It definitely wasn't the most ideal situation Jim had ever been in, starting a relationship that was immediately long distance, but he and Pam would text each other on their breaks, chat on the phone or computer most evenings, and try to meet somewhere halfway between them on Sundays. Sundays were definitely Jim's favorite day as they typically would try to find someplace quiet to park and eat lunch, chatting and laughing and holding hands until those hands were tangled in curls, reaching for buttons, slipping under shirts.

This weekend was going to be great though. It was Columbus Day, both Jim and Pam had Monday off and Pam's roommate was going to be out of town, so Jim was getting ready to venture to Brooklyn and see her proclaimed 'shoebox' in person. "Seriously, it's tiny," Pam reiterated last night on their weekly Friday Evening webchat. Jim asked if it was at least bigger than the backseat of his Corolla and grinned madly as he watched her cheeks turn bright crimson on the fuzzy video.

Jim zipped his duffle bag and headed down the stairs, greeted by the loud sound effects of a video game. In addition to finding himself in a long-distance relationship, he also had a roommate again as his friend Mark had broken up with his girlfriend and needed a place to live immediately. It was working out quite well, though, Jim had someone else to help take care of Casey, and Mark agreed to take over Jim's lease should Jim end up moving to Stamford.

Mark loved his video games, Jim had no idea when Mark slept because he was usually on the XBox or on his computer when Jim went to bed and somehow already (or maybe still) playing when Jim woke up.

"Wow, man, have you at least taken a break from fighting the Germans to have lunch?" Jim remarked as he came into the living room, finding Mark still in his pajamas and playing Call of Duty.

"I'm actually on the German team," Mark said, not so much as glancing over Jim.

Jim chuckled as he walked to the back door, calling Casey over so the golden retriever could run around outside. "So I should be back Monday evening sometime."

"Cool, don't worry, Casey and I won't miss you," Mark said, some kind of landmine going off in the game so loudly that Jim nearly flinched. "You know, you still haven't told me anything about this girl you run off to see every weekend."

"Oh, um," Jim had been a rather tight lipped with almost everyone about who he had been seeing. Part of it was the documentary crew; he trusted that Danny had kept their conversation a few weeks ago "off the record" but the rest of crew definitely suspected something was up and would occasionally ask prying questions. Thanks to that, Jim was in the habit of just not talking about his personal life at all with anyone. His own mother didn't even know he was seeing someone.

Jim decided this was a habit he needed to break, that he should be able to tell his friends and family about this woman who was so special to him, who he had only been dating for six weeks but was already factoring into all of his long-term plans.

"So, do you remember Pam? She came to some of my barbecues last summer."

"That girl you worked with, curly hair?" Mark asked, eyes still glued to the television screen. "It's a friend of hers?"

"Actually... it's her."

Mark managed to tear his eyes away long enough to give Jim a smirked and a nod, "Alright, she's cute, seemed pretty fun."

"Yeah, she is." It was all Jim could do to stop talking then, figuring the recently-dumped Mark didn't need to hear Jim gushing about how sweet and funny and creative Pam was.

"Wait a minute," Mark pause his game and looked to Jim with knitted brows, "you and her didn't have a thing, did you, when you were with Lisa?"

This was the other reason Jim had been reluctant to talk about Pam, he knew people were going to be suspicious of him now dating someone who he was such good friends with during his engagement. "No," Jim said, trying to put on his best 'don't-be-ridiculous' face.

"'Cause now I'm remembering you and her being pretty buddy-buddy at those barbecues," Mark continued.

"No, I mean, like you said, I thought she was fun and we were friends at work, but no, there was no thing." Don't forget that Lisa was the one who called off the wedding, he very nearly added, but he'd only be lying if he tried to deny Pam didn't played a major part in his break-up.

A scratch came from the door and Jim walked back to the kitchen to let Casey in, silently thanking the dog for giving him an out from the awkward conversation. Once Casey was inside, Jim said grabbed his bag and headed for the front door. "See you Monday, promise you'll leave the house at least once before I get back," he called to Mark.

"I promise nothing!" Mark said dramatically. "Say hi to your girlfriend for me."

"Bye," Jim said, not turning around for fear that Mark would see the giant smile on his face from hearing the word "girlfriend".

