I do not own The Office: U.S. Version.

I've watched it enough though.

Free For Dinner

It took her forever to decide what to wear.

Blue. No. Green. No-

And what to do with her hair.

Up? No. Down? Well . . .

She had half a mind to dig out the dress she had worn to Casino Night and just show up on his doorstep.

Tell me again, Jim. Tell me. I'll answer right this time, I promise.

The restaurant was nice.

Homey. Familiar but new.

He had picked her up at her apartment.

Right on time, the knock on the door sending her stomach into an overexcitement of flutters.

Jim.

The knock had even sounded like him.

She had opened the door.

And there he was.

Jim Halpert.

Tall, lanky.

Handsome.

Smiling as their eyes met.

"Hey."

And she hadn't even tried to stop the welcome smile from spreading over her own face.

"Hey. You look nice."

"Thank you. You're not too bad yourself."

They had grinned at each other for a long moment before Jim took a deep breath and spoke again.

"Ready to go?"

She'd stopped.

"Nope."

And bravely reached up to muss his side-parted, Karen-neatened brown hair back to casual Jimdom.

Her face inches from his, feeling his breath not on her face because he had caught it when she had reached up to touch him.

She blushed then spoke cheekily as she turned.

"There that's better. The next time you change your look, Halpert, do it because you want to. Not because somebody tells you to."

She could feel his pleased grin at her back as they'd advanced down the stairs.

"Okay. Will do."

She liked the restaurant.

Relaxing and comfortable.

The food was good.

The conversation with Jim was even better.

". . . going be crazy, but then, I swear, Pam, it got even better . . ."

It was real and natural and familar.

Familiar because it them.

Them as they had always been.

Except she wasn't looking at him through an 'I'm unavailable' lens and he wasn't pretending he wasn't in love with her.

They just were.

She suddenly reached out a hand to touch his across the small table.

Cutting off his easy flow of words as he took it, squeezing her fingers lightly.

He hadn't touched her much so far.

A light hand on the small of her back as he held open the door for her to walk through.

Subtle leaning in as they chatted and laughed while traversing the parking lot to the restaurant.

He really is treating it like a first date, she mused pleasantly.

And it was.

Except so much better.

"I'm glad you invited me out to dinner," she said.

He smiled.

"Well, I'm glad you accepted."

There was a pause.

They hadn't talked about it yet.

She had been taking everything in stride, just enjoying this new development.

But she really wanted to know.

"So what happened?"

He swallowed, momentarily at a loss.

Then shrugged.

"Uh, well, I found your note. And the medal that I'd hid in the bottom of my desk drawer, so thank you for stealing that . . ."

She blushed but refused to drop her eyes.

". . . and Wallace was talking about the long haul and he asked me where I saw myself in ten years . . ."

He trailed off, dropping his own eyes down to the table where his fingers were aimlessly caressing and playing with hers.

Then he returned his gaze to her again, with an added bonus of a lopsided grin that had always warmed her and made her happy.

"And all I could think of was you."

Somewhere between the happiest she'd ever felt in her entire life and on the edge of bursting into tears, Pam couldn't bring herself to speak.

"That's all I've ever really wanted since the day I met you, Pam. Just to be with you."

Her vision was tunneled now. Jim filled it all.

Jim and his eyes.

Jim and his love for her.

Jim.

Who cleared his throat before continuing his story.

"So, uh, I just sat there with Wallace staring at me and I finally said, 'you know what, I just realized I'm not the person for this job. I'm sorry I wasted your time but I gotta go.' "

She gasped at him.

"What did he say?"

Jim the Shrugger shrugged again.

"Well, he, uh, looked surprised and just said, 'Is something wrong?' And I said, 'no, not at all". And the I shook his hand and left."

He looked only a little abashed at his own behavior.

"Wow. That's amazing," Pam replied, astonished.

Jim smiled.

"I just didn't want to waste any more time without you."

He paused before continuing. Taking a deep breath as if he wasn't sure how the next part between them was going to go.

"Then I texted Karen and told her that I had walked away from the job and I was coming back to Scranton and for her to stay in New York and have fun with her friends."

Pam felt herself openly gaping.

"You didn't talk to her?!"

Jim shook his head.

"Not yet. I didn't want to get stuck in a fight with her instead of coming back for you."

She thought her eyes might fall out of her head.

"Wow. I - wow!"

Jim grinned, ducking his head in embarrassment.

"Yeah, I know, it's not great. I'll talk to her tomorrow."

The fact the he wasn't trying to deflect what he had done with joking told her he was taking it deadly serious.

Which was good, otherwise she would have had to leave the date.

"Yeah, I'd say that should be at the top of your priority list. I don't want to be the other woman."

Jim nodded.

"Yeah. Me neither."

"Do you, um, do you want to come in?"

The look in his eyes as he gazed down at her and she up at him told her he did.

And she wanted him to.

