Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Jim had always secretly enjoyed putting her in situations which forced her to shed her tough, tomboyish exterior and just act like a girl. At work it often felt like she was just some drinking buddy of his who happened to come in a much more appealing package, and he liked being reminded that she was more than that... a real living, breathing, woman. It made him feel more like a man, as the noble chivalrous gentleman persona that he so aspired for didn't work so well when his lady didn't seem to need it. These reminders were infrequent but not exceedingly rare. She did wear a dress every once in a while and she looked great whenever she did. As the Spring weather had arrived, they had started taking morning walks together at the park, and it warmed Jim's heart seeing her melt whenever they saw a puppy. She also loved babies, although for some reason he didn't find this quite as cool.

He had planned on taking Karen to the beach one of these days, as it offered a great opportunity for him to get to glimpse the vulnerable side of his girlfriend that so moved him. She was a beautiful woman, but like many women approaching 30, she was very hard on herself, very conscious of her self-perceived flaws. Like Jim, she had gained a little weight since college, which is totally natural, but unlike Jim who simply ignored his hint of a beer gut, Karen fretted, paced in front of the mirror, and sporadically dieted and worked out. Spending a day with Jim in a swimsuit without her high heels would be good for her. She might start to believe him when he told her she was pretty just the way she was. More importantly, though, Karen was a terrible swimmer and afraid of the water. She even avoided baths in favor of showering, because the feeling of all that water touching her skin made her uneasy. He pictured the two if them chest-high water, her trying to cling to him as he lifted her body, forcing it horizontal on the water's surface... forcing her to swim... forcing her to trust him. Her vulnerability would indeed touch them both...

They had finally made it to the beach. It was nothing like Jim had imagined. First off, Dwight was there. So were the rest of his co-workers. Michael was subjecting them to a series of ill-thought out beach games to determine who among them was worthy of being named his successor. For some reason, Jim didn't feel any threat to his status as the designated number-two man, regardless of who Michael crowned beach-champion. Maybe that's why he had been eliminated from the first game by Creed of all people. The contest was a single elimination gladiatorial redux where two employees enter a circle of sand and wrestle each other for control of a wooden stick -- the winner being the one who gets the stick out of the circle in his or her possession. Jim had been taking it easy, and well on his way to victory, when Creed unleashed his secret weapon, an extremely dirty tactic known in wrestling circles as the Five on Two. (the human male has five fingers...) Jim's balls still hurt as he stared bug-eyed at what he was seeing in the ring.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH. STOP!!! PLEASE!! NO!!"

Kelly was flailing... close to tears. Karen hissed at her.

"Just drop the stick and all this can end."

Kelly was instinctively grasping the stick. She was face down on the sand, her head pinned there by the back of Karen's knee. Karen was pushing her face into the sand, forcing her to eat some. Through the corner of her eye, she could see Ryan watching, his mouth hanging open.

"OK OK!"

Kelly let go of the stick and Karen grabbed it. As she got up to triumphantly escape the circle, she gave Kelly's head one last push... one last mouthful of sand. Yes, she was a tough chick, but that was just mean. Karen held her arms up in celebration and looked over at Jim and smiled. He forced himself to smile back.

The sheer madness of the whole situation had him fighting his old instinct to go sit by Pam so they could make light of the absurdity together. He looked over at her. She was sitting a good 30 yards away, alone on a small towel that she had brought with her and spread out for herself. She didn't have a book or a magazine or anything to keep her busy. Michael hadn't told her until the last minute that she would be excluded from the beach games because her status as receptionist precluded her from being named his heir. She just sat quietly, holding her knees gently against her chest, only halfheartedly watching the chaos unfolding in front of her. Jim turned to look at Karen, but she had her back to him, watching intently as Meredith and Angela went at each other, scouting her competition.

Fuck it. Jim stood up and waddled over to Pam as quickly as his sore balls would allow. She looked beautiful. He had resigned himself to the fact that she always would. Although was wearing a modest black one-piece swimsuit and loose fitting red boardshorts, she was showing a lot more skin than he was used to seeing, and Jim couldn't keep his eyes from looking her over thoroughly as he approached. She seemed to sense this and curled up ever so slightly. She looked up at him, squinting in the afternoon sunlight.

"Hey Jim."

