Pam turned the corner to see Jim standing at the driver's side window of a dark green Honda Civic, Lisa's car. The engine's hum prevented Pam from making out any of their conversation. She slowly made her way up the sidewalk, crossing her arms and rubbing the back of her elbows like she was cold, though she wasn't.

"Pam!" she heard a girlish voice call. She turned her head to the open passenger-side window.

"Hey Lisa," Pam said, sounding more cheerful than she felt.

"Don't take any more of Jim's money, okay? We have a wedding to pay for," Lisa said with a broad smile, her large blue eyes shining.

Pam glanced over the top of the Civic, and couldn't stop herself from smiling when Jim gave her an accusatory look which quickly melted into a smile.

"I think Jim knows when to cut his losses," Pam said, still looking at Jim.

Lisa turned back to Jim, "I'll see you later."

Jim leaned over to give Lisa a light kiss on the lips. Pam cast her eyes down and started to twirl a ring on her right hand.

Jim waved as Lisa drove away. He turned towards Pam; his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark khaki slacks. "So…" he started.

"So… Lisa left early," Pam said.

Jim shrugged, "This isn't really her thing. She hates it when I host poker night, I didn't expect this to be different."

Pam nodded, and smiled towards Jim.

"You're leaving on your trip soon," Jim said, in a way that was more statement than question. The trip he was referring to was a summer program that was sending Pam to Italy for a month. She was going to study Renaissance Art History in Florence, earn some university credits, and conveniently be out of the country on Jim and Lisa's wedding day.

Pam felt her face make an overly excited expression, "Yes, Sunday, have to be checked in at the airport by 7 am."

Jim grimaced, "That's rough. Can you sleep on planes?"

"Oh no, I'll be staring at everyone around me the whole eight hours there."

Jim laughed, "And you come back the 18th, right?"

Pam hesitated, "I fly back then."

"So then you'll be back that Monday, or are you taking an extra day to recover?"

She looked down to her hands, twirling the same ring she was playing with before. "Well, the thing is …"

"Pam?" She looked up to see Jim with a worried look on his face.

"I put in my notice," she blurted out.

Jim furrowed his eyebrows and smile slightly like she was joking. Pam's eyes darted around and Jim's look shifted back to worry. "You're leaving?"

"I told Michael a while ago." She forced a chuckle, "I am absolutely shocked he didn't say anything."

"Yeah, that's – that's amazing, really." Jim looked up towards the building; his lifted his hand and started scratching the back of his neck. Then he shook his head lightly, and Pam noticed his breath quickened. "I'm sorry, this is just … do you have another job lined up?"

"I guess I'm going to figure that out when I get back. I'm thinking about starting school again full time next winter, get a degree. I might even move."

"Where?" Jim said urgently.

"Boston, New York, I don't know, just somewhere … else." Pam looked at Jim's concerned face. "It's not a big deal. This isn't exactly a career job."

"No, it's definitely not that. I just – just can't believe today was your last day and I didn't know it." He put on a playful smile that barely masked his concern, "There's still time to get Dwight really good, just give me a few minutes to plan."

Pam smiled lightly, "It's okay, the coat rack this morning was fine note to go out on."

"So, what, three years of Michael Scott turned out to be your limit?"

Pam shrugged, "It's something like that."

Jim brows knitted, as if he was seriously thinking. "Was it when he left you alone with Todd Packer for half an hour?"

Pam laughed softly and shook her head, "No."

Jim smiled, "Because that is a legitimate reason to quit, it's on page 60 of the employee manual."

Pam admired Jim for trying to cheer her up, and any other time it would have worked.

"Okay, um, was it when he tried to convince you to play his girlfriend when Jan last came in?"

Pam shook her head again, this time not laughing.

"Was it when he—"

"No," Pam said, sniffing a little.

Jim's face fell.

"It's not Michael, it's not the job, I just …" her eyes stung.

"Pam?"

She gazed at his hand, specifically at the finger that was going to have a gold band on it soon. She still remembered her first day at Dunder-Mifflin vividly. She was sure she wasn't going to be able to stand Michael Scott and Dwight Schrute's antics for any longer than six months until a tall, lanky, and boyishly handsome salesman invited her to Cugino's. They laughed and bantered and Pam felt like this could be something. Then she learned he had a girlfriend, and Pam kicked herself for hoping for more so quickly. She watched Lisa and Jim progress like any normal couple would. A year after that lunch at Cugino's, Jim moved in with Lisa. Six months later they got a dog. Another six months after that, they were engaged. Every event made Pam seriously look through the want-ads of the Scranton Times-Tribune. Then Jim would enlist her to play a new prank on Dwight, or shoot her an affectionate glance, and Pam would allow herself to hope a little longer.

But Pam's well of hope was quickly running dry. She knew the pain in her chest when Jim announced his engagement was going to pale in comparison to the pain she will feel when Lisa becomes Mrs. James Halpert in three week's time. It was unbearable to even think about.

"I can't." For a second Pam didn't know if she actually said it or just thought she did.

"You can't what?" he said softly.

She looked up at his face and for the hundredth time the words escaped her. This was always the point where she would remember that Lisa was sweet and supportive and loved Jim and Jim loved her back. When Pam would question what right she had to tell an engaged man she loved him. When she would conclude that she can't give her pain higher priority than his happiness.

Pam quickly wiped her eyes, hoping he couldn't see the tears but knowing he did, "You know, I should go make an announcement while everyone is still here. Say good-bye to everyone, right?"

Jim pressed his lips together. She could sense his disappointment that she changed the subject, but he didn't push the issue, and she was grateful. "If that's what you want," he said quietly.

Pam nodded, "Yeah, I think so. I'll see you inside." She turned on her heels and walk towards the building. When she reached the entrance, she took a quick glance back to Jim; his hands were still in his pockets and he was looking at his shoes. She wiped her nose and cheek in one motion and walked through the double doors.

Jim stared at his shoes, counting every stitch and trying to figure out what just happened. Pam's face kept appearing in his mind; her eyes glassy and darting around, her chin trembling a little, her voice cracking when she said she "can't." Can't what? Jim asked himself over and over.

He supposed if he thought about it, Pam hadn't been herself all year. Ever since the Booze Cruise, when Lisa drunkenly told Kelly, who then drunkenly told everyone Jim and Lisa had set a wedding date, Pam had been increasingly withdrawn. He couldn't make her laugh as easily, or get her to join him pranking Dwight with as much enthusiasm. They even had an all-out argument when Pam decided not to pursue a graphic design internship the company was offering.

Then there was the day Lisa asked Jim to hand out Save-the-Dates to his coworkers. He went to Pam's desk at the end of the day, and noticed a "Study in Italy" pamphlet on her desk.

"That looks cool," Jim said, motioning to the pamphlet.

"Oh, yeah, I meant to tell you, I just heard they accepted my application." She smiled and Jim was relieved to see a sparkle again in her eyes. "I'm going to Italy."

"That's awesome Pam," Jim said with a grin, "When do you go? How long is it?"

"It's just four weeks, but I get six university credits for it." She paused for a second, "It starts May 22nd."

"Cool," Jim said smiling. He then remembered the Save-the-Date in his hand and felt his smile fade, "Oh, so you're going to be there when we..."

"Yeah," Pam said shyly, and Jim could tell she was well-aware of the overlapping. "I almost didn't apply because of the timing. I feel horrible."

Jim shrugged, "No, c'mon, that's going to be an unbelievable experience for you." He smiled, "You can make it up to me by bringing me back some sweet souvenirs."

Jim remembered slipping the envelope into his back pocket and walking away, feeling as confused then as he did now out in the Scranton Office Park parking lot. Pam's face reentered his mind, bringing back all sorts of questions. He started walking towards the double doors, thinking that now perhaps was the time to get answers.

He didn't get two steps into the warehouse before he was practically mauled by Kelly.

"Jim, oh my God! Pam just announced she's leaving!" Kelly said loudly, grabbing Jim's arms.

"Hey, Kelly, how's your evening going?" Jim said with a glance to the camera that was only a few feet away.

Kevin made his way over to Jim and Kelly, "Hey Jim, did you hear? Pam's leaving."

"Yes," Jim nodded towards Kelly, "I've heard."

"Do you think it's because of you?" Kevin said in his trademarked non-whisper whisper.

Jim swore he could hear the lens zoom on the camera, "I don't..."

"Oh my god, Jim, it is!" Kelly said, her eyes widening.

"She gets bummed out when she sees you with Lisa," Kevin said. "And I mean really bummed out."

Jim looked at Kevin, and quickly recounted all the times Pam and Lisa had been at a party together to try to determine if Pam ever appeared "bummed out." He supposed Pam was a little less outgoing than usual around Lisa, but she was shy, and she never was but anything but perfectly nice to Lisa. "No, Kev, she likes Lisa."

"You can be jealous of someone you like," Kelly said. "Like Kevin is totally jealous of your hair and that you're thin and you totally have a better job than him."

Kevin started denying Kelly's comments, and Jim knew he was wasting his time talking to these two. He looked around the warehouse floor and saw everyone was gambling and talking, but didn't see a trace of Pam's curly hair or purple satin dress. "So you said she made an announcement, where is she?" Jim said as coolly as he could.

Kelly turned back to Jim. "Oh my God, Jim. She looked so sad. I think she went upstairs. I bet she's crying her eyes out. Oh my god, you should go up there!"

Jim gulped; he was going to go up there, but he didn't want the cameras, or Kelly, to know. "No, she's probably would like to be alone for a while." For a brief moment, he wondered if he should take his own advice.

"You're totally right," Kelly said. She spouted off a few more things entirely too quickly for Jim to understand, then turned and walked away. Jim shrugged towards Kevin, who shrugged back and walked towards the bar. Bob Vance of Vance Refrigeration took the microphone to announce the raffle winners, and with the cameras and his coworkers distracted, Jim left the warehouse and headed towards the elevator.

The elevator ride up felt slower than usual, and Jim wondered what the hell he was doing. What was he going to say to Pam, and what exactly did he expect her to say back? When the doors opened, Jim reached to the panel and nearly hit the button to take him back downstairs. He drew his hand back, stepped off the elevator and headed towards the Dunder-Mifflin sign on the wall.

The lights were off, but the door to the office was ajar, and Jim could hear Pam's soft voice. He pushed the door open gently, taking care to not make any noise, and could hear Pam was talking on the phone. She wasn't at reception, though, and Jim couldn't see her. He could only hear she was further in the room, possibly by his desk.

"Not really, he just looked surprised, maybe a little sad," Pam said. Jim stayed next to Michael's office and strained to listen to her. "No, I just went inside … no, I didn't say… he's getting married, Mom, I can't just… Maybe it's better this way."

Jim felt his heart beat a little faster. Were Kelly and Kevin actually right? Was Pam leaving because of him? He heard Pam say goodbye to her mother and he found the courage to walk passed the corner of Michael's office into the main room. Pam's back was to him as she leaned against the end of his desk, standing next to Dwight's desk. Her head was lowered and her arms were wrapped around her middle. Jim heard her sniff again. He took a deep breath and decided that there was no way it was "better" for her to leave as upset as she was.

He walked closer, studying her loose curls that fell around her shoulders, the way the shiny lavender fabric of her dress clung to a figure that was often well hidden by her cardigans. He almost lost his nerve when she let out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a sigh, but managed lift his arm to touch her shoulder.

"Pam?"

Pam hit the end button on her cell-phone and stopped trying to hold back the tears in her eyes. Her mother always tried to be encouraging and supportive, especially in matters related to Jim. Tonight, though, her words did little to comfort Pam, perhaps because her mom was starting to feel as hopeless about the situation as Pam did. Pam crossed her arms in front of her, trying to regain enough composure to go back to the warehouse and face her surprised co-workers and a probably very confused Jim.

She screamed and jumped about a foot when she felt something on her shoulder. She spun around and saw Jim, who had a slight smile on his face. She smacked him on the shoulder. "You scared the shit out of me," she said, quickly wiping her eyes.

Jim stifled a laugh, and Pam asked what was funny. "That might be the first time I've heard you swear," he said.

"That's because that's the first time you've snuck up on me like that!" Pam shouted, though her tone was more playful than angry. They stood silently, and Pam wrapped her arms around her middle. "What are you doing up here?"

Jim motioned back to the office door. "Um…Kelly told me you were up here. And I guess…I wanted to tell you that I'm going to miss you." He looked down at his shoes and chuckled softly. "Really miss you, actually."

Pam smiled slightly, "I'm going to miss you too." She took a deep breath, and wondered if her breath sounded as unsteady as it felt. "I hope the wedding goes well."

Jim nodded, "Yeah." He looked for several seconds at her like he was studying her. "Are you…"

Pam tried to maintain eye contact. "Yes?"

Jim's mouth was open, as if he was struggling to get the words out. "Are you leaving because of me?" he finally said softly.

Pam's eyes darted around, the door suddenly felt very far away. "No, I -"

Jim interrupted, "I mean, because of me … and Lisa."

Pam looked down at her feet, then at Jim's desk, then his hands, then the collar of his shirt, anywhere but his eyes. "I'm leaving because there's nothing for me here. It's lots of reasons."

"Is that one of them?"

Pam finally built up the courage to look at his eyes, and they were dark and piercing in the dim light. "Jim … I mean, maybe seeing other people get married and promoted made me realize those things aren't going to happen to me while I'm here."

He didn't respond, just kept watching her.

She tried to smile, "Why are we up here when there's a party downstairs? We should go back down." She started towards the door, but Jim stepped in front of her.

"Pam, don't do this again," he said, shaking his head.

Pam knitted her brows and scoffed, "Do what?"

"Walk away when you have something to say."

Pam shrugged her shoulders, "Okay, and what do you assume I have to say?" She tried to sound angry, but she ended up sounding more confused than anything.

His mouth was once again open, searching for the words. "Look, I heard you on the phone just now."

Pam bit her lip, trying to look at anything but the tall figure in front of her. "God, Jim, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to be honest with me," Jim said. It was more a request than a demand, and Pam could see pleading in his eyes when she finally allowed herself to look at them again.

"Fine," Pam said frustrated. She crossed her arms and her eyes traveled down to the floor. "I'm leaving because of you," she said quietly. She stared at a dark stain on the carpet; her nerves getting progressively frayed with every second Jim didn't say anything. "Do you have something to say?" she asked.

Jim looked down at his feet, biting his lip. "Pam," he looked up at her, "if I ever gave you the wrong impression…"

Pam started shaking her head; this was exactly why she never said anything, she knew it would be awkward, and Jim would reject her, and she'd look like a fool. "You didn't," she said. She put her hand to her forehead. "God, I'm so stupid," she said mostly to herself.

"You're not stupid," Jim said in a surprisingly stern voice. Pam was a bit startled when he wrapped his long fingers around her wrist, gently pulling her hand away from her forehead. Somehow both her hands ended up in his. "Pam, you're not stupid," he said, his hands gently squeezing hers. "You're funny and smart and easy to talk to, and the guy that gets you is going to be really lucky."

Pam sighed, trying to accept the fact that "the guy that gets her" isn't going to be Jim. She reluctantly met his eyes and couldn't help but be disappointed by the way he looked at her; like a friend and nothing more.

"You mean a lot to me, you know that, right?" Jim said, gently tugging her arms. "And we're going to be friends even after you leave, okay?"

Pam nodded as that F-word repeated in her head. She felt another tug on her arms; this time it was Jim pulling her into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and her arms briefly fell limp at her sides before she tepidly returned the hug.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a whisper.

"I will be eventually," she said, feeling tears beading in the corners of her eyes. She sniffed and Jim released her from the hug, though his hands still held her arms. She reached up to wipe her eyes. "My mascara's getting a work out tonight, huh?" she said with a strained laugh.

"Here, look up," he said. She obliged, and he gently ran his thumb under her eyes to wipe away the tears. He smiled, "There, only a little smudged."

Pam had no idea what came over her. Maybe it was his smile, or how the delicate skin under her eyes was still warm from her tears and his touch. Whatever it was, she found herself standing on her toes and putting her hands behind his ears, gently pulling his head towards her.

Her kiss was more desperate than passionate; her dry lips landed somewhere on his bottom lip, his nose was smashed into her cheek, and she felt his neck stiffen under her hands. She broke the kiss and the heels of her feet dropped back to the floor. "Sorry," she whispered. She lowered her eyes and tried to step backwards, but something held onto her waist. She looked up to see Jim's eyes half closed, his head tilted, and his face getting closer to hers.

Pam's fingers found the soft curls behind Jim's ears, and he pulled her so close she was sure he could feel her rapidly beating heart. But even her heart wasn't racing as fast as her head. Jim's kissing me. His hair is so soft. He engaged, this is wrong. So soft, would he laugh if I told him how long I've been wanting to kiss him. I wonder if he's thought about kissing me? I'm pretty sure he has. His hands are warm. God, this hair, what shampoo does he use? Did he notice I softened my curls tonight? I wish I was wearing something sexier than this stupid bridesmaid dress. Jesus, Beesly, he's a man, and he's kissing you, he is not thinking about your dress. What if someone walks in and sees us? God, he's such an amazing kisser

Pam didn't know who pulled away first, but his arms were still around her, and her hands dropped from his neck to his shoulders. When she looked at his eyes, he looked stunned and maybe a little guilty, but a glance at his still-parted lips sent a shock wave down her spine.

The hum of the idling computers around them was interrupted by a muffled ring tone. Jim didn't seem to hear it; his eyes were still locked with Pam's and his hands were still holding her close to him, but the tinny melody sounded very loud in Pam's ears.

"You want to get that?" she reluctantly whispered.

Jim chuckled softly, and finally released Pam from his embrace. Pam took a step back and turned away as his flipped open his phone.

"Hey Lis … yeah, still at work … Sure, I can pick that up on my way home … Soon, probably. Okay … love you too."

That "love you too" sent a stab to Pam's chest, and she crossed her arms, shoulders slumped as Jim slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"Sorry," she said.

"You already apologized for the first one," Jim answered quietly, "and I'm pretty sure that second one was my fault." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his desk.

Pam started rubbing the back of her arms. "What did Lisa want?" Bringing up the call was for the best, Pam told herself, they both needed to be reminded of the reality of the situation.

Jim was silent for a few seconds. "Um, milk, cereal, breakfast things."

Pam rubbed the back of her arms harder. "You should go do that."

Another moment quietly passed before Jim started to nod, "Yeah."

Pam felt his eyes on her as she walked to reception to get her purse and jacket. She had already packed up and taken home what she wanted to keep out of her desk. The fate of the rest of the items would be up to the next receptionist, including the jelly bean dispenser. She glanced to the counter area next to the dispenser and smiled, remembering the countless times Jim leaned forward on her desk and how seeing his rolled up sleeves and bare forearms always gave her a little thrill.

"Pam," Jim called out softly.

Pam looked at Jim, still standing near his desk with his hands in his pockets. She could sense he was panicking a little, like he had built up enough courage to get her attention, but not quite enough to say what he wanted to say. She had done the same thing dozens of times.

He took a deep breath and smiled slightly. "Have fun in Italy."

Pam nodded, saddened by the sweet, safe, and somewhat impersonal remark, but knowing that he didn't really have a choice. "Good-bye, Jim."

"Bye Pam."

With her hand on the door knob, Pam paused, memories of her three years here at this small paper company flooding her mind. Pranks on Dwight, lunches in the break room, constantly conspiring with Jim on the best ways to do anything besides work, it really wasn't all that bad. I can't stay, she reminded herself, there's nothing for me here.

As the door of Dunder-Mifflin Scranton latched behind her, perhaps for the last time, tears once again filled Pam's eyes.

Jim gazed around his Corolla, not entirely remembering how he managed to get home. He remembered standing alone in the office after Pam left, though he couldn't say how long, then running into Michael in the lobby, then hearing the bagger at the grocery store ask "Paper or plastic", and then sitting here in the driveway. He was about to turn off the car when a familiar song came on his iPod.

Baby, you've been going so crazy,
Lately nothing seems to be going right.

Jim scratched an itch on the side of his nose then absently touched his lips as he thought back to last November when he and Pam listened to this song outside the office building. He remembered standing so close to her as they shared his ear-buds, watching her gently sway to the rhythm and telling himself he was shivering because it was cold.

Jim had told himself a lot of things in the past year. He told himself the pang in his chest when he saw Pam leave for lunch with a numbskull warehouse worker named Roy wasn't jealousy, but rather a brotherly concern that she was going out with someone Jim knew wasn't right for her. He told himself the rush he felt after every prank was from a sense of accomplishment for tricking Dwight once again and not from seeing Pam's mischievously beautiful smile. Even now, he was trying to convince himself kissing her not even an hour ago was a spur-of-the-moment event stemming from some urge to have one last little fling before he got married and not something he had thought about more than a few times.

Colder, crying over your shoulder,
Hold her, tell her everything's gonna be fine.

The melody abruptly stopped when Jim turned the car key, and he grabbed his iPod and the bag of groceries to go inside. He found Casey, their Golden Retriever, sleeping on the area rug and Lisa sitting on the couch, dressed in sweats and watching the news. "Hey," she said, getting off the couch and taking the milk out of his hands.

"Hey," he replied, following her to the kitchen and setting the grocery bag on the counter top.

"Get any more gambling in?" Lisa asked, putting the milk in the refrigerator.

Jim shook his head, "Nah, things started winding down soon after you left."

Lisa looked at him and tilted her head to the side. "You okay?"

Jim snapped his head to Lisa's face, his heart-rate increasing. He should have known she would immediately sense something wasn't right. "Um," it was useless to try to deny something was up, so he settled for telling her at least part of the truth. "Right after you left, Pam told me she's leaving Dunder-Mifflin." He shrugged, "Kind of sad, I guess, saying good-bye to her."

"Oh," Lisa said in a sympathetic tone. "I hope we can stay in touch with her. You guys were such good work buddies."

Jim nodded, "Yeah." Lisa didn't ask anything else, so Jim was silent as he put the rest of the groceries away. "Well, I'm beat." He leaned over and gave Lisa a quick peck on the lips. "I'm heading to bed."

"Okay, I think I'm going to read for a little bit," Lisa said, walking back to the couch. "Night," she called after Jim.

"Good night," Jim replied.

It wasn't a good night, though. Jim would close his eyes and be on the verge of nodding off when Pam would reenter his mind. Long after Lisa had come to bed and fallen asleep, Jim was still awake, unable to purge Pam's green eyes or the way she smelled of vanilla from his thoughts. He wasn't sure if his alarm clock read 2 or 3 a.m. when he finally drifted off to sleep.

Pam sat on her bed with about a dozen postcards spread out in front of her. It was Saturday, her 6th day in Italy and the first day she didn't have to be up by 7am. The program was much more intense than she had anticipated; her two classes took all morning, and the afternoons were devoted to field trips to different museums and sights in and around Florence. It was strange to suddenly be so close to works of art she had read about all her life; the Duomo seemed to dominate the sky no matter where in Florence she was, Pisa and it's famous tower was only a train ride away, works by Boticelli, Titian and da Vinci were all under the same roof at the Uffizi, and her art history teacher said the class was going to "drop by" to see Michelangelo's David next week. When the days were over, Pam would collapse on her bed, almost too exhausted to think about home and about Jim. Almost.

If Pam were to complain about anything, it would be the dorm rooms. The beauty of the city was not reflected at all in the box-like rooms with blank, beige walls and room for two uncomfortable twin-sized beds, two dressers, and not a whole lot else. They were quiet, though, which is why Pam chose it as the location to write all the postcards she promised to send out. Her roommate, Cari (who was 20, attended Penn State, and was a hell of a lot more together than Pam was at that age) was down in the commons with most of the other students, so Pam had the room to herself.

She had written out nearly all the postcards on her list; her parents, her sister, a couple aunts and uncles and cousins, and many of her coworkers. Ex-coworkers, she reminded herself. The last person on her list was Jim. She kept putting off writing the postcard, hoping to find it had miraculously written itself at some point. She wasn't even sure how to address the card with a photo of a Florentine sunset on the front. Was it okay to address it to just Jim, or should she write it to both of them? She took a deep breath, addressed it to Jim only, and started to write.

"Italy is unbelievable. I've been here less than a week but I've already climbed the Duomo and spent the afternoon in Pisa. Next weekend I'm taking an excursion down to Rome. I only get three days to see what would probably otherwise take a month, but that's okay. If you ever get a chance to come here, you should definitely take it."

Pam signed her name, and read over what she just wrote. She frowned a little at her impersonal tone, but she wasn't sure what else to write, what would be appropriate. She took a deep breath, trying to summon a little courage, and put the pen back down to the card.

"P.S. I miss y –"

Someone called her name and Pam snapped her head up to see Cari in the doorway.

"We're going to take a walk along the riverfront, you want to come?" Cari asked, tucking some of her long blond hair behind her ear.

Pam nodded, and as Cari grabbed a few things out of her dresser, Pam scribbled out the line she just wrote, gathered up the other postcards and slipped them into her bag.

Jim would be the first one to admit he was out of it. He would hang up the phone after a sale and barely remember the client's name, stand in an aisle at the grocery store and completely forget what he was there for, even just now he was too out of it to get mad at a major Phillies error that made them fall behind in the 8th inning, or at Casey for whining at the door.

He had been spacing out for the whole week, thinking about Pam, wondering how she was doing in Italy and if it was too much to email her and ask her. He thought of all the previously unnoticed signs she liked him as more than a friend and how painfully obvious it was to him now.

He thought back to the Booze Cruise in January; he had reluctantly invited Lisa and she reluctantly agreed to come, unsure how good of a time she would have, but to his surprise she really hit it off with the warehouse workers. Jim was hanging back watching Lisa participate in increasingly rowdy drinking games when Pam walked by, coat in her arms.

"Beesly," he called, and she spun around to face him, "you jumping ship?"

