The Chips Are Down

By Jody E.

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. If they did, I would give them all a good talking to.

This story is based on very vague episode descriptions for upcoming episodes, Conflict Resolution and Casino Night, but the story itself contains no spoilers, since I have no idea what is really going to happen.

The VFW hall in Scranton, Pennsylvania wasn’t exactly the Taj Mahal… not even the one in Atlantic City. And unlike the one in India, it wasn’t a place that Jim had ever wanted to see. But Michael had gotten a really good deal on the hall for Dunder Mifflin’s big Casino Night, so here Jim was, looking around the place where Pam (and Roy..he always thought of Roy in parentheses, when he had to think of him at all) would be holding her (their) wedding reception in a mere 4 days.

He was early, which was odd, since he had been dreading this evening all day. But at home there was only packing, and that was even worse. Michael was here already, of course, supervising the set up of the games, and driving the "Casino Night set-up committee" crazy, by interfering with their carefully laid plans. He could see Angela tightening up..if she got any more rigid she would snap like a twig. Kelly chattered on with Meredith, oblivious to the warfare about to erupt. Jim was tempted briefly to go over and smooth the waters, but was suddenly gripped by a spasm of not caring and turned away towards the refreshment table. It’s not like Pam was a member of the committee this time...she had more important things on her mind right now.

Jim could see that Michael had spared all expense when it came to the refreshments. Six packs of Gerrity’s brand soda stood proudly (and cheaply) next to some brand of beer that even Jim had never heard of, and twin boxes of Chablis and Chianti. A large ice bucket stood waiting for ice, and an array of plastic cups and paper plates completed the scene. Wonderful.

And the food..well, here Jim was inclined to be somewhat less judgmental. Far from being a food snob, he actually preferred cheap cheese and crackers. In fact he especially loved Cheese in a can..and look, here it was..he recognized its distinctive orange swirls on the Triscuits. Large bowls of Sam’s Club pretzels, and potato chips, no French Onion, Jim noted, but there was French Onion dip in a large Sam’s Club vat.

Jim looked around. The hall wasn’t that bad for a wedding. It was large enough, and had been painted sometime this century, but it was bland and featureless. Well, maybe with real tablecloths, instead of the paper ones they had tonight, and lots of flowers it wouldn’t be so awful. Still, Pam deserved better, he thought bitterly, and not for the first time.

Casino Night was intended to be a fundraiser for the greater Scranton Big Brother and Sister organization, which was Michael’s newest passion. Not exactly in a position to have his own children right now, Michael had signed up to be a Big Brother, though he hadn’t, as yet, been given an assignment. Right now, out there in Scranton somewhere, mused Jim, was a little poor kid who was, all unknowingly, in for a world of…strangeness. Jim felt a brief flash of pity for both the kid and Michael, knowing that Michael would, as always, try too hard, and the kid wouldn’t respond as enthusiastically as Michael would have hoped, and somehow the whole thing would end up as a big disappointment for all involved. But in the meantime, the Big Brothers and Sisters were the beneficiaries of Michael’s enthusiasm.

Of course, after weeks of planning, Michael had been dismayed to discover, at the very last minute, of course, that gambling, and therefore Casino nights were illegal in Pennsylvania. So the evening had been hastily set up with each person being issued chips to gamble with, which could then be exchanged at the end of the evening for "valuable" prizes. Having seen the décor and the refreshments, Jim had no illusions about the prizes. He had dutifully paid his ten bucks admission to a woman named Peggy, at the door and had been issued a modest pile of chips. He looked down at them now and counted them..ten bucks worth. Great. It’s not like they were real money...why not give everybody fifty or a hundred? Let them feel like high rollers for once. Why did all Dunder Mifflin events have this same quality of lameness? Was it the same way in New York?

Dwight was setting up a large roulette wheel in the center of the room next to a blackjack table and a couple of poker tables. Michael had boasted that they would also have genuine Slot Machines, but Jim didn’t see any. Probably couldn’t find any that took chips, or they cost too much to rent. Poker was the game that Jim liked though. Too bad no real money was changing hands tonight…he could have had used a little more cash for his trip. And a real knock down drag out game of poker would have taken his mind off things he really didn’t want to be dwelling on this evening.

