell her he was seeing someone else. About the night he kissed her and she kissed him back. Michael wasn't right, was he?

Michael put Karen's transfer papers in a manila envelope and sealed it shut. "Can you give this to Pam? Let her know it needs to be Fed-Exed to corporate today."

Jim grabbed the envelope and walked out the door. He dropped it on Pam's desk, giving her the instructions as he walked over to the rack to get his coat. He thought the cool air outside would clear his head a bit.

He came back after a three-hour walk, but only because he couldn't stand the cold anymore.

Since Karen's move to New York, Jim would hang his coat up, say a curt "Morning" to Pam, and bury himself in sales calls. Pam was getting worried, but she didn't want to say anything to him. There were a few times when she had to keep herself from blurting out "Are you still in love with me?" but then she would calm herself down because, frankly, she didn't know how he would react to her question. She knew the answer she wanted to hear, but she just hadn't really prepared herself for what would happen if he gave her another one.

And really, he didn't know the answer either. Ever since Karen left, he felt like he was living in a haze. If anything, Karen made him realize that he still wasn't over Pam. For all of Michael's quirks, being able to figure out someone's emotions was one of his greatest qualities. It was probably why Michael was such a great sales man. It's probably why things were so hard for Jim now.

The idea that Michael was right, that he really still loved Pam -- it just hurt too much. He had been so defeated the night they kissed that the idea of going through that again was making him physically ill. He had a bottle of Pepto Bismol next to his bathroom sink that he would have to take a swig from every morning before heading to work. Once he got there, he had to drink three cups of coffee before he was finally awake. He felt so tired that he wished he could just crawl under his desk with a pillow every afternoon, and every night, no matter how tired he was, he would lie awake for hours, his mind racing. All he could think about was Pam. She wasn't with Roy anymore, he wasn't with Karen. They were free to be together, no strings attached, but he still couldn't figure out if that's what she wanted.

He was lying in bed on a Thursday morning, staring at the clock again as the sky started to get lighter outside. He hadn't slept at all so he called the office, hearing Pam's familiar recorded greeting on the other end.

*****

"Thursday, 5:48 a.m.," Pam heard the voice mail announce. 5:48? She would have to fix the time stamp on the voice mail system. No one would be calling that early.

"Pam, it's Jim. It's about 6 a.m. and I'm not feeling well so I'm taking a sick day. Can you let Michael know? Thanks."

Pam's heart sank. Jim sounded so horrible and she once again tried to convince herself if wasn't because of her. She was failing miserably.

*****

Jim didn't show up on Friday either. He finally got some sleep, waking up sometime in the afternoon to walk to the kitchen and get a beer. That turned into five and he fell asleep on the couch. Waking up on Saturday morning, he realized he had been wearing the same sweatpants since he went to bed Wednesday night. He wasn't sure about that though so he took a quick shower, changed into some clean sweatpants, and put on a shirt.

He planned on spending Saturday night the same way he had spent Friday, but only after ordering some food. There was nothing in his kitchen and he didn't feel like getting in his car to go anywhere. He was sitting on his couch sorting through take-out menus when he heard a knock on his door. Dragging himself up, he slowly walked down the hall, hoping it wasn't someone he knew that would want to come in.

It was Pam.

"Hi," she said, taking in his disheveled appearance. She looked a bit worried and he wouldn't blame her. He probably looked like crap.

"Hey," he said.

"Um...are you busy?"

Let's see...he hadn't left the house in two days already and wasn't planning on ending that streak until at least Monday. "Nope."

"I brought Cugino's pizza. Thought you might be hungry. Green peppers are still your favorite, right?"

He gave her a half-hearted smile and moved out of the doorway, ushering her in without a word. He followed her down the hall and watched as she tried to move all the crap he had left on his coffee table so she could set the pizza down. "Here, let me help with my mess."

She smiled and put the pizza down, opening the box as he walked back from the kitchen with some paper plates. They each grabbed a slice and sat down at opposite ends of the couch.

"This is cold," Jim said after taking a bite.

