Her hair was nearly in his mouth and itchy against his cheeks. Her skin was warm against his-almost too warm. He wanted to move his arm because he couldn't really feel it anymore, but at the same time he couldn't fathom doing anything that might disturb their position, because he was pretty sure that this was the most comfortable he'd ever felt in his life.

So instead he did his best to gently blow her hair off of his face and closed his eyes again to savor the sensation of lying next to her. Even in his wildest dreams, he hadn't realized that it would be like this. His breathing deepened again, and as he drifted back to sleep his last semi-conscious thought was that he should probably make sure pretty soon that Pam really did want to marry him someday, because he couldn't imagine spending another night alone after doing this.

-----

Soft. Warm. Surrounded. She felt like she was sinking in a lukewarm, cottony-plush ocean. The rising and falling of her chest mimicked the motion of the waves. Her eyes were still closed, but she wasn't dreaming anymore. Behind her closed eyelids she could tell that the sun was beginning to fill her bedroom. No, not her bedroom...Jim's bedroom...no, Jim's living room...Jim.

Her eyes flew open and focused on the strands of chest hair that were poking out of his thin T-shirt just centimeters away from her nose. For a second her whole body stiffened. Her first thought was that she shouldn't be here. How had she ended up like this, curled into his body on his couch? She instantly panicked; sure that whatever had happened would ruin their friendship, or their non-friendship or whatever it was they were doing at this point.

Then, just as quickly, she remembered. With a silent sigh of relief, she relaxed into him again. A slow smile spread across her face as the details of the night came back to her. Since they had both had their cars with them at the restaurant, he had followed her home so she could pick up a few of her things. The ride over to his new apartment had been a little tense until she'd suddenly decided to reach over and just grab his hand. It was strange how just that little bit of physical contact was enough to keep the tension away.

Around three or four o'clock in the morning they'd both decided that they were too excited to sleep, but too exhausted to continue their previous activities, so they'd settled down on the couch to watch a movie. Apparently they'd been more tired than they had thought.

He was lying on his left side. She was surprised that he hadn't fallen off the couch in the middle of the night. His right arm was cradling her close to him, disappearing between her back and the couch cushion. His left arm jutted out so that he was holding his own head with his left hand. Her head was resting against his arm like it was a pillow.

Her arms were spread around him, too. One folded up against his chest, the other draped over his waist. His legs were tangled up in hers and she couldn't really tell where his boxers ended and her borrowed sweats began. But as close as they were, it wasn't uncomfortable. Far from it, in fact.

She sank into him a little bit more, trying not to wake him. She knew they'd eventually have to wake up and move, but she wanted to make this last as long as she possibly could. In a way it was almost scary how happy she felt at this moment. Like it was tempting fate that everything could have turned out so right after so long. Any minute now she expected to wake up and find herself alone in her room, to find out it had just been a dream. Or maybe she'd roll over and see Roy's back instead, his familiar light snoring mocking her fantasies.

But no, it was real. She kept her eyes open just so she couldn't imagine that it wasn't actually happening when she knew that it really was. It had taken them years to get to this point and she wasn't about to give in to her fears. She knew she was finally here, and she knew that he was, too. His letters had made everything clear, and he had definitely reassured her of it last night.

Ten minutes later, she realized that as much as she was still enjoying this feeling, she really had to go to the bathroom. She cautiously extracted herself from his arms and climbed off the couch. She stopped for just a second to look at him. Asleep, he looked so peaceful that she wondered what he was dreaming about. Wondered if he had ever dreamed about her the way she'd spent so many nights dreaming about him.

-----

He woke up to find himself alone on the couch. He glanced around the living room but there was no sign of Pam. He quickly stood, rubbing his eyes. He was just starting to worry when he found her in his room.

She was sound asleep, lying on her stomach in his bed. The very fact that she was in his bed was still surreal to him. But as he looked at her there in the shafts of morning sunlight that were streaming in through his blinds, he loved that having her there felt so familiar. She was wearing an old pair of his sweat pants, and a pale pink cami she'd brought with her. He wondered if he had ever seen her look better. With a small sigh, he turned to go brush his teeth, and maybe start making some breakfast. He knew it would be a good day.

Three hours later, after they'd both woken up and eaten breakfast together, Pam was rooting through the boxes in his closet.

"Ha!" she exclaimed. "And you thought you could hide them from me!"

He smiled. "I wasn't hiding them; you just weren't looking hard enough."

She rolled her eyes and tucked her treasure under her arm before settling back down onto his bed. "You could have at least given me a hint."

"I thought you'd give up and ask me flat-out where they were." Jim assured her, wrapping his arms back around her waist as she scooted back to sit between his knees, her head leaning backwards onto his half-propped up chest.

"Give up? Who do you think I am, Halpert? I would never give up on something as important as this."

"My dream girl letters are this important?"

"Of course they are," she replied. "Besides, I think we both know they're really my dream girl letters now."

"Always have been," he answered.

"Oh please. You were practically falling all over this Chelsea girl. I want to read more about her."

