The morning after Christmas Jim was the first to arrive in the office. He purposely came in a bit early, hoping to make the best use of the quiet. Hanging his coat up on the stand, his gaze rested on the reception desk. He remembered the short phone call he got yesterday morning. Pam had called him at around ten o'clock Christmas morning, to wish him a Merry Christmas. She talked about spending Christmas Day at her parents' house, and after the call he'd spent much of the rest of the day thinking about her. It still amazed him how much she influenced him. After her gift of Dwight's prank on Friday, his thoughts of her yesterday were not as bittersweet as they had been. In fact, her call had lifted his spirits for most of the day. Karen had called in the afternoon, and the conversation was longer, but seemed hollow. He'd forgotten most of what she'd said by the time they hung up.

He'd gone home to his apartment in the early evening, and found himself feeling disconnected, restless. He grabbed his iPod, stretched out on his bed, and drowned his sense of loneliness in music. He'd been doing that a lot since the summer. It was a self-defense mechanism he'd developed as a teen. It was incredibly easy for him to shut out the world just by putting on his favorite songs. As he did that Christmas night, however, thoughts of Pam wouldn't leave him alone. He would listen to a song and wonder what she'd make of it. Soon he found himself pulling together some of his favorite acquisitions, songs he'd picked up since moving to Stamford and back. He burned them into a mix CD. He printed out a detailed sheet of the songs, artists, and notes and fit it into the jewel case. And this morning it sat in his messenger bag, a slightly late Christmas gift for Pam.

He sat at his desk and took the CD out of his bag. He fingered the edges of the CD's jewel case. He was aware that it was pretty personal gift to give someone he'd been trying to keep some emotional distance from. But her CIA prank really touched him, even if he did first reject it. She was so incredible. He always felt that their best pranks had sprung from her ideas and comments. When they were caught up in their fun, he felt alive. And for a few moments on Friday, he couldn't deny he'd felt that all again. It might make more sense to avoid falling into their old patterns, but that denied the reality that being together with her just felt so damn good. It felt right.

He heard the office door open and he quickly slid the CD back into his bag. It was Pam, as he expected. He wasn't ready to give her his present, so he turned back to his computer.

Pam was surprised to see Jim already at his desk. “Hey,” she said, hanging her coat next to his. “You're here early.”

Jim looked up. “Yeah, well this paper won't sell itself.”

“Oh that's right,” she grinned. “I forgot - you've 'evolved'. You're all about the company now, Mister Number Two.”

Jim couldn't resist smiling at her taunts. “We could do with a little less of your sarcasm, Miss Beesly, and a little more of you sitting down and doing you're work. You are on company time now, you know.”

She stared at him for a moment, trying hard not to laugh. “Hey, Halpert,” she said, her grin slipping out. “Suck it, okay?”

She sat down in her chair and turned on her computer. She could hear him laughing quietly, and she thought that today looked to be a good day.

By nine o'clock those who hadn't taken the day off where at their desks, back into the swing of things. It was exceptionally quiet as about half the office had taken a vacation day. Michael was off in Jamaica, which placed Jim in charge for the day.

When Pam remembered this she sent him an IM:

PB: Do we have to call you Mr. Halpert while Michael's gone, Mr. 2nd-in-command?

JH: No. Jim will do for everyone EXCEPT you. You may call me Your Highness.

PB: Pfft. In your dreams. I have a better title I'd rather call you. :-P

Jim turned in his chair to raise an eyebrow at Pam. She stuck out her tongue in emphasis.

JH: Nice. Amazing how quickly the spirit of Christmas is lost around here.

PB: Well some of us didn't have the spirit of Christmas to begin with.

JH: I don't know. I thought you pretended pretty well on Friday.

PB: Me? Hey, at least I got you a gift.....

Pam regretted her response as soon as she sent it. She was teasing, but feared he'd think she was serious. She didn't want him to think she'd been expecting anything especially given how things had been between them. Because she really, really didn't. His response surprised her.

JH: Christmas isn't over yet, Beesly.

Pam was interrupted from replying by the arrival of a delivery person walking into the office. An attractive slender Indian woman walked up to the reception desk. “I have a delivery for Jim Halpert,” she told Pam.

“I can take it,” Pam said, reaching for the box.

“I'm sorry,” the woman said. “I need to get a signature from Mr. Halpert.”

Jim stood up, having overheard the conversation. “I'm Jim Halpert.”

The delivery woman, dressed in an orange polo shirt and jeans, gave him a clipboard and a pen. “Sign on the top line next to your name,” she instructed him.

He did, and she gave him a lunch box sized white box. “Thanks. Have a good day,” she said as she walked out of the office.

Jim sat down and inspected the box. It was addressed to him, with Dunder Mifflin's address. However there was no return address and it had no postage marks of any sort. He took his scissors out and carefully slit the tape to open the box. He first pulled out some red tissue paper, then a heart shaped red metal tin, and then a CD of The Partridge Family's Greatest Hits.

He laughed in amazement. “What the hell .....?” he said softly to himself.

He opened the heart tin to find greenish-yellow Jelly Bellies. Putting a few in his mouth, he discovered they were pear flavor - and pretty tasty, too. He looked inside the box, and found a squarish thick envelope at the bottom. Inside, wrapped in red tissue paper, was a stained glass ornament on a gold ribbon. It was square and flat, and written in gold across the top border of milky white glass were the words “On The First Day of Christmas” with the glass work clearly depicting a heavily leafed pear tree with its fruit and a single partridge on a branch.

A flat card fell out of the envelope, too. It was made of the same thick paper as the envelope. Printed in a cursive font was a short message:

The Partridge Family got it wrong. I don't think, I know.

