Jim pulls into the driveway, puts the car into park, and shuts off the engine. He turns to look at Pam, who pulls down the visor to fix her hair.

“You ready?” she asks, applying lip gloss and then flipping the visor back up.

“Yep.” 

It’s been a few weeks since they’ve visited Pam’s parents. While they've always liked Jim, he can’t help but feel a tiny twinge of guilt every time he sees them that he’d been the one responsible for derailing their daughter’s life in such a huge way. He’s not sure how to ever make up for that, except to do right by Pam. Luckily that’s always been his plan anyway.

“Feeling good today?” she asks, reaching down to pick up the bottle of wine they’d brought.

“About your parents? Sure.” 

“No, I mean about work,” she clarifies. “I mean about Ryan.”

Jim heaves a sigh. A couple of years ago Ryan wasn’t even on his radar at all, and now the slimy douchebag is apparently trying to get rid of him. He’s not exactly sure what triggered the ex-temp’s vendetta against him, but he supposes it could be a number of things: going over his head with David Wallace, dating not one, but two different women Ryan had been interested in. Whatever it is has certainly left a mark, because Ryan doesn’t seem to be easing up on him any time soon.

Things changed yesterday on that golf course, however. For the first time in years he’d felt a fire within him; an eagerness to do better. Mr. Maguire had told him “It’s just not in the stars, Jim,” but his words had only emboldened him. There is, in fact, something in the stars: him and Pam. He wouldn’t give up on that, even if it meant literally throwing his body in front of the man’s car. Which he then did.

“I feel much better,” he answers her. “That sale was huge. Even if Ryan wants to go after me, this will buy me some time, at least.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. It continues to amaze him that whenever she touches him all of his worries just seem to fade away.

“I’m really proud of you,” she says. “I know it’s not exactly what you like to hear, but you really are a great salesman.”

He grins. “Thanks.” As long as he’s at Dunder Mifflin, he wants to make her proud of him. For now, it feels good, and that’s what matters.

“Do you realize our anniversary is in a couple weeks?” she asks. “My god, time has flown.”

He does realize that; in fact, he has some pretty huge plans for their anniversary. Plans that involve the engagement ring currently gathering dust inside his bedside table. Tonight, however, is going to be a special night too. Pam doesn’t know it, but he has every intention of making her parents aware of those plans.

“I can’t believe I’ve put up with you for an entire year,” he says. “It’s been… just awful.”

She playfully punches him in the shoulder, then they gather their things and make their way to the front door. Helene and William Beesly greet them, giving hugs all around. Pam’s mom immediately carts her off towards the kitchen, and her father claps Jim on the back.

“Good to see you, Jim,” he says. “Especially without those damn cameras.”

Jim winces. “Yeah… sorry about that,” he says. “I keep wondering when we’re going to be boring enough for them to leave us alone.”

“How’s my daughter doing?”

“She’s great,” he replies, and is fairly certain he’s correct about that. “Actually, I, uh…” he cranes his neck to make sure Pam and Helene are well out of earshot. “...I'd like to talk to you privately about something, if that's okay.”

“Sure, son,” William says. “Let’s head into the backyard and grab a couple cigars.”

Jim nods, unfamiliar with the act of smoking cigars but prepared to do whatever Pam’s dad requests. They sit on the back patio, light up the cigars, and William looks at Jim expectantly. He wonders if the man knows exactly what he’s here to do.

“So,” William begins. “What is it you’d like to talk about, Jim?”

Jim grins tightly, the nerves rolling in slowly like evening tide. “Well, Mr. Beesly…” he starts, but her father puts a hand up. 

“Please, call me William,” he says. Good start, Jim thinks, nodding.

“Well, as you know, Pam and I have been dating for almost a year now,” Jim says. He feels like throwing up. Turns out doing this is more nerve wracking than the proposal itself. At least he has some confidence in what Pam’s answer would be. “I’m… well, I’m planning... to ask her to marry me. And I was hoping to get your blessing.”

The older man looks at Jim with an expression on his face that’s somewhat unreadable. Is it shock? Confusion? Disappointment? Please, don’t be disappointment. Whatever it is, he suddenly has a terrible feeling this isn’t going to go as he’d hoped.