So much.

But then Jim Halpert hesitated and opened his mouth that she couldn't stop staring at.

"No, I think I, uh, need to get home and feed my goldfish."

She smiled back, blushing, relief and disappointment intermingling throughout her.

He didn't have a goldfish.

And he was too much of a gentleman for that careless statement to be a pointed euphemism.

Jim was simply a good guy.

A conscientious guy.

Still . . .

"You sure? I could, uh, make some coffee."

He ducked his head away, shy little smile still on his handsome face.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure."

Then he squeezed her hand before releasing hold and turning away.

"Call you tomorrow?"

She nodded eagerly.

"Alright then. 'Night, Beasley. Sweet dreams."

" 'Night. Drive safe."

"Okay. Will do."

Then she stood on the steps and watched him go.

He called an hour later as she was reading in bed.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"I really wanted to come in."

"I know. I really wanted you to."

He paused and she waited.

"I, uh, I didn't want to seem like I only asked you out to try and sleep with you."

She blushed and bit her lip and dove right in.

"Well, you should have. I'm really great."

His voice came back pleasantly surprised and amused.

"Really? Wow, that's, uh, that's great."

There was a weighted pause in which she could almost hear him processing this bold new Pam statement.

And his response was the most casual she knew he could muster.

"Are you really?"

Even over the phone she hid her face in her hand.

"Well, no, not really."

Cleared her throat.

And dove right in again.

"But I think with you I might be."

She could see him in her mind's eye. Openly grinning. Probably blushing.

Just like her.

"Oh. Okay. That's a good note, thanks for sharing that."

And they shared a laugh.

Then they talked for two hours.

I do not own The Office: U.S. Version.

I've watched it enough though.

Free For Dinner

Sandwiches and Clown Cars

"Jim Halpert, price check on fabric softener."

Most mornings she woke up thinking about him.

"Thank you, Delegate from Iceland."

Just as most nights she went to sleep thinking about him.

". . . spy on people and we may build a fort."

It was actually kind of nice. To be independent. On her own.

". . . hide and wait somewhere."

And very lonely.

"Dunder Mifflin, this is Jim."

But she had been making it work.

". . . like, second drink."

Because she needed to be independent.

". . . one kitchen . . ."

Without a man.

". . . bonus gifts."

For once.

". . . hole punch version of Jim."

Until the right man came along.

" 'I do not think that is funny.' "

Or back.

"Hi, I'm Jim. I'm new here."

Either way . . .

"Alright, then. It's a date."

. . . here he was.

I've been trying to get ahold of Karen all morning. She won't answer her phone or my texts.

Well, sort of.

I think she knows.

Kind of.

What should I do?

Right there.

Have lunch with me.

Close, anyway.

Where?

But not close enough.

Here.

"Wow, Beesley, you were right, you do only have one kitchen! I thought that was just an urban legend."

She was giving him the royal tour.

" . . . bathroom. But at least there's hot water."

"Yeah, I always appreciate functional plumbing too."

Which took about six seconds.

And remembered . . .

". . . not going to be awkward at all."

. . . taking the tour of his pre-Stanford apartment.

" . . . is prohibited . . ."

Enveloped by his presence, pleased to see stuff that . . .

"Oooh, yearbook!"

. . . personally belonged to him.

And now . . .

". . . daffodils in the winter."

"Always special."

. . . he was seeing hers.

Her bedroom did not have a home office in it, for example.

Just a dresser and a nightstand.

And her bed.

Bed.

Ahem, moving on.

Her kitchen was not full of beer for a party.

But there was . . .

". . . famous grilled cheese sandwich."

. . . the makings for some sandwiches.

She did not have a game system in the living room.

Only . . .

"Wow, Pam, these are good."

. . . her stool and easel set up.

She shrugged a little.

"They're just rough drafts. But I'm getting there."

Jim grinned.

"They're great. I'm just glad you decided to go ahead and take the art classes."

Other than her parents, Jim was the only one who had really encouraged her to follow her dreams.

Do anything just for herself.

She grinned.

"Me too. I love it."

I love you.

Jim turned to look out the window.

Squinted.

"Well, I can see why you're shelling out the big bucks for the rent. The view's amazing."

She rolled her eyes.

The parking lot. Complete with dingy dumpster.

"Yeah. The raccoons certainly add to the nightlife."

Jim grinned again.

"Actually, I do think it's great. You're on your own, making your own decisions. I'm really proud of you, Beesley."

And they shared a smile.

Then Pam swiped a hand across her face.

"So, lunch?"

"Yeah. Whaddya got?"

She put on her straightest face.

"Filet migion and lobster thermidor, naturally."

Jim gifted her with a lopsided grin.

"Ham and cheese sandwiches?"

"Exactly."

They worked easily together in her tiny kitchen.

Of course, it was only bread and deli meat and cheese.

And as they worked, they talked.

