Pam knew she needed to spend some time apart from Dunder Mifflin for her own good, but she couldn't imagine that she would miss the office atmosphere and her loony coworkers when she finally had some time off. She sat behind the counter in the restaurant and mused over what foolishness Michael did today or what exactly Jim had concocted to irritate Dwight this time. Of course, he kept her updated about everything that happened in the office, but just messages weren't enough for her. 

The reason for her temporary changed routine was a vacation. All these years, when her life had seemed to be so predictable and constant, Pam had planned her vacations in June. She always loved this month, especially in the village. She could relish all the seasonal berries she liked, take long walks by the riverside without fear of getting a sunburn, and sleep in a garden house, under unbelievably bright stars, that couldn't be seen in the city. Pam had even had vague ideas that it would have been nice to have a wedding in June, but Roy had spent their vacations fishing with his brothers and hadn't tolerated the thought of missing the season. Right after the Christmas holidays, she'd scheduled her days off for the same time as always, but in the swirl of all changes that she was going through, she'd completely forgot about it. If Dwight hadn't reminded her to leave instructions to her replacement, she wouldn't have remembered about that and come to work as usual.

This year, though, she was deprived of the usual holiday joys and made no other plans. Honestly, she'd rather have her vacation another time; she regretted slightly that she hadn't rescheduled it for later. Pam would like to go somewhere, frankly, anywhere away from the city, anywhere where she could forget about the turmoils of her life and just draw in peace and quietness. But her work in the restaurant didn't allow her to leave and she still was in need of money, so she couldn't let things slide. She took additional shifts instead; maybe, if she saved enough, she could quit eventually and focus on her art. Mrs. Rud'ko said that Pam was doing pretty well, and, one day, she might become a real artist. Pam believed her and did her best not to disappoint her teacher. She'd like to think that she was succeeding.

Her evening shifts were pretty busy, but the afternoons were usually slow; Pam used every minute of her free time to sketch in the Dunder Mifflin company notebook, every page of which was slowly filled with food-themed cartoonish characters. Perhaps, Mrs. Rud'ko would have called this a waste of time — the old-fashioned lady preferred landscape and still life genres, but Pam wasn't even going to show her scribbles to the teacher. She drew serious paintings for her; the only people who were allowed to see her doodles were Jim and Izzy. 

Her phone buzzed, signaling about a new message. Pam took it, expecting to see a text from Jim — he had to reply on their morning exchange about poplar fluff and if they could trick Dwight into using it as cloth material — and was slightly disappointed to see another number. But then she actually read the message and her cheeks grew hot. 

'They're ready. Congrats! Here you could find them,' — the rest of the text was an address in the center of the city. 

'Oh my God,' she whispered, unable to name what exact emotions these short words stirred inside her. Elation, a tad of fear, and much nervousness, she decided. It felt as if she'd dreamed about a million dollars and suddenly found a suitcase full of bills on her doormat. Pam recalled a conversation she'd had with Mrs. Rud'ko's nephew but didn't think that it would have led to something tangible. Apparently, she was wrong. 

Her head spun slightly; she couldn't think straight. She had the only need — to see it with her own eyes, she couldn't believe that otherwise. And, of course, Jim had to be there too. 

'Hey, could you meet me at your lunchtime? It's very important,' she sent Jim a message and stared at the device in her hand as if it could help to hurry his reply. She almost dropped the phone when she got it. 

'Sure thing, Beesly,' she read and smiled. 'Where?'

Pam texted him the address she'd received and grabbed her purse.

'Um,' she found her manager and fidgeted a little. 'I'm really sorry, but I have to go right now. I instructed Erin, she knows what to do, and I'll be back in a few hours.'

'You do realize that you won't be paid for this shift, right?' the manager said with annoyance. 

'Yes, yes, that's clear,' Pam nodded, barely holding herself from darting out right now.  

'I hope in the future you'll take your duties more seriously,' he huffed. 'There are many students who would take your place in the bat of an eye.' 

'Of course, sir,' Pam beamed. 'And thank you!' 

She disappeared in the staff room then, changed her uniform for the usual clothes, and practically ran out of the restaurant. 

