Pam could see Michael and Jim approaching the office. Michael was still on crutches with the packaging still ridiculously wrapped around his foot. It looked like he didn’t take advantage of the fact that he just left the ER with Dwight. That would have made too much sense. Michael stopped in front of the Dunder Mifflin door and waited for Jim to open it for him. Jim let it slip once as Michael was going through the door. Jim caught it before it knocked Michael over, but not before it hit him. Pam tried to suppress the chuckle Jim’s action caused. She knew Michael must have been really annoying for Jim to be openly hostile. Michael headed straight for his office while Jim stopped at reception.


“How’s Dwight?”


“He’ll be Dwight again by tomorrow unfortunately.”


“That is kind of unfortunate. I liked concussed Dwight. He was almost normal”


“Almost, Pam, almost,”


Jim took a jelly bean, tossed it into his mouth, and then preceded four strides to his desk. He had to try to get some work done today. Who was he kidding? It was already 4:50PM. There weren’t any messages for him on his phone or in his e-mail. So really he came back to shut down his computer. Oh, and get rid of Michael.


The entire office stopped working when Michael bellowed, “Oh crap!” from his office. It was followed by Michael trying to make it out of his office. His crutch caught on the door jam. To keep himself from falling he used his cooked foot for balance. This caused him to drop his crutches, reach for his injured foot, again lose his balance, but this time he did fall and ended up squirming on the ground like a turtle who couldn’t flip to his feet.


Jim picked up the crutches. He was first there after all, so he got first choice on what to do to ‘help.’ He held them up in front of Michael. He held them steady expecting Michael to climb his way back into a standing position. No one else moved to help.


“A little help, PUH-lease,” Michael exclaimed, obviously with drastic undertones.


“I am helping Michael,” Jim said. “Use your crutches to pull yourself up. I won’t let go.”


“I can’t do that! I’m injured! I need some real help. RYAN!”


Not being able to play dead anymore, Ryan rolled his eyes, but slowly moved towards Michael. Ryan held out a hand and Michael’s two arms clasped on. “There.” Ryan went to go back to his desk. It had to be 5 o’clock. Sweet freedom.


“What was the ‘oh crap!’ for?” Jim asked Michael before slowly stepping away.


“I just remembered Dwight was supposed to stay late for me tonight. I have improv tonight and Packer is supposed to pick up the monster truck tickets I promised him.”


“You promised Packer monster truck tickets?”


“Promised. Lost a bet. What does it matter?”


“What was the bet?”


“If Pam’s rack was real”


Jim’s eyebrows shot up. Pam’s jaw dropped. The rest of the office was filled with gasps of disbelief, disgust, and a little snickering by way of Kevin.


“And you lost?” Jim asked. He was sure Pam was going to kill him for continuing this conversation but he couldn’t help himself.


“Obviously, or I wouldn’t have to give him the tickets,” most of the time Michael thought Jim was smart but at times like these he just wanted to stick out his tongue and go DUH! “So anyways, I need someone to stay late.”


Everyone started to look anywhere but Michael. Angela sat down so not to be seen. Half the office picked up the phone and started to talk to the dial tone. But Pam was brave, brave enough for two.


“Jim and I will do it,” she offered.


“What?!?” Jim looked at her in utter disbelief. She did not just offer to do Michael a favor.


“It is really only a one person job,” Michael explained. “Besides I still…”


“You shouldn’t walk to your car alone at night,” Pam interrupted. “Not safe, even in Scranton.”


“Fine,” Michael scoffed. “You and Jim can be in charge of the tickets. Now I was saying, I still need a ride home.”


Pam winked at Jim. She was brilliant. Michael in a small car for 20 minutes was way worse than 10 seconds of Packer. He bowed to the queen. She curtsied back.


“Alright Ryan, let’s go,” Michael started towards the door without waiting for an agreement from Ryan. “Pam, the tickets are on my desk. Everyone else, see you tomorrow.”


Ryan stomped after Michael. He was going to break the speed of light to off load Michael as quickly as he could. One by one everyone else collected their coats, said goodnight, and filed out the door.


“So what are we going to do while we wait for Packer?” Jim asked.


“Hate ball?” Pam suggested. “Oh wait, I should call down to Roy!”


“Hate ball made you think of Roy?” he asked as she dialed the warehouse extension.


“Shh!” she insisted. “Hey Darryl, can I talk to Roy…hey yourself…you can go home without me tonight…yeah, I have to work late. Michael…yeah I know right?...Oh um, Jim said he would drive me home…yep he is stuck here too…I’ll tell you about it when I get home…uh huh…bye”


“I’m giving you are ride home? I thought this was supposed to get me out of bringing someone else home,” he pretended to pout.


“Are you comparing my company to Michael’s?”


“Wouldn’t dare. It’s just…I…am almost out of gas and we don’t get paid until Friday…”


“Just shut up,” she laughed. “So what are we going to do? You didn’t seem too excited about hate ball.”


The minutes ticked by slowly. They played hate ball. They threw paperclips into Phyllis’ coffee mug. It was more challenging that Dwight’s. They moved Dwight’s desk onto the roof. And now they were bored. It was 8:30 PM and still Packer hadn’t shown up.


