While the webcams certainly made a world of difference, they were still practically a world away. But she couldn't complain. It was so great to see his face while he rambled on about the latest antics that Andy was pulling up in Stamford, to notice the way his expression lit up when he watched her paint. It was more comforting to watch I love you's trickle off his lips, absorbing the way they couldn't resist turning up, than simply hearing it over the phone.
They chatted online so often that she found a mold of her rear end taking form in the seat of her couch that was closest to an electrical outlet where her laptop was almost permanently plugged in. It was after work, when he was still in his dress clothes, but he'd gotten her into the habit of "bringing her with" while he changed. They shared dinners, sometimes on the couch to compare Jeopardy answers, but more often than not, actually sitting at the kitchen table, to make it feel more real.
He would watch her paint. She would make off-handed yet educated guesses about whatever game he was watching.
On Tuesday evening, their conversation was largely bound by the rumors of closing branches and mergers and more life altering choices than he'd picture happening in the course of a year.
"I guess it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, being transferred back," he'd said, shifting the fist that his chin rested on while he lay sprawled on his stomach atop his comforter. "We'd be in the same city, at least."
"The same state, might I remind you." She was freshly home from her watercolors class, changing into one of his old t-shirts, but out of frame enough that he only caught her bare calves while she slipped it over her head. It made him chuckle with delight that she'd been writhing under him naked not days ago, but she stepped out of frame to change her clothes.
"It would certainly solve the dilemma I'm currently having."
She could hear the smile in his eyes before she turned around to see it unfurl.
"Oh? And what 'dilemma' would you be referring to?" She mimicked his position, lying on her stomach and facing him with her chin perched in cupped hands.
"The one where you're in Scranton, in nothing but my t-shirt, and I'm doing my best not to reach through this damned webcam to touch you."
He was using that voice, the one that chilled her spine and simultaneously made her hot everywhere. It was the voice that, not so long ago, she'd come to long for on a day at the office, because it was a tone reserved for their intimate moments when the rest of the world seemed to disappear, and they were enveloped in a bubble over reception, just she and Jim. Now, it was similar, but oh so different. The sultry way in which her lips curled up told him just so.
"Socks," she uttered simply.
"Hmm? I beg your pardon?"
With a flick of her ankles behind her head, he noticed the peek of one grey foot and one of sky blue. Despite the heated desire in her eyes, the fact that she mismatched her socks was downright adorable.
"I'm also wearing socks. Not just your t-shirt. Socks, too."
"My apologies," he said, clearing his throat. "Guess we'll just have to do away with those, too."
"And what about hypothermia?"
"I'm sure I can find a creative way to keep you warm."
"So, my buddy Jeff from college called me today," he began on Wednesday night while they virtually perched on one another's kitchen counters as dinner was prepared.
"Oh yeah?"
"He had a pretty interesting proposition." While she breaded pork chops, he described the sports marketing idea that he and his buddy had devised back in college at four in the morning over beers and textbooks that were being used as tables. Now, that pipe dream was actually on the verge of becoming a reality.
"The only drawback to the whole operation is that Jeff and all of the people invested want to set up shop in Philly."
"So...still, what, a two hour difference?" she asked, squinting her eyebrows together as she melted butter over the stovetop.
"Exactly," he sighed, throwing a pinch of salt into his boiling pot of water. "Same shit, different city."
"But would you be happier?"
"I would be happier if you were actually sitting on my counter right now, considering how hard it is to hug plastic."
She chuckled, reaching out to touch his virtual face.
"Seriously, Jim. Would you be happier working in Philly than staying at Dunder Mifflin?"
"You see, that's where I have a bit of a problem." She nodded, waiting for him to continue while she flipped her sizzling dinner. "Philly has the job. Scranton has you."
He shrugged, offering a smile that said I know that sounds cheesy and pathetic but I can't help it with downturned eyes.
She couldn't disagree, could only whisper, "Yeah. Sounds like quite the dilemma," before they went back to silent cooking.
"This is going to drive me insane," she laughed on Thursday night after returning home from class. They'd put on CSI to watch together, but his broadcast was a fraction of a second behind hers. Every time Grissom would present a piece of evidence in her living room, it would echo through the computer speakers seconds later.
In the midst of a balance of contented laughter and silence, she casually mentioned, "Hey, so my professor pulled me aside after class tonight."
