After some thought, they agreed on Casa Bella that evening. Pam wanted to go somewhere where they would be able to talk in relative privacy, and she figured that the addition of food might provide a distraction, should one be needed. Additionally, it would add an air of somewhat normality for them both. They had also agreed this was not a 'date'. As it was, Pam was nervous enough and was finding herself counting the minutes until the end of the workday. She did not want the added burden of the expectations usually associated with a date.

She thought Casa Bella was a fairly good neutral setting for their talk. There would be other people nearby, and a welcome slightly more secluded atmosphere due to the spaciousness of the tables. As restaurants go, it was relatively intimate with it's soft lighting and elegant feeling, but still a public place.

As such though, she didn't know what she was expecting from the evening. She wanted to come away with a clearer understanding of where they stood. She wasn't sure what she felt ready for and was still cautiously trying to find her feet.

"Oh, you'll have a good time! You can call after if you want, though?" Helene had reassured her.

Pam had slipped back to her desk after lunch, grateful her mom had been able to talk. It filled her with such a sense of security having their relationship back; during the years with Roy they'd – she'd – drifted further away emotionally from her, leaving Helene hurt and confused and unable to figure out why her usually open daughter was closing all the doors between them. They'd had time to reconnect in the months Pam had stayed with them, and it meant more to her now than she could ever express to have her mom staunchly in her corner again.

"I was always right there, Pam. You just stopped letting me in." She remembered her mom saying one afternoon a few weeks into her visit.

She supposed it was true. But now she was taking tentative steps forward, and just having Helene want to hear how everything went after tonight, cared how she felt and knowing she would be there if things fell apart, carried her through with a new confidence.

The afternoon inched along maddeningly, her first day back being somewhat uneventful and her thoughts submerged with the night ahead.

Three o'clock came and went with a Michael meltdown. After a minute of yelling hysterically for everyone to get in the conference room now, Pam found herself perched nervously to the left of Jim, directly behind Kevin.

"Why are we here?" Stanley grouched from the back of the room.

Michael waved his arms sulkily. "Because, Stanley, it would appear that tolerance is something that is beneficial to all of us, not just guys like Oscar."

Oscar sat up indignantly. "Guys like Oscar?"

"I…. just think it is important to be aware that people have… feelings. Even Dwight. And-"

Jim cleared his throat. "Ahem, I do not believe that."

"Jim, this is about tolerance and … Dwight, nor anyone else, should be ridiculed because he has feelings and emotions."

"Emotions are a myth, like the soul." Dwight stated firmly.

"God. See here is a prime example. No matter how idiotic, no matter how much he bugs the hell out of you, Dwight is still a human with feelings. That is the point. Dwight can drive you so crazy sometimes you just wanna drive him out to the desert and leave him in a hole. But we don't do that. Why? Tolerance."

"I'm not sure about this whole human aspect. I think we're gonna need to see some DNA." Jim interrupted.

"I'm just saying, everybody gets hurt, and everybody, gay, straight, overweight, robot, Dwight, can cry. And-"

"I do not cry Michael." Dwight said tightly. "Crying is for the weak, crying is for little girls."

"What about Jack Bauer?" Jim put in.

Dwight looked at him, outraged. "The president was assassinated, Jim! His tears were for his country!"

"That's good Dwight, anger is good. Let it all out. Shhh." Michael said soothingly. "See, this is what comes of not respecting each others weaknesses."

"Michael, why are we here?" Stanley moaned again.

"Because there are some rather… unpleasant... things being said in this office about our co-workers, our friends, even a boss was insulted."

"Michael, you're the boss." said Oscar.

"Yes, and as the boss, It's my duty to tell you that it isn't cool to make fun of Oscar's gayness, or Dwight's abnormally large head, or anything we have done that that we may regret." Michael said, mumbling the last part.

"What?" Jim said, confused.

"Is this because you kissed Jan's mother?" Oscar folded his arms and leaned back.

An outcry of voices broke out in the room. Michael wrinkled his forehead in a frown and waved an arm.

"You kissed your girlfriend's mother?" Angela asked, positively disgusted.

"No…" Michael said, flicking a brief, embarrassed glance at the staff before dropping his eyes. "It was a near miss-"

"Isn't she, like, seventy years old?" Andy grinned, as a high pitched chuckling grew from behind him.