Jim didn't answer. He just plopped himself down beside her and smiled. Pam smiled back, sliding over to make room for him on her towel. He nudged over after her. The towel was narrow. He was sitting as close to her as he could without touching... She couldn't resist.

"Having a ball?"

Despite the painful, lingering protest from the southern contingent of Team Halpert, Jim couldn't help but laugh. He replied through a toothy grin.

"Shut up, Beesly. That may be funny in about 10 minutes but it isn't now..."

She turned and looked at him. Staring... smiling... those eyes... It had been a while since he'd seen them like this, since he'd really let himself look at them without fear of getting caught. He remembered those eyes all right. The images were burnt into his memory. The boat, the poker table, the parking lot, and now, almost a year later... the beach.

As was the case whenever these two had locked gazes like this over the years, it was Pam who had to eventually break the stare... Jim had never had the strength, and to his amazement, to his horror, he still didn't. The strength that he had fought so hard to draw from Karen had failed him completely. This time it lasted nearly ten seconds. Pam broadened her smile even more.

"So... what have you been feeding Karen?"

Jim opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out... he had been here before, in this exact situation, more than one year ago. Only that time the question had been "What's it like dating a cheerleader?" Jim could only force a smile and shake his head. He finally produced a feeble attempt to end the awkwardness...

"Uncooked bull testicles."

Pam giggled a bit and gave him a playful swat.

They sat for over ten minutes. The words flowed easily. The laughter was not forced. The smiles were genuine. God I missed this. Jim was so lost in the moment that he barely noticed Karen, who just 30 yards away was pinned in the sand face down, her arms and legs flailing against the sand like an angry child, a gently smiling Phyllis sitting square on her back.

*******************

Pam fetched a tiny medicine bottle from her handbag and turned to Jim.

"Can you help me out? I have to put these eye drops in and I can't keep my eye open when I know it's coming."

"Sure."

Jim took the bottle from her and uncapped it. Pam leaned back until her head was laying gently on the ground, her hair splayed easily behind her. Jim pivoted to face her, leaned over, and placed his left hand over her left eye and gently coaxed it open. He slowly squeezed the bottle, but before he could get the drop to fall, Pam squealed, sat up a bit, and pulled his right hand away.

"OK this isn't working either... I'm just too chicken..."

"Shhhhhhh." Jim hushed her. With his hand against her forehead, he gently pushed her head back down. After telling her to put her arms at her sides, he swung his leg over her stomach, pressing down just hard enough to pin her arms down. His hand was up in her hair now, stroking it gently. Pam tightened up, opened her eye, and faced her fears. Jim wasted no time. Bullseye.

She flinched, but didn't make a sound. Jim continued to run his hand through her bangs. He tightened his leg around her body, letting himself steal a forbidden hug in plain view.

He had just finished doing her other eye when a shadow appeared suddenly and moved over both of them. Jim looked up. Oh crap.

Karen.

And she looked pissed. Jim jerked his leg off of Pam... too quickly, dammit... she'll know. Pam sat up.

"Karen it's not what it looks like -- I was helping her put in eye drops."

Karen looked unmoved, but as she had so many times in the past, she let Jim talk her down. It took less than 30 seconds. It actually helped that Pam backed him up, offering up herself to take the blame, saying it was her fault for asking him in the first place.

Karen spoke up.

"Its OK... Come on Jim, let's go."

Jim looked over at Pam one last time as he stood up. He turned slowly to Karen, who was waiting for him with her hands on her hips.

Karen suddenly gasped. It was total surprise mixed with horror. They all saw it at once. Well, Jim didn't exactly see it. Rather he felt it, bulging against his shorts from the inside, pushing against his waistband... betraying everything. He couldn't believe he'd been so lost in Pam that he hadn't felt it. Oh Shit. All he knew was the next 30 seconds of his life weren't going to be very fun...

