The decision was made one night as they lay together on the couch, limbs tangled, Chinese take-out scattered on the coffee table.

His lips brush across the top of her head as he murmurs.  "I want you to stay here."

"Mmmm?"  She yawns and snuggles closer.

"I think you should move in here with me."  He says, his voice rising slightly.  He wants to make sure she hears him.

Her head snaps up and her eyes widen.  "Are you serious?"

"Yeah."  He can't quite read the look on her face so he's cautious.  "Pretty much."

"You want me to live here?"

"Maybe here.  Maybe somewhere else, somewhere new - like...a fresh start.  That might be nice."

"Somewhere new.  With you?"  She keeps repeating after him, unable to truly believe they're having this conversation.  She'd been having the same exact thoughts for a while now but wasn't sure he felt the same way. 

His eyes gleam with amusement.  "Yes.  See here's the thing.  You've spoiled me Beesly.  After business hours I get so tired of having to answer my own phone..."

"Stop it."  She slaps his arm.  "Are you really serious?"

"Yeah."  He laughs softly.  "Oh and just fyi...I have a machine as a backup for when your services are needed elsewhere.  Trust me - they will be."

"Jim..."  She says with a laugh.  "C'mon..."

He talks right over her.  "Of course there is an extensive interview process.  But the benefits..."  He gives her a peck on the nose.  "If I do say so myself - they are pretty fantastic."

"Quit joking."  She says as she kisses him to shut him up.   "I thought you said you were serious."

"Oh.  I am."  The way he kisses her back proves it.

Her head spins and she tries to catch her breath as she processes it all. 

"This is a big step..."

"Not so big."  He shrugs.  "We practically live together already."

"Are you doing this because you think you have to or 'cause you want to?"

He looks at her as if she's crazy.  "Of course I want to.  And I really can't believe you need me to spell it out for you like this.  I love you.  Being with you makes me happy.  The way I see it - being with you all the time would make me even happier."

"Me too." 

And just like that it's decided.  Her eyes are shiny and a smile blooms on her face as she kisses him again to seal the deal. 

xoxoxo

She should have suspected that he's a pack rat - but it doesn't stop her from being surprised to see the extent of it.

"I have two words for you, Jim.  Garage. Sale."

He snatches a ratty sweatshirt from her hands.  "And I have two for you.  No. Way."

"What are you saving this stuff for?"

"Posterity."

"Trust me.  No one in future Halpert generations will want that sweatshirt.  Or...a broken PlayStation...or..." She trails off and stares at him.  "What is this?"

"What?"  He drops the sweatshirt and peers over her shoulder. 

"Call of Duty?  Huh.  That's funny.  I thought you hated this game."  She holds the case in her hand.

"I forgot I kept that."

"Oh that's convenient."  She mutters.

"Seriously.  I've had it forever.  Mark gave it to me before..."

"Oh so Mark gave it to you." She says bitterly.  "Or maybe..." She tosses the game back in the box and stands. "...you just want to remember who you used to play this particular game with."

This will not end well and he knows it.  Even so, he tries to deflect the conversation with a joke. 

"C'mon Pam.  I still see Andy every day."

"That's not funny."

He hangs his head, knowing it is a lame attempt.  "You're right.  I could have sworn he'd self-destruct by now. "

It's as if she doesn't hear him.   She shakes back her hair and tilts her chin defiantly.  "Tell me the truth.  You miss her."

"What?"  He levels his gaze.  "C'mon.  Don't do this..."

"Go ahead. Keep the game."  She kicks the box. "Play it all you want."

"I don't want to play the game."  He says, his voice tight.  "Are you seriously going to do this?  Let me remind you of something.  We're here sorting through stuff because I'm moving in with you."

"Yeah. You know what?  Suddenly that doesn't seem like the best idea."  She blinks back tears.  "I mean...if this shows me anything it's that you're having second thoughts..."

"Are you kidding me?  Pam.  I would not have asked you if I didn't want to..." He sighs heavily. "You are freaking unbelievable."

