She couldn't be sure exactly when he ceased to exist, but the first day she suspected something was the day after she canceled her wedding.

She was tired and had a huge headache from crying all night, so at first she didn't notice the Jim's drawing of her was missing. She had hung it on her desk months ago, and after he had transferred without even saying goodbye, she put it in her top drawer so she could still see it if she really wanted to, but it wasn't hanging in front of her face, reminding her of what she had lost.

And she also didn't notice her teapot was gone, because she just assumed she had put it in the cabinet in the kitchen after washing it. Yes, with all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, her mind was elsewhere, so those little details didn't really register quite yet.

It was only when she sent out the email that things started to get weird.

At first she just addressed the email to those people that were supposed to be guests at the wedding. Then she decided to just include the whole office, even those who weren't attending, to stave off any gossip. And then at the last second she went to add Jim's name to the list. He didn't show up in the contact list, but she figured it was some kind of glitch with the email system since he had switched branches, so she added his address manually.

What happened over the course of the day was that she was flooded with people asking questions, or trying to comfort her, or just plain being nosy. So by lunch time she couldn't take it anymore, and told Michael she wasn't feeling well and needed a "mental health" day. He nodded and wished her well, and she went home. Then she had to deal with Roy coming by to get his stuff so he could go stay at his brother's place, and by the time she finally got a minute to herself, she sat down at the computer to check her work email.

Upon opening her inbox, she was startled.

From: Mailer-daemon@dundermifflin.com
To: Pamela.Beesly@dundermifflin.com
Date: June 5, 2006
Subject: addressee unknown

This is an automatically generated Delivery Status Notification

Delivery to the following recipient failed permanently:

James.Halpert@dundermifflin.com

Technical details of permanent failure:
PERM_FAILURE: SMTP Error addressee unknown

Why wouldn't Jim's email still work in Stamford? Pam was puzzled, but again, figured it was some kind of technical problem. The IT department wasn't exactly known for their competence.

It was unsettling to her, however, and that night she couldn't sleep - not because she had just canceled her wedding that was supposed to happen that weekend, nor because she had ended a nearly ten year relationship, but because Jim didn't get her email, and she didn't know why.

In the morning she got up and went to work as usual, and that's when all hell broke loose.

She cautiously tapped on Michael's office door. He was very hurt by Jim's sudden transfer and had declared Jim to be dead to him. So when she asked him if he had heard from Jim, and he replied with a disinterested "Jim who?" she wasn't really surprised. She went back to her desk and sat down. Kevin came by to check for faxes and she said conversationally, "So, have you heard from Jim since he moved?" Kevin just stared at her blankly and went back to his desk.

That was weird, she thought. The anxiety in her gut was growing. She finally flipped open the company directory and dialed the receptionist at Stamford.

"Hi Marcia, it's Pam from Scranton. Hey, could you do me a favor and transfer me to Jim Halpert?"

"Who?" asked Marcia.

"Jim Halpert. He was supposed to start there last week." She tapped a pen nervously on her desk.

"Um, sorry, Pam, no one by that name works here."

"Are you sure?" She was starting to panic.

"Positive. We had a new person start a couple of weeks ago, but it was a lady and her name was Sophie. No Jim."

Pam mumbled something and hung up. What was going on here? She decided to approach Michael again.

"Michael, what happened to Jim? I thought he transferred to Stamford but they have never heard of him there, and his email doesn't work..."

"Jim...?" Michael was still distracted by something on his computer.

"Jim Halpert, tall guy, sat right out there. Michael, I know you're mad at him but you just can't pretend he doesn't exist."

He must have sensed the annoyance in her voice because he finally looked up.

"Pam, I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't know a Jim Halpert."

"Michael, that's not funny." She felt tears in her eyes and her hands were starting to quiver. Suddenly Dwight appeared next to her in the doorway.

"Dwight, do you know what happened to Jim?" she demanded.

"Jim who?" Dwight said, expressionless.

"Jim Halpert, who has sat next to you for like five years."

He scrunched up his eyebrows and looked at her like she was crazy.

"Okay guys, this isn't funny. These past couple of days have been really hard and I think you're being jerks..."

Michael and Dwight both stared at her as if she had two heads.

She yelled out to the rest of the office, "WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHERE JIM IS?"

Everyone just looked at her. After a painful silence, Phyllis spoke. "Who is Jim?"

That's when Toby emerged from the kitchen, looking down and carrying a piece of paper.

"Toby!" Pam gasped, approaching him and grabbing his arm. "Please, I need to know where Jim went."

Toby, like everyone else, obviously had no idea what she was talking about.

And that is when Pam's whole world went crazy.

"Mom?"

"Pam, are you okay?"  Her mother's voice sounded concerned.  Pam was sitting on her kitchen floor, clutching the phone in one hand and a tissue in the other.

"No, Mom, I think... I think I'm going nuts."

"Honey, you're going through a tough time right now so it's to be expected that you'd be stressed out - "

"No, Mom, I mean literally.  I think I am literally going crazy."

There was silence for a moment, and then her mother said, "Pam... ?"

"Just tell me, Mom."  She swallowed hard.  "Do you know the name Jim Halpert?"

Her mom didn't hesitate.  "No... should I?"

Pam felt the bile rising in her throat.  "I gotta go."  She threw the phone down and raced to the bathroom, where she threw up in the sink.

She splashed water on her face and stared at herself in the mirror.  "This can't be happening," she said to her reflection.

Suddenly she had a thought.  She turned and ran toward her bedroom closet, where she frantically searched for the shoebox where she had kept all the little momentos that Jim had given her through the years.  Fifteen minutes later, with all of her stuff strewn over her bedroom, the box was nowhere to be found.

Her phone was ringing.  Probably her mom, she thought, but she hurried to check the number on the caller ID anyway.  When she verified that it was indeed her mother, she shut the ringer off and tossed the phone aside.

She had to figure out what was going on.  It just didn't make sense.  How could everyone just have forgotten him, as if he never existed?  Or maybe... no, the thought terrified her.  He had to have existed.  Just a few weeks ago he had told her he loved her and then he was kissing her.  She could still feel his hair in her hands as she kissed him back.

