Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are and the things you never want to lose.

xoxoxo

The music is blaring, switching swiftly from Frank Sinatra to a song apparently featuring someone on Gossip Girl.

At least this is what Kelly and Erin's combined squeals told her.  Pam knows she didn't include this song on her list either.  She looks back over her shoulder to see Andy commandeering the DJ booth.

Well. Pam nods to herself and takes another step forward.  At least that explains it. 

It's a thousand times quieter as she makes her way to the lobby, to a small seating area just beside the fireplace.  She wonders how long she can sit here without someone finding her.

She thinks even two minutes might help a lot.

Despite her need for a bit of peace she knows that today was perfect.  She really wouldn't have had it any other way.

Both she and Jim had known that inviting their co-workers was a recipe for disaster.  She didn't really want to get into where they were or what they'd been doing to delay the start of the ceremony.  She was sure that Michael had his own completely inappropriate explanation for where they had been.  But actually as it turned out no one really bothered to press them much. 

That was just fine with her, because when all was said and done, no one, not Dwight or Michael or her mom or Jim's brothers - no one was able to ruin anything about their wedding.  Of course, it helped things a lot that they weren't even there when it actually happened.

Someday they'd know.  The cameras followed them so at some point everyone would know what they had been up to - but right now she knows it's a memory that only she and Jim share.

And it's perfect.

He was so good at this backup plan thing.  Really, he was.  This fact was exactly how she was able to stop beating herself up about failing graphic design and to stop freaking out about quitting her job.  She knew he'd always be there to fall back on.

Yawning, Pam sinks into a chair, puts her feet up and smoothes a hand over her belly, her thumb rubbing gently over the new ring on her finger.  She thinks back to the way they got here and how it's kind of a minor miracle they ever got here at all.  She wonders if he had any idea, way back when, that this is where they'd end up. 

Based on the toast he made last night she's sure he must have. 

She shuts her eyes for a moment and lets herself remember.   When she sees him now in her mind all she can think is that he looks so much younger.  

She sees the way he looked when she first met him, his hair curling over his collar and his tie loose, like a little boy trying to play grown-up.   She remembers now the way his voice sounded, low and a little bit raspy when he asked if she could show him how to use the photocopier.

She can admit now that she knew what he was up to even then.

Her heart aches as she remembers the way he looked two years later, pleading at her with his eyes to say something different, something better, something more honest.   She remembers how panicked and paralyzed she had become in that moment.   How it took her almost a year to be able to move.

She stifles an unreasonable pang of jealousy as she pictures him with someone else, laughing and making plans for dinner and movies and weekends away.  She knows how he felt now, all those Fridays when he'd ask her what her weekend plans were and she mentioned Roy and the lake or the Poconos.

She wiggles her toes at the memory of stunned look on his face when she finally spoke from her heart, finally stopped lying to him and to herself, finally gave him a reason to believe what she said.

She sighs at the vision of him leaning against the door frame of the conference room, with his hair too short and his voice a bit tight.  She remembers the way he looked hours later, his eyes asking a question she answered with a kiss.

She can see him now, blushing as she reveals the fact that they're a couple now; teasing her on one knee in the fading sunlight; how he looked as thrilled as she felt when she got into Pratt; how he tried to sound sincere when he agreed they should wait to get engaged until she finished the program; how he kneeled again, sodden and smiling in the pouring rain.

She knew he was not always so confident - like the image she sees of the way he looked when he caught a glimpse of her leaning against his car in the parking lot, like he couldn't believe she was really there; or when he has tried to manage their unruly crew of co-workers to little or no success.  He's not perfect, far from it, but she knows he's completely perfect for her.

There are albums upon albums of photos she carries in her mind but there are two portraits that are her all-time favorites.  The way he looked when the doctor broke the news, dumbfounded and overjoyed all at once; and the way he looked at her today, his expression quiet and serious as he sliced off more than half of his tie.

The hem of her dress is still damp around her slightly swollen ankles and she can tell that if she sits here for one more minute she'll fall fast asleep.

Fighting to stay awake, she blinks slowly and realizes she now has another picture to add to her collection.  She stops, takes a moment, and takes him in.

His hair is mussed slightly and he's still wearing that ridiculous tie.  He's ditched his jacket and the sleeves of his tuxedo shirt are rolled up to his elbows.  She doesn't think she's ever seen him look more handsome.

She blinks again, the shutter in her mind capturing the image of him standing before her forever.