She laughed, "No, I'm just - thought I'd get some fresh air." Jim nodded and watched Pam rock back and forth on her heels. "You wanna join me?" she said it so quietly Jim almost didn't hear her over the sound of Lisa and the warehouse guys chanting "Darryl, Darryl!"

Jim half-smiled, set his beer down and grabbed his coat, following Pam to the door that lead out to the boat deck. The wind was biting and instantly negated the beer buzz he had going, but the cold January air was a welcome change to the stale smell of the boat dining hall. Still, he and Pam opted to stay close to the door. Their eyes met and she laughed nervously.

"Maybe not my best idea," she said with a shiver.

Jim shook his head, "Nah, it's kind of nice, it's too loud in there anyways." They both looked through the glass window of the door, where across the room they could see a neon yellow snorkel being used to take shots.

"Lisa's really getting into it," Pam said.

Jim chuckled, "Yeah, I'm definitely seeing a new side of her tonight." He gazed over Pam across the water for a moment, unsure how he felt about the 'new side' of Lisa, then shifted his eyes down to meet Pam's. "So what's happening with Mr. Varsity Blues," he said, referring to Roy the warehouse worker, who spent most of the evening sitting with Pam, Jim and Lisa, talking about little else beside his glory days as a star football player in high school.

"Roy?" Pam shrugged. "Probably not much. He's a little too ... I don't know if he's really my type."

"What is your type, Beesly?" Jim asked with a smirk.

"Um," she tilted her head and stared off at nothing in particular. She looked back to Jim, an expression on her face that he couldn't quite read. Jim watched her chew her lip, feeling guilty for teasing her about Roy, and feeling increasing nervous for other unknown reasons.

Pam finally broke eye contact and took a shaky breath. "You're cold," Jim said, reaching up to rub her arm, his other hand heading for the door handle.

"No," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. Jim pulled his hand away from the door, feeling his eyebrows knit in confusion as he looked at Pam again, her mouth open as if she were about to speak.

There was a flash of pink in the corner of Jim's eye, and the door swung opened. "Jim!" Before he knew it Kelly's arms were around his neck. "Why didn't you tell us the wedding date had been set?!"

Jim's eyes instinctively snapped to Pam, but she was already facing away from him, her head lowered. She was inside and halfway across the dining hall before Kelly released Jim from her ecstatic embrace.

"A June wedding, it's going to be so perfect!" Jim was barely listening to Kelly as his gaze remained on Pam's curly hair and white coat until she was completely out of view.

Jim was pulled out of the memory by Casey scratching at the back door, and Jim stood to let the dog outside. Pam wanted to tell him, there were so many moments where she clearly had something to say, only to lose the courage or get interrupted. Jim return to the couch, shaking his head, it didn't matter that Pam didn't confess to having feelings for him sooner, he told himself, it would have played out the same as the other night, well minus one part.

For the hundredth time this week, Jim's thoughts returned to what happened last Friday. He still couldn't come up with any kind of satisfactory answer for why he did what he did. Best he could say was somehow three years of inside jokes and glances during meetings and plotting pranks over jellybeans resulted in him inadvertently forming on a crush on Pam. But that was all it was, an innocent crush on a coworker that, save one kiss, he had never acted upon. It wasn't anything compared to what he felt for Lisa, was it?

Before Jim had a chance to linger too long on that question, Lisa came in the front door in a huff, dropping her purse on the kitchen table and scoffing to herself.

"Hey, Lis, something wrong?" Jim called from the couch.

Lisa stomped into the living room and threw her hands in the air, "Well, my dress doesn't fit!"

It took a second for Jim to figure what "dress" she meant. "Doesn't fit?"

"It was a little loose last time, so I told the seamstress to go ahead and take it in. And I guess I've been gorging myself since then because now it doesn't fit. God, first the bridesmaid dresses, now this."

Jim recalled the issue with the bridesmaids' dresses; how Lisa ordered apricot colored dresses and they came back peach. He remembered Pam dubbing it "The Great Fuzzy Fruit Fiasco" and would have chuckled if a very upset Lisa wasn't five feet away.

"Oh my God, and the invitation typo too!" Lisa said before she plopped down on the couch with her face in her hands.

"That's not a big deal, I always wanted to be a 'Helpert'," Jim said, smiling. Lisa didn't react to the joke, and Jim's face fell. "Hey," he said softly, putting his arm around her shoulder, "it's gonna be okay."

Lisa looked at Jim, her sky blue eyes tearing up. "Are you really ready to get married?" she asked in a whisper.

"Of course I am," Jim answer almost too quickly. "Where's this all coming from?"

Lisa shook her head, wisps of chestnut brown hair falling from her bun into her face. She launched into a speech that was a little too well spoken to have been spontaneous, about how she wanted to believe this was a case of "cold feet" but she couldn't shake her doubts. She spoke about how she felt like she hadn't done anything in her life, how she grew up in Wilkes-Barre, went to Penn State, met Jim the summer she graduated, and that was it. She spoke about feeling like they were both on auto-pilot, with their jobs and their relationship and their lives. She lastly spoke about not feeling connected with Jim, that they weren't able to read each other well.

Jim shook his head slightly, He could read Lisa just fine, he thought to himself. Maybe he didn't know every nuance of every look she gave him, but who could actually read someone that well?

Pam's face appeared in his mind, as it had a tendency of doing recently. Jim desperately tried to push the images out; the green eyes that widened when she wasn't quite sure if Jim was joking, the eyebrows that shot up when Michael would say something insensitive, the lip she chewed when she was thinking something but wasn't sure if she should say it, the tongue that peeked out between her teeth when Jim would compliment her brilliant ideas as they plotted pranks against Dwight.

Jim held his breath as his mind still refused to think about anything but Pam, about how he knew when Pam was upset and wanted cheering up, and when it was better to leave her alone. About how he could tell which computer game she was playing by just looking at her eyes (they'd dart around when she played FreeCell verses being focused when she played Mine Sweeper). Sometimes he would even play a game with himself and try to predict if she would get sour cream & onion or barbecue chips with surprisingly accurate results.

"Jim." Lisa's tearful voice brought his wandering mind back to the present, and he struggled to refocus on her. "Did you hear what I said?"

Jim slowly shook his head, "What?"

Lisa's breath wavered, "That we should postpone?"

A scoff escaped Jim's mouth before he could stop it.

"It wouldn't be a big deal, Jim, and we can have more time to think."

Jim didn't want to think anymore, all he'd been doing for the last week was thinking, and all it had done was make him doubt everything he was so sure of a week ago. He needed Lisa to tell him unequivocally that she's happy and wanted to get married in two weeks, not to be turning to him for decisions.

Jim turned to Lisa, locked his eyes with hers, took her hands in his and drew in a deep breath. "Are you ready to get married?"

Lisa's eyes stayed glued to his, and he tried to return a look of solidarity, of strength. But he only felt confused, and he knew she was probably taking notice of his confusion as the water welled in her eyes and as she slowly started to shake her head.

"I'm sorry, Jim."

The next sound he heard was the door latching behind her.

Yellow-green hills dotted with red clay roofed buildings passed by rapidly as Pam stared out the window of the charter bus that she and her classmates were taking to Rome. It was Friday, her 12th day in Italy, and about eight days before Jim and Lisa's wedding, not that Pam was keeping track. The second week of the program had been much less hectic than the first, either that or Pam had simply gotten used to the pace.

Occasionally the Italian landscape along the highway looked somewhat similar to the hills around Scranton, and Pam would find herself thinking about what she was going to do when she returned home in just over two weeks, and wondered if she made too rash of a decision quitting her job at Dunder-Mifflin. What exactly did she think Jim's wedding was going to change anyway? He had always been with Lisa, always been off-limits to her. All the wedding was really going to do was make Pam's chances of being with Jim just a little more remote than they already were. Maybe it was what Pam needed, maybe if that little flicker of hope for something more with Jim was fully extinguished, they could truly and honestly be friends.

She listened passively as her classmates were clamoring about the Renaissance art history test they had taken earlier in the day. When asked how she thought she did, Pam modestly said "Okay" though she was confident she had received a high score. As the sun started to disappear behind the hills and ceramic roofs, the conversation began to get a little more personal and the girls around her talked about roommates and boyfriends and such.

Pam reflected on how she didn't have many friends. One would have thought that living in the town where she grew up would mean she had some friends nearby, but most of her high school friends had made good on their pledges to "get the hell outta Scranton" after they graduated, and the handful of friends she made at Marywood University quickly fell out of touch with her after she dropped out at the end of her sophomore year.

Kelly was kind of her friend, Pam supposed. They would hang out, drink some wine and watched romantic comedies once in a while. Kelly was actually significantly mellower and therefore much more tolerable with a glass or two of wine in her. But Pam had avoided her recently since all Kelly wanted to talk about was Ryan and Pam had run out of nice ways to tell Kelly she should drop him. Besides, all Pam was thinking about was Jim.

The most social Pam had been in recent memory was last summer. Jim and Lisa had moved into a house and hosted a handful of barbecues. They had been engaged since the beginning of the year so by the time Memorial Day rolled around the sadness has worn off a bit for Pam and things were pretty much back to normal. Jim would also invite Toby and Kevin, but they were often preoccupied so usually Pam was the only one there from work. She was always a little thrilled when Jim would introduce her as "my friend, Pam" or, even better, just "Pam", rather than "my coworker, Pam".

She liked Jim-the-Host, he was good coordinating different party games and make sure everyone felt included. Lisa gravitated to more competitive games and Pam couldn't help but notice any time there were teams Lisa would always be on an opposing team to Jim, and always be extra celebratory when her team won over his. Pam much preferred to get grouped with Jim, to hear him say "Great job, Pam!" and give her a high five with a brilliant smile on his face. Also they were a pretty unstoppable pair at Charades and Pictionary.

There was a rare occasion towards the end of August last year where Lisa was out of town at a seminar and Jim decided to host a barbecue solo. When Jim was seeing his ex-roommate Mark and his girlfriend to the door, Pam looked around and realized she was the only guest left. Jim walked into the kitchen, peeked in the refrigerator and commented that it was good the party ended early since he only had two beers left. Pam was about to stand and say she should get going when he walked in with a bottle in each hand and asked if she wanted to go to the patio and help him finish the beer off. She accepted.

They sat in lawn chairs, gazing at the stars and comparing their childhood memories of summers in Scranton. Jim asked her about the time she spent face-painting at the Lackawanna County Fair, and Pam couldn't help but blush at him recalling something she mentioned offhandedly months ago. It was the salesman in him, she reminded herself. She always heard him mention some personal detail when he was on a call; asking how a client's golf game was coming or how their kids were doing in school. Still, she dared to hope he remembered the small things about her because he genuinely was interested.

They talked about their dreams. Jim confessed his childhood dream was to play for the 76ers but of course as a teenager he had get real about the chances of that ever happening. He wouldn't mind coaching youth basketball or something someday, "Maybe when I have kids," he said. Pam smiled, briefly debating if she wanted to tell him he would be a great dad before deciding it would sound too cheesy. Instead, she started talking about how she took on extra shifts at the smoothie stand in the mall so she could get the money for application fees and color copies of her art portfolio, but every art and design college she applied to either turned her down or offered her admission with no scholarship, and she just sort of gave up on her art aspirations. She was ready for the usual lecture, for Jim to tell her to just take out loans and sign up for the classes she wants and follow her dreams. But he sipped on his beer and listened to the sound of the crickets dotted throughout his yard. He didn't judge her; she appreciated it.

"I can't believe I've been at Dunder-Mifflin for over two years," Pam lamented quietly.

Jim chuckled, "Wait 'til it's been over four years. You'll just be in a constant state of disbelief."

Pam laughed and started to peel the label off of her bottle. "I just, I sometimes feel so stuck. Like I'm in quicksand and the more I struggle to get out the faster it will suck me in, so I might as well just relax."

Jim nodded, "You should draw that."

"What?"

"Draw a cartoon showing how far in the Dunder-Mifflin quagmire everyone is."

Pam giggled, "Well, let's see, I think Michael and Dwight are completely engulfed-"

"You're right about Michael, but you better keep one defiant Schrute hand above the surface," Jim interjected.

"And I'll be in about waist deep, so it looks like I have hope of getting out, but really I don't."

Jim laughed softly and looked over at Pam. "Well, if it's any consolation at all, I'm happy you're there."

Pam brushed over Jim's sentiment and tried to keep the mood light, "Eh, give it another year and I'll be as crazy as the rest of them."

"I mean it, Pam." Pam felt a lump in her throat as she searched his face for a hint of jest; a sign he would break into a smile. But he was as serious as she's ever seen him. "The only thing about work I genuinely look forward to is hanging out with you."

Pam waited for a second, for him to add some kind of addendum to that statement, like "and of course I look forward to pranking Dwight" or "plus I look forward to 5 o'clock so I can leave". But the witty retort didn't come; he just stared at her, the lights from the house softly illuminating the right side of his face.

Pam felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth and nodded slightly. "Me too."

They held eye contact for an indeterminable amount of time before Jim's breath quickened. He tried to pass it off as a chuckle, and turned his head back to the brown bottle in his hands. Pam resumed peeling off the beer label, occasionally closing her eyes and focusing on the sound of the bugs chirping around her and beer sloshing in Jim's bottle whenever he took a sip. She tried remember if there was another time in her life she felt like this; so warm and peaceful and content. She determined there wasn't.

"So what do you think of that, Pam?"

Pam's eyes popped open and it took a few seconds to regain her bearings and remember where she was. She looked to her left and saw Cari and a few other faces looking at her. "Think of what?"

"When we get to Rome and get checked in, we should go to a club and find some cute Italian guys," Cari said with a smirk.

"Or at least some reasonably-cute tourists who think the clubs are the best place to meet Italian women," said Nicole, an NYU student with sparkly dark eyes.

Pam started to shake her head, "I don't know, I think I'm going to be pretty exhausted when we get there."

Amanda, a red head from Boston College, spoke up. "What, do you have a guy at home?"

For half a second Pam considered lying. It would be so easy to say she did have a guy; she certainly could give an in-depth description of his hazel eyes and floppy hair and how his smile warmed her to the core. In two weeks she would part ways with all these girls, probably never see them again. It would be so easy to pretend…

"No," Pam finally answered bashfully.

"Then you should come out! It'll be fun," Cari insisted.

A feeling of homesickness hit Pam in the gut, and she suddenly and very intensely wished she was back in Scranton. She wanted to see the familiar brick buildings, white wash houses, and rusted trucks. She wanted to smell the smoke of barbecues wafting through the summer air. She wanted to be on a patio having a beer and listening to the crickets.

"Maybe," she said to Cari. Satisfied with that, Cari turned her attention back to Amanda and Nicole, and Pam rested her forehead on the window.

Night had fallen when they reached Rome, and Pam just wanted to crawl into a bed. There was two and a half days of solid sightseeing ahead of her, and clubbing was even less appealing now than it was an hour ago when Cari mentioned it. The hotel that the students were staying had booked too few rooms, so as Pam's instructor was trying to straighten things out with the maitre d', Pam noticed there were a few computers for hotel guests on the other side of the lobby. She walked over and pulled up a browser window to quickly check her email.

There were only a handful of messages; a few email offers and short messages from her parents and her sister hoping she was having a good time. Before she could get too upset that none of her co-workers had emailed her, Pam remembered they probably were using her company email, which she hadn't check since her last day at Dunder-Mifflin. She pulled up the Dunder-Mifflin employee page and typed in her username, wondering if her email account was still in service.

The inbox came up and she was happy to see there were 20 new messages. Most of the subject lines were along the lines of "Have fun in Italy", along with one that said "Need some numbers from you" which was not surprisingly from Angela. There were also a few emails from Michael with subject lines like "Where is this?" and "How do you do that?". But one email stood out due to the all-caps subject and several exclamation points. Pam clicked on it.

From: kellykapoor@dundermifflin.com

Date: May 29, 2006 4:37 PM

Subject: YOU WONT BELIEVE THIS!

Pam –

Jim just announced that the wedding is canceled! Didn't say why, will email you if I find out more.

~Kelly

Pam's mouth went dry and her vision blurred and for some reason she quickly clicked "Refresh." When the page reloaded, and the message said the same thing it had just a second before, Pam tried to catch her breath. She went back to her inbox, scanning the emails, wondering if perhaps he had sent something. Nothing.

She vaguely heard her instructor call her name to tell her the rooms were ready. Pam's hand moved on its own accord as she logged out of the email and closed the browser window. She felt like she was in a haze following Cari to the room that wasn't much bigger than their dorm back in Florence, though it was certainly better decorated. Cari immediately started searching her luggage for something small and sexy to wear out, and Pam grabbed her toiletry bag to head to the bathroom down the hall.

"Hey, Cari, you guys should just go out without me. I think the bus ride did me in."

"That driver was ridiculous, wasn't he?" Cari exclaimed. "I hope you feel better soon."

Pam turned her face to the door so Cari wouldn't see the tears in her eyes. "I do too."

For all the stress and energy that went into planning a wedding, Jim discovered that canceling one was disturbingly simple. There was little emotion involved as Jim called around to cancel all the various reservations. He had a statement prepared in his head just in case someone asked why the wedding was called off, but no one seemed remotely interesting in knowing the details, only in deposits and cancellation fees. The wedding registry was the easiest cancellation of all; Jim simply logged into the website and clicked a "Cancel Registry" button at the bottom of his account page.

The day after Lisa walked out, Jim spent what felt like all morning in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to pin down exactly how he was feeling. He knew how he was suppose to feel; he was suppose to be upset, maybe angry, definitely desperate to track down Lisa and telling her he absolutely was ready to get married and they can postpone if necessary and he's willing to work on whatever is wrong. He couldn't conjure up any of those passionate emotions, though, and scolded himself for the odd feeling of relief he kept having. The doorbell rang and Casey barked, finally rousting Jim from his bed and down the steps. Through the window Jim saw a mail truck pulling away and he opened the door to a sizable box on the welcome mat. When he leaned over, he saw the parcel was from his Aunt Shelly in Florida, and froze as he realized this box was most likely a wedding gift. Still standing in the doorway, Jim grabbed his cell out of his pocket and hit a speed dial number.

The call went to Lisa's voicemail as predicted, and Jim struggled to collect his thoughts as the automatic voice told him to leave a message at the tone. "Hey, it's me. I just want to make sure you're okay. Um... I really hope we can talk soon. Bye." Jim's thumb hit the end button, and he leaned down to pick up Aunt Shelly's gift and bring it into the house.

The rest of Saturday and most of Sunday passed in a blur; Jim sat around in his lounging clothes, ordered in Chinese, and talked to no one besides the dog. On Sunday night, Jim was sitting on the living room floor, scratching Casey's belly and trying not to let his mind wander to a certain receptionist, when his cell rang. The screen read "Lisa" and he took a couple deep breaths before answering.

"Hey," he said smiling, remember the old sales adage that people can hear a smile in your voice. There was no reply and his smile faded, "Hello?"

"Hey," Lisa finally replied. "Um, I'm alright, I'm just at my parents' place."

"Okay, good." Casey raised his head and gave Jim a curious look. "I think Casey misses you, he probably wants to know when you'll be back."

"Jim..." He could hear her unsteady breathing on the line, and he felt a tightness in his chest. "I don't think..."

"Listen, we can postpone, like you said, it's not a big deal," Jim said softly.

Another moment passed before Lisa spoke. "I think we should start calling people tomorrow and letting them know it's cancelled," she said in a quiet but surprisingly steady tone.

Jim bit his lip to suppress a sigh, "Are you sure?"

There was no pause before Lisa replied, "Yes." Jim rubbed his brow as Lisa said she would start notifying her wedding party and guests on her side, and he mumbled yes when she asked if Jim could handle all the venue and service reservation cancellations.

"Can you-" Jim interjected, hoping his voice didn't sound as annoyed as he felt.

"Can I what?" Lisa said, also sounding a bit irritated.

Jim tried to soften his tone, "Can you maybe tell me what I did wrong?"

The line was quiet again for a few seconds, "It's not something you did wrong, at least not any one big thing, and some of it's me, I don't really know how to explain it."

"Well," Jim shook his head, frustrated at the lack of a clear answer, "I hope someday we can talk about it, like in person."

"Yeah, someday." There was one last pause before Jim's phone beeped to signal the call was ended.

Jim dreaded going into work Monday and having to make the announcement but everyone was very understanding. Jim told Michael first and emphasized that he really didn't want Michael to make a big deal out of it. Michael mostly obliged, and Jim couldn't help but be a little grateful that after he stood up and made the announcement to the office Monday afternoon, Michael followed him up by threatening to fire anyone who gossiped about Jim's wedding. Toby offered to take Jim out for a beer to talk about it, but Jim didn't think it was a good idea to confess to anyone that he thought everything was fine and it wasn't until he kissed Pam that the doubts started to surface.

The only person who even brought up Pam was, surprisingly enough, Angela, who said every guest that was formally invited should receive a prompt cancellation notice, and asked if Pam had received such a notice. Jim saw Kelly out of the corner of his eye, and told Angela that he was covered.

The thought did cross his mind to send Pam an email, maybe asking her to call him or to have dinner with him when she got back from Italy. But there was a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him it wasn't right to ask another woman out even on a friendly dinner when his ex-fiancée wasn't even completely moved out, telling him Pam was moving on and following her dreams and he might need to step back and let her do that.

Jim pulled in his driveway at about half past five on Friday, not quite use to Lisa's Civic not being there. Her parents lived in Wilkes-Barre, and Jim figured Lisa was coming by during her lunch because every time he came home, a few more of her things were gone. He walked into the house, and Casey greeted Jim with a whine. The conversation about the golden retriever was brief, it actually wasn't a conversation at all; it was a note Lisa left on the kitchen table that simply stated since Jim was staying in the house, he should keep the dog. "Casey always liked you better anyways," the end of the note said. Jim looked into Casey's worried brown eyes; silently apologizing to the dog for not getting him with better intentions. It was nearly two years ago that Jim brought home Casey; he and Lisa had just had a big fight and Lisa had commented that Jim was "refusing to truly commit to the relationship". Jim spotted a flyer for golden retriever puppies and for some reason getting a dog seemed like a great way to show he was committed. And it worked, for a while at least.

After placing his mail on the kitchen counter, Jim spotted the handwritten list of cancellations he needed to make. Everything was crossed off; the caterer, the florist, the reception hall, the church, the tuxedo rental store. Then Jim realized he had forgotten to cancel one rather important reservation. He quickly looked up the number and dialed, hoping they'd be open until 6pm.

"Travelworld, this is Katherine," said a voice that clearly belonged to a smoker.

"Hello Katherine, this is Jim Halpert calling. I have some reservations for a trip to the Bahamas on June 11th."

He could hear her typing, "Ah, yes, Jim Halpert, the Honeymoon Package, very, very good deal."

Jim smiled a little at the way her voice got higher at the end of sentences, a trait of older Pennsylvanians. "Yeah, um, I need to cancel that."

"You wanna reschedule?"

"No, no, the wedding is ... off, so I just need to cancel the whole thing."

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry to hear that."

Jim paused, recognizing the chance to finally say the statement rolling around in his head out loud. "Yeah, there were problems, had been for a while, but we really didn't acknowledge it until now."

"These things happen," Katherine said.

These things happen, there was something reassuring about that simple phrase. Jim kept repeating it in his head, these things happen.

"So, your options are to cancel and get cash back minus a 20% cancellation fee, or you can get a voucher for the full amount that can go towards any future trip you book with Travelworld."

"I'll go ahead and take the cash back," Jim said quickly. He was listening to Katherine's furious typing when the corner of a red piece of paper in the pile of mail caught his eye. He pulled it from the pile and saw it was a flyer for Cugino's.

His mind flashed to a time that felt so long ago, when he walked up to the shy receptionist at lunchtime on her first day and informed her that her reward for remaining calm and composed in the faces of Michael Gary Scott and Dwight K. Schrute was a free lunch at Cugino's. He remembered smiling at her nervousness as they drove to the Italian restaurant, and noticing how much brighter her eyes and skin were when they weren't under the harsh florescent lighting of Dunder Mifflin. He remembered holding his breath and preparing for her to get upset when a meatball rolled off her plate and down the front of her shirt, leaving a trail of marinara, and then exhaling in relief when she laughed and said she didn't realize they had runaway meatballs at this place before calmly asking the waitress for some club soda. He remembered telling himself it wasn't really a date, but when he looked at her green eyes, her blushing cheeks, and the fresh reddish-orange stain on her shirt, he couldn't help but feel that if it was a date, it would be the best date he had ever been on.

"Excuse me, Katherine," Jim said with a start.

The furious typing stopped, "Yes, Jim?"

"If I take that voucher, and wanted to book a flight to - to Florence, Italy, how much would that be?"

"Oh, Florence is so beautiful. My husband took me there for our 30th anniversary. When are you thinking about leaving?"

"Well, um, like next week."

"Oh," the tone of her voice was already killing Jim's spontaneous mood. "You know, honey, plane ticket prices skyrocket when you book them on short notice. We do have an Italy package, you'd hit all the major cities -"

"Can you please just tell me how much it would be if - if I put all the voucher money to one round trip ticket to Florence." Jim's hand instinctively started to move towards his back pocket where his wallet was. If it's less than $300, I'm going to book it, he told himself. Actually, make that $400.

There was a little more typing and then Katherine took a deep breath. "A round trip to Florence that leaves next Friday, after the voucher is applied, would be at least $900."

Jim's hand retracted from his back pocket. "Wow."

"If you left in two weeks, that price would go down at least $500."

Jim shook his head as if Katherine could see him, "No, no, that's okay, I was just curious. Just give me the cash back."

Jim was reading the coupon offers on the back of the Cugino's flyer when Katherine interrupted his thoughts to confirm that his credit card was being credited the full amount of the "Honeymoon Package" minus fees. Jim hung up, put the Cugino's flyer back with the rest of the mail, and turned his attention to Casey, who was scratching at his empty food bowl.