Speaking of which, here came the happy couple now...or at least half of it. Pam was walking in by herself, carrying a brown paper bag. Roy was probably out parking the car, Jim thought, trying to prevent the little surge of hope that kept trying to rise up like a crocus peeking through the snow. Carefully setting his expression to friendly neutral he walked over casually to where Pam was paying.

"Hi."

Pam looked up and smiled, her expression also friendly neutral, "Hi."

"Where’s, uh, Roy? Parking the car?"

"Oh. Roy? He couldn’t come."

"What? How come? I thought attendance was mandatory. Fund raiser and all. Or as Michael calls it, ‘fun raiser.’"

Pam looked down at her hands and twisted her ring. "Well, his aunt and uncle and cousins came in today from New Jersey, for the wedding and he had to go pick them up at the bus station. And then his mom is having this big family dinner."

"But what about you? Weren’t you invited?"

Pam rolled her eyes, "Invited? I was practically dragooned! But I explained, several times, in fact, that this party was mandatory, and the only reason Roy got excused was because he’s in the warehouse, and probably because he’s bigger than Michael."

Jim couldn’t seem to keep himself from asking, "But what about you? I’m sure Michael would have excused you too, for a big family, pre-wedding, uh, whatever. And you know this is going to be terminally lame."

"Oh, totally. I’ve heard the planning. The committee is top secret you know, but I have clearance."

Jim nodded, trying to stomp on his surge of joy before he did or said something stupid. "Want a drink?"

He and Pam went over to the refreshment table. Ryan was there emptying ice from a backpack into the ice bucket.

"Hey Ryan."

Ryan looked unhappy, but this was Ryan’s normal expression, at least at work or work related events. Outside the office, Jim had actually seen Ryan smile, once. "Hey Jim, Pam," he said mournfully.

Pam looked at the backpack, "Ryan, why was the ice in your backpack? Doesn’t it come in bags?"

Ryan sighed. "You know the motel down the block?"

"Motel 8?"

"Yeah. Would you believe that Michael had me sneak in there and steal ice out of the ice machine?"

Jim and Pam laughed. Jim asked, "Was that one of the skills listed on your temp application...ice stealing?"

"Probably… I’ve been at this job so long, I’ve forgotten."

"Michael likes you. He’ll never send you back to the agency. And then one day…you’ll be one of us!"

Ryan grimaced at the thought and looking up, saw Kelly coming towards the refreshment table and him with a big smile. He grabbed the empty backpack muttering, "Gotta get rid of this. Let me know if the ice tastes funny." And he was gone. Kelly, who had almost reached the table, waved cheerfully to Jim and Pam, made a sudden turn and ambled off after Ryan.

The room was beginning to fill up. Jim saw Kevin and Stacy, and Stanley with his wife. Michael had had Ryan distribute flyers to all the companies in the building, like Vance Refrigeration, and Bob Vance was there of course as Phyllis’ date. There were also quite a few people there that Jim didn’t know. Michael was everywhere, meeting and greeting, "on" as only Michael could be in his Dundee’s tux. Dwight was over at the entertainment table, fiddling with the boom box karoake machine which seemed to follow Michael to every D-M event. Any moment now the music would start blaring. Anything but "Tiny Dancer," Jim hoped.

"Well, now that the ice has arrived, would you like a drink?" Jim asked, waving his arm over the table with a little flourish, "Let’s see, we have bad wine, and worse wine, 100% cork free, in boxes for your convenience. And could this be..Why yes it is…Brand X beer. Always a favorite. But alas, no margaritas for the senorita."

Pam giggled, "Wellll, considering that Roy isn’t here tonight…I think I’ll….stick to soda."

No real surprise. Jim smiled to himself, remembering last year’s Dundees. She was playing it safe.

"Soda..A wise choice. Well, then we have a lovely selection of Gerrity’s brands. This one is guaranteed to taste almost like cola."

