The last day of the year, and Jim was sitting at his desk, pretending he had something to do. Who was he supposed to call for paper orders on New Year's Eve? He had been tempted to call in sick today, and now he was wondering why he hadn't. They only had to work until noon today, but it was still ten o'clock and it looked like the last two hours were going to painfully tick by.

He received an email from Pam: Stop by my desk when you get a free moment.

He had to laugh - did she really think he was so bogged down with work? He walked over to her desk immediately. "You rang?"

"That was quick."

"Well, I know I'm ever so busy this morning, but it sounded urgent."

"Oh, it is." she joked, but the smile didn't seem to reach her eyes.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, why?"

"You look like you're worried about something."

She smiled a little. "Um, no, not really. It's not important."

"What? Now you've got me curious."

He noticed she was fiddling with her necklace. That was a tell-tale sign that she was nervous or worried. "Come on," he said softly, leaning over the desk. "You can tell me."

"Well," she started, looking down at her desk, "I was just wondering what your plans are for tonight."

He leaned back, surprised. He'd assumed from her visible anxiety that it was a more serious issue. "Um, well, nothing really. I was probably just going to hang out with Mark and Anna, watch some tv and have a few beers."

"Oh. I thought you'd be out partying at a bar or something," she said, still not quite meeting his gaze.

"No, I didn't really feel like it this year. Why? What are you doing tonight?"

She paused. "Um, nothing either."

Jim nodded. "Is that what you wanted to see me about?" The conversation felt funny to him, but he wasn't sure what was going on.

"Yeah." she said, "Wait, no."

Jim grinned. "I haven't moved."

"Okay. Well, I was just wondering if you didn't have any other plans tonight if you'd want to come over to my apartment. I mean, you still haven't seen my tree all decorated or anything. But it's no big deal if you have other plans."

Jim just stared at Pam. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her so tongue-tied. No, correct that. He could remember the last time - and as he recalled it had ended pretty badly for him. This time though, the dynamic was completely different. Here she was behaving oddly, but she was also asking him to come over. He felt about a dozen different emotions assault him, but went with his first instinct.

"Yeah, I could come over," he replied, feeling less confident than he sounded. "What time?"

"Seven? I could make dinner, and we could see what's on tv." She looked slightly
apologetic, "I warn you it won't be very exciting."

He laughed. "It still sounds like a step up from my original plans."


Jim arrived promptly at seven o'clock, bringing a bottle of wine as well as a bottle of champagne. Pam put the champagne on ice and opened the wine. Jim helped with the salad and garlic bread, while Pam put the finishing touches on eggplant parmesan. They ate dinner seated around the coffee table, as the Christmas tree had surplanted the dining room table for the season.

Between the good food, good wine, and good conversation, one thing stood out the strongest in Jim's mind: how incredibly easy it was to just enjoy her company. To put aside everything that had ever gone between them and reconnect on such a deep, basic level. There was him and there was her, and that's all there needed to be for him to feel content and happy. She could make him smile with a look, make him laugh at both the most profound or the most ribald thought she had. She held the key, just by being who she was.

For so long he'd felt contrained when in her company. First she was attached to someone else. Then he was nursing a broken heart and a distance in both body and mind he felt would never disappear. But over time that distance narrowed, and his heart mostly healed. She'd been responsible for a great deal of that, and he'd started to trust enough to finish the task.

As the midnight hour approached, they sat on the couch and turned on the television to watch the broadcast from Times Square. "Let's go down there some year," she said suddenly.

"You're insane," Jim laughed. "Do you see that crowd??"

"It would be fun," she insisted. "Just once."

He looked at her, hearing the echo in his head of the last time he'd heard that phrase in her company. "Yeah, maybe just once," he said softly.

Pam put the television on mute, and Jim watched her finish off the half-glass of wine she was holding. "I need to say something before midnight gets here," she said, staring at her empty glass.

Jim sat up a bit straighter, a little alarmed by her tone. "Okay."

She looked at him for a moment, as if gathering up her resolve. "I just wanted, no - needed to tell you how sorry I am for everything that happened this year."

"Pam," Jim breathed, not quite sure what to say.

"Please, just let me say this first." She saw him nod and she continued. "I wish I could go back in time and change so many things that happened this year. But I can't. So I just need you to know that I hope we can make this coming year a better one." She paused again,and he noticed her hands were shaking. "I asked you over here tonight in the hopes that maybe we could, you know, think about being more than friends?"

Jim sat silently. He wasn't sure if his head was spinning from her words or from the wine.

"I don't know what to say," he began.

"Tell me that I'm not too late." she said, a sob catching in her throat. He hadn't realized she was crying. "I am so in love with you, Jim, and I can't go into a new year without telling you that."

Jim couldn't remember if he accidently dropped his wine glass or if he let it go on purpose, because at that moment his only focus was on touching her, to make sure she was real, and on kissing her, to make himself believe what she was telling him. In those first moments everything was forgiven, everything promised.

They forgot the television was still on mute, so they missed the countdown and lowering of the crystal ball. They missed the fireworks and all of New York City wishing them a Happy New Year. But they were busying making their own fireworks, and they certainly didn't need Ryan Seacrest telling them how wonderful 2007 was going to be.