Pam had been checking the weather on the WNEP website every hour, hoping against hope that the snow would hold out long enough for her and Jim to be able to escape to her uncle's cabin for the weekend. So far Mother Nature had been lenient, but the tables seemed to be turning. A major blizzard was brewing and the local weatherman was predicting it would top the infamous blizzard of '96. It was at times like this that Pam wondered why she didn't move somewhere warmer.

With a sigh, she closed the news website and started up a game of solitaire.

The day was slowly dragging by now, with Michael having used up most of his ridiculousness quota in the first few hours of work. They had spent four hours in the conference room, locked in by Michael and not allowed to leave until someone came up with the perfect Christmas gift idea for Jan. Eventually Michael accepted one of their ideas - a Michael Scott comedy album. The thought of Michael sitting in front of a tape recorder spewing out tasteless joke after tasteless joke made Pam want to simultaneously grin and shudder. She half wished she could be a fly on the wall when Jan opened the gift and actually listened to the tape.

Out of the corner of her eye Pam could see Jim standing at the reception desk, staring down into the container of jelly beans. She smiled to herself; she had put fresh ones in this morning and had thrown all the black ones out.

Jim collected a handful of candy before moving around the desk so that he was standing directly in front of Pam. He rested his elbows on the desk and tilted his head so he could see the computer screen.

"Busy day?"

"Yep," she replied, a small smile playing on the corners of her mouth.

"Come on, you have to do a better job of entertaining me," Jim pleaded. "Andy's spent the last forty-five minutes singing show tunes and reading his love letters to Angela out loud. I can't go back."

Pam looked up at him, grinning. "He writes love letters?"

"And haikus," Jim added solemnly. "You see why I can never return to my desk. I'm afraid he's going to start asking for advice on iambic pentameter."

"I won't lie to you, Jim. I kind of actually hope that happens."

"Cruel woman," Jim said and smirked. "I think I'm going to steal some of his work and bring it this weekend."

"Best idea ever. What I really like on my weekends away is to read horrible love poetry about Angela." She frowned. "I really hope the weather holds out."

Jim popped a green jelly bean in his mouth. "Hey, come hell or high snow, we're making it to that cabin."

Pam smiled at him and Jim returned to his desk.

Pam returned to her game of solitaire. When the cards made the tth-tth-tth noise, she smiled. She would take whatever in-office joy she could get, no matter how small it was. She was actually starting to look forward to Andy's poetry. Well, it wasn't so much the poetry that she looked forward to - it was more so Jim reading it to her and the two of them falling into fits of laughter in front of the fireplace. She had never wanted it to be 5 o'clock so badly before.

"ATTENTION EVERYONE!"

Michael burst through his office door with Dwight in tow. He looked around the office and, when he was satisfied that all eyes were on him, he continued.

"Okay, people, scary news here. There is like five feet of snow on the ground."

"Well, technically it's really more like a foot or -"

"Shut up, Dwight," Michael interrupted. "This is serious! We are at threat level midnight here people! I don't want to alarm any of you, but... we are doomed. We are all going to die."

Jim left his desk and went into Michael's office. He came back out after looking through the window and sat back at his desk. "No one's going to die, but there is about a foot of snow on the ground already. It's coming down pretty hard out there."

He shot an apologetic glance at Pam.

"People," Dwight said. He put his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest for a more authoritative look. "I've been listening to my police scanner and my fears have been confirmed - all the snow plows are tied up in other parts of the city and the greater Lackawanna County area. I don't know when they'll reach us, so I suggest everyone settle in."

Michael sighed loudly. "It won't matter. By the time they get to the street we'll be buried in ten feet of snow and we'll be picking Phyllis' bones clean. Or Stanley. Definitely Kevin. Any one of them could feed the most of us. Send word to your loved ones because you're all going to die here tonight."

Michael retreated into his office, closing the door behind him. He shut the blinds soon after.

Angela chewed at her thumbnail nervously. "What about my cats? I didn't put out any crunchies before I left this morning..."

"Nobody panic," Dwight said loudly. "As a volunteer sheriff deputy -"

"Ex-volunteer sheriff deputy," Jim corrected.

Dwight glared at him, but continued his speech. "I know how to survive in emergency situations. I can get us through this, but I need your complete cooperation. To achieve this, Jim, I'm going to have to ask that you spend the night in your car."

"What?"

"I can't have you second guessing me!" Dwight told him. "If you want everyone to live, you will spend the rest of the night in your inferior vehicle. You may borrow my NASA blanket."

"Living in a car isn't so bad," Creed chimed in. His eyes were wistful as he added, "Toyota Tercel, 1989."

"I'm not spending the night in my car," Jim said. "We'll be out of here by 6:30, 7 at the latest. Not a big deal."

Dwight pushed his face so close to Jim's that their noses were almost touching. He hissed, "I know things!"

Before Jim could reply, Dwight stalked off. He tried to go into Michael's office, but the door was locked, so he went into the conference room and slammed the door behind him.

Jim sighed and walked over to the reception desk.

Pam was sitting with her head resting on the keyboard, causing manic characters to be typed into the Microsoft Word document she had open.

"You misspelled Adjaklamajfakis," he pointed out.

Pam lifted her head and offered a small smile. "I wish I was dead."

"Well, according to Michael, you will be soon, so... wish granted."

"If I close my eyes," Pam said as she did so, "I can pretend that I'm sitting in front of a fire in my uncle's cabin."

A crazed wail came from Michael's office and her eyes snapped open. She sighed. "Damn."

Jim reached down to take her hand in his. "Hey, we'll get there... if we live through tonight, I mean."