“Know any,” Jim began to dig in his bag, “drinking games?” He produced the bottle of alcohol he confiscated from Meredith’s car.


“You always keep alcohol in there?” she asked in disbelief.


“Found it in Meredith’s car on the way to the hospital.”


“You will eventually have to drive me home.”


“Ok, maybe just A drink then. Unless of course you are more like Angela then I thought.” He smiled knowing this was going to be too easy. She wouldn’t back down from a challenge like that.


“I’ll get the grape soda,” she marched passed him on the way to the break room.


“I like the way you think Beesly,” he smiled and followed a step behind.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


7:30 AM is when the first call came in to Dunder Mifflin the next morning. They were sitting side by side on the floor under Pam’s desk passed out. Jim’s arm was around Pam’s waist pulling her tighter to him. Pam returned the gesture wrapping her arm around his waist. Her head rested on his shoulder, his on her head. His legs were straight ahead of him, hers were curled slightly behind her. One could best describe them as being entangled. The second ring of the phone woke them both up.


Both groaned. The noise of the phone seemed 100 times louder with a hangover.


“Make it stop,” she mumbled.


“Can’t move,” he mumbled back.


At that moment Jim realized he wasn’t alone. At that moment Pam realized she wasn’t with Roy. They both flew upright, both hitting their heads on the bottom of her desk. Clutching their heads, they both continued to scramble to standing positions.


“What the hell happened?” Pam asked herself as much as she asked him.


“I don’t remember,” Jim tried but his head pounded too much to think.


Six empty grape soda cans rested haphazardly on the reception desk. The once full bottle of liquor, now empty, was also there, upright and taunting them.

Pam was frantically trying to find her shoes. It was hard to concentrate on their locality when she was also trying to recall anything from last night. She remembered lugging Dwight’s desk to the roof. The prank took effort. They had to photograph his desk with Jim’s camera phone so they could replace all of his bobble heads correctly. They took out the desk drawers and carried them one by one to their new location. After that there was the desk itself, which was particularly difficult because the elevator only went so far. There was still one set of stairs to maneuver past before reaching the roof. She remembered sprawling herself on top of Dwight’s desk, something she never thought she would do, because she could barely breathe when they finally made it. Making Dwight’s life less orderly she could remember clearly, but after that things started to get fuzzy. Ugh! And where were her shoes?


The answer came from somewhere near by. “Pam, I found one of your shoes,” Jim called the conference room. “Have you seen my tie?”


“No,” she called back. “And only one shoe? You sure the other wasn’t placed neatly next to it?”


“Pretty sure,” he left the conference room. He glanced at the clock on his office phone on the way past his desk. 7:48 AM. “We need to get out of here. The timely people are going to be coming soon.”


“The last thing we need is for Dwight and Angela to find us. But I only have one shoe. And we haven’t found your tie.”


“It’s too late. We have to go! Now! Fifteen minutes ago!” he exclaimed.


“A bit melodramatic, don’t you think?” she countered. “We’ll just have to find everything later.”


They grabbed their coats, after debating Pam decided on going barefoot instead of hopping in her one shoe, and then they flew out the door. They took the stairs down two at a time, not wanting to unexpectedly run into anyone on the elevator. They paused at the bottom of the stairs, slowly opening the door to the parking lot. No one in sight. They made a mad dash to his car.


“Your house first,” Pam instructed.


“Don’t you just want me to drop you off?”


“NO!” she burst out. “I mean… No, thanks,” she recovered. “I don’t want to run into Roy.”


“Don’t you think he is worried about you?”


“I doubt he’s even noticed that I didn’t come home. But if we pull up to the house, like this, together, and he hasn’t left yet…” she trailed off.


“Got it,” he agreed without further question. “My place it is.”


Jim haphazardly parked his car near his parking space. He was half in the lines, half on the curb. Pam pushed open the passenger side door but it was a little difficult considering Jim parked adjacent to a large bush. She squeezed her way out having given up on getting the door to open anymore.


“I think we can slow down now,” she suggested as she pulled a twig from her jacket.


He nodded. She had a point. No one was going to bother them at his place. He unlocked the front door, opened it for her, and closed it behind them both. Mark. Mark with a smirk. Mark was standing in the hallway presumably on his way to work. So much for no one bothering them here.


“Hey guys,” Mark’s smirk grew into a full fledged grin. “Where have you two been?” he asked suggestively.


“Work,” Jim answered with such finality that both Pam and Mark flinched.


“Details later then,” Mark whispered to Jim as he moved past them and out the door.


Pam heard. She blushed, why she didn’t know. Wait … that’s a lie. She did know. For a brief second she allowed herself to imagine what Mark was suggesting. And then she forced those thoughts from her mind. Suddenly, a thought popped into her head that scared her. She didn’t know if something actually happened last night. She had been so preoccupied with getting out of the office and making sure no one saw them that the reality of the situation hadn’t set in. Something could have happened. Her heart sunk, she was always sure she would remember something like that. Not that she expected something like that to ever happen with Jim. Roy, she was engaged to Roy. He had finally just set the date. But it was all right to think of your friends in a mildly perverted way. Everyone does it. It’s a common occurrence, she was sure of it.


“Earth to Pam,” Jim said as he waved his hand in front of her face.


