***

There's mistletoe under the doorway as she fumbles with the bags in her hand and pushes the door close with her foot and the help of her elbow. Pam leans against the door and stares at it, smiling.

"Oh, hey, you're home. So soon."

Pam watches as he struts across the room, his hands in his jeans, grinning casually. He stops in front of her and kisses her forehead softly, and if Pam didn't know him so well, she would have fell for it and leaned into him for more but her instincts were correct when he oh-so-slyly grabbed onto one of the bags, tugging at it slightly. "What's in heeeere?" He asks cheerfully.

Pam laughs and pushes him away, trying to get around him but isn't able to as he gently holds her against the door. "Let me through, you."

"Pam." He begins, a look of absolute seriousness on his face. "We are standing underneath mistletoe. Did you know that?"

"I saw that. Good one, by the way."

"I don't know what you're implying but I was just trying to put some tradition into this holiest event of ours."

"Christmas is ours?"

"No," Jim replies slowly as if he were talking to a five-year-old. He shook his head and leaned towards her. "But it is our first Christmas together being engaged." He kisses her once. "And it is.." Twice. "indeed.." Thrice. "pretty holy."

Pam laughs against his lips. "Nice try."

Jim backs away from her, laughing. "I don't understand why you won't tell me what you got me!"

She walks around him, shaking her head sadly. "You're worse than a kid."

"There's nothing you don't know about me, Pam."

"Same here, sweetie."

"Not true." He says, following her up the stairs. "Because I do not know what is in that bag."

"Did you miss the memo on how Christmas works? Do I need to explain it to you? Again?"

"What do I have to do? I'm not above sexual favors, by the way." He says, raising an eyebrow.

Pam snorts as she stops in the doorway to their room. "You're never above sexual favors, Jim. Stop pretending as if that's something new."

"But.."

She backs into the room and begins to close it. "Jim, if you even think about coming in here, not only will I return your gifts, but I just may not marry you."

"That's not even something to joke about."

"Shut up."

"I'm serious. That's like top five of things not to joke about."

She doesn't respond as she shuts the door in in his face, leaving Jim to stare at it, grumbling. "Dammit."

He leans his ear against the door, tapping on it softly. "Pam. Pamela. Pammy. Pamster. Paaaaaaaam. Pam Anderson. Pamie dot com. Pamela Morgan Beesly. Oooh. Pamela Morgan Beesly-Halpert. Have you decided if you're keeping your last name yet?"

Silence. Jim grins against the door, secretly pleased that his wife-to-be can hold her own so well. But honestly, it's one of the many reasons she is his wife-to-be.

"If you tell me, I'll tell you. Because your gift isn't that exciting anyway, so it might be best to know now how much it sucks."

Again, silence. Jim purses his lips and backs away from the door, staring at it. "Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam!" He yells suddenly.

Nothing. Moments later, he laughs as he hears the beginning of U2 and has to admire her restraint to either punch his face in or to give in. So he silently applauds her and turns away from the door, walking down the stairs.

She wins. For now.

***

It's an hour later and Jim's flipping through Sports Illustrated, silently plotting the ways he'll win the war, even if she has won the battle. Nine times out of ten, bothering his mother never worked either, so he'll do what he did as a kid when he wanted to find out what his gifts were.

He'd snoop. He knew this house like the back of his hand and there's no way she'd ever be able to hide anything that he couldn't find. Beauty of buying his parent's house. Hee. Besides, it helps that he was also a black belt in gift wrapping, so. Yeah. Re-wrapping them would take .2 seconds flat. And not to mention that he had the "Gasp! Just what I wanted!" act down pact. So. Yeah. Just a matter of time.

He hears Pam moving down the stairs and he moves his head to look at her as she sits down beside him. "Are you done already? Wow."

"Are you done acting crazy?"

"I really like your playlist. Following U2 with The Police is really clever of you."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I also think I should tell you that it'd be utterly pointless of you to snoop for your gifts. Just, fyi."

Shit. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your mom warned me that you'd always find them in her bedroom which is why they're hidden somewhere else. A secret hiding place, if you will."

Jim fights his grin and shrugs his shoulders, turning back to his magazine. "That's cool, whatever."

"The 12-year-old in you that's pissed because he was never surprised thanks you for it."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." Pam sighs. "But because I've never seen this adorably side of you that hates surprises and lacks patience this time of year and because it amuses me so, I've decided to give you an early present."

Pam can't help but laugh as Jim's eyes practically bulge out of his head and he literally bounces in his seat, tossing the magazine to the floor. He claps his hands softly and turns to face her, giving her his complete and undivided attention.

"Wow." Pam says, a little perplexed at the amount she loves this ridiculous fool. "How pissed would you be if I said I were joking?"

"Top five, Pam." He warns, semi-serious. "Top five."

She giggles. "Okay. But I have to tell you that it's a little gift for the both of us so you can't like, be greedy and hog it to yourself."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. What is it?"

She hands him the box and he practically snatches it out of her hand and latches into it and Pam sees a little of the 5-year-old he was at birthdays and Christmases and she falls a little more in love with him because well, it's adorable. She can't help it.

Pam takes a deep breath as he opens the box and watches closely as he stares at it, not moving an inch and it seems like hours have passed before he slowly lifts his head to look at her.

She'll remember the look on his face for as long as she lives.

"I know it's a little weird that I wrapped it," she says softly. "but I wanted you to suffer a little."

Jim opens his mouth to reply but it's suddenly dry and he shakes his head because it's weird to go from joking and giddy and happy to all serious and shocked and just.. wow.

"Seriously?" He asks, his voice raspy as he clears his throat.

Her eyes are glistening and she's smiling and she nods her head slowly. "Your gifts weren't the only shopping I had to do."

Pam looks at him and watches as he blinks furiously and she laughs and he looks at her and smirks a little as if to say really? and he sets the box on the table and moves to her. He grabs the back of her head and pulls her to him, kissing her soundly.

Jim kisses her once more before he hugs her, encircling his arms tightly around her waist. He breathes her in-- her strawberry shampoo and vanilla body mist-- and sighs into her hair. "Best gift ever," he whispers.

Pam bites her lip and closes her eyes and tells herself to stop crying. She squeezes him softly and backs away so she can look at him. "Yeah?"

His eyes soften and he kisses her nose. "Yeah."

There's a box on the table that holds a stick with two lines and a year from now, there will be another stocking on the mantle.

***