It started innocently enough. She felt terribly nervous around him now that he was back in the Scranton office. There were new faces as well: Andy and Karen had relocated here when Stamford closed down. And then there were the cameras. Pam thought they would soon have the documentary team out of their hair, but then all the changes came and the producers raised more money so they could extend the filming to capture all the resulting chaos of the merger.

Jim had been back for three days already, and they hadn't said anything more to each other than a faint hello and a nod of the head each morning. Some days he slipped out for the evening while she was away from her desk. It broke her heart that it was so awkward between them, but what could she do? She was sure he must hate her. He never contacted her the entire time he was in Stamford. Once she picked up the phone to call him, on a dreary afternoon back in July when the clouds were so black with threatening thunderstorms that it looked like night time in the middle of the day. But her hand was shaking even as she dialed the number, and when she heard the receptionist's voice she panicked and slammed the receiver down.

Yesterday she thought she caught him staring at her. He was back at his old desk, but he'd moved his monitor so that she wasn't in his direct line of sight. She had wanted to do the same thing, but the design of the reception desk didn't make it convenient to work that way. So she put a plant on the counter, right in the path of where she usually looked up to watch Jim. She did it so she wouldn't have to see all the times he wasn't looking at her. She did it so he couldn't see all the times she wanted to look at him.

But yesterday out of the corner of her eye, she saw him push himself back from his desk, and stretch his arms over his head. A gap in the plant leaves allowed her gaze to linger on him unwatched. He looked so damn handsome to her, more than she had ever truly appreciated. As she stared in admiration, she saw him bring his arms down to his lap and glance at her desk. She didn't think he could see her looking, as his face suddenly dropped the unreadable mask he wore since the day he came back. He glanced back at her desk, and she saw the unmistakeable look of sadness come over him. It made her heart ache, because she knew that look only too well. She saw it in the morning in her bathroom mirror every day Jim had been gone. She turned away, afraid he'd eventually notice she was staring.

Today she had spent the morning looking for more signs of chinks in his armor. She thought she felt his gaze every time he stopped at the copier, which had been quite a few times since today there were sales reports due. She had tried to look up, just to give him an encouraging smile, but their glances never seemed to sync.

At lunchtime she realised she was going to go insane if she didn't do something. But she wasn't brave enough for a confrontation, and she couldn't figure out a way to arrange it that the two of them would be alone together without it seeming horribly contrived. And she was especially conscious of the cameras, because they had obviously been focusing their work this week on the two of them.

She took out a legal pad and wrote a short message. She carefully ripped the paper from the pad and repeatedly folded it into a square small enough to hide in her hand. She looked around at the office, making sure the camera wasn't on her. She stood up, noting that Jim was hunched over his computer. She took a breath, feeling herself starting to shake. She grabbed her teapot as a decoy and slowly walked past Jim's desk. When she was close enough to touch him, she quickly put her hand out and dropped the note on his desk in the space between the keyboard and the monitor. She continued walking to the kitchen, never once looking at Jim.

In the kitchen she felt a bit dizzy as she made her tea. She felt a cloud of doom hanging over her, certain she'd just made a horrible fool of herself. She just prayed that Jim would throw the note away and not share it with anyone. She'd quit her job that very afternoon if anyone else found the note.

As she was walking out of the kitchen, Jim was on his way in. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. She focused her energy on the feeling of the hot teapot in her hands, and not on the spark of desire she felt when he accidently brushed her arm as they passed.

Back at her desk, Pam poured herself the tea and pretended to sort files for Michael. She had been disappointed to find that he hadn't put the note back on her desk. Her message made it very clear she wanted a reply.

An hour passed, and still he made no moves to approach her desk. When Michael left the office for some afternoon errands, Pam stopped pretending to work and started playing Sudoku instead. She sighed, trying to accept that Jim just wasn't going to reply. She had her answer. He wasn't interested in talking to her.

She had just started her second game, when she heard Jim say her name. She nearly jumped out of her chair at the shock. He handed her a manila folder. "I think these are right," he said, his gaze only meeting hers for a moment. He grabbed some jelly beans and immediately went back to his desk.

She opened the folder, expecting to find his reports. Instead she found the page of yellow paper that she has given him earlier. It was only folded in half, instead of the million folds she had done. With hands that could not hide a slight tremble, she unfolded the paper.

Please answer this question, she had written. Are you ever going to say more than 'Hello' to me? Then she had drawn two small squares and labelled one 'yes' and the other 'no'. She thought she was going to faint when she saw that he had ticked the 'yes' box.

He had written below her question: What do you want me to say to you?

Her heart was beating rapidly, and she was pretty sure was turning red at his question. She picked up her pen and let her heart write the truth. She folded the paper in half and stuck it back in the folder before she had time to change her mind. She quickly stood up, and somehow managed to walk back to his desk.