William takes a long puff of his cigar, then turns to Jim. “I have to tell you, Jim,” he says, and Jim’s heart begins to drop. “You’re not the first man to ask Pammy to marry him.”

Jim decides he’d rather drop into the floor right now and completely disappear than continue this conversation. He should have waited until the evening was over. Fuck, he shouldn’t have done this at all. It’s a stupid tradition. What was he thinking?

“But,” William continues, “you are the first man to ask me for my blessing.” He looks at Jim and smiles, and Jim heaves a sigh of relief, a huge weight lifting. Thank God.

He’d always known Roy was a bit of an ass, so this revelation doesn’t really surprise him, but he finds himself somewhat thrilled that Pam’s ex had inadvertently made him look even better to her father.

William turns to look at Jim. “I never told my daughter this, but that relationship never sat right with me,” he reveals. 

Jim isn’t sure what to say, but he figures honesty is the best policy at this point. Especially since he agrees with the man. “Well, obviously you know my feelings on that,” he chuckles. “But I never really apologized for the way… all of that… went down.” He doesn’t want to ruin the moment but this feels important. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says, to Jim’s immense relief. “I spoke with Pam’s mother before she called it all off, and she indicated that, well… let’s just say she wasn’t too surprised.”

Jim sits quietly, listening. He’s dying to know more, but he doesn’t want to push. How much had Pam told her mother about what actually happened? 

“I was surprised, myself,” William admits. “But I was also relieved. Calling off that wedding was the wisest decision my daughter has ever made, and I was proud of her for having the guts to do it. So there’s no need to apologize, Jim.”

Jim is stunned speechless. 

William puts out the cigar, turns to look at his future son-in-law. “She just never seemed very happy when they were here together. And the reason I’m coming to that realization now is… well, because of you, Jim.”

“What do you mean?”

Pam’s dad looks him right in the eye. “I can say, without a doubt, that I’ve never seen her happier than when she’s with you. And really, what more can a father ask for?”

Jim exhales an audible sigh of relief. “I’m really glad to hear you say that. Because…” he shakes his head. “I feel so incredibly lucky that she wants to be with me. And I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make her happy, always.”

Pam’s father regards him with a peculiar look in his eye; Jim can’t quite place it, but something makes him think it isn’t necessarily about him and Pam. “I know you will,” he says softly. Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the expression is gone.

Jim’s cigar smolders in his hand. He hasn’t yet taken a puff, but now it feels appropriate. He then lets out another huge sigh of relief, which, coupled with a mouthful of cigar smoke, leads to an unexpected coughing fit. William claps him on the back again, laughing. 

“So when are you planning on doing it?” he asks. “Or is that a secret?”

“I’m not sure exactly how, but very soon,” Jim says, his eyes slightly watering from the smoke. “I was thinking maybe on our anniversary.”

Just then the sliding glass door opens, and Pam and her mom join them on the patio. 

“What are you guys doing out here?” Pam asks, approaching them.

“Just… guy talk,” Jim grins with a shrug. Pam narrows her eyes. He suspects she probably knows exactly what they’ve been doing out here.

“Well, I wanted to share something with you guys, since you’re all here. See how you feel about it,” Pam says. Her mother sits down next to her father. Jim cocks his head to the side, wondering what Pam is about to announce.

“As you all know, I’ve been taking art classes for awhile,” she begins. “Well, we were at the job fair at my old high school yesterday for work, and it got me thinking… I’d like to finally pursue it. For real. I think it’s a good time to explore that. What do you guys think?”

Jim feels his eyebrows leap skyward, and a surge of pride blooms in his chest. “Really?”

“I was looking into it a bit yesterday and it seems like if I get some basic graphic design courses under my belt, I could have the tools to maybe do this, you know. As a real job.” She looks at Jim hopefully.

“Beesly!” he exclaims. “That’s awesome!” He gets up to hug her, and while the vast majority of him is filled with pride and support and encouragement, he can’t deny there’s a tiny part that feels slightly envious. His triumph at the golf course notwithstanding, even the success of a job well done doesn’t quite have the same luster of pursuing one’s dream.

