I sing when I'm happy...

Pam doesn't know why she feels weird asking him.  Jim is her boyfriend after all.  Boyfriends help their girlfriends with stuff like this all the time.

Still - she's a little nervous.

She's nervous because even though they've been together for almost two months (as of next Thursday, actually and he'd already told her not to make plans.  He is going to take her someplace nice for dinner and she can't wait) she still feels like it is all a dream.  Nearly every morning when she wakes up she's more than a little surprised that it is actually real.  She is surprised, even when she feels his arm wrap around her waist, his warm breath fluttering through her hair and tickling her ear.

She doesn't want to seem needy.  Not this time.  One of the things she loves about being with him is that she knows now she can actually be on her own and survive.  She knows she could probably manage this all by herself but there is something comforting about having him there to help her.

So tonight she decides to be brave.  She's finding it is getting easier and easier to simply ask for what she wants.   It never ceases to amaze her that he always seems to be more than willing to do what she asks.

She's trying to think of a way to begin but she's distracted.  His fingers are combing through her hair, a little habit he's seemed to pick up since they'd finally come to their senses.  It makes her drowsy and her eyes flutter closed.  As they do she remembers their first "official" date, and the way she'd taken a full hour to flat iron her hair the way Kelly had shown her. 

He hadn't said anything at first, other than to tell her she looked beautiful the minute she opened the door.  But he hadn't said a word about the changes she'd made to her hair, not through dinner, nor dessert or even when they'd gotten back to her apartment and barely made it to her bedroom.  It wasn't until the next morning and after a rather adventurous shower that he'd pulled her close, snagged one of her curls and wound it around his finger. 

"Ahh.  There we go.  Much better."  He'd whispered in her ear, gently tugging on her hair.  "There's my Pam..."

My Pam.  She sighs dreamily at the memory.  She snuggles closer and traces an invisible pattern across his chest. 

"Jim?"

"Mmmm?"

"Could you do me a favor?"

He makes a noise that sounds much like a groan.  "Pam.  Seriously.  You've got to give me a minute."

"Not that kind of favor."  She giggles as she pinches his arm lightly. 

When he realizes she's asking him a serious question there is not even a moment's hesitation before he answers.  "Sure.  What do you need?"

What do you need?   Just like that he's right there with her.  It is so simple with him.  Pam mentally kicks herself for what seems like the thousandth time for waiting so long to tell him how she felt.  She could have been in this place so much sooner.

She bites her lip before she continues.   "Could you go to the store with me tomorrow?  I...um...I want to buy new curtains.  And then I was hoping maybe you could help me hang them?"

Her voice shakes slightly and lilts at the end of the sentence, a sure sign to him that she is unsure.  When he replies the tone of his voice makes it seem like he hasn't noticed. 

"Definitely."  His lips brush over the top of her head.  "After all you've done for me tonight I figure I owe you anyway."

She blushes and he can feel her skin grow warm next to his.  "OK, that's so not why I asked..."

"I know."  He chuckles, the sound rumbling under her ear.  "Just...could we go first thing in the morning?  I have practice in the afternoon.

She curls her leg around his and presses a kiss near his shoulder, sighing contentedly.  "Of course."

xoxoxo

Jim yawns loudly as he leans over the shopping cart at the end of the aisle.  Chaos is swirling around them.  Typical for Target at 9 AM on a Saturday.

"So what are we doing here again?" 

"Curtains."  Pam mumbles.

"Curtains." 

"Yes."  She regards the paper in her hand again, checking the measurements she'd written down earlier.   "Do you like these?"  She holds up the package.

"Sure."

"Or what about  these?" She holds up another.

"Sure."

She gives him a look.  "But which ones are better?"

"I don't know.  Which ones do you like better?"

"I can't decide."  She nibbles on her nail.  "This shouldn't be so difficult."

He wonders why it is so important to her that he likes the curtains she chooses for her own apartment.  Unless, of course, she is expecting him to spend an inordinate amount of time there with her.  The idea makes him grin.  

Jim walks over to her and takes the packages out of her hands.

"OK, Beesly.  Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Do not question my methods.  They are very scientific.  Just do it."  He can see her struggling not to laugh as he adds a warning.  "And no peeking!"