"No.  I'm realistic."  She counters.   "Face it, Jim.  It just might be too quick..."

If they're going to fight, he's going to make damn sure they get to the point quickly. 

"Bullshit.  Tell me what your real problem is.  Actually don't bother.  I don't need you to.  Your problem is that I dated someone for less than a year while you got your act together.  During which time - might I remind you - you got back together with your ex-fiancé..."

"Don't you dare throw that in my face.  I know exactly what I did and why I did it."  She snaps back at him. 

"Yeah well."  He inhales sharply. "So do I." 

It's suddenly what amounts to a standoff, each one on opposite ends of his bedroom, both too stubborn to give in.   The minutes ticking by seem like hours.  In the end they speak each other's names simultaneously.

She raises a hand to stop him from talking.  "No.  I'm the one who just went psycho.  Please." She says softly as she ducks her head.

He nods and crosses the room towards her.

"I waited too long.  I let that happen."  She hugs her arms around herself.  "And I hate it."  Two fat tears roll down her cheeks, splashing onto her dust covered T-shirt. 

"Hey..." He whispers as he tugs at her arms, so he can pull her against him.  He wraps his own arms around her and holds tight.  "C'mon.  That is not at all true.  It was just as much me as it was you.  I pushed you - and you weren't ready.  I'm not sorry I said something but once I did - I should have waited..."

She sniffles against his chest, fisting his shirt in her hand.  Close as they are, it's not nearly close enough. 

"I'll make a deal with you OK?"  She says, her voice choked with tears.  "You can keep everything.  Honestly.  I don't care.   Just not anything that has to do with her."

It's an easy deal to make - truth is he does hate that game.  But he knows that's not nearly the point.

"I promise."  He says softly as he nuzzles her neck.  "Tell you what.  I'll even swear off Italian food if it makes you happy."

xoxoxo

For all the time they spent at each other's apartments prior to the big move - there were so many things they didn't know.

As he walks towards the bedroom she follows him, practically dead on her feet.    Her arms curl around his waist so he's nearly dragging her with him by the time they reach it.

"I'm never moving again."  She yawns as she steps around him and flops down on the bed.

"I'm with you - this is exhausting."

"Completely."  She smiles up at him, arms stretched out at her sides.  "I'm so tired I can't even change.  You're going to have to take off my clothes for me."  She laughs, her sneakers landing on the floor with a thump as she kicks them off.  "But don't get any ideas..."

"Well then, forget it.  I don't do work like that for free."  He laughs as he stands next to her, pulling his sweatshirt off and throwing it into the corner of the room, quickly doing the same with his jeans. 

She can't help but think that he looks like a little boy, all sleepy eyed in his t-shirt and boxers.  Yet.  She smiles softly, a blush filling her cheeks, not really so little.   She blinks away the image as she hears his voice again. 

"C'mon Beesly.  Move over."

"Get your hearing checked.  I just told you."  She laughs back at him.  "I'm never moving again.

He nudges her with his knee.  "Relax.  I'm not asking you to pack a box - just shift two feet to the left."

"Why?" 

"Because.  I sleep on the right side of the bed."

"What?"

"The right side?"

"Oh.  Um..."  With great effort, she makes herself sit up.  "So do I."

"Oh."  He scratches his head and starts laughing louder.  "So weird.   How did we never notice this?"

"I think we alternated?  When I stayed at your place I would sleep on the left."  She blushes a bit.  "Not to mention in the beginning I really didn't pay that much attention to where I ended up."

"Yeah.  I'm with you there."  He smiles back at her.  "So what are we going to do about it?"

She knew it was irrational but she really liked the right side.   She liked to be able to just roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom in the morning.  Maneuvering from the left side took much more coherent thought.

It seems they have quite the dilemma.  "Hmmm.  Flip a coin?"

"Sounds fair."  He glances at the boxes stacked around the room.  "Now - if I could actually find a quarter..."