She sat back down on the floor and sobbed. 

She had no idea how long she was there, only that at some point she must have been overcome with exhaustion because she was being shaken awake.

"Pammy!  Pammy, wake up!"  She opened her eyes reluctantly.  It was Roy.

"What are you doing here?"  She sat up and quickly got to her feet. 

"Your mom called my cell.  Said you were having some kind of breakdown and I should check on you.  She's on her way..."  He trailed off and touched a hand to her cheek.  "Pammy, are you sure this is what you want?"

"What?"  She wasn't sure what he was asking.

"I mean, calling off the wedding.  Are you having second thoughts about... your second thoughts?"  He let out a half-chuckle at his inadvertent joke.

She pulled away from him.  "No!  No, that's not...  Roy, I'm fine.  Can you just go?  Honestly, I'm fine."

"Who is Jim?"  The question shook her, and she stumbled backward and grasped onto a chair.

"What?" 

"Your mom mentioned you asking about someone named Jim."  His eyes fell to the floor.  "Just tell... Pam, I need to know.  Have you been cheating on me?"

Pam sat down in the chair and felt like she was going to hyperventilate.  "Why... would you think that?"

Now Roy was starting to get angry.  "I mean, come on Pam!  Our wedding was less than a week away and all of a sudden you get cold feet?  And then you freak out at work today - "

"What?  How did you know about that?"

He rolled his eyes and didn't answer. 

"Roy, no, I haven't been cheating on you," she insisted, but she couldn't meet his gaze.

"Oh my God.  You're lying.  Who is he?"  He was yelling now.

"No, I swear, I swear!"  She started crying again.  "It wasn't like that... Roy, there's something wrong with me."

But he wasn't listening.  Instead he swept his hand over the counter and knocked a glass to the floor, shattering it.

"ROY!"  The sobs were coming fast now, but she knew she had to get him to leave.  So she took a breath and yelled, "I think I'm schizophrenic!"

Roy shook his head.  "What are you talking about?"

"I think... I don't know... it's just that something... oh I can't even explain."  She crumpled down into a pile, and wept into her hands.

"Pam?"  Roy wasn't exactly the most empathetic of souls, so he wasn't sure what to make of her statement. 

Just then there was a knock at the door.  Roy stared at her for a moment before going to answer it.  Her mom came flying into the kitchen a few seconds later.

"Pam!  Oh my God, what happened?"  She gathered Pam in her arms and stroked her hair.  It was several minutes before Pam was able to speak.

"Mom... I think you need to take me to the hospital."

The light was shining through the flimsy blind covering the hospital window.  It was morning, and for a moment Pam didn't know where she was.  She sighed heavily as it all came back to her.  Her mom had taken her in as she requested, and she had spent the night being evaluated by several different doctors who couldn't figure out what was wrong with her.

And here it was, morning, and despite the medication she now had in her system, she still remembered the feel of Jim's arms around her waist as he pulled her in for a kiss.  And the way he made her laugh, sometimes at the most inopportune times.  All the pranks he pulled on Dwight, his exasperation at Michael's antics... it was all still there, as a part of her as any other memory.  How could he have only been real to her and no one else?

The doctor had told her that her symptoms were atypical of schizophrenia, and that usually schizophrenics aren't able to self-diagnose themselves as such.  So they were still trying to figure out what could be causing her "hallucinations" and there was talk of sending her to a psychiatric hospital for a better evaluation.

The door to her room opened and her mom and dad walked in, all smiles.  They both gave her a kiss on the forehead before sitting down.

"How are you feeling today, sweetie?" her mom asked gently.

"I'm fine," Pam answered flatly.

"You still... having... episodes?" her dad inquired.

Again she sighed, and replied, "They weren't exactly what you would call 'episodes.'"

Her mother and father shared a glance, and then her mom said hesitantly, "Roy wants to come see you today."

"No," she replied.

"He's just really concerned - "

"No, I don't want to see him.  He wasn't that 'concerned' when he accused me of cheating on me and then smashed up the kitchen."

"Pam, were you... I mean, was there someone else?  I'm sorry honey, it's just that none of this makes and sense and you - "

"Stop.  Okay, just stop.  No one is going to believe me no matter what I say."

"I want to believe you, but you're talking about a person that doesn't even exist."

"He was real, Mom.  He was my friend.  I told you.  I talked about him all the time."  She didn't dare mention the casino night, even though she had a vivid recollection of telling her mom everything.  It was just all so fucked up and she had no idea how to fix any of it.  If her own mother wouldn't even believe her... well, it was just hopeless.

Suddenly the door opened again, and there was Roy, holding a bouquet of flowers, looking contrite.  Her parents excused themselves and he came in and sat down.

"Look, Pammy, I'm sorry... I just thought there was something going on and I...  well, now that I know it's all in your head..."

"What?  Now that you know it's all my head that makes it better somehow?"  She felt the blood rushing to her temples.

"No, that's not what I meant." 

"Get out," she said sharply.

"Pammy..."  His eyes had tears in them as he pleaded with her.

"No.  Get out.  This isn't about you, Roy.  It never was."

"What do you mean?  Of course it's about me.  You practically left me at the altar."

She looked away and hissed, "Just.  Go."

He stood up and backed away toward the door.  "I'll be back tomorrow," he said as he left the room.

Her parents came back immediately, but at that point she didn't want to see them either.  She asked if they could just give her a little time to herself and maybe come back in an hour or so.  Reluctantly, they agreed, but not more than five minutes later there was another knock on her door.

She groaned and said, "Come in."

It was another doctor, who introduced himself as a neurologist.  He explained they wanted to do some tests on her brain to rule out possibility of an aneurysm.  She solemnly agreed, but she had the strangest desire to just get up and walk out of the hospital.  Somehow, despite all the evidence to the contrary, she knew that Jim wasn't just some side affect of a brain aneurysm, or the onset of schizophrenia, or anything else that was "just in her head."  She knew it down to the very essence of her soul.  But she had no idea how to get him back.