"Oh yeah? Were you naughty? Did you have to stay back to improve your grade?" He exaggeratedly waggled his eyebrows and watched her eyes roll to the ceiling.
"Stop it," she scolded with a sardonic chuckle. "No, he actually wanted to talk about recommending me to a continuing art program. He said it would be good for me. That I should definitely go farther than community college."
All the while, she was fidgeting with the label on her beer bottle and forcing her gaze to drift everywhere but her computer screen. With Roy, it had always been A waste of time and We don't have the money and Are you sure you want to spend all that time on a hobby?
She was used to bracing herself for the sting of disappointment.
"Really? Pam, that's awesome."
But then, this was Jim.
And her eyes found his, a deep green that was beaming with pride as he sat up from his lounging position to smile and nod and pry for more information.
She was still getting used to it.
"Mhm," she began, nodding her head slowly at first as a smile crept its way across her cheeks. "I thought it was kind of cool," she shrugged. "He must see something in me if he's recommending me to some fancy schmancy art school."
"He has no reason not to. You're so, so good at what you do. And I'm not just saying that because you're cute."
And he wasn't.
He didn't say things just to appease her or to get her to shut up like Roy so often had. He was actually involved in her art, asking questions about everything from color choice to brush choice, offering input when she asked and being content to watch when she was in a zone. Despite all of the crude jokes that could be made about their webcam purchase, he had been right about one thing: it was definitely easier to give his opinion when he could see what she was doing.
"So," he began when a commercial break left them at a cliffhanger, "where might this fancy schmancy art school have fancy new Beesly flying off to? London? Paris? Tokyo?"
"Nah. Fancy schmancy art school is a little more local than that."
"What kind of local?"
"Philly local," she said with a smile.
Friday morning brought news of the Stamford shutdown, Josh's backstabbing move, and what should have been the light to start their weekend together: he was coming back to Scranton. But even as she called to say she was on her way and he tidied up his apartment for her impending arrival, there was still a strange, sinking feeling in his gut. His mind was arguing that he should be happy, but the weight was still dragging him down
"Dwight is so excited to see you on Tuesday," she giggled against his chest late that same night as she traced circles against his bare skin. "He even decorated your desk clump as a 'welcome back' surprise."
His lips and eyes contorted in disgust.
"Ugh, Beesly. Why would you even do that? Do not talk about Dwight when we're naked in bed. Instant mood killer."
She fluttered against his chest, pulling herself tighter against his blatant attempts to shove her away.
When the silence settled over his darkened room and his breath chilled the top of her head, she propped her chin against his chest and furrowed her eyebrows together.
"Hey. What's goin' on up there tonight? You're not all here."
Twice in the same minute, a heaving sigh escaped him. She was right. He hadn't been all there. Not when he'd scooped her into his arms upon her arrival. Not while they'd cooked together for the first time, despite her best efforts to be flirty and dab his nose with pasta sauce. Not when they'd clinked their wine glasses across a candlelit table. Not while, over dinner, they'd decided that he would pack a suitcase and stay with Pam for the time being while he looked for a place of his own in Scranton, because they weren't quite ready to move in together just yet. Not even moments ago, when he'd been buried within her, the God, I love you's that were groaned against her ear still absent of something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
He tightened his arms around her, honey curls pushing against his cheek.
"I just...I don't know, Pam. I don't...I don't know if I can do this."
It was all of her worst nightmares coming true.
He'd gotten a taste of who she really was outside of Dunder Mifflin and realized that it had all been in his head, a fluke of proximity popped when they had ventured outside the bubble.
She stiffened in the same moments that her head had snapped up, tears already welling in her green eyes, lips fixed to protest.
I'm sorry. Don't do this. My heart can't handle losing you again.
His brows wrinkled at her change in body language, but it only took him seconds to backtrack his words, sit up straight, and clutch her to his chest in a crushing embrace.
"Hey. Hey, oh my god, not what I meant, so not what I meant."
His hands engulfed the side of her face, bringing her nose tip to tip with his own as he tried to stop both of their bodies from shaking.
"This, this right here, is all I want. All I want, Pam," he dictated matter-of-factly, his thumbs rubbing circles along her cheeks. No sooner were those words past his lips than he was kissing her crushingly, brusingly hard, wishing that their momentary lapse into misguidance could be erased by the fervor in his lips.
