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.

Pam felt like a spectator. She was there watching what was going on but not deciding anything her body was doing.

She had a vague memory of waving goodbye and apologising to all the camera operators because she couldn't concentrate, getting awkwardly out of her chair, and heading for her desk at the reception without being able to stop smiling.

She was grateful that Jim had left before she could get out of the conference room, because if she already felt dizzy for just a few seconds, looking at his profile for the rest of the hours could lead to a blackout.

A date? With Jim Halpert?

Two days ago it seemed so far away she couldn't quite believe it.

"Pam," Dwight spoke in front of her. She hadn't even noticed he was standing in front of her, "Could you fax this?"

"Uh..." She didn't know what to say. "Yeah, sure"

But she didn't get anything because her mind was too absent to know how the fax machine worked.

"Your face is red, your eyes seem to go all over the place, and you can't coordinate your actions," Dwight's eyebrows drew together in suspicion, "You didn't come to work sick, did you, Pamela?"

For a moment, Pam was tempted to let it go with a flat ‘no', but no matter how much these ten minutes said otherwise, she was a smart girl. And if she agreed with Dwight, she could go home and think about what a turning point in her life it was to have a date with the man who had filled her heart for years even when she wasn't aware of it.

Wow, someone is being a bit melodramatic.

"Yeah," she faked a cough to add momentum to her performance, "I didn't think it would be that noticeable. Coming to work is a big deal and I didn't want to be seen as a slacker in the office"

She had known Dwight Schrute too long to know what to say to win his favour. When she saw his face form a grimace similar to pride she patted herself on the back.

"Well done, Beesly."

Just like that, Pam headed back to her bachelorette flat (could she still call it a bachelorette if she started dating Jim? And why was she thinking of something so rash now?) and poured herself a well-deserved tea to calm her nerves.

All right, she was going on a date with Jim. She didn't know where or what time or anything like that, but didn't care because it was her first official date with James Duncan Halpert.

And, again, she smiled.

Finally, a few hours later - at 6:30 p.m specifically, -not a minute more, not a minute less - Jim was at the door of her house waiting for her to finish coming downstairs. They had sent each other a couple of messages where she has sent the location of her house and he has let her know the time he would come to pick her up, but nothing more than a couple of innocent texts that had nothing to do with everything they were both holding inside.

They had too much to explain to each other.

So they both got into Jim's car and he drove them towards Cugino's. All the way there Jim was telling him how their interview had gone, the whole Michael and Jan thing, and how the job was in Jan's position.

"I don't think they had anything. He's a minor."

"I'm telling you Beesly, Jan and Hunter have been snogging each other." Jim's steering wheel movements were precise as he tried to park. Pam had never been so aware of how good his hands looked gripping the steering wheel, how his arms flexed sideways, and how close his face was to hers as he turned practically his entire body in an attempt to look back.

Actually, she had rarely been as aware as she was now of Jim's body and how it made her feel all hot and bothered by just looking at it. Well, Pam knew he was very attractive, very tall, and that his hands were big with long, perfect fingers, but whether it was because she was engaged or because he had a partner, she had rarely let herself appreciate for more than a second the masculine energy every of his movements gave off.

But now they were both single, in the same city - which was a pretty big deal, if someone asked for her opinion - and in the middle of a date (in the middle? Starting? She wasn't quite sure yet, but the point was perfectly understood). There was nothing to stop her eyes from flying to her jaw, which was clenched tightly in concentration; her hair, now short but so neatly combed that it only tempted her to run her hands through it until those unruly locks at the end of her neck could be seen again; her long, strong-thighed legs; or, again, her hands. Because Pam Beesly could write a whole book on how perfect Jim Halpert's hands were.

"Pam? Are you there?" When her eyes returned to his face she could see that mischievous smile grace his lips. It was clear that Jim had caught Pam in her ‘mere male appreciation' moment.

"I wasn't looking at anything, I was just thinking" Pam could have held her gaze as if to try to prove her point, that she was the Fancy New Beesly (said by Jim, not by her) who wasn't ashamed of what she thought and said. But... oh, it just so happened that she needed some of his.... uhm... Bag! Yes, her bag!