"My purse is in the hallway."  She says and then reconsiders.  "No wait - the living room.  You know what?  It might be in the kitchen..."

He can't be bothered.  He gazes down at her and sighs.  "Forget it.  I'm giving it up.  You win."

"Jim.  No.  I'll move over."

"It's not that important."

"No.  I'll move."  She insists.

He shakes his head and starts to walk to the opposite side of the bed.  "Don't.  Pam - seriously."

"No.  I'll move."  She says again as she does just that.

As he climbs into bed he looks at her closely, still skeptical.  "You don't have to..."

"I want to."  She says with conviction as she curls into him, exhaustion setting in, her eyes fluttering closed almost immediately.  "This is the very least I can do."

xoxoxo

It's nice here with just the two of them.  It's like they're in their own little world where nothing can touch them.

She shifts beneath him on the couch, sighing when his fingers drift across her stomach.  Her back arches as his hand slips under her t-shirt, glides over her breast.   Her heart pounds under his palm.

She jumps at the sound of cymbals crashing.

"OK.  Seriously."  She says blowing her hair out of her eyes in annoyance.

He chuckles against her shoulder.  "Do you want me to go say something?"

"No.  I want to go say something."  She presses her hands to his chest in an effort to push him off her.

She's got to be kidding.  He gazes down at her in amusement.  "What exactly are you going to say Pam?"

"That some people are trying to have sex and would like to do it without a heavy metal soundtrack."

"OK."  He bites his bottom lip to keep his laughter at bay as she scrambles out from under him.  "Go get ‘em Beesly."

She stops halfway to the door and turns back towards him.  "Do you think I'm being unreasonable?"

"Not at all."  He admits.  "I'm just sort of wondering.  When did we get so old that a little music..."

There is the screech of a guitar and the pounding of drums.  The bookcase rattles beside her.  "You call this music?!?"

There's no way he can put up a good argument now.  "OK.  Maybe not."

"I'm not saying they can't play it...just that they should play it at a reasonable volume.  Like down a few decibels from ‘eardrum shattering'.  Really.  I don't think it's too much to ask."

"You're right."  He agrees.  "I'll go tell them..."

"No.  I said I'd do it."  She replies walking to the door and throwing it open.  She glances back at him, rolling her eyes.  "I know you.  If you go you'll get them to stop in exchange for beer."

He laughs.  "Hey.  Don't knock it.  It worked the last time."

She stomps off to the apartment next door.  She leans on the doorbell.  He stands back - waiting...watching.  The sound gets decidedly louder as the door opens.

He can see her, her hands on her hips and her cheeks flushed, the way she looks whenever she's really worked up about something. 

He can't exactly hear what she's saying but all of the sudden the music stops.  Then he can hear a chorus of genuinely repentant "I'm sorrys." and "Won't happen agains."

The door clicks shut quietly as she walks back towards him, practically skipping she's so proud of herself.

"Look at you.  Pam Beesly - Master Negotiator."  He's so enchanted by her he can't tear his eyes from her face.  But that's nothing new.  "How did you manage that?"

She saunters past him and gives him a shrug. "I can be very persuasive when I want to be." 

"I gotta say...you taking charge like that?  That was pretty hot."  He snags her hand and pulls her against him, crushing his mouth to hers. 

He shifts to press his lips to her neck, nibbling gently.  "So are you." 

"You want me to take charge?" She murmurs as she leads him back towards the couch.  Once there she shoves him and effectively pins him down, kissing him thoroughly, laughing at the look of shock on his face as she pulls away. 

"Now."  She says with a wicked grin.  "Where were we?"

xoxoxo

It's not like either one of them haven't shared space with someone before.  He lived with Mark - she with Roy.

But of course, this was much different.

She stands next to the bed, smoothing sweet scented lotion on her hands.  "Jim.  The towels don't dry right when you hang them like that."

He looks up from his book and squints at her.  "Huh?

"You need to put them over the bar - not on the hooks."

