“Remind me again why I agreed to do this? Zip me.”

He stood up from his seated position on her living room couch and crossed the short distance to her. She carefully pulled her hair off her neck and shoulders and waited for his answer.

He zipped up the back of her charcoal grey dress and kissed the spot below her right ear. It was seemingly the only part of her not covered in layers of satin and pleated organza.

“--Because she asked you to?”

She turned to face him with pleading eyes. “We’re not even friends, really. We have nothing in common, besides the fact that we work in the same office. She thinks I am morally bankrupt. I enjoy paintings; she enjoys strange posters with babies on them. She called me a hussy, Jim, repeatedly-- for years.”

“You are being the bigger person. You are helping her out. She has no one else.”

“We’re—not-- even-- friends,” she punctuated every syllable as if they were like acid on her tongue. “I think she’s punishing me.”

“For what?”

“For all those pranks we’ve pulled on Dwight over the years. It’s like written in the Bible, or karma, or something.”

Jim chuckled and walked into Pam’s kitchen, pulling a grape soda out of the fridge and opening it. “Well, Dwight didn’t ask me to be his best man, so I must be doing something right.”

“Don’t remind me. Ryan told me this insane story about the one time he met Dwight’s cousin Mose. I am truly looking forward to walking down the aisle on his arm,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. “I’m going to finish getting ready.”

“Take your time. I’m in no hurry,” he loosened his tie a bit and fell back to the couch, flipping on the television. “And remember, less is more, Pam! And no green eye shadow--” He took a sip of his drink. “—because God forbid,” he muttered to himself.

“I look so matronly in this,” she whined as Jim put his car in reverse and then into drive. “My neck itches. I want to rip this thing off,” Pam began pulling idly at the pleated organza sleeves and neck covering that ruined a perfectly decent (if a tad plain) grey party dress.

He put a hand on her knee to still her movements. He brushed his fingers lightly over the satin material of Pam’s bridesmaid’s dress. “I think you should save any and all dress removal for after the ceremony. In fact, I insist—and I will be happy to assist you in that department.” He looked over at her briefly, searching her face for a smile, but her head was clearly somewhere else. As he pulled to a stop sign and briefly paused his driving, he reached over and pushed a stray curl behind her ear. She continued to stare unseeing out of the passenger window.

She sighed and closed her eyes. “God, I hate weddings.”

He nodded, turning the air conditioner on to make her more comfortable and turning the volume up on the stereo to do the same for him. The Schrute family beet farm was about 40 minutes from Scranton and he could tell the ride would be a quiet one.

“Wow,” he said with wonder as they pulled into the gravel lot marked DWIGHT K. SCHRUTE WEDDING. “This place is huge! Dwight really wasn’t kidding about that!” he looked over to her and ran his finger along her clenched jaw line. “Hey—“he whispered, turning her to face him. “—stop it.”

She sighed. “Can we just get this over with, please?” She slipped out of the car quickly, slamming the door behind her. She was halfway across the lot when she felt his hand grab her wrist, pulling her backwards. “Hey, watch it!”

He spun her towards him, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her against his body. “Stop it. Don’t do that,” he said softly.

“I—“she squirmed, but he only held on tighter. “—let go of me, Jim.”

“No, not until you remember that this is not your day. You may dislike Angela, but you agreed to do this for her and it is not cute for you to be acting this way. This isn’t you, Beesly. I’m not sure what the hell your problem is, but this isn’t you.”

She cocked her head to the side as she took in his gaze. He wasn’t backing down. She nodded slightly and he let go of her.

“Come on, help me get these presents out of the car,” he pulled her by the hand back towards his car and opened the door. He grabbed a medium-sized box from inside and placed it in her arms. She found his tie and pulled him towards her, planting a light kiss on his lips. As she pulled back, she wiped his lips with her fingers softly.

“Now you look like a girl,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

He licked his lips and smiled. “Strawberry, I can deal.” He pulled the other box from the backseat and shut the door behind him. “Besides, I’m sure I look even more irresistible than usual—pink gloss is all the rage this season.”

She chuckled as he grabbed her hand. “So, where do we go, exactly?” They stopped and looked up at the large farmhouse in the distance.

“JIM! Oh my God, Jim, YAY, you’re here early too! Come sit by me, please?” He had barely made it into the farmhouse when he saw Kelly begin jumping up and down, waving her arms over her head and pointing towards the folding chair beside her.