Pam smiled up at Jim; "I have the real thing." She reached into the paper bag she was carrying and pulled out a one-liter bottle of Coca-Cola. "I knew the soda was going to be bad, so I brought my own."

Jim looked a the bottle, "Hey that’s Vanilla Coke."

"Yep. Your favorite."

"But..it’s been discontinued."

"Well, duh. You only complained about it for an entire week, remember? You even wrote the Coca Cola company a letter."

"I sent them an E-mail. Not quite as dorky. "

Pam rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Right. Anyway, I found this in that dinky little convenience store near the office."

Jim laughed, "You mean the ‘inconvenience store’ that never has anything we want?"

"They had this. I’ve had it for weeks. Saving it for a special occasion."

"Well, I may have to pass up this yummy wine then…unless of course, you only brought it for yourself."

"Yes. I was planning on guzzling it all by myself over in the corner. Here pass me a glass. And some of that ice. I’m afraid this is warm."

"You really want ice that’s been in with Ryan’s gym socks?"

"The vanilla will kill the taste." Pam poured them both cokes. Jim added a few ice cubes from the middle of the bucket, figuring them for the least contaminated. They walked away from the table as the crowd was headed for the wine. Pam tucked the bottle of Coke back into her bag. No point in leaving it for the vultures.

Pam continued, "You know, Corporate wouldn’t pay for this. That’s why the imitation soda. And no slot machines. I overheard Michael on the phone with Jan, begging."

Jim chuckled, "He never learns, does he?"

"Corporate will only pay for one party each year."

"That’s Michael for you. We get one free party a year and he uses it in January."

They both fell silent at that. The January party had been the so-called Booze Cruise, which had been a turning point for both of them. After all, it was the night in which Pam and Roy had gotten engaged for real, and the wedding, which had been more or less a daydream, or in Jim’s case a nightmare, was coming ever closer to becoming a reality.

Jim looked down at the coke in his hand, "So, why is this stupid fundraiser a special occasion?"

"What?"

"You said you were saving the coke for a special occasion."

"Oh. Well, I figured it was kind of a bon voyage for you. What with your big trip to Australia coming up in only two days."

"Oh. That. Yeah." Okay, it was time. No point in putting it off any longer. "And also, goodbye."

Pam turned and stared at him. "Goodbye? What..have you decided to become Australian? You haven’t even seen the place yet."

Jim chucked sadly, "Yeah..G’Day, Mate. That’s me." His smile faded, "No. Uh. Actually…you remember all those requests for transfer I used to send to Michael?"

Pam looked puzzled, and shook her head.

"No. That’s right. You wouldn’t remember them. That was before you started at Dunder Mifflin." He paused, and said softly, "I don’t think I’ve sent any since you arrived." He took a drink of his soda. The music was playing now, but thankfully it was soft. He could hear the sounds of people laughing and talking and now and again the squeal of a winner at one of the tables. "Well, last week when Michael dealt with all of the complaints, he found all of my transfer requests, and being Michael, he never noticed the dates on them and he forwarded them to Corporate and they, uh, transferred me. I just found out today. I’m being sent to New York."

"New York."

"Yeah."

"Well, you don’t have to go, do you? Those requests were years old, you say. You could tell them it’s all a misunderstanding. Jan knows Michael."

"I could have turned it down, yeah. But I didn’t. It’s New York, Pam. The Corporate office."

"But it’s still Dunder Mifflin, Jim. It’s still paper."

Jim explained, "But it’s New York, don’t you see? Here in Scranton, when I look around me, I see nothing better than what I’m doing now. But in New York there will be opportunities all around me, and meanwhile I’ll have a decent job while I explore my options."

Pam was silent, looking down at her untouched drink. Jim stared at her, trying to gauge her reaction to his news.

"Hey hey hey, It’s Beesly and Halpert Incorporated." It was Michael, bearing down upon them. He started to sing, "You gotta know when to hold ‘em, know when to scold ‘em…Hey why are you two still holding chips? Time to take the big spin on the wheel of life. We’ve had a couple of big winners already this evening. Kevin has won himself a coal mine adventure! And Ryan and Kelly have won a free night a the movies, donated by the Loews multiplex."

