Shipwrecked

By Jody E.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

January 9, 2006

Jim flipped a new page on his desk calendar. Monday, January 9th. He felt a familiar sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. Yesterday, January 8th was his anniversary…Five years at Dunder Mifflin. He looked over at the reception desk where Pam sat, writing up messages from the answering machine. She looked up and saw him and smiled. Three years that Pam had worked here. Three years ago, yesterday, she had walked into this office, shy and miserable about giving up a job in the art world to come work here. It was only temporary, she had promised herself, and now three years later, here she was, still a receptionist. Three years ago she and Roy had gotten engaged, and here they were, still engaged. Three years ago, Jim had fallen in love with Pam, and here he was, still in love with her, with no cure in sight. He had learned to live with it, like his Father with the bad leg he got in Vietnam. He didn’t talk about it, but it was a fact of his life.

It was as though he and Pam and Roy were stuck in some kind of bizarre holding pattern. He and Pam were friends, laughing together and playing pranks on Dwight together, having long talks in the break room at lunch time. Then every night, Pam would go home to Roy, and what they talked about, and did, Jim tried not to imagine.

So many times, Jim had sat at his desk when he was supposed to be working, wondering exactly what to do to break this pattern, to change something. This past Christmas he had actually worked up the nerve to write, "I love you," inside the card he included in her secret Santa gift. He was hoping that it would get things out in the open even if it upset her at first. At least it would get the dialog started. But then his gift (and card!) had almost fallen into the wrong hands…the most wrong hands possible...Dwight’s! And when Pam did end up with the teapot, at last, he had stolen the card back, terrified at the thought of losing the friendship that was the most precious thing to him in the world.

And apparently, his New Year’s resolution to tell Pam the truth was also a failure, as the New Year was more than a week old, and he had done absolutely nothing. And now he was in the midst of the January doldrums, with nothing to look forward to but more winter, and he didn’t think that the situation he was in would ever change. At least the camera people weren’t here today. He didn’t need them documenting his misery and frustration. When he felt this way, there was only one remedy. He looked at Dwight working smugly away at something on his computer, and decided that he needed a prank in honor of his and Pam’s anniversary. He had an idea in mind. He got up and went over to Pam’s desk, and under cover of eating jellybeans asked her, "Good morning, Pam. How are you at moving furniture?"

Her eyes lit up as they always did when she sensed one of his Dwight ideas brewing. "Morning, Jim. How much furniture, and where are you planning to move it?"

He just winked, "Meet me in the breakroom in 10 minutes."

Ten minutes later he found himself in the breakroom, making a cup of coffee, when Pam strolled in nonchalantly, and started making tea in her little green tea pot. "So, what’s the big plan?"

"I was thinking. If we moved Dwight’s desk one inch towards the copy machine, every time he went to the bathroom, how long do you think it would take him to notice?"

"Hmmm," Said Pam, "that’s an intriguing question. He should notice right away, because his desk butts up against yours. However, as we both know from experience, Dwight tends not to notice subtle changes."

"Exactly…despite his claims to be exceptionally observant. So what’s your guess, Beesly, 5 inches, 10 inches?"

"That’s what she said," Pam said, laughing, and Jim laughed with her. They had gotten more mileage out of Michael’s terrible joke over the years, than he would have ever dreamed.

Pam continued thoughtfully, "But...I can’t imagine even Dwight not noticing that his desk was moved 5 inches."

"See...now I was thinking more like 10, maybe even a foot, or even more."

"Really. 10 or more? You know, that sounds like a wager to me."

"I was thinking the same thing."

"What stakes?"

Jim didn’t hesitate, "Favor."

Pam looked started. Favor was the most dangerous of their wagers, used only sparingly. Usually their bets revolved around candy bars or sodas, or perhaps a dollar or even five. But favors were an unknown commodity. If Pam won she could request a favor from Jim, and vice versa. So far the favors had been as innocuous as the bets. Once Jim had had to bring Pam's lunch in to work for a week. Once Pam had had to take Jim’s car to the car wash. But with favors the potential existed for somebody to ask something daring, something forbidden, like, "Give me a kiss," or "Break up with Roy." Something that would smash the carefully built façade of their friendship. But a favor bet was also a challenge, and Pam couldn’t resist a challenge. "You’re on," said Pam, eyes flashing. "But aren’t those desks very heavy?"

Jim laughed, and said only, "Easy glide furniture movers. I got them in a furniture store over the weekend."

She shook her head in awe. The both went back to their desks.

The hardest part was slipping the plastic disks under the corners of Dwight’s desk during his first trip to the bathroom. Fortunately, Dwight’s first trip to the bathroom every morning usually involved USA Today, and lasted quite a while, so they had plenty of time.

After that, it was a piece of cake. Every time that Dwight got up to go to the bathroom, or to bother Michael, or out to lunch, Pam left her desk with a bunch of papers for Jim to look at, and while pretending to look at these papers, they slid Dwight’s desk one inch towards the copy machine. Just one inch. They were both back at their respective desks each time that Dwight got back. As always he searched his desk for evidence of tampering, but he never noticed the change in location. Jim had carefully lined up Dwight’s bobblehead collection so that they blocked the edge of his desk, and the increasingly wide chasm between his desk and Jim’s.

Five inches, ten inches…Jim and Pam looked at each other in disbelief, each time Dwight returned to his desk and noticed nothing. Jim was actually beginning to worry that five o’clock would arrive before Dwight noticed. Finally he had Pam call Dwight and remind him that Toby needed three copies of his expense report. When Dwight got up to go to the copy machine, it was suddenly two feet closer than usual. He stood looking at the machine in confusion. Then he turned around and walked back to his desk, and then back to the copy machine. Back again, he slowly walked around his desk, a feat that was usually impossible. Jim and Pam shook with silent laughter.

"Why is my desk moved?!" Dwight accused Jim.

"What do you mean?" Jim managed to say with an innocent face, " Isn’t that where it always is?"

"No! Look at me. Do I usually stand between our desks?"

"No. But I always assumed that was a matter of choice."

"Our desks should be right up against each other!"

"Hey, if you want to sit closer to me, just say so. It’s nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. I’ll even help you move your desk. Dwight, honey."

