He was such a coward.

It wasn’t an epiphany or anything, he was well aware of the fact. Still, it was a hard thing to swallow, especially when he realized it in the act, like he did now. He wanted to be strong, or bold, or whatever the opposite of being what he was right now was, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t face her directly, not after this length of time, and especially not after he hadn’t gotten the picture from her.

It had been a little over a week since the thing, their first raised-voices, full-on argument, and they had barely talked since. She had done what she always did, got quiet and pulled back into herself. She didn’t laugh, didn’t smile, and basically had just walled herself off completely.

He could see it through her wide-eyes. It was as if she was absorbing all the blame, ill feelings, and anger of the argument and then bottling it up inside of herself. Not talking to anybody, just silently suffering alone.

He hated it. He hated it more then anything else. She acted like that after Roy and her fought, but he knew how to deal with that. He would make a simple joke, make her laugh, and she would flash that smile of hers that made him warm and tight in the chest. Ten minutes later, she was a different person. The worn-whiteness of her face would be pink and alive.

But now, he was the cause of her unhappiness, and he could only hope that he could fix it. It was just so damn confusing with her sometimes though. She was his best friend, and he felt like he knew her so well. But, when it came to Roy and their relationship, he was lost. It was like navigating a minefield while wearing a blindfold.

He was never sure of his step, what words might upset her. Usually, he just avoided the topic of Roy altogether, they both did, but their argument had involved Roy. It was just like the morning after the roof, when he had gotten frustrated with her deliberate denial of what it had meant. And now, once again, in a flash of anger, he had accidentally revealed a little of what he really thought of Roy and how he treated her. Her defense of Roy, of her choices, only served to make him feel worse, and strain their friendship further.

What was worse, he saw the way that her face lit up when flowers came through the door, and how her shoulders slumped when she passed them along to their beloved owner. How she had gotten more and more frustrated the whole of Valentine’s Day with Roy, but had said nothing. How she was suffering, but wouldn’t come over to talk to him because of their argument.

That was why this had to work. Their friendship was too important to him to just let it wilt in silence and awkwardness. He tried not to have expectations, or at least any grand ones, he just wanted to see her smile again, and maybe laugh. Anything that could start them back towards each other. Without her, it felt like the oxygen had been slowly sucked out the office, everything was more difficult and harder to do. Not to mention how it followed him home…

Finally, she got up from her desk and walked towards the bathroom. He noticed that she looked over at him quickly as she passed Dwight’s desk, but wouldn’t hold his gaze. He looked over at the clock, 4:55. It was time to make his move.

He quickly stood up, and slung the strap of his bag over his shoulder. His fingers slid down it and took the card out of the side pocket, and held it low against his leg. As he glanced down at it, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of how much trouble it had taken to make it.

He walked briskly towards the coat rack next to Reception, and with a look around the office to make sure nobody saw, put the card on Pam’s desk. He grabbed his coat and walked towards the door.

He fought with his coat sleeve as he made his way towards the elevator. His bag had tangled up with it somehow. He hip-checked the down button, and waited for the doors to open. A couple seconds later, there was a ding and they parted.

He shuffled on, and turned around to face the doors. They slowly and creakily began to close. That was when he heard it.

“Jim, wait!”

Despite his surprise at the words, and especially their tone, his hand was already gripping the half-closed door. They jumped back into the wall.

She came around the corner now, and into his view. Her curly hair cascading down her shoulders, and her face flushed. That wasn’t what he really noticed though; it wasn’t what made him stop and stare.

She was smiling widely.

Two Weeks Ago (Feb. 1)

“All I’m saying is, how can you be sure?” He leaned back in his chair and looked at Dwight.

“Jim, don’t be ridiculous. I watch each episode multiple times, and it’s impossible.”

“Mmm-hm. Or is it so impossible, that it’s possible? Like a twist?” Dwight’s face suddenly clouded with confusion. He had to remember to use Wikipedia more often against him.

“No. There is no way that Starbuck is a Cylon.”

Just as he was about to glance over at his computer screen and the Battlestar Galatica entry, he heard the door to Michael’s office open behind him.

