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Author's Chapter Notes:

Spoilers through Cocktails.

FABULOUS title supplied by Par5!  Also the supplier of the 5 elements!! Yay!

Written for the 5 element improv!fanfic. The elements are: dr. pepper, a calculator missing the #7 key, a concert ticket stub, a dying houseplant, and a single brown argyle sock.

I own nothing by my desire for these characters' happiness. Oh, and a tin of dark chocolate ginger Altoids. No Copywrite Infringement is Ever Intended.

“Damn it, Jim!” Dwight yelled, slamming his calculator on the desk. “Where is it?”

Jim looked up from his computer screen. “Where is what?”

“The number seven button.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Jim said.

“Yes, you do. My calculator is missing the number seven button and I know you had something to do with it. Number sevens don't just get up and go walking off.”

“True,” Jim nodded. “Usually it's the threes that have a yen to go wandering.”

“Just tell me where it is before I go tell Michael.”

Jim sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “Have you checked the freezer in the kitchen?”

Dwight stood up and stormed off towards the kitchen. Pam leaned over her desk and could see Dwight through the blinds poking his head into the freezer. She watched as he took an ice cube tray out and peered into it. “Damn it, Jim!” he said again.

Pam frowned. She hadn't been in on this prank. It had been a while since Jim asked for her help with a prank. She took slight comfort in the fact that it didn't look like Karen had any hand in it either. Ever since the night she told Roy about kissing Jim, Pam's whole world had fallen down around her. She completely and irrevocably severed ties with Roy; there was no going back after what happened in Poor Richards.

Roy missed work for a few days then showed up in the office drunk. Roy had accused Jim of breaking up his marriage plans in front of the entire office; no blows were exchanged between Roy and Jim, but the fight between Karen and Jim in the break room after Roy was escorted off-site was loud enough for Pam to hear at her desk. Since then Pam hadn't said a word to Karen or Jim, and they clearly weren't talking much to each other. Pam felt bad, but she was also very angry at Jim. Ever since she went home with Roy at Phyllis' wedding he had been barely civil to her. Now it was like he saw right through her, and frankly his sullen emo attitude was wearing thin with her. He wasn't the only one suffering. No now, and not then. And she started to think that she was going to punch himself herself if he didn't start cutting her some slack.

Irritated with Jim, she got up from her desk and walked into the kitchen. Dwight was standing at the sink, running hot water on the ice cube containing the missing number button from his calculator.

“Need any help?” she asked, though it was clear he didn't.

“No, unless you are here to destroy Jim Halpert.” The seriousness of Dwight's tone made Pam laugh, and laugh loudly.

“Hey, let me take you to lunch today,” Pam offered, kind of surprised as the words came out of her mouth.

Dwight looked up at her suspiciously. “Why would you want to do that?”

She thought a moment. “To make up for the stupid things,” she said. “Besides, you were there for me when I needed a friend a little while back, and I never properly thanked you.”

Dwight turned off the kitchen tap and grabbed a paper towel to dry off his plastic calculator button. He seemed to be thinking the matter over, testing it for faulty logic or trickery. “I don't know if my girlfriend would like me going to lunch with another woman.”

“Surely your girlfriend is okay with the idea of you having friends that our women,” Pam replied. “Tell her it's just a thank you lunch.”

Dwight looked at Pam, his brows furrowed together. “Okay, but I get to pick the place. Just in case my girlfriend wants to come by and check on us.”

“Okay,” Pam replied, almost sorry now that she'd asked him. “What time do you want to go?”

Dwight looked at his watch. “It's ten o'clock now. We should leave at noon, and be back by one o'clock. I will drive.”

“Perfect,” Pam said, forcing a smile she didn't really feel. “It will be fun.”

“I know exactly where we'll go. They make the world's best Dr. Pepper floats.” With that Dwight walked out of the kitchen, leaving Pam to wonder what in the world had happened to her life that she was now resorting to lunch dates with Dwight.

As she walked out of the kitchen she immediately felt Jim's eyes on her. She looked up and met his stare, refusing to be the first to look away. He glanced back down to his desk as she approached, and she felt a little thrill of victory that he had looked away first. The thrill changed very quickly to sadness, as she asked herself if that's all they had become reduced to - silent glances from across the room that asked nothing nor explained anything. Just one big empty space between them.

