In a series of half-fulfilled intentions, she paced her apartment, aligning picture frames and knickknacks, picking up books and magazines only to circle the coffee table and return them to their original positions. Emotions flitted through her, no single thought taking hold for long. Anxiety and hope and terror and euphoria. An intensity she hadn’t felt in…a year. Or ten. Maybe forever.

Her hands shook. She scrubbed her palms against the denim of her jeans, then pounced on a stray pencil attempting to sneak between couch cushions.

The sound of his knock may as well have been a gunshot. She jumped, dropping the pencil. Jim. Jim was at her door. Pencil forgotten, she dashed toward the door. Jim, here, for a date. Nervous, excited laughter started to bubble through her. She paused in the entryway, slapping a hand over her mouth. No need to look like a maniac right now.

Once she had schooled her features into some semblance of normalcy, she swung the door open. He stood in front of her, hands shoved into his pockets. She pictured him returning them there after knocking, finding the image oddly endearing.

She felt a smile steal back over her. “Hi.”

A dozen different emotions crossed his face before he settled into a slow smile. “Hey.” He shifted a little, then pulled his hands from his pockets to glance at them guiltily, then back at her. “I didn’t really have time, to, uh…”

Without thinking, she released the doorknob to cross the threshold in one stride and throw her arms around his neck.

He stumbled half a step backward in surprise, but soon his arms were wrapping around her to pull her closer.

Her eyes closed. She felt like sinking into him and staying there forever. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered against his neck.

He leaned his cheek against her hair. He took a deep breath, exhaling in a gust that sounded something like relief. “So am I,” he murmured.

After a moment he ducked his head to the crook of her neck, inhaling again. “What do you smell like? It’s different.” He caught himself. “Good. You smell good.”

She started to giggle. “Honeysuckle. My mom gave it to me.”

He sighed, then leaned back to look at her. “Pam. Didn’t anyone ever tell you? You’re never supposed to talk about your mom on a first date.” He paused, flushing a little at his last words.

She let her arms slide away from his neck, trailing one hand down his arm to tangle his fingers with hers. “Uh oh. I hope I’m not disqualified.”

He sighed, then squeezed her hand. “Never.”

Her gaze flicked toward their clasped hands, then back to his face. She smiled. “So. Where to?”

 

 

They sat close at dinner, occupying about a third of their booth. He apologized for the uncreative venue. She told him she did have a weakness for rooftop grilled cheese, but she would make do.

 

They talked and they laughed, but Pam felt removed from her own voice, like she was floating, an observer to her own discourse. Her heartbeat seemed to echo in her ears; she imagined she could feel the blood rushing through her veins and hear the air filling her lungs.

 

She was mesmerized by the sound of his voice, the emotions dancing across his face, his body next to hers. Her heart seemed to skip a beat every time their hands touched as they speared food from each other’s plates. Soon they were leaning toward one another, shoulders and elbows and knees brushing, heads bowed together.

 

Jim held a piece of his roll out for her to try. Instead of taking it from him, she lightly grasped his wrist as she leaned forward and took the piece of bread with her mouth, her lips brushing his fingertips. She stroked the inside of his wrist with her thumb, wondering how many times she had wanted to touch him like this. More than she could count.

 

Their eyes met. His were wide and serious. She marveled at how clearly she could read his expressions now, after a year of silence and confusion and pain. He tangled her fingers in hers, bringing her hand to his face to brush a kiss against the tops of her fingers. Her emotions felt jumbled and close to the surface. Bursting into laughter or tears or climbing into his lap and kissing him until the restaurant staff evicted them all seemed equally likely and entirely possible.

 

It was as they were finishing off the tiramisu, when he fumbled a piece into his lap and she laughed and he made a face, that it struck her. She wanted to be the one to kiss him this time. No, not just wanted -- the idea had suddenly become vitally important to her.

