Jim couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Pam was kissing him. Pam was kissing him. Pam was kissing him.

Up until tonight a scene like this had only ever played out for him within the haze of a dream. But nothing about this moment was hazy. In fact, everything was astonishingly clear. He could feel, with perfect clarity, the pressure of her lips against his, and the soothing way she slid her fingers along the side of his neck as she slowly drew them up to his scalp, holding him gently, but firmly, in this position. The only thing he couldn’t be sure about was how long this had been going on.

Finally, reluctantly, he pulled back a bit. He gave her a look that he hoped would let her know that he’d only stopped kissing her because they were in a crowded restaurant, and that he fully intended to start kissing her again as soon as they were out of said restaurant, and that was when he realized that instead of just looking at her he should really say something. But what was there to say?

Just say something, you idiot; she’s standing right there!

But what? What do you say to your best friend who you’re in love with and who you know for sure loves you too when you haven’t talked to her—really talked to her, that is—in almost a year?

In the end he had to rely on something simple.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” she responded with a smile, before straightening up fully and moving back to her seat. He watched her settle into her chair, and wondered what to say that would keep her from closing up. He could see the wandering glances, the folded hands, and the small absent-minded smile that meant she was starting to feel nervous about her bold move. He desperately racked his brain for the right words, but somehow saying everything in letters had left him now at this critical moment with nothing to say.

“So…” Pam began.

“So.” There was a pause that lasted a little too long as they both tried to focus on anything but the person sitting across from them.

“This is weird, huh?” she said finally, with a sheepish look in her eyes.

“Well, it wasn’t until you mentioned it,” he said, still trying to keep her from noticing the awkwardness that threatened to stifle them.

“Oh, right…” He saw her cringe a little and he shook his head in frustration. He’d meant it as a joke, but, obviously, it really was awkward and now he feared he’d only made it worse.

This was ridiculous. Here he was with Pam, all the cards had already been laid on the table, and now he couldn’t even talk to her?

“So, have you had a nice evening so far?” he asked, trying to ease his way into this conversation.

“I have, in fact. I got to do a little touring in my own hometown.” Her eyes lit up and he could tell she really had enjoyed going back to all those places they’d enjoyed together.

“Really? Well then, I’m assuming you stopped by our world-renowned—”

“Jim,” she cut him off quietly.

“Yeah?” he asked, looking up at her.

“Are we gonna talk about all this?” The nervous look was back on her face, and he realized it was the second time in the last ten minutes that his fall-back strategy of trying to joke his way out of a tense moment had fallen short.

He took a deep breath and then let it out in a slow sigh. “Yeah. We can talk about it.”

“Okay, good.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah…soooo….”

And that was when their food arrived.

-----

“So how long have they been together?” Allie asked.

“Well, he said years, but that’s not what I would’ve guessed from the looks of things,” Megan replied.

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Do you think maybe we should do something? I mean he went to all this trouble. I just feel bad for him.”

“I don’t know. It’s probably better to let them figure out on their own.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“What are we whispering about?” Rachel asked, poking her head between the two other servers.

“That couple over there,” Megan answered.

“Which one?” Rachel asked.

“Table 12,” said Allie.

“Is that the guy that was hiding out in the kitchen for so long?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I thought he was friends with someone on the staff.”

“Nope. Just some random guy that wanted to surprise his date.”

“Huh,” Rachel said. Megan and Allie both turned to look at Rachel.

“Uh-oh. I’ve seen that face before,” Megan teased.

“Rachel, what are you planning?” Allie asked.

“Nothing! I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, I have to get back to work.”

Allie and Megan exchanged another look while Rachel walked back to the kitchen. Then they turned their attention back to Table 12. Hopefully whatever Rachel had up her sleeve would work, because at the moment the poor couple looked downright miserable.

-----

It had been sixteen minutes since either of them had said something. Pam knew because there was a clock on the wall that, from her vantage point, hung just to the left of Jim’s head. She had no idea why she’d clammed up, but now the silence had gone on too long to try to break it with a cough or something, so instead she just took another bite of her pasta.

Her gaze fell on the clock again. It had been almost seventeen minutes and this was so unlike them. Whether they were talking about Michael’s latest crush on one of the girls from the TV guide channel, or imitating Kevin as he tried to explain something complex to Angela, they had always had something to say. The only other times she could remember them being this quiet around each other were when they were fighting, and today they were definitely not fighting. Pretty much the opposite, in fact.

