The weather is perfect for a wedding. 

Pam sips champagne at her table, the air filled with the scent of hay and grass. She watches Dwight bounce Angela around the dance floor like a rag doll, looking at each other like their lives are just beginning. She knows the feeling.

“Hard to believe they’re married,” Jim remarks, watching them dance. “They look really happy, don’t they?”

She nods her agreement. It seems like it should be strange that Dwight and Angela have ended up here after years of missed opportunities and stolen glances and secret liaisons, but nothing really surprises her anymore with the Dunder Mifflin crew. At the end of the day, love conquered all. No matter how long it took, Dwight and Angela’s story played out exactly the way it was meant to, and she’s truly happy for them.

“May I have this dance?”

Pam turns to see Michael Scott behind her, officially graying and quite handsome in his tux, extending his hand. She gives a surprised look to Jim, who winks at her, then she takes Michael’s hand with a smile, letting him lead her onto the dance floor.

“It’s so good to see you, Pam,” he says, as she puts her hands on his shoulders. “Been a long time.”

“I’m glad you could make it,” she replies. “I know you must be the highlight of Dwight’s day.”

“Right after getting married, you mean?”

“It’s a toss-up,” she grins.

They dance for a few moments, and she’s amazed at how different Michael seems just in the way he carries himself. Relaxed, dare she say… matured?

“Holly couldn’t make it?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Home with baby Gilda.”

She can feel her smile threaten to fly off her face. Baby Gilda. Of course.

“You’re going to have to show me pictures of your kiddos,” she says.

“Oh I will. I have two phones’ worth.”

She begins to ask, but stops herself. It’s still Michael, after all.

“It’s kind of weird having the cameras back,” she says quietly, glancing over his shoulder at Stanley and Phyllis dancing, both grinning from ear to ear. A nearby cameraman she doesn’t recognize is filming them. “I’d really gotten used to them being gone.”

“I know what you mean,” he agrees. “After we got to Boulder I found myself looking over my shoulder every few minutes for weeks.”

“Did you watch the documentary?” 

“I tried,” he says, and there’s a slightly anguished expression on his face. “Couldn’t get through it all.”

She leans back, regards him, feeling yet another unexpected symphonious moment with Michael Scott. “I couldn’t, either.”

He grins, an understanding passing between them she never thought they might share.

“It’s funny, right?” he says. “How differently we would have done things, if we knew what others knew, or saw what they saw.”

“What would you have done differently?” 

She can think of a thousand things Michael should probably have done differently, but is curious about what’s actually most important to him.

“When I let Holly go,” he says. She can tell he’s getting emotional just thinking about it. “I should have fought harder. I should have moved to Nashua, done whatever I could to keep her in my life. It was hard thinking about all that time we spent apart.”

“But it all led you back to her, right?” she says gently. “That was just part of your story.”

He nods. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It was still tough to watch, though.”

“I get that. Believe me.”

He laughs. “Quite a rollercoaster, you and Jim. I had no idea.”

She rolls her eyes and lets out an awkward chuckle of her own. “Yeah, well.”

“How... are you two doing?” he asks, somewhat cautiously.

She leans back and looks at him as they spin lazily around the dance floor. “We’re great,” she says. It’s so nice to say it and really believe it.

“Good for you. I’m glad to hear it.”

“I never thanked you, Michael,” she says. “For what you did. Jim told me you talked to him right after I called you.”

“Eh, you guys would have figured it out.”

“I’m honestly not so sure.”

Pam certainly hadn’t intended Michael to get involved, although she should probably have expected it. She’d simply needed a friend to talk to, and he had been there when she needed one.

He shrugs. “Well. If anything I said got through to him, I’m happy to have helped. You guys are my family, after all.” 

She looks into his eyes and remembers all of their times together at Dunder Mifflin: the good, the bad, even the very ugly. She’d always thought Michael was misguided in his belief that her coworkers resembled a family in any way, but maybe he’d been right the whole time. They hadn’t always gotten along, but they’d been stuck together. And they’d grown to appreciate one another despite their differences. Isn’t that exactly what a family is, after all?

“I want you to know, Michael,” she says seriously, “in case you ever wonder, you have been very much missed.”

He smiles in that old familiar way she’s seen before, when she can tell he’s trying not to completely fall apart. In spite of everything, she can feel her own resolve weakening. So she wraps her arms around her old friend and hugs him warmly, two unlikely kindred spirits sharing a moment. 