 

 

A blanket of silence fell over her as she stepped out of the restaurant. The bustle and laughter of anniversary dinners, graduation celebrations, first dates, and family reunions fell away, replaced by crickets, leaves in the gentle breeze, a distant horn.

 

He leaned against the low concrete wall bordering the walkway, staring up at the night sky. He hadn’t noticed her yet, so she took a moment to watch him. He seemed lost in thought, hands shoved in his pockets. She tried to identify the expression on his face. Wistful? Hopeful?

 

She knew this was her chance. Slowly, she began to move forward, placing one foot in front of the other with deliberate care. She took a deep breath, keeping her hands at her sides, resisting the urge to toy with her necklace or twist a long-lost engagement ring.

 

He noticed her when she was just a few steps away. He smiled, began to speak – some sort of quip, she was sure, related perhaps to her tardiness, or the strange couple bickering in the foyer of the restaurant, but now she would never know. She stepped into the heat of his body, one hand sliding around his waist, the other resting softly on his chest. Their eyes met for the slightest moment before she brushed her lips against his. Hope. Definitely hope.

 

His eyes drifted shut, and hers followed soon after. She deepened the kiss. Her tongue traced his lower lip, her hand drifted upwards to stroke the line of his jaw. She knew she had surprised him again, and she hoped soon he would no longer be startled by her touch.

 

He tilted his head downward – she was lucky he was leaning against the wall, or she would never have been able to reach him in the first place – and opened his mouth against hers. Coffee and cocoa. He moaned slightly, his hands leaving his pockets to wrap around her and pull her close.

 

The gesture was so achingly familiar that she felt tears sting her eyes. He pulled back just slightly, lips a breath away, forehead leaning against hers. He brought a hand to her face, stroking a thumb across her cheekbone.

 

“What’s the matter?” he whispered.

 

“Nothing. I’m sorry,” she mumbled, fighting the urge to break eye contact and duck her head into his shoulder.

 

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured, bringing his lips to hers again. Soon they were lost in each other, his hand in her hair, hers reaching around his torso to feel the muscles of his back. She never wanted to leave the warmth of his body, the heat of his mouth.

 

But eventually they drew apart. He looked into her eyes as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling. “So. What did I do to inspire that?” His voice was soft and intimate in a way she had only heard once before.

 

She smiled, ducking her eyes briefly. “Well. You did handle that tiramisu very well.” She toyed with his shirt collar. “Actually… I just… wanted you to feel how I felt.” She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t have to. He smiled, and it was a little sad, but it was a little understanding, too.

 

The moment was interrupted when a boisterous group of diners burst out of the restaurant, laughing and shouting at one another.

 

They jumped, and looked around sheepishly. He straightened, taking her hand in his. “Well. Shall we blow this popsicle stand?”

 

She raised an eyebrow.

 

“What? Get a move on. Roll. Uh… bounce. Skedaddle.”

 

She laughed. “Okay, okay! Sure, let’s, um… make like a banana and split!” Victory.

 

“Ooh, good one.”

 

“I thought so.”

 

 

He caught her hand in his as they walked back to his car, silence falling over them. When he turned the key in the ignition, the radio flicked on; something quiet and melancholy. Change and loss and bittersweet memories. She stole a glance his profile, watching the concentration on his face. The deliberate motion of his hand as he flicked the turn signal. The meaningless pattern his fingers tapped against the leather of the steering wheel. The ripple of muscle under skin as his forearm dropped to the gear shift.

 

She reached forward, hand drifting down to touch his, fingers trailing lightly between his knuckles, down his hand to the inside of his wrist. He jumped. Their eyes met. His went from surprised to sheepish.

 

He cleared his throat. “Um… maybe we should lighten the mood.” He stabbed a button on the radio at random. Fleetwood Mac disappeared.

 

Wake me up, before you go-go, don’t leave me hanging on like a yo-yo.

