She sits at reception until five-thirty, hoping he would walk back in, ask her to forget this stupid day, and would she go have a drink with him.

Roy is sitting over by the warehouse when Pam exits the building. She tries not to look upset or disappointed, but when he tells her he's going out with Darryl and he'll see her at home later, she wants to chuck the keys at his head.

She squeals out of the parking lot, taking the turns too fast and running a light. He opens the door still in his work clothes, his tie loosened, the knot hanging down to the second button. He had been in such a good mood today at work and for a second she can't remember if she's ever seen him as happy outside of when he's talking and joking with her. He doesn't smile when he answers the door, instead furrowing his brow and asking what happened.

"Nothing happened," she tells him as he motions for her to come in out of the cold February wind. "Roy's going out with Darryl and you barely said a word to me all day. I hate this damn day."

"You love Valentine's Day." He counters and she snorts, sinking down onto his couch. She remembers now why she likes his apartment so much. It smells like him. Everything is comfortable and safe and warm. She feels a little light-headed and she wonders if she should go home, put on her flannel pajamas, and watch sappy movies until she falls asleep or Roy comes home smelling like stale cigarettes and warm beer. Jim touches her leg and she jumps a little.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "Your friends are coming over. I'm messing up your plans."

"No, it's okay. Stay." He looks at her with his big, concerned eyes and she wonders why Roy doesn't look at her like that anymore. Its all exasperation or hollow sounding apologies. No concern. Not like Jim. She falters a little bit when she hears this in his voice, suddenly blinking back tears. "Pam," he says softly and she doesn't know how he makes her name sound so reverent. His hand is warm on her shoulder and she wishes she could turn into him, into his touch. Instead she lets him comfort her, rubbing her shoulder and saying soothing things. He gets her a glass of water and a tissue, saying he needs to check something before disappearing into his room. She watches the shadows grow along the wall, breathing in his scent.

When she opens her eyes, the room is a dark indigo and she smells something cooking. She's sure the couch pattern is imprinted on her cheek but she doesn't care, creeping into the kitchen sheepishly.

"Hey," he greets as she shuffles into the kitchen. "Feeling better?" He pours marinara sauce over the spaghetti he just dished out of a big pot. "You want some food? I made plenty."

She starts to make some excuse but realizes with surprise that she would much rather stay here, in the warmth of Jim's kitchen, and eat dinner with him. "Yeah, it smells great." The look on his face is so pleased when she says this that she never wants to disappoint him again. She remembers what he told her the week before about the graphic design internship in New York and she thinks she might ask Jan about it on Monday. It's been a long time since she wanted something so badly. She glances up at Jim. Or maybe not so long.

He smiles at her, insisting she sit down as he puts their salads on the table. "You want something to drink? I've got milk, soda, tea, maybe some grape juice."

"You drink grape juice?"

"Its better for me than grape soda. Oh!" He pulls open the top cabinet and produces a bottle of wine. Without even asking, he pours them both a glass.

"Can I have some water too, please?" She asks softly.

"You are so demanding," he teases, getting ice out of the freezer.

When he sits down, she tells him everything looks great. "Thank you so much, Jim. I didn't come over here to get a dinner out of you."

"Consider it my gift to you."

"Better than what Roy got me. Might as well have gotten a bag of coal." Jim sighs and she winces. "Sorry. I know you don't want to hear me complain."

"No, it's fine. I just—I thought about getting you a little something. A chocolate rose or I don't know, but I was afraid Roy would take it the wrong way. This is the least I could do."

"You don't owe me anything, Jim."

"I know, I…I just hate seeing you disappointed."

"And that's sweet but it's not your fault. Roy is just a big oaf." Jim chokes on his wine and Pam starts to giggle. "No, you're not the only one who thinks that."

"So if he's such an oaf…" Jim trails off, swallowing hard. "Sorry, I shouldn't have--"

"No," she stops him, her hand touching his and then realizing what she's done, pulls away just as quickly. "It's okay. You listen to me complain about him, it’s a valid question." It is definitely valid but she had been questioning her situation recently. What had Michael meant about the Booze Cruise? Was it possible Jim had a crush on her not even a month ago?

"Pam," Jim says softly.

"What? Oh yeah, sorry. Things with him…it's comfortable. I know him really well and we know each other's quirks. It's just hard to explain, we've been together so long." She ducks her head, realizing everything she is saying could apply to Jim. Was what she felt for Roy really love? Or did she love the sense of normalcy?

"It's okay. You don't have to justify it. He takes care of you, I'm sure." Jim won't look at her and he's picking at his salad.

"But what?"

"What? Nothing."

"It sounded like there was a but," she pushes. Jim is too busy chewing to answer. He gets up, refilling her water glass and pouring himself some. She wishes she hadn't brought up Roy. "When are your friends coming over?"

"They're not," he sighs, sitting down.

