Pam takes a deep breath and tightens her grip on the suitcase handle as a white van with the words “Vance Refrigeration” splayed across the side in blue paint putters up to the curb. She hadn’t really known what to pack, considering that Michael had given them a whole day’s notice.

 

“Let me get that for you,” Bob Vance smiles and picks up her bag before she can protest.

 

The inside of the van smells like mildew and old gym socks and her shoulders are pressed uncomfortably between Stanley (who has already pulled out his crossword puzzle) and Ryan (who is listening to his iPod a little too loudly for her tastes).

 

As if she doesn’t already feel like she’s trapped in the fifth circle of hell, Jim and Karen are occupying the bench in front of her along with an overly-caffeinated Michael, who keeps asking her if she wants one of the Red Bulls in his backpack. It was only a handful of days ago that she was pulling Roy off of Jim in front of the entire office, and now here she is, crammed in a muggy van with the last people she wants to spend additional time with in the world.

 

There isn’t even a real reason for her to be there in the first place, considering that she isn’t exactly part of the sales “dream team.” A few days after the whole debacle with Roy, Jan had called the entire sales staff (and herself) into the conference room. Jim hadn’t even looked at her once with his one good eye. Although the bruise was finally beginning to fade, it still hurt for her to look at.

 

“I am pleased to announce that since the merger, this branch has become the highest-selling branch of those that I oversee,” Jan said to them. Michael was literally sitting on his hands to contain his excitement. “And Michael would like to… talk to you about… something.”

 

Pam glanced up again at Jim’s fading bruise and attempted to settle the knot in her stomach. Somehow the dark skin surrounding it made his eyes seem that much greener. It was a hard thing not to notice.

 

“Thank you, Mizz Levinson,” Michael winked at her. “Well, because of the great job my dream team has been doing these past couple of months, I have decided to treat you all to…”

 

Jan shot him a hard look.

 

“I—I mean, corporate has decided to send you all on a cruise for a three-day weekend… on us!” Michael held his hands out like he was presenting an award.

 

“Yes!” Dwight clapped his hands.

 

“A cruise? From where?” Karen asked.

 

“Well, as you may have realized by now, Karen… I know you’re new to the area, but Pennsylvania is a land-locked state,” Michael said to her as though he was speaking to a grade school kid. “So we’ll be leaving from Bayonne.”

 

“Bayonne as in, New Jersey?” Ryan asked.

 

“Yes, Ryan, Jersey,” Michael said sharply, still having not gotten over their falling out.

 

“So, just the sales staff is going?” Phyllis asked.

 

“Bingo!” Michael pointed at her. “To reward your efforts. Corporate wanted to give you guys money, but this is just so much more personal don’t you think?”

 

“Wait, we were going to get bonuses?” Stanley spoke up.

 

“Yes, but this is so much better, Stanley. This way we’ll get to spend some good quality time together in the lap of luxury!”

 

“This is so much better,” Dwight nodded in agreement.

 

“Is there any way that I can trade my ticket for a bonus instead?” Stanley asked immediately.

 

“No, no, no,” Michael shook his head. “You’re all going, and your spouses are invited. Any more questions?”

 

Jim raised his hand and Michael pointed to him.

 

“Why is Pam here?”

 

Her mouth fell open a little at the coldness in his tone. He still refused to look in her direction.

 

“Ah, our little receptionist will be accompanying us on this venture because I think, well, I need her as my assistant,” Michael said quickly. He was a terrible liar and she knew that he was actually concerned about leaving her behind after Roy’s outburst. He and Dwight had been calling her every night since, offering to “protect her,” which was sweet in a sense, but humiliating all the same.

 

She could feel her face getting hot and she chose to stare at the table instead.

 

“Also,” Jan added, watching her closely. “The camera crew will not be coming with us. In light of some recent incidents they’ve agreed to sit this one out.”

 

“But, you forgot the best part, Jan,” Michael giggled. “They are letting me bring my own camcorder to get footage for them. I’m totally going to be the next Marty Scorsese!”

 

“Fantastic,” Stanley groaned.

 

“So everybody pack your finest because we are leaving bright and early tomorrow morning, and I expect all of you here at 5 am.”

 

It is still dark outside and Pam is thankful for it because it allows her to at least pretend that Karen isn’t sleeping on Jim’s shoulder. The hours before the trip were spent preparing herself for a weekend of sheer torture and watching how close they had become over the past few months. She wishes she had the window seat so that she would have something to rest her head against, even if it is cold and uncomfortable.

 

“Have you ever been anywhere all-inclusive? It’s the best, I bet the ship is totally all-inclusive, I mean, it’d have to be, am I right? Where else are you going to go? The ocean??” Michael laughs at his own continuous stream of chatter.

 

Phyllis is able to deflect his excitement a little by describing where she and Bob Vance had honeymooned. She tries to involve Stanley and Terry in the conversation, but he isn’t paying attention and she has already drifted to sleep on the other side of him.

 

“Want a break?” Ryan’s voice startles her a little.

 

“Huh?”

 

He extends one of his earbuds to her. “From Michael, I mean. You want a break?”

 

“Oh, yeah, thanks,” she says, slipping the speaker into her ear, letting the music wash over Michael’s babbling voice.

 

It isn’t that she doesn’t like Ryan (okay, well, she sort of doesn’t), it’s just that they haven’t really interacted much. At least, not without a Kelly buffer.

 

“What are we listening to?” she asks, realizing that she has never heard this before. It has been a long time since Jim has introduced her to a new band and she now feels rather out of style.

 

“Oh, this right now is Arcade Fire, but this is just a kind of mellow playlist. I thought it’d be a nice contrast to…” he lowers his voice and points to Michael. “..that.”

 

Pam holds a hand over her mouth to cover her laugh. She can see that Jim’s head is turned ever-so-slightly to the side, like he is trying to listen to their conversation.

 

“Thanks Ryan,” she says a little louder and Jim’s head turns to look out the window instead.

 

The van feels a lot warmer than she remembers, but it is mostly likely due to the sun that is now streaming in from the window and dancing across her face. She blinks her eyes open, wondering what time it is and what time exactly she had drifted to sleep.

 

As her eyes adjust to being open again she meets Jim’s for a few fleeting moments before he turns to face forward. It is probably the first time he has looked directly at her since a few days ago, but it hurts because she knows that it is only because he had thought she was asleep.

 

It takes her a moment to realize that her ear hurts because she still has the earbud in and her head is pressed against Ryan’s shoulder. She sits up quickly, her cheeks flush with embarrassment and that side of her face suddenly chilly without the heat of another person against it. Ryan stirs a little, his head still resting against the window.

 

The back of Jim’s neck tells her that he is angry, and he doesn’t turn around again for the rest of the trip.

After two wrong turns (each taking them over an hour out of the way) due to Michael’s poorly MapQuested directions, they arrive at their destination in New Jersey.

 

In her fantasies, Pam had imagined her first cruise to feel like stepping onto the deck of the Titanic, or some other grandiose adventure, but now that she stands on the dock it seems more like Lake Wallenpaupack Redux.

 

The ship is about half the size of those big ocean liners she has seen in the commercials and looks to be about twice as old.

 

“Check this out!” Michael stares in awe of his accomplishment, letting his hand-held camcorder roam the length of the ship.

 

“Are you going to tell us where this ship is going?” Stanley asks dryly.

 

“Oh right, yeah, we’re going to Baltimore,” Michael answers without taking his eyes off of the ship.

 

“Baltimore? As in, Maryland?” Karen asks.

 

“Yes! Baltimore is in Maryland. You’re really doing great with this new area of the country, Karen,” Michael answers proudly.

 

“Fantastic,” Jim sighs as Jan’s car pulls into the parking lot.

 

Ryan is standing a few feet away from the group, talking into his cell phone.

 

“Yeah, no, they said our cell phones won’t work on the ship. Nope. No, no phone lines. Yes, I’ll call as soon as we get there. Yep. Okay. Alright. Yes, Kelly, for God’s sake. Okay, seriously, I have to go. Yes, I know. Fine, bye. I said bye. Kelly? Seriously, stop. Okay I’m hanging up. Bye. Yes I’ll call you. Sunday. Yes I get it. Okay, bye, for real. Kelly. Okay, I’ve got to go. Yeah, talk to you soon, bye.”

 

He clicked his phone shut abruptly, running a hand through his hair.

 

“Our cell phones won’t work on the ship?” she asks when he rejoins them.

 

“I have no idea,” he sighs wearily and clicks the power button on his phone.

 

As the group makes their way onto the ship, Pam can’t help but wish that she hadn’t come along. She watches Jim carry both his and Karen’s bags without having to be asked and something in her stomach twists.

 

Fortunately, she is at least given her own room (although the room is about the size of a matchbox) that is flanked by Bob Vance and Phyllis’s as well as Stanley and Terry’s. She is grateful that Michael and Jim are well down the hall.

 

It only takes her about two minutes to unpack her things and she still has a few hours until dinner so she grabs her sketchpad and finds her way onto the pool deck, watching as land fades into ocean.

 

“Why do I have a feeling that this is going to be the most boring weekend ever?” Ryan sighs, taking up the lounge chair next to her.

 

“Probably because it will be,” she answers. “Although, with Michael…”

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he laughs. “I guess I should be hoping for boring, huh? It’s better than the alternative.”

 

“Totally,” she smiles. “At least it’s warm.”

 

“Agreed,” he yawns, stretching his arms above his head.

 

“So… no offense, but why are you being so…” Not an asshole? Approachable? Less of a stick in the mud? “..nice?”

 

“Am I usually not nice?” he asks.

 

“Well,” She considers lying because she probably should. “Yes, actually.”

 

“Oh,” he says softly and she worries that maybe the truth hurt his feelings. “I guess its just that being in that office does weird things to me.”

 

“Well, I can accept that I guess,” she smiles at him and he seems relieved.

 

“Hey guys,” Karen says cheerily. She has warmed up to Pam considerably ever since Jim had stopped acknowledging her existence. “Is it just me, or is there hardly anyone on this cruise?”

 

“It’s not just you, I’ve only seen a handful of people so far,” Pam says.

 

“Yeah, well, I can’t see why it’s not packed,” Ryan says facetiously. “I mean, it’s April and we’re traveling from New Jersey to exotic Baltimore.”

 

Pam giggles as Jim walks up beside Karen. “Yeah, who wouldn’t want to take a dip in the Baltimore Harbor?”

 

“I hear you have to get about nine shots if you fall into that water,” Ryan laughs. “Seriously, it’s going to be paradise.”

 

“You guys want to join us for a swim?” Karen asks as Jim stands silently next to her.

 

“Isn’t it a little… cold?” Pam asks.

 

“We thought we’d give it a try,” Karen shrugs. “There’s always the hot tub.”

 

Without warning an ear-splitting cry cuts through the air.

 

“CANNONBAAAAAALLL!!!!”

 

Michael leaps into the pool, his extremities tucked tightly against his body. Jan stands on the pool deck, ducking from the spray of water.

 

“Holy crap!” Michael cries out once he surfaces. “It’s f-freezing in here! Jan, jump in! Polar bear swim!”

 

“Well I guess that answers that question,” Ryan laughs, watching Michael attempt to swim breaststroke from one end of the pool to the other. The result looks more like a drowning frog than anything else.

 

“Hot tub?” Karen offers and she and Jim head off in that direction.

 

“I’m game if you are,” Ryan says to Pam, shrugging.

 

“Um, I don’t know…” she stammers, letting her eyes linger as Karen peels off her outer shell of clothing, revealing what looks to Pam to be a perfectly sculpted body clad in a black stringy bikini.

 

“Come on,” Ryan stands and extends his hand to her. “The way I see it we should stick together this weekend to avoid going insane.”

 

She laughs and takes his hand as he helps her to her feet. “Alright, I guess when you put it that way…”

 

Pam tries pretending that Jim’s eyes aren’t on her as she pulls her t-shirt ever-so-clumsily over her head. She has never felt so exposed in her life. Fortunately, she isn’t the only one undressing and it becomes easier to focus on Ryan than on her own embarrassment.

 

Considering his small frame, she is a little surprised at how broad Ryan’s shoulders actually are. He also has much less chest hair than Jim (not that she had been looking), just a smattering of black hair that forms a trail down his abdomen.

 

Pam snaps back into focus before she lets her eyes wander any further downward. Luckily the distraction has kept her busy long enough that she has shed all of her excess clothing and can now dip into the steaming water in front of her.

 

“I love your bathing suit,” Karen tells her as she settles into the water.

 

“Oh, thanks, I really like yours too,” she answers, because she really does. Hers is a two-piece as well, but she could never be quite brave enough to go for the ones that are basically just two triangles and a whole lot of string.

 

“Okay, okay, who likes Piña Coladas?” Michael bounds over to them, toting an armful of plastic glasses complete with colorful, curling straws. “And getting caught in the rain?”

 

He hands out the drinks and slides into the water, splashing Pam in the process and wincing at the heat. Michael beckons for Jan to join him, but she declines, spreading out her towel on a lounge chair to bask in the waning sun.

 

She wishes that she were sitting beside Jan and not this close to Michael, who looks like he has a bear rug stitched onto his chest (something she really didn’t need to know, ever). Pam scoots closer to Ryan as Michael stretches his arms and legs out (“We’re here to relax, people!”) and ends up practically pressed against his side.

 

“So, how much did Kelly freak out about you going on this trip without her?” Jim asks Ryan, as if to remind him about his girlfriend.

 

“Oh, yeah, she pretty much kept me up all last night complaining about it. It’s actually a good thing for me that we got hardly any notice or I might not have slept for a week,” he sighs, leaning his head back against the pool deck.

 

“Hey Michael, why does it seem like there is no one on this cruise?” Pam tries to change the subject.

 

“Well, actually, this cruise doesn’t just sail to Baltimore,” Michael begins.

 

“Shocking,” Ryan says.

 

“Actually, Baltimore is like the first stop and the actual cruise goes from there to the Caribbean. Plus,” he lowers his voice and leans towards Pam, causing her to recoil and press even more into Ryan. “This cruise line has had some bad press lately… a few too many…” Michael runs his finger across his throat, making a gagging sound. “A lot of… disappearances.”

 

“Oh great,” Pam sighs. “I’m so glad that I have my own room all by myself then.”

 

“Do you want me to put Dwight in your room for protection?” Michael offers earnestly.

 

“No, no, that’s really okay,” she answers quickly as Ryan stifles a laugh beside her.

 

“Where is Dwight anyway?” Jim speaks up as he slides his arm around Karen.

 

“I don’t know,” Michael shrugs. “I saw him check in. He wanted to take his own car for some stupid reason.”

 

“Maybe he brought someone,” Pam grins impishly. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Ryan snap his head towards her. She meets his narrowed eyes that seems to be asking her something and it dawns on her that maybe Dwight’s office secret isn’t so secret after all.

 

“Oh please,” Michael guffaws. “Dwight? He totally has to pay for sex. He’s not getting it on the regular like me.”

 

“On the regular?” Karen chuckles.

 

“Yeah, haven’t you ever listened to a Justin Timberlake song? Seriously, what do they listen to up in Connecticut anyway?”

 

“Mostly show tunes,” Pam nods gravely. “And, you know, soft rock.”

 

“Yeah, we’re a couple years behind up there,” Karen shrugs, playing along. “I’ve never even heard of that Timber guy.”

 

“Yeah, Paul Anka is basically the Justin Timberlake of Connecticut,” Ryan adds as Karen and Pam hide their smiles with their drinks.

 

“Ugh, Paul Anka? Yuck,” Michael says, finishing off his beverage. “Alright, refill time.”

 

Pam finally releases her laughter once Michael is at a safe distance, triggering Karen and Ryan to do the same.

 

“What’s with you?” Karen asks Jim, who doesn’t seem quite so amused.

 

“Nothing,” he says coolly, pulling her closer to him. Pam realizes that she still hasn’t moved from Ryan’s side.

Pam has never been one to dress provocatively, but that night after she showers off the chlorine and begins getting dressed for dinner, she searches through her bag for something a little less… Pam-like. 

 

She pulls out a black halter-top that she bought months ago, but has never actually worn.  It is usually hung prominently in her closet, taunting her insecurities and awaiting the day for it to finally be chosen.   She slips on her favorite pair of jeans and wriggles into the shirt, tying it carefully behind her neck as though she is being graded on her performance. Maybe she'll leave her hair down  tonight.

 

There is a soft knock on her door.  Phyllis had promised to pick her up on their way down to the dining hall. 

 

“One second!” she calls to her, taking one last assessment of herself in the mirror.

 

“Oh, hi,” she jumps back a little as she opens the door. 

 

“Hi,” he echoes, his hands shoved in his pockets.  “You look… nice.”

 

“Thank you.”   She can feel her heart speeding up a bit. 

 

“I wanted to… talk to you for a second.”

 

“Well, come in,” she offers, taking a seat on the bed.

 

“Um, I know this has been… awkward,” he sighs, leaning against the door jamb.

 

“Yeah, well, things get that way when you give someone the silent treatment,” she says, crossing her arms.

 

“Listen, I’m sorry about that, okay?” Jim says. “I just don’t want this weekend to be any more awkward than it needs to be.  I don’t need Karen on my case about you anymore.”

 

“Oh, so that’s the only reason you’re talking to me?  To get your girlfriend off of your back?”

 

“Well, truthfully, Pam, I don’t think I have a lot to apologize for here.  I mean, it’s not like any of this is my--” he stops himself mid-sentence and looks away.

 

“Your what?” she asks, wondering if he’s forgotten so much about her that he doesn’t realize that she is too stubborn to let him just drop the subject.  “Your fault?  Which would mean that all of this between us has been my fault?”

 

“You know what?   It doesn’t matter anyway so why don’t we just be civil to each other and move on?” he says gruffly. 

 

“Fine.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Great.”

 

She is about to throw out the next line in their battle of who could care less when Phyllis appears behind him. 

 

“Are you two… ready for dinner?”

 

“I’m going to go get Karen,” Jim huffs, retreating quickly down the hallway.

 

“Sorry, was I interrupting?” Phyllis asks softly as Pam closes the door to her room.

 

“No, not at all actually,” she plasters a smile on her face.  “The drinks are free on this boat, right?”

 

They make their way up to the dining hall, which ends up being fairly large with multiple bars and dance floors.  Obviously the place is built to hold a lot more people than those that just happen to be traveling from New Jersey to Baltimore.  The size of the place makes their small group seem even less significant.

 

“Dunder-Mifflin!” Michael calls them over to their table from across the room. 

 

“I’ll grab us some drinks,” Pam tells Phyllis and Bob as she hurries over to the bar. 

 

“How can I help you Miss?” the bartender asks as he eyes her up and down.  She should probably feel offended, but instead she feels a little bit proud of her new self.

 

“I’ll have a Heineken and two cosmopolitans,” she says coolly as though she orders cocktails all the time. 

 

“You’re at the big table in the corner?” he asks.  “Tell you what, I’ll fix them up here and deliver them to you myself.”

 

“Well, thank you…”

 

“Bill,” he says with a wink.

 

“Pam,” she replies, smirking for a moment as she walks away. 

 

By the time she reaches the table everyone has taken their seats, leaving only one open between Jim and Ryan.  She stands awkwardly by the table for a moment, unnoticed over the hum of dinner conversation, before Ryan jumps to his feet. 

 

“Here,” he offers his chair to her, speaking to her under his breath.  “We can switch.”

 

“Thanks,” she whispers as he slides the chair in for her before taking the seat next to Jim.

 

Glancing around the table she notices that she is directly across from Michael, who is picking at the bread in front of him and complaining about the fact that there is not yet a technology that can take the carbs out of bread.  Jan looks like she’s only pretending to listen, taking generous sips of her cosmopolitan. 

 

Phyllis and Bob are beside her and Dwight is, unsurprisingly, seated next to Michael (and listening adamantly to his carbohydrate diatribe).   Stanley and Terry are in between Dwight and Karen and the two women seem to be involved in some sort of conversation about the rising levels of mercury found in seafood.

 

“Here you go,” the bartender arrives, delivering the drinks and she passes two to Phyllis and Bob.

 

“Oh, I should go up and get a drink,” Ryan realizes. 

 

“Hold on a sec,” she puts a hand on his arm as he tries to stand.  “Hey, Bill?  Would you mind getting my friend here a…”

 

"Beer is fine,” Ryan jumps in. 

 

“No problem, Pam,” Bill winks at her again before walking away and she finds herself wondering for a moment if this guy is afflicted with some sort of winking spasm.   It’s the kind of question she might usually ask Jim, but she doesn’t.

 

“Impressive,” Ryan says to her.  She can see Jim tearing at the napkin in front of him. 

 

“So, Michael just came by my room to call a ‘truce on our feud,’ as he put it,” Ryan says to her softly.  “Actually, I think he used the word ‘truancy,’ but I’m pretty sure he meant ‘truce.’”

 

“Oh really?” she says, raising her eyebrows.  “I had something similar happen just now too.”

 

He furrows his eyebrows in question and she feels her eyes flicker towards Jim, like it’s an uncontrollable reflex she has.  Ryan mouths the word “oh” and nods his head in understanding.

 

“Ryan,” Karen whispers.  “Don’t look, but that girl at the next table is totally checking you out.”

 

“Not bad,” Jim grins appreciatively at the woman. 

 

“Hey,” Karen elbows him in the side. 

 

“What?” he laughs, taking another sip of beer.  “I meant for Ryan.”

 

“Ryan already has a girlfriend,” Pam says to him, surprised at a faint pang of jealousy, though she’s not quite sure where it comes from.

 

“Oh really?  You remember her, Pam?” Jim says sarcastically.  His tone sounds like he’s trying to be flip, but his eyes seem to betray his intentions.  

 

Pam bites her bottom lip, but doesn’t break their stare.  Beside her, Ryan takes a long sip of his beer.

 

Michael purses his lips, letting out a slow exhale.  “Awkward.  Alright now, how about a new topic?”

 

From there Michael launches into a one-sided debate over whether or not Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan should be back in rehab, which is easy enough for Pam to tune out since he is on the other side of the table and everyone seems to be breaking into separate conversations. 

 

“The sad thing is,” Ryan leans over to her.  “I could probably discuss this with him with the amount of E! News broadcasts I sit through.”

 

Pam chortles into her nearly empty drink. 

 

“Yeah I could totally see you subbing for Ryan Seacrest sometime.”

 

“Ouch, thanks for that comparison,” Ryan says, baffled.

 

“Just because of the name, not because you’re a huge douche-bag,” she giggles. 

 

“Right.  Of course, I should have known.” 

 

Once the seafood buffet opens everyone piles various crustaceans onto their plates.  When they are all sitting down again Dwight enlightens them about his extensive knowledge of the Blue crab (Callinectes sapidus, apparently). 

 

“Little known fact,” he says loudly, holding a crab out in front of him by the claws.  “If a live crab’s claw is held above an open flame, the crab will sacrifice that appendage, sealing off its muscle tissue to prevent itself from bleeding to death.”

 

“You think Dwight could do that if I held his arm over that candle?” Ryan mutters to her and she can’t help but laugh again.

 

“I wish I could do that,” Dwight sighs loudly and she just about chokes on the mussel she is eating.

 

It’s about three rounds of drinks later and she is leaning into Ryan every time he makes her laugh.  Something about his humor is so cynical and twisted that she can’t help but be completely enthralled.  Roy never really got sarcasm, he’d always take it literally and then either get really offended, or not get it at all.   In fact, she is enjoying herself so much that she doesn’t even mind when his hand brushes her knee, even though he quickly apologizes, saying it was an accident. 

 

“Pam, I think Bill is going to ask you for your room number by the end of this dinner,” Phyllis giggles. 

 

“Oh yeah? Well I am single now,” Pam raises her eyebrows suggestively. 

 

“Sure you won’t be back with Roy in a few months?” Jim asks nonchalantly as he takes a sip of his drink.

 

“Jim,” Karen hisses at him and Pam fumbles with the napkin on her lap. 

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean… it was a joke,” he stutters quickly.  “Too soon?”

 

“I’m going to head back to my room,” Dwight announces with an exaggerated yawn. 

 

“What?  What about el discoteca?” Michael protests.  “We were supposed to get jiggy.  Want me to find a girl for you to hook up with?”

 

“I have a girlfriend, remember Michael?” Dwight shakes his head. 

 

“Right, now I forget, is that your sister or your first cousin?” Jim smirks and Dwight pushes away from the table quickly. 

 

Pam glances behind her, watching Dwight exit the room.  Not more than a few seconds later a woman sitting in the corner alone and dressed all in black (complete with sunglasses) slips out behind him.  Pam grins to herself, but Ryan catches her eye and she knows that he has been watching the same thing. 

 

“Tell me what you know,” he whispers underneath the current of laughter and conversation going on around the table. 

 

“Tell me what you know,” she counters.

 

“You first.”

 

“No way, I’m not giving up my information unless I know what I’m getting in return.”

 

“Well, someone has to start,” he shakes his head.  “Okay… does your information have to do with…”

 

He glances around quickly before mouthing the word “An-gel-a.”

 

She nods. 

 

“Wow, I thought I was the only one who knew,” Ryan sighs with relief. 

 

“Oh I’ve known for a while now,” Pam says.  “How did you find out?”

 

“Um, I was making a sandwich and I heard them talking about… cookies.  And I’m pretty sure they weren’t of the Girl Scout variety, if you know what I mean.”

 

“That’s what she said,” Pam spouts. 

 

“Wait, what?” He laughs at her.  “That made no sense.”

 

“Well, I’m just glad that someone knows.  It’s been killing me.”

 

“Yeah?  Well, I’m privy to a lot of secrets around this office,” Ryan shrugs casually. 

 

“Oh really?” Pam challenges.  “You think you know more than I do?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Try me.”

 

Ryan looks around at the other members of the table before leaning forward.  His lips brushing against her ear as he speaks almost distract her entirely from the words themselves. 

 

“I know who Phyllis had that one-night stand with.”

 

“What??!” she shrieks, grabbing the attention of everyone at their table (and probably the neighboring tables, and maybe even tables in China). 

 

“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on over there?” Michael asks eagerly. 

 

“Oh, we’re just discussing… office secrets,” Ryan grins at her, obviously buzzed, if not teetering on the edge of drunk. 

 

“Office secrets? Oh let me play, I know one!” Michael’s hand shoots up. 

 

“Michael,” Jim says shortly and Michael slowly lowers his hand. 

 

“Wait, what’s your secret, Michael?” Karen asks. 

 

“Oh, um, well… Jan kissed me on Valentine’s Day last year.”

 

“Michael!” Jan hisses at him. 

 

“What? You so did!”

 

“I know how many toes Creed has on his other foot,” Phyllis joins in.

 

“Ew,” Karen grimaces. 

 

“Let’s stick to secrets about people who are here to defend themselves, shall we?” Michael frowns, obviously desperate to steer the conversation away from Creed’s extremities.

 

“I know a secret about Michael,” Ryan grins wickedly across the table.  Michael’s face drops. 

 

“Ryan hooked up with Katy after she and Jim broke up,” Pam says quickly. 