"Pam! I was like twenty years old! I didn't know any better. Besides, why do you care? Are you jealous?" he said, teasing her.

Pam waved her hand in the air, dismissively, "I'm just kidding. After all, you're talking to the girl who spent almost ten years with her high school crush."

"Fair point. Anyway, I still think you should start at the beginning and read them chronologically. It'll make more sense that way."

"Fine. But I reserve the right to mock you at all times," she said, snuggling further down until her head was resting on his chest.

"Duly noted."

Pam looked at the stack of papers in her hand. It was a little hard to read the messy handwriting, but she soon found it was well worth the effort.

Dear Girl of my Dreams,

I still don't know why Mom's making me do this, but she said I have to write a page before we can start my party and Jason's coming over in half an hour so I guess I'll just have to get this over with.

I'm 11 now. I have brown hair and green eyes and I still have some freckles, but not as many as I used to. That's good though because every one thinks they're so cute. I hate being called cute. Nothing really happened this year. We moved to a new house a few months ago. Oh, and I got a new bike for Christmas, but that was a long time ago.

We still don't have any cool video games, but I get to play a bunch of them whenever I go over to Jason's. Well, I don't know what else to write, so I think I'll stop. I hope I don't have to do this again next year, but I probably will.

From,

Jim

"Aw, you were so cute! I wish I'd known you when you were little."

"No you don't; trust me. I was a total dork," Jim said, absently running his hands through her hair.

"And how exactly is that different from now?"

"Shut up."

She smiled and continued to read.

Dear Dream Girl,

Today I'm turning 15. A lot of stuff has changed since last year. Like my sister left for college, so now I'm the oldest one at home. It's really weird because I think my parents think I'm a totally different person than I really am. Like they still think I'm just a nice little kid who gets good grades and does all his homework. Oh, by the way, mom said she'd stop reading these this year, so that's why I can tell you all this stuff. I just have to show her that I wrote a whole page instead of like three sentences.

So. Um... I don't really know what else to write. I guess I could tell you about high school. I just started my sophomore year, and guess what? I made the JV basketball team! I played on the freshman team last year, but I wasn't sure if the coach would pick me for JV, but then I talked to him at the tryouts and he said I should definitely go for it. It was great! So now I'm practicing with the team and everything. I really want to make Varsity next year, but they don't usually let that many juniors on to the team and even when they do they don't let them start or anything. It would still be really cool though.

Okay, well, that's probably long enough. Have a good year, dream girl!

From,

Jim

"Wow, Jim. Like basketball much?" Pam said, setting the letter down with the others.

He shrugged.

"I still can't believe your mom made you write these. That is too cute."

"She'll be glad to know you approve. She kept telling me someday some girl was gonna love them."

"Well, she was right," Pam said as she picked up the next letter in her stack.

-----

Jim wasn't sure why exactly they were doing this, but apparently Pam was enjoying it, so he wasn't going to complain. Besides, sitting here with her like this was like a dream come true for him. Pam was here, in his apartment, lying in his bed with him, and he was allowed to play with her hair, and rub her shoulders and run his hands up and down her arms as much as he wanted. Yeah, he wasn't about to complain.

He looked down to see which letter she was on now.

Dear Dream Girl,

Happy Birthday to ME! That's right, as of today I am officially 18 years old! It's awesome, except...uh... I haven't really done anything yet. I figured I'd write this in the morning since I fully expect to be partying all night long tonight. My friends Meg and Jason are coming over in a couple hours. Meg's kind of like my girlfriend actually, but we're not really serious or anything. We just hang out with the same people, so we're always doing stuff together.

Anyway, we're having this awesome party later. I wish you could come. It's weird how I sort of think of you as a real person sometimes. Well, I mean, I'm sure you're a real person, but I don't know you yet, so it's kind of weird that I'd want to hang out with you. But I do. I think we're gonna be really good friends. I just hope we don't meet until I'm at least 25. I still have a lot of stuff I want to do before I find the one person I want to be with forever, you know?

I think I'd better go get ready for tonight. We still have a bunch of stuff to do before the party.

Love,

Jim

P.S. I forgot about my mom's rule that these have to be a page long, so I'm just writing a little bit more. I hope you don't think I'm really weird for what I said earlier about thinking of you as a real person. I just have this really good idea of what I think you'll be like. I know most people probably don't think about this stuff, but I do. Anyway, I hope you have a great year. You're awesome. Or, well, I'm sure you will be. Love ya dream girl!

"Awww! You were so sweet!" Pam said, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "How'd you get to be so adorable?"

"Adorable? Pam, I'm pretty sure guys aren't supposed to be adorable," he said, doing his best to look offended.

"Well, you were adorable. Thinking about me all the time? That's just too cute. Even for you."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just let her continue running her fingers along his scalp. He loved that they could be like this. It was so them to just tease each other and laugh. Just like they'd always done, only now it was a million times better because they could do it while lying in bed together on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

"Okay, where's the next one?"

"Are you sure you want to keep reading these?" he asked. "They're not really that entertaining."

"Yes they are. I love them."

"Okay then, you stay here and read," he said, climbing over her to hop off the bed.