"Pam, PAM!"

Sitting up with a jolt, Pam panicked slightly as she struggled to remember where she was. She wasn't surrounded by the blank beige walls of her Florence dorm, nor the soft pastels of her parent's home near Scranton, but rather by rich dark colors lit with string lights and decorated with vintage movie posters.

"Pam, you gotta remember the floor lock, or else you're just asking to get robbed," a woman with curly dark hair said.

"Sorry, sorry, I keep forgetting." Pam replied, trying to straighten out her bed-head hair.

"Yeah, I know, you guys probably still don't lock your doors in Scranton, do ya?"

"Scranton's not that stuck in the past, Grace, but I can honestly say I've never seen more than two locks on a door there." Nor have I ever lived in a place where the living room, bed room, bathroom and kitchen were all one room, but I guess I'm in the big city now, Pam thought. She would living be here in this Brooklyn studio apartment with corporate receptionist, Grace, at least until Christmas.

"Ready for tomorrow?" Grace said, changing out of her clothes and into her pajamas in plain view of Pam. Pam was going to have to get used to this "one room" situation; the only thing that provided any sense on privacy in the apartment was a garage sale screen in front of the bathroom that may have once had a door on it

"You and everyone else keeps asking me that question like I don't know what I'm getting myself into." Tomorrow was Pam's first full day as Jan's assistant. It was part of the deal Pam managed to strike at the Dunder Mifflin corporate office shortly after she came back from Italy; Monday, Wednesday, and Friday working as Jan's assistant, and Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday down in Marketing as a graphics intern. Last week was devoted to getting Pam familiar with Corporate's phones and computers, as well as Jan's filing system.

Grace headed to the sink to wash her face, "Well, you know Jan's reputation." Pam had been informed that, especially since her divorce, Jan's been going through assistants almost as quickly as her morning latte that needed to be on her desk at 8:30 AM sharp.

"I'll be fine. Remember, I worked with Michael Scott for three years."

"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting that," Grace said, starting her complicated nightly beauty routine of smearing various soaps, lotions, and facials masks on her already perfectly lovely dark skin. With Grace preoccupied for at least five minutes, Pam pulled her sketch book from Florence of out her last unpacked box. Everything after getting that email from Kelly was such a blur she barely remembered drawing half these sketches. They were sloppy and incomplete anyway, except one; a portrait of a man with floppy hair and smiley eyes.

"Who's that?" Grace asked. Pam instinctively closed the sketchbook, and jumped a little when she saw Grace's face caked with a lavender beauty mask.

"It's just one of the models from a figure class in Italy." It wasn't a complete lie, Pam told herself, there was a figure drawing class offered in the Italy program. Grace didn't have to know Pam didn't take it.

"C'mon, don't be shy," Grace said, sitting next to Pam. Pam reluctantly opened the sketchbook and flipped to the portrait. She drew it from memory, so it doesn't look that much like him, she figured.

"Wow, that's really good!" Grace exclaimed. She smirked, "He's cute, got any sketches of his whole bod?" Grace started to thumb through the pages.

Pam snatched the sketchbook away. "What? No! Why would - "

"This was a figure drawing class, right, aren't they usually naked?"

Pam could feel herself blushing madly. "He was … this was just … portraits, no nudity."

"Man, you're all shades of red, you must have really liked this guy." Grace stood to go to the sink and wash off her mask. "Should have gotten his number."

After setting the sketchbook back on top of the unpacked box, Pam pulled her knees to her chin. "Yeah, maybe, but you know."

"Language barrier?"

Pam gazed down to the floor. "Something like that."

After a good hour perusing the "For Rent" ads in the Times Tribune, Jim put down his newspaper and reached over to rub Casey on the head. It was July 9th, nearly one month since he was supposed to become a happily married man, and exactly three weeks since Pam came back from Italy. He felt guilty for thinking at lot more about that latter fact than he did about the former. It was also eight days since he put the rent check in the mail and determined he either needed a dog-friendly roommate or a dog-friendly smaller apartment before summer was over.

Correspondence with Lisa was short and usually involved very little talking; emails and text messages were mostly what Jim received. They broke the engagement only six weeks ago but his relationship with Lisa was already starting to feel like a distant memory, like one of his college girlfriends he had long lost contact with. Something that was so long term and ended so inexplicably should hurt more than this, he always thought. But it didn't hurt, and Jim figured he shouldn't feel so bad about not feeling bad.

The new receptionist would start tomorrow. Her name was Heather and she was college-aged with cherry red hair and heavy eye makeup. Judging by the horrified look on her face when Michael announced to everyone on Friday that he would be working her long and hard, Jim estimated she'd be gone by the end of the year. Kevin estimated she'd quit by the end of summer and they actually had a little wager going.

Jim's eyes wandered from Casey and the newspaper to a postcard on the coffee table. It arrived about a week after his break up with Lisa; a picture of the sunset in Florence and a few short sentences written in neat handwriting. He picked it up and studied bottom of the postcard, wondering what Pam wrote before scribbling over it to a point past any recognition. It was an appropriate metaphor, really. How many times had things been covered up between them? How many times could Jim tell Pam was holding back, the words in her throat desperate to escape? How many times has Jim stuffed his hands in his pockets, wanting to touch her shoulder, her hand, her cheek?

Jim eyed his cell phone, wondering how many chances to call and ask exactly what was under that scribble had passed him by in the last three weeks. Too many, he determined.

"Hey,"

"Hey, hi, Pam?"

"You've reached Pam. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you soon."

Jim felt his hand get clammy and nearly dropped the phone when the tone sounded to alert him to start his message. "Um, hey, um, it's Jim. Halpert." Duh, dumbass. "From Scranton?" Am I asking or telling? "And um, well, I'm calling to see how you are, and to tell you..." That I haven't gotten a damn thing done since you left, well, other than canceling my wedding. "Well, you probably heard about me and Lisa," Thanks to Kelly Kapoor, I imagine. "Anyway, um, yeah, we should talk." 'We should talk?' I sound like my father. "That is...if you want to talk. If you don't, that's fine. I would just... I'd like to talk." If someone Googled "crash and burn", this message would pop right up. "Um..."

Jim switched his cell to his other hand and accidentally hit the star key. A robotic voice started to speak. "To send your message, press 1 or hang up. To rerecord your message, press 3. To delete your message and hang up, press 5."

Jim pressed '3', "Okay, get it together, Halpert."

"At the tone, please record your message. *BEEP*"

"Hey, Pam, it's Jim. Wow, you would not believe my last message...um."

Jim pressed 'star' and '3' again. New rule, no mention of the first message.

*BEEP*

"Beesly! What's up? ...Fuck."

*BEEP*

"Hey, it's Jim. Listen, um, I'd really like to talk some time, about Italy of course, and what you're up to now, and some other stuff. Um..." Jim glanced down at her postcard. "...I miss you, Beesly."

Jim pulled the cell away from his ear and pressed 'star' again.

"To send your message, press 1. To rerecord your message, press 3. To delete your message and hang up, press 5."

Jim pressed a key and dropped the hand with his cell to his lap.

"Message deleted. Good-bye."

"Pam, someone's calling," Grace yelled over Pam's hair dryer. Pam made the six foot trek from the bathroom to her bed and picked up the vibrating phone. She stared at name on the screen and felt every muscle freeze.

"Pam?" Grace said, knitting her brows.

Pam shook her head. "I just don't recognize the number," she lied.

"Eh, probably some telemarketer, wait and see if they leave a message."

"Yeah, good idea." Pam took the phone back with her to the bathroom and set it on the counter, watching the screen intently as she ran a brush through her hair. Five minutes later the screen was blank; no new messages or calls.

"Nothing?" Grace called.

"Nope, wrong number, I guess." Pam said, wiping her cheeks. She switched her hairdryer on and turned it up to the highest setting, and was grateful for the little bit of privacy that the screen in front of the bathroom and the loud whirl of the hairdryer provided in the tiny apartment.

"Why don't you ever get one of those cardboard cup sleeves?" Grace asked.

"Jan hates those, and if I forget to remove it before I hand the drink to her..." Pam trailed off as the steel doors opened. She had been Jan's assistant for six weeks now and had yet to get through a week without some sort of coffee-related dilemma. Grace stepped off the elevator with Pam right behind her.

"Let me guess, you're better off burning your hand?" Grace said, opening the glass door for Pam.

"You got it," Pam said.

"Well then, get it to her before you form a blister," Grace said, fishing her bluetooth headset out of the top drawer of the front desk.

"Yes, ma'am," Pam said with a smile and she started down the hall to Jan's office. When she opened the door Pam was greeted by the back of a leather chair, Jan was already on the phone giving orders in her usual calm-but-firm voice. Pam cleared her throat and set the latte down on the desk. Jan spun around to Pam and held up her index finger as she finished up the call.

"Good Morning, Pam," Jan said, replacing the phone receiver. She picked up a stack of papers on her desk and handed it to Pam. "I'm going to need ten sets of those sales reports for a meeting on Wednesday, and the release form needs to be faxed to Stamford and signed by anyone coming to that meeting."

Pam nodded and thumbed through the reports, taking care not to linger on the one that said "Halpert, James" at the top. She reached the last document, one she recognized signing herself last year.

"Why do the Stamford people need to sign the release form for the Scranton documentary?" Pam wondered aloud.

Jan, already engrossed in writing in her calendar, looked up, surprised to see Pam was still there. "What was that?"

"Oh, just this release form," Pam said, "we all signed one like it for the documentary at Scranton."

"Yes, like I said, the leadership from Stamford and Scranton will both be here on Wednesday. We'll be discussing options for consolidation."

"You didn't say that," Pam muttered.

"Pam, I really can't hear you when you talk so low," Jan said.

"So they'll be filming?" Pam said quickly.

"Yes, for some reason they find Michael Scott to be a fascinating topic," Jan said, rolling her eyes. "All it's does is give him a great excuse to act out more."

"Michael was about the same with the camera crew there. Actually, he may even get in less trouble now because the interviews distract him," Pam retorted.

Jan narrowed her eyes. "That's right," she said mostly to herself.

Pam felt her own eyes widen, "What's right?"

"Pam, plan on meeting me at the end of the day, we're going to discuss the best ways to, um, work with Michael. Oh, and plan on sitting in on that meeting Wednesday." Jan opened her calendar back up and started writing. Pam supposed that was Jan's way of letting her assistants know they were dismissed. Her hand just reached the doorknob when Jan called her name.

Pam spun around, "Yes?"

"As I mentioned before, we're having a little lunch reception in the conference room to welcome the newer people, it's nothing big but I'd like you to introduce yourself." Jan said.

Pam nodded, "Okay, sounds good." She exited Jan's office and waited for the door behind her to latch before muttering, "And no, you didn't mention it before."

For the first time since the documentary started shooting last year, Jim felt nervous sitting down for an interview. The crew was back from their summer break, setting up equipment while Jim sat against the far side of the conference room, tapping his foot and trying to mentally prepare for the obvious questions they were going to ask. It was a quiet summer; the most exciting thing that happened at work was Heather, the receptionist hired right after Pam, storming out after only three weeks, making Kevin the winner of his bet with Jim. The new-new receptionist was a middle-aged woman named Mary who would give Jim a polite smile and asked if he needed something every time he unconsciously looked up at her. He was now down to only looking at the reception desk a couple of times a day.

"Are you ready Jim?" the documentary interviewer asked.

Jim nodded and sat up straight in his chair. The red light of the camera went on, and Jim rested his hands on his lap.

The interviewer got straight to it, "You're not wearing a ring."

Jim gazed down at his left hand, cursing himself for not doing a better job obstructing his ring-less finger. "Yeah, um, the wedding didn't happen. Lisa decided she wasn't ready and I … it was mutual, she didn't leave me at the alter or anything. It actually wasn't a big deal, I mean we lost the deposit on the catering and reception hall, the bridesmaids were pretty mad about ordering $200 peach-colored dresses, and I had to return a few gifts. Michael really wanted us to have his gift though, a hand-painted poster of himself as Scarface. Surprisingly enough Lisa insisted I keep it."

The interviewer chuckled, "Will you bring that in to show us sometime?"

Jim smiled broadly, "Yes, absolutely."

"I notice Pam isn't here."

Jim knew the cameraman was probably doing a slow zoom-in as his smile disappeared. "Um, yeah, she quit before her trip. And I don't blame her, coming back to this office after four weeks in Italy would probably be a huge letdown."

"Do you know what she's up to now?"

Jim looked off at nothing in particular, acting as if he didn't know exactly where Pam was. "I've heard she's at Corporate, doing a marketing internship and working for Jan." Jim decided not to disclose the fact that over the last few weeks he's nearly strained his neck a dozen times trying to hear Pam on Michael's speaker phone.

"Have you talked to her since she left?"

"I, um…" Jim gazed past the interviewer out the conference room windows, specifically to where Dwight's desk met his. It seemed so long ago, and yet it was still so vivid: her fingers in his hair, her breath on his cheek, the taste of her lip gloss. Jim's eyes darted back to the camera and he needed a second to remember the question. "I haven't talked to her. I should though."

Before the interviewer could ask Jim to elaborate, the door squeaked opened and Michael was standing there, saying he needed to speak to Jim privately about an "urgent lady issue".

"Sorry to cut this short but Michael has urgent lady issues." Jim said with a smirk to the camera.

"That's … not what I meant," Michael said loudly to the camera as he and Jim walked into Michael's office.

Pam tapped the side of her leg as she stood at the end of the line of people new to the corporate office. The CFO himself, David Wallace, was a few feet in front of her, making an impromptu speech about the recent hires and how he was confident they would improve the company. He asked everyone to say their names and titles, starting from the opposite side from Pam. Each person has a more impressive title than the last, coordinator of this, executive of that. When it was Pam's turn, she gulped, her eyes scanning the conference room full of the most senior employees of Dunder Mifflin.

"I'm Pam Beesly," she started quietly. "I am a marketing intern and administrative professional." She felt ridiculous saying that fancy title for "assistant". Her eyes fell to the back of the conference room and she swore she saw Jim, trying to hold back a smile. She blinked and saw it was just some male employee who happened to be brown-haired.

"Okay, thank you, and welcome all of you to Dunder Mifflin," David exclaimed, leading the room in a round of soft applause. The other new employees started to gathered around the CFO to shake his hand and get in some compliments, but Pam hung back. She knew the "administrative professional" drill; her job was to make everything easier for the higher-ups, not necessary to stand out. She looked around the room and was getting ready to make a break for the sandwich bar when David Wallace appeared before her with an out-reached hand.

"Thanks for joining us today, Pam," David said with a handshake. Pam's thoughts traveled to a time Michael returned from a business practices seminar, raving about the "perfect handshake"; firm but not too firm, three shakes, maintain eye contact and smile politely. The Scranton branch proceeded to spend all afternoon in a "handshake workshop" which Pam didn't mind at all as she was partnered with Jim.

"Thanks for including me," Pam said, trying not to laugh as David executed a "perfect" handshake. He and Michael must have attended the same seminar. "I have to admit I was a little nervous being introduced with all these people."

David cocked his head to the side. "Why is that?" He seemed genuinely curious.

Pam was not prepared for this reaction. "Oh, just um, just because I'm only a part time assistant."

David laughed and spoke in a low tone, "Don't sell yourself short, Pam, I know being Jan's assistant is not for the faint of heart."

No, it is not, Pam thought, but she bit her tongue and smiled.

David put his hand on Pam's shoulder, "If you need anything you know where my office is." Pam couldn't tell if that was a sincere offer or an just an empty platitude but she smiled and thanked David. He turned and immediately was in a new conversation with another manager. Suddenly Pam felt very hungry and made her way to the food, loaded up a plate and purposefully stood in the corner opposite of Jan. On her assistant workdays, Pam felt like she never got through her lunch before Jan desperately needed something.

Pam was washing down her sandwich with some soda when she noticed a manager was next to her. Pam had seen the young female manager around the hallways, and would be lying if she said she wasn't envious of the manager's tan skin and straight shinny dark hair.

"These things are so lame, aren't they?" the woman asked in a slightly husky voice.

Pam looked down at her plastic soda cup, "They could at least spice it up with some alcohol."

The woman chuckled softly, "Somebody got felt up the last time they served alcohol, so…"

Pam smiled, "At my old office we had a 'party planning committee' and the head of it was this super judgmental woman, basically anything that was fun was a sin."

"Oh, God, we had one of those when I was in Stamford, Hannah, except she was an 'uber mom' and wanted everything to be wholesome," the manager said with an eye-roll. She then snapped her head to Pam, "Sorry, I should probably introduce myself, Karen Filippelli, divisional sales manager, or director, I'm actually not 100% sure. You're Pam, right?"

Pam nodded, "Yeah I spend half the week interning downstairs and the other half as Jan's assistant. I used to be the receptionist at Scranton."

"Ah, so, you've worked for the infamous Michael Scott." Karen said, her full lips curling into a smile.

"I have," Pam replied, amused that that was her biggest claim-to-fame in the corporate office.

"How much of the stories are true?" Karen asked.

"Um, some details get exaggerated, but probably about 85-percent true?"

Karen drew in her breath, "Yikes, how'd you ever survive?"

Pam gazed into her plastic cup, trying not to blush as she recalled just a few of the thousands of little expressive looks Jim shot at her for three years. "We were able to help each other cope." She looked back up at Karen, "Also, it may be hard to believe, but Michael's actions are usually out of love and friendship."

A suspicious look crossed Karen's face, "I suppose I'll take your word on that. Wednesday will be interesting."

"Oh yeah, Jan's asked me to come to that meeting, sounds like it's kind of important?"

Karen looked around to make sure no one was nearby, then took a step closer to Pam. "Well you didn't hear this from me, but they're going to axe a branch by the end of the year, and they've narrowed it down to Stamford or Scranton."

Pam tried not to sound too surprised. "Oh, so … do you know would happen to the people at the branch that gets closed down?"

Karen shrugged, "Nothing's been decided, but probably only a few will be transferred to the other branch. You might wanna wish your old boss good luck on Wednesday." She finished off her drink, "Well good talking to you Pam, I'll see you around."

"Yeah, definitely," Pam said with the biggest smile she could manage. As soon as Karen's back was turned, Pam's smile faded and she slightly shook her head. She had seen the sales numbers from Stamford and had heard Jan call their branch manager Josh "charismatic" and "promising". The Scranton branch didn't need luck to remain open, it needed a miracle.

"So you really think McNabb is going to deliver after last season?"

After merging with the traffic on Interstate-80, Jim looked over to the passenger seat where Danny, one of the documentary cameramen, sat. "He better, he's my starter for week one," Jim said.

Danny shook his head as his fiddled with his handheld camera. "You can't be sentimental about fantasy football picks, man."

Jim smirked, "Says the Washington native who loaded his roster with Seahawks players."

"Hey, the Seahawks are legit this year," Danny said sternly. Jim chuckled and Danny lifted up his camcorder. "Alright, better start recording, Greg will probably chew me out for waiting a whole half-hour."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim could see the camera's red light turn on and he took a deep breath. "Well, it's about ten in the morning and I am on my way to the Dunder-Mifflin corporate offices in Midtown Manhattan. Michael is going for a meeting and Jan told him to bring his top salesman unless it was the guy who sprayed her with beet-scented perfume her last visit, then bring whoever." He gave the camera a half smile, "So, you're looking at Whoever."

"Tell us why you aren't carpooling with Michael," Danny said.

"You may be wondering why I'm not carpooling with Michael," Jim said, tilting his head to the camera, "and the reason is the last time I was in a car with Michael he sat in the back and kept covering my eyes as I drove and told me to just follow his directions. He said it was a trust exercise." Jim glance to the camera, smiling at the fact that Danny was trying to hold back a laugh. "So my options were get to New York alone or get in a fatal car accident somewhere in New Jersey."

"You met up with your ex-fiancee yesterday, how did that go?"

Jim chuckled to himself. Yesterday morning Jim's phone buzzed and he was shocked to see a text from Lisa asking to meet her for coffee at lunchtime. He thought he was stealthily evading the cameras, ducking out when Michael started fuming about a memo from corporate HR and stormed back to the Annex with the cameras in tow, but apparently the documentary crew had their ways of keeping tabs on everyone.

When Jim entered Jolt Coffee, a local cafe in downtown Scranton about halfway between their places of work, he spotted Lisa's messy bun right away, and as he walked over he debated what the best way to greet your ex-fiancée who you haven't seen in three months was. A hug? A peck on the cheek? She turned in her chair and said hello, motioning across the small table where a cup of coffee was already waiting for him. Nothing then, Jim thought as he took a seat.

Lisa was the first to ask, "How are you doing?" Jim noticed her lace her fingers together, a tell-tale sign of her being nervous.

"I've been alright, nothing very exciting happening since, um..." Jim scoffed softly, mostly at himself for bringing up the broken engagement right away, he then tried pass it off as a laugh.

Lisa played along and smiled back, "Yeah, same with me. How's work?"

Jim stared at his coffee mug, wondering if Lisa knew how dull work was for him now, "Um, summer was slow like usual, things are picking up with the school year starting. Probably the same for you, huh, at the county?"

Lisa nodded, "Yeah, I suppose." She leaned forward slightly in her seat, "That's actually partly why I wanted to meet."

Jim's eyes met hers, and he felt oddly anxious waiting for what she was going to say next.

"I'm flying out to California next week, looking at some grad schools along the west coast."

"Graduate school on the west coast, huh?" Jim said after a moment, fiddling with a crumpled sugar pack next to his coffee. "You never told me that was something you were thinking about," he added in a low tone.

Lisa pressed her lips together and took a deep breath, "No, I didn't, and I should have. The timing just never felt right, things kept happening and I kept telling myself 'oh well, maybe next year.'"

"So is that why you called it off?" Jim said, trying to sound unaffected but knowing he was failing. "You didn't think we could work that all out?"

"It was one reason, I suppose, there were others," Lisa replied. Jim raised his eyebrows, signaling her to continue and she stared into her coffee, "When I went to that bridal shop and my dress didn't fit, suddenly it felt like nothing quite fit."

"Okay," Jim said, knowing he had a puzzled look on his face.

Lisa looked up and tilted her head, "I mean, I thought about how I want to go back to school and travel and maybe live abroad. You want the backyard barbecues and the two kids rolling around with the dog and camping trips to the Poconos."

Jim almost blurted out a rebuttal, to tell Lisa that of course a family could have waited and he would have moved cross-country with her if only she would have talked to him about it, but he supposed that was her point, that she never was comfortable enough to confided her dreams to him and he never really asked.

"I feel like I got caught up in the 'let's get married because it's the next logical step' mindset without ever really thinking about if it was what I truly wanted," Lisa said.

Jim found himself nodding in agreement, "Yeah, maybe I did a little, too."

"Actually," Lisa let out a light laugh, "Pam was also kind of a catalyst."

Jim's eyes snapped back to Lisa. "What do you mean?" he asked, praying she didn't detect any change to his voice.

"She never struck me as the adventurous type but then she quit her job and went to Italy, and I guess I was a little envious of her courage."

'Courage' was not typically a word that came to mind when Jim thought of Pam, but he supposed she was rather courageous; leaving a steady job in the only town she had ever lived it, taking a risk with him knowing full well her heart would be broken. Perhaps he was a little envious of that courage as well.

"What's she up to now?" Lisa asked, interrupting Jim's thoughts.

Jim shrugged, "I've heard she's doing a design internship at the Dunder Mifflin offices in New York City."

"Have you talked to her?" Jim shook his head no. "Oh," Lisa said quietly.

Jim smiled nervously, "What?"

Lisa smirk slightly, "I just... I always kinda suspected you had a little crush on her." Jim put on his best 'oh really?' face, ignoring his increasing heart-rate. "You were in a bit of a funk when she left, but that was probably wedding stuff." She laughed, "Also, you two were just ridiculous at party games, it's like you could read each other's minds."

Jim smiled, maybe someday he would tell Lisa she wasn't too far off in her suspicions, but that day was a long ways down the road. "I am going to New York tomorrow for a presentation with Michael. Maybe I'll see her."

"Good, I hope you get a chance to catch up with her," Lisa said with a full smile.

They exchanged a friendly hug outside of the coffee shop, wishing each other luck and promising to keep in touch. Jim watched Lisa for a moment as she started down the sidewalk towards the county administration building where she worked. Her step seemed a little lighter and her head was held up a little higher; she never glanced back to him.

Danny cleared his throat and Jim's eyes snapped to the camera then back to the road. "Yes, I did see Lisa yesterday. We talked over coffee, she's already got plans to look at grad schools out west and um... I'm glad we met and that I know she's doing okay." When there was no follow-up question, Jim suspected they somehow got the whole conversation on tape, his mind flashing to an odd reflection in a car window by the coffee shop that he now realized was probably a camera lens.

"So who do you expect to see in New York?"

Jim bit his lip, he knew what, or rather who, Danny was prodding him to talk about. "I'll be meeting our CFO for the first time, which I'm looking forward to. And Jan, Michael is convinced Jan is in love with him which -" Jim started to shake his head, "I mean not the craziest claim he's ever made." After a long pause, Jim took a deep breath, "And, um, Pam is there so it'd be good to see her."

"Do you miss that relationship with Pam?"

"Um," Jim look at the camera with knitted brows and an uneasy smile, debating if he wanted to ask what exactly Danny meant by 'relationship'.

As if reading Jim's mind, Danny elaborated. "That partners-in-crime friendship you two had."

Jim nodded and thought about his answer, "Look, I sell paper and it's boring as you'd expect, but then again most jobs are kind of boring. The best you can do is find something that makes the day go by a little faster and maybe makes it a little more fun. Pam made my workday more tolerable, and without her there..." Jim side-eyed the camera and shrugged, "I don't know..."