 

“What?” Jim turns to him. 

 

“Who’s Katy?” Karen asks Jim. 

 

“Thanks Pam,” Ryan mutters into his drink. 

 

This time she is the one to lean over and brush her lips against his ear. 

 

“Sorry, but you’re on thin ice with Michael, you don’t want to get fired just for making a drunken mistake do you?”

 

The whispering is apparently enough to earn his instant forgiveness.  Or so she thinks.

 

“Pam got to third base with a guy from my business school on their first date,” Ryan raises his eyebrows at her. 

 

Her mouth drops open and she smacks him on the arm, but she is pretty much too drunk to actually care. 

 

“It was not third base!”

 

He shrugs, taking another swig of his beer.  “Then I guess we are going to have to discuss your definition of third base.  Because I would be very interested to know what that is.”

 

“This is a stupid game,” Jim mutters as he pushes away from the table.  “I’m going to go to the bar.”

 

“I’m with Jimbo, let’s move this party to the bar!” Michael jumps up, dragging Jan behind him. 

 

“I think we’re going to head to bed,” Stanley says before exiting with his wife. 

 

“Yeah, us too,” Phyllis grins at Bob, although Pam is pretty certain that they aren’t about to be doing any sleeping. 

 

“You guys want to head to the bar?” Karen asks them.  As they stand up she grips Pam’s elbow.  “Can I talk to you for a… second?”

 

“Oh, um, sure.  We’ll see you over there,” she says to Ryan as he walks away. 

 

“What is going on with you two?” Karen giggles as soon as he is out of earshot. 

 

“With who?  Ryan?” Pam laughs.  “Absolutely nothing, I don’t think about Ryan that way.”

 

“Are you sure?” she grins.  “Because I think he’s thinking about you that way.”

 

Pam can’t help the blush creeping up her neck and she allows herself to fall into a fit of giggles with Karen until they are both clutching onto each other’s shoulders just to be able to stand upright. 

 

“You know, I really do like you, Pam,” Karen says once she catches her breath. 

 

“I know.  I really do like you too.”

 

And it almost hurts to say, because it really is true.

 

“What is up with you two?” Jim asks once they join him at the bar.  He seems to have overcome his sour streak (at least for now) by drowning in a few tequila shots. 

 

“Who, us?” Karen looks at Pam innocently. 

 

“Just some girl talk,” Pam smiles back. 

 

“I ordered for you,” Jim slides a raspberry martini towards Karen, which she rewards him for with a kiss.

 

“Here,” Ryan hands her a drink.  “Try it.”

 

“Mmm, what is this? Pineapple?” she licks her lips after the first sip. 

 

“You got it.”

 

She goes to hand it back to him, but he waves her off as he slides off his barstool, offering it to her. 

 

“It’s yours, I got it for you.”

 

“Thanks,” she grins, hopping up onto the leather cushion. 

 

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Ryan announces. 

 

“Oh, man, don’t break the seal!” Karen giggles, slouching on the bar counter. 

 

“I know, I know, but it has to be done,” he shrugs. 

 

Pam waves lazily as he walks away and leans toward her glass to take a sip, rather than picking it off the bar and bringing it to her lips. 

 

Suddenly his lips are there against her ear again, like he has forgotten to tell her something important that just can’t wait.  His fingertips burn into the space of naked skin between her shoulder blades.

 

“I have another secret that I didn’t tell you earlier,” he whispers, his voice grainier and lower than she has ever heard before.  “You look really amazing tonight.” 

 

And just as quickly as it had happened, he is gone again.  She glances to Jim and his eyes are frozen, staring at the spot on her back that is still tingling with electricity.

Pam wakes up with a splitting headache, still wearing the same clothes she wore the previous night. She looks around her little matchbox room blearily, attempting to judge the time of day by the amount of light coming through the porthole window.

 

She thinks that it is at least nine, hopefully ten, but her watch tells her that it is actually only eight. Sleeping in after drinking has never been something she could accomplish easily. Her jeans are uncomfortable at this point and she needs to pee, but she knows that if she gets up now, they’ll be no turning back. She tries to lie down again and will herself to sleep, but inevitably fails and finds herself slipping on her bathing suit instead.

 

It's early still, but the sun is warm on her shoulders as she walks out onto the pool deck. She falters as she comes across Jim, stretched out on one of the lounge chairs. Her instincts tell her to turn around and run the other way, but she forces herself to sit down next to him instead.

 

“Good morning,” she says, painting on the cheerfulness she hopes to exude.

 

“Oh, hey,” he looks at her over the rims of his sunglasses. She has never seen him wear sunglasses before and oddly they do not seem to suit him. But at least it means she doesn’t have to be distracted by the bruise. “Headache?”

 

“Terrible one,” she sighs as she lies down on her chair. “You?”

 

“The sun’s helping,” he says with a yawn.

 

“Where’s Karen?”

 

“Getting her suit on, I think. Where’s Ryan?” His tone isn’t particularly confrontational, but his words sting all the same.

 

“No idea. In his room I guess?” she shrugs as though she hasn’t a clue what he could be talking about.

 

“Oh yeah? You two seemed pretty cozy last night, if I remember correctly.”

 

“Flirting doesn’t have to lead to sex,” she states simply, refusing to back down from him. “Why, jealous?”

 

He turns his face towards her and she can see her own reflection mirrored back to her.

 

“Why? Do you want me to be?”

 

She hadn’t expected him to say that, especially not in that completely serious tone. She had expected him to back off.

 

“Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter if I do anymore.”

 

“Maybe it does,” he says as though it is the most natural response in the world. She can hardly believe that they are actually sort of having this conversation. Her stomach begins to ache.

 

“So, do you?” he presses again.

 

“That depends…” she replies calmly. “Are you?”

 

“I think you know that I’m jealous of anyone who gets to touch you like that,” he says quietly.

 

Pam attempts and fails to swallow the growing lump in her throat.

 

“I’m going to take a swim,” she jumps to her feet, shedding her clothing quickly. Her knees are shaking due to the way his eyes seem to be tracing every inch of exposed skin.

 

Nearly sprinting across the pool top, she dives head first into the pool, even though the warning sign painted on the edge explicitly says not to. The water is cold enough that she feels like her insides are shrinking away from her skin, like her body is folding in on itself. It is oddly comforting.

 

By the time she surfaces her skin is screaming that it has just about had enough, so she pulls herself out with the metal ladder and skips over to the hot tub instead. Jim hasn’t moved and is facing away from her.

 

“Hey Pam, mind if I join you?” Karen asks, walking up behind her.

 

“Definitely,” she smiles and Karen slips into the water.

 

“Last night was fun, huh?” she sighs.

 

“Yeah, but I’m definitely paying for it this morning,” Pam chuckles, pressing her fingers against the bridge of her nose.

 

“Yeah, I hear you on that one.”

 

“Hi girls,” Phyllis emerges behind them. “May I?”

 

“Please do,” Karen replies as she joins them.

 

“So, Pam,” Phyllis can’t contain herself. “Anything… interesting happen last night?”

 

“Let’s just settle this right now, you two,” Pam smiles. “I retired to my own room by myself last night, so I better not hear any rumors going around that say otherwise.”

 

“Well, we’ve still got another night,” Phyllis shrugs innocently before Pam shoots her a joking glare.

 

“You better watch yourself, Mrs. Vance. The walls of our rooms are apparently paper thin, so don’t think I don’t know what you were up to this morning,” she grins wickedly.

 

“Well, I’m a married woman,” Phyllis waves her ring finger teasingly. “It’s to be expected.”

 

“Yeah, I bet you’re still in that honeymoon stage,” Karen says wistfully. “That must be nice.”

 

“Actually…” Phyllis lowers her voice to an almost whisper. “It’s exhausting.”

 

The three of them burst into a short fit of laughter, hardly noticing when Michael appears beside them with a tray in hand.

 

“How are my ladies this morning?” he grins. “Mimosa, anyone?”

 

Pam is about to shake her head no, but then remembers something from college about alcohol being the best cure for a hangover.

 

“I’ll take one, Michael,” she smiles up at him.

 

“That’s my girl! Ladies?”

 

Karen and Phyllis look at each other and shrug.

 

“We are on vacation, right?” Karen rationalizes, and soon they all have drinks in hand.

 

“God, I had my doubts,” Karen sighs as she takes a long sip and stares out at the ocean. “But this actually pretty great. Much better than work.”

 

“Just look at that sky,” Phyllis smiles. “Have you ever seen anything so blue? Its hard to think that we’re just a few miles off the coast of New Jersey.”

 

“Have you ever noticed how blue Ryan’s eyes are?” Karen bites her bottom lip as a grin stretches across her face. “Now those are some eyes that’ll make your panties wet.”

 

“Karen!” Pam’s eyes widen, but she laughs anyway.

 

“Speak of the devil,” Phyllis whispers. They turn to see Ryan stumbling across the pool deck, obviously still in his pajamas (an old Weezer concert t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts). His hair is sticking out every which way and he is rubbing his eyes.

 

“What time is it?” he yawns, sinking down onto the pavement next to the Jacuzzi.

 

“It’s almost nine,” Phyllis offers. “How was your night?”

 

“Good,” he stretches his arms out above his head, settling his back against the ground. “From what I can remember. I think that maybe I’m still a little drunk.”

 

“This might help,” Pam offers him her glass and he takes an appreciative sip before handing it back to her.

 

“Actually it kind of does,” he laughs.

 

“You should go get your suit on, Ryan,” Karen suggests, winking in Phyllis’ direction.

 

“Yeah… I think I might just… lie here for a second,” he mumbles, his eyes drifting closed.

 

His head is resting closest to Pam and she reaches out to playfully tug on his hair.

 

“Look at this hair,” she giggles. “You’re a wreck.”

 

“Mmm, yeah, keep doing that,” he murmurs as though he hasn’t heard her (and it was very possible that he hadn’t). “Makes my head hurt less.”

 

She lets her fingers continue to glide through his hair, stroking the top of his head gently. The softness of men’s hair always takes her by surprise, especially since they never seem to take the painstaking care to get it that way that women always do.

 

It isn’t long before he is sound asleep and the girls have all finished their drinks.

 

“So, what are we supposed to do all day anyway?” Karen asks, tipping her glass enough to get the last droplet out.

 

“Drink?” Phyllis shrugs, eliciting another round of giggles.

 

“I was sure that Michael would have something ridiculous planned, but it seems like Jan’s keeping him under control. It’s kind of throwing me for a loop,” Pam says.

 

“We should do something totally juvenile, like play Hide and Seek or something,” Karen offers.

 

“Oh man, I used to fantasize about playing Hide and Seek somewhere amazing like this,” Pam replies enthusiastically.

 

“But what if we… disappear?” Phyllis chuckles, recalling Michael’s earlier warning.

 

“Well, that settles it, we are definitely doing that later today,” Karen raises her glass in a mock-toast.

 

“Hey,” Jim is standing at the edge awkwardly. “Mind if I come in?”

 

“Recovered from that hangover yet?” Karen beams at him as he sits down beside her.

 

“Yeah, just about,” he sighs as Michael approaches with another round of their morning cocktail.

 

“Don’t know if that means that I’m ready to start drinking again just yet,” Jim adds as the drinks are passed around.

 

“Speak for yourself,” Phyllis grins, taking a glass.

 

“Yowza, this baby is hot,” Michael winces as he dips into the water.

 

“Yeah, the name kind of gives that away man,” Jim laughs at him.

 

“So, do you have anything planned for us today, Michael?” Karen asks, sipping her fresh drink.

 

“Well, I was thinking a movie in the viewing room, and, well… I’m not sure about the other stuff… Jan says it isn’t appropriate,” he sighs in defeat.

 

“A movie sounds great, Michael,” Pam nods encouragingly, which seems to lift his spirits a little.

 

"I think I at least have something special planned for my fellow dudes later," Michael raises his eyebrows in Jim's direction.

 

"Oh... great," Jim says and steals a sip of Karen's drink.

Phyllis giggles as Ryan rolls over on his side, sighing loudly in his sleep.

 

“Pam, you should scratch his head again and see if he starts kicking his legs like a puppy,” Karen snickers.

 

She makes eye contact with Jim, who immediately turns back to Karen instead, and reaches her hand out to stroke Ryan’s hair again.

 

This time, however, his eyes flutter open and catch hers, the depth of their blue resonating somewhere in her chest. She remembers suddenly what Karen was saying about the panties and immediately recoils her hand.

 

Ryan flips onto his stomach, propping his chin up on his fists.

 

“You think they have shuffle board courts on this boat?” he asks as though he’s been conscious for the past twenty minutes.

 

“Actually, I believe they do,” Michael’s eyes light up. “Are you thinking about a tourney?”

 

“A what?” Phyllis asks.

 

“A tourney, you know, tournament? Get with it, Phyllis,” Michael rolls his eyes.

 

“We should make teams,” Pam suggests.

 

“Well for that we need team captains, Pam,” Michael grins, obviously overcome with excitement.

 

“How about Ryan, since it was his idea?” Karen asks, and Michael nods appreciatively.

 

“I’ll do it,” Jim volunteers.

 

“Alright, fine, Ryan, you pick first,” Michael says.

 

“Okay… I’ll take Phyllis,” Ryan says and she grins excitedly.

 

“Karen,” Jim says, putting an arm around her for effect.

 

“Pam,” Ryan points at her.

 

“Um… I’ll take Bob Vance, he’ll play, right Phyllis?” Jim asks. Michael crosses his arms, obviously discouraged.

 

“Alright then, I’ll take Michael,” Ryan says, hoping to extend their cease-fire for as long as possible. Michael pumps his arm in the air as though he’s just won the Superbowl.

 

“Then I’ve got Jan,” Jim shrugs.

 

“There’s a gift shop on the second deck,” Pam says eagerly. “We should go pick out hats or something in our team colors.”

 

“And names! We so need team names!” Michael adds with a clap.

 

“I’ll go get Bobby,” Phyllis stands up and winks at Pam and Ryan. “I trust you two to pick out some good colors for us.”

 

“Yeah, I’m going to go grab something to cover up with,” Karen adds, stepping out of the water and Jim follows.

 

Michael’s already bolted and is bounding over to Jan to tell her the news.

 

“How’s the head?” Pam asks as Ryan sits upright.

 

“Better, I think,” he smiles wearily. “God those walls are thin. Last night I got to fall asleep to the sounds of Jim and Karen having sex.”

 

“At least you were drunk,” she offers, attempting to gloss over the subject.

 

“Yeah, I think I was able to just pass out,” he yawns. “You need to go change?”

 

“I have something to cover up with in my bag,” she points to a lounge chair. “But you certainly do.”

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he laughs, looking down at his disheveled clothing. “Why don’t we swing by my room on the way to the gift shop? It’s on the way.”

 

“Sure,” she says, climbing out of the tub and reaching for her bag. She pulls out a soft yellow sundress and slips into it. “Ready.”

 

She is a little wary of being so close to Jim and Karen’s little love nest, so when Ryan motions for her to follow him inside she does so without question. It isn’t until he’s down to his boxers that she realizes that maybe this is a bit of an uncomfortable situation in itself. She probably should have just waited outside.

 

“You can’t dress like a pro-shuffle boarder without a polo shirt,” he’s saying as he slips one on.

 

“Oh shoot, does that mean I need one too?” she laughs.

 

“Nah,” he turns to her, looking over her dress. “You should definitely keep wearing that.”

 

“Oh wait,” she giggles, stepping towards him. She runs her hands beneath the collar of the shirt, pulling it upward against his neck. “You need the complete toolbox effect here I think.”

 

“Plus, it’ll keep my neck from getting sunburned,” he grins. “Should we go?”

 

Pam nods and begins to follow him out of the room when something unusual catches the light, and her eye.

 

“Oh, wait… is that…no,” she gasps, lunging for his suitcase.

 

“Oh great,” he sighs. “I know, it’s awful. Michael told me to bring it. I’m pretty sure he had plans to make me return it publicly or something. I’m not even sure why I kept the thing.”

 

“This is a collector’s item, my friend,” she giggles, clutching his Dundie in her hand. “How could you ever think to part with it?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, very funny,” he laughs.

 

“No, seriously, Ryan,” she continues with a grin. “Hottest in the office? That’s a coveted award. It’s like… winning Best Actor at the Oscars.”

 

“Yeah, so coveted that I filed for a transfer at the temp agency. Unfortunately, I had a little bit of trouble explaining the whole ridiculous situation.”

 

“Well, lucky for you they didn’t transfer you then,” she smiles and heads out the door.

 

As she steps out of the room she nearly mows over Jim, who catches her arms instinctively, but lets go immediately as though he had just touched a hot stove.

 

Karen’s eyes go wide and she raises her eyebrows at Pam with a smile as she watches Ryan, who is still buckling his belt.

 

“That was quick,” she whispers to her as they walk past and Pam gives her a playful nudge in the ribs.

 

“I think I just thought up the perfect color scheme,” Ryan turns to her as they make their way down the hall. “Gold lame’.”

 

“Wait, what?” Pam chuckles.

 

“Seriously, wouldn’t gold lame’ visors be the perfect uniform?”

 

“You know, I think you might be on to something here,” she smiles. “If they are out of that, maybe hot pink?”

 

“Michael would look great in pink,” Ryan agrees with a laugh.

 

“You sure you don’t want to pick blue as your color, Pam?” Karen chimes in, a grin stretched across her face.

 

“As I recall, I think you’re the one that has a thing for blue,” Pam fires back with an innocent smile.

 

“What are you two going on about?” Jim sighs, but both women tighten their lips and try to stifle their laughter.

The gift shop is small, stuffy, and full of some of the most random crap Pam has ever seen. She rifles through a bin that consists mainly of packaged batteries and multi-colored pairs of socks. 

 

“Nothing gold in here,” she says to herself, holding up a pair of socks with dolphins on them.

 

“Hey Pam,” Ryan calls her over, holding up a barely-there gold bikini.  “What do you think?  Team uniform?”

 

“Oh yeah, I bet Michael would just love to put that on,” Pam laughs before wincing at the visual in her head.  "On second thought... that's not a lot of suit for a whole lot of Michael."

 

“Yeah, maybe you could buy it for Kelly,” Jim says from a few feet away as he rifles through a Guns & Ammo magazine. 

 

“Look, Jim, will you quit it already?” Ryan sighs loudly.  “Kelly and I broke up like two weeks ago.”

 

Pam raises her eyebrows in surprise. 

 

“Yeah, whatever you say man,” Jim mutters.

 

“Yeah, she dumped me actually.  So, you can just stop with all of the comments, alright?” Ryan shakes his head and walks calmly out of the store with Jim staring after him. 

 

“Nice job,” Pam says to him crossly. 

 

“What?  How was I supposed to know?” he shrugs and goes back to his magazine.  “Sorry if I upset your new boyfriend.”

 

She wants to say something, but at this point she finds herself at a loss for words and all she can do is shake her head at him before walking towards the door.

 

 “Just perfect.” She hears him say as she walks away.

 

“Ryan, wait!” she jogs out of the shop after him.  “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah I’m fine, I just can’t deal with that right now.”  He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.  “I mean, if he wants to say something to me he should just go ahead and say it.”

 

“Why did she… what happened?” she asks, then thinks better of it.  “You don’t have to answer that.”

 

“No, its okay, really.  It was my own stupid fault.  She caught me flirting with this girl from the gym.”

 

“Wow, that must have been… did she throw things?”

 

She’s relieved when actually he smiles at her attempted joke.  “No, actually, it was weird.  She wasn’t even mad.  It was like she expected it sort of.  And then she said that we needed to spend some time apart… so that I could grow up.  I mean, can you believe that?  The girl who still has paintings of unicorns on her walls wants me to grow up.”

 

“Wow.  And how do you feel about all of it?”

 

“Me? I don’t know… I mean, maybe she’s right.  Maybe I’m just not ready yet.  I don’t treat her right, I’m always blowing her off… I don’t even deserve her.”

 

Pam isn’t quite sure what to say to him, because what he’s saying is probably true after all. 

 

“I do love her though,” he sighs.  “She’s got a date, you know.  Tonight actually.  Some friend of a friend.  She told me not to worry about it.  That we’d get back together once I… get certain things out of my system.”

 

“I think it will work out, Ryan.”   She’s not sure what else to say.

 

“Maybe,” he shrugs.  “Maybe not.  I mean, maybe we shouldn’t.  I feel like you probably know what it’s like…”

 

“What what is like?”

 

“Loving someone, but just not being ready to be with them yet?”  As he says it his eyes don’t leave hers and she’s uncomfortable and surprised all at once. 

 

“Yeah, I think I might know… that feeling,” she says softly. 

 

“Thought so.”

 

“But wait, weren’t you talking to her on the phone… like, right before we left?” she asks. 

 

“Yeah, well, it is Kelly.  Just because she dumped me doesn’t mean she calls any less,” he laughs.   “Come on, let’s go find us some team spirit.”

 

The sun is hot on the shuffleboard deck and the green pavement seems to shimmer in the light.  Pam adjusts the brim of her gold visor as she sets up for her next shot.  The gift shop did end up being stocked with an assortment of gold lame’ products.  Apparently it’s a very popular color with the over-seventy demographic.

 

“Come on, Sliders!” Phyllis chants enthusiastically.  Pam had come up with the name as a throwback to that old sci-fi show and Ryan had instantly agreed. 

 

Pam feels kind of like one of the Golden Girls in her granny visor, but it only seems to be giving her more skill on the shuffle court.  She pulls her stick back and launches the disk forward, watching as it makes a satisfying crack against one of Jim’s black disks, pushing it off its point space, with hers landing squarely in the uppermost triangle. 

 

“Yes!  Ten points!” she raises her arms in triumph, exchanging high-fives with Ryan and Michael.

 

“Nice job there, Blanche,” Ryan says to her as though he’s just read her mind.

 

“Blanche, huh?  And who would that make you… Dorothy?”

 

“Hey, don’t knock Dorothy,” he shrugs.  “She was one tough broad.”  

 

“Ooh, can I be the grandmother??” Michael jumps in.  “Now she was feisty.”

 

Pam is surprised that she actually finds herself laughing at one of Michael’s jokes.  When he notices he looks just as surprised as she is, if not a little confused.

 

After four rounds the Sliders had massacred Team Paper Cut three to one (even with the handicap that was Michael Scott on their team).

 

“I think I’m about ready for that movie,” Karen groans, being the only one on her team to win a match.  “You guys suck.”

 

“Hey, I’m not exactly built for shuffle board,” Jim says.

 

“He might be right,” Pam shrugs, hoping that Jim has finally cooled off his mean streak.  “It helps being short because you can get a lot lower.”

 

“Probably why Ryan’s so good,” Jim smiles and pats him on the shoulder.  Pam realizes that maybe she spoke too soon.

 

“Thanks man,” Ryan smiles back.  “Oh, I forgot to ask… how was that Australia trip you went on anyway?  No postcard?”

 

Jim rolls his eyes and walks away. 

 

“You went to Australia?” Pam can hear Karen asking him as he shakes his head.

 

“So… movie then?” Jan asks.

 

“Fantastic idea, loser,” Michael points at her with a laugh.  “Let’s all meet up in the viewing room… last one there is a rotten egg!”

 

As Michael turns to dash off down the deck, he stops dead in his tracks. 

 

“Angela?”

 

Angela is standing there, mouth wide open with Dwight at her side.

 

“Oh, Michael, hello,” she says, her voice shaking.  “What a… strange coincidence.”

 

“Yes, I just ran into Angela… on the upper deck,” Dwight says quickly.  “What a surprise, right?”

 

“Wait, what?” Michael crosses his arms, looking at each of them. 

 

“Oh, right, I totally forgot about that cruise you were telling me about, Angela,” Pam jumps in quickly to deflect Michael’s attention. 

 

“Angela booked the same cruise?” Michael says, his tone telling her that he isn’t quite buying it. 

 

“Oh yeah, she’s been planning this for months, I completely forgot,” Pam explains.  “There’s this big cat convention in Baltimore on Sunday.  She’s been talking about it nonstop.” 

 

Michael turns to Angela, who nods in agreement. 

 

“Yes, there’s a whole… group of us,” she says. 

 

“Then how did we end up on the same cruise?” Michael asks.

 

“Maybe you overheard her talking about it in the break room and it put the idea in your head?” Pam says, grasping for anything. 

 

“Yeah, she mentioned it to me too,” Ryan jumps in.  “A few weeks ago actually.”

 

“Wow, well that’s incredible, isn’t it??” Michael says excitedly.  “It’s like… destiny.”

 

“I guess so,” Angela smiles uncomfortably. 

 

“But wait… don’t cats hate water or something?  Why would you want to put them on a boat?  What if they freak out and try to claw your eyes out while you're sleeping?”

 

“Um… well, the convention is only for the cat owners really.  You can bring pets, but… Sprinkles just recently gave birth.  She’s really in no condition to travel,” Angela explains coolly.

 

“Oooh, kitties?  Can I have one? Jan! We should get a kitten together, wouldn’t that be fun?” Michael says enthusiastically.  “What do you think?  Angela?”

 

“Michael, I don’t…” Jan begins, but seems too exasperated to even finish her sentence.

 

Angela has a look of disgust on her face, recoiling at the thought of Michael owning her cat's offspring.  “Maybe you can have… the runt.  I’ll think about it.”

 

“Great!  Well, you’ll both have to join us for the flick, then!” Michael says before taking his leave of the group. 

 

“We’re not going to watch Varsity Blues again are we, Michael?” Jan asks him as they walk away.

 

“Oh, you’re just mad because I wouldn’t do the whipped cream bikini for you,” Michael says.

 

“Michael!” she shushes him.  Pam is thankful not to have to hear anymore of that conversation.     

 

Angela mouths a “thank you” to Pam and she and Dwight disappear down separate corridors.

 

“Nice save,” Ryan says.

 

“All in a days work,” she smiles. 

 

Once Pam changes out of her swimsuit and into a comfy pair of old sweatpants (although she does hesitate before putting them on, wondering if Karen only wears those designer Juicy sweatpants that are all cute and sexy) she heads down to the viewing room. 

 

Everyone is already in place, spread around the comfortable-looking room, which is filled with various couches and beanbag cushions. 

 

“Not bad,” she nods, continually surprised at how much better the ship looks from the inside.

 

Ryan catches her eye, already stretched out on a couch, and he motions for her to come sit with him.  Luckily this time Karen and Jim are behind her instead of in front.  She waves to Karen before plopping down on the couch, smiling since Karen’s sweatpants seem to resemble her own.

 

“Alright, now that we are all present and accounted for,” Michael announces loudly.  “This afternoon’s feature film will be the epic tale of disaster and romance…” He pauses to wink at Jan, who looks away quickly.  “Titanic!”

 

A groan echoes across the room. 

 

“Don’t you have anything else?  I’m sure everyone has seen that a million times,” Karen asks. 

 

“Nope, not true, which is specifically why I chose it,” Michael explains.  “I know for a fact that Jim and Pam have never seen this movie.”