"Arggh!" Dwight groaned and ran in to complain to Michael. Quickly, Jim and Pam slid his desk back into its usual position. When Dwight came out with Michael, everything was back to normal and Pam and Jim were busily working. Dwight took one look at his desk, and sputtered with frustration and stomped into the breakroom.

Michael looked questioningly at Jim, "What in holy hell was that all about?"

Jim shook his head, sadly, "Dwight’s been under a lot of stress lately, "he explained, " January is a tough month for all of us. But I’ll look out for him."

"Now that’s the spirit!" said Michael, relieved, " That’s the old espree décor! Good work, Jim." He strode back into his office; another crisis successfully dealt with.

Jim had won the bet. He knew that Pam was probably unaware that today was, in fact, their anniversary, as he had never pointed it out to her. He was always afraid it would seem a mite too stalkery for him to recall the exact date she had started at Dunder Mifflin, even if it was the same date as his own anniversary. But in honor of that unknown anniversary, Jim had a plan. He was going to ask Pam out, as his favor. Just for a drink, just for an hour, someplace alone outside the office. And then he would tell her. Finally, after three years he would tell her. He had been thinking of little else all day, planning the exact words he would use. He decided that "I love you" was actually too ambiguous, as it could be deflected with an "I love you too, you’re my best friend," kind of answer. No, he needed to pull out the big guns. "I’m in love with you." It stated the facts and left no room for misinterpretation.

It was a hideous gamble, he realized. He knew that Pam was unhappy with her never ending engagement, and that she and Roy didn’t see eye to eye on so many things. But they were all caught in this ridiculous status quo and nothing was ever going to change, unless somebody made a move. But it could, quite simply, ruin everything. The thought of Pam rejecting him, made his blood run cold. And, God forbid, what if she wouldn’t even go out with him? There was no law that compelled them to follow the rules of the games they played. They just did. They paid their debts and didn’t speak when jinxed and didn’t cheat at Boggle. But if Pam refused this favor, that would all end. His heart thumping, Jim looked at the clock. It was almost five o’clock. It’s now or never, Halpert, he told himself, and got up and headed towards Pam’s desk. Never had ten feet seemed like such an impossible distance...perhaps Dwight had secretly moved his desk.

"Hey, Halpert, I guess you win, "Pam said with an uneasy smile, "I never would have guessed two feet."

"It’s a gift, what can I say?"

"So, I guess I owe you a favor."

"That’s right, "said Jim amazed that he could even hear her over the sound of his heart.

"Now or later?" Pam asked the ritualized question, indicating that he could request the favor now or wait up to 48 hours.

"Now," Jim gasped.

Pam stared at him, waiting for his response.

"Pam…" he began.

"Hey babe!" It was Roy, bursting though the front door, the concerned fiancé. "It’s kind of icy out there. Good thing we’ve got the truck. C’mon, I’ll walk you out." He looked at Jim, who was slowly edging away from Pam’s desk, "Hey Halpert, what’s up?"

"Same old, same old, "said Jim, hating that inane response but unable to think of anything better, since the truth probably wouldn’t go over that well. "Later, Beesly, " he said to Pam and went back to his desk, defeated by the fate that had brought Roy upstairs, for the first time since the Christmas party.

He grabbed his coat and headed for the door. He didn’t know if he felt like crying or kicking something, or somebody, very hard. Was it fate? Was this whole thing with him and Pam never meant to be? He sat in his car, in the dark, awash with despair, watching Pam and Roy leave together in his truck. Sure, according to the rules, he could still ask her tomorrow or Wednesday, but he knew that he wouldn’t. The moment had gone. His momentum and determination had dissipated. And he was alone. He could go back to his house. Do some wash that was long overdue. Mark might be there, but he probably wasn’t, and even if he was, he would be in his room with his girlfriend, which was even worse. On impulse, Jim took out his cel phone, and called a number that he still had programmed.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Katie? This is Jim. Jim Halpert."

"Jim. Hi. It’s been a while."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. Things have been kind of crazy around here. Did you have a nice Christmas?"

"Not bad. How was yours?"

"Good. Dunder Mifflin had the world’s worst Office Christmas party."

"Yeah. I’m not surprised. That place can’t even throw a decent fire drill, no less a party."

Jim laughed. "I’m sorry, I haven’t spoken to you in a while. Things have been…’

"Kind of crazy. I think you mentioned that. "

"Listen, " Jim said, "I know it’s very short notice, and I wouldn’t blame you for saying no, but I was wondering if you might want to go out for a drink tonight."

"Oh. Well, I just got home, and I’ve been on my feet all day, with those damn purses, and I don’t know if I can stand going out again."

"Oh no. I understand. It’s a weird night, Monday...maybe we could do it another.."

"No. No. What I meant was, why don’t you come over here? I have some frozen pizzas I can put in the oven. It’s not gourmet, but it’s better than eating alone, right?"

Every warning system that Jim possessed, sent bells, alarms and whistles to his brain. Katie should have been pissed at him for allowing their relationship to fizzle out after a couple of months. He hadn’t expected her to even agree to a drink, no less dinner. At her place. You know this is a mistake, Jimbo, he lectured himself. She is way too happy to hear from you. Which means that she’s probably lonely as hell. And needy as hell. Just like you. This can’t end well.

"I’ll bring a bottle of wine, " he said, and started his car.

January 10, 2006

Jim opened his eyes. It was still dark in the room, the darkness before dawn, but Jim instantly knew where he was, "Oh shit," he thought as awareness flooded in. Next to him, in the creaky four poster bed, Katie rolled over and draped her arm around him. Oh shit, Jimbo, he told himself, you are the stupidest person in the history of stupid people. Michael Scott is a brain surgeon compared to you. Dwight Schrute is Sherlock Holmes compared to you. What the hell were you thinking?

He felt fine, too, no hangover, so he didn’t even have alcohol as an excuse. He had arrived at Katie’s shortly after six, a bottle of wine in hand. Her place hadn’t changed much in the two months since he had seen her last. It was still cute, like a college dorm room expanded to a kitchen and living room. Jim wasn’t really a big fan of cute. He liked it when it was naturally occurring, as in puppies and kittens and his nephew Davie, but manufactured cuteness wasn’t his cup of tea. He and Pam had laughed over Angela’s new poster of instrument playing babies, agreeing that it was hideous, and thankful that they didn’t have to look at it every day, like Oscar and Kevin did. Katie’s apartment wasn’t as bad as that, thank goodness, but its cliched girlishness still made him uncomfortable the first few minutes he was there.