“Sweetheart, that sounds great,” Helene says. “Which schools have you looked into?”

“Well, just a few,” she explains. “The best ones are in New York and Philadelphia, which are both a couple hours drive away from here. But I’m thinking maybe Pratt, in New York, is my favorite.”

“Does this… mean you’ll have to move to New York?” Jim says, posing the obvious question.

“I’m not sure, I really haven’t done a lot of research yet.” She turns to look at Jim. “I’m just… thinking about it right now, you know? I wanted to hear what you guys have to say.”

Pam’s parents both give their encouragement, but Jim can tell Pam cares mostly about his opinion on the matter. They haven’t discussed this as an option since before they were even a couple, before he left for Stamford, when she’d given him a resounding no. So what’s changed?

He wants to ask her, but doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable in front of her parents. So, saving those questions for another day, he simply grins, puts his arm around her shoulders, and pulls her in tight.

“I think… it’s amazing,” he says. “You’re amazing. And if this is what you really want to do, I’m with you a hundred percent.”

Just before Pam throws her arms around him he sees a brief look of relief in her eyes, and he can’t help but wonder how many times Roy had held her back in the past. He knows this moment is about her, but it does give him a sense of satisfaction that the reason she’s doing this now is because she’s with him, and not some other guy who refuses to see her potential.

He catches her father's eye over Pam’s shoulder, and immediately wonders where this leaves his plan to propose. Surely Pam will be gone for an indeterminate amount of time now. He’s put it off for months because, despite his own certainty Pam is the one, he wouldn’t have wanted to freak her out with his over-exuberance. He’d already been caught inventorying her yogurts over the years, after all. He’d told himself to play it cool, that a year sounded right. 

Now he isn’t quite sure when it will be exactly right.

She pulls away from him, her eyes sparkling, and she smiles in a way that reminds him of why he fell in love with her in the first place. She is happy. And for the very first time, he sees it the way her father does. 

They’re at Pam’s this morning, which has been relatively rare. They usually end up staying at his place, since it’s closer to the office and a bit bigger. But there’s something about Pam’s new apartment that he absolutely loves. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but maybe it’s the way it represents this new Pam he’s become so fond of: honest, confident, bold. He loved her before, obviously, but there’s something special about the way being with him has allowed her to spread her wings like a butterfly.

Pam sits propped up against her pillow, engrossed in some classic novel. Probably for the Finer Things Club meeting he won’t be invited to. He taps her leg a few times.

“Hey. Hey, babe.”

She doesn’t look away from her book. “Kinda reading here, babe.”

“Okay, babe. Whatever you say, babe.” They share a chuckle over Michael and Jan’s ill-fated pet names for each other.

After a few more minutes Pam closes her book, sets it on her bedside table. She takes off her glasses and lays down next to him, snuggling in close, her head resting on his bicep, his fingers playing with her hair. 

“What should we do today?” he asks her.

“Nothing,” she replies. 

“Sounds perfect.”

There's rarely been a night they’ve spent apart since they began dating and he knows cohabitation is inevitable and imminent. Lately, he’s been finding himself going over the pros and cons of both their abodes in his mind at random moments during the day. The only real question he has at this point is ‘which place will become their place?’ 

“I’m going to take a shower,” she says, sitting up. “Maybe you ought to join me. Just a suggestion.” She pulls her shirt up over her head, which is actually his shirt, and gives him a single look that would compel him to do whatever the hell she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She tosses the shirt at him, giggling, then turns and walks to the bathroom. Just then, there’s a knock at her front door. She covers herself reflexively.

“Ooh, can you get that?”

“What, you don’t want to answer the door like that?”

“Jim.”

“...Because I really think that should be your new thing.”

She gestures at the door wildly, and he grins as she turns with a flip of her hair and walks into the bathroom.

Jim walks through her tiny apartment to the front door and opens it up. A woman stands there, who looks to be in her mid-forties, brown hair and kind eyes. “Hello, I’m looking for Pam? I’m her landlord.”

