He loves Christmas so much right now. She’s in the conference room with her teapot, talking to the camera.

He waits for her to come out. Not for anything in particular, he’s just waiting for her. He just wants to talk and see her laugh and be near her for a little while longer. Because it’s getting late and the party’s almost over and soon she’ll go home with her fiancé.

He feels a little bit weightless from the punch that’s mostly vodka and when she comes out of the conference room, he smiles down at her and says gently, “Merry Christmas, Pam.”

She holds the teapot carefully in her hands and lifts it up a little and says, “Thank you so much for this, Jim. Really. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.”

He leans against the doorjamb a little and says really softly, “You deserve it.”

She smiles, “I want to make tea with it right now.”

He laughs, pushes himself off of the door and follows her into the kitchen.

She looks so much like a child as she claps her hands happily and fills the teapot with water. And he loves her. She bounces on her feet as she watches it fill with water, her cheeks filling in with pink. She looks at him in the doorway and smiles widely, “Green is my favorite color. Did you know that?”

He did, but he shakes his head and says, “Lucky guess.”

Her eyes fall on something above him. He looks up and says, “Oh.”

Someone (most likely Michael) has hung mistletoe on the door frame. And here they are alone together with the door closed and there’s mistletoe hanging over his head.

He says, “We don’t have to-”

She sets the teapot on the counter and walks over to him with that same giddy smile on her face, “It’s tradition, Jim.”

She’s close to him now. He doesn‘t know how he manages to say, “Yeah, but with Roy out there…”

The card in his back pocket feels like a brick right now. He wants to give it to her and watch her read the only thing he could even think to write: I love you. Because he sat down with the card and was going to write something that explained it better, but this was all that would come out of him.

She pouts. “Yeah, no, you’re right. It’s just I’ve never gotten to kiss anyone under mistletoe before and, anyway, Roy’s hardly paid any attention to me at all tonight and-”

He kisses her then. Lightly, softly, just a peck and then he’s pulling away. She has this look on her face that he can’t read and his left hand is still on the back of her neck. He quickly pulls it back and shoves it into his pocket.

She stands there for a second and then she closes her eyes slowly and reopens them, smiling. “Merry Christmas, Jim.”