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Author's Chapter Notes:

Haven't written much in a while, but the whole "when will Jim REALLY propose" got me wondering....

Still don't own them. Don't own much of anything, actually, except a really cool Han Solo figurine from 1983 in his Empire Strikes Back gear. No Copyright Infringement intended.

Jim Halpert pulled into the parking space that sat directly in front of the old dome-shaped climbing frame. While it was clear they had once been painted in bright primary colors, these days they were faded and rust seeped out from the bolts and connectors. Beyond it stood an old metal slide and a set of four swings. All of it had seen better days, and with a newer playground just added at the other end of the park, it spent most of its time in solitude.


“Go grab a seat over there and I'll get the ice cream,” he told Pam with a grin.


Pam frowned slightly, and squinted out the front window. “Grab a seat where?”


“On the swings. Or the monkey bars if you're feeling up to it,” he replied. He opened the car door, stopping as he felt her hand on his arm.


“Um, hello? Have you forgotten that I can't see to save my own life right now?”


Jim laughed. “Oh, that's right,” he nodded. “Well here, let me guide you then.” He jumped out of the car and quickly ran around to open Pam's door, taking her hand as she stepped out. “Okay, first take a few steps forward so I can shut the door. Now turn to your left – can you see a patch of green?”


“Jerk. I'm not THAT blind!” Pam pinched his bicep with her free hand. “And why didn't we just stop and get some contact solution after we left the office? I could be seeing perfectly fine by now.”


“Don't worry,” he said smoothly, walking her toward the swing set. “We'll celebrate our early release from work now, and then we'll head over to your place and you can put your eyes back in.”


Pam could see the shadow of the metal chains of the rubber treaded swing and grabbed one.


“Nice – first time, too,” Jim teased.


“Get out of here,” she harrumphed, though her eyes were dancing. “And you better know what flavor to come back with.”


Jim put his hand to his heart. “You wound me, Beesly. You think I don't know your favorite ice cream after all this time?”


She pulled her purse onto her lap as she sat on the swing and smiled up at the fuzzy outline of the man she loved standing in front of her. “I would think you better if you've been feeling confident enough to taunt me with words of an engagement.”


Even without her corrective lenses she could see him raise his eyebrow cockily. “Be right back,” he said with a tilt of his head, and he turned and headed across the open lawn to the ice cream stand at the other end of the park.


Pam watched him go until his figure was indistinguishable from the rest of the background, then gently started to sway back and forth on the swing. She shook her head as she remembered the events of the day – starting with the stupid contacts problem. If she hadn't had so many things on her mind lately, she would have noticed the bottle she'd stuffed in her overnight back was practically empty. The fact that the cap was not quite on tight enough meant that the little bit that was left seeped into the underwear and bra she had packed for the next day. She giggled slightly at the idea that it had been fortunate that Jim had a blow-dryer she was able to use, or her contacts wouldn't have been the only thing she would have been missing when she went into work.


When she realized she was out of contact solution, she had asked Jim to run out and get her some more, but he insisted she looked just fine in her glasses. She didn't believe him in the slightest, but it felt good to hear him say that. No one had ever said that she looked nice in glasses, whether they meant it or not. Seeing as she knew she had a full bottle of solution waiting for her at home, it seemed a waste to spend the money on more when the option was simply wearing her glasses for one day. So she reluctantly agreed, only to spend the day regretting her decision. At least the Stanley Affair (as Jim had dubbed it shortly after lunch) distracted Michael from denigrating her appearance in them any further that day.


Dwight had of course objected when they got in Jim's car to leave for the day, but it was already four-thirty when Michael pushed them all out of the office, so it wasn't as if they were the only ones heading home. She wondered briefly what the implications of that meltdown would be tomorrow.


She continued to scan the view in front of her for signs of Jim's return, and smiled when she recognized him approaching. There was something in the way he walked – “loped” really was the better word for it – that made him immediately stand out to her, even if she couldn't clearly see his face. It was a just a genuineness about him, an aura of ease and comfort that always made her happy to see him, even if when he was simply returning to the living room after taking a glass into the kitchen. She truly never got enough of him, it seemed.


He handed her one of the cones, and sat down in the swing next to hers. “Oreo Chocolate Chip, I presumed,” he said.


“Lucky you,” she replied, taking a bite. She could feel him staring at her, and when she glanced over noticed he was still grinning. “What?” She asked, only feeling slightly paranoid.


“Nothing,” Jim said, eating his praline pecan cone.


“Then why are you smiling like that?”


“Aren't I allowed to smile?”


Pam's brow furrowed. “Not like that. That's the patented Jim Halpert 'I'm up to something' smile.” She took another lick of her cone and peered at it suspiciously. “You didn't do anything to my ice cream, did you?”


Jim's laugh sounded more like a bark. “No! What would I do to your ice cream?”


“Who knows with you,” she replied, starting to smile at her foolishness. “Maybe you put an engagement ring in the bottom of the cone.”