Jim's eyes darted downward briefly, but he didn't need visual confirmation of the betrayal that Jim Jr. had just inflicted on him. Reactively, defensively, he looked back up at Karen. Her body still quivering from having been sat on by Phyllis, she froze in place. For the second time in under a minute, her lungs stopped working. Her eyes shot wide open and locked on the bulging mass that was now cruelly pointed at her. Not two feet to his left was Pam, still sitting. Despite the fact that time was moving so agonizingly slowly, Jim was aware that she had gasped sharply and covered her mouth with her hands. The passing seconds slowed to a crawl. A deathly silence drowned out the noise of the ocean and the chaos of Michael's competition. They stood in an awkward triangle, a triangle plus one really. Jim staring at Karen staring at his ungainly bulge. Pam staring at the fabric-tenting vector which now defiantly pointed at Karen who looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

Karen recoiled back a few small steps. She moved her gaze up and met Jim's eyes as he tried to make sense of the vacant look on her face. She slowly and silently staggered backwards, but hadn't gotten more than two feet away when her head was bumped lightly but awkwardly from behind by an ungainly chunk of metal and glass. THUNK.

"Aah!" She let out a startled cry and skipped back toward Jim, ducking forward and reaching up to rub the back of her head, coming within six inches of getting poked in the forehead by Jim's stubbornly persistent shame. Jim hadn't see him back there. The camera guy... CRAP! He should have known -- the camera guy was a pro, and he had spent enough time in the office to be able to predict where the drama was going to be and get himself into position. In this case he had locked his lens on Karen as she had struggled futilely to free herself from under Phyllis' rear end. Phyllis had seen him, and smiled at the camera for a bit as she twirled an imaginary lasso and pretended to ride Karen like a horse. Then he had zoomed in on the sheer disgust on the pinned girl's normally stoic face as Phyllis gave her butt a few playful swats before mercifully letting her up (only after making Karen say "pretty please"). Being a seasoned professional, he kept the camera on Karen after this. She had immediately staggered over to Jim for comfort, but she had unknowingly led him to pure documentary gold.

Not that any of this mattered to Jim at the moment. All three of them moved to escape. Pam turned to her left and clamped her hands over her face, trying mightily to suppress the laughter that wanted so badly to explode. Karen was trapped: the camera behind her, Pam to her right, the threat of Jimpalement from the front. Taking her only option, she ducked down onto her knees, pivoted to her left, and took off toward the parking lot. As Karen moved away, the camera was pointed right... OH GOD! Jim ducked backwards, closing his knees and splashing hard onto his butt. As he recoiled, his leg caught Karen just as she was getting to her feet. Jim heard the thump as Karen belly flopped back into the sand, but her legs kept moving, kicking sand onto him and Pam as she regained her footing and sprinted off.

Jim instinctively started to get up to follow her, but remembered the situation and froze. His voice still worked, but only just barely.

"Uuuuh... Pam?"

He turned to Pam slowly, using his right leg to block the camera from capturing any more of his disgrace. She turned and peeked out at him from between her fingers. She was bright red and shaking. Her body was doing all it could to avoid bursting into uncontrolled laughter.

"Can I borrow your towel?"

She couldn't take it anymore. She moved her hands off her face. Her face was wrinkled up, her eyes squinted shut. She stiffened her torso and jerked her arms straight up into the air.

"OK take it... just don't shoot!"

She barely got the words out before bursting into laughter. She covered her face again with her left hand, and used her right hand to pass her towel to Jim as she collapsed into the fetal position, immobilized by laughter. Any other time that would be funny. Actually, it was pretty funny even now. Good one Beesly. Jim couldn't hold back a little smile. For years, his most satisfying moments were the ones when he made her laugh. Nothing made his day like watching her burst into happy laughter at one of his jokes. Thank God she was going to laugh this little incident off too. Maybe they hadn't drifted as far apart as he thought. And she looked so beaut... Christ, Jim, you're trying to get rid of this thing. Jim looked away as he wrapped his waist in Pam's towel, tucking the towel into a little knot in the front. The more visual clutter in front, the better.

He bolted up and took off in the direction Karen was last seen headed, moving as fast as the lingering effects of Creed's handiwork and his awkward configuration would permit.

He found her behind her car, sitting against the side of it, her knees drawn up into her chest, looking away from him. She was wearing a plain, tight fitting black one-piece swimsuit and some pale blue soccer shorts. She had made it a point to dress as modestly as possible after Michael had told her the forecast had called for "bikini weather." She had taken her hair down from the tight fitting bun she had been wearing and was rubbing her head where the camera had bumped it. There was no question she was pretty... beautiful even... but this was of little consolation to Jim. He knew she was capable of getting very ugly very fast, and he tried to preempt the ass-chewing that he was certain was headed his way.