When he pulled away, her eyebrows pinched upward, her lips swollen but trying to form some semblance of a relieved grin. The grip that she had fastened on his forearms wasn't loosening, but he paid no mind.
"You had me worried for a second there, Halpert. I saw my life flash before my eyes." Her words were breathy with nervous chuckles, coming down from the rapid switch from sadness to fear to panic to reassurance to kissing to love to Jim.
Still fearing her doubt, his fingers hooked underneath her chin, pulling her gaze to his line of sight.
"Hey." His words, though whispered, weighed heavily in her ears, on her heart, touched all the way down to her toes. "You never have to worry about this, okay? Out of all the...bullshit, happening in my life right now, this is what's keeping me grounded. You are what's keeping it all together. Got it?"
Though her head still spun, she trusted his words, his touch, the intensity in his eyes. When he punctuated each word of his, "I love you," she felt it in her core.
The silence absorbed them for quite some time, both craving the muted cocoon that was just breathing and being pressed against one another, gentle caresses reminding them that they were still awake.
"This is going to sound like a dumb question," she began, her fingers tickling lightly up and down his forearm, "like, a really dumb question…"
He waited, his own hand stalling at the top of her bare shoulder.
"I...we keep saying this. Jim. What is this? I mean, we kind of just, like, catapulted into...this, without really...talking about it?"
He nodded, her hair rubbing softly at his cheeks, before he turned her body in his arms so that they were eye to eye. She was biting her lip, avoiding his eyes, but he pulled her back to earth, back to him.
"Oh, this? This is it for me, Pam. What do you want out of this?"
It was so matter of fact. They were the only words he needed to say, the only ones that made sense, but he could see in her eyes that she needed him to press on, to elaborate if only for her benefit. He was about to make some big declaration, realizing that his life was an endless declaration of love for her, when she cut him off.
"What do I want?" She turned her head in thought for only a moment. "I want to see the way that you look like a deformed gremlin when you sleep."
"Huh?" was his only response, his expression contorting at the same moment that she was grinning and shifting on her back so that she could see him better.
"You said once that you look like a deformed gremlin when you sleep. I want to see that. Everyday, in fact." It was at that point, even as she continued, he realized that she was the one making the huge declaration, and he watched in amazement as her smile grew larger with each and every confession that left her lips.
"I want to not feel bad that I'm calling you at eleven o'clock on a Friday to come eat ice cream and watch Boy Meets World with me. I want to not have to kick you out at three AM when the weird cartoons come on. I want to eat French toast with you on Saturday mornings and tag along with you to the gym and watch you get all sweaty while you play basketball. I want to wear your last name on my t-shirt while I watch you coach our kids on the court. Woah, I might have gone a little too far-"
But she wasn't.
And he was smiling, and his thumbs were on her cheeks, and his lips were moving faster than her brain could comprehend.
"Good answer?" she giggled when he finally pulled away, his hands still cradling her face, their noses pressed together at the tip.
"Absolutely."
In the late night hours, with his body wrapped positively from tip to toe around her, she finally asked, "So, what were you talking about earlier? You can't do this? What this were you talking about?"
She felt his lungs push and pull against her as he sighed, his arms constricting around her body before he spoke.
"Dunder Mifflin. I don't think I can stay at Dunder Mifflin anymore."
She turned in his arms, resting her palm flat on his chest so that her eyes could give him the attention he deserved.
"I just...I'm not going anywhere. Sure, there's a promotion with this transfer, but what does that get me? More money? I'm still selling paper. I'm still overseeing the sale of paper. God, Pam the only reason I'm not going to absolutely dread going into work every day is because I'll get to look up and see you sitting five feet from my desk again. I just don't want to get ten, fifteen years down the road and realize that I could have been doing so much more than paper. Or, you know, at least enjoying myself."
She nodded, slowly absorbing his monologue as he poured the weight from his chest.
"And, like, not that I'm trying to say that I don't absolutely love working with you. I owe everything we have to this job. But, Pam, try to see where I'm coming from here. I-"
"I think you should do it."
His frown pressed her forward.
"Quit, Jim. Leave that god-forsaken place."
She was sitting upright now, pulling his sheet around her chest as she rested her back against the headboard.