Over Michael’s shoulder, she sees Jim sitting at their table, an arm draped over her vacated chair, watching them with a smile. He holds up his mental camera with one hand and snaps a picture of them. Click.

Soon the song ends, and she hears a familiar one starting up. Across the dance floor she sees Jim stand, straighten out his jacket and stride directly towards them, tapping on Michael’s shoulder.

“Mind if I dance with my wife?” he asks their old boss.

Michael steps back and very gallantly takes Pam’s hand, kissing it. He then offers it to Jim in a very dramatic, very Michael way.

“Not at all,” he winks at Jim. “I know you’ll take good care of her.”

Pam wraps her arms around Jim as Michael departs, looking up into his eyes. 

“What are the odds?” she asks. “They’re playing our song.”

“Full disclosure, I requested it. Thought if I didn’t cut in, you might leave me for Michael.”

“He is rather charming now,” she teases. “You were right to be worried.”

They dance for a few moments, then he looks at her with a slightly concerned expression. “Are you okay? After the panel and everything?” 

She sighs. “Yeah, I’m okay. I didn’t realize people would have such strong opinions. I guess they made me into the bad guy, huh?”

Jim had watched the entire documentary. He hadn’t told her much, because she didn’t really want to know, but she did assume that whatever footage was included of their last few months before the doc crew left was probably pretty painful to watch. Even this very morning he’d told her he’d been preparing to defend a lot of his own behavior, not hers. 

He tilts his head a bit sympathetically. “They didn’t, actually. I honestly don’t know what those people were watching. Because I can see all of it very clearly now.”

He still looks so sorry for everything they’d gone through, and while she’d been prepared for today to stir up some of those painful memories, the last thing she wants is for any of it to bleed into this happy occasion.

“You were right, you know,” she says, glancing around for the cameras, “to be worried about the way we looked. But it wasn’t just the way they edited us. People were going to have their opinions no matter what.” 

“It doesn’t matter how it looks, Pam. The only thing that matters is how we feel about it.”

“And how do you feel about it?” she asks him quietly.

His hand moves to her waist, encircling it protectively. “I don’t care what anyone thinks but you.”

She smiles up at him. “I don’t care, either.” 

She rests her cheek against his shoulder, breathing him in, and they don’t think anymore. They just dance. 

After a while she pulls back, resting her gaze upon him, feeling such gratitude they’ve made it through their darkest stage relatively unscathed. She leans in to kiss him, wordless and electric, and it’s such an unexpectedly romantic moment he appears a little dazed when she pulls away.

“See? Now you don’t owe me anything,” he teases, and for a tiny instant, she feels that shy receptionist he fell in love with so many years ago reappear as she blushes and pulls him in close. 

They look young. They look happy. She remembers not the specific moments, but more so the feeling: it’s real and it’s true and it’s love and she can see it before her eyes.

She remembers waking up on Jim’s shoulder, sort of. It hadn’t been a big deal, at least she’d told herself so at the time. She’d already noticed by that point they’d fallen into a pattern of tiny intimacies: standing a little too close, catching each other’s eye across the room any time something unusual happened. Which was pretty much all the time.

She’d told herself even then it was because they were friends, best friends. She’d always felt something for Jim she couldn’t examine too closely because it was, quite simply, impossible. But ignoring it didn’t make the thing not exist: it had always been there, floating in the air between them, around them, everywhere, at all times. 

Watching him now on film, the nakedness of his adoration has never been so obvious to her in their entire relationship. And perhaps even more jarring is how clearly she loves him back.

What she’d said years ago about her parents appears to apply to her and Jim as well: sometimes love affairs look different to the people inside them. 

She sees with her own eyes dozens of times he’d looked at her with a love that never faltered. It’s the same exact look he still gives her today: when they wake up in the morning, when he high fives her across the bullpen, when she holds Phillip. And she still looks at him the very same way. It's as if the past and present are somehow one; different in her mind, yet in her heart they are the very same.

They stand across from each other in front of the office, listening to Jim’s iPod. Swaying, not dancing. It’s a perfect imitation of their relationship at this moment: almost, but not quite. The sentiment is there, but their actions are not.

“I’m in love with you,” he tells her in the darkened parking lot, his eyes wet with tears. She’d played the scene over in her mind a million times after that night but watching it actually happen is even more painful than her memory could ever conjure. He’d told her to leave the past in the past, but here it is before her, inescapable.

She sees her own face and remembers exactly what was going through her mind at the time: that the fantasy was over. Everything she had with Jim was coming to a crashing halt. They couldn’t pretend they were just friends anymore, because as much as she’d denied it to herself and to him, they hadn’t been ‘just friends’ for some time. She knew it, and rather than being brave, she’d broken both of their hearts. She’d made them both wait.

