Dwight’s manpurse was very becoming, Pam had to admit. Or rather, it would be if Dwight’s entire aesthetic aside from the very attractive bag were not so decidedly opposite to the purse itself. It was like watching a vampire try to put on makeup in a mirror: no matter how ethereally beautiful the subject, and no matter how transcendentally perfect the makeup, nothing good was going to come out of it because they simply did not work together.

She made small talk with Jim behind the counter while they both suppressed the urge to tell Dwight this, instead making sure to loudly compliment the purse itself whenever conversation lagged. She thought this was helping, in that Katy’s sales actually picked up quite a bit after Dwight broke the ice: though whether that was due to their enthusiasm or the fact that the later afternoon clientele had more women in it (and more intelligent men) was open for debate.

As the hours turned and turned she became aware that she did actually have to get home so she could finish that bedroom. She definitely had the inspiration that she needed in not just the person of Jim but the realization that she did indeed have an ongoing life after Roy, boyfriend aside (but also boyfriend very much not aside because she had a boyfriend now and it was Jim).

But she didn’t actually want to leave Jim’s side.

This was a conundrum.

Fortunately it was a conundrum Jim was uniquely qualified and motivated to solve, as he casually (oh so casually, so casually that Pam suspected very much that it was not casual at all) suggested that his shift was over at six—“Michael likes the late crowd, the sort of people who drink caffeine until midnight, so that’s all him”—and perhaps Pam might be willing to meet him somewhere for dinner? Perhaps Italian, maybe…Cugino’s? If she wanted to?

She wanted to.

“Great, then it’s a date.” He rapped the part of the counter that could swing up like a gate for emphasis.

“It really is, isn’t it?” She thought she’d thought that but apparently she’d said it out loud because Jim grinned at her. He was terrible for her brain to mouth filter, but she didn’t mind all that much, she decided.

“I know, right? I feel like I oughta pinch myself.” He did so, then shook his head. “Nope, still not dreaming.”

“Are you sure? This could be one of those dreams where there are bedbugs or something biting you, so you feel the pinch but it’s not really a pinch.” She tsked at him, mock-serious. “Jim, I could be one of those Inception people. I could be incepting you right now. Maybe this dream is all so that you’ll show me where the hidden secrets of good Italian cooking in Scranton are, and once we get to Cugino’s poof. You’ll wake up wondering whether you’ve truly ever met me in real life at all.”

Jim shook his head. “No, that can’t be it, because I’m incepting you right now. I needed to know the best kind of tea in the Bigelow starter pack, and there really was no better way to do it than to sneak into your dreams and pretend to be a coffeeshop employee for several weeks.”

“Ah, that explains it.”

“What?”

“Why my heart keeps racing like a top that won’t stop spinning whenever you’re around. It’s your totem.” She covered her face in her hands. “Oh my god, now I know it’s definitely not a dream, I would never imagine I could say something as embarrassingly corny as that.”

“Hey, hey.” He put his arms around her. “It wasn’t embarrassingly corny.” She could somehow feel him smirking through his chest even though she couldn’t see his face. “Corny, yes, but not embarrassingly so, since we’re going on a date in twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?” She twisted in his arms and looked up at the clock. “Jim! You expect me to be ready for our date in twenty minutes?”

“Why not?”

“Because…because…because I’m wearing this dumpy pink cardigan and my hair is all askew and…”

“And you look lovelier than a handbag.” He leaned down and kissed her, quickly, on the lips. “And I happen to like that pink cardigan. But if you want to put our date off…”

“No. You are not getting out of it that easily, mister.” She pushed at him and he rolled his eyes but stepped away. “But I am going to freshen up in that bathroom now, “ she pointed, “and I will meet you at Cugino’s after your shift.”

“It’s a date.”

“Yes, you said that already.” She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t help smiling.

He couldn’t help smiling too, apparently. “It seemed important to repeat.”

“Dork.”