Five o'clock came and went while the snow kept coming and coming. Rather than catch up on any work, everyone mentally punched out of the office even though they were still physically in it. While Pam honed her spider solitaire craft, Jim read over Andy's shoulder and snickered at the sonnets he was writing. Dwight had not come out of the conference room, but he occasionally peeked through the blinds. Kevin and Oscar were playing Hate Ball while Angela read her Bible, only stopping to give withering glances to her fellow number crunchers. Phyllis shopped online, Stanley did crosswords, and everyone was sure that Michael was probably hiding under his desk. If the moment were a breakfast cereal, it would have been advertised as NOW WITH TWO SCOOPS OF MONOTONY.

Pam had been checking the news website regularly, hoping that just once when she visited the page it would say in big, bold letters STORM OVER, PLOWS IN ACTION. As it turned out, the opposite was true. The snow was still coming down and Dwight had indeed been correct about the snow plows being spread thin. She was beginning to think that what Michael said may be true - she was going to die in that office. She'd never been struck by a more depressing thought.

She looked up from her computer to find that most of the employees were now milling around the sales desks, shuffling their feet and looking terribly bored.

"I am starving," Kevin complained.

The statement was met with rumbling stomachs and statements of agreement.

Andy sidled over to Angela. "You know, I visited my mother this weekend and she gave me some totally delicious stuff to take home, which I happen to have in the ol' break room fridge, so if you -"

"Thinking about the amount of bacteria that multiplied in the food on your drive back to Scranton repulses me," Angela snapped. "I do not want to eat your mother's contaminated meal."

As she strode back to her desk, Andy called out after her, "Then you can have my Snack Pack!"

Jim rolled his eyes and walked over to Pam before Andy could corner him and ask for advice... or, worse, ask him to proofread his poetry.

"So, idea," Jim said. "Hungry?"

Pam nodded, so he continued. "Okay. All you have to do is meet me on the roof, I'll take care of the rest."

"Um, I'd prefer not to freeze to death, actually," Pam replied.

"Well, let me put it this way: would you rather die on the roof with me or in the office with Michael?"

Pam considered this. If she listened closely enough, she could hear Michael crying in his office. "I'll get my coat."

Pam stepped carefully through the snow that had accumulated on the roof and stopped a few feet from the edge. She wrapped her coat more tightly around herself and tried to forget how possibly dangerous this was. The view was beautiful. Scranton was hushed by the snow like a child was lulled to sleep under a torn but beloved security blanket. For as far as Pam could see, the snow was pristine and still sparkling, a far cry from the muddy slosh it would become once the plows barreled through it. As much as she hated the cold of winter, she had to admit that she did enjoy the first few snowfalls of the season. There was something magical about snowflakes getting tangled up in her hair and melting on her skin.

When she heard snow crunching behind her, she turned around slowly, carefully.

Jim was walking toward her, seemingly the human embodiment of "clumsy." His messenger bag was slung over his shoulder, he was cradling a thermos and two Styrofoam cups in one arm and dragging a lawn chair behind him.

Pam rushed over to him and took the thermos and cups and tried to help him set up the lawn chair, but he refused her help. She supposed it was a typical male response, sort of like not stopping to ask for directions (which, she had learned, he didn't).

Pam hugged the warm thermos close. "Hmm, so far I'm not seeing the benefits of this."

"You'll be dazzled," he promised. His voice was light and warm, unlike the weather. He propped the lawn chair open and sat in it.

"You want me to sit in the snow?" she asked, her nose wrinkling. "You are murdering chivalry here."

"Come on," he said, his voice low. He grabbed the sleeve of her jacket and gently tugged her into his lap in one smooth motion. He reached into his messenger bag with one hand and pulled out a blanket that appeared to be made of tinfoil.

Pam laughed when she saw it and snuggled closer to Jim. "Is that Dwight's NASA blanket?"

Jim nodded and wrapped the blanket around the both of them. "Yeah, I told him I was going to stay in my car."

He reached into the messenger bag again and this time pulled out a brown paper bag. "Would you mind pouring some of that hot chocolate while I serve dinner?"

Pam smiled despite her chattering teeth. She was freezing, but she could see why he promised dazzling results. She carefully poured the hot chocolate into the cups as Jim pulled various vending machine food items out of the paper bag.

She took a tentative sip of the hot chocolate and asked, "Where did you get this? It's glorious."

"I was going to do coffee," Jim told her, "but then I saw Phyllis had some of those little instant packets, so I did some bartering."

He handed her a package of Pop Tarts (strawberry frosted) and took the other one (unfrosted blueberry) for himself.

She tore the package open and held a Pop Tart out to him. "I'll trade you for one of yours."

"You hate the unfrosted kind."

"So do you."

He shrugged and traded her one of his inferior unfrosted Pop Tarts for one of her superior ones. They divided up the rest of their completely unhealthy vending machine dinner and ate happily, talking and joking all throughout the meal. After they finished off the last of the hot chocolate, Pam rested her head on Jim's shoulder. He wrapped the blanket more tightly around them.

"I'm freezing," Pam admitted. "But... so close to being dazzled."

"Well, we can't go inside until you're absolutely dazzled," Jim said. He chuckled and Pam could feel the rise and fall of his chest.

"You know what I haven't done in years?" she said quietly. "Made a snow angel. I can remember the last time I did, which is kind of stupid."

"No," he said, his voice as quiet as hers. It was something about the snow that seemed to require whispers. "Tell me about it."

"I was at my uncle's cabin," she said. "I was... twenty, I think. It was Christmas Eve. My cousins are all a lot younger than I am - I mean, Rob is the second oldest and he was only fifteen at the time. There's sort of a tradition in my family and it's kind of weird, but after dinner my uncle always has a cigar on the back porch and the kids always go out with him. It started because we all wanted to go out and play in the snow in the dark when we were younger, but it just kind of stuck, you know?"

