When she sits down at her desk finally she feels people staring, and she can already guess by the end of the day she’ll have an e-mail from at least Phyllis asking her what’s going on (as if it wasn’t obvious by the huge grin on her face). It’s two hours before five and Pam tries to stay busy, though her ‘busy’ eventually becomes her just staring at the back of Jim’s head and trying to stop her hands from shaking. Him being there, back at his desk, doesn’t quite seem real and she wonders if it’s because she’s done so well convincing herself his leaving (again) was fine and she was fine and everything was fine. And she’s telling herself now not to get her hopes up yet, because just because he called it a date doesn’t mean it’s something really serious. She’s gotten her hopes up before (his call, his return, Roy, the art show…) and while she knows she can get through the disappointment (and is proud of herself for that) she’d rather keep the blow as soft as possible.
It’s ten minutes before five when he wanders over and looks at her for the first time since he asked. It’s like looking at night and day, really, because suddenly he’s gone from smooth and confident to nervous and shy and it makes her wonder how many times he practiced how he’d ask her on the way back to Scranton. The thought makes her smile, and she writes her information down for him as carefully as she can. The last thing she wants is for the date not to happen because of bad directions.
He walks her to her car and it’s almost like how things were before between them when he cracks a joke about Michael and Jan and she ends up having to lean against her car because she’s laughing so hard. She’s not stupid and knows it’s going to take a while for things to patch up, but something about him calling her ‘Beesly’ when he says goodbye brings back a feeling of warmth between them she feels like she almost forgot they had.
--
She calls her mom immediately when she gets home. She tells her how it happened and what it might mean and might not mean and how she’s feeling. It feels good to get it all out, the good and bad, because by the end of the conversation she doesn’t feel like she’s overloaded with emotions anymore.
And then she’s worrying about what to wear and how to be and before she can continue her mom stops her and just tells her to be herself. It’s advice she needs to hear and it’s the mantra she keeps repeating as the minutes tick closer to eight as she picks clothes out and tries to settle her nerves by drinking a cup of tea.
--
They go to the best restaurant in Scranton. It’s as nice as she’s heard it is, albeit a little stuffy, and maybe it’s that stuffiness that’s the cause of the sudden spike of tension between them. It probably isn’t helping she’s so used to seeing Jim in such a different light and suddenly seeing him dressed so nicely and trying so hard to do all the right things is a little hard to get used to.
He tells her to go wild with the menu (exact quote), but when she opens it all she can do is stare and wonder what half the dishes (all in French) meant. She almost remains silent and just pick a meal at random, but then she looks up and finds Jim’s face is mirroring hers almost exactly.
“Do you know what any of this says?” she asks, her voice low, and hopes she’s reading him right.
“I wonder if they have an English version of this,” he responds, shooting her a sheepish but entirely amused expression (and there, right there, that’s her Jim).
They share a look and suddenly burst out laughing, surprising a few of the people at the tables around them. It becomes abundantly clear that this isn’t them, and when he asks if she wants to go someplace else she agrees.
Jim drops a tip for the waiter even though they leave before they need him.
--
She wonders if she should feel a little stranger that she’s sitting in a Burger King in her best dress, because it really isn’t fazing her. They order the biggest meals their stomachs can handle and even though she’s got jumbo fries she keeps stealing Jim’s just because she can. He’s too slow (or at least pretends to be) to swat her hand away, eventually giving in and letting her take what she wants. She’s got a victorious smile as she dips one of his fries into her little bucket of ketchup, and he laughs and expertly steals one of her chicken nuggets so they’re even.
Halfway into their meal he starts to tell her everything that happened in New York – the fight he had witnessed between Jan and Michael and David, his interview, and, most importantly, the note she had left him that made him decide to turn the offer down. He talks little about Karen besides telling her he ended it, and she doesn’t push for more information that that because the wound is still fresh and she knows it. He tells her he knows he has a lot to make up for and how sorry he is for not being there and she just silences him there before he can go further, because she knows it’s high time for a fresh start for both of them. She knows that it’ll make things progress more slowly between them and she knows it won’t erase the pain that happened, but it’s the only way she can see things finally working for them. He agrees to the idea without hesitation, and she bites back a laugh when he pretends to introduce himself all over again.
And then they’re just talking (mostly about Dwight and his day-long reign as regional manager), just like they used to before in work, and she sees Jim glance over at something at one point and get that look in his eye that tells her he’s up to something. Not five seconds later he takes her toward the children’s area of the place and tries to get her into the offer ball pit by daring her to do it. At first she doubts he’s being serious until he actually scrunches himself up and manages to get into the small hole that is definitely not made to let a person his size in. She watches him watch her expectantly, and she knows then he’s waiting for her to follow him. She just laughs and tugs her heels off so she can climb in, eventually settling herself (a feat that’s harder than it sounds in a dress) next to him among the red, blue, and yellow plastic balls.