She wipes away a tear as the images pour forth, but it’s a happy tear, a tear of relief. So many years full of moments like these add up over time until she forgets. And seeing so many played back to back tells a story: a story of two people falling in love, living in fear, then in freedom. Sharing each other’s hopes, being each other’s dreams. 

She’s always felt it, but now, for the first time, she can see it.

This is their story.

The video of their past comes to an end but she remains in the present, and Jim is now standing right beside her. Always beside her.

“You watched it,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“Well then, I guess you’re ready for this.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope. It’s addressed to her on the front, and for a moment she’s confused. She’s so overwhelmed she can’t quite make the connection.

“What’s that?”

“It’s from the teapot. Everything you’ll ever need to know is in that note.”

She takes the card, turns it over gingerly like an ancient relic; some long buried divine text that’s finally been unearthed. He’s held on to this for years, kept it secret, something he’s never shown her for some reason even though he obviously keeps it close to his heart. But he’s letting her in now, at last. 

She tries to imagine the Jim she knew so long ago, having this moment of vulnerability, suspecting it wasn’t quite the right time for her to hear whatever he had to say, and removing the card from her Christmas gift. The Jim who, despite everything that had come their way, stands before her now, prepared to bare his soul once again.

She opens the letter and reads.

Pam,

I’ve waited for years to tell you this. I’m not sure why. But with the cameras and everything, it’s been harder and harder to keep my feelings inside, and I figured maybe now is the time to tell you. So here goes. 

Ever since you told me to take that job in Maryland, I can’t get it off my mind. I’ve been wondering why I didn’t apply. I probably should have. On paper, everything about it makes sense. But the truth is that no job, or anything else for that matter, could ever compare to the way it makes me feel to be here with you. And there’s no opportunity in the world that I want more than just a chance to make you mine.

You are the reason I get up every day. You are the reason I want to do better, and be better. But you are also the reason I stay. Because if I get to see you smile, or hear you laugh, or believe for even a second that you could feel the same way I do, it makes everything else -- all of this -- worth it.

No matter what happens, I will love you forever.

Jim

She only reads it once right now, but knows she will read it every day for the rest of her life.

“Not enough for me?” Jim says, a sentimental smile tugging at his lips, a decade-old tear glistening in the corner of his eye. “You are everything.”

A flood of emotion washes over her in an instant, relief she hadn’t really known she needed as she rises, falling into his arms, feeling his warmth surrounding her as he holds her close to his heart. 

“Thank you,” she whispers into his ear.

Finally, irrevocably, she understands. She had never come in second to his dream. She had always been his dream. 

The truth is, it was never even a contest.

***

It’s been a pretty good day.

Jim grabs his jacket, throws his bag over his shoulder, ready to head out. The only thing he’s missing is Pam. He checks the break room, the parking lot, then heads down into the warehouse, where he finds her sitting alone on a palette full of copier paper, staring up at the enormous blank wall. The letter he’d given her from the teapot is still clutched between her fingers.

“There you are,” he says, and she turns to smile at him. 

“Hi.”

“What are you doing down here?” he asks, sitting down next to her. They both look up at her newest canvas. 

“Just thinking about what the mural is going to be,” she says. “I was sitting here and I realized that the way it started was just… all wrong.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I think that’s the reason it’s been so hard. I kept thinking inspiration would eventually hit me but it never really did. I just kept muddling through until… well,” she laughs. “Butts.”

He chuckles. The vandalism had certainly put an end to whatever she’d been working on.

“So you’re saying the butts were a blessing in disguise?”

“They were indeed,” she nods, her mouth curved into a half-smile. “But weirdly the whole thing got me thinking about us, you know?”

“The butts?”

“No,” she laughs. “Just… that everything that felt wrong for us over the past few months felt that way because of how it all started. And rather than come to that realization and regroup, we just kept pushing through until…”

He nods, getting it. “Butts.”

“Exactly.”

She’s right. He’d been so certain he was on the right path in Philadelphia, that everything that was difficult or felt bad was just something they’d have to push through. But ultimately he realized that it felt that way because the entire venture had started out wrong.

He puts his arm around her shoulders and her head falls comfortably into the crook of his neck. 

“Anyway, I have a chance now to start this the right way, to come up with an idea that works. That feels right.” She twists her head to look up at him. “Just like we do.”