Their conversation was awkward too, at first, given their history. They had dated pretty much over the summer and into the fall, keeping it light, not talking about anything serious. He had invited her to the Dundee Awards, but she had been unable to make it, because of a prior commitment. As a result, he had ended up spending the evening with Pam, and she had kissed him, albeit under the influence of massive amounts of Margarita. After that it was really hard to keep up his interest in Katie. They still went out now and then, but when she invited him to a big party at Halloween, one where he knew he would be shown off as her boyfriend, he had manufactured an excuse not to go. He suspected that she hadn’t really bought his excuse and things had cooled off quite a bit between them, then. Even so, a couple of weeks later, at his barbecue, when Ryan had asked his permission to ask her out, he had hesitated. Not out of jealousy, he realized, but out of concern. Ryan was a bit of an oddball. He and Jim got along pretty well at the office, and he was serious about business school, but on the weekends he was a big partier, according to office rumor. Jim suspected he was something of a player, and didn’t want Katie to get hurt. But in the end, there was no reason for Ryan not to ask her out. Katie was a grownup and could make her own choices. And she had gone out with Ryan a couple of times, though according to Ryan, nothing had come of it. Jim did wonder from time to time if Ryan had slept with her, but it was more idle curiosity than a burning desire to know.

On the phone, Katie had mentioned frozen pizza, but what she actually had was fresh Boboli pizza shells, Ragu pizza sauce, grated mozzarella and a variety of toppings. Jim wondered if she had made a mad dash to the store before he arrived. At any rate, assembling the pizzas and opening the wine had broken the ice, and they were soon laughing and talking much as they always had. He told her about the D-M Christmas party, leaving out all mention of Pam and teapots, and repossessed Christmas cards. She told him about Christmas with her family and what a zoo it had been. Neither of them was seeing anybody at the moment. They joked that things were so bad dating-wise, that neither of them had even seen any of the big Academy Award contender movies, like Brokeback Mountain or Crash, so they would have nobody to root for on Oscar night.

While the pizzas were baking, Jim and Katie moved a pile of magazines off of the coffee table so that they could eat there and watch TV. Jim knew that she subscribed to People, Us, Martha Stewart Living and Cosmo, all classics of modern day literature. He noticed that the Cosmo was opened, but he didn’t catch the article she had been reading, before Katie moved the magazine. But, lying here now, beside her, Jim could almost picture it, "The Prodigal Boyfriend: Ten surefire ways to make sure he comes back for good." He was pretty sure she had used all of those surefire ways on him last night. Especially what he imagined were numbers nine and ten. But then again, she had always been pretty good at nine and ten, back when they had been dating. And they worked…he had to give props to Cosmo...because here he was.

Jim moved Katie’s arm so that she wasn’t actually strangling him, and sighed. One night stands weren’t his modis operendi, and even if they were, he would never do that to Katie. Therefore, since he was here, he must be, as Cosmo put it, "back." Maybe not "for good," but at least for the time being. And why not? Maybe this was the way to finally change the status quo, by pulling himself out of the equation. He had tried it before with Katie, and Pam had pulled him back in, but maybe this time it would be different. This time he would try harder.

The room was growing lighter. Jim could make out the Klimt poster on the wall opposite the bed. "The Kiss," he believed it was called. He really had to get home. Was it late enough to leave? He wanted to shower and change and be by himself for awhile, before going to work. Would she be hurt if he left now? Maybe he should read some Esquire type articles himself, like "The etiquette of sleeping with one woman while in love with another," or "Is it considered cheating on a woman if she’s living with another man?" Read them…hell, he could write them!

Carefully, he disengaged himself from Katie, and got up. Retrieving his clothes was a bit of a project, since they seemed to be scattered all over the room, and it wasn’t quite light enough to see all that well, yet. He got dressed in the bathroom so as not to wake Katie up, and stopped in the kitchen to leave her a note. "Dear Katie, "he wrote, "Thanks for a wonderful evening. I’m sorry I had to leave so early, but I have to get home and do some wash before work, which I didn’t do last night. I’ll call you later. I was thinking, maybe we could see the new Harry Potter movie this weekend, or anything else you’d prefer. Plus I owe you dinner. (The pizza was great!) Talk to you soon. Jim." He grimaced at the note… was that the best he could do? He contemplated writing Love, Jim, but decided not to add hypocrisy to his general stupidity. At the last moment, he went back into the bedroom, and kissed Katie on the forehead. She smiled at him in her sleep, and he felt so guilty he wanted to cry. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t Pam.

When he got home, Jim did throw a load of wash into the machine, while he ate a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios and some toast. While his wash was drying, he took a shower and was able to grab a shirt right out of the dryer, so that it didn’t need ironing. Usually little things like that…unburned toast, which with his toaster was by no means a sure thing, and shirts hot from the dryer were enough to make him feel good about his day. But not today. Feeling thoroughly miserable, for reasons he couldn’t quite define, he put on his winter coat and went to work.

Pam was already there when he got in. She was in one of her bubbly moods today, wearing her pink sweater, her cheeks still pink from the cold. Jim could barely look at her. He forced a smile, and said, "Hi."

"Check your E-mail, "Pam said laughing.

Jim sat down and logged into his computer.

From: Mscott

Sent: January 10, 2006 8:06 AM

To: Jhalpert

Subject: Fun! Fun! Fun!

To all employees of Dunder Mifflin Scranton Branch

It’s time for our First Quarter camaraderie event!

Date: Wednesday January 18, 2006

Time: Wednesday afternoon until…whenever!

Please bring the following:

Rubber soled shoes

Bathing suit

Toothbrush

Ski mask

I am not at liberty to divulge any of the exciting details, but trust me…it will be Fun! Fun! Fun! Guests are invited, so bring that significant or otherwise other.