"Probably because I bought it an hour ago."

"Why did you wait an hour before bringing it over?" he asked, his mouth half-full with food.

Pam looked sheepishly down at her plate. "I um...I was driving around trying to decide if I should come over or not," she said before taking a bite.

Jim stared at her and could only answer with an "Oh," before getting back to his slice. They each ate another one in silence before Pam said something.

"You're looking a little scruffy."

"Haven't shaved in a few days."

She chuckled. "Well, obviously. Did you at least take a shower or something?" He nodded an affirmative. "Well, it looks good on you. A little too George Michael maybe, but good."

They both laughed a bit before the apartment went silent again.

"Um...so do you want to tell me why you were driving around for an hour before actually knocking on my door?" Jim was trying to be nice, but got worried that it might have sounded a little harsh.

Pam put her plate on the coffee table and looked up at the ceiling. "Where do I begin?" she whispered, before turning to look at Jim. "You know how a few weeks ago you wanted to pull a prank on Dwight and I balked?"

Jim gave her a bit of a surprised look. "You want to start with Dwight?" he said sarcastically.

"Yeah. Weird, I know. Um...so I balked at pulling a prank on Dwight because..." She started to get nervous knowing exactly where she was going with this. "Dwight caught me crying in the hallway and was nice to me. Like really nice. He even gave me a handkerchief and put his arm around me."

Jim hoped this story was going somewhere because it was weird so far. "Ok," he said. "Why...why were you crying?"

Pam took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "You know the day we did inventory? You were fighting with Karen about moving to an apartment close to here and I told you to give Karen a break. Remember that?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"And you listened to me."

"Well, it was good advice," he said, the side of his mouth curling up in a questioning smile.

"Yeah, I guess." She looked away from him again. "How do I put this? Um...the idea that you took my advice and took another step in your relationship with Karen...it felt like you were taking a step away from me and...it um..."

Jim was hanging on her every word now. "It what, Pam?"

She looked at him, looked at his eyes staring back at her. "It broke my heart."

The apartment went silent again. The only sound they could hear was each other breathing -- loud like the wind had been knocked out of both of them and they were just trying to catch their breaths.

"And...yeah," Pam said, breaking the silence. "I just...I realized that I was trying to give you relationship advice as your friend and I don't know. When you took my advice, it really hurt."

Jim tried to protest, tried to say he never meant to hurt her, but Pam stopped him before he could get a word out. "Just...it just made me think of all those times you did that for me when I was with Roy, and I..." She swallowed, trying to hold back the lump in her throat. "I'm sorry because it made me realize that you probably felt that way every time I talked to you about my problems. The fact that I caused you to be in pain like that over and over again...I don't think I can ever tell you enough how sorry I am about it."

Pam put her head down, feeling a single tear roll down her face that she quickly wiped away. Jim moved closer to her on the couch, putting his hand over hers. She looked up at him, a bit of her tear still clinging to her eyelashes.

"Pam," he said in almost a pleading tone. His face looked like it did that night in the parking lot when he told her he loved her.

She pulled her hand out from under his to wipe her eye again, then took a deep breath, hoping it would give her a little more courage to say what she needed to.

"Um...when Karen left, she hinted that Michael had said something to her that made her decide to go. Do you know anything about that?"

Jim took his hand off of Pam's knee. "Yeah, she said something about that."

"The night of Karen's party? Well...I'm pretty sure Andy and Michael were in Michael's office drinking spiked punch."

Jim let out a little laugh. "That sounds like Andy."

"Yeah," Pam said, smiling in agreement. "So anyway, I drove Michael home that night and he said something to me about what he told Karen."

Jim's heart started beating faster. Drunk Michael was never a good thing. He was hoping Michael hadn't told Pam what he had said to Karen. He was hoping against hope that Michael had just said something of no consequence to Pam.

"Jim?" he heard Pam ask. He looked up at her again, but she was staring at her hands in her lap. "He said you were still in love with me."

Jim felt the whole world collapsing around him, the couch engulfing him and swallowing him whole. He had an ache in his chest like it was going to explode.

