Pam glanced at her watch as she punched the elevator button for the third floor - it was already 8:57. For the past year she had been getting to the office a good hour or so earlier. She would be sitting at her desk and drinking her first cup of tea by eight o'clock. Sometimes she arrived early because she had spent the night before tossing and turning in a failed attempt to get her proper eight hours of sleep. But often, it was because Pam just couldn't stand being alone in her apartment anymore. Even though she wasn't that friendly with many of her co-workers, she used to be comforted by the fact that if she choked on a piece of her bagel, someone would be around to do the Heimlich maneuver. Even if it was Creed.

But now, Pam thought as a smile crept across her face, she had much better things to do than to waste a precious extra hour of her time sitting at the reception desk. Now that she was finally, finally dating Jim, yeah, she had a lot of better things to do.

And as she opened the door to Dunder Mifflin's suite, Pam was quick to notice that other than her partner in crime, she was the last to arrive. She had just seen Jim when they kissed goodbye on her doorstep no more than a half an hour ago, but Pam still felt a pang of disappointment when she saw his empty desk. She shook her head and smiled as she dropped her purse on her desk. She never thought she'd ever be that girl who couldn't function without her boyfriend nearby. But now, she was more than okay with that being that girl.

"Well, isn't it just a Pam-tastic Friday morning!" Michael said, boisterously interrupting her thoughts as he walked out of his office and strolled over to the reception desk. "TGIP. Thank God it's Pam!"

"Good morning, Michael," Pam said with a genuine smile. Even Michael was somewhat easier to take now that things in her personal life were going so much better.

"Be on the lookout for a special delivery for me today."

"Uh, sure," Pam said. She suddenly had to try a little bit harder to maintain her smile.

"Don't you want to know what I ordered?" Not really, Pam thought.

"What did you order, Michael?"

"An autographed poster of the cast of Two and a Half Men. 100% authentic. Jan said we needed some art around the condo, so she's just gonna love this."

"Yeah, she will," Pam said, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Wow. She was willing to bet Jan's idea of art differed greatly from Michael's.

"2.5 Men has the number one spot on my DVR, Pam. Do you get it? 2.5? It's funny because it means the same thing as 'two and a half.'"

"Yeah, that's great, Michael." Pam twisted her lips into an odd shape, trying to hide the smile that was begging to break out. Of course Michael Scott watches that show, she thought.

"Let me know pronto when it gets here. Even if I'm on a conference call with corporate. Especially if I'm on a conference call with corporate."

"Of course."

"That's priority number one for you today, Pam, okay?" Michael nodded and slowly started to head back towards his office. As far as Michael encounters went, this one was pretty tame, Pam thought. Things were definitely looking up in all facets of her life. She shook her computer's mouse and waited for the machine to whirl back to life. Pam used to shut her computer down properly every night, but she hated having to wait five minutes every morning for it to boot up. And, hey, the computer belonged to Dunder Mifflin, so she didn't really care that much about keeping it in good shape.

As her black screen slowly faded into her desktop image, Pam couldn't help but smile. She had changed it last week from the boring, blue Dunder Mifflin background to a picture of her and Jim from their recent trip to the Philadelphia Zoo. She had been slightly nervous to ride the Zooballoon, but seeing the view of the city from 400 feet up in the air was too fun to pass up. And having Jim's arm snug around her waist definitely helped ease her slight fear of heights. The zoo had a staff member up in the balloon taking photos of all the riders, and theirs had turned out pretty good. Pam thought she'd never be one to buy one of those tacky, overpriced souvenir photos – let alone scan that photo and make it her desktop background. Oh, well, she thought. At least she didn't buy the coffee mug or the key chain. Plus, she had fun trying to hide the picture whenever one of her nosy co-workers was around.

Pam glanced at the clock on her task bar. 9:07. Where was he? She hoped nothing was wrong. What if he got a flat tire or something? To distract herself from worrying, Pam decided to check her e-mail. She was halfway through deciphering a supply order request from Creed (12 stickee doo-dads?) when she heard a tapping noise on the counter.