He sighed and smiled slightly, looking around to see if any of his other co-workers had arrived yet. Since his girlfriend was in the wedding, he was one of the poor suckers that had to arrive early and stay until the last guest departed. There were several rows of white folding chairs lined up in rows with an “aisle” in between. There were few decorations, save the large bouquets of white lilies adorning the makeshift altar in the front and something that appeared to be a wreath made of beets. Jim was not fazed by this.

”Hey, Kelly,” he looked around once more as he sat down beside her. “So, why are you here so early? This party doesn’t get started for another hour or so.”

She smiled. “I just love weddings. I mean, even if this is Dwight and Angela’s wedding, and we’re in a farm house, and there’s hay everywhere, and I have really bad allergies, but I bought this new dress and I think it looks pretty good since it’s pink and all and I was hoping maybe if I got here early enough I could find out from Michael if Ryan was going to be here without him getting all pissed off at me like he does every time I mention his name around him—he still calls him ‘Temp’ even though Ryan is his BOSS, Jim! Isn’t that messed up?” She stood up in place and did a small spin around so Jim could see the whole ensemble.

He nodded. “You look nice, Kelly.”

“Thanks, so do you! Where’s Pam? I bet she looks prettier than Angela. I mean, she has better skin. Angela has prettier hair, but Pam’s got a better figure, and Pam’s not a midget.”

Jim raised an eyebrow at Kelly. “Um, I’m not sure where Pam went off to—probably to help Angela, since she is the maid of honor.”

Kelly snorted. “Yeah, how did that happen anyway?”

The Women of Dunder-Mifflin Scranton: Meredith Palmer (too drunk), Phyllis Vance (hates Angela), Kelly Kapoor (hated by Angela), Pam Beesly (the least wrong choice). “Process of elimination,” Jim said under his breath.

Kelly snapped her head towards him. “What?”

“—um, so did you find out if Ryan is coming or not?”

“No,” Kelly sighed. “I thought maybe he had said something to you?”

Jim shrugged. “Ryan and I don’t really talk—unless it’s about work, and it’s like corporate versus the assistant regional manager things…”

“—so he doesn’t ask about me?” Her eyes were wide and sad and no matter how much she annoyed him at times, he didn’t like to see her that way.

“—um, Kelly, have I told you yet how nice you look in pink? It really suits you. Where did you get that dress?”

She chuckled and put her hand on his shoulder. “Oh, Jim, you’re such a girl sometimes!”

“Here, I wanted you to have this,” Angela turned away from the mirror and placed a small box in Pam’s hands. “I know you prefer gold to silver. I saw this and thought it suited you.”

Pam gave her a small smile as she opened up the box. Inside was a simple gold chain with a gold cross hanging from it. She ran her fingers across its scalloped edges and looked up. “It’s very pretty, Angela. Thank you. You didn’t have to—“

“I insist,” she smiled. “You were very nice to agree to be my maid of honor. I wanted to return the sentiment. I thought about giving you Juan Carlos, but then I remembered that Jim is allergic.”

Pam’s mouth formed a small “o” before she realized that Juan Carlos was a cat.

“—yeah, Jim loves cats, but he is allergic, so this was probably a better choice. I appreciate it,” Pam waited a beat before putting a tentative arm around Angela’s shoulders. She was wearing a simple ivory lace gown with a high neckline and pearls. She really did look very pretty.

Angela smiled and turned back to face the mirror. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, running her open palms along the sides of her dress. “Well, Pam, take a good look at Angela Martin, because she’s almost gone. Soon I will be Mrs. Dwight Kurt Schrute.”

God help her, Pam thought. She flashed a small smile at her when she caught her eyes in the mirror. “Are you ready?”

Angela nodded without another word.

Jim watched his girlfriend fidget uncomfortably at the altar and wanted nothing more than to take her place. He could feel her discomfort as surely as if she was standing on her tiptoes to speak it into his ear. He knew she hated weddings, that she had been disillusioned by the idea of marriage-- the long engagements, the elaborate planning, the idea that you could possibly be making the worst mistake of your life and not even realizing it because you are so wrapped up in doing what you are supposed to do when you love someone that much.

…and he did love her that much. He loved her more than she probably understood, so when she lay warm and naked in his arms and told him she wasn’t sure that she ever saw herself married, it stung, but only briefly. Then she was moving again, pulling his ear to her lips and offering soft, reassuring words to still his screaming mind. “I could never bring myself to leave you, so that’s that.” He caught her gaze as she ran her fingertips over Angela’s bouquet of white roses she was holding. Her eyes lit up warmly and he nodded in return. He wanted her to be enough. He wanted them to just -- be enough. His attention was drawn back to the ceremony just in time to see Dwight lean down and kiss Angela as the minister pronounced them husband and wife. Dwight laid a small wreath of beets on her shoulders before grabbing her hand and facing the crowd.

