“Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.”

She watches Jim look up from his desk and smile at her. It’s something he does every single time she answers the phone now and she wonders how on earth he’s getting any work done whatsoever. She smiles back, because now that the documentary crew is very much aware of their foray into a romantic relationship, they only have to hide it from their fellow office members. Particularly Michael. And most of them are so oblivious it hasn’t been terribly difficult.

Pam looks at the clock. It’s only 10:13, and she needs another cup of coffee. Having Jim nearby helps, but getting through the day isn’t as easy anymore because the part she’s looking forward to is no longer the workday itself, it’s what happens afterwards.

Just as she’s wondering when and how they can fix that, a familiar IM pops up.

JIM9334> You look really pretty today.

She glances over again at him. He appears to be hard at work, but she somehow doubts that’s the case. 

Receptionitis15> Thanks. Is this your idea of sexting?

JIM9334> No. This is me controlling myself.

They’d agreed to keep everything physical out of the office. Everything. No kissing, no hugging, no touching. Jim had insisted it was to keep their relationship secret, but over the past few weeks she’s become increasingly convinced it’s more of a game to him than anything else. A fun game that usually ends in the two of them being all over each other at the end of the day.

It’s been long enough, and today she decides to up the ante. 

Receptionitis15> I’m bored. Want to play a game?

JIM9334> I’m listening.

Receptionitis15> It’s called “Don’t Get Caught Being a Couple.”

Jim looks up from his computer briefly at her, his expression an adorable mixture of confusion and intrigue. He turns back to his keyboard.

JIM9334> I thought we were already playing that game…?

Receptionitis15> True, but I was thinking more of a little wager.

JIM9334> You have my attention, Beesly. 

Receptionitis15> One point for any kind of PDA, doesn’t matter what it is. Extra point for each person within witnessing distance.

 JIM9334> What do I win when I inevitably score more points than you?

Receptionitis15> My love and affection.

 JIM9334> Try again.

Receptionitis15> Winner buys lunch?

 JIM9334> Okay, you’re on.

Receptionitis15> I’m going on break. See you later.

She closes her IM window, sets the office phone to voicemail. As she passes behind him she gives him a Look that, while not winning her any PDA points, definitely makes her intentions clear.

Five minutes later, he wanders into the break room. Angela is at the front table reading a magazine and doesn’t seem to notice him enter. He plucks a paper cup from the Arrowhead machine and gets some water, making his way over to Pam in the back. 

“Morning,” he says to her casually. “How’s your day going?”

“Good, thanks. Yours?” she asks.

“Pretty good. Filled out some reports, made some sales. The usual.”

Angela scoffs quietly from across the room but doesn’t look up. Pam catches Jim’s eye.

“You want to sit down? I’m just taking my break,” she offers.

“Sure. You don’t mind?”

“Nope.”

He sits next to her. Pam crosses her legs, scoots a teeny bit closer to Jim. 

“Whatcha reading, Angela?” Jim asks, taking a sip from his Dixie cup.

Angela doesn’t look up. “It’s rude to ask people what they’re reading,” she says.

Jim nods at Pam with his standard bemused expression. Angela has never been the most pleasant person to be around, but lately she's been downright awful, and they've both noticed. As he takes another sip from his cup, she ever so slightly stretches her leg out, hooking her toes behind his calf. Angela isn’t watching, so for good measure, she rubs her foot up and down a couple times. Jim cocks his head, impressed. She mouths the word “two” at him.

“Did you watch Friday Night Lights last night?” Jim asks her.

“Oh, of course,” she responds. “I have such a huge crush on Tim Riggins.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” 

“It’s the hair, I think. It’s really… floppy.”

“I didn’t know you liked floppy haired guys,” he says with a smirk.

She shrugs. “Some of them.”

Jim moves his hand behind Pam, between her back and the chair. She can feel his heat near her, so close, moving lower, and when he softly palms the small of her back she slightly exhales. 

“Hey Angela, have you seen that show?” Jim asks. Pam flinches away from his hand as Angela looks up, annoyed.

“I hate football.”

“Oh, well, you know, it’s really not about the-”

“No.” She flips a page, irritated, and looks back down.

Pam eases back into Jim’s hand, realizing this is easier than she thought it might be. Just then, Phyllis walks into the break room and very clearly clocks the position of Jim’s hand.

“Oh,” she says in her tiny voice. Jim quickly retracts. Pam scoots away. Angela turns around.

“Phyllis, did you call corporate about that missing account?” she snaps. 

“I was gonna do it before lunch,” Phyllis replies. 

Angela looks at her watch. “It’s almost 10:30. What time do you usually eat lunch?”

Pam decides to take advantage of the extra points available with the new arrival. She quickly reaches underneath the table to squeeze Jim’s thigh, then slowly drags her hand back, and back, and back...

“Well, I’d better get back to work,” Jim suddenly yelps before she can get any further, standing up so quickly his chair falls over.

“Are you sure?” Pam asks sweetly. “You just sat down.”