Jim took her hand in his and rubbed her palm with his thumb.

Pam smiled, half from the feel of Jim's hand over hers and half from the memory "So, we're all out on the porch and I was just kind of sitting there, watching the cigar smoke curl up and float away. I was really hoping that I'd float away with the smoke, because... well, it was right before I dropped out of Marywood. I didn't know what I was doing with myself and I just felt like... I don't know. I must've looked exactly how I felt because Rob nailed me in the face with a snowball, which he thought was hilarious. I ended up jumping down into the snow with all my cousins. It was the first time we'd done that in years and the last thing we did before we went inside was make snow angels. We were all soaked and freezing, but it didn't matter..."

She stopped. She felt like crying and she wasn't really sure why. She knew it wouldn't be a good idea to cry in the cold, so she sniffled and rubbed at her eyes with her free hand. She could feel Jim moving beneath her and realized that he was trying to stand up. She jumped to her feet and wound up wrapped in the NASA blanket.

Jim was looking down at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. He reached out to wipe a snowflake gently from her cheek, then stepped around her so that he was facing her back.

She turned to face him, a quizzical look on her face.

Jim only smiled, stretched his arms out wide, and fell backwards into the snow with a thump!

Pam laughed as he made a snow angel. She threw off the NASA blanket and plopped down next to him and made her own.

Jim clambered to his feet and offered Pam his hands. He helped her up carefully so that her snow angel wouldn't be ruined with hand or footprints, then pulled her close.

"I'm dazzled," she said happily and reached up to give him a kiss.

They walked to the exit, hand in hand.

The unfrosted blueberry Pop Tarts lay forgotten in the snow.

Pam walked into the office and stripped off her coat. She stood in front of the heater, trying desperately to get warm. She was pretty sure that frostbite was an acceptable consequence of snow angels on the roof with Jim. He had gone to his car to get his gym bag out of his trunk because it had some dry clothes in it. She flexed her fingers and was a little surprised by how much it hurt to have her frozen digits meet with the rush of hot air that was bellowing from the heater. She was soaked to the bone, her wet hair clung to her face and she knew she was going to get one of the worst colds of her life. But it was still worth it.

Phyllis came over to warm her hands over the heater as well. She smiled at Pam. "Did you and Jim play in the snow?"

"Yeah, I felt like a kid again," Pam told her, smiling.

"That's nice," Phyllis said. "Last winter Bob Vance and I had a snowball fight."

Pam nodded and grinned as she imagined that scene in her mind. She imagined a snowball fight with Jim. "There's just something about winter, you know?"

"Especially if you get to sit by the fire with someone you love," Phyllis said. "I've had a lot of winters, but the ones with Bob are best."

Pam looked at Phyllis and smiled. It was rare that she got the chance to see anyone at the office as an actual human being instead of a co-worker. It was a nice change of pace and she wished it could happen more often. She spent so much time thinking of everyone as merely phone extensions that she sometimes forgot that there was more to them than their four digit code and those unique quirks that only surface in the work environment.

"You're shaking," Phyllis said. "I think I have a sweatshirt at my desk, do you want it?"

"Oh, no, you use it, I -"

"No, I'm not cold, I'm fine," Phyllis insisted. "You're soaked. I'll get it for you."

Phyllis went to her desk.

Jim entered the office, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He joined Pam at the heater, playfully bumping his hip into hers.

"Hey, hey, I was here first," Pam said. "Girlfriend gets heater privileges."

Jim smirked. He opened the gym bag and pulled out a University of Scranton zip-up sweatshirt and a pair of black sweatpants and held them out to her.

"What are you gonna wear?" she asked.

Jim shrugged. "Girlfriend gets dry clothes privileges."

Pam took the sweatpants but left the sweatshirt in his arms. "You keep that. Phyllis said she has one at her desk I can use."

"Well I'm gonna go change then," Jim said. "I'm freezing. And I completely blame you, of course."

"Of course."

Jim kissed her temple before going off to the men's bathroom to change out of his wet clothes.

Phyllis came back with a sweatshirt that had a big Vance Refrigeration logo on the front. She handed it off to Pam. "There you go. That should be a lot better."

Pam said thank you then went to the women's bathroom to change. She felt a lot better once she had stripped off all her wet wardrobe and slipped into the warm, dry clothes. She was absolutely swimming in the outfit, so she pushed back the sleeves of the sweatshirt and rolled the waistband of the sweatpants so they fit her better, a trick she learned in high school when she was the scorekeeper for the track team. She took a little pride in the fact that she was the worst scorekeeper the team had ever seen - she spent more time drawing the runners than taking down event times.

Once she was changed, she hung her wet clothes over the stall door and moved to the mirror. Her cheeks were still rosy and she was sure she was going to get the flu. Her hair was wet and her natural curls were starting to return, so she swept her hair up into a messy ponytail.

She went back into the office and leaned against Jim's desk. He was wearing the zip-up, a pair of basketball shorts and had changed his shoes to sneakers (probably to avoid her mocking about basketball shorts and dress shoes, she guessed). "So, are you trying to get sick, or...?"

"I'll be fine," he told her. "You warm enough?"

"I'm good," she said. She noticed Jim absentmindedly tugging on the loose fabric of the sweatpants. She could imagine where his mind was wandering, but going there in front of everyone in the office was not something she was going to think about.

Dwight came out of the conference room. "Attention, everyone! I have an update on our situation."

Once he was satisfied that everyone was paying attention to him, he continued. "According to my police scanner, we're going to be here for a few more hours due to some accidents that are holding up the plows. I suggest everyone get nice and comfy, 'cause we're gonna be here a while."

Angela cleared her throat.

"I want to get some things from my car then," she said. "But I need help."

