A/N: Pam and Jim have spoken. Two more chapters after this one. So, be prepared for it to settle down. Probably no more angst, just the little fluff that I like to write, but I am not so good at. Hopefully an idea for another story will come in my mind soon. I've been neglecting my stories to write this one... But I hope you enjoy. Doubtful next chapter will be up before Tuesday.

Also, Thanks for the reviews!! Oh, and I've posted two new stories since the last chapter. One is called An Outsider's Look, and it's a factual explanation to the mystery that was Pam and Roy, and why Pam left him. The other is called Dead Inside, and it's really angsty. Read if you want :)

He wakes up to the sun coming in through the window, and the part of his body not covered by the sheets feels hot, almost as if he's standing right under the sun. He reaches his arm out to touch Pam, but groans when he finds her side of the bed cold and empty. He opens his eyes, yawning, and looks to his left where her body had been the night before as he fell asleep. The sheets are scrunched up and there's a bit of an indent from her body on the bed, but if someone hadn't known they'd been sleeping together already, they wouldn't have known by staring at the bed. The only remnants of her was a slight spot on the pillow from her drool and a few strands of her golden-brown hair.

He sat up quickly, wondering where she was. His ears were used to listening to her. His senses had become so attuned to her in the past year that sometimes he wondered if they even needed to talk—their communication was amazing without it. The sheets fell off him as he sat up, and he was suddenly very aware that he was naked in his bed. He remembered the night before. The proposal. The yes. The kissing. The making love. The tears. He remembered how perfect it had been. At least on his side. But now she was gone, and he wasn't sure what had driven her to leave him laying in bed at ten in the morning.

He got out of bed slowly, pulling some boxer shorts out of his drawer and slipping them on his body, pulling them up to his waist. He scratched his head for a moment, looking around the room, taking in the sight of their discarded clothes, left in a hurried pile on the floor. He picked up her clothes and held them in his hands, smiling softly, smelling them. He'd never liked the smell of sex before. Perhaps it was because he wasn't used to smelling body odor. It wasn't something Americans were particularly fond of. However, sex brought a whole new odor. Of all the girls he'd been with, none of them had smelled good.

But she had. Her sex smell was so good and pleasurable he wanted to sell it to a perfume store. He couldn't have got enough of it if he tried. He smelled her clothes lightly, smiling slightly at how pleased he was that he had turned her on so much that her clothes still smelled like sex the morning after. And that's when he noticed it. Held to the mirror by a small magnet was a piece of paper. Her writing was covered in it. He wondered what he had to pick up from the drycleaners this time. He should have thought to check their special place. That's where they always left their notes to each other. Once, she'd forgotten the paper and just written on the mirror with her lipstick. He hadn't wiped it off for days.

He walked into the bathroom slowly and pulled the letter off the mirror, smiling to himself as his fingers ran over the words, and he smiled at the thought that she had touched the paper too. Not very long ago.

Jim-

I remember when I was little I used to talk to my husband all the time. I never knew who he was or what his name was, I would just start talking to him. He and I would have tea parties and play with Barbies and roll around outside. We giggled all the time. I remember one time, in specific, when there was a really big meanie that I didn't like named Johnny. Me and my husband plotted revenge on him. I can't remember what it was, but it was really good. I guess when I met you I should have realized you would be the man I would marry. After all, who else would seek revenge on a boy with me, other than you?

I'm telling you this story because I want you to know it's always been you. You've always been the one that I've felt most comfortable with, the one that caught me when I fell and pushed me toward my dreams. You've always been my knight in shining armor. Whenever I pictured my wedding and my future as a little girl, it was always you I pictured. Not your face, but you.

I know we don't talk about my past very much, and believe me, I don't want to start talking about it more. I've come to grips with it, and I'm okay. I've moved on. But someone once told me that you can't appreciate where you're going unless you know where you've been. By someone, I mean Hitch. I used to imagine my house with a terrace. It worked out a lot the way that Noah builds Allie her dream house in The Notebook. I know you've seen it, so shush. A quiet man, desperately in love with me, builds me a huge house with a terrace in order to still the throws of love and bring me back to him. But you never needed a terrace.