"It's way too early for you to be concentrating that hard, Beesly." Finally! She grinned, and noticed that Jim was carrying one of those cardboard drink holders you get at the drive thru, with two Starbucks cups nestled snugly inside.

"You bought Dwight a coffee? That's so sweet."

"I bought myself a chai latte, and Starbucks was having, like, a buy one, get one free sale."

"Starbucks had a sale?"

"Weird, I know. You wouldn't happen to know anyone around here who likes chai lattes, would you?"

Pam blushed. "I might."

"Good. Wouldn't want to let this go to waste," Jim gave her a wink as he carefully took the drink out of the cup holder and passed it over to Pam. She reached out to take the cup and their fingers brushed for a quick second. Even though they certainly shared more intense physical contact than that lately, Pam was amazed at how the simplest of touches from him still made her feel warm all over.

"Thanks," she said as she simultaneously tried to smile and blow on the lid of her drink.

"Yeah, and they also, like, forced me to take this multigrain bagel with strawberry cream cheese," he said, pushing a small paper bag towards her. "I kept telling the girl that I was on a low-carb diet but she wouldn't take no for an answer." He wiggled his eyebrows, and it took all the strength she had not to grab him by the collar and plant one on him.

"Well, I might know someone who can take that off of your hands."

"Good, Beesly. Knew I could always count on you," he said with a slight nod. Pam sipped her chai latte as best she could while still keeping the huge grin on her face. She watched him as he walked over to his desk and wondered how she got to be so lucky. Here she was worrying why he was so late to work and it was because he wanted to surprise her with her favorite breakfast from Starbucks. Yeah, she thought, things were going really, really great.

As Pam spread the cream cheese on her bagel, she glanced at her computer screen and saw that Jim had signed on to instant messenger. She clicked on Jim's screenname and began the virtual conversation that they normally would carry on for the entire workday.

pambeesly: thanks for breakfast...you are amazing! :-*

jimhalpert: right back atcha. :-)

pambeesly: :-D

jimhalpert: ;-)

pambeesly: O:-)

jimhalpert: Okay, after last night you have forever forfeited the right to use the angel smiley face.

jimhalpert: and I love it. :-P

Pam could feel her cheeks growing hot when flashes of how she and Jim spent their Thursday night start to invade her mind. A good time was had by all, she remembered as she smirked to herself. Pam looked up from her computer screen to see Jim giving her a smoldering look that she felt all the way down to her toes. It did not help the blushing situation whatsoever.

pambeesly: HEY! =-O

pambeesly: but you're right. and I love it too. :-)

jimhalpert: why do I always find myself using way too many smiley faces whenever I talk with you online?

pambeesly: what can I say? I'm irresistible. :-*

jimhalpert: you speak the truth. :-)

jimhalpert: So...I was thinking about Saturday. There's this free jazz concert at nay aug park, thought maybe we could go. Even if the band sucks, it could be fun. I could be persuaded to buy you a strawberry shortcake ice cream bar from the mister softee truck.

Pam loved that now it was just accepted as fact that they'd be spending their weekends together. And while they both enjoyed just hanging out at home, Jim had taken Pam out on more dates in the past month than Roy had taken her on in the last two years of their relationship. They tried new restaurants – some with success (the Indian place by the middle school in Dunmore was now one of their favorites). Others, though, were disaster stories (Jim found a fingernail in his baked ziti at Pizza by Alfredo). But Pam was truly enjoying exploring her hometown – and doing it with Jim made it all the more better.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when her IM window started flashing orange.

jimhalpert: Earth to Pam...come in, Pam!

jimhalpert: if you don't like jazz, we could always ask Dwight to give us a private concert on his recorder. I'm sure he'd be up for it.

pambeesly: Hey, sorry, spaced out there for a sec. The jazz concert sounds great. Let's save the private recorder concert for a special occasion.

pambeesly: like when the Phillies win the world series. :-P

jimhalpert: ouch, low blow. :'(

jimhalpert: but I am holding you to that!

pambeesly: haha it's a deal :-)

As she rolled her eyes at the thought of Dwight playing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" on his neon green recorder, Pam glanced over at her desk calendar. A swift jolt of panic buzzed through her when she saw the note written in Saturday's box. How could she have forgotten? She swallowed and wracked her brain to come up with something to tell Jim.

pambeesly: hey, just remembered that I actually have plans on saturday. This thing with my mom. I totally forgot about it. Can we do the concert another time?

jimhalpert: oh, yeah, absolutely. what are you and your mom up to?