Jim and Pam looked at each other. It was useless to fight the Michael juggernaut when it came your way. Jim leaned over to Pam and muttered, "Resistance is futile." They headed towards the game tables. "Would you like to play poker?"

"Not really, "replied Pam. "I think I’ll go over and see what Angela and Phyllis are playing."

"Okay, " said Jim, "See ya later. Good luck. Break the bank."

"Thanks, " said Pam with a small smile and walked away. Jim sighed, but there was nothing to do now but sit down at the poker table. Ryan was there and Stan and Kevin. It could be worse. Dwight could have been there, but he was lording it over the roulette wheel. Jim sat down. "So, what are we playing?"

An hour later Jim had managed to turn his ten-dollar kitty into one hundred dollars. By the end of the game, when it was down to himself and Stanley, they had attracted quite a crowd, but Pam was not among them. He had trading in his coke for Chablis, which, while as vile as expected, was at least alcoholic. Despite all outward appearances, he was not having a good time.

Jim got up from the table and walked over to the prize table. The prizes were all donated goods and services. Since they had been mostly solicited by Angela, there was not much fun to be had. Somehow dry-cleaning gift certificates and free Mochachino from Jitters didn’t turn him on. There was another movie certificate, but he wasn’t planning on being in the area long enough to use it. The same went for the free karate lesson from Dwight’s dojo, and the Improv class. Jim left the table. There was nothing here he wanted. He would give his winnings to Pam…she could use the Dry Cleaning certificates, if nothing else, for her damn wedding dress.

Pam wasn’t to be found anywhere, not at the game tables or by the refreshments, which Jim noted absently, were running critically low. Tough..not his problem. Finally, he saw her over in a dark corner, sitting on a folding chair, nursing a glass of red wine.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

"So, did you win big?"

Pam shook her head glumly. "Ten tries on the roulette wheel. Ten losses. Gone in sixty seconds. Or that’s what it seemed like, anyway. Dwight enjoyed it anyway. How did you do?"

"I was big winner of the night. One hundred bucks. Enough for free dry cleaning for life."

"Yeah," she snapped, "But only here in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Not New York."

He looked at her, stunned. Was she really upset that he was leaving? What did she expect from him? She was getting married, for God’s sake. Was he supposed to stick around and be her loyal buddy, when even being near her caused him almost physical pain? Did she have no idea how he felt?

Well, in all fairness, how would she, when he had been too cowardly to tell her? The night of the Booze Cruise he had come so close, so very close, but Roy had been there and Katie and things had gotten complicated, and then Roy had set the wedding date. And now it was almost too late. In two days he would be gone to Australia, and by the time he got back, she would be married. It would be one thing if she were blissfully happy. But this girl sitting here was not happy.

Jim looked at Pam in an agony of indecision. Was it fair to her for him to suddenly declare himself four days before her wedding? Wasn’t he just being selfish, wanting to get all these feelings off his chest, not caring how they might affect her? If only he had some kind of a sign, a sign from God that telling her wouldn’t make things worse for her. He looked down at his little plastic bag full of chips. What was that dumb thing that Michael had said earlier...about taking a spin on the wheel of life? Michael had the idiot savant’s gift for sometimes saying exactly the right thing. On the booze cruise he had said, "BFD…engaged isn’t married!" Jim grabbed Pam’s hand and pulled her up, out of her seat, "C’mon," he said, "I want to make one last bet, and I need your help."

Over at the roulette table, Dwight was in heaven. He had absolute control over the wheel and loved raking in the chips, and smirking at the losers. Jim brought Pam over to the table. Kevin was busy losing the five dollars he had won at poker plus a few chips that Stacy had left. The party was breaking up. Over at the karaoke machine, Michael seemed to be getting ready to sing, which was a sure sign it was time to pack it in. Jim had decided. He needed a sign, and what better way to get one than a game of chance. He would choose a number..a completely meaningless number and bet all of his chips on it. If it came up, he would tell Pam everything, and let her deal with it how she would. If his number lost, he would keep silent and forever hold his peace.

"Pam..give me a number between 1 and 36."