I hate being engaged. When the abuse set in with Roy, I told myself that if I ever got out of that relationship, I was never going to be engaged again. I wasn't going to get married. It was too hard and too painful. I was in that relationship for so long that there was no code of normalcy for me to depend on. All of my thoughts and views about relationships and marriage came from that one broken relationship. I know you remember the night you found me, too vividly. I haven't told you this before, but I almost didn't get up and call you. Part of me really wanted to lie there on the ground and bleed to death. Die from the cold. Whatever it was. Part of me just really didn't want to survive the night. What did I have to look forward to?

For some reason, I'm not sure why, I called you. Why you, I have no idea. You were the first one that popped into my head. Before my mother, it was you. Just like it had always been. From the time I was a little girl and my only friend in the world was my imaginary husband. And you came for me. Picked me up, brought me home to you, and began to teach me about how amazing life can be.

Jim, I owe so much to you. I know you're shaking your head now as you read this, claiming that you didn't do anything, but you did. You really did. I had been miserable for so long I didn't know what happy even began to look like. It was a foreign concept, an unattainable goal. How could someone like me ever be happy? And then you came. And you showed me what happiness meant. You showed me what love really was, Jim.

I'd had this idea that love was a grand gesture. It was sex, or it was calling someone "sweetie" or "dear." And yes, it is all of those things, but it's so much more. It's having hope in someone. It's knowing that you'd rather be with someone than without them. It's the feeling of watching someone you know change into someone better. And you taught me all of this. You taught me what it means to truly give yourself over, without giving up your dignity. How to truly love someone else without letting them have all of the power. And I owe so much to you, for that.

I know that the phrase I love you will never come close to describing how I feel about you. How much my body and my soul ache for your presence. How sometimes, I just want to surround myself with you because being with you is oxygen. I can't breathe when we're not together, and I love that feeling. The feeling of depending on you. Of knowing that there is something bigger than you or I respectively.

Thank you for last night. I know you've been waiting for it for so long, and so patiently. I never once felt rushed or pressured into having sex with you. I appreciate you letting me take my time. It wasn't that I didn't want it, Jim. It's that I was scared. I was scared it might ruin our relationship, change the dynamics, do everything to us that it did to Roy and I. I should have known better, but I didn't. I do now, though.

When I look at you, I see more than just the face of a man that rocks my world (you do… Oh boy, you do.) I see my life, staring back at me. There is so much hope and future in your eyes, and I know that there is so much I have left to discover with you. So many experiences we will share with each other. I can't wait. I can't wait to see the beauty life brings us. Our wedding day, our honeymoon night, all of the nights we'll spend together, laughing because we can't figure out the dishwasher or because I burnt dinner. The moment we'll find out we're pregnant, seeing you take our daughters out on dates and showing them how a man should treat them. Seeing you teach our sons how to play sports. Watching them grow up under our eyes and crying together when they go to kindergarten, have their first dates, take the keys to our car, graduate, and go to college. Watching our children get married, and our grandchildren being born. You getting irritated because you can't find your dentures. Me needing you to rub cream on my foot because of my arthritis. Being picky and irritable, but knowing that we spent more than half of our lives together. Dying with you in my arms. I think of all we'll do and accomplish. The fights and those moments of pure bliss. And I know I've never wanted anything more than you, and a life with you. I hope you know that.

Right now, though, I'm out getting ready for the next phase of our life together. My mom and I are shopping, looking for the perfect wedding dress. You know how much I hate being engaged, right? Does April work for you? I'll be the girl, walking down the aisle in a long, white dress, smiling as she stares into the eyes of the man she's dreamed about since she was a little girl. We're shopping, getting stuff for the wedding and you have no idea how excited I am about it. Planning a wedding never seemed this fun. Meet us for lunch at Cugino's, okay? Noon.

Also, you never told me you asked my mom if you could marry me. You old softy, you. No, but seriously, thank you. It meant a lot to me.

I love you. Always and forever.