Pam's hands grew clammy and her mouth suddenly felt dry. She had to come up with something. There was no way that Jim was ever going to find out what she was really up to. There was just no way. She didn't want to lie...but it was just so stupid.

pambeesly: um, it's nothing, really

pambeesly: just some mother-daughter bonding time. we've had it planned for weeks, actually.

jimhalpert: well that should be fun

jimhalpert: listen, I have to go make some calls. this paper doesn't sell itself

Oh, crap, Pam thought. He's mad.

pambeesly: are you okay? please don't be mad. my mom and I planned this weekend like a LONG time ago. when you were dating another girl...

jimhalpert: no, I know. not mad. just a little disappointed. I guess I can't have you completely to myself all the time, huh? :-)

pambeesly: Awww. :-*

pambeesly: Just remember, longing makes the heart grow fonder...

jimhalpert: oh, believe me, I know all there is to know about longing when it comes to you and me.

jimhalpert: I could write the freaking book!

pambeesly: If you did, I'd read it!

pambeesly: O:-)

Pam looked up and flashed her most angelic smile in Jim's direction.

jimhalpert: what did we say about the angel face?!

pambeesly: you will just have to punish me later! =-O

pambeesly: I can't believe I just typed that

jimhalpert: I can't believe you did either... :-)

pambeesly: you are corrupting me, Jim.

jimhalpert: and I love it :-P

jimhalpert: I really am going to go make some calls now, though

pambeesly: okay, knock 'em dead!

Pam minimized the instant messenger window and let out a quiet, relieved sigh. She was so thankful she didn't have to tell Jim the dirty details of what she and her mom would be doing this weekend. While Pam cherished getting closer with Jim, there were some things that he just didn't need to know. Ever.

The rest of the morning went by pretty quickly – quite the rarity at Dunder Mifflin. Pam could hear that Jim's calls were going well, and that made her happy. She had placed the weekly supply order, read an article on People.com about Britney Spears' most recent woes, checked the status of Michael's eBay purchase three times, and put together fifty Dunder Mifflin information packets before her instant messenger window flashed yet again.

jimhalpert: lunch. break room. now!

pambeesly: yes, sir!

Pam practically jumped out of her chair as Jim strode towards the kitchen to grab their lunches. She went to the break room, bought their sodas, and sat down at their usual table.

"The house salad and the mixed berry yogurt for the lady," Jim said as he handed Pam her brown bag.

"Why, thank you. Do you have any freshly ground pepper?" Pam asked with a giggle.

"Oh, shoot. You know, we're all out." Jim said, smiling as he joined her at the table.

"Well, there goes your tip." They grinned at each other until Pam either had to look away or kiss him. Since they were at work, Pam quickly found herself grinning like an idiot into her salad.

As Jim took out his sandwich, he bumped shoulders with Pam. "So, what exactly are you doing tomorrow with your mom? Are you going to a Star Trek convention or something? Is there something you need to tell me, Pam?" Jim's expression was light and teasing, but Pam knew that he genuinely wanted to know what her plans were.

Damn. She should have known that he wouldn't have simply accepted her lame excuse. Pam speared a cherry tomato with her fork as she pondered her response.

"It's...it's nothing. I, I don't...want to talk about it," she finally spat out.

"Seriously? That's all I get?" Jim responded playfully. Pam gave him a look that she hoped conveyed that she was all business. "Oh, I know, you're taking your mom to go meet your other boyfriend."

