VII. Sky 

Pam's laughter settled into an easy, comfortable silence. Still holding Jim's hand, she soon tilted her head and stared quietly out the window. The sun was setting quickly over Scranton, and Jim knew that she appreciated the vivid colors of the sunset even more than he did, with her artist's eye.

She soon confirmed that's what she was thinking about. "Look at that sky," she said softly, more to herself than to him.

"I'd rather watch you looking at it," Jim replied. He knew it embarrassed her when he said cheesy, romantic things like that, so he made a habit of doing so as often as possible. He loved the ways she blushed and laughed and rolled her eyes, trying to hide her pleasure at being appreciated. She did exactly that now, squirming in her seat and squinching up her nose at him. He loved teasing her, making her laugh, just enjoying being silly together. "I suppose you're going to tell me that the sky reminded you of me, now, too?" he continued.

Pam nodded. "Of course it did."

Jim nodded back at her. "I assume it was some sort of 'Fivel' thing, knowing we were underneath the same big sky?" He was struggling to keep his tone perfectly serious, his expression perfectly composed.

"Wow, it's like you're reading my mind," Pam replied with the same carefully matter-of-fact tone.

"I know you, Pam. You're an open book."

"Hmm, apparently so." Pam leaned over and nudged his arm gently with her shoulder, and he finally allowed himself to chuckle.

The easy silence resumed, Pam gazing rapt as the sky darkened while Jim watched the road, occasionally stealing glances at her. It was one of those moments that his feelings for her flooded up within him- the moments that led to him kissing her unexpectedly in the middle of the office, or sending her flowers for no apparent reason. He didn't know what came over him, why the high-tide of happiness that he was maintaining would sometimes overflow, but he knew that it was often in quiet, reflective moments when he could truly appreciate what he had now in contrast to his misery just a year before.

One of those moments came over him as Pam watched the sunset, and he started talking without any advanced thought of what he would say. "The sky used to remind me of you all the time, you know. Blue skies with fluffy clouds reminded me of the time you told me about pretending the clouds were sheep and you were Bo Peep. Cloudy skies were depressing, and when I felt depressed was when I thought about you the most, and how much I missed you. Night skies...well, clear nights made me remember the sky over the lake the night you and Roy got re-engaged on that boat. And cloudy nights reminded me of the parking lot when I put my foot in my mouth with the worst-timed confession of love ever. I actually tried really hard not to think about us being under the same sky. It hurt too much." Jim had kept his eyes resolutely on the road as all of this came tumbling out. He finished with a deep breath and looked briefly over at Pam.

She was no longer staring out the window, but instead regarding him with big, serious eyes. She squeezed his hand tighter and raised it to her lips. "I love you," she said simply against his skin.