 

They both burst out laughing. She recovered first. “Just what this moment needed. George Michael in fluorescent short-shorts. Thank you.”

 

His eyebrows shot up. “Well Pam, if that’s what you’re into, all you need to do is… not… ask.”

 

“Well, good, because there’s no way you could pull it off.”

 

“What?” His voice was indignant. “I could totally pull of fluorescent short-shorts if I wanted to.”

 

“Oh my god. Do you hear yourself? Seriously?”

 

He sighed. “You’re right. I need help. What do I do? I feel so lost.”

 

A few 80s classics and helpful suggestions from Pam later, they were pulling into her parking lot. He parked, twisting off the ignition.

 

The light atmosphere seemed to disappear with the music. Soon they fell back into silence as they walked toward her apartment building.

 

They played a short game of eye contact tag until reaching the elevator. As the doors shut, he looked down at her and grinned. He reached down and hooked her pinky in his. Her eyes met his in surprise and she grinned back at him.

 

When they reached her floor and stepped out of the elevator, he released her hand and she dug through her purse for her keys. At the door, she turned to face him. He stepped closer, his hands moving to slide up and down from her shoulders to her elbows and back again. He sighed her name, and his hands moved up to cup her face as he bent and kissed her. First lightly, then more deeply. She whimpered, and her keys fell to the ground. Her hands moving to fist briefly in the sweater at the small of his back before drifting up to his hair.

 

His hands dropped from her face to wrap around her, pulling her up against him. This time he was the one who moaned.

 

Eventually he pulled back to look at her, laced fingers at the small of her back keeping her close to him. This was the first time they’d kissed in the light. She took in his flushed face and dazed eyes, the tousled hair where her fingers had mussed his fancy new haircut.

 

She reached back up to his hair, tentatively. “Can I…” He nodded, eyes never leaving hers.

 

With both hands, she slid her fingers up into the hair over his brow. His eyes dropped closed and he sighed. With slow movements she combed his shorter hair over his forehead as best she could.

 

Her hand slid down to rest against the line of his jaw. His eyes still closed, she leaned forward on tiptoes to press a soft kiss against his mouth. His eyes opened. Her eyes flicked downward, then back up to meet his. “I don’t want you to go home yet.”

 

His eyes widened slightly. “Okay.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, that sounds good.”

 

She smiled, feeling suddenly shy. “Okay.” Her arms dropped to her sides and he released her. She looked first to her hands, then back to her purse, frowning in confusion.

 

“Um, I think you dropped them.”

 

She looked down. There were her keys, between their feet. She gave him a sheepish glance. “Oh. I forgot.”

 

He bent to retrieve them, smiling as he handed them back to her.

 

She made a face at his smug expression, then unlocked the door. It was a little more difficult than usual, since her hands had suddenly started to shake.

 

 

She unlocked the door and stepped through, flicking on the lights and casting her purse onto a nearby end table. He followed, closing the door behind him.

He took a few steps forward, shoving his hands into his pockets, only to pull them out a moment later to rub the back of his neck. He gazed around her living room.

She paused by the door, watching him examine books and mementos and photographs.

“Wow, your Dundies. I didn’t know you kept them.” He stepped closer to pick one up and read the inscription.

“Well… not all of them.” She stepped closer to look at the one he was holding, her fingertips resting on his wrist. She grinned. “I had to save my whitest sneakers Dundie, though. That’s my crowning achievement at Dunder-Mifflin.”

He laughed, returning the Dundie to its shelf. “Complete with drunken acceptance speech.”

Her smile faded a little.

“What? It was cute.”

She touched his arm, and began to speak, but then stopped. She wouldn't even know where to start. She bounced a little on the balls of her feet. “Um… you want to sit down?”

“Uh, sure.” He went to her couch and sat. He leaned back and tapped his fingers on the armrest, then stopped abruptly and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, clasping his hands lightly between his knees. He looked up at her. “What?”