Until, that is, her savior walked through the door of her hospital room.  She was staring off into space, still doped up from medication, so she was barely aware someone had entered.  When she turned to see who it was, it was pretty much the last person - besides Jim himself - that she expected to see.

"Dwight?"

"Hello, Pam," Dwight said stiffly as he approached the chair next to her bed and sat down.

"What... what are you doing here?"  She noticed he was holding a green folder in his hand.

"I heard about your condition."

"My condition," she muttered.

"Let me get right to the point.  Yesterday after you had your little 'breakdown' in the office, I had that name - Jim Halpert - stuck in my head, and I couldn't figure out why.  So of course before I went and checked all the county health records, I searched through Dunder-Mifflin's own records.  Specifically, Michael's.  And I found this."  He handed her a piece of paper from the folder.

"What is it?" she asked, her heart racing.

"A resume."  She looked at him quizzically as she examined the paper, and Dwight continued, "In 2002, Michael got this resume off of Monster.com and called the person to interview, but he canceled and never actually came in.  His name was James M. Halpert."

"What?" She could barely breathe. "I don't understand..."

Dwight shrugged. "I'm just reporting the facts. That someone by the name of Jim Halpert did at one point in time have an interview scheduled with Michael. So you didn't just make him up, even though you would have never have met him. Obviously the only logical conclusion is that either you're crazy, or you have been sucked into an alternate universe." He shrugged again. "Could go either way, really."

Pam stared at him for a moment, her mouth open. Dwight seriously seemed to consider both explanations as equally plausible. She would have laughed if it wasn't her own sanity that was at stake. Instead she desperately tried to process the information he had given her.

"2002 was the year Jim started at Dunder-Mifflin," she said, more to herself than to Dwight.

"No, weren't you listening?" Dwight said, exasperated. "He didn't start. He never even showed up to interview." He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"What I meant," began Pam, slowly, "was that in my 'alternate universe,' Jim started working there in 2002."

"Oh, okay." Dwight seemed to accept that explanation, then added, "I have more."

"More what?"

"More information." He pulled another piece of paper out of the folder. "That same Jim Halpert currently works for a high tech consulting firm just outside of Philadelphia."

"Are you serious?" She glanced at the paper. It was a list of employees for a company called CTX. Jim Halpert was described as a senior sales associate.

"And one more thing," Dwight added, handing her something else.

Pam gasped. It was a picture of Jim, and except for his hairstyle it was just as she knew him, but it was...

"His mugshot," Dwight said. "He was arrested for DUI in 2003. Charges later dropped. I was unable to determine why." Dwight stood up. "I hope this information has been helpful to you."

"Oh... yes. Thanks Dwight," she replied, thinking that this must be the strangest conversation she had ever had. But suddenly, she knew what needed to be done.

"Dwight!"

He turned around as he was leaving.

"I need one more favor. I need you to help me get home."

"What?" He looked surprised.

"I'm checking myself out, and I need a ride home."

~

An hour later, Pam was back in her apartment, frantically shoving clothes into an overnight bag and trying to get out the door before her parents, or worse, Roy, stopped her. She hurried to get into the truck, when it suddenly struck her that taking Roy's truck may be a bad idea. He had left it for her to use until she got her own car, while he bummed rides off his brother Kenny. She wasn't sure why, but something told her she needed to find another way to get to Philly.

So she started walking. Seven blocks away there was a car rental place. She asked for the cheapest car they had available, and soon she was on the road, heading down the seemingly endless Pennsylvania Turnpike extension toward Philadelphia.

In the car she had some time to think about what had been going on the past few days, and the more she thought about it the more Dwight's crazy alternate universe theory seemed to make the most sense. It was crazy though, and she knew there had to be a better and more plausible explanation. But for all her efforts, she was unable to come up with one.

Her thoughts turned back to Jim himself. She missed him so badly it physically hurt. And she thought this must be some kind of punishment, for rejecting him even though she knew in her gut that she was in love with him too.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." His voice is breathy, mesmerizing.

"Me too. ...I think we're just drunk." She isn't sure why she says it, probably just to give herself an excuse like the last time she kissed him.

"No, I'm not drunk. Are you drunk?" His mood has changed dramatically. There is a playfulness in his eyes that wasn't there a few minutes before.

"No..." He smiles and leans in to kiss her again. "Jim - " He stops, leans back.

"Are you really gonna marry him?" She nods slowly, not taking her eyes from his.

"Okay," he says, and his hands slip out of hers as he turns and walks away.

That was the last time she had seen him. When she had come in on Monday he was gone, transferred to Stamford. She had had no idea that he would be "gone" in a totally different way a few weeks later.

And now she was going to find him, to see if he remembered her, if he had any fucking idea what was going on here. If he didn't... well, she didn't want to think about that just yet.

When she reached the suburban town of King of Prussia, the home of CTX, she decided to check into a hotel and clean herself up before she decided on her next move. She used a debit card that was attached to an account that Roy didn't have access to, and her cell phone had been left behind. She wanted to make it difficult for her parents or Roy to figure out where she had gone. This was something she needed to do alone.

At 4:45, she drove to the address on the employee roster provided by Dwight, and she parked the car and waited.

At 5:00, employees started emerging from the building. She scanned their faces, looking for his familiar features, but minutes passed without any luck.

At 5:30, James Halpert walked out of the building, and Pam's heart nearly thumped out of her chest.

She was frozen to her seat.  It struck her that even though she had been waiting for this moment for the better part of an hour, now that she actually saw him, she had no idea what she was going to say.  He was standing with two other guys about his age, and they were all laughing about something.  Slowly she unlocked the door to the car and got out.  Each step took a great amount of effort, but soon she was close enough to overhear the end of his conversation.

 His back was to her.  He said to his companions, "Okay, I'll catch up with you guys at Chili's."

Chili's?  Her memory momentarily floated back to another time and place, but suddenly Jim turned around and was walking toward her.  He met her gaze as he walked past, smiling politely, but there was not the slightest hint of recognition in his eyes.  He continued on to his car without giving her a second look.

