So where was I? Oh, right, Italian wine. The funny thing is, when we first started calling it that, we had no idea we'd actually be drinking the stuff like liquid courage at one point. Of course, that wasn't really how we'd planned to use it that day, but still...

'Hippo Birthday Jim!' He saw the sign as soon as he came in. Actually, it wasn't really possible to not see the sign. But before he could even come up with an appropriate response, Michael was already there giving him the creepiest hug of his life. (Or maybe just the creepiest one since his birthday hug last year.)

The day went exactly as Jim had expected it would. Michael seemed to have combined his usual Casual Friday zaniness with a large does of birthday cheer. He interrupted almost all of Jim's sales calls to tell Jim to tell whatever client he was calling that it was his birthday and that to celebrate Dunder-Mifflin was offering some outrageous discount on fluorescents. Or when he wasn't doing that, Michael would just spontaneously break into a creatively-worded rendition of a Happy Birthday song that Jim was pretty sure would never have been approved for the elementary school set. By the afternoon, Jim was just grateful that there weren't too many things that rhymed with Halpert.

Dwight was in fine form, too. He'd spent the day resenting the fact that Michael was paying so much attention to Jim, and consequently had begun tailing Michael around the office as they set up decorations and refreshments for the party later. To top it all off, Pam had been an hour late to work, and Jim hadn't been able to keep himself from wondering if Roy had also taken part of the morning off.

"Attention, everyone, I have an extremely important announcement to make." Michael waited until almost everyone's head had turned in his direction—there was no point in waiting for Creed to look. "As everyone knows, today is our little Jimmy-boy's very special day, and to celebrate I am planning the super-bash of the year, so if everyone could send in their donations for the party to me in the next five minutes, we will be all set. Okay? Now get back to work, you lazy..." before Michael could come up with an appropriate appellation several people started talking all at once.

"How much are we supposed to pay this time?" Phyllis asked.

"Michael, I am not paying for alcohol again." Angela interjected.

"Is this going to be like the last party when you took all our money and went out to dinner with that guy from the warehouse?" Oscar wanted to know.

"Guys, would you just chill out? This isn't the same as last time. This time, we are having a birthday celebration extravagrananza for the whole office, and Dwight is helping me with the planning." Dwight stood up and waved to his co-workers.

"You really don't have to do that, Michael." Jim tried.

"Look, we're having a party, okay! And since I'm planning it, it's going to be awesome. Now cough up the change, folks. Corporate's decided to stop paying for this kind of stuff because they don't know how to have fun."

"Michael, I'm sure we'll all be happy to chip in a few dollars, but I don't really think you and Dwight should have to do all the planning." Pam said, and Jim could instantly tell she was hoping to convince Michael to at least forgo the mandatory wild animal/Tarzan costumes he'd been hinting at earlier.

"Yeah," Jim chimed in. "Why don't you just have Angela be in charge of the money, and Pam can help with decorations and stuff?"

"I'll help." Phyllis volunteered.

"But..." Dwight started. Michael held up a hand to cut Dwight off as he considered Pam's idea. The whole office could see him balancing the fact that he wouldn't be able to take credit for the entire party against the fact that he wouldn't have to do all the detail-work by himself combined with the fact that he'd have someone else to blame in case the party sucked again.

"Actually," he said finally, "that is a pretty good idea. As you all know I am very busy today--and every day--so if I could have you three ladies meet me in the conference room immediately, we can get down to it--that's what she said." Michael turned to enter the conference room and Jim rolled his eyes at Pam.

"Michael, I am requesting permission to join you in your preparations for the party." Dwight quickly put in.

"No, Dwight. I'm pretty sure I can handle three ladies at once." Michael said, raising his brows at Jim. "Why don't you get back to your sales calls?"

"But, Michael--"

"Dwight, just, just stop, okay? You can't help."

Dwight sighed and leaned back in his chair as Pam, Phyllis, and Angela walked into the conference room and Michael shut the door behind him.

Five minutes later Michael stuck his head out and told Meredith to go get Kelly and join them. Dwight's brow furrowed, but he kept quiet.

-----

"So, how does it feel to be so old?" Pam asked, coming over to stand beside him in the back corner of the conference room.

"We're the same age, Beesly."

"Not anymore. You're an entire year older now."

"I don't think it works like that," he said, giving her a look.

