----------------------------------------- 

Together they sat back down on the couch, Pam approaching the situation much more cautiously now that she had shown him what was going on in her world. She picked up the sketchbook again and turned a few pages, stopping when she came across one in particular, and smiled.

Jim laughed softly. “I’m glad that you still have your sense of humor despite the situation,” he mused, looking down at the picture.

On the left was a charcoal drawing of the kitchen, half of Jim’s body absent from the image, hidden inside the ceiling. Pam was also in this drawing, looking not at all nonchalant as she tried to mask her laughter with a cup of water. On the right side of the book was a simple sketch: a hole punched in the drywall and two lone sombreros resting next to each other on the floor of the conference room, streamers and smashed piñatas littering the floor.

“Well,” she chuckled softly, “I have always prided myself on being your number one partner in crime.”

They both fell silent, finding the double meaning in her words. Not sure what else to say, she turned to the next page in the book.

“God,” he sighed, delicately taking the book from her hands. He touched the page reverently, his hands shaking slightly. On it, she had drawn the two of them in black and white, sitting close together in the break room, smiling, laughing; between them, in vivid color, was a can of coke, her peace offering after a day of silence.

Pam, too, stared at the page, flooded with the emotion from that day. Weakly, she smiled and offered, “Jinx.”

He returned her weak smile, but closed his eyes, remembering. “Do you know how hard it was for me to not talk to you that day?” he asked quietly. “You were trying to get me to break, joking, and said, ‘You can tell me anything, Jim.’” He opened his eyes and looked at her, and it broke her heart to see that his eyes were glossy with unshed tears. “You have no idea how close I was to just… to just telling you.”

She nodded, refusing to look away from him. A sad smile crossed her face as she said, “I think I’m beginning to understand.” She reached for his hand, grateful when she felt him squeeze hers back reassuringly.

With his free hand, Jim flipped the book over to the next page. Upon realization of what it was depicting, he laughed out loud, a sound she had truly missed. It was a simple, colored pencil rendering of Andy Bernard at reception, and the look on his face was propositioning.

Grinning, Jim asked, “I got you good, didn’t I, Beesly?” He couldn’t help but laugh, truly proud of himself.

She allowed him this victory, laughing along with him. “Yes, Jim,” she placated. “You got me good. But do you want to know why this is here, in this sketchbook? It’s a stupid reason, but I am trying to be honest, and courageous.”

He stopped laughing and looked down at her. “Hey. Don’t be like that.”

“Alright. This is here because… well, as you can see on my face in the drawing… I’m smiling. And it is not because I was just asked to go ‘throw a disc around’ with one Andrew Bernard,” she said, smiling, nudged him in the side. Ignoring his ‘Who, me?’ shrug, she took a deep breath and continued. “I happen to be smiling like an idiot because I realized that despite the absolute hell I’d put you through… you still knew me. Better than anyone.” She looked straight into his eyes to get her point across. “Jim, the fact that you still cared enough about me to set up this prank on me, that you still gave a damn… that meant more to me than you’ll ever know. And I guess… I don’t know, I guess that’s why I came here. Because I’ve never apologized to you, and I’ve never thanked you.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me for being your friend, Pam,” he interrupted quietly, but firmly.

She took his other hand in hers, needing him to understand. “Yes, Jim. I do,” she asserted. “Because it isn’t just that you’re my friend. God. You opened my eyes! You made me feel like I’m worth something.” Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, and her voice was shaking, but she needed him to hear this. “No one – no one – has ever done that for me, done anything for me so selflessly. And I’ve never thanked you for that, and I’ve never apologized for taking you for granted. Because I did, and I am so sorry.”

He leaned forward to take her in his arms, and she accepted his embrace greedily, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Inhaling his scent and reveling in the warmth of him, she couldn’t help but mumble into his neck, “I missed you. God, Jim, I missed you.”