“Oh!” he responds. “Hi, I’m Jim. Pam’s boyfriend.” He’s never actually said it out loud before to a stranger. It feels awesome.

She reaches her hand out to shake his. “Ah, Jim. I’ve definitely heard that name,” she says with a smile. “Nice to put a face to it. I’m Margaret.” 

“Pam’s, just...” he jerks his thumb in the direction of the bathroom, “in...dis...posed,” he mutters slowly, not really sure what to say. “Can I give her a message?”

“Would you mind giving her this? It’s just her lease agreement. We were talking about moving her to a month-to-month and I just wanted to know if she's still interested.”

Jim takes the form. “Sure.” 

“Thanks. Nice to meet you,” Margaret says, and waves goodbye.

He closes the door and looks down at Pam’s lease agreement. Could she have been talking to her landlord about changing her lease because she assumes she’ll be moving in with Jim soon anyway?

He smiles, looks in the general direction of the bathroom, the sounds of the shower coming through the slightly ajar door. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. It feels wonderful that ever since they got together they've been so consistently on the same page. 

He lays the contract on her dining room table and starts stripping his clothes off, leaving them in a trail from the kitchen to the bathroom. He opens the door slowly, stepping inside, steam surrounding him. For a moment he just watches her hazy form through the fogged glass as she washes her hair. It feels so comfortable and domestic. Fantasies of doing this with her every morning for the rest of their lives have been on his mind since he met her, but certainly more often lately, ever since it’s become a reality. It’s hard to believe they’ve been together for almost a year, and he wonders why he’s waited so long to pop the question but the truth is he’s honestly lost track of time.

Opening the shower door, he steps in behind her. “I just met your landlady.”

She turns to face him, water cascading down her shoulders. “Margaret? What did she need?”

“She said something about you going to a month to month lease.” He reaches behind her, grabs the soap. “You, um… thinking about moving?”

She shrugs, smiling at him. “I dunno. Could be time.”

He nods, feeling her out. “Could be.”

Pam turns around again. “Can you get my back, please?”

“Absolutely.” He rubs the soap between his hands then washes her back, taking his time. As he does, he runs down a mental checklist of every single place they’ve been together, every romantic memory he can access, trying to figure out the perfect way to ask her to marry him. 

“You… want to talk about this?” he asks, his mouth close to her ear.

She spins around again, puts her arms around his neck.

“I do,” she says. “But maybe not… right now.”

He isn’t sure exactly where her hesitation is coming from. But when she pulls him close and kisses him underneath the spray of hot water, he forgets everything else. 

For now.

“So, what’s the plan?” Jim asks her as they walk into her apartment. He tosses his keys onto the dining table. “You have to apply, right? What do you have to submit?”

She throws her jacket over a chair and walks over to her closet, pulling down her portfolio. “I’m not sure, really… it can be anything I want, I guess whatever showcases my strengths.”

He walks up behind her as she opens the portfolio, flipping through the large pages. Sketch after sketch tucked behind plastic cellophane. He’s amazed at how many there are. 

“When have you found the time to do these?” he asks. “They’re incredible.”

“I’ve shown you these before.” 

“I know, but not all of them.” He looks at the dates. “Some of these are from years ago.”

She grimaces. “Yeah, I guess I should send in some of my more recent stuff. Probably some more graphic design type stuff.” She looks unsure, and he knows it’s because she hasn’t been incredibly confident in her graphic art.

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head. “These are pretty amazing. And aren’t you there to learn graphic design? You probably won’t wow them with that stuff. You want to make a good first impression and I think sketches like these are your sweet spot.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she says thoughtfully.

“They really demonstrate… you, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” she smiles. “And thanks.”

“What about this one?” He points at a colored pencil drawing of a familiar container of jelly beans. The attention to detail in the lighting and the way it reflects off the curve of the candies is stunning. “Did you draw this at the office?”

“Yeah, some day when I was bored,” she guesses. “Probably before you were around.”

He flips through more pages. It’s legitimately difficult to pick a favorite. And then he suddenly stops. Pam inhales sharply next to him. There, on the page, is undeniably a sketch of him sitting at his desk.