"I mean, take a look at what's happening. For the first time in, I don't know, years, you have a choice in front of you. You get to decide what's going to make you happy. If you don't want to sit and sell paper for the rest of your life, then don't."
By this point, he had joined her upright, his eyes wide as she spoke with more passion and fervor than he'd ever heard in that small, timid voice. She had changed, for sure, in the time they had spent apart. But he was beginning to see that it was change for the better.
"Hell, look at what happened with us. We got our second chance. We made the choice to stop being miserable and just go after what we wanted. I think we finally realized that we get to choose our path going forward. Here's your chance, Jim. Choose Philly. Choose your happiness."
You are my happiness was the only thought that crossed his mind as her words danced around his head. Her happiness, he realized, was just as, if not more important. He knew that she didn't want to be a receptionist for the rest of her life. But now, life appeared to be wide open, and they were at the starting line. She could have her happy, too.
"Only if you come with me."
"What?"
"Hold on. Hear me out." It was his turn to be excited, and when he was excited, the animation couldn't hide from his expressions, which arched his eyebrows and pulled the corners of his lips crazy. "Pam, you said that design program is in Philly, right? Art school is in Philly, Jeff is in Philly. God, Pam, we could totally do this together. Kill the distance, and just finally be happy for once."
Truthfully, the ideas had been piecing together like a puzzle all week. Her program was in Philly, and so was a new business opportunity for Jim. His branch was closing, which effectively gave him the out that he hadn't had the guts to take himself over the years. But all the while, she was keeping those dreams to herself, the years of practiced Dreams are just that keeping her grounded.
It took only a moment to be reminded, as his fingers tickled her palm and squeezed her hand between his, that this was Jim. He was her dream.
"Come on, Pam. You get to choose happiness, too. What better way than to do it together?"
Her smile was shy, nervous, reserved for that impending letdown that she had to keep reminding herself wasn't actually coming.
He was reserved, too, saving himself from years of heartbreak and disappointment, so he waited, keeping her hand between his, and letting out a breath of relief when she began to tentatively scoot towards him on her knees. He squeezed more tightly then, pulling her gently as her smile found his and she whispered, "So, Philly?" in a voice that tailed with happy laughter.
"Philly, Beesly," he nodded, running his thumb down the side of her cheek
The logistics of picking up and starting over were a lot smoother than they had originally anticipated. The two weeks notice that they each instilled at Dunder Mifflin lined up nicely with Thanksgiving, and they both had enough saved up to stay with parents in Scranton for the holiday season.
"I feel like I'm back in college," she mused, laying on her back in his lap with her head on his chest and his long legs cradling her body. They were in her parent's basement watching TV, the Beesly's having long since gone to bed. "I remember having a ridiculous amount of time off for winter break, and then the real world hit me and I almost cried when we didn't get two months off at the end of the year."
"Wow, spoiled much?" he chuckled, tightening his arms around her.
"Only by you," she replied, turning her head around to meet his lips for a quick kiss.
She was slated to start at the Art Institute at semester in January; her community professor had recommended her to a connection up in Philly and her portfolio was sent straight to the top. She'd be living on campus for the time being, working the check in desk at night for extra cash. Jim had picked up a job at a local bike shop and would be moving in with Jeff after the new year, knowing that starting up a business was costly and financially straining. Why not split the cost of rent while they were still starting out?
Christmas was full of family and friends and undeniable love. Pam was introduced to the Halpert Christmas Eve tradition of matching pajamas (elf footies this year, and Tyler and Logan had insisted that she get a pair as well), and spent some quality time with Vanessa when the girls and boys were split up for the night. She shared a Barbie sleeping bag and painted nails and gossiped with Larisa long after the other Halpert women were asleep.
"God, my brothers looked like such dorks in those pajamas," Larisa had chuckled, rolling onto her side to face Pam in the darkness of her bedroom.
"Absolutely. But, I have to admit, it was kind of adorable to see them with the hats and the shoes next to your mom who is like, five-foot-nothing."
"It was, wasn't it?"
Snickers echoed in the darkness, both women trying their hardest not to wake the sleepers around them.
"Hey, Pam?"
"Mhm?"
"I really like having you here. And not just because you make my brother happier than I've ever seen him in my entire life. You just fit right in. It's like you're already one of us."