 

Pam’s about to ask what the hell he is talking about when she remembers.  The conference room.  The booze cruise. 

 

She glances back at Jim and he grins widely, probably the first smile she’s shared with him in weeks. 

 

“What is that all about?” She can hear Karen whispering.

 

“Oh, nothing,” Jim answers.  “He’s just thinking of The Hunt for Red October.”

 

Pam can tell without looking back that Karen is disappointed with his answer and the fact that he is quite obviously leaving her out of the joke, so she finds herself turning around. 

 

“Last year Michael was trying to compare our office to different parts of a ship,” she whispers to Karen.  “I think his only reference point was Titanic and we tried to convince him that it wasn’t a real movie.”

 

“Ohh, right,” Karen grins at her appreciatively.  Jim says nothing, as though he resents her letting someone else in on their joke. 

 

“Oh, and Pam?” Michael calls out to her.  “I’m not going to spoil the end for you, but I’m expecting some waterworks since this is your first time!”

 

“That’s what she said,” Ryan mutters under his breath.

 

“Michael, please don’t tell me you’re going to cry,” Jan sighs loudly.

 

“No, not me, I said Pam,” Michael says defensively.

 

As the lights dim and the credits begin to roll, she realizes that she’s probably in for the long haul, and now she’s going to have to find a way to fake cry at the end of it.

 

“I’m bored already,” Ryan whispers to her. 

 

“They aren’t even on the boat yet,” she giggles. 

 

“Yeah, let me know when people start drowning,” he yawns, stretching his legs across her lap. 

 

His eyes drift closed and she turns her attention back to the screen.  Watching the movie (which she probably hasn’t seen since it was in theaters) is strangely soothing, like slipping into a warm bath.  It reminds her of all things high school and her first few dates with Roy.  How they sat side by side in the dark, watching, but not watching Kate and Leo go through their angst-filled dance. 

 

She remembers how different she was then, and how new everything had felt.  The way she positioned her hand on the armrest just so, hoping that he would take it in his.  The way that he finally did take it around the time that Jack saves Rose from going over the edge.   The way she felt herself blush when Jack sketches her nude, or when that one sweaty hand steals across the glass.

 

Her eyes flit back to Ryan, expecting him to be sound asleep.  Instead she can see the reflection of the movie flickering in his eyes.  Even after all of his bravado, maybe he really was just a sucker for this movie like everyone else in the known universe.

 

They are just about at the point where Billy Zane is inviting Jack to dinner when she suddenly feels like maybe high school wasn’t so long ago after all.  Ryan’s hand reaches out and he lets his fingers tangle in hers.  They aren’t exactly holding hands, more like… holding fingers actually, which is better in some respects because at least this way she doesn’t have to worry about her palm sweating.

 

He doesn’t look over at her, just stares forward at the screen, like he’s not even thinking about whatever it is that he’s doing.  She hasn’t had someone hold her hand since Roy led her out of Phyllis’ wedding, and it hurts and is wonderful all at once.

 

She glances back at Jim, and Karen’s head is on his shoulder, his fingers combing idly through her hair.  The sensation of Ryan’s thumb rubbing rhythmically across the back of her hand makes it easier to forget the couple behind her and focus on the ill-fated couple on the screen.

 

“I didn’t realize that we were watching a pornographic film, Michael,” Angela comments as Jack draws the infamous picture of naked Rose. 

 

“Oh, lighten up, Angela.  It’s nothing you haven’t seen before!” Michael calls over to her before leaning to whisper loudly to Jan.  “I’m serious, I still think she could be a gay lesbian.”

 

“Michael, please,” Jan rolls her eyes.

 

The movie isn’t even half over when she hears the low rumble of Stanley snoring and she wonders how on earth Terry can share a bed with that sound every night.  She looks down at Ryan’s fingers, which are still twisted up in her own.  His nails are very short and she wonders if he bites them.  She thinks that Jim bites his, but she’s never asked.

 

When the ship finally collides with the iceberg Pam thinks she can hear Dwight applaud somewhere behind her.  Michael shushes him, reminding him that this is based on a true story after all, and it isn’t polite to mock the dead.

 

“Except for that stupid bodyguard,” Michael adds to Jan.  “He can just go… drown.  Don’t you think he looks a little bit like Toby?”

 

“What? Michael, he looks nothing like Toby,” Jan sighs and shakes her head. 

 

“Oh look, there goes the warehouse,” Phyllis snickers when the movie cuts to the flooding engine room.

 

For such a painstakingly long movie, it seems to fly past, and soon the end is upon her. 

 

“I’ll never let go Jack, I’ll never let go.”

 

She feels Ryan squeeze her hand as he whispers, “I think you’re supposed to cry now.”

 

In her peripheral vision she can see Michael’s neck craning to look at her, obviously awaiting her reaction (or maybe he just needs a distraction to keep himself from breaking into tears in front of Jan).

 

“Here, just go with it,” Ryan notices as well. 

 

He tugs on her arm, pulling her into him, her face settling in the crook of his neck.  She can feel his hand running up and down her back like he’s comforting her, and his other hand is gently holding her head against his shoulder.

 

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothes.  “It’s only a movie.  Leo didn’t really die.”

 

She has to bury her face in the fabric of his shirt to muffle her laughter and she hopes that it comes across looking like she’s sobbing. 

 

“But what about their love, Ryan?” she chokes with all of the emotion she can muster.  “Their epic, epic love?”

 

“I know, I know,” he sighs, and she can’t help but marvel at how much better of an actor than her he seems to be. 

 

The old lady on the screen plops the necklace into the ocean and she can’t help herself. 

 

“Not the necklace!” she cries again, hiding her face in his shirt.  This time she can feel that he’s struggling to hold back a laugh. 

 

“The ending of this movie is completely unfeasible,” Dwight says.  “Rose should have picked Cal.  He’s a much better provider and Jack relies too much on the whims of the fates.  He wasn’t even resourceful enough to survive the wreck!”

 

“I completely agree.  Rose is a fool,” Angela nods, staring at him for a moment before quickly looking away.

 

The lights come on and Michael rushes over to Pam.

 

“Are you okay, Pam?  I know, it’s a tough one isn’t it?” he’s saying.  She doesn’t look up at him because she knows it will give her away.

 

“I think she just needs a minute,” Ryan whispers to him and she can hear Michael agree and step away. 

 

“Okay, coast is clear,” he says to her after Michael leaves the room and she releases all the laughter she had been bottling up. 

 

“And the Academy Award goes to…” Karen laughs behind her.  “Seriously, I had to hide my face just so Michael wouldn’t see how much I was laughing… that was awesome.”

 

Pam and Karen exchange a high-five across the back of the couch.   She’s about to sit up and resume her position on the other end of the couch when she notices that Karen’s leaning against Jim in much the same way that she’s leaning against Ryan.  She decides not to move. 

 

“Alright kids!” Michael announces, bursting back into the room.  “Gentlemen, I’ve actually arranged for us to have a very special happy hour in the Gentlemen’s club.”

 

“That’s not a strip club, is it?” Angela asks crossly.

 

“No, no, definitely not… I hope,” Michael says slowly.  “So, come on guys, let’s go do some bonding!”

 

“It’s only two in the afternoon,” Bob Vance says. 

 

“Well, Happy Hour starts early on a cruise… no shirt, no shoes, no… rules!”

 

“Can’t wait,” Jim mutters as he gets to his feet. 

 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Karen says as he kisses her cheek. 

 

“Maybe this is when I get to give back my Dundie,” Ryan says to Pam.  "God willing."

 

“No way,” she shakes her head.  “If I were you I’d be buried with that thing.”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” he rolls his eyes.  He squeezes her hand once before following the rest of the men out of the room. 

“So, what now?” Phyllis asks once the men are gone.

 

“Well, why don’t we have our own little Happy Hour?” Karen grins.

 

“I don’t think so,” Angela shakes her head.

 

“Oh, come on, Angela,” Pam pleads. “It’ll just be fun, I promise. Unless the convention group is doing something you need to… rush off to?”

 

“Oh fine,” she rolls her eyes in defeat.

 

“Terri, you in?” Pam asks and she nods emphatically.

 

“Jan?”

 

Jan seems to consider the idea for a moment before carefully nodding. “I guess a few drinks couldn’t hurt.”

 

“I should go change first, should I meet you guys in that weird, dolphin-themed bar down the hall?” Pam suggests, and the women agree.

 

“Actually, I should change too; I’ll come with you,” Karen says, following her out of the room.

 

“You know, I never thought I’d say this,” Pam smiles as they walk down the hallway together. “But I’m having a really good time.”

 

“I am too, actually. I can’t believe Michael was the one who planned it,” Karen grins. “I’ll come by your room after I change?”

 

Pam nods as Karen disappears into her room and she continues on towards her own. She settles on a peach-colored tank top and a pair of jeans. Pam’s pulling her hair back in a ponytail when she hears a knock on the door.

 

“I’ve got something for you,” Karen is smiling mischievously when she opens the door. She shoves a faded denim skirt into her hands excitedly.

 

“I can’t wear this!” Pam protests. “It’s like the size of a postage stamp.”

 

“Oh, come on, Pam,” Karen rolls her eyes. “It is not. Besides, we’re on vacation.”

 

“With people from work,” Pam reminds her.

 

“Yeah, people like Ryan,” Karen raises her eyebrows. “Just try it on, please?”

 

Pam reluctantly agrees and steps into the bathroom to change, thanking God that she thought ahead and shaved her legs earlier.

 

“Wow,” Karen says as Pam smooths the front of the skirt. “You are not taking that off. I won’t let you.”

 

“This is so not me,” Pam shakes her head. “I can’t…”

 

“Yes. You. Can,” Karen insists and practically drags her out of the room.

 

Pam almost turns back around six different times as they walk down the hallway, her heels clicking methodically against the carpet.

 

“Michael… Michael, stop… no, I do not want to wear that.”

 

Karen and Pam exchange a look as they hear Ryan’s voice coming from a room to their left.

 

“That must be where the boys are having their secret meeting,” Karen giggles.

 

“You think we should…?” Pam asks with a grin. Karen thinks for a second and then nods.

 

“We’re going to have to be pretty stealthy I think,” she whispers and motions for Pam to follow her. Pam can’t help but laugh as Karen sinks to the ground and starts crawling on all fours towards the open door, humming the theme to Mission Impossible softly.

 

“Pam,” she motions for her to follow her lead.

 

“This better be worth it,” Pam shakes her head, hoping that her underwear isn’t visible and that she’s not going to end up with carpet-burned knees.

 

“Isn’t this great?” Michael is saying as they crouch behind a large chair. “We should play a game! Who wants to play a game?”

 

“This cigar sucks, Michael,” Jim laughs, puffing on the end of his. Stanley nods in agreement.

 

“Are you kidding? Those are top quality smokes, my man. I bought them at the Carbondale gas station!”

 

“Of course,” Stanley sighs, but continues to smoke his.

 

“I guess we’re just lucky they aren’t made of bubble gum,” Jim says under his breath, eliciting a rare laugh from Stanley.

 

“I know a game, Michael,” Ryan suggests. “Its called ‘Fuck the Dealer.’”

 

“Fuck the… wait, is this a…” Michael stares at him wide-eyed.

 

“It’s a drinking game, not a sex game,” Ryan rolls his eyes. “I need a deck of cards.”

 

Pam and Karen peer around the edges of the chair, watching Ryan deal out cards, cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth, on a table in the middle of the group of men.

 

“Alright, here are the rules,” he explains. “I’ve set up this pyramid of cards, face down on the table. Now, I’m going to flip the first card, and it’s a two of diamonds, so that means any of us can either put down a two, an Ace, or a three, basically you can put anything down as long as it isn’t more than a number away from the card on top of the pile. Every time you put a card down, you say ‘Fuck…someone,’ any one you want that’s playing. Whatever the last name is when everyone runs out of cards to put down, that person has to drink the same number of times as there are cards in the pile.”

 

“This sounds complicated,” Michael whines.

 

“It’s really not, Michael,” Jim says, throwing down the first card. “Fuck Michael.”

 

“Fuck Jim,” Stanley tosses in a card.

 

“Fuck Bob Vance,” Ryan laughs as he adds another.

 

“Fuck… Dwight!” Michael says excitedly. “This is fun!”

 

Eventually they run out of steam and Michael has to drink ten sips. The next round begins and it drags out quite a bit longer than the first.

 

“Fuck Ryan,” Jim tosses an eleventh card on the pile.

 

“Fuck Jim,” Ryan counters.

 

“Fuck Ryan,” Jim’s voice is a little more forceful this time.

 

“Fuck Michael!” Dwight throws in.

 

“Fuck Jim,” Ryan adds, smiling at Jim as he tosses in his card.

 

“Fuck Ryan,” Jim sounds a little more competitive now as he slams his last card down on top of the pile.

 

No one says anything and Michael shrugs that he’s out of cards to play.

 

“Well, Ryan…” Jim starts with a smile, about to claim his victory.

 

“Fuck Jim,” Ryan grins, throwing in a final card.

 

Jim just stares at him and finishes his beer. Pam’s watching him intently when suddenly his eyes glance over at the chair they are peeking over.

 

“Ouch!” Karen cries out as Pam drops down, landing on her ankle. They both freeze, staring at one another.

 

“May we help you ladies?” Jim asks loudly as they stand up slowly.

 

“Ohh, no, we were just…” Pam starts. “The girls are playing Hide and Seek and…”

 

“And Pam and I are… It,” Karen jumps in. “Angela? Angela, are you in here?”

 

“Angela?” Pam says as well, pretending to look underneath the chair. She can see Ryan shaking his head, laughing at her and she has to tighten her lips to prevent a smile from stealing across her face. “Nope, guess not… better keep… looking.”

 

“She’s like a cat that one…” Karen rambles. “Really… sneaky. Ok, better go... bye.”

 

The two of them dash out of the room, barely able to contain their laughter until they are a safe distance away.

 

They make their way to the dolphin-themed monstrosity where the rest of the women are waiting.

 

“I think we’ll start with a round of Daiquiri’s,” Karen says, heading up to the bar.

 

Pam settles into the round-table booth as Karen hands out the drinks. Even Angela looks pleasantly surprised when she takes a sip of the concoction.

 

“Let’s play a game,” Pam suggests.

 

“Oh, this is so much more fun without the boys,” Phyllis giggles like an eighth grader.

 

“Amen to that,” Karen raises her glass and everyone follows suit except for Angela.

 

“We’re already drinking,” she sighs. “Let’s not mock Jesus while we’re at it.”

 

Pam can feel Karen kick her leg under the table as she buries her face in her Daiquiri.

 

“Oh, I’ve got it! Chuck, fuck, or marry,” Karen exclaims suddenly.

 

“Wait, what?” Pam laughs at her outburst.

 

“For the game. We can play chuck, fuck, or marry,” she explains.

 

“What is… that?” Angela asks, wrinkling her nose.

 

“Well, we use the guys that came with us on this trip and you pick which one you would chuck (get rid of), fuck, or marry,” Karen says.

 

“I’ll do it,” Phyllis giggles.

 

“Okay, but you can’t use Bob Vance!” Pam laughs.

 

“Yeah, I’ll pick the three you get to pick from. How about… Michael, Dwight, and… Jim?” Karen grins.

 

“Oh wow,” Phyllis sighs. “I guess I’d have to marry Jim and… chuck Dwight.”

 

“And the last one…?” Pam grins wickedly.

 

“Do I have to say it?” Phyllis asks and is answered by a chorus of nodding. She leans forward with a whisper, “I guess I’d fuck Michael.”

 

Laughter erupts from the group, including Phyllis, and Jan becomes noticeably red.

 

“Okay, well I’m going to pick… Terri, since she doesn’t know them as well as we do,” Phyllis winks at her. “You get… Jim, Ryan, and Dwight.”

 

Terri pauses to consider the question, taking a hearty gulp of her Daiquiri. “Ryan’s the shorter one, right? I guess I’d sleep with him, marry the tall one, and chuck the weird one.”

 

Angela purses her lips and Pam can’t help but laugh.

 

“Okay… Jan?” Terri says. “Same three.”

 

“I’m not sure that… I should be playing this,” she stutters nervously.

 

“Oh come on, Jan,” Karen pleads. “It’s not like we’re going to report you to HR.”

 

“Alright fine. Chuck Dwight, fuck Jim, marry Ryan,” she says quickly as though she’s reading a report. “Angela? Same three.”

 

“I do not want to play this,” Angela crosses her arms. “But if I have to… then I would marry Dwight and dismiss the other two because I wouldn’t have sex before marriage.”

 

“Dwight??” Karen nearly spits out her drink. “Seriously??”

 

Angela shoots her a cold glare and Karen fidgets. “I mean, yeah… that’s cool. Dwight’s cool…”

 

“Fine, how about you, Karen? Michael, Stanley, and Ryan,” Angela says.

 

“Ooh, okay… chuck Michael, fuck Ryan (definitely), and marry Stanley, he seems like he’s be a decent husband,” she answers thoughtfully. “Now, Pam! Ryan, Michael, or… Jim?”

 

Pam pauses, staring carefully into her glass. She knows that Karen’s waiting on her answer.

 

“Actually, can I pull an Angela and just fuck Ryan and marry him?” she giggles and Karen high-fives her happily.

 

“I knew it!” Karen waves a finger at her and Pam takes a generous gulp of her drink.

 

“We need a new game,” Phyllis smiles, finishing up her Daiquiri. “And more drinks.”

 

“I’ll handle the drinks if you guys can think up another game,” Pam offers and heads up towards the bar.

 

“We meet again,” the bartender says to her with a smile. “Small world, right?”

 

“Yeah, or a small boat,” she laughs. “Bill, right? Can I get a round of Crantinis for my group over there?”

 

She returns with drinks in tow and passes them out to the women around the table. “Did you all pick a game?”

 

“Yep,” Phyllis nods proudly. “We’re going to play Never Have I Ever.”

 

“Ohh, is that the one where you put down a finger and you drink every time you’ve done something that someone else hasn’t? I’m so in,” she claps and slides into the booth.

 

“Alright, now everyone hold up your fingers,” Karen instructs. “I’ll start us off. Never have I ever… been to a strip club. Male or female.”

 

Jan and Phyllis each put a finger down and take a slurp of their drinks.

 

“Oh man, we need stories,” Karen grins.

 

“I live in Manhattan,” Jan shrugs casually.

 

“Some of my bridesmaids took me out to a male one for a bachelorette party,” Phyllis giggles. “It was a little strange, but the boys were all very nice.”

 

“Alright, me next,” Pam says as she holds up her hands. “Never have I ever been out of the country.”

 

Everyone puts a finger down.

 

“Lame one,” Karen teases. “This is supposed to be about getting dirt on everyone, Pam!”

 

“Oh, right, oops,” Pam shrugs.

 

“Okay, Never have I ever had sex in a car,” Terri says. Pam, Karen and Jan all take a drink.

 

“This is fun,” Phyllis snickers.

 

“Pam! There you are!” Ryan runs up to the table breathlessly.

 

“Whoa, are you okay, Ryan?” Karen asks.

 

“Yeah, well… no. I need help. Michael’s trying to make us drink this disgusting mixture of scotch and Splenda. It smells like vomit. I’m trying to convince him that I’m allergic to Splenda, but he doesn’t believe me,” he pants quickly.

 

“Ryan, there you are!” Michael appears at the table, toting two glasses and a cigar dangling from his lips. “You forgot your beverage.”

 

“Ryan can’t drink that,” Pam says quickly. “Splenda gives him diarrhea, it’s not pretty.”

 

She tries not to laugh when Ryan pinches her elbow.

 

“Yuck, gross. Jan?” He offers the scotch to her, but she waves it away.

 

“Why don’t we join these fine ladies?” Michael decides, climbing clumsily across Phyllis to sit next to Jan. “All my guy’s night ideas got shot down. Oh look! You found Angela!”

 

“Excuse me?” Angela asks dryly. Pam and Karen both tighten their lips.

 

It wasn’t long before the rest of the men wandered into the bar and joined them in the booth.

 

“Oh, here you go, Jim,” Pam stands up, leaving room for him to slide in next to Karen.

 

“Thanks…” he says softly, raising his eyebrows at her in surprise. She follows him into the booth and Ryan takes the seat on the other side of her.

 

“So what are we playing?” Michael asks excitedly. “These guys wouldn’t play any games with me.”

 

“We just didn’t want to play your particular blend of Chuck, Fuck, or Marry, Michael,” Jim sighs.

 

“He was only going to let us choose from people in the room… and we were the only people in the room,” Ryan explains to Pam softly and she nearly spits out her drink.

 

“At least you got to keep your Dundie,” she says, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

 

“We’re playing Never Have I Ever,” Phyllis explains the rules to them quickly.

 

“Okay, Never have I ever… kissed a man,” Stanley says, staring at Michael.

 

“Fine, fine,” Michael sighs and takes a drink. “But that was for educational purposes, just so you know. And all of the women at this table have to drink too! So there.”

 

“Never have I ever kissed a co-worker,” Terri says. Everyone at the table drinks except Stanley and Bob Vance, although Pam notes that Dwight and Angela do so rather discreetly.

 

“Never have I ever kissed a woman,” Jan says. All of the men at the table take a drink, as do Pam and Karen.

 

“Wow, stories,” Jim says loudly and Ryan’s eyes go wide. “This didn’t happen tonight… did it?”

 

“Oh give me a break, it was once in college, just on a dare,” Karen shrugs.

 

“Yeah, mine too,” Pam agrees. “It was no big deal, really.” She decides not to mention that it was Roy and his buddies that had dared her to do it in the first place.

 

“Um, was there… tongue involved?” Ryan presses.

 

Karen and Pam exchange a look and shrug.

 

“Yikes, I… think I need a minute,” Jim breathes loudly.

 

“Think you two might be willing to… do that again later?” Michael ventures and Jan glares at him. “What?”

 

“I have no idea how you haven’t been sued yet,” Jan sighs, taking another drink.

 

Pam just laughs and shakes her head. “Your turn Michael.”

 

“Okay, never have I ever… had sexual relations in the office,” Michael says. “Oh wait, Jan and I made out in my office once, so I guess I get to drink anyway!”

 

Jan sighs loudly and takes a drink.

 

“So this includes kissing?” Pam asks.

 

“Only if it’s like… really making out kissing,” Michael clarifies.

 

Pam takes a drink and watches Jim do the same. Ryan takes a drink next to her.

 

“You too, huh, Ryan?” Michael grins. “A little lip action at the ‘ol office?”

 

“Quite a bit more than that actually,” he grins. “But I’m not saying anything else.”

 

He leans into Pam and whispers into her ear, “Especially because it was in Michael’s office.”

 

“Well… mine was against your old desk,” she whispers back, satisfied with herself when his jaw falls a little.

 

By the time the questions reach Jim, the drinks and fingers are waning significantly.

 

“Okay, never have I ever… cheated on someone,” he says.

 

Pam tightens her lips and takes a sip of her drink. Ryan does the same and she’s relieved to not be the only one.

 

“Now it’s getting juicy,” Michael rubs his palms together.

 

“Actually I’m out,” Ryan shrugs, showing that he’s used up all of his fingers. “I’m going to go get another drink. You want something?” he asks Pam as he stands up.

 

“Um, I’ll come with you,” she nods, glancing back at Jim. “I think I need a break anyways.”

 

As they walk over to the bar she can hear Michael continuing on with the game and she can practically feel Jim’s eyes burning into her back.

 

“What would you like?” Ryan asks her, leaning his elbows against the bar.

 

“Oh!” she realizes suddenly. “What are those things when you drop the shot into the glass and then drink the whole thing? What’s that called? I’ve always wanted to try that.”

 

“Oh like a car bomb?” he laughs. “Yeah we could do that… what do you want, Irish or Canadian?”

 

“What’s the difference?”

 

“Well, one involves Guinness and a shot of whiskey and Bailey’s, but if you don’t drink it fast enough it kind of curdles and tastes disgusting. The other is just whiskey in beer.”

 

“Uh… let’s do the second one. I might not be able to drink it that fast,” she laughs.

 

Once the beers and the shots are set in front of her she starts to feel a nervous flutter in her stomach.

 

“Is this going to be hard?” she asks tentatively.

 

“Nah, you’re a champ,” he winks at her. “I think you’ll be fine.”

 

“Ryan! What are you doing over there??” Michael yells from the table.

 

“Car bomb,” Ryan answers back, holding up the glass.

 

“Oh, Ryan’s really good at those,” Dwight nods, remembering his own failure. “Pam! Relax the throat! You’ve got to relax your throat!”

 

“Wow, that’s what she said,” Karen giggles.

 

“I’ll count it off for you guys!” Dwight is still yelling to them above the music.

 

“No, no, let me do it!” Michael protests. “Okay, One! Two!”

 

“Three!” Dwight jumps in at the last second and Michael glares at him.

 

Pam quickly drops the shot in and brings the glass to her lips. She’s never been a great beer drinker, but it seems to go down with surprising ease, despite the volume. She glances over to Ryan, who looks surprised that she’s actually giving him a run for his money.

 

After a few more gulps she slams her glass down on the bar, just a fraction of a second after Ryan.

 

“Holy shit,” he says breathlessly. “That’s it, I’m officially impressed.”

 

“That’s all it takes with you, huh?” she grins, wiping her lips with the back of her hand.

 

“Well, that, and…” his eyes roam downwards, obviously focused on the skirt she is wearing.

 

“Oh, that,” she explains anxiously. “Karen lent it to me.”

 

“I’ll remember to thank Karen then,” he says softly and then looks away embarrassed, like he cannot believe that he just said that out loud. “I mean… you know, remember to compliment her because, uh… yeah."

 

"Right, of course," she agrees quickly, averting his eyes.

As they reach the table Dwight leans over and gives her an enthusiastic high-five and she gives a little bow.

 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” Pam laughs as Ace of Base’s ‘The Sign’ begins to play. “Who’s DJ’ing this place, 1994?”

 

“Oh no, this song is way too good to waste,” Ryan says, holding out his hand to her.

 

“You want to dance? To this?” she asks skeptically.

 

“Could you even think of a better song?” he jokes.

 

She hesitates for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip.

 

“Pam doesn’t really dance,” Jim speaks up loudly. She turns her head to meet his eyes and he shrugs innocently.

 

“Actually, I think you’re right, Ryan,” she says and takes his hand. “This song is way too good to waste.”

 

He pulls her out onto the nearly empty dance floor, spinning her around once in the process. Luckily, Ryan turns out to be just as terrible of a dancer as she considers herself to be, and he doesn’t seem to care either way.

 

She can’t help but laugh watching him do the infamous “white guy head bob” to the music.

 

“Oh come on, you can do better than that,” he says, watching her bounce tentatively on her heels. “I saw you at Diwali.”

 

She can’t help but laugh and she raises her hands up, waving them in the air to the beat.

 

“That better?” she laughs, wondering how impossibly ridiculous she must look.

 

“Much.”

 

“You know,someone once told me that this song is about some girl realizing that her boyfriend is gay,” she laughs over the music.

 

“Really?” he considers. “Think it’s about Michael?”

