“No. Turn it off.” Jim groaned. He rolled over and buried his face against Pam’s back. Pam didn’t move; she continued sleeping through the insistent ring of the alarm clock coming from her side of the bed. “Pam,” he tried again, pushing closer to her.

“Mmph.” Pam stirred, but she didn’t wake up. He didn’t know why she set the alarm clock; she never woke up when it went off. Jim sighed and half crawled over her sleeping form, fumbling for the alarm clock. He smacked at it a few times, trying to turn it off before finally grabbing hold of it and yanking the plug from the socket. The sound of the clock hitting the floor finally forced Pam awake.

Her hands stilled his arms as he tried to roll back over to his side of the bed, keeping him hovered over her. “I can think of worse ways to wake up.” She gave him a sleepy grin. “It’s early, isn’t it?”

Jim nodded. “It is. Which one of us set the alarm for six again?” he asked, shifting so that his elbows rested on either side of her. “I’m pretty sure we both know that it wasn’t me.”

“No that was me.” She yawned as her brain started to remind her of everything she needed to do that morning. “I have to bake those pies. You need to get up and…” She stopped as he settled against her and glanced down between them. “I guess you’re already up.” Her fingers drifted up and down his arms.

“Cute.” Jim pushed into her slightly. “But you’re right; I don’t have to be up.” He bent his head to brush his lips across hers. “I could stay in bed for at least two more hours if I wanted to.” He kissed her again.

“No distractions, Jim.” She tried to turn her head but he followed her. “I need to get up.”

“Some distractions,” he persuaded, kissing her again. “Like, an hour of distractions?”

“Ten minutes,” she bartered, giving in and pulling his head down to hers.

“Forty-five minutes.” Jim ran his hand up her thigh to rest on her hip.

“Fifteen.” She pushed her hands under his t-shirt, working it up and over his head before kissing him again.

“Fifteen?” He frowned at her. “Beesly, you wound me.” His teeth grazed at the nape of her neck before he started a trail of bites and licks across her collarbone and just under the hem of her tank top. “Thirty minutes. That’s my final offer or we go back to an hour.”

“Thirty,” she agreed, rolling them over to their sides and propping herself up on an elbow. She leaned in and kissed him, her lips beginning a slow and lazy assault on his mouth. Not breaking the kiss, she pushed gently until he was on his back and positioned herself over him, placing her hands to either side of his head to steady herself. Jim tried to bring her down against him but she resisted, shaking her head slightly before releasing him from the kiss. She clucked her tongue softly at him and mimicked his kiss from earlier, brushing her lips over his briefly. Then again. And then on the third kiss, she lowered her body onto his.

Both of them were aware that thirty minutes was not much time at all but the next few moments were a delicious battle for dominance, with each taking turns pushing harder against the other, nipping at each other’s lips, digging nails into flesh. Mornings were their favorite. Jim managed to get the upper hand, pinning her underneath him and moving his hands to the drawstring at her waist. Knowing it was a battle she didn’t mind losing, Pam lifted her hips willingly, allowing him to slide her pajamas down to her ankles before she kicked them the rest of the way off. She sighed contentedly as his hands made their way back up her body, his fingers skimming the insides of her legs along the way. She felt herself growing warmer as one of his hands settled firmly between her thighs and they both grinned at the moan that escaped her as he traced one finger in and around her folds before slipping inside her.

They were both startled out of their moment by the song Tubthumping blaring from somewhere across the room.

For a second, they both lay still, eyes locked firmly on each other. Sighing, Jim dropped a kiss onto her forehead, and much to her displeasure, removed his hand.

“Why is Larissa calling so early?” He asked, his forehead pressed against hers.

“More importantly, why is that her ringtone on your phone?” Pam untangled herself from both him and the blankets and got up, grabbing the phone from the dresser. “Be sure to tell her thanks for ruining a good thing.”

“Larissa, it’s not even light out,” Jim said by way of greeting. He most certainly was not going to let her know what she’d interrupted. He’d never hear the end of it. His eyes followed Pam around the room, silently begging her not to get dressed.

“I’ll be in the shower,” she whispered, kissing his cheek. “Try and get her off the phone quick enough to join me,” she called over her shoulder.