She looked at Andy, who had the appearance of an overeager puppy that didn't get enough attention. She frowned. She looked at Dwight, who was staring at her with sad, pleading eyes. Her frown deepened. She looked toward the rest of the men in the office before settling her gaze on Jim.

She heaved a deep and labored sigh, then asked, "Jim, will you help me, please?"

Jim looked surprised. He was quite sure that Angela thought he was an ungodly heathen, but then again, if his only other options were Dwight and Andy, he'd pick a heathen too. He straightened in his chair and replied, "Yeah, sure."

"Thank you," Angela said.

After Angela put on her coat, the pair left the office, Jim throwing a look at Pam over his shoulder as they went.

Pam smiled to herself as she tried to imagine Jim dealing with Angela's unique idea of friendly conversation. She walked over to the heater and put her hands out. She pushed the sleeves of the sweatshirt back to her elbows again and moved closer to the heater. She felt someone behind her and, uncomfortable, she turned around.

Andy was standing behind her, trying his best to look nonchalant. He looked around to make sure that no one was close enough to hear their conversation then leaned forward and whispered, "You and Angela are friends, right?"

"Uh... I guess," Pam replied. "As much as someone can be friends with Angela, anyway."

Andy nodded. "And, uh... you and I are friends, right Pam-Pam?"

After a beat, Pam nodded very slowly. "Uh... yeeeah..."

Andy nodded again and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Well, I was wondering, as a friend to a friend of a friend, what is the deal with Angela lately? I mean, has she told you anything about me? Like about my skills in the boudoir? Or -"

"Angela doesn't talk to me about the bedroom," Pam interrupted. She was very glad of that fact, actually.

"Well, I mean, it's hard because we haven't actually done any... bedroom activities if you know what I mean," Andy said. He added a wink for good measure. "In fact, she's been ignoring me. We're back to the necking, Pam. Necking. Literal necking. Just neck on neck action. Do you think she's intimidated because I went to Cornell?"

Pam paused before answering. "Yeah, you know, that is probably it. It's probably Cornell."

"Damn it," Andy swore and stomped his foot on the ground.

Pam opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the power went out. Everyone in the office groaned and grumbled. Now they didn't even have computers to distract them. The emergency lights in the hallway had switched on, causing the light to filter through under the space between the door and the carpet. It was the only light in the office.

Michael screamed and came out of his office like a bat out of hell. "IS EVERYONE ALRIGHT? HAS ANYONE DIED SINCE I'VE BEEN IN MY OFFICE?"

"We're fine, Michael," Pam assured him. "The power just went out, it's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Michael repeated. He scoffed. "Look, Pam, this is just what the vampires were waiting for, okay? They wait for the snow and they wait for the lights to go out then they come in here and grab you and drag you under a house in the wilderness and they drink your blood and they probably boil your brain and have it like Jello. I would say that's a pretty big deal!"

Pam rolled her eyes. Michael had just described the plot of the movie 30 Days of Night, or at least what he had garnered from the previews.

"Vampires are not making Jello shots out of my brain," Michael said in what he thought was a brave tone. "I'm taking a stand. Dwight? The kitchen?"

Dwight nodded fiercely and followed Michael into the kitchen.

The phone rang and Pam answered it, foregoing her usual routine for a simple "Hello?"

"So, we're stuck in the elevator."

It was Jim. Pam sat in her chair behind her desk. She tried to imagine being stuck in an elevator with Angela. "Wow. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Just... stuck in an elevator. Together. Me and Angela. In an elevator."

Pam tried not to grin. Really she did. "I... am so sorry. That is a top ten on my Not To Do list. I'll try to get the power back on for you."

"Thank you."

"No problem. Bye." Pam hung up the phone. She was about to suggest that she go to the fuse box when Michael came back into the room with Dwight trailing him.

Dwight was carrying a large cardboard box. He sneaked into Michael's office and closed the door behind him.

Michael was holding a small container with a green label. He proclaimed, "This will save us."

Michael took the lid off and shook the contents of the container around the room as if he was swinging a lasso above his head. A fine powder wafted around the room and when some landed on Pam's desk, she swept some up with her index finger and smelled it carefully.

"This is garlic powder," she said. She rubbed the powder off her index finger with her thumb. "How is this -"

"It's going to keep the vampires away, Pam. God," Michael said. "You'll thank me when you don't have two giant holes in your neck and you still have all your own blood."

Dwight came out of Michael's office without the cardboard box and moved to stand in front of the main office door.

"And just in case," Michael said as he gestured to Dwight, "I am having Dwight stand guard to make sure that none of you accidentally invites any vampires into the office. That's how they get in - you invite them. Now - wait, where is Jim?"

"He and Angela went to get something out of Angela's car," Pam told him.

Michael shook his head. "Well, they're probably dead. I'm sorry. Dwight, if they come to the door, don't let them in. Especially Angela."

Dwight nodded gravely.

"Michael, this is ridiculous," Oscar said.

"You're ridiculous!" Michael exclaimed. He pointed at Oscar then retreated back into his office, closing the door behind him.

Dwight glared at them all.

Jim settled onto the hard floor of the elevator and rubbed his hands on his bare legs, hoping that would warm them up. At least the office had been warm. There was no heat in the elevator and he was certainly feeling it. He was fairly certain that he now had a ninety-nine percent chance of getting sick, so he was pretty sure he and Pam were going to spend the weekend on the couch, sniffling and coughing and watching bad afternoon television. Except for the sick part, it didn't sound so bad really.

"Here." Angela's voice was soft and low but not warm. It was the sort of tone one used when addressing a puppy that had tangled itself in its leash, annoyed but tolerant of its naive stupidity.

