Jim thinks he may throw up. Seriously, just vomit everywhere. Which is really gross but he thinks he'd feel about a trillion times better if he just does it. That's what she said. Fuck, goddamnit, NO. Just.. NO.

He sighs and wrings his hand through his hair and sighs again. He knows he's making a big deal about it and that he just needs to breathe and calm down and just.. breathe. Lots of breathing would help, he thinks.

But it's just that after the longest three months of his life is about to be over and Pam is going to walk through the door and he thinks he'll wait about 3.7 seconds before he attacks her. Except that he doesn't want to do that (well, he does) but he made dinner and there's wine chilling and he honestly wants to hear about her day and how the drive home was and he wants to hear about her drawing beside the fountain in Central Park or sitting in the ledge of her apartment and painting and how awesome her classes were and just everything. Granted, he's heard it all before but he thinks it'll sound better when he can see her talk about it. He knows that its what he's missed the most- not being able to see the brightness and cheer being in New York brought to her face and the light it brought to her eyes. He heard it in her voice every night but.. yeah. Not the same at all.

He laughs a little because it's kind of funny if you think about it. He spent almost five years missing her just fine and just because he can touch or kiss or hug her anytime he wants or just because he gets to lay with her in his bed and gets to tell (and show) her just how ridiculously in love with her he is, he loses just about every ounce of sanity he has being away from her for three months. It's truly amusing.

Of course he's seen her more than a few times since she'd been in New York. He'd done most of the driving, especially in the past six weeks when her workload begin to pick up more. He could never stay beyond a weekend though because there were actually days when he had work (and let's not talk about how absolutely dreadful work was without Pam there. And while Maria, the temporary receptionist was really nice, uh.. clearly she was not Pam) which shock, right?

It was always weird how the drive to New York felt centuries longer than the drive home. Maybe it was because it always felt like forever before he could see her again but coming home, well, it took a lot less time for him to come home to an empty house and an empty bed. That part definitely sucked the most.

But he was really, really proud of her and he couldn't wait to see what kinds of doors this opened for her and he just hopes that it's just the beginning for her. It's time that she see, through her eyes and other's, just how utterly amazing he always known she was.

Jim snaps his head out of this thoughts and glances at the caller ID on his cell phone. 7:24. So she should literally be walking through the door any second now. Awesome.

Except. He stands suddenly and half jogs-walks to his bedroom and picks up the little black box that had a permanent residence on his nightstand the past 90 days. He fingers it softly and closes it, holding it in his hand and nods to himself. Tonight, he thinks. Tonight.. and if they're too busy tonight (which really, no complaints there) then tomorrow. Definitely. What better way to celebrate her return? And to conserve whatever sanity he has left too, of course.

He walks around the kitchen briefly, the food keeping warm in the oven, the wine in the fridge. The dining room table is set, candles waiting to be lit. He smooths out the white button-down shirt he's wearing, the one she loves so much, and scans the house again and thinks everything's fine. Everything is good, you know, minus the fact that she still isn't here.

He's always been a pretty patient man but goddamn. He wished she would have let him drive down and pick her up but she absolutely refused to let him, telling him it was pretty pointless and that it was much easier for her to just drive home by herself and at the time, he didn't argue too much because it left him the entire day to plan their first real evening together in what felt like a lifetime.

But now..

He sits down on the couch again, sighs again, and looks at the time on his phone again. 7:30. Ok, seriously, where is she? He flips open his phone and is about to hit #2 on his speed dial and whine about how she isn't here and if she doesn't hurry up, the chicken is going to get cold. But then his head snaps to the door when he hears the rustling of something and the clinging of keys.

He doesn't even think about it and jumps from the couch, racing to the door. He pulls the door open and is pretty sure he looks like a complete.. something.. clingy idiot maybe, but she has her keys in her hand and glances at him, giving him a warm smile. "Hey you."

Jim instantly pulls her to him and sighs contentedly into her hair and feels every single muscle in him relax when she wraps her arms around tightly around him. "Hey." he whispers. He gently pushes her away and lightly kisses her forehead.

He has her face in his hands and glances into her eyes and thinks, for once, he really doesn't have words for how he missed her, and how he loves her, and just.. everything. Instead he kisses her lightly, and smiles. "Welcome home."