"Wait, where are you going?" she asked, and he could see the beginnings of a pout on her face.

"To make lunch."

"But you already made me breakfast," she called out as he began walking down the hallway.

"I know, but breakfast didn't include my famous grilled cheese sandwiches," he called back.

"Dork." It was faint, but he could just barely hear her say it as he reached the kitchen. He smiled to himself, wondering not for the first time, when exactly hearing her call him a dork had become such a good thing.

-----

Back in Jim's room Pam picked up another letter.

Dear Dream Girl,

Today is my twenty-fourth birthday. Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am. I have a great girlfriend. A decent job. An awesome family. Life is pretty much perfect. It's just funny that every once in awhile, I still feel like something is missing. I mean, it's weird. I don't even know what it would be, because like I said, I basically have everything I need, it's just... I don't know. I'm just not as fun as I used to be.

I guess I'm just growing up, huh? Anyway, I should probably just talk to you about all this, but I don't really know how to explain it. And really, it doesn't have anything to do with you, Chels, you're great. It's just me, being weird, I guess.

Life just doesn't always turn out the way you thought it would, you know? Like I always imagined that when the two of us got together we'd spend all our time just laughing and having fun together, but you can't really do that. You still have to go to work and deal with things like rent, and car insurance, and taxes. And whose turn it is to do the dishes. That's just life. And not every single minute of it can be fun, no matter how great your girlfriend is.

Well, I guess I'd better finish this so we can get back to decorating for the thing tonight. Sorry I'm in such a weird mood this year. Like I said, I must just be getting old.

Love you, Chels

I mean, dream girl!

Pam set the letter down on the bed and leaned down to rest her head on Jim's pillow. It was so strange to think of Jim at 24 sounding so much older than he did now. In a way she was reminded of how serious he had seemed when he first came back from Stamford. He had been so intent on doing well at work, and at the time it had bugged her because she had thought it was just Karen trying to make him take things seriously instead of just goofing off all the time.

Now, though, she wasn't so sure. She'd always known there was a more serious side to him, but this letter just made him sound so...weary. For a second she was almost mad at this Chelsea girl for letting him get like that. No one should be tired of life at 24. Especially not Jim.

In the next minute, though, she remembered herself at that age. She had worked as a receptionist ever since she dropped out of community college. When she was 24, Roy had been working two jobs to cover the payments on the truck and their new apartment. But other than that there was nothing that really stuck out to her about being 24. In fact, now that she looked back on them, the years between high school and meeting Jim were just a big blur of monotonous jobs, weekends spent watching movies and football games on the couch, and staying in a failing relationship just because it was easier to pretend everything was perfect than it was to imagine starting over alone.

She never wanted to end up like that again. She knew life with Jim wouldn't always be perfect, but as she skimmed over that last letter one more time she silently vowed never to let them get complacent with their lives. After all, life was supposed to be fun, and now that they'd finally found each other she'd do her best to make sure they never lost sight of that.

"Hey, you want to come eat?" Jim asked, appearing in the doorway.

"Yeah," she said, looking up at him. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. And then sort of out of the blue it occurred to her that she'd never actually told him that she loved him out loud. She'd written it down plenty of times, and she'd definitely implied it with her actions last night and this morning, but for some reason she'd never vocalized the thought.

-----

She was giving him the strangest look, and he wondered if he'd done something wrong. He knew he should have looked over those letters again. What if she'd read something in one of them that had made her feel weird, or something? What exactly had he said about Chelsea anyway? And didn't Pam know by now that no one had ever really been his dream girl, but her?

"What is it?" he asked, a little warily.

"Just, come here," she said, still giving him that serious look.

"Okay, what?" he repeated, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed.

"Jim, I just want you to know that I love you. I really, really love you." It was so unexpected, and so sincere, that he instantly felt the prick of tears in his eyes. He had the overwhelming urge to just kiss her right then, but she was still talking. "Jim, I've loved you for so long now, and I don't think I'll ever stop."

"I love you, too," he said, simply. He was momentarily transfixed by the way her eyes softened and her whole face turned from its serious cast into a warm smile.

"I don't want you to ever sound like this, okay?" she said, gesturing toward the letter in her lap.

"Sound like what?" he asked, reaching down to skim the letter quickly.

"Just so tired of life," Pam answered.

"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen." he said, looking into her eyes with a smile.

"But if it does, you'll talk to me about it, right?" she asked, unwilling to let it go.

He paused for a second, noting the concern on her face. "Yeah," he replied seriously.

"Good."

"And you'll talk to me about that kind of stuff too, right?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, good."

"I love you, Pam," he said, thinking about the number of long meetings at work, unvoiced thoughts, winks, nudges, pranks on Dwight, and letters it had taken them to get to this point.

"I know," she said, almost as if she was responding to his unspoken thoughts. "I love you so much."

He leaned down to kiss her warmly and when she immediately responded, he thought about telling her that their grilled cheese sandwiches were getting cold, but when Pam's arms reached around him and he could feel her fingernails digging lightly into his back as she pulled herself closer to him, he decided the sandwiches could wait.