“Yeah well, mom’s been up since four I think and she wanted me to call you an hour ago so, be grateful I held off this long. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Jim sighed as he stretched out across the bed. “What could possibly have gone wrong already?” Betsy Halpert could rival Martha Stewart in party planning and hosting, and while everything always came together at the end of the day, she tended to stress out over the littlest of details and didn’t hesitate to take it out on her husband or children.

“Pete told her that Pam is lactose intolerant and allergic to onions and he really sold it, and now she’s trying to redo the entire menu for today.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would she even believe—“

“Jim, I know. I told her that Pete’s being a dumbass and also, if Pam was allergic to anything, she would have said something but mom said she doesn’t want to be responsible for killing the first girl you’ve brought home in seven years, so she’s making me confirm that Pam isn’t going to die if she eats the stuffing today.”

Jim closed his eyes. “Pam isn’t going to die if she eats the stuffing today. Or the potatoes, or anything. The only thing she’s allergic to is cilantro and mom thinks that stuff—“

“Tastes like soap,” Larissa finished. “Okay, good. So I’m going to go tell mom to put away her cookbooks and then I’m going to go wake Pete up as obnoxiously as I can. He and Tom were up drinking in the basement pretty late last night so I bet sending in Vanessa with her trumpet will really piss him off.”

“Make sure she gets real close to his bed. We’ll be there around noon or so. See you then.” Jim tossed the phone aside and made a mental note to punch his brother as soon as he saw him. Then he remembered Pam was waiting for him in the shower and was out of bed and stripping his pajamas off as he made his way toward the bathroom door.

Pam stepped out of the smaller room just as he was about to join her. “You’re too slow, Halpert,” she said with a grin.

“Maybe you’re too fast,” he countered, yanking the towel from her body and pulling her flush against him. “Don’t I still have at least twenty minutes of distractions?” he asked, lifting the damp strands of hair from her neck to kiss the skin there.

“Afraid not, time’s up.” She kissed his nose and then bent down to pick up her towel. “What did your sister want?”

“Pete had mom convinced she was going to kill you at dinner today and I had to set her straight.” He shook his head at the look she gave him. “Don’t ask. And don’t worry, you’re not getting killed.”

“Good to know.” She dressed quickly in a pair of yoga pants and the t-shirt he had dropped on the floor moments ago. She raised an eyebrow as Jim crawled back into bed. “What are you doing?”

“Going back to sleep for like, an hour.” He smirked. “What can I say; we were up late last night. I’m tired.”

“Mmhmm.” She sat on the edge of the bed and towel dried her hair. “You know, if you’d let me bake those pies last night like I planned, we both could still be asleep right now.”

“That’s true, but to be fair, I didn’t know that the sight of you wearing an apron and with flour on your cheek was going to be such a goddamn turn on either.” Jim raised his hands in a sheepish shrug. “But now we know. Pretty sure I’m doing both of us a favor by catching a little more shut eye.”

“You’re probably right.” She leaned over for a quick kiss. “I’ll come wake you up later.” He tried to cajole her back into the bed with him but she managed to get out of there before he succeeded.

Downstairs in the kitchen she came face to face with last night’s attempts at pie making. Thankfully, she had only gotten as far as the crusts before Jim had wandered in and distracted her but she was just now realizing she’d never made it back downstairs to clean up the mess. That must have been part of the reason she’d set the alarm for so early.

First things first. She turned on some music and started a pot of coffee. Then she looked for her phone, checking to see if her parents had called yet.

It was a weird feeling, knowing that for the first time in her entire life, Pam wasn’t going to be at her parents’ house for at least part of the holiday. It wasn’t even that the Beeslys particularly went all out for Thanksgiving either, but there was always a big meal, a few board games, and a lot of wine.

This year Bill and Helene were in France. Or maybe they were in Germany, Pam wasn’t sure what their travel schedule was, other than “Europe, Pammy!” as her mother had so excitedly exclaimed two weeks before when she had sprung on her that they would be gone for three weeks. “A second honeymoon is just what we need! Well, technically I guess it would be a first honeymoon since we never did get to go anywhere because of that blizzard after our wedding and your father always said we’d go to Hawaii but it’s been thirty-four years and we still haven’t made it there but what can you do about that?”

She was pretty sure that if anything, this trip to Europe was going to do more damage than good to her parents’ rapidly crumbling marriage. But she didn’t want to think about that just now.

