Pam had always liked college; school in general, really. She’d always been good at it. Straight A’s, teacher’s pet, the works. Setting her mind to a task and accomplishing it had always been a source of pride for her, and she truly enjoyed learning.

So why is she finding it so difficult this time around?

She sits in her dorm room, attempting to maneuver her way around this stupid Quark program. It’s only been a few weeks but she feels as if she’s already struggling in certain classes. She wants to blame her distractions: the documentary crew still tailing her relentlessly, and missing Jim so much that sometimes it’s hard to remember to breathe. But deep down, she knows the truth is that graphic design just isn’t her thing. 

3D Modeling. Typography. Logo Design. They’re skill sets she needs to function in the art world nowadays, but unfortunately they’re just not her speed. Sitting through the classes and attempting to pack in all the information reminds her of trying to learn the copier back at work, and that’s not really what she wants. It’s not the kind of art she likes. She would much rather just enjoy her courses in illustration, figure drawing. Even animation has been fun. When she can just sit in her own little world and draw, that’s when she’s happiest.

She finds it incredibly ironic that, after leaving Dunder Mifflin to pursue her dreams, all she really wants is to be left alone with a pencil and some plain white paper.

In any event, Jim is supposed to be visiting tonight. She can hardly wait to see him; it’s been over a week since she has, and this is getting harder, not easier. Just as she’s wondering what she should wear, her phone rings.

“Hi,” she answers immediately, grateful for the interruption.

“Hey,” he replies. “How was class?”

She shrugs. “Fine.” She doesn’t really want to tell him she hates half her classes after everything she’d gone through to get here. “How’s work?”

“Exactly the same. Michael Klump visited today.”

“Oh, god.” Pam is no stranger to Michael Klump. The last time he’d visited the office there had been a Twinkie eating contest which Oscar had been very loudly and inappropriately excused from by Michael for reasons that were apparent to everyone. “Sorry about that. At least you’ll be free soon enough. I can’t wait to see you.”

She hears him slightly inhale on the other line and with a twinge of sadness knows instantly what it must mean. “Well, about that…”  

“Oh, no.”

“So as it turns out, tonight is my nephew’s T-ball game and I kinda missed the first three, so…” 

“You've already disappointed him so much,” she teases. “He can't be expecting a lot from you.” 

“I know. I suck.” 

She’s disappointed as well, and although she knows Jim wouldn’t cancel this evening if it weren’t absolutely necessary, a tiny part of her wonders if he’s just getting tired of the drive. 

After some obligatory fighting on the other end between Jim and Dwight, she tries to turn his attention back to their situation. “I... listen, um- we're still good for this weekend, right? No football games, recitals, karate tournaments…” Missing him tonight will suck, but at least they have something to look forward to. And she knows he’ll make it up to her.

His tone changes slightly. “Hey, can you go to IM?” 

She obliges, suspecting Dwight is eavesdropping.

JIM9334> Let's meet for lunch. 

She’s slightly thrown. Maybe it isn’t the drive, after all.

Receptionitis15 > What -- today? 

JIM9334> Yeah. C'mon we'll meet halfway. You'll be back for your 4 o'clock class. 

She loves when Jim is thoughtful about these things; that he remembers her classes, what time they’re at, which ones she has. He knows when she’s available and isn’t. The idea he just really, really wants to see her badly enough not to wait until this weekend delights her.

Receptionitis15> Where? 

JIM9334> The rest stop where that soda exploded on me. Exit 17, I think. 1 o'clock. 

Receptionitis15> Alright. See you there. 

They say their goodbyes and log off. She glances over at the clock, realizing she’d better get on the road now if she’s going to make it by one.

When she opens her door, the camera crew is sitting in the hallway waiting.

“You guys are still here?” she asks them. “There’s got to be something more interesting to film.” 

She shakes her head, locking her door. They follow her, which she realizes must be very strange to onlookers but she’s so used to it by now she no longer thinks of it as such.

“Where are you headed?” asks Delilah, one of the producers. 

“Going to see Jim. He wants to meet for lunch. Guess he can’t make dinner tonight.”

The filming crew had given her the option to decline their presence in New York. She’d been briefly thrilled that she might be free of them (mostly) for three months, but Jim had convinced her she’d be far safer with them around. Knowing she would be alone in a big city had made him rather insistent. Wanting to ease his fears (and knowing he was probably right) she’d agreed.

“Can you let us know where you’re meeting him, so we don’t lose you?”

Pam sighs. Surely this is not worth all their trouble. “I guess so, it’s a rest stop, exit 17 off I-80. But we’re just having lunch. Maybe you guys ought to take a breather.”