"Michael was right, wasn't he?" Pam asked him, a hitch in her voice. She looked over at Jim and could tell the color was draining from his face despite the stubble covering his cheeks. "Jim, I..." She couldn't get the words out so they sat there, in silence, each trying to articulate what they wanted to say and not being able to.

Pam was the first to speak again. "I lied to you that night in the parking lot, Jim. You didn't misinterpret our friendship. I mean, I can't even tell you how many times I just wanted to grab you by the collar and kiss you or how many times I wished I was going home to you instead. But I was engaged, you know? As much as I may have wanted to, I had this person that I was committed to. So I would brush off my feelings or try to push you away when you got too close."

"Like when I kissed you?" Jim asked, his voice hoarse.

Pam shook her head a little. "Well, I kissed you back and I just remember being in that moment and not wanting to be anywhere else than there with you." She looked over and smiled a little at him. "And then you left..."

Jim looked up. "You told me you were getting married."

"I know, I know," Pam said, regret in her voice. "It's just that after you left, I was so mad at you. You turned my world upside down, Jim, and no matter where I was or what I was doing, everything just seemed unbalanced all of a sudden."

"So what happened?" Jim asked.

"Well, I called off the wedding. You know that part. It's wasn't because of you or what you had said. It was more just this idea that you existed. That there was someone out there who would treat me better than Roy did. It didn't matter who, it just mattered that a person like that existed. And that was it. I couldn't do it."

She couldn't do it. Fine, whatever, but that was more than six months ago. "You never called to tell me, though," he said, a hint of bitterness entering his voice. "I heard about it when Phyllis added a PS to an email she sent me about one of my old clients. Do you have any idea how that hurt?"

Her answer came out in a choked whisper. "I thought when you left, I had lost you forever."

It sounded depressing, but it made Jim smile -- this was something he could fix. Whatever ache, whatever tension, whatever pain was left in Jim's body seemed to lift in that instant. He felt a warmth returning, starting from his chest and radiating out to every part of his body, making his throat tighten and his eyes sting. He put his arms around Pam, pulling her into him, and whispered in her ear, "Pam, you never lost me. No matter what, you could never loose me."

He felt her pull away slightly to free her arms before wrapping them around his waist, pulling herself closer to him, her head snuggled into the crook of his neck. He could feel her silent tears sinking through his shirt and was thankful he hadn't shaved in a few days so his scruff could catch the ones coming down his face before Pam would feel them on her shoulder.

It seemed like an eternity before she pulled away from him finally, sniffling a little before looking back at him and smiling. That smile killed him every time. "Ick! Jim, I'm sorry," she said rubbing his shoulder where her head had been. "Your shirt's all wet and I think I got some snot on it."

He laughed louder than he had in weeks. "It's ok, Pam. It's a shirt," he said, wiping away some wetness from her cheek. "I have a washing machine that I think will take care of this."

She looked at him and smiled. "I feel alot better now."

"About my washing machine?" he asked jokingly.

"About everything."

"Me, too."

Her smile faded again. "You still haven't answered my question."

"What question was that?"

"Are you still in love with me?"

Of all the things to ask, this had gone from being the hardest question to answer to the easiest. "Yeah, I'm still in love with you. I always will be." He pulled her close to him, pressing his lips against her. He could taste her sweet vanilla lip gloss -- the same one she wore that night he kissed her in their office.

But this kiss was so much better. Her lips were warm and inviting. There was no apprehension between them, no pain. It was just...them.

She pulled away slowly, keeping her hand on his chest. "Jim, this is all...Well, this is alot for one night."

Jim gave her that little smile that she loved. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"I want to make sure we do this the right way, you know? No more things unsaid, no more games, no more complications. I just want it to work this time."

"Me, too."

Pam put her hand on his knee. "Ok, please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm going to go now."

"Ok?" he said. "Um...was my kissing that bad?"

He always knew how to make her laugh. "No. No, it was not. But I'm just going to go home and sort out all the stuff going on in my head. And you know, with the whole Karen whatever, maybe you need to do the same thing."