“What? Huh?” she shook her head trying to free it from the clouds. “You’re dressed.”


“I even brushed my teeth and combed my hair,” he teased. “I’ve been in my room for the past 15 minutes. What were you thinking about?”


Blush again, very deep, and very red. “Umm,” she stammered. “I was trying to remember something from last night.”


“Did you?”


“No,” she hung her head in disappointment.


“Do you think it is safe to go to your house now?” he asked as he pulled on his coat.


“What time is it?”


“8:25.”


“Yeah, we should be fine.”


Both Jim and Pam sat in complete silence on the way to Pam’s house. Both were struggling to remember even the tiniest detail of last night. While Pam was trying to remember the actual particulars of last night, Jim let his mind wander to the possibilities. He remembered how they had woken up. Her head on his chest. The smell of her shampoo. Their clutching each other’s waists. He let his imagination take it from there.


“I’ll wait in the car,” he announced as he pulled to a stop in front of her house.


“You don’t want to come inside?” she questioned as she pulled off her seatbelt. The truck was gone from its parking space. Roy wasn’t home. She was a little disappointed. He’d never been inside her house. He’d picked her up and dropped her off on numerous occasions but he had yet to break the threshold.


“Nah, in case Roy comes home it is easier to hide out here.” He had never been able to go inside the house she shared with Roy. He was pretty sure it would kill him to walk inside. He imagined their house was like their relationship, controlled by Roy. It hurt to even think she lived in a house which displayed no reflection of her true self.


“You aren’t going to honk the horn when I take too long are you?” she asked before she left him alone with his thoughts.


“Um, no,” he furrowed his brow. “Who would…?” he didn’t finish his sentence. “Take your time. I’ll be right here until you get back.”


His assurances didn’t stop her from running from the car to the front door. He assumed she was running around like a maniac inside. Running? Pam running. He closed his eyes hoping it would allow him to think harder. A running Pam…


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“Tag you’re it!” she exclaimed. And ran away.


“Wait, no fair,” he pouted as he pulled himself from the floor. He wasn’t expecting tag. They had been sitting on the floor playing … playing…something else and she hit him on the head and bolted. It didn’t stop him from running after her.


“You’ll never catch me Halpert,” she shouted back at him as she weaved in and out of the desks.


“You are wrong Beesly, so wrong.” He reached out his arm and snaked it around her. They both slowed to a stop and then…


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Pam opened the car to the door. He lost the memory. She settled back into the car and little short of breath from the marathon she had been running inside. Jim chose not to comment on her current state. He wished she understood that he had the ability to be patient unlike some other man. In fact, he was excellent at waiting for her.


“We played tag last night,” he blurted out.


“We played tag?” she asked. That was not on her list of things to do with Jim at night. Not that she had an actual list. It was more of a collection of dreams and daydreams. And … wait! Roy, Roy, ROY! What was wrong with her this morning?


“Yep. Tag. We were playing something else…”


“Tidily winks with checkers from Stanley’s desk” she interrupted. She seemed as confused as he did when she said it. “And I hit you on the head, sorry about that by the way, and ran.”


“And I followed.”


“I tried throwing stuff at you to slow you down, again sorry, and then you caught me and…” she didn’t remember anymore.


“Yeah and…” other than the tidily winks part the rest he knew already. He was hoping she could finish the story. “Maybe we should go to work,” he suggested after realizing neither was going to remember right now. He pulled his car back on to the road and pointed it in the direction of Dunder Mifflin.


“We should be discreet when we look for our missing items today,” Pam said as they pulled into the parking lot.


“We should probably also nonchalantly try to clean up the things you threw at me. What ever they were and where ever they ended up,” he agreed.


“So we are looking for other people’s random junk, my shoe, and your tie. Anything else?”


“Nope. That sounds about right.”


Jim and Pam exited the car. Today was definitely not going to be easy. And oh, it would be so much easier if they weren’t lying to each other. Jim discovered while he was changing, he was wearing his pants but he had not been wearing his boxers. Pam in an effort to hide all her clothes from last night, found her pantyhose balled up in the one shoe she did have, but in the franticness of the morning didn’t notice her panties were not where they should be. In the chaos which was neither had noticed the extra airiness until it came time to change their clothes. No today was not going to be pleasant especially with the possibility of one of their coworkers finding their undergarments. Tick, tick, tick. The bomb was about to explode.

The office was aflutter with activity when Pam and Jim got to their respective desks. As Pam answered her first phone call of the day she continued to search her desk for any of her missing items. “Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam,” she said automatically as looked under her desk, in her trash can, in her file drawers, under her keyboard, under stacks of paper. At some point she realized she had no idea what the person on the other end of the phone was saying. “I’m sorry who is this? ... Right, Jan. I’ll put you right through to Michael.” She didn’t even warn Michael the call was coming. She’d deal with the wrath of Michael later. One problem at a time.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~



“You’re late and where is my desk?” Dwight accused Jim the minute he sat down. Dwight was seated Indian style on the floor where his desk should be. His keyboard was on his lap, his phone to his left. Jim and Pam had left the electronics inside last night in case of rain. It was funny how he remembered that when he couldn’t remember when or where he had taken off his underwear last night. Ugh, Dwight was still talking, “I will have to write up you for both malfeasances.”