After her orientation at Pratt is over, Jim drives them back to Scranton, his hand covering hers on the console. She’s been talking nonstop about her new classes and he just listens, enjoying her happiness.

She’s incredibly excited to start her new adventure, but even more so that she’s with a guy who actually supports her endeavors. She wants to kick herself that she waited so long to try this out, but knowing she’s gone through so much real change over the past year helps her feel secure in the trajectory of her life. She is with Jim now, and he wants her to succeed. It sounds so cliché, but he believes in her, and it’s been such a long time since she’s felt this way.

“We need to get some gas,” he says, glancing over at her as he puts on his turn signal and exits off the interstate. They pull up to a rest stop, and he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Be right back. You want something to drink?”

She nods. “Yeah, thanks.”

She watches him put the pump in, and go into the service station. She isn’t sure if it’s the sudden silence permeating the car, or the thought of leaving him for so long, but a strange sense of uneasiness comes over her. 

It’s been over a month since he told her he planned to propose. Over a month she’s been waiting for his relentless pranking to turn into something real. It’s not that she doubts Jim’s commitment, it’s just that she’s starting to realize something that should have been fun has slowly evolved into something slightly tedious.  

She sees him walking back to the car holding two Cokes, and he gets in, handing her one. “Slowest pump in existence,” he explains. “I’d move the car, but by the time I did it…” he shrugs.

“Jim, can I talk to you about something?” she blurts out, looking down at the can, absently circling her thumb around the edge.

“Sure,” he says, giving her his full attention. “What is it?”

“It’s just…” she reaches for the right words, because she doesn’t want to ruin whatever surprise he has planned, if he even has a plan. But she wants to stop feeling this way, especially if they’re going to be apart for three months. “First of all, you know how much I love you, right?”

“Are you breaking up with me, Beesly?” he says it with a grin, so she knows he’s kidding. 

“Of course not,” she says, with a slightly awkward chuckle. 

Jim’s smile fades. “Is everything… okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I just…” she considers chickening out but she’s come this far. “I have to tell you that I was really disappointed when you didn’t propose last week.”

It’s out, and she feels sort of bad about saying it. Telling him this makes her feel high-maintenance and she isn’t high maintenance. Jim closes his eyes, exhales, and sits back into his seat.

“I’m really sorry if it feels like I’m putting pressure on you, because I promise I don’t mean to,” she continues. “I’ve just been feeling a little sad about it and I wanted you to know why. I just... I think this whole fakeout thing is kind of losing its charm, you know?”

Jim opens his eyes to look at her, his face falling a bit. “If it makes you feel any better, that was the plan. I swear it was.”

“What was the plan?”

“I planned to propose that night. I bought fireworks and everything.”

Her jaw drops. “I knew it!” She’d been so certain it would happen that when it didn’t, her excitement had deflated into very real disappointment she hadn’t wanted to feel. 

“But then Andy sort of…” 

“Schruted it?” she grins.

He laughs. “I’m sorry, Pam. I wanted it to be perfect, you know? And it would have been far from perfect if I’d gone through with it after that.”

She nods. Relief floods her body, knowing he’d been absolutely serious. “Thanks for telling me.” 

“So… how are you feeling now? Because the only reason I’ve been waiting is because I want to make it special for you. And that opportunity just hasn’t quite presented itself yet. Again,” he adds with a smirk.

“You know what?” she suddenly decides. “I think we should wait.”

“Wait… for what?”

“Until I come back from New York.”

He crinkles his brow. “But that’s three months away,” he says, stating the obvious.

“I know, I know it is. But it would take the pressure off both of us, I think.”

Jim blinks. “Are you sure?”

She nods, completely certain. “I didn’t realize how stressed out I’ve been, and I really don’t want to be stressing about this while I’m in New York.”

He nods, but the crinkle in his brow betrays his emotion. “I’m really sorry, Pam,” he says earnestly. “I hope you know I never wanted to make you feel like that.”

“No, Jim,” she takes his face into her hands and leans forward to assuage his concerns with a kiss. “You haven’t done anything wrong. My classes have sort of thrown a huge wrench into our plans.”

He looks at her for a moment, and his eyes soften. “What if... I just ask you right now?”

Her heart pounds at the suggestion. But it doesn’t feel right. This shouldn’t be their story; her expressing frustration and his proposal being a reaction to that. 

“No, baby, let’s wait. I’m okay with it,” she says, and she really is. He loves her and she knows he wants to get married. It doesn’t matter if they have to wait a little bit longer. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to spend the first three months of our engagement apart.” 