She smiled. “Nothing. You’re just… fidgeting. That’s all.”

“Me?” His eyebrows rose. “Hey, I’m not the one… bouncing.”

“I’m not bouncing.” She stopped abruptly, pressing her lips together to look at him innocently. “Um… do you want anything?” She glanced toward her kitchen. “I have water. And, um, pomegranate juice. Don’t ask. Oh, and some wine. It’s… red.”

“I think I’m good for now.” He looked up at her. “Do you want to sit down?”

“Uh. Yes.” She moved toward the couch to plop down next to him, legs curled under her. She faced him, head leaning on her hand, propped against the back of the couch. She smiled. “Hello.”

He laughed. “Hi. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Yeah. Who would’ve thought?” Her smile faded and she met his eyes seriously. He reached up with one hand to push a stray lock of hair behind her ear, lingering at the line of her jaw. She leaned into him, her hand moving to rest lightly on his chest as their lips met.

She sighed in relief and his hand moved to cup the back of her head and draw her closer. She leaned more heavily against his chest, opening her mouth against his. His tongue slid in to touch hers, and his free hand moved to run up her side, palm warm against her ribcage.

She leaned further into his touch, and, off-balance, began to topple over. She broke the kiss to catch herself against the armrest, dropping her forehead to his shoulder as she began to convulse with laughter. She could feel his shoulders shake, but when she looked up at him, he affected a concerned look. “You really don’t have to throw yourself at me, you know.”

Face warm, she narrowed her eyes at him, then hooked one leg across his lap to straddle him, looping her arms around his neck. She was a little shocked at her own bravado.

But it was definitely worth it. She watched in fascination as his pupils dilated, and he opened his mouth without speaking for a moment. He swallowed. “Ok, I totally take that back. Feel free.” His hands dropped to her hips, then slid up and down her back. They settled at her shoulder blades as she leaned in to kiss him again.

His lips were soft and warm, his tongue hot against hers. His hands moved restlessly on her back. She slid her fingers up to tangle in his hair. She seemed to be melting into him, until her breasts grazed his chest with every moment and she could feel him hard against her. His hands moved under her blouse to stroke the bare skin at the small of her back. He moaned.

She broke the kiss to lean her forehead against his, panting.

He moved his hands out from under her shirt to drop back down to her hips. He sounded dazed. “Uh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no.” She paused, regaining her breath, shaky fingers toying with his hair. “Jim?”

“Hm?”

She slid her hands back until her fingertips rested on the line of his jaw. She took a deep breath, released it. She met his eyes, forced herself not to look away. “I love you." She paused. "I’m in love with you." She sighed, voice dropping to a whisper. "For so long.”

His fingers tensed on her hips. His jaw tightened briefly and he started to blink. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him, dropping his head to the crook of her neck.

He paused, pressing a kiss there before lifting his head back up to look at her. His voice was rough when he spoke again. “God, Pam, I love you.”

He kissed her again, slow, slow, until she couldn’t feel anything but him. This time, when they drew apart, her voice came in a whisper. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” When he didn’t answer immediately, she flushed. “I mean, if you want to. Do you want to?”

He managed to speak. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

She giggled. “Okay then." She stood up on shaky legs, and he followed. She linked her hand in his. "Let's go."

 

 

She walked backwards, holding his hand in both of hers. Her gaze danced away from the intensity in his eyes, settling on the hand she held. His palm was warm, much larger than hers. She stroked her thumb over his knuckles. His fingers squeezed hers. Long, strong fingers. How many times had she stared in fascination at his hands as he spoke to her, or took a jellybean, or shuffled paper? More than she cared to admit. She felt her face grow warm.

 

She met his eyes again, cleared her throat. “You have nice hands.”

 

A slow smile lit up his face. “Thank you.”