“Jimboni, need you in the office. Big news.” Even though his back was turned to him, he could tell by the tone of Michael’s voice that he was barely containing his excitement.

“Alright,” he answered back and turned in his chair to get up. He automatically looked over at Pam, whose eyes and smirk were already on him. He put on the saddest face he could manage and mouthed, “help me” to her. Her giggle traveled all the way from Reception, and he entered Michael’s office with a smile.

Michael started talking almost immediately.

“So, first of the month, and I’ve got the final sales numbers from January.” He held up a sheet of paper and waved it around like a flag. “And guess what?”

“Uh, I don’t know, what?”

“Ha! I’ll tell you. You, my friend, for the first time in, uh, a long time, outsold Dwight. I mean, not just you, but the first time anyone has outsold that geekazoid. You were the top-seller in the entire branch!” Michael smiled, and rubbed his hands together.

He had to admit he was a little surprised, but not completely shocked. He knew that it wasn’t a coincidence that his best month of sales coincided with the month in which Pam had gone to the Poconos with Roy on vacation for a week.

“So….I’m thinking, party! Well, actually ice cream social.” Michael beamed over at him.

“Wow, ice cream social. That is an idea. But…I think—

--Mint Chocolate Chip! Right? We’ll get sprinkles, cherries, uh, nuts? I dunno. The works though.” Michael interrupted.

He sighed and tried to figure a way out of this. He didn’t want an ice cream social in his honor, which would inevitably lead to a speech from Michael, and possibly deflated tires from Dwight.

“I think maybe, you know, because of the booze cruise…we should go easy on the parties, Michael.” He could see that Michael was about to dispute his definition of the booze cruise, so he decided to change course, “I mean, that way, your birthday party will be bigger than ever.”

Michael was silent for a moment before he responded. “You, Jim Halpert, are a true friend. I mean, I know I messed up with the whole Pam love thing…”

“Nope, let’s not…go back to that. Okay?” He felt his entire body tense at the two words next to each other, and the fact that they were coming out of Michael’s mouth.

“Cool, cool. Alright so no party, but you should be rewarded for your contribution to Dunder-Mifflin.” Michael’s eyes scanned his desk, desperately trying to find something. They quickly did.

“Got it.” Michael picked up the Dunder-Mifflin Scranton newsletter that he made every month, by himself, and held it up to him. “Bam! Article about you on the front, and we’ll take your picture. Front page!”

He was about to protest, again, but thought better of it. Maybe, this was actually a good idea. If he could just…

“That is quite an honor, Michael. Though, do you think that instead of a photo of me, I could choose the picture that goes with the article?”

“Uh, sure Jim. If that’s what you want, you are the top seller. The man-dingo.”

His right cheek tightened in a half-smile. “Thanks. Uh, alright well I don’t want to slip behind this month, so…I’m going to get back.” He jerked his thumb towards the door and got up.

“Yup, yup, yup. Hard workin’ Jim Halpert, that’s what I call him. You get back to it.”

For a second, he wondered how to respond to that, but then stopped, and just left the office. Dwight looked ready to unload a bunch of Battlestar Galatica knowledge on him, but he wasn’t ready to hear it, there was only one person he wanted to listen to right now.

She was just hanging up the phone as he leaned against her desk and hunted for orange jellybeans.

She looked up at him and smiled, and the reason he had come over suddenly got hazy.

“What’s up? Oh. What did Michael want?” She grimaced comically for a moment, before it broke back into a smile.

He fought to keep from returning it, and leaned in conspiratorially towards her.

“Actually, it’s pretty serious. Uh, and I need your help.” He whispered, before he pulled back. He could tell from the look on her face, that she was his.

“Wha-Okay. Are you okay? I mean, is something wrong?” Her words were almost jumbled she spoke them so fast.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. But, thing is…” he finally broke into a grin, “…I need an artist.”

She shook her head at him, and held her lips in a tight line that curled at the corners. “I thought something was wrong! Oh, and sorry, but I’m no artist Jim.”