The word kept swirling in his head as he drove down the interstate, girlfriend, his girlfriend. Sweet, pretty Pam Beesly was his girlfriend and nothing made him happier. And nothing today could diminish that happiness, not the jerky New Jersey drivers, nor the horrendous New York traffic, nor the battle for a parking spot near her apartment building in Brooklyn. He pressed the buzzer to her apartment, a hour later than he wanted to, and all but ran up the stairs to her door.

Pam opened her door and greeted him, stepping aside to let him in. "Did you hit some traff-"

His bag landed with a soft thud and his lips were on hers, his arms around her waist lifting her off the floor. Somehow he kicked the door shut behind him and carried her not more than a couple steps before they reached a bed. He lay half on top of her, kissing her deeply and running his hand down her side to the curve of her hip.

"You didn't even let me give you the tour," Pam said softly when his lips finally left hers. Jim chuckled and looked at her, curls splayed out on the sheets, smile on her lips - which were red and slightly swollen from his kisses. He had thought from the moment he met her that she was pretty, only recently had he realized how beautiful she was, and that six days was far to long to go without seeing that smile or those eyes. "It's a quick tour," she added.

"Okay, only because it's quick," he replied, standing up then taking her hand to help her to her feet.

"Alright," she walked about five steps to a corner of the apartment with the refrigerator and stove, "here is the kitchen, or rather, the kitchen-like area." She turned to a bookshelf against the wall, "Our extensive library." Another three steps back to the bed they were just laying on, "Grace's bed, which can double as a couch but never does. And behind you is our luxurious bathroom."

Jim turned to see a standing screen, his eyes widening when he pushed it aside enough to see there was no actual door to the bathroom. "Was the door optional?"

"Doors only serve to cut off relationships, Jim," Pam replied, bringing her hands together to form an X. Jim chuckled and Pam took another couple steps past him to the small bed against the wall, "And here is my bed, plus I get a window with the beautiful view of a brick wall ten feet from me. And there you have it. Any questions?"

Jim put a hand to his chin and pretended to study the room. Pam certainly wasn't lying about the tininess of the place, but it had a bed, two beds actually, which was definitely a plus considering the past six weeks of meeting up at rest stops and diners somewhere in New Jersey. "Just one," he said, turning back to her bed, "can this bed support the weight of two people?"

Pam rubbed her cheeks, unsuccessfully masking their redness, "I suppose it hasn't really been tested."

Jim smirked and lay down on mattress, his feet dangling off the end giving flashbacks of his college dorm room days. He patted the space next to him and Pam smiled and lay down. It was snug, but they did both fit laying side by side. "Okay, test one successful, two adults can lay perfectly still on this mattress," Jim said.

"It would appear so," Pam replied.

"So onto test number two, which is," Jim propped himself up on his right elbow, his eyes meeting Pam's while the fingers of his left hand played with the hem of her shirt, occasionally skimming over the button of her jeans, "how does it handle motion?"

One thing about the useless window next to Pam's bed was it was just the right angle for the sun to pour in in the mornings. Usually it only annoyed her, overheating her and making her wake up far earlier than she wanted to on her rare days off, but today it was inspiring her. Or rather, the way the light was hitting Jim's sleeping figure was inspiring her. She sat cross-legged on Grace's bed, holding her pencil loosely as she sketched and shaded Jim's dark mop of hair, then his broad shoulders, then the sheets low on his bare chest and finally the long leg that was peeking out from under the covers.

These six weeks had been both wonderful and difficult. Sunday's were fun, they'd meet somewhere along Interstate 80, try to find some park to eat lunch at, then make-out in the backseat like a pair of teenagers. By Wednesday it always felt like it was fading away, like their relationship was all just some vivid dream. When they chatted on Fridays, Jim would start to say "So this weekend..." and Pam would always hold her breath, ready for him to say he can't make it, that this back-and-forth was not worth it anymore. He never said any such thing, but it didn't make that fear really ever go away.

Thanks goodness for Grace being out of town, giving them a chance for the first time to just be together, to order in pizza and sleep in late and kiss someplace that wasn't a car or a park or a hotel.

A rattle came from the nightstand between her and Grace's beds and Pam saw her phone lighting up. She snatched it from the small table before it could make anymore more noise, eyebrows knitting when she saw "Karen" on the display. She swung her legs around so she that she was sitting on the edge of Grace's bed, her back to the still-sleeping Jim, and answered quietly.

