Jim Halpert just wanted to get home.

What had started out as any other day in the paper-selling business had ended with an afternoon trip to Philadelphia to appease a large client who had received ten cases of the wrong color paper. After a four-hour round trip to apologize profusely and deliver the correct shade of cream-colored letterhead, the end of his sojourn appeared near as he picked out his house with the blinking red and green Christmas lights lining the roof.

With the recent closing of two branches, and layoffs hitting the Scranton branch hard, Jim had been putting in extra hours before the holidays to help keep the office afloat and it was starting to wear him down.  All he wanted to do was kick off his shoes and hang out with his wife and daughter before they put Olivia to bed.

As he was nearing his driveway, his cell phone buzzed:

Jim smiled at the double meaning as he continued past his house and back toward the drug store. He looked down at the clock. It read 9:54. If he stepped on it, he would be able to make it before they closed. He found a close parking spot and slipped in the front entrance with a minute to spare.

His recent experience as a new Dad had allowed him to become friendly with the drug store staff. He couldn’t count how many times he had made a late night run to grab medicine for the baby, or a snack for his wife’s random cravings. The night shift manager gave him a friendly wave as he made his way to the back of the store.

Jim scanned the cooler of milk. So many choices. He could never remember what brand his wife preferred. There were many things Jim did remember when it came to his wife -- like the time he knew she was the one he wanted to marry. Or, the way her face lit up when she smiled just so. But milk preference was not on that list.

His phone gently buzzed in his hand: The white kind. ;p

Jim sighed.

He knew this would get a reaction out of her.

He smiled to himself.

Jim snapped his phone shut and walked to the front of the store. He was surprised to see a short line forming at the lone open register. He opened his phone and began typing a message to his wife to say he’d be home shortly when he heard a familiar voice coming from the front of the line. He looked up and saw a sight he thought he would never see again. Maybe it was a little shorter, and they were definitely a bit looser than last he remembered, but there was no mistaking whose curly hair he was looking at.

“Pam?”

The woman in front of him turned around, thinking Jim was addressing her, as the intended recipient of his query stood up ramrod straight at the sound of his voice. With a slight hesitancy born from years of wishful thinking, Pam Beesly slowly turned around. The look of shock on her face betrayed the calmness she was hoping to exude.

She stood there for a second -- blinked once to assure herself it was really him -- before she managed to squeak out a dry, raspy response that made her sound like she had been trapped in the desert for many days without water and was finally being rescued.

“Hi, Jim.”

And as she gazed upon him for the first time in five years, she thought, in a way, that was exactly what this felt like.

By Pam's best estimate, it had been more than 2,000 days since she last laid eyes on Jim Halpert. During that time, she convinced herself that if she never saw him again, she could live with her last contact with him coming in the form of that searing, throw-off-your-equilibrium kind of kiss in the darkened office.

But now she’s not so sure.

The sight of him, with that same tall frame and floppy hairdo, unleashes memories she had tried so hard all these years to stash within the dark recesses of her brain.

Dundies and Dwight Schrute.

Flonkerton and Foreman grills.

Grilled cheese and secret gifts.

She is so shocked at this meeting that she nearly forgets to pay for her items. The woman behind the counter finally pulls her from her daze long enough to finish the transaction. With that out of the way, she can only think of one thing to say to Jim.

“What are you doing here?”

It’s such a blunt question. He didn’t really know what to expect. Maybe in his crazy, warped mind, he expected a proclamation of love. But this isn’t five years ago.

“Uh, buying milk?” He smirks and looks down at the milk gallon for more answers. It remains in his hand, inanimate.

“No, I mean, in Scranton? This is probably the last place I ever expected to see you, if I ever saw you again.”

Her last words register with him.

“Actually, you know what? I’d rather not continue this conversation here. The milk will probably spoil. I know it’s late, but do you want to grab a coffee.”

Pam never thought in her wildest dreams she’d ever be put in this position. She had fought so hard to forget him. Even her friends, at one point, told her to her face that she needed to give up on him. That the opportunity had passed her by. It took her a long time to believe them, but over the past year or so, she felt like she had made progress. She was even in a steady relationship. A first for her since that fateful night. But fate is what brought them together tonight.

“I’d love to.”

*********************

They decide on Chick’s Diner, because it’s not Cugino’s or the rooftop of the Dunder-Mifflin building. And it’s open. That helps.

The waitress seats them and hands them menus. Jim declines and orders a cup of coffee. Pam does the same.

“Coffee? That’s not the Pam Beesley I remember.”

“Yeah, well, that was Pam From Five Years Ago. Your currently in the company of Pam Five Years Later.”

Jim can’t help but still be amazed by her. That quick wit. That smile. It’s like absolutely nothing has changed. Except, it has. Pam looks at him as he takes a careful sip of his coffee.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’re back here?”

Jim sets down his coffee cup and decides he at least owes her this.

“You’re never going to believe this.”

“Try me.”

“Okay. I sell paper for Dunder-Mifflin.” He raises his eyebrows as if to say ’I told you that you wouldn’t believe it’.

Pam’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head. He’s certain that if she had a full swig of coffee in her mouth at the time, he would be wearing it right now.

“Yep.“ There’s a bit of disappointment in his voice, but Pam doesn’t say a word. Maybe she would have, five years ago. “I, uh, have continued my tenure at the Scranton branch. I just moved back from Philadelphia and I was in need of a job, so I looked them up. Turns out the Albany and Stamford branches shut down last year, so we do actual work now. I stay very busy, if you can believe it.”

