It’s dark out, and the Pennsylvania night air is chilly. They climb up to the roof to escape the hostage situation that’s brewing below, but mostly because it probably would have been their plan anyway. He’s relieved they’ve gone public, but it doesn’t change the fact that he prefers having her all to himself.

Jim drags two lawn chairs from their hiding spot behind the stairwell door, and situates them just so, so that he and Pam can look out across the street. She hands him a plate of pizza and they sit, quietly at first, perhaps both remembering the snap fizzle of Dwight’s impromptu fireworks display the last time they were up here.

She sighs, pulling a blanket across her lap. “I can’t believe these chairs are still up here. Feels like forever ago.”

She doesn’t intend it, surely, but her words are loaded. He doesn’t like to think about all the evenings they could have been up here if they’d both been braver.

“That night was technically our first date,” he points out. “I’m standing by that.”

She narrows her eyes. “I don’t know, Jim, I kind of liked our actual first date. A lot.”

The memory flashes through his mind: hearing her finally confess her love for him, pushing her up against the brick wall of that restaurant, their lips pressed together in sweet relief. Finally sharing the freedom to show each other how they truly felt. Yeah, that was a pretty perfect first date.

“Oh, me too,” he agrees. “But facts are facts, Pam.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Does it really count if I was engaged?” 

“Absolutely it does.”

“Okay then, sell it to me. Because I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Well, I’ve given this some thought,” he muses. “At the time I think I agreed with you, that it didn’t count because you were with someone else. That it was a one-sided date. But lately I’ve changed my mind.”

“And why is that, exactly?”

He gets serious, looks her right in the eye. “Because now I know you had feelings for me, too.” 

He’d convinced himself in some of his lowest moments that the reason she’d gotten defensive when he called their rooftop dinner a date was because he’d overstepped. It hadn’t really occurred to him at the time her reaction might have been a way to mask her own true feelings.

She nods. Fair enough, he can see written across her face. “I guess you’re right about that.” 

“Besides,” he continues, “the only prerequisite for a date is to be alone and attracted to each other.”

She shakes her head. “No, you need a meal. Or at least drinks.”

“Well, we had that.”

Pam chuckles, takes a bite of her pizza. “Wonder bread, a couple slices of cheese, and a microwave,” she grins.

“Hey, I used the toaster too!” he pouts.

“Your grilled cheese is very good, Jim.” 

“Only the best for my girl.”

There’s a familiar glint in her eyes that he knows means she’s only being playful; that it meant the world to her then just as it does now. A year ago, however, that glint was exactly the same, and as happens frequently nowadays, he wonders if it actually was.

“Do you know when you started thinking about me as more than just a friend?” he asks. 

She swallows her bite. “You mean, like… the exact moment I knew I liked you liked you?”

“Yes.”

She sits back a bit. The metal bars of the lawn chair creak. “Do you?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, you tell me yours first.”

He shrugs. “Okay.” He already knows the moment. He’s thought about it frequently.

His interview had gone well. The boss is a bit much, but what boss isn’t? It’s a good, stable job that will get him out of his parents’ house and propel him into independence. And paper shouldn’t be a hard thing to sell. Everyone loves paper. Everyone needs paper.

His mom offers to iron his shirt for him, which he refuses. She makes him scrambled eggs and wishes him luck. “Have a great first day,” she says. 

“First day of the rest of my life?” he asks with a grin, parroting one of her oft-used mantras back at her. 

He has no idea how right he is.

Jim pulls into the parking lot of his new job, takes the elevator to the third floor, and when he rounds the corner he sees her for the first time.

Her.

“Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.” 

Pam. Pam. She hadn't been here when he came for his interview, and he wonders why. But it doesn't matter. She’s the first person he sees, the first face he will see every day when he comes to work. And she has a nice face. Jim doesn’t have a type, never really has, but there’s something about her he’s drawn to instantly. 

She catches his eye and holds a finger up, ‘wait a second.’ 

“Yes, he’ll be available at eleven thirty. Yes. I’ll have him call you back, thanks.” She picks up a pen and writes down a message, hangs up the phone, and turns her attention back to Jim. For the first time he looks into her eyes. They’re beautiful. “Hi, can I help you?”