A few minutes passed by silently before Danny asked his next question. "So your engagement ended a few months ago, have you started dating again or anything?"

Jim gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, already not liking where this line of questioning was going, "Nope, not yet."

"Any chance that might change today?"

Jim looked over and saw Danny's smirking face, then chuckled and shook his head, "C'mon man."

The red light went off and Danny set the camcorder down on his lap. "Alright, alright, I'll lay off for now." A highway sign saying the Delaware Water Gap was up ahead passed by the passenger window. Danny turned towards Jim, "So who do you think I should start at RB, Barber or Lewis?"

Jim smiled, grateful Danny was here to keep his mind off work and other things as he was driving. Mostly.

"So what exactly is this documentary about?" Grace asked as she and Pam walked onto the elevator in the lobby. It was lunchtime, Jan had sent Pam to fetch her another latte and Grace went with her mostly to ask questions about the documentary crew that was suppose to arrive soon.

"I can't even remember what they told us anymore, it's supposed to be a portrait of the typical American office or something," Pam replied.

Grace's lip lifted up into a sneer, "Sounds boring as hell. I mean, why would I watch people doing the same thing I hate doing everyday?" Pam laughed, and Grace's eyes fell onto Pam's hand. "Are you wearing ski gloves to hold Jan's coffee?"

"I found them at the thrift store, they're insulated," Pam said with a wide smile.

Grace shook her head and the elevator doors opened. Through the glass doors of Dunder-Mifflin, Pam could see the camera crew unloading their gear.

"Helloooo mic guy," Grace said out of the corner of her mouth as she and Pam walked in.

Pam blushed, and glanced at Grace who gave her a mischievous look. Pam then started towards said mic guy, who was rather good looking, not that Pam noticed that much when she was back in Scranton. "Hey, Brian."

Brian looked up and smiled, "Hey Pam, good to see you, how have you been?" The camera crew wasn't really suppose to fraternize with the office workers but after a year of filming most of the formalities had been forgotten.

"Not bad, pretty busy," Pam replied. She eyed all the cords and equipment around Brian's feet. "Do you guys want me to mic up or..." she asked reluctantly.

Brian shook his head and motioned to the boom mic. "That should pick up anything around the office here. But we do hope to get a sit-down interview with you."

Pam nodded, "Okay, yeah, maybe after the meeting?" Brian agreed and Pam set off to deliver the coffee, ignoring Grace's smirking face as she walked by the receptionist's desk. Before she entered Jan's office, Pam removed the ski gloves with her teeth and tossed them to the floor. She walked in to Jan nervously chewing the end of her pencil; on Monday Jan had confided to Pam that she was extremely worried about the meeting with Michael and David Wallace since the last one nearly ended in disaster. Pam strongly suspected there was more going on with Jan and Michael but she kept her suspicions to herself.

Jan thanked Pam for the coffee and Pam asked if she needed anything else. "A valium maybe," Jan said under her breath before she took a sip. Her face twisted up into a scowl and she pulled the cup away from her lips.

Pam's eyebrows raised in concern, "Too hot? I think they have new cups because they hold the heat a lot better than before-"

"There's foam," Jan said, holding out the latte towards Pam.

Pam suppressed a sigh, took back the too-hot paper cup, and left the office. As she squatted down to grab the gloves she had left by Jan's door, she could see the camera crew had spotted her and was already walking over. Pam held back another sigh and they began to follow her to the kitchen.

"I work as Jan's assistant now, it's a little hard to adjust when you're so used to a certain manager's style, but I'm learning a lot," Pam said to the camera as she spooned foamy milk into the sink. "For example Jan likes her lattes extra hot, and somehow even with the heat she can still detect the slightest irregularities." Pam place the cup into the microwave to heat the drink back up to the scalding temperature Jan preferred. "I once forgot to ask for skim milk." Pam gazed at the microwave, watching the green logo on the cup spin around inside, "That was not a good day."

"Hey," Pam spun around to see Karen coming into the kitchen. She tried not to laugh as Karen gave the camera crew leery looks before turning to Pam. "Your Scranton friends are here."

Pam nodded, putting a glove on and taking the latte out of the microwave.

Karen opened the refrigerator, "Oh, what's the name of the salesman? Tall, brown hair."

"That's probably Dwight," Pam said, recalling seeing a memo sent to Josh and Michael asking they bring their top salesman to the meeting.

Karen's face scrunched up, "Dwight huh? He's too cute to be named 'Dwight'." Karen reached into the refrigerator for a yogurt and Pam gave the camera a confused look after hearing "Dwight" and "cute" in the same sentence. Pam started for the doorway then spun back around when Karen called her name. "After the meeting remind me to tell you about the memorable exchange I just had with Michael Scott," Karen said in a sarcastic tone.

Pam smiled, "Aw, are you already besties?"

Karen pretended to gag and Pam laughed, not looking ahead as she stepped into the hallway.

Pam only saw a flash of a white dress shirt and dark-colored tie before her hands were pushed into her chest, the contents of the paper coffee cup exploding all over her shirt and arms. She gasped sharply and started flailing her arms hoping to shake off the hot liquid. She then looked up to see who she had collided with.

The tall figure in front of Pam tugged at the front of his shirt which was soaked with hot coffee. When he looked at her, Pam didn't recognize him for the briefest of moments; his hair was a little shorter, his face a little thinner. She opened her mouth but nothing would come out.

"Pam," Jim said, a smile passing over his lips before he looked to the crumpled coffee cup on the floor, "that is really hot!"

Pam let out a nervous laugh, but her brain and her mouth still refused to work together to form any words. He looked at her, seemingly having the same problem, then Karen appeared in Pam's peripheral vision.

"Nice work," Karen said, a roll of paper towels in her hand. Pam reluctantly pulled her attention away from Jim and she looked down to the coffee stain forming on her shirt. Karen's eyes darted between Jim and Pam, "You two should probably go run your shirts under some cold water, I'll clean this up."

Pam gave Karen a small smile, silently thanking her, and Karen nodded back knowingly. Pam then motioned down the hall, "Bathroom are this way," she said, walking ahead of Jim. With a couple long strides, Jim was next to her, and Pam occasionally looked up at him, only to look away shyly each time their eyes met.

"Too bad Dwight isn't here with his washboard," Jim joked.

Pam turn her head to him and laughed, the tension finally broken, at least a little bit. "You think he has a travel sized one?" she retorted.

Jim chuckled softly, and when they reached the restrooms, he shot her one of his trademarked goofy looks before disappearing into the men's room.

Tinted water circled the drain as Pam scrunched the fabric of her blouse between her fingers. She heard a knock on what must have been the men's room door. "Hey Scranton, here's a tee-shirt," Pam heard Karen say through the wall. The door squeaked slightly as if being barely opened, then latched again. "How's it going in there?"

"Uh, ask me again in five minutes," Jim replied. Pam smiled to herself, then turned to the opening women's room door.

"So Dwight's kind of a klutz, huh?" Karen said.

Pam cheeks burned, "Actually that's Jim."

"Ah, okay, that's a more fitting name," Karen leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. "And what's the story with you and Jim?"

Pam looked up to Karen, brows knitted, "Why do you think there's a story?"

"Please, both of you had that classic, 'Oh shit, I've just run into my ex' look on your face." Karen grinned, "Literally."

After years of doing her best to make sure her co-workers never caught on to even the smallest hint of her feelings for Jim, Pam was now in unfamiliar territory in that she didn't really have a reason to deny it anymore. "I suppose I had a crush on him back in Scranton." It was an understatement, but it was nice to admit it out loud. "But he was with someone else, so..."

"Ah," Karen shook her head, "there's always 'someone else', isn't there?"

Pam tilted her head and wrung out her shirt, "Well, actually..." she immediately regretted the words, as Karen was now staring at her with an arched eyebrow. "I did hear a rumor they broke up a couple months ago."

"Okay," Karen said skeptically. "So... what, you think it's too soon to ask him out?"

Pam felt herself blush, "Maybe, and I don't even know if he'd want to, and now we live a different cities..."

"You're both here in the same city today, though," Karen said with a shrug.

"We'll see," Pam said with an anxious smile, now desperate to drop the subject. She shook out her blouse and held it up by the shoulder seams. "What do you think?"

Karen studied the plum colored fabric, "I think you're in the clear. We can lay it out to dry on my desk. And I should have a sweater or something you can borrow in the mean time." Pam fortunately wore a dark gray tank under her blouse today, but sleeveless attire was frowned upon here at corporate so Pam was hoping they could get to Karen's office before Jan or someone spotted her.

"We should probably check on..." Pam said, motioning to the wall the men's and women's restroom shared.

Karen nodded, unable to resist smirking, and turned to the door with Pam behind her. Jim walked out of the men's room right then, and Pam stifled a laugh when she caught a glimpse of the tee-shirt Karen found, a bright purple number with Dunder Mifflin printed in turquoise cursive on the front.

"Where did you find that?" Pam said, covered her mouth.

"Supply closet," Karen answered.

"1986," Jim said at the same moment. He held up a small roll of fabric, "I think the tie will survive." After stuffing the tie in his pocket, he started to hold up his dress shirt, "And I don't know, maybe if I keep my jacket buttoned?" Pam's eyes traveled to the white shirt with a faint but large orange-brown stain on the front.

"Pam!" Heels clicked behind Pam, and when she spun around she was face to face with a somewhat frazzled-looking Jan. "What happened?" Jan said, immediately eyeing the blouse on Pam's arm and Jim's purple tee-shirt.

Pam started talking in a rather quiet tone, "Um I spilled your coffee-"

"Totally my fault, Jan, I wasn't looking where I was going and ran square into Pam," Jim interrupted. Pam felt herself blush and turned to look at Jim. His eyes snapped to hers and he smiled ever so slightly.

Jan noticed Jim's stained dress shirt and shook her head, "Okay, well, you can't wear that in front of the CFO. Meeting's in an hour, find a new shirt."

"Where?" Pam and Jim said at the same time, but Jan was already several paces away.

After a moment of Pam and Jim shyly looking at each other, Karen tugged on Pam's arm, "Both of you, follow me." As they walked down the hall, Karen looked to Jim, "I'm Karen Filippelli by the way, divisional sales manager."

"Jim Halpert," he nodded towards Pam, "I worked with Pam in Scranton."

"I heard," Karen said. Pam kept her gaze straight ahead. "Pam says you were nothing but trouble there too."

Pam's jaw fell and she looked to Karen, who was enjoying Pam's reaction far too much.

Jim laughed nervously, "Yeah, well..." He looked to Pam, and she returned her attention to the hallway in front of her.

The three of them entered Karen's office, not quite as spacious as Jan's but still sizable and with a decent view of midtown. "Put your shirts wherever," Karen said, opening a cabinet.

Jim draped his stained shirt over the back of a chair along the wall while Pam laid her blouse out flat on Karen's desk. Pam looked up to see Karen in front of her with a flannel shirt in one hand and a gold-colored card in the other.

"Take a cab to Bloomingdale's and buy the first decent-fitting shirt you find," Karen said, placing her company credit card into Pam's hand after Pam slipped on the flannel shirt. "Keep it under two-hundred if you can." Pam's eyes widened and Karen started herding her and Jim to the door, "You're on a time-table, guys, go!"

Nervous glances and shy smiles were exchanged at the elevator before the doors opened. After getting on, Pam spotted the camera crew, loading up gear and walking towards them, and let out a light gasp when Jim deliberately hit the "close door" button.

"Did I hear Kara say keep it under 200 dollars?" Jim asked after the elevator began to descend.

Pam smiled, "Karen, and I believe you did."

Jim whistled, "I need to get into more coffee accidents at corporate. Maybe next time you can try to aim for my shoes?"

"Don't make me part of your grift, Halpert," Pam said in a play-serious voice.

Jim chuckled, and kept his eyes on Pam, smile on his face. She tried to hold his gaze and return the smile, wondering if her cheeks were as red as they felt. The moment was interrupted by the ding of the elevator, the doors opening to a cameraman that somehow got to the lobby before they did.

After hailing a taxi, and waiting for Danny to bribe the driver with twenty bucks to let him sit in the front and film, Jim and Pam climbed into the back seat. It wasn't suppose to be like this, Jim thought to himself. He had been envisioning seeing Pam again for weeks now, but none of the many scenarios he ran through his head included coffee spills, bright purple company teeshirts or a camera two feet from their faces.

He glanced at Danny, who widened his eyes and looked to Pam then back to Jim, as if silently telling Jim to do or say something interesting for the camera. Jim then looked to Pam, "How's life at corporate?"

Pam nodded, "It's okay, pretty fast paced."

Jim tapped the armrest of the cab door for a moment, thinking of other ways to get a conversation going. "So who do you prefer working for, Jan or Mi-"

"Michael," Pam answered. Jim gave her a surprised look and she laughed, "I know, I never thought I'd say that, and he drives me crazy but he's definitely much easier to please . . . and to distract." Pam started talking about Jan's extremely specific coffee order and how she seems to expect Pam to read her mind and play counselor in matters related to Michael.

"Yeah, Michael's been so weird about Jan, too," Jim said. "He's been freaking out about this meeting all week, I keep trying to tell him it's not big deal." Jim noticed Pam's smile fade. "Or, is it a big deal?"

Pam chewed her lip, looking to Jim then to the camera then down to her hands. She starting tugging at the cuffs of the flannel shirt she was wearing. "Um, maybe." Jim shifted in his seat and turned towards her. "You're probably not suppose to know this, but the word is they're going to close down either Stamford or Scranton by the end of the year. And I guess this meeting is to help Wallace decide."

"Huh," was all Jim could utter. He stared at the empty seat between him and Pam, processing the news. "So, what would happen if-"

Pam gaze out the window, "Oh, he just passed it - excuse me!" She sat forward in her seat behind the driver, "Please drop us off here."

As Jim climbed out of the taxi, he noticed a camera crew getting out of another taxi just down the block, and he sighed. "Hey," Jim turned to find Danny right behind him, camcorder on his shoulder but no red light on. "We'll never get permission to film in there, so..." Danny said with a shrug and a smile on his face. Jim mouthed "thanks" to Danny, and turned to help Pam out of the cab.

The pair entered the swanky department store and make a beeline for the Men's department, and when a woman working near the business-wear section asked if they needed assistance, Pam pulled Jim to her side, "He needs a white or light blue shirt, regular fit, no patterns, less than $200, and he needs to be wearing it to a meeting that starts in 45 minutes."

After the woman introduced herself as Sarah, measured Jim's neck and arms and set off to find some shirts, Jim couldn't help but grin at Pam. "What," she asked shyly.

"I'm just observing Big City Beesly at work," he said, still grinning.

Pam tilted her head and smiled, "Well, it is true that you have to be more assertive here." They smiled at each other for a moment. He studied her hair, Big City Beesly apparently wore her hair down and in loose curls, a tendril came untucked from behind her ear and landed on her cheek. Jim's hand started to raise on it's own accord before he regained control and reached back to scratch his neck. Pam pushed the curl off her cheek and looked towards her shoes, "How are things in Scranton?"

Jim's put on a polite smile, "Um, it's good, quiet." He looked off at nothing in particular. "You make it up there anymore?"

Pam shook head slightly, "It's kind of hard since I'm at the office six days a week. And my parents are going out of town for Labor Day, so I don't know. Hopefully I'll get a chance before Thanksgiving."

"Yeah," Jim said, nodding. He took a breath, he mouth just starting to make the S-sound of a "so..." when Sarah returned with half-a-dozen dress shirts in her arms, asking them to follow her to the fitting rooms.

Sarah arranged the shirts in a fan pattern in the small room and said she'd check on them in few minutes. Once Sarah was out of sight, Pam grabbed a couple shirt, folded up in stiff fabric rectangles. "I'll get these unbuttoned and hand them to you when you're ready." Jim's brows met. "We're on a time table, Halpert!" Pam teased, tapping an invisible watch on her wrist.

"Okay, Okay," Jim closed the door behind him and pulled off the purple tee. "You think corporate will let me keep this tee-shirt?" he called through the door. "You know, for 80's office parties."

"You might need parachute pants and high-tops to go with it," Pam called back. Jim laughed and put on the first dress shirt, taking it off when the collar was too tight. He opened the door slightly and Pam handed him another shirt. "You've never been much for dressing up for parties though," she added.

"For that tee-shirt, I'll make an exception," Jim said, closing the door. The next shirt's sleeves were too long, and Pam handed him another. He buttoned the third shirt up, "Okay, I think we can send the other contenders home."

When he stepped out of the fitting room, Pam looked him up and down and smiled, "Okay, great." As Jim finished buttoning up the sleeves, Pam called Sarah over, handed her Karen's card and said Jim would be wearing the shirt out.

Jim remembered the tie in his left pocket. "May as well put this on now," he said, unfurling the tie and threading it under the collar.

"Here," Pam stepped forward, "I'll tie it like Wallace does, he notices things like that."

"Now you know different tie knots?"

Pam smirked and started adjusting the tie length and making the first loop. Jim took a deep breath as he realized the last time they were this close to each other was that May night in the dimly lit Scranton office, the night everything he thought he knew got turned on its head.

"I'm sorry I didn't call you," Jim said in a low tone.

Pam glanced at his face briefly before returning her focus to the tie. "I can't imagine everything you've had to deal with, I'm sure talking to me was the last thing on your mind," she said as she folded and looped the narrow band of fabric.

"Pam, you know that's..." Jim started, his voice now a whisper.

Pam's eyes snapped to his, her breath growing unsteady. Her hands rested on his chest for a second, and he felt himself leaning forward slightly, his eyes firmly on her. Can't she tell, he wondered, that she has been the only thing on his mind?

"Okay, just need a signature and you can be on your way to that meeting." Jim blinked and Pam was already a step away from him, signing the receipt and thanking Sarah for her help. Jim cinched up the tie knot, grabbed the violet tee-shirt from the fitting room and kept behind Pam as they left the store.

With Danny once again in the front seat, handheld camera on his shoulder, the cab ride back to Dunder Mifflin was fairly quiet. A couple times Jim mentioned Dwight's recent antics and Pam would laughed politely, but it kept fading back into silence.

Jim scratched at a small dark spot on his slacks, a stray coffee stain from earlier. "So I've seen Pam-the-assistant at work."

"Administrative professional," she said in a play-serious voice.

Jim let out a laugh, "Right, but what about Pam-the-designer?"

Pam nodded, "Well, there's another floor where all the non-executive types are, I have a little work station in a room with a dozen cubicles."

Jim saw the cab approaching the high rise building Dunder Mifflin was in, and glanced at his watch. "There's still 15 minutes before this meeting, I'd say that's enough time for a desk walk-by."

Pam's brow knitted, "Really?" Jim smiled and for the first time all day Pam gave him a full smile back.

The elevator doors opened to the other Dunder Mifflin floor, much more utilitarian and far less swanky than the offices above. Pam lead Jim, with Danny and his camera close behind, down the hall and through a maze of cubicles. 'Little' was the correct word as the desk only had room for a computer monitor, a keyboard and a notebook. "I do most of my sketching in the break room, there's not much space here," Pam said, opening up a drawer to pull out her sketchbook.

Jim eyed a paperweight shaped like the Tower of Pisa on Pam's desk, nearly asking her about her Italy trip before deciding that topic should wait for a more private conversation. Pam handed him her opened sketchbook, and he scanned through dozens of logo sketches, "Wow, you came up with all these?"

Pam smiled, "Yeah, I'm learning a big part of design is drawing until you stumble onto what the client wants, at least until I learn to read minds."

"Well, they all look great to me," Jim said flipping through the pages, pretending he couldn't tell Pam was blushing. He tilted the sketchbook up as he closed it, and a small yellow piece of paper fluttered to the ground. Before Pam noticed it, Jim kneeled to pick up the paper, a post-it note that lost it's adhesive long ago. As he stood, he flipped the paper over. There was some scratchy writing he recognized to be his own, and underneath a very unskilled sketch of Pam. His mind flashed back to a time two years ago, maybe three, when he discovered Pam would draw little caricatures of the staff during downtime at work. He drew this cartoon of her juggling office supplies with a word balloon saying "Dunder Mifflin this is Pam", and stuck the note in a folder of documents he gave Pam to fax out. He was on the phone with a client when she discovered it, unable to stop smiling as he watched her giggling at her desk.

"You still have this?" Jim said softly.

Pam's grin faded when she realized what was in Jim's hand, and she gently took the small paper.

"Keeping it around for inspiration?" Jim said, trying to avoid more awkward silence.

"Yeah, I suppose," Pam said quietly, slipping the sketchbook and the note back in the drawer. A ring came from her purse and she dug out her cell phone. Jim could hear Jan hissing "Where are you" on the other end as Pam assured her they were boarding the elevator as she spoke.

Pam was unsure what to do with herself while Michael was presenting what should have been a mid-year report on the Scranton branch but turned out to be a detailed recount of his long illustrious career at Dunder Mifflin. Doodling was out as she was suppose to be taking the meeting notes, plus she was right next to Jan. Jim sat directly across the table, his eyes meeting hers every time she glanced that direction. Pam settled for looking at the loud-colored tie of Stamford's top salesman, Andy, who she had already determined was the world's biggest kiss-up. She was looking forward to asking Karen about him.

Jan nearly jumped out of her seat to interrupt Michael when he mentioned something about how Dunder Mifflin had also brought love into his life, and she asked Jim to talk about what the Scranton branch has achieved in the last year. Jim was very engaging as he spoke about the branch, perfectly playing up it's acquisitions and talking about the potential of the area in the future. David Wallace thanked Jim once he was finished, Pam glanced up from her notes and noticed an impressed expression on David's face. She couldn't help but feel a little proud.

Across the table, Andy leaned forward in his seat. "That's nice, Slim Jim, but the numbers don't lie, Stamford's been smokin' your ass for four straight quarters."

"Andy, please," Josh said, rubbing his forehead. Pam stifled a laugh when Jim shot her a 'who's this guy?' look.

"But it's just a fact!" Andy replied.

David put a hand up. "Why don't we take a quick break?" he said calmly. "Let's reconvene in ten minutes." Everyone in the room murmured in agreement and David leaned over to Jan and asked her to come to his office.

After David and Jan exited, Michael rushed over to Jim. "We got a Code Jan," Michael said in a loud whisper. Jim widened his eyes at Pam as Michael whisked him off to the corner of the conference room. In the other corner, Andy was standing like a child being scolded as Josh talked to him. Pam drummed her fingers on the table for a moment before heading to the kitchen alone.

Pam had just poured herself some iced tea when Karen walked into the kitchen. "How's it going?" Karen asked.

"Um, not bad, Michael hasn't done anything lawsuit worthy yet. Actually the only outburst so far has come from Andy." Pam smirked, "He seems like quite the character."

Karen rolled her eyes, "We'll have to find a free evening sometime so that I can tell you the legend of Andrew Bernard. Many martinis will have to be involved though."

Pam chuckled, then looked at her shoes, "I feel like they'll probably keep Stamford though."

Karen slightly shook her head, "Yeah they probably will. And it's going to come back to bite them."

Before Pam had a chance to ask what Karen meant, Jim walked in, hands in his pockets. Pam craned her neck looking for a full camera crew, but only saw the one cameraman who was with them in the cab, and he was nice enough to stay in the doorway.

"Shirt looks good, Scranton," Karen said with a grin.

Jim looked at his crisp white dress shirt, "Yeah, it's really comfortable too. I'll have to pay you back."

"No, no, consider it a gift from Dunder Mifflin," Karen said, heading towards the hallway, "Besides any friend of Pam's is a friend of mine."

Alone in the kitchen, another moment of awkward silence passed before Pam asked if Jim wanted anything to drink. "I'll just get myself some water," Jim said. Pam fetched a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator and handed it to him before he could even grab a glass from the cabinet. "Or you know, some water may appear in my hand." Pam smiled and Jim opened the bottle and took a sip. "Okay, so cage-match, Dwight and that Andy guy, who would win?"

Pam laughed for half-a-minute before regaining her composure. "Um, that's tough, Dwight's better prepared maybe?"

"True, but he still abides by a certain code of honor, and you can just tell Andy is a dirty fighter," Jim replied. They laughed, and Jim started picking at the label on the water bottle. "I suppose they might be working together in a few months, huh?"

Pam nodding slightly, "I suppose, I'm sure the top salespeople would be transferred." She shyly looked to Jim, "I bet you would get transferred, I mean, if Scranton closed, and if you wanted to."

"Yeah, maybe." Jim resumed picking at the water bottle label, "If Scranton stays open, do - do you think you'd come back?"

Pam tugged at the hem of her to her plum colored blouse, still stiff from being rinsed out and dried flat, "Um, I don't know. If it was going to be the same, probably not."

"What if it's different?" Jim said in an almost-whisper.

Before Pam could respond, Jan was in the doorway, clearing her throat. "Sorry Jan," Pam said as she walked to the hallway, Jim close behind her.

"I think we're all feeling a little out of sorts today," Jan said, forced smile on her face. Halfway to the conference room, Jan turned to Pam, "Oh, I need you to stay after five and get some reports together for me, I'm doing my upstate visits tomorrow and Friday."

"Oh," Pam said, glancing back to Jim. "Um..."

Jan's eyebrow lifted, "Unless you have plans?"

"No, I don't, that's fine," Pam said. In the corner of her eye she could see the disappointed look on Jim's face.

The meeting resumed with Josh presenting the Stamford branch's midyear report. As well-prepared and well-spoken as Josh was, Pam couldn't shake the feeling that there was something a little phony about him. She looked to Jim, but for once he didn't look at her, he was focused writing on his notepad.