Pam isn’t sure if she should take that at face value, or if it’s a personal dig. So she dismisses the very thought from her brain.

“So, what’s it like?” she asks.

He lets out a deep breath.

“Oh my god, Pam. It’s totally different.”

“What? Does Michael actually do work, as well?” She grins a little, but Jim doesn’t reciprocate. He just has a weird look on his face.

“No, Pam - it’s the weirdest thing. Michael doesn’t actually work there anymore.”

For the second time tonight, Jim is sure he should be covered in coffee. Thank goodness for slow service.

“Are you kidding me?” Her shout draws a few looks, but she doesn’t care.

“No, I’m not. And neither does Dwight. Or Phyllis. In fact, the only person you would know is Toby. He got me the job. We stayed in touch after I left. Everyone else has moved on.”

The mere mention of his leaving adds an uncomfortable air to the conversation. Neither of them knows if it should be addressed. So, Jim continues.

“It’s just so weird. You, of all people, would know what I’m talking about. I mean, I had so many good memories. Now it’s just like any other office. I come in, do my work, and leave. I knew it wouldn’t be the same going back, but I guess I kind of hoped it would resemble the old days a little. Because I truly liked working there.”

Part of her is in disbelief hearing that Toby is the lone holdover. She wonders what became of Dwight, Michael, and the rest of her old co-workers. It saddens her that that chapter of her life will never duplicate itself. But the other part of her realizes things change. People don’t stay at one job forever. Someone who may have been your best friend then might not have that same magnetism five years later. Life goes on and the best we can do is keep up.

She looks down at his coffee mug when she hears the faint clink of his wedding band against the porcelain. It’s not as upsetting as she once thought it would be to find out Jim Halpert was married. But she’s a little pissed off that this is how she finds out. It might not be a great idea to open old wounds, but she figures after five years, and too many nights wondering why this happened, she wants answers.

“I quit a month after you quit. Did you know that?” She locks eyes with his so he can’t back down. Jim Halpert has never been one to confront a challenge; she knows that. But this is too important.

“I did. Toby sent me an e-mail the day you put in your two-week notice.” She notices that he looks extremely uncomfortable. That wasn’t her intention when she agreed to coffee -- none of this was -- but it’s out there and it needs to be finished.

“I decided two weeks was enough. Without you working across from me, I had no purpose. I was a fucking 27-year-old secretary, Jim. That alone should have been enough motivation to leave. But if you were still there, I never would have. So in a way, I guess I can thank you for dropping that bomb on me.” Jim looks at Pam and sees how deadly serious she is being.

If he’s honest, the first two years were painful for him. He knew he made a mistake by walking out. But there was absolutely no way he wanted to be around after the wedding. He would rather drink himself silly every night and pretend she was single and available, than sell paper in the same office as Mrs. Roy Anderson. So he put it all out there that night. And it went about as horribly wrong as possible. He was so sure of her response. But as he left the building and walked back to his car, he figured he didn’t know her as well as he thought. He made a decision to move on. And, unfortunately for him, it was one of the few decisions in his life he had stuck with.

“I broke up with Roy the very next day.”

Jim is thankful he doesn’t have a mouthful of coffee, because he’s certain she would be wearing it. Her statement is like a sucker punch to the gut. For a moment, nobody speaks.

“In hindsight, that was one of the best decisions I ever made. It allowed me to pursue other things. You‘ll also probably not believe this, but I work for an ad agency in their creative department in Pittsburgh, now.” She laughs a little. “I’m actually putting my ‘mad art skills’ to use, as Michael used to say. So, it’s funny that we ran into each other tonight, seeing as I’m in town for the holidays to visit my parents.”

She goes on, telling him what she’s been doing for the past five years. She includes all of it: the heartache, the bad dates…everything. She’s not sure why she volunteers the information. Maybe she just wants him to know everything. Jim does the same.

It’s nearly one in the morning when Jim’s phone buzzes:

It’s his wife. If you would have told him five years ago that he would be summoned home by his wife while sitting in a diner across from Pam Beesley, he would have thought you were mistaken. Pam was supposed to be his wife. But now he knows that’s just how it works on television.

*********************

They walk out to the parking lot together, keeping a respectable distance between them. There are no false promises to keep in touch; no phone numbers exchanged. They have separate lives, now. Other people to care for. The closure they both wanted -- no, needed -- is striking in its finality. It’s almost unreal. But their time passed them by.

“Jim?”

He turns to look at her as they approach her car. In those piercing blue eyes she sees a fleeting glimpse of hope that looks strangely familiar. But whether or not it’s out of habit, she’s not sure. But she feels the need to tell him, if only so that they can both believe in something.

“You were never wrong.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” There it is, that old feeling kicks in again. The one that set everything in motion.  Maybe he did know her as well as he thought he did.

“About me loving you. I always did. I was expecting a radical change in how I felt after you told me the same, but it was always love. That’s why I wasn’t able to decipher my feelings.”

“Wow. I’m not sure what to say.”

“I don’t think there’s anything else that needs to be said.”

Pam reaches up and envelops him in a hug. Nothing more. Nothing less. She gets in her car and looks up at him one final time.

“I just needed you to know.”

“Once.”