Pam felt deflated.  He didn't know her.  What the hell was she supposed to do now?  She fought the urge to burst into tears.  Instead, she headed back to her car.  Chili's it is, she thought.

She followed his car (which was a SAAB, not a Corolla, she couldn't help but notice) out of the CTX parking lot and a few minutes later into the parking lot of Chili's.  She parked far away and waited until he walked into the restaurant before she got out of the car. 

It was set up just like any Chili's in any other nondescript town.  She noticed Jim was at the bar talking to his co-workers, and it was apparently an after-work happy hour.  He was already drinking a beer and was animatedly telling a story.  Everyone around him was laughing. 

She kept her distance, sitting down at one of the high tables in the bar area.  A waitress asked her if she wanted a drink, and she asked for a Coke just for something to order.

Ten minutes later the work group had dispersed somewhat, and she noticed Jim talking to a tall blonde woman, who was sipping a fruity drink.  She was giggling at whatever he was saying and she reached out and touched his arm.  Pam felt herself getting queasy at the sight of another woman close-talking with Jim.  So she gathered her nerve, stood up and walked across the bar.

"Jim," she said loudly, and he looked at her.  The blonde he was talking to glanced at Pam, then back at Jim, and said, "Thanks for the drink," before walking off.  Jim stood there with a puzzled expression on his face, which then seemed to turn to annoyance.  Several seconds passed before he said, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

Pam, realizing the bar slut had left on her account, suddenly felt embarrassed.  Thinking on her feet was not her forte, but she managed to stumble out, "Um... no, I guess... uh, you just look like someone I know.  I'm sorry."  She started to back away when he said with a grin, "And this guy also happens to be named Jim?"

She tried to force a smile.  "Is it your name too?  What a coincidence.  Uh... common name, I guess."

Jim didn't respond at first, but when she turned to leave he said, "Hey, wait!"

She turned back to face him again, and he asked, "Could I... buy you a drink?"

"Sure," she answered, hesitantly.

"What'll it be?" he asked, gesturing to the bartender.

"A margarita," she replied, smiling.

"A margarita it is," Jim said.  "So I saw you at work today.  Are you new?"

She gulped.  She hadn't been expecting that.  "Oh no, I don't work there.  I just had, um, business there."

"So where are you from... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

She blinked once and said, "Pam.  Pam Beesly.  I'm from Scranton, actually."  She searched his face for some kind of familiarity, and he didn't disappoint.

"No way!  I'm from Scranton too.  Well, Dunmore actually," he was enthusiastic as he reached for their drinks that the bartender had just placed on the bar.  "I moved here about four years ago.  Still have family there though."

Of course you do, Pam thought, wondering why she didn't think of that before.

"So what brings you down this way, Pam Beesly?"

"Oh, nothing too interesting, I just work for... hey, you know what would be great?  An Awesome Blossom.  I'm sorry, I just haven't eaten all day and I am starving."  She hoped her attempt to change the conversation wasn't too obvious.

"Oh totally!  Let's do it," he motioned over toward the waitress and put an order in.

Three more margaritas and an Awesome Blossom later, Pam was officially tipsy.  She had to keep reminding herself that this wasn't her Jim, that she had to be careful what she said, but their conversation was so easy and fun that a few times she almost forgot that this whole weird thing was happening.

There was one major difference, however, and that was that this Jim seemed to be trying a little too hard to make an impression on her.  Almost like he was used to picking up girls in bars and had some sort of script ready.  Definitely not something the Jim she knew would do.

But after a few more drinks, Pam was totally drunk and she almost didn't care.  She was giggling and laughing at all his jokes, leaning in and whispering in his ear.  She even saw him blush a few times.  Before long, he offered to take her back to her hotel.  Which she was vaguely aware could mean either he was being a gentleman and realized she was too drunk to drive, or that he wanted to fuck her.  Either option was fine with her.  She was just living in the moment.

As she led him up to the fourth floor of the hotel, she giggled and made nonsensical comments about Dwight and Michael.  Jim just smiled, obviously amused but just as obviously having no idea who she was talking about.  When they reached her room, she kept putting the key in backwards, and Jim laughed, offering to take it from her.  That was when she grabbed him by the shirt and hoisted herself up on her tippy toes to press her lips to his.  He responded immediately, his hand snaking up her back and into her hair.  He fumbled with the key, and they spilled into the room, hands and tongues working frantically.

Suddenly Jim pulled back.  "Pam..."  She ignored him, reaching for his mouth again.  He held his hands up and pried her away from him.  "Pam, seriously.  As much as I... want to.  Oh God."  Her hand had found its way to his groin and he moaned.

"No wait.  Stop.  I... you're drunk... and something tells me you're not the kind of girl to..."

"How do you know what kind of girl I am?"  It was said in a whisper but without any snark, almost earnestly, as if she was willing him to remember.

"Point taken," he replied gruffly, not picking up on her tone, "but I don't want to take advantage of you."

She pulled back and stared at him, and then shook her head as she felt the tears stinging her eyes.  Yes, of course her Jim wouldn't take advantage of a drunk girl he just met like an hour ago.  She felt a strange warmth in her chest as the familiarity of him sank back in.  She sat down on the bed and grabbed a pillow.

"What... what's wrong?"  He seemed genuinely concerned at seeing her upset.

"No, no, you're right," she answered.  "I just.  I miss you."

He laughed then, and said, "Uh, we just met."

She started sobbing then, and thought for sure that was going to make him run for the hills.  Instead, he sat next to her.  "Hey, don't cry.  Look, I think you're great, and that's why I don't - "

"No, it's not that.  It's just that... have you ever lost someone close to you?"  Her eyes were getting heavy and she curled up in a ball, still hugging the pillow.

"Nope, can't say that I have.  Have... have you?"

Now the alcohol had really pushed her over the edge of exhaustion, and she murmured, "What about Tommy?" before drifting off.  And perhaps if she had kept her eyes open for just a few more seconds, she would have seen the look of shock and recognition on Jim's face.