“Yeah, um… hi, I’m Jim. I’m new here?” He’s stuttering, practically. What the fuck? Where has his ability to speak gone? “Jim.. Halpert. It’s... my first day?” He can feel his cheeks turning pink. 

“Oh, right!” she says. She gets up and walks around the front of the desk, her eyes on the bullpen. She seems to be looking across the room at someone, something, and as she comes up beside him she leans in closely, just barely touching his forearm. 

"I have to warn you, Jim Halpert,” she says quietly, with the tiniest smile, and he swears at this moment everything else around them goes completely silent. “Enjoy this moment, because you're never going to go back to this time before you met your desk mate Dwight.” 

His lips curve into a smile of his own. “Who is that?”

“He’s…” she shakes her head, and in a perfect deadpan: “Beyond explanation.”

His smile morphs into an even bigger one, stretching from ear to ear, and that feeling comes over him of having found a real, true friend. He instantly trusts her assessment of this person he’s never laid eyes on. “Thanks. I’m slightly terrified, I have to admit.” 

And then she laughs. It’s just a small one, a tiny giggle, but his heart suddenly feels different, like her words and her smile and her laugh are filling up empty space there he didn’t even realize existed. He can’t explain it, but in this moment he decides making Pam the receptionist laugh is the greatest thing he’s ever done and will ever do. He wants to do it again as soon as possible.

She leads him to his desk, and he thanks his lucky stars it’s right next to hers.

“Hey, Dwight?” she says.

The guy at the desk across from his looks up. He’s serious in a rather intense way, and Jim pegs him instantly as a no-nonsense, no-fun kind of guy. 

“This is Jim, the new sales associate,” Pam says. 

“Hello,” Dwight says with a dubious look on his face. “Are you from another paper company?”

Jim eyes Pam, who shrugs. “Um. No?” he says. “Sort of new to the whole… paper industry.”

“But you’re in sales?” Dwight asks, skeptical.

Jim had sort of stretched the truth with Michael Scott in his interview; he hadn’t had a real sales job before, although he’d helped out at his dad’s sporting goods store as a teenager. 

“I’m the top salesman at Scranton,” Dwight continues. “I’m sure you’ll learn a lot from me.”

Jim nods, unsure of how to respond. Pam jumps in. “Jim’s actually being modest, he came from Hammermill. He was their top salesman last year.” 

The ease with which she delivers this lie makes him think it isn’t the first time she’s done so with Dwight. She briefly glances at Jim and winks at him, and, incredibly impressed, he finds himself wondering if she’s single. 

Oh, no.

Dwight, indignant, glares at Jim. “Oh. Well, I suppose you know what you’re doing, then.”

“Welcome to Dunder Mifflin, Jim,” Pam beams. “Oh, I almost forgot!”

She bounces back over to her desk to grab something, and as she does, he takes note of what she’s wearing; a simple gray skirt, a white collared shirt, and a pale pink cardigan. She presents the forgotten item to him: his nameplate. The sight of her holding the name “Jim Halpert” in her hand is an odd comfort. He takes it, and when he does their fingers touch. It’s electric and he wonders if she feels it, too.

“I’m Pam, by the way,” she says, as if he could forget. He nods sort of crazily, but she doesn’t seem to notice his nerves as she turns and heads back to her desk. He sits, but mostly because his legs have gone a bit wobbly due to his rapidly progressing crush on this girl.

The first couple hours of the day go by pretty quickly; he actually makes a sale, Dwight glowering at him from across the desk. Michael screens an orientation video entitled “The Scranton Witch Project” which is - as many things today are - beyond explanation. But he spends most of his time stealing glances at the cute receptionist. He can’t help it, he’s absolutely smitten. 

At noon, she stands up and walks around her desk, brushing past him with a smile. She smells amazing. He watches her disappear into the break room, and as he’s been waiting all morning for another opportunity to talk to her, he figures there’s no time like the present. So he waits a reasonable few minutes, then stands up and follows her. 

She’s sitting at the back table with an older woman with short, curly brown hair. He recognizes her from the next desk over, but they’d only exchanged brief hellos this morning. The other woman smiles politely at Jim. She seems to have a sweet, motherly vibe. 

“Hi, Jim,” Pam says. He feels a slight thrill that she remembered his name. “This is Phyllis. Phyllis, Jim. She’s a salesperson too.”

He waves. “Hi.”