“We’re going to get in so much trouble,” she tells him in a conspiratorial whisper.
“It’ll be worth it,” he responds, cheerfully, and all she can think of is how hysterical it would be if they were kicked out of a Burger King on their first date.
And despite the strange surroundings they keep talking, all the while intermittently tossing balls at each other playfully. She finds it easier to open up as the minutes tick by, and suddenly she goes beyond telling him what happened in work since he’s been gone and starts telling everything else, about the art classes and the people she’s met in them and her professor (who hates everyone, she thinks) and her apartment (that she just painted) and how she bought a plant a month ago that died in a week. He encourages her to give details, like maybe he’s trying to imagine what she’s talking about. It’s strange when she realizes suddenly just how obvious the difference is when someone is really listening and when someone is just pretending to.
She even tells him about how she felt all these months, and how much she really did miss him (in case the first two times hadn’t sunk in), and how positive she had been that he was about to be out of her life forever less than twenty-four hours ago. He returns her honesty with his own, and it’s only the second time she really feels he’s being up front with her completely. She can’t help but feel like it’s a good sign; a step in the right direction.
They’re finally noticed while he’s talking, and one of the employees walks over and tells them that they weren’t supposed to be sitting where they were sitting. Pam flushes a deep red as Jim gets up and helps her up too, and when he blames her for the idea she smacks him hard in the arm, laughing. By the time they leave she can see the worker staring at them like they’re crazy out of the corner of her eye, and it just makes her giggle a little harder.
--
He keeps missing close parking spots and after the third one he skips she realizes he’s probably purposely parking a good block from her building to walk with her a little while. His car’s clock flashes midnight just as he pulls into a spot and turns the car off. They walk side by side down the street, and Pam keeps glancing at him to watch the street lights illuminate his face. She eventually feels his hand slide into hers, and she doesn’t hesitate to link her fingers between his larger ones. The simple gesture brings the giddiness back all over again, and she’s quietly glad for the darkness, because she feels the familiar burning of her cheeks and just knows her blushing is noticeable.
They stand before the steps of her porch and a part of her really doesn’t want the night to end, because she’s half expecting this is the point she’ll wake up. When she glances up at him she realizes he has a sort of lost expression on his face, like he’s not sure what to do, and it’s an honest comfort to know she isn’t alone in the feeling. A strange urge comes over her and she reaches up to muss up his hair a little. When she pulls back he’s looking at her quizzically, and she ducks her head and grins.
“It’s too neat, I think,” she explains, and hopes that makes sense to him, because saying it out loud makes it sound kind of silly.
Any worry of him finding the statement stupid leaves immediately when he responds by kissing her. It takes her by surprise at first, but it takes her mere moments to relax into it, to slide her hand up against his neck and then up to cup his cheek. It’s tender and sweet and nothing like the first time, which she’s now realizing really did feel final and almost desperate. When she pulls away it’s only to breathe, and her face remains inches apart from his and her hand stays where it is because she just can’t quite bring herself to move away just yet. He smiles at her when he leans his forehead against hers, and for the very first time in a year – maybe in her life - things feel like they are the way they should be. They fall into a heavy but not at all uncomfortable silence for what feels like minutes, and she lets herself enjoy the feeling of his breath on his skin and the faint smell of his aftershave just in case what she’s about to ask ruins the moment. When she finally feels like she’s ready, she makes herself catch his gaze.
“Are you back?” she asks, softly. It’s something she needs to know before she lets herself go completely.
He’s silent for a (agonizingly) long moment, just staring back at her, before nodding his head once. “Yeah, I’m back.”
It doesn’t take her long to break into a grin, and with one step forward she wraps her arms around his waist, burying her face into his chest. She can feel the vibration of his laugh against her cheek when his arms settle around her body. It takes everything in her to force herself to pull away, taking his hands in hers.
“Welcome home.”
His smile matches hers when she says it, and it’s her leaning in this time to press her lips against his.
--
It’s only after the date, when she’s out of her dress and ready for bed, that she sees the note tucked away in the flowers he brought her. She pulls it out and slides into a seat at her little dining room table. She opens it up carefully and pulls out the card.
You definitely deserve this more than I do. See you tomorrow.
-Jim
She doesn’t get it until she takes a look inside the envelope again. Tucked away inside was the ‘medal’ she had attached to his note; the one she had kept since the day they had put together the office Olympics. She stares at it for a long moment before putting it down carefully on the table and standing up, brushing away the (truly happy) tears she knows are threatening to roll down her cheeks.