Pam awoke with a start, sitting upright in the bed.  When she did so, she groaned with pain and grabbed her head, which was throbbing.  She was trying to figure out where she was and what had happened when -

"Feeling better?"  His voice startled her, and she jumped.  He was sitting in the corner on the uncomfortable desk chair, leaning forward with his hands folded.

"Jim," she said, trying to piece together what he was doing there.

"Here's a question for you," he said, standing up and presenting her with a bottle of water.  "Who the hell are you?"

"Jim..." she began, but she could see he was agitated.

"You know me.  I don't know how you know me, but you do.  I need to know who you are."

She took a deep breath.  "It doesn't matter.  You wouldn't believe me if I told you."  She took a drink of water, and noticed he was now offering her something in his hand.

"It's just ibuprofen," he said.  "You probably need it."

"Thanks," she replied, gulping it down.

He sat on the edge of the bed, not looking at her.  "You mentioned Tommy.  Why?  What does that mean to you?"

Pam swallowed, and tried to get him to meet her gaze.  When he wouldn't, she sighed.  "You were nine.  He was your best friend.  You were going to Little League.  Tommy's dad was driving.  You took something of his - some kind of handheld game - and he took his seatbelt off to try to grab it back from you.  The car was hit from the side.  You were fine.  Tommy was... killed."

Jim had his head in his hands, still not looking up.

"You had trouble dealing with it," Pam continued.  "You wouldn't talk for like a month and your mom and dad took you to a psychologist."

She heard a hitch in his breath as he spoke.  "I never told anyone about that.  We lived in Boston then.  We moved to Pennsylvania six months later."

She didn't say anything and it was a few moments before he spoke again.  This time, he turned to face her.

"How did you know about it?"

Again, Pam felt tears welling in her eyes.  "You told me.  In the breakroom one day while we were eating lunch.  I don't remember how it came up but - "

He interrupted her.  "Wait, you said you didn't work at CTX..."

"I don't.  It happened at Dunder-Mifflin."

"Dunder what?"  He was clearly confused.

She shook her head, and said, "You know what?  It doesn't matter.  You'll never believe me."

"Try me."  He was staring at her intently now, so she continued.

"It's like... I am in this alternate universe, and I don't know how or why or maybe I'm just crazy, but...  Okay, you were my best friend.  I am the receptionist and you are - were - a salesman.  We hung out at work a lot, and we were pretty close."  She faltered, not knowing if she should get into more detail than that.

"How close?  I mean, were we together?"

"No.  Well, not really.  I was engaged to someone else, and you were... not."  She looked up to see if she could read his expression, but it hadn't changed.

"And that's it?"  He was obviously skeptical.

"No, that's not it.  Ugh, I don't even know how to explain.  Okay, a few weeks ago you told me that you were... in love with me.  And we kissed.  And then I told you that I was still going to marry my fiance, and you left.  Transferred to another branch."  Her words were coming fast and she was rambling, but she went on.  "And you left without saying goodbye.  I was devastated, and then a few days ago I broke up with my fiance, and that's when I started noticing that you... didn't... exist anymore."

She stopped, took a breath, and looked at him.

"You don't believe me."

She still couldn't tell what he was thinking.  He took a long time to speak.

"No, I don't believe you.  Are you kidding me?  That is the craziest thing I have ever heard."

She nodded mutely as she started to cry once more.  Something in his expression melted a bit, and he cautiously put his hand on her shoulder.

"But obviously you believe it.  Is there anyone I can call for you?  I think... I think you need some help."

Silently, she agreed.  He was right.  It had to be all in her head.  Of course, that didn't explain how she knew this person whom technically she had just met - and how she knew intimate details about his life - but he had to be right.  Right? 

And with that, she gave up.

Jim Halpert wasn't naturally a risk taker.  He preferred the comfort of familiarity, and it took a lot of effort for him to actually take a chance on something.  He had done it in the past, and  sometimes it worked out for him - like moving to Philadelphia - and sometimes it didn't - like that time he risked driving home after he had had too much to drink and ended up spending a night in jail.

It had been almost two weeks since the incident with Pam Beesly, and Jim couldn't get that girl out of his head.  There was something about her, something strangely and perhaps ironically familiar.  He thought about her every day, even finding himself drifting off into a daydream in the middle of a meeting on more than one occasion.

Maybe it was guilt.  Just as he wasn't naturally a risk taker, he also wasn't naturally "that guy" that picks up girls in bars.  But after a few years of practice, he was starting to turn into that guy and he kind of hated himself for it.  He never really connected with any woman on a deeper level, and his love life consisted of a string of short-term relationships and one night stands.  If he was being honest with himself, when he took her back to that hotel he was hoping to get laid. 

But she was different.  Once he got her back to her room, he knew he couldn't go through with it.  Not that he didn't find her attractive; it was actually just the opposite.  He knew she was too good for a guy like him.  He just couldn't figure out how he knew it.

And those thoughts plagued him for the past couple of weeks.  She was crazy, she had to be.  And given how much she knew about his own life, maybe she was even dangerous.  Logically, he knew that, but in his gut he felt like he had somehow betrayed her when he called her mom to come get her that night.   Her mom had said Pam may be schizophrenic, and she would probably be hospitalized until it was determined exactly what was wrong with her.  For some reason this made Jim profoundly sad, even though any rational person would know it was the right thing to do.  It was so stupid.  He didn't even know this girl. 

So here it was a Tuesday, and he was at work preparing to go out on a sales call, still thinking of her and wondering if she was okay, wherever she was.  He was absentmindedly getting his paperwork together when his buddy Matt, who sat in the cube next to his, came over to his desk and handed him an envelope.

"Picked it up by accident," he said.

"Uh-huh..." Jim replied, still shoving papers into folders to take with him to his appointment.

"You sure you don't want to go to the game tonight?" Matt asked.

"What?  Oh, yeah... no, I have some things I need to do."

Matt laughed.  "I never thought I would live to see the day Jim Halpert turned down a free ticket to the Phillies.  What's up with you, man?"