"What? No, why—its not because I'm here, is it?"

"No, no." Jim shakes his head. "Most of them had plans with their girlfriends. Dan and I are the only ones not busy and I told him not to come. We would have been stuck watching some dumb NBA game."

"Well, I don't have any money, but we can play cards. Gin rummy or something."

"Gin rummy?" He cocks his eyebrow at her. "Beesly, do you also crochet doilies and dye your hair blue?

"Shut up! Gin rummy is fun. I bet I could beat you!"

"Oh, is that so? I seem to remember someone being the master of spider solitaire."

"That was because I had to do my faxes and you finished my game, you cheater!" She realizes she misses this. Roy teases her, but it's not in the fun, playful way she has with Jim. Roy's words always seem to hurt her.

"Fine. Gin rummy. You're on, Beesly." She grits her teeth and narrows her eyes at him, but is still smiling.

After dinner, her two glasses of wine start to sink in. She feels woozy and is having trouble explaining the game to Jim. They give up and start playing War, which is the only other game they both know besides Go Fish. When she has five cards left, her attention starts to wane and Jim calls it a draw.

"Do you have any girly movies?" She asks, surveying his collection.

"Like what? Legally Blonde?"

She rolls her eyes and laughs. She wonders briefly if Jim is still seeing Katy, but then she vaguely remembers Katy shooting daggers at Jim by the end of the Booze Cruise and she surmises things did not go well. "Anything with Audrey Hepburn? Or Katharine Hepburn? Any of the Hepburns, really. I'm feeling classic tonight."

"I think I have Breakfast at Tiffany's somewhere."

"I'm not even going to ask how that got into your collection."

"I have sisters," he shrugs, brushing off the case.

Pam tucks her feet under her as he puts in the movie. He sits back next to her and she notices they don't have the extra space between them that they did playing cards. For a second, she feels a little overwhelmed. Here she is, practically married and spending Valentine's with another guy, but then Jim is humming "Moon River" under his breath and she doesn't care. She's happy here with him and realizes, a bit sadly, that most of the fun evenings she's spent over the past few months have been with him.

She falls asleep sometime after Holly Golightly's identity has been revealed, but Jim shakes her awake gently, saying something about how the end is his favorite part. Mine too, she wants to say, but realizes that her head is on his shoulder and she doesn't want to move. She watches Holly search through the rain for "cat" and blinks back tears as Paul kisses her in the alley. Jim starts to get up to turn off the movie but she puts a hand on his arm, stopping him. "What?" he asks.

"I don't want to leave," she whispers. Jim seizes up underneath her and she hears him swallow.

"Pam."

She finally moves her head off his shoulder, but looks him in the eye as she asks: "You still had a crush on me on the Booze Cruise, didn't you?"

Jim's face goes slack and he closes his eyes, trying to process her question. "How did you--" His eyes fly back open, confused.

"It wasn't Michael's fault. He said he talked to you about it on the Booze Cruise and I got curious and asked him to clarify. He wouldn't."

Jim lets out a derisive laugh. "But you still…"

"I'm a good guesser," she says lowly.

He sits forward, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting in his hands. "Pam, I…I don't know what to say."

His ears are pink. "Then don't say anything." She reaches out, her fingers brush through his hair. Jim tenses and lets out a shaky breath. "But I think…I think I have a crush on you too." She tells him quickly, not thinking too much. She wishes she had another glass of water. Her mouth is dry.

He looks at her then, eyes wide, searching hers for some sign that this is all a joke, an elaborate plot she set up with Dwight to get him back for all the office tricks. She shakes her head, letting him know its not. It's real.

She expects him to tell her she's just upset about Roy or the wine is clouding her judgment. Instead he leans towards her and she sucks in a breath, her eyes fluttering close. His lips are warm and soft and she puts a hand on his chest. A warmth floods over her and she never wants him to stop. His hand falls slowly away from her face as they pull apart and she opens her eyes.

"I should have told you on the Booze Cruise," he murmurs. He looks so haunted that she leans in and kisses him lightly on the lips over and over. When she's finished, she rests her head against his chest, Jim's arms curled around her waist. She smiles sleepily.

The best thing is that neither of them ask questions. They know what it means. She's not sure she could start over with anyone but Jim.

***

When she gets home, she's relieved to find that Roy isn't there yet, passed out across the bed. Jim was worried about her going home alone, and she smiles in the dark as she thinks about it. She turns on a lamp, casting part of the room in a yellowy-orange light as she starts pulling clothes from the dresser.

She packs her pink suitcase to the brim and sets it back inside the closet. Changing for bed, she doesn't even bother to wash her face, not wanting to wash away the place where she could still feel Jim's fingers, his lips.

She listens for the bang of the front door to signify that Roy's home. Her mind wanders as she drifts off to sleep and she imagines she's back in Jim's apartment, pink suitcase in tow.

fin