He said nothing, but gathered her in closer, so close that she was half on his lap and he was wrapped around her. The utter absurdity of it all did not escape either of them: the hour, half past midnight; Jim in his pajamas; Pam’s clothes stained with clay and glaze from her class.

Her hands were warm on his back through the thin fabric of his t-shirt; his were wrapped in her messy hair and rubbing soothing circles on her lower back. His cheek came to rest on her head, and he whispered, “I’m so glad you came here tonight.”

Slowly, she pulled back from him, just enough to be able to look him in the eye, so close that she could feel his breath on her face. “Really?”

He rested his forehead against hers, nodding. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to your show.”

She was certain that he could feel her smile, even though his eyes were closed. “I’m glad you didn’t come.” At his surprised look, she continued. “If you’d come, then we probably wouldn’t be here.”

For a moment, he was silent, staring meaningfully into her eyes, leaning closer and closer.

And then he smiled. “Then I guess I’m not sorry.”

Laughing, she returned to her previous spot cocooned in his embrace. Though the issues between them were in no way resolved, she felt more relaxed than she had in years. Stealing a glance at his face, Pam was once again struck by how incredibly beautiful he was, inside and out. Almost on a sigh, as an afterthought, she said, “You know that I’m in love with you, don’t you?” Though it was phrased as a question, it came out as a definitive statement – internally, she tensed, waiting to feel him balk and pull away at her absolute lack of tact.

But instead, he sighed, shifting her in his arms to rest his cheek next to hers. “Yeah. I do.” He was quiet for a beat, but then she could almost hear him smile as he let out a soft laugh. “But, god… hearing you say it…” again, he laughed, a clear, gorgeous sound that was music to her ears, “you really don’t know how happy that makes me.”

His smile was contagious, and soon she was grinning from ear to ear, feeling like a complete fool but caring not in the least. “Well, then,” Pam stated, pulling back just far enough to look him in the eye, taking his face in her hands, “listen up. Jim? I’m in love with you. Pathetically, ridiculously, idiotically in love with you.” Smirking, she added, “It’s a bit sad, really.” He laughed again, and she continued. “I want you to be happy every day; you have no idea what your smile does to me. I want to be the reason that you smile – I know I was the reason you were unhappy for a long time, and I promise, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you let me.”

Quirking an eyebrow at her, he leaned in with a grin and whispered into her ear, “Pam Beesly, did you just propose to me?”

Shoving him in the shoulder, she laughed. “Not quite, Halpert. I guess… hell, I don’t know. Maybe I’m asking you out on a date; maybe I’m asking you to stick around forever.” She was quiet for a moment or two, and looked at him, serious. “I know there’s still a lot unresolved between us. I hurt you, and those first few months when you came back… you hurt me.” Shrugging, she smiled sadly at him. “And I know… I know you’re with Karen now, and – ”

“Pam,” he interrupted.

“Jim, she’s really great,” she continued. “And if she makes you happy… then I guess that’s something I’ll have to deal with. I just…”

“Pam.” He was a bit more forceful this time, but she continued over him.

“I just want you to be happy, Jim. You deserve happiness, and if she makes you hap – ”

She was interrupted again, but this time, it was not his voice that cut her off. Gently, but firmly, he pressed his lips against hers, effectively putting a stop to her nervous rambling.

Just as quickly he’d kissed her, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. “Now it’s your turn to listen up,” he said. “You make me happy, Pam. You make me happy. Karen and I…” he shook his head against hers before continuing. “That’s been over for a while; we just couldn’t admit it to ourselves. I haven’t been fair to her – or to you – and for that, I’m sorry. Because Pam, my feelings for you never changed. I wished they had, sometimes… but I didn’t stop loving you. I couldn’t.”

All that she could do was smile, and lean into him, taking comfort in the fact that she was there with him, with no walls. They sat there in silence until they both fell into a comfortable sleep, her sketchbook forgotten at their feet.