He sits at the next table over from them with his ham and cheese sandwich, giving them space.

“So, Jim, what’s your story? Are you single?” Phyllis asks coyly. 

Jim, somewhat shocked at the forwardness of the question, cocks his head a bit. “Wow, you jump right in there, don’t you, Phyllis?” 

He thinks Pam is blushing, just a tiny bit, but her smile is brighter than the fluorescents above them and he hopes more than wonders if she’d possibly put Phyllis up to it.

“Uh… yes, actually, I am,” he answers. “Why, are you looking?” 

Phyllis grins at him, playing along. “You’re a little young for me. Although I’ve definitely had some cougar days in my time.” Jim’s eyebrows fly practically to the ceiling. So much for the motherly vibe. 

Phyllis looks down at her salad and he catches Pam’s eye, exchanging surprised looks like they’ve known each other for years. It’s so natural and comfortable; he’s dying to ask her the same question but he chickens out. 

They all chat for a few minutes about Dunder Mifflin, tell a couple of stories about their boss Michael. Pam’s story is so ridiculous he wonders if she’s making it up. Then with very little warning, Phyllis scoops up her trash, deposits it into the garbage bin, and heads back to her desk. Jim almost swears she winks at him. Suddenly he and Pam are alone in the room.

She takes a bite of her Yoplait and grins at him, one arm crossed in front of her on the table, slightly hunched over. He can’t quite put his finger on what it is, but he’s completely enamored of this unassuming receptionist in a way he’s never quite experienced before. It’s so overwhelming he’s finding it difficult to summon up anything to say. 

“...So,” he attempts.

“So.”

“What’s with Dwight?” he finally asks. “What was that all about earlier?”

“Oh,” she shakes her head, smiling. “It’s just fun to mess with him, you know? He’s a little much.”

“Yeah, I noticed that,” Jim grins. “I guess I’d better live up to my reputation. Hammermill’s best salesman, was it?”

She laughs. He decides it’s his favorite sound in the world. “Sorry, I’m sure he’ll do a complete background check on you now.”

“Are you serious?”

She nods. “He’s a volunteer Sheriff’s deputy. Has a plastic badge and everything. Hope you haven’t committed any crimes or anything.”

His eyes widen and they share another laugh. “Fortunately, I’m clean as a whistle.”

She smiles and goes back to her yogurt. They share a slightly awkward silence. The room, however, is thick with an undeniable energy. He wants to ask her out so badly but knows it’s way too soon. She finally breaks the silence.

“So... how’s your first day going so far?”

She’s looking him right in the eye and he feels dazed, practically loopy. The nerves in his stomach are intense and he’s warm everywhere; his heart is beating out of his chest and he’s genuinely worried she can somehow see it.  He tries to memorize everything about her he can: the color of her eyes, the little crinkle in her nose, the tiny pearl pendant around her neck. It’s a moment, a definite moment.

“Really, really great,” he says. It’s close to the truth, which would be ‘perfect.’

After they’ve gazed at each other for a few seconds, she takes a sip of her soda, looking a little shy. It’s a bit of an abrupt change from her playful demeanor all morning. Then he hears someone enter the break room behind him.

“So, how did you end up working here?” he asks her, not turning around.

“Oh, well...” she says, looking up at the arrival in the break room. “My, uh… fiancé actually works in the warehouse.”

His body freezes; his heart drops into his stomach like a chunk of lead.

Fiancé.

“Roy, this is Jim,” she says to the guy walking in. Jim turns around to see a beefy guy striding towards them, slightly threatening, but also fairly unbothered. He nods briefly at Jim, barely registering his presence.

“Hey baby, do you have ten bucks? I forgot my lunch and the food truck’s downstairs.”

“Oh, um… yeah, at my desk, in my purse,” she says, stilted. “You don’t have your wallet?”

“Think I left it in my other pants.” He leans down and kisses her, right there in the break room, right in front of Jim. He feels his heart crack in two and now he knows, positively knows he’s got it bad for this woman. And apparently he’s much too late.

“You want anything?” Roy asks Pam brusquely, on his way back out of the room.

“I’m good, thanks,” she says, gesturing at her almost-finished sandwich.

“Cool. Later, man,” he says, finally acknowledging Jim. All Jim can do is nod and give a slight wave. And then he’s gone.