Michael Scott

Regional Manager

Dunder Mifflin Scranton

Jim couldn’t help but laugh, and some of his depression lifted. Michael’s camaraderie events were even worse, if possible, than his parties. Last year, Michael had reserved half of the Idle Hour Bowling Lanes, and they had all gone bowling. Michael had shown up in a custom bowling shirt, with his own shoes and ball, and had proceeded to bowl a 53. Dwight had pitched a fit about wearing rental shoes because of the germs and had almost gotten them all thrown out. Meredith had gotten plastered despite the fact that the only alcohol was cheap watered down beer. It was suspected that she had somehow brought her own. Phyllis had dropped a bowling ball on her foot, but fortunately nothing was broken. She had spent the rest of the evening with her foot in a bucket of ice water. Roy had bowled a 245, to his own 147, because it turned out that he belonged to a league. Even Pam had beaten him, with a 152, which she had never let him forget. The food had been horrible; greasy pizza and stale nachos. Michael and Dwight had practically come to blows over the right method of scoring the last three frames. Toby had ruled in favor of Dwight, because he was actually correct, and Michael had scowled at both of them for the rest of the evening. At one point, Michael had tried to give some sort of a motivational speech about bowling over the competition, but there was so much noise because of the league bowlers on the other side of the lanes, that nobody heard a word he said. That had actually been the best part of the evening.

But this…mystery event had all of the makings of a Michael Scott classic. He looked at Pam and made a face. They met in the break room over coffee and tea, to speculate on what possible event could incorporate all of the items they were requested to bring.

"Maybe it’s a pool party," suggested Jim.

"In January?"

"Hmmm…I know…it’s a pajama party!"

Pam shook her head; "Pajamas aren’t on the list."

"Ah...but it won’t matter that we don’t have pajamas, because we’ll all be in disguise with the ski masks."

"Right. Like we wouldn’t recognize naked Kevin, even in a ski mask!"

"Or Michael."

"Or Dwight!"

"Ewww, " they chorused.

Pam sobered, "Actually Roy is really annoyed because we were supposed to be going away on Friday and now we have to postpone it until next Friday."

"Oh? Where are you going?"

"Skiing in the Poconos."

"Sounds nice...for how long?"

"A week."

"Nice." A whole week with no Pam at the reception desk. January just kept getting worse and worse, "So is Roy planning to come? To the naked pajama pool party, that is."

"Well, he didn’t want to…you know he hates these company things, but Darryl told him attendance is mandatory."

"Yeah," Jim mused, "Katie will probably hate it too, but what can you do?"

"Katie?"

"Sure. The memo said that guests were invited, so…"

"Oh...of course, but I thought that you two weren’t…had…"

"The rumors of our breakup have been greatly exaggerated, " Jim intoned.

"Oh! Well…that’s great. I mean, you two are such a great couple. You know, we should double date...the four of us…that would be really…"

"Great?" he smiled, "Sure...why not?"

"Hey," Pam said, studying her ring, nervously, "You never claimed your favor. From the bet!"

"Oh...that’s right."

"So...what is it? Yesterday you seemed so…"

"I want one of those Italian heroes from that place with the good bread tomorrow for lunch."

"Oh." Pam looked puzzled, "That’s it?"

"That’s it."

"That’s not much of a favor."

"Get me double provolone. It costs extra."

"Ah. Well, your wish is my command. I guess we’d better get back."

Back at his desk, Jim decided that now was a good a time as any to bite the bullet. He dialed Katie’s cel phone.

"Hey Katie, it’s me. How are you doing?"

"Yeah. It was. I had a great time."

"Me too."

"I’m really sorry about that. But it was either that or wear my 76ers tee shirt to work."

He looked up and saw Pam staring at him with an odd look on her face. As soon as she saw him she smiled and went back to her computer.

"Hey, listen Katie, how would you like to come to a naked pajama pool party next Wednesday night?"

Jan 15, 2006

Jim stepped into the elevator on Monday morning. Before the door closed, he heard a familiar voice calling, "Yo! Dude!" He pushed the door open button and in came Steve, the heavyset vending machine guy wheeling a handcart full of boxes. "Dude," he said once more, this time as greeting.

"Hey Steve. Is that stuff for us?"

"Nah. Vance Refrigeration. Why? You running low? Need some more a those onion chips for your girlfriend?"

"She’s not my girlfriend. She just asked me to ask you for the onion ones. That’s all."

"Sure, Dude. Whatever you say. Anyway, we’re due to come to you guys on Wednesday."

"Cool. Wednesday’s perfect, as a matter of fact. Listen, I’ve got ten bucks for you, if you can do me a favor."

"Oh yeah? What kinda favor?"

Jim explained his plan to Steve. In honor of the mysterious Camaraderie event, Jim had something special planned. Berta, the AD of the documentary, had assured Jim that the camera crew would be around all day Wednesday in order to capture every moment of whatever Michael had planned. And since the camera crew enjoyed Jim’s pranks as much as he did, they would be sure to tape it.

"Which one’s Dwight? That goofy lookin’ one with the weird hair?"

"Yep. That’s him in a nutshell."

"That guy’s an idiot. Sure, I’ll do it. Just get me the stuff by 9:15. Cause I got rounds to do."

"No problem. See you Wednesday."

The elevator stopped and Steve headed towards Vance Refrigeration and Jim to Dunder Mifflin. His mood was definitely good. The past weekend with Katie had been a lot of fun. They had seen the new Harry Potter movie, and he had taken her out for Chinese food, at a place near Jim’s house that made very good beef with broccoli. They had slept late on Sunday, and then Jim had left, and gone over to his sister’s house for dinner and to play with his nephew, Davie. It was a good weekend, with no pressure. Jim was beginning to think that maybe getting back together with Katie wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Until he walked into the office and saw Pam, and his heart gave that all too familiar thump. He leaned over her desk and whispered, "Hey, I saw Steve this morning. They’re delivering here Wednesday."

"That’s perfect."

"Now comes the tricky part. Phase two."

"Are you sure phase two is necessary?"

"Absolutely…it’s essential to the whole gag."

"Okay. Good luck."

Jim sat down at his desk, and looked over his messages. Dwight came in and started arranging the items on his desk into a more perfect configuration. He lined his bobbleheads up just so, and arranged his pens and pencils neatly in his perforated cup holder. He carefully straightened his Dwight Schrute nameplate. It was a morning ritual that usually never failed to irritate Jim, no end. But this morning, it made him smile. Not since the first time he had encased Dwight’s stapler in Jell-O, did he have a plan that afforded him quite this much glee.