"So, I was thinking, for our big office announcement we have a parade?"

Jim nodded sagely, discarding the mustard-slathered knife in the sink.

"Maybe call the local news station?"

"Hire dancing clowns."

"Stage magicians."

"Jugglers."

"Lion tamers."

"Trapeze artists."

"Hang on, is our relationship turning into a literal circus?"

"Sounds like it. Which is great 'cause I've always wanted to feed a peanut to an elephant."

"You know, that's actually supposed to be bad for them?"

"Hey, don't stomp all over my dreams, Halpert."

They sat at her tiny kitchen table, grinning and eating sandwiches and sharing potato chips.

All was quiet for a few moments.

Then Pam spoke up.

"I actually don't want to tell anybody in the office yet. I mean, can you imagine Michael?"

"Or Dwight?"

"Or Meredith?"

"Or Angela?"

"Or Kevin?"

They both grimaced.

Kevin Malone would giggle himself silly.

The pointed looks. The pointed phrases.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think we can date in the office."

"Me neither."

They sat and chewed and thought.

"What are we going to do?"

"Run off to Niagra Falls and get married?"

"No, we'll save that for later."

"Good idea."

It was a good lunch.

I do not own The Office: U.S. Version.

I've watched it enough though.

Free For Dinner

The BandAid

"I moved here for you! I uprooted my entire life just to be with you!"

Jim's attempted response was muffled, overriden by the ire of the petite woman scorned.

"Yeah, but you also encouraged me to come here too! Knowing she would still be here! Or do you not remember that?!"

One would think the door, the wall, the glass windows would have blocked some of the shouting.

"So yeah, I moved here to this crummy little town to be with you! I followed you and you already knew you still had feelings for her, didn't you?!"

One would be wrong.

"Of course this is about her! What else could it be about?! Her and everything she said on Beach Day! God, I was such an idiot to try and make things work with you for so long!"

Jim seemed to have given up talking or defending himself in any way.

Just stood still with his head down. Taking the verbal beating he had earned. Even glancing at Karen from time to time.

Making eye contact.

Because it was polite and respectful.

"And I just because we're broken up, doesn't mean I'm going anywhere! I've worked really hard for my career and I'm a good saleswoman and I have just as much right to be here as you do!"

Jim had said he would handle it because it was his mess and not hers.

Which was true.

So she had agreed to stay out of it.

Still, it was difficult to rubberneck from all the way across the room from her desk at reception.

Move out of the way, Kevin!

And the other people in the office weren't helping.

You walk so slow!

Karen had stormed out in tears.

Pam thought.

She had gone out the back way.

And Pam, receiving a text from the also disappeared Jim, had subtly taken her fifteen minute break in the stairwell.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Well, that was awful."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I guess."

He paused, handsome face pained.

"I really didn't mean to use her or hurt her."

Pam waited. Let him talk.

"I actually did like her. Well enough anyway. She's smart and sweet and funny."

He shook his head.

"I tried."

Then he raised his head.

"She just wasn't you, Pam."

She smiled a little, holding his hand supportively.

"I shouldn't have let it go on as long as I did," he continued, reprimanding himself. "But you know me."

Pam nodded.

"Yeah, I do."

He drew a deep breath of air into his lungs, chest expanding a little against his shirt.

Pam watched, trying to stay focused on his emotional needs and keep her hands off him.

It wasn't easy.

He blew the air out of his nostrils in a long sigh of conclusion.

"Listen, Pam. I'm glad I did it and I don't have any misgivings about it. But I'm not sure right now just how good a company I'd be tonight."

Oh, that. Right. Well, that makes sense.

If it was her . . .

"That's okay. I understand."

Jim nodded in acceptance.

Pam thought. And thought.

And then smiled.

"Do you just want to hang out and watch a movie?"

Jim remained isolated for a moment then looked over at her with a smile.

"That sounds nice."

As Pam was nonchalantly perusing the vending machine, Kelly calmly exploded out of the annex.

"Oh my god, Karen was so upset! She was crying and her makeup was running and everything, she just looked awful!"

Then she paused to take a much needed breath of air before exploding into excited speech again.

Leaning forward conspiratorially.

"Oh my god, Pam, did you break them up?! Are you with Jim now? Did he cheat on Karen with you?!"

Wow. When you put it like that it sounds so bad.

Pam shrugged innocently.

"Um, no, I don't know why he decided to break up with her. Maybe he just-"

She didn't know exactly what she was going to say next but thankfully she was saved from finishing her sentence by . . .

"Ryan! Oh my god-"

Whew.

"Well, I'm out of here, Beesley. Goodnight."

The same moment they had shared countless times over the years.

Her still sitting at reception, Jim reaching for his coat on the coat tree.

Smiling casually, hefting his messenger bag over his shoulder, turning to go.

"Okay," she replied airily. "Bye."

And then he was gone.

Pam averted her eyes, absolutely not letting them linger on his departing backside.