“Just, uh… wanted some water,” he says. His cheeks are red and Pam grins triumphantly. “And, uh… I got it.” He holds up the cup and drops it into the trash can. “All right. See you guys later.”

He smiles way too widely and makes eye contact with Pam as Angela and Phyllis watch him, slightly bewildered. No one but Jim sees her hold up five fingers and mouth the word “five.”

Pam waits a few more minutes, chats with Phyllis. Then she gets up and walks back to her desk. There’s an IM waiting for her. 

JIM9334> That was just cruel.

Receptionitis15> It’s 5-2. I came to play.

JIM9334> Alright. You asked for it, Beesly.

She looks up at him and he’s got that look in his eye she’s far more used to seeing in his bedroom lately. She’s a little concerned. Mostly excited. 

An hour passes without anything happening. Jim seems to have gone back to work, and she takes enough calls and sends enough faxes for their little game to have moved to the back of her mind. She wonders if he’s genuinely busy or if he’s just lulling her into a false sense of security.

Around 11:30, she decides to get him a soda, mostly because she just misses him. As she’s pulling it out of the machine he’s suddenly behind her, behaving completely normally. 

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey.”

She hands it to him. “I got you one.”

“Oh wow, thank you,” he says. “I’m just gonna grab some chips, you want some?”

“No, thanks,” she responds. His completely casual manner makes her wonder if he's forgotten all about their game, or if he's only messing with her. It's Jim, so it's probably the latter. She isn’t sure what the status of their bet is, but she hopes it hasn’t interfered with their plans. “Uh… we’re still having lunch today, right?”

“I guess,” he mock-grumbles, and even though she’s beating him, even though he hasn’t given her any indication he’s still playing, she can’t resist stealing another point. She walks up and gives him a quick peck on his cheek. There’s no one in the break room but it’s the most daring either of them have been thus far. 

“How dare you,” he says, pointing at her with a smirk. 

6-2, is what she thinks as she smirks back at him.

They’re standing at the back of the dojo, wrapped up in their own little world. She doesn’t even know what they’re doing and it doesn’t matter. He makes a joke about love lines, she bops his nose with a boxing glove and scores a point for… something. It’s just what they do. 

“One point for me.”

He taps her playfully on her head. “Tied up.”

“Oh, you’re dead.”

“What are you gonna do?” he chuckles. “Bring it, Beesly.”

Suddenly they’re fighting, just play-fighting, and they’re laughing and he’s holding her and she likes it, she likes being held by him. She’s ashamed to admit it to herself but it’s true. It’s just a tiny split second of her day when someone is paying her attention, and the fact that it’s Jim makes her feel comfortable. 

Comfortable for now, but then the eyes of onlookers slap her out of that little world. When it’s no longer just her and Jim, it’s wrong and bad and not the way an engaged woman should be behaving.

“Put me down, hey! Put me down!”

She doesn’t turn around as she walks away from him but she knows him well enough to know exactly how his face looks. Hurt, embarrassed, confused. She’s pissed, but not at Jim for crossing a line; she’s pissed at herself for allowing it. 

Why did she allow it?

She avoids him for the rest of the day and she wants to tell herself it’s his fault but it isn’t. There’s something between them, it’s always been there. Playing around with Jim is playing with fire and it’s her own fault she signs up for the game every time. 

He can’t even look her in the eye when he goes home but he leaves her the chips he’d promised. French onion, even. He remembered because he’s Jim and of course he did. She’d held up her end of the bargain, but it’s more of a peace offering. It’s an uneasy peace, however, and things still feel unresolved. Maybe they always will. 

She sits alone in the break room and eats the chips before she goes home. It feels illicit for some reason. 

It’s her first fight with Jim, and even though it's not much at all, it feels worse than it ever has with Roy.

The clock on the wall is approaching lunch time, and the office has that comforting sound of actual work getting done. Computer keys tapping, phones ringing. Gentle voices selling paper. Pam enjoys it; anytime the office is free of some interruption by Michael it’s remarkably soothing.

Just as she comfortably resigns herself to having won their little bet, Jim appears next to her, bending down over her shoulder, looking at her screen.

“Five of hearts, right there,” he says, pointing. “How’d you miss that one?”

Pam glares at him. “Just a fluke. I’m really, really good at games.”

“Hmm,” he nods. Then, without warning, “Oops, dropped my pen.” He deliberately tosses a ballpoint near her feet. Before she can protest he is down on all fours, moving her chair aside, crawling underneath her desk.

Oh my god.

Dwight looks up at the slight disturbance, then back at his paperwork. Phyllis and Stanley are working quietly, Andy is trimming his nose hairs with a mirror. Creed and Meredith haven’t so much as moved. She then feels the tip of Jim’s finger running up the inside of her leg.

“Jim…” she warns, sotto voce.

Suddenly Kevin and Oscar appear right in front of her desk. “How’s it going, Pam?” Oscar asks.