He and Pam are alone again, but now everything has changed. She’s no longer something he can reach for, someone he can hope for. She is engaged. Almost as quickly as he’d thanked his lucky stars before, he wants to curse them.

“He seems… nice,” Jim offers. He can’t think of anything else to say.

She seems to take his comment as sarcasm, which he finds interesting. She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Yeah, well… that’s Roy,” she says. “Sometimes it feels like he never really left high school, you know?” She then smiles, as if she finds this objectively unattractive trait somewhat endearing. 

Pam stands up, having finished her lunch. She drops her trash into the bin, and for the first time he sees it: the engagement ring on her finger. He feels stupid for not having noticed it sooner, or even thinking about checking for one. He’s immediately curious how long they’ve been together, what exactly their situation is. Maybe it won’t work out between them, he tells himself. He feels slightly terrible for thinking it but his affection for her is outweighing everything else as he feels the hope he’d previously extinguished inexplicably ascending within his chest once again.

“See you later,” she says. “Put Dwight to shame today, okay?”

“Will do.”

She smiles at him, and he smiles back, and then she’s gone. He sits alone in the break room and thinks of what he said to his mom this morning about it being the first day of the rest of his life. A couple of hours ago he had no idea this person existed and now, regardless of her relationship status, he can’t wait to come into the office again tomorrow just to see her.

When he gets home, his mom is sitting on the couch, reading. She looks up. “Well, how was it?”

He grins, and nods with a satisfied look of approval. 

“First day of the rest of my life.” 

Pam looks at him adoringly, the sounds of faraway traffic cutting through the silent evening.

“...And that's when I knew,” Jim says. “You?” 

She looks down at her lap with a smirk. “You came up to my desk, and said 'this might sound weird, and there's no reason for me to know this, but that mixed berry yogurt you're about to eat has expired.'” 

Jim balks a bit. “That was the moment that you knew you liked me?” 

She gives him a soft, gentle, earnest smile. “Yep.”

He thinks, trying to remember when exactly it was he’d said that. He’d very quickly picked up on her routines, her habits. Her likes, dislikes. He’d paid attention. Sometimes he’d get weirdly happy just looking at the row of yogurts in the office fridge, knowing she put them there.

“Wow,” he replies, unsure of how to react to her obviously having noticed his over-the-top attention. “Can we make it a different moment?” 

She shakes her head. “Nope.”

“You didn’t find that a little creepy?” he asks. “Me studying your yogurts?”

“Not at all,” she replies. “I actually found it sweet.”

He shrugs, a bit embarrassed. “I guess I like to think I was charming, even at my most pathetic.”

“Jim, stop. I never, ever thought that. And would never think that about you.”

“It’s nice of you to say, but I really did feel that way sometimes.”

She picks up her chair and scoots it closer to him so they are touching. She reaches out to take his hand.

“I prefer to think of it as ‘hopelessly in love,’” she grins. “Which is, I must say, an incredibly attractive quality.”

“Thanks.” He brings her hand to his lips and kisses it. “So, what do you think now? Did I sell it? Was the rooftop our first date?”

She seems to acquiesce. “I’ll consider it half a date.” 

“Half?”

She shrugs playfully. “Facts are facts, Jim.”

He thinks for a moment, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out his new iPhone. He scrolls a bit, makes a selection, then puts the phone back. Tom Petty begins to play from his pocket.

He stands up, holds out his hand. “Then the other half we can have right now.”

She grins, taking his hand, standing and letting him pull her close. She puts her arms around his neck and they don’t just sway; they dance, really dance this time. 

“Here comes my girl…”

She rests her head against his chest and it’s as if the contact alone causes his heart to pound harder. Closing his eyes he tries to transport himself back to that night they stood in front of Dunder Mifflin and swayed together as they listened to music, living in that moment, in love with each other and neither knowing it. 

Now they both know it. 

She sighs happily. “Well, you’ve convinced me,” she says softly into his shirt. “Now this is a real date.”

“There’s one thing we’re missing, actually,” he decides.

She pulls back and looks up at him. “What’s that?”

He grins, tilts his head a bit and smiles. The fall air surrounds them but cannot penetrate their little bubble as he gently moves a blowing strand of hair out of her eyes, leans down, and kisses her half a decade deep.