"I was trying to figure out if I should wake you," he whispers.

"I wasn't asleep...yet.  It was close though."  Her eyes go soft as she stares back at him.  She wonders if there will ever come a time when just a glimpse of him ceases to make her heart beat just a bit faster.  "I can't believe you still have that tie on."

He looks down at his chest, lifts the tie and grins.  "I won't tell Pete and Tom what happened to it.  It's driving them crazy."

"Let's never tell them."  Pam smiles widely. 

"Deal."   He takes another step towards her.  "So I really didn't interrupt your nap?  You definitely looked like you were dreaming or something."

"Nope.  Just remembering a little."

"Good things?"

"Mostly."  She sits up a bit straighter.  "I was just going through my mental photo albums."

"You know we could have saved a bundle on the photographer if you'd just told me about that sooner." Jim stops at the coffee table before her.  He lifts her feet and places them gently in his lap as he sits down on the edge of it.

"Relax," she laughs back at him.  "We got away without having to pay for a video, so..."

"Fair enough."  He slips off her right shoe and rubs the sole of her foot gently.  "I wonder if we have the same pictures in our albums."

She shakes her head.  "I don't know if that's possible, most of the ones I was just looking at are of you."

"Ahh.  True.  But I'm willing to bet some of them are similar."

"Okay."  She smiles.  "Let's compare then.  I'll start.  I was thinking of the day I first met you.  You looked so much younger."

"Working with Dwight has aged me greatly."  Jim smirks back at her.  "I think I'm actually going gray..."

It's the perfect set up and she runs with it.  "Ooo!  In that case I can tell you where Michael buys his hair dye."

"No thanks."

"It's only eight ninety-nine," she continues.  "I think the color he uses is called...Sable Cove.  They even sell it at Costco I think..."

He stares back at her,  trying to keep from laughing.  "I said no thanks."

Pam places her hand over her stomach again and rubs gently.  "I mean - since you and he have this comedy act going on now maybe you should match..."

"Pam..."

"Are you going to start with rehearsal dinners only or go straight to the clubs or..."  She trails off and bites her bottom lip.

"Are you done?"

She nods solemnly.  "I think so."

"Good."  A grin blooms across his face, clearly delighted with her.  "As I was saying, I remember exactly what you looked like the day I met you.   You were so beautiful."

"You're ridiculous.  Jim - my hair was just awful and frizzy then."

He cocks his head to the side and gives her a grin.  "I love your hair."

"I like yours too."  Pam smiles wider, leaning over and smoothing his unruly hair down with her palm.   "Well.  Not as much as I like Kevin's..."

"Yeah.  Seriously.  What was that?"   He reaches up and captures her hand in his, chuckling softly.  "So what else were you thinking?" 

She hesitates for just a moment.  "Okay, so then I was remembering other not so fun stuff."

Jim's face falls slightly.  His eyes go a bit dark but his voice stays light.  "Not too many of those pictures though right?"

"No."  Pam smiles reassuringly.    "Just a few."

"Alright..."  He nods.  "Here's one from my not-so-fun collection.  When I came back from Stamford."  He stops and meets her eyes.  "God.  You looked so amazing."

She shakes her head.  "Now I know you're lying.  You didn't even notice what I looked like.  You barely even spoke to me!"

"I definitely noticed.  I can prove it."  He takes a moment, trying to find the right words. "Your hair...it was kind of...softer and you had on this...gray sweater.  It looked...I don't know...different. Heavier than the sweaters you used to wear.   I remember thinking I'd never seen it before.   You know - come to think of it I've never seen it again..."

She shrugs and stares down at her lap.  "Yeah.   I loved that sweater.  My mom made it."

"So why don't you wear it?"

She looks back up at him and gives him a weak smile.  "I-I put it away. I decided it was...unlucky..."

He blows out a breath slowly.  They both know it's not really about the sweater.  "Well.  I think you should unpack it - wear it again."

"...plus I'm sure it won't even fit me now."

"So?  You can wear it after."

Pam rolls her eyes.  He's nothing if not persistent.  "If you insist, I'll see if I can find it."

He brings her hand to his lips and brushes a kiss over her knuckles.  "I insist."

Jim looks down at their joined hands and then back up to her.  "I also remember that all I could think is ‘You're crazy if you think you can ever get over this girl.' "

Pam sniffles a bit as she smiles back at him.  "I'm really glad you didn't."