"Morning Dwight. Cold enough for ya?"

Dwight just glared at him. This was also part of their morning ritual. Jim stood up, clearing his throat to make sure Dwight noticed. He carefully removed his suit jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. He then picked up the morning newspaper he had brought from home, and went into the men’s room. He made sure to stay in there long enough to read the entire sports section. As he was coming out, Dwight was coming in, USA Today in hand. Jim looked at Dwight, specifically at his jacket, and opened his mouth as if to say something, but changed his mind, and just shook his head instead, and walked back to his desk. He put his jacket back on and sat down. He made a face at Pam and got to work, answering his messages.

Three more times that morning, Jim got up, removed his jacket and draped it over his chair before going to the men’s room. One of those time he did actually have to pee, but that part was not essential to the plan.

Finally after lunch, Dwight could stand it no longer. After Jim returned to his desk and put his jacket back on and sat down, Dwight slid his chair back so that he was even with Jim’s and said, "Question. I couldn’t help but notice that you have been taking your jacket off each time you go to the men’s room."

"That’s not a question, Dwight."

"I was getting to the question. Why?"

Jim looked surprised, "What…you mean you didn’t read the article? I just assumed that you…well never mind. I’m sure it will be fine."

"What article?" Dwight demanded.

"The one in USA Today, the health section. Some time last week. I read it yesterday at my sister’s house."

"I do read USA Today. Especially the Science and Health section. But I don’t recall any article relating to jackets."

"Well, I’m sure you still have it at home."

Dwight looked aghast, "No I don’t! I’ve already recycled last week’s papers."

"Oh, man. I only wish I could be as concientious as you are, Dwight. You are a true friend of the environment."

"But what about the article? "Dwight hissed.

"Oh, that. Well, there were these three men…salesman I think, for a small company in Albuquerque, that leases copier machines."

"Like Xerox?"

"Yes. Exactly like Xerox, only that’s not relevant to the story."

"Oh. Of course. Go on."

"Anyway...all three of them died suddenly of encephalitis."

"Encephalitis…that sounds serious."

"Well, they died, Dwight. It doesn’t get any more serious than that."

"You’re right. What caused it?"

"Well, here’s the thing. They did this huge investigation, and it turns out that all three men had the habit of wearing their suit jackets into the men’s room."

"Go on."

"And the cause of their encephalitis? Jacket germs."

"Jacket germs? That’s ridiculous. There’s no such thing…is there?"

"Suits, especially suits made of a wool polyester blend, are, literally, germ magnets."

"My suit is a wool polyester blend."

"Really? It’s very nice. I’ve always liked that brown/gold thing you’ve got going on."

"Thank you. You know…I always hang my jacket on the hook behind the stall door."

Jim shook his head sadly, "The very worst place...well, according to this article. But still, it’s really nothing to worry about. The chances of getting encephalitis from your jacket are at least 10,000 to one. Well, unless, of course, you go to the bathroom more than, say, three times a day."

"I go much more often than that. I have a very small bladder."

"Oh? I never noticed."

"Typical. You are so unobservant."

"Well, anyway, ever since I read that article, I’ve been leaving my jacket on my chair. It’s stupid, I know, but I just can’t take that chance."

"It’s only stupid to take chances with your health."

"Well, thank you, Dwight."

"Say…why are you being so nice to me? Telling me about the article, and all."

"Because I care, Dwight. Because I care."

"We should warn Michael!"

"I already did, this morning. It’s covered."

The next time Dwight got up to go to the bathroom, he took off his jacket and left it draped on his chair. As soon as he was gone, Jim got up and searched it. Sure enough, Dwight’s wallet was in his breast pocket. Jim left it there, of course, but turned to Pam and mouthed, "Bingo."

Disclaimer: In this chapter I have stolen various snippets of dialog from The Booze Cruise. I am not ashamed.

January 18, 2006

Plunk. The last nickel dropped into the slot and Dwight’s wallet fell into the retrieval bin of the vending machine. Angrily he snatched it out and opened it, expecting to find all of his money gone, at the very least. But instead, there were several additional singles, enough to buy back his remaining personal items, at no cost to himself, except for his pride and dignity, of course. He glared at the cameraman who just happened to have been filming in the break room this morning, when Dwight had discovered all of his stuff in the vending machine. The cameraman just stared back blandly, as he always did.

Meanwhile, back at the reception desk, Pam and Jim were laughing over the success of Jim’s most elaborate prank to date. Berta came over and asked them if they would do something a bit unusual…a joint talking head, discussing Michael’s mystery camaraderie event scheduled for later that day. Yesterday, they had devised a new theory, involving bank robbery and sewers, and Berta wanted it on tape. Still giddy from the prank, they agreed, and taped a hilarious interview. Berta shook her head in wonder. Those crazy mixed-up kids…they had absolutely no idea how they appeared on tape together. Berta told Phil, one of the cameraman, that whatever happened today or tonight, one camera must always be on Jim. Berta had instincts and her gut told her that tonight was going to be important.

"So...good old Lake Wallenpaupack. I must admit, I’ve never seen it in the winter," commented Jim at the reception desk when Roy left to go back downstairs, after Michael’s presentation.

"We take the Waverunners there all the time," said Pam, "but not in January."

"Have you ever been on one of those cruises?"

"No. Have you?"

"Yeah, actually my sister had her engagement party on the Lake Wallenpaupack Princess, or whatever it’s called. It was fun. They have a band and dancing and pretty good food. Of course my sister spent the whole night throwing up, so maybe it wasn’t all that fun for her."

"Oh no. Seasickness sucks."

"Yeah, well," Jim grinned, "She wasn’t seasick, if you know what I mean…but don’t tell anybody. It’s kind of a family secret."

"Oops," said Pam, "My lips are sealed."

Jim turned and saw Phil and said, "And that goes for you too, guys. That’s off the record. I didn’t realize you were here." Phil nodded. The camera crew was good about things like that.