 

She falls into him laughing and he gently grabs a hold of her arms to steady her.

 

“Ace of Base was just so ahead of its time, they were poets really,” he says, trying to keep a straight face. “Like, what was that song about the baby?”

 

“All That She Wants!”

 

“Yeah, what was that about?” he asks. “I mean, in my head I was thinking it was about some baby snatching woman. I still have no idea what they meant by that.”

 

“You’re right,” she nods gravely. “They were truly under appreciated.”

 

“Misunderstood,” he adds.

 

She bounces around lightly to the music, thankful for the warmth of the alcohol in her stomach. Suddenly the song changes to something unmistakably eighties and much more resembling a power ballad.

 

“Wow, we really have traveled back in time haven’t we?” he laughs.

 

“Yeah… yikes, want to go sit down?” she turns to head back towards the table.

 

“Um… not quite yet,” he says, reaching out and catching her hand, pulling her towards him. “I like this song too.”

 

“Journey? Really?” she giggles as he puts a hand on her waist and lessens the space between them. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you?”

 

“You have no idea,” he grins.

 

They fit together easily and he’s taller than her, but not so tall that her arms are uncomfortable or that she has to crane her neck just to look at him. One of his hands is resting against the small of her back, the other holding her hand against his chest. It’s the way grown-ups dance, really.

 

She can’t help but think back to Phyllis’ wedding and how Karen and Jim danced like they were at a middle school sock-hop, with teachers running around measuring the amount of space between their hips, reminding them constantly to “Keep room for the Holy Spirit.” She wonders for a moment if Angela might be thinking that to herself right now.

 

Jim is making no secret of staring at her and part of her wishes that she were facing the other direction. But then again, part of her doesn’t.

 

“You’ve got very long fingers,” Ryan observes, examining her hand in his.

 

“Yeah… I know, its weird,” she says, the nervous flutter returning. “My friends used to call me E.T.”

 

“Well, I like it,” he shrugs, squeezing her hand gently.

 

She finds that she has difficulty swallowing and decides to focus on something other than his eyes, or her hand, or Jim in the booth a few feet away. Her gaze instead settles on his shoulder.

 

There’s a stray thread that’s barely sticking out from the fabric of his shirt and she finds herself focusing almost entirely on that singular piece of string. Wondering if he’s noticed it before, or how old the shirt is, or what might happen if she were to tug on it.

 

“You okay?” he asks softly, breaking her out of her thread-induced trance.

 

“Oh, yeah, every thing’s fine,” she answers quickly as the embarrassing notion of being practically the only two people on the dance floor with half of her office sitting a few feet away begins to settle in.

 

He looks at her intently like he doesn’t believe her and she thinks she catches him glancing back towards the table.

 

“Really, it’s nothing,” she says again and this time he seems to accept it. His eyes are still focused in on hers and suddenly she’s struck with a sort of prom-like panic that maybe he wants to kiss her.

 

She breaks his gaze quickly, settling her forehead against his shoulder as he moves his hands so that they are both now resting on the small of her back, pulling her even closer against him.

 

His cheek is surprisingly rough against her own and she wonders if he has shaved his face since they first stepped onto the ship. A few seconds pass before she notices that he’s humming along to the tune of ‘Faithfully.’ The vibrations pulse against her skin and somehow she finds that it eases her nerves slightly.

 

After a few bars of music she lifts her head to look at him again and he seems to realize what he’s doing without her having to say a word.

 

“Sorry,” he smiles. “I’m completely tone-deaf. I’ll stop, I promise.

 

She bites her lip for a moment, considering him. “Don’t,” she says softly, and settles back against his shoulder.

 

She smiles when he begins to hum again, the sensation of it warming her cheek and making her almost forget about everything around her. His fingers are still on her back, tracing slow shapes against the fabric of her shirt in time with the music. She hasn’t danced like this since Phyllis’ wedding, and it comforts and almost surprises her that she doesn’t have that same desperate and anxious feeling cloaking her as she had that evening.

 

She grips his shoulders more tightly, her fingers digging into him like she needs to hold on to him just to help her stay afloat. She’s not sure why she does it, but it helps somehow and his arms clasp tighter around her waist. She feels safe and sure for the first time in months. Maybe even years.

 

In that moment she remembers the table and the people and the bar and… She glances over Ryan’s shoulder and sees Jim, who isn’t looking at her anymore, just staring into his beer glass as though he’s not surrounded by the bustling chatter of half a dozen people. As though he’s not seated next to his girlfriend of six long months. As though if he breaks his attention from that glass, he’ll regret it.

 

The song ends and she pulls back, breaking from him quickly and making her way back to the table.

 

“Pam, Angela was not hiding,” Michael shakes his head at her as she sits down. “You lied to me.”

 

“Oh um, I did?” Pam stutters and she and Karen exchange a nervous glance.

 

“So, I think we should play Hide and Seek for real!” Michael says happily. “Before dinner?”

 

Stanley and Terri decline and head off to spend some time alone before dinner, and Jan says she is going to go shower, but everyone else around the table warily agrees, giving in to Michael's enthusiasm.

 

“Okay, let’s have people be It in teams of two, and only on this floor! Otherwise it’ll be impossible,” Michael explains. “Ryan? You’re with me. We’re It.”

 

Ryan nods gravely and Pam can’t help but laugh.

 

Soon Michael has his eyes closed and is making Ryan count loudly as everyone else disperses out of the bar.

 

Pam quickly jogs down the hallway, searching for an open door, a supply closet… anything really. She gets lucky when she stumbles upon an unlocked cleaning closet and ducks inside.

 

Standing there in the dark she begins to wonder why every time she has ever played this game, as soon she finds a hiding spot she starts really needing to pee. It’s excruciatingly uncomfortable and she’s just about to give up on hiding altogether when the door swings open.

 

It’s Jim.

 

“Hey,” he says breathlessly, glancing into the hallway behind him. “I, um... need a place to hide.”

 

He doesn’t really ask, just jumps inside and closes the door behind them. The closest isn’t really built for two, especially when one of those two is over six-feet tall, and they both end up fumbling blindly in the dark, bumping against one another as they try to carve out a place to stand. The space small enough that there is less than a foot of space separating them in the dark, and she catches herself counting every time he takes a breath.

 

At least five minutes pass in silence and Pam reaches the point when she can’t very well take it any longer without going insane.

 

“Maybe I should go find somewhere else…” she starts, reaching for the door handle.

 

“Don’t,” he whispers, putting his arm out in front of her, blocking her escape.

 

“I should,” she says, attempting to duck underneath his outstretched arm. Instead of the graceful exit she had hoped for, her foot catches on a plastic bucket and she finds herself tumbling squarely against Jim’s chest.

 

She leans there for a moment, frozen in embarrassment and then attempts to right herself.

 

“Wait,” he says softly, and she can feel his hands on her shoulders, holding her gently against him.

 

“Jim…” she sighs, unable to think of another response. His fingers are gripping her arms as though he’s afraid of what might happen if he lets her go.

 

“Don't go,” he breathes. And, although she can’t see it, she can tell that his mouth is close because the words are hot against her skin.

 

“Jim… I…” she trails off, unsure of what else to say.

 

There are voices in the hallway. One is unmistakably Michael, leaving her to assume that Ryan is with him.

 

She reaches for the door handle and his hand catches her wrist, stopping her.

 

“Just. Wait,” he whispers, his fingers holding her in place.

 

She pauses, looking up at where she thinks his eyes are in the dark.

 

“For what?” she asks. She waits for a moment, listening to him breath, and she knows that he has nothing to say.

 

“Yeah,” she sighs. “That’s what I thought.”

 

His fingers release her, and she reaches for the handle.

“Pam, wait,” Jim’s saying, but she opens the door anyway, light flooding across her face and stinging her eyes.

 

She can’t seem to get out of the closet fast enough, tripping in the process.

 

“Whoa, careful,” Ryan catches her, laughing. “You know, I don’t think jumping out of a closet is the best method of hiding… Have you ever played this game before, Pam?”

 

“We’ve got a live one!” Michael says loudly as Jim steps out of the closet as well. Something in Pam’s stomach begins to ache.

 

Her eyes flit to Ryan and he looks away quickly, letting go of her once she’s steadily on her feet again.

 

“So, wait… if we found you guys first, who’s It next? Jim or Pam? Or both?” Michael asks, obviously very confused.

 

“I guess both,” Ryan shrugs. He’s still not looking at her and she realizes suddenly that maybe she wants him to.

 

She glances over at Jim and she can’t quite place the look on his face, but she can only describe it as… smug.

 

“Um, I’m actually not feeling that well,” she explains quickly. “I think I’m going to head back to my room.”

 

“Party pooper,” Michael shakes his head as she walks away down the hall.

 

“Pam!” she can hear Jim calling after her. She doesn’t turn around.

 

Once she’s out of their sight she practically runs back to her room, closing the door quickly behind her before collapsing on her bed.

 

She can still feel the pressure of Jim’s fingertips against her arm, the weight of Ryan’s eyes on hers. She’s still a bit tipsy and with all of the running she feels a little nauseous too.

 

Pam stumbles into her tiny bathroom, her hand fumbling to turn the water on, hoping to sober herself up a bit before having to face everyone again at dinner. She slips out of her clothes quickly, stepping into the steam and letting the hot water wash over her skin.

 

She’s only just finished rinsing the shampoo from her hair when she hears a knock on the bedroom door. She considers not answering it, but the knocking persists and so she turns the water off and reaches for her bathrobe, giving her sopping wet hair a quick once over with a towel.

 

“Oh… hey,” she says, still toweling off her hair as she pulls the door open.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you…? Um, I can come back,” he says quickly.

 

“No, no, it’s okay,” she shakes her head. “Come in, sit.”

 

Ryan takes a seat on the only chair in the tiny room and she sits down on the edge of the bed, adjusting her bathrobe uneasily.

 

“Um, I just wanted to… Are you alright?” His voice is uneasy and hesitant, like he’s never asked a girl what’s wrong before.

 

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Totally,” she says too quickly.

 

“I didn’t mean to… You know, its fine. Really. I don’t want you to think that I’m…” He stumbles, grasping for the words that he can’t find. “I mean, I’m not trying to…”

 

“I know,” she says, hoping that he understands. “But, that was nothing. I mean it really was.”

 

“I should…” he points to the door and then to her and then to the door again like the words are stuck, trapped somewhere in his head.

 

“Yeah, right, sure,” she says. “Um… you don’t have to. Go, I mean. You could… stay.”

 

“Alright,” he nods and looks down at his hands as if he’s not sure where else to.

 

“I’m just going to… dry my hair. You can watch TV?” she suggests, tossing him the remote.

 

She tightens the cloth belt around her waist to further ensure that nothing is going to… slip out, and pulls out her hair dryer. The TV isn’t loud, but she can hear something about Nazis and deduces that Ryan’s probably watching the History Channel.

 

The bathroom is too small to comfortably blow-dry with the door closed, so she leaves it open instead, calling out an apology for it being loud, although she can’t quite hear his response over the noise of the machine.

 

She considers taking the time to straighten her hair. It’s been a while since she’s attempted it, but it takes time that she probably doesn’t have. Peeking out of the tiny bathroom, she can see that Ryan has already drifted to sleep, stretched out across the bed.

 

She decides to straighten it.

 

As predicted, the ordeal takes some time, but Ryan seems fast asleep so she doesn’t worry about making him wait on her. She walks out into the room and picks the clothes she was wearing earlier off of the edge of the bed. The bathroom is much too small to even attempt to change in, but she would probably die of embarrassment if Ryan woke up to find her changing right there in front of him.

 

After a few minutes she decides to hell with it, and turns her back to him, slipping quickly out of her robe. She dresses as quickly as she possibly can, pulling Karen’s skirt back onto her hips. She considers forsaking the skirt altogether for something a little more conservative, but knows that Karen will probably just drag her back and force her to change again if she even tries.

 

Thankfully, once she’s dressed Ryan still hasn’t moved, so she crawls tentatively across the bed, poking him once to see if he wakes up. He moves his arm a little, but doesn’t open his eyes. She leans carefully over him, blowing softly against his face. His hand comes up, brushing his nose as though he is swatting at a bug. She covers her mouth, trying not to laugh and leans a little closer.

 

“Ryaan,” she whispers, attempting her best Michael-imitating-Michael Jackson voice. “This is Michael… why are you sleeping in my bed? Did you want to cuuddle?”

With that, his eyes fly open and he grabs her suddenly around the waist, tickling her mercilessly.

 

“No! I was just kidding!” she breathes between laughs and tries to scramble away from him.

 

“Not so fast, Michael,” he says, pulling her back down on the bed so that he’s now hovering over her and tickling her side so much that she worries she might start hyperventilating.

 

“Uncle! Uncle!” she chokes out and he lets up.

 

“Pathetic,” he shakes his head. “I expected you to hold out for at least a few minutes.”

 

“Well, I’m so sorry to disappoint you,” she smiles up at him.

 

An uncomfortable silence settles in the space between them as they both realize that he’s still leaning half on top of her.

 

“Sorry,” he says softly like he’s going to move. He doesn’t.

 

She reaches her hand to his shirt, gathering a fistful of fabric in her palm, and pulls him down to meet her lips. He doesn’t wait for more encouragement than that before his hands are in her hair and he’s answering her with his tongue.

 

And its not Roy’s callused fingers that are on her skin, or Jim’s chapped lips on hers, and she isn’t lost in that drunken, lonely haze that she was in with that guy from Ryan’s business school. His lips are soft in the way that Jim’s couldn’t be, and his eyes are blue in the way that Roy’s just weren’t.

 

“You did something with your hair,” he breathes against the skin of her neck, and all she can think to do is nod.

 

She finds his lips again and threads her fingers through the thickness of his hair, tugging just enough to let him know how much she really wants this. If only everything could be this easy.

 

There’s a loud knock on the door and Phyllis’ muffled voice is asking if she’s ready to go to dinner. Ryan practically leaps to his feet and she sits straight up on the bed, trying to catch her breath.

 

“Um, I’m just… getting changed!” she calls to her. “I’ll meet you up there!”

 

She doesn’t dare to even look at Ryan until Phyllis agrees and she can hear her retreating down the hallway. When she finally does, he’s looking back at her, waiting for her to say something, except that his hair is sticking out everywhere and his lips are all flushed and she finds herself breaking down into a fit of laughter.

 

“Wait, what’s so funny?” he asks, sounding a little bit offended, but he’s laughing as well. “Not a good look for me?”

 

“No, it’s not that,” she’s still laughing and shaking her head. “Well… okay, maybe it’s a little bit that.”

 

He sighs, throwing his hands up a little in defeat before trying to tame his hair with his hands. She sits on the edge of the bed, slipping on her shoes, and she can see his feet walking over to her, stopping in front of her. His hand reaches out and touches her chin, lifting it gently so that she’s looking up at him.

 

He leans down and kisses her once softly on the lips and pulls back, his eyes searching hers like he’s looking for the answer to a question he hasn’t asked. She finds herself unable to hold his gaze for long and looks away, focusing on her shoes.

 

“Pam, listen,” he says. “I don’t want you to think… I mean I’m not… expecting anything here. Nothing has to happen. I mean, we're on this... boat, and it's just fun, right?”

 

She returns the thought with a tight-lipped smile and a nod before taking his hand, letting him help her to her feet. There’s something nagging at her, a feeling that she can’t quite place and as she follows him out of the room, she wonders whether or not she can tell the difference between relief and disappointment.

 

They walk side by side down the hallway in relative silence until she can’t take it any longer.

 

“I’m having fun,” she says to him, because she is, and because she hasn’t for a long time now.

 

“Me too,” he smiles again. He reaches out and takes her hand, twining his fingers with hers.

 

“Wait,” he says suddenly, looking over at her. “Is this weird? It’s weird, right?”

 

He begins to let go of her hand, but she holds on, squeezing his.

 

“It’s okay,” she says. They walk the rest of the way in mostly silence, with the occasional commentary on other passengers that they happen to walk past.

 

He lets go of her hand as they are about to enter the dining room, giving her a look that tells her he’s just trying to avoid the shit-storm that would surely ensue.

 

She knows he means Jim, but he says “Michael.” And, for that, she’s sort of grateful toward him.

 

When they arrive at the table, Dwight is in mid-conversation explaining how to whittle a convincing armoire from a decaying tree trunk and Angela is laughing. Yes, laughing. Pam notes the two empty martini glasses sitting in front of her and realizes that tonight may turn out to be pretty interesting after all.

 

Jim looks up as she takes her seat next to Karen, obviously noticing her and Ryan’s simultaneous late arrivals.

 

“Sorry, I had to shower,” she says to no one in particular, and Karen raises her eyes in Ryan’s direction.

 

The chatter around the table resumes and Michael uses his digital camera to take “candid” shots of everyone for the newsletter.

 

“Michael, what ever happened to that camcorder you brought?” Phyllis asks as he nearly blinds her and Bob Vance with the flash.

 

“Oh, that,” he sighs regretfully. “I’m pretty sure Jan hid it.”

 

“Michael, for the last time, I did not hide your camcorder,” she says sharply.

 

“Well then why won’t you let me look through your bag?? Huh, Jan?” Michael pouts.

 

"Michael, please," she silences him and he goes back to fiddling with his camera.

 

As the dinner continues, Pam distracts herself from Michael’s whining and Dwight’s slightly tipsy attempts to lecture her on maritime law by having a side-conversation with Karen about which Oscar-nominated movies they have and haven’t seen yet.

 

“Oh no,” Ryan sighs beside her.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asks him, Karen turning her attention to him as well.

 

“Well, I can’t seem to reach that pepper over there,” he points to the shaker on the other end of the table. “My fingers aren’t long enough. Would you mind helping me out, E.T?”

 

Pam jabs him hard in the ribcage with her elbow, but she’s laughing all the same. “Hey, that’s so not fair. You owe me one totally embarrassing high school nickname.”

 

“Like, right now?” he asks, and she nods ardently.

 

“Okay, well,” he leans into her. “Some people used to… call me Frodo.”

 

“What??” she laughs, nearly spitting out her food.

 

“You know, because of the height thing. Not because I have hairy feet or anything,” he laughs. “Yeah, mine is totally more embarrassing than yours. I should not have told you that.”

 

“Oh no,” she shakes her head, grinning from ear to ear. “You should have. You definitely should have.”

 

Jim ignores her for most of the meal and for once, she doesn’t really mind. The food is long gone and they are on their third round of drinks when Ryan’s hand settles on her knee underneath the table.

 

“Guys, you’ll never believe it!” Michael shouts, running back from the bar. “They’re having karaoke tonight!”

 

“Ooh, I want to sing Bon Jovi this time,” Phyllis says excitedly.

 

"Guys? Karaoke??" he asks, searching their faces for an ounce of enthusiasm. "Stanley? We could do a little 'Ebony and Ivory'!"

 

"I am not singing with you Michael," Stanley shakes his head slowly, but Terri prompts him to follow the group anyway.

 

"Jan, we should sing 'I've Got You, Babe,'" Michael is saying as he leads the group to the other side of the room. "No? What about 'Puppy Love'? Ryan told me that Paul Anka is still really big up North..."

 

Once she can't hear Michael any longer she realizes that she's left at the table with only Dwight, Angela, Karen, Jim, and Ryan. On top of that, she's running low on her drink.

“I think Dwight’s drunk,” Karen leans over to whisper to her. As she does so, she notices where Ryan’s hand is and she nudges Pam a little in the shoulder.

 

“You guys, working at Dunder-Mifflin is really great huh?” Dwight asks dreamily. “I really… like it.”

 

“It has its moments,” Angela says. She’s leaning into Dwight just enough that Pam knows she’s had a little too much to drink.

 

“We’ve been together for soo long,” Dwight continues. “Except Karen, you’re pretty new. But that’s okay. And I guess Ryan… because he’s the… temp.”

 

“I’m not a temp anymore, Dwight,” Ryan reminds him and Pam covers a laugh.

 

“That’s right!” Dwight gasps. “I’m so so so sorry. You’re at Jim’s desk… you sit right next to me!”

 

“Yep, you got it,” he nods, not even bothering to correct him.

 

“And Jim… and Pam,” Dwight grins, going off on a tangent. “You guys are like… Mulder and Scully, you know that?”

 

“What?” Karen asks dryly.

 

“Pam is a good friend,” Angela nods, obviously not listening to whatever Dwight’s saying.

 

“Like, from the X-files?” Jim asks, obviously confused.

 

“Yeah,” Dwight nods. “You know what I mean?”

 

“No, not at all,” Jim rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to his drink.

 

“No, really,” Dwight insists. “Like, all of that unrequited…ness. Tension. You know what I mean?”

 

“Dwight,” Angela says to him sternly.

 

“Sorry, Monkey,” Dwight grins at her.

 

“Wait, who’s Monkey?” Jim narrows his eyes at them.

 

"Oops," Dwight giggles a little into his glass. Angela rolls her eyes.

 

“Are you guys…?” Karen’s mouth hangs open.

 

“Shhh,” Dwight shakes his head with his finger to his lips. “Don’t tell.”

 

Pam and Ryan can’t hold in their laughter and Jim and Karen turn their attention to them instead.

 

“You knew??” Jim asks Pam.

 

“Oh, I’ve known for… some time,” Pam winks at Angela, who is blushing.

 

"Can we please... not talk about this?" Angela says sternly. "Its certainly not anyone's business."

 

"It might be Toby's business," Karen chuckles.

 

"Well, Toby won't be hearing about any of this, will he?" Angela glares at her and Karen immediately looks uncomfortable.

“You know, Mulder and Scully never got together on that show,” Dwight continues on his earlier ramble, completely oblivious to the rest of the conversation. “What do you think that means?”

 

“Um, I’m actually going to go to the bathroom I think,” Pam says quickly, growing increasingly uncomfortable with where his train of thought seems to be leading him.

 

“Yeah, I kind of need to go too,” Ryan says, excusing himself from the table.

 

The restrooms are located in the back of a very dimly lit hallway and, as soon as they reach it, Ryan’s hands are on her hips and her back is against the wall. He kisses her like he’s been waiting to do nothing else for the last few hours. He tastes like beer.

 

“What are you doing?” she says, not really caring what the answer is.

 

“I couldn’t wait,” he breathes, his lips crashing against hers again. The wall she’s leaning against is covered in some sort of weird wall carpeting and for a brief moment she finds herself wondering whether her hair will be full of static when she finally pulls away from it. But then Ryan’s tongue is against hers and she finds herself forgetting about the wall altogether.

 

There’s a cough at the entrance to the hallway and Ryan pulls away from her quickly.

 

“Mind if I get by?” Jim asks. His voice is flat, like he’s being purposefully calm.

 

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Pam says quickly, dashing for the safety of that little skirt-wearing symbol on the door. She’s almost completely inside when she sees that Ryan is actually following Jim into the Men’s room.

 

She paces quickly on the tile, wondering what the hell could be going on in there, imagining the awkwardness of those two standing there, pissing in adjoining urinals. Would Jim say something? Would Ryan?

 

She thinks she might start to hyperventilate, going as far as actually pressing her ear against the wall in a feeble attempt to hear if they are speaking to one another. Isn’t she supposed to use a glass for this? She thinks she remembers something about a glass. It doesn’t really matter though, because she certainly doesn’t have one on hand.

 

Pam forgets about needing to go to the bathroom entirely and walks back into the hall. Maybe she could hear something there.

 

When the door swings open she nearly jumps out of her skin. It’s Ryan.

 

“Yeah man, no problem,” he’s saying sarcastically. “Good talk.”

 

“Hey,” she says softly, unaware why she has this heavy feeling of guilt on her shoulders. “Everything… okay?”

 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he says a little curtly, glancing back at the now-closed door. “Fantastic.”

 

“Oh,” she says, wringing her hands together nervously. He looks at her and his attitude seems to soften again all at once.

 

“Sorry, it’s fine, really,” he says, taking her hand. “Let’s go back to the table?”

 

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” she nods, glancing once back at the door.

 

Jim doesn’t come back for about ten minutes and, when he does, he resumes his previous stance of looking at anything but her.

 

From across the room she can hear Michael singing a horrifying rendition of 'Puppy Love' and for some reason it feels like that idiotic song is the perfectly ironic soundtrack to the continuing downward spiral of the evening.

 

She notices that Dwight's gotten sloppy enough that his arm is looped around Angela's waist, which she surprisingly doesn't seem to mind.

 

Pam takes a long, final sip of the drink in her hand and wonders when the hell she started feeling jealous of Dwight and Angela.

Pam can hear Phyllis at the other end of the room, serenading her husband with her own rendition of ‘Wanted Dead or Alive’ as she waits patiently for the bartender to mix her a rum and Coke.

 

“Is that all, Pam?” Bill the bartender slides the glass across the counter top. 

 

“Actually,” she pauses, glancing back at the table and at Ryan.  “How about something that’s, I don’t know… not too girly, if you know what I mean?”

 

Bill laughs.  “Sure thing, pretty lady.  How about a vodka tonic?”

 

“That sounds great,” she nods, taking a sip from her own straw.  

 

“Hey, tell you what,” he says to her.  “Why don’t you come back behind the bar and I’ll let you make it yourself?”

 

“Really?” she narrows her eyes at him.  “Isn’t it just, like… vodka and tonic water?”

 

“Mixology is a science, Pam,” he says, lifting up the partition to allow her to come through.   “I’ll teach you.”

 

“I guess,” she shrugs and ducks behind the bar.   As she does so she can see Jim walk up to the bar, sitting a few seats away, obviously not wanting to be anywhere near her. 

 

“I’ll be with you in one second, sir,” Bill says to him before turning his attention back to Pam.  He pulls a glass down and sets it in front of her, handing her the vodka and the spray nozzle of tonic water, instructing her how much of each to put in. 

 

“This spray thing is actually kind of fun.”  She smiles, filling the glass to the brim.

 

“What can I get you, sir?” he asks Jim.  “Before this lovely young woman steals my job away.”

 

“Uh, I’ll have whatever.  Something with whiskey,” he shrugs. 

 

“How about a seven and seven?” Bill suggests and turns to Pam.  “You want to fix that one up too?”

 

“I’d rather not,” she says coolly, her eyes locking on Jim’s.

 

“Oh come on, sweetie,” Bill says, his hand landing squarely on her ass.  “You were doing so well.”

 

“Hey!” she jumps back a few steps.  “What the hell??”

 

“Listen, asshole,” Jim stands up, leaning over the bar like he wants to smash the guy’s face in.

 

“I can handle this myself, Jim,” she snaps at him.

 

“Don’t you even…” Jim says to the guy, like he hasn’t even heard her. 

 

“Jim,” she glares at him.  He looks back at her angrily, but shuts up anyway.  “Do you have a manager around here anywhere, Bill?  Because you can bet that I’ll be mentioning this to one of your superiors.  Don’t ever even think about touching me again.” 

 

With that, she ducks back out from behind the bar, grabbing her drinks, and walks swiftly back to the table.

 

“That?  Was kind of hot,” Ryan leans over to whisper as she sits down. 