Just in case someone was watc-

"Crazy day, huh?"

Phyllis' slightly magnified eyes were practically ashine with mild curiosity.

Pam gathered herself and shrugged.

"I guess."

The rotund, matronly woman on the other side of the partition smiled secretively.

"Got any plans tonight?"

Pam kept her gaze trained on her computer.

"Actually, I'm kinda tired. I think I'll just go home and relax."

Phyllis did not move.

Pam took a different tactic.

"Are you going out with Bob Vance?"

Success.

The toothy smile said it all.

"Oh yes. Cuchinno's."

Pam flitted an easy smile.

"Oh, that sounds nice! I hope you enjoy."

Phyllis finally got moving.

"Well . . . good night, Pam."

"Night."

" . . . six fingers on your right hand?"

"You always begin conversations this way?"

The couch was comfortable.

The movie was comfortable.

Jim was comfortable.

To lean against. Relax against.

She tilted her head to glance at him.

"Better?"

His arms briefly squeezed her in a reassuring embrace.

"Yeah. Getting there."

She squeezed him back.

"Good."

And then they went back to the movie.

"You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you."

"You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die."

I do not own The Office: U.S. Version.

I've watched it enough though.

Free For Dinner

Everybody's Business

So Karen was gone.

As in completely.

Not even a speck of dust remained on her desk.

Even though somehow not everyone had quite gotten the memo.

"Hey, where's Karen? I was going to ask her about Point Sales account."

Dead silence around the office.

Finally, Toby attempted to answer.

"She left and put in for a transfer two days ago, Michael. I emailed you about it."

Their fearless leader rolled his eyes.

"Well, obviously, I didn't get that email, loser. Everything from you goes to the junk folder marked "Toby, Whom I Hate With the Fire of a Thousand Suns and Should Die a Painful and Excruciating Death'."

Toby's normally downtrodden expression drooped even further.

"Michael-"

"So," Michael Scott, Esteemed Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin Paper Company continued abruptly, looking randomly around the room at anyone but his arch nemesis. "Karen's gone? When did this happen? Where was I, Pam?"

Oh, not me. Please not me.

"Why was I cut out of the loop?"

Pamela cleared her throat.

"You had, uh, gone to your condo after Jan called to asked you to come home and open your package for her."

Michael seemed temporaraily baffled.

"My package?"

Before the dirty little clouds on his mind cleared.

"Oh, yes, well, I was indisposed then and that's what she . . ."

Of course.

". . . said."

He returned to the present, huffing in derision and disappointment at the loss of a valued, hard-working employee.

"Well, that's a bummer. She was someone I enjoyed watching everyday. I guess I'll only watch her in my dreams now."

As that unsettling thought wandered through her brain, Pamela heard Michael continue, concern and pity colored all through his clueless tone.

"Jim, jeez, I can't imagine how you must feel. Did you have any idea she was going to do this?"

Jim seemed to keep his expression impassive.

"A little."

Michael nodded.

"Okay, well, alright then. Pam, I guess you're back to being number one."

Pam took the hit unawares and found herself confused.

"Number one what?"

But he was gone.

Well, that was fun.

She looked to Jim, whose mildly sardonic expression was just as she expected.

It's so nice to not have to stare at the back of his neck anymore.

"Wait! Did Karen run off to New York with Ryan?! Jim, did she dump you because you bombed the corporate interview?!"

And here we go again.

It had begun.

The looks.

The whispers.

Kevin's incessant giggling.

His pointed questions.

"How are you today, Pam?"

Her innocent answers.

"I'm fine, Kevin."

Followed up by his suggestive responses.

"Yeah, I bet you are."

Sigh.

"Hey, where's that albino Cambodian chick that was dating the tall guy?"

"You mean, Karen?"

"No, no, it stared with an 'Z', I think. Maybe a 'Q'."

"Are you feeling alright, Creed?"

"Yeah, sure, Susie, why?"

"N- . . . My name's P- . . . Never mind."

Okayyy.

"Way to go, Jim. Running off the one female who would give you the time of day."

"Thanks, Dwight."

"Did you at least harvest her eggs and freeze them for future generations to repopulate once the planet goes sterile?"

"Uh, no, I don't think so."

"Missed opportunity."

"Well, it is now, Dwight. Jeez."

One thing she liked about Jim was . . .

"Don't feel too bad, Tuna. Not a thing you could have done."

. . . his neverending well of aplomb.

"Well, thanks, An-"

He never seemed to lose his composure.

"The sexual tension between us was just too much for her to continue on here."

Even in the face of the great and grand delusions of . . .

"Between . . ."

. . . Andrew Baines . . .

"Between me and Karen, Tuna. Ahhh, she just couldn't let her feelings for me go."

. . . Bernard.

"Ah. Right."

Hearty clap on the shoulder.