There was nothing else in the envelope. Nothing else in the box that indicated who had sent it all. Jim ate a few more jelly beans and ran it all through his mind. Had he not known better, he would immediately credit this package to Pam. The details were too good, The Partridge Family CD too cheesy. And then there were the jelly beans. He held the stained glass panel carefully in his hands, tilting it up to the light to see the colors vibrate and sparkle. It was very delicate, and very beautiful. And he wished for a long moment that this present was from Pam. In his version of the world it would be just another example of her love for him.

But he knew his version was wrong. This wasn't from her. It couldn't be from her. She didn't love him, that much she'd made clear. He had looked up at her after he opened the gift, and she was too busy at the computer to even notice what he was doing. If this was from Pam she would have caught his eye and given him that full open smile, that slightly giddy but bashful look that said she knew she'd been found out. But she wasn't even paying attention.

He carefully placed the ornament into the envelope and put it and the CD back in the box. He left the jelly beans on his desk, in front of the picture of his brother and him. This must have been a gift from Karen. She had wanted to share the holiday with him. She'd even hinted pretty hard that he should come home to Connecticut with her. But the idea made him anxious, like he was about to be caught doing something he shouldn't. Almost a trapped feeling, if he was being totally honest. So he told her his mother had already made big plans that he couldn't get out of. She took it like most things, with an accepting nod and a smile that never quite reached her eyes.

The box must have been just a little something to let him know she was thinking about her. He appreciated the effort, and knew that he should thank her. He reminded himself that she was his link to the sanity he so desperately wanted, and if she'd come up with such an idea, then maybe there was more to her than he'd given her credit for.

That afternoon he received a call from Karen. She'd just gotten back into town, and wondered if he wanted to get together for dinner.

“Yeah, sure, that sounds good,” he told her. “and I'll pay as a way of thanking you for the gift.”

“What gift?” she asked.

“The gift you had delivered to me this morning. It was really cute.”

“I didn't send you anything. What was it?”

“Funny, Filipelli. The First Day of Christmas?”

“I swear, Jim. I didn't send you anything.”

Suddenly Jim felt a bit nauseous. The realization hit him that this really wasn't from Karen. He turned in his chair to look at Pam, phone still held to his ear.

“You still there?” Karen asked.

“Yes,” Jim replied. “Just give me a minute.” He gazed at Pam, watching her sort some papers on her desk. He was struck with how beautiful she was, and how
oblivious she was to his staring.

“Sorry,” he finally said, turning back around in his chair. “I was just thinking. This must have been a joke from my mother.”

“Okay,” Karen said, sounding like she thought he was babbling nonsense. “So let's meet at Cooper's at 5:30?”

Jim agreed and hung up the phone. He stared at the white box still sitting on the corner of his desk. It wasn't from Karen. He knew very well it wasn't from his mother. So unless he had an unknown secret admirer, that narrowed the sender to a very, very small pool of people. A pool of exactly one.

Jim stood up and brought the box over to Pam's counter. “I don't suppose you know anything about the contents of this box,” he said causally. He put his hands in his pockets to prevent her from seeing that he was shaking slightly.

“I know it arrived today,” she said, looking up at him. “I didn't see you open it, so no, I don't know what's in it. Why?”

“Because it seems I have a secret admirer,” Jim replied.

“Really?” Pam looked at him curiously. “How exciting.” She stood up. “What did you get?””

“A partridge in a pear tree,” he replied, watching her carefully for her reaction.

“Get out of here,” she groaned. “You did not.”

He handed the box to her. “Look for yourself.”

Pam sat back down and carefully opened the box. She laughed when she saw the CD. “You know, The Partridge Family really were an important influence in 70s pop culture. You could have done worse.”

“There's also something in the bottom.”

She took out the ornament. “Oh my God, Jim,” she said as she gingerly held it in her hand. “This is phenomenal.” She held it up to the light, just like Jim had done. “Very cool.”

She put everything back in the box and gave it to him. “Do you think this is the first in a series?”

He shrugged. “I guess we'll see.” He took the box and slumped back down in his chair. For as carefully as he watched her, she gave nothing away to indicate she was the sender. She genuinely seemed surprised and impressed. Now he had no idea what to think.

He gathered up his things to leave a little early. As he put the box's contents carefully in his messenger bag, he found the CD he made for Pam. Things had gotten so hectic for him between the surprise delivery and with Michael gone that he'd totally forgotten to give it to her. He tidied up his desk and walked back to her desk.

“Hey, Beesly,” he said, feeling a little nervous around her for the second time today.

“Hey, Halpert,” she grinned.

“I know I didn't get you anything for Christmas, but I made this for you yesterday.” He handed her the mix CD. “It's just some new stuff I've been listening to since the summer. You usually liked the other stuff I made you listen to, so I just thought you might like this.”

She held the CD in her hand, staring at the hand drawn cover he'd made. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Jim leaned on the counter to watch her reaction. When she raised her head their faces were inches away. “Thanks, Jim,” she repeated. “This is a wonderful gift. I can't wait to go home and listen to it tonight.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment they both saw a glimpse of something more. Then they became aware of their closeness and both moved back. “I'm leaving a bit early,” Jim said, grabbing his coat.

“Okay,” she replied. “Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Jim met Karen for dinner, but his mind was elsewhere. He knew Karen was speaking about her holiday with her family, and he remembered to nod at all the appropriate times. But her words flowed passed him as his mind kept wandering to the vision of a woman with long curling hair sitting home alone, listening to the same music he listens to when he's thinking of her. He hoped she was thinking of him as she heard the music. He hoped the lyrics hit the same hurting spots in her that it always did in him.

And he desperately hoped she was the one who sent the white box.