 

“What?  That guy harassing me?” she laughs, handing him the drink.

 

“No, the way you totally put that guy in his place,” he grins.  She smiles back, but she's not positive which of the guys he is referring to. 

 

“Pam, would you like me to go… take care of him?” Dwight asks seriously as Jim sits down. 

 

“He’s very strong,” Angela nods, smiling up at him.  “Capable.”

 

“No, it’s really okay,” she shakes her head.  “I can handle myself, but thanks.”

 

Ryan’s obviously nearing the point of intoxication because he leans over and kisses her on the cheek, letting his arm snake around her waist.  She’s buzzed enough to dare a glance at Jim and, when she does, he’s staring right back at her.  

 

Beside him, Karen has been reduced to a fit of giggles and she finds herself laughing because this new Karen seems so different from the  working Karen that she's used to.  She wonders if this is what she is like when she and Jim are alone together and Karen pinches her arm before settling her weight against Jim’s side.
 

 

“Pam,” Angela whispers to her loudly.  “Can I talk to you for a second? Privately?”

 

She’s pretty sure that she already knows what Angela is going to say, but she agrees anyway and begins to stand up. 

 

“Before you go,” Ryan says, pulling her into him and kissing her deeply, his mouth now potent with the taste of the too-strong vodka-tonic she just fixed for him. 

 

Karen’s clapping and whooping beside her, saying something like “I totally just saw tongue!” and for some reason she feels like  she's been transported to some college frat house. 

 

Angela grabs onto her hand and pulls her quickly away from the table, leading her to an empty booth a safe distance away. 

 

“What’s so urgent?” she sighs, sitting down next to her. 

 

“You’re being awfully flirtatious with the temp,” Angela shakes her head disapprovingly.   “I think you need to stop and re-examine this situation before you make an irreversible mistake.”

 

“Excuse me?” she laughs, but Angela is dead serious.   “Well, he isn’t a temp any more.”

 

“Semantics,” Angela sighs.  “Dwight tells me that he’s a horrible salesman, Pam.  He hasn’t even made one sale yet.  Not one!  He’s going nowhere and you shouldn’t get dragged along for the ride.”

 

“I’m not attracted to men based on their sales numbers,” Pam crosses her arms.  “Besides, it’s not like I’m marrying the guy.  I’m just having a little fun, what’s the harm in that?”

 

“Either way, he’s completely disrespectful!” Angela continues. “I caught him and Kelly practically fornicating at that silly Indian prom thing, and her parents were only a room away.  It was shameful to say the least.  Absolutely disgusting.”

 

“Well, I’ll be sure to wash my hands then,” Pam rolls her eyes.

 

“I think you are about to upset the very delicate balance of this office, I’m just trying to warn you ahead of time,” Angela says.

 

“Oh, so I’m just supposed to stay miserable to keep everyone else happy?” she asks, and she sees Angela’s expression soften. 

 

“I’m sorry, Pam,” she sighs.  “I shouldn’t have intruded.  I just consider you a friend, that’s all.”

 

Pam’s actually surprised by her sincerity and suddenly regrets snapping at her.  “No, its okay, really.  Thanks for looking out for me.”

 

“I think we have something kind of special, don’t you?” Angela smiles at her, and she can’t help but nod.

 

“Angela, when you and Dwight… found each other,” Pam asks nervously.  “Was it… difficult?  I mean, you guys are so different.”

 

“Actually,” Angela considers the thought for a moment.  “When it… happened, it was surprisingly simple.  Like he made everything make sense.  I’ve let my… beliefs come between myself and men in the past, but I think it was just the right person and the right time.”

 

Angela trails off; gazing back at the table and Pam feels that stab of jealousy again in the pit of her stomach.

 

Things with Roy had been convenient, yes, but never exactly easy in any respects except for the bedroom.  And things with Jim... did she even have something with Jim?  Could she call it that?  Whatever it was, it wasn't easy and, for the past year or so, practically nothing had actually made sense to her.

 

She walks with Angela back towards the table and Ryan and Jim both look up from their drinks.  Karen gives her a little wave.  No, nothings ever easy. 
 

 

When they reach the table, Pam realizes that Karen’s prodding Dwight for more information on his X-files theory.

 

“But, Dwight, I’m pretty sure they did get together at the end, didn’t they?”

 

“I know,” he sighs.  “But that’s after I stopped watching, so I discount those seasons in my mind.  Maybe resolving unresolved sexual tension is a curse on a show like that.  Like on our show.  We have a show… sort of.  That's why Angela and I have kept our love a secret."

 

"That makes no sense," Karen rolls her eyes at him.
 

 

“Hey, Angela,” Pam says loudly as she sits down, hoping desperately to change the topic of conversation.  “Ryan and I were having this really interesting conversation earlier about evolution.”

 

“We were?” he raises his eyebrows at her.

 

“Yeah, we were watching the Discovery Channel… remember?”

 

“Oh, right, of course.  That show we were watching,” he nods in agreement.  “About… sharks.”

 

“Evolution is a theory,” Angela says sharply. 

 

“Gravity is a theory too.  Does that mean it isn’t true?” Dwight asks, becoming successfully distracted from his earlier ramble.

 

Pam can’t help but feel bad at what she started as she watches them squabble drunkenly about the origins of mankind. 

 

“But it’s so far-fetched, I mean he didn’t even make light first, he  made all the planets and stuff in the dark,” Dwight’s saying.

 

“You think that’s far-fetched?  A few weeks ago you had me buying cloves of garlic at the store because you were convinced that Jim was undead!” Angela snaps back. 

 

Pam finds herself glancing over to Ryan, who is staring at the two of them like he’s watching a horrifying car wreck.

 

“Oh, Monkey,” Dwight grins suddenly, tapping her nose with his finger.  “You’re adorable.  I forgot why we don’t talk about church stuff.”

 

Angela’s face immediately softens and she doesn’t even bother to try and hide the smile on her face.

 

“You guys are great together,” Karen sighs wistfully, leaning against Jim’s shoulder.

 

"Wow, you're drunk," Jim shakes his head a little, but he's smiling just the same.
 

 

“Dwight K. Schrute, you are needed at the microphone immediately,” Michael’s saying across the room.  “I need my wingman!”

 

“Come on,” Dwight tugs on Angela’s arm.  “I want to serenade you.”

 

“Alright,” Angela rolls her eyes, following him out of the booth.  “But no Motley Crue, I’m serious this time.”

 

“And then there were four,” Karen giggles as Jim takes a drink.

 

“Ryan Howard, please report to the mike,” Michael interrupts from across the room in his most convincing robot-voice. 

 

Ryan slumps down in the booth immediately.  “Tell him I’m dead.”

 

“He’s in the bathroom, Michael!” Pam calls behind her as the opening chords of ‘You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feeling’ begin to play.

 

Ryan mouths a ‘thank you’ to her, but stays slid down in his seat lest Michael comes looking for him.  Karen starts going on about what an awesome movie Top Gun is, wondering why Tom Cruise had to go and ruin it by becoming such a freak. 

 

“I think you just like any movie with fighter planes in it,” Jim says to her. 

 

“Ooh, like Independence Day?” Pam jumps in sarcastically.  “Fighter pilots saving the world!”

 

“Hey, don’t knock that movie,” Ryan shakes his head seriously.  “It has perhaps one of the best and most ridiculous Presidential speeches in film history.”

 

“I think you’re thinking of Armageddon,” Pam says.  “That speech is so much better.”

 

“Are you kidding me??” Ryan gapes at her.  “It’s Bill Pullman! Or… wait, Bill Paxton?  Whatever, anyway, its totally the most ethnocentric and enjoyable thing ever.  ‘We will not go quietly into the night… because today we celebrate our Independence Day!’  I mean, come on, that’s some good old American spirit for you.”

 

“Oh please,” Pam rolls her eyes.  “How about the fact that in Armageddon they show that everyone around the globe is listening to the President of the United States giving a speech??”

 

“Are you trying to go head to head with me on this, Beesly?” Ryan challenges her.  “Because I’ll win.  I guarantee it.”

 

“Oh, it’s on, Howard,” she says. 

 

The last names seem to be a little too much for Jim to handle and he puts his glass down hard, accidentally spilling it across the table, with the bulk of it splashing across Karen’s shirt.

 

“Oh no,” she frowns. 

 

“Yikes… sorry, really… sorry,” Jim stammers, trying to clean up the mess with a stack of rapidly disintegrating napkins.

 

“I think I’m going to go run up to the room and change,” Karen decides, sliding out of the booth. 

 

“Do you… want me to come with you?” Jim asks hopefully, glancing back at Pam.

 

“No, no, stay here, go get another drink and get one for me while you’re at it,” Karen winks, heading out of the room.

 

“And then there were three,” Ryan mumbles into his drink.

 

“I’m going to the bar,” Jim rolls his eyes and gets up from the table. 

 

Ryan doesn’t wait long after Jim gets up before his hand finds her leg underneath the table and he’s putting his lips on her bare shoulder. 

 

“Sorry, I’m kind of drunk,” he breathes into her ear.  “Just let me know if you want me to… stop.”

 

She nods quickly, taking another sip of her drink and trying not to completely lose herself in the sensation of his lips trailing across her skin.  She lets herself go for a moment, a quiet whimper escaping from her lips.  He looks at her and smiles, obviously taking it as encouragement, and refocuses his attention on the skin of her neck.  His hand is still on her leg, now slowly making its way to the hem of her skirt, his fingers brushing against the fabric.

 

"Hold on," she says suddenly, sitting up straight.

 

"It's the Frodo thing, isn't it," he shakes his head smiling.  "Total turn off."
 

 
“No, no, that's not it," she laughs, nearly jumping to her feet.  "I need to go to the bathroom.”

 

“Yeah, once you break that seal, its hard to recover from,” he nods, looking like he’s trying not to seem disappointed. 

 

She starts to walk away, but thinks better of it, leaning down and kissing him quickly. 

 

“I’ll be right back,” she says softly.  He doesn’t look so disappointed anymore. 

 

When she gets to the bathroom she realizes that she really does need to go, especially since the last time she got too distracted by thoughts of what could be going on in the next room. 

 

After washing her hands, she stumbles back out into the hallway.  It is so dimly lit that she actually knocks her knee against a small table as she’s leaving.  Well, maybe that wasn’t for lack of light so much as that she’s drunk enough not to know better. 

 

She can see someone walking towards her, and maybe its just the height, but she knows that it’s him approaching without him having to say a word.

“Hey,” he says softly. 

 

“Hey.”  She can barely see him in the dim light and it’s discomforting.  She feels anxious, and she wants to get out of there as fast as humanly possible. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Um, I’m leaving the bathroom… what are you doing?”

 

“That’s not what I meant.”

 

“Guess you’re going to have to be a little clearer then.”

 

“Seriously, what are you doing here, Pam?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means… I don’t know what I mean.  But all I know is that I can handle seeing you with Roy.  Hell, I’m used to Roy.  Roy’s always been there.  But this?  Ryan? I mean, seriously.  Are you just trying to piss me off, or what?”

 

“Newsflash, but the whole world doesn’t revolve around you, Jim,” she crosses her arms.  “Why should it even bother you?  You’ve made your priorities pretty clear these past few months and I’m just taking the hint.”

 

“What hint?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know, the big neon flashing sign above your head that says ‘I’M WITH KAREN’?”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah, oh.  What is it that you want anyway?  Or can I go back to the party now.”

 

“What do I want?” he asks, and his voice is deeper and more forceful than before.  He puts his hands on either of her hips, pressing her up against the wall.  “I want to be the one that’s touching you.”

 

She’s trapped between his hands, which are now pressed against the wall on either side of her.  His hips are pushed against her and she can tell that he’s already aroused, despite how much he has had to drink.   He moves one of his hands to her neck and along her jaw, rubbing the skin softly with the pad of his thumb.  She can feel herself giving in to him, her body surrendering against her will.  He leans in closer to her and she sees her escape, slipping out to the side. 

 

“Well, you can’t.  You’re with Karen, remember?  She’s my friend.”

 

“She’s not your friend,” Jim scoffs, obviously shocked that she moved away so quickly.  “She only wants to convince you to hook up with Ryan so that you’ll stay away from me.”

 

She can feel an anger rising in her. After all this, he wants to cheat on his girlfriend with her while he’s drunk and horny?  That’s not quite the way she had pictured things happening between them.  But then again, nothing has been.

 

“What did you say to him?” she asks.  He looks uncomfortable. 

 

“Why?  Didn’t he tell you?” He crosses his arms, leaning his back against the wall.

 

“No, I want you to,” she says, hoping that her voice isn’t wavering.  For once, maybe she can be the strong one.

 

“I told him… not to get his hopes up.  Because you aren’t that easy,” he says bitterly.  “But I guess maybe I was--”

 

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence,” she cuts him off abruptly.  “You don’t get to decide how I move on with my life, Jim.  And you certainly are in no position to judge me.”

 

“Well, maybe I’m jealous,” he snaps. 

 

“Talk about understatement of the century,” she mutters. 

 

“Pam, please,” his voice is low again, like a growl, and something flutters in her abdomen.  “Let me.”

 

His hands find their way to her hips again and his breath is hot against her neck, like he’s breathing fire.  His lips hover above the skin, like he’s waiting on her permission but that he doesn’t completely care.  She feels a hand slide down her outer thigh. 

 

“No, you can’t,” she regains her composure and pushes him away.  “I can’t let you.”

 

“Then… what now?” he says breathlessly. 

 

She considers him for a moment, wishing almost that she could just let go and do what he wants her to. 

 

“Show me,” she says softly, the words resonating in her throat. And, if she wasn’t so drunk, she might not have said it.

 

“What?”

 

“You want to touch, right?” There’s a grin spreading across her face now that she can’t seem to help.  She’s never been this girl before, but maybe for tonight she’ll let herself pretend.  “So, show me where.”

 

He looks at her, confusion clouded in his eyes, and takes a step forward, reaching out his hand.

 

“Not like that,” she waves her finger at him, taking a step back.  She winks at him once and turns to leave, walking determinately out of the hallway and back into the main room.   She glances behind her once to see if he’s following (which he is) and motions for him to take a seat over at the bar.   He sits at the very end of the bar, half-cloaked in darkness, and orders another drink.  He’s perched on the edge of the stool as though he’s ready to jump up at any given moment.

 

She walks over to the table where Ryan is waiting for her, nursing a beer. 

 

“Dance with me?” she grins at him.  He tips back the remainder of the bottle and takes her hand. 

 

The only music playing is Dwight's enthusiastic rendition of Whitesnake's 'When I See you Smile' and Pam maneuvers him onto the dance floor (he’s stumbling a little), turning them so that she is facing towards Jim and can watch him easily over Ryan’s shoulder.   He’s watching her like a hawk from his perch at the bar and she thinks she can see a change in his expression as realization creeps in. 

 

“I’ve got a challenge for you,” she whispers, pressing her lips against Ryan’s ear without breaking Jim’s stare. 

 

“Anything,” he breathes.  His cheek is covered in evening stubble and it feels rough against hers. 

 

“Do whatever I say?”

 

He pulls back to look at the impish grin on her face and she can see his eyes spark.  He nods slowly as though he doesn’t quite believe what she’s saying, but he desperately wants to. 

 

“Touch my cheek,” she says softly, and he does.  His thumb is warm against her skin and he’s rubbing the same spot that Jim’s was on only a few moments earlier. 

 

She looks over his shoulder and locks with Jim’s eyes, which seem completely aware of what she wants by this point. 

 

She raises her eyebrows at him, issuing another challenge.   He takes a long, slow sip of his beer and she wonders if he’ll actually play along.  In a moment, she has her answer.

 

With a beer in his left hand, Jim takes his right and brings it to his neck, rubbing the skin slowly.  She smiles. 

 

“Kiss my neck,” she whispers to Ryan and has to catch her breath a little as his tongue slides effortlessly across her skin, his teeth nicking the surface just enough to make her knees weak.   

 

Jim’s eyes haven’t left her and he is chewing on his lip in anticipation.   He takes his hand and touches it to his hip. 

 

Pam takes both of Ryan’s hands in hers, leading them down the sides of her body, releasing them once they are resting on her hips.  He loops his thumbs through the belt loops of her denim skirt and pulls her even closer, his hands rubbing slow circles against the fabric. 

 

His fingers begin to creep farther towards her backside so she takes them and moves them gently back in place. 

 

“Right,” he breathes, his eyes devouring every inch of her.  “You’re the boss.”

 

She sees Jim touch his shoulder and soon Ryan’s lips are there, sucking gently on the skin.  Jim’s fingers seem to hesitate, like he’s debating something to himself, but then he touches them to his lips. 

 

She barely has to instruct Ryan before his lips are against hers, his tongue slipping methodically against her own.  His thumbs tug at the belt loops again and she can feel the heat of him against her.  She has to fight to keep her eyes open and to not lose herself completely against his lips.

 

 Jim is now leaning so far forward on his stool that it seems almost impossible that he is able to stay on.   His hand moves and she puts hers on one of Ryan’s, guiding his way up and down the outer side of her thigh, but not allowing his fingers to stray underneath the hem of her skirt. 

 

Jim’s licking his lips and he shifts again.

 

“My ear,” she whispers to Ryan, and he takes the soft skin of her earlobe gently between his teeth. 

 

“You are so fucking hot,” his words are hot against her ear and seem to fill her entire body, causing her knees to weaken momentarily

 

Jim moves again and she instructs Ryan to touch her hair.  He lets his hand comb slowly through the strands, his fingertips burning trails across her scalp. 

 

His hand drifts to her neck and he uses it to turn her eyes to his.  He’s breathing heavily and for a moment they’re alone.  There’s no Jim.  No one else but these eyes and these hands on her.   The moment seems to stretch out forever and she forgets about Jim entirely. 

 

“What do you want?” Ryan asks and she’s at a loss for words. 

 

She can sense that he’s beginning to take matters into his own hands (literally) when his fingers dip beneath the hem of her skirt, but by this point she is too far gone to stop him.  His fingers dance up the inside of her thigh, getting dangerously close to their destination, and then backing off again.  On the third time she can’t take it anymore and lets out a soft whimper resembling the word ‘Jim’ and she hopes that he didn’t hear.

 

He presses his palm against the wet fabric, teasing her in slow circles to the point that her teeth are clamped tightly on her bottom lip.  Pushing the fabric aside, he rubs the entire length of his flattened fingers slowly against her.  Jim’s eyes are locked on hers, his lips tight as though he’s straining just as much as she is.  The way his teeth are scraping against his lower lips nearly puts her over the edge. 

 

“I need to hear you say it,” Ryan whispers to her.  “Tell me what you want.”

 

“You,” she whimpers.  “Please.”

 

She can feel her legs shake violently as his fingers slide into her.  Luckily his other arm is wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her upright as though he was expecting this kind of a reaction.  He’s moving in and out of her slowly, and curling his fingers inside in just the right way that she thinks she might lose it. 

 

“Come back to my room,” he says against her ear, like it’s an order and not a question. 

 

She’s unsure of what to say until his thumb presses against her and she spits out a “Yes” like it’s an automatic reflex.

 

He steps away from her, his eyes not leaving hers and tells her that he will be right back, heading towards the bathroom. 

 

Her knees are still shaking, but she’s able to pull herself together enough to walk over to the bar, standing idly a few feet from Jim.  She can see Karen coming back into the room and she knows that there isn’t much time.

 

“I don’t know that I’m ready for this to end,” he says softly, staring ahead of him. 

 

“Maybe it doesn’t have to,” she smiles without looking over at him.  “You and Ryan have adjoining rooms, right?”

 

“Are you serious?” he sounds surprised, but she can tell that he’s smiling. 

 

“Take Karen upstairs,” she whispers, leaving him standing at the bar alone. 

 

“Ready?” Ryan furrows his eyebrows at her and she nods, taking his hand. 

 

“Wait up!” Karen calls after them, dragging Jim behind her and looking pretty far gone herself. 

 

The four of them pile into the tiny elevator.  Karen’s leaning her head on Jim’s shoulder and rubbing his chest in such a way that Pam knows she must be very intoxicated.  She’s facing the doors when Ryan’s arms snake around her waist from behind, pulling her into him.  He let’s his hands linger there on her stomach, playing with the soft skin just beneath the edge of her shirt, and kisses her neck every so often. 

 

Karen’s trying to pull Jim down so that she can whisper something in his ear, but his eyes are completely fixated on Ryan’s hands and he doesn’t seem to hear her.  When the light dings the group of them stumble out into the hallway and Karen becomes a giggling mess, tripping over her own feet. 

 

“Whoa there,” Jim grabs a hold of her, keeping her upright as she wraps her arms around his neck. 

 

“Sleep well, Pam,” Karen throws her an exaggerated wink when they reach the rooms. 

 

“Yeah, I hope not,” Ryan grins, causing Karen to erupt in a fit of laughter. 

 

She feels Jim’s hand brush across the length of her back as he walks past her.  He pauses in the doorway to his and Karen’s room and looks at her once before going inside. 

 

“Are you sure about this?” Ryan asks as he steps into his room, and she answers him with her lips.  He’s the perfect kissing height.  Not too tall or too short.  She begins to wonder what the rest of him looks like. 

 

“I know what you were doing down there,” he says as she’s placing her lips all along his neckline. 

 

“Doing what?” she asks, nipping at his skin. 

 

“You were trying to get Jim off from across the room,” he grins at her wickedly and she can feel her face flush. 

 

“I… was not,” she stammers, although she’s pretty sure it’s too late for that.

 

Ha laughs and pulls her back against him.  “You guys are kind of sick, you know that?  But you are definitely full of surprises, Pam.” 

 

While the old Pam in her wants to protest and convince him that he’s wrong, she decides to just go with it instead. 

 

“You know, I almost wish you were wearing one of those blue ties you’re always wearing in the office,” she says, pulling on his imaginary tie. 

 

“Are you serious?  I’ve got one in my bag,” he says, kissing her shoulder lightly.

 

“Don’t think I can wait that long,” she shakes her head and presses her lips against his, letting his tongue roam this inside of her mouth. 

 

Her fingers fumble with the fabric of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, leaving his hair sticking out in a thousand different directions.  He helps her out of her own shirt with a little more ease and she can’t help but wonder if he’s either not quite as drunk as she is, or if he’s just had a lot of practice at this. 

 

As he’s kissing her neck again she reaches behind her back to unhook her bra, and he stops her. 

 

“Leave it on,” he raises his eyebrows with a smile, and she’s okay taking the orders now. 

 

He moves to stand behind her, slipping the straps of the bra down off of her shoulder, letting his tongue glide across the skin they used to cover.  His hand reaches around, dipping into the fabric to cup her breast and her breath catches in her throat as he pinches with just the right amount of pressure.  His other hand finds its way back underneath her skirt and he teases her with his fingertips to the point that she is leaning into him just to stand. 

 

Just when she thinks she might explode, his hands pull back and he turns her around to kiss her.  Part of her can’t quite believe that she’s doing this, let alone doing this with Ryan the Temp.  The guy that just couldn’t be Jim while Jim was gone and yet was him now that he was back. 

 

She pushes him down onto the bed and she hears a muffled groan from Karen on the other side of the wall. 

 

“Think you can be louder than that?” he challenges, flipping her over so that her back is against the sheets.  Truthfully, she’s not loud.  She’s never been loud.  Even when she’s trying to be she can’t quite muster it.  But tonight, tonight maybe she’s just the right mixture of drunk and turned on she feels like she can accomplish just about anything. 

 

Ryan’s hands slip down to undo the buttons on her skirt as he kisses her, and slides the fabric down over her hips.  His lips make a trail down her chest and he pushes her bra down further, leaving her breasts exposed.  He uses his tongue on them and she gasps audibly.   As his mouth dips lower she can feel the tension growing in her abdomen, the space between her thighs pulsing and waiting. 

 

He kisses the inside of her thighs, teasing her to the point of near exhaustion, until his tongue finds her and she makes a sound that she’s never heard before. His tongue moves in long, slow strokes and she has to grip the headboard behind her to keep from going over the edge completely.   He begins to hum against her, sending vibrations through her core along with a sensation that’s completely foreign to her.    It reminds her of Journey and dancing. 

 

From the other side of the wall she hears a low moan that could only have could from Jim and she pulls Ryan up to meet her lips. 

 

“I’m ready,” she breathes and he all but lunges for his bag. 

 

His fingers continue to tease her as he rolls on the condom and, once he’s done, she flips him onto his back. 

 

“You’re the boss,” he grins as she runs her hands over his chest.  There is a loud thump from the other room and she imagines Jim positioned like this, his hands pressed against the adjoining wall.  Just the thought begins to drive her insane and she gasps as Ryan pushes into her.   The headboard on the other side of the wall begins to bang rhythmically and a groan escapes her lips.  Not long after she can hear Jim make a sound, as though he’s answering back.

 

As she begins to move her hips against Ryan, he sits up, so that she is in his lap, straddling him.  He puts his hands on her hips and guides her pace, keeping her slower than she’s used to.  With Roy it was always more like a race, but this feels like a slow burn.  She feels her shoulders begin to tremble and she digs her fingers into his back. 

 

The noises from the other headboard are speeding up and Ryan helps her pick up the pace accordingly.  She can feel herself letting go and their eyes are level.  His aren’t closed, he’s staring right into her and so she lets herself do the same.  And for a moment, they are alone again.  And there’s no one else on the other side of that wall.  There’s just him.  As their pace quickens, she hears a final noise from Jim, and then silence. 

 

Ryan lets out a slow groan and she knows she’s about to reach her breaking point.  She bites her lips to keep from speaking. 

 

“It’s okay,” he says to her, his breath heavy like he’s about to lose control.  “You can say his name.”

 

She feels her muscles contract and she says it louder, louder than she’s ever said anything in her life.  Her body is shaking and she keeps rocking against him until she can feel him release, and then collapses against him, trying to catch her breath. 

 

She’s suddenly a little self conscious as she rolls off of him, her hair sticking to her forehead with sweat, and he’s staring at her like he’s trying to figure something out, but not saying a word. 

 

“What?” she asks nervously. 

 

“Nothing, it’s just…” he looks at her, a grin spreading across his face.  “You just said my name.”

 

She nods tentatively and then he’s kissing her and she’s not so worried about the sweat.

It takes three tries before Pam can fully open her eyes in the harsh morning light. Her head feels as though her brain is over inflated, pressing against her skull, and it takes her a moment to realize that she isn’t in her own room.

 

Ryan’s arm is flung across her stomach, his leg overlapping one of her own, and his face is buried in the pillow beside her. She’s wearing his Weezer shirt. Her heart pounds in time with the throbbing in her head, and she wonders for a moment if this is what a panic attack feels like.

 

Her mouth tastes stale and it’s not long before memories of the previous night’s activities come trickling in.

 

She looks over at Ryan, who’s drooling on the pillow, and wonders if she should try and wake him or if she should just attempt to slip out unnoticed. Maybe she could leave a post-it note.

