“Uh…” Pam was bright red still, and he was suddenly struck by the thought that she had never looked cuter than in that moment. More beautiful, yes: that had been one of the problems on Casino Night, how beautifully, magically gorgeous she had looked, and he would have been lying if he’d said she was that beautiful here, standing arm in arm with him in a polar fleece jacket and jeans and blushing. Beautiful wasn’t the word. She was cute. Adorable. Lovable.

Always lovable.

“What’s the matter, Pam, cat got your tongue?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, I’m entirely willing to shut up, if you’ll just let me know what rumors about us you might possibly be referring to.”

“Oh, just let it go.”

“Nope.” He tugged her arm closer to his side. “I don’t believe I’ll be doing any letting go of you anytime soon.”

Her eyes softened for a moment, and then she blushed again, deeper somehow. He would have sworn she couldn’t have any blood left outside of her face; he was learning new shades of red he’d never seen before; he was amazed she could still stand and breathe. He took pity on her and continued steering her toward the Opera Bar.

“May a couple drinks will loosen that tongue of yours.”

“Jim Halpert, are you suggesting I’m a loose woman?”

“Now, now, settle down Beesly, remember what happened the last time you got drunk in my presence.” He was taking a risk here, hoping she did remember, because it was the Dundies and she’d really been completely wasted when she’d thrown her arms around him and kissed him. But it was an important moment in his life, and he could no more refrain from mentioning it than he could have refrained from loving her. Which, as he’d recently proven, was not at all.

“Screw you, Halpert, this isn’t a Chilis.” And just like that he knew she remembered just like he did.

“No, I don’t think you screwed me…”

“OH MY GOD.” She dragged him bodily into the bar and to the table an amused-looking waiter directed them to. “What do I have to do to have you give it a rest?”

**

“Simple enough.” He shrugged and she felt the movement through the arm she was still clutching, and there was something wonderful and intimate about the gesture. “You just have to tell me about the rumors.”

“Fine.” She sat down in a chair at a square table and tugged him down in the chair next to her. “But before I do, you need to remember, this wasn’t my idea.”

“I dunno, Beesly, you’re the one who brought it up.”

“Actually, if I recall, correctly, you were the one who mentioned rumors.” She nudged him with her shoulder, enjoying the opportunity to just…touch him, naturally, without having to think about the consequences. Well, beyond the very pleasant consequences, thinking of which was making her blush yet again. Maybe she was just destined to spend the rest of her life looking like one of Dwight’s prize beets.

“Touché.” He raised the hand she wasn’t in contact with to acknowledge a hit. “But then you were the one who…”

“Yes, yes.” She waved away his objection. “Anyway, this rumor wasn’t my idea. That’s my point.”

“Rumors rarely are.”

“Point.” She looked around, avoiding eye contact with him, because even if they were…well, presumably together now, though she realized she hadn’t actually asked him about that, this was about earlier and she still felt nervous about it. “Anyway, remember your party?”

She was so grateful he didn’t ask which one. “Yeah?”

“Remember how I was so sure that Dwight and Angela were having a…well, a secret office romance?”

“Yes. Still think you’re wrong about that, by the way.”

“Oh, you have no idea. But that’s not the point. The point,” and here she gestured with the hand holding his so that he ended up pointing at himself and they both cracked up for a moment before she went on. “The point is that I asked Phyllis about it. And she thought I was…well, that I was talking about you. And me. Um. Us.”

“Good old Phyllis.” He was grinning and she swatted him for it.

“Well, I was embarrassed.”

“I can understand that, but remember, I wasn’t engaged.” He seemed to realize that referencing her previous engagement was a little bit of a misstep. “And anyway, there wasn’t anything going on.”

“Wasn’t there?” She cocked an eyebrow and enjoyed the chance to get to watch him blush for a change.