Back at his desk, Jim suddenly remembered that he had better call Katie and let her know the plan. They were leaving right after work, so she would have to meet him here. At least she could forget the ski mask and the bathing suit. Hanging up the phone, Jim realized what the fundamental problem was with his and Katie’s relationship. He really liked her when he was with her, but tended to completely forget about her when she wasn’t around. Like all day today. It wasn’t going to work out, he suddenly understood, no matter how hard he tried. He thought about this cruise tonight, with Pam and Roy, together, and himself with Katie, and the effort that it would take to hide his feelings all evening, from all involved, and he suddenly wished that the damn ship would sink right now, like the Titanic, before they had to get on it.

But there was no such luck. Katie arrived at Dunder Mifflin right at five, and he kissed her hello, and opened his car door for her, and asked polite questions about her day, just like the best boyfriend ever. And the ship was there, in one piece, lights blazing, and Captain Jack welcoming them aboard, and Michael dubbing them the Professor and Ginger, and there was really nothing to do but go on with the show. Pam and Roy were right behind them, and they found a table together in the relative warmth of the main cabin.

Jim excused himself for a moment to go out to the bow, as he had a bet going with Phil the cameraman about how long it would take Michael to declare himself "King of the World." Luckily it only took him ten minutes, as it was damn cold outside on the deck. He got back to the table to find Pam and Katie chatting enthusiastically, while Roy looked on indulgently. Pam was telling Katie the story about Dwight and the vending machine, and they all laughed, and Roy gave him a high five. Jim noticed that Pam had left out any mention of her own part in the prank, causing Jim to wonder, not for the first time, exactly what Pam did tell Roy about their friendship.

Michael and Captain Jack were vying for the attention of the crowd, but they were easy to ignore. The talk at the "cool table, " turned to High School. Jim knew that Roy had been some hot shot football star back in the day, but he was surprised to hear that Katie had been a cheerleader, though if he had actually thought about it, it made perfect sense. On the other hand, he wasn’t at all surprised to hear that Pam had been an "artsy fartsy art nerd." He would have liked to have seen her in her turtlenecks and long hair. He himself had been a bit of an odd duck in high school. A basketball jock, who didn’t hang with the jocks and cheerleader crowd, but preferred the drama club, and had even been in a couple of plays. A bit of a class clown, in a quiet way, he had friends in a variety of cliques. By the time his hair grew out and he reached his full height at the end of his senior year in high school, he could have had his choice of cheerleaders, but the girl he took to his senior prom was actually an "artsy fartsy nerd" named Sandy. Unfortunately she had gone away to Berkley after that summer and disappeared from his life. Still it would be nice to think that, wherever she was, she had turned out to be like Pam.

Now what the hell was Michael doing? Some sort of bizarre dance in the middle of the dance floor. Good old Michael. He felt sorry for Brenda, the poor girl that Jan had sent from Corporate. Jan, at least, knew how to reign Michael in to some extent, but Brenda was totally out of her depth. The party had begun to get very loud, and it had gotten very warm in the cabin. Katie and Roy were chatting away like they had known each other forever, and Jim was trying very hard to look anywhere but at Pam. Pam also seemed uncomfortable. Finally she got up and offered to make a beer run. The warehouse guys were doing something called snorkel shots, and Roy got up to investigate, leaving Jim and Katie alone at the table for a moment. "That Roy is really nice, don’t you think?" Katie asked, "I can’t believe he remembered me from High School."

Jim had a feeling that there was something he was supposed to say in response to that, but he didn’t have the energy, and instead mumbled, "Uh huh."

"It’s funny that Pam used to be an art nerd. You know, if she fixed herself up a little bit, she’d be really pretty." Jim didn’t even try to respond to that remark.

"What’s up with you tonight? You’ve hardly spoken two words to me all evening."

Jim shrugged. He was starting to feel really claustrophobic in that cabin. "Well, you seem to be having a good time," he said, finally.

"I am, but no thanks to you. Look…Roy is doing a snorkel shot now." Jim saw Pam, returning with the two beers, asking Roy about something, but Roy was caught up in the moment, and Pam walked away. Katie was also a part of the crowd chanting for Darryl who was next in line for the snorkel. Jim saw Pam grab her coat and head for the deck, and he did the same, hoping that Katie wouldn’t notice.

It was very cold out on the deck, but beautiful in the moonlight. The cold air felt good after the heat of the cabin, and it woke Jim up, and he could think clearly for the first time all evening. He and Pam made some joke about Darryl, and Pam said, "Sometimes I just don’t get Roy. I mean…I don’t know."

Jim had learned a long time ago, not to respond to Pam’s complaints about Roy, but merely to listen. He looked down at her, so beautiful, vulnerable and confused in the moonlight, and it suddenly hit him…My God…this is the moment! He and Pam were alone...at least he thought so. Phil had been on him like a leech all evening, but Jim didn’t see him now. This was the moment he’d been dreaming of for months, and he knew just what to say…he opened his mouth to speak the words.

"So what’s it like dating a cheerleader?" Pam asked, and for one brief moment he didn’t know what she was talking about. Then, my God…Katie, his girlfriend, sitting inside, forgotten again. He chuckled reflexively in response to Pam’s question, but his mind was racing. I’m sorry, Katie, he thought, but this is my life. This is the woman I love. It’s not fair, but it’s the way things are. He looked at Pam, looking up at him, almost expectantly...was she waiting for him to speak? He licked his lips; his mouth was so dry. Maybe he shouldn’t say anything, but just kiss her. Words would just confuse things. Or would they be better? Somehow he was frozen between words and action. He’d practiced this in his mind so many times…why couldn’t he speak? Jim the salesman, never at a loss for words, and the most important words of his life were stuck in his throat. He felt the precious seconds ticking away.

"I’m cold." Pam smiled up at him, apologetically, and she was gone.

Jim stood at the rail staring out at the dark lake. Damn it to hell! What had stopped him from speaking? Or kissing her, or something, anything? Was it Katie? Or did he just panic? He felt a terrible sense of loss, as though an opportunity had slipped away, never to be recovered. But that was silly. He’d do it. He’d make another bet…he’d get her alone some time, somewhere. And this time he wouldn’t screw it up. But right now, he desperately needed a drink.