He wasn’t going to be deterred by her lack of self-confidence. “Actually, you are an artist. An awesome one in fact, and that’s why I need your help. See, I’m awesome. I’m the top-seller in the branch, and accordingly I’m looking for someone with similar awesomeness to make a picture to accompany an article about my awesomeness in the newsletter.”

Her face was a mixture of confusion and happiness. “That’s a lot of awesomeness. You’re really top seller in the branch, though? Congratulations!”

He waved his hand in front of him. “No, Pam we can discuss my awesomeness later. Right now, I need you to focus. This article is going to put me on the map here in the office, and so I need something to go with it that echoes that.”

She was back to smiling, and she leaned forward in her chair now. “Echoes? Really? Let’s leave the artistic term to the artists, shall we? Uh, but, of course I’ll do it! So…what do you want, a sketch of you or something?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘something’. It’s got to be Dunder-Mifflin related, so…I dunno, what about if you did like a drawing or sketch or painting or print or woodcarving of the building?” He raised an eyebrow at her and caught his breath. “I know it’s not that exciting, but if you do it, I’m sure it will be great.”

“Alright, picture of the building, it is. Oh, you’d better get back to your desk, Michael is at the door.” She nodded past him, and he turned to see that Michael was standing in the doorway to his office, hands grabbing the frame above him.

“Thanks, Beesly, and I expect to see some rough drafts soon, got it?” He smiled and started to walk back towards his desk.

“I’ll get right on that, Jim.” He heard her say from behind him. The fact that she was going to draw or paint something for him, even if it was just a picture of the building, made him happy.

He couldn’t wait to see it.

He kept replaying the fight, and the words they had both said, in a continuous loop in his head. Driving home, while he ate alone off his TV tray, and worst of all, in the quiet of his bed. It was all that he could think about, to the point of obsession, because it had never happened before.

He was angry for the way she had acted. How, with just a couple of words, Roy had changed her from an optimistic, excited, and smiling prospective artist, back to a self-doubting, adrift, and financially pragmatic receptionist. And how she had defended that change, how she really believed that he was right, unquestioningly and unthinkingly.

The anger had dissipated pretty quickly though, as the importance of their friendship and the hollowness that its absence created, loomed larger. He thought at first that he could use the newsletter picture as an icebreaker. That it was something that they could at least talk about, and maybe then ease back into a normal conversation, but the more he considered it, the more impossible its seemed.

Because, really, how could he go up to her and ask for the favor that she had agreed to do for him, which was also a symbol of the fight they had just had? Consequently, they didn’t talk, except for work related stuff. It had been four days, and he was going out of his mind.

Luckily, he had a plan that he thought would work. A plan he needed to work. Valentine’s Day was next Tuesday, four days away including the weekend, and on the off chance that they still weren’t talking by then, at least he’d have a reason to give her something to remind her of their friendship, and what it meant.

“Pssst! Jim, I’m ready.” Dwight leaned back against his desk, a bulging plastic grocery bag clutched in his hand, and an intense gaze framed by his glasses.

He couldn’t help it; the incredible wrongness of the entire situation prompted him to ask it. “Dwight, why are you on my desk?”

“Don’t be weird Jim. Let’s do this. I don’t want to lose the light.” Dwight suddenly stood up, and looked at him and his desk questioningly.

It took him a second to understand what he was looking for. “Oh, it’s in my car. I didn’t want to bring it into the office, uh, might ruin the surprise for everyone.” He said the last part as more of a question than a statement.

“Smart. Good. Okay, let’s go.” Without another word, Dwight briskly walked away from him, past Pam, and towards the exit.

He didn’t really have a choice, so he followed, hands in his pockets and head down. At her desk he cast a quick glance over and saw that she was eyeing him suspiciously. However, it quickly went back to intense interest in whatever was on her screen when their eyes met.

-----

It had begun to snow lightly as he entered the parking lot. Dwight was impatiently standing near the entrance, arms crossed, but still holding the grocery bag.

“Let me just get it from my car, and we’ll be good.” He paused for a moment, and thought how he could better convince Dwight to be patient, because he needed this to work. “Michael is going to love this.”