Michael paused. "Seventy three."

"Oh, Michael." Phyllis said, shaking her head.

Jim spoke. "How did that even happen?"

"I thought it was a 'moment'. I thought she.. it was a moment, okay. Don't tell me it's never happened to any of you before!"

"Stop, stop!" Stanley breathed, doubling over with laughter. "Mother f-"

"Dude!" Andy chuckled in appreciation. Pam simply shook her head and leaned to her right.

"What's going on?" She whispered. Jim bent towards her.

"I think Stanley's about to explode." he whispered back, grinning at the sight of the man shaking with mirth and swiping at his eyes with a tissue. "And Mi-"

"Here." Karen tugged Jim's arm, causing him to turn to her. She dropped a stick of gum into his hand, smiling widely.

"I just don't think we should be treating each other this way." Michael was saying carefully.

"Michael, you make fun of all of us on a daily, hourly basis." Oscar pointed out.

"This morning you told me I shouldn't wear brown. You said it makes me look like a corn dog with eyebrows. That's not funny, Michael. People work hard to make those corn dogs." Kevin complained.

"Okay, you're bald, not my fault." Michael replied offhandedly.

"You told everyone I had sex with the janitor." Meredith stated.

"He gave me a t-shirt last christmas that says 'Old Maid' on it. I'm married, Michael." added Phyllis.

"You know what? You're a bunch of idiots." Michael said with irritation, walking out of the room.

"Welcome back, Beesly." Jim grinned as they began to stand up.

She smiled back at him. "Feels like I've never been away."

Pam sat back again behind her desk, absently gazing at the back of Jim's messy head. Michael was banging about in his office, muttering loudly to himself. She thought she might give him ten minutes and go in and try to make him feel better about the situation. It was pretty funny, but also had to have been mortifying for him. After all, it was Michael and he had such a knack of falling into these incidents.

"Hi."

Pam looked up, her vision clearing, her thoughts sweeping to the back of her mind.

"Oh, hi, Karen." She said awkwardly.

The dark haired woman in front of her was practically staring her down, striking pretty eyes, impeccable pantsuit. Wearing a wide smile, she placed her hands on the reception desk and leaned forward.

"You know Jim pretty well, huh?" she said, tipping her head towards him.

Pam's stiffened at the question, reading between the lines. "Uh. Yeah."

Karen's eyes bored into her. "Oh, like that, huh?"

Pam blinked, sitting back to create some room between her and Karen. "He's one of my closest friends." she said easily.

Another stark smile. "Oh. Well, do you know what his favorite food is? I'm planning a little surprise."

Pam decided instantly she did not want to know. "Soft shell crab." she said. And with that the woman swayed away from the desk, leaving Pam to stare after her, mildly vexed.

-TO-

Jim was the first one to arrive at Casa Bella. Pam arrived minutes later, sliding her new car next to Jim's in the small parking space. They looked at each other nervously, before entering the restaurant and being seated. Pam was relieved to see that it was fairly empty, and she relaxed a little.

They ordered first, making small talk between them. The meals came on time and they fell silent as they ate.

Jim spoke first. "So… how are you? Really?" he asked somewhat anxiously.

Pam shrugged in reply, but smiled."You know. Getting used to everything."

Jim's eyebrows raised. "But things are going okay with you?"

"You know." she repeated. "Sometimes it's like everything is getting better and then I think everything is getting even more screwed up."

"You still seeing the therapist?" he asked. Pam simply nodded.

"It's going okay." she replied.

"I've...er.. I've really missed you." Jim looked at her over the table. She looked back at him, and held his stare with a small smile.

"I've missed you too." she said, taking a long sip from her glass of wine. "Do you ever have those moments.. like moments inside a moment?"

"Moments inside a moment?" he repeated.

"Where things are happening at the same time."

"Oh. I guess so?" Jim smiled.

She played her fork, pushing potatoes around her plate. "Sometimes… I'm so certain about something… and I'm clear and focused, and right into that moment comes something else, something opposite. And then I'm lost again."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

Pam was confused. "Right now?"

Jim laughed. "No, with life, with everything."