He remembered the "Five rules for dealing with women" that his old roommate Mark had advised him of. Lie lie lie lie lie. He prepared his list of excuses, the primary one being "blood flow to region following Creed incident."

"Karen I'm so sorry... I just... see after getting hit the blood..."

She turned and looked up at him. Her voice contained none of the venom he was expecting.

"It's OK Jim. Just sit down."

What? It must be a trap. It had to be. She's going to neuter me... He slowly slid down beside her, keeping a respectful distance. He tried to apologize again and she interrupted him again.

"Really Jim, it's OK. I know you had a thing for her for a very long time. And you're a dude..."

Her voice was flat, unemotional. It actually kind of hurt. Jim found himself wishing she would just rip him a new one so they could be even. Before he could reply Karen made her move, sitting up and facing him.

"But she's the past Jim. The past. I want to be the future." She moved closer to him, staring intensely. His screw up had given her capital to force him into some relationship talk. Dammit she's brutal.

"We don't have to do it now, but can we at least talk about New York later? We really need to discuss it, Jim, and I don't want to lose you."

She smiled just a bit and batted her eyes at him. She had been bugging him about New York for a while now, but he had always been able to duck the subject. Now she had leverage and she knew it.

"OK Karen... And I don't want to lose you either. We'll talk tonight."

She leaned over and gave him a little hug. He hugged her back with one arm.

"Hey Jim, how about giving me that swim lesson you were bugging me about."

Jim smiled a little bit. He really hoped he could love her someday.

"OK Filippelli. Let's go."

Karen started tying her hair up again, but didn't stand up.

"We can wait here for a bit until... until it's gone."

It took Jim a second to realize. Oh, yeah... that.

"Don't worry, its totally gone now."

The water was beyond cold. For a second he forgot that this had been his idea. From the moment last week that Michael had announced his beach plans, he had bugged Karen relentlessly, slowly wearing her down until she promised to let him take her in the water at least once. She was obviously uncomfortable, but like so many other things, she had let him talk her into it. Jim wondered if she had any idea why he'd been so insistent. He forced himself to dive in. He wasn't going to let a little case of the chills ruin his fun.

Karen entered the water slowly, taking small calculated steps and flinching whenever a dying wave would roll by and splash her higher than she was ready for. In a couple of minutes she was waist deep, standing shivering with her arms crossed tightly. That's when Jim grabbed her and pulled her out into the deep. She let out a panicky little gasp and held onto him tightly, her legs kicking ineffectively to try to maintain some control. He stepped backwards to where he could touch the bottom without submerging his head, but was sure the shorter Karen could not. He stopped and drew her closer. She put her chin on his shoulder so they were ear to ear, wrapped her arms firmly around his shoulders and neck, and held on. She couldn't get her legs to stop kicking, though. Jim held her body up, and with one hand gently rubbed her back to calm her down. She was sharp and pretty, a strong-minded, independent woman. And now she was cold and a little scared... thrashing, clinging to him . In this moment, he was everything to her. Everything. He enjoyed the feeling. He needed the feeling. He needed moments like this. Because a year ago he had been reduced to nothing.

Until that terrible night last May, he had never known how much despair; seething, toxic, venomous despair, he was capable of inflicting on himself. After that brief moment of beautiful, passionate hope when she had kissed him back, the burning in his chest and stomach had hurt so badly that he could barely walk upright. He had stumbled to the roof ladder, forced himself to climb up, and spent the next hours under the Pennsylvania night sky, sitting against an air conditioning duct, crying softly while he tried to make sense of the overpowering emptiness that had descended upon his world. You have no idea how much your friendship means to me. Friendship. He was a friend. That's all he was. A stupid accessory, something to keep her busy between bouts of lovemaking with that overgrown idiot. He was nothing. When he finally left, it would be like he was never there.

Karen would never make him feel that way. She simply didn't have that kind of power over him. Jim wasn't sure if she ever would, or anyone else ever would for that matter. He simply wasn't capable of letting himself fall so hard. Not again. Not ever again. As he held her now he smiled to himself as her shivering lessened slightly. He was reaching up to pull her head tighter against his own when he caught himself.