“Oh no,” Jim shook his head with certainty “Too messy.” He took another bite of his ice cream. “But it's coming.”


“Hmmph,” Pam snorted. “Says you.”


“It is.”


Pam felt her heart start to beat faster every time their conversation turned to this topic, even when she knew they were both joking. It's not that she doubted he would ask her at some point, or that she doubted what her answer would be. It was how peculiar and unconventional even joking about such a thing seemed. It was almost more nerve-wracking knowing he was going to ask than it would have been wondering if he ever would. Over the last few weeks his fake proposals had started her thinking on ways to get back at him. Ways to - as he put it to her – kick his ass.


“You know,” she said after a brief pause in their conversation, “you keep promising something's coming, but I bet you never stopped to think that I might beat you to it.”


Jim twisted his swing to face her. “What do you mean?”


Pam turned toward him. “Just that you might take so long to ask me that maybe I'll propose to you first.” She raised her eyebrows at him challengingly. “That would take the wind out of your sails, now wouldn't it?”


Jim reached out and grabbed one of the chains on Pam's swing and pulled her closer to him. He leaned forward towards her so closely that she had no trouble seeing the very unreadable look in his eyes. “I think I would manage,” he finally said. The he kissed her.


Pam was happy to continue their public spectacle until she felt something wet hit her knee. She pulled back in surprise to see that her ice cream was fast melting. “Crap,” she muttered.


“Here,” Jim said, fishing a napkin out of his pocket. “You just finish your ice cream and I'll clean up the mess you're making.”


“Me?” Pam laughed. “You're the one who distracted me.” Once she gotten her cone under control again, she remembered there was something she wanted to ask Jim about. “Hey, so what really happened with Ryan and Toby earlier?”


Jim shrugged, much like he had when she asked about it earlier. “Nothing,” he said.


“Jim,” she said firmly. “I couldn't see what was happening but I did hear Ryan's tone. Don't do that. Talk to me.”


“It's not a big deal,” Jim repeated, then he sighed. “I have always had the feeling that Ryan was not my biggest fan, and today he proved it.”


“Why? What did he say?”


“He claimed he was giving me a warning for poor performance.”


“What?” Pam practically yelped.


“It's nothing - he's talking bullshit. I know he's just mad because he found out I talked to Wallace about his website when we were at the Christmas party.”


“Did you point out that it was Wallace who approached you and asked your opinion? I mean, I was standing right there when he did it!”


Jim shook his head. “It's not worth the bother, Pam. For whatever reason he gets a kick out of reminding me he's my boss. I'm not really worried.”


“You shouldn't be.” Pam felt irritable at this news. “What did Toby say?”


Jim blew a breath out scornfully. “What does Toby ever say? Or do? He sat there saying nothing.”


Pam frowned. “So what exactly did Ryan say you were doing wrong? I know your sales are fine. I see the numbers when I fax them to Corporate.”


Jim finished the last of the sugar cone and crumpled the wrapper into his hand before answering her. “Basically that I goof around too much with Dwight --”


“Seriously??”


“-- and I spend too much time at the reception desk with you.”


Pam rolled her eyes. “He did not say that.”


Jim nodded, a small smile appearing. “Oh, he did indeed.”


“What an idiot.”


“Yep.”


Pam swayed slightly on the swing as she thought about what Ryan had said. She thought about what everyone at the office had said at various times since she and Jim started dating actually, and she realized that real friends would never be as rude or as snide or as snarky as various co-workers had been. And that was just the comments she had heard directly. She wondered how much Jim had put up with all this time. Then she thought about the small, dark green grosgrained box that sat nestled in the bottom of her purse. The same small box that had been in there for well over a month now, nearly two, waiting for a suitable excuse. For the right time. She felt a quiver in her stomach when she realized that the right time had officially arrived.


Pam cleared her thoughts and focused on unzipping the small black purse she still held in her lap. “I think I might have something that would shut them up,” she said, her voice sounding slightly hoarse in her ears. “I mean, it would give you a more justifiable reason to be at my desk all the time.”


Jim looked slightly confused. “Really?” He couldn't begin to imagine what she was talking about, and wondered if she was joking. “And what would that be?”


Slipping her hand into her bag her fingers curled around the small box, and she smiled pensively. Despite her comments earlier, it had never been her intention to propose to Jim. For all her new assertiveness she was still pretty much a traditionalist at heart, and she knew that Jim was too. And the gift now in her hand wasn't mean to be an engagement ring of any sort, really. It was just something she'd found and loved and made her think of him, though she couldn't explain why. But this new slight from Ryan – well, it brought out her protective, defensive side in a way that almost surprised her. He was doing just fine at work, and he had every right to spend as much time with her as he wanted. As much time as she wanted. And because of that, this seemed the most logical thing in the world to do.