So why was it, she wondered, that now that they were finally together, and back to being friends again, she suddenly felt like everything she wanted to say would sound stupid, or inappropriate. This was supposed to be their big romantic night and here she was, choking down noodles and staring at the tablecloth.

She sighed inwardly and checked the clock again. Eighteen minutes. This was going to be a long night.

-----

“Excuse me, sir? There seems to be a problem with your order; can I speak to you privately for a moment?” Jim gave the waitress a confused look that only intensified when she widened her eyes silently urging him to agree to talk to her.

“Oh, uh, sure. Do you mind, Pam? I’ll be right back.” He hoped Pam couldn’t hear the tinge of relief in his voice at this interruption. At this point he would’ve welcomed anything that would break the nervous energy that seemed to have them both trapped in their chairs, unable to say a word.

He followed the waitress to the back of the restaurant.

As soon as they stepped through the doors to the kitchen she rounded toward him. “What is your problem, man? You’re tanking!”

“Huh?”

“Your date! You had it all set up and you know, we all thought it was super romantic and stuff, but now you’re just sitting there. Don’t you like this girl?”

“Of course I like her! I love her!” Jim replied defensively. “And besides, it really isn’t any of your business.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Who did this girl think she was, anyway?

“Well, excuse me for trying to help! I just thought you might want a minute to come back here and come up with something to say.”

Jim had to concede that the waitress had a point. When he didn’t respond she asked if she could help him with anything, maybe give him some conversation starters, or even a good pick-up line. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and then dismissed her with a quick, “No, thanks."

He already knew how to talk to Pam. He’d been doing it for years. And he’d already been talking to her for hours through his letters, but somehow writing out his feelings hadn’t been nearly as difficult as actually trying to tell them to her in person.

An idea occurred to him then that he almost dismissed as way too lame, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. Maybe this could work…

-----

Things didn’t get much better when Jim returned. He just sat down and began eating again, and she returned to her former position, counting squares on the tablecloth. She was still trying to think of something to say when she looked up again and noticed him writing something on a piece of paper he seemed to have conjured up out of nowhere. He had his hand over it so she couldn’t see what he’d written, but when she looked a little closer she could tell that the paper was some kind of promotional flyer for the restaurant.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Just hold on.”

“Jim, what…?”

Without saying anything else, he slid the paper over to her side of the table and smiled.

She gave him another puzzled look and then picked up the paper.

Pam,

I thought it might be easier to do this on paper, and I think I was right. As sad as this sounds, I think we might need to ease ourselves back into the whole spoken conversation thing.

So here’s my proposition. Twenty questions. On paper. My turn first.

Did you have fun on the little treasure hunt thing today?

Love you,

Jim

She giggled a bit when she finished reading. This was probably the dumbest thing anyone had ever done on a first date, but even so, she couldn’t help but love it. Instead of asking him out loud she looked up and mimicked writing something while giving him a questioning look. Then she held her hand out.

It only took him a second to hand over his pen. She beamed back at him as their fingers brushed.

Jim,

Of course I had fun! But you wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I had to go through to find all your letters. That’s okay, though. I’d go through a lot more than that for you!

Okay, here’s my question. Did Marsha ever tell you how she found my letters?

Love you too!

Pam

A minute later, she had her reply.

Marsha never said exactly how she found them. Actually, I don’t know what happened to her. She just mysteriously left town and I haven’t been able to get a hold of her since.

Anyway, next question…

Are you really in love with my eyebrows?

Yours,

Jim

Pam handed the paper back to him a few seconds later.

My Jim,

When did I say I was in love with your eyebrows?

Your Pam

Jim quickly replied.

In your last letter, you said something about my eyebrows shooting up when I look at Dwight. I gotta know, Beesly. Eyebrows? Really? Because I had no idea you were that kind of girl, haha. Also, you didn’t answer the question. That means I get to go twice.

1. Are you as nervous about this as I am?
2. Do you think we should try to keep our relationship a secret at work?

-----

Jim couldn’t help but smile as he watched her read the latest note. He took another sip of water as she began writing, and congratulated himself on finally getting them talking. Well, it was almost like talking, anyway.

He knew it would get easier to actually talk once they both got used to the idea that this was really happening. But for now, he’d take whatever he could get. Pam handed him the sheet of paper and the pen, and he looked down at what she’d written.

Dear Cheater,

I can’t believe you’re making up your own rules for 20 questions! Anyway, here are my answers.