Josh's presentation ended with an overly enthusiastic round of applause from Andy, and David began a series of discussion questions. He and Jan were skillful at asking questions about potential situations without using the words 'merger' or 'closing' or 'layoffs', but Pam suspected everyone knew what they were talking about, with maybe the exception of Michael. The rest of the meeting was surprisingly normal; Jim did a good job of answering questions and keeping Michael on topic, and obviously Andy had been told by Josh to talk as little as possible.

David wrapped the meeting up by asking if anyone had any final thoughts. Michael raised his hand and stood. Pam noticed Jim shifting in his seat, and she also felt a nervousness in the pit of her stomach. Michael held up a paper airplane with various words written on it in marker. "Service, Leadership, Supply & Demand," he looked to Jan, "and Passion. These are the principles I use everyday to build the paper airplane that is Dunder Mifflin Scranton, and I know together we can continue to soar to new heights." Pam's eyes widened as Michael threw the paper airplane, which looped once before nosediving into the floor. "Dammit," Michael said under his breath as he bent down to pick up the airplane.

"Okay, great, thank you all so much for your time," David said, standing to shake everyone's hand. He made a point of shaking Jim's hand last and started chatting with him. Pam watched them, trying to hear their conversation, when someone said "Pam-a-lot" in a sing-songy voice behind her.

"Hey Michael," Pam said as she turned around.

Michael smiled broadly, "You good, they're treating you good here? 'Cause if they're not, you know I can always talk to Jan and-"

"Thanks Michael, I'm fine," Pam quickly said.

"Okay, good, and so you know, you're always welcome back. I will fire Mary tomorrow, just say the word. I hate her anyways."

Pam put on a strained smile, "Alright, I'll think about it."

Before she knew it, Michael had pulled Pam into a hug. She briefly returned the hug and he stood back, his hands on her shoulders, "Oh, kiddo, we miss you." His eyes looked past Pam, "Though I don't know if anyone misses you more than this guy. Right, Jim-bo?"

Pam turned to Jim, smiling to herself as he rubbed his face to mask his blushing cheeks.

"Hey, we should go hit up a deli, get one of those giant Reubens? Have some cosmos," Michael said.

Jim tilted his head, "Cosmos at a deli?"

"I actually have to stay and work, but maybe next time?" Pam replied.

"Okay, rain-check," Michael said energetically. He turned to Jim, "You need a ride back to Scran-town?"

Jim's brows met, "Um, I drove here, Michael."

"Of course, of course, okay I'll see you mañana then." Michael turned back to Pam and pulled her into another hug, "Proud of you, Pam-a-lam."

Once Michael left the room, Pam gave Jim an exhausted laugh. He chuckled and then held out some papers, "Don't forget your notes."

Pam thanked him and tucked the small stack under her arm. "So, um, I would say we should grab a coffee but-"

"Yeah, the Jan thing, I know, and I should probably start heading back." He reached back to scratch his neck, "Well definitely let me know if you come up to Scranton."

"For sure, and um, ditto for New York," Pam said.

Jim nodded, staring at his shoes for a moment before looking to Pam. "It was good to see you."

Pam put on the biggest smile she could, "Yeah, you too."

Jim slowly walked out the conference room, giving Pam once last smile through the window before walking down the hallway, shoulders slumped and hands in pockets. Pam looked at the floor, digging the toe of her shoe into the carpet, not noticing anyone walking into the room.

"Hey," Pam jumped a little and turned to see Grace, who was handing her a stack of paper. "Here are some faxes for Jan that just came in from Albany and Utica." Pam thanked her with little enthusiasm. "Let me guess, Jan just told you about her quarterly Upstate New York visit," Grace said.

Pam sighed, "She wants me to prepare everything before I leave today."

"Of course she does." Grace said with a scoff. "Well I'm stuck here for a while too so let me know if I can help."

Pam nodded and smiled, and Grace headed back to her desk. Someone called Pam's name and she turned to see the camera crew had set up an interview spot in the corner of the conference room. "We're ready when you are," Brian said.

"Okay," Pam replied. She set the faxes on the conference table then grabbed her meeting notes from under her arm. As she set the notes down, a yellow paper sticking out the side of the pile caught her eye. She tugged the paper and found it was a sheet from a legal pad, folded in half with her name written in familiar handwriting. She held her breath as she unfolded the paper. It was a rough doodle with a curly haired figure surrounded by various New York City landmarks. Above the doodle in big bubble letters it read "Big City Beesly." In the corner was another figure with a dark tie and floppy hair, big smile on his face.

"Pam?" She looked up to see Brian and the camera crew watching her. She looked down at the paper again, a teardrop landed next to the figure in the corner and started to discolor the yellow page.

"Um, I have to go," Pam said, wiping her cheek and backing up to the conference room door, "I'll be back in a few."

Pam practically jogged to the front office doors, turning to the reception desk. "Hey, did you see the guy from Scranton leave, the tall one?" she asked Grace.

"The cutie who kind of looks that Italian guy you sketched," Grace said with a smirk, and Pam felt her cheeks burned. "Yeah, he got on just a minute ago."

"Thanks," Pam said, pushing open the main door.

"Want me to have security stop him?" Pam heard Grace yelled behind her, but Pam couldn't respond as she all-but-dove to catch an elevator before the door closed.

Jim shuffled through the lobby before some of the documentary crew caught up with him, asking if he would do a brief interview. They had Jim stand up against the wall so the building's floor directory was visible behind him. The red light went on and the interviewer asked right away about seeing Pam.

"It was really good it see Pam. She seems to be doing great with her internship and, um, she's more confident. I think this is all good for her." He kept nodding and smiling as brightly as he could manage.

"Do you hope she comes back to Scranton?"

"Um . . . you know what I hope for doesn't really matter. I do miss her, and I hope we stay friends. But I mostly hope she's happy." He half smiled, "Scranton's probably a little too small and boring for Big City Bee-"

"Jim!"

Jim snapped he head to his left where Pam stood a few feet away, a little out of breath. He noticed a yellow paper in her hand. "Hey," he said.

Pam glanced to the cameras and for a second Jim was afraid she'd lose her nerve. She breathed deeply and looked to him. "Um, do you - do you have to get back to Scranton right away?"

Jim shook his head, "Not really, no." He felt a tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Okay, well, I know a couple places around here ... and I think we should go eat."

"Sounds good," Jim said, still holding back his smile.

Pam rocked on her feet for a moment, then motioned behind her. "Okay, I'm gonna go tell Jan I have plans after all."

"I'll meet you up there," Jim replied, no longer restraining his grin. He watched her walk to the elevator, shyly looking back at him several times. He chuckled to himself for a moment before remembering the camera crew. "Sorry guys," he said to the camera, taking a step towards the elevators, "I have a date."

"And then he started singing an acapella version of 'Father Figure' by George Michael."

"No!" Pam stifled her laughter. She couldn't believe she nearly told Karen she was too tired for Friday night martinis. Sure, she was probably going to be hungover at her design internship tomorrow but Pam decided it was worth the sacrifice.

"And I realized, 'Shit, he thinks we're on a date right now. And he thinks it's going well!'" Karen said with wide eyes as Pam sat next to her laughing.

"What did you do?" Pam stammered out between giggles.

"Well, I knew it would not work to just tell him I wasn't interested, so I lied and told him I was very flattered but I was already seeing someone. Pam, I faked having a boyfriend for three months! I create his whole backstory, I had notes so when Andy asked me about him I would be consistent."

Pam thought her sides would burst from laughing so hard, and felt herself sliding backwards on the barstool. Karen reached out to grab Pam's foreman and Pam regained her balance.

"Careful there," Karen said, now laughing herself.

"I actually have a history of falling off of barstools," Pam said.

"Oh do you?" Karen took a sip of her martini and swiveled to face Pam. "Sounds like a story."

Pam shook her head, "No, it's embarrassing."

"I just told you the tale of how I accidentally went on a date with Andy Bernard and then had a nonexistent boyfriend, his name was Matt Lewis from New Haven by the way, nothing can be more embarrassing than that."

Pam gave a sigh. "Well, it was at the Dundies last year."

Karen held up a hand, already giggling, "Wait a second, what the hell are 'the Dundies'?"

"That's what Michael called the employee appreciation awards. Every year we went to Chili's and he gave out these trophies like you got in little league soccer but it was a gold plastic businessman on top. And Michael tried to be funny about it, like he'd give an accountant a 'Show Me the Money' Dundie or someone from the warehouse a 'Wide Load' Dundie. So my first year, I guess I was the only employee that never brought a 'plus-1' to any event, and I ended up with the 'Most Eligible Bachelorette' award. Then it became a running gag that I'd get an award about being single."

"Such a jerk, you should have complained to HR," Karen said, her tone surprisingly serious.

Pam was touched by Karen's concern. "Yeah, I probably should have. But last year I decided to get drunk instead. So I had two of those giant margaritas and was finishing off everyone else's drink. By the time it got to my award I was just stumbling and giggling drunk. Then, much to my surprise, Michael gave me the Dundie for the 'Whitest Sneakers'. And I was just so happy, I went up there like I won an Oscar and gave this speech." Pam laughed, "Like I think I actually said I felt God in that Chili's."

"Please tell me someone videotaped this."

"The documentary crew was there, so there is definitely footage. Afterwards I was just this happy drunk mess and it's a little fuzzy but I remember sitting at the bar with Jim as he talked to the camera crew and then boom, I fall to the floor. Dwight thought I was having a seizure so he made a big scene. Then management figured out I had been sneaking people's drinks, and I am now banned from the Wilkes-Barre Chili's."

"Is there a big sign over the door with your photo saying 'Do not serve this woman'?"

Pam laughed and shook her head, "No idea, it's possible."

Karen lifted her brow, "So 'Whitest Sneakers', huh?"

Pam smiled, "Yeah, I actually found out later that Jim went to Michael and convinced Michael to change my Dundie. And I always came in wearing my white Keds then changed to my work shoes at my desk." Pam gazed down at her drink for a moment before looking back at Karen's smirking face. "What?"

"Speaking of Scranton Jim, how was your date, on Wednesday?"

"I don't know if I'd call it a date. It was short, we talked, that was about it."

"Yeah and you blush like crazy and can't stop smiling whenever you talk about him, so I know something's up."

Pam took a sip, and turned towards Karen. "Okay, but really, not much happened."

It took all the courage Pam had to walk into Jan's office and say she was sorry but couldn't stay late tonight. "Something's come up," Pam said quietly. She expected Jan to purse her lips and ask more probing questions, but Jan just said okay and went back to reading the documents in her hand.

Pam went to the front desk to grab her purse, trying not to blush when Grace nodded over to Jim waiting in the corner and muttered, "Looks like you caught him". Jim and Pam walked to the elevators together and kept catching each other's eyes and smiling as they waited. Jim looked as if he was about to speak when they were surrounded by what seemed to be every person that worked on the floor.

The elevator doors opened, already with several people on board, and Jim and Pam stepped on, quickly getting shoved around. Jim reached the rear wall of the elevator, and Pam ended up with her back somewhat pressed up to his side. There was one more shove from the front and when Pam fell backwards into Jim's chest, he instinctively raised his hands to grab her shoulders. "You okay?" he asked quietly. She nodded, glad she wasn't facing him so he wouldn't see her cheeks grow red. She smiled to herself as he kept his hands on her shoulders for a few seconds before dropping them to his side.

After stopping at what felt like every floor, the elevator reaching full capacity, they arrived at the lobby. "Yikes," Jim said, adjusting his jacket and messenger bag strap when they reach a less crowded spot near the building entrance. "Welcome to New York, huh?"

Pam smiled, "Yeah, you gotta adjust your sense of personal space." She motioned outside, "There's a really good Thai place nearby."

Jim said that sounded great and they ventured onto the street. Much like waiting at the elevators, there was not much opportunity to converse as the sidewalk was flooded with business-suited people getting out of work. Jim just followed Pam as she weaved around pedestrians and crossed busy streets before they arrived at a small, tucked away restaurant.

The restaurant wasn't busy and Jim and Pam were seated at a small table in the corner. Pam's knee bumped his as they sat and they both laughed and apologized. Pam wondered if Jim was half as nervous as she was.

"So it's New York prices, but they give you good portions. I always leave with lunch for the next day," Pam said.

"Would it be really unadventurous of me to just get Pad Thai?" Jim asked after glancing at the menu.

Pam laughed, "Nothing wrong with that, it's really good here." She signaled to the waiter who quickly came to take their order.

"Speaking of adventurous, I wanted to hear about your trip," Jim said.

Pam felt her smiled fade a little; she knew he would ask about Italy but she didn't want to reveal the truth, that she was too distracted half the time to truly enjoy it. "Yeah, I suppose ... you haven't heard anything about it."

Jim politely smiled, waiting for her to continue.

"Um, it was good, Florence is really beautiful, I saw work by Michelangelo, Leonardo Da Vinci-"

"All the Turtles?"

Pam laughed, "Yes, all the turtles. You know we're in their home city now, we might run into them."

"Splinter at least," Jim said.

"Oh I've definitely seen Splinter, he lives in the 57th Street station," Pam said, pleased with herself for making Jim laugh.

Jim held up his hands, "Okay, less mutant rodents and more Italy." He asked several more questions about the places Pam visited and the art she saw, keeping the conversation steady well after their food arrived.

They were both about half finished when Jim ran out of Italy questions, and Pam pushed her panang curry around her plate, unsure what to talk about next. "So how was your summer?" she asked without thinking. She felt her eyes widen and looked at Jim's faint smile, "Oh, I – you don't... we don't have to..."

Jim chuckled, "It's okay, we don't have to tiptoe around it. My wedding got called off, I tragically had to send back my Aunt Shelly's gift which was, appropriately enough, a lamp made out of seashells–"

"No it wasn't," Pam said giggling.

"Oh yeah, it was. Also, Dwight was actually nice to me for nearly a month, telling me that when an enemy of the Schrutes suffered a great personal loss, it was customary to put aside differences for one lunar cycle. We went paint-balling together." Jim gave her an uneasy smile then took a deep breath, "And uh, of course, the one person I really wanted to talk to wasn't around, and I was too chicken-shit to call her for nearly three months, so... yeah."

Pam bit her lip at looked at her plate. The waiter interrupted the awkward silence by coming over to ask if they wanted to-go boxes, and Pam smiled and nodded. "We will also take the check," she glanced at Jim, "unless you..."

Jim shook his head, "I'm good."

The waiter left with their plates and Pam put on a big smile, "So, paint ball with Dwight, huh?"

"Pam," Jim said quietly. "Don't change the topic, don't let me off that easy."

Pam shrugged, avoiding Jim's eyes, "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

Pam looked him for a second before casting her eyes down. "Okay, why didn't you call me for three months?" she said, more quietly than intended.

"Fear, I guess, maybe some guilt also," Jim said after a moment. Pam could feel his leg nervous twitching under the table. "After that night... at the office, I was just thinking about a lot of things, and hardly any of those thoughts were about the woman I was going to marry." He laughed a strained laugh, "Then Lisa comes home one day plagued with doubts about getting married and our relationship. And I couldn't ease those doubts because..." he looked down at Pam's hand resting on the table, "my heart wasn't in it anymore. It was... somewhere else. Lisa somehow sensed that, and that was it, she called it off."

The waiter returned with their to-go boxes and the bill. Pam turned to grab her billfold from of her purse, but Jim already had his wallet out.

"I got it," he said, placing his credit card on the small tray the bill sat on.

Pam could feel Jim's eyes on her, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, an overwhelming feeling of guilt washing over her. "I'm sorry," she whispered after a while.

"Why are you sorry?" Jim said.

She slipped her hand through her purse strap and grabbed her to-go box. She stood right as the waiter picked up the credit card. "Thank you for dinner, I'm glad we got to talk," Pam said quickly. She ignored Jim calling her name and opened the restaurant door.

"Pam, wait!" Pam kept her pace up as she walked down the sidewalk but could hear running footsteps approaching her. "Pam!" His hand reached her elbow and she stopped and turned around.

"It's my fault," Pam said, her eyes stinging.

"The wedding?" Jim said with knitted brows. Pam nodded. "How is it your fault?"

"If I hadn't told you I had feelings for you, if I hadn't k-kissed you, then you wouldn't have had doubts, and then maybe you could have reassured Lisa, and maybe she wouldn't have left."

"That's an awful lot of ifs and maybes, Beesly," Jim said with a half smile.

"I shouldn't have done it," Pam said quietly, shaking her head.

"Listen," Jim said, taking her hand. "I was just going through the motions with Lisa, I had been for a while. And she was doing the same with me. Yeah, maybe we would have gone through with it, but you know what, Beesly? I'm glad you told me and I'm glad we kissed because it made me realize I was about to get married to someone I didn't really know that well." He laughed, "Hell, I know more about Dwight's hopes and aspirations than I knew about Lisa's."

Pam chuckled and reached up to wipe her cheek.

"You are not the reason I didn't get married, you just helped me see the reasons why it would have been a mistake." He smiled slightly and gave her arm a light tug. "Okay?"

Pam nodded, "Okay."

Jim pointed his thumb back over his shoulder, "Cool, I'm gonna go back to the restaurant and hopefully all my stuff is still there, you gonna stay put?"

"Yeah, I'll be right here," Pam said with a laugh.

"Good," Jim said, giving her a big toothy grin before turning up the street.

"So then what happened?" Karen asked. "Did you guys get dessert, did you make-out?"

"Um, he walked with me to the subway and said he would try to come visit sometime soon," Pam replied. Karen gave a disappointed look and Pam laughed, "I told you it wasn't very eventful."

"Okay, so 'soon' like what? Next week? Next month?"

Pam shrugged, "I don't know."

"Give me your phone," Karen said, reaching for Pam's purse.

Pam drew her purse away from Karen's grasp. "What?"

"Pam, trust me, guys our age, even when they like you they're terrible at making moves, you need to give them a push."

"You're not going to send a message for me."

"Then you send a message, just say you hope to see him in the near future. Plant the seed in his head."

"Fine." Pam took her phone out of her purse and looked at her screen. "Oh, my God," she mostly said to herself. She looked to Karen's curious face, "Jim called me like 15 minutes ago." Pam glance around the busy bar.

"Yeah, it's way too loud in here to call him back, text him," Karen said, reading Pam's thoughts.

"'Out having drinks, what's up?'" Pam recited as she typed.

"Say you're with me, so he doesn't think you're out with a guy," Karen quickly added.

Pam scoffed a little; she doubted that Jim would think she was on a date, but she added 'w/ Karen" anyway and pressed 'send'. Pam set the phone down and she barely got chance to take a sip of martini before her phone buzzed.

"He was eagerly anticipating that message," Karen said with a raise brow.

Pam pressed the 'message open' button and read it aloud. "'How about I come up next weekend?'" Pam's jaw fell.

Karen motioned to the phone, "Text him back, say yes!"

Pam carefully typed, 'That sounds good'. She placed the phone down on the bar and laced her fingers together nervously.

"Can we get another round?" Karen shouted to the bartender. She turned back to Pam, "What are you two gonna do? It's Labor day weekend, he'll stay a night or two, don't you think?"

"I-I don't know," Pam said, still dumbfounded at Jim's previous message.

Karen smirked, "Are you gonna have him stay with you?"

Pam rolled her eyes, "In my broom closet with Grace? Yeah right." The phone buzzed and Pam nearly dropped it as she flipped the phone open "'What time are you usually finished on Saturday?'" she read to Karen.

"Okay, definitely staying overnight then," Karen said. "Make sure he books a nice hotel."

"Why would I care what kind of hotel he..." Pam looked at Karen, who was grinning madly. "I'm... not gonna think about that right at this moment."

"No, don't think about it, that ruins the spontaneity. Just, you know, be prepared," Karen said, lifting her glass to her curled lips.

Pam blushed and text Jim that she was usually finished at 4pm on Saturdays, but could leave earlier. She set the phone down again and finished off her drink. "Hey, off topic, but do you remember when you said it would come back to bite Dunder Mifflin if they kept Stamford?" Karen half smiled and nodded. "What did you mean?"

The bartender arrived with their next round of drinks, and Karen started to twirl the stirrer of her new drink between her fingers. "You know, Josh was actually was gunning for my current position, and for a while he really passive-aggressively prevented me from even applying for it. Then he realized it wasn't going to be a raise in pay or status. He also realized if he didn't fill my Stamford position, and just made all the other salesmen take on my clients with no base pay increase, that would make the branch look very productive to corporate and get him kudos from Wallace." Karen popped the olive from her drink into her mouth. "Guess which branch is short a salesmen and which regional manager got the biggest bonus last quarter?"

Pam nodded slowly. "So Josh looks out for Josh," she said.

"Exactly."

Pam half smiled, that was one point in Michael Scott's favor, she reckoned, he truly cared about his employees even if he expressed it in very misguided ways. Pam's phone buzzed and Karen's eyes widened, darting between the phone and Pam. Pam scoffed softly at Karen and read the message. "'I'll meet you at DM at 4 next Sat. Pick a place to go before dinner.'"

"What, he's gonna make you plan this date?" Karen said sarcastically.

The phone buzzed in Pam's hand. "'I booked something for after dinner,'" Pam read.

"Write, 'oh yeah, what?' and winky-face," Karen said, the corners of her lips curling up again.

Pam blushed, "Wow, no." Karen snickered, and Pam send one last message.

"What did you say?"

"'Can't wait', and I compromised and put a smiley face." Pam said. After a moment, the phone buzzed again and Pam smiled when she saw, "Me either, Beesly".

Karen leaned over to read the text, "He calls you 'Beesly'?"

Pam shrugged, smiled still plastered on her face, "Sometimes."

"Ugh, you two are already nauseatingly cute," Karen said in faux disgust. "So now that that's sorted out, tell me more ridiculous Michael Scott stories."

Pam put her phone away in her purse, took her drink in her hand, and turned to Karen. "Okay, let's start with the Adventures of Agent Michael Scarn of the FBI..."

Jim sat in his car, munching on the leftover sandwich from his lunchtime sales call and checking his calendar for the week. He just met with the office manager of the Scranton Orthopedic Center and got a verbal agreement they would come to Dunder Mifflin next quarter. After jotting down a reminder to make a followup call by Friday, his eyes fell on Saturday, where it said "NYC" in big letters. The smile wouldn't leave his face as he polished off his tuna melt.

After throwing the sandwich wrapper away in the dumpster behind the office building, Jim glanced over to the usual smoker's spot and saw Danny, a nylon bag that Jim presumed held his camera at his feet. Jim walked over, keeping some distance as he knew Danny could get in trouble with the documentary producers for chatting with 'subjects' too much. "Hey, haven't kicked it yet?" Jim said, motioning to the cigarette.

Danny scoffed and flicked some ash to the ground, "Nah, it might be worse now."

"The hazards of Dunder Mifflin, I'm shocked I haven't taken up smoking or developed a drinking problem," Jim said.

"Not a serious one at least," Danny retorted. "So, how was your date last Wednesday?" he asked with a smirk.

Jim shook his head, "Not much of a date, we just talked." He rocked on his heels, and looked around to double check they were alone. "But, um, can you maybe not tell the crew this?"

"You're off the record," Danny replied, lightly kicked his bag.

"I'm going back to Manhattan this weekend," Jim said, corners of his lips curling.

Danny nodded and took a long drag, "How do you feel?"

"I'm freaking out, actually," Jim said with a nervous laugh. "Like, it's going to be our first real date, but it feels like a lot more than that."

"Well it kinda is," Danny said. Jim felt his eyebrows raise in worry. "I mean, first dates are two relative strangers deciding if they like each other. You and Pam are a bit past that, don't you think?"

"No pressure there," Jim said, putting on an uneasy smile.

"Nah, it's good. You two are beyond that first date bullshit, you know her, she knows you, you can just be yourselves," Danny flicked away his cigarette butt and reached for the strap of the camera bag.

Jim supposed it was good, skipping the 'first date bullshit' as Danny called it. However, Jim felt like they were also going to be skipping the 'just dating' part. He had always taken it pretty slow with women, tried to keep things casual as long as he could. It was weeks, maybe even months, before he ever called Lisa his 'girlfriend', and was only at her insistence. He knew it was going to be different with Pam; there was not going to be any period of dating casually. After Saturday they were either gonna be together or they weren't. Jim was pretty sure it would be the former option, and he was also sure he wasn't going to be hesitate like he had been in the past. No, everything was going to be different with Pam, in a good way.

"Hey, can I ask one more off-the-record thing?" Jim said. Danny stood up straight, camera still on the ground, and gave him a nod. "You guys have been filming us for a year, could you tell, like, did I act like I liked her? Before Casino Night?"

Danny smirked, "Do you remember, shortly after we started filming, the day you lost that big client to Dwight?"

"Only every time I get my paycheck," Jim said with a strained laugh.

"You walked into the conference room all slouched over and sat in the back like you wanted to just disappear. For some reason I panned to you and was lucky enough to catch the second Pam dozed off on your shoulder. And your reaction?" Danny chuckled and slung the camera bag strap onto his shoulder, starting for the warehouse entrance. "Yeah, we all knew something was up. Why do you think we filmed you two so much?"

Jim remained by the dumpster, pondering Danny's last comment, until his watch beeped at the top of the hour and he headed upstairs, walking in right as Michael was calling everyone to the conference room for an "end of month" meeting.

Unsurprisingly, the meeting consisted of information that could have just as easily been distributed via memo or email, then it dissolved into Michael heckling Toby about who knew what. Jim glanced to the empty chair beside him; he had almost forgotten about that day until Danny mentioned it, when Michael's stupid diversity training prevented him from renewing the Deckerd account. He remembered walking into the conference room, thinking about how many new clients he'd have to wrangle to make up the commission, about the unpleasant conversation he was going to have with Lisa when he told her about it, if he told her about it, when he felt a weight on his shoulder. Every worry faded to the back of his mind and all he could think was how he needed to stay perfectly still so as not to wake Pam. And then he thought that she wouldn't do this with just anyone; she wouldn't doze off on Kevin's shoulder, or Stanley's or Oscar's. Definitely not Michael or Dwight. No, she'd only do this with him, and that made him smile. The room emptied except for the camera crew and Jim glanced at the lens before waking her, unsure why he was so reluctant.