At ten to twelve Dwight stood up and walked over to Pam's desk. “Will you be ready to go in ten minutes?” he asked. She noticed that Jim jerked his head around at Dwight's question, but stopped at looking directly at her.

“Oh yes, I'll be ready,” she said, forcing herself to sound cheerier than she felt for Jim's benefit. Dwight nodded and walked back to his desk.

Pam decided a bathroom break was in order before she left. As she was walking out of the stall, Angela walked in, her expression guarded.

“I see you are going out to lunch with Dwight,” Angela said evenly as she washed her hands.

“Yes, I just wanted to thank him for being so considerate to me a little while back,” Pam explained. “I'm sure his girlfriend would understand that sometimes men and women go out together for lunch just as friends.”

Angela looked at Pam through the mirror. “Yes, I'm sure his girlfriend would understand something like that.” She grabbed a paper towel. “I hope you both have a nice lunch.”

“Thanks,” Pam replied as she watched Angela walk out.

Pam was coming out of the bathroom when she ran into Jim walking into the kitchen.

“Whoa!” Pam said, as Jim grabbed her arm to prevent her from falling.

“Sorry,” he said.

“That's okay,” she said, clearly embarrassed. “It was my fault for not looking where I was going.” She pulled her arm back when she realized he was still holding onto her. She was nearly out the door when she heard him speak again.

“So you're really going to go out to lunch with Dwight?” he asked incredulously.

She turned back around. “Yes,” she replied, as if daring him to challenge her.

Jim leaned on the open fridge door, his eyes unreadable. “For God's sake, why?”

She stared at him for a moment, torn between the truth and a sarcastic remark. In the end she settled for a little of both. “Because he's been a real friend to me lately, something I haven't had from anyone else in a long, long time.” She turned and walked out of the kitchen before she showed how really miserable she was.

She saw Dwight standing at his desk, searching for something in his suit jacket pockets. A ticket stub to last month's Kitaro concert fell out. He picked it up off his desk and stuck in into his top drawer. “That needs to go home for the scrapbook,” he said to no one in particular.

Dwight drove her to a small diner on the edge of town. It seemed a little run down, but the smells that hit Pam as Dwight held the door open for her were very appealing.

“I've never been here,” Pam remarked.

“It's one of the only restaurants my cousin Mose will eat at because they buy local produce and animal products,” Dwight told her as they sat down at an empty booth. He addressed the waitress as she approached. “Hey Sylvia, see that plant next to the cash register? That's a Chlorophytum capense, and it loves shade, not all the sunshine you're giving it. That's why it's dying.”

“Thanks, I'll let them know,” Sylvia replied. “What can I get you guys?”

“What do you suggest, Dwight?” Pam asked, looking over the single page laminated menu.

“Two turkey club sandwiches,” Dwight told the waitress. “I'll have the sweet potato french fries as well.”

“Oh, those sound good,” Pam enthused, “Me, too. Oh, and a glass of water.”

“Coffee, please, Sylvia,” Dwight added.

Then the unlikely lunch companions were left alone, and Pam fidgeted with the band of her watch while she looked out the window at the virtually empty street.

Dwight cleared his throat. “I had a chance to talk to my girlfriend, and she said she didn't have any problem with our having lunch.”

“I know,” Pam said, “She told me the same thing.”

“No, she didn't,” Dwight replied. “You don't know my girlfriend.”

Pam looked at Dwight and had to smile. Clearly Angela had not told him about their talks. “Yes, I do, Dwight,” she said gently. “Angela was so distraught when you quit Dunder Mifflin for those few weeks that she confided in me.”

Dwight was clearly taken aback by the news. “Oh,” was all he could say.

She leaned forward. “I haven't told a soul, and I have no intention to,” she assured him.

“I don't care who knows,” he said simply. “It's Angela that thinks we need to keep quiet about it. I'm very proud that she's my girlfriend, so I don't understand her reticence.”

“Well, I don't know what her reasons are either,” Pam said. “But I know she's very proud of you.” She felt good about telling him that when she saw how pleased he looked at her remark.

“Well, if she told you, then perhaps she's starting to change her mind,” he replied.

Sylvia the waitress soon brought their food, and they ate in silence for a while.

When they were practically finished, Dwight spoke again. “So what's wrong between you and Jim?”