"Oh." she chuckled too. "Um.. I wanna go to art school, I think. I want to paint more. I want to…. You know what I want to do? I want to be able to enjoy every second of every day."

"There's plenty of time yet." Jim said.

Pam looked over at him, observing him without speaking. She took in his warm, green eyes. His hair, looking lighter and softer under the ceiling lights, and neatly combed back. His strong, angular chin. They way he had of always projecting an air of calm around him, in any circumstance. It was like she was really seeing him for the first time.

"What?" he questioned with a small laugh.

"What? Oh, nothing?" she replied, picking up her fork again.

"Okay." he said. He pulled a face and returned to his meal.

"Jim." Pam hesitated as he looked up, waiting for her to speak. "It's… I just don't know that I believe in it anymore."

"In?" he waited patiently.

"Love."

"Love?" Jim was confused. Pam leaned forward nervously, scrunching her arms tightly to her side.

"All those years I spent… with... it made me feel differently about things, like love wasn't for me. He'd say I made it hard to love me, that he did what he did because he loved me. I just don't think I believe in it anymore."

Jim shuffled his chair forward, his forehead creased. "I don't believe that, Beesly. Not for a second."

"I let that relationship take everything that was good about love, and good about myself and destroy it." she mumbled, looking downcast.

"Hey. I still enjoy being around you." Jim said sincerely. "You're doing fine. I still like you." he said it half jokingly, but truly meant it. Nothing had changed, not on his part.

"Maybe you just need someone to show you the good parts again." he added. "Maybe we both do."

"I'm… really scared." she admitted.

"Of what?" Jim asked.

Pam looked around the restaurant, carefully, watching a waiter darting round tables. "Of how I feel about you." she said boldly, looking away from him. Her eyes fluttered down to her plate.

"You're such a good guy. I went away thinking I'd get myself straight and know what I want. All I did was miss you even more. But…"

"But what, Pam?"

Pam slowly raised her eyes. "I'm never going to be enough for you. You're incredible, you're so smart and so funny, and you always know what you want and you have so much potential. Me? I just have old scars and heavy baggage and no idea what I'm going to do."

Jim visibly reacted. "Are you kidding me? You are everything. I fell in love with you a long time ago. I didn't care about any of those things back then and I don't now. That's not what I see when I see you."

Pam teared up, looking at him wide-eyed.

"I guess I'm just gonna have to convince you, aren't I Beesly?" he said.

Surprising Jim, she reached out and took his hand, interlinking their fingers on the table. "Can we take things slow? Nothing official, nothing public, no labels, no pressure…? Just spend some time getting to know each other…. that way…. And just let everything happen naturally."

"You don't have to be afraid of me." he told her earnestly.

"It just… it's going to take some time. That's all. I'm sorry." she added quickly.

"You set the boundaries." Jim said, his heart beating wildly with happiness. Small steps, he knew, but he had a good feeling about it, and he had waited so long for her. Gingerly he lifted her hand to his mouth, gently pressing his lips down.

Jim looked up to find Pam smiling back at him, her fingers tightening around his.

-TO-

Jim followed behind her to her new home to make sure she got home safely. He sensed she was still a little nervous about being out alone and in the dark. She seemed happy enough that he was willing to see her inside safely.

Her building looked safe enough, a little low rent and a little run down but good enough. He parked up behind her and climbed out of his car.

"So this is Casa de Beesly." Jim remarked. Pam closed the door of her own car, a sudden anxiety crawling over her.

"You don't-" she said quickly.

"Let me see you to the door. Old school." he said. Pam smiled and shook her head fondly. Together they walked up towards the entrance to the apartments.

"Dwight number two is on the top floor." She said, looking upwards.

"Hmm. Really looks-"

"Just like him." she finished. "Well, Halpert. I guess I'll see you in the morning. Thank you for a great time. And er…. Thank you for… you know… being so good about everything." Pam faced him, opening her arms up. Jim reached around her, letting her melt into his chest. Shaky arms wrapped around his neck, warm tears wet his shirt. "Thank you." she repeated and stepped back. Quickly, Pam leaned up and kissed his cheek gently, before opening the entrance door.

"See you in the morning." she said softly, and flew up the stairs to call her mom, leaving Jim standing outside, red in the face and his heart dancing madly.