"Don't beat yourself up too much about it though. Some of us just aren't meant for the grandeurs of passionate love."

Pam stifled a sudden onset of giggles as Jim seemed to refuse to look in her direction, keeping his mildly amused expression dutifully trained on the tweeded man in front of him.

"Right. Got it, Andy. Thanks."

"It's really for the best, I think."

"Why is that, Angela?"

"Really? Do I have to list the reasons why?"

Nope, not really.

But she had opened her mouth and spoken words.

So she supposed now she was stuck in it.

"She always wore her clothes too tight and revealing. So loud and brash. She flirted with Jim incessantly. We can't have more than one of you at a time, Pam. This is an office, not a love-in."

Wow.

Just another day in the office.

Well, maybe not just another day in the office.

"So Halpert's back on the market, huh?"

Pam found herself blinking owlishly at Meredith Palmer before managing to find sufficient words.

"Yeah, guess so."

Meredith seemed to mull this over.

"He must be grieving. They dated awhile."

Pam did not respond this, only finding herself suddenly feeling somewhat protective and even more pranky toward her new secret companion.

"Maybe I'll offer him a ride home. And we can get, you know, The Graduate going on. Jakie's on the bench this season anyway. He can get a ride home from the coach."

As repulsed as Pam was on a number of levels, she reached way down inside and found a wayward nod of encouragement for the licentiously smiling redhead.

"Yeah, you should totally do that."

Hee hee.

Yep, just another day in the office.

Only Stanley seemed unaffected by the change in staff.

"I really miss, Karen. Don't you, Stanley?"

"Mmm."

Phyllis appeared slightly misty-eyed.

"She was so sweet and friendly and full of energy."

"Mmm."

At the distantly dwindling memory of the silly little girl who had once accidentally insulted the pine perfume Bob Vance had give her.

"We got makeovers together once, you know. Really nailed the account."

"Mmm."

Stanley seemed somewhat less interested and sentimental.

And then there was Oscar.

"Hi, Pam."

"Good morning, Oscar."

The most normal person in the office.

"You know, I've been meaning to ask you about Karen . . ."

Who was still acting . . .

". . . do you think she left any staples in her desk?"

. . . completely normal.

"Um, I really don't know. I think it's completely cleaned out but you can check if you want to."

Almost too normal.

"Okay, thanks."

"Sure."

But Pam . . .

Whew.

. . . wasn't going to complain.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Just wow."

"I know."

"Can you believe-"

"No. Can you believe that-"

"No."

There was a pause before Jim spoke again, face relaxing into a lopsided grin.

"Actually, you know what, they're all acting exactly like I'd expect them to act."

Pam shook her head in agreement,

"Yeah. They are."

Another pause.

"Where do you want to go for dinner?"

"Another state."

"Ha, yeah."

Tuesday night was art class.

So unfortunately, no Jim.

What did you say to Meredith?!

Physically anyway.

Why? What's going on?

I do not own The Office: U.S. Version.

I've watched it enough though.

Free For Dinner

More Honest

"Sorry about Andy by the way."

It was a casual, lighthearted remark, an easy apology come out of nowhere.

And he was smirking.

That Jim smirk.

That adorable Jim smirk.

"Oh my god!"

She burst into giggles, leaning into him as they strolled along toward her apartment.

The flirting.

The Frolf.

The macanudos.

The Pig Latin.

"I just couldn't help myself," Jim admitted, chuckling along with her.

The banjo.

The falsetto Ainbow-onnection-Kay.

"No, I liked it. It . . . it made me feel like . . . it made me feel like you still cared."

Jim sighed.

Amusement falling.

Solemning.

"I always cared, Pam. I never stopped caring. I couldn't. I had tried. I just . . . I was just trying . . . I don't know . . ."

He seemed at a loss to adequately put into words his blindly determined friend-zoning of the woman he had only months earlier professed to deeply felt emotion.

"No, I know, I know."

Pam shook her head a little, feeling the cool evening breeze caress her face.

"I was too. Before you left. Before Casino Night."

Casino Night.

He had confessed his love for her, right out of the blue.

And she had freaked out and froze.

And shut him down.

Twice.

I was such an idiot.

And then he had disappeared.

Taken vacation days until his transfer and not stepped foot in the office after that night.

And she had just known she had made the biggest mistake she would ever make.

And that she couldn't marry Roy, couldn't go on with him anymore.

And definitely not for her entire life.

So she had started over.

It had hurt, killing the last six years of her life.

But she had cleaned herself out.

And tried to start over.

Personally.

"Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam."

Not professionally.

"Hi, um, I'd like to sign up for Art 101."

"Sure. Hang on, let me get some information from you."

Not yet anyway.

And now, almost a year later, here they were.

Finally.

Finally.

And they had arrived at her door.

"I'm sorry, Jim," she confessed suddenly. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't pay attention to everything that was right in front of me."

He gazed down at her, smile fading, eyes darkening as though something was going on deep within him.