“You don’t have the authority to write anyone up for anything,” Jim countered. He didn’t have time for this. He had boxers to find. He had his dignity and life to protect.



“I most certainly …”



“Do not,” Jim interrupted. “Sell paper Dwight. That is why you are here. Leave everyone else the hell alone.” Ok, that might have been a bit harsh. “Your desk is on the roof,” he added as an afterthought.



“Michael! Toby!” Dwight bellowed as he flew from his make shift floor desk.



“Great,” Jim muttered. He didn’t even attempt a sales call, work wasn’t going to happen today. He felt useless. There is no way he would even be able to sell get out of jail free cards to life sentence inmates at this moment. He rifled through all of his desk drawers. He looked under his desk but he found nothing. Nothing!



“This is a place of business,” he heard Angela huff and then saw her marching in his direction. Oh crap. He analyzed her face to see how bad this was going to be, but her face plastered the same look of sternness he saw daily. “I believe this is yours,” she dangled his tie from one finger.



“Thank you,” he sheepishly pulled the tie away from her. At least it was just his tie.



“There’s more,” Angela grumbled. He watched her return to the copier.



Damn it! Just when he thought he had escaped complete embarrassment there was of course more. MORE! Oh no. This was not good, not good at all. Of all the people to find his … um … personal effects Angela with her holy water was his last choice, well maybe Kevin and his “niiccceeee” was his last choice, or Dwight, or Michael. Michael was definitely his last choice. As he counted down to almost every person in the office, he made mental note to find new coworkers.



Angela came back with her arms full of paper. The stack of paper reached her eyes making it hard for her to navigate her way back to his desk. It was really too bad she didn’t get lost on the way. Upon arrival she spread her arms allowing the stack to fall to his desk with a thud. The papers on the top came loose and floated to the floor, his desk, and on his lap. “You owe the company $500.00. I want it by the end of the day,” she demanded.



“What? No employee discount?” he deadpanned.



“No,” and she walked away.



Jim picked up one of the papers and studied it. He pulled another from the middle of the pile. They were all the same, his tie. That’s it, just about 1,000 copies of his tie. And had they used the normal, cheap, white paper? No, of course not. They used the heavy duty, swan embossed, fancy cream paper. The kind that was going to cost him fifty cents a sheet. Now if only he could remember why they felt the need to make so many copies of his Kmart special tie.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~



Pam was still rooting in and around her desk when she heard Angela’s exclamation of disapproval. She watched as Angela approached Jim and her eyes were glued on the interaction between the two. She was relieved when she saw Angela hand over Jim’s tie. She tensed upon hearing that there was more to come, but was again relieved when Angela dropped the stack of paper on Jim’s desk. The stack had to have outweighed her, was she doubling as the Princess of Power outside of the office? What was so important that they felt the need to copy it that many times? She craned her neck to see what was on the paper. Jim’s tie. That’s it? They were completely plastered last night and still they managed to be entirely uninteresting.



Pam struggled to remember. It was Jim’s tie. It was copies of Jim’s tie on thick fancy paper. When Jim held up a sheet of paper to inspect it, she noticed a silhouette of a swan. They made hundreds of copies of Jim’s tie on swan paper. There was something nagging her about that paper. Wait…that wasn’t just any fancy swan paper. It was the paper the company marketed to party planners for special events … like weddings.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~



Pam remembered they had needed a break after tag. She had purchased her first bottle of water from the Dunder Mifflin that each machine, she nearly finished it in one long chug, and was now resting at one of the brake cables. Jim walked back to the vending machine after purchasing some chips; he had professed he had the munchies.



“Are you excited?” he asked as he joined her at the table. Instead of water he was a joint another mug full of their grape soda concoction.



“Excited for what?” she asked. She watched him stumble to the table and fallen to the chair. They had had their one drink before tag. Tiddlywinks had never been less innocent; it had been tiddlywinks the drinking version. She had stopped drinking when her mother was empty, obviously he hadn’t.



“For Roy setting the date of the wedding,” he took another prolonged gulp.



“Oh that,” one drink from an hour ago was not going to be enough for this conversation. She rose from her chair, found another coffee mug, and poured herself a new drink. “Yeah, sure. I guess. I'm happy.” Wow! What a lie. She couldn't even convince herself that that was true. The realization hit her hard; she wasn't happy. She downed her entire mug in one quick drink.



“So I guess you get to do all the girly wedding planning things now, huh? Flowers, seating arrangements, invitations.”



“Yes!” She perked up a little bit. She was happy he chose to ignore her last comment even though she knew he saw through her lie. “I mean, I've had 10 years of planning so most of the decisions have been made. But I could never decide on the invitations.”



“Well Pam, I'm not sure if you've noticed but we are the land of paper. And we do have computers,” he finished off the last of his current drink.



“I don't know,” she stalled. It could not be a good idea to make her and Roy's wedding invitations with Jim. She had been a prime example of self-control before this conversation, but now she can drink fast enough. She poured herself another mug of… well mainly vodka with a splash of grape soda.



“Come on,” he persisted. Was it just her or was he actually slurring his words? “Why not?”