"What are you talking about? I'm 26 and you're 27. What's not to get?" she asked, smiling up at him.
"Well, yeah, but your birthday's in like three months."

"So? You're still old."

"Nice."

"So, what do you think of the party?" Pam asked, surveying the jungle-themed decorations that were set up around the room. "Does the party-planning committee get your stamp of approval?"

"Is that what you're called now?"

"Yeah. It was Angela's idea. Actually, almost everything was Angela's idea. Or Michael's," Pam said, indicating the grass-skirted inflatable doll in the corner. Jim smiled.

"Wow, Angela and Michael, I can only imagine the fight that broke out over booze."

"Yeah, that one was long."

"Your entire meeting was long." Jim complained. "At one point I thought I might have to send Dwight in to make sure you were still alive."

Pam giggled a little. "No one could get away with dying on Dwight's watch, not even you. Hey, do you want something to drink?" Pam asked before Jim could make another retort.

"Sure," he responded. They made their way to the other end of the table where Pam grabbed a cup for Jim and then one for herself.

Jim took a sip and immediately made a face. "Whoa! Who spiked the soda?"

"What?" Pam asked, then she tasted her drink and made a face of her own. "Wow."

"I guess Angela lost the fight after all."

"Happy Birthday, Jim." Meredith said, coming up behind them. "Michael asked me to go get something to liven up the party."

"Does Angela know?" Pam asked.

"Who cares?" Meredith said, refilling her own glass before leaving to sit with Kelly and Dwight on the other side of the room.

-----

Three hours later Jim, Pam, and Angela were the only ones left in the office. Angela was fuming because no one had stayed to help with clean-up duties so she was stuck doing everything herself.

Jim and Pam were both a little too drunk to help much. At first the combination of grape soda and whatever Meredith had put in there was too strange to do more than cautiously sip at, but as everyone else in the office started drinking, Jim had stopped caring. It was his birthday after all, and a Friday night, and it wasn't like he had big plans for later.

His parents were out of town and his new roommate had only moved in a few days ago, so Jim had never bothered to mention that it was his birthday. He could've called up Maggie, the girl he'd been sort of seeing lately, but he was still a little distracted by the fact that Pam had been so late to work that morning.

After four cups of spiked soda, he'd worked up the nerve to ask her about it.

"Oh yeah," she responded eagerly. "Good thing you reminded me! I skipped work to make your present, and now I almost forgot to give it to you." Pam was laughing like the whole thing was hysterical.

"What?" Jim said, surprised. "You didn't have to do that."

"What are you talking about? If I don't give you a present then I can't expect you to give me one on my birthday."

"Fair enough. So, what is it?" he asked.

"It's in the truck. Come on, I'll show you."

"Angela, we'll meet you outside, okay?" Angela was going to drive them both home, since she had decided they were too drunk to do it themselves. They looked over at Angela who was mumbling under her breath. When she didn't say anything they both grabbed their coats and headed out the door.

"I'm not giving you a hint! You'll just have to unwrap it and then find out." Pam was laughing again as they walked out of the glass doors and headed for the truck. Roy had made a brief appearance in the office a few hours earlier to tell Pam he was going out with Darryl for some drinks. She'd just nodded her acceptance and then silently took the keys he offered her. Jim had thought it was a little strange at the time, but he wasn't about to get involved in something between Pam and Roy.

Now as they walked together, Jim still wasn't sure what exactly Pam was giggling about, but in his semi-drunken haze he didn't care. It was enough just to be here with her. He considered putting his arm around her, but even as drunk as he was he still knew that was a bad idea. After all, they were just office friends. It wasn't like he cared about her. Much. They just had fun laughing together. That was all. Right?

He quickly squelched the urge to examine how he really felt about Pam, especially here and now. That thought could wait.

Pam unlocked the passenger door and reached to take something off the front seat, but then quickly turned and faced Jim again.

"Wait, close your eyes!" she instructed.

"What? Why? I'm gonna see it in like two seconds anyway, Pam."

"Just do it, okay?"

"Fine, whatever."

"Okay, now hold out your arms." For some reason, with his eyes closed like this, it was easy to pretend that something else was about to happen. Like instead of putting something in his hands, she was about to put her own arms around him, or kiss him or something. It was a stupid thought, and he quickly blamed it on the "soda" they'd had earlier.