They hadn’t left her a message yet. She’d probably have to call them, which she wasn’t exactly looking forward to either. She could do that later. After baking the pies and before she woke Jim back up.

“You’re making too big of a deal about these pies,” He had teased her the night before. Any other time he’d have been right. Like if he hadn’t once told her that Thanksgiving was his favorite holiday and if his mom hadn’t suggested she bring them to her first holiday with his family.

Pam loved the Halperts. She still wasn’t entirely sure who knew what about what had all happened before they had started dating, but she expected none of it was a huge secret. She had been crazy out of her mind nervous the first time Jim had taken her to Sunday dinner; had prepared herself for their resentment that Jim had left, or pity for what she had gone through with Roy, even for their anger that she simply hadn’t seen what had been in front of her for years. She had rehearsed her apologies the whole drive over even as Jim reassured her that she was worried over nothing.

He’d been right, of course. That first night she’d been greeted with hugs from both his parents, and Betsy declaring her too pretty for Jim before pressing a glass of wine into her hand and leading her in for a round of introductions to one of his brothers and his sister. And that had been it. There was no talk of the past, no judging looks directed her way, no backhanded comments. Everyone was simply happy she was there and it only took about five minutes more for her to feel like she belonged. The bi-weekly Sunday dinners quickly became one of Pam’s favorite things to look forward to.

So to be invited to an official Halpert Holiday? To have Betsy call her specifically when she found out Pam’s own parents were off gallivanting through Europe and tell her that she wasn’t just invited; she was expected to be there? And then she’d taken it a step further and extended the same invite to Pam’s sister just because she didn’t like the idea of either girl not celebrating the holiday with family.

Penny had declined, choosing to spend the day with her own boyfriend’s family but Pam had almost cried at how sweet Jim’s mom was.

Okay, she had cried. It was fine. Jim only teased her a little.

When Jim’s mom had called a second time, just to remind her of the timeline for the day, Pam had asked what she could bring. After years of being told by Mrs. Anderson to not bring anything to any meal ever, she had been both surprised and delighted when Betsy told her that the family would happily eat whatever she made, but also, did she know that Jim loved peach pie?

It felt as though she was already a part of the family. Pam would have cried again if she hadn’t been standing next to a decorative gourd display at the grocery store at the time.

So yeah. The pies felt pretty damn important to her.

The next hour flew by but before she knew it, she had two pies with two perfectly dimpled edges sitting next to each other in the oven. She was on her way to wake Jim up when she heard him getting into the shower. There wasn’t anything left to do but try calling her parents.

Pam was almost relieved when she got her mom’s voicemail. Maybe that meant they were out having a great day together. She left them what she hoped was a cheerful message, telling them Happy Thanksgiving and that she missed them. She reminded them where she would be for the day but that she’d have her phone with her if they wanted to call her back. She surprised herself by getting choked up as she said goodbye, but didn’t beat herself up over it. It was the first time she wasn’t seeing them on a holiday after all.

She thought about calling Penny but it was still barely nine in the morning and there was no way her sister was awake yet. She called to Jim from the base of the stairs, offering to make him breakfast but he declined, reminding her that his mom was counting on them for lunch as well as dinner and that it was best if they went in with empty stomachs.

She had a cup of coffee ready and waiting for him when he came downstairs a few minutes later. She handed it to him and nodded toward her phone. “Did the three messages I had from your mom asking about food allergies have anything to do with your brother?” He nodded and grinned and she didn’t ask any more questions.

She couldn’t help but watch him  as he leaned against the counter in just flannel pajama pants as he drank his coffee and she was about to suggest that they go upstairs and finish what they’d tried to start earlier. His phone rang before she could get the words out. Larissa again. He gave her a knowing look as he went off in search of his phone and she couldn’t help but laugh and wonder how many times his family was going to call before they made their way across town.

Pam checked her pies again; one peach and one blackberry (Jim’s dad liked blackberry), and then looked at her watch. “Jim?” she called, not sure what he was doing or where in the house he was. It had been almost half an hour since Larissa had called.

He came into the kitchen, dressed in her favorite jeans of his and a dark green long-sleeved shirt. So much for squeezing in a quickie before he got dressed. She turned back to the sink with the intent of washing the last few dishes but her eyes stayed on him as he moved around the room.