-The next Halpert

Jim smiled as he folded up the letter. He'd never quite gotten a love letter from Pam before, but he thought he might be able to get used to it. He walked over to the nightstand on his side of the bed and opened the small drawer, placing the letter inside. That's when he noticed the Christmas card. The one from years ago when he'd drawn her name in Secret Santa and decided to tell her how he felt. He'd stole it back from her later that night as she'd searched through her teapot. The teapot that sat on his stove, holding water right now. He smiled as he thought of that, how he'd always dreamed of it and would until the day he died, but it wasn't really a dream. It was reality.

He pulled it out and set it on the bed, knowing there was a reason he'd kept it all these years. He glanced up at the clock, cursing softly as he realized he would be late to meet Pam and her mom for lunch. It was already 11:30; he'd overslept. He pulled his jeans and a t-shirt on, ran a brush through his hair, and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked somewhat sloppy, but Pam's mom had seen him a hundred times before. He didn't feel the need to impress her, or Pam, with a fashionable entrance.

It was fifteen minutes past noon when he arrived at Cugino's. He could see Pam and her mother sitting in a far corner, laughing. He could only see Pam's back, but still, he had to smile when he saw her. Even from the back of her head she looked happy and in love. He smiled as he thought of her. How in love with her he was. How miserably, painfully, delightfully in love with her he was.

He'd never really wanted to get married. He'd always dreamed of being a bachelor until the day he died, living the life and having sex with multiple women, maybe even multiple women at one time. But then he'd met her, and his empty dreams of meaningless sex, meaningless relationships, and a meaningless life had seemed to flee instantly. The moment he saw her he knew he wanted to marry her. Wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her, even if that's all they did. Wanted the house with the terrace, the kids that looked like her, the joy of making love with her and her alone. He wanted it all, and it hit him so forcefully as he looked at her back that morning. He had to smile. He had the overwhelming urge to just run up to her, engulf her in his arms and never let go.

He made his way toward the women, silently motioning to Pam's mother not to mention he was there. He stood behind Pam, covered her eyes with his hands, and kissed her cheek. He watched her smile and he could feel her eyelashes brushing against his hands softly. "Hi," she whispered, and he knew she was relishing in the feeling of being in love.

He kissed the top of her head and took his hands off her eyes, smiling. "Good morning Star shine." She laughed and he patted her head before turning to her mother and giving her a huge hug. He smiled as they embraced, before sitting down to lunch.

They sat in a comfortable silence, each of them taking sips from their drinks before Pam piped up. "Baby?" He smiled, she'd never called him that before.

"Yes Pumpkin," She grinned, staring at him, her eyes locking with his in such a way that neither of them were aware that anyone else existed for a moment.

"What do you think about April 25th?" she asked softly, chewing on her bottom lip. He smiled. He knew what she was really asking, but he wasn't going to let her get away with asking such a wide opened question.

"I would have to say it's my idea of the perfect date because it's not too hot, and it's not too cold. All you really need is a light jacket." He grinned as Pam's mom laughed, and Pam giggled, swatting him on the arm.

"I hate you," she said, laughter in her voice.

"Hmm, that's too bad because I love you." She smiled.

"I love you, too."

"I thought you hated me, Beesly."

"Don't call me that!" She said, smiling. "I want to get used to my new name."

"Which one?" He asked, teasing her. "Fabio?"

She giggled. Her mother was trying desperately to follow the conversation, but it seemed that every time she got an idea of what they were talking about, they threw her for a loop again.

"I'll make you a deal," Jim said. Pam eyed him carefully, before nodding. He continued, "I'll stop calling you Beesly on April 25th if you promise you'll wear a pretty white dress and sign your life away to me."

She smiled softly, and he could see she was trying to keep a straight face, but the grin was too powerful, it was overtaking her. Suddenly, the smile was the biggest one he'd seen in a long time as she reached her hand over and took his, her engagement ring glistening in the sun that came in through the windows.

"Deal," she smiled, her eyes lighting up. He took her hand and held it, running his thumb over hers, knowing he'd never want it any other way.

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