“I would like to introduce you all to the newest in the long line of strong Schrute women, Mrs. Dwight K. Schrute.” He held her hand above her head in some sort of victory pose and Jim was certain he would never see anything like it again as long as he lived.

The reception was also held in the farmhouse, a buffet table set up with the usual baked chicken, seasoned vegetables and mashed potatoes fare. However, the Schrute wedding would not have been complete without an assortment of beet-infused side items, including Cranberry Orange Beets, Charcoal Roasted Beets with Red Onions, and something called Beets with Zest. Jim decided to stick to the sautéed zucchini and squash. He was in the middle of putting together a plate for Pam when he felt a pair of warm hands encircle his waist.

“Um, wow, this is awkward—Kev, man, you know I have a girlfri—“he stopped abruptly and gasped when he saw Pam smiling up at him. “Wow, I totally thought you were someone else, Beesly!” he said sarcastically. “Care for any Roasted Beets?” He held a plate towards her.

“Actually,” she took both plates from his hands and put them on the table behind her. “I need your assistance with something that I forgot… in the car.” she raised an eyebrow and began walking out of the farmhouse and towards the parking lot.

“Planning your escape, Beesly? Looking for the secret Jack Daniels fountain in the back?” She finally stopped at his car and began fumbling with the zipper on the back of her dress.

“Help me,” she pleaded. “Don’t you have scissors or something in your car?”

He put a hand on her back and stilled her movements. “I know it’s dark and really, really secluded out here--” he pulled her body against his and put his hands on her waist. “--But I don’t think we should--“

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Hold on there, cowboy! I just wanted you to help get this organza crap off me. You can cut it away from the rest of the dress. Either you cut it or you help me rip it off. I can’t breathe.”

“Well, I don’t think I have anything like that in the trunk—let me check the ‘fashion emergency kit’ in the backseat.”

She smacked his arm. “Less snarking, more ripping, Halpert.” She started at her wrist, pulling with great force until she finally heard the sheer fabric begin to tear. He gently grabbed her other hand and placed it on his chest.

“Push,” he said. She braced herself against him as he began ripping the organza up her arm, across her shoulder and to her neck. He finished with the other sleeve and began pulling from the seam across the middle of her back and her chest. After a couple more forceful rips, Jim tossed the offensive material onto the ground and gave her a quick spin. After their minor modifications, it had gone from a drab colonial-looking number to a fairly sophisticated strapless party dress. He pulled the bobby pins holding her hair off her neck one by one until her curls slid through his fingers. He massaged her scalp with his fingertips gently. “There, all better.”

Pam wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his. “Mr. Halpert, you are getting so lucky tonight.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and tilted his head to the side as he gazed at her. “Obviously,” she shuddered at the suddenly low timbre in his voice. “We better get back inside before Dwight sends the sheriff’s department out looking for us.”

“Don’t make me go,” she whimpered. “Without booze, Dwight’s wedding is like my own personal hell.”

Jim grabbed her hand and pulled them back towards the farmhouse. He was on a mission. “Kelly told me that she heard from Andy that Meredith and Creed told him that Kevin told them that Oscar insinuated to him that Phyllis told them that Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration was bringing a nice, cool truck to this fiesta and stocking it with plenty of adult beverages. I say we smoke it out.”

Pam squealed. “Amazing!”

It didn’t take long for them to complete their quest, as more than half the Dunder-Mifflin Scranton office was behind the Schrute farmhouse discreetly sucking down mixed drinks like they were that trendy vitamin water stuff. The doors to Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration’s van were open wide like a street vendor in Brooklyn. Phyllis grabbed an ice scoop from inside and filled everyone’s plastic cups like the “cool mom” at a party.

“I think it’s time for some body shots!” Meredith suddenly cried, grabbing the bottle of tequila chilling in the mini fridge and fumbling through her purse for some shot glasses.

“Wow,” Oscar said, laughing and taking a sip of his beer as he shook his head.

“That is awesome,” Kevin said as he looked over Meredith’s shoulder into her large bag. “Do you have any buffalo wings in there?”

“Why would I keep food in my bag? That’s just weird,” she replied.

Creed spoke up next to her. “—tequila shots? I’m game, as long as it’s bourbon.”