And she knew she was going to say it first this time.

Because she needed to. Because she wanted to.

Because it was her turn.

To be more honest.

And she smiled.

It felt soft and warm and happy.

Just like the words coming out of her mouth.

"I love you."

She registered his mouth falling open slightly, his lips parting in an awed expression as she stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

Jim.

His lips were as warm as his heart.

Warm and welcoming and perfect.

A place she definitely wanted to stay.

Here.

With his arms around her.

Pressing her to him.

And his mouth right there.

Right there with hers.

"Come in?"

The invitation was obvious, would have had Michael Scott imploding on the spot with a gleeful torrents of that's what she saids.

And Jim grinned, glancing away.

Joking in deference.

"Um, I don't know. I'm not really a third date kinda gal, Beasley."

And Pam, feeling buoyant and bold, rose to the occasion.

"Oh, no, this isn't the third date," she stated confidently.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, it's not?"

She shook her head seriously.

"No, not at all. This is just the third date this weekend."

He grinned fondly.

"Okay. State your case."

She folded her arms across her chest.

"Okay. Let's see. There was the grilled cheese on the roof date."

Jim nodded in realization.

"Ahh, yes. Complete with music and dancing later."

"Swaying," she corrected, not for the first time.

Jim shrugged in agreement as she cruised right on.

"There was . . . the drunk Dundies." She squinched up her nose. "Not my finest hour maybe but everybody gets one."

Jim grinned.

"More music. And a show too."

She gestured in reasonableness.

"Yes, exactly."

She paused then burst out again. "Oh and the BBQ at your house."

He grinned.

"I did find you in my bedroom."

She nodded, full of validation.

"Complete with embarrassing yearbook photos. So, history."

Jim smirked and Pam mentally dared him to challenge her.

She continued.

"Ice skating! We went ice skating. You held my hand so I wouldn't fall on the ice. Personal contact."

"And the pharmacy the same day."

She grinned at him.

"Personal fabric softener details were revealed. You don't just tell that stuff to anyone."

He grinned, leaning to one side of the doorframe as if vastly enjoying himself.

"Go on, Beasley. You're on a roll."

She worked her mind.

And landed on it.

"The Jinx date!"

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, S&M exposure in the workplace. I got it."

She blushed and moved on.

"Oh, Teapot Christmas! That was better than flowers!"

Jim shrugged.

"Well, the golf pencil was was supposed to be a little Sopranos style warning, but . . ."

Pam cut in.

"The mini-golf experience that pencil originated from counts too!"

"I still maintain that duck had it out for me . . ."

Pam furrowed her brow momentarily.

"Not to mention the Drug Testing Confessional."

"I still can't believe you threw me under the bus like that!"

"I still can't believe you ended up driving the bus. That was amazing!"

He fleetingly looked proud of himself.

"And all the pranks we've played on Dwight together. And Andy."

Jim shrugged.

"Every couple needs a mutual hobby, Pam."

She beamed.

Couple.

Then she rallied.

"Oh! Plus all the lunch dates over the years!"

She haughtily put her hands on her hips in triumph.

"So we've been on alot of dates, Halpert. Good thing you're not in accounting. It would be a disaster for sure."

Jim grinned.

"Yep. You're right. The world has definitely been saved from my inability to correctly count unofficial dates."

She gazed up at him, head tilted to the right.

Now trading smarmy confidence for soft sweetness.

"Jim?"

"Hmmm?"

He seemed hypnotised by her upturned face.

"Will you please come in for a little while?"

He grinned.

"Well, since you put it like that."

Passed through the doorway.

And locked the door behind him.

Then he took her in his arms.

And stopped making jokes.

I do not own The Office: U.S. Version.

I have watched it enough though.

Jim Halpert Confesses to Murder

They're in the break room of the Dundee Mifflin Paper Company, Scranton branch.

And they, in a true moment of rarity, are alone at work.

And eating lunch.

Sandwiches, of course.

Ham and cheese for Jim. Turkey and cheese for Pam.

Single serving chip cellophane bags.

Sour cream and onion. Cool Ranch.

Popped soda cans.

Grape. Lemon.

All in the process of being slowly consumed and imbibed.

And Jim Halpert is suddenly moved . . .

"Um, okay, so I have to tell you something."

. . . to finally confess.

The woman across from him doesn't seem too alarmed.

No fear or worry cross her face.

Only a eyebrow, barely raised.

As she waits for his self-decided confession.

And crunches another chip.

"I kind of . . . hung Roy."

He hasn't been watching CSI.

Or Dexter for that matter.

Not really his thing.

So she feels relatively calm about the words that have just passed his lips.

Still . . .

"I'm gonna need a little more information than that, Halpert."

And Jim grins.

"Do you remember when you came to the party at my apartment?"

She nods.

"And my room?"

She grins, flashes those eyes.

Nods.