"It's just really dorky." Pam said quietly.

"That's okay. I already knew you were a dork before we started dating." Jim said with a smile, giving Pam an affectionate poke in her side. Pam weighed her options. She could tell Jim the truth, and risk complete and utter humiliation. Or, she could keep trying to stall and have Jim keep bugging her. She twisted her mouth in thought.

"You have to promise not to laugh," she said, finally.

Jim's eyes grew wider and brighter with the promise of learning Pam's secret plans.

"I mean it, Jim. If I hear even so much as a chuckle, you're gonna wish you were never born."

"Okay, okay. No laughter allowed."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Pam cleared her throat, inhaled a deep breath, and spat out the sentence like she was reading the disclaimers on a radio ad.

"MymomandIaregoingtotheDancingwiththeStarstour."

"Whoa. Slow down, and enunciate, please."

Pam shot Jim a pleading look. "Okay, okay. My mom and I have tickets to the Dancing with the Stars tour. Are you happy now? Is that a smirk I see?"

Jim was clearly amused by Pam's discomfort. His eyes were wide with excitement, his hand covering his mouth. Pam could tell he was just dying to crack a joke.

"No, no smirking here. I didn't know you liked, uh, Dancing with the Stars," Jim said, choking back a chuckle.

"See! I knew you would make fun of me."

"I was not making fun of you! I had something caught in my throat."

"Oh, yeah right." Pam said. She should have felt better now that she told Jim the truth, but she still felt like there was a huge, blinking neon sign over her head that read "dork." But, Pam knew that if they were really going to make this work, Jim had to realize that his new girlfriend never sat at the cool table. Not once in her entire life. But, man, this honesty stuff...well, it wasn't easy. She took another deep breath.

"My mom wouldn't stop talking about the show, so I just started watching. It's kinda fun. And we would call each other and talk about our favorite contestants. I just, you know, didn't have a lot going on this past year. I was a little lonely, sometimes." Pam glanced over at Jim, expecting to see him still fighting back laughter. But instead, Jim's expression had morphed from joking to serious, his brow furrowed, his eyes full.

"I, uh, we haven't really, you know, talked much about what it was like before."

"I know," Pam said quietly. "It sucked."

"That it did." Jim said with a weak smile. "I don't want you to think..."

"Paaaaaam!" Michael wailed, interrupting from the break room doorway. God, that man had the worst timing in the world. Both comedic and otherwise. Pam shot Jim an apologetic look.

"Yes, Michael?"

"I need you to get back to the reception desk. I have to go meet Jan for a little afternoon delight – er, lunch." Jim and Pam both looked at Michael with raised eyebrows. "Lunch, we're just having lunch. God. Anywho, according to FedEx.com, my poster will be arriving at 12:37 p.m., so you need to be there to sign for it."

"Michael, I think Dwight can sign for your package."

"I don't want Dwight anywhere near my package!" Michael exclaimed with a chortle that was met with matching blank stares from Jim and Pam. "Uh, anyways, Dwight left early to take his cousin Moses to the doctor. He might have the Avian Bird Flu...or something, I don't know, that guy's an idiot. Pam, I just need you to go sit up at the desk." Michael said as he walked towards the table and gestured for Pam to come with him.

"What about Phyllis...or Kevin?" Pam asked, pleadingly.

"No, Pam! Kevin...he doesn't even know how to write. Come on, there's no time!"

Pam sighed and gathered up her food. She knew when Michael wouldn't take no for an answer. She tried to convey "We'll talk later," in a look to Jim, but wasn't sure how successful her effort was. He smiled softly back at her, but as she left the break room, Pam looked over her shoulder and saw Jim sitting at the table, absently picking at his sandwich, with an unsettlingly pensive look in his eyes.

