For awhile, she had been able to live in her fantasy world.  The world in which Jim called once a week to see what sort of idiocy Dwight had managed to stumble upon, or whether or not Michael still had a job.  The world that housed their millions of emails back and forth, detailing what each had for lunch (she would never forget the introduction of Big Tuna), or what their plans were for the weekend.  She would occasionally send him a picture she had drawn, one that she didn’t see fit for art class, but good enough for his praise.  And he would deliver.  And finally, the world that allowed them to always make tentative plans to see each other again, but never giving way to actually letting it happen.

But that was the daydream.  Today was reality.  The way his shoulders hunched over his desk when he was deep in conversation with a potential client, the way the fingers of his left hand would absentmindedly scratch the back of his neck when he was concentrating on sales reports.  These were the truths that unfolded right in front of her.  She didn’t mean to watch him, she didn’t mean to study his every move, but he was right there, a glaring reminder of that night in May that changed her life forever.

It was with certainty that she could say that there hadn’t had more than a few short exchanges since he’d been back, most of them the day he had returned.   Since then, the air between them had been almost hostile, tentative at best.  Jim had set the tone the day he came back to Scranton, and here she was, like always, Pam Beesley following suit.  She had noticed Karen’s hand on his back, the fleeting offer of gum.  Each moment, a single stab to her already fragile heart; each pierce driving the excitement of the day further down until it landed with a thud somewhere in the pit of her stomach, now fully transformed into knot of trepidation.  Her body ached as she had climbed into her car that night, tears on the verge of spilling from her tired eyes.  A day that should have been joyous had turned treacherous, and for the first time in her days at Dunder Mifflin, she contemplated leaving all together.

But she hadn’t, and here she was, one week later, standing in front of the mirror in the Ladies room trying to wipe the stupid grin from her face.  A prank, not aimed at Dwight, but at her.  His eyes extending the invitation to participate after he swiveled his chair in her direction.  She reciprocated, her return stare a mixture of bewilderment, delight, and fake annoyance.  And at the end of the day, the song Rainbow Connection would no longer remind her of The Muppets, but of him, and his gesture towards reestablishing their friendship.

Now six hours later, she sat, legs curled beneath her, the warm cup of tea in her hands as she stared at the brightly lit Christmas tree.  Her fingers ached to dial his number; she wanted more than anything to discuss what provoked him to lob Andy at her the way he did.  But she knew better, baby steps as people said.  After all, he was still dating Karen.  A small tremor went through her as she realized he may not even be home, even if she did call.  Her eyes closed slowly as she willed the thought from her mind.  Today had been a good day, and she wasn’t ready to ruin it with speculations of Jim gallivanting around Scranton with his newest relationship.

Her stare followed the tree lights to the top, stopping on the illuminated star inches from the ceiling.  It seemed brighter tonight, much like her mood--a drastic change from the previous six evenings.  She knew her challenge wasn’t over, it had only just begun.  But the fire inside of her, the one that had almost extinguished in the days prior, had been rekindled.  Friends.  It was a start, a base for reconnecting with Jim.  It was their comfort zone, if they even had one.

She couldn’t tell him how she felt, at least not right now.  Purposely working to sabotage his newest attempt at happiness was not the way she wanted to start their next chapter.  Although, she wasn’t planning on sitting idle either.  She had to show him, she had to make him see the Pam that she was now.  In a way, she needed to remind him of all the things he had loved about her.  Wrapping her hands tighter around the mug, she decided that’s exactly what she would do.

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas  played in the background as this year’s office Christmas party reached its full swing.  They had gotten the go-ahead from Corporate to allow eggnog this year, the real kind, and it was apparent someone had doubled its alcohol content.  She hadn’t had a drop, instead she spent the entire night making sure things went smoothly for all the guests.  She and Karen had planned this party down to a science, and wanted to make sure everything worked out for the best. 

The night was ending; she had danced with Toby, manned the boombox with Kevin, and even sang karaoke with Andy (although he had run with most of the song, singing against a sexy, high falsetto was tough to compete with).  A handful of guests remained, Jim among them.  It was as though some magnetic force pulled her to him, but she resisted, doing everything in her power to maintain a respectable distance.  They had exchanged words a few times, him commenting on the decorations, her commenting on the Christmas tie Michael had given him for being his next in command.  But that had been it, and now the night was almost over.

She was standing against the doorway to the conference room, surveying the last moments of Christmas 2006, when he leaned up against the opposite doorframe beside her.  His stance mirrored hers, arms folded across his chest, one foot crossed over the other.  “One of the best holiday parties I’ve been to in years,” was all he said.  “Jim,” she uttered, turning towards him, finding hard to take a deep breath.  She couldn’t believe what she was about to say, but after all Christmas was about telling people how you feel.

Then, without warning, a strong voice yelled “Mistletoe!”  Their gaze lifted, until it focused on the holiday ornament, and then refocused as their eyes met each other.  The world seemed to stop then, as their lips met, a soft, yet earnest kiss, as though a test to see if what they had both felt on Casino Night to be true.  Shivers ran through her, nearly causing Pam to grab hold of anything substantial within her reach, but all she could find was him.  They parted, her arms still intertwined with his.  She refused to exhale, afraid that this was all just a part of her imagination.  But the applause from the back of the room confirmed otherwise, and so did his eyes.   There wasn’t anything left to say, all she could focus on was how intense the hazel color of his eyes had become. 

Slowly, the world returned to clarity as the myriad of colors from the Christmas lights came into focus.  Nothing had changed, yet everything was different.  It was the moment of truth….

“Jim…”

“Pam…”