"OK."

She looks so adorable, standing there with her eyes shut tight.  He has to fight the urge to kiss her.

He shuffles the packages behind his back and then calls out to her again.  "OK.  Open them."

She does as he asks, looking at him completely confused. 

He shrugs each of his shoulders in turn.  "Left or Right?"

"Hmm."  She ponders.  "Left.   No...Right!!  No.  Left!"

"Pam..."  He rolls his eyes.

"Right."  She says finally.

"You sure?"

She gives an emphatic nod.  "Yes.  Right.  Definitely."

He brings his right arm around with a flourish.  "You, Ms. Beesly are about to become the proud owner of a set of ..."  He glances at the package.  "Simply Shabby Chic Crochet Window Panels in White."  He smiles widely.  "You have excellent taste.  Very chic.  In a shabby sort of way."

He is so impressed with himself she can't help the thought from running through her head.  He is such a dork.  And being one herself, she absolutely loves that about him. 

Jim scratches his head as he watches her throw the package into the cart.  "Just a quick question.  Why would you want to hang something in your house that's described as "shabby"?"

"It's the style.  And I happen to think they're pretty..."  She says with a smile as she starts off toward the women's clothing section, hoping Jim doesn't notice they're not nearly done shopping.   This is what always happens when she comes here.  She intends to buy just one particular thing and the next thing she knows she has a cart full.

"You know my method is also helpful in choosing between other items."  He suggests as he falls into step beside her.  "Socket wrenches...garden trowels..."  He looks around, realizing all at once they are in a completely different area of the store.  An area that happens be of interest to him, at least, in regard to one person in particular.

"You know." He suggests his voice full of innocence.  "I've recently come to realize that it might be perfectly suited for choosing lingerie..."

"Really?'

"Yeah.  I mean.  Up until today it's been unproven, but I'd be willing to give it a try.  You know, in the name of research."

"Hmm.   Well, I do like that kind of research myself.  I definitely think we should test that theory."  Her eyes dance with amusement as she pulls two items off a nearby display and hides them behind her back.

xoxoxo

Pam watches as he works, humming to herself.  It's a song that is familiar, but Jim can't quite place it.   He finds that just the sound of her so obviously happy makes him smile.

"Good?"

She stands on a ladder beside him, squinting against the early afternoon sun streaming through the window. 

"I think they're still crooked.  Another inch higher."

He gives her an exasperated look.

"Please?"  She adds sweetly.

Jim grumbles as he stretches on his toes to do what she asks.   "Pam, seriously.  My arms are about to fall off."

"Interesting.  I've never heard that happening before. What would you call that?  Spontaneous amputation?" 

He chuckles.  "Sounds about right."   

"OK.  Step back."  When he does he is right next to her.  She places a hand on his shoulder and admires his handiwork.  "Pretty huh?"

"They are, without a doubt, the most amazing curtains known to man.  Absolutely beautiful."  Jim heaves another sigh, this one full of relief.  He gazes over at her.  "And - by the way - so are you."

"Nice try." She kisses him quickly, laughs as she pulls away.  "We're doing the bedroom window next weekend."  

She waits for him to complain or say something about having other plans but he just grins back at her and runs a hand over the small of her back.

More than a little relieved and incredibly smitten, she looks at him thoughtfully.   

"I like this."

His fingers absently scratch between her shoulder blades, making her spine tingle.  "Hmmm?  What's that?"

"Being the same height as you."  She smiles wider.  "I don't think that's ever happened before."

"It is kind of nice."  He agrees as he leans closer, his lips brushing across hers.  This is definitely a task he doesn't mind undertaking. 

His hands reach around her waist to grip a rung on the ladder as he savors the moment.  Her head spins and her eyes are dreamy when he finally pulls away.

"What were you humming before?"  He asks as he rests his forehead against hers.

She blinks to try and regain focus.  "Huh?"

He kisses her again, a bit more urgently.  "Before - while we were working on the curtains, you were humming something." 

"Oh."  She tries to brush him off.  "It's silly."

"C'mon.  Tell me."