He gives her hand a squeeze.  "Me too."

She squeezes back, her eyes misty. "I really love you, you know." 

Jim nods slightly.  "I know.  Love you too." 

He doesn't want to dwell, so he kisses her hand again and continues.  "Let's see.  What else? Oh!  I remember what you looked like the first time I watched you paint.   I'd never seen you more determined or focused...and I gotta tell you - you look really cute when you concentrate.  Your nose - it kind of...wrinkles.   And don't get me started about how you look in glasses."

She blinks, wishing she could take her contacts out right this moment.  "Well that's fortunate for me then."

"Hey.  What about that time I visited you in New York...we went to that little French place.  You made me eat snails..."

"I didn't make you eat anything!" She laughs at the memory.  "You took it as a dare.  I said you had to eat just one and you were out to prove something.  But please - I got through this whole day without getting sick, even on the boat.  Don't ruin it."

"I remember you were wearing your hair up...just like it is tonight."

She runs a hand over her veil.  "You spend a lot of time thinking about my hair don't you?"

"I spend a lot of time thinking about you - period." He eases off her other shoe, rubs a thumb over the arch of her foot as another picture flashes before her eyes.

She leans back and lets out a contented sigh.  "Remember the first time you stayed over?"

"Ummm."  He glances back at her as if she's crazy.  "Yeah.  Of course I do."

Pam's eyes sparkle as she tries to keep a straight face.  "I remember it's when I learned about your foot fetish..." 

His hand stills over her toes.  "It's not a fetish."  A blush begins to creep up from under his collar.  "You just have cute feet.  And c'mon Pam.   I mean...I'd never really seen them before..."

She bats her eyes and lowers her voice.  "There was a lot that night you'd never seen before."

Jim moves his hand to snag her ankle and she jumps.  He knows exactly where she's a bit ticklish. 

"Are we talking about those kind of pictures right now?  Because I have a lot of those..."

"Maybe.  But let's stay here for a second."   She nudges his hand with her foot urging him to continue.  "I like this one.   I remember the way you looked standing in my doorway.  You seemed so shocked.  Like you couldn't believe I'd actually invited you in."

"That's because I really couldn't.  It was completely surreal.  You know when you keep wondering what something will be like - and then when it happens you can't really even believe it?"

"Yeah."  Pam nods.  "I know exactly what that's like."  She moves her feet off his lap and inches closer.

Jim traces the line of her jaw lightly with the back of his hand.  "Hmm.  I think we found a picture in common."

"I think you're right.  You know..."  She leans over and kisses him softly.  "Andy never slept in that room last night.  He slept on my floor - which - by the way - is a picture in my completely bizarre mental photo album."

"Really?" Jim kisses her back, lingering over it for a moment.  "That's got to be quite an album."

"It is."

He continues to question her between kisses.  "Is Dwight in the hazmat suit in that one?  Meredith making me sign her cast?  Creed - well - just any picture of Creed..."

She nods slowly, becoming more preoccupied by the second.  "Yes.  All of those."

He rests his lips against her forehead and chuckles.  "That's a really scary album.  Let's shut it for...like...ever."

"If only."  She takes his hands in hers, threads her fingers though his as she pulls back slightly.  "So.  What I was saying is...I'm not really so worried about what went on in there anymore..."

Jim's eyes stay fixed on hers as he replies.  "This is excellent information."

"I know." Pam shifts and moves her lips to brush just under his ear. "So...umm...do you think anyone will miss us if we left now?"

"Do you care?"

Pam smiles against his skin.  "No.  Not really."

"Alright then."  Jim stands and tugs her towards him.  "Let's go."

"Let's."  She agrees as she wobbles for a second, tripping over the hem of her gown.

He stop to steady her and realizes the reason.   She's barefoot.  "Pam, wait.  Your shoes..."

"Ugh."  She runs a hand over her lower back and sighs.  "Leave them   I'm never going to wear them again anyway..."

"Eh.  You're right.  We can always get you some empty tissue boxes to wear tomorrow.  I hear Kevin's starting a trend."

She stares up at him in disbelief.  "We work with the most insane people on the planet - you know that right?"

He ducks his head and chuckles.  "Yeah but...we work there too.  So what does that make us?"

She regards him thoughtfully before rising on her toes and brushing her lips against his. 

"Lucky?"  She whispers with a grin.

His arm snakes around her holding pulling her closer still and deepening the kiss.  "We are, aren't we?"