She wanted to cry, wanted to reach out and throw her arms around his baby sister who was already becoming a fast friend. Instead, she beamed into the darkness and realized that it wasn't because of Santa that she couldn't sleep that night, but because she couldn't wait to see Jim when they woke up in the morning.
After his family's festivities, Jim was more than thrilled to find that the Beesly clan spent their Christmas Day doing nothing but eating leftover Christmas cookies, watching Christmas movies, and napping the day away. When they were halfway through National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation ("It just isn't Christmas if we don't watch this movie!"), Pam was ironically asleep against the arm of the couch while Mrs. Beesly had commandeered Penny to help her set up the iPod that WIll had given her that morning. In the lull of Chevy Chase stapling Christmas lights to the roof, Will Beesly spoke, not moving his eyes from the television set.
"I love my daughters Jim. Love 'em with all my heart."
He coughed, sputtered, "Uh, yeah, absolutely, Mr. Beesly. I totally see that."
"So when I see one of them falling in love, I usually find myself with protests and reservations. We never really got Roy, so believe me when I say that Pam calling off that was a huge relief off my shoulders."
Jim wasn't sure where this conversation was going, and his nervous tics started twitching as his knee began to bounce erratically enough to not wake Pam and his hand started to steal to the back of his neck.
"Tell me why I don't feel that way about you, son."
The startled part of his brain wanted him to just say Huh? but somehow he was able to string the syllables of the word Pardon? together, taking the time to rest his hands back on his thighs and face the man who held his fate captive.
"I can't seem to find a bone in my body that doubts your intentions with my daughter. I'm just wondering why that is. I was hoping you could provide some insight."
"I...I really don't know what to say, Mr. Beesly. I've loved Pam for so long now, I just...loving her is only second to breathing because my brain needs the oxygen to survive." The subtle nervous chuckle that tailed his words curled the edges of the older man's lips just slightly as he reached for the remote.
"That's all I needed to hear."
While the movie droned on in the background, he reached softly to his left to wrap his fingers around her ankle, pulling her feet into his lap. He swore, as he looked down on her sleeping form, that he saw her lips curl up into a smile.
It was their first real Christmas together, but while they'd been surrounded by family and love for forty-eight hours, they felt deprived of time alone. Getting antsy, Jim had grabbed Pam's hand, his car keys, and taken off down the quiet, snow-dusted road. It was only an hour away, light Christmas music playing on the radio while they marveled at all of the Christmas lights, but it was him and it was her and it was wonderful.
They'd received several invitations to New Year's Eve parties. Mark was throwing a party at his old place, Larisa was going somewhere in Wilkes-Barre that she said they could tag along to, and even Michael had reached out, pleading almost, that they come to his condo for the evening.
He hadn't spared a second thought when she asked if he wanted to just stay in for the night.
Though surrounded by the boxes they had packed together for the rapidly approaching move to Philly, she still managed to set the ambiance with candles perched on countertops, a bottle of wine, and flannel pajama bottoms. They settled for a movie marathon that was poorly paid attention to between kisses and heavy petting, broken up only twice for attempted games of go fish. With ten minutes left to spare until the new year rang, he pulled her wordlessly to her feet, cradled her to his chest, and swayed softly around the dimly lit room.
"This year has been undeniably the best year of my life," he whispered into her hair. He felt the grip she had around his waist tighten.
"Even with all of the ups and downs, Pam, I wouldn't trade it for the world."
She turned her face against his body, her nose dragging along his chest as she sought his eyes.
"I am so in love with you, Jim Halpert. And I can't wait to see what 2007 has in store for us. I have a feeling that it's going to be amazing."
They were kissing before the ball had dropped, and continued long after Auld Lang Syne had finished playing.
Hauling two apartments across New England in the snow wasn't nearly as glamorous as it sounded. They spent the better part of four days with her dad's truck and his mom's minivan piling on the miles from Scranton to Philly to Stamford and back again. By the time her boxes were in the basement of the house he was sharing with Jeff-after only a few pleading moments from Jim that I don't wanna spend two weeks away from you-they were both thoroughly exhausted, sweaty, and hungry beyond belief.
Despite Jeff's best efforts to tell Jim This is your place, too, man, and Feel free to add to the decor, Jim and Pam found themselves trying their hardest to cram everything he owned into his bedroom, buried in a fort of boxes on his empty mattress with a cheap bottle of wine and an empty pizza box.