 

Her footsteps slowed as they continued down the hallway, finally coming to stop in the doorway to her bedroom. Hands still linked, he faced her, leaning back against the doorframe. She shifted, gaze drifting to his feet before returning to meet his eyes. He lifted her hands to kiss the inside of one wrist, then the other. He smiled. “You have nice… wrists.”

 

She looked at him for a long moment, then released his hands to step forward and wrap her arms around his neck. She leaned against his chest with a soft sigh, feeling the beat of his heart. He wrapped his arms around her, brushing his lips against her hair before resting his cheek on the top of her head.

 

After a few moments, she leaned back to look at him. He reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. She began to step backward again, wrapped around him this time, kissing his chin, his neck, behind his ear as their feet tangled and he laughed softly into her hair.

 

When they reached the foot of her bed, she let her arms slide down to rest on his chest. His hands moved from her waist to cup her face in both hands, stroking her cheek for a moment before leaning down to kiss her. Her mouth opened, and his tongue slid in to meet hers. He moaned. Her hands drifted down his chest and around his back to slide under his sweater, feeling smooth skin over muscle. His hands moved to slide up and down her back, pulling her closer.

 

But not close enough. She began tugging at his sweater, making a sound of frustration when she couldn’t get it past his arms. He smiled against her mouth. Finally she broke the kiss to make a face at him. She tugged on his sweater again. Pointedly.

 

“Ohhhh.” His face reflected exaggerated confusion. He reached down to grab the hem of his sweater and undershirt, dragging both over his head. As his shirt came off his torso and his head disappeared behind cloth, she reached down to run her hands over his stomach, pressing a kiss to his bare chest. He grunted.

 

When his head reappeared, he reached for her again. She pressed her hands lightly to his chest, ducking her head a little until he paused. When she saw a brief moment of panic in his eyes, she pressed a light kiss on his mouth in silent apology. She met his eyes shyly for a moment before her gaze dropped to her hands on his chest. With slow, careful movements, she slid them down his torso, over his stomach to graze the waistband of his jeans before gliding back upward. They drifted up his chest and down his biceps, then back up to rest lightly on his shoulders.

 

She bit her lip, looking back up into his eyes. She smiled. “And… your shoulders.”

 

This time, when he reached for her, she didn’t pull away. His lips trailed along her jaw and down her neck, lingering at the spot where her neck met her shoulders. “I bet yours are nice, too.” His hand moved to her other shoulder, thumb tracing her collarbone and pushing the sleeve of her blouse aside. He trailed a finger lightly down the strap of her bra. His hands ran down her ribcage to snag the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head.

 

She fought the urge to cross her arms self-consciously, and instead watched his face. His features grew unfocused as he stared at the progress of his hand, moving from her shoulder, fingertips gliding past her collarbone to the top of one breast, thumb pausing to stroke the soft skin there before trailing over to touch the other.

 

She swallowed. “You’re not looking at my shoulders.”

 

His gazed flicked up to meet hers. Dazed surprise turned to laughter. “Oops. You are… right.”

 

One hand dropped to her hip as he stepped closer. He leaned down to plant slow, hot kisses on her shoulder and the crook of her neck as he cupped her breast with his other hand and began to stroke her nipple with his thumb.

 

She clutched his shoulder. “Okay… that’s… good.”

 

He pulled the fabric of her bra down until his thumb was stroking naked skin.

 

The room suddenly felt about fifteen degrees warmer. Standing wasn’t so easy anymore. She edged toward the bed, collapsing backward onto it as he leaned into her. He caught himself with one knee between hers, hands on either side of her head. His mouth returned to her neck. She moaned, and bent her knees to scoot backwards on the bed. Wait. “Shoes.”

 

“Hm?” The sound was a soft vibration against her skin. Her eyes closed. A few moments passed before she could speak again. “We still have our… shoes... on.”

 

“Mm.” Eventually he raised his head to look down at her. His face was flushed, breath shallow and uneven, eyes unfocused.