Jim shot him a dirty look, and said, "Nothing.  I've just been kind of stressed lately."

Matt nodded, apparently willing to let the issue drop.  He pointed to the letter he had just given Jim.  "So who is Pam Beesly?"

Jim's head snapped up and he stared at Matt.  "What did you say?"

Again Matt pointed to the letter.  "Pam Beesly.  It's the name on the return address."

Jim looked down at the envelope, and sure enough, Matt was right.  He felt his heart beating extra fast and his hands were shaking, but he had to get rid of Matt before opening it, so as calmly as he could, he said, "Oh, just an old friend.  Thanks for giving it to me."

Matt gave him a look that said, "whatever, dude," and walked away. 

He looked at the letter again, and realized whatever it said, he couldn't read it here, so he grabbed his stuff and rushed out to his car.  Once he was inside it with the doors locked, he tore open the envelope.  Inside was a note on plain notebook paper, and a... lid from a yogurt container?  That's weird, he thought.

Dear Jim -

I know you don't know me and you think I'm a certified nutcase, so don't worry, this is the one and only time I will contact you.

I just want to say thanks.  I will never forget you.

Love, Pam

It was short and simple and not in any way sinister, but something happened in that moment which completely changed Jim Halpert's life.

"Now the bronze are really blue, and they're also the back side of the gold, so no flipping."

"So what's it like dating a cheerleader?"

"You use fabric softener?"

"I'm really sorry if you misinterpreted things."

It was then that he knew he had made a terrible mistake.

He wasn't sure what to expect when he arrived at the Philadelphia psychiatric hospital where Pam was being evaluated. He didn't even have any idea what he was going to say to get himself in there to see her. He just knew he had to try. He had managed to get the name of the hospital from Pam's mom by calling her - luckily her number was still on his cell phone from the hotel incident - and telling her that he wanted to send Pam some flowers. It was lame, but it worked, and a few hours later, here he was.

Gathering his composure, he walked up to the front desk and said that he was here to see Pam Beesly. When they asked for his name, without even thinking he said, "Dwight Schrute." The receptionist smiled, called Pam's room and told whoever answered that there was a Dwight Schrute here to see her, and then gave Jim the room number without any hassle whatsoever.

That was easy, he thought, as he made his way toward the elevator. He was so nervous he could barely breathe, with his heart beating so fast he was sure it may just explode before he got to her. It didn't though, and he arrived at her door and knocked softly.

"Come in," said a stranger's voice. He entered, and there was a nurse standing there filling out some kind of form. "She's probably not going to be much company," she said, disinterestedly. With that she gestured to Pam in the far bed, nearest the window.

She was sound asleep. Jim nodded and smiled politely at the nurse, and she left the room, leaving the door open behind her. Once he knew she was gone, he slowly walked over to Pam's bed and sat in the chair next to it.

For a long time he just sat there, not wanting to wake her. He was alarmed at how pale and thin she looked, as if she hadn't eaten in weeks. He felt tears stinging his eyelids at that thought. With some trepidation, he reached for her hand which was lying limply at her side. She stirred, but didn't open her eyes.

"Pam," he whispered, leaning in close to her. She still didn't open her eyes but she did make a soft "mmm" sound. He swallowed, and said softly, "I believe you. You're not crazy."

Her eyes fluttered open, with great effort. She showed mild surprise at seeing him there, but said nothing.

"Hey," he said.

"Jim," she replied. It was barely audible, and more of a statement than a question. "What... what are you doing here?"

"I need to help you," he said. "I don't know how this happened, Pam, but I remember. I remember everything. I remember working at Dunder-Mifflin, and meeting you, and being friends, and everything that happened on that casino night."

Pam shook her head. "No."

That was not what he had expected. "What?" he asked.

"No, you're not real. I made you up." She looked away, toward the window.

He was baffled. "Pam, your mom met me. I'm obviously real."

She blinked a few times. "She did?"

"Yes, remember? At the hotel?" The realization that Pam was on some heavy duty medication suddenly hit him.

"Well then I was stalking you, and I made the rest of it up. That's why I'm here. And you're not. You're all in my head."

"Pam, that doesn't make any sense," he said, although the irony was not lost on him that none of this made any sense.

"You should go," she said, turning her head away again.

"Pam, listen, they have you pretty drugged up and you don't - "

"I said go!" She was starting to cry now. "You are just trying to fuck with my head. You don't know me!"

"That's not true. Look, something weird is going on here and there's no way to explain it, but - "

"Is there some kind of problem here?" The voice in the doorway was familiar, and Jim felt himself tense up. Roy.

"No, Jim was just leaving," said Pam.

"Jim?" Jim could see the wheels turning in Roy's head.

Jim knew his time was running out. He turned back to Pam. "Pam, please... it's your medication. I'm telling you the truth," he pleaded with her.

"Hey, lay off, man," Roy came closer, looming over him.

Jim ignored him. "Pam! Please!" She looked at him, confused, but said nothing while Roy dragged him out of the room.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded when he got Jim out to the hallway.

"I'm... look, I can help her." He had no idea how to even begin to explain, and felt irrationally annoyed that Roy of all people happened to be at the hospital at that moment.

Roy stared at him for a few seconds, then surprised Jim when he said, "Were you fucking her?"

"What?" He couldn't comprehend what Roy was getting at.

"You heard me. Were you sleeping with her? Is that why she flipped out?" Roy's face was already red with anger.

"No! Look, man - " The next thing Jim knew he was on the ground, searing pain shooting through his jaw, his cheek split open. Roy's imposing form hovered over him, blurry through his stinging eyes, and he heard him hiss, "I am going to kill you."

It was dark. That was the first thing she noticed when her eyes flew open. The second thing she noticed was that she was still in the hospital. Her memories of what had happened earlier were still fuzzy... Jim was here, then Roy, then there was some kind of...

"Oh my God!" she said out loud, and she quickly jumped out of bed.

"Can I help you with something, dear?" The night shift nurse appeared in the doorway.

"Um, no... I... what time is it?"

"It's five thirty. Are you okay? It's not time for your meds yet."