"So...this is Philly, huh?" she managed between bites of crust.
"Apparently," he replied, munching on his own slice.
"Doesn't seem much different than Scranton," she mused, resting her chin between her pointer finger and thumb as if she was pondering it heavily.
"Yeah? You think so?"
No sooner were the words off his lips than his arm was hooked around her waist, throwing her to her back on the mattress as he hovered over her.
"How 'bout now?"
His eyes, now dark with desire, hung centimeters from hers as his lips breathed against her own that were now parted.
"Hmm...you know, I think I've seen this view in Scranton before. Yup, definitely seen it."
With his lips on her throat just below her ear, he sucked lightly, his voice husky as he said, "Now?"
"I think I recall something similar."
Her words were becoming breathier as his large hands moved to her waist, pushing at the hem of her t-shirt to move it up and over her head.
"What about now?" Each word was punctuated with a kiss down her abdomen, his tongue hot on her skin as it met the waistband of her sweatpants.
"Might be a little different."
Her eyes were closed, her hair fanning against his bare mattress as his fingers tugged sweats and panties down simultaneously. She was already glistening.
When his lips met the corners of her thighs and his tongue began to trace up and down her slit, her fingers curled into tiny fists.
"Now?" His words were hot on her center, a chill darting through her.
"Now that you mention it, this might be brand new."
Finally, his lips closed around her, drawing in her clit with spectacular pressure while his tongue found new ways to make her writhe beneath him. When she was close, her fingers wound their way into his hair, her ankles on his shoulders, obscenities tumbling from her lips as she came against his mouth.
With a smug grin creeping its way through his lips, he crawled his way up her body, brushing his nose across her cheek a few times before wrapping his arms around her waist.
"So." His breath was husky and thick, warm in her ear. "Still think Philly is the same as Scranton?"
As her eyes finally fluttered open, she turned so that their noses were brushing lightly and wrapped a hand around his head to play with the hair around his ears.
"I'm starting to see the upside."
It was two weeks to the start of her first semester at a big time art school.
In those two weeks, as Jim and Jeff found a workplace and started a business mockup, they spent their time exploring. He took her to a Sixers game and bought her a beanie and a jersey. She took him to the art museum, musing at different pieces and smiling each time he gave her an opinion or asked a thoughtful question instead of glancing at his watch every five minutes and asking if they could go home already.
It was walk in the park in snow boots holding gloved hands, and finding new restaurants and grocery stores and movie theaters. It was figuring out the best routes from her campus to his place, and deciding what nights they would spend in the dorm and when they would be crash at his place, which was much easier to do when they were only twelve minutes across town.
On her last night before classes began, they sat together atop her twin bed with feet dangling off the edge, an episode of Conan playing on her old box TV.
"You ready to hit the books again, Beesly?" he asked, nudging her shoulder with his own as he pulled a forkful of Chinese food to his lips.
"Yeah. Yeah I think I am," she said with a smile, shifting her fork around her own box as she glanced up at him.
Spending the night on a twin-sized mattress was difficult with his height, but they made it work. He found it comical that they had to part ways to communal bathrooms to brush their teeth in the morning, but also out of place as literal teenagers shaved their peach fuzz beside him. Sure, he could've waited until he got home, but it was the thought that counted.
Her palms were sweaty against his own as he walked her to class, feeling incredibly proud as he realized what he was setting her out into the world to do. Her cheeks were rosy with color when they got to her building, and his hands rubbed up and down her arms as they stood just outside the door to her first class.
"Well, this is it, Beesly. First day of the rest of your life."
She bit her lip, ready for the nerves to kick in full force. But they never did. Because when she glanced up, his eyes were swimming with pride and joy and love.
His words said the same as he gave her a quick kiss, whispered I'm so proud of you; I love you into her ear while he hugged her tightly, and stood outside the door until she found a seat near the front. She wiggled her fingers and matched his half smile before watching him head towards the door right as her professor began to take roll.
She was able to concentrate on her schedule of classes because she knew that when she was done for the day, he would be waiting for her at his place. They would have dinner, and he would listen to every last word she had to say about the day, asking her questions and offering comments and being genuinely invested in what she had to say.
Because he was Jim.
And as her thoughts drifted momentarily to how she had ever spent a day without this wonderful, wonderful man, she realized that she was a far cry from ever being in that place again.
