Each Prayer Accepted A/N: So I don’t own any characters from The Office or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.  I should think that would be obvious.  Also, this takes place (except for the beginning, which WILL become obvious) following last weeks wedding episode, so spoilers up until that point.  Also minor spoilers for Eternal Sunshine. 

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned;

~Alexander Pope  

“Maybe I could pull the fire alarm.”  Jim suggested, leaning over her desk in his usual manner, his left hand carefully selecting a jellybean from the tiny dish that was always there, without fail. 

            Pam seemed to consider it, but then shook her head.  “No, too obvious…a fire two days in a row.  I think your best option would be bomb threat.”  It was the day after the fire, and Pam and Jim were both hoping for another change in the monotony of the office. 

            He widened his eyes in mock surprise.  “That’s pretty dark, Beesely.”

            “But convenient.  I could just give it to Michael on a Post-It and say someone called it in.” 

            Jim grinned.  “Good.  Then we can continue our game of Desert Island.”

            Pam’s eyes lit up.  “Yeah, and we never got to do Would You Rather!”

            “True.”  He grinned suddenly.  “Hey, you know how you completely screwed up your Desert Island list and forgot to mention your so-called ‘all time favorite’.”

            “And you wouldn’t let me change it?  Yeah, I remember.”

            “What is it?”  She gave him a blank look.  “Your all time favorite.”  He emphasized the time in an imitation of her protests yesterday during the game, and she grinned in response.

            “Oh.  Okay.  My all time favorite is Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”

            For a moment, Jim’s face was blank, but then lit with recognition.  “Oh, yeah.  That’s the Jim Carey, Kate Winslet one, right?”

            “Yeah.  You mean you’ve never seen it?”  He nodded, and she gasped.  “Wow.  That’s sad.  It’s so sad.”

            He laughed a little.  “Well I heard it was good…”

            “Good?  It’s awesome.  I’m disappointed in you, Halpert.”

            “Maybe I’ll check it out.”

            “You should.”

            “So…what movie would you knock off your top five to make room for it?”

            And soon the subject was forgotten as they were pulled into a debate between The Princess Bride and The Breakfast Club.

            Jim never actually got around to watching the movie.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

            A few days before Valentine’s Day, Pam came to the realization that she has no one to buy a card for…the first time in ten years.

            It’s not a sad realization, just odd.  She was so used to picking something out for Roy that several times, when she walked by a display of hearts and candy in a drug store, and had a sudden jolt as if she’d forgotten something.

            Of course, she could have been buying him something.  It was all up to her, not just with the wedding last summer, but more recently, just a week ago, after the wedding.

            He’d kissed her in the car, as soon as they’d pulled up at the apartment, the apartment that used to be theirs. And in that moment, the moment their lips met, she knew.  She knew it was wrong and not what she wanted.  And she’d pulled back, and said softly, “Roy.”

            The way she’d done it had been painfully reminiscent of that last time she’d broken a kiss and simply whispered a name.  The reason then, of course, had been greatly different.  Because that last time it happened, after Casino Night in the office, she hadn’t broken it because it wasn’t what she wanted.  She’d just gotten too scared.

            With Roy, it was different.  She’d just known, when she’d kissed him, something so familiar and yet almost felt wrong after the months since she’d been in that place.  She’d known.  And in spite of his protests and promises and eventual anger, she hadn’t backed down.

            A week had passed since the wedding, since the almost-mistake, and she was right back where she’d started.  Karen and Jim were together, weren’t hiding it anymore, and every moment in the office when the two of them so much as look at each other feels like she’s back at the wedding, watching them dance, overly aware of every pounding beat of her heart.

            Jim was barely speaking to her; she had no idea why, but it didn’t matter because after the incident following the disastrous bridal shower, when they’d been talking on Ben Franklin, she didn’t much want to talk to him either.

            Of course, a tiny part of her, the delusional, overly hopeful part, wondered if maybe, just maybe, he had heard from someone that she’d left with Roy, and maybe that was what was making him so angry.

            The thing was, though, the rest of her, the big part, the doubtful, eternally pessimistic part, refused to believe Jim could still feel that about her.  Not when he seemed so happy with Karen.