When they took the elevator down together, Jim sensed Pam's embarrassment and tried to lighten the mood with some lame comment about literally sleeping in the job. She laughed and as they walked through the parking lot, they debated who in the office had the best case for a discrimination lawsuit against Michael. After wishing each other a good night and parting ways to their cars, Jim thought about how this should have been his worst day ever at Dunder Mifflin, but somehow it turned out to be not that bad. Not a bad day at all.

Someone brushed by Jim's knee, making him lift his head and realize the meeting was over, or at least everyone other than Michael had decided it was over. Jim found himself looking at reception as he returned to his desk, wishing Pam was here to exchange sarcastic remarks with him about the meeting. He opened up Outlook and just finished typing in her email address when a buzz came from his pocket. He flipped his phone open to find he had two new texts from Pam. He tried not to smile too widely as he hit "Open".

From: Beesly
Wallace might hate the corporate HR guy more than Michael hates Toby
*Next Message*
Also Stamford Andy has a music page on MySpace under 'Nard Dog'

Jim glanced over to Dwight's desk to find it empty, and scanned the room until he spotted Dwight at accounting. Jim hit "reply" and started to type.

- I wanna hear all about it this weekend

Jim pressed 'send' and lifted his head again to see if Dwight was on his way back, but he was still at accounting, watching Angela as she pulled files from the cabinet. She dropped a folder, Jim was almost positive on purpose, and leaned over slowly to pick them up, jutting her rear end out. Jim grimaced at the sight, and pressed "new message"

- BTW something's up with Dwight and Angela, they're acting too weird

A moment later his phone buzzed and he flipped it open.

From: Beesly
Yeah I know all about Dwangela ;-) I'll fill you in on the details on Sat

Jim let out a laugh, and Dwight's head spun around, shooting Jim a glare. Jim tried to pass it off as a cough, slipping his phone back into his pocket and returning his attention to his computer. The front desk phone rang and Jim couldn't help but turn to the reception desk when he heard, "Dunder Mifflin, this is Mary." He closed his eyes briefly, imagining Pam's curly hair and green eyes, hearing that soft giggly laugh that always made him smile. Five days, he told himself, just gotta get through five days.

Sitting on the front steps of the Dunder Mifflin headquarters, Jim was regretting the extra large coffee he drank on his drive to Manhattan. Now he was both nervous and jittery, and probably would have to find a restroom before too long. He checked his cell phone, it was 15 minutes past when Pam was suppose to be done at her internship, and there was no call or text from her. While debating whether or not he should go upstairs and surprise her, Jim saw a curly haired silhouette on the steps beside him.

"I'm so sorry, we usually can sneak out early on Saturdays but the network crashed this morning and I wasted a hour on the phone with the IT guy who was really grumpy I didn't know as much as him about computers," Pam said quickly.

Jim held back a chuckle as his stood; seeing Pam clearly as nervous as he was somehow made him a little less nervous.

"Also I hope we're not having dinner anywhere fancy because I kind of threw this on this morning," Pam said.

He quickly looked her up and down, suspecting she put a little more thought that she claimed into her blouse and dark blue jeans. "You look great," he said sincerely.

Pam turned her blushing cheeks away and looked up the street, "So I was thinking we could check out MoMA before dinner? It's pretty close to here."

"Okay, that sounds good," Jim said, searching his mind for what "MOMA" meant. Was it someone's name? An acronym?

"Museum of Modern Art," Pam added, as if sensing his query.

"That makes sense," Jim said, nodding. "See, design is helping you learn to read minds," he added with a smirk as they started down the steps.

Fine Art was not a topic Jim knew much about, and "modern art" was definitely beyond his grasp. But he did enjoy listening to Pam talk about the paintings as they wandered around the gallery, about how Monet and the other impressionist caused a huge stir in the art world just by using big, imprecise brush strokes, how Picasso went through dozens of different distinct styles in his lifetime, how a bunch of the famous Abstract Expressionists were friends with each other, and some were even married.

They stopped in front of a gold framed painting, Jim didn't know much about art but he knew this painting, with it's dark tower-like form and swirls of yellow and blue, was by Vincent Van Gogh.

"Van Gogh's one of my favorites," Pam said quietly.

Jim tilted his head, studying the painting. "Why's that?"

"I really like how he uses color. And I feel like his paintings always convey a really strong emotion, like joy or loneliness. Also I learned he didn't really start painting until his late twenties, and he had a lot of self-doubt." Pam turned her face to Jim and shrugged, "Which I can kind of relate to."

Pam returned her focus to the painting and Jim watched her for a moment, before cracking a small smile and lifting his hand. "You're not thinking about cutting off your ear though, right?" he said, moving her curls aside until he found her earlobe and gave it a light pinch.

She giggled and playfully pushed his hand away, but once her hand was dropped back to her side, he wrapped his fingers around hers.

"I think I would have done better in Art & Humanities class back in high school if I had a teacher like you," Jim said, enjoying watching Pam's cheek grow red. Her hand was small and soft in his and her eyes were bright and green and he really wanted to kiss her right then. It wouldn't magically erased Pam's self-doubt, but it would show her she didn't have to doubt him or how he felt about her, not anymore. Plus, it would have be romantic; their first real kiss on their first real date in front of Van Gogh's Starry Night. But there was a soft chime coming from a nearby speaker, signaling the museum was closing shortly, and Pam's hand slipped out of his as she turned towards the exit.

"How did you find this place?" Pam asked after she and Jim were seated in the small Italian restaurant just a short walk from MoMA.

"I went to a restaurant review site and tried to find something that was like Cugino's but in Manhattan," Jim said, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Cugino's, huh?" Pam said, her cheeks growing pink, "where I embarrassed myself in front of my new coworker by getting marinara sauce all over me?"

"Hey, you should not be embarrassed, I know that meatball attacked you unprovoked," Jim said, smiling at Pam's laughter. "Beside," he started in a lower tone, "that's when I knew that I liked you. I mean, I knew that we were going to be good friends."

Pam smiled shyly, "Yeah, I knew I liked you then too."

After the waiter came to pour them wine and take their order, Jim half-smiled at Pam. "So, you said you knew about Dwight and Angela, or ... what did you call them?"

"Dwangela, it's their celebrity name, like Brangelina," Pam said, taking a sip of wine. She recounted how she noticed little things, seeing Angela buy two candy bars then catching Dwight eating the same candy bar later, watching Angela get extremely concerned when Dwight went to the hospital with a concussion early that year, and of course the clinker was Dwight coming to Pam for ideas on what to get an unnamed woman for Valentine's Day.

"That's some good detective work, Beesly," Jim said.

"I'm a regular gumshoe," Pam replied in a silly, old-timey voice. Her cheeks flushed and she covered her face with her hands, "Oh my God, sorry, I'm such a dork."

Jim thought about reassuring her that her dorkiness wasn't a bad thing, he actually found it rather cute, but decided it would make her feel more nervous. "Speaking of dorky, did you know there's an old abandoned mailbox on the grounds at the Scranton Office Park." Pam smiled and shook her head no. "Well, there is, in the shrubbery behind a sign. And I may have left a flyer in there saying the government is looking for vigilant citizens to assist them. And Dwight may now think he is corresponding with the CIA."

Pam giggled, "So I guess he didn't see 'A Beautiful Mind'?"

"I doubt those are the kind of movies Angela's into," Jim replied, smiling as Pam let out a laugh. "I haven't decided where to go with it yet, and I'm trying to figure out how to keep him from suspecting that it's just me leaving the letters."

"Oh!" Pam said, her eyes lighting up. "What if he starts getting mysterious faxes? Like with information only he would know?"

Jim put his hand to his chin as if in seriously thought, "That might be good."

Pam's eyes widened, "Like ... from his future self?"

Jim pointed at her, "Beesly, you're a top gumshoe and a genius." She grinned broadly, her tongue peaking out between her teeth. Jim smiled, he had missed this so much, joking and bantering with Pam Beesly. There were few things in the world he enjoyed more.

After dinner they took another short walk towards Rockefeller Center, and Jim was pretty sure his own cheeks were red when Pam took his hand without any provocation.

"You know they don't have the big Christmas tree up yet," Pam joked as they crossed the street towards the plaza.

"Oh, damn, I suppose the date's over then," Jim said in a faux serious tone. He slipped his hand out of hers and started to walk off, "Later, Beesly."

He got a few paces away before turning around, laughing at Pam's pretend-shocked face. He jogged back towards her, reaching for her hand again. "C'mon, we're gonna go see something a lot better than a tree."

"I certainly hope so after that stunt," Pam said in a play-annoyed voice, but she gave his hand and squeeze and Jim was pretty sure she has forgiven him.

Jim was sort of hoping to surprise her, but the door labeled 'Observation Deck' flanked with 'Top of the Rock' signs gave his plan away. "I hope this isn't too touristy, now that you're practically a New Yorker."

"I think Big City Beesly can still appreciated this," Pam replied.

After the doors of the large elevator closed, Jim looked to Pam and smiled and she asked what he was thinking about. He shook his head saying it was silly, but she insisted. "I'm just thinking we've spent an above-average amount of time on elevators together."

Pam nodded, "I guess we have." She smiled. "I've always kind of looked forward to it," she said in a quiet tone before shyly looking away.

Jim watched her and smiled, he supposed he always kind of looked forward to it also.

The elevator arrived at the top floor and they disembarked with a dozen or so people. Shortly before the door leading to the outside, Pam stopped. "You should close your eyes." Jim knitted his brows and Pam smiled. "I just think it'd be more fun, you know, since you're small town boy seeing the Manhattan skyline for the first time."

"I've seen the Manhattan skyline," Jim scoffed.

"In person?"

"In ... many movies and photos."

"C'mon, I want to guide you to the very best spot," Pam said.

"Fine," Jim said with an exaggerated sigh, covering his eyes with one hand, smiling as Pam took his other. They passed through the door, the breeze making Jim shudder a bit. He was very good and didn't even peek as Pam guided him. She stopped and turned him by the shoulders.

"Okay," she started, "go ahead and - oh, no wait!" She took his hand again and he laughed as she led him around a corner. "Careful, we're going up some stairs."

"Where the heck are you taking me?" Jim said, feeling out the stairs with his feet.

She giggled, "It's gonna be great I promise."

He only stumbled once as they climbed the stairs, and walked a few more feet before Pam stopped him. "Okay," she said, "now open your eyes."

"Are you sure, isn't there a lightening rod you want to shimmy up first?" Jim joked.

She laughed, "No, I'm sure, this is the spot."

Jim lowered his hand and opened his eyes, smiling as he saw Pam had guided him to the upper level, with a perfect unobstructed view of the Empire State Building and the southern end of Manhattan. The sun was setting, making brilliant purple and pink lines across the horizon. "Alright, Beesly, letting you blindly drag me up here was definitely worth it."

She beamed at him and then turned to skyline. They walked around the entire upper deck, slipping quarters into the viewfinders, watching the sky grow dark and the lights grower brighter and more numerous.

"So where's your apartment from here?" Jim said when they returned to the southern side of the deck.

Pam looked to the south east. "I think that's the Williamsburg bridge right there," she said, pointing to a horizontal line of lights over the river. "That's the trendy area, I live way past that." She turned her head to the right, "Which way do you think Scranton is?"

"You don't see it?" Jim teased. He put one arm around Pam's shoulder then pointed west with the other, "It's that boring little town over there on that hill."

Pam squinted, pretending to be searching, "Oh yeah, I see it. Yeah, there's not much going on over there." She leaned slightly, her side pressed into Jim's, and rested her head on his shoulder. "It's not too bad there, really," she said quietly.

Jim looked down, watching the golden-brown curls waft around Pam's face. No, Scranton wasn't so bad, though he could think of one way it could be a little bit better. "So, being up here makes me think of that one night we stayed late at work and you found Michael's screenplay."

"Oh my God, I was just telling Karen about Agent Scarn," Pam said with a laugh, lifting her head to face him. "And then you made grilled cheese in the toaster oven and bragged about how it was your famous grilled cheese but it wasn't really that good."

"And the truth comes out!" Jim said, feigning shock. "I seem to remember you saying you liked it."

"I was so hungry I didn't care," Pam said. "Besides, I was pretty thrilled to be on the roof alone with my crush."

"Your crush, huh?" Jim watched her cheeks grow red and he smiled.

"I wasn't lying about the song though, I did like that song," Pam said, ignoring his previous comment. She blushed again, "Though probably mostly because we were sharing earbuds."

"Yeah, we were kind of like this," Jim said, stepping in front of Pam. He started in a low tone, "I remember being nervous and pretending I didn't understand why." He looked to Pam's wide green eyes, "but I knew it was because I was standing so close to you."

Pam's breath quickened but her eyes stayed on his as he started to lean into her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to him until their lips finally met. He felt her hands travel to the sides of his neck, smiling against her lips as she started to run her fingers through his hair.

Her lips broke away from his and her fingertips trailed his jawline before she put her hands on his shoulders. He lifted a hand to push a curl back behind her ear, then his eyes met hers and his eyebrows lifted in worry as he saw her eyes were red and shiny. "Hey, are you okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah." She smiled and giggled softly, "I'm okay."

Jim smiled and kissed her forehead, and she rested her head on his chest. He placed his hand on her soft curls, and they stood silently, feeling each other breath in and out. He wasn't quite able to put into words what he felt, but he knew it was better than okay.

Pam couldn't help but have a surreal feeling about tonight, it was a little like one of those silly romantic-comedies she used to watch with Kelly, only this was really happening. Here she was, on a date with the man she had had such a hopeless crush on for years, who she was convinced would never see her as more than a friend, who just three months ago was about to get someone else's gold band slipped onto his left ring finger. Now they're suddenly doing things like flirting in front of Van Gogh at MoMA, kissing at the top of a Manhattan skyscraper, holding hands while strolling down 5th Avenue.

After a few blocks of admiring the elaborate window decorations of the swanky department stores neither of them had any hope of shopping at, they reached an intersection and Jim glance down the road, "So, we're kind of nearing my hotel..."

"You already running out of steam, Halpert?" Pam teased.

He smiled, "No, but the Top of the Rock was kind of my big grand finale, I didn't really come up with a plan for after that."

"Well, I'm sure we can find some kind of bar with overpriced cocktails," Pam swiveled her head, "I couldn't tell you where, I'm not too familiar with this area."

"The bar at my hotel actually looked pretty nice, and will definitely fit the overpriced part of that order," Jim suggested.

Pam bit her lip, thinking back to Karen's "advice" about making sure Jim booked a nice hotel room, before pushing those remarks to the back of her mind and nodding. Still hand-in-hand, they turned, a bright "Hotel" marquee just ahead of them.

They stepped onto the elevator and Jim hit the 'Restaurant/Bar' button. "More elevator time," he said with a smirk.

Pam chuckled, then grimaced slightly when she blinked. "Hey, my contacts are kind of killing me, you think we can stop by your room real quick?" In between blinks she saw Jim reach over to press a new floor button.

"I didn't know you wore contacts," Jim said, the elevator coming to a stop at his floor.

"Yeah, I don't think the big city air does me any favors, they sometimes get really dry by the end of the day," Pam said, trying to resist rubbing her eyes as they walked down the hallway.

Jim swiped his key card and opened the door for Pam, who only caught a brief glance of the small but well-decorated room before rushing into the bathroom, quickly unloading her contact solutions out of her purse. Just as she was cleaning her second lens, she heard Jim outside the door.

"So I found a menu for the bar and overpriced is definitely the word," Jim called. "They want six bucks for sparkling water, can you believe that, Beesly?"

"Unfortunately I can," Pam called back. After screwing the caps onto her contacts case, she looked at herself in the mirror, her reflection now a bit fuzzy. The surreal, movie-like feeling returned, her standing in a nice Manhattan hotel room, Jim just on the other side of the door, a bed just ten feet from both of them...

"Believe it or not the beers in the mini-bar are cheaper," Jim said. "So, I mean, that's an option."

Pam glanced in the mirror once again before opening the door. Jim, or rather the collections of blurry shapes that formed Jim, turned towards her. It was only when she was a couple feet away that she could see his smile, "Hey, I thought-" She stood on her toes, placed her hands on his neck and his sentence was cut off by her lips on his. His arms wrapped around her middle and they kissed for what felt like minutes before Pam drew her head back, her fingers still in his hair.

"I knew you didn't actually need to take out your contacts." Jim said with a smirk. "I'm still not convinced you wear them."

Pam laughed, "No, I really did take them out, I just ... I've wanted to do that for a long time."

He knitted his brows, "Do what?"

"Just walk into a room and kiss you," Pam said, feeling her cheeks get hot.

Jim smiled, tilting his head and leaning down. "So..." he started when his lips left hers, "you still wanna go upstairs?"

Pam twisted her mouth to the side, "Well, the mini-bar is right here. Plus I'd have to put on my glasses and they are definitely not stylish Manhattanite glasses."

"I'm sure you look plenty cute in them," Jim said, grinning at her blushing cheeks. He gave her a peck on the lips before letting her go, leaning down to the mini-fridge and coming up with two bottles. He popped the caps off and handed a bottle to Pam. "What should we toast to?"

She pondered the question for a moment before lifting her bottle, "To Dunder Mifflin."

"What? No way," Jim said, shaking his head.

"Why not? We work there, the money for tonight technically came from there, and, you know, we met there and became friends there." Pam said, shrugging.

Jim looked off to the side for a moment, thinking about what Pam had just said. "I suppose you're right. Though if I hadn't been dragged to that meeting last week by Michael we wouldn't have seen each other, so maybe we should toast him."

"Let's not get carried away," Pam replied quickly, trying to not smile at Jim's impish grin.

Jim chuckled, "Okay, fine, to Dunder Mifflin."

"To Dunder Mifflin," Pam said, her bottle clanging with Jim's.

Pam woke to the sound of a faucet running and opened her eyes, needing a second to remember where she was. The mattress dipped a little behind her before she looked up and saw slightly blurry face. "Hey," Jim said, his voice a little husky.

"Hey," she replied, smiling as he kissed her shoulder. She squinted at the alarm clock, just making out '10:30' in big red letters. "Oh, wow, you probably have to check out soon," Pam said.

"Nope, booked the room for two nights," Jim said, pulling the covers over his legs.

"Why did you do that?" Pam said, flipping over to face him.

"I figured worst case scenario our date goes badly and I'd just explore the city on my own for a couple days," Jim said.

"And what was the best case scenario?"

Jim smiled broadly, "This, definitely."

Pam felt her cheeks warm and Jim put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him until her head was resting on his shoulder. Under the sheets her bare legs brushed his and she blushed even more, remembering last night. After two mini-bar beers each and an hour or so of conversation, they found themselves sitting on the bed, his fingers buried in her curls, holding her face close to his before then traveling down, over her shoulders, along her arms, and then on her waist. He tugged a little at the hem of her shirt, his lips finally breaking away, his eyes asking if they should continue. Even with two beers in her she was nervous, worrying she wasn't going to be very good at all this, boyfriends had been rather few and far between the last several years so she wasn't exactly well practiced. But she took a deep breath and crossed her arms, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling up, catching a smile on his face before he tugged the collar of his shirt over his head.

The shirts barely reached the floor before his lips were once again on hers, his long arms wrapping around her. He began to lean forward and she let out a soft hum as the bare skin of her back touched the cool cotton comforter, followed by a whimper as her head hit the headboard. His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead, and he alternated between "I'm so sorry!" and "Are you okay?" several times but she laughed and pulled his face back to hers. Somehow the bump she felt forming on the back of her head was just what she needed; the odd, movie-like feeling that had been lingering for the entire date finally fading away. He wasn't some impossibly handsome and perfect leading man, he was just Jim, lanky, sweet, goofy Jim. And this wasn't some glossy romantic movie, it was just two shy, silly people who have liked each other for a long time finally becoming more than friends. 

"So, please don't be mad," Jim started, pulling Pam out of her daydream, "but I might have just checked out your glasses. And I still think you probably look cute in them."

Pam scoffed, "Trust me, I don't, they're so outdated."

"They're retro," Jim said shrugging.

"'Retro' is just design-speak for 'outdated'," Pam said, "plus they give me big cartoon eyes."

"I did notice they were rather thick," Jim admitted. "How bad is your vision, exactly?"

"Um," Pam held up her hand about a foot from her face. "Here my hand is in focus." She drew it another couple inches away, "And here it's starting to get fuzzy."

"Wow, so I'm probably just a big blur huh?"

Pam smiled and looked up, "From here you're like one of those super soft-focus photographs."

Jim sat forward a couple inches, "How about now?"

"Less fuzzy but still fuzzy"

He leaned further until the tip of his nose touched hers, his hazel eyes smiling, "How about now?"

Pam giggled, "Perfectly clear." Jim closed his eyes and gave her a couple soft, long kisses before leaning back against the headboard, and Pam set her head down on his chest.

"So," he started in a low tone, "if Scranton closes, I'm gonna try to transfer to Stamford."

Pam smiled, feeling her cheeks warm.

"I mean, yeah, my folks are there but aside from that I don't really have a reason to stay in Scranton." She felt him playing with a lock of her hair, "Plus I'm seeing this girl in the city so I'll be closer to her."

Pam lifted her head to face him, "Oh are you? One date and we're seeing each other now?"

"Well, yeah, unless there's someone else?" Jim said, his smile not quite cancelling out the worry in his eyes.

"It just so happens there is, I have five boyfriends, one in each borough." Pam said with a smirk.

Jim chuckled, "Guess I gotta just settle for being number six."

"You'd be okay with that?"

"Absolutely." Jim said, his fingers in her curls, pulling her face to his for another kiss.

Pam rested her head back on his shoulder, her cheeks about ready to burst from smiling. But she felt her smile fade as she remembered Karen saying that if Scranton closes only a few people from the whole branch would be transferred. Jim wasn't the top salesman, some quarters he was even behind Phyllis and Stanley due to them having larger, more established clients. There was no guarantee Jim would get a transfer offer, especially with the way Karen said Josh was running things at Stamford.

"What if a transfer doesn't work out?" she said quietly after a moment.

"I'm going to look for a job here anyway," he replied without hesitation.

"What if we don't..." Pam cast her eyes down.

"Hey," Jim titled her chin up, "I have a pretty good feeling about us."

Pam lifted her eyebrows slightly. "Really?"

He smiled softly and nodded, "Yeah."

"Me too," she said, her lips curling as she watched his warm hazel eyes once again come into focus.

It definitely wasn't the most ideal situation Jim had ever been in, starting a relationship that was immediately long distance, but he and Pam would text each other on their breaks, chat on the phone or computer most evenings, and try to meet somewhere halfway between them on Sundays. Sundays were definitely Jim's favorite day as they typically would try to find someplace quiet to park and eat lunch, chatting and laughing and holding hands until those hands were tangled in curls, reaching for buttons, slipping under shirts.

This weekend was going to be great though. It was Columbus Day, both Jim and Pam had Monday off and Pam's roommate was going to be out of town, so Jim was getting ready to venture to Brooklyn and see her proclaimed 'shoebox' in person. "Seriously, it's tiny," Pam reiterated last night on their weekly Friday Evening webchat. Jim asked if it was at least bigger than the backseat of his Corolla and grinned madly as he watched her cheeks turn bright crimson on the fuzzy video.

Jim zipped his duffle bag and headed down the stairs, greeted by the loud sound effects of a video game. In addition to finding himself in a long-distance relationship, he also had a roommate again as his friend Mark had broken up with his girlfriend and needed a place to live immediately. It was working out quite well, though, Jim had someone else to help take care of Casey, and Mark agreed to take over Jim's lease should Jim end up moving to Stamford.

Mark loved his video games, Jim had no idea when Mark slept because he was usually on the XBox or on his computer when Jim went to bed and somehow already (or maybe still) playing when Jim woke up.

"Wow, man, have you at least taken a break from fighting the Germans to have lunch?" Jim remarked as he came into the living room, finding Mark still in his pajamas and playing Call of Duty.

"I'm actually on the German team," Mark said, not so much as glancing over Jim.

Jim chuckled as he walked to the back door, calling Casey over so the golden retriever could run around outside. "So I should be back Monday evening sometime."

"Cool, don't worry, Casey and I won't miss you," Mark said, some kind of landmine going off in the game so loudly that Jim nearly flinched. "You know, you still haven't told me anything about this girl you run off to see every weekend."

"Oh, um," Jim had been a rather tight lipped with almost everyone about who he had been seeing. Part of it was the documentary crew; he trusted that Danny had kept their conversation a few weeks ago "off the record" but the rest of crew definitely suspected something was up and would occasionally ask prying questions. Thanks to that, Jim was in the habit of just not talking about his personal life at all with anyone. His own mother didn't even know he was seeing someone.

Jim decided this was a habit he needed to break, that he should be able to tell his friends and family about this woman who was so special to him, who he had only been dating for six weeks but was already factoring into all of his long-term plans.

"So, do you remember Pam? She came to some of my barbecues last summer."

"That girl you worked with, curly hair?" Mark asked, eyes still glued to the television screen. "It's a friend of hers?"

"Actually... it's her."

Mark managed to tear his eyes away long enough to give Jim a smirked and a nod, "Alright, she's cute, seemed pretty fun."

"Yeah, she is." It was all Jim could do to stop talking then, figuring the recently-dumped Mark didn't need to hear Jim gushing about how sweet and funny and creative Pam was.

"Wait a minute," Mark pause his game and looked to Jim with knitted brows, "you and her didn't have a thing, did you, when you were with Lisa?"

This was the other reason Jim had been reluctant to talk about Pam, he knew people were going to be suspicious of him now dating someone who he was such good friends with during his engagement. "No," Jim said, trying to put on his best 'don't-be-ridiculous' face.