"Jim, this is Dwight’s game. Are you sure you want to lose all your money to him?"

"I don’t care. Just give me a number. Any number…just pick one quick at random."

"Oh..uh..oh I don’t know…27?"

"Great!" Jim put his one hundred chips down on the table. "Put it all on number 27."

"It’s very foolish to place all your money on one number, " Dwight smirked, "Shrutes never gamble unwisely, " but his eyes gleamed at the large bet.

"It’s fine, Dwight. I know what I’m doing."

"Very well, foolish person. The chips are down. Le jeux son fait." With a flourish, Dwight tossed the ball into the wheel and gave it a spin.

The wheel spun and the ball tossed from number to number, from red to black. Jim closed his eyes. He could feel Pam standing close behind him, could feel her breath on the back of his neck. The room went suddenly silent. Jim opened his eyes.

Dwight was glaring at him with murder in his eyes. "You cheated!"

"Wha..?"

"How did you do it? How did you know it would be number 27?"

Jim stood there in shock. The ball rested smugly on the slot numbered 27. "I, I swear, Dwight...I didn’t do it on purpose. Look...keep my winnings. I don’t need them."

Dwight chortled as he swept Jim’s chips into a pile.

Jim took a deep breath. He turned to Pam. The time for silence was over. "Pam," he said, "Come outside with me. We need to talk."

Chapter 2

Pam looked at Jim as though he had gone insane. "Jim…what are you doing? You just threw away a whole lot of money. Well, a whole lot of fake money."

Jim took Pam’s hand, "Well now I can always boast that I broke the fake bank at Dunder-Mifflin. That’s got to count for something, right? But that’s not important right now. I have to talk to you, and I can’t do it here." Michael was singing "the Gambler" again. Apparently it was the only gambling related song he knew. Not that he actually knew it, if the words he was singing were any indication. "Let’s go outside."

Pam hesitated, "Together? I’m not sure that’s such a good idea."

Please God, just let her come along before I change my mind about this whole-misguided idea, Jim prayed. But aloud he said, "Look, Pam, what difference does it make? In two days I’ll be on my way to Australia, and when I come back, I’m off to New York. In the meanwhile you’ll be getting…well, what the hell, just let ‘em talk for once."

Pam decided that it would cause less attention if she didn’t argue, so she followed Jim outside to a small garden at the side of the Hall. Pam’s wedding photographer, a family friend who knew the place, had declared it the perfect spot for photos before the reception. Fortunately, Jim didn’t know this. It was a warm night for early June, but not yet muggy. A half moon shone through the trees.

"So…what’s this all about?’ Pam demanded, though for some reason her heart was thudding so loud she was surprised Jim couldn’t hear it.

"I…I just wanted a chance to talk to you privately before I went away. I thought that this might be my last chance. I wasn’t going to say anything, I swear, but then my number came up! I mean I couldn’t believe it.. what were the chances, you know? So I knew it was a sign. A sign that I had to speak."

Pam stood frozen in the moonlight. Oh my God, she thought in a panic, this was it. This was the conversation. The one she had been both dreading and anticipating for months. Unless, of course, it wasn’t. What if he had dragged her out here to discuss some farewell prank for Dwight? Oh God. And if it was the conversation…what was she supposed to do? To think? And the timing…Oh God, the timing absolutely sucked!

"Listen, "Jim began, "I know my timing sucks. My fault, entirely. If I had just spoken up at the damn booze cruise…but I was a total wuss," Jim grimaced at the memory, "And then Roy made his big move, and set the date, and you looked so happy that night. So excited. What could I say?" He looked at Pam. She had backed up against the large boxwood hedge that bordered the little garden, and her eyes were wide with...what? Shock? But how could she be shocked? The whole situation had been so obvious to him for months...years even. But whatever she was feeling, it was obvious that she wasn’t going to help him out here. But at least she hadn’t run screaming from the garden…yet.

He cleared his throat; "Well part of the problem was that you’ve always been engaged, since I met you, so it was kind of hard to get passed that, you know? But we hit it off, you and I, right from that very first day. When Michael made all those sexist jokes, and Dwight gave you that list of rules, like he was Moses imparting the Ten Commandments."