            Still, Valentine’s Day was approaching and she was thinking of the holiday in a way she hadn’t since she was in high school, when she’d been sick and tired of not being able to walk to class without seeing teddy bears and heart shaped boxes and roses. Tired of listening to her friends talk about what they’d been given or how long they’d been dating their boyfriends.  She’d been cynical about the amount of pink and red inevitably worn. 

It had been senior year when she’d started dating Roy, and it was the first year she had been one of Those Girls.  Well, not exactly, because she still didn’t wear pink (in her high school days, she had been a decidedly non-pink sort of person) or carry the bear and the rose around to every class.  Still, she hadn’t minded Valentine’s Day.  And that was a change.

The party planning committee was in full swing in the week before, planning the party.  Michael was trying to convince them to have an ‘old school’ Valentine’s Day party, where they would decorate boxes covered in lace hearts and set them on their desks, reminiscent of the third grade

Two days before the big day, they’d been moving some decorations into the break room when Karen had jokingly grabbed a long chain of hearts and looped it around Jim’s neck.  He’d grinned and looped the other end around Karen, pulling her down and giving her a quick kiss across his desk.

This sight would have been enough to make Pam stop breathing on any day, but somehow it was worsened by the heart chain and the stack of valentine plates she was holding in her hands as she watched…she always watched, even though she’d much rather have been able to move on and forget about it.

 This is a holiday invented by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap. 

One of the opening lines to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, the sentiment floated unexpectedly into her mind.  Thinking about the movies opening scene, the character’s voiceover that is so calmly anti-Valentine’s Day, made her feel a tiny bit better.

That night, when the image of Karen and Jim and the heart chain wouldn’t evaporate from her mind’s eye, she pulled the DVD from the shelf and halfway through watching it, she was remembering a conversation they’d had, the day after the fire, when she’d told him it was her favorite movie and told him to see it.  She was sure he didn’t, though, because he would have said something.  They made recommendations to each other often (back then), about songs or books or films…and they’d always told each other if they followed them.

Because the movie is about love, and is probably the truest love story she’d ever seen, she inevitably started thinking about him.  She’d watched it a lot when he was gone.  There were things she’d needed reminding of, and this movie had reminded her.

When the credits began to roll across the scene, she had a thought, He needed to see this movie…she needed him to.  She didn’t know why, but the fact was, she hardly ever got impulses this strong…she didn’t plan on wasting it.

So the next day at work, she kept the DVD at her desk, wondering just how strange and random it would seem when she gave it to him.  By 4:30, she was running out of excuses to put it off, because he always left with Karen and Pam didn’t want her there.  So when opportunity in the form of Michael (calling Karen to his office) presented itself, Pam didn’t let it pass for once in her life.

“Jim?”

He swiveled in the chair, looking extremely surprised that the silence between them had been broken.  She made a motion with her head for him to approach her desk, and when he did so there was a wariness in his eyes, and his voice was carefully neutral.  “What?”

She paused, then simply slid the DVD from its place next to her keyboard and placed it on the counter a few inches away from where his palms rested, more out of habit than any attempt to establish familiarity. 

Jim stared down at it, and Pam tapped it forward slightly, reminiscent of the time she’d sold him the soda can that had ended an unusually lengthy game of jinx.

He finally took it, staring at the cover, then shooting her a questioning look.

“I mentioned it to you once.”   She waited, maybe for some indication that he knew what she was talking about, but he stayed silent.  “And I just…I want you to watch it.  Please.”

There was a silence then he looked at her, and the look in his eyes was one she’d never seen there before, a bitterness that seemed out of place on Jim’s face.  “Okay, yeah.  Maybe I’ll watch it with Karen.”

The words were delivered with a stinging, spiteful tone that felt like an icy slap across Pam’s face.  She sat stock still for a moment, completely taken aback, because the words were clearly intended to hurt her, and none of this was Jim.

Finally she found her voice, as well as her own spitefulness.  “Really?  Because I thought she’d kind of prefer Bridget Jones.”

            Instantly, the smirk evaporated from his eyes.  The Christmas present, the inside joke…he hadn’t thought she’d noticed.

            They stood for a few more moments, staring at each other, almost glaring but not quite as obvious as a glare.  Finally, his face relaxed into casualness, and he said, “Okay, I’ll…I’ll check it out.”

