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Story Notes:

Hi everyone! I know The Office's fandom is not in its best moment (it's been more than 10 years, i get it), but I recently discovered this site and the urge to post something is bigger tan myself.

I started this story as a whole-lenght work, but due to my inspiration (or lack of), i ended up changing some things for this to be a fluffly and full-of-sugar two-shots story. 

Also, as you can probably notice, English is NOT my first language, but i will try my best to don't freak you all with my mistakes :)

-bleasteria 

Author's Chapter Notes:

I started this as a whole story, but i got out of inspiration

I changed some parts for this to be a fluffy two-shots about what we didn't see AFTER Jim asked Pam on a date (s3 finale). 

Love u all

pd: English is not my first language!!! sorry if there are moments where im kicking the english grammar dictionary. 

The moment Jim saw among his papers the golden yogourt lid - excuse me, the bronze medal from the office games - he even found his legs going numb. It was only a second, two at most, but it felt like five whole lifetimes.

There was no David Wallace, no Karen Filippelli, no Roy Anderson... That medal was the only thing existing.

And that message about not forgetting her when he gets famous.

And his heart, which was beating so stupidly fast at the sight of a yogurt lid hooked on a chain of silver paper clips with nothing special.

And, above all, there was Pamela Morgan Beesly. Pamela Morgan Beesly and her hair up in that clip he always wanted to throw around the office when he'd tangled her fingers in her curls. Pamela Morgan Beesly and the sparkle in her eyes reflecting the fireworks from the rooftop. Pamela Morgan Beesly and all the times she had bitten her lip - and she did it many times, Jim was all too aware of it - holding in her laughter when they looked at each other.

Mostly, for those 2 seconds - or those five lifetimes - his head spun on a yogurt lid searching for a thousand meanings to questions he'd tried too hard to bury under layers and layers of wedding dates, endless engagements, kisses to a man who worked at the warehouse and one-sided confessions where he'd "misunderstood their friendship."

And just like that poor yogurt, the wrapper of everything he felt was ripped off like a band-aid from a wound. Hard, sudden and leaving a strange feeling on the skin.

The first time, he was ready. And even though the lid almost lifted off, Jim was able to leave one corner still attached to the rim of the container and cover what would be his feelings by changing cities and starting a new life. It wasn't the same but, somewhat, he had been able to secure the situation.

Now, the lid was in front of him in the form of a medal and there was no way that once it had been completely removed he could cover everything inside it again. Like that yogurt; either he would eat it right then or it would go bad.

And, for God's sake, he was so tired he didn't want to try to cover it up.

So that was how, after turning down that new position and having a too-crude, too-short conversation with Karen next to a New York fountain, he packed up all his stuff and set off in the direction of Scranton.

If two seconds seemed like five lifetimes, ironically enough, those two and a half hours seemed too short. He felt like he was on autopilot the entire trip, remembering and analyzing his friendship from the first moment he saw her until a few hours earlier, when he finished reading the little note next to his reports

When he finally saw the Scranton sign through the car window his fingers began to itch impatiently. The traffic lights were running too long on red and there were too many people crossing the crosswalks. He didn't know if it was the best decision of all, but he turned the steering wheel to the left in the direction of Dunder Mifflin's office. And the moment he had the building in front of him, his legs decided to move on their own and run to the elevator.

He opened the door without quite measuring his strength and his eyes searched the reception desk for a tangle of red curls and green eyes, but the chair was empty. Perhaps, the Jim Halpert of two days ago would have given up and seen it all as a sign of fate, a reminder that Pam was not for him.

But the Jim Halpert of now had a handful of paper clips in his pocket, a gold and blue lid and a note saying not to forget her. That was enough to go to the ends of the earth to pursue what he wanted.

And for years he was pretty sure he wanted Pam Beesly.

"Do you know where Pam is?" he asked one of the recording crew. He was aware of the rushed tone in his voice when he asked, but he couldn't care less.

"She's in the middle of a one-on-one interview"

He didn't have time to finish saying thank you when, striding over to the boardroom, he opened the door a little too forcefully.

"Pam!" The cameraman turned in his direction. "Sorry, eh... Are you free for dinner tonight?"

"Yes" she replied in surprise. A few seconds earlier she was talking about how they had missed their chance and how they might not have been meant to be together, but now, in front of her, she had Jim Halpert in all his glory, leaning nervously against the doorway with his chest heaving up and down still heaving from everything he held inside. 

"Alright... Then it's a date" and his hands couldn't help but start playing against the door frame. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to throw himself at Pam, wrap his arms around her waist and run off with her to be just the two of them, but the cameras were rolling and he didn't feel like having something as intimate as what they both felt broadcast to the whole world. So he closed the door behind him to avoid doing anything foolish and, to Dwight's accusing eyes wondering why he was here, he left the office on his way home.

In a few hours he, James Duncan Halpert, would have a date with Pamela Morgan Beesly. He couldn't stop smiling the entire car ride.

As of today, yogurts were his favorite dessert.

Chapter End Notes:
There is another part!!!

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