"Oh, I've figured out the Karen thing already," Jim said matter-of-factly. "She was just a rebound."

"Just a rebound?" Pam responded in a teasing voice. "Wow. That's deep, Halpert. So why all the moping the past few weeks?"

"Why?" he asked her. She raised her eyebrows, urging him on. "I can't believe I'm admitting this," he said, taking a deep breath. "Michael was right."

"Yes, you should be embarrassed to admit that, Halpert," Pam said giggling.

"I know! See? Anyway, I've spent the past few weeks mad about it because, well, first off, Michael was right. And second...the thought of putting myself on the line again like I did last year was making me feel ill."

"Do you feel better now?"

He looked up at her. "Best I've felt in weeks."

He stood up from the couch, taking her hands to pull her up next to him. "So listen, you go home like you want to, and let's have lunch tomorrow. No pressure, no hang ups, no serious crap. Just two friends eating lunch together. How's that sound?"

"That sounds awesome as long as we pick somewhere with grilled cheese."

"I can do that."

He smiled, took her hand, and walked her down the hallway back to the door.

"Thanks for listening to me ramble on," she said before leaning over and kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Thanks for talking," he answered, giving her one of those loopy smiles that always melted her heart.

When she left, Jim closed the door behind her and put his forehead against the cold wood for a few seconds. Then he backed away to go wrap up the leftover pizza, running a hand along the wall in case he needed to lean against it to keep himself from getting dizzy.

He was putting the pizza in the fridge when he heard a knock at his front door. The second time tonight and probably the same person. He took a quick look around, trying to see if Pam had left something behind that she was coming back for. He went to unlock the door again, empty-handed. Pam was indeed standing there, but she didn't look like the same Pam that had just left.

"Hey, did you forget something?"

"Yeah," Pam said in a breathless whisper. In one quick fluid motion, she had her arms around his neck, mashing her lips against it. It was not the sweet, soft kiss she gave him before. Instead, it was as if she was trying to unleash every ounce of passion she had in that one moment.

Jim was more than willing to let her try.

He grabbed Pam around the waist and picked her up, pulling her back inside without taking his lips off hers. He pushed her back against the door, releasing a soft moan from her in his mouth. He pushed harder, closing the space between them, pressing himself against her warm body.

Pam pulled away slightly, resting her forehead on his, her breath hard and hot on his lips. "I'm sorry. I said I was leaving and I put my key in the car door, and I couldn't turn it." She looked in his eyes and could see the specks of green and brown in them. "Don't make me go home tonight," she pleaded.

"I won't."

"I know there's alot we need to work out, but please don't make me go home tonight."

"It's ok, I won't."

Jim woke up feeling out of place. He was awake enough to know he was lying on his couch...but Pam was there. He ran his fingers through her mousy brown hair as she slept on top of him, her head snuggled into his chest.

He looked at the clock on his cable box -- 1:27. He took in a deep breath as Pam stirred a bit in her sleep and put her hand on his hip. It was so amazing to see her standing on his doorstep earlier in the night, begging him to come back in. Despite the urgency in her plea, though, he never got past second base. It didn't matter to him considering it was second base with Pam. It just felt weird and not at the same time.

Jim's mind flashed to Cindy Hewson, his first girlfriend in college. On their second date, he invited her back to his dorm room -- so suave, he thought, quietly smiling at himself. But having Cindy stay in his room for the first time that night was so new, so illicit. He didn't live with his parents and could have a girl spend the night in his room. What a revelation! And here was Pam, the girl who was always a step away, always just out of his grasp, and she was here. In his house. Sleeping on him on his couch.

And yet, it was Pam. For as much as he never expected to be spending his night like this, for as shocking as it was, it just seemed so natural. She was his Pam and he knew it was going to somehow end up this way. This was the woman he always loved, the woman he someday expected to marry.

The woman who was a pain in his neck.

Jim tried shifting his body a bit, but it didn't help. He silently cursed at himself for buying the damn thing without lying down on it first. He was over six feet tall, he knew better than to buy a couch without the Midday Nap Test, but he needed something cheap when he moved back to town and bought it on impulse.