She was startled out of her thoughts by the snap of a dishtowel against her hip.

“You were staring,” he said, raising his hands in defense when she glared at him. “I’m more than eye candy, Pam. I have a brain too, you know.” He moved to flick the towel at her again but she was quick enough to grab it before it hit her.

“Sure, sure, you read books and sometimes win at Jeopardy,” she said dismissively as she pulled him closer by the towel between them. “But have you seen your ass in those jeans?” She planted a kiss square on his mouth. “Definitely stare-worthy.”

“Well, if you must.” Jim gave an exaggerated sigh and turned away from her. “Stare away.”

“I will.” She made it a point to stare for a beat longer. “Going somewhere?” She asked when he sat down to put his shoes on. “Not going to lie, I was kind of hoping we could go back upstairs for a few minutes.”

“I wish. I’ve got to go to the store.” He rolled his eyes. “Marcy forgot three of the things on mom’s list last night and so she’s banned from grocery store duty until Easter and mom’s afraid the store will be out of things if I wait any longer and besides,” he paused to take a breath. “Wouldn’t it be better if I went now and let her know that I had everything she needed so she could relax and go back to focusing on getting lunch ready for everyone?”

Pam stared at him, trying to wrap her mind around everything he’d just said. He was doing his best to sound annoyed but it was also pretty clear that this was a completely normal thing that he was used to. “Are you enjoying this?” she asked, noting the grin on his face. “You are, aren’t you? This isn’t driving you crazy?”

He walked back over to her and kissed the top of her head. “Oh it’s driving me crazy but it’s okay. I wasn’t going to tell you until we got to the house, but you may as well know, my brothers and sisters and I have a game that we play every holiday. We call it Betsy Bingo. And it’s not even ten in the morning and I’ve got two squares filled in so this might be the year I finally win. I’ll explain it to you on the drive over.”

“I think I’ve got it,” she said. “Does she know about this little game of yours?”

“Oh God no, she’d kill us all. You can’t ever tell her.” Jim grinned and kissed her again. “I’ll be back.”

In the time he was gone, Pam managed to finish cleaning the kitchen, get the pies transferred from the cooling racks to carrying containers, and get dressed. Then she had to pack. Even though Jim lived less than fifteen minutes away from his parents and they already had a houseful of guests, Betsy had insisted that Jim and Pam also spend Thursday night at the house. Something about traditions and decorating the outside of the house on Friday. She was packing the last few things into her suitcase when she heard Jim come back.

“Hey,” she called out, letting him know where she was. “Can we swing by my place on the way to your parents? Your mom mentioned something about making sure I have gloves in case its cold tomorrow and I’d hate to see what happens if I didn’t bring something she told me to.”

“Yeah, she keeps track of those kinds of things and then brings them up months later when it’s convenient for her. We’ll stop and get your gloves.”

“Great.” She grinned. “Did you get everything your mom needed?”

“Had to go to two stores and almost lost an arm to a lady with a cane, but I did. Thanksgiving is saved. For now.”

“Thank goodness.” She straightened up from her suitcase. “Are you ready?”

“I am. Are you?” She nodded and he gave her a thumbs up and a cheesy grin. “Let’s do this, Beesly!”

“So let me get this straight. You guys play bingo cards with all of the things your mom does every year that drives you crazy during the holidays?” Having retrieved her gloves, they were now on their way to the Halperts. Pam stared at Jim as he backed his car out of her driveway. “Is there a prize?”

“Of course there’s a prize. Its twenty-five bucks to play. Well, twenty-five bucks and you have to be either a blood relative or at least engaged.” He shrugged apologetically. “Sorry I didn’t get around to that yet.”

“Is that why you haven’t asked yet?” She tried to look offended. “To keep me out of the game this year?”

“Look, I love you, but the competition is already stacked against me. Maybe next year though. I’ll you what, if I do win, I’ll split it with you. How’s that?”

“I guess it’ll do.” She tried to sigh but it turned into a laugh. “How long has this game been going on?”

“At least ten years now.”

“And she has no idea?” She laughed again as Jim shook his head. “Who came up with it in the first place?”

“Who do you think? My dad did. He lives there, so she drives him the craziest of all. It was Larissa who came up with the idea of bingo cards though.”

