"Jim, can I see you in my office for a very important…work related…uh… conference?"

The intercom on my desk chirped. Sitting forward at my desk, I thought about the request for a minute. On one hand, Michael had used the phrases "important" and "work related". This meant that whatever he had in mind was in no way important or work related.

On the other hand… my eyes flicked from my computer screen to where Pam usually sat. On the other hand, Pam wasn't here, and I really didn't feel like working.

"Sure thing, Michael." I walked out of my office and across the main room, preparing myself. Before I was half-way through the door, Michael was shutting it and ushering me towards a seat.

"Um… Michael? What's up?" He perched on top of his desk.

"OK, Jim, just… just imagine this for a second. This girl that you know…that you've had…relations with… Okay, just…" he squinted his eyes closed and my eyes flicked over to the camera. There's no way to not be amused at Michael when he's like this.

"OK!" he snapped his fingers, finally finding his train of thought. "Okay, so this girl that you know asks you out, let's just keep it simple. This girl asks you out. What do you say?"

"I say no." He frowned at me.

"How…How did you come to that? What makes you-"

"Well, Michael, I'm married, so I don't date people other than my wife." He let out an exasperated sigh.

"Ok, well you're not married. What do you say?" I cocked my head to the side, trying to remember what it was like not to be married to the love of my life.

"Well where's Pam?" His hands flew up in frustration.

"Ok, Jim, Pam doesn't exist. She's… Well she just doesn't exist."

"Well then I wouldn't be working here." There was a second of silence.

"Wait, are you saying that the only… ok, never mind. Pam doesn't exist but your life is exactly the same as now. Just imagine your life without Pam. This girl asks you out that is really great, and maybe perfect for you, but she's been with this other guy…." He trailed off and looked at me.

I frowned. "Is this a trick question?" Michael sputtered at me.

"Ok fine, you're no help. Just…Just go. It's fine." I raised my eyebrows at the camera as I left, but couldn't help flicking my eyes to the clock. Five. I gathered my things with a sigh and walked down to my car.

On the drive home, I tried to think about my conversation with Michael. The camera crew would probably think that I was messing with him as usual, but I had been sincere.

"Is this a trick question?" Because there's no way that my life would be the same without Pam. I parked in front of the garage and let myself into our house. I paused at the doorway, taking off my coat and taking in the little hallway. Somehow, Pam had managed to take my childhood house and turn it into our home.

Her touches were everywhere, from the neutral paint to the bright accents to the artsy, estate sale pieces she loved. I didn't stop long, though, because my feet were moving forward. It had been over eight hours since I'd seen her, and that was just too long. I paused in the doorway of the kitchen, taking in the sight in front of me.

"Uh…Pam?" her head snapped up from the cookbook she was reading.

"Hey! How was work?" I laughed at her.

"Good. Um, hey, if you didn't like the kitchen, you could have told me. You didn't have to destroy it like this. I know a good contractor…" I trailed off as she smirked at me.

"Shut up. I was really, really bored and hungry. Maternity leave sucks." I walked in, leaning down to give her a kiss and rub a hand over her stomach.

"I think it'll get better when the baby's actually born." I replied, looking down at her.

"Really? You think?"

"Yeah. Don't take it to the bank though, it's just a guess." She smiled back at me. "So what have you been working on?" I asked, turning the cookbook around so I could see the title.

"Well I was thinking about all of the cravings I've been having? And you know how sometimes really fancy places put weird stuff together, like apricot and duck? Or chocolate and chili?" Her head whipped around to me suddenly.

"Yes, we can." I replied, nodding my head. She tilted her head back and furrowed her brow.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask."

"Ok, I'm sorry. I need to work on that. Um…Yes, we can go to that place with the duck and apricot quesadillas." She smiled.

"Thank you. Anyways, I was thinking that I could look in some cook books and find something that had multiples of stuff I was craving, like crab and peanut butter, or something."

"Did you actually find a recipe with crab and peanut butter? Because if you did we need to throw that one out. Like immediately."

"Well that's the thing, I couldn't find anything that I wanted, so I decided to just go off book, which brings us to…" she turned around, gesturing to the huge mess behind her. I paused taking it all in before turning back to her.

