Disclaimer:  I still don't own the Office or these characters, no copyright infringement intended.

Pam sat at her desk, casually watching Jim out of the corner of her eye.  So far, since her discussion with Dwight in the kitchen, Jim had left his desk once to go to the copier, once to get a grape soda, and once to eat lunch.  All three times, she had not been able to distract him long enough to get into his desk and find the card. 

She watched the second hand sweep quickly around the dial, the clock seeming to mock her with every tick, reminding her that she only had a few more hours before they would all be leaving the office for Christmas.  Pam took in a deep breath and held it until her lungs started to hurt, letting the air out slowly, trying to relax a little.  The office was closed for two days starting tomorrow and she had planned to take the rest of the week off, a decision she was very grateful for now that she and Roy had broken up.  If she didn’t get to the card today, it would be a week before she would have another chance. 

She noticed a blur of movement in her peripheral vision and tilted her head up to watch as Jim turned towards her and smirked, ever so slightly.  Her stomach twisted back into the now recognizable nervous flutters. The sudden shift for her was so strange; Friday more or less just friends, today simply more albeit an undefined more.  Oddly enough, now that she had allowed herself to think it, to revel a little in the excitement and warmth that rose within her each time he turned her way, she couldn’t imagine a time when she didn’t openly feel it.  Like the butterflies in her stomach were rewriting every memory she had of him to include all the intense emotions swirling around her now.

She took out a pad of paper and started to doodle.  It was an old habit that when she needed to think, she would draw.  On napkins, in notebooks, in her old wedding planner.  She cringed at the thought of that old pathetic wedding planner, full of nervous doodles of hearts and question marks. 

Today, she drew Christmas presents, and trees, and teapots.  She didn’t know why she couldn’t just ask Jim about the card, but she couldn’t bear to push him.  What if she had misread this whole thing?  Their conversation in the break room was confusing, but it left little doubt in her mind that he felt something for her, something more than friendship.  The look in his eyes as they talked was so vulnerable, his eyes becoming an even deeper shade of hazel as he reached for her hand.    She shook her head and focused on her drawing, realizing that that line of thought would get her in trouble really fast.

***ho*ho*ho***

Jim tried to focus on the paperwork for the sale he closed last Friday, but he could practically feel Pam’s eyes on him and it was, to say the least, distracting.  He had not recovered from this morning’s developments and had been keeping his distance from her so that he could try to figure out what to do next.  The conversation from the break room rolled around in his head like little echoes of a dream you aren’t quite sure you actually had. 

He could never be sure that he could trust his senses when it came to Pam, but this morning it seemed like she was trying to tell him something, tell him how she felt perhaps.  The way she looked at him, the way she had touched his arm; he was certain that she knew how he felt and he thought that maybe she was telling him she felt the same. 

Running his fingers through his hair, he opened his drawer to retrieve a pencil, his fingers catching the corner of the Christmas card.  His eyes reflexively darted to the reception desk, feeling suddenly exposed, like she knew that the card existed.  Of course, that was ridiculous, she couldn’t know.  He picked up his pencil and shut the drawer a little more forcefully than necessary.  Had he known that she was going to break up with Roy, he would have left the card in the box.  Just his luck that once he got up the courage to write it, it didn’t seem right to give it to her; and now, it seemed too soon. 

He looked up at her, her checks slightly flushed, her hair pulled back a little more hastily than usual.  To him she simply looked beautiful.  He tapped the pencil against his chin; maybe once this all cooled down a little, he could give her the card.  Maybe, when she got back from Christmas, or was that too fast?   Of course she probably needed more time.  More time…more time…he felt like they’d already wasted so much time.  He felt a need to run over and give her the card now, or take her to the roof and tell her in whatever words he could actually get out how he felt.  No…no…he had to wait.  Jim scratched the pencil sharply over the legal pad he was writing on and realized, as his eyes came back into focus, he had only written one thing, “When?”

***ho*ho*ho***

“Alright mi Amigos, it is magic time.”  Michael bellowed as he pushed his way out of his office door, bundled in his heavy coat and trying to carry a large cardboard box.  He walked up to Pam’s counter and sat the box down, turning to face the office.  “Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, Happy Kwanza, Happy Gay Man’s Holiday, whatever.”  Michael smiled widely and clapped his hands together ceremoniously.  Everyone stared blankly at him, unimpressed, except for Dwight who beamed back at him like he was Santa Claus himself. 