She took off her coat and draped it over Jim's bare legs. She sat down to the right of Jim and crossed her arms.

"Thanks," Jim said. He spread the coat out so that it was covering most of his legs. "You didn't have to -"

"Your wardrobe is completely inappropriate for the weather."

Jim nodded. "Right. Yeah. Pam and I were playing in the snow, so..."

Jim didn't think he'd ever seen anyone be so disinterested in anything he had to say. He focused his attention forward. He wanted to say something, just because it seemed a little ridiculous to be stuck in an elevator with someone and not say anything, but he wasn't sure that he had enough anecdotes about cats or babies dressed as adults to keep Angela interested.

He took his cell phone from the pocket of his zip-up and dialed the office number.

After two rings Pam picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey. What's the word on the power?"

"Well, we're not allowed to leave the office right now. Dwight is guarding the door. To keep the vampires out."

"You're lying," Jim said. His brow furrowed as he tried to figure out the punchline before Pam could deliver it.

"No, I wish. Michael came out of his office and said this is what the vampires have been waiting for. If I wasn't so sure that Dwight would mace me if I tried to get past him, I would have tried by now. I guess you're gonna be stuck in the elevator for a little while, sorry."

"Any tips on that, by the way? I don't know what to..." Jim let his sentence hang in the air. He cast a sideways glance at Angela. "I'm lost here."

"Just wait for her to talk to you. She's not going to find anything you say funny, so I wouldn't even bother. Having a conversation with Angela is... an art form."

"Well, you are an artist."

Jim could hear the smile in her voice when she replied, "Yeah. I wish I could give you something to talk to her about, but... well, I guess if she decides to talk to you you'll find out for yourself. Just remember that she probably disapproves of almost everything you've done in your life and you should be fine."

"That is really inspiring. Thank you."

"I'm just being real with y -"

"Did you just say 'being real'? Have you been watching vintage rap videos on YouTube again, dawg?" he asked and smirked to himself.

"'Kay, I'm hanging up now, jerk."

"All right, I'll talk to you later, home slice."

"I hate you."

"Oh, hey, before you hang up on me, do you think you could transfer me to DJ Jazzy Jeff?"

He smiled when he heard the dial tone. He closed his phone and put it back in his pocket.

Ten minutes passed silently. Jim was sure that Angela wasn't going to speak to him at all the entire time, but she surprised him.

"Did Pam say anything about the power?" she asked quietly.

Jim turned to look at her, unable to hide his shocked expression. "Uh, yeah. She said that Michael's not letting them leave the office, so they can't get to the fuse box. He's got Dwight guarding the door and everything, so... yeah."

Angela's frown deepened when she heard that all too familiar name. She had been doing a lot of frowning and sighing lately and she was frankly tired of it. If she wasn't thinking about Dwight and trying to decide if she hated him or loved him, she was being generally annoyed by Andy. She heard what everyone in the office said about her. They spoke in low tones, but she heard things like "more difficult than usual" and, as Kelly put it, "bitchy." But she didn't care. Kelly was whorish, anyway.

She looked over at Jim. He was all limbs. Her coat barely covered his legs. He leaned his head against the elevator wall and she looked away. She knew that Jim and Dwight shared a unique kinship - "frienemies" she once heard Pam joke.

Angela just wanted to talk to someone.

Kelly had set up her collection of various scented candles around the office to offer more light. The various scents mingled in the air and Pam felt nauseous. Kelly was chattering away to her, but the only thing Pam could concentrate on was trying to avoid a headache and not be sick.

"...so then, I'm like, Oh no! Do I wear the Raspberry Sunset lip gloss or the Banana Sunrise lip gloss? Because that is a major decision that could affect, like, my whole life, you know? It's serious business. You can't play around with lip gloss in situations like that."

Kelly paused to look Pam over. She routinely did this in an effort to help her friend Pam. Pam used to spend every day as a fashion don't, but Kelly was slowly starting to approve of Pam's wardrobe, which was shocking and a little scary she had to admit.

"The messy ponytail is so 2004," Kelly said, "but you make it work. I think it's the curls. My hair is straight and shiny so it doesn't really work for me, but with the curls you can't tell if your hair is just really gross and messy."

"Right," Pam offered. Conversations with Kelly were sort of like what Pam imagined talking to an excited squirrel that liked make-up would be like.

Kelly absentmindedly scratched at the label of a scented candle with her perfectly manicured fingernail. "So, Pam, how are things with Jim? Totally perfect, right?"

"Right," Pam said. This response held more conviction than her last. "I'm really happy.

"Great," Kelly said. "Because you totally deserve it. Roy was a jerk. Sorry, but he was. He had that macho thing, but he was a jerk. It sucks when you fall in love with a jerk and he kind of ruins your life."

Pam frowned. When Kelly let her peppy veneer fall away at moments like this and she let you see that other part of her - the part that didn't care if her lip gloss was a sunrise or a sunset - it made Pam want to give her a hug, because that other part of Kelly never seemed to be happy at all.

"Well, in my experience," Pam said, "you have to go through a jerk to get to the right one. Jerks are like... they're like that Friday you go into the mall and there aren't any sales and those right guys, the special ones, are the Sunday mornings when you go into the mall and everything is fifty percent off."

Kelly smiled. Finally, Pam spoke her language. "Yeah. I just need a sale. I'm sick of full-price douchebags."

"Exactly," Pam said and smiled. "In the end, it all ends up being worth it."

"Really?"

"Really."

Kelly nodded. She smoothed the corner of the label that she had been scratching at. "Hey, there's actually a sale at Boscov's this weekend. If we, like, don't completely die here today, you wanna go and get some absolutely adorable sweaters?"

Pam smiled softly. "Sure."

"Great. I'll talk to you later," Kelly said. She walked off to the break room.