Slumped over the bar, he waited for his beer. He’d had three in rapid succession since returning to the cabin. Back at their table, Pam and Katie were talking. He didn’t see Roy. At the bar, Michael and Captain Jack were having some sort of a leadership pissing contest. Jim couldn’t have cared less. At one point somebody asked him who he would save in a shipwreck, and he looked at Pam sitting there and answered "The Customer," because he couldn’t say what he really felt. He could never say what he really felt. Michael was saying some corporate gobbledygook about making choices and deciding to act: in Jim’s slightly drunken state, he felt that the words were directed right at him. It was time to make a choice and time to act. Roy came over and drunkenly draped his arm around Captain Jack, asking him some question about the Navy. Jim stood up straight and began to walk towards the stern of the ship, towards Pam. He caught sight of Phil, lurking behind a pillar, and told him, "I’d save the receptionist…I just wanted to clear that up." Phil nodded and gave him a thumbs up, and began to follow him with the camera as he walked over to Pam, sitting next to Katie. Katie looked up at him expectantly, but he didn’t even see her. He leaned over to ask Pam to come out back with him. But he was interrupted by the squeak of feedback from the microphone. It was Roy.

Jim stood and stared in shock and disbelief, as Roy asked Pam if June 10th was an acceptable date for their wedding. Apparently it was, as Pam and Katie squealed, and hugged, and Pam got up and ran towards Roy, the dark horse in the equation...the one who had finally, unexpectedly, shaken up the status quo. Jim was numb…he felt as though he had fallen into Lake Wallenpaupack, and all around him was cold and dark. Katie was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear her. He slumped down onto the bench. After a moment, he found that he could move again, and even smile and laugh. He went over and hugged Pam and shook Roy’s hand. Anything to hide his pain. But there were some things he couldn’t hide. When Katie wanted to dance, he couldn’t, he just couldn’t, so he begged off and instead brought her out on the stern deck. They stood there looking through the door at the couples dancing, Pam and Roy prominent among them. Pam and Roy kissed, the happy couple, and Katie squealed in sympathetic glee. "Do you think that will ever be us? "She asked, completely oblivious to his pain.

It was all he could do to answer her civilly, "No."

"What’s wrong with you? Why did you even bring me here tonight?"

"I don’t know. Let’s break up." Those words, apparently, he had no trouble with…they came out cold and cutting like a knife blade.

"What?"

Jim looked up and saw Phil taping him. He waved him away. "Go away." He said, coldly furious. Phil decided it might be prudent to take his camera elsewhere, and went to help cover Michael, who seemed determined to cause as much chaos on the ship as possible.

"Katie. I’m sorry. I really am. But I just can’t do this. I just can’t be with you any more."

"But why?"

Jim shook his head. He couldn’t talk about it. It was horribly unfair to Katie, he knew. She deserved the truth, but he literally could not talk about it. Not to her. All he could do was repeat, "I’m sorry."

"You are such a bastard!" Katie declared and went back inside, slamming the door behind her.

Jim couldn’t argue. She was absolutely right. Other couples were trying to get in through the doorway, so he went inside, also and sat by himself on the other side of the cabin. After a while he couldn’t stand sitting there with Katie looking at him tearfully from across the aisle.

He went outside to the deck overlooking the bow, but even there he wasn’t alone. Michael and Phil were there; Michael bound up with plastic fasteners, Captain Jack’s idea of a brig. Phil melted away into the background, the way he was trained to do, and Jim pretty much forgot about him. Michael was chastened, humiliated, all of his pretensions stripped away, and for once he seemed just like another guy. Jim found himself telling him about Pam. It was weird…all evening Jim had felt like a person under an evil spell, unable to say the right things to the right people, and compelled instead to say the wrong things to the wrong people. And telling Michael about his feelings for Pam was definitely the latter. But oddly enough, Michael responded with sincere advice, telling Jim not to give up. Maybe it wasn’t the best advice, but it was real, and gave Jim a faint glimmer of hope.

As the ship headed back to shore, Jim went looking for Katie, since he had to drive her back to Dunder Mifflin. Maybe he could talk to her now, though he didn’t know how he would ever begin to explain. But when he got back into the cabin, Kevin came up to him and told him that his fiancée, Stacey, was going to take Katie back to Dunder Mifflin for her car. She’d been sitting with them for the past half-hour or so. Katie refused to even look at him, so he thanked Kevin and walked down the gangplank, and off the ship…alone.

January 19, 2006

From: Jhalpert

Sent: January 19, 2006 8:50 AM

To: Mscott, Tkerr

Subject: Absence

Dear Michael,

I will be unable to make it into work today. I think I caught a cold on the ship last night. I have a sore throat and bad cough. My brother in law is a doctor and he’s going to give me something so I should be able to make it in tomorrow. I haven’t used any of my sick days so far this year. Sorry for any inconvenience.

Jim Halpert

From: Jhalpert

Sent: January 19, 2006 8:55 AM

To: Pbeesly

Subject: Absence

Hi Pam,

I just wanted to let you know that I’m not coming in today. I’ve got a bad cold. I wasn’t feeling well last night, either, so it’s better that I stay home. I’ll probably be back in tomorrow.

I guess I won’t be seeing you before you go away to the Poconos, so have a good trip. And once again, congratulations.

Jim

From: Mscott

Sent: January 19, 2006 9:15 AM

To: Jhalpert

Subject: Re: Absence

Jimbo!

Sorry to hear you’re sick. I have a scratchy throat myself from that stupid ship. Ryan’s going out to get me some cough drops, and some orange juice. Personally, I think that Dunder Mifflin should sue that cruise line for misrepresenting their cruises as corporate friendly. It’s ridiculous that idiots like that "Captain Jack" should be allowed to put Regional Managers outside in the "brig." I could get pneumonia!

But Jimbo…we really need you here tomorrow. It’s Spring Cleanup day. A little early. My idea. Anyway, I need 100% participation. No slackers.

It’s nice to know that I was able to help you out a little bit, last night. If you ever want to talk about the Pam situation, you can always come to me. Anytime. That’s what Regional Managers are for.

See you tomorrow!