Pam plopped down in her chair and frowned, wondering how a day that started out so bright ended up being so...awkward. She was trying, she really was. But the whole honesty thing was a constant struggle. If life had a rewind button, she'd tell Michael to go screw himself. She'd go back to the break room and tell Jim that she doesn't care about how they hurt each other in the past. That she's so beyond happy that they're finally, gloriously together now. That she's in love with him. It's just that she worries, sometimes, that maybe he'll wake up one day and realize that the fantasy was better than the reality. That he wanted to be with someone who instead of watching cheesy reality TV shows, knew all about the latest indie rock bands. That sometimes she still subscribed to the theory that kept her afloat for all those years when she pretended that Jim was nothing but her best friend - that there just could be no way that someone as wonderful as Jim could love someone so average, like her.

Lost in her thoughts, Pam looked up from her desk and saw Jim heading back from the break room - head down, hands jammed in his pockets. She hadn't seen this version of Jim in a long time, since before that day when he changed everything and asked her if she was free for dinner. Were they really having their first fight? About Dancing with the Stars? This was seriously happening?

Pam sat at her desk, casting brief, nervous glances in Jim's direction. But he was studiously working away, clicking and typing like nothing was wrong. It only made her feel worse. All he had to do was look over and give her that smile that let her know everything was okay. She clicked on her e-mail, but her fingers froze over the keyboard. Maybe an IM would clear this weird, suddenly developed ice? She clicked on a new Instant Message. But seconds later, she clicked the X furiously and went back to her e-mail.

Pam was on round three of her improvised game of computer ping pong when she heard Jim clear his throat. She looked up to see him standing at the reception desk. They stared at each other for just a moment too long, Pam trying to convey in her expression all the words that she couldn't bring herself to say. Jim cleared his throat one more time and attempted to twist his lips into a smile. Instead, it looked more like he was working on his pirate imitation.

"Hey. I have to go to Stroudsburg for a sales call," he said in a low voice. "Probably won't be back until after work. I'll give you a call, though."

"Oh, okay," Pam said. A made-up sales call? He really needed to get away from her that badly? She nodded and bit the inside of her mouth in an effort to stop the tears she felt were already welling in her eyes. Pam watched Jim gather his things and she ached to get up out of her seat, throw her arms around him and bury her face in the crook of his neck. But they were at work, so instead, she stayed in her seat and gave him a weak smile when he said he'd see her later.

* * * * * * *

Pam spent the rest of the afternoon answering the phone four times and playing Sudoku, trying to distract herself from the tornado of doubts that were currently giving her quite the pounding headache. It didn't work.

The door opened, and – maybe Jim was back early? But it was just the FedEx guy. Pam sighed, but was slightly comforted by the fact that maybe Michael would get off her back now that his stupid poster was here. She signed her name on the electronic device and mumbled a quick thank you to the delivery man.

As she stared at the white mailing tube, Pam remembered Michael's enthusiasm for his latest ridiculous purchase. Michael Scott was many things, but he wasn't embarrassed by how he spent his free time.

"Is that my poster?" Michael said as he bounded out of his office.

"Yep. It just came."

"You know, Jan hated Two and a Half Men the first time we watched it together. Said the little kid gave her the creeps. Can you believe that?" Michael asked Pam as he opened up the mailing tube like he was an eight-year-old tearing into his presents on Christmas morning.

"No, uh, I can't believe that."

"I know. It's probably the best show on TV right now. That and The Singing Bee."

"Mmm," Pam replied as diplomatically as she could. But really, she was one to talk when it came to taste in TV shows.

"Eventually, I wore her down. We started a new tradition. Whenever she watches an episode with me, I promise to...go, uh, downtown...afterwards," Michael said with a salacious smile slapped on his face.

"Michael, I don't want to hear about that," Pam said as she turned back to her computer.

"Suit yourself, Pam. Just don't say that ol' Michael Scott doesn't know how to keep his girl happy."

Pam shot Michael the nastiest look she could muster and he thankfully headed back to his office. But as she propped her chin up with her hand, she knew that there was actually something she could stand to learn from Michael. And that thought was equally as disturbing as it was depressing.