"Um, I think there's a page or two you didn't sign," she said haltingly to him, putting the folder on his desk. She could only bear to cast a quick glance his way before she went back to her desk. Practically falling into her seat, she turned back to her computer and willed herself to breathe. She prayed no one called, or no one came up to the desk, because she felt so scattered she couldn't even concentrate.

She tried to play the easiest level of Sudoku but it was like she couldn't even recognise numbers anymore. She just sat there, staring at the screen, wondering when and if he was going to put her out of her misery with a reply.

Thankfully she hadn't waited more than 10 minutes when Jim reappeared at her desk. He had the folder on the counter, his hand over it. She looked up and their eyes met again. This time she found it just a little easier to maintain eye contact, though she still was the first to look away. He didn't even say anything this time. He just passed the folder to her and walked away.

She felt a flood of nervous energy wash over her and she looked at her own words. I want you to tell me that you still love me. I want you to tell me I haven't ruined everything we had, and everything we could have.

Meet me in the supply closet at 5:15, he had written.

Pam glanced at the clock. Again. It was now 4:33. Exactly 1 minute later than the last time she looked. She had no idea how she was going to survive another 42 minutes.

There were plenty of things she could do: a whole case of new Dunder-Mifflin supply catalogues needed distributing, for a start. But the thought of walking around the office in her state of mind didn't seem like a good idea. The odds were too good that she'd walk right into a wall, or trip over a box of paper. She already knew she wasn't the most graceful person in the world; no sense reminding everyone else, too.

She set herself to mindless tasks, like rewriting Michael's messages until they were letter perfect. She took her big ball of rubber bands apart and sorted them into colors. She dumped her tray of paper clips all over her desk and did the same with those. At one point she realized she was out of staples, so she automatically got up and went to the supply closet.

She opened the door and stepped inside, looking for the last place she'd put the staples. The room always seemed to be in a constant state of neglect. People would grab the things they were looking for and not bother to straighten up the things they'd rummaged through. Pam started to straighten out the stacks of colored paper as she hunted for the staples.

It wasn't an unpleasant place to be, really. She had a quirky little thing for office supplies, which she supposed was a good thing given her job. A new color of highlighter could brighten her whole day. She spent a few more minutes tidying up, putting empty folders back in their boxes, and separating bulletin board tacks from the memo magnets. She found the staples she needed, and opened the door to head back to her desk.

Jim was walking away from the vending machine when he saw her close the office supply closet door. They looked at each other, and Pam felt a little embarrassed, like she was caught doing something she wasn't supposed to do. Jim tilted his head ever so slightly, and gave her an unreadable look. She moved quickly past him, but no longer felt so guilty. She could have sworn he looked like he was fighting not to smile.

She was relieved to see that she had killed another twenty minutes off the clock while she was in the supply closet. She was tempted to go back and do more tidying, but thought better of it. It would make it seem like she was trying to make it nicer for their meeting, she mused. Which probably wouldn't be a bad thing, but would make her look even more neurotic than she felt right now. It wasn't like it was a date, she thought. They were just meeting to talk, and the supply closet provided the opportunity to do that without staring eyes. Or running cameras.

She watched the office staff trickle slowly out. Kevin was the first to go, his coat already on at 4:55pm. Oscar, Stanley and Toby left next, along with Kelly who was trying to talk Ryan into doing something together after work. Phyllis left when Bob Vance of Vance Refrigeration stopped in to pick her up, and Meredith followed shortly after. Pam didn't see Creed leave, but she couldn't remember if she saw him in the office at all today anyway. She watched Dwight and Angela each tidy off their office desks, and put their coats on. She found it hysterical that while they didn't even so much as look at each other, their movements were so synchronized that it was obvious they were leaving together. Not leaving at the same time, leaving together. Pam wondered why the cameramen hadn't started focusing on those two and leave her and Jim alone. Dwight and Angela would make a terrifying, but hypnotic reality show couple, she thought with a smile.

She felt a flutter in her stomach when Dwight and Angela left, because she knew Jim was the only other person left in the office. She turned off her computer, and escaped to the sanctuary of the women's restroom. She stood in silence, trying to control the excitement that was so mixed with anxiety that she couldn't tell them apart. She reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out the yellow paper she'd folded so carefully. She took a minute and reread every word on the page, just to be absolutely sure she had read it correctly. She had, so she folded it back up and put it back in her pocket. She waited there until her watch said exactly 5:15. Then she walked out of the restroom and headed to the supply closet.