She needed something that was inside her bag urgently. Or rather, she needed to make sure that something, anything at all, was in her bag. Something very important, as important as, well.... Some coins that had slipped out of her purse! What if something happened and she was a few pennies short of the money needed for a taxi? Those coins were important, she needed to find them and keep them in her pocket in case something happened.

So she made sure she was a cautious girl - not someone who was ashamed of being caught watching someone too intently - and fixed her eyes on the purse, not Jim Halpert.

Ugh, she thought to herself, the next item on her list of ‘things FNB should look out for' would be to avoid blushing.

I'll b 2moro at Scranton. We need 2 talk 4 real. 

A text message from his ex is not what Jim was looking for that afternoon. He'd be lying if he said he didn't expect it, in the end it was his fault for leaving her THAT way, but he wanted it to be a night just for Pam and him.

When the car was parked Jim took it upon himself to open the passenger door for her, earning smile from Pam. He felt equal parts like shaking and hugging Roy Anderson for being such a fool and not giving Pam ‘fucking’ Beesly the whole world.

And especially since the moment of intense stares she'd directed to him in the car.

He couldn't blame her. For many years Jim himself had taken to scrolling over and over Pam's image from his office desk, the lunch breaks they spent together, or just any time his eyes could roam over her entire body without being caught by her.

Or for Roy, because he was grateful that the pepper-spray incident had been isolated and at the end of it all, not while he was still living with Mark in their shared flat and had no escape to any other state in the country.

He liked the curve of her nose, her big green eyes that said so many things and her lips, which he'd tasted once before (actually twice, but the first one - though he counted it as a first kiss because, damn, that brief touch had been like a shot of adrenaline through all his muscles - hadn't been as deep as that time during the casino night). He liked her legs and how, as always, he felt the urge of tugging at her stockings and touching the soft and milky skin from her thighs once and for all.

And he also liked her body. And the anticipation of knowing what was hidden behind those office clothes she herself had been forced to wear in front of the intense stares of her office mates.

So no, he could do nothing but smile even wider at the red that adorned Pam's cheeks.

Jim knew it was a lie the instance she ducked his head as if looking for something in his bag to avoid eye contact. Being a total gentleman, and because he didn't want to make Pam feel really uncomfortable from the start, he ignored all the falsehood in that sentence and they both walked calmly to the entrance of the restaurant.

“So... Cugino's? How come you thought of this restaurant?”

“I don't know, I thought it was a good place to have dinner” The smile on both of their faces was complicit. “I haven't been here in a long time.”

“Of course, that's understandable," she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing (which Jim was quite aware of). “There's no other reason?”

“I don't know where you're going, Beesly.” Yes he did, but since he'd been a good boy and ignored his partner's prying eyes, now it was Pam's turn to be the one to drop the bombshell that weighed so heavily on his shoulders. The reason they'd come here for dinner.

“Sure...” She exaggerated the "u" sound, "It has nothing to do with this being the first place we went to eat together when you came to Dunder Mifflin?”

“Oh, you're right” His fake surprise was totally on purpose, and this time, as much as her teeth wanted to catch her lip, the laugh came out on its own so purely that his heart pounded harder than usual.

Wow, he didn't know how he'd been able to keep all that inside him for so many months, or how for over half a year he'd been trying to fool himself that his heart was doing these weird things for Karen and not Pam. That made him a complete idiot, didn't it?

“How convenient Jim Halpert... So does that mean I'm the thoughtful one between the two of us?” God, he wanted to kiss her. Was it okay to kiss on the first date? Had their date really started when the waitress hadn't even asked about drinks?

“Are you turning dinner into a competition? That's very you, Pam”

“It's rude to answer a question with a question," she feigned annoyance. “And it's not a competition, I'm just spitting FACTS”

“Well, the one who gave away a teapot full of memories about their friendship wasn't you, it was me," he held out one of his fingers as if making a count. Pam's eyes automatically moved to her hands, "I organised a first non-date on the rooftop and even got fireworks...” another finger. 

“Oh, is that how you want to play it?”

“Not that it wasn't a competition?” he replied in a playful tone

“Shut up Halpert," he bit his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. Pam Beesly, ladies and gentlemen “The kettle came into my hands because I decided to trade the IPod, for you. Oh, and I bought my own soda so you could talk to me.”