"No, I'm... I'm fine," Pam answered, and added, "I just need to go to the bathroom."

When the bathroom door was closed behind her, she went over to the sink to splash water onto her face. The details of Jim's visit were hazy, but she remembered him saying he remembered. And then she remembered not believing him. Damn it, she thought, staring at the cool water running into the drain. What the hell was happening? Did Jim really remember, or was it some kind of cruel, twisted joke?

No, Jim wouldn't do that, she told herself, then realized that the very reason she knew that Jim wouldn't do that is that she knew Jim.

"I have to get out of here."

Suddenly there was a knock on the bathroom door. "You okay in there?"

"Yes, I'll be out in a minute," she replied, as she tried to formulate a plan.

When she emerged from the restroom a few minutes later, the nurse was watching her closely. Pam went back to her bed and climbed in. As casually as she could muster, she asked the nurse, "So do you know what happened last night?"

"You mean the fight between your boyfriends? I think everyone knows, dear." She smiled but there was pity in her smile.

"Fight? Are they okay?" She remembered Roy yelling in the hallway, but nothing beyond that.

"You don't remember?" She glanced down at Pam's chart. "Oh, I see they had to sedate you after it happened - "

"Are they okay?" Pam repeated, more forcefully.

The nurse sighed, obviously uncomfortable discussing it. "I don't know. They were both arrested."

"What?!?" She hadn't been able to imagine how this whole thing could get any worse, until now. She felt like her chest was going to collapse.

The nurse reached out a hand to calm her, and said, "Maybe I should call the doctor."

"No, I'm fine. But... I have to go."

"What are you talking about?"

"I voluntarily checked myself in, and I can voluntarily check myself out."

"I don't think that's a good - "

"No, you listen. This whole thing is just a big mistake, and I need to - "

"You need treatment," the nurse said sternly.

"Fine, then get me the doctor." She didn't want to argue with this person anymore. She just needed to expedite her release.

And two hours later, she managed to walk out of the hospital. The doctor had been very reluctant to let her go, but legally there was nothing he could do, so she was able to get out with surprisingly little hassle. But as she found herself walking through the streets of Philadelphia, she had no idea how to get where she needed to go. She was sitting down, dejected, in a coffee shop, when she spied a pay phone off in a corner.

After rummaging through her bags for some loose change, she called the only person who would know how to help her.

"Dwight Schrute."

"Dwight! It's Pam. Listen, I need your help again..."

"Pam?"

"Shhh! Is anyone else there?" She had no idea what time it was, and didn't want the whole office overhearing Dwight talking to her.

"No, I'm in early and no one else is here. Aren't you still in the hospital? In Philly?"

"No. I don't have time to explain, but I need you to find out where Jim Halpert lives."

"Oh, I have that information right here."

Of course you do, thought Pam, and for the first time that day she allowed herself to smile.

---

Jim turned the key and opened his apartment door, immediately heading for the couch, where he flopped himself down, on his back, and stared at the ceiling. His cheek still smarted from being busted open the night before, and he probably stunk after spending the night in a jail cell with a crack dealer named Coco-Puffs. The charges had been dropped this morning, but it had been a harrowing ordeal just the same.

After Roy had hit him he had gotten up and tried to defend himself, but hospitals generally don't look too kindly on brawls inside their facility, and security quickly arrived on the scene, followed by the actual police. At the point that he had been arrested, he had given up trying to explain anything to anyone, so he allowed himself to be hauled off to jail along with Roy. He didn't bother calling anyone, because he wasn't sure how he would even explain what had happened, and more importantly, why it had happened. But in the morning he was let go, after some hospital employees apparently corraberated his story.

So here he was, bruised, beaten down, and in bad need of a shower. And he still had this whole weird memory/alternate reality problem to deal with and no idea how to do it.

He wasn't lying there more than ten minutes when there was a knock at his door. He didn't want to get up to answer it but the knocker was persistent. Finally he stumbled over to the door, opening it just a hair so he could see who it was.

"Pam."

"Hey," Pam said, smiling slightly.

"What... what are you doing here? Come in." He stepped aside so she could come into the apartment.

"You don't look so hot," she said, looking him over.

"Neither do you," he replied. "I mean... um... Pam, what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry about last night," was all she managed to get out before the tears started falling. Without even thinking twice he reached for her and pulled her close as she buried her head in his shoulder and he stroked her hair.

They stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other, both crying softly. It may have been five minutes or an hour - who knows, really - before Jim pulled back and whispered, "Do you remember?"

"Yes," she answered, so quietly he could barely hear her.

He nodded, then took her hand and led her to the couch. He leaned back into the cushion and she put her head on his chest.

"Why is this happening?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said and sighed as he ran his fingers through her hair. A few more minutes of silence followed, and then Jim spoke again.

"I started having headaches. After that night. Really bad ones. I almost passed out a couple of times, I think."

She sat up and turned to look at him as he continued.

"Then there was this one night where I had just moved into my apartment in Stamford, and I remember just feeling really shitty about... everything. And I thought maybe it would have been better if I had never met you to begin with. I started getting a headache, and I remember going to the bathroom to get some Tylenol... and that was it. I woke up here, and I didn't remember anything. It was like it had never happened. I guess it didn't, in a way."

"How is that possible?" Pam asked, more to herself than to Jim.

He shrugged, as bewildered as she was.

"I want to go back," she whispered. "I just want everything to be what it was..."

"Everything?"

She noticed the look of alarm in his eyes and said, "I just wish this had never happened. I wish I hadn't hurt you. I wish I had told you that I loved you, too, and I wish you hadn't left." She was crying again.

For a long moment he stared at her, his eyes glistening. Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers - a brief, warm kiss. He leaned back as she stared back into his soul, and then she wrapped her hands around his head and pulled him back to her mouth. This time, the kiss was demanding, hot. Their tongues met violently and she pushed him back on the couch so she was on top of him, straddling him. His hands worked under her shirt, tracing up her back and then down her sides, feeling her breasts right there through her bra.