“What else do I have to look forward to today?”

“We’re going to eat all day long. Like, all day. There will be more food than you’ve ever seen in your life and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. We’re lucky she didn’t ask us over to breakfast this morning.”

“Your mom cooks three meals on Thanksgiving?”

“Plus snacks and desserts.”

“So she works her ass off all day and you spend the whole time secretly making fun of her for it?”

“Pam.” He reached over and squeezed her knee. “How many times has she made Larissa call me today?”

“Four.”

“It was five actually, you missed one when you were getting dressed. And keep in mind that she isn’t even the one making the calls; she’s delegating them out to whoever is standing next to her. She does this to herself. You’ll see. And you’ll also see that not only does she ask for it, she gives it back just as good as we do. Trust me, she loves this about us.”

“Uh huh.” She remained unconvinced for the time being. “Anything else?”

“Tom and Pete are going to be, well, Tom and Pete. Don’t believe a word they say today about anything. Seriously. Larissa’s new boyfriend is also coming for dinner so we may get lucky. They haven’t met him yet so you probably won’t be their target for a good chunk of the day.” She wanted him to explain more about calling her a target but he kept talking. “Other than that, it’s really no different than any other dinner. This is just the first time you’re going to see everyone there at once.”

It was true, the Sunday dinners were usually only Larissa and Jim and occasionally one of his brothers; but she’d never been with all of them together at the same time.

“What does your dad do all day?”

“He’s the Game Commissioner, Pam.” Jim said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “He’s very busy making sure we don’t cheat. He also watches a lot of football and moves the tables every time mom makes him.” He tapped her knee again. “Hey! That’s a side bet you can take part in if you want. How many times will mom make us move the tables around the room before dinner? Last year it was seven. The year before, only two. You just never know.”

“You’re terrible. All of you.”

Jim parked in front of his parents’ house and turned to face her, finger pointed in her direction. “I’ll bet you five dollars that you change your mind on that by the end of the day.”

“Five dollars,” she repeated. “Is that all I’m worth to you?”

“Just easing you in, Beesly. If you go broke today you might not come back for Christmas.” He pointed out the passenger window to the house. “You ready for this? Everyone’s in there. It’s going to be loud. Probably lots of questions thrown your way that aren’t any of their business.”

She snorted. “Please, do you know how many times your mom has asked me if we’re going to get married? How many times your dad has waited until you’ve left a room to ask me?”

“Uh no, I thought they were just asking me that.” He frowned. “What do you tell them?”

It was too easy to not mess with him just a little bit. She shrugged. “That I’m not really the marrying kind of girl.” She leaned over the center console with every intention of kissing that look off of his face. “I tell them that it’s not if, but when,” she confessed. She jerked her head back to look at him suspiciously. “Why? What do you tell them?” She couldn’t stop her voice from rising in pitch with each word. This was starting to sound like a conversation that they maybe should have had at home and not parked on the side of a street.

To his credit, Jim tried to keep his expression serious but the look on her face was too much for him and he laughed as he undid his seatbelt and pushed her back into her own seat with a kiss of his own. “I tell them I’m working on it.” His admission slipped out before he could stop the words, but he was more concerned with the way her hands were sliding around his back and her tongue was slipping into his mouth to worry that much about it.

She sighed and pressed her lips to his forehead. “We should have worked harder on finishing this earlier this morning,” she said.

“We still can. Hop in the backseat.”

“Yeah okay.” Pam started to laugh but quickly realized he wasn’t joking. “Jim, no. We’re not having sex in your car in front of your parents’ house.

“I’ll move the car down the block if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Stop it. We’re not doing this.” She pushed him back to his side of the car and flipped the visor mirror down to make sure her makeup wasn’t too smudged.

“Normally I’d say you’re not being any kind of fun at all, but whatever. I’m just happy to finally get you upstairs into my old bedroom later.”

Pam raised an eyebrow at him from across the backseat as they both started pulling things out of the car. “I hate to break it to you but no, we’re not having sex in your parents’ house at all.”

“That’s what you think.” He winked at her over the hood of the car and then crossed over to her side, taking a few things from her before she dropped them. “Come on. They’re probably watching us through the window.” He shifted a bag over his shoulder and took her hand, leading her up the front walk.