 

She manages to maneuver out from underneath him as she slides off the bed and stumbles around the room, gathering her lost articles of clothing. She thinks about changing here, but it’s almost too risky. If she runs, she can probably make it to her room without Michael or anyone else seeing her.

 

“Hey,” Ryan says to her. He’s sitting up now and rubbing his eyes. She wonders when that happened. “Going somewhere?”

 

“Hi,” she says, surprised at how shy her voice sounds. She really can’t be shy around him anymore now, can she?

 

“You don’t have to leave,” he smiles at her. “It’s like seven in the morning.”

 

“I probably shouldn’t have stayed,” she says, picking up the remainder of her clothing.

 

“Oh,” he says softly, looking away from her.

 

“I didn’t mean…” she says quickly, but doesn’t quite know where to go with that sentence. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head, standing up. “Here, let me help you.”

 

He manages to find both of her shoes for her and walks over to where she is standing by the door, holding them out to her.

 

“Thanks,” she manages a smile, but as she reaches out to take them he takes her wrist instead, holding it gently.

 

“Stay,” he whispers, pulling her closer to him.

 

“It’s not a good idea,” she shakes her head, avoiding his eyes.

 

When he kisses her it tastes like sleep and stale alcohol, but she gives in to it anyway, letting him put his arms around her waist.

 

“Just for a little,” she says against his lips. He grins and grabs her under the knees, carrying her back over to the bed and setting her down on the mattress with a surprising ease.

 

She figures that he really just wants to have morning after sex, but instead he lies down next to her, pulling her back against his chest.

 

“I’m terrible at sleeping in after I drink,” she says.

 

“That’s okay,” he kisses her neck. “You can just occupy yourself with keeping me awake.”

 

“Oh and how do you propose I do that?” she laughs.

 

“Hmm, I don’t know. Tell me a story. Something good,” he sighs.

 

“Okay, once upon a time there was this magical land called Dunder-Mifflonia,” she begins.

 

“I said something good, Pam,” he laughs. “Nothing about Dunder-Mifflin is good.”

 

“True,” she sighs. The silence stretches out for a few minutes, long enough to make her wonder whether he’s fallen back to sleep.

 

“Should we… talk?” he asks softly. “Uh, about last night?”

 

“Do we need to?” she asks hesitantly. “I mean… we’re on a boat, and we’re having fun, right?”

 

“Right,” he answers, obviously about as convinced of her words as she is.

 

After a few more beats of silence he pulls away from her, gently turning her over to face him.

 

“You look good in that shirt,” he grins. “Can we at least talk about how Dwight and Angela came out of the closet?”

 

“Oh, I know!” she laughs. “I couldn’t believe it. I wonder how much they’ll regret that today.”

 

“Well, at least Michael doesn’t know,” he says. “Man, when I used to sit next to Dwight and he would drive me crazy I almost held that over him so many times.”

 

“Oh yeah?” she says. “Why didn’t you then? That definitely would have gotten him to shut up.”

 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, his voice becoming serious. “All things considered, Dwight’s actually a pretty good guy. I mean, I totally bombed my first sales call and he was really cool about it… I guess it just didn’t feel right.”

 

“Don’t tell anyone I said that though,” he adds with a laugh.

 

“No, actually… you’re right,” she says, staring up at the ceiling. “He can be a really good… friend. In his own way.”

 

His hand is warm against her stomach as he entertains himself by tracing letters on her skin and making her guess what word he is writing.

 

“Beekeeper?” she guesses.

 

“Not even close,” he laughs, shaking his head. “You are awful at this.”

 

“You know, I didn’t used to like you very much,” she sighs as he starts over with a new word.

 

“Oh really?” he laughs. “Want to know what changed my mind about you?”

 

“What?” she asks excitedly.

 

“That day we did that stupid grief counseling circle?” he laughs.

 

“Ah, right,” she nods. “The tragic death of your cousin Mufasa.”

 

“Yeah,” he smiles. “I don’t know, I guess up until then I kind of just thought of you as Jim’s lackey, just kind of going along with whatever stupid prank he wanted to pull.”

 

“Oh great,” she rolls her eyes. “I’m so glad that I seemed so pathetic.”

 

He grins, reaching out to brush some hair away from her face.

 

“I was wrong.”

 

A silence settles between them and she leans her head on his chest as he strokes her arm absently.

 

“I’m going to have my own business some day.” He says it more like it’s a wish than a goal.

 

She finds herself nodding, thinking that she should probably ask a question, but she isn’t exactly sure that he’s talking to her any more.

 

“Do you want to come?” he asks, turning to her with a smile.

 

“What? Like, to be your receptionist?”

 

“No way,” he laughs. “All good businesses need someone in graphic design.”

 

“Right, because I have so much experience in that,” she says, rolling her eyes.

 

“You could,” he shrugs. “If you wanted to.”

 

“I’m probably already putting myself into debt with these painting classes I’m taking,” she sighs. “I’m not even very good.”

 

“I’ve seen some of your drawings, Pam. They are good.”

 

“You should have seen this art show though, it was… I’m not even in the same league.”

 

“Well, maybe that’s because all you paint are staplers and coffee mugs.”

 

“What else am I supposed to paint? I’m around things like staplers all day, so that’s what I know. Dunder-Mifflin isn’t particularly inspiring.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“You know what it means.”

 

She sighs, settling her head back into the pillow and staring up at the ceiling.

 

“So what’s your business going to be?” she asks quietly.

 

There’s a pause that seems to stretch into minutes before he answers.

 

“I have no idea.”

 

“Ryan!” There’s a banging on the door and she feels her heart just about stop. “Ryan, are you up yet??”

 

“Just be really quiet,” Ryan whispers. “He’ll go away eventually. Toby taught me that trick.”

 

“I don’t even want to know how he’d react if…” Pam is cut off when he kisses her, his hands slipping underneath the Weezer shirt.

 

“Ryan!!” Michael’s yelling. Pam gestures silently towards the door, reminding him who’s out there.

 

“What?” he grins. “This can be quiet.”

 

With that he’s kissing her again and she lets him, hoping that Michael will just give up and go away.

 

“I should probably go anyway,” she says once she’s sure that Michael is gone.

 

“You sure?” he sits up, watching her gather up her clothes.

 

“Yeah, I need to shower before breakfast,” she explains quickly.

 

“You’re probably right, I need to too,” he yawns, dragging himself from the bed.

 

He walks over to where she is standing and kisses her before she slips out into the hallway. Last night’s clothes are bundled in her arms as she pulls the door closed behind her.

 

“Well, well, well,” Michael is standing across the hallway, his arms folded across his chest.

 

“Michael,” she jumps back suddenly. “What are you… I mean, what’s up?”

 

“Why were you in Ryan’s room?” he narrows his eyes at her.

 

“I—I was… we switched,” she says quickly. “Rooms. We switched rooms.”

 

“Why?” he asks warily.

 

“Um, I was feeling seasick? And, uh, Ryan thought that his room was… stable…er. So he switched with me.”

 

“Huh.” He’s still staring at her like he doesn’t quite believe her.

 

“I just saw Ryan out by the pool,” Phyllis says, coming practically out of nowhere.

 

“Oh,” Michael smiles, heading off in that direction. “See you at breakfast!”

 

Pam mouths a “thank you” to her as she walks past.

 

“I want details,” she whispers in a singsong voice and Pam can feel her cheeks burning.

 

And then, of course, another door opens and there’s Jim. His hair is a mess and he looks like he just dragged himself out of bed.

 

“Hey, thought I heard you out here,” he yawns.

 

“Yeah, just… going to go shower,” she glances away nervously. She can see the door to her room and yet it feels years away.

 

“You… going to breakfast after that?” he asks.

 

“Um, yeah, probably,” she nods.

 

“Listen, Pam…” he steps towards her, putting his hand on her arm.

 

“Hey, you forgot something,” Ryan says as he swings open the door to his room. He’s obviously just barely out of the shower because he’s still got a towel wrapped around his waist. He’s holding Karen’s skirt in his hands.

 

“Oh, hey man,” he says to Jim before turning back to her. “Want me to come by your room on the way to breakfast?”

 

“Oh, um, yeah sure,” she nods tentatively. Jim’s still standing with his hand on her arm as though he can’t move.

 

“Alright, see you in a few,” he smiles, completely unfazed, and disappears back into the room.

 

“Uh, I guess I’ll see you at breakfast then?” Jim asks, suddenly recoiling his hand.

 

“Yeah, definitely,” she says. “Well, I better… go.”

 

“Me too,” he nods.

 

She tries not to look like she’s hurrying as much as she is as she continues down the hall, because she certainly does not need any more encounters this morning. Once she’s safely in her room, she peels off the t-shirt and jumps in the shower without even bothering to run the water first.

 

The cold water is ice on her skin, but she forces herself to stand there, gasping for breath as the temperature slowly warms.

 

She decides to keep the shower brief, avoiding any thoughts of the previous night, and wraps herself in a towel. Sitting on the edge of the bed she attempts to towel-dry her hair, wondering when or if her headache will wear off.

 

Lying back against the pillows she reaches out for the t-shirt that had been tossed so carelessly onto the bed a few minutes ago. It smells like him.

 

She doesn’t realize that she’s fallen asleep until there’s a knock on the door.

 

“Pam? You ready?”

 

She stumbles to her feet, readjusting the towel before answering the door.

 

“Hey,” he smiles at her. “Guess you aren’t ready?”

 

“Not exactly,” she laughs, hiding herself behind the door.

 

“Um, I can just… wait out here,” he says, motioning to the empty hallway.

 

“Well… I guess we’re kind of past that point now aren’t we?” She considers for a moment and then opens the door to let him inside.

 

He sits down on the edge of the bed, his fingers clasped together as he waits.

 

“Oh, I’ll, um, turn this way,” he says, realizing that he’s staring at her.

 

As she’s about to slip out of the towel she finds herself chewing on her bottom lip, walking over towards him. She steps between his knees and he lets his hands venture up the sides of her legs and then over the fabric of the towel.

 

He looks up at her and she nods, slowly. The towel is forgotten and then there are just his hands and the heat of his body against hers.

 

“Oh, wait, I don’t…” she says, as she fumbles with his belt.

 

“Got it covered,” he pulls a condom from his pocket, his lips not leaving hers.

 

“Prepared much?” she laughs, pulling his shirt over his head.

 

“Call it wishful thinking,” he smiles.

 

Her hair is at least a little air-dried by the time he’s pulling his pants back on and she dresses quickly, wondering if their absence at breakfast will be noticed. She probably doesn’t have to wonder.

 

“Do you think we should… stagger our arrival?” she asks as they walk down the hall.

 

“I think it’ll look just as bad either way,” he laughs, taking her hand.

 

This time, when they reach the dining hall, she’s the one to let go.

 

She walks over to the breakfast buffet, picking idly through an assortment of bagels and little boxed cereals, wishing that she had an appetite. When she finally fills her plate up she sits down at the table next to Phyllis.

 

“We were getting worried about you,” Jim says from the other side of Bob Vance.

 

“Oh, yeah… just had to dry my hair,” she smiles, wondering if he'll notice that it’s still fairly wet.

 

Michael’s munching happily on his plate of bacon and Dwight is critiquing the presentation of the sausages.

 

“Feeling okay?” Jim asks her, leaning awkwardly over Bob to do so.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she nods. “A little tired I guess.”

 

Walking up behind her, Ryan sets down a steaming cup of tea in front of her.

 

“For your head,” he whispers, touching her back lightly as he sits down. His plate is piled with just about every meat or fat product in the buffet line.

 

“What?” he laughs when he sees her staring at it. “Grease is the best cure for a hangover.”

 

“Tell that to your arteries,” she laughs.

 

“Hey, I have a high metabolism,” he shrugs. “Might as well enjoy it now.”

 

She takes a sip of the tea, surprised to find that it’s her favorite kind of chamomile.

 

“How did you know what tea I drink?” she asks, taking another sip.

 

“Oh, um, I don’t know actually,” he laughs. “From work, I guess?”

 

“You guys totally missed karaoke last night,” Michael chuckles. “What happened?”

 

“Yeah, I don’t remember anything past you spilling your drink all over me, Halpert,” Karen nudges Jim playfully. “I really wanted to sing some Billy Joel or something.”

 

“Jan did a great Stevie Nicks song,” Phyllis jumps in, making Jan smile uncomfortably.

 

“Why would you pick to sing a song by a man anyway?” Michael asks Jan, and no one bothers to correct him.

 

“How are you this morning, Angela?” Pam smiles at her.

 

“Fine,” she nods curtly, taking a sip of her coffee. She has a scarf tied on her head and she’s wearing a pair of dark sunglasses.

 

“Do you think ‘Puppy Love’ should be our song?” Michael continues asking Jan, obviously lost in his own world.

 

“Michael, no,” she sighs.

 

“What was with you last night?” Michael turns to Dwight. “You were all… touchy. Well, mainly with Angela, but…”

 

“Yeah, he was with me too,” Pam jumps in quickly. “Dwight gets that way… sometimes.” Angela looks relieved.

 

“Total lightweight,” Ryan adds, shaking his head.

 

“How come I can’t get away with that then?” Michael asks, but Jan throws him a look and he shuts up.

 

Jim stays quiet for most of the meal after that, but she catches him looking up at her several times, especially when Ryan offers to get her more tea.

 

After breakfast Michael reminds them to go pack up their rooms because the boat will be docking in Baltimore “any minute now.”

 

“So are you going to dish?” Phyllis whispers to her excitedly as they walk down the hallway.

 

“Later… maybe,” she says quickly as Jim falls in step behind them.

 

As she packs her bag, she folds the Weezer t-shirt neatly, placing it near the top. She figures the least she can do is wash it.

 

“Can I come in?” Jim’s standing at the door.

 

“Oh, yeah… sure,” she nods, quickly zipping the bag closed. “What’s up?”

 

“Nothing, I just… I don’t know,” he sighs.

 

“We really don’t need to talk about it, Jim,” she assures him.

 

“Maybe we should?”

 

“I don’t really… know what to say. I kind of just want to get off of this boat.”

 

“Well, maybe we can start over,” he sighs. “Things have been… weird lately. Maybe we can be…”

 

“Friends again?” she asks, her voice catching a little in her throat.

 

“Yeah, just, something like that… you know?”

 

“Yeah, I know,” she nods. There’s an announcement that startles her, saying that the ship is docking.

 

“I guess I’ll see you out there,” he says, his eyes holding hers.

 

“Yeah… see ya,” she says softly.

 

Once they are off the ship they gather around yet another beat-up van as Michael goes on about “finding his land-legs” again or something equally ridiculous. This one is a least a little bigger to accommodate the extra people.

 

Jim and Karen are idling only a few feet away and Ryan is standing next to her when he pulls out his cell phone.

 

“Huh,” he says once he turns the phone on.

 

“Something wrong?” she asks.

 

“No, nothing… its just…” he stares at his phone, clicking a few of the buttons. “I don’t have any messages.”

 

“Oh,” she nods, wondering if Kelly’s date had gone better than she had expected. “Are you… okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he flips his phone closed, forcing a smile as he slips it into his pocket. “It’s fine.”

 

She can see Jim watching her reaction and she bows her head, walking quickly towards the vehicle.

 

She makes sure to be one of the first in the van, scrunching into the far back corner next to Angela. Jim and Karen are a row in front of her again and Michael’s insisted that Ryan sit near him to help navigate the Maryland road system.

 

“Do you think Michael even noticed that you didn’t go to your cat convention?” Pam whispers to Angela.

 

“I told him that it was canceled suddenly… because of the poisoned pet food scare,” Angela says, her lips stretching into a smile.

 

“Dwight, no one wants to listen to your mix-tape!” Michael is yelling in the front.

 

“Why not? It’s a tape of different army cadences; I thought we could all sing along!” Dwight pleads.

 

“I’m tired, I’m not singing along to anything,” Stanley grumbles.

 

“Ryan, you aren’t allowed to listen to your iPod while you’re navigating,” Michael reprimands him.

 

“Fine,” Ryan sighs, defeated. He glances back, catching her eyes and motions to the iPod, asking if she’d like to use it.

 

“Sure,” she nods and, ironically enough, he hands it to Jim to hand back to her. She’s never been carsick before today.

 

She slips the headphones into her ears, letting the music drown out Michael’s attempts to play car games, and falls asleep against the cold window. It’s not quite as comfortable as last time.

 

A few hours later they are piling out of the van and into the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot.

 

“See you tomorrow at work!” Michael calls, as though he’s actual excited about it.

 

Jim and Karen are talking in hushed voices next to her car and Ryan is on his cell phone a few feet away.

 

“Hey, yeah, I’m back,” he says into the receiver. “Is everything okay? Yeah. That’s great. Um, okay, yeah I can come over.”

 

“I guess we’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Pam?” Karen yawns.

 

“Oh yeah, can’t wait,” she sighs, making her way to her own car. “See you… guys.”

 

“So, are you coming over?” Karen says to Jim now as she walks away.

 

“Um, I’m kind of tired actually. Rain check?” he says.

 

“Pam, wait up!” Ryan calls after her, jogging over to her car.

 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she says nervously, handing him the iPod.

 

“Oh right, thanks,” he slips it into his pocket. “See you tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah, tomorrow,” she nods.

 

They stand awkwardly in front of one another for a few moments before Pam puts out her hand to shake his. A grin sets across his face as he looks at her outstretched hand, taking it warily.

 

As she’s about to let go, he pulls her closer to him and she fumbles a little on her feet.

 

“Thanks,” he says, kissing her softly on the forehead, and lets her go.

 

As he walks back towards his own car she catches Jim and Karen staring in her direction. Karen winks at her. Jim looks away.

 

She’s never been so relieved to be back in the safety of her own car.

It’s been a week.

 

Five days of waking up at six just so that she can be sure she’ll be the first one at work. Five days of eating her lunch at her desk or in her car down the street. Five days of struggling to stay awake at her desk because she can’t even imagine stepping into the break room for coffee. Five days of ducking out of the office the moment the hour hand reaches the five.

 

Even the two days of the weekend weren’t much of a stress relief because she spent most of that time agonizing over drawings and trying to undo the ever present knots in her stomach.

 

It’s Monday again, and she’s the first one in the office, ensuring that she doesn’t get caught in an elevator with Jim or Karen or Ryan or even Kelly. She hopes that the camera crew isn’t coming in today because she’d rather not have to sit through another uncomfortable interview, explaining to them that the cruise was fun, but uneventful.

 

As her co-workers begin to trickle in she realizes how good she’s gotten at recognizing each of them without having to look up from her desk. Avoiding all unnecessary eye contact has been her tactic for five days.

 

When Jim walks in she trains her eyes on a fax that she put on her desk specifically for this reason. He says “good morning” and she replies without looking up. She can see him sitting down at his desk in her peripheral vision.

 

When he had first come back from Stamford she had lamented over him losing his old desk. Now she couldn’t be more grateful to have his back to her all day.

 

When Ryan walks in, her eyes focus back on the fax. He doesn’t say good morning. She’s pretty sure that he’s gotten used to her ignoring him after five days of silence. Jim hasn’t, however, and (as he has for the past five days whenever Ryan comes into the office) he sidles up to her desk, picking through the dish of candy that she has neglected to refill.

 

“Tired?” he asks, examining a red jellybean, trying to determine whether it’s cherry or cinnamon.

 

“A little,” she shrugs. She doesn’t look at him. This fax is very important, she repeats to herself.

 

“Good weekend?”

 

“Nothing special,” she says, hoping that he’ll just give up already and leave her alone. The camera crew has shown up, and now she can almost feel the lens zooming in on her from across the room.

 

“Hey, did you--” he starts, but is cut off when Karen walks through the office door.

 

“Hey Pam,” she smiles and Pam forces a smile in return. Karen turns to Jim as she slips out of her coat. “I think you left your iPod on my kitchen counter this morning.”

 

“Oh right, thanks,” he says softly, returning to his desk.

 

She manages to make it through the next few hours with relatively few complications. Jim hasn’t turned around, Ryan has yet to emerge from the Annex, and even Michael seems to be busy with actual work.

 

“All right everyone, listen up,” Michael emerges from his office as though he had been reading her mind. “I’ve got a very important announcement, so sit tight while I get the others!”

 

He disappears into the back room and returns tailed by Kelly, Ryan, and Toby (although he’s telling Toby that he can just stay at his desk because this doesn’t concern him). Everyone looks at Michael expectantly.

 

“I would like to make… a grand gesture of sorts,” Michael explains loudly. “Ryan? Could you come over here please?”

 

Suddenly she’s having horrible flashbacks to the fiasco with Oscar.

 

Ryan takes a few tentative steps towards Michael, who throws an arm around his shoulder. “A few weeks ago I banished Ryan for being ungrateful, but I am happy to announce that he has served his penance and that I am graciously allowing him to return to his old stomping ground.”

 

“And why did you feel the need to interrupt us for this announcement?” Stanley asks him wearily.

 

“Because, Stanley, it is a big deal.”

 

“Can I move to the back?” Kevin asks loudly, exchanging a glance with Angela.

 

“No, you can’t, Kevin,” Michael sighs. “And trust me, you don’t want to.”

 

“Um… thank you?” Ryan says. Pam’s never seen Toby smile so much at something Michael said before.

 

“No need to thank me, just so long as you’ve learned your lesson,” Michael punches him playfully. “Now go get your stuff you little spaz!"

 

"Maybe he'll put Andy in the back when he returns," Dwight grins at Jim.

 

"Yeah? You think he'll start calling Kelly 'Big Garden Salad'?" Jim asks, eliciting an eye roll from Dwight.

Ryan obviously does not have a lot of stuff because it’s not long before he’s setting a cardboard box down on his old desk.

 

“Hey, tell you what, why don’t you take my desk instead?” Jim says suddenly.

 

“What? Why would I do that?” Ryan eyes him.

 

“I don’t know, I just kind of want my old desk back,” Jim shrugs.

 

“But it’s been empty for weeks,” Ryan continues. “Why didn’t you just take it?”

 

“Didn’t realize that I wanted it,” Jim stands up and starts moving his stuff onto the other desk.

 

“Fine, whatever,” Ryan rolls his eyes, moving his box to Jim’s desk.

 

Jim catches her watching the spectacle and smiles at her, and suddenly her stomach is twisting all over again.

 

She grabs a customer service form that she’s been avoiding bringing to Kelly for the past three days and walks quickly to the back of the office.

 

“I don’t know, I want to go somewhere like Mexico, but Jim thinks we should go to Canada. I think it’ll be really cold though,” Karen is saying, sitting in Ryan’s recently abandoned chair.

 

“Oh, but going somewhere cold can be totally romantic,” Kelly says. “Like, me and Ryan went to Deep Creek Lake a few months ago? It was so cold, but it was totally great because the place had this hot tub? And... anyway, next I definitely want to go somewhere warm.”

 

“Hey, Kelly?” she sticks her head around the cubicle partition. “I’ve been meaning to bring this to you.”

 

“Oh, thanks Pam!” she takes the form, throwing it back on her desk. “Oh my god, where have you been lately? I feel like we haven’t talked in forever.”

 

“Yeah, we haven’t…” she says nervously. Karen shifts uncomfortably in the chair.

 

“I better get back to work,” Karen says quickly, throwing Pam a sympathetic look before walking out.

 

“Sit! Sit!” Kelly beckons her over. “We have to catch up!”

 

Pam sits tentatively in the chair. The desk even smells like him, if that’s possible.

 

“So, you and Ryan are going somewhere?” she forces a smile.

 

“Oh my God, no!” Kelly gasps. “Didn’t you hear that we broke up??”

 

“Oh, yeah, I remember him saying something…” she shrugs.

 

“It’s such a weird story too, because I was reading this article in Cosmo, well, I guess it wasn’t like an article, but one of those quizzes? Anyway I was taking this quiz about how to tell whether you should dump your loser boyfriend and I was only doing it so that I could get a really bad score and then I could show Ryan to prove how we totally should never break up, but then... I got a high score. And I didn’t know what to do. So I went to this bar where Ryan was supposed to be having this guy’s night out that I totally wasn’t allowed to go to, but I went because this was like about the future of our whole relationship and I caught him flirting with this skanky girl and I just said enough is enough, you know what I mean Pam?”

 

“Yeah that’s… breaking up is a tough decision,” Pam nods.

 

“I know! And wow, you totally know what I’m talking about because you had to break up with Roy twice! Anyway, so I finally let my parents fix me up with this guy Ken and I was only doing it to make Ryan jealous and realize that he needs to treat me better, but then I totally hit it off with Ken! I mean he’s sooo incredible and sweet and he already wants to do things like go on trips together and like plan our futures. Our futures, Pam. Ryan won’t even make plans for next weekend. Anyway, I haven’t even looked back and I feel really bad because I think he’s totally heartbroken, he called me the other night totally wasted because he wanted my advice or something, but my friend saw him making out with that same slut at a bar earlier that night so I think I made the right decision. Don’t you?”

 

“Yeah, you sound pretty happy,” she says, forcing another smile.

 

“I know, right? And how perfect does Kelly and Ken sound?? Last night we talked on the phone for like hours about so much important stuff like what kind of dogs we want and our favorite songs from Dreamgirls and it was just like amazing. I know he’s the One.”

 

“How?” she asks. She should know better by now than to ask Kelly open-ended questions like this, but something compels her to anyway.

 

Kelly actually takes a moment of silence, contemplating her answer instead of just shooting off random strings of words.

 

“Because, it’s so… easy,” she says finally. “Things with Ryan were always really difficult, like right from the start. But with Ken its like, I don’t even have to try because it’s just… there.”

 

When she finally walks back to her desk it’s almost like she’s stepped back in time. It’s strange to think that something as simple as a seating arrangement could dredge up so many memories.

 

As the hours pass she notices how Jim’s eyes seem to find hers almost effortlessly whenever Michael makes an awkward comment, or how he finds at least four different excuses to stop and lean against her desk.

 

Is this what Kelly means when she says she’s found something… easier?

 

Having Jim back in his old desk is strangely comforting, but she can’t help the fact that her eyes keep wandering farther to the right. She has no idea what the back of Ryan’s neck is saying to her. Maybe it’s not saying anything at all.

 

“So, I’ve been just stock-piling all of these prank ideas… we’ve got to discuss them tomorrow,” Jim winks at her as he slips his coat on.

 

“Right, tomorrow,” she smiles, reveling in the part of her that is actually looking forward to it.

 

She pushes that part of herself back down when she catches Karen’s eyes across the room.

 

“Actually… um, I think that maybe there’s a lot of things we should… talk about,” he says under his breath, leaning a little across the desk.

 

“See you tomorrow, Jim,” she nods, hoping that if she ignores the comment it will just go away.

 

Karen catches up to him, sneaking her hand into the crook of his elbow.

 

“Goodnight, Pam,” she smiles at her, but there’s a sadness to it that she hasn’t seen since before the trip.

 

“Goodnight, Karen,” she waves as she shuts down her computer. Ryan’s still at his desk and she doesn’t want to be left alone in the office together.

 

She manages to pull her coat on, gathering her things in her arms with her eye trained on the back of his head so that she can be ready to bolt if he starts to move.