As she left her workplace, the wave of hot air hit her face. The dark clouds crept around the edge of the sky, but they didn't block the sun yet; it was just after noon, so the heat was almost unbearable. Pam just clenched her teeth and tried to move from one patch of a shadow to another one. By the time she passed the rather short distance between the restaurant and the metro, she felt sweaty and weary. The coolness of the underground soothed her tiredness just a little, but she was grateful even for that. 

On the way, counting the stations before the transfer one, she fell in the pit of doubts and second thought. What had gotten into her? Why on Earth did she act so impulsive? Skipped her work and snatched Jim without any explanations! What if she'd asked too much? Jim was incredibly supportive, yes, but everything had its limits. Pam felt terrible about it, but if she'd explained the urgency, it would have ruined the surprise. Another horrible thought appeared — what if her surprise wasn't as great as she imagined it would be? What if it wasn't a grown-up woman’s achievement, but a childish participation trophy? She almost took her phone to cancel the meeting using some made-up excuse, but there was no cell connection underground; when the signal strength indicator appeared again, she'd already exited the station. It was too late to retreat. 

After all, she could always buy him lunch or compensate for his wasted time in any other way. 

The surface heat was the same, but Pam quickly found a solace, moving through the botanic garden, where the trees cast so needed shadows. The garden, though, ended too soon, and Pam stepped on a busy street, filled with moving transport and chaotically parked cars. She crossed this street and went down by the road, checked the house numbers to find the one she was looking for. On the opposite side of the street, a lanky figure did the same, and Pam's heart started to palpitate when she recognized him. She saw Jim for the first time in eleven days and almost jumped to wave at him, to make him notice her; the happiness from seeing him bubbled inside her chest and she couldn’t keep it bottled. Judging by his broad smile when he finally spotted her, he shared that feeling. 

She could tell herself anything — that her news concerned Jim as well or she just kept her word given to him — but the truth was that Pam was just selfish and  couldn’t miss such an opportunity to hang out with him. 

'Hi,' Jim greeted her as they closed the distance between them and stopped in front of the building. And she wanted to hug him, to do the most natural thing after so many days apart. But he kept his hands in pockets, and she thought that it would be awkward, so she clutched her purse tighter instead. 

'Hey,' Pam responded, slightly out of breathing. 'Thanks for meeting with me.' 

'No problem. So, why are we meeting at the,' he glanced briefly at the nearest signboard 'typography? Oh, you're not going to tell me that it's something related to Dunder Mifflin, are you?' 

'Nope,' she chuckled. 'You'll see.' 

They entered a small hall of the building, and Pam looked around, unsure where to go next. Jim watched with amusement as she tried one door to find it locked and shut quickly the second one after the voices inside snapped at her for the interruption. 

'Are you sure you know where to go?' Jim asked with a smirk. 

'I am,' Pam tried to open the third door with no result and went down the hall. 'I just don't know the exact room… oh, here it is!' 

Behind the fourth door was a small, cluttered shop with a bored-looking clerk at the counter. Pam's eyes fell on a rack near it, and her heart stirred. 

Oh God, they were here indeed! 

'Do you remember what I've promised you?' Pam turned to Jim, suddenly nervous. 

'Do you mean to persuade Kelly that those plastic plaid bags are the newest fashion trend? Or to watch 'Stardust' when it is released? Or...' 

'I get it, I make an awful lot of promises,' Pam shook her head. 'No, not the latest, the earlier one.'

'The earlier one? To check the expiration date of the yogurts you're going to eat?’ Jim smirked, and Pam blushed. 

'Hey, I'm keeping this one! But that’s not what I’m talking about. Do you remember that I've promised to show you the final version of my painting?' 

She stepped aside and let him see the rack full of postcards. Among them, among the dull brown, grey, and green pictures of city views, was a spot of bright yellow and blue — a painting of a dandelion field under the clear sky. 

'Is this?..' he asked incredulously. 'Your work… was printed?' 

Pam nodded, biting her lower lip, pleased with his reaction. 

'God, Pam!' 

She squeaked when he suddenly lifted her up, almost crushing her ribs in the process. Her feet dangled in the air and accidently brushed some boxes. 