"'Cause now I'm remembering you and her being pretty buddy-buddy at those barbecues," Mark continued.

"No, I mean, like you said, I thought she was fun and we were friends at work, but no, there was no thing." Don't forget that Lisa was the one who called off the wedding, he very nearly added, but he'd only be lying if he tried to deny Pam didn't played a major part in his break-up.

A scratch came from the door and Jim walked back to the kitchen to let Casey in, silently thanking the dog for giving him an out from the awkward conversation. Once Casey was inside, Jim said grabbed his bag and headed for the front door. "See you Monday, promise you'll leave the house at least once before I get back," he called to Mark.

"I promise nothing!" Mark said dramatically. "Say hi to your girlfriend for me."

"Bye," Jim said, not turning around for fear that Mark would see the giant smile on his face from hearing the word "girlfriend".

The word kept swirling in his head as he drove down the interstate, girlfriend, his girlfriend. Sweet, pretty Pam Beesly was his girlfriend and nothing made him happier. And nothing today could diminish that happiness, not the jerky New Jersey drivers, nor the horrendous New York traffic, nor the battle for a parking spot near her apartment building in Brooklyn. He pressed the buzzer to her apartment, a hour later than he wanted to, and all but ran up the stairs to her door.

Pam opened her door and greeted him, stepping aside to let him in. "Did you hit some traff-"

His bag landed with a soft thud and his lips were on hers, his arms around her waist lifting her off the floor. Somehow he kicked the door shut behind him and carried her not more than a couple steps before they reached a bed. He lay half on top of her, kissing her deeply and running his hand down her side to the curve of her hip.

"You didn't even let me give you the tour," Pam said softly when his lips finally left hers. Jim chuckled and looked at her, curls splayed out on the sheets, smile on her lips - which were red and slightly swollen from his kisses. He had thought from the moment he met her that she was pretty, only recently had he realized how beautiful she was, and that six days was far to long to go without seeing that smile or those eyes. "It's a quick tour," she added.

"Okay, only because it's quick," he replied, standing up then taking her hand to help her to her feet.

"Alright," she walked about five steps to a corner of the apartment with the refrigerator and stove, "here is the kitchen, or rather, the kitchen-like area." She turned to a bookshelf against the wall, "Our extensive library." Another three steps back to the bed they were just laying on, "Grace's bed, which can double as a couch but never does. And behind you is our luxurious bathroom."

Jim turned to see a standing screen, his eyes widening when he pushed it aside enough to see there was no actual door to the bathroom. "Was the door optional?"

"Doors only serve to cut off relationships, Jim," Pam replied, bringing her hands together to form an X. Jim chuckled and Pam took another couple steps past him to the small bed against the wall, "And here is my bed, plus I get a window with the beautiful view of a brick wall ten feet from me. And there you have it. Any questions?"

Jim put a hand to his chin and pretended to study the room. Pam certainly wasn't lying about the tininess of the place, but it had a bed, two beds actually, which was definitely a plus considering the past six weeks of meeting up at rest stops and diners somewhere in New Jersey. "Just one," he said, turning back to her bed, "can this bed support the weight of two people?"

Pam rubbed her cheeks, unsuccessfully masking their redness, "I suppose it hasn't really been tested."

Jim smirked and lay down on mattress, his feet dangling off the end giving flashbacks of his college dorm room days. He patted the space next to him and Pam smiled and lay down. It was snug, but they did both fit laying side by side. "Okay, test one successful, two adults can lay perfectly still on this mattress," Jim said.

"It would appear so," Pam replied.

"So onto test number two, which is," Jim propped himself up on his right elbow, his eyes meeting Pam's while the fingers of his left hand played with the hem of her shirt, occasionally skimming over the button of her jeans, "how does it handle motion?"

One thing about the useless window next to Pam's bed was it was just the right angle for the sun to pour in in the mornings. Usually it only annoyed her, overheating her and making her wake up far earlier than she wanted to on her rare days off, but today it was inspiring her. Or rather, the way the light was hitting Jim's sleeping figure was inspiring her. She sat cross-legged on Grace's bed, holding her pencil loosely as she sketched and shaded Jim's dark mop of hair, then his broad shoulders, then the sheets low on his bare chest and finally the long leg that was peeking out from under the covers.

These six weeks had been both wonderful and difficult. Sunday's were fun, they'd meet somewhere along Interstate 80, try to find some park to eat lunch at, then make-out in the backseat like a pair of teenagers. By Wednesday it always felt like it was fading away, like their relationship was all just some vivid dream. When they chatted on Fridays, Jim would start to say "So this weekend..." and Pam would always hold her breath, ready for him to say he can't make it, that this back-and-forth was not worth it anymore. He never said any such thing, but it didn't make that fear really ever go away.

Thanks goodness for Grace being out of town, giving them a chance for the first time to just be together, to order in pizza and sleep in late and kiss someplace that wasn't a car or a park or a hotel.

A rattle came from the nightstand between her and Grace's beds and Pam saw her phone lighting up. She snatched it from the small table before it could make anymore more noise, eyebrows knitting when she saw "Karen" on the display. She swung her legs around so she that she was sitting on the edge of Grace's bed, her back to the still-sleeping Jim, and answered quietly.

"Hey, sorry for the random Sunday Morning call, I needed to escape, my parents and grandmother have descended upon me this weekend, I just got dragged to mass," Karen said in an exhausted tone.

"I take it you're not a regular church goer," Pam said.

"I only go to appease my elderly Italian grandmother so no, I do not frequently attend mass," Karen replied. Pam laughed quietly. "Are we being quiet for reason?" Karen said in a stage whisper.

"Oh, um," Pam felt her cheeks burn as she glanced back to her bed, Jim still snoozing away, "Jim's here."

"Oh! So I'm going to guess you had more to repent for than I did today," Karen teased.

"Shut up," Pam said in a quiet giggle.

"Actually that's part of the reason I called, I keep forgetting to tell you I was in a meeting with Wallace on Friday and your man's name came up."

Pam sat up a little straighter, "What did he say?"

"Well, like you and I have suspected for a while, they've all-but-decided they're keeping Stamford, but David mentioned how impressed he was with Jim from the Scranton branch, said he thinks Jim has leadership potential."

"So, he'll for sure getting a transfer offer." Pam said, the smile creeping across her face.

"Yeah, for sure, and probably a promotion and a raise to go with it," Karen said. Pam knew she was now full-on grinning. "Now you know this is unofficial and it didn't come from me."

"I know, I know," Pam said, though the grin remained plastered on her face, "It's just . . . thank you Karen, that's really good news. Unofficial news, of course."

Karen chuckled, "Alright, I'll let you go, see you this week."

Pam closed her phone, and turned back around to Jim, just starting to open his eyes and stretch his arms over his head. She knelt on the floor so her face would be near his, and when his eyes focused on her, he gave her a goofy grin, "Hey."

"Hey," she said, smiling at him for a minute before leaning over to kiss him.

When their lips parted he looked to her alarm clock on the night stand. "Yikes, it's this late already?" he said, sitting up.

"I figured I'd let you sleep," Pam got to her feet and walked to the kitchen corner. She glanced back to Jim, quickly looking away when she saw him standing in just his boxers (a silly residual habit from the years of being so careful to never look at him too long, she was determined to break this habit soon).

"Let me sleep and draw me like one of your French girls, huh?" Jim said.

Pam jerked her head back to him, seeing him looking at her sketchbook laying open on Grace's bed as he pulled a tee-shirt over his head. "The light was really good," she replied, knowing she was blushing madly.

"Oh of course, the light," Jim playfully mocked, walking over and putting his hands on her waist.

"So what do you want to do today?" Pam said when his lips left hers.

"Um, well, we should have some breakfast or brunch or something, and after that, I was kinda thinking we could take a little drive and check some place out."

"What place?"

"Maybe..." he tilted his head, "Stamford, Connecticut?"

Pam narrowed her eyes, "Were you fake-sleeping so you could eavesdrop on me?"

"Absolutely not, I simply overheard you talking about me behind my back," Jim said in a faux-serious tone.

"How do you know we were even talking about you?" Pam countered.

"I always know when you're talking about me," Jim said with a smirk. "So what else did Karen say?"

"Can't tell you, top secret corporate business," Pam wiggled out of his arms to look in the refrigerator for breakfast ingredients.

"Aw c'mon, I know she said something else."

"Sorry Halpert, I'm bound to confidentiality," Pam said, laughing at the sight of six-foot-something Jim, standing in what were basically his pajamas and pouting like a little kid. She set the milk and a carton of eggs on the one tiny square of counter-space and turned to him. "Fine, I'll give you one hint. Let's just say you should be able to afford a place bigger than this if and when you go to Stamford."

"Well yeah, I mean, I kinda plan on having a roommate when I move there to split the rent with," Jim said, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a half-grin.

Pam's eyes widened, they hadn't really discussed any kind of living situation when he moved to Stamford or when she was done with her internship, but she supposed it made sense to move in together, Stamford was less than an hour from the city, and it would surely be a lot cheaper.

Jim's brows met, "You think Andy will agree to be my roommate, don't you?"

Pam's jaw dropped and she gave Jim and couple smacks to his chest. "Oh you wanna live with Andy, huh?" Jim quickly smothered her in a big bear hug, and she giggled as he nipped at her earlobe and started to walk her backwards.

One thing about Pam's far-too-small Brooklyn studio apartment: she was never more than few steps from a bed, something she was grateful for this weekend.

It was a little surprising to Pam that the nerves didn't set in until she turned onto I-380 and saw the "Scranton: 40mi" sign. She learned only yesterday that Jan wanted her to be at the Scranton Branch on Monday, and rather than tell Jim, Pam decided it'd be more fun to come to Scranton straight after her internship and spend Saturday evening and all of Sunday together. Even though Mark was likely there (and according to everything Jim had said about him, likely still in his pajamas), the thought of getting to spend most of the weekend with her boyfriend at his home was very exciting.

Her cell phone sat in the console, and she debated over and over if she should call and give Jim a heads up or if she wanted to truly surprise him by showing up at his door. She finally settled on the latter option.

On the passenger's seat was a box of random things that were taking up space at her work desk and in her shoebox apartment, so she thought she'd store it temporarily at her parents' house. Several souvenirs from Italy, some clothes she wasn't going to wear during the New York Autumn, and random papers filled the box, and on top of everything was a greeting card envelope marked "Jim".

"Can you tell us about your Secret Santa gift, Pam?"

It had been six months since the documentary crew arrived at the Scranton Branch of Dunder Mifflin and in many ways Pam was still uncomfortable around them. She was better than when they first started, when she felt like she couldn't turn a corner without seeing the gleam of a lens, couldn't speak without noticing them turn their attention to her, ready to capture her every word. 

She knew they were well aware of her crush on Jim. From the very first day when they got her to blush by saying Jim had told them her favorite yogurt flavor, she felt the camera on her whenever she laughed at his jokes, walked over to his desk, sat next to him in the conference room.

But there were now at least moments that she was mostly unaware of their presence, and they discovered quickly she clammed up when they asked her about Jim so there were few direct questions. Still, she wasn't ready for this impromptu "talking head" (as she had hear them once refer to it as) while she put together her Secret Santa gift in the breakroom.

"I got Jim's name this year, and he likes my drawings so I drew him this." She unrolled the paper and held up a watercolor, "It's everyone in the office, but there's a second part." Pam opened up a paper tube marked "Top Secret, open when alone" and pulled out a second roll, this one on transparent paper. "I drew a quicksand pit on this acetate and so when you put it over the drawing, you can see how deep everyone is in. It's um, it's kind of an inside joke," Pam added as Jason the cameraman knitted his brows.

"Did you make the card as well?" Brian the sound guy asked, nodding towards the envelope marked "Jim" on the table.

"No, that's just store-bought," Pam said flatly, grabbing the card after she put the transparent drawing back in it's "top secret" tube, curling the envelope until she could slip the card in the tube also. It was true, the envelope contained a store bought card with a printed Christmas scene on the front. It also contained a handwritten message, one she must have written twenty drafts of before finally settling on this arrangement of words. Words describing how much Jim meant to her, how his jokes made this place bearable, how his reactions to her drawings encouraged her, how his smile was the best part of her day.

She looked up to find the camera still firmly on her, and knew Jason was picking up on her nervousness. She fumbled a little as she wrapped up her gift (thankfully gift-wrapping tubes was more-or-less foolproof) then lamely excused herself to put her gift with the others under the Christmas tree near the conference room.

When the moment came for Jim to unwrap his present, Pam got the reaction she was wanting: Jim's eyes became big and he exclaimed "Wow" as he turned the drawing around to show everyone.

"Ah well, good to see someone got a nice homemade gift," Michael chimed in, still bitter over his Secret Santa gift of a knitted oven mitt.

The rest of the office quickly started to berate Michael for being rude about Phyllis' gift and for not following the $20 limit rule with his expensive video iPod for Ryan. Once Michael let it slip that he got a $3000 bonus, the Secret Santa exchange was more or less over and everyone started to slink back to their desks.

"Pam, why aren't the Christmas cookies out?" Angela said, storming out of the conference room. "I gave you the simplest task I could but I guess…"

"I'll get them Angela," Pam snapped back, one eye on Jim, who was walking over with his gift in hand but turned away before he got caught in Angela's crossfire.

Once Pam had the cookies set up to Angela's satisfaction, Michael waltzed in with several large bottles of vodka. Music started playing from some speakers in the accountants' corner and small paper cups with vodka shots in them were being passed around. Pam cut herself off after one, not eager to have a repeat of that September's Dundies award where she got so drunk she was falling off of chairs. Besides, watching everyone else get sloshed was almost as enjoyable.

She was in the breakroom getting some water when the door opened. "Beeeeesly," Jim drew out her name in a low husky voice, and she felt her cheeks warm she imagined him using that tone of voice in other, non-work situations. "I have a problem." 

Pam looked up to Jim, who had definitely not cut himself off after one Dixie cup shot and was standing a little wobbly and a little too close to her. The paper tubes containing her gifts were in his hand. "What would that be, Halpert?" she said in the steadiest voice she could manage.

"This tube here says, 'Top Secret, open when alone', but I'm not alone and I want to open it now. It not - it's not funny," he said, smiling at her giggling. He looked over his shoulder to the main room, then turned back and eyed the opposite door to the annex. "Hey, let's..."

He took her hand and Pam was sure she forgot to breath for a moment as he lead her past the break room, through the back door of the office, finally to a rarely used hallway bench. They plopped down and once their laughter subsided it was very quiet.

"This Christmas gift is amazing, Pam," Jim said, pulling and unfurling her drawing from the first tube. "How long did this take?" 

"Oh, not long, I mean, I've been working on it for a couple weeks."

"A couple weeks? That's just - you know how long it took me to get Stanley's gift? Like 30 seconds because I was at the bookstore anyway and saw a crossword puzzle anthology and said, 'Bingo!'"

Pam giggled again at his "Bingo" and him slurring "puzzle anthology" into something along the lines of "puzzintholgy". He asked was what funny and she smiled, "You being drunk is what's funny."

"I'm not that drunk," Jim said. Pam arched an eyebrow and he laughed, "Okay, I'm pretty drunk, but not nearly as drunk as you at the Dundies."

"Oh, God, I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"No, it wasn't bad, it was fun, you're a cute drunk," Jim said, grin on his face, and Pam had to turn away lest he saw her crimson-colored cheeks. "So, do you think we're alone enough I can open this other tube?"

Pam smiled and shrugged, and Jim started picking off the tape at the end of the tube, then her eyes widened. "Hey you know what, it's a little fragile so why don't I do it?" 

Jim clearly didn't think anything of her request and nodded, handing her the tube. Pam held it upright, gripped the plastic cap, and yanked it off, setting it flying across the hallway. Had Jim been any less drunk he would have noticed Pam's exaggerated stunt but he simply stood and took a step forward to retrieve the white cap, giving Pam just enough time to pull out an envelope, and slip it up under the back of her shirt and down into the waistband her pencil skirt.

"Wow, leaning over was definitely a mistake," Jim said when he returned to the bench, putting a hand to his head to apparently stop the spinning.

Pam smiled and pulled the second drawing from the tube and motioned to the rolled up drawing next to Jim's thigh. "Unroll the drawing." Jim complied and Pam unfurled the acetate, setting it over the first paper of the office.

His brows met and he looked at the drawing with the overlay, confused as to what he was suppose to see. Pam pointed to a sign she drew in the back saying "Warning: Quicksand!" and smiled as the realization washed over Jim's face. "Oh, is this . . . that thing we were talking about this summer? The Dunder Mifflin Quagmire?" 

Pam nodded and Jim burst out laughing.

"Oh my God, this is hilarious. Look at Michael," Jim pointed the head of Michael peaking just above the quicksand surface. "And Stanley, still doing crosswords 'til the bitter end." He eyes fell one side of the drawing. "I see we're both roughly about waist deep," Jim said, pointing to the caricatures of himself and Pam. "Though I have been here longer." 

"Well you know, we're in this together," Pam said.

Jim grinned and he reached over to give her hand a squeeze. His large warm hand stayed on hers and Pam felt her cheeks burn yet again, then lifted her hand to point to the drawing.

"Note the defiant Schrute fist," she said.

Jim chuckled and leaned back, resting his head against the wall. "I can say for certain this will be the highlight of Christmas this year," he half-smiled for a moment before he cast his eyes down.

"I'm sure you and Lisa will have a nice Christmas together," Pam said reluctantly.

"Yeah, until we drive to her folks in Wilkes-Barre and I get an earful," Jim said under his breath. He looked at Pam's worried face and then shook his head, "Thanksgiving with her family was a lot of 'When's the wedding?', 'If you're gonna do summer, you should start planning now,' and 'You don't want a long engagement,' type comments and it's just…."

Pam was quiet for a moment, looking at a scuff on the floor and trying to determine how to respond. "What did Lisa say about it." It was safe, neutral, which was always how she tried to be when faced with Jim's relationship issues.

"She didn't say anything because I think she wants me to set the date, probably some test to get me to be more decisive or something," Jim said, his voice laced with irritation. His eyes met Pam's and the hallway was eerily quiet again for several moments before he smiled, "You know what, you are too sober, I think we need to level the playing field." He stood carefully and reached out his hand.

Pam wanted to protest but she had always been powerless against that impish grin and those sparkling eyes so she put her hand in his and he helped her up. They returned to the back door and when they reached the kitchen they could see the party going strong in main room.

"Michael!" Jim shouted through kitchen door, "We need more shots back here."

Michael made a beeline with a vodka jug in one hand and some shot glasses of unknown origin in the other.

"Beesly is almost sober so she needs two very full shots," Jim said.

"Two shots for the lady," Michael proclaimed, impressing Pam with his steadiness as he poured vodka from the gigantic bottle to the tiny glasses.

The shots had their desired effect quickly, Pam felt giddy and warm, quickly joining Meredith and Phyllis dancing in the middle of the room and mostly ignoring the cameras in the corner and Angela's scowling glances from the conference room. During one dance move, a corner of the envelope in her waistband dug into her skin and Pam excused herself to her desk, removing the card and slipping it into a drawer. She look up and saw the cameras just past the copier and sighed, unsure if it was worst that she lost her nerve or that the crew knew it. 

"You're not working, are you?" Jim leaned on his arms at his usual spot at her desk. "If so we need more shots." 

Pam laughed and walked to the other side of the desk to where Jim stood. She grabbed a candy from a disc by the "Reception" sign and Kevin wandered by. He looked to the ceiling then to her and Jim and gave them a chuckle before walking off.

Pam watched him with knitted brows until Jim softly said, "Huh, look at that." She turned to find him looking up at a sprig of mistletoe hanging above them.

"Wow, that was definitely not there an hour ago," Pam said. She looked to Jim, who was giving her a half-grin, and she felt a flutter in her stomach. "I don't think anything happens if you ignore mistletoe, right? Like seven years bad luck?" 

"We'll make a new tradition," Jim turned to face her and opened up his arms, "friendly mistletoe hug." Pam giggle and Jim moved in closer, "C'mon, you know you want to."

Pam raised her arms and smiled as Jim wrapped his arms around her middle, giving her a big drunken bear hug. He squeezed her tight and lifted her off the ground briefly and she let out a very high-pitched laughed that she knew immediately drew everyone's attention. But Jim didn't seem to care, just laughed as he set her down and took a step back. He looked to the door and the smile faded from his face a bit. Pam turned and saw Lisa, eyes a bit wide and lips screwed up to the side.

"So much for the boring office party, huh?" Lisa said in a sarcastically cheery tone.

Pam looked back to Jim, who was scratching the back of his neck and looking to the floor.

"You didn't have to lie, if you don't want me to come just say it," Lisa continued, her tone now more upset. 

"It really was just a boring party when I text you back earlier," Jim said. Pam stood frozen between the two, not wanting to make any sort of move.

"Oh, good, you're drunk too!" She turned on her heels and walked to the front door.

"Lisa!" Jim pushed passed Pam to follow Lisa into the hall, and Pam turned to see most of her co-workers had their attention aimed towards the reception desk.

"Lampshade on the head! It's happening!" Michael came stumbling out of his office, and Pam had never been more grateful for her boss's constant need for attention as everyone instantly turned to him and started laughing and whooping it up.

Not wanting to appear like she was watching Jim and Lisa argue just on the other side of the door, Pam walked into the conference room for cookies and some punch. That also turned out to be a mistake as the cameras accosted her to ask how she was enjoying the Christmas Party. 

"It's actually been pretty fun, everyone seems pretty happy, but that's probably just the vodka, and my christmas gift went over pretty well." She nodded but Jason and Brian just stared at her, and she knew they weren't going to let her get away without addressing the card. "I, um, I realized that I mixed up my cards, I'm pretty sure Jim's card is in an envelope with my Aunt Sue's name on at home so I'll have to get it to him later." There was no way they bought her story but she didn't much care, and took her punch glass and cookies and left the conference room before they could ask anything else.

Kelly was at the candy dish at reception, giving Pam a good excuse to hang out there and keep at eye on the door, where Lisa and Jim were no longer in view. Jim returned by himself a few moments later and gave Pam a small smile before walking to his desk to get his coat and messenger bag.

"You're leaving?" Kelly exclaimed as Jim started to head for the door.

"Yeah, my ride home is here, and will hopefully still be here by the time I get downstairs," Jim said, his eye on Pam.

Kelly wished Jim a Merry Christmas, then stepped forward and gave him a hug, squeezing all the breath out of him. He looked to Pam and gave her an exhausted grinn, "Thanks so much for the gift again, it's … it's really great." 

Pam nodded and he set off, the camera crew close behind and catching him for a "talking head" just outside the door. At one point he glanced over to her through the blinds, and Pam quickly turned her attention to her shoes.

Kevin walked by again and stopped, looking to the ceiling then to Pam and Kelly standing there. "Nice," he said with a sly smile and Kelly, seeing the mistletoe, started calling him a "creep" and a "perv" and stormed off. Alone at her desk, Pam took one more glance to the front door and saw Jim was gone.

***

Pam didn't regret taking back the card that day, it was clearly not the right time, but the fact that she had managed to keep track of it after leaving Dunder Mifflin and basically moving twice felt like a sign that perhaps she should give it to him, maybe even this Christmas…

It turned out she had fretted about showing up at Jim's unannounced for nothing, Mark answered the door (and yes, was still in his flannel pajama bottoms at four p.m.) and told her Jim was at the mall shopping for work clothes. "You're free to hang out here until he gets back," Mark added.

Pam shook her head, "That's okay, I'm on my way to drop off some things at my parents', I'll catch up with him later."

After parking and taking the escalators to the upper level of the Steamtown Mall, Pam scanned the main atrium for Jim. She was ready to give it up and just try calling him when she saw the familiar lanky figure, a department store bag in his hand. Pam couldn't help grinning widely watching him walk, then drew in her breath as he slowed his stride then stopped to study the display at a jewelry store.

Pam reached for her phone and she told herself it was a lack of food making her fingers tremble and she typed out some quip about him looking good with a diamond stud earring. She quickly erased that at settled on, "Hey there, Mallrat" and pressed send.

She laughed as he pulled his phone out of his pockets, read the message and started looking around. Her smile faded when a woman with bouncy red hair ran up to Jim, throwing herself into his arms.

Jim Halpert had never been much of a planner. He was sure if he actually had a normal boss, his boss would say his biggest weakness was a tendency to wing things. Rather than plan out his sales calls meticulously like some of his cohorts, he would talk and see where things were going before deciding what products to push and how to do it.

Even proposing to Lisa had been unplanned. He knew it was going that direction and would have thoughts about maybe doing it on a romantic trip or at a nice restaurant. But the actual proposal was most-or-less a spur of the moment thing at a New Year's party, he didn't even have a ring yet.

Out of necessity, there was a lot of planning with Pam. Every meet-up with her had to be decided on days ahead of time, nearly every meal needed a reservation. Normally he would hate such a lack of spontaneity but he actually loved planning things with Pam, having something to look forward to every weekend. He was already thinking about Thanksgiving; they would be in Connecticut by then but would probably drive back to Scranton, they would have to decide if they would go to her parents or to his own. He was also already planning out his Christmas gift to her, gathering up the doodles and drawings she had put on sticky notes and passed to him in meetings over the years and making copies for a photo book.

Of course, he would also get her something nice and store-bought, he thought while carrying around new work shoes and slacks in the main atrium of the Steamtown Mall, maybe some art supplies or photo books about Italy. He passed the sparkling display of a jewelry store. Maybe he'd get her some jewelry, some earrings or a new goal charm or…

The display was full of engagement sets, from simple gold bands with a small solitaire to elaborate encrusted bands and giant, colored diamonds. He really didn't have any opinion about style or cut when he and Lisa bought her ring, simply wanting Lisa to choose what she liked. She went with three square stones, cut in a way that made them very eye catching and looked like way more diamond than it actually was.