 

In a swift movement, her fingers were tangling in his hair and she was kissing him, tongue sliding into his mouth. He moaned, shifting until his body pressed against hers. A jolt went through her as bare skin touched. Her hand slid down his spine to press against the small of his back.

 

Eventually they broke apart to take shallow breaths, staring at each other. “Shoes,” he mumbled. He stood abruptly, pulling her shoes off one by one and tossing them aside. He was more careful with her socks, pausing to wrap his fingers lightly around her ankle, thumb rubbing small circles against her skin.

 

Next he pulled off his own shoes and socks, balancing awkwardly on one foot at a time. He crawled back onto the bed, leaning over her. “What’s so funny?” His voice was soft.

 

She grinned, pulling his head down to hers. “Nothing.” She nipped lightly on his bottom lip before leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Pants too.”

 

His eyes widened and he stood again, faster than before. This time she sat up to kneel on the edge of the bed, facing him. She ran her hands down his stomach to rest on top of his as he unbuckled his belt, then unbuttoned his jeans. He let them fall to the floor. She lightly ran her hands down his hips before reaching up to stroke him through the cotton of his boxers. She looked up to meet his gaze. He groaned, closing his eyes briefly.

 

He leaned forward to kiss her once before moving his lips to her ear. “Your turn.”

 

She smiled, and moved backward on the bed again. He kneeled on the bed to undo the button on her jeans. She lifted her hips to help him slide them off her legs and onto the floor.

 

He just looked at her for a long moment, stroking his hands down her hips and over her thighs. He rested a palm on her bent knee.

 

She reached up to curl her fingers around his. “C’mere.” Her voice was soft.

 

He moved to lie down beside her. She shifted to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hooking a leg around his waist. She pressed her cheek to his. “I missed you so much,” she murmured against his jaw.

 

His arms tightened around her. “God, Pam, you have no idea…” He pulled back far enough to kiss her again, hand moving to cup the back of her head.

 

She tightened her leg around his waist, moaning at the feel of him pressed hard against her.

 

His hands slid down her back to fumble with the clasp of her bra. Her mouth left his to trail along his jaw and nibble at his ear.

 

He groaned. “You’re… distracting me.”

 

She grinned. “Sorry.”

 

Finally he succeeded. She leaned back, and his hands settled on her shoulders to slide over her skin, pushing the straps aside.

 

When her bra was off, he moved his hand to slide up her stomach and over her ribcage before cupping her breast and stroking his thumb firmly over her nipple. His mouth trailed down her neck and chest to replace his hand. Her hand found his hair as she gasped his name.

 

His hand slid down her body, lingering at her hip before his fingers trailed lightly over the cotton of her underwear. She whimpered. He slid one finger under elastic feel her, hot and wet. He groaned, and her hips rocked toward him.

 

His hand retreated to slide fingers under the waistband of her underwear. She lifted her hips and he slid them off. She reached for his boxers, helping him tug them down his hips and off. She reached up to stroke him, lightly, rubbing her thumb across his tip. His hips jerked toward her. He dropped his head to her shoulder. His voice was ragged. “You… might not want to do that right now.”

 

He lifted his head and rolled her onto her back. His hand trailed down her body, moving between her legs to stroke her again, fingers moving slowly and lightly at first. He watched her intently, and she fought to keep her eyes open as her hips began to rock against him.

 

His name seemed to fall from her mouth with every touch. With each murmur, he would make a sound between a moan and a sigh, moving just a little bit faster.

 

Soon her hands were sliding into his hair, running over his shoulders and down his arms as she gasped his name. “Please, Jim, now, please.” She wrapped her leg around his waist, urging him closer.

 

He shifted until he was hovering over her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He rested his forehead against hers, and reached down to stroke her once more with his thumb. She arched against him, until he was pressing against her. She looked into his eyes and whispered his name as he sank into her, so slowly. They both moaned, and he stilled, closing his eyes. When he opened them, they were almost black, irises barely visible. She quivered around him, breath fast and shallow.