Pam picked up the phone and dialed Jim's cell phone.

"So, how's everything?"

"Um, okay, I guess. No new developments."

"Well, I think Kelly and I are best friends now," Pam told him. "We're going shopping this weekend. I don't really know how it happened."

"What a fun time for you. I'm insanely jealous, though. Getting to spend an entire afternoon with her? You'll have to tell me all about it after. I want to know what shade of pink you two decide is best. I bet it won't be desert rose. I'm pulling for - what was that color you put in that oil pastel scene you did last week?"

"Persian pink."

"Yeah. I hope that one wins."

Pam smiled into the receiver. "I'll keep you updated. Constant calls, I promise."

"You forgot to call me a jerk that time."

"Mm, you're not a jerk," she replied quietly.

Angela crossed her arms and stretched her legs. She looked at the ceiling then back down to the floor. She grew bored of the pattern on the floor and looked over at Jim. He was sitting in the same position as she was, but his head was resting on the wall and his eyes were closed.

Angela bit her bottom lip. She needed to talk to someone. What she wanted was to talk to Pam because Pam was very good at pretending that she didn't know who they were really talking about. Pam also had a lot of problems, so Angela was sure that she wasn't introducing anything new to Pam. Pam was sort of like the first mouse in the maze that had already managed to find the cheese.

She examined Jim closely. She still wasn't sure what to think of him - Dwight said he was sort of an idiot, but now Angela felt like Dwight was an idiot, so she was reasonably conflicted. All the debauchery aside, Jim seemed like an okay person. He was good to Pam, which Pam deserved - not that Angela would ever say that out loud. She wanted to, sometimes. Sometimes she wanted to go for coffee with Pam again and ask her advice - real advice, with real names and everything, not just "my friend has a friend." But she wouldn't, couldn't.

"I'm not a bad person," she said with a sigh. She hadn't really meant to say it out loud, but she wasn't really sorry it happened.

Jim opened his eyes slowly and turned to look at her. He was expecting to see the usual hard, judgmental expression on her face, but was surprised to find tenderness hidden in her eyes. "Hmm?"

"It's just... I mean, a friend of mine - she's not a bad person," Angela said. She stared down into her lap. "I have a friend who had... a... friend and this friend did something to my friend, something that she can't easily forgive. It's a trust issue... for them, I mean."

"It's tough to be in... that friend's position, I'm sure," Jim told her carefully. He didn't want to scare her off the conversation, even if he had no idea how to go about it. "I'm not sure you know the effect it really has on... this friend. What happened was something that... well, I'm sure that this friend thought he was doing your friend a favor. The friend was only trying to help, to make things better for... your friend. Love isn't about being perfect - it's knowing that someone is still going to be there for you when you make a mistake."

Angela looked down into her lap and mumbled, "Maybe you won't go to hell after all."

Jim smirked and shook his head.

Pam was playing solitaire the old-fashioned way (with no tth-tth-tth sound, sadly) when Kevin came out of the break room.

"There is no food in there or the kitchen," he announced. He held a wad of one dollar bills tightly in his fist. "I wanted some chips."

"How is there no food?" Oscar asked. "Those vending machines were full."

"They're all empty," Kevin said. "And most of the soda is sold out."

Oscar got up from his desk and went in to the break room. For a lack of anything better to do, Pam, Toby, and Kevin followed him in.

All the vending machines were indeed empty, except for an apple in the vending machine that dispensed fresh foods.

"How is this possible?" Pam asked.

Toby was pressing buttons on the soda machine. Most of them were reading Sold Out. "I don't know."

"I am starving," Kevin complained again. He rested his forehead on one of the empty machines.

Pam felt a little guilty about the wasted Pop Tarts that were covered in snow on the roof, but didn't mention it. She shrugged. "Maybe Michael knows something about it. He was the first one in today. Maybe nobody came to fill them today."

The four of them went to Michael's office and Oscar knocked on the door.

After a few minutes, Michael opened the door. He had a smudge of chocolate on the corner of his mouth and chip crumbs were dribbled down the front of his shirt. He smiled. "What's up, amigo?"

"The vending machines are empty," Oscar said. "We're all getting hungry and that's the only food we have here right now."

"Weeeeiiiiiiird," Michael said. "Well, there is an apple in there, so, you can split it, or..."

"How do you know about the apple?" Pam asked.

"All right, see you later," Michael said.

He tried to slam the door but Oscar pushed against it. They struggled for a few minutes before Michael was thrown back and Oscar pushed the door open. The four of them walked into the office. Michael had one candle lit, but that was enough light for them to see all they needed.

Spread on Michael's desk and on the floor were various vending machine items. He had soda stacked along the wall.

"He's hoarding food!" Oscar exclaimed.

"No! Get out!" Michael exclaimed. "I brought all this from home! Jan made it!"

Kevin picked up a package of Ding Dongs from Michael's desk.

Michael frowned. "She... made... those..."

"You can't hoard food," Toby said and sighed.

"It's every man for himself," Michael said. "Sorry, Pam. You're not a man, you don't get anything."

Dwight burst into Michael's office. "What is going on here?"

"Michael's hoarding food," Pam told him, even though she was pretty sure Dwight was in on the plan.

"We'll be out of here in a few hours," Oscar said. "What made you think this was a good idea?"

"I thought I was going to die," Michael said. "Vampires."

He grimaced. "But now I just have a stomachache."

Everyone shook their heads and gathered the food in their arms then left Michael's office. They deposited the food on Jim's desk so everyone could access it. Kevin unwrapped a candy bar happily.

"Well, now that we can get out, I think I'm gonna see if I can go get the power back on," Pam said.

"I'll go with you," Toby said. He looked surprised by his own voice.