And Jim plunges onward.

"Above my desk there was a pegboard. With all kinds of stuff on it?"

Again, confirmation.

"Well . . ."

Deep breath.

"I kind of . . . made a mini Roy doll and tied a little rope . . ."

Cleared throat.

". . . and, uh, hung him from my pegboard."

Nervous scratch . . .

"Kind of a, uh, . . ."

. . . of the nose.

". . . you know . . . voodoo witch doctor type thing."

Now Pamela Morgan Beasley is aghast.

Bewildered.

Incredulous.

"You hung my fiancé?"

Jim nods.

Perhaps he shouldn't have told.

"Why?"

She doesn't sound mad.

Just . . . confused.

And Jim begins to quietly stammer.

"I was . . . frustrated. You were so sweet and kind and amazing and . . . had all this amazing life and potential inside you and he just never saw you or appreciated you for what you were. I just . . . I just . . . needed an outlet or something."

And then he runs out of words.

But Pam doesn't.

"So you strung him up on a pegboard in your bedroom?"

Jim tries to smile.

And doesn't quite make it.

"Yeah."

Tries again.

He's nothing if not persistent.

"I was just so focused on staying calm with you finally in my bedroom that I kind of forgot all about it until you left."

He chuckles self-depreciatively.

"Then when I went upstairs to go to bed later I saw it and almost had a full-blown panic attack."

And then he falls silent again.

For a moment.

She's quiet too.

And he just can't take it.

"Are you mad?"

And she doesn't answer that question but voices one of her own.

"What did you do with it? Do you still have it?"

He shakes his head, casting his gaze down at the soda can he's nervously playing with.

"What happened to it?"

And he swallows hard, tries not to get too serious.

"Oh, I, uh, . . ."

And then releases his final sin into the air.

". . . threw it out the window on the way to Stamford."

And she stares.

"You didn't."

He tries to huff 'yeah' but his voice fails him.

"Oh, Jim, Jim, . . ."

Her voice is worried, concerned.

Disappointed, even.

". . . why would you hang my fiancé and then dispose of his body along the highway where any state trooper could so easily find the evidence? That's so irresponsible and sloppy of you. You know Dwight monitors the police frequencies. We're going to have to run off to Canada now and I don't have any vacation days saved up."

He blinks, totally left-fielded by this surprise play.

And then Pam gifts him that cheeky grins he finds insanely, helplessly sexy.

I love this woman so much.

He's thinking of stealing the quickest of kisses-

"Beasley, have I told you today that-"

"Hey, guys, what're we talking about?"

"Oh. Hey, Kev. We were just, uh, talking about, uh-"

He really has no idea what he's going to say next, that mischievous sparkle in her beautiful eyes tend to have that effect on him.

When she swoops in again, casual and confident.

Even taking a swig of her soda as she does so.

"That party at Jim's house when he invited the whole office. Do you remember?"

Kevin nods his generous face in approval.

"Oh yeah. The karaoke that night was off the chain."

". . . making love with each other, ah ha . . ."

"Yes, Kev. Yes, it was."

I do not own The Office: U.S. Version.

I've watched it enough though.

Free For Dinner

"Where are we going?"

"I can't tell you. It's a surprise."

She felt him side-eyeing her.

"Oh god. Are we going to back to Shrute Farms again?"

She grinned.

Very good, Halpert. I see you're learning."

"Yes, actually."

Mild disbelief.

"Really?"

She patted his hand.

"Yep."

Dropped her voice seductively.

"And this time . . . we're reading The Goblet of Fire."

"Okay. Now I know you're lying."

She grinned.

"Do you now?"

And then Pamela Morgan Beesley confidently and decisively turned south.

And drove them right out of the state.

"No way, Pam. Really?"

"Yep."

It had taken almost five hours.

Several bathroom breaks.

And several futile attempts at . . .

"Florida?"

"Nope."

"Guam?"

"Nope."

"Bora Bora."

"Nope. You're terrible at this, Halpert."

. . . guessing their destination.

Much enjoyable small talk.

"Oh my gosh, can you believe Oscar-'"

"Uh-uh-uh, no work talk."

Soft, sappy lingering gazes.

"You're beautiful today, did I tell you that?"

"No. Thank you. But I'm still not telling."

Except for the determined, tight lipped, furrowed brow of concentration era whilst navigating the streets of . . .

"You okay, Beesley?"

"Yep. Now shhh and let me concentrate."

. . . unfamiliar Baltimore.

And continuing . . .

"Come on, Beesley, this is killing me. Where are we going?"

. . . straight on through.

"Nope."

For another . . .

"Confess, is it the moon? Are we going to the moon?"

"Yes. You got it. We're going to the moon in a Toyota Corolla."

. . . hour.

And now, finally, finally arriving . . .

"What-"

"Ta-da, our final destination. Well, not Final final but . . . we're here."