Why not? That was a good question. If it wasn't a big deal for him, as her friend, it wouldn't be a big deal for her. “Fine. But we are taking this with us,” she grabbed her mug and a bottle of vodka marched from the room.



Pam reached for the power button on her computer twice before she was successful in making it whiz to life. The alcohol was hitting her fast and hard. “I don't want to make the invitations,” she sulked.



“Um okay,” he looked confused for a second. Then she watched him deflect the awkwardness with humor by stealing her mug draining its contents. He finished with an eyebrow wiggle and a smile.



“Well be that way,” she smirked. She snatched the bottle and took a straight swig of vodka. Were they always this competitive? “Invitations are boring,” she explained. “Let's do this save the date-tations.”



“Okay Michael.” This must have been the funniest statement ever because it caused them to burst into fits of giggles.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~



Why on earth had she agreed to make any type of invitation to her wedding to Roy with Jim? Was she really that unhappy with her decisions, her life? And what was it with the impure thoughts involving Jim she'd been having more and more frequently? She shouldn't be having those thoughts at all. She was going to marry Jim. Wait … what? No, Roy, she was going to marry Roy. She must still be drunk, that had to be it. God, her head hurt. She flopped her head on the keyboard; she was oblivious to the letter f flying across to monitor repeatedly.



Jim walked over to Pam's desk carrying a one of the pieces of tie paper. He reached over her desk and positioned it as part of her face so she didn't have to move to examine it. “Know what this is?” he implored.



“Yes,” she grumbled. “I'll tell you for the low low price of three Advil.”



“Come with me to the kitchen.”



Without picking up her head she shifted to look at him. Using only her eyes, she conveyed to him that he was crazy to think she was going to budge.



“Come on. I need to tell you something anyways.”



Pamela reluctantly stood up but nearly fell right back into her chair. Jim quickly noticed her unsteadiness and moved around her desk to help keep her on her feet. She hated him at that moment. He did not look on over at all. How is that possible when she was falling to pieces? “Why don't you look like me?” she asked as they moved slowly towards the kitchen.



“Not everyone can be as pretty as you,” he teased.



She gave him the evil eye. “I hate you.”



Jim smiled. These moments, when it was just the two of them, he lived for. “Don't worry, I feel like hell to,” he assured her. “I was just wise enough to have taken Advil and drank 2 cups of coffee already,” he said as he set the bottle of Advil, some water, and a cup of coffee in front of her.



She watched as he made her coffee to her liking, half coffee, half milk, with a dash of sugar. She rarely drank coffee; tea was usually at her drink of choice. And she drank them in completely different ways. So how did he know? All this thinking was making her head hurt more. “So what are you going to tell me?” she asked just before throwing the pills in her mouth and chasing them with the water. She reached for the coffee, letting it rest in her hands, letting it warm her body and soul.

Jim nervously circled the table trying to figure out how to phrase what he had to say without freaking her out. “Um…” he moved to sit next to her at the table. This was most definitely a conversation he needed to be sitting to have. He twisted his hands in his lap. Every second he didn’t say anything he watched her become more and more concerned. “I wasn’t wearing my boxers this morning and I don’t know where they are,” he blurted. His mother always professed it was better just to rip off the band aid.



“Great,” she muttered grumpily. She knew that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. It was devoid of shock, horror, and regret. But it really wasn’t that surprising given the missing status of her panties. “Yeah, I was going commando too.”



Okay, that explained her lack of alarm but the implications of the missing undergarments were more than he could handle. So the obvious follow up question, “Do you think we…?” he couldn’t actually verbalize it, nor could he look at her. The repercussions of an affirmative answer were too much to take.



“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. However, the thought that she might not be able to remember any of it made her hope nothing happened. She thought when something between them happened … wait. Did she want something to happen between them? Now? In the future? And hold on, what about Roy? Shouldn’t her concern be she may have just ruined things with Roy? Yes, it should. Crap. She was in desperate need of a subject change, “I know what this is though,” she pulled the tie paper across the table so she could focus on it and not on Jim. “We were making wedding invitations. Well not exactly wedding invitations but...”



“Save the date-tations,” he interrupted. That was just enough of a catalyst to spark the memory.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~



Jim vaguely remembered being with Pam at her desk helping her to prepare to be married off to another man. He couldn’t remember why he thought this was a good idea. However, he clearly remembered this was the point in the night he realized he was drunk. They had brought the alcohol with them so he had no intention of altering his inebriated state. He took in her smile, giggle (yes giggled) along with her, he was actually having fun. It could have been awkward given that he was helping to keep Roy in her life, but they were just in such a collective good mood that it didn’t seem to matter. He never in a million years would have guessed this activity would be fun.



He recalled her drinking straight from the vodka bottle without flinching or gagging. He was impressed. Did she have an affinity for vodka he didn’t know about? “Let’s do the save the date-tations,” he heard her suggest before he could let his mind wander any farther.



“Ok, Michael,” they were giggling again. He couldn’t seem to control his laughter. “What kind of impression do you want to give with these save the date-tations?” Trying to be serious was becoming increasingly difficult. Everything seemed to be so hilarious. Pam marrying Roy - frickin side-splitting!



She took a moment appearing to be giving it serious thought. “I want it to be classic and elegant,” she explained. “Oh, but not boring. There has to be some way to make them a little more … fun or exciting.”