Seeing that he was not exactly inspiring anyone, Michael dropped his arms in defeat and turned to Pam, “Pamster, Merry Christmas.  Hope you have a nice one.  You and Roy sticking around the southern part of the North Pole?”  Pam gazed at him, the confusion all over her face.  “Scranton, Pam, are you guys hanging out around here?”

“Um, no…I’m…”  Pam was not ready to discuss this with Michael.  She looked at Jim helplessly, almost hoping he would tell her what to say.  Jim could read the panic on her face and he practically jumped out of his chair.  Maybe he couldn’t tell her how he felt, but he could save her from Michael.

“Michael, what is in this box?”  Jim thumped his fingers on the large cardboard box, drawing Michael’s attention away from Pam.

“It’s a gallon of Floam.” Jim crooked an eyebrow at Pam as she cringed at the very idea of opening an industrial sized tub of Floam in front of family.  Of course, she and Jim could put that to good use in pranking Dwight.  Maybe make his bobblehead a girlfriend. 

“Oh, interesting.”

“Yeah, it’s for my aunt Millicent…Millie…Millstone…the Millster…she’s a sculptor, I thought it could come in handy.  I love to support the arts.”

Pam watched as Michael gathered up the box and she felt like Jim had literally pulled her out of the fire.  She watched Jim try to seem interested in Michael’s idea of a magical gift and for just a moment he held her gaze, flashing his trademark goofy smile.  She readily let the flutters swell in her chest, no longer trying to push down the feelings of affection.  He turned back to look seriously at Michael, “Truly that is…fascinating…I’m sure that your aunt will really think that’s …..something.”

“Indeed she will Jim Beam.”

Pam reluctantly pulled her attention away from Jim to smile at her boss, “Merry Christmas.  Heading out I guess?”

“Yeppers, long drive home.”

“Michael, you just live across town.”

He turned back to her and sighed, “I hate the office before Christmas, so boring.  If corporate calls, tell them I had a sales appointment.”  He started to head for the door, pausing for moment, “Remember Pam I Am, he knows if you are naughty or nice,” he called over his shoulder.

Pam giggled as she turned to face Jim.  “Thank you. I was not ready for that.”

Jim leaned against her counter trying to get as close to her as he could in an inconspicuous way, “No, it’s cool, Beesly.”  He felt the strange sensation to reach out and touch her.  It wasn’t that the urge was new, but the fact that he felt like maybe she wouldn’t run away if he did was a completely new sensation.  “So….”  Every word seemed to leave his head as a wave of awkwardness rushed over him.  “Are you driving up to your mom’s tonight?”

“Yeah, after work.”

“That’ll be nice.”  Jim felt like he was 12, in fact he was almost certain he had been about this graceful asking Susan Gibbs to the 8th grade winter dance.  “I’m heading up to my parents too; I’ll probably head out in a few minutes.”  He awkwardly gestured behind him.  He wasn’t sure what he wanted, what he expected from her.  But he knew that he was truly dreading his days off from work without her, especially now.  If he just kept talking, he would have to stay.  “Traffic could be a nightmare.  I think it’s probably best to get ahead of all the people heading east.”  Jim felt like he was having an out of body experience, he wanted to tell her everything and he was talking about traffic.

“Yeah, me too…I don’t want to get caught in, you know…um…”  Her mind wandered, thinking of all the things she wanted to say, all the questions she wanted to ask.  She also began to realize that after ten years, she really didn’t know how to flirt anymore, especially not with Jim.  Course maybe she’d been flirting all along…had she?

“Traffic?”

Pam stared at him, smiling widely and feeling her cheeks start to burn with embarrassment, “Yeah, traffic, sorry my mind went blank for a …second.”

Jim squinted as if he were trying to see inside her head.  She really was acting so fidgety, was he making her nervous?  His skin practically burned at the idea that he was having an effect on her.  But then again, maybe it was just because she had had a rough a few days.  Tilting his head to the side, he lowered his voice, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah…sorry…must be coming down with something, I feel a little fuzzy, or something.”  She bit her lip in frustration.  She just wanted to crawl in a hole.  She would have stop by the bookstore for a “how to flirt with your best friend that you may love” book.