Michael Scott

Regional Manager

Dunder Mifflin Scranton Branch

From: Tkerr

Sent: January 19, 2006 9:17 AM

To: Jhalpert

Subject: Re: Absence

Dear Jim,

Don’t worry about being absent. You have hardly taken any sick days, in all the time you’ve worked here. Feel free to take tomorrow too, if you need it. The important thing is to take care of yourself.

I hear it was pretty cold out there on the lake.

I hope you feel better soon.

Toby

From: Pbeesly

Sent: January 19, 2006 9:50 AM

To: Jhalpert

Subject: Re: Absence

Hi Jim,

Wow...that was quite a night, wasn’t it? I’m sorry to hear that you’re sick. I noticed that you were pretty quiet last night. We never got to see you and Katie after the cruise was over to say goodnight. Roy and I were practically the last people off the ship, we were having such a good time.

I am going nuts today! Can you believe that the wedding is only five months away? I called my Mom last night when we got home, even though it was late. She was so excited. And now I’ve got to call bridesmaids and get a dress and a band and a place! I’ve got a ton of phone calls to make. I really am going to have to plan most of this wedding at the office...there’s just no time!

If you’re here tomorrow, you’ll see me. Roy and I don’t leave for the Poconos until after work. And then we’ll be back on the 30th. I’m kind of sorry that we took this week off, because now we’ll only have one week available for our honeymoon. Our honeymoon! Can you imagine?

Also, I hate to say it, but if you’re not dying you’d better get in here tomorrow. Michael has declared tomorrow Spring clean up day. (In January!) And you know how he gets when people are absent on Fridays anyway. Just a word to the wise.

Anyway, I hope you feel better and I hope to see you tomorrow.

Pam

PS: Dwight is still taking off his jacket every time he goes to the men’s room. I guess it hasn’t dawned on him yet that you made that whole thing up.

PPS: Your desk looks very lonely without you.

From: Jhalpert

Sent: January 19, 2006 1:30 PM

To: LegalDan

Subject: Life sucks and then you die

Question: How many lawyers does it take to screw in a light bulb?

Answer: None. They’d rather leave their clients in the dark.

Hey Dan,

I’m home today, playing hooky from work, so I thought I’d write and say hi. How’s law school treating you? The semester is almost over, right? I called in sick today, because calling in hungover is considered crass. Anyway, I am having a very pleasant day off watching daytime television and drinking beer. This is so much better than working, I may just do this for the rest of my life.

So, we had this crazy office event last night. A booze cruise in the middle of Lake Wallenpaupack. In January. Well, you know what my office is like, so what else can you expect? So anyway, I brought Katie...I think I told you about her, right? Hot redhead. Who I sort of broke up with a couple of months ago, and who I sort of got back together again with last week. And my friend Pam was there with her fiancé, Roy. I think I might have mentioned her.

Anyway, at one point I ended up outside on the deck with Pam, not exactly sure how that happened, and well, you know me, old smooth talker Jim, out there alone in the moonlight with a pretty girl…you can just imagine what happened. Yep, you guessed it…absolutely nothing! Once again I totally wimped out. But no problem...there’s always next year, right? Wrong. Seems that Roy has a different plan. He and Pam finally set a wedding date last night…June 10, 2006. Kind of a surprise for all of us. Unfortunately, I believe that I just may be out of town that day. Oh, and I also broke up with Katie…again.

Anyway, Mark keeps this bottle of vodka in the freezer, in case of emergencies. So I borrowed it, because if ever there was an emergency, last night was one. But not to worry...stuff tasted like lighter fluid. Really cold lighter fluid. So I switched back to beer. That’s much more my speed.

And I’m doing all right. Totally fucked up, but hanging in there. And the good news is that now I’m a free man. I mean really free, without this Pam thing hanging over my head. That’s all over now. Done. So anyway, I just wanted to keep you in the loop. Talk to you soon.

Jim

From: LegalDan

Sent: January 19, 2006 2:00 PM

To: Jhalpert

Subject: Re: Life sucks and then you die

So let me get this straight. Last night you wimped out with Pam and broke up with Katie. So that means that in one evening you managed to be both a pussy and a dick. That’s quite a feat…I commend you.

Jim Halpert, you fucking idiot! Why didn’t you call me? Jesus Christ, man…what is the point of having a best friend if you don’t fucking call him when you need him? I’m stuck here in the middle of exams, or I would be there, you know that. But I can talk on the phone. I can’t believe you didn’t call me.

So, our lady of the perpetual engagement has finally made a move. I am so sorry, man. I know what she means to you. I wish I had some great advice to offer. Well, beside the advice I always offer you, which is to get out of that place...transfer to Stamford, or Albany or Outer Mongolia. Get your life back. Move on. Yadda yadda yadda...you’ve heard it a million times.

Man…I would love to meet this chick. She must be really something to turn you inside out like this. Though, if she’s anything like my Judy, I totally understand.

Okay...I’m going to be the big brother you never had, here…okay? First of all, put down the goddamned beer. You don’t drink worth a damn...you’re just going to make yourself sick. And I should know…I lived with you for four years, remember? You have got to be at your best tomorrow when you walk into that office. You don’t want her to know, right? Tell her a joke, smile, laugh. You’ve been playing the game for three years now...you know how to do it. Then get your resume up on monster or wherever and get the hell out of there. ASAP.

As soon as this semester is done, I’ll be in town. We’ll go out and raise hell. Just like we never did in the old days. And if things are bad tonight…call me, dammit! I mean it.

Dan

From: Jhalpert

Sent: January 19, 2006 8:00 PM

To: LegalDan

Subject: Re: Re: life sucks, etc.

Okay, you bastard, that’s it. You are officially fired as my best friend. Go pick up your paycheck at the main desk. That line about being a pussy and a dick made me laugh…right in the middle of my self-pity party. That is not allowed. But I guess it means I’m probably going to live, right?

I’ve been asleep for the last few hours, and I feel much better. I think I’ll go out and get some dinner and rent some god-awful tearjerker movie, and by tomorrow I’ll be fine. Pam won’t be around all next week, so that will give me time to get my act together once I make it through tomorrow. Thanks for your advice. Maybe this time I’ll actually take it. I doubt it though. But don’t worry…someday when you’re my lawyer, I won’t listen to you then, either.

Thanks for everything. I mean it. See you when you get back to Scranton.

Jim