How in the world does one make a piece of paper fun and exciting? Working at Dunder Mifflin had taught him paper was anything but those two attributes. Did she want it to burst into song or do a little dance? “Okay, so classic but fun and elegant but also exciting,” he repeated for his own benefit. He was about to succumb to more laughter over a singing, dancing piece of paper and he didn’t want to explain that to her.



“Exactly!” She exclaimed but her mood quickly subdued. “How do you always know me so well?” It was a serious question. She wanted an answer. It was like she couldn’t believe anyone would want to know her so well, damn Roy.



Danger! Danger! “I … um …” He could not answer that question. He was too drunk to think of a believable lie. He had to bite his tongue to keep the truth from slipping out. What was he supposed to say? I love you and have made it my life to learn every innate detail about you? That would go over so well.



“I’m drunk.” She stated proudly.



Oh thank God! She seemed to have forgotten her previous question. “Perfect. I think a drunken stupor is what these save the date-tations need to be fabulous.” Visions of the piece of paper were creeping back into his mind. This time the paper was doing the YMCA. He was giggling again; he couldn’t hold it in this time.



Pam didn’t seem to notice his laughter. “Give me your tie.” She held out her hand waiting demanding compliance.



She wanted him to strip now? This was going to make it fun and exciting? Well yes striping would be fun and exciting if they were both participating. Ugh! He lacked control of his own thoughts in his drunken state. It was going to get him trouble. Maybe he should stop drinking. Nah! “Am I going to get it back?” he asked as he loosened it and slid it over his head. She nodded and he handed it over.



“We’re going to copy it.” He watched as she bounced off to the copier.



“Why?”



“Because I am tying the knot and your tie has a knot. It is the perfect background really.” She smiled at her own drunken brilliance.



She was beautiful. Crap. He needed to figure out how to stop these thoughts. “What kind of paper?” he asked as he followed in her wake to the copier. He needed to keep his brain in check. It wasn’t a possibility for his brain to multi task at this intoxicated moment so he focused on the task at hand.



“OH! The fancy kind, with the swans!” she jumped around excitedly.



“Swans?” Yes why swans, that was what was important. Pam bouncing, not important, oh hell.



“Yeah, they are the most elegant bird.” Pam explained as she positioned his tie just right on the bed of the copier. He watched her as she cutely concentrated on getting it just right. He knew he was going to kiss her tonight. He knew it right then and he also knew there wasn’t going to be anything that could stop it. The only thing he could do was postpone it so he busied himself by loading the swan paper in the paper receptacle.



“Right. So we have elegant. But what about fun…and…the other two adjectives?”



“You’re fun silly!”



For reasons unbeknownst to him she leapt into his arms. He wasn’t expecting her to launch into him, leaving her feet. He was caught off guard, drunk, and couldn’t adjust. The result was them lying on the floor, tangled up in each other.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~



That was it. That was the end of the memory. He couldn’t remember if he had kissed her. He couldn’t remember if that was the moment he lost his boxers. It was frustrating to have just a piece of a memory. And if that had been THE moment, she had initiated it. Wow, his mind was reeling at the possibility. But she was staring at him from across the table, waiting for an explanation. “You hit me, you threw stuff at me, and you tackled me Beesly. You are a violent drunk.” Jim teased.



“We were really drunk.” She wasn’t in the mood for jokes. There were too many unremembered details about that night with the potential of destroying her life as she knew it. She needed to know what he remembered so she could piece it with what she remembered. She needed to remember the whole night but she was quickly realizing that may not be a possibility.



“Yes, we were,” his smile faded. He could tell by the look in her eyes this conversion was about to turn painful. She wanted the play by play of what he remembered. And after that it was going to deteriorate into the what if game.



“What kind of drunk are you?” Pam decided to change tactics. If remembering wasn’t in the cards she was going to use logic to determine the likelihood of their sleeping together.



“Huh?” Not what he expected. At least he didn’t have to tell her that he remembered his body had plans on kissing her last night.



“I mean … normally when you are drunk how do you act?”



“Because you think it is my normal state of being to be drunk?”



“No, not at all! This isn’t going well… When you drink, whether it be a regular or sporadic occurrence, are you a happy drunk, a wild drunk, an angry drunk?”



“Oh! I guess I am a happy drunk…with perhaps playful tendencies.”



“Sure, I can see that. I would also describe myself as a happy drunk with maybe more of a flirtatious side.”



“Pam, where are you going with this?”



“Hypothetically, what would you think would happen when a flirty happy drunk and a playful happy drunk spent the night alone together?”



“Alone together?” He knew exactly what she meant. He knew it when she began discussing this topic, but he was trying to buy some time while he pondered an acceptable answer. Acceptable meaning a believable lie.



“Jim…” She was growing frustrated fast. He knew something and was stalling to avoid giving her a truthful answer.



Jim never got to answer the question posed. Roy came into the break room interrupting their conversation. Pam did her best to perk herself up and not look as miserable and frustrated as she felt. Jim attempted to not look guilty. “Hey Roy,” was all he could muster before he fled the break room breaking all human speed records in the process. Pam resented Jim for leaving her to fend for herself, but at the same time was glad that he did. It was easier to deal with them one at a time.