'Hey! Stop it! If you two aren't going to buy anything, get out of my shop!' the clerk yelled at them. Jim put Pam on the ground and turned to the other person. 

'Sorry, of course, we'll buy,' Jim grabbed the whole stack of Pam's postcard and placed them on the countertop. ‘I’ll take these.' 

The pure joy he radiated made her feel even better than the postcards themselves. Because he was Jim — caring, selfless, always there for her, and she wasn’t sure if he realized how awesome he actually was. 

Perhaps, it was time to make a leap of faith and tell him what he meant to her. 

'Not so fast!' Pam snatched one postcard from the stack. Jim made a face at her, but she just smiled sweetly. 

'I'll return it, I pro…' she stopped in time. 'Just wait for it.' 

They paid for the postcards and left the shop, a grumble of the annoyed clerk followed them to the door. 

'So, are you like Picasso now?' Jim asked with a wide grin as they went up the street. The surrounding changed slightly, the wind brought cooler air instead of hot, and clouds covered most of the sky. But neither of them spotted the changes.

'Picasso was a living classic,' Pam said. 'I'm rather like van Gogh. I probably could afford one meal on the money I'll get.' 

'But you've just started,' he reassured her. 'Firstly postcards, then books and murals, and then one day you'll wake up famous. Don't forget us then.' 

'I won't,' she promised. 

Two blocks from the typography was a post office, and Pam led Jim there. It was unusually crowded inside — the time to pay bills came, and the elderly people preferred to do it via post offices instead of banks. About eight of them were waiting for the service and argued about who'd taken whose place in the line. 

'Could you buy a stamp, please?' Jim nodded, and Pam gave him a handful of coins. 'And I, meanwhile, sign for you the first Beesly print.' 

'Write something nice,' Jim asked and left her near the post desk. Pam watched as he took his place at the end of the line to the postal worker’s window, and her heart was going to explode. 

There was too little space on the postcard to insert all of the things she wanted to tell him now. 

In fact, she wanted to tell these things for quite a long time, for the seven weeks, to be precise — since one particular dandelion trip. 

She'd been painfully aware that her meeting with Jim might have been considered a date, and she remembered the mix of panic and elation she'd felt at the very thought of it. Pam had shared her plans with her roommates, and they'd confirmed her vague suspicions — Izzy enthusiastically and Karen cautiously. One of them had borrowed Pam a best-fitting dress, and another — had given her a pepper spray can, just in case. Lately that day, when Pam had retold her roommates about the meeting, her painting, and Jim's slumber, both of the girls called him 'lame' in one voice, but, probably, for different reasons. Pam hadn't argued with them; if she'd started to disagree with their opinion, she'd have had to tell them about his adorable sleepy expression or how her heart had made a flip when she'd caressed his mussed hair and slightly stubbled cheek. Pam wondered what it would have been like, to kiss him right there and then, while he’d been asleep, even if it had felt so wrong and slightly creepy; that idea hadn’t left her for many, many days. She'd preferred to keep these memories and thoughts to herself. 

But now, she was ready. She felt that she was finally worthy of him; and she felt that she was strong enough to survive the possible rejection. 

'What have you written?' she was snatched out of her daydreaming by Jim, who stood with a block of stamps in his hand and tried to peek into her scribbles. 

'Uh-uh, you'll read it all in two to four days, when the postcard arrives' Pam hid the couple of words she'd managed to write. 'Tell me better, what's your post index.' 

'02068,' Jim said, and Pam wrote the numbers neatly. Then she chose a stamp with a cocker spaniel on it, moistened the back with a special sponge, pressed it to the paper, and smoothed the edges. 

'Done!' Pam smiled brightly as she dropped the card into a slit of a mailbox. 

'So cruel,' Jim grumbled. 'I'm right here, in front of you, you could've given it to me now, but instead, you left me hanging.' 

'It would've been too easy,' Pam replied. In truth, it gave her a couple of days to prepare for his reaction. She'd never been a type who made the first move, and her deed felt bold, even brazen. 

Jim said nothing, just shook his head, and moved to the exit. Pam followed. 

When they exited the post office, they were greeted with the cold wind blowing at their faces; the sky was utterly dark, and the slight smell of ozone reached their nostrils. 