“Well you should take a lesson from Jim Halpert and leave early.”  Jim started to back away to pack up his things and head out.  It seemed like they both needed to breathe a moment, before their relationship got infinitely more complicated.  He knew that tonight he’d rehash this whole conversation, just like he always did.  But he had to admit that today he had more subtle clues than ever to agonize over.  He’d need to stop and get beer on the way to his parent’s house.  This would be a long night.

“Okay, well, …Merry Christmas, Jim.” 

“You too, Pam.”  He wanted to tell her to call if she needed him; would that be weird?  Too much?  Too soon?  He settled for drumming his hands on her desk and trying to make a casual exit.  

***ho*ho*ho***

Pam waited out all the other members of the office, wishing each one a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year as they shuffled out the door.  Dwight and Angela were the last the leave.  She had been organizing files for twenty minutes, waiting for them to pack up, but they seemed in no great hurry.  She almost wanted to stand up and just announce that she knew all about it and they should just leave and be stern and severe together.  Finally, with a frustrated sigh from Angela and a curt “goodnight” from Dwight, she was alone.

Pam wandered through the office turning out lights and shutting down the coffee machine, pretending that she didn’t stay just to look in Jim’s desk.  She looked at their haphazard tree for a few minutes, thinking how if this tree had ever had a heyday, it was today.  All Christmas trees, even this one, were magical on Christmas Eve.  Day after tomorrow, Kevin would be shoving it back in the box it doesn’t quite fit in, muttering and cursing to himself the whole time.

She slid down in Jim’s chair, feeling warm from the proximity to his things, his personal space.  She ran her fingers over his keyboard, his desk, his phone.  Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the side drawer and looked through its contents.  Rubber band ball just started, pens with the ends chewed on, post it notes, a paper clip chain, a coupon for pizza, a white envelope.  Carefully she pulled the envelope out; scrawled on the front, in Jim’s sloppy cursive, was her name.  Her Card. 

She stared at it for what felt like forever.  What if it wasn’t what she thought?  What if it was?  Both scenarios were terrifying. 

She ran her finger under the sealed edge, but stopped short of actually opening it.  Instead, she played with the flap, nervously, her mind going a million miles an hour.  All the answers, or at least some of the answers, were right here.  It she would just take them.  Take the answers.  From Jim. 

She thought about him pouring his heart out to this little card and sealing it all up for her eyes only.  Only now, for whatever reason, he didn’t want her to read it.  Her mouth suddenly went dry; was she really going to take this from him?  Steal his love from the top drawer of his desk when no one was looking?

She sat the card on the keyboard and stared at it, resting her chin on the desk.  She desperately wanted to just rip it open; it was all she’d thought about all day.  But the smallest tug at her heart was screaming at her that this was wrong.  If he was brave enough to allow himself to admit how he felt, how could she risk hurting him by taking that from him?  Feeling suddenly fiercely protective of Jim’s feelings, she slid the card back into its spot. 

Putting her head down on his desk, she felt her heart race with fear and anxiety.  She couldn’t take another day like today, balancing on the edge, wondering if she could hide it all anymore, wondering why she couldn’t see it – why he couldn’t see it, or was she misinterpreting it all.  Flinging herself up out of his chair, she raced to gather up her things.  She couldn’t ask him, she couldn’t read the note.  Was she really such a coward?  Why couldn’t she just have said something before he left?  Maybe they’d be on the way to share a coffee or just go somewhere together.  Anywhere, she wouldn’t care, she just couldn’t stand leaving and heading back so far away from him without doing something. 

She picked up her things and gave one last longing look to her teapot, the gift that started this whole mess.  She hadn’t even bought him a present, just wished him Merry Christmas.  Her stomach dropped as a thought crossed her mind.  She whipped around her desk and dug in her personal drawer.  “I need a card.”  She muttered to the silence of the office.  Coming up with nothing more than the realization that she had to clean out her desk, she glared at the clock that mocked her yet again revealing that it was almost 6, she’d never get to an actual card store at this hour. 