Pam shifted nervously in her chair. She felt like the time in elementary school when she was sent to the principle’s office and she was reprimanded for telling Joey Carson to shut up. “Ladies do not say such vulgarities Pamela.” Only Roy wasn’t staring her down like Mrs. Humphrey had. She didn’t know how to start. Should she tell him about last night? What could she actually tell Roy about last night? Most of it she didn’t remember. Was it worth getting him upset over something that might not have happened even if all the mounting evidence was proving otherwise? “Hey Roy,” she said in the cheeriest voice she could muster, hoping it didn’t sound too fake.



“Hey Babe,” he slid into the seat which Jim had just vacated. His smile faded as he studied the mug in front of her. “You don’t drink coffee. You drink tea, not coffee.”



“Sometimes I drink coffee.” It annoyed her that he didn’t know she drank coffee even rarely. Jim knew. Jim knew on those rare occasions how she drank it. But if Roy to chose to focus on her drink preference this morning, she would be okay with that.



He didn’t speak right away. He still seemed confused about the coffee. He seemed to shake it off and return to his pleasant demeanor. “How’d you get to work this morning?”



“Huh?” She didn’t leave work. Surely he realized she didn’t come home last night. He must have realized the empty spot next to him in bed all night. He did at least notice when she was there or not, didn’t he?



“You must have gotten home after I did and left before I woke up. I know Halpert dropped you off, but who picked you up that early?” He was sitting so calmly. It was just as if they were having a conversation about toast. He wasn’t showing any extreme emotion of any kind. He was all dimples and charm.



“Roy I didn’t come …” she was at the fork in the road. Should she tell the partially remembered truth or …? “I didn’t want to wake you,” she lied to him. She was ashamed how easy it was. “Angela picked me up.”



“I didn’t even hear you come in.”



Were they back to that? “I tried to be quiet,” she couldn’t stop lying. They just kept falling out of her mouth. Was she still drunk? Because that could be the only explanation to why she thought lying to the man she was going to marry was the way to go.



“And since I didn’t hear you leave, I am surprised I heard the alarm,” he was still so calm, so eerily devoid of negative emotion. It was starting to freak her out. “How was your night?”



“Nothing special. We just waited around for Packer,” while drinking ourselves into a stupor, followed by blacking out, and then waking up in each other’s arms. Yep, nothing special. Shit.



“What time did he finally show up?”



Oh hell. What time did Roy drag himself home last night? “What?” she tried to postpone giving an answer.



“What time did he get here, Pam?” Okay, so he wasn’t calm anymore. He was clearly becoming agitated.



“Oh I don’t remember,” this wasn’t a lie, she didn’t remember. She didn’t know if Packer had shown up at all to get those stupid tickets. Still, she couldn’t tell him the truth so she chose to say away from specifics. “Late. It was really late.”



“I got home after the bars closed and then watched TV before I went to bed. So it must have been really late. And you left so early. Why did you even bother coming home?” He had regained his composure; he back to his unruffled demeanor. The dimples that had disappeared for a moment were now back.



“I needed clean clothes … I needed to brush my teeth,” she responded unhappy with herself. She should be strong enough to tell him the truth. But she wasn’t, she was a coward.



“Yeah. I wouldn’t want people to think you did something slutty like spend the night with Halpert when we are engaged.”



Oh hell. Obviously he knew the entire time she hadn’t come home. She watched as his face fell into despair. She hadn’t come home last night and now she was lying about it. She didn’t give him any reason not to fear for the worst.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~



Jim had needed something to distract him after leaving Pam with Roy. Without an activity to keep him busy he would have stood in front of the window, watching their interaction unfold. It killed him not to know what was happening, what she was saying. He noticed Dwight carrying pieces of his desk back into the office as he returned to his own desk.



“I’ll help,” Jim offered.



“I shouldn’t be doing this at all,” Dwight huffed. “You and Pam should be returning my desk to its original resting place.”



“Pam’s a little busy right now. And I can’t do it alone. So I’ll help, take it or leave it,” he wasn’t trying to be snippy. He was actually trying to be nice and helpful but he realized that wasn’t how it was coming across.



“I have already informed Michael and Toby of your wrongdoings, so don’t expect this to erase your previous misconduct.”



“I wouldn’t dare to expect such a thing. Come on, I’ll show you how Pam and I maneuvered the desk around the corner on the stairs.”



Dwight followed Jim to the roof, but stopped abruptly before passing through the final door. “Are you going to lock me on the roof?”



“Um…no.” Maybe on a normal day he would give serious consideration to that suggestion, but not today. Today his major concern was Pam and his relationship with her. Pulling pranks on Dwight was not even on today’s radar.



“Are you going to trap me under my desk?”



“Again, no.” That suggestion was absurd. He never physically harmed Dwight nor did he never intend to. But he really couldn’t fault Dwight for being skeptical.



“Why then?” Dwight remained rooted to his position in front of the door.



“Why what?” Jim sighed.



“Why are you helping me? Never once have you offered to eat my calculator out of the Jell-O.”



“You eat your things out of the Jell-O?” That was just gross. Jim’s Jell-O molds had come out of a long trial an error process. In the end he found putting extra gelatin in the mixture gave the mold the sturdiness it needed to hold up the heavy objects placed inside. As a result, the Jell-O had a rubber texture, it wasn’t appetizing.