He could tell Pam was laughing again, even though he couldn't hear anything, because her hands shook a little as she placed something in his arms.

"Wait. It's not done yet."

"How long does this present take, Beesly? Do you think you'll be done by my next birthday?"

Pam just laughed again, aloud this time, and then put something else on top of what he was holding, so that it became heavier. He expected her to be done then, but instead he heard her walk around behind him and place her hands over his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"I just didn't want you to peek."

"Well, okay." He paused, wondering if Pam was going to do anything else. They seemed to be frozen there for a second, and he couldn't help thinking about how soft her hands were and how strange it felt knowing she was probably standing on tip toes only inches behind him. In the cool air he could feel the warmth of her breath on the back of his neck, and the sensation was far from unappealing. "Pam?"

"Yeah?" she whispered.

"Can I look now?" he asked quietly.

"Oh. Right. Yeah, sure, go ahead."

Her hands lifted then and he looked down at his present as she moved to stand beside him. In his hands, was an oddly-shaped bowl of some kind, and inside it was a present wrapped in bright red paper with a sparkly white bow on top. He grabbed the present out of the bowl, to take a closer look at it, then smiled as he realized what he was really holding. The bowl was made out of an old record. The label had been removed, and the sides were molded in an undulating pattern that gave the bowl its unique shape.

"Did you make this?"

"Uh-huh."

"Wow. Seriously? That's so cool!"

"It's not that hard," Pam protested.

"Still, that's awesome. Thanks, Pam!"

"You didn't open the other part yet."

"Oh yeah. Wow, double presents, this is like the best birthday ever." He handed her the bowl so he could unwrap the rest of his gift.

She giggled as he dramatically tore at the paper. He furrowed his brow when he found himself holding a small book, a few sheets of folded paper, and a golf pencil that was attached to the paper by a thin red ribbon. But then he smiled as he read the title of the book, 50 Jobs Worse than Yours, and even snorted when he opened the papers to find a detailed spreadsheet with lines for each job, and categories like "Actually Worse," "Actually Better," "Worse, but with a better Boss," "Better, but with worse hours," and "Possible Future Job, in case Dwight accidentally blows up Dunder-Mifflin with his spud gun."

He didn't know what to say. She'd obviously spent the morning putting all this together.

"So you can fill it out," Pam mumbled. "I know. It's stupid. I didn't know what to get you," she continued, suddenly sounding like a little girl.

"No, it's great. Really."

"I just didn't..." she trailed off, setting the bowl, now filled with wrapping paper, on top of his car.

"What?"

"Nothing was good enough," she said quietly.

"Pam."

"I mean..." she looked up at him then and seemed to be deciding something. Honestly, he was surprised she was still holding it together. She'd seemed really drunk earlier. Then without warning her arms were around him. "You're my best friend, you know," she whispered near his ear. Then just as quickly she was pulling away before he had even gotten a chance to really hug her back.

Once more he had no idea what to say. She was his best friend, too, but having her in his arms even for just that brief moment had made something very clear to him. He would always be her best friend, but that wasn't quite enough anymore. He wanted so much more than that, and he'd already been denying it to himself for far too long.

But she was engaged. Totally and completely off-limits. Not his. Not ever. So as she turned to look at him again, he quickly stifled his thoughts and smiled at her. "You're my best friend, too, Beesly."

Just then Angela came out and they drove home in silence. They stopped at Jim's place first. As he gathered his presents in his arms, Pam stuck her head out of the passenger's window. "I forgot to tell you something."

"What?" he called from across the driveway.

"You know how I said everything was Michael's idea, or Angela's?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the grape soda was my idea. All mine."

"You mean you're the one that put the...?"

"No! No, that was Meredith. I think. But I was the one that remembered you like it." she said, smiling in that way that he knew meant she was either very tired or very drunk or possibly both. He chuckled.

"Well, thanks."

"Uh-huh. Happy Birthday!" she called as Angela lost patience and began driving away.

"Bye!" he called, using his free hand to wave as the car rounded the corner.

I guess it wasn't really the grape soda that changed everything, but I know for a fact that Pam never would've given me that hug without it. And if she hadn't done that, I might have been able to keep pretending that there was nothing more to our relationship than a casual work friendship. Anyway, I'm not recommending the whole grape soda and alcohol mix, but in our case it made a big difference. Huh. Maybe Meredith knew what she was doing after all.