* * * * * * *

Pam parked her car and trudged up her front walk like she was heading to her doom. Half of her wanted to make Jim a fancy dinner, apologize for avoiding their conversation earlier, have a schmoopy heart to heart talk which would undoubtedly lead to earth-shattering make up sex. The other half of her wanted to put on her ugly lavender PJs, watch Legally Blonde, and eat some Dublin Mudslide right out of the carton. She was deciding which option was in the lead when she put her key in the door.

When Pam opened the door, her mouth dropped open in surprise. There was Jim, wearing an ill-fitting tux and a dazzling grin, standing in her living room with a single red rose between his teeth. Sultry tango music played softly in the background and several candles completed the fantasy in front of her. Jim took the rose out of his mouth while Pam stood as still as a statue.

"May I have this dance?"

"What are you...didn't you have a sales call in Stroudsburg?"

"Well, no. I did go to Stroudsburg, though. To the Best Buy. To get this." He held up a DVD case – Dance with Len Goodman. Tears welled up in her eyes. "You have no idea how hard this was to find!" Jim laughed, then quickly grew serious. "I also stopped by my place. To get this." He put the DVD down on the coffee table and picked up a huge 4-inch blue binder.

"What?" This was all still a little too much to process for Pam.

"It's my Spiderman comic book collection. Part one. Of many," Jim said with a sheepish smile. "You are not the only dork in this relationship." Pam moved to sit on the couch and looked through the binder.

"Oh my god, they're all in plastic."

"I know. Listen, Pam, I am so sorry if I made you feel bad earlier." He was so earnest. Pam couldn't keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, too."

"What do you have to be sorry for?" he said with a laugh.

"I'm sorry I was so weird about this stuff. It's just embarrassing." She continued in a low voice, her eyes glued to her sensible shoes. "It's just sometimes I think that once you get to know the real me..."

He put his hands on her cheeks, brushing away the tears that had fallen with a gentle sweep of his thumbs. "That is one hundred percent not possible." Pam looked up and there he was, pressing his lips to hers in a sweet kiss. God, she had been waiting for that all day.

"I...I have wanted to be with you for so long," Jim said with a quiver in his voice. “I used to hate the weekends because I didn't get to see you. I used to imagine what it would be like...just hanging out with you, watching TV, cooking you breakfast, going shopping at the mall." Pam reached for his hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. She moved her fingers up and made lazy circles along the bare patch of skin where his wrist ended and the sleeve of his suit jacket began. "This," he said. "This..has been so far beyond...."

Pam reached for his other hand – she knew he was struggling to find the words to translate his emotions. But, this time, Pam knew exactly the right thing to say.

"I love you, Jim." He looked up, eyes wide and incredulous. She grinned back at him and squeezed his hands again, her heart nearly beating out of her chest.

"Pam.." he said, his voice dripping with awe. "I love you so much."

And then, they were done with words for a while.

* * * * * * *

They were splayed out on Pam's living room carpet, cuddled together and wrapped up in her favorite fuzzy, navy blue fleece blanket. Pam twirled the red rose against Jim's chest, tickling his chest hair and painting a picture of the two of them in her mind.

"God, I love you," Jim murmured as he nuzzled Pam's neck. "And I'm sure I could learn to love Dancing with the Stars." Pam erupted with laughter as she felt Jim's smile on her neck. She ran her hand down the side of his face. She had no reason to be nervous anymore, but a sliver of worry remained in her voice when she spoke.

"Do you want to come to dinner with me and my mom tomorrow night? Before the show?"

She watched with slightly bated breath as he smiled, closed his eyes, and leaned in to place a kiss on the bridge of her nose.

"I would love to."

"Really?"

"Really," he said, emphasizing his intention by adding a quick peck on her lips. "So, whaddaya say we try to master the naked tango?"

"Pretty sure that's not one of the dances they do on Dancing with the Stars," Pam responded with a playful roll of her eyes.

"It's only on the pay-per-view version."

Pam giggled, which led to a full-out laugh, which somehow led to Jim tickling her sides, which then brought on her ever-so-graceful snort. And you know what? She wasn't embarrassed one bit.