1. Yes. VERY nervous, in fact.
2. No. They’re going to find out anyway, and besides that, I really don’t want to end up as the next Dwight and Angela. Wait, you know about that, right? I think I mentioned it in one of my letters. Did you get that one? (Oh, and those don’t count as separate questions by the way.)
3. Yes. I do love your eyebrows. Dork.

With love,

Pam

He smiled again as he read her greeting. After he finished reading he wrote back.

Well then I suppose there might be 1 or 2 things about your face that I love too. Like your nose, and your cheeks and your smile…

Anyway, yes. I did know about Dwight and Angela from your letter, and it’s been nagging at me ever since I found out! I really want to do something to mess with them, but I’ve been a little busy trying to get this girl to fall in love with me…

Next question: When exactly did you call off the wedding?

Jim hesitated a little as he reread his question. He wasn’t sure he really wanted to get into all this right now, but he figured this might be the easiest way to get everything out in the open, so he handed the pen and paper back to her.

About a week after you left. I’m sorry I didn’t call you. Forgive me?

He looked across the table to see her watching him, an anxious look on her face. He smiled reassuringly and wrote his reply.

Definitely! So what should we do about Dwight and Angela?

Her answer didn’t take her long to write but he noticed that just as he had done a minute before, she also hesitated for a minute before handing it over.

Do we have to do anything? I mean, they seem really happy together. That first sentence wasn’t a question, by the way. It just looks like one. Here’s the real question: When did you start dating Karen?

With an internal sigh he wrote back.

A couple weeks before I moved back here. It was so stupid. I was just afraid to face you again after…everything. And honestly, I knew she was into me and that was kind of nice and I knew I’d be able to make Michael jealous of my new girlfriend, so… To be perfectly honest, I probably wanted to make you a little jealous too. I’m sorry about that. Do you forgive me?

He didn’t bother looking up until he could be sure that she’d read the whole thing. But when he dared to face her, she was still smiling.

Always. Okay, two questions this time:

1. What question are we on?
2. Do you think we should try talking instead of writing now?

Jim chuckled to himself as he composed his reply.

Answers:

1. No idea.
2. As much as I’m enjoying this, you’re probably right. We should at least try talking. Otherwise we have a long life ahead of us filled with pens and stationery. Good thing we work at a paper company.

Questions:

1. Do you have any idea how much I’m in love with you?
2. Will you be my girlfriend? Please say yes. (Out loud, if you can manage it.)

Pam looked up with a grin.

“Yes,” she said, happily.

“Good,” he grinned, “because my second choice was Phyllis, but you know she’s engaged so it might have been a little difficult to get her to change her mind.”

Pam giggled a little, and suddenly he knew for a fact that one of his new goals in life would be getting her to laugh like that as often as possible.

“I think they want us to leave.” Pam whispered, leaning across the table.

Jim was surprised to realize that Pam was right. In the time it had taken them to pass their notes back and forth, they had also somehow managed to make it all the way through dinner and dessert. He hadn’t noticed the check sitting on the table. He wondered how long it had been there.

-----

“So how long do you think we can keep this going?” Pam whispered loudly as Jim put his arm around her and led her out the door.

“Keep what going?” he whispered back.

“The not talking thing.”

“Aren’t we talking now?” he asked before opening her car door for her.

“This is whispering. There’s a difference.”

“Oh, right. I have no idea, then.”

“Because, you know,” Pam said with a sly smile, “I was thinking that there are probably a few other things that we could do tonight that wouldn’t involve much talking.” She knew she probably shouldn’t even be considering this, but she couldn’t help herself. And she’d had so much fun at dinner that she just didn’t want the night to end yet.

“Really?” he asked, his voice sounding a little strained. “You mean like charades?”

“Or chess,” she said, looking at him in a way that she hoped would convey what she was really trying to say.

“Or a movie?”

“Nah, I always talk through movies,” said Pam.

“And I’m a terrible chess player. But, you know, I mean—I guess, well, we could do something else.”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” she teased.

“Oh,” Jim said, making a face. He stepped back slightly. “Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s too soon, isn’t it?”

“I was kidding,” Pam said, reaching out for his hand. “I don’t think it’s too soon at all. In fact, I think we’ve already been waiting way too long.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Jim said.

He leaned down to kiss her again and she was pretty sure that she’d never been this giddy in her entire life. As his lips met hers she wondered what on earth had taken them so long.