“Oh,” she says, slightly embarrassed. “This is… I was just sort of practicing, you know. Faces.”

He looks up at her with a grin. “Why haven’t you shown me this before?” 

“It’s not very good,” she says, and she tries to close the portfolio. “It doesn’t really look like you.”

“Pam, stop,” he says. “I want to see.” He then notices on the opposite folio another sketch of him. This time he’s on the phone. “How many of these have you done?” he grins.

He flips the page and is almost overwhelmingly assaulted with sketch after sketch of Jim Halpert, in various poses, making various faces. Different styles, different variations. Some are caricatures, some are cartoons.

Pam shifts uncomfortably next to him. “I forgot there were so many,” she says. 

Jim points at a tiny cartoon sketch of him. His nose is enormous. “Really captured me there, Beesly.”

She sucks air through her teeth. “Sorry about that.”

He chuckles. “No, it’s great. I just can’t believe I had no idea you were drawing me all this time.”

“You were just my closest subject, that’s all.” 

“Really? That’s all?” 

She looks at him, suddenly serious. “No, that wasn’t all.”

Touched, he sets the portfolio down. It’s a strange comfort to know that she’d evidently studied him over the years just as closely as he had her. It’s rendered him practically speechless.

“I guess I should show you this one,” she says, flipping through the pages, searching for a specific drawing. Locating it, she slides it out of its protective sleeve and hands it to him. When he looks at it he feels something stir deep inside, as if she’s physically handing him a piece of her heart.

It’s a drawing of his profile, overlaid with hers. His is sketched in various shades of blue, hers in various shades of pink. It’s so raw and real and them it nearly takes his breath away.

“I drew this the night of my art show,” she explains, lightly dragging her finger along the side of the page. “I was feeling really down that night because nobody came.” She looks directly at him. “Well, because you didn’t come.”

He shakes his head, feeling terrible. She’d just gotten back together with Roy and he’d decided not to go for fear he’d have to see them there together. He honestly thought he hadn’t been missed at all. But seeing this…

“You were with Roy,” he says. 

She shakes her head. “No. I was really with you.”

Her words hit him square in the chest. Getting back together with her ex had obviously been merely an act of desperation; whether to salve her broken heart, or simply because she just didn’t know how to be single. It wasn't because she didn't love Jim, and he knew it then, if only subconsciously. But the proof is in his hands now.

“You did this… from memory?” He’s completely blown away.

“Well, yeah. I look directly at you eight hours a day, I know your profile by heart.”

“I guess we’re even then,” he grins, “although at least you had an excuse to stare.”

She smirks a bit, then looks back down at the portfolio. She’s turned to a copy of the watercolor of the office building Michael had purchased.

“This one should definitely be included,” he says. 

“My first sale.”

“That, and a visual representation of the daily grind this art program is destined to help you escape,” he grins. He’s only half joking.

“That’s not the reason I drew it,” she says. He looks at her inquisitively and her mouth forms a thin line. “It wasn’t a picture of the office. It never was.”

He’s confused. “Then… what is it?”

She takes a deep breath. “It started as a picture of the parking lot. Where I made my biggest mistake.”

He closes his eyes. “Oh, Pam.”

“And then Michael hung it across from my desk where I had to look at it every day and be reminded of that.”

He winces. “Whoops.”

“Thanks for your sympathy,” she says with a tiny laugh.

“Well, that’s not what it is anymore,” he says. “Now it’s a picture of the place where you and I found each other.”

She looks up at him. “Yeah, it is.”

They gaze at one another for a moment, then he holds up the sketch of the two of them. “Can I… keep this one?” he asks. 

She smiles. “Be my guest.” 

He lays it down carefully on the table, then pulls her into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you. You deserve this. And whatever you submit… they’d be crazy not to accept you, babe.”

“Thanks, babe,” she says.

“You’re welcome, babe.”

She laughs. “Is that getting old yet?”

He breathes her in, wonders if now would be the perfect time to drop to one knee. But maybe this moment is enough. He wants to remember tonight exactly as it’s unfolded.  

He leans back and smiles, holding her by both her shoulders. 

“Never, babe.”