"So did you actually make anything?" Her face broke into a huge smile and I suddenly remembered Michael's scenario. I smiled as she motioned to two plates and a bowl on the island. There's no way I could live without this.

"Ok, our first dish is a chicken tender salad with macaroni and cheese underneath, topped with balsamic vinaigrette." She offered me a fork and I hesitated. "C'mon! I've been working on it all day." She wiggled the fork at me. I sighed, having to, once again, face the fact that I cannot say no to this woman.

I took a bite and tried not to gag, but I forced the concoction down.

"Wow. Well, it's not your best, but there's time to improve it."

"Yeah, I didn't like that one as much as I thought I would. It's kind of disgusting, actually. Which brings us to the next dish. We didn't have any crab, so I made do with fish sticks. They're topped with a barbeque glaze and fresh cilantro."

I sighed and took another bite, again making myself swallow it. I made a face and she nodded vigorously.

"I know! But I think without the fish taste, the barbeque and cilantro really works, so I'll be exploring that tomorrow. But the next dish is definitely the best."

"Well it's hard to get worse than the last two." She smiled at me, but bounced a bit on her heels. She was excited about this one.

"Ok, this is raspberry ice cream mixed with peanut butter, blueberries, captain crunch, and topped with whipped cream and pistachios." This time she held out a spoon and I eyed the brownish stuff in the bowl warily. "Jim! Just trust me." She nodded again. I gave in again.

But after my first bite, I frowned and went for a second.

"Pam, this is really good!" she grinned.

"I know! Because the whipped cream cuts the tart of the blueberries and the cereal adds a really nice crunch." Now we both had spoons and the bowl was slowly emptying. When we were finally done, I tossed my spoon in the sink and followed her to the living room.

"You need to think of a name for that." I said as we both sat down on the couch. Well, I sat, she kind of plopped in backwards. She rubbed her belly thoughtfully, leaning back.

"I know. I was thinking about calling it 'Dwight Salad' because he seems to love it so much." She tapped her stomach and I shook my head. When we found out the baby was a boy, we immediately launched into looking for a name, but until we found one, we'd temporarily settled on Dwight.

"Sounds perfect." I muttered, taking her in. She was so pretty, her hair reflecting the light from the window, practically glowing, and covered in pistachio bits and fish stick crumbs.

"So Michael asked me what it would be like if you didn't exist, today." It was out before I could stop myself, but I felt that I had to tell her some of what I was feeling. She looked at me.

"Well you would have way less fun in bed." I laughed.

"Yeah. That's true." I smiled at her, but she was starting to frown. She cocked her head at me.

"What would your life be like if I didn't exist?" I grimaced and shook my head.

"You know, I've been thinking about it. For one I would definitely not be in Scranton anymore. I also wouldn't be working for Dunder-Miflan. I think I'd probably be somewhere like New York with a better job and a nicer car." I chuckled and looked back down at her. "Also, I'd probably be married and have a way less awesome wife, who would never have discovered Dwight Salad."

She nodded seriously, but before she could talk a sat up, taking her hands in mine.

"But the weird thing is that he asked me to imagine my life without you, and the only think I could think was that it was a trick question, because…you are my life. I don't have a life without you."

"Jim, I love you." I leaned down to kiss her, feeling the familiar warmth wash over me. I pulled away and sighed, leaning my forehead against hers.

I closed my eyes.

"Wow, that was really cheesy, wasn't-"

"Oh, my gosh, so cheesy." She chuckled, tilting her head up to kiss me again. "But I really like cheesy."

"Mmm." I hummed in agreement, and we sat like that, so close for a few minutes.

"Do you know what else is cheesy?" she asked hopefully. I sighed, hearing her stomach grumble.

"Apricot duck quesadillas?" I asked back, already knowing the answer. She smiled and kissed me one more time. I got up to get our coats as she pushed and pulled herself off the couch. As she turned so she could put her arms through her coat sleeves, she looked at the kitchen wistfully. She turned back to me while I opened the front door for her.

"So you really didn't like the fish sticks?" she asked. Pointed at her accusingly.

"Now that, I know, is a trick question." I heard her laughing all the way to the car.

Yeah,I thought as I turned back to lock the front door, there's no way I'm living without that.