"Why do we have hooks then?"

She talks slowly, as if speaking to a small child.  "Hooks are for bathrobes..."

"Bathrobes specifically?"

She shrugs and nudges him to move over so she can turn down the covers. "Yeah.  For the most part."

She smiles widely when he shifts to the left.  Even though she'd relinquished the right side of the bed she knew what he was up to. 

She'd noticed he'd been doing that more and more lately.  Tonight it seems he's definitely claimed the left side as his.   She is sure if she questions him he'd say he just got tired of hearing her stumble around when she got up in the middle of the night.  But she knew it was more than that.  Even when she tried to do something for him he still couldn't help himself.   It's the smallest of sacrifices, but it makes her fall a little more in love with him just the same.  It's almost enough to get her to stop nagging him. 

But not quite.

He clicks the remote and watches as she begins her nightly ritual.  Pick up one pillow, then another, arrange them in the shape of a T.  Finally, she lies back down.

So cute.  He thinks with a grin.

"Jim.  I'm not kidding about this.  The towels get all musty when you don't hang them up right."

"OK - I promise.  From this point forward I'll use the hooks for bathrobes only."

"Thank you."

"That is...when I become someone on a 50's sit-com and actually own a bathrobe..."

"Jim."

He can't believe they're even having this discussion.  "This means that much to you?  Seriously?"

"Yes.  Let me put it in perspective.   This means as much to me as having a TV in the kitchen means to you."

"You have to admit..." He begins, knowing he's caught her watching TV in there herself.

"I admit nothing.  I'm secure enough in our relationship that I don't mind your little crush.  I can handle you having to eat breakfast with Meredith Vieira."  She winks at him.

He smiles as he shifts to lay along side her and stares into her eyes, tucking a tendril of her hair behind her ear.

"Well in that case I can handle hanging the towels on the towel bar."

"Thank you."  She whispers as she leans over to press her lips to his.  "See how lucky you are?  This is how easy it is to make me happy."

"The romance of bath towels."  He shakes his head.  "Who knew?"

xoxoxo

They each have their own traditions.  It's funny how easily they're able to combine them.

"Did you make all these?"  He says, his voice filled with wonder.

"Most of them."  She replies.  "My mom still kept some.  You'll see the rest when we go there on Christmas Eve."

"Amazing."  He smiles down at her before picking up another ornament and hanging it carefully. 

She beams as she watches him reach the highest branches.  Last Christmas she'd had to pick a much shorter tree.

She runs a hand across his waist as she stretches around him to place an ornament on a limb near the back.  "You're handy to have around you know that?"

He chuckles back at her.  "Yes.  So you've said.  I'm well aware of your aversion to insects.  Not to mention step ladders..."

"I know - I'm a wuss.  But seriously.  When I had my own apartment I almost fell once trying to change a light bulb.  And all I could think of was like...oh my God.  What if I had a CSI moment?"

"Huh?"

"You know.  All I could think of was what if I fell and cracked my head open?  And then days later they'd come find me..." 

The mere thought caused a wave of terror to coarse through him.   "Don't even kid about stuff like that, Pam."

"I'm just saying..."

"I'm just saying."  He replies his heart still pounding a bit too fast.  "Besides.  In case you haven't noticed.  You aren't alone now."

"Good.  Then you'd find me first."  She giggles.  "Do me a favor?  Hide my romance novels..."

"Hey."  He looks at her, his complexion pale.  "Can we just go with you not falling in the first place?"

She can see now he's not going along with the joke.  "OK."  She reaches up and runs a hand across his brow, hoping to erase the worry she sees there.  "Jim.  I'm joking.  C'mon.  I'm not going anywhere..."

"Better not."  He mutters and lifts another ornament in a shaky hand.

"I'm not."  She promises.

He nods. 

Carols play softly in the background.  The lights are low, only the tree and some strategically placed candles illuminate the room.   They move together in companionable silence for a bit before stepping back and admiring their handiwork.