With a bit of strategic maneuvering -- an arm here, a slip of his leg there -- he was able to extricate himself from Pam and leave her on the couch without waking her. He knelled down next to her, brushing some hair out of her face. He couldn't remember the last time she looked so at peace and he hoped he looked the same after their talk that night.

His neck was feeling much better, but he realized he had another problem -- what to do with a still-sleeping Pam. He debated whether to leave her there to sleep or move her somewhere else before finally muttering "Screw it."

He put one arm behind her neck and the other under her legs and scooped her into his arms. She was definitely much lighter than he expected as he carried her down the hall to his bedroom. He laid her down on his side of the bed since it was closer to the bathroom in case she woke up in the middle of the night. He took off her shoes and socks and contemplated taking off her jeans before stopping himself. He thought they looked uncomfortable to sleep in, but he was worried sleeping next to her in the same bed without her conscious consent was already pushing it a bit.

Jim slid in next to her on the other side, making sure he didn't take any covers from her. As he let his head sink into his pillow, he looked over at Pam lying quietly next to him. She was the last thing he saw that night and despite the fact that he was sharing his bed with someone else, he slept better than he had in a year.

x x x

The sun was filtering in through Jim's crappy bedroom blinds that were installed by the landlord. He once again made a mental note to replace them with something better.

He rolled over to realize Pam wasn't in bed with him anymore. Shit. His mind started reeling. What happened last night? They made out like two teenagers in a parked car, they fell asleep on the couch, and then he carried her in here. He had debated with himself last night about whether that was a good idea. Guess not, he thought, as he tried to roll over and ignore the fact that things were all messed up again. Maybe he could dream this whole thing away.

Then he heard the microwave beep in the kitchen and someone opening its door.

Jim quickly threw on a pair of jeans from the floor before heading out of his bedroom. He nearly tripped on Pam's shoes on his way out and wondered why he left them in the middle of the room last night.

Pam was sitting at his kitchen table with her back to him with his Sunday Times scattered across the table. When he moved back to Scranton, he got a subscription to make him believe he was growing up, but this was probably the first time the Times was actually being read in his apartment.

"Anything interesting?" Jim asked, startling Pam a bit.

"Well, first of all, you have tea, but no sugar."

Jim smiled as he opened the fridge. "Who needs that when you have orange juice?" he said, grabbing the carton. "Want some?"

Pam smiled. "I'll stick with my unsweetened tea."

Jim walked over to the table and slid himself into the seat across from Pam, taking a swig of juice straight from the carton in the process. He got a look a scorn from Pam in return.

"What if I wanted to drink that orange juice after all?"

Jim grinned. "I would have put yours in a glass."

"Oh thanks," Pam told him sarcastically before looking down at the paper again.

"What are you reading?"

"The Vows section," Pam explained, receiving a look of surprise from Jim. "I always like to read about these pretentious people. Like do you really deserve to be in the Vows section because some random ancestor was on the Mayflower? Oh, but there are plenty of Cornell grads so Andy would be perfect for this."

"Yes, but he would have to find a girl and brain wash her into marrying him." He smiled over at Pam and as she smiled back, Jim thought he could get used to spending his Sunday mornings like this.

Pam went back to reading as Jim dug through the sections strewn on the table while taking another swig of juice from the container.

"Hey, I forgot to tell you," Pam said. "The Arts section had a preview story about a William Blake exhibit at the Met. It sounded pretty cool. Would you be interested in heading to the city one weekend to see it?"

Jim looked up and smiled. "Yeah, that would be fun." He loved the fact that Pam's face lit up from his response. "You know, we should make a whole weekend of it. Drive up on a Saturday morning, stay at a hotel that night, maybe grab dinner, and then head back the next day."

"I would really like that," Pam said, reaching out to grab Jim's hand from across the table.

She tucked her head back into the paper, looking a little embarrassed about what she had just done, but she didn't let go. Jim decided he would do the same.