 

“Goodnight,” he says softly without turning around just as she reaches the door.

 

She pauses with her hand on the knob. She should probably say something, shouldn’t she?

 

She walks through it anyways.

 

Once she’s in the safety of her own apartment it becomes a little easier to breathe, and she can settle into her usual solitary evening routine. She cleans for a bit and works on a drawing that’s been giving her a lot of trouble. When her frustration with her hand not creating what she can see so clearly in her mind boils over, she gives up and settles in front of the television.

 

That wife swapping show is on. What ever happened to her having a life?

 

She’s not sure what time she drifts to sleep on the sofa, but when the phone rings and wakes her up her stomach hurts because she forgot to have dinner.

 

“Hello?” she asks, checking her watch and realizing that it is one in the morning.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hi…” she says again.

 

“Sorry, its late isn’t it?”

 

“It’s okay,” she shakes her head even though he can’t see it. “I think I’ve probably been asleep since nine.”

 

“Oh, are you feeling okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine just…” She doesn’t know how to finish her thought so she just lets the words hang there.

 

“I’m sorry to call, I just…” he sighs loudly. “Why are you avoiding me?”

 

“I… don’t know,” she answers. “It’s easier.”

 

“Not for me,” he says. “Look, if you regret what happened, its okay, but ignoring me isn’t going to make you forget it.”

 

“I’m not trying to forget it,” she says quickly, although part of her isn't sure anymore of what she's trying to do.

 

“Pam… its okay.”

 

“I’m not,” she says again. “Where are you?”

 

“In my car,” he sighs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

 

“Come over.” She’s not sure what makes her say it, but the silence on the other end of the line is twisting her stomach in anticipation.

 

“Where do you live?”

 

When she hangs up the phone she dashes over to the bathroom to see what her hair looks like, pulling out elastic bands and clips from her drawer, but settling finally on just pulling it back and away from her face. Her stomach is still a tangled knot and she can’t even find the words to say to him, to make him understand why she’s such a mess. How do you explain throwing away ten years for something that has yet to be realized?

 

She shouldn’t have invited him over; maybe he’ll get the wrong idea. She just wants to talk, but maybe he’ll think that she wants…

 

Maybe she’s just tired of being everyone’s disappointment.

 

It isn’t more than a few minutes before there’s a knock on the door and for some reason she doesn’t want to talk anymore. Talking is too hard and maybe she wants something that's easy for a change, no matter what the repercussions will be in the morning.

 

She doesn’t even wait until the door is fully open before she’s kissing him. His arms slip around her waist, lifting her away from the door so that he can kick it closed behind him.

 

She’s not sure why she’s rushing and fumbling to get him out of his clothing, but part of her feels as though if she stops to think about this it won’t happen, and she needs this to happen.

 

“I’m not Jim,” he says softly against her lips as she's pulling him into her bedroom. Her hands drop away from him.

 

“What?”

 

“I’m not,” he says. “If this is what it is then fine, but I need you to know that.”

 

“I know that,” she nods. His eyes are searching hers like he’s looking for an answer.

 

“I’m not Jim,” he says again. She kisses him hard in hopes that he’ll stop. He doesn’t say it again.

 

She’s never had a man in this bed before. Even when she got back together with Roy, she would go to his place. She wonders if he can tell that, or if tomorrow the sheets will still smell like him. If maybe the room will look a little different.

 

He pulls her closer to him underneath the covers and she can’t help but wonder if he has always been this much of a post-sex cuddler or if his relationship with Kelly had just ingrained it into him.

 

“Are you okay… about Kelly?” she asks. Somehow she can still make out his eyes in the dark.

 

“I’m actually… yes,” he says. “We weren’t right for each other. I’m glad that she’s… happy.”

 

She lays her head on his chest, letting him run his fingers through her curls.

 

“You know, I’m graduating in a few weeks,” he says softly. “I thought maybe… I mean, would you want to come?”

 

“Ryan…” she sighs softly.

 

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs. “Just thought I’d… ask.”

 

“I can’t,” she says.

 

“Because I’m not Jim?” His voice isn’t bitter or resentful, just resigned.

 

She’s not sure what to say and the silence between them is almost painful.

 

“Maybe,” she says softly. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You don’t need to be,” he sighs. “I already knew.”

 

He doesn’t say anything else after that and she falls to sleep listening to the thumping of his heart.

 

Her alarm is shrill and she fumbles to turn it off, rolling away from him as he yawns. The whole thing looks very different in the light.

 

He’s shorter than the man she had always envisioned would end up here. She had always worried that Jim would be uncomfortable sleeping in her bed or that his feet would hang off the edge and get cold in the middle of the night.

 

“I guess you better go,” she says softly as he sits up.

 

He kisses her lips once, his eyes still drooping a little with sleep. She kisses him again, partly because it feels like it’s her turn, partly because she can’t just sit there looking at him with his hair like that and rubbing his eyes and not kiss him. His hands find the back of her neck and she pulls away from his lips because its morning now and they aren’t drunk or on a boat. She’s run out of excuses.

 

“You going to go back to ignoring me?” he asks softly.

 

She’s lost for what to say again, but she’s been truthful with him up until now and she doesn’t want that to change.

 

“Probably,” she says.

 

“Right,” he nods slowly. He pulls on his clothing in silence and she idles by her closet, for some reason not wanting to start getting ready until he’s gone.

 

“Good luck with graduation,” she says softly as he reaches the door.

 

He looks at her once and nods. “Thanks.”

 

She’s not the first to work, leaving her stuck in the elevator with Kelly going on about her amazing date with Ken and how she promised herself she’d wait at least a few weeks before sleeping with him.

 

Kelly is saying something about Ken's friends being so awesome and not fratty at all (Is fratty a word? she wonders) and she finds herself just nodding and phasing in and out of the one-sided conversation.

 

Ryan’s already at his desk, his eyes trained on his computer monitor, when they walk in and Kelly quickly stops talking and walks quickly towards her desk in the back.

 

When Jim gets in he heads straight for her desk.

 

“Lunch today, Beesly?” he says, picking at the candy. “We’ve got plans to make.”

At lunch time Pam tries not to notice Karen watching her from across the room as Jim slips his coat on and helps her with hers. She also pretends not to notice that Ryan doesn’t look up from what he’s doing, not even once.

 

Their conversation on the way to Cuggino’s is a stilted mix of “How was your weekend?”s and “What did you do last night?”s. She wonders if he avoids saying “I slept with Karen” much the same way that she neglects to mention Ryan’s late night visit.

 

“So what are all these great ideas?” she asks, when they run out of awkward pleasantries.

 

“I want to replace Dwight’s glasses with some of those grocery store reading glasses so that he thinks he’s going blind,” he laughs. “I found an exact replica of his the other day.”

 

“No way,” she laughs. “He’ll so know that it’s you.”

 

“That’s why we’re going to print out a fake article about a new study that ties an over-exposure to paintball fumes with sudden vision loss,” he grins.

 

“Ah, nice one,” she smiles.

 

The gap of silence between them seems to stretch uncomfortably and she pulls her coat more tightly around her even though it isn’t cold out. Part of her wants to ask a million questions about the prank and maybe even suggest that they buy up a bunch of different strength glasses to make the transition more believable, but part of her is left thinking of a handkerchief and an empty hallway and all of the times when Jim just wasn’t there.

 

“Anything else?” she asks, wondering why he wanted an entire lunch break to talk about what they have already covered before reaching the restaurant.

 

“I just really wanted to get out of the office,” he sighs. “Hope that’s okay.”

 

She nods and he opens the door for her like he always has.

 

They sit at that same table as they did on her first day of work. It feels like that was a long time ago.

 

“I’ve missed this,” he says quietly as they look over their menus. She knows that he doesn’t just mean the pizza, but it sounds strange all the same.

 

She knows what he means. He means that he misses laughing and getting through the day together. He misses everything about them that she misses, but this isn’t that. This is her sitting and fidgeting with the buttons of her coat, trying to anticipate what he’ll say next and how she should respond. This is her thinking about Stamford, about Karen, and about where anything goes from here.

 

“I feel like we’ve wasted a lot of time, Pam,” he continues when she says nothing.

 

“It’s been a tough year,” she says. She thinks of how different things were this time last year, how different she was. She had been ready to walk down the aisle until he had put that seed of doubt in her mind. Well, maybe he hadn’t put it there so much as he had shed light on its existence. She had been stuck and she hadn’t even let herself realize it back then. He had been the one to…

 

She owed him everything then, didn’t she?

 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he sighs. “I wish I hadn’t left, Pam.”

 

When he says it she fumbles with her water glass, spilling a few drops onto her shirt. When did this Jim come back? She can’t even count the number of times she’s stared at the back of his head, wishing she could read his thoughts. Or how every time he spoke to her she’d spend the rest of her day analyzing everything from the words to his inflection.

 

“Me too,” she nods, but she’s not sure that she really means it. Jim leaving turned her life around. Jim leaving changed her. And she knows that she can’t wholeheartedly wish something like that away.

 

And then that part of her starts to creep up, the part that she’s always pushing down, pushing away. The part of her that wishes instead that maybe he just hadn’t come back.

 

“I feel like a different person than I was last year,” she says.

 

“Oh really?” he laughs a little.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing, it’s just… you were back with Roy only a few months ago. How is that different?”

 

“That doesn’t mean I hadn’t changed,” she furrows her eyebrows at him. “This time it was on my terms. I think I know myself better now… I know more what I want. Don’t you feel like you’ve changed at all?”

 

As he contemplates his answer, she finds herself wondering if he really has. The only real difference she can come up with is that he wears a suit jacket now and that he’s gotten a little better at hiding his feelings.

 

“I guess,” he shrugs. He reaches for her hand across the table, covering it with his. “I’m glad we went on that trip. I feel like… I couldn’t see you for a while, but that now I can see the person I cared so much about last year.”

 

“I thought you had gotten over it,” she says softly, watching his hand squeeze hers.

 

“I thought I had too,” he sighs. “I tried to, and I thought I had. Even you and Roy getting back together didn’t faze me that much… I guess the whole Ryan thing sort of put things back into… perspective.”

 

“Oh,” she nods, wondering why it took another person becoming interested in her for him to finally see her.

 

When he slides into her side of the booth and kisses her she kisses back, hoping to let her doubts and reservations wash away. She’s spent so many hours trying to relive that night in that darkened office in May and now its here, in a too-small restaurant booth in the middle of the day, and its what she's been waiting for, isn’t it?

 

Part of her can’t help but be a little impressed with this New Jim, the one who can tell her how he feels without a safety net, without another woman or a transfer to Connecticut waiting in his back pocket. This is a Jim that she doesn’t really know, but he’s trying and he’s changed and she wants to be able to just let go like he is. She owes him that much.

 

His hands on her face are sweaty and she can’t help but be distracted by it, part of her wishing that she could be the person she was a few months, or even weeks ago. The person who could have kissed him without a second thought.

 

She doesn’t ask about Karen, but she wonders when he broke up with her. If she was upset, or if she had told him that she hated him, but she can’t bring herself to ask because thinking of Karen hurts a little too much to linger on it. He holds her hand on the walk back to the office, but they don’t say anything more before returning to their respective desks.

 

She’s barely made a dent in the Sudoku puzzle she’s working on when Karen walks over to Jim’s new/old desk.

 

“What time is that movie tonight?” Pam hears her asking. She can tell that she's trying not to look towards reception. There's something unsure in her voice that suddenly makes Pam feel overwhelmingly guilty.

 

“Oh, um… seven I think,” he says quickly.

 

His eyes flit up to meet hers and they tell her everything she should have already known. She wants to scream, or to throw things, or to make a huge scene. He’s not a newer version of himself, he’s still holding onto the railing like he always has. And what’s worse is that she’s not even that angry with him because she should have known. What’s worse is that she’s maybe just angry with herself for not having the good sense to ask.

 

When a message materializes on her computer screen, all it says is this: I’m sorry. I had to be sure that you felt the same way first.

 

She clicks the window closed and avoids looking in his direction. Somehow she’s never felt so betrayed. Should she be this angry? Could she be, rightfully? He was just playing it safe after all. Just solidifying his next move. He was just holding on to his safety net in case he had to hear the words “I can’t” again. She had thought that by now he might have realized that if he hadn’t jumped ship so quickly last spring things between them might have turned out so differently. If he had just given her a chance and actually put himself out there rather than already having his get-away planned there never would have had to be any Connecticut.

 

Its like he could never really give her the chance to say yes.

 

She suddenly can’t just sit there at her desk any longer, she needs to go somewhere, anywhere. But once she gets there, Kelly’s desk seems like possibly the worst idea she could have had.

 

“So we’re still on for seven, right?” Kelly asks cheerily, as though she has any idea what she’s referring to.

 

“Seven? For what?”

 

“For dinner, remember?” Kelly laughs. “You’re going out with me and Ken and Ken’s roommate?”

 

She searches her brain for anything that could possibly make this conversation make sense to her. “When did I say that?”

 

“In the elevator?” Kelly rolls her eyes. “I asked if you wanted to double and you nodded! We’re going to have the best time, just wear something hot.”

 

She’s about to protest, to tell her that she’s made a horrible mistake, but all she can think of is Jim kissing her, and Karen at his desk, and Ryan not turning around… and she finds herself agreeing to go for a second time.

 

That night, sitting at a booth with Kelly feeding Ken from her own plate, Pam takes a generous sip from her martini. The guy he brought is actually kind of cute. Nice even.

 

He’s a journalist for the Scranton Times and he seems smart and ambitious and talented. And yet it doesn’t feel easy.

 

“Pam?” Kelly says loudly and she snaps back into focus.

 

“What? Sorry,” she says quickly.

 

“Ben was asking if you did watercolors?” Kelly says insistently.

 

“Oh, yeah, a little,” she says to him. “I’m really not that experienced.”

 

“Not everything is about experience,” Ben smiles at her. Kelly is practically beaming. Pam really just wants to go home.

 

There’s a muffled rattling noise and everyone at the table automatically reaches for their respective cell phones.

 

“Is it yours, Pam?” Kelly asks, frowning at her own blank screen.

 

“Yeah,” she says softly, covering the phone with her hand.

 

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Kelly continues.

 

“No, it’s… rude,” she glances around the table quickly. Kelly grabs the phone from her hands before she has a chance to stop her.

 

“Oh my gosh,” Kelly’s mouth falls open as she stares at the screen. “Pam, this is Ryan calling.”

 

Pam grits her teeth as Kelly slides the phone across the table and excuses herself to the bathroom.

 

“I’ll… be right back,” Pam explains quickly to their abandoned guests, dashing after her.

 

Kelly is pacing around the tile when she reaches the bathroom.

 

“Kelly, I’m…” she begins, although she’s not quite sure how to continue.

 

“He totally overheard us today, didn’t he?” Kelly asks quickly. “I mean, wow, I knew he was hung up on me, but calling you to check up on our double date??”

 

“Wait… what?” Pam asks.

 

“I mean, why else would he be calling, right? Its not like you guys hang out… it’s so weird,” Kelly says, wringing her hands together. “I mean, boys, right? When you want them to pay attention to you they act like you don’t exist, and when you don’t they go all out of their way to check up on you!”

 

“Catch-22,” Pam nods. Kelly looks at her as though she’s just spoken in a foreign tongue.

 

“Oh my god, Pam,” she says suddenly. “What if he starts, like, stalking me?? Like some crazy person? This could totally ruin my whole relationship with Ken… what am I going to do??”

 

“I’m sure he’s not stalking you,” Pam reassures her. “Maybe he’s just… dealing with it in his own way?”

 

“Either way, I better talk some sense into him tomorrow,” Kelly insists. “Cosmo says that it’s a total killer on a new relationship if you keep having to talk about your ex. Gosh, I must be really hard to get over.”

 

“I can’t imagine,” Pam nods. “You know… I’m actually not feeling all that well. I might have to call it a night.”

 

“Oh my god, really? That sucks, you and Ben were totally hitting it off!”

 

“Yeah… totally,” she says. Kelly looks disappointed and somehow the guilt of her face leads her to giving this Ben guy her phone number before excusing herself for the evening.

 

As she’s walking out of the restaurant she glances at her phone. No message.

 

She decides to turn the power off, burying it deep inside her purse in case she might be tempted to call.

 

**

 

Karen doesn’t come in the next morning.

 

Pam can’t seem to tear her eyes away from the empty desk, the knot in her stomach biting at her insides. Jim’s already been to her desk three times, presenting her with the replacement Dwight glasses and finalizing plans on the faux-article.

 

She spends most of the morning alternating between answering the phone and typing the article, with Jim’s encouragement over instant messenger. When ten o’clock hits she needs caffeine and, although she can’t explain why, as she passes Karen’s empty desk she finds herself running her fingers along the edge.

 

“Oh my god, Pam,” Kelly says, cornering her against the soda machine. “Ben was so totally into you last night. Definitely expect a call.”

 

“That’s great,” she forces a smile. “Um… how did your talk with Ryan go?”

 

“Oh wow, it was brutal,” she sighs. “I mean he hardly said anything so I just kept talking and talking and saying the same things like over and over. And like that was really weird because he usually doesn’t say much, but he does usually cut me off eventually, but he just kept letting me talk and talk. It was so weird. But I think he got the message. Is that terrible? I feel sort of terrible.”

 

“It’s not terrible,” Pam shakes her head. “You said what you needed to say.”

 

“I know, right?” Kelly leans in closer, her voice lowering. “Pam, could I ask you a favor?”

 

“Yeah… okay,” she nods tentatively.

 

“Um… do you think you could like, go check on him? Make sure he’s okay? I mean, I would totally do it myself but that would just send all sorts of mixed signals, right?”

 

“Oh, yeah, you’re probably right,” she says. “Um, I guess I could talk to him.”

 

“God, Pam, you’re a saint,” Kelly sighs before disappearing back to her corner.

 

She’s not sure if she actually plans on talking to him. She knows that she probably should and that if he was calling he was probably calling for a reason. Maybe she didn’t want to know what that reason was.

 

As luck would have it, as she walks back through the kitchen he is there, leaning against the counter. Almost like he had been reading her thoughts and was waiting for her. Almost like he knew that she wanted him to be there. She pushes away the thought. She only wants to check up on him… for Kelly.

 

“Hey,” she says as he pours his coffee.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Um, Kelly wanted me to…”

 

“Check up on me?” he laughs. “Yeah, that was a fun talk this morning. Thanks for that.”

 

“Sorry,” she grimaces a little.

 

“No, it’s not your fault. I’m used to it,” he shrugs. “What are you up to? You’ve looked… busy today.”

 

“Oh, right,” she smiles. “Just kind of messing with Dwight I guess. Something to pass the time.”

 

“Oh,” he nods. When his eyes meet hers she can feel it in her stomach. “I thought you liked Dwight.”

 

She’s surprised by what he says, although she’s not sure if it’s because he’s right or because he remembered.

 

“Why did you call?” she asks in hopes of changing the subject.

 

“I just wanted to make something… clearer,” he says, swallowing a gulp of coffee.

 

“What’s that?” she asks tentatively, wishing she could turn and run back out the door.

 

“I’m not Jim,” he says softly, taking a few steps towards her. She takes a step back.

 

“Yeah, you… mentioned that.”

 

He’s staring at her so intensely that she almost forgets that they are at work and that at least a few people can probably see them right now.

 

“Which means that I’m not moving to another state, and I’m not going to go out and find some replacement girlfriend,” he says simply. “I’m not giving up on this. I just wanted you to know that so that if you decide to stop running from it you’ll know that the door is open.”

 

At that moment Kevin walks out of the bathroom and she nearly leaps out of her skin.

 

“Hey Kev,” Ryan says to him as though he’s completely unfazed.

 

“Hey man, you should check out my Fantasy Baseball roster,” Kevin says to him and Ryan follows him out of the room without saying another word to her. She feels like her feet are rooted to the tile and her voice is stuck in her throat, and its all that she can do to keep from calling after him because if she does she knows she’ll have no idea what to say next.

 

“Pam, did you print out the article?” Jim asks, walking in past them.

 

“Oh, um, not yet,” she says softly, leaning against the counter for support.

 

“What’s wrong?” he grins, digging in the fridge for something.

 

“Oh, nothing… it’s just,” she sighs. “Don’t you think we’re being a little mean?

 

“What?” he laughs, biting into a carrot.

 

“I mean… with Dwight,” she shrugs.

 

“Pam, it’s been over three years now. He’d probably be disappointed with us if we didn’t mess with him,” he says with a grin. Somehow that answer doesn’t make her feel much better, because even though they are going through the motions of their old selves, it doesn’t feel quite the same.

 

“I’m thinking about applying for this graphic design school,” she finds herself saying.

 

“Are you serious? That’s great, Pam,” he smiles. “Like, doing the program Dunder-Mifflin is offering?”

 

“No,” she says. “It’s in New York, but it’s not with the company. I’d… have to quit.”

 

He mouths an “oh” and goes quiet.

 

“Yeah,” she says, staring at the soda can in her hands.

 

“I didn’t realize you had been thinking about that,” he says.

 

“Don’t you ever want anything more than Dunder-Mifflin?” she asks because sometimes she’s not sure that he does.

 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “When Stamford closed Jan told me that if I came back here to be Michael’s number two that I’d be in line for her job when she gets promoted. I mean, they’re never going to promote Michael, so… it’s only a matter of time, right?”

 

“Yeah…” she nods. “That’s great.” She wants to remind him of all the times he talked about throwing himself in front of a train over getting stuck here forever. She wants to ask him if he wants to think about paper for the rest of his life, or if Dunder-Mifflin is yet another fallback, just one that has nothing to do with her.

 

“Even getting Michael’s job would be a big step up, you know?”

 

“I already got in,” she says suddenly. “To the school. I got in, I just haven’t… registered yet.”

 

“Wow,” he says slowly. “When would it… start?”

 

“Summer,” she says.

 

“That’s soon,” he nods. “I mean, have you thought about doing it through the company? You’d still be able to work and everything.”

 

“I’ve thought about it,” she says. “But I think maybe I need to get out of here now or I’ll never do it.”

 

“I’ll break up with her,” he says softly, not looking at her.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I’ll break up with her, just stay. Just tell me to.”

 

“I’m not going to tell you to break up with her,” Pam shakes her head.

 

“Why not?”

 

“If you want to break up then… that’s up to you, not me, Jim.”

 

“It’s always been up to you.”

 

When he kisses her its like he needs her. She wonders if he forgets where they are and how many people could possibly be watching them through the glass, or if this is really what makes him a whole person.

 

She finds herself asking herself how the one thing that she’s been wanting for so long could possibly hurt this much, and realizes that for the second time this week, she’s run out of excuses.

 

They aren’t in a parking lot, deciding the future of her relationship with Roy, they aren’t waiting for one another to just come around and figure out what’s right in front of them. Right now, they are just standing in the kitchen at work, and he’s kissing her. The lights are in her eyes and the counter is digging into her back so much that its sure to leave a mark, and those are the things she’s thinking about when she should be thinking about his lips. About him.

 

“Jim,” she pulls away from him. “Haven’t you ever just wanted to do something for yourself?”

 

As she walks out of the kitchen she can hear him saying her name, but she has to get out of there because nothing about this is easy.

 

Ryan is staring at her as she gathers up her things, his eyes watching her like he’s come to some sort of slow realization.

 

“Would you tell Michael that I had to leave early?” she asks him and he tightens his lips and just nods.

 

When she gets back to her apartment she folds her completed registration form into an envelope, sealing it with a stamp (one that doesn’t say “love” on it) because maybe she’s the one that really needs to do something for herself after all.

Pam almost considers skipping her last day at Dunder-Mifflin.

 

She knows that Michael has been hard at work with the party planning committee to plan some sort of ridiculously-themed monstrosity. On Tuesday she overheard him saying to Angela that it should be “Sex and the City” themed since she is single, moving to New York, and (to put it in his words) "getting older." Angela had seemed understandably appalled by the idea (especially when he suggested that she could play Samantha) and had assured him that she had the preparations well covered.

 

She’s been dreading this day for the past two weeks, ever since she turned in her notice. When she had handed it to Michael he looked like she had just hit him in the grief bone with a sledgehammer. It was almost enough to make her wish that she could take it back, but instead she had asked him if he could please not mention it to anyone else in the office for at least a week. He had reluctantly agreed, spending those next five days sulking around her desk enough to alert the entire office that something was up.

 

“I heard she’s pregnant,” she overheard Meredith telling Phyllis one afternoon, “and that it’s Jim’s.”

 

After that she had walked right into Michael’s office and told him that he didn’t have to keep her secret any longer. In fact, she was surprised that he had managed to hold it in this long.

 

“Everyone, I’d like your attention please,” Michael had walked out into the office, putting on his “brave” face for the cameras.

 

“Michael, we’re really busy, can this wait until the end of the day?” Angela said to him, knowing full well that it was a useless protest.

 

“No, Angela, this cannot wait,” Michael shook his head adamantly.

 

“You already made us sit in the conference room for an hour this morning talking about that stupid model show,” Oscar rolled his eyes.

 

“First of all, America’s Next Top Model is not stupid—its ground breaking television! And you of all people should enjoy that show, Oscar,” Michael says. “And Stanley too, of course.”

 

“I do not watch that show,” Stanley rolled his eyes.

 

“Tyra Banks? Black role model? Come on, Stanley, she’s like Oprah Light! I bet your daughter just loves it.”

 

“Michael, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” Phyllis had finally asked, bringing him back on topic.

 

“Oh… that,” Michael heaved a large sigh. “Pam, come stand next to me.”

 

All eyes in the office had immediately focused in on her and she reluctantly stepped towards Michael. Jim turned all the way around in his desk chair to face them and she found herself focusing on his computer screen to keep from meeting anyone’s eyes.

 

“Our little… Pambi is leaving us,” Michael choked. “Sh-she’s…”

 

“Wait, what??” Kelly’s jaw dropped.

 

“Are you okay, Pam?” Phyllis leaned forward, obviously concerned.

 

“I’m moving to New York,” Pam jumped in, realizing that Michael was a little too emotional to finish his sentence. “I got into graphic design school, so I’m moving there.”

 

She was surprised when people actually started to clap for her, throwing out congratulations, although Jim was running a hand through his hair and Kelly looked like someone just told her that they stopped making her favorite lipstick. Phyllis jumped up to give her a hug and, over her shoulder, she could see that Ryan wasn’t clapping, but he was smiling at her and, for the first time in a week, she let herself look at him.

 

When she caught his eyes he stuck both of his thumbs up at her, the expression on his face betraying the fact that he obviously knew what a dorky gesture it was in the first place.

 

She’s not sure why she’s thinking about that as she sits in her car in the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot, her fingers dancing nervously on the steering wheel. It’s her last day. The day she used to think would have happened about three years before now. She may as well get it over with.

 

When she walks into the office she’s greeted with a lens in her face and she’s rushed into the conference room before she can even take off her coat. At least this part she probably won’t miss.

 

“How do I feel about it being my last day? Um, its… weird, I guess. But a good weird.”