Her hands wandered, too, down to the front of his jeans. He was surprised when she wasted no time unbuttoning his pants, her hands working furiously as though their time may be cut short at any second.

"Pam," he managed between breaths. "Are you... sure?"

She murmured against his throat: "It's the only thing I am sure of right now." For a second she stopped what she was doing, and added, "Jim, I need you."

That was all he needed to hear. He flipped her over so he was on top, quickly pulling off her pants and then her shirt, then clumsily standing up and removing his own pants. He entered her without hesitation, and she made a soft moaning sound into his neck. He paused and asked, "Are you okay?" and she just grunted, "Don't stop." He obeyed, and pushed further into her. Within a few minutes she was trembling as the waves crashed over her, and he followed almost immediately. When it was over, they lay on the couch, entangled in each other's arms as their breathing slowly returned to normal, and then got slower as they both faded into sleep.

---

It was morning, again. The light from outside hit the blinds in the bedroom at just the right angle to get into her eyes, waking her from the deep sleep. She felt his arms loosely around her waist, and his breath on the back of her neck. She turned around to look at him, still sleeping peacefully, snoring ever so slightly. She smiled, and thought that she had never felt so content as she did in this very moment. She almost wished it could last forever.

She reached up and softly touched his cheek, and he stirred. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times, and then grinned.

"Hey," he said sleepily.

"Hey yourself," she answered, returning his smile.

He pulled her toward him and kissed her softly. "Please don't tell me we have to get up and go to work."

"No, of course - " Suddenly, she sat up in the bed and looked over her surroundings. This was...

"Wait! Where are we?" She jumped out of bed, then realized she was naked and grabbed a blanket to cover herself. She walked over to the small bookshelf near the window, on which rested, among other things, a 1998 Dunmore High School yearbook.

"Um, we're at my house... where did you think you were?" Jim was obviously confused at her sudden change in mood.

"Your house," she repeated. "In Scranton?"

"Uh, yeah." Jim also got out of bed, pulling on his boxer shorts. He suddenly looked angry. "I knew this was going to happen. Just please don't say you were drunk, because - "

"What are you talking about?"

"Last night?" he said, nodding over to something on his desk chair.

Her periwinkle blue dress, the one she had worn on the casino night.

It was strange, the fluttering memories that were flashing in her mind at that moment. It had all seemed so real. Could it have just been a really intense dream? It didn't seem possible. She tried to gather herself as she felt Jim's eyes on her.

"I think... maybe I just had a weird dream," she finally said, sitting back down on the bed.

Jim seemed to relax, and sat down next to her. "I just... I need to know if you're having regrets, because - "

"No!" she yelped, almost startling him. "I mean, no regrets. It was just a weird dream; that's all, and I was just disoriented for a minute."

He sighed. "So what are you going to do, about..." He couldn't complete his sentence as he bowed his head into his hands.

"Roy!" She had, almost ironically, forgotten about him, and then another memory of the night before suddenly became clear.

She had come home after the casino night to find Roy was not home yet, even though his excuse for leaving earlier had been that he was tired. She was in a sort of daze and her thoughts were unclear and muddled, but deep in her gut she knew that she had been dishonest with Jim. She sat down on the couch, still in her party dress, and just cried. Some time later Roy arrived home, and he had clearly been out drinking.

"Where were you?" she asked quietly.

"Oh Kenny called and we just went out for a few - "

She wasn't sure what came over her, because her normal instinct would have been to accept it and move on, but this time, she just knew. Something had to change.

"I can't marry you."

"Pam, what happened last night?" Jim's words broke her out of her reverie. "I mean, you told me no..." He swallowed, composing himself, then continued, "... and then you show up here at one in the morning and - "

"I broke up with him, if that's what you're asking," she said.

It had been ugly, and she wasn't entirely sure that Roy had accepted it, but she left the house, not even bothering to change her clothes, telling him she would get her stuff the next day. She then drove herself on auto-pilot to Jim's house, where his roommate answered the door - with great suspicion, since it was well past midnight. Mark told her Jim was in bed but he let her in anyway, and she nervously knocked on his bedroom door.

When he didn't answer, she slowly opened the door and was greeted with a sharp "What?" Obviously expecting his roommate, he sat up straight in bed when he saw her silhouette in the doorway.

"Pam?" He was clearly baffled to see her; it took him a few moments to even process her presence. Still, she closed the door behind her and walked on shaky feet to his bed.

She leaned over him and whispered, "I'm so sorry." A tear rolled out of her eye and landed on his hand, which he then placed gently on her face.

"I love you, too," she murmured as her lips met his.

She felt a warm sense of relief as the memories returned. No regrets, no guilt, no shame. Just pure peace.

Jim, however, seemed a bit nervous.

"Does he know?" he asked slowly.

"About us? No," she answered. "It's going to be messy for a while. I have a wedding to cancel, and I have to find somewhere to live - "

"Are you sure?" he questioned suddenly. "I mean, I know it's probably too late to be asking that, but are you sure this is what you want? You haven't exactly had a lot of time to think, and I really hope I didn't pressure you - "

"Jim, I had a lot more time than it seems," she answered with assurance. "There are a lot of reasons to not marry Roy." She could see the anxiety in his eyes as she went on. "Not the least of which is that I'm in love with another man."

He relaxed again, and drew her closer for a hug as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Take all the time you need," he said. "I'll be waiting."

She sighed, and whispered, "I know."

They held each other for a few minutes before Jim spoke again. "Hey, I should tell you - I had a weird dream too."

She leaned back so she could look at him. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, it was really vivid. Roy kicked my ass," he said sheepishly.

"What?" She had a strange sensation in her stomach.

"We were in, like, a hospital or something, and I... I can't remember what I was doing there but he punched me in the face..." His hand moved up to lightly rub his cheek as he smiled. "I can still kind of feel it."

Pam stared at him.

"What?" he asked, puzzled at her expression.

"Did you get arrested?" she asked.

"Yeah, both of us - hey, how did you know?"

She paused for a second, unable to articulate how she knew, then finally replied with a grin, "Just a lucky guess."