Pam began to smile, in spite of herself, at the thought of that awful first day. Jim had been a friend and an ally right from the start. A friend. That’s all.

"And we became friends. Right?" Pam nodded. "And in our own way we got back at Michael and Dwight, especially Dwight, and the whole Dunder Mifflin experience." The sounds of voices from the front of the hall told Jim that Casino Night was officially over and everybody was coming out. Damn. Time was rapidly running out; time to cut to the chase.

"Pam, I don’t know how else to say this but just to say it. I can’t be your friend anymore. Not like we were before. And not just because I’m moving to New York. Didn’t you ever ask yourself why I was going all the way to freaking Australia, when I’ve never even left Pennsylvania before? Or why I planned to be away for your wedding? I mean if we were just friends it’s kind of a rotten thing to do, right?"

Pam nodded, remembering the hurt she had suppressed when he told her his plans. And the hurt she had felt tonight when he announced his plans to move to New York. Despite her best efforts, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. No! This was not happening! He was not going to see her cry. She started to move past him, to leave this garden. To go home, where everything was easy and planned, and predictable. In desperation, he put out his hand to stop her, and she suddenly found herself facing him, mere inches away, his hands on her arms. In the moonlight, she could see that he had tears in his eyes, also.

"Please let me finish, Pam. Then you can go, stay, whatever you want to do, okay? Pam, I love you. It’s not just a crush, never has been. I lied about that, after Michael opened his big mouth. It’s killing me that you’re marrying Roy, and I bought that stupid ticket to Australia just to get as far away from your wedding as I could. Because I just couldn’t do it, Pam. I just couldn’t sit there in St. Mary’s and watch you throw away your whole future on a guy like Roy. A guy who’s gonna make sure that you spend your whole life here in Scranton, as a receptionist, when you could have had the whole world. Pam…remember the internship in New York? The house with the terrace that you’ve always wanted? "

Suddenly, Pam put her hands on Jim’s shoulders and pushed him away, as angry as Jim had ever seen her. He didn’t even know she could be like this, shaking with fury.

"Oh, is that what you’re going to give me, Jim?" she spat in a furious whisper, horribly conscious of the people leaving the party, " The world? A house with a terrace? You going to make all my dreams come true? How dare you! All these months I have been waiting…since before the booze cruise, in fact, waiting for some word from you, something, anything that would change my mind about this wedding. The ‘save the dates’ went out, the invitations went out, and did you say anything? No...You had card parties and played tricks on Dwight and went out on dates and planned trips to the other side of the world. And never said one word! And now four days before my wedding, suddenly you love me? Is that fair? What am I supposed to do now? Fall into your arms, break my engagement, cancel all of the plans my Mother has been mooning over for months, tell the relatives to go home, move out of Roy’s apartment, all the while, by the way, you’re sitting on a beach in Australia? You can just go to hell, Jim Halpert!" She burst into tears.

Jim was stunned into horrified silence. He knew that the only reason she wasn’t leaving the garden was that she didn’t want to be seen in her present condition by the people who were still milling about the entrance. She turned away from him and covered her face with her hands. Jim literally didn’t know what to do. He was afraid to touch her, or to speak. He had already fouled things up so terribly that any movement might just compound the disaster. Finally, after a long agonizing moment, he couldn’t bear it any longer.

"Pam," he croaked, the tears streaming from his own eyes, "I’m so sorry. You are absolutely right. I’ve been a fool and a coward. And not too bright, either. Look…I know I’m just a salesman for a third rate Paper Company in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Even when I move to New York, I’ll probably always be a small town kind of guy. Nobody special. But I have dreams, you know? And the best part of those dreams has always involved you. But, I swear, Pam, I never wanted my dreams at the expense of yours. And if your dream is really to marry Roy, and stay here in Scranton, well then, I say go for it. I just want you to be happy, and to live the life you want and deserve. That’s all. And it’s okay, Pam…in a couple of days I’ll be gone, out of your life, and you won’t have to worry about me. Okay? I’m really sorry. Pam…are you all right?"

