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Pam was the first to get up in the morning. She rolled over to see a sleeping Jim facing her, his mouth slightly open. She smiled, brushed his hair across his forehead, and got out of bed.

She put on her typical Saturday uniform -- jeans, t-shirt, and her white Keds -- and walked over to Jim's side of the bed with her sketch pad and charcoal pencils in hand. Her handwriting was illegible sometimes after the years of messages she had to write at her desk, but she tried to make sure it was neat enough for Jim to read. She left the note on the night stand, stuffed her sketch pad and charcoals in her bag, and left him sleeping.

Her first stop was the coffee shop where she ordered a latte, which she took out to one of the tables in front. Pam always loved sitting out there, watching everyone go by as she drank her morning coffee. After that, Pam headed to the gallery and found her favorite spot in the main concourse. It was off to the side, away from most of the foot traffic. She would always sit with her back against the wall, her sketch pad propped up on her knees. Prof. Byron once told her she looked uncomfortable like that, but she loved having her face so close to the page as she drew.

She was sketching the hands of the nearby sculpture when she felt Jim's presence next to her. "Hard at work, I see?" he said, looking down at her.

"Some of us don't waste our weekends away in bed," Pam answered sarcastically.

"I have a good defense."

"Really?" she said, looking up at him.

"First of all, I fell asleep next to a beautiful woman so I was very comfortable where I was. Second, your directions told me to turn left at, and I quote, 'the church.' Do you know how many churches there are here?"

"Welcome to Florence," she said, smiling warmly at him before looking back down at her sketch.

"How's the art going, Pamelangelo?"

"You've been hanging around Michael too much," she said, looking back up at the marble statue in front of her. "And it's going ok, but Michelangelo did this weird thing where David isn't proportional to an actual human being so he's hard to sketch."

"Really?" Jim said, kneeling down next to her.

"Yeah," she answered, trying to look at him and the sculpture at the same time. "If you look at his head and his hands, they aren't in proportion to his lower body."

"So in this case, what they say about the size of men's hands in relation to other body parts isn't totally true?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Pam rolled her eyes. "Like I said, I think you've been hanging around Michael too much." She heard him laugh next to her, and looked at him staring back at her. "You should go look at it closer," she insisted. "In my Italian sculpture class, the professor said there are theories that Michelangelo may have gotten this block of marble for free because it's not a good slab. You can see the holes in it if you get closer."

"Well, at least I'm getting my money's worth out of these art classes," Jim said, leaning down to give her a kiss before standing up and wandering over with the rest of the tourists huddled around David's base.

She stopped drawing to watch Jim walk around, looking at all the details. When he went around to the back of the sculpture, she could see his eyes following the curves of the back muscles carved into the marble, the way David's sling hung over his shoulder. Roy would have made inappropriate remarks about David's ass, which Pam just chalked up as another reason she loved Jim so much.

As she saw Jim walking back toward her, she started packing up her pad and charcoal. "What do you think?" she asked when he was within earshot.

"You're gorgeous."

She giggled. "Thanks, but I meant David."

He shrugged. "He makes me a little uncomfortable. Do you think it would be rude to asked him to wear some pants?" She could tell he was trying to be serious, but after she smiled at him, he broke and started laughing as he grabbed her hand to help her up. "I was kidding about that last part."

"I know," she said. Then she realized his face was serious, like he wanted to say something but couldn't. "What?" she asked, trying to get it out of him.

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I never thought about ever coming to Italy, but I'm glad I did and I'm glad you're here with me."

"Me, too," she said, smiling as she put her messenger bag over her shoulder. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," he replied, putting his arm around her shoulder as they walked down the long gallery back to the entrance.

"Hey, do you think we should send a postcard to Michael?" Pam asked.

"Um...no. I think Michael is into naked women, not naked men."

"Oh, good because we're going to the Uffizi Gallery next and I'm positive they have some postcards of naked Renaissance women there."

"Eh," Jim said, struggling his shoulders.

"'Eh' what?" Pam asked him.

"Well, here's the thing. I already saw a naked woman in Italy so any others are just icing on the cake."

She felt Jim's hand slide across her shoulder blades as she stopped dead in her tracks. He looked surprised that his momentum had moved her away from him. "Pervert," she whispered, the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile.

He walked over and stood in front of her. "Can you blame me for that? I mean, really, Beesly. I've only made love to a woman in a foreign country once in my life so it's not like I'm going to forget something like that."

"Once so far," she said, smiling back at him.

He kissed her on the forehead and went back to walking next to her with his arm around her shoulders again. She could feel the warmth of his body as she slipped her arm around his waist.

"Oh hey, question," Jim said next to her.

"Yes, Dwight."

She looked over to see him scrunching his nose up. "Ha, funny," he told her sarcastically. "Anyway! Listen, I haven't had anything to eat today so do you think we can grab some gelato before we hit the Uffizi?"

His hand slid from her shoulder to the small of her back as he gently guided her into the revolving doors in the main lobby. She was waiting in the street for him to come around before continuing the conversation. "Do you remember what you had yesterday?" she asked, putting her arm around his waist again to direct him through the cobble-stoned streets.

"I had a very gorgeous woman in bed with me," he explained as she rolled her eyes. "And I had strawberry at the airport and banana last night after dinner, but I'm going to be here for a week or something, so I have alot to work on the other flavors."

"You may need to start keeping a list."

"I may need to do that," he said.

"What flavor do you want this time?"

Jim got a look of concentration on his face. "Hm...tough choices. Let's try hazelnut."

"Wow. Adventurous today, huh?"

"There are only so many times in a person's life when they're in the middle of Italy, Beesly, so I intend to take full advantage."

Pam looked over at him and smiled. "Then I know just the place."


sharky is the author of 26 other stories.
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