“That wasn't thoughtful, that was selfish. You made me suffer all day until you got bored. The whole office still believes that a family member of mine has been a drug addict.”

“ It's not my fault there were no Cokes left in the machine," she shrugged in a way that Jim thought was cute. He really couldn't kiss her? Who said you couldn't kiss your date before the date even started?

Surely this person hadn't been in love with the same girl for five years and was finally getting a chance to go out with her.

“Anyway," he continued, "there's no way you can beat me at this. I let you see my yearbook! There's no greater show of love than letting the girl you like see your yearbook.”

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Four seconds.

He had dropped in the same sentence the two bombshells of the night. The L-word and the fact that he liked her. Well, the last one was pretty clear, otherwise they wouldn't be here, but that just reminded her that they had too much to talk about.

Before Pam could answer anything, the waitress came back to ask them what they wanted to eat.

Saved by the bell.

"I'd like the stuffed pasta with the spinach sauce. How about you, Jim?"

"A plain meat lasagne" he was grateful that Pam was too busy looking at the menu (a.k.a. running away from his gaze again) to notice that his cheeks were just as red as hers from what had just happened.

He was almost 30! Why did he act like he was 15?

“So Beesly," he tried to change the subject, "what did I miss at the office today?”

“Oh," he got excited, "you've missed a few things too. You're talking to Dwight's spy and main supporter, our regional manager..." she began to recount the day's events. 

“What!? You've allied yourself with Dwight? I- I feel pretty betrayed, Beesly. I didn't think you would be capable of something so cruel to me.” 

“Well, I need to ally myself with the boss if I'm going to get those extra holiday days. Besides, it was good entertainment until Michael got back.”

“Still, there are lot of better ways to pass the time than Dwight, like sticking every pencil in the office in your eyeballs one by one” All right Jim, make her laugh “And if Michael got the job, what were you gonna do?”

“They weren't gonna give it to him.”

“You sound so sure, you forget that Michael is one of the best salesmen Dunder Mifflin has ever had.”

“But there was you," she blurted out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You're very good at your job and you're worth more than just sitting at a shared office desk in Scranton," her brows furrowed slightly. “I don't understand David, that position should be yours-“

“I didn't want it.”

Oh, shit. Jim thought. Shit, shit, Shit, shit. It wasn't something I should be blurting out loud right now.

But Pam was standing in front of him saying that she was basically counting on him to be able to get a lot much out of his life by trusting him. It didn't feel right hearing that speech when she didn't have all the information on the table.

“Excuse me?” Pam's eyes widened wider than Jim thought possible.

“That I didn't want it. I told David Wallace I didn't want the job.”

“Are you crazy!? This was your chance to go for something else!”

Something else? What more did he need? He had Pam Beesly in front of him, her eyes sparkling, her ring finger completely free and sitting across from him on a date. And a real date!

He'd spend a thousand years selling paper with Dwight next to him if it meant being with Pam at least a few minutes a day. 

“I like Scranton."

"Oh, really?" Pam asked playfully.

The reality is that a relationship like theirs did not happen overnight. Both Jim and Pam had thousands of things to talk about and thousands of secrets to let out. Years of knowing glances, intimate moments and emotional backpacks the size of paper mills. But in that moment, with the tips of their shoes brushing under the table, their fingers getting closer and their eyes - finally - showing all that passion, all that love, nothing mattered.

Because they weren't Karen's boyfriend and Roy's fiancée. They were Jim and Pam. In love, single, happy and willing to -for once- give themselves THE chance to love each other, to be together and to live the epic love story that everyone sees in the movies but they know they deserve.

Because they were a yoghurt lid, a teapot, a starry night at the casino, fireworks from the rooftop and a melted cheese sandwich.

"When I saw your note I remembered that this city has things that New York can't give me," Jim never took his eyes off hers. He wanted Pam to understand, to get the message.

New York was missing someone. 

“Something special?” and the nervous play of her fingers made it clear that they were on the same page. 

“Yes," he smiled helplessly, "someone rather special.”

Not something, someone. 

New York was missing you. 

just to let you know this story finally makes sense and it's finished!!!!!

love u like jim loves pam (and like pam loves jim)

xoxo