Jim couldn’t deny there was something amazing about this side of Pam, a side he’d always assumed had to exist somewhere in there but had never had an opportunity to see before. She was playful in a way she’d never been when they were…well, when they had just been friends. If someone had told him the Pam he’d known before was flirting with him like this, he’d have had to check in to see if he was dreaming.

He still had to.

“You know I had to pinch myself when I saw you, right?” He smiled over at her. “This is still amazing, that you’re here I mean.”

“Me, too.” She pinched her arm. “Not dreaming.”

He laughed. “No, apparently not.”

She smiled at him, a different smile than he was used to seeing on her face, but one he was pretty sure he could get used to, given the opportunity. “It’s pretty amazing to me, too,” she added softly. “After all, I had to find you in all of Sydney. Like a needle in a haystack.”

“I mean, it didn’t take you that long.” He grinned. “I’ve only been to like three places and you found me at the fourth.”

“It’s not my fault you’re predictable.” She laughed, a low chuckle that spread through him like warmth in places he’d never realized were cold. “But actually, I just came here because I had to, you know? I couldn’t be in Sydney and not.”

He nodded. “I get that. And apparently, neither could I.” He told her about how he’d been intending to go somewhere else entirely—she laughed at his mistake of one Museum of Sydney for another—and ending up only at the opera house by accident. “And there I was, suddenly, looking at exactly the view that…” he trailed off. “You know that one drawing you showed me, the one from when you were really into architecture…”

She was nodding along. “The one of the Sydney Opera House, yeah.”

“Yeah. So I was looking at, well, that, and then there you were, and it was this weird like, destiny or fate or something, because it was like I’d thought you into existence.” She was still nodding, and something in her eyes made him decide to go on. “I’d been trying so hard for weeks to not think about you, and I’d almost succeeded—those museums kind of helped—but then I was thinking about you again and there you were.”

“It felt that way to me, too.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you thought me into existence.”

“Well, you know, Beesly, if you didn’t exist I think I’d have to invent you.”

**

“What do you mean by that?” She cocked her head inquisitively. “I do exist.”

“Well, yeah…” he seemed embarrassed, so she squeezed his hand again. “But I’m not sure I function without you.” He sighed. “I’m not explaining this well, but it’s like…there’s something in me that responds to you, and if I didn’t have you to respond to, I’m not sure who I’d be.”

That was a little scary to hear, if she was honest, but as she thought about it more—the interruption of ordering drinks gave her a moment to ponder—she realized that she knew exactly what he meant. It wasn’t that he couldn’t actually exist without her. He’d done fine before she showed up. It was that something about them resonated. They’d found each other, and that had made each of them more them than they’d been before, and so even though each of them was a fully functional human being, they were better as a unit.

She shared this insight as they sipped the water that had come before the drinks they’d ordered, and was gratified by his response.

“Exactly.” He put his glass down for emphasis. “That’s exactly it. Thank you for finding words.”

“Does this mean…” she licked her lips for courage. “Does this mean we’re a couple.”

He’d picked up his glass when she paused, which meant she got to watch a glorious spit-take as he heard her question. “Uh...you tell me, Beesly.”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “I followed you to Australia. Ball’s in your court, Halpert.”

“I told you I was in love with you.”

“You did.” She smiled, wanly. “Are you still?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Aren’t you going to give me a straight answer?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

Things were getting out of hand, she could tell, and she didn’t know quite how that had happened. She remembered again that she’d probably, no definitely, hurt him pretty badly when she’d blurted out all those horrible things back on Casino Night. She decided it was time for straight talk, which they’d never been that great at.

“Yes. I need to ask, because I really want you to be. Because I’m in love with you.”

He softened instantly. “Well, I’m in love with you too. And I think…” he squinted hard “that means that yes, we’re a couple.”

“Good.”