Pam shrugged. "Yeah, okay. I'll get a flashlight."

After Pam retrieved the flashlight from a kit behind her desk, she and Toby left the office and made their way down the hall to the fuse box.

Pam felt uncomfortable with the silence. "So, at least we don't have to deal with Michael right now. I can't believe him sometimes."

"Yeah, that's another reason to do this."

"I hope it gets the elevator working," Pam said as they reached the fuse box. "I'd hate for Jim and Angela to be stuck in there for the rest of the night."

She opened the fuse box and shone the light on the switches. "I wonder which one it is..."

"Uh... can I ask you something?" He sounded uncomfortable. "Or, uh, get your advice or opinion, or...?"

"Sure," Pam replied. She continued to look over the switches. "Shoot."

"I was, uh, wondering..." Toby faltered. "It's just that I..."

When he didn't finish his sentence, Pam turned and looked at him. "Something wrong?"

"No," he answered slowly. "I guess it's just... weird to say. But, um, I have this... crush, I guess you might say, on someone, but she's in a relationship. I want to tell her, but I don't want it to be weird because we're together a lot."

Pam nodded to show she was taking the information in. She looked back to the fuse box and began examining the switches again, running her fingers over the tiny labels. "Well, I think it depends on how strongly you feel."

She smirked to herself. "Is it Phyllis? Or anyone I know?"

Toby was silent. He reached his hand up to the fuse box, his fingers brushing purposefully across the back of Pam's hand as he reached for one of the switches. He said quietly, "I think it's this one."

He flipped the switch and lights blinked on. Toby's hand fell to his side.

Pam slowly closed the fuse box. She looked up at Toby, her brow furrowed.

"I think," she said slowly, "that... this woman probably thinks you're a good friend and wouldn't want to ruin that friendship. And I think that she's with who she's with because she's in love with him. But that's just my... guess..."

Toby nodded slowly. "Right. Yeah. Of course."

Pam offered a small, sad smile. She switched off the flashlight and walked back to the office.

Toby sighed and leaned against the wall, the back of his head resting on the cool surface of the fuse box's metal door.

Pam sat in her chair and set the flashlight on the desk. She felt... weird. The more she thought about it, the more sense she supposed it made. But, she had to admit, she never saw it coming. She felt bad because she knew what it felt to be rejected and it was the second time she had rejected someone on company property. She was sick of all the unrequited love that seemed to breed within Dunder-Mifflin. She needed a new job.

She decided not to tell Jim, because she felt like that would open a whole new world of awkward. Besides, it wasn't like Jim had anything to worry about. Today was one of the strangest days she'd spent in the office. She rebooted her computer and put the flashlight back into the kit under her desk. It oddly felt like the start of a new day.

The door to the office opened and Angela walked in, followed by Jim. They had foregone the trip to Angela's car and returned to the office without Angela's provisions.

Angela turned to face Jim. "I, well... thank you... for agreeing to help me with my things, even if we didn't get the chance."

Before Jim could reply, Angela turned on her heel and walked away.

Jim walked over to Pam. He blew out a puff of air and rolled his eyes. "That was interesting."

"Did you two have a talk?" Pam asked.

"Oh, yeah," Jim said. "We're BFF, just like you and Kelly. We're gonna go to a church picnic and paint religious pottery later on. Sorry, you can't come - it's a Jesus thing."

"That's too bad," Pam said. "I'm really broken up about that. Make me a Last Supper spare change dish, will you?"

"Already in the kiln," Jim said and smirked. He noticed that Angela had walked over to Andy and pointed it out to Pam.

"Andy, you may not call me again," Angela said sternly. "We will not date again and we will maintain a strictly professional relationship. That is all."

Angela turned away from him. She noticed that Dwight had come out of Michael's office and she said curtly, "Hello, Dwight. How are you today?"

Dwight perked up. He said evenly, "I'm well. Thank you, Angela."

"There are some forms that require your signature at my desk," Angela said. "You may stop by any time tonight to... sign them. I will be... at my desk all night."

"I understand," Dwight replied. The corner of his mouth quirked up almost imperceptibly.

Angela nodded and walked to her desk, a small smile of her own threatening to appear.

Pam hid her smile behind her hand and turned to look at Jim. She whispered, "What happened in that elevator?"

Jim smiled. "If we make it out of this office alive, I'll tell you over dinner."

Andy meandered over to the reception desk and sighed. He drummed his fingers on the desk's surface. "Pam, I'm distraught."

"I'm sorry," Pam said. "Sometimes things don't work out how you plan."

Andy nodded. "Yeah. It's just... I'm pretty sure she's a tiger in the sack and I'm really upset I'm gonna be missing out on that."

"Wow, didn't want to know," Jim muttered.

Andy either didn't hear the comment or was trying to ignore it. He perked up suddenly. "How serious do you think Kelly is about Darryl? 'Cause I -"

"No," Pam interrupted. "No, you don't want to go there."

"I'm really interested in Indian culture," Andy said.

Pam was pretty sure he was only interested in the karma sutra. "No, Andy. I think you need to try dating someone you don't work with. Maybe branch out a little. I think that would be healthy for you."

"Okay," Andy said. He nodded. "So, if you and Tuna don't work out..."

"That's not branching out," Pam said and sighed.

Andy nodded again and wandered back to his desk.

"I'm like everybody's agony aunt today," Pam said, rubbing her forehead. "At least I'm not going sweater shopping with Andy."

"He probably has really good taste in sweaters," Jim said. "I'm gonna go get him and tell him he should go with you. Hey, An -"

Pam jumped up and covered Jim's mouth with her hand. She pulled it away when Jim licked her palm. She feigned absolute disgust and wiped her hand on Jim's shirt then slapped him in the arm playfully.