            Pam nodded wordlessly; she didn’t feel like talking to him anymore, and it took a good bit of willpower to keep from snatching the DVD back and storming off.

            She watched him leave with Karen at the end of the day, as always, but today he shot her an almost confused glance before leaving.

*   *   *   *   *

            Feigning a headache, Jim was able to get out of plans with Karen for the evening.  Ever since Pam had put the DVD on the desk, he’d been curious.  His feelings about what he’d seen at the wedding, her leaving with Roy, had not been forgotten…he’d proven that much with the Karen comment.

            The truth was, though, was that there had never been a moment when he’d even considered letting Karen view it with him.  Why now, after a week of silence, why she would give him this movie and ask him to watch it…he wasn’t sure, but there had to be a reason.

            Or, he thought disgustedly, she was just recommending a film that she happened to like.  Maybe he was reading too much into it, misinterpreting, but he just knew that he was going to watch as soon as he got home.

            The movie began, and he was a little surprised.  Part of him had expected the characters to be them, but Joel and Clementine weren’t at all.

            Within thirty minutes, he’d almost forgotten why he was watching it, and had become completely lost in the story about two polar opposites who’d dated for two years and broken up.  The girl, Clementine, who was spontaneous and free spirited, had gotten Joel, shy and awkward, erased from her memory.  When Joel finds out, he goes to the company and asks for the same procedure.

            The majority of the movie followed the process of Joel’s memory, as he moves backward through his relationship and realizes, ultimately, why he loved Clementine, and decides that he doesn’t want the procedure done…that even the memory of being in love is better than never loving the person at all.

            By the end of the movie, Jim was sitting, completely awe struck.  He loved movies like this, movies that just froze him with the truth and depth they offered.

            And this was one of the most honest, pure love stories he’d ever seen.  Every thing about it was painfully true…love wasn’t always great.  A lot of times, it was shitty.  But the truth was, love in any way was better than hollow, dead neutrality. 

            As much as Pam had hurt him…he wouldn’t trade it.

            With this realization, he was suddenly reminded that she had given him this movie.  She’d told him to watch it.  It was her favorite.

            His mind spinning, he ejected the DVD, put it back in the case, and went to his car.

            Misinterpretation was not an option now.  His head was telling him to ignore his impulses, his gut reaction…because they hadn’t served him well in the past.  But it was what guided him now.

*   *   *   *   *

            Pam opened her door after the incessant knocking and found him standing there.  After a moment of silence, she said uncertainly, “Hi.”  There was a wall between them, as far as she knew…the conversation from the afternoon was fresh in her mind; it had been brief, but it was like nothing they’d ever said to each other before.

            Jim, however, didn’t seem aware of any walls.  He held up the DVD.  “I need you to explain this.”

            “Um…”  She looked at him.  “Okay.  She had him erased from her memory, and then he-“

            “No.  I watched the movie, Pam, I get the plot.  I need you to explain why you gave it to me.”

            She held his gaze for only another brief moment before looking down at her hands, slowly lacing and unlacing her fingers.  “I told you last year after the fire last year that it was my favorite movie.  This summer, right after you left but before I called off the wedding…had to have been within two weeks, I watched it again for the first time in forever.  It was kind of a comfort thing.”  He wanted to ask why she’d needed comfort, but he kept his mouth shut.  “And…I just started crying.  At a part in the movie that had never struck me as anything before.”

            “What?”

            She drew a breath and glanced at him, almost embarrassed.  “You know the part in the house, the memory where they first met, and they’re talking about how he ran out?”  Jim nods slowly.  It was one of the most significant scenes.  “Well there’s a line she says…she just tells him, ‘I wish you’d stayed’.”  She finally makes her eyes stay even with his, and she smiles sadly.  “And…it’s so stupid, but all I could think about was if I’d just been able to tell you that, if I’d called you right after I found out you’d transferred, just told you the truth…”  There it was again, an opportunity to question her, but he couldn’t form the words.  “Maybe it would have been different.  Because you remember what he said?”

            Jim nodded, the entire film still fresh in his mind.  “‘He said…I wish I’d stayed, now I wish I’d stayed.  I wish…”  He paused, then finished.  “I wish I’d done a lot of things’.”