Dwight slowly smiled, the corners of his mouth curling at what he previously thought was an impossible angle. And maybe it was the snow, but if Dwight’s actions were suddenly narrated by Boris Karloff, he wasn’t going to be overly shocked.

He reached into the backseat of his car, and grabbed Mark’s camera. All he needed was one of those cheap, disposable kind, but he wanted this to seem important for Dwight.

“Alright, Dwight, let’s do this. Uh, oh..” at his words Dwight whipped out a blaze orange cap from his pocket and pulled it snugly on his head. Even so, it extended almost a foot up into the air. Though he had to admit, it accompanied his shoulder to knee, Gortex jacket well. Still that wasn’t what really tied the ensamble together.

“Dwight, is that scarf purple?”

“No, it’s mauve.” Dwight wrapped it tighter around his neck.

“Why….do you own a mauve scarf?”

“My girlfriend gave it to me for Christmas. She said it would help control my unchecked virility.”

“Wow, okay, right….” He decided to just move on….and to remember to tell this all to Pam at some point. “So did you get two good ones, like I said?” He was close to breaking at just Dwight’s clothing, but he knew that he couldn’t, even though it was exactly what he wanted.

“I did Jim. It was very difficult to procure suitable ones. Obviously, I’ve sold all my money ones during the fall.”

“Naturally.”

Dwight continued, “anyway, these are still an acceptable facsimile.” He reached into the bag and pulled out two large beets, stems attached.

“Fantastic. Okay, so I was thinking, in front of the Dunder-Mifflin sign, uh, and just hold them out on either side of you.”

Dwight nodded. “Good, good. I think Michael would want the sign in the picture, considering it’s going on the front page of the newsletter.”

He choked back a laugh. “Yeah….I agree. Michael would want that. Right okay, and a big smile for the camera, okay? We want people to know that Dunder-Mifflin employees are not only prized beet producers, but also happy.”

At his words, Dwight smiled so widely; he could see the shadow between his cheek and gums.

“And now the beets.” He gestured with his hand for Dwight to raise them up.

Quickly Dwight held each beet next to his head, on either side. He quickly focused the camera, and took as many pictures as his finger would let him. Seven seconds, and fifteen pictures later, he was sure that he had one that Pam would love.

“I think we got it Dwight, good job. This is going to be the best cover photo ever.”

“Of course it will be. Everybody loves beets. As a gift, I want you to have the big one.” Dwight swung his hand towards him, the beet swayed in the snowy breeze.

“I’m good, Dwight. Big lunch, but thanks.”

“Fine, I need to get back to work. I’ll put the beet on your desk.” Dwight turned quickly in the snow-dusted parking lot, and walked back inside.

He watched him walk back in, before he put the camera back into his car. Last year, he had only gotten Dwight’s head on his Valentine’s Day card to Pam. This year, he had gotten Dwight, a mauve scarf, and two beets. He knew that if this didn’t make her laugh, and didn’t break the freeze that had come over their friendship, nothing would.

They stared at each other in silence. He leaned up against the wall next to the elevator, with his palms flat up against it to support himself. She stood, arms wrapped around herself, with the card delicately held between two fingers.

Between them wasn’t just a week’s worth of unsaid thoughts, but an entire friendship’s worth of unspoken feelings. At least, that’s how it was on his side, but he couldn’t worry about that now. He had to focus on getting back to where they had been, and forget about anything more than that.

Because, as he looked at her now, hesitancy written all over her face, but the tantalizing shadow of a smile still on her lips, he knew it couldn’t stay like this. He didn’t want to go another day in the hazy purgatorial-like existence he’d been living in the office, only feet away from a constant reminder how much better it could be. How much happier he could be.

“Pam, I---”

Just then, the clatter of footsteps and broken conversation echoed all around them. The tension was broken and their eyes parted. It was 5:00, and everyone was leaving the office. They were about to round the corner, and come upon them…

“Jim, you forgot to sign the bottom of that sales agreement, come back to the office so we can do that.” She said it in what seemed like one breath, one burst and release of anxiety.