. . . where Pam had been secretly planning to whisk her boyfriend off to for the last week and a half.

His grin was astonished.

"No way, Pam. Really?"

"Yep. Unless you're not interested."

But Jim . . .

"No way, I'm not missing this!"

. . . was already out of the car.

He did remember her of course.

He didn't just run off like it was a hockey game or something.

Not that he ever would.

And Assertive Pam doesn't put up with that behavior.

Not anymore.

In fact, he held out his hand.

"How did you ever think of this, Beesley?"

And she took it.

"Oh, you know me, Halpert. I'm an adventurer."

And they walked in . . .

Well, getting there anyway.

. . . together.

Bethesda Crab House.

Home of the World's Best Blue Soft Shell Crab.

So some of the Yelp reviews said, anyway.

And she'd decided . . .

"Have you ever been here before?"

"Nope. You ready?"

"Yeah."

. . . to take a chance.

There was a wait. That was okay.

Any kind of wait was easier . . .

". . . cuddly, aren't you, Halpert?"

"Yep. Just that kind of guy."

. . . with Jim Halpert by her side.

And now they sat outside, on the big, red Bethesda barn-like out door dining porch.

A bench of their own.

Among the rows and rows of casually table-clothed benches.

Cloudy Maryland skies above them.

And . . .

"Oh my gosh, Pam . . ."

. . . a veritable cornucopia of freshly caught and cooked seafood fare . . .

". . . so good!"

. . . spread out before them.

Oysters on the half shell.

Corn on the cob.

Hushpuppies.

Coleslaw.

Tarter sauce.

Butter.

House-brewed beer.

And, of course, . . .

". . . some, here . . ."

. . . crab.

More specifically, New England blue soft shell crab.

Marinated in salted buttermilk.

Dredged in flour.

Fried in clarified butter.

And summarily devoured by one . . .

" . . . gooood . . ."

. . . Jim Halpert.

As he finally slowed, somewhere amid the growing piles of demolished seafood shards . . .

"Pam, thank you so much for this. New England soft shelled blue crab is my absolute favorite food."

I noticed.

And Pam . . .

"Well, I figured I had to make up for the Shrute Beet Farms Get Away."

. . . shrugged happily.

He reached over and kissed her, smiling lips pressing briefly to her forehead.

"No, you never have to make up for anything with me. Not ever."

Brief pause.

"But yeah, you have to make up for Mose on the outdoor toilet."

Pam surveyed their destruction.

"Well, up for dessert?"

Jim blinked heavily.

"I don't think I can."

"They've got key lime pie."

"Where's the waitress?"

The Oaks Bed and Breakfast provided them with their romantic getaway guest room.

Which Jim, stuffed full of crustacean and key lime, immediately took the opportunity . . .

". . . just for a minute, ooh, and I think all that food just settled . . ."

. . . to pass straight out in.

And Pam . . .

Well, I stuffed him full of crab.

. . . contented herself with snuggling . . .

I just had no idea he would eat so much.

. . . up next to him.

Until he woke a few hours later.

"Pam . . ."

Hungry once more.

"Jim . . ."

This time for her.

The Pike and Rose . . .

"-cool!"

. . . was pretty enjoyable . . .

"We should be getting on the road, don't you think?"

. . . as well.

"Naw. Scranton can wait. Come on."

I do not own The Office: U.S. Version.

I've watched it enough though.

Free For Dinner

The One That's Jim

"Hey, Mom!"

"Hey, Pammy!"

"Did you have a good drive in?"

"Yes. It was long."

"Well, maybe you and Dad should move closer."

"Well, maybe you should get married and give me some grandkids. Hello, Jim. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Beesley. Can't complain."

"Wonderful! It's good to see you again. Pam has talked about you so much, I feel like I already know you. Even when she was with Roy-"

"Mom-"

"Which one's Jim?"

Which one's Jim?

Which one's Jim?

Me, I'm Jim.

Me.

I'm the one who loves her, I'm the one who appreciates her.

I'm the one who adores her.

I'm the one who knows just how amazing she is.

Even if one else that I have ever found, does.

I'm Jim.

Jim Halpert.

James.

Michael calls me 'Jimothy' sometimes for some ungodly reason.

And I've been in love with your daughter from almost the first second . . .

"Hi. I'm Jim Halpert."

"Pam Beesley. Nice to meet you, Jim."

"Mr. Scott said, uh, said you were going to show me my desk?"

"Oh yes. Ha. Well, enjoy this moment. Because you're never going to back to this time before you met your deskmate, Dwight."

"Oh, uh, okay."

. . . she walked me to my desk on my first day of work.

And I'll probably never get over loving her . . .

"Hey, there's my girls!"

. . . even when she and Roy finally get married.

"Roy!"

Right before hell freezes over.

"So, where do you and Jim like to go for supper around here? I'm starving."

"Oh, uh, well, there's this Italian place Jim really loves-"