She pulled out the box, her hand still holding it tightly, and turned her swing to face Jim. “I – ah -” She stammered. Words. She hadn't really given any thought to words. She looked up and he was close enough that she thought she saw a brief look of worry pass over his face. Or maybe it was just a reflection of her own.


“Are girls supposed to get down on one knee too?” She asked, with a half-laugh.


“Pam...?” Jim definitely was looking a bit concerned.


“Jim...?” She replied, mimicking his tone. They stared at each other for a moment, and Pam relaxed a bit when she saw the corners of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. “I will tell you that this wasn't originally purchased with any specific intention in mind, other than I saw it and it made me think of you.”


“Okay,” he said slowly, his gaze moving to her closed hand.


“But,” she sighed softly. “The truth is that I love you and I'm nowhere near as patient as you are.” She opened her hand, revealing the dark green box and with a slightly shaking hand opened it up. “So agree to marry me. Now.” Pam bit her lip nervously. “Finally.”


Jim stared at the Celtic band that sat in the box for what seemed like eons. Then he looked up into Pam's eyes, pulling her swing closer. He didn't say a word, and Pam was starting to feel nauseous. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. Maybe she'd just ruined it by not waiting for him to propose. She was about to close the box, when he finally spoke.


“I can tell you've never proposed before,” he said softly.


“Oh?” She looked as dumbfounded as she felt. It was not the response she would have guessed.


“It's kinda like Jeopardy, Pam,” he continued. “You're supposed to phrase it in the form of a question.”


Pam didn't know what to say, and it started to feel like she couldn't breathe, and then she saw it. The smile in his eyes that was now spreading to the rest of his face. He was teasing her. Of course he was – what did she expect?


“Can I have a re-do?”


Jim shook his head firmly. “Nope. Sorry.”


“Ah.” He was still making her squirm. “Can I have an answer anyway?”


Jim squinted and looked up, as if he was weighing his reply very carefully. He kept that position for an unreasonably long time by Pam's estimation, then finally nodded. “Yes.”


“Yes what? Yes I can have an answer?”


“Yes,” he repeated with another nod, this time accompanied by a broad smile.


“And.....?” She prompted, torn between the desire to punch him or kiss him.


Jim shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, okay. I guess.” He shrugged again. “Why not?”


Pam stared at him in disbelief, but before she had a chance to say anything Jim stood up, and tugged her off her swing. Her purse tumbled down onto the gravel as he put one hand on hers and the ring box, and wrapped the other around her waist, pulling her close. He kissed her, not once but several times, each time intense and heartfelt, with the single deep sound of the spoken word 'yes' dotting each kiss and assuring her that his reply was anything but lackadaisical.


He finally leaned back to look down at Pam, who was beaming back up at him. “I suppose you're pretty pleased with yourself now,” he said.


“I am,” she said with a touch of defiance.


Jim took the tiny box out of her hand and looked closely at the ring. “I recognize this.” He glanced at her and then back at the ring. “Isn't this the ring I said I'd buy you at the Artisan Fair?”


She nodded. “Yes – I didn't know how to tell you that I was looking at the ring for you, not me.”


“So when did you get it?”


“Well, remember when I said my knee was hurting and I asked you go get the car?”


Jim smirked at the memory. “You went back to the stall then.” He pulled the ring out of the box. “You are such a faker.”


She took the ring out of his hand. “It worked, didn't it?” She suddenly felt a little nervous again. “Give me your hand.”


“How am I ever going to be able to trust a word you say now?” He teased, putting his left hand in her upturned one.


“Oh, you totally shouldn't.” She replied cheekily. “I thought you would have figured that out by now.”


“Now you tell me,” he sighed.


“Shush,” Pam said, as much to the butterflies in her stomach as to his words. She slipped the ring on his finger, a small wordless thanks that she'd guessed his ring size correctly. “This ring reminded me of you because the pattern around it is called the borderless heart.”


“Is that like Doctors Without Borders?” Jim joked.


Pam glared up at him. “No.”


He put his arms around her shoulders and embraced her in a tight hug. “I'm kidding, you know I'm kidding. Sorry.” He kissed her temple. “I don't get engaged every day, you know.”


Pam wrapped her arms securely around his waist. “So it's okay I stole your thunder?” She asked tentatively.


“Who said you did?” He kissed her temple again. “I still have every intention of kicking your ass.”


Pam tilted her head up to look at him. “Oh, really?”


He grinned and replied with a kiss. “Yes, really,” he said when he was done. He laced his now adorned left hand with her right one and pulled her toward the car. “Now let's go celebrate.”


“Great, but let me stop home and put my contacts in, okay?” She replied, happily following along.


Jim stopped and shook his head. “Not necessary,” he said with a wolfish grin. “What I had in mind is definitely more dependent on the other senses.”



 

Chapter End Notes:
The ring:  http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/mst3kgirl/fanfic/RH062M.jpg


time4moxie is the author of 77 other stories.
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