She panics. Reflexively she slams her legs together, crushing Jim’s head between them. He yelps just loudly enough to be heard.

“Pretty good. You guys need something…?” she asks, her voice high-pitched and weird.

“What was that noise?” Oscar asks, looking Pam directly in the eye. She shrugs.

“Can I have a jelly bean?” Kevin asks. Pam nods, looks back over to Oscar. Jim backs off a bit, but apparently has no intention of relenting. He readjusts his hands to grip her calves, sliding them up higher and higher until his fingers are just at the edge of her skirt.

He wouldn’t dare...

“Wasn’t Jim just over here?” Kevin asks, shoving three jelly beans into his mouth.

“Oh, he’s uh… I think he went outside.”

Jim’s hands have now practically hiked her skirt all the way up past her knees; she has no choice but to pull her chair even closer to him to attempt to obscure it. 

“Oh? I bet he did,” Kevin says, nodding with a broad smile. “I bet he’ll be back.” He turns to wink not-so-subtly at Oscar, and Oscar stares at Pam knowingly. 

She can feel Jim’s breath between her legs and for a moment she’s legitimately concerned he’s going to attempt the unthinkable right here in the office, eighteen inches from Kevin and Oscar. Part of her wants to kick him, but the part of her that’s new, the part of her that’s bold and confident and in love is dying to see what he’ll do next.

Thankfully, he plants a single soft kiss on the inside of her knee, then slowly pulls her skirt back down. It seems even Jim wouldn't be so brazen surrounded by the Dunder Mifflin crew. Still, the idea of what might have happened has entered her mind and her eyelids feel heavy, her breathing a bit erratic. She’s absolutely certain her face is a shade of red neither of her coworkers has ever seen, and while she’s slightly mortified, she’s also extremely impressed with Jim’s play.

Pam gives Oscar a stilted nod and Kevin a tight smile. “Don’t you need to send a fax, Kevin?” Oscar asks pointedly.

“Yes,” he says in a very rehearsed manner. “I need to send this very important fax right now. And I need to do it myself.” 

To Pam’s horror, Kevin begins to walk around her desk. Just when she’s certain the jig is up, by the grace of God (and she would never think so in any other similar circumstance) Michael comes out of his office.

“Everybody listen up!” he yells across the bullpen. Kevin stops in his tracks and turns to look. “Jan’s birthday is coming up and I need everyone’s best ideas for the perfect gift! Go!” Nine faces are turned towards their boss, always somewhat grateful for the distraction regardless of the inevitable disruption his announcements tend to cause.

No one, however, is more grateful than Pam, as she nudges Jim a little harder than she should. He crawls out from beneath her and stands up holding the pen, hair tousled, victory etched across his smug face. Distracted by Michael’s antics, no one notices him lean down and whisper into Pam’s ear.

“Twelve to six. Your move, Beesly.”

***

It’s been a pretty good day.

After Toby’s PDA memo goes around and they are officially outed, a weight is lifted off both their shoulders. Hiding has been fun, but they don’t have to do it anymore, and just knowing that has moved their relationship into a new level.

Pam shuts down her computer at 5:00, prepared to head out of the office and wait for Jim halfway down the street per their usual routine, but as she gets up to leave, he’s standing next to the coat rack, pulling down her aquamarine coat. 

“Ready?” he asks her, holding her coat open. 

Out of pure habit, she glances surreptitiously around the office. No one is looking, but she realizes it doesn’t even matter anymore.

Her lips curve into a smile as she turns around, allowing him to help her into her coat. He takes his time; carefully fixing her collar, making sure her hair isn’t being crushed. Sliding his hands along her shoulders. It’s gentlemanly and boyfriend-y and she’s a complete sap for it. 

Phyllis turns around and gives them a coy smile. “Good night, you two.” Andy looks up as well with a goofy grin and a thumbs up. Dwight is diverted but only long enough to roll his eyes. Michael, obviously having been waiting for their precise moment of departure, pokes his head out.

Grinning from ear to ear, he walks up to them, letting out a huge, contented sigh. “Look at you two. Such a cute couple. Second cutest couple in the office.”

Pam indulges him, because despite his awkwardness, she knows he’s truly happy for them. “Thanks, Michael.” 

“Right after me and Jan.”

“Got that.” 

“You guys leaving?” he asks, wide-eyed. “What are you doing tonight? Want to come over and hang out with us? A couple of couples just hanging out? What do you say?” 

Jim shakes his head slightly. “Sorry, we already have plans.” He turns to her and gallantly holds his hand out. “Pam?”

She looks around, feeling an unusual fondness for all of her coworkers, even Michael. It’s out, it’s done. They’re no longer just Jim, or just Pam. They’re Jim and Pam now. It feels right.

She takes Jim’s hand, squeezes it. They look at each other for what feels like only a moment but it’s long enough to hear a slight sniffle coming from Michael, who is grinning from ear to ear.

“Good night, everybody,” she calls back over her shoulder as they walk out together hand in hand. They don’t let go until they reach the car.