"Nothing."  She shakes her head.  "It's just..."  She sighs, trying to figure out a way to tell him without seeming completely sappy and pathetic.  "As I was standing here watching you I was thinking of an old movie.  I haven't seen it in forever."

"Ohhkay..." He smiles and leans back a bit.   "What movie?"

"Singing in the Rain."  She blushes and averts her eyes.  "I told you it was silly.  It's just the lyrics remind me of you is all."

Jim's grin grew.  He likes the sound of this.  "I've seen that a few times I think.  My mom loves that movie."   He picks up her hand and links his fingers with hers.  "So I remind you of a guy splashing around in puddles?"

"No."  She laughs.  "It's a different song.  Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds are in a soundstage and they dance together and there's a ladder involved."

"Hmmm.  Sounds really...hot."  When he looks at her face again he can't believe how beautiful she looks.  Clearly this song, or this scene has some sort of effect on her.

"I guess I'm not describing it right.  I just love the song."  She shrugs.  "I always have.  I used to think I'd have it playing for the first dance at my wedding..."  She trails off, suddenly embarrassed.  Way to go Pam.  Trying to scare him off?  Two months and you're talking weddings?

Just talking about this song had obviously moved her and he wants to know why.  As soon as she mentions weddings he thinks he understands. 

Roy.

Even after all they've been through, he has this insatiable need to outshine Roy in every way possible.  He finds no matter what he does he can't help it.  He doesn't think the feeling will ever truly go away.

Jim knows she tries to avoid talking about Roy, especially with him.  So he tries a different tactic.  The sound of his voice pulls her from her daydream. 

"I've seen the movie but I haven't paid that close attention. What's the name of the song?"

"What?"  She wonders if there is any way out of this.  She didn't mean to make such a big deal.  

When her eyes meet his she can see he isn't going to give up.  "Oh.  It's called You Were Meant for Me."

As she says the words a memory flashes though Pam's mind.  Phyllis' wedding.  The one song Kevin's band played that wasn't by The Police.  The thing is she'd had this very same conversation about this very same song with Roy once upon a time.  But of course, true to form, Roy thought she'd meant Jewel not Gene Kelly.  From that point forward they'd been stuck with a song that was actually about two people breaking up.

Which in the end was much more fitting - come to think of it.

He can't tell what she is thinking exactly but he is extremely unhappy with the look on her face at the moment.  Trying to rectify that fact, he slips his arms around her, lifting her off her feet and slowly twirling her around before placing her safely on the ground.  

"It could still happen."  He suggests as his mouth seeks hers.

"Hmmm?"

"The song.  Maybe it will play at your wedding."

Slightly dizzy, Pam's fingers curl around his biceps as she sighs and presses herself against him.  "Maybe.  The point is - sometimes I sing when I'm happy."  She says finally as they sway and then stumble towards the sofa.   "And I think you're going to have to get used to it."

As he lowers her onto the couch she giggles.   "Jim."

His response is an inarticulate grunt.

"Jim."  Her voice is muffled against his mouth. "You have to leave."

He eases back and meets her eyes, giving her a look that tells her he thinks she's nuts.

She reaches down and stills his hands.  "You have practice at 1:30."

"So?"

"So.  You need to leave."

"I'll skip it."

"You can't skip it.  You'll have fourteen eleven year olds and their parents waiting for you.  They're not going to be happy with you.  You're already going to be late."

Jim loves coaching basketball, but there are other physical activities he enjoys much more.

He makes one last feeble attempt.  "I could hold my own with the eleven year olds, but you're right, their Moms could totally kick my ass."

She smiles at the image of Jim running away from a pack of angry women.  "Go.  I promise I'll make it up to you later."

He raises an eyebrow.  "You will?"

"Yes.  I'll make dinner and then we'll have...dessert."  She laughs when she sees pure unadulterated lust flash through his eyes.

"Does dessert happen to involve anything that you've...um...bought today?"

"It just might."  She gives him a wink.  "Now go."   She says as she shoves him playfully.  "And hurry back."                      

Reluctantly, Jim rises to his feet.    He grabs his keys from the table in the foyer and hangs his head.

He can hear her humming again as he closes the door behind him.  As he makes his way to his car he already knows he'll be headed back to Target again today.  

There is a certain DVD he feels he needs to buy.