“Andrew Bernard is game!” Andy raised his beer towards the darkened sky and continued. “—but only if we get to choose the body – and I, for one, choose the lovely Miss Pamela Beesly,” he smirked at her, his bright white teeth glowing in the dim light of the Chinese lanterns hanging overhead. Pam giggled, the rum in her Coke beginning to make her warm and slightly dizzy. Jim tightened an arm around Pam’s shoulders and hissed at Andy like an attacking cat. “—whoa there, Big Haircut, that was a joke.”

Jim hissed at him again, his free hand mimicking a tiger’s paw.

“Big Kitty’s got claws!” Andy retorted as Kelly wandered across the close circle to stand at his side.

“I like tequila,” Kelly said as she took a sip of the reddish-pink concoction in her hand. “—and I don’t even need salt, or limes. Isn’t that crazy?”

Andy looked down at her, his eyes twinkling with delight. “Surprising,” he gave her an obvious once-over. “Intriguing, as well.” Meredith handed him a shot glass and poured the brown liquid into it.

“Oops,” Pam said softly in Jim’s ear, tapping him on the shoulder and pointing behind them to where Dwight was standing, wreath of beets encircling his neck, arms crossed over his chest.

“Private party, huh? Pity I wasn’t invited, seeing that this is MY property, and all,” Dwight spat. He glared at them all one by one before his icy stare rested on Jim. Dwight walked over towards him, fists at his sides. “I should have known that you would pull something like this, Jim Halpert. I warned Angela not to include you on the guest list at all, but she insisted. She said that Pam was her maid of honor and she would be very upset if her love-r was not in attendance.” His voice lowered as if the next part was an afterthought. “--that’s the last time I let her decide anything of importance.”

The group snorted at the tone of Dwight’s voice when he deliberately pronounced “lover.”

“Chill out, Dwight,” Jim put his hand on Dwight’s shoulder. “We’re just having a little fun. No harm done.”

“You can’t have a private party—with alcohol-- during my wedding celebration. I won’t allow it,” he shook his head.

“Actually, we were just about to do tequila shots in celebration of the glorious union of you and your lovely bride. Care to join us? Come on, we did this after Phyllis’ wedding, right, Phyllis?” Jim asked. Andy held the bottle over his head and gestured towards Dwight.

Phyllis smiled sweetly at Jim and then quickly looked over at her husband. “Yeah, it was fun.”

“Dunder-Mifflin tradition! When Big Haircut and Pammy here finally tie the knot, we’re going to do the same thing.” Andy wiggled his eyebrows in Jim and Pam’s direction.

“Wow!” Jim cried.

“Don’t call me ‘Pammy’!” Pam shouted a little too loudly. Jim poked his finger into her side and she snickered.

Dwight shook his head. “Well, I suppose if it is a tradition, I cannot stand in the way of it.” He hung his head and nodded solemnly. Jim patted his arm.

“Come on, man. Just one for good luck,” he pushed the tequila shot into Dwight’s palm. Dwight glared at him and sucked down the shot, throwing the empty glass onto the lawn. Creed and Meredith immediately kneeled down to search for the lost object.

Jim nodded happily and patted Dwight’s shoulder. “And now, Dwight K. Schrute, you are officially a man.”

Jim, Pam, Kelly, and Andy sat a small table in the back the farmhouse, watching Angela and Dwight as an organ played some song they didn’t recognize. It was their first dance as husband and wife. Angela awkwardly rested her head against Dwight’s side to avoid crushing his wreath of beets and staining her dress.

Kelly and Andy were involved in a relatively serious conversation debating the merits of Angelina Jolie’s plan to adopt a child from each continent. Pam laid her hand at the nape of Jim’s neck and stroked his hair.

“If you lay a wreath of vegetables over my head at our wedding, I will hurt you, badly. Just a warning, Halpert.”

Our wedding.

“Seriously?” his voice broke slightly.

She turned to him and placed a warm hand on his cheek, speaking softly into his ear. “You know I could never, ever leave you, and I want to make you, like disgustingly happy. As weird as the whole beet thing was to witness, it made me a bit jealous. Angela and Dwight are like, bound together now, by stuff that no one else understands. I want us to have that someday. I want everyone to know that I am your family and you are mine and no one else can say that, ever.”

Jim nodded, looking down at their joined hands on her lap before placing a light kiss on her shoulder. “If I can’t put produce on you and publicly proclaim our love, Beesly, then I think we should just call the whole thing off.”

“Jerk,” she shook her head and he leaned in to kiss her, silencing any further protests. This was enough for him.