"Hey, sorry for the random Sunday Morning call, I needed to escape, my parents and grandmother have descended upon me this weekend, I just got dragged to mass," Karen said in an exhausted tone.

"I take it you're not a regular church goer," Pam said.

"I only go to appease my elderly Italian grandmother so no, I do not frequently attend mass," Karen replied. Pam laughed quietly. "Are we being quiet for reason?" Karen said in a stage whisper.

"Oh, um," Pam felt her cheeks burn as she glanced back to her bed, Jim still snoozing away, "Jim's here."

"Oh! So I'm going to guess you had more to repent for than I did today," Karen teased.

"Shut up," Pam said in a quiet giggle.

"Actually that's part of the reason I called, I keep forgetting to tell you I was in a meeting with Wallace on Friday and your man's name came up."

Pam sat up a little straighter, "What did he say?"

"Well, like you and I have suspected for a while, they've all-but-decided they're keeping Stamford, but David mentioned how impressed he was with Jim from the Scranton branch, said he thinks Jim has leadership potential."

"So, he'll for sure getting a transfer offer." Pam said, the smile creeping across her face.

"Yeah, for sure, and probably a promotion and a raise to go with it," Karen said. Pam knew she was now full-on grinning. "Now you know this is unofficial and it didn't come from me."

"I know, I know," Pam said, though the grin remained plastered on her face, "It's just . . . thank you Karen, that's really good news. Unofficial news, of course."

Karen chuckled, "Alright, I'll let you go, see you this week."

Pam closed her phone, and turned back around to Jim, just starting to open his eyes and stretch his arms over his head. She knelt on the floor so her face would be near his, and when his eyes focused on her, he gave her a goofy grin, "Hey."

"Hey," she said, smiling at him for a minute before leaning over to kiss him.

When their lips parted he looked to her alarm clock on the night stand. "Yikes, it's this late already?" he said, sitting up.

"I figured I'd let you sleep," Pam got to her feet and walked to the kitchen corner. She glanced back to Jim, quickly looking away when she saw him standing in just his boxers (a silly residual habit from the years of being so careful to never look at him too long, she was determined to break this habit soon).

"Let me sleep and draw me like one of your French girls, huh?" Jim said.

Pam jerked her head back to him, seeing him looking at her sketchbook laying open on Grace's bed as he pulled a tee-shirt over his head. "The light was really good," she replied, knowing she was blushing madly.

"Oh of course, the light," Jim playfully mocked, walking over and putting his hands on her waist.

"So what do you want to do today?" Pam said when his lips left hers.

"Um, well, we should have some breakfast or brunch or something, and after that, I was kinda thinking we could take a little drive and check some place out."

"What place?"

"Maybe..." he tilted his head, "Stamford, Connecticut?"

Pam narrowed her eyes, "Were you fake-sleeping so you could eavesdrop on me?"

"Absolutely not, I simply overheard you talking about me behind my back," Jim said in a faux-serious tone.

"How do you know we were even talking about you?" Pam countered.

"I always know when you're talking about me," Jim said with a smirk. "So what else did Karen say?"

"Can't tell you, top secret corporate business," Pam wiggled out of his arms to look in the refrigerator for breakfast ingredients.

"Aw c'mon, I know she said something else."

"Sorry Halpert, I'm bound to confidentiality," Pam said, laughing at the sight of six-foot-something Jim, standing in what were basically his pajamas and pouting like a little kid. She set the milk and a carton of eggs on the one tiny square of counter-space and turned to him. "Fine, I'll give you one hint. Let's just say you should be able to afford a place bigger than this if and when you go to Stamford."

"Well yeah, I mean, I kinda plan on having a roommate when I move there to split the rent with," Jim said, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a half-grin.

Pam's eyes widened, they hadn't really discussed any kind of living situation when he moved to Stamford or when she was done with her internship, but she supposed it made sense to move in together, Stamford was less than an hour from the city, and it would surely be a lot cheaper.

Jim's brows met, "You think Andy will agree to be my roommate, don't you?"

Pam's jaw dropped and she gave Jim and couple smacks to his chest. "Oh you wanna live with Andy, huh?" Jim quickly smothered her in a big bear hug, and she giggled as he nipped at her earlobe and started to walk her backwards.

One thing about Pam's far-too-small Brooklyn studio apartment: she was never more than few steps from a bed, something she was grateful for this weekend.