 

As the camera guy asks her questions she can’t help but notice that the conference room walls are covered in construction paper skyscrapers. Angela really went all out on this one. She should remember to thank her.

 

And then the inevitable is brought up, and even though she’s been bracing herself for the question all morning she suddenly forgets her well thought out response.

 

“Oh, I don’t know how Jim feels about it… fine I guess. We haven’t really… I think he’s fine.”

 

She actually has no idea if he’s fine or not fine, and she’s avoided finding that out for the past week. Somehow she doesn’t think that will be so easy to do today.

 

When they finally release her from the room she walks back to her desk and Jim’s waiting there with a cardboard box. For a second she worries that maybe he heard what they had been asking her a moment ago.

 

“Thought you might need this,” he shrugs, handing it to her.

 

“Oh right, thanks,” she gives him a tight-lipped smile in return.

 

“Listen… do you think that we could, I don’t know, talk later? This being your last day and all?”

 

“Yeah… okay,” she nods and he reluctantly returns to his own desk.

 

She settles in to the task of packing up the last few years of her life, realizing how silly some of the things she’s saved actually are. She debates about keeping some of it, but in her new life what use is she going to have for a used yogurt lid on a string of paper clips?

 

She had expected to feel a lot more nostalgic as she cleans out her desk, but actually she is surprised to find it somewhat liberating. Part of her even wishes that she could put some of it through the shredder instead of just tossing it into the waste bin, but that probably would be considered overkill.

 

“Pam-bone!” Michael bangs on her desk suddenly. “Did you… finish cleaning out the place?”

 

“Just about,” she smiles at him as she pulls down the last few photographs and slips them into the box.

 

“Pam-tastic!” he grins and she realizes that this is probably going to be the theme of the day. She wonders if she’s going to miss Michael. “Ryan! Could you come up here please?”

 

“What’s up?” Ryan asks, walking up to the desk and smiling at her.

 

“I am going to need you to man the phones today, at least until the par-tay,” Michael says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Can you handle it?”

 

“Not a problem,” Ryan nods.

 

“What am I going to do then?” she asks him, although she probably should have been anticipating this.

 

“It’s your last day! You are going to be Pam-pered, not stuck behind a desk answering phones. So, as soon as you finish packing you can just head on in to my office.”

 

“Is this a send-off or a punishment?” Pam cringes as Michael disappears into his office.

 

“Do you even have to ask?” Ryan laughs, leaning against the desk. “Listen… I should probably warn you about what Michael’s planning.”

 

“Oh god, please don’t tell me it has something to do with…”

 

“Sex and the City? Yeah, and he’s going all out. He held a mandatory Party Planning Committee meeting at his condo last night and made us watch four hours worth of episodes. He’s assigned parts, Pam. This is as serious as it gets.”

 

“Wait, what… is it like a play?”

 

“I’m not sure… somehow I think he’s thinking of it more as performance art, if you can believe that.”

 

“Yeah, unfortunately, I can.”

 

“Pamsicle!”

 

“I better get in there,” she says, fumbling past him as they switch places. Her breath catches a little when his hand grazes the small of her back, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he settles into her desk chair.

 

She spends most of the next few hours trapped in Michael’s office as he recounts “highlights” of their years together, referring to her as the “Bonnie” to his “Clyde”, although she’s not quite sure what he means by that.

 

“Michael, I actually… got you something. Well, I mean, I made something for you,” she says when he finally stops chattering.

 

“Oh, Pam, you didn’t have to…” Michael looks like he’s getting emotional again so she quickly stands up and tells him that she’ll go get it for him.

 

Walking back to her desk, it’s a little bizarre seeing Ryan sitting there in her place. He’s done it plenty of times before, especially when he was still just the temp and Michael would send her out on random errands or ban Ryan from staff meetings that the rest of them were forced to attend. She’d always end up finding hours of pirated television shows on her desktop, which she’d watch secretly when she was sure no one was looking.

 

“Dunder-Mifflin, this is Ryan,” he’s saying into the phone as she approaches, and for some reason she’s overcome with laughter and ends up having to lean against the desk to support herself.

 

“Hold on, I’ll transfer you,” he manages to say, but he’s obviously holding in a laugh and he’s shaking his head at her like he wants to strangle her a little.

 

“I’m glad you find this so funny,” he rolls his eyes at her, but he’s smiling still.

 

“It just doesn’t really have the same ring to it,” she shrugs, before pointing at the neatly wrapped package that’s resting against the wall behind him. “Mind grabbing that for me?”

 

When he hands her the package his fingers brush against her wrist and she jumps backwards like it’s a reflex. She wants to thank him, but then the phone’s ringing again and his attention is back on doing her job and she ends up practically tripping over herself to get back into Michael’s office.

 

“It’s nothing much, I just thought…” she says, handing Michael the gift.

 

He’s tearing through the paper like an over-anxious kid on Christmas morning and, maybe for the first time in all the years she’s working for him, he looks like he’s at a loss for words.

 

It’s a pretty simple drawing, really. Just something she sketched one lazy afternoon when Michael was at his desk doing actual work.

 

Before she realizes what he’s doing he’s out of his chair and hugging her and it reminds her of her art show and how every once in a while, despite himself, Michael can manage to say just the right thing.

 

When she pulls away from him she has to wipe her eyes a little on her sleeve which is utterly ridiculous seeming because it’s Michael for God’s sake and why should she be getting this emotional anyway? She hopes that he doesn’t notice, and he probably doesn’t because he’s too busy wiping at his own eyes.

 

“You know, Pam. If I ever had a daughter…”

 

“I know,” she says quickly, partly because she isn’t sure whether what he’s going to say is going to be really touching, or if it is going to be completely inappropriate and ruin the moment. She’s not sure which would be worse. “I’m going to go… get some coffee. I’ll be right back.”

 

“You okay?” Jim’s asking as she walks quickly out of the office.

 

“Oh yeah, I’m fine, just tired,” she says, pointing towards the break room. “I’m just going to…”

 

“Yeah, okay,” he nods and watches her go. It’s a strange feeling because even though they’ve always shared every strange encounter either of them has ever had with Michael, for some reason this one she kind of just wants to keep for herself.

 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” Kelly appears beside her as she pours a cup of coffee. For someone that talks as much as she does she sure knows how to sneak up on a person.

 

“I know its kind of surreal, right?”

 

“You’ll call me, right?” Kelly continues, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “I mean… I’m not going to never talk to you again, right?”

 

“Of course, Kelly,” she reassures her. “You could come visit me in the city. It’d be fun.”

 

“Oh my god!” Kelly envelops her in a tight embrace. “That would be so rad. I’ll take you shopping to like all of the best places.”

 

Pam smiles after she pulls away. Maybe Kelly visiting would be fun.

 

“Oh, and you totally owe me today, just so you know,” Kelly chatters, digging in the fridge for her Diet Coke.

 

“Owe you?”

 

“Well, I’m sure someone warned you about this Sex and the City thing Michael’s got planned. Well, he wanted to be Mr. Big, but that is so totally creepy, right? Anyway I convinced him that Jan would be jealous and that Ryan should be Mr. Big because he totally looks like a younger, hotter version of him anyways. Plus, Ryan’s seen like all of the DVDs because I used to make him watch them with me and he says that he only likes the sex stuff, but I caught him almost crying during the last episode. He is such a sap.”

 

“I’m still not really… what exactly is he planning anyway?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s like not really a play and he said something about just setting the mood and staying young and hip so that it feels like New York or something. Oh and Michael made Ryan practice saying ‘absofuckinglutely’ for at least twenty minutes.”

 

“Oh… wow, okay. Who are you?”

 

“Oh, I’m totally Samantha which is awesome because I’m like not a slut at all, but sometimes it fun to pretend right? Michael wanted Angela to do it but she said no, so he picked me! She was totally wrong for it anyways.”

 

“That’s great, Kelly,” she smiles at her as Angela breezes through the room, looking even more stressed than usual and barely giving her a second glance.

 

Somehow Kelly manages to keep her in the break room for the next twenty minutes talking about the best places to go in New York to scout out celebrities. By the time they walk back into the office Michael’s got everyone gathered in the conference room for the party.

 

When she walks into the room Michael starts clapping excitedly and makes her stand at his side.

 

“Alright everyone, I think we all know that our little Pamcake is leaving us today, so my lady, for you today we have turned the office into….” Now he’s doing that horrible, spit-laced drum roll that he does sometimes when something big is about to happen. “..Pam in the City!”

 

“What does that mean?” Jim asks, obviously left out of the party planning loop.

 

“It means, that Pam is Carrie Bradshaw and, if she will agree to it, I will be publishing a new section in our weekly company newsletter that will be written by Pam (via the internet) about her adventures in the Big Apple. How does that sound, Pam??”

 

“Oh, um, that sounds great,” she forces a smile because he looks so incredibly proud of the idea.

 

“That way, we can all still keep up to date with your life,” he beams, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Plus, you can write about anything. Carrie usually writes about sex, so that would be fine, you know, any one-night stands you might have up there, or celebrity encounters, or, you know… your art could be another thing I guess if you run out of the juicy stuff.”

 

“Wow… okay,” she nods. “Good ideas.”

 

“And, here we’ve got your lady friend entourage,” he walks over to Kelly, Meredith, and Karen (who seem to be portraying Samantha, Miranda, and Charlotte, respectively). Meredith brings her a cosmopolitan that’s as pink as bubblegum and she takes it gratefully.

 

“And Oscar will be playing Stanford, the bald, gay friend,” Michael moves on, handing Oscar a pair of glasses to put on.

 

“Why me, Michael?” Oscar sighs.

 

“Because of, you know,” Michael raises his eyebrows suggestively, but Oscar stares right back at him, obviously not amused.

 

“Okay, what about… Kevin?” Michael turns toward him, extending the glasses.

 

“Because I’m bald?” Kevin asks, taking the glasses and slipping them on anyway.

 

“Dwight, you will be playing the role of Steve, the bartender with one testicle,” Michael moves on and Dwight pumps his fist in the air like he’s just won something.

 

“Jim, you can be Aidan because you’re pretty tall…”

 

“Who’s Aidan?” Jim scrunches his eyebrows.

 

“Oh he’s totally Carrie’s boyfriend and he so in love with her, but she cheats on him with Mr. Big and breaks his heart and then later they get back together and he wants to marry her because he’s like so in love with her, but then she decides she doesn’t want to marry him and so they break up,” Kelly explains quickly and Meredith is nodding along beside her.

 

“So, who does Carrie end up with then?” Jim rolls his eyes in Pam’s direction which makes her need to restrain a laugh.

 

“Mr. Big!” Michael exclaims. “Oh, man I almost forgot the most important part! Ryan, why aren’t you changed yet?”

 

“Michael, do I really need to change? Nobody else had to change,” Ryan frowns.

 

“Not true, I made Karen change into a dress,” Michael explains. “Because Charlotte is much more feminine than pantsuits.”

 

Karen gets this look on her face once he says it that lets Pam know that her wardrobe must have been a very long and grueling debate between the two of them. She gives Karen a sympathetic look, which she returns with only half of a smile.

 

“I still don’t see why…”

 

“Look, you wanted to be Mr. Big? Well, this is what it takes,” Michael says.

 

“I didn’t say that, that was Kelly’s idea--”

 

“Ryan! This is important,” Michael silences him by resorting to that whiny toddler voice and Ryan reluctantly walks out of the conference room.

 

“Michael, it’s really okay, this is great as it is,” Pam pleads, but Michael pats her head and assures her that this party is going to be perfect.

 

Everyone disperses into clumped conversations as Angela and Meredith pass out cosmopolitans and she makes her way around the room, saying goodbyes to her co-workers and promising to keep in touch.

 

“This is really lovely,” she says, walking up to Angela who is standing alone in the corner of the room.

 

“Thank you, Pam,” she nods curtly, but Pam can see that her eyes are filling up a little. “I’m really going to…”

 

“Me too,” Pam finishes the thought for her, and its strange because she really might miss Angela. They’ve become sort of unlikely allies over the past year.

 

“I just want to thank you, for… helping me,” she says, her lips pursed together to keep them from trembling.

 

“Promise you’ll send me a Save-the-date?” Pam asks softly, tilting her head in Dwight’s direction and leaning closer to her so that no one else can hear.

 

Angela actually manages a laugh and nods, sniffing back her tears and quickly excusing herself from the conversation. Pam has to take a moment to regain her composure, wondering when today turned into one big cry-fest when the day isn’t even over yet.

 

She’s talking with Meredith and Phyllis about some of the best restaurants to visit in New York when Ryan walks back in, wearing the same dark suit he wore to Phyllis’ wedding and holding about a dozen red balloons in his hand.

 

“Yes!” Michael claps him on the back enthusiastically. “The piece de la resistance!”

 

“What do I do now?” Ryan asks him and Michael sighs loudly in frustration.

 

“Come on, man, we rehearsed this,” he says, pointing in Pam’s direction.

 

His shoulders slump a little and he’s obviously embarrassed, but he walks across the room and presents her the balloons.

 

“Thanks,” she says softly, wondering for a second how she didn’t notice what a great suit that was when they were at the wedding.

 

Suddenly Michael is beside her whispering and giggling into her ear, telling her what he wants her to say. She can see Jim standing behind Ryan, downing the rest of his drink in a few short gulps.

 

“Are you serious?” she asks him, but he looks so suddenly disappointed that she turns to Ryan and does what Michael wants her to.

 

“Um… have-have you ever been in love?”

 

Ryan glances up at Michael, who urges him on with his eyes and, as he catches her eyes finally, a grin spreads across his face.

 

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

 

“Bravo!” Michael whoops, and Kelly starts clapping like she’s watching her favorite scene played out in front of her. “Now, on with the party!”

 

Ryan’s eyes are still holding on to hers and she feels like her feet have been bolted to the ground until Meredith walks between them.

 

“These are great,” Pam turns to Michael, who’s handing her another drink and saying things like “Nothing's too good for my girl.”

 

That dissolves into him serenading her with an impromptu rendition of the song ‘My Girl’ to which Andy (who has only been back for a few days now) chimes in with the percussion line.

 

“Oh my God, remember how sad that movie was? With the bees?” Kelly is saying once he’s finished and she nods in agreement, noticing that Karen’s sitting at her desk, her drink dangling from her fingertips as she stares into nothing.

 

“I’ll be right back,” she tells Kelly, making her way out of the conference room.

 

“Hey… you okay?” she puts a hand on Karen’s shoulder, startling her.

 

“Jim and I broke up. Last night,” Karen explains in the same honest way that Pam has always sort of envied.

 

“Oh my god, I’m really sorry.” She puts her hand on Karen’s hand and squeezes.

 

“Are you?” Karen meets her eyes, and she’s not exactly smiling, but she’s not exactly not either.

 

Pam takes a moment to consider it, because she wants to be as honest with Karen as Karen has been with her. She owes her that now.

 

“I am.”

 

“It’s okay, I mean, I’ve kind of just been delaying the inevitable. He just… it was just time.”

 

“What are you going to do?” She wonders, but she doesn’t ask who ended it. Maybe that’s not really what matters anyway.

 

“I don’t know, I mean, I don’t want to quit my job or anything, but I have been thinking about New York for a while.”

 

“Really? Maybe we should be roommates or something. I don’t know how I’m supposed to afford an apartment on my own up there.”

 

“You think?” Karen looks at her skeptically, but she’s smiling and then Pam’s smiling and then they are both laughing again like friends who never had a person between them.

 

“I think I’d like that,” Pam says once she’s composed her laughter.

 

“Me too. Maybe that’s something to think about,” Karen says, squeezing her hand.

 

“Well, you’ve got my number,” she grins, but suddenly Kelly is rushing past them like she’s upset.

 

Karen assures her that she’s fine, nodding in Kelly’s direction and she finds herself following Kelly into the women’s room.

 

She's leaning against the sink crying big salty tears, her makeup smeared almost comically across her cheeks

 

“Kelly… are you okay?”

 

“No,” she sniffs, leaning against the counter for support. “Ryan’s quitting. He just told me. He hasn’t even told Michael yet because he didn’t want to ruin your day.”

 

“He… is? Did he say why?” she asks nervously, wondering if she should get out of there before Kelly attacks her or something.

 

“Oh Pam, it’s all my fault,” she wails. “I broke his heart and now he’s throwing his life away because he can’t stand to be around me any more.”

 

“Is that what he said?”

 

“Not like, in words or anything. Actually he said he wants to focus on his career now that he’s graduating, but I think he’s totally lying. I ruined his life, Pam, how can I even live with myself??”

 

“Maybe its good for him, maybe he’ll do something more with his life now and he’ll thank you for it someday,” she offers, hoping to calm her down at least a little.

 

“Maybe you’re right, Pam,” Kelly sniffs, standing up straight. “Maybe I inspired him to do great things, like Joey did for Dawson. And someday he’ll make a show that chronicles his first love with me and how our relationship totally changed the course of his whole life even if we weren’t meant to be together forever.”

 

“Yeah... that’s kind of specific, but maybe,” Pam nods and Kelly hugs her tightly.

 

“Oh, Pam, what am I going to do without you?? You’re so smart.”

 

“That’s why there’s cell phones,” Pam says, and the way that Kelly is smiling at that tells her that she can probably expect a much larger phone bill in the months to come.

 

At the end of the day she busies herself giving hugs and exchanging phone numbers. Phyllis is sniffling and promising to visit the first chance she gets because Bob Vance does a lot of business in the city. Kevin gives her one last fist-pound after she promises to hire his band for whenever she does finally get married, and Creed reminds her to be careful in Detroit.

 

“When you get to New York try and scout out a grocery store that sells fresh produce,” Dwight says gravely, handing her a printed-out list of Schrute-approved vegetable vendors. “And keep either a whistle or mace on your person at all times. Preferably both.”

 

When Dwight reaches out to shake her hand she hugs him instead and says “thank you” when maybe what she really means is “I’m sorry.” Angela hugs her tightly and reminds her that cats are perfect pets for people living in a city, if she ever wants to reconsider. She finds herself wondering if maybe a cat might be nice company after all.

 

Michael’s sobbing incoherently so she just promises to visit and to give her a call if he’s ever up visiting Jan, even though she may regret saying that later. When she kisses Toby on the cheek, he looks at her with what looks like regret before he kisses her forehead and says goodbye.

 

“This is it, huh,” Ryan says when she gets to him. He squeezes both of her hands in his and then she hugs him and says “I’m sorry.” He says “I understand”, and she can’t help but think that maybe he really does. He kisses her once, his lips lingering a moment too long for it to be considered friendly, even though they’re in the office and there’s still Oscar and Jim waiting behind him, because he really doesn’t seem to care who sees it. As she says goodbye to Oscar she tries not to watch him walking out the door. She thinks that if she tries hard enough she can convince herself that she’s only almost crying because she’ll probably never see Oscar again.

 

“We should talk,” Jim says when they are the only two left.

 

“I know, but what else is there to say?” she sighs.

 

“Karen and I are over.”

 

“I know,” she nods.

 

“Are you with Ryan?” he asks suddenly.

 

“Why would you think that?”

 

“Because… I heard you that night,” he says softly and she knows that he’s talking about the boat.

 

“Does that night even matter any more?” she sighs.

 

“Maybe. Only if it matters to you.”

 

“What do you want me to say, Jim?” she asks because she’s tired of guessing. Tired of reading between the lines of “it’s very cute” and “any real potential there?”

 

“Just… let me come with you. I’ll talk to Jan. I’m sure I can get her to transfer me, it just might take a few weeks.”

 

He looks hopeful for the first time in maybe a year, and he’s looking at her like maybe she can fix everything that’s wrong in his life, but she wonders if that’s something that anyone can really live up to. She pulls her hands out of his and picks up the cardboard box from her desk.

 

“We can make this work,” he says, because maybe he believes it, or because maybe he just has to try.

 

“I don’t know that it’s supposed to work. It… it doesn’t really feel right anymore.”

 

“How could this not be right, Pam? I mean, you won’t even give it a chance?”

 

“Jim, there’s no one in my life that I owe more to than you. You woke me up last year. And you really are my best friend, but…”

 

“But what? Doesn’t that mean anything?”

 

“It means a lot. It means everything, but… last year you helped me to be honest with myself. I have to keep being honest with myself or it was all for nothing.”

 

“Pam, please, you have to at least give me a chance.”

 

“I don’t know, Jim, I…” she trails off, something in the cardboard box in her arms catching her eye. Jim sees it too.

 

“Just come over tonight,” his voice is lower now and he’s stepping closer to her. “Please.”

 

“Jim…”

 

“Just think about it.”

 

“I will… I have to go,” she blinks back a few tears and makes her way out the door. She bypasses the elevator entirely, taking the stairs instead, the contents of the box clattering around as her heels click on the steps.

 

When she finally reaches her car she dumps the box in the passenger seat and, once she’s safely inside, she allows herself to pluck the trophy from the top of the heap. And, although she knows what it says without having to read it, she finds herself running her thumb over the engraved letters: RYAN HOWARD – Hottest in the Office.

A knock on the window makes her yelp in surprise. Jim’s standing there with the balloons.

 

“You forgot these,” he says through the glass before she has a chance to roll the window down.

 

“Oh, thanks.” She unlocks the back door and he pushes the mess of balloons into her back seat. They diffuse throughout the back of the car, filling her rear view mirror with a brilliant red.

 

“Seriously, come by tonight. Any time you want.” He leans in through her window and kisses her like there’s nothing else in the world that could make him happy.

 

“I’ll see you…” she nods, putting her car in reverse so that he won’t see her tears. She doesn’t say when on purpose, because she’s not really sure yet when that will be.

 

When she gets home, her apartment is a mess of cardboard boxes, with all of the things she has yet to pack strewn across the floor. As she sorts through the mess she puts on that Arcade Fire album she downloaded the other day and lets her mind wander.

 

Maybe she should go and see Jim, see where the past takes them and find out if what they used to have is enough to carry through to today. He could be sitting home, waiting for her to come knocking on his door, to give him that chance that’s he’s refused her the past few months. Maybe they could curl up on the couch and watch Dazed and Confused and drink grape soda and eat French onion chips until their stomachs ache.

 

She doesn’t even know what Ryan’s favorite movie is. Or which commercials he hates. Those things are important, aren't they?

 

She twirls the Dundie absently in her fingers, running her thumb over the business man’s face. She wonders what the guy at the trophy shop must have been thinking when Michael came in requesting this.

 

It’s starting to sink in a little that she’s really leaving. That she won’t be answering phones all day or seeing those people that she’s grown so accustomed to. There were so many times after Jim left and after she had split up with Roy that she had almost quit, almost decided to start over, but she couldn’t back then because Scranton was still holding her down, holding her back.

 

She wonders what changed, when she had become this braver woman that she had always wanted to be. The woman who could’ve gotten in her car and driven to Stamford, or said “I can” or “No, I don’t think June 10 is going to work for me actually.”

 

Its funny how sometimes once you get the courage to do the things you’ve always wanted, you suddenly don’t want them any more.

 

Its nearly two in the morning when something moves her to get in her car, and its another ten minutes before she actually sums up enough courage to turn it on.

 

By two-thirty she’s standing in front of the door, wringing the fabric she’s holding nervously in her palms. It takes him a little while to answer, and she’s sure that he’s asleep by now.

 

His bed-ridden hair and the way his fist is rubbing his eye make her feel suddenly guilty when he finally swings open the door. She’s starting to re-think this all over again. He’s not saying anything, just watching her and leaning against the door frame, waiting for her to speak.

 

“Here,” is all that she can manage, tossing him the shirt.

 

“Parting gift?” he laughs dryly.

 

“I washed it,” she explains, even though that isn’t what he asked.

 

“Thank you.”

 

He’s still standing there expectantly. She wonders if he even realizes how late it is or how ridiculous she must look standing on his doorstep. She’s almost waiting for him to say “Is that it?” so that she can nod and run back to her car and not look back. But he doesn’t. He knows that she came here with something to say and he’s obviously prepared to wait.

 

“Um, I heard something interesting today,” she says, feeling like Michael when he’s setting up a bad joke.

 

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he asks because that’s what you’re supposed to do when someone says something that incredibly lame. Is it too late to leave?

 

“Well… I heard that New York is a really great place for… for starting a business,” she shrugs as though it’s the most natural thing to say on a porch at two-thirty in the morning.

 

“I heard that somewhere too.” The corner of his mouth is pulled up a little now like he’s trying not to smile. But he’s still standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for her. He’s obviously not planning on making this too easy.

 

When she steps forward to kiss him his arms finally drop, finding her hips and guiding her inside.

 

“Do you… want a drink?” he manages to ask between kisses.

 

“No,” she grins, pushing his back against the closed door and pulling his shirt up over his head.

 

His skin is warm from sleep and his hands are gripping her hips like he needs her to remain standing.

 

“Pam,” he puts his hands on her shoulders, pulling her back a little so that they are eye to eye. “Is this just goodbye sex?”

 

She can feel a smile set across her face as she traces his collarbone with her index finger.

 

“No,” she says simply, biting her bottom lip. “Any more questions?”

 

He pretends to be in serious thought for a few seconds before tightening his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. “Nope, that’s about it.”

 

And then he’s kissing her and she loses herself in it so easily that she doesn’t need to worry for another minute about whether or not it was the right decision to show up on his doorstep. She finally knows what Kelly means, no matter how ironic the lesson is.

 

She trips a little on the Weezer t-shirt that’s lying on the floor as she pulls him into his bedroom. Part of her wonders how many girls he’s had in this room, but mostly she doesn’t care. The sheets smell like him and she wants to take that part of Scranton with her when she goes.

 

And even though now they’re alone, really alone now, and she can say his name as loud as she wants, she finds herself whispering it instead and meeting his eyes because she just needs him to see her. When he says her name it sounds like the answer to a question that he’s been asking himself for a long time now.

 

He’s breathing heavy and his chest is a little damper than earlier, but she lays her head on him anyway as he runs his fingers through her hair. It’s almost like this is becoming their little routine and she likes the way his fingers graze the length of her scalp. Maybe he’ll let her trace letters on his stomach again, even though he’s a terrible guesser.

 

“Is this for real, Pam?” He kisses the top of her head like he already knows the answer.

 

“I want it to be,” she says, her finger tracing the lines of his stomach and circling his belly button.

 

“Me too.”

 

“I’m supposed to leave tomorrow.”

 

“Are you scared?”

 

“Yes,” she sighs, because its easier to be honest with him than it is to make herself out as being so sure of everything all the time. “I’m not going to.”

 

“Not going to what? Leave?” He sits up a little, pulling her chin up to look at him. “You have to go, Pam, you can’t just--”

 

She puts her hand on his mouth to shut him up and she can’t help but laugh at how distressed he looks.

 

“I just meant that I’m going to wait a week,” she grins at him. “So I can go to your graduation.”

 

She's still surprised by how blue his eyes are even in the dark, and when he kisses her she forgets to think about the fact that they are both kind of sweaty, or how annoying it is that her hair is in her eyes. When he kisses her the only thing she’s thinking of is that she hopes he doesn’t have to stop.