Heading to the office supply shelf, she picked up a sheet of Dunder Mifflin Snow White card stock and went back to her bag to dig for pencils.  She kept a few colored pencils rubber banded together in her bag for doodling purposes.  She had bought them earlier in the year as a way to feel more like an artist, but so far she’d only really used them during some of Michael’s more boring speeches. 

She folded the paper in half and then sat very still for a moment, racking her brain for the perfect front to the card.  Dwight in his elf hat?  Michael and his Floam?  Phyllis’s oven mitt?  She focused on the front cover and it stared back at her blank, empty, but full of promise.  Taking an even and calm breath to steady her hand, she started to sketch, lightly at first, using her green pencil.  She used long sweeping strokes and then shorter ones to let the little teapot on the page take shape.  She carefully sketched the top next to it.  She put a few small things peaking out of the inside and then drew a little trail of mementos overflowing to fill the space all around teapot, the effect being that it seemed to float in a sea of her memories of him. 

It was easy to think of what to put in her “teapot”.  She had a shoebox at home of tickets and notes, but she also had a host of memories of him that were so special to her, especially now that she knew how she felt.  She sketched a small dundie to the left of the teapot and draped a little yogurt lid medal from the handle.  Peeking from the inside of the teapot was a matchbook with Cugino’s familiar logo and an index card with the word Jewish across it, with a little stick figure handing a Michael stick figure a lawsuit – Jim drew that on her card to make her laugh.  She put a brightly colored bouncy ball in front, the one that Jim bought her on his lunch break one day so that they could go outside for a few minutes and enjoy a beautiful spring day.  She put a stapler in Jello with a little angry Dwight with his hands placed menacingly on his hips.  And lastly, a bag of French Onion Sun Chips and a can of grape soda, nestled together in the corner. 

Feeling like the cover would do, though it was far from perfect, she opened the card to write her note on the inside.  Glancing at the clock again, she wished she could freeze time - it was nearly seven.  Her family would be expecting her and she needed to hurry, but she was writing a message that had to be right, demanded time and effort.  Her mom would understand.

She fished in her pen cup for a nice pen, not ball point, not felt, but gel ink.  She shuddered to think that she was going to write in ink, but there was no taking this back.  She would not write this out and then erase it, change it, make it less honest, take another cowardly step back.  She closed her eyes and focused on what she wanted, what she was feeling, and then with a sharp exhale, she started to write in her own loopy and uneven script. 

Jim, 

I realized after you left today that I didn’t give you a present this year and, since the stores were all closing, I decided to make you a card (hope you don’t mind).  So Merry belated Christmas!  Don’t kill Dwight while I’m gone, I have a good idea about how to prank him with some Floam -  thanks to Michael.  Actually, I kind of like how this card turned out because it gave me a chance to give to you all the special memories that I have of our friendship – I’m giving you a quiz when I get back to be sure you know what everything on the front means.   

“So far so good,” she thought as her stomach started to twist, knowing that she was getting to the part where she was going to have to put it all on the line. 

 Jim, I want you to know how much you mean to me – you are my best friend.   

She grimaced at the word friend but continued on.

Well, you’re more than that really.  You are the reason that I can work here, the reason I don’t kill Michael or Dwight, a lot of days you’re the reason I get up in the morning.  I know that sounds strange and maybe a little desperate, but it’s true.  I’ve realized a few things in the last couple of days and I don’t think that I can hide all this from you much longer.  I don’t want to. 

I’m not sure that I’m ready for everything that I’m feeling, but I do know that I’ve been feeling this for longer than I’ve been willing to admit to myself.  I hope you know what I’m trying to say – it’s just that I think I’m in love with you. 

I hope I didn’t just scare you and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable saying this but I really needed to tell you. If I didn’t, I would always wonder what we were missing out on.    

I don’t want to ruin our friendship and if you don’t feel the same just forget I ever said anything.  Regardless, you mean so much to me and I hope you have a wonderful Christmas. 

Love, 

Pam 

She felt like crying, or laughing, she wasn’t sure which.  She was certain that she was terrified; the air in the office seemed to be getting thin and she desperately needed to feel the cold winter air on her skin.  She put the note in a Dunder Mifflin envelope, addressed it on the front, “To: Jim, From: Pam”, and slid it into his drawer where she was sure he wouldn’t miss it.  Gathering up her things, she reached in her purse to call her family and tell them that she was finally on the way.