'Could we make it to the metro?' Jim asked with concern. 

'Do we have a choice?' Pam replied. 'Your lunch break is almost over, and I'll feel bad if your late arrival gives Dwight a reason to feel superior.' 

'Does he need a reason for that?' Jim raised his brow at her, and she giggled as they walked fast to the nearest metro station. 

They barely covered half a distance when they heard a loud rumble, and the clouds poured down everything they'd stoked so diligently. 

'Okay, it's time to run,' Jim exclaimed, his voice shouting over the loud noise of the summer shower. Pam could do nothing, but agree, and tried to match Jim's quickened pace. She fell behind at first, trying to avoid the puddles and streams of running water and making Jim stop and wait for her; but then she misstepped, and her right foot plunged into the cold water to the ankle. She stopped worrying about keeping her sneakers dry after that and ran like she'd never run before in her life, catching up with Jim quickly and slowing down no more. 

The station was still quite far, and they found shelter under a large chestnut tree, both breathless and drenched. They exchanged glances and laughed, at the situation they were in and at each other. 

'You know, there's a thing called 'umbrella,' Jim brushed his soaking bangs off his forehead. 'Try to get one, I assure you, it'll change your life.' 

'You don't have an umbrella either,' said Pam, her teeth chattering almost noticeably. 

'I have. I just left it in the office,' Jim retorted. 

'What, were you in such a hurry to meet me that you forgot to look up at the sky?' 

It had to be a joke, a part of their usual banter, but instead of quipping back, he fell silent, with a slightly wistful expression she couldn't quite decipher. Pam's heart speeded up its rhythm at that sight. Perhaps, she shouldn't have to wait for these two to four days. 

'Listen, Jim…' she managed to say, but then his arms were wrapped around her waist, and his mouth was pressed to her, and she forgot what she was about to declare. 

Her mind went blank. All thoughts that might have appeared — that Jim was kissing her, that he was just the second person who had ever kissed her, and how she hadn't prepared for that at all, even with her determination and written confession — all these thoughts turned into a high-pitched humming, that filled her every brain cell. In the critical moments, Pam usually froze; perhaps, her brain did the same.

Her body, though, was smarter — or, at least, quicker to react. The moment Jim started to pull back, her hands came to life, sliding to his face and into his hair. He sighed when she kissed him back and deepened the kiss. She did the same when he hugged her tighter and pulled her closer. 

After a few moments that felt like months, they broke their kiss. Pam could laugh at the stunned and dazed expression on Jim's face, but it wasn't funny at all, and she was sure her own expression perfectly mirrored his. 

'You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,' he said at last, and humming in Pam's mind became even louder. 

'Me too,' she whispered, more out of a reflex than due to coherent thinking. Something lit in Jim's eyes, and the corners of his mouth twitched. 

'Really?' it was half breath out, half-laugh, and oh God, it was Jim, here, with her, and he said he'd wanted to kiss her for some time, and Pam, you should do something about that!

'Yeah,' finally, something clicked in her fogged brain, and Pam smiled back. 'But I thought it would be less cheesy.' 

'Come on, Beesly!' he chuckled, and even if she'd had some insecurities and doubts, they'd have gone without a trace. 

'Seriously, Jim? Kissing under the rain?' Pam playfully shook his hand that she didn't realize she held and didn't even remember when she'd taken it. 'You should check Wikipedia, I'm sure the page 'cheese' would be illustrated with our faces.' 

'Hm,' he considered it for a moment. 'Well, okay, something about it sounds… logical. So… do you want to take a rain check?' 

'Absolutely I do,' Pam grinned, and he grinned back, and she couldn't believe in what had happened and didn't quite know where all of this was leading. But something inside her lilted that everything was going to be pretty awesome. 

And then, despite previous agreement and rain, that didn't stop for a second, they kissed again. Water oozed between her toes, and Pam felt a treacherous aching in her throat telling her that tomorrow she'd be a snotty mess, but she couldn't let go of Jim, of his warmth, his nose, pressed awkwardly to her cheek, and that feeling of pure happiness that filled her chest every time he was nearby.

So she didn't.