“There are starving children in Africa, Jim.” It looked as though Dwight just wanted to say Duh Jim, instead of explaining. “Now, before I step onto the roof with you, what are your motives in offering to assist me?”



“I … Pam and I … well we spent the night in the office.” Did he really just tell Dwight he and Pam spent the night together? How was that a good idea? It was quite possibly because he needed to tell someone about it and Dwight just happened to be there. Hopefully he wouldn’t regret his decision later.



“Are you telling me you made it to the Pam Pong finals?” Dwight was giddy with excitement. He couldn’t wait to tell Angela; she might even show some flicker of emotion.



“What? No, I am telling you I need a distraction while she talks to Roy.”



“I find that reason satisfactory. Let’s proceed.”



Jim was thankful Dwight didn’t push the issue any further, even though by the looks he was receiving he could tell Dwight wouldn’t mind hearing more. Mercifully, though, they worked in silence. Drawer by drawer, bobble head by bobble head, Dwight and Jim managed to lug everything back into place. They had one, maybe two, trips left when Jim learned being distracted was no longer a possibility. Jim heard a loud boom come from the direction of the break room. It was so loud the entire office heard.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~



Pam hung her head in defeat. It had been really stupid of her to lie, especially since she didn’t know if she had actually done anything wrong. It seemed he had been in her life for ever and she didn’t want to hurt him. “Roy?” she needed him to say something, anything. She needed him to yell at her, to fight with her.



“You didn’t come home last night,” Roy wouldn’t look at her. She could tell he was trying to keep his anger in check.



“No,” she replied sadly.



“You lied,” he still wasn’t looking at her. His vision was cast outside the break room, watching the office buzz in normalcy.



“Yes,” one word answers were all she could handle, she was about to cry. She didn’t want to cry because she knew it wouldn’t be fair to Roy. He’d be weakened by her tears and offer forgiveness. She didn’t deserve his forgiveness.



“Why?”



“I don’t know.”



Roy couldn’t avoid looking at her anymore. “Did something happen?” If she wasn’t going to verbally supply the answers he was going to have to get them from her body language.



Wasn’t that the million dollar question? Did something happen? “I don’t know,” God, she wished she knew.



“You don’t know!?” he didn’t believe her. She knew he didn’t believe her. And really what reason did he have to believe anything she was saying was the truth?



“We were drunk,” and flirty, and happy. She should feel guilty about last night, but really the guilt she was harboring was for hurting him in general and lying this morning.



“Drunk?!” He lost the control he had been clinging too. He slammed his fists into the table causing Pam to flinch. “You went out with him? Like a date?”



“No!! We raided Meredith’s stash. We were here all night,” she quickly reassured him. She didn’t need for him to run into the office and strangle Jim.



“All night with Halpert,” his anger quickly turned to sadness as he began to think he lost her. He felt a little bit schizophrenic as his emotions vacillated between anger and sadness.



“Yes,” she had spent all night with Jim. And even as she sat there with Roy what she wished for most was to remember every detail of her night with Jim.



Roy gave up. He wasn’t getting any answers, or at least any of the answers he wanted. He rose from his chair and silently moved to leave. He turned to her before he left, “Pam?”



“Yeah?” she swiveled in her chair so she could look him in the eye. She was scared when she did because the anger was back in full force.



“If I see you with Halpert today, I’ll kill him,” and with that he flung open the door and stormed from the room.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~



Every head in the room was currently fixed on the break room; every mind was wondering what was going on.



“Someone should go in there and check on Pam,” Phyllis suggested. She was staring directly at Jim, she said someone but everyone knew she meant him.



Jim quickly shook his head, “I can’t.”



“I’ll do it,” Dwight suggested. Jim nodded in agreement. The two had entered into some sort of silent bond on the roof, and as odd as it sounded Jim trusted Dwight not to make the situation worse. However, Michael tripped Dwight with his crutch as he tried to make his way to the break room. Angela swooped in and rushed Dwight into the conference room, mumbling something about first aid and yesterday’s concussion.



“No way! Why have the assistant do what the boss can do better? I’ll go,” Michael offered but the resounding “NO!” from everyone in the room stopped him in his tracks. “Okay, I get it you guys don’t think a cripple can handle such an emotional situation.”



“You cooked your foot, Michael. You didn’t permanently cripple yourself,” Stanley explained pointedly. “But no we don’t think you can handle such an emotion situation.”



“I’ll go, cause I totally deal with emotional situations all the time,” Kelly rambled. “Ryan breaks up with me after every time we have sex. And then the next time he finds me in his apartment naked he loves me again. Right Ryan?”



Ryan looked horrified, refusing to say anything.



“Would someone please just go …” Jim didn’t get a chance to finish his request. At that moment Roy hurled open the door and marched past them all. No one even pretended to work; they all just watched him as he hurried from the office. Their heads snapped back into the direction of the break room when Roy disappeared.



Pam emerged from the break room seconds later. She knew they had all been watching. She knew they all had questions, comments, and concerns they were dying to express. She chose to ignore them, all of them. For self preservation she chose to return to her desk and business as usual, “Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.”