It was so familiar in so many unpleasant ways. He looked past Karen's head and locked eyes with Pam. She was sitting alone back on the beach, staring at him. Their eyes met and locked into place for a few seconds, until she turned away studied some imaginary distraction in the sand beside her. The last time this happened he had been dancing with Karen at Phyllis' wedding, and he saw her sitting nearby staring at him. He had almost surrendered completely that very moment, coming within an inch of breaking up with Karen on the spot and running over to Pam to once again offer her everything. Good God had he been wrong. So wrong. He had actually seen longing in her gaze. He had actually seen love. And not ten minutes later, watching her leave with the only man he ever really hated, he was reminded so brutally that her idea of love was a the furthest thing from him. Thank God he hadn't had the guts to act on his impulse. He couldn't handle that despair again, and losing Karen would have been bad too.

He was jolted out of his daydream by Karen. She was speaking softly, almost whispering into his ear.

"Hey... what're you thinking about?"

Jim squeezed her tight and lied again.

"The future."

All things considered, it was still nice to have him back. It would have been better if he had never left, though. Whatever happened to that easygoing, carefree happiness that used to carry him through each day, spilling over onto everyone else in the process. Well, everyone but Dwight, really. And everyone but Dwight really missed that guy. It was most certainly the six months of exposure to the sterile, unfeeling , soul-crushing environment of Josh Porter. Porter. Just thinking the name caused a foul smell to descend on the room for a moment. Porter. The second most egregious instance of everything wrong with the paper industry, behind only Toby Flenderson, convicted rapist. Jim would recover from the horrors of working under that self-righteous worm. It would just take a little time, a little Scranton, and a little inspiration from the boss. He was wounded, yes, but Dr. Scott knew just what to prescribe. Chili's, Hooters, some magic tricks, and a large helping of jokes. Jim would come around. Karen, on the other hand, may be irredeemable. Three full years she had toiled under Josh and his life-sapping, dream-wrecking regime. He may have crushed her soul completely by now. Michael had repeatedly brought out his big guns for her and she hadn't even cracked a smile. Prison Mike, Tarbash, Bill Cosby, the Governator, Michael Jackson. Nobody could seem to get through to her.

"What's on your mind Jim bag?"

Jim had entered with Karen, but before even settling in had diverted to Michael's office, and closed the door. He plopped down in one of the visitor chairs.

"Michael I don't really know how to say this... Karen and I... Karen and I are going to pursue a transfer to New York."

The room went silent. Jim was looking expectantly for a response. He looked more than a little nervous. Remember Wikipedia.

"OK Jim, you propose that you both leave. I say you both stay. So, mano a mano, I offer to meet you in the middle. Karen transfers. You stay. You have 24 hours." Genius. Your move Halpert.

Jim sighed and slumped down a little.

"Michael it's not like that. It's just there's too many things here that... well we need a fresh start with just the two of us."

Michael could sense the despair in Jim's voice. This hurt. This office was a family. He was the patriarch, the guiding light... a hipper, more comedic version of Jesus really... and these people were his flock. His family. Jim was his son. A wayward son at times but a son nonetheless. Karen was his bastard step-niece, warmly adopted from the abusive home of his now-disowned jerkoff half brother Josh. They were all family. And families stick together. This situation was unacceptable. He needed to bring in the big guns.

"Jim. This is all I ask. Give me till the end of the day to work up a counteroffer..."

"It's not about money Michael..." Jim interrupted but Michael promptly cut him off.

"PLEASE, Jim, at least give me a chance. I think you owe me this. Stick around till 6:30 tonight. Let's do it after everyone is gone"

"OK."

OK indeed. Advantage Scott. He had less than 8 hours to set up his plan.


**************************


Every once in a while Michael really scared him. He wore such a thick veil of sheer lunacy. He was capable of being so immature, so petty... so scathingly annoying. He was borderline incompetent at times, and he possessed a rampant, overpowering insecurity that caused him constantly jostle to be the center of attention. Despite all his flaws, though, there was a very real, pure, gentle kindness lurking just under his veil of blustery incompetence. Jim was a good salesman because he could get clients to like him. Michael, in contrast, was a great salesman because he genuinely liked his clients, and they had a hard time not liking him back. The moments when Michael dropped his insecurities and could just be himself were the moments that scared Jim. It was scary to know there was a warm, highly-capable man hiding under that thick, obnoxious shell. It made it very hard to tell what Michael was capable of. So as Jim made the short walk through the deserted office to the conference room he was a little afraid. Afraid that Michael would find the words to get him to stay.