 

He began to stroke her again as he pulled back slightly and rocked back into her. He kept his gaze trained on hers as her movements grew more frantic beneath him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, palms slid over his shoulders, nails bit into his back. Soon she was clinging to him as she came, crying his name and pulling him closer.

 

As her movements slowed, he paused, painting. He leaned down to kiss her mouth, her cheek, her jaw. She reached up to touch the side of his face. He dropped his head to her shoulder, brushing his lips against her neck. His voice was shaky and rough. “Tell me again.”

 

She wrapped herself more tightly around him. Her voice was a whisper against his ear. “I love you, Jim, I love you, I love you so much.”

 

He groaned, pulling back to sink into her again, deep. She moved a hand to his jaw, urging his head upwards to meet her gaze. He blinked, eyes flickering away before returning to her face. His movements picked up speed. He gasped her name with each stroke. She slid her hands into his hair and over his neck and shoulders and back, rocking her hips to meet his. Soon his movements grew urgent, almost rough. He tightened his hand in her hair and dropped his head to the crook of her neck as he came, groaning her name.

 

She stroked the nape of his neck and planted kisses in his hair as their breathing slowed.

 

Eventually he shifted to his side. She followed, arms around his neck, leg hooked around his waist. He wrapped an arm around her back, palm sliding upward until his fingers tangled in her hair. She shifted to rest a hand on his jaw as his eyes drifted shut and he brushed his lips against hers. She took in the sight of him for a few moments, trust and love and vulnerability clear on his face. When his thumb began to stroke the nape of her neck, her own eyes drifted shut, and she sighed softly against his mouth.

 

They lay quietly, kissing and touching as the sounds of passing cars outside grew less and less frequent. Eventually the room cooled, and she reluctantly moved to grab the comforter that had tangled at their feet. He made a soft sound of disappointment as she shifted from his grasp. Already she missed the feel of his body against hers. As she moved toward him again, he pulled her back into his arms, taking the comforter from her to wrap it around the both of them.

 

She snuggled closer to him, burying her face in his neck and tangling her legs with his. His hand roamed over her back. He was the first to speak, voice unsteady and full of so many things. “You’re… full of surprises lately.”

 

She smiled, then sighed into his neck. “Finally.”

 

He brought his palm to her jaw, sliding his fingers into her hair. When she lifted her head to look at him, he watched her seriously for a moment before kissing the tip of her nose. She giggled softly, and he bent his head to press his lips lightly to hers. Her eyes closed. They lingered there, breath mingling, before deepening the kiss. His thumb stroked her cheek.

 

She felt herself starting to smile. She tried to maintain composure, but soon she was giggling against his mouth. He pulled back to stare at her, mouth slightly agape. “What?”

 

She ducked her head against his chest to laugh before sneaking a look at him again. “Nothing!”

 

“Wow. You just ruined a ‘moment’ for nothing?”

 

“I cannot believe you just used finger quotes on me. In bed.”

 

“Well, you see what you’ve done?”

 

“Okay, okay! Well… I was just thinking.” She hid from his gaze again, voice muffled against his chest. “Is it too late you change my answer to ‘Who Would You Do?’”

 

She lifted her head to look at him. He raised his eyebrows.

 

She grinned wickedly. “Jim…” she reached up to kiss him “…Halpert.”

 

He caught her mouth in another kiss. “Hm… let me think about that.” He rolled her onto her back, propping himself up on his elbows above her. “You know, usually these answers are final.” He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “But, in your case…” He ducked his head and began to nuzzle her neck. “I think something can be arranged.”

 

She made a soft sound of approval, closing her eyes. She reached up to sift his hair through her fingers. “Wow… that was pretty smooth.”

 

He paused to answer, voice low against her ear. “That’s right. And don’t you forget it.”

 

She pressed her cheek to his hair. “Never.”