            Pam nodded ever so slightly, and maybe it was Jim’s imagination, but her eyes seemed to be shining with tears.  “And then later she said...she told him to come back and make up a goodbye at least.  Pretend they had one.”  A single tear slips from her right eye and down her cheek.  “And that’s when I just lost it.  You didn’t tell me anything Jim, you didn’t even…you didn’t say goodbye, didn’t even tell me you were leaving…”

            His throat was tight, and he remembered the guilt he’d felt when he hadn’t told her, hadn’t given any opportunity for anyone else to tell her.  Then he’d felt disgusted with the guilt…his ego had repeated over and over that he owed her nothing, no goodbye, no warning…but he’d known that wasn’t true, because no matter what she’d felt, she’d been his best friend. 

            But how had she felt?  More importantly, how did she feel now?  Because there were those phrases he wanted to question, phrases about telling him ‘the truth’ and needing comfort…phrases that suggested something that he almost couldn’t let himself believe, something he could easily be misinterpreting. 

            He had a feeling, though, that he hadn’t just been given this movie because of a few significant lines in one scene.  There had to be more.

            Jim allowed himself to move a little closer to her.  “Was that…what else, Pam?  I mean…why else did you want me to watch it?”

            She squeezed her eyes shut, words to eloquently explain the message she’d wanted to get across failing her.  “I…because I watched it a lot.  After you left, and since you came back.  Because I need to remember that a lot.”  His eyes are like headlights, shining into hers, exposing her.  “Sometimes what happened, and what’s happening, makes me feel like that…like it hurts so much I’d give everything up.  You…everything that happen.  Almost makes me wish I’d never gotten a job at Dunder Mifflin and met you.”  The words hit Jim with a surprisingly painful stab, but he stays silent.  “And sometimes I just need reminding that…you’re worth it.  And what I feel right now…it’s not something I’d want to just erase.”  Her voice cracked on the last sentence and she looks down.

            Jim had to voice a question now, just had to.  He placed the index and middle finger of his right hand under her chin and gently lifted her face to look at him.  His voice was quiet, an urgent whisper, “What do you feel right now, Pam?”

            The words were easier for her to say then she thought they’d be; actually, she doubted she’d have been able to keep them from coming out.  “I love you, Jim.”  He froze; no change of expression, no reaction, nothing.  Clarifying, she added, “I’m in love with you.” 

Taking his frozen expression as a bad sign, she rushed on, “I know I’m doing this at a horrible time…you’re with Karen, and you’re happy, and the way I hurt you I don’t deserve another chance here.”  She was crying now, soft sobs that she desperately tried to control.  “But, damn it, Jim, I’ve tried!  I’ve tried to keep quiet and let you be happy, I’ve made friends with her, I’ve even helped you with your fucking relationship issues.  But I can’t anymore, it’s too hard…I’m so sorry about everything, but I-“

            “Shut up.”  He said suddenly, but the words weren't hostile at all; almost gentle, his voice still soft.  “Just…say it again.  The first thing.”

            It took her a second to realize what he meant.  “I’m in love with you.  I always was, I was just too stupid or scared to let myself notice…I’m the one who misinterpreted, I…”  Here she was, rambling again.  “I love you.”

            He didn’t waste another moment in leaning forward and wrapping his arms around her and covering her mouth with hers.  The kiss, their third kiss, lasted a long time, longer than the drunken kiss the night of the Dundies, and even longer than on Casino Night.  The truth was, they’d needed to be here in the months that had passed, and now neither wanted to come up for air, didn’t need to.

            When they finally broke apart, he pulled her to him and just held her, because he could.  He stroked her hair and felt her tears soaking through his T-shirt, tears he hoped were happy ones, and was amazed.  This was a moment he’d imagined countless times in his mind, and it isn’t often in life when things actually exceed your expectations.

            He didn’t care that tomorrow was Valentine’s Day and he would be presented with the dilemma of breaking up with Karen ON Valentine’s Day or spending it with her as a complete farce.  He didn’t care.  Because right now, he was where he wanted to be.  And it was better than he’d imagined.

*   *   *   *   *

            Every Valentine’s Day, Jim and Pam had a tradition.  The holiday was never exactly the same…some years there were romantic dinners at the apartment, others romantic dinners out, sometimes there were weekends getaways…yet there was one tradition, one they upheld every year.  There was a certain movie, one they always watched.  Without fail.