Karen had gone to the gym. They had been working out together sporadically for the last few months, but Jim usually ended up lazily shooting hoops while Karen diligently climbed flight after flight of steps on the StairMaster. Before leaving, she had warned him to be strong, to remember their plans, and not to give in to Michael. He had assured her that it would be OK, secretly cherishing the opportunity to miss a boring gym visit.

Michael opened the conference room door and gestured inside with a flourish.

"Ready for you, sir..."

Jim smiled politely and stepped inside. And then he saw her. Pam. Sitting there looking as perplexed as he was. Jim hesitated. Michael pushed him inside, stepped in, and closed the door.

Pam spoke first... "Michael what's going on?"

He responded with a flourish, in his best magician's voice.

"I suppose you two are wondering why I called you both here today... In good time, all shall be revealed."

His tone turned serious.

"But first, I'd like to have a short prayer. Please... please."

Something was very wrong. As far as Jim knew, Michael was strictly a Christmas and Easter guy. He probably really did trust Apollo Creed more than Jesus. He certainly wasn't a prayer kind of guy. He reached out his hands. Pam stood up and slowly, cautiously grabbed Michael's right hand. Pam seemed to be surviving OK... Jim grabbed Michael's left hand with his right, and noticed Pam holding her right arm across toward him. Was this Michael's plan? Make him hold hands with Pam and have everything melt into place? Even for Michael this was ridiculous.

"Please, Jim."

Best to just get it over with. Jim reached out and grabbed Pam's extended hand, completing the triangle.

Michael launched into a sonorous, chant-like prayer.

"Oooooooooooooh sweet Jeeeeeesus......"

The prayer ended as spectacularly as it had begun. Jim felt the cold metal an instant before the click registered in his ear. Michael had exploded into motion. With his right hand, Michael had released Pam, whipped out a pair of handcuffs, and locked them onto Jim's right wrist. Jim instinctively recoiled his arm, but Michael pulled it forward with both his arms, and in one surprisingly agile motion, had grabbed a very surprised Pam's arm and locked her left wrist into the other cuff. Michael let go, and Jim's residual pulling motion yanked Pam forward a bit, causing her to let out a surprised yelp. Jim relaxed his arm.

"Michael this is crazy!" Jim's yell was drowned out by an even louder one from Michael.

"No YOU'RE crazy, Jim. I should have done this a long time ago. You two dummies aren't fooling anyone but yourselves. I'll be back in two hours. If you still want to leave, I'll even put in the paperwork for you."

Michael made for the door. Jim moved to block him but was held back by Pam, who was caught off guard by the sudden motion. The door slammed and Jim heard the lock clicking shut.


***********************

Had Michael seen the looks of longing passed in both directions? The looks of hurt on both their faces when Karen interrupted their now limited interactions. Maybe he had seen everything they hadn't seen. Everything they wouldn't see. Michael must have thought two hours of forced conversation between these two dummies would be enough to get them to see what he saw in them. He was wrong. So very wrong.

It took less than 10 minutes. 10 lousy minutes. Six months had passed since the merger and they couldn't have found 10 minutes to be honest with each other until Michael Scott had literally chained them together. All the lost time, the bad feeling, the anger, the resentment, the bitterness. All melted away in 10 little minutes. Gone.

Minutes 11-80 were punctuated by deep breathing and sloppy moans as these two adults, both approaching their 30th year, proceeded to make out like two horny junior high kids. At that point, Jim pulled away out of sheer exhaustion, to the dismay of the very same anatomical phenomenon that had gotten him in so much trouble earlier. He needed to catch his breath. They could chat for a while until Michael came and freed them. Then he had some sad business with Karen to attend to, followed no doubt by a much anticipated night in Beesly's fancy new apartment. Pam was smiling at him... that huge, happy smile that he so missed.

"You know, Beesly, I have new respect for the guy... even for Michael, this was pretty freakin crazy plan. I can't believe he came up with it"

Pam cast a little smile back his way.

"He didn't."