Pam snuggled deeper into her pillow. She was warm, cozy, and content. The fact that she was also wearing one of Jim’s t-shirts, was laying under the comforter covering his bed, the man himself was spooned behind her, and it was the weekend thus allowing them to sleep in only added to her feeling of boneless-ness. Keeping her eyes closed she breathed out a deep sigh of serenity. Jim’s right arm was tucked under her neck and was stretching out across the bed. She’d brought her left hand up to his right to intertwine their fingers together. His left arm was draped over her waist, which she was holding with her left hand.

Jim breathed into her hair, causing a tingle to run across her neck and down her spine. She rolled to face him. Beside her, Jim shifted his arms to allow her to move closer. He rolled to his back and she followed his movement to rest her head in the crook of his neck. Pam’s hand traveled up to rest on his chest. As his arms wrapped around her back, she felt his heart beating strongly against her palm.

Tilting her head up, she brushed her lips against his. It had the desired effect. He deepened the kiss and his hands starting edging under the hem of her shirt. She smirked to herself as his hands traversed across the skin of her back while pushing the fabric up. Wearing clothes to bed is so overrated, she thought.

After they eventually emerged from under the sheets, and the shower, Pam returned to the bedroom to dig out her favorite t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and met Jim in the kitchen. He was busy turning bacon in a skillet.

He heard her pad into the kitchen and a smile bloomed on his face. “Hey you.”

“Hi,” she replied.

“Nice shirt,” he smirked and turned back to the bacon. “It’s my favorite.”

“Was your favorite,” she corrected. “It can’t be your favorite shirt anymore.”

Jim didn’t bother turning around and kept his eyes on the stove. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“’Cuz now it’s my shirt,” she said with a giggle in her voice. “So, you can say it’s your favorite shirt of mine, but by definition it can’t be your favorite since it’s not yours.”

This time Jim did turn. He fully intended to continue the debate, but his retort died on his lips. She was sitting at the breakfast bar grinning at him in a way that had visions of jinx playing in his mind. He shook his head with a laugh and stepped forward to steal a kiss across the counter.

“You are so lucky you’re cute,” he said as he pulled the pan off the stove and started transferring bacon to a plate.

“I know,” she grinned and plucked a strip of bacon from the plate as he passed on the way to the small table near the kitchen.

Pam sat down in his lap as they pulled their breakfast towards them. The plate of bacon joined the pancakes and orange juice already set out on the table. Pam poured juice for both of them before they dug in with gusto.

“Thank you for breakfast,” Pam leaned back and kissed Jim’s cheek once they were done eating. “I’ll clean up.”

“You don’t have to,” he protested.

“I know, but you cooked, it’s only fair that I clean up.”

“Far be it from me to suggest otherwise,” Jim relented and held his hands up in surrender.

It didn’t take long for Pam to rinse off their dishes or the pans Jim had used to cook. She closed the dishwasher and wiped her hands dry with a dish cloth in short order.

Walking into the living room she didn’t see him around. “Jim? Where'd you go?”

“In the bathroom,” his voice was muffled through the door. “Be out in a sec.”

Pam was about to sit down on the couch to find something to watch on TV when something caught her eye. Propped up against the TV was a white envelope. The alternating red and green letters were back to the order of the first day.

On the Third day of Christmas my office gave to me

Giddy excitement filled her as she skipped across the room to retrieve the envelope. Swiftly she pulled open the flap and took out the now expected card and retreated a few steps to sit on the couch. Three images filled the space. Each one took up a third of the card. In the top picture, she and Jim were sitting at the conference room table resting their heads on the wooden surface. In the bottom, they were again side by side, but this time rather than being at the table, the chairs were arranged in rows. She and Jim appeared to be counting ceiling tiles. The middle picture was the one that brought a tight throated smile to her face. In the picture her head was resting on Jim’s shoulder. He was staring down at his shoes while a secret smile played over his lips. The words of the back of the card helped to loosen the frog caught in her throat.

Three pointless meetings
Two Olympic Doves
And a Dundie in a paper tree

“Like it?”

Pam looked up to see Jim looking down at her. She held her arms up to him. Jim quickly leaned down into her embrace.

“They keep getting better and better,” she said with mist in her eyes.

Jim was about to reply, but was cut off as her lips claimed his. Not that he minded in the slightest. Nor did he mind when she pulled him down farther for a repeat of their activities from earlier in the morning.