He watched her eyes, watched the emotions flash through them with the tiniest smile of pure pleasure.  He flexed his hands and felt her gasp, reading her thoughts through her expressions.  Trust, acceptance, primal excitement, then doubt, fear, disbelief, panic and struggle.  

Now, finally, regret. 

His brows slammed down as rage rose within him.  She regretted him?  He squeezed harder, her struggles rapidly weakening as the finality of death settled upon her.  He watched impassively as the tremors took her body, blood vessels bursting and marring her beautiful green eyes.  

Then she was still. 

He tightened his grip once more, making absolutely sure she was gone.  He was surprised to find his own breath ragged, rapid bursts of steam punctuating the cold air around him.  

He wrinkled his nose at the sudden stench - her body had finally let go and all manner of waste had been evacuated.  The utter indignity of death had always disgusted him.

He gave her a final shake, her hair bouncing in the cold night air, then deftly folded her already stiffening body into the waiting chest, snapping the locks and enjoying the finality of the ‘clicks'.  

As he shoved the heavy box off the bow the voices of the remaining revelers reached his ears.  He quickly stepped away from the railing, running his fingers through his hair and adjusting his coat, the pretty former cheerleader now something less than a memory, reduced to a worrying niggle at the back of his mind.

"Hey man!  Where ya been?  Ech!  What is that smell?"

"I think someone got a little seasick over there.  Gross.  So, ready to go?"

"Yeah - totally cool of you to drive us back, man.  Old reliable Halpert, huh?  Hey, where's Katy?"

"She had to go - she wasn't feeling well so I put her in a cab.  To be honest, I think she kinda dumped me tonight."   

"Aw man!  It's the circle of life, huh?"

His eyebrows shot up, hidden in the mop of hair on his forehead.  Could he have seen something?

"Uh - what?"

"Oh, you know what I mean man.  I mean, here, me and Pam, celebrating our life together, and then Katy just dumps you, ends it.  That, like, sucks man." 

"Uh - yeah.  Sucks."

"Well, I can't say I really saw you guys long term.  I mean she was hot and all, but yeah - you never seemed together."

Sometimes Roy amazed him.

"Just keep your mitts away from my Pammie.  Ya can't have her!"  The big man snorted at his own joke, drunkenly slapping Jim on the back as he laughed.

"Ha - uh - yeah, hands off.  C'mon Roy, go grab Pam and Darryl and I'll drop you back."

He watched his nemesis lumber back inside and then spun, quickly scanning the water for anything that would incriminate him.  He saw nothing but a few bubbles as his secret quickly buried itself in the muck under the water.

Jim drained the last of his beer, savoring the cool liquid tingling down his throat.  It had been an interesting day. 

This morning, he'd been so excited to show off his skills, show people he was actually really good at something, other than playing pranks and being ‘charming'. He was excited to beat Roy at a physical activity, and not just dominate him intellectually.  And he had.  And it had been great, he'd been flying above the world, enjoying the fact that he had schooled Roy on the court and that she had seen.  

And then it all came crashing down.

"Let's get you into a tub."

Six little words had ruined his wonderful day.  Hell, if he was honest, six little words had probably ruined his whole damn life.  And those six little words had definitely ruined the life of Susan... or was it Sarah?  

He shrugged as he realized that in the long run, it really didn't matter.  

He drained the beer bottle and shoved it in a plastic grocery bag.  He looked over at the dead blonde, her unseeing eyes gaping at the casualness with which he was treating her demise.  

"Well, let's get this show on the road, shall we?  I've got a long drive tonight."

He'd been doing this for long enough to know the basics.  He donned a pair of gloves and used a dishcloth to quickly wipe down all of the surfaces he'd touched in her unassuming apartment. 

He remembered her glancing at him under her lashes as he sat at the bar, nursing his beer. 

She'd lit up when he'd approached and offered to buy her a drink, and he found himself wishing that she could be the one, that she could make him forget.  But as he followed her home, he realized that she could never replace her, and as poor Susan or Sarah pressed her body against his, her lips capturing his mouth and her tongue tasting him, he realized she wasn't even a cheap imitation of his true love. 

He hadn't made her suffer.  She was just a simple woman, after all, out for some affection in Philly on a Friday night, but she just wasn't worthy.  He'd eased her into death, watching the parade of emotions pass across her face, the final look of helpless acceptance causing him to relax his grip just a little. 