He found himself thinking about what would suit Pam best, probably a round or oval stone with a silver band, maybe set surrounded by other stones. Only after a moment did it hit him that he was standing in the mall looking at engagement rings thinking about a girl who he had been dating for barely two months. He didn't even know if they were going to be any good at living together, definitely far too soon to think about proposing, right?

Strangely enough, the idea didn't scare him at all, he actually welcomed it.

A buzz came from his pocket and he awkwardly handed off his shopping bags to his left hand in order to reach his phone. He grinned the second he saw her name and flipped open to see the new message. "Hey there, Mallrat." Mallrat, huh, he thought while swiveling his head, is it possible Pam was here?

"Jim Halpert?!"

Jim barely turned around before a woman all but jumped into his arms, his vision obstructed by wave of amber colored hair. She stepped back and Jim felt a slight panic. "Katy!"

"Oh my gosh, I can't believe I ran into you, how are you?" Katy hands were resting on his forearms and he had no idea how to pull his arms away without it seeming abrupt and weird.

So he just nodded, "I'm fine, how about you, what are you up to these days?"

"I'm good, I work at the Macy's here, accessories department." She thankfully pulled her hands away to motion towards the giant red letters in the distance.

Jim cocked his head and gave her a grin, "Still in the purse game?" He knew immediately he was dangerously close to flirting.

Katy's big blue eyes gleamed and she laughed. "Ha, yes, and are you in the paper game still?"

"Unfortunately, same boss too."

Jim was sure Katy would make some sort of face or a comment about Michael and the uncomfortably and persistent way he had hit on Katy the day she came in to sell purses, but Katy was either too nice, or had blocked it from her memory, and moved on. "So I heard you were engaged or something?" she said.

It shouldn't have but for some reason that comment knocked Jim for a loop. It was a small town and they likely had friends-of-friends in common so he shouldn't have been surprised Katy heard somewhere he was going to get married. Still, he immediate looked to his shoes and felt very awkward. "Um, yes, that is true, I was engaged."

Katy knitted her brows at his tone and purposeful use of the past tense in his statement.

"We, um, broke it off, couple weeks before the wedding," Jim finished, trying to sound as emotionless as possible.

"Oh, no," Katy said softly.

"It was six months ago, and it's was mutual so..."

"Still, I'm so so sorry."

Her hand was back on his forearm again, and his brain screamed that now would be the time to mention he was dating someone. "Thanks, um, I'm actually..."

Katy's eyes darted to something to his right, and he took advantage of her distraction and turned his head, seeing Pam walking up slowly with a terribly unsure look on her face.

"Hey, there she is!" He lifted his arm and Pam smiled, walking a little more briskly. Soon she was by his side and Jim squeezed her shoulder, placing a kiss to her temple. "Katy, this is Pam."

Katy's eyes widened and her smile dropped briefly before she managed to paste it back on, "Hi Pam, I, um, I know Jim from a few years back."

"Katy came into Dunder Mifflin one day to sell purses, it went about as expected," Jim said.

Pam chuckled, "I can imagine. Nice to meet you, Katy. I'm kind of surprising Jim here, just came from New York City."

"New York City, oh, wow, I'd love to live there," Katy mused.

"It's an experience, I don't know though, I think I'm more of a small town girl," Pam replied, her arm snaking around Jim's waist and pulling him closer.

"Well...I should let you two go. It was good to see you, Jim," Katy said, backing away a bit.

"If I need a purse I let you know," Jim said before he could stop himself.

Katy giggled and gave them a wave before walking off.

Jim slowly turned to Pam, ready to find a scowl on her face from his sort-of-flirtatious remark. Lisa certainly would have made some passive aggressive comment about how 'flirting must be a sales technique'. But Pam just smiled politely if a little nervously and reached to straighten his coat lapel. "So, um, surprise," she said.

"Yes, surprise, how'd you know where I was?"

"Mark," she started. "I showed up at your place unannounced and he told me you were here."

"Cool, well, do you have any shopping or do you wanna grab dinner?"

"I, uh, I kinda was just hoping to hang at your place," Pam said, her cheeks growing pink.

"Yeah?" Jim said in a lower tone, wagging his brows at her, and smiling when she giggled.

"I know, not very New York of me, just wanting to say in," Pam replied.

Jim shrugged, "No, definitely more Scranton but that's not a bad thing at all." Pam look to him and shyly smiled, and Jim leaned in for a kiss, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth when he felt her hand reach up to cup his cheek. "Okay, back to the abode," Jim said and they walked hand in hand down the atrium.

*****

Jim spun around to find an ever-present camera pointed at his face, as it had been for months now.

"We just wanted to get a couple comments," the sound guy said.

Half of him wanted to say no and storm off, but wobbly as his feet felt from far too many vodka shots he knew he would just fall over and really give the cameras a show. Besides, all that waited downstairs was a pissed-off fiancee and more fighting so he stayed put.

"What did you think of the Christmas party?"

Jim forced a laugh, "Well started off terrible, been terrible the last five minutes, but the in-between was actually not too bad."

"Lisa seemed pretty upset," the cameraman said.

Jim stared at the camera with blurry eyes and gave a shrug, "Yeah, she did."

"Do you know why?"

There were plenty of reasons, Jim reckoned, starting with texting Lisa long before Michael showed up with a case of vodka that the party was boring as hell and most definitely not worth her time. And the fact that she absolutely hated it when he got drunk. There was also that hard to explain feeling of a fight being inevitable, the tension being high and unaddressed since Thanksgiving when it felt like her family grilled him for hours about the lack of a firm wedding plan and even a wedding date.

He turned his head and could see Pam through the office door, quickly covering up that she had been watching him. They were friends, she was his best friend in a lot of ways. She got him through the day handing him sticky notes with silly doodles and laughing at his lame jokes and giving him knowing looks during pointless conference room meetings. There were moments, though, when he was sure he caught her staring at him, when her cheeks blushed at his comments, when she gave him something like the handmade gift his hands, a drawing she spent hours on based on a joke that only they knew the significance of. And he would wonder briefly if there was something more, if it was all done out of something else besides friendship, if there was a part of him that actually wished it was done out of something else.

"I don't know," Jim replied to the question he had already forgotten. He excused himself and pushed past the camera crew to the elevator.

*****

Once they returned from the Steamtown mall to Jim's place, Mark was nice enough to actually put on something besides pajama pants and go hang out at a friend's. Jim and Pam whipped up some pasta and chicken and Pam couldn't help but log in her brain that this was the first home-made meal they had had together, complete with a begging dog that neither of them could resist giving a chunk of chicken to. They chatted and laughed, but the scene at the mall was still in the back of Pam's mind, a beautiful redhead throwing herself into Jim's arms. Not that she suspected Jim was up to anything, clearly him running into Katy was a complete coincidence, but Pam was curious what "knowing each other a few years back" meant exactly.

After dinner they sat on the couch, arms around each other searching for something to watch on television. Pam internally debated how jealous she would seem asking about Katy hours later before deciding if this long distance thing was going to work, they couldn't be keeping feelings or doubts from each other.

"So," Pam started, putting her chin on Jim's shoulder. "How did Katy's day of selling purses at Dunder Mifflin go?"

Jim's brows knitted slightly and he chuckled, "Well, first off, you know the company policy is no vendors but Michael made an exception for totally valid and not at all superficial reasons."

Pam giggled, "As all his decisions are."

"And all day he was hovering around the conference room where she was set up and he trying about every move in the Michael Scott playbook. And then Dwight threw his hat in the game, I may have convinced him mini briefcases were the latest business trend and got him to buy a purse."

"I am so sad I wasn't there for this," Pam said, already picturing Dwight confidently carrying a handbag.

"So she needed a ride home and also clearly wanted rescue from those two so I offered and we got a drink and…" Jim gave her a nervous half grin.

"And…. you hooked up?" Pam was surprised at the steadiness of her voice.

Jim's eyebrows shot up, "Well, um, I mean we dated for a few months also."

Pam smiled at his nervous bumbling, "It's fine, she's very pretty, and seems sweet, I definitely get it."

Jim's cheeks reddened a bit, "Yeah, those are the reasons I asked her out. And then it turned out we had absolutely nothing in common."

"So what happened?"

"Don't judge me but I went to a party with her where she was talking to her recently engaged friend and Katy gushed about how badly she wanted to be engaged and plan a wedding, and I guess 24-year-old-totally-terrified-of-real-commitment-me flipped out and told her on the car ride home I thought this was just casual and fun and we were definitely broken up by the time we got to her place."

Pam's eyes widened, "Wow."

"I said don't judge me."

"Are there any other disgruntled exes I should be worried about?"

Jim sat up and turned to Pam. "Are we really doing this?" Pam nodded, "Um, well I mean there's Lisa obviously, before her, Katy. Michelle was right after college, that didn't end badly it just fizzled out and she moved to Chicago. Uh, few college make-outs. Heather was the big one in college, she was my first real girlfriend, and first, you know." Jim blushed again, "I sure thought she was the one but what do you know when you're 19?"

Pam smiled, "You think you know everything, that's for sure."

"So, that's my sordid history, what about Pamela Morgan Beesly?"

Pam's jaw slacked a little, she should have suspected a rundown of Jim's love life would become a rundown of hers as well. "Um, well, warehouse Roy. Which you probably suspected."

Jim smiled slightly, "I had a hunch."

"And… do you remember Danny Cordray?"

"From Ospry?"

"Yeah, we went on a few dates."

Jim's brows lifted, "Wow, now I feel intimidated."

Pam smiled, "Why?"

"Danny Cordray is probably the most attractive man I've ever met." Jim thought for a moment, "Let me amend that, Danny Cordray is definitely the most attractive man I've ever actually physically met."

Pam giggled, "Yeah, he was hot, definitely a smooth talker."

"So what happened, why on earth are you with me and not Danny?" Jim joked.

Pam gave him a playful smack on the shoulder, "C'mon, a guy like that, always on and always seeming like he's selling you something? Girls don't want that, at least not me. Plus I think he thought I was huge dork."

"Well, you kinda are." Jim said with a grin. Pam nearly smacked his arm again but he grabbed her hand, "And he's an idiot for not thinking that's anything but adorable."

Pam gave him a wry smile, "That sounds like something Danny would say, but the difference is I know you mean it."

Jim leaned over to give her a kiss and sat back, "So, Roy, Danny, anyone else?"

Pam felt her smiled fade, "Um, well, in college there was Chris."

Jim's smiled also faded at her tone and he turned his full attention to Pam.

"I met him at a party my freshman year of college and I was so shy back then and he was nice to me and cute. All my friends thought I was pretty lucky to get a boyfriend like that. And it was a lot of fun for a bit, but then … it was all him, you know? We hung out with his friends, we went to places he wanted to go. I started really falling behind in my classes and he didn't seem to care, the less time I spend on assignments the more I spend with him. And besides, what was an art degree gonna get me anyway he'd say. Eventually I started feeling that like too. I just . . . I completely lost myself in that relationship for a while." Pam kept her eyes cast down, blinking back tears. She rarely discussed Chris with anyone. Even now, in the interest of not totally breaking down, she purposefully omitted the part about their breakup, when out of anger Chris told her she was mousy and worthless and she was so worn down a small part of her agreed. She'll tell Jim about all that someday, she thought, just … not today.

She felt a warmth enveloping her fingers and glanced over to see Jim had reached over, his large hand covering hers. "Hey," he said softly. Pam looked up to see his eyes filled with worry, "I will never make you feel like that."

"I know you won't." Pam wiped her eyes can and gave him a small smile, "That's a reason why I love you." Jim's eyes widened slightly and Pam felt her heart jump up her throat. She couldn't believe she said it out loud so easily. She looked down to her lap, shaking her head, "Wow, um..."

Jim's hands were quickly on either side of her face, gently turning her head back to him before he kissed her. His lips left hers after a moment and he smiled. He took a breath and opened his mouth.

"No, it's okay, don't feel like you have to . . . it just slipped out."

Jim smirked, "That's what she said."

"Oh my God," Pam said laughing.

Jim chuckled before lifting his hand to stroke her cheek, "And I love you Pam. I think … I think I've been falling in love with you for a long time."

Pam felt a sting behind her eyes again, but this time it was relief and happiness. Relief that she could finally say it out loud: she was madly in love with Jim Halpert. And happiness that all the things other men made her feel bad about, her dorkiness, her artsiness, her shyness, were all things he loved her for.

Soon her arms were around his neck, and his hands spanning her back. Almost in sync she leaned back as Jim tiled forward, her head soon resting on a couch pillow. And then Casey started to whine at the patio door.

Jim scoffed, "Such a mood killer." He kissed Pam one last time before getting up.

"So, um," she said lifting herself on her arms, "Maybe we should take this upstairs, in case Mark…"

"Probably a good idea," Jim replied from the back door.

"I'll, uh, see you up there?" Pam said, trying to sound seductive but probably just sounded nervous.

"Sure, it'll be just a minute," Jim said, following Casey out the door with a doggie bag.

"You're, uh, gonna wash your hands though, right?" Pam called to him.

Jim looked back and smirked, "Maybe, maybe not, I'll surprised ya." He winked and closed the door behind him.

Pam laughed and shook her head, and headed up the stairs to Jim's room.

For not expecting company, Jim's room was fairly tidy, bed made, only one stray sock on the floor. His desk was cluttered, though, notes and letters strewn about. Above his desk was an almost equally cluttered cork-board, greeting cards and ticket stubs haphazardly pinned up. On top of the miscellaneous papers was a snapshot taken during one of their midway meet-ups.

Pam was posed into front of a brown sign that read in plain white text "Land of Make Believe." They had agreed to meet in Hope, New Jersey because it was nearly halfway between them, and found little besides a pizzeria and this nondescript sign that made them both laugh hard and wonder how exciting this "Land of Make Believe" could possibly be. (Pam later googled it and saw it was a rather fun looking water park and now secretly wanted to go, and suspected Jim did as well)

"You're not snooping, are you?"

Pam spun her head to see Jim leaning against the door-frame and she gave a fake scoff, "I would never." She then motioned to the photo, "You printed this one off?"

"Yeah, it's one of the only photos I have of my girlfriend and I kinda love her so I wanted to put it up," Jim said with a smirk.

"You kinda love her?" Pam said, trying to match Jim's cool, flirty demeanor but internally freaking out at them so casually saying the word 'love'.

"Yeah, I kinda do, like, a lot." He stepped forward and place his hands on her hips. "And I kinda want to pick up where we left off downstairs."

Pam exhaled as Jim began kissing and nipping a little behind her ear. She knew he learned early on that that was guaranteed to turn her to putty. "I kinda want to do that too," Pam said in a breathy voice.

"Let's kinda do it, then," he said, and Pam laughed when he picked her up a little, walked three feet and all but dropped her on the bed.

"That was only kinda smooth, Halpert." Pam said, feigning irritation as he crawled up on the bed next to her then letting out a soft sigh when his lips returned to that spot on her neck.

"Admit it, you kinda love it," his husky voice tickled her ear.

She kinda actually really did.

With a box tucked under his arm and a grocery bag in his hand, Jim awkwardly rang the doorbell of the Wilkes-Barre home. This is not one of my better ideas, he thought, hearing foot steps coming to the door followed by the creaking of hinges.

"Hey, come in," Lisa said with a grin he struggled to match. "You can set all this down in the living room." He kept his eyes mostly on her bare feet as he followed her through the entry way.

Don't sit, he reminded himself, just set everything down, make a little chitchat then say you have to go. You have a ton of packing and other things to do.

"You want a drink?" Lisa called from the kitchen.

One drink can't hurt. Jim decided and he called back. "Sure." She walked over to him with two import beers in hand and motioned to a pair of stools by the kitchen island.

- - -

On Monday, Jan came in with Pam for what Jan politely referred to as "corporate assessments", but as soon as Jim walked into the conference room Jan shut the door right in the face of the camera crew following him and then made the purpose of her visit clear: Stamford was officially absorbing the Scranton branch and Jan was there to tell a select few that they were being offered transfers.

Jan began telling Jim in addition to a transfer he was going to be offered a promotion to assistant manager which meant a higher base salary and a higher commission rate. She went through the details until the sound of crying came from outside the door, where Michael had promptly spilled the beans about the branch closing and was now making high-pitched noises.

"Oh my God," Jan said under her breath before standing. "I'm sorry, Jim, I'll be back shortly."

The door latched behind Jan and Pam looked to Jim, a smirk on her lips and blush spreading over her cheeks, "Whatcha thinking about there, Beesly?" Jim asked in a low tone.

"Nothing just ..." her cheeks somehow grew more red, "Congratulations, Mr Assistant Manager."

"Yeah, not even a 'to the' in there," Jim said. He watched her with knitted brows while she scribbled a message on her notepad and handed it folded to him. Long as they were in the office things like this were kind of necessary. Even though there were no cameras in the room, they were still being watched and micced with zoom lenses and fancy microphones.

Jim unfolded the message and felt his own cheeks grow red at Pam's suggestion on how to celebrate.

"We could celebrate at lunch, don't you think?" Jim, surprised at the steadiness of his voice.

"If we take an extra long lunch."

That didn't turn out to be a problem. Jan rushed through the rest of her announcements and proclaimed well before noon that she and Pam were leaving, and the office was in enough chaos that it was easy for Jim to duck out early, picking up sandwiches and meeting Pam at his home.

After lunch and a couple "celebrations" up in his room, Pam reluctantly said she really needed to get on the road and back to New York. Jim just as reluctantly said he understood and watched her dress, though he did teasingly hold her shoe just out of her reach until she snatched it back.

He walked her to the front door and she turned and took his hand. "We only have to do this for a couple more weeks."

Jim smiled back, "I know, and then when we're finally in the same city you're gonna get sick of me."

"You're probably gonna get sick of me," she retorted with a smile, though it faded fast and Jim quickly tugged her arm and pulled her into an embrace.

"Never," he said in a low voice before kissing her.

He was certainly ready to head upstairs for another quick "celebration" and judging by her unsteady breathing and flushed cheeks when their lips parted she was about ready also, but she kept her composure and stepped out onto the porch.

"Just a couple more weeks," she said, halfway to her car.

Jim leaned against the door-frame and watched her with a smile until her car was out of view.

Jim used his free afternoon to start assessing what it would take to pack. Looking over his closet his eyes fell on a box he had been conveniently forgetting for the past few months, filled with CDs, random clothes and other knick-knacks.

Logging onto the Dunder Mifflin web portal, he sent an email from his work account, keeping it pretty distance in tone and asking where the best place to send a box of things to Lisa would be. She replied within 10 minutes that she's still around so no need to send, just drop it off sometime.

Jim put it off all week but Pam was planning to come back to Scranton on Saturday to help Jim with his packing and he wanted the box of Lisa's things to be gone by then. Thursday evening he finally text to ask if Friday afternoon would work and Lisa text back yes.

- - -

Lisa and Jim chatted for a good half-hour about what was going on. She told him all about her grad school visits and he talked about the merger and being sent to Connecticut, and soon a new beer was in his hand.

Their conversation grew sillier, her complaining about living at home again, him talking about the finer points of having Mark as a roommate. A buzz came from his back pocket and he looked to see it was work, more specifically it was Dwight's phone at work. Jim pressed the button to turn off the buzzing and tossed the phone onto the counter.

"Do you need to get that?" Lisa said.

"It's Dwight and if I answer he's probably going to try to convince me that he's fired me with his non-existent authority and I won't be going to Connecticut after all."

Lisa's eyes grew wide, "He's not going, is he?"

"And leave his beet farm? Nah, they only just upgraded from whale oil lamps last year. Maybe next year they're get a landline put in."

She started giggling, "But I though he was like a SyFy channel nut, surely he at least has cable."

"Nah, he uses rabbit ears, like on an actual rabbit," Jim smiled at Lisa laughing heartily, knowing she had to be quite buzzed to be so amused by such a dumb joke.

Suddenly there's a lull and Jim realized Lisa's stool had progressively gotten closer to his and she was looking at him with a smile and half-lidded eyes. Her smile faded and she leaned in, and while he was quite buzzed, he thankfully had the wherewithal to turn his face. Her lips hit his cheek for a second before she jerked back.

"Sorry," she whispered, scoffing to herself and looking at her beer bottle.

He chewed his lip, "Don't worry about it, please."

"I guess ... I didn't realize 'til now how much I've missed you." Her big blue eyes met his for a moment before growing shiny and she looked away. "But clearly it's not mutual-"

"I just," he took a breath and their eyes met again. "I'm ... seeing someone."

"Wow," her brows lifted and she put on a forced smile. "That's great, but isn't moving going to complicate things?"

Jim started tracing the counter-top with his finger, trying to decide how much to say, "She's actually already in the area so it should the too bad." 

That statement seemed to take Lisa aback more than him saying he was seeing someone, but she managed to keep the smile on. "Well, don't keep me in the dark here. Tell me about her, what's her name?"

"Um, well, is kind of funny. Remember when we last spoke and I told you I was going to Manhattan, and that Pam was at corporate."

"Yeah?"

"Well, we caught up and all and then we went out and-" Jim looked to see Lisa's eyes narrow and her smile fade some.

"Pam, you're - you're seeing Pam?"

Jim looked at his beer bottle, silently cursing the liquid inside for loosening his lips so much. "Yeah," he said in a quiet voice.

"I knew you had a thing for her," Lisa said with a small chuckle.

Jim let out a slight laugh of his own, "Yeah." He looked to Lisa with a smile, only to realized her chuckle was more a sarcastic scoff and her words were accusatory. "Wait, you mean before you and I broke..." Lisa pursed her lips and Jim started to shake his head, "No, no, it's not like that."

"Really? What was it then, Jim, when you came home every day and told me the funny thing Pam said with a big dumb grin on your face, or when you were drunk and hugging her at that Christmas party or when you watched her every second she was with that warehouse guy on that booze cruise?" If Lisa was buzzed she certainly wasn't acting like it, she glared right at Jim while sitting on the stool with one foot on the floor, ready to either storm out or maybe even lunge at him.

Jim shook his head, knowing there was no right answer to this. The fact of the matter was he developed feelings for a woman who wasn't his fiancee, he certainly didn't set out to, but it happened and this was the consequence.

His phone started buzzing again, and he wasn't able to grab it before she saw the name on he screen. He quickly silenced it and slipped it into his pocket.

"Why don't you get that?" Lisa said with a sneer, standing and walking with her beer to the living room.

Jim stood, taking a couple steps in Her direction. "Lisa, nothing was happening between Pam and me when you and I were together. I didn't even realized she liked me until she told me at that-" Jim managed to stop his mouth and took a small breath, "that meeting in New York."

Lisa spun turned on her heels to face him, "Wait, when did she actually tell you she liked you?"

Jim was about to play dumb, but knew Lisa had caught his hesitancy and wasn't about to let him off the hook. "I suppose ... she told me at that warehouse casino night."

A weird high pitched laugh came from Lisa and she shook her head, "I knew that too, I knew you were acting weird after that night."

"Yeah, well who's the one who actually called off the wedding?" Jim muttered.

"Oh okay, you got me there, Jim. Yeah I called off the wedding, it was all my fault. Certainly had nothing to do with the fact that I was freaking out and my fiance was mentally somewhere else, apparently daydreaming about the receptionist. Nothing to do with me spending our entire relationship waiting for you to be ready, to be ready to set a date, to ask me to marry you, move in with you, to even call me your girlfriend." Lisa's eyes became shiny and she motioned to nothing in particular, "And what, you're gonna move in with Pam when you go to Stamford? What's it been, two months?"

Jim looked to his shoes, wishing he had fibbed and said yes he did need to leave and take Pam's call. No, he couldn't stay for a beer. No, he couldn't stop by to drop off her things. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

After a moment, Lisa took a deep breath. "Thanks for dropping off my things, I wish you the best of luck," she said quickly.

Jim lifted his head to look at her, standing with her arms crossed, trying to wipe tears from her eyes discretely. After a moment, he started making his way to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned back to the living room. "You're right, I hesitated constantly with you, and I really am sorry. You deserve someone who you can be sure of, and you'll find that, I know it."

A half-smile crept onto Lisa's face and she nodded, "Thanks."

Jim was halfway out the door when Lisa called his name and he turned back. "Yeah?"

"I really do wish you all the best, in everything," Lisa said.

Jim gave a tilted smiled, "Thanks Lisa."

Once Jim was in his car and a couple blocks away, he pulled over and rested his head on the steering wheel. His phone buzzed again, and he smiled while pressing 'answer'. "Oh my God Beesly, you will not believe the afternoon I've had. We're gonna have several drinks when you get in tomorrow."

"Or we can start when I get to your place in an hour," Pam said quickly.

Jim felt his brows lift at her rushed, high tone. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears, "Wait, you're coming in tonight? What's wrong?"

"It's work, it was crazy and I hate to skip an internship day tomorrow but I ... I'd rather be there."

"Pam, what is it?"

"The merger, it's all screwed up now, and no one knows what happening and Jan lost her grip like three times today and I just ... I just want to be home. Not stupid Brooklyn, I mean like home."

Even though her voice was cracking and she seemed a moment away from sobbing, Jim couldn't help but smile a little at the fact that when Pam said "home" she meant with him. After all the confusion and mixed emotions of the last couple hours, his mind started to feel clear. "Okay, get yourself home then. Safely, don't rush. I'll see you soon."

"Okay," she already sounded much calmer, "Okay, see you soon."

Jim tapped his knee a couple times and took a breath. "I love you," he added.

He heard Pam take a shaky breath, this was after all the first time he had said that to her on the phone. And yes they had only been together for a couple months but there was nothing else he was more sure of than how he felt about Pam Beesly.

"I love you too," Pam finally said and Jim could hear the grin in her voice.