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Author's Chapter Notes:

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of anything owned by NBC or "The Office".

The first time we had kissed, really kissed, was in the space where we work and spend eight hours a day. It smells of office supplies, and computers; like floor cleaner and coffee. That night, the office had been dark, except for a few glowing desk lamps and the blue haze of my computer monitor. You'd been glowing, too, and not just from the way the dim light bounced off your iridescent dress.

The second time we kiss, the atmosphere is much the same: dark, quiet, familiar-smelling office, alive here and there with little lights and blue screensavers:

I come in long after the cleaning crew had left for the night. I'd forgotten my iPod in my desk drawer, and there are some songs I need to add to it before tomorrow. This one song, I've wanted to play for you forever, since right after I'd left for Stamford. It's the musical embodiment of you, but I haven't decided if I'll share that fact with you yet.

As I walk into the office, I decide not to turn on the harsh overhead lights. I can see fine in the dim light thrown by computer monitors, the tiny lights from power strips underneath desks, the display screen on the copier. And to tell you the truth, I kind of want to re-live the mood of that moment when I'd first kissed you in that dim office a lifetime ago. Being here at the scene of the crime, in the same setting with the lights off and the silence that is never experienced during normal working hours colors my memories more vividly than ever. So when I see you there at my desk- my new desk where I now have to sit with my back to you every day- I think that I've conjured you up.

You sit in my chair with your back towards me, earbuds in your ears, and you are drawing. My desk is only lit up by a blue glow, but I look over your shoulder and see your delicate hand holding a thin pencil that moves gracefully over a small, folded piece of card-stock. At first, I can't quite make out what you are drawing. But then I realize it's us from that night that I remember with so much fondness and pain all at the same time; when we'd embraced with so much love, but ended the moment with so much sadness.

In the drawing, there's my old desk with all my little desk things- my lamp, picture frame, computer. And there we are, the two of us, leaning against it in such a perfect embrace that I can practically feel you in my arms again.

I have to look away for a moment, compose myself, and that's when I notice that you are listening to an iPod- my iPod. Yours is a non-iPod that Roy had given you for Christmas. But at this moment, you are sitting there in the twilight-lit office, at my desk, listening to my music, drawing one of our most emotion-filled moments we'd ever experienced together- making it tangible; a beautiful piece of art, and I'm overwhelmed. You become blurry through the layer of tears in my eyes. The office looks like a dark city through a rain-drenched windshield as all of the small lights scattered around the office become wavy and abstract.

I move forward to lean back on my desk, facing you. You jump, and I almost laugh at the way you pull the earbuds from your ears, and raise your hand to attack me before you realize who I am. Despite the lack of light, I see you blush as you quickly cover up your drawing with both hands, apologizing for using up the battery in my iPod.

I just sit there, my head tilted to the side, and ask what you were drawing, and then you flick your eyes away from mine quickly, and simply say that you're drawing a Valentine's Day card for a friend. You hesitate and give me a subtle look when you say 'friend'. You say that your house has the wrong mood tonight for drawing, and that you'd come here, and the lights had been off and you didn't want to turn them back on and use up electricity, and that your computer had been off but mine wasn't so you'd just sat down at my desk to use the light of my monitor to draw by, and then realized that you hadn't brought your non-iPod with you for music, so you'd decided to check if mine was still in my desk, and it was.

I can't help but smile at your ramble, and reach out and grasp your arm, sliding my hand down until my fingers are gliding against the soft skin at the inside of your wrist, and the words die on your lips, and you stop breathing, and your eyes are huge, bright, and unguarded.

All I have to do is give your hand a little tug and you are standing up and in my arms and all I can hear is the sound of my heart in my ears, and your fingers on my scalp, and we are kissing, this time with me leaning against my desk, and you leaning into me, and it feels like falling, but safely, like our landing would be soft and perfect. And I'm not afraid at all this time, just happy and so, so in love. You make some quiet sounds in your throat that drive me crazy and bring tears to my eyes at the same time because I know it's real. Not just real, as in it-exists real, but real as in you-love-me-too real.

And when you pull away, you're smiling, and your eyes are shining, and you lean over me just a bit to pick up the turned-over drawing on my desk, and you look at me and say, "Happy Valentine's Day, Jim", even though it's only the beginning of February. You hold the card out to me- the card with the drawing of our first real kiss on it- and I take it and stare at it forever until my eyes start to get blurry again, and you reach up and open it to show me the inside, where you'd already written the note:

Jim,
I've loved you forever
Love, Pam

And I know my chin starts trembling right there in front of you, and a tear slips from my eye, and I feel so embarrassed, but I'm so overwhelmed. You just wrap your arms around me until I whisper that I'll always love you, too. And all the little green and blue LED's around the dark office look like fireflies around us through my tears.



PuffingNoise is the author of 41 other stories.
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