Years of quick thinking and pranking prepared him to act along almost instantly, despite the heat rushing from his neck to his face at her words. “Thanks, Pam. I totally forgot about that. Yeah, let’s go back and do that.” By now Stanley, Kevin, and Oscar were walking past Pam. None of them noticed their act.

She turned around and walked slowly back towards the office, shoulders almost parallel to the wall to let her co-workers pass her. She glanced back quickly at him, making sure that he was following her, before her eyes returned forward.

He had no idea what she was going to say, really. He had his hopes, of course, but the fact that she was willing to talk was all he wanted. He knew he could make this right, if she’d only let him.

It suddenly occurred to him, as he re-entered the office, that they probably wouldn’t have much time to talk, if any. It was Valentine’s Day after all, and even though he noticed Roy hadn’t gotten her anything, he was sure that he’d be up to get up her soon enough.

She didn’t stop at Reception, but kept on walking, past Dwight’s desk, and towards the break room. He looked around and saw that only Angela was still at her desk, and she was impatiently tapping her foot as her computer shut down. Pam was already through the doors when he looked back.

-----

He took a small, sharp breath before he went in. He had wanted this, had planned towards this, but that didn’t settle his nerves. As he entered, he saw that she was already sitting down, her hands in her lap, and her eyes wandering around the room.

“Hey” she said softly.

“Hey” he responded from somewhere deep in his throat.

“Um….so this card.” She picked it up off the table, and held it. Even from where he was standing, he could see the orange of Dwight’s hat on the front of it. But as he strode over to her, and sat down opposite of her at the table, the beets, scarf, and smile all become clearer. Even though he had seen it so many times he had lost count, he laughed a little.

His laugh became hers, and she turned the front of the card, and the picture, to face her. She cocked an eyebrow at him, and smiled slyly.

“Is this why Dwight put a beet on your desk last week?”

Her tone washed over him, and he let himself relax a little. “I think it’s related, yeah….oh, I’m sorry, are you jealous that Dwight gave me a beet?”

She leaned forward slightly, her necklace dangled a little, but he fought to keep his eyes on hers. “I think if Dwight ever gave me a beet, I would freak out.”

“What about a mauve scarf? I think that would, uh…” he had to stop himself, and what he wanted to say. Instead he continued to work back into their dynamic, that one he had missed so much. “…I mean, Dwight told me it helps control his” he raised his hands for air quotes, “uh, ‘unchecked virility’.”

Pam scrunched up her nose and forehead at his words, and he fell a little more in love with her. She squinted through her words, “that was the most disturbing air quotes, ever Jim. Promise me that you’ll never air quote creepy Dwight, uh well, Dwight in general to me, ever again.”

He held up his hand in surrender. “I promise Pam. I’ll remember that when it comes to Dwight’s unchecked virility you don’t want to hear about it. The, uh, unchecked virility, I mean.”

“Stop saying it!” Her tongue darted out of her mouth for just a second in disgust, and her hands flew in front of her, trying to physically get the image out of her head.

They both sat with slowly fading smiles as the silence came back to them. A reminder that they weren’t right yet, that their friendship still needed more repairing.

She spoke first. “Um, actually it was what was on the inside of the card…” He could see her swallow hard, and her eyes fixate on the card, which she had opened.

“Yeah…” He wasn’t sure what to say, because he didn’t know what she was going to say. How she would react to what he had written inside. He had been careful this time. It wasn’t like Christmas, where he had been reckless, and had written his true feelings for her. Not that he had lied, either, it was just….he had phrased things different was all.

“I’ve never really, uh, I mean not never, but….” she punctuated her stuttering with a soft self-conscious chuckle, then continued, “….what I’m trying to say is, it’s been a long time….” Her eyes darted down to the carpet, and then back over to the card that she held below the table. “And, uh…I mean, when you said, ‘you’re my best friend, and it's your friendship that gets me through the day. I come to work and go home smiling because of you.’ That’s just….” He could see that her eyes were full, and tears threatened to run down her face.