He quickly appraised her limp figure, roughly rubbing the cloth across the skin he'd caressed just a quarter of an hour earlier.  He ran a latex sheathed thumb across her full lower lip, and gently closed her blindly staring eyes.   

He easily lifted her slight frame and headed for the bathroom, placing her in the tub and pulling the curtain shut.  He stripped her of the rest of her clothing, shoving it into a bag, and started the shower, making sure the water was warm.  He knew it would eventually run cold, but he wanted her to be as comfortable as possible while he was still there.  

He made sure the water was draining, checking her hair to make sure it was thoroughly rinsed and that all traces of him were washed away.  He smirked to himself as he murmured, "Let's get you into a tub."  

He left her there and made a quick check of the rest of the apartment for anything that could tie him to her.  Finding nothing, he grabbed the plastic bags and left, locking the door behind him.  He'd drop her clothes in a dumpster on his way out of town, and he'd toss the beer bottle in with his recycling. 

He had to do his part, after all, for a greener tomorrow. 

Turning his back to the camera crew he tried to control his pace as he walked towards his car, his mind racing as he finally allowed himself to feel.  He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, feeling her soft lips pressed up against his, her arms wrapped around his neck.  If only... 

His shoe scraped gravel and the rough sound pulled him back to the present.  He shot a quick glance over his shoulder, hiding his frustration as he saw the red light of the ever present camera winking at him.  He waved goodnight and went back into the restaurant, this time headed straight for the bar.  He yearned for something stronger than beer, something that would bite him back, but for the moment his choices were limited to the chain restaurant's meager array of ‘top shelf' tequilas. 

"Jack, rocks," he ordered finally, the bourbon taking him back to his college days, a simpler time.  He was in the mood to dwell on memories tonight.  The soft fullness of Pam's lips pressed against his mouth, the struggle to seem surprised, to act as if he were just playing along.  He'd seen Oscar's knowing look and Angela's scowl.  The slightest reciprocation from him, the gentle pressure he'd managed to return to her mouth before she'd slid back down his frame, taking salvation with her.  He rattled the ice cubes in the glass, watching the deep amber of the liquor seep into the crevices, noting the ice melting.  Second drink.

"Um, excuse me, can I ask you a question?"

He was rudely snatched back from his reverie, pulled into the present by an innocent phrase from his recent past. Was he was really just a friend who'd been in the right place at the right time, when she was at the right stage of inebriation?  He tried to stem the cold fury in his eyes as he focused on the interloper.

She was young, hesitant, her teeth nervously biting down on her lower lip.  He took in her wide blue eyes, her stick straight hair.  Blonde.

"What is it?" his tone was clipped.  He didn't have patience for Blondie and her gaggle of friends tonight.  He just wanted to be... well, he'd rather be alone.

He saw the play of emotions run across her face, and she shot a quick glance over her shoulder, her friends egging her on.  She straightened her spine, more confident now.  He could practically read her mind, these small town girls were all the same.  Well, almost all.

"I - um, so," she trailed off as his expression remained forbidding, his heavy eyebrows lowering into a scowl.  He could see her pulse fluttering under the delicate skin of her neck.  He was tempted for a moment, tempted to show her, tempted to take her.  He wasn't just a toy, an object, he was not a substitute.  He shot an annoyed glance over her shoulder, meant as a dismissal, and then he saw it.  The telltale red dot that followed him everywhere.

Gritting his teeth, he shot back the last of his drink and pasted a wide smile on his face.

"Sorry, I've had a long day.  Is there something I can do for you, or," he pulled out the patented Halpert charm with a roll of his eyes, lifting his shoulders.  As much as he would have enjoyed taking her home for a few minutes of blind satisfaction, his pound of flesh, so to speak, there were too many outside factors.  Jim Halpert was not a dummy after all.  An ounce of caution had gotten him this far.

He chatted amiably for a few minutes, then extracted himself with a reluctant smile, citing an early morning. 

He could feel the red light burning into his back as he dragged his feet through the gravel lot, waving to the late crew as he folded himself into his hatchback and headed home.  Though she would never know it, the unblinking eye of the camera had been Blondie's guardian angel tonight, protecting her from the veiled monsters lurking in the shadows.  Jim bit back a sigh as he wondered when his own angel was going to abandon him.