"That is just gross. I don't know where that thing's been."

Jim raised his eyebrows suggestively and she hit him in the arm again.

"But, really, I'm gonna let him know to meet you guys at the mall," Jim said. He pushed away from the desk and took a step forward.

Pam ran around the reception desk and stood in front of him. She pushed on his chest, trying to push him back into the couch near the door.

"I'm doing it for you," Jim said. He playfully fought back. "You need this in your life!"

"No!" Pam cried, a peal of laughter punctuating her sentence.

They struggled back forth for a few minutes, laughing at the other's attempts to move the other person. Finally, Pam hooked her foot around Jim's ankle and pushed him backward onto the couch. The force from her push and the fact that Jim's hands were on her waist caused her to fall half on top of him. She had her hands on his shoulders, one foot was on the floor while her knee rested on the couch cushion, steadying her.

They shared another laugh and Jim pushed the hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ears.

"I win," Pam said and grinned. "I am victorious."

"I only let you win 'cause you're the girlfriend," Jim told her. "You and your girlfriend privileges."

Pam's response was to stick her tongue out at him.

The door to the office opened and they turned to see who had come in. It was Toby, looking more dejected than usual.

Pam straightened and said softly, "Hi, Toby."

Toby only nodded and walked away.

Jim pulled himself to his feet. He put his hands in the pocket of Pam's sweatshirt and looked down at her, smiling warmly. "So, I'm thinking that since the roads are gonna be so dangerous this weekend, we should hibernate and eat chicken soup all weekend."

"Hmm," Pam said. She rested her forehead against his chest. "Bad Lifetime movies and everything?"

Jim bent down to kiss the top of her head. He mumbled into her hair, "Read my mind."

"Aw, I love you. Love you too. Muah, muah, kissy kiss."

Pam and Jim separated at Michael's words. They both stared at their boss.

"No, come on," Michael said. "I want to hear you say it. You loooooove each other."

Pam and Jim turned to each other and shook hands.

Michael walked over to them and put his arm around Pam's shoulder so that she was positioned between himself and Jim. He opened his mouth to speak, but then smirked.

"Oh, Jim and I are having a Pammwich!" he observed, grinning.

Pam shuddered and Jim winced at all the sorts of things "a Pammwich" with Michael implied. Pam thought she was going to throw up right there and then.

"Please admit your undying love to the office," Michael said. "You're Dunder-Mifflin's hottest couple, you know."

The entire office was watching them now. Most of them looked bored or uninterested, except for Kevin, who was smiling inappropriately. Pam could see Toby staring at her and looked down at the floor.

Pam cleared her throat. "I'm not doing this, Michael."

Jim stared at the ceiling and muttered, "Same."

"Come on," Michael pleaded. "Just say it. Your tender love will keep us warm through the night. Jim, tell Pam how much you love her. Pam, tell Jim how much you like touching his hot, naked body."

"Michael," Toby said, "this is extremely inappropriate, and -"

"Why are you so bitter and alone!?" Michael exclaimed. "Why do you hate love, Toby? Huh? Especially so close to Christmas. Did you get divorced because you hate Christmas? So Jim and Pam are probably going to go home and get naked and touch each other! So what? It's what I'm going to do! With Jan. On Thursday. Because that's the day we... just... nevermind."

Michael shook his head and tightened his grip on Jim and Pam.

"Anyway. I now pronounce you two a couple," Michael said. He pulled Pam in for a hug that she didn't return. "Enjoy the sex."

Pam pulled away from Michael and shook her head. She wasn't sure if her day could possibly get any more awkward. She regretted ever leaving the roof.

Jim edged closer to her and playfully bumped her hip with his, but not enough for anyone else to notice.

She smiled down at the floor.

Dwight stood up at his desk and raised his hands in the air. "EVERYONE! NEWS! Gather round!"

Nobody moved. He scowled, but continued on. "I have just received an email from one of my informants, and -"

"Wait, do you hear that?" Kelly interrupted.

Pam listened closely. She could barely hear the rhythmic beeping sound, but she did hear it. It sounded like a truck backing up. She perked up immediately and rushed into Michael's office with Kelly.

They looked out the window and saw a snowplow making its way down the street.

Kelly clapped her hands and jumped up and down then hugged Pam. Pam returned that hug. They rushed out of Michael's office and told everyone the news.

"No, no, not possible," Dwight said. "I've been told that we'll be stuck here until tomorrow afternoon!"

"We saw it, Dwight," Kelly said. "It's a plow. We're totally going home!"

Jim shook his head at Dwight. "And I thought you knew things."

Dwight grumbled an insult, but it was lost among the noise of everyone cheering and gathering their things together. Pam collected her clothes from the women's bathroom then went back to her desk. As she was shutting down her computer, Jim came over and leaned on the desk.

"So, you, me, my place, chicken noodle soup?"

Pam nodded. "A thousand times yes."

As they talked, people filtered out of the office to dig their cars out of the snow and go home.

Toby was one of the last people to leave. He stopped in front of the reception desk and Pam's heart dropped. He looked sadder than usual. She felt bad, but she wouldn't apologize for being in love with Jim. She offered a small smile.

Toby put a piece of paper on the desk and slid it toward Jim with his index finger.

"I hope you guys are really happy," Toby said. He gave a half-hearted smile and left the office.

Jim flipped the paper over and read it. "It's our HR papers."

"To make us official?" Pam asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Yep," Jim said. "Finally, our relationship will have meaning."

Pam smirked. She grabbed a pen from her desk and signed the paper. Jim took the pen from her and signed his name below hers.

"This is a milestone," Jim said as he set the pen down.

"Definitely."

Jim grinned widely.

"So, you wanna go home and celebrate?"

The End.