He touched her shoulder, gently, wondering if she would ever forgive him. At his touch, she turned around abruptly, and Jim found himself holding her in his arms, while she cried softly on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and just held her, stroking her hair, wishing he knew the magic words that would bring them back to the way they had been before tonight.

"J..Jim?" her voice was so soft, he could hardly hear her.

"What is it, Pam?" He whispered back. She didn’t sound angry any longer, thank God.

"D..did you really mean it? I mean really?" she looked up at him, "about loving me, that is?"

Jim smiled, his heart pounding, and gently lifting up her chin, he kissed her. "Absolutely."

"Oh God. How am I going to tell Roy?" She wrapped her arms around Jim’s neck and kissed him, the way she had never let herself dream of doing, and he kissed her back, the way he had always dreamed of doing.

After several long minutes, they pulled apart, reluctantly, "What in heaven’s name are we going to do?" wailed Pam, "about the wedding?"

"Listen, " Jim said, except for the crickets, it was quiet. "I think everybody’s gone. Unless, of course, they’re all standing on the other side of this bush waiting to jump out and yell ‘surprise.’" He was giddy with relief and happiness, and almost wished that everybody from Dunder-Mifflin was there to witness this moment. But as they crept quietly out of the garden, they saw that the parking lot was empty, except for their two cars, parked side by side. Jim laughed, "Thank goodness, this doesn’t look a bit suspicious!"

"Maybe they were all too drunk to have noticed, "Pam giggled. Then she sobered up, immediately. "God…I am going to have to tell Roy immediately. I can’t let him go to work tomorrow…and hear it from every guy in the warehouse!"

"I’ll come with you. Right now. We’ll tell him together."

"Are you sure? I know Roy would never hit me, but I can’t make any promises about what he might do to you."

"It’s okay. You forget…I’ve been trained by Dwight Schrute, Purple belt! " Jim flexed his biceps and tried to look fierce. It wasn’t a big success. Pam shook her head. Oh, they were in so much trouble.

"But what am I going to do working in the same building with him every day? It’s going to be a disaster."

"That part’s easy. Come with me to New York. We’ll get you into that internship. I’m starting at Corporate right after I get back from…oh crap! I totally forgot about my stupid trip to Australia! Stupid non-refundable ticket that cost half my savings!"

"Well," said Pam with mock solemnity, "I don’t want to put my dreams ahead of yours. If it’s really your dream to go to Australia, then I say go for it."

"Hell no, " said Jim. "Did you know it’s winter there now? And it’s a really, really long flight. I’ll just have to call Quantas tomorrow and throw myself on their mercy. I’ll make up a dying relative or something. If worse comes to worse, it’s only money. The sooner I can start in New York the better. For both of us."

"What am I going to do tonight? Once I talk to Roy, I can’t stay there and my folks have rented out my room. "

Jim thought a bit. "Well, this might sound a little sketchy, but you remember Bill? One of my roommates? Tall, skinny guy? He got a job in Pittsburgh, moved out last week. His room is available at the moment. No strings. I promise. The door locks and everything. Unless you want me to bring you over to Angela’s or one of your girlfriend’s houses, whatever you want, Pam."

Pam laughed, "Certainly not Angela’s. Have you ever seen her place? It’s like a convent. With cats. And I don’t exactly feel like explaining this to any of my bridesmaids tonight, so I’ll take you up on your offer. I trust you. But we’d better get going. Roy’s probably back from his parent’s house by now, and will wonder what’s keeping me."

Jim brought Pam over to her car( Roy’s car, actually) and helped her inside. "Okay, Pam. You lead off, and I’ll follow."

"Give me a kiss for luck? We’re gonna need it."

"Sure thing, " He leaned in and kissed her, and whispered in her ear, "Just remember what the great philosopher, Michael Scott, once said to me on the freezing deck of a mighty ship, he said, ‘Never give up. Never surrender.’ See you at your place. I love you." He closed Pam’s door and went to his own car. A few minutes later both cars left the parking lot of the VFW Hall in Scranton Pennsylvania and drove off into the darkness of a June night.

The end