Pam, I’ve waited for you for years. If you’re really okay with this, I can wait as long as you want.” His eyes sparkle in that special way they do when he’s only looking at her, and she melts a little bit. 

“I really am,” she promises. 

He nods, takes her hand and brings it to his lips. “Then… we wait,” he says. 

“We wait.”

She feels a tiny thrill inside, knowing they’ve discussed their future in a way that means something. It isn’t about being in a hurry, it never has been. They will wait until the timing is perfect. They always have.

Jim picks up his Coke, holds it up to hers. “To waiting,” he says with conviction. 

She smiles and pops hers open. When he does the same, it explodes all over his face.

“I just… I couldn’t wait.”

Jim kneels before her in the rain, and she can’t quite catch her breath. While it isn’t exactly what she’d pictured, it’s still somehow perfect. His hair is slick with the spontaneous August downpour, and the warm wind whips her own hair across her face.

He pulls out a small black box, holds it open. She can’t even see the ring clearly but she does see a flash of something wet in Jim’s eyes, and for the first time in weeks she can feel it in her gut, in her soul, in her heart: this one is for real. 

This is their story.

“Pam, will you marry me?” 

Oh my god, she thinks she utters, but she’s so busy looking into Jim’s eyes she can’t think straight. After everything, each and every fakeout, his proposal has still somehow managed to properly kick her ass. 

“So?” he asks with the biggest smile she’s ever seen on his face. Her own cheeks hurt as she beams with happiness, and she feels her head nodding yes, yes yes.

Everything seems to be slowing down in some kind of dreamlike haze where her fantasy has become reality and her mouth can’t quite keep up with her mind. But he deserves to hear her say the word 'yes' to him after all these years, especially after their entire romantic relationship had begun with a 'no.'

“Yes,” she says, and sees relief in his eyes she hadn’t been expecting. 

He stands and leaps towards her, kissing her soundly, his hand cradling the back of her head, his thumb softly caressing her temple. The rain patters against the steel roof of the service station and she can smell the tang of gasoline in the air, knowing she will forever associate the scent with this moment. 

He pulls away from her with his eyes still closed, resting his forehead against hers. It’s as if he needs to pause to catch his own breath, to know it’s real. She understands the feeling completely.

“I love you,” he says, simply and without any fanfare. She’s so caught up in the moment she’d almost forgotten about the ring, which he holds up between them, taking it out of the box and slipping it onto her finger. It’s a simple solitaire on a platinum band. She’s no expert on the subject, but she’s also no stranger to engagement rings, and while that fact remains slightly unfortunate, she will not allow her past to taint how perfect Jim’s ring looks on her hand. 

Sometimes the simplest, most ordinary things are the most beautiful.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“I love it,” she says, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. “And I love you.”

He kisses her again, using his thumbs to gently wipe the corners of her eyes. She can honestly say she’s never been happier in her entire life.

“I’ve had that ring for a year,” he says. Her heart nearly stops in her chest.

“A year? Jim, we’ve only been dating for a year.”

He takes both her hands in his. “Pam, I’ve known you’re the one ever since I met you.”

She closes her eyes and lives in the moment, her small hands warm inside his large ones. The rain is now coming down so hard it’s bouncing off the pavement, splashing onto her legs, and the humidity is wreaking havoc on her hair. But she doesn’t care. 

“I know you don’t want to be separated right now, and I’m sorry I didn’t stick to our deal. The next couple months are going to be hard. But I’ve waited for you for so long, Pam. I’m ready to move forward, whether we’re together or apart.”

Pam looks down at her ring, and forgets about everything she’d told him she wanted.

This, exactly this, is what she wants.

Nodding her head, she looks back up at him with tears in her eyes. “I’m ready, too. And thank you. This was perfect.”

He grabs her again, pulls her in for another kiss. “You wanna get out of here?” he asks throatily against her lips. She recognizes that particular Jim voice, but it’s the one that they unfortunately can’t really do anything about at the moment.

She laughs. “To where, exactly?”

He sighs and looks around, his eyes landing on the car, then visibly thinking better of it. “Yeah… I guess I didn’t really think this part through,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck. His hair is getting wetter by the second, his jacket forgotten on the ground, puddles of rainwater gathering among its folds.

And then she sees them: the camera crew, camped out across the interstate, hiding (badly) beneath a tarp.

She takes his hands in hers once again and looks up into his eyes. Her heart is full to bursting.

“Jim,” she says to him with a smirk, after surreptitiously glancing at the crew. “It can wait.”