“I know you’ll come up with something amazing, Pam. I believe in you.”

She sighs, and takes his hand. “Thanks. And Jim, I need you to know that I believe in you, too. I always have and I always will.”

He squeezes her hand and leans over to kiss the top of her head. They sit together in a comfortable silence, contemplating the task ahead of her, and the road ahead for them.

After a few minutes, the upstairs door bursts open and Erin comes bounding out.

“Pam! Jim! You have to come up for Darryl’s last dance!” she screams, her bright smile visible from all the way across the warehouse.

Pam straightens up to look at Jim, confused. 

“We’ll be right up,” he calls, and Erin gives them two enthusiastic thumbs up before twirling around and heading back inside.

“Last dance?” Pam asks him.

He shrugs and stands, holding his hand out. “I don’t know, but it sounds like fun to me.”

“It does,” she says, taking his hand. She glances around the warehouse. “I just realized what a mess it still is in here.” 

Jim takes a look around at the obstacle course he’d set up earlier in the day to determine his Assistant to the Assistant to the Regional Manager: scattered chairs, boxes of paper and coffee spills.

“Oh, that’s no problem,” he says. “I’ll have my assistant clean it up.”

She bursts out laughing, and he’s reminded of the very first time he’d made her laugh; how even then he believed if that was all he ever accomplished in his life, making Pam laugh was the greatest thing he’d ever done and could ever possibly do.

He still believes that to be true, with all of his heart.

It’s funny the way things work out sometimes. When Jim first started at Dunder Mifflin, he’d been restless and unsatisfied, and over the years that feeling had never entirely gone away. But ironically, for the first time since starting this job, he can say with absolute confidence he’s never been more content. 

And now they are leaving.

I really want to do this, Pam had said, and while working at Athlead (Athleap, now, apparently) had been off his mind for months, the delight and conviction on her face has got him excited again, not just for the opportunity to start a new adventure, but to have the chance to do it right this time. Together.

This entire day has been emotionally draining, what with the documentary panel this morning, seeing Michael only to have to say goodbye to him all over again, and Dwight and Angela finally tying the knot. The documentary party's still going strong in the warehouse, but he and the rest of the Dunder Mifflin employees have sought respite upstairs. 

He sits down at his desk, knowing he won’t be doing it for much longer, and picks up his nameplate, turning it over in his hands, remembering when Pam had first given it to him. It had been the very first time they’d touched, their fingers briefly brushing each other, a moment so small and ordinary that had begun their relationship: the most extraordinary thing in his life.

He looks around the office; this stupid, wonderful, boring, amazing office, and feels an incredible urge to simply stay as long as possible, where it’s comfortable, where he’s grounded. 

Where it feels like home.

Strangely, now that he knows for certain this chapter of their story is over, he doesn’t want it to end.

“Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.”

He looks up to reception and catches her eye across the bullpen, an unexpected pang in his heart.

“I’m sorry,” she says, looking him right in the eye. “Jim Halpert doesn’t work here anymore.” 

She gives him a sad sort of smile; resigned, but absolutely content. She hangs up the phone and they lock eyes, both sitting in the exact places they’d been when they started this journey together. There’s so much more in their shared gaze now than there’d been all those years ago, and yet, somehow, they are still exactly the same.

The past is the present and the present is the past, but the future is entirely up to them.

Epilogue

It’s hot in Austin in May, but not uncomfortably so. It’s a welcome change, however, considering all of the upheaval they’ve gone through over the past few weeks. Pam and Jim explore the city for their third day, looking at open houses and getting Jim set up at Athleap. 

The kids are back in Scranton with, believe it or not, Dwight and Angela. After escrow had closed on the house, Dwight insisted the Halperts stay at Schrute Farms until they’d gotten settled. The generous severance package their old boss had given them had afforded them a luxury they desperately needed that they didn’t really have before: time. 

Driving back to their hotel after looking at house number six for the day, Pam reaches out to take Jim’s hand. 

“I really think this is gonna be great, babe.”

“You think so, babe?” he winks.

“I can feel it, babe. And the offices look great.”

“Have you thought about what you want to do out here?” he asks, a little tentatively. 

“Yeah, I have, actually. I was thinking that, at least until we ride out the severance, I could stay at home with the kids?” She looks over at him to gauge his reaction, which is favorable. “I can take my time looking for a job that’s the right fit, finding good childcare, maybe even have some time to do some painting.”

“With Phillip and Cece around?” he laughs. 

“Well, now my husband will be home at five thirty,” she points out. “Every night.”