"Pretty cool."  He says softly as he takes her hand in his and brings it to his lips.

"It is." She reaches out, runs her finger over a figurine made of frosted glass.  "I love those snowmen your mom sent."

"I know -  aren't  they great?  I think the ones she gave us are from Christmas two years ago.  I can't keep track.  She's got tons.  Every year she does the tree in a different theme.  Drives my dad insane. I have no idea what she'll come up with this year."

She gazes up at him curiously. "Do you want us to do that?"

Watching her distracts him.  He's come to realize it happens a lot.  "Hmm?  What?"

Her eyes flutter a bit.  She stares at the floor, then back at him.  "Do the tree in a different theme every year?  I could do that - I can make a whole bunch of ornaments..."

Us?  Every year?  Yeah, Beesly.  I'm all for it. 

"That...would be amazing."  He says as he follows her over to the couch.

"Maybe I'll make some for your mom."  She muses as she snuggles up beside him.

The white lights of the tree twinkle as he lies back on the couch and pulls her close.  "She would..."  He pauses to press a kiss to her temple.  "...absolutely love that."

xoxoxo

They make a great team.  Always have.  Always will.

She hears him before she sees him, the slide of the shower curtain rings, the click of the shampoo bottle.

His hands are in her hair, massaging her scalp before he says a word.

She's already washed her hair but keeps silent.  The bottle does instruct to 'repeat' after all.

She tips her head back to rinse the lather away as his lips touch down on her shoulder.  His voice is low and filled with sleep as he whispers.  "You're up early."

"I've got a lot to do today."  She smiles, nibbles on her bottom lip as she turns in his arms to face him.  She clears her throat as her eyes drift downward, then meet his own.  "And um...I could say the same thing about you."

"Me?"  He replies, his voice full of amusement, his face set in a serious frown.  "Pam.  I don't know what you're talking about.  I'm simply a conservationist."

"Oh.  So you're just here with me for the sake of the environment?"  She asks.

"Yes."  He nods, his tone resolute. 

She smiles as she leans back under the spray.

"But."  He offers as his hands glide over her skin. "There's nothing wrong with multi-tasking." 

"No."  She sighs as she melts against him.  "Nothing at all..."

She finds, as is usual when they've started the morning in such a manner, she can't keep from touching him.  She holds his hand across the table as they drink coffee, brushes past him in the kitchen as he rinses their mugs in the sink, curls her arms around him as he puts the milk away.

An hour later she's back in the kitchen alone, nervous and giddy as she searches for the frying pan.

She drops it with a clang and rushes to retrieve it.

He's startled by the noise, and goes to find the source.   When he finds her on her knees on the tile floor he places his hand over hers to steady it. 

"Easy."

"I know."  She nods, blowing out a breath.  "It's just brunch.  But it's also the first time that both our parents will be in a room together..."

"And it'll be fine."  He says reassuringly.

He stays with her then and in no time everything's ready.  The table is set an hour before their guests arrive, mimosas are chilling in a pitcher in the fridge, the makings of French toast are lined up on the counter.    

And in the end - of course - he's right.   Though it is the first time their parents have met, its immediately apparent that their children aren't the only ones who have a lot in common.  The sound of laughter is soon ringing through their tiny space.

During a rare lull in the conversation he asks if anyone needs a refill on their drinks, carefully gathering glasses as he makes his way to the kitchen.  She slips away a moment later and follows him. 

As she comes up behind him, she tugs on his sleeve until he faces her.  When he does she rises on her toes to touch her mouth to his. 

The kiss is long, slow and sweet, one that promises that if their respective parents weren't ten feet away it would lead to much, much more.   His lips curve into a smile as she rocks back on her heels and pulls away.

"What was that for?"  He asks, though not really caring at all what the reason might be.

"You.  Me.  Us.  This."  She whispers, leaning close to kiss him again.  "This living together thing?   Such a brilliant idea."

As his hands slide around her waist to pull her closer, it's clear he could not agree more.