Her hands felt ice cold as she opened the door to the closet. There was still enough light coming in through the frosted window that she didn't bother to turn the overhead light on. Jim wasn't there, but somehow she hadn't expected him to be the first one. To hide her rising nervousness she went back to straightening up the supplies. She had just started to order the file labels by color when she heard the door open. Her back was to the door, but she suddenly felt incapable of movement. She heard the door shut, and then reminded herself to breathe again. She put the labels on the counter and made herself turn around.

Jim. Standing next to the door, leaning slightly against the frame. His hand was on the door knob, as if he was assuring himself he could leave if he needed to. Pam worried what his body language was saying, but then she looked up into his eyes. The fire she saw in them made her realise that he wasn't holding onto the door knob to let himself out. He was holding on to it to make sure she stayed in.

"Hey," he said. God, how could anyone say so much with just a simple 3 letter word? She wondered.

"Hi," she said softly. "Welcome back."

He looked down for a moment, a small smile passing over his face. When he looked back up, he took his hand off the door knob and took a step towards her. "Thanks."

Pam swallowed. "Um, so - are you glad to be back?"

He made that face that always made her melt a little. (Hell, every face makes me melt a little, she thought.) He looked at the ceiling, squinting slightly, then looked back at her. "It's too early to tell," he said. "But I was thinking that today was showing some promise."

She looked away, blushing at his inference. She loved that he said it, but she felt too shy to say so. Instead she took a step closer to him, and made herself look back up at him. "Well, I'm very glad you're back," she told him. She saw something in his eyes that made her feel a little more confident. Stepping even closer, she put her hand on his bicep. "I've really missed you," she said, her voice only slighty above a whisper.

Her slight touch was all he needed. He immediately bridged the distance between them and gathered her up. He puts his arms completely around her, and buried his head in her hair. He held her so close she could feel their bodies touching at every point between her shoulders and her knees. She was grateful she had him to lean on, as she was sure she wasn't standing on her own anymore. His body felt so incredibly warm, strong and soft at exactly the same time.

"Oh, Jim," she couldn't help from saying softly. Her fists clutched at his shirt much like the last time she was in his arms. She pressed her face against his chest, partly to take in his scent, partly to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. "God, how I've missed you," she said, her voice muffled against his body.

Jim pulled back to look into her eyes. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something, when instead he just leaned down and kissed her. Tenderly at first, but then Pam put her arms up around his neck and pulled his head down closer to hers. The rising intensity of their kiss made Pam take a few steps back, until she felt the cutting counter against her back. She liked the pressure she was now feeling, Jim pressing tightly against her and she having nowhere to go but back against him.

Jim's kiss was insistent and demanding, and she gave in without hesitation. The first time she felt his tongue against her lip she felt like she had just received an electric shock. She gripped his shoulders tighter, and stood up on her tiptoes. When his tongue found its way into her mouth she let out a moan, and gently sucked at it, almost refusing to give it back.

She felt Jim weaving his long fingers through her hair, removing her barette and throwing it on the floor with a clatter. The sound it made would have made her giggle if she wasn't so completely lost in his touch. Pressed so close together she soon became very aware of how much he wanted her. The thought both thrilled and frightened her.

Somehow she managed to regain a little of her composure. She slowly broke off the kiss, and moved her head so that his attempt to try and kiss her again failed. He took a half step back, and she saw a look on his face that worried her. She suspected he thought she was trying to make him stop.

"Hey," she said, her voice rough with emotion. "I thought you were going to tell me something."

"I'm trying to," Jim replied.

Then their eyes met and they both started smiling sheepishly at each other. She heard the sound of Jim's deep laugh come bubbling up. "God, how I've missed that laugh," she told him, her hands still on his shoulders. She brushed her right hand up and down his upper arm. "I hope I never have to go another day without hearing it."

He tightened his arms around her waist again, and leaned down so their faces were but millimeters apart. "We have so much to talk about," he sighed, kissing her forehead. "We have so much to make up for."

She nodded. "I don't have any other place to be but here with you. That is, if you still want me."

He laughed again. "If?" He couldn't resist pulling her even closer. "How much clearer do I need to make it?" he said in a gruff voice.

Pam felt herself blush, but pulled herself even closer, if that was possible. "Message received," she replied, slightly breathless at her boldness. "Now are we going to continue this, um, discussion right here, or could we perhaps move to a more suitable location?"

Jim looked around. "Oh, I don't know," he said. "This place seems kind of appropriate to me."

"Jim!" she objected, pinching his arm.

He gave her the most natural, brillant smile she had seen in months. "Oh, okay, Beesley. Have it your way. I just thought it would make the coming workdays a little easier to bear if we had some place with some good memories associated with it."

Her heart soared to hear him say her name again that way. She shook her head. "Maybe next time, Halpert."

They spent a moment wrapped in each others arms again, then left the supply closet, intent on making their way back to each other.