He sucked up the discomfort at having her read his own words back to him, and reached out his hand across the table to get her attention. To his surprise, she grabbed it tightly. He hoped she didn’t feel the shock that ran through him at her touch, or see the lump that had slid down his throat, or noticed how his breathing had quickened. He struggled to speak.

“Pam, I didn’t want to make you cry. It’s just, I meant that, and I know that things have sucked between us lately. I..I don’t want that, I want to be able to talk to you, and to you know, hang out with you.” He felt dangerously close to crossing a line. That he might say too much, so he pulled back a little, “…you really are my best friend, and I want to go back to that. I know what I said about the…”

She cut him off, pulled her hand from his, and dabbed at the corners of her eyes with her knuckles. “No, Jim. This is my fault. I’ve been so stupid, and I….I was mad at Roy, you know?, about the whole art thing, and then I took it out on you….”

He couldn’t stand to let her blame herself, not entirely, because he knew it wasn’t true. “Pam, no, it’s….I think we both said some things, because we were angry, and I just….I want what’s best for you is all. I’m not trying to push you or anything, but I know how great you are, and how talented you are, and that you can have more then this if you want to.” He paused at his own words, the double meaning that blazed in them for him, but would surely be lost on her. He looked over at her, and hoped he hadn’t said too much.

She had suddenly become very still, her eyes wide and still wet. She looked down at the table, almost unblinkingly. “I know Jim, you’re….my best friend too. And I know, that’s what best friends do…they, uh, want what’s best for each other. I’m just…I’m sorry and it’s been killing me not talking to you for all this time.”

Her words sent a rush of warmness through his veins. It felt like his blood had been super-heated suddenly, and the warmth of his face was causing his vision to be watery as well. It was all he ever wanted from her, really. For her to feel the same way about him as he felt about her. Well, maybe she didn’t feel completely the same way, but the fact that she missed talking to him, and that she said he was her ‘best-friend’…..especially considering she was engaged…..well, it pushed him to make things completely right.

“I’m sorry too Pam. I do want what’s best for you, but I stepped out of line.” He paused, and considered what he should say next. They had both apologized, and he knew he should break the tension. “Not quite as out of line as putting a mauve scarf with a blaze orange hat, of course…”

She broke back into a smile, and any darkness in the room was blinked out of existence. “Oh my god! I know! This is seriously….I’ve got to get a frame for this. It’s so awesome. He should really start his own clothing line. Maybe start with Wal-Mart….”

He couldn’t resist. “I dunno Pam, I’m pretty sure even for Wal-Mart the Dwight Schrute Collection would be too trashy.”

She giggled, and held her hand to her mouth. “No, what if you paired it with some blue sweatpants?”

“Oh well. Yeah, as long as they’re blue. I mean red would just be…you know, lame.”

“Speaking of lame….”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes, Jim. I’m going to talk to Michael and see what I can do about getting you ‘The Lamest Pun Dundie.”

“I thought you might like it….”

“Oh it’s great, you should definitely write Hallmark cards. But really….Beet Mine? I mean, it’s a good thing I kept reading.”

“Yeah, it is…” He didn’t mean to speak the words with such tenderness and softness, but his emotion betrayed him.

She blinked some of the wetness out of her eyes. “Yeah…” She looked up at the clock, and he did the same, it was 5:10. “Oh, I’ve got to get going, uh, Roy’s waiting so….but, really….thank you Jim. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“No, I….yeah, but I’ll see you tomorrow right?” He felt his insides twist at her mention of Roy. That she was hurrying off to be with him. Leaving the guy who had spent a week just trying to get her friendship back, so that she could be with the guy who didn’t love her enough to even send her flowers. But, he checked that, swallowed it. Maybe there would a time for that, but it wasn’t here, and it wasn’t now.

She stood up and clutched his card to her chest. “Of course. And we’ve got a lot to talk about too, I’ll refill the jellybean jar.” She smiled at him, and walked towards the door. He turned to watch her leave, but she paused at the doorway and turned.

“Good night Jim. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He smiled. “Good night Pam. Happy Valentine’s Day”