He nods and squeezes her hand, never again wanting ‘workaholic’ to be a term that describes him. 

“Every night.”

“And after that, who knows?” She grins at him. “Maybe Athleap will need an office administrator.”

“Well, I’m not sure about that, Beesly,” he says with a stoic expression. “What are your qualifications?”

She laughs softly, turning to look out the window. Jim puts his turn signal on, taking a slight detour. 

“The hotel is the other way, honey,” she says, pointing.

“I know. Just one more stop.”

She eyes him dubiously. “Is this another big Jim surprise? I really liked house number four, you know.”

He shrugs. “Let’s just see what happens.”

He pulls into the driveway of a lovely two-story house. It’s contemporary, but warm, and even though it doesn’t look much like the one they had back in Scranton, it feels like it. 

“Looks promising,” Pam muses as she steps out of their rental car. An older woman comes out of the front door, holding a clipboard. 

“Oh, Mr. Halpert, you made it,” she says, slightly frazzled. “Come on in!”

“Lydia, this is my beautiful wife, Pam,” Jim says, guiding her in front of him, his hand at the small of her back. 

Lydia shakes her hand, and ushers them inside. Pam mutters under her breath, “I didn’t know we had a realtor.”

“Have a look around, I’ll be here if you have any questions at all.” 

The realtor sits at the kitchen table and makes herself busy. And Pam immediately notices it’s a great kitchen, with a wide open layout that opens up to a sizable living room. Jim takes her hand and they walk from room to room. He watches her closely, studying her reaction, determined to never let her feel silenced again.

After they’ve walked through, he turns to look at her. “Well, what do you think?”

“It’s great. It’s perfect.” Eyeing him suspiciously, she adds, “You knew I’d love it, so why all the mystery?”

He stops in front of an upstairs bedroom with the double doors closed. “Well, there’s one room you haven’t seen yet.”

“I can hardly imagine it’ll be anything less than fantastic. You did good, babe,” she grins.

He takes a deep breath and opens the doors, revealing the master bedroom. She first notes the beautiful lighting and the enormous windows, but before she has a chance to take a look at the bathroom, Jim heads immediately to the back glass sliding door, which appears to have a balcony. She approaches him, and as he opens the door she notices it’s more than just that.

It’s a terrace. Complete with flower boxes and a table for two. And in the corner, overlooking a view of the city, sits an easel. 

Pam gapes at the scene before her, completely speechless. She walks over to the easel and touches it, looking around. 

Jim lets out a nervous breath. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Jim,” she breathes, completely overwhelmed. “I love it.” 

He puts his hands in his pockets and enjoys this, the happiness on her face that he lives for every day.

“It just went up for sale yesterday. I thought it was great anyway, but when I saw the terrace, I just knew.”

“How did you… set this up? I’ve been with you all day,” she asks, pointing to the easel.

“Lydia. I asked her to help me out.”

“Your realtor did this?”

“What can I say? She likes me,” he grins. “She also knows the owners, and they are apparently very motivated to sell to a family.”

“You can be rather charming, I guess,” she smirks. He can’t help but notice a look of concern flicker across her face. “So… did you already buy it?” 

“Not yet. Never again, Pam. I want to be sure this is what you really want.”

“...Which you knew I would,” she says, raising an eyebrow.

“...Which is why I’ve already filled out all the paperwork making our offer,” he admits. “Lydia has it downstairs. It just needs your signature. So if we want to do this, we have until the end of the day to make that decision.”

She walks over to him and takes his hands in hers. “Together?”

“Together.”

She smiles at him, then looks around the terrace again, still incredibly moved by his gesture.

“I can’t believe you remembered,” she says in a quiet, awed voice.

“You said it’s not a big dream, but it’s your dream,” he says. “It’s important to you. And since we came here for one of mine this time, I think it’s only right you get to have one of yours, too.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Thank you,” she says. “But as far as dreams go, you’ll always be my favorite.”

“Right back at you, Beesly,” he grins.

Pam reaches up and smoothes a piece of hair along his temple. She puts her arms around him and he leans down, kissing her on this terrace: their dream, their future. He closes his eyes and feels it: real happiness. It crashes into him like a wave, and he can feel the two of them drifting along into this next chapter of their lives, together. 

Today has been a good day. Their timing is finally perfect.

She pulls him into an embrace and Jim glances over her shoulder, still searching like a reflex for the obligatory lens pointed at him to make a face, share his triumph. But there’s nothing; no one else here but her. 

He smiles, just fine with that, and holds her closer.

the end