Pam was taken aback. If Dwight noticed their estrangement, who else in the office was talking about them?

“What do you mean?” she stammered.

He gave her a stern stare. “Fact: the more Jim talks to you, the better mood he is in at work. Fact: He's been incredibly morose lately. I can only conclude you two have had some sort of falling out.”

“Well, I don't see how you've come to that conclusion,” Pam replied, poking around the last of her sweet potato fries. “He did just break up with Karen. I'm sure that hasn't helped.”

“Incorrect. I've already factored his relationship with Karen into the assessment of his moods. She has had practically no effect on his attitude, whereas you have a disproportionally high effect, given that you are not, and have never been, his girlfriend.” Dwight continued to stare at Pam.

“What do you want me to say to that? He and I hardly ever talk anymore.” She didn't mean to get emotional, but she felt herself tearing up.

“Did you not hear what I just said? I'm asking why aren't you? It's clear he's been miserable lately, and it's clear it's because you two are not talking. So talk to him.”

“I wish it were that simple, Dwight. I don't think he wants to talk to me.” She looked up at him, slightly irritated by his digging. “Why do you care anyway? Jim makes you crazy.”

“It is always important to understand the mind of your enemies.” Dwight replied. “I know what to expect from Jim when he's in a good mood. I am not so sure what to expect from him when he is not. I would just prefer he go back to being predictable.”

“Yeah, me too,” Pam sighed. Pam noticed Dwight's gaze was still on her, and it made her self-conscious. “Why are you staring at me?”

“You are in love with Jim.” Dwight said it more as a statement-of-fact than a question.

For once, Pam didn't feel like denying it. It wasn't like he hadn't already found her crying in the hallway over Jim, even if he didn't fully realize it. Besides, she doubted very much that even if Dwight told him that Jim would believe it.

“For all the good it's doing me,” she finally replied.

“Well, you need to tell him.”

She couldn't help but smile at the simplicity of his view. “It's not that simple.”

“And why isn't it?”

She sighed. She might as well tell him everything now. “Last year he told me he loved me and then he left when I couldn't give him the answer he wanted. Since then he started dating Karen, and so I'm sure he's over me. I'm afraid I'm just a little too late now.”

Dwight considered this in silence while he finished his food. When the waitress brought the bill over, he reached for it.

“Hey, this was my idea,” she said. “Let me pay for lunch.”

Dwight shook his head as he stood to walk to the register. “You just worry about telling Jim how you feel.”

On the drive back to the office Dwight seemed to be obsessed with Pam's reasons for keeping quiet. No matter what reason she gave, he found some rational to dismiss it. By the time he parked his Trans Am in the Dunder Mifflin lot, she was eager to get out of his car and off the hot seat. She jumped when he reached for her arm to stop her.

“Tell me this: if you are currently unhappy, how can telling him make you any more so? You don't have him now, and the worst-case scenario is that you still don't have him after you say something. But what if the worst-case scenario doesn't come true?”

Dwight exited the car before she could answer, but she thought about his question as they went up to the office. Jim had turned to look at them as they walked back in, but she pretended not to notice as she took off her coat. As she hung it on the rack she noticed a single brown argyle sock clinging to the back of her coat. She looked at it strangely, and stuck into Dwight's coat pocket. When she sat down at her desk, she was still kind of in shock that Dwight could be that insightful, especially about something so personal. She had to admit that even though she knew he was seeing Angela, she'd never really credited him with real feelings before. But clearly she'd been wrong.

She thought about his 'analysis' that Jim was happier when he talked to her. She knew it certainly made her happier talking to him, but could the converse be true as well? And had anyone else ever noticed that? She spent the afternoon in a contemplative mood, always coming back to his question: But what if the worse-case scenario doesn't come true?

As five o'clock neared, Pam felt increasingly torn. Was today the day she told Jim the truth, and let things finally play out, or did she just hold it all in for another day? She took the coward's way out and decided to let fate decide. She would wait and see how long it took Jim to leave for the night. If they were the last two people in the office, then she'd take it as a sign that it was time to confess.

As luck would have it, she received an email from Jim almost immediately these thoughts. It contained one sentence: Can I talk to you after everyone's left? She felt a wave of nervousness go through her. If she wanted her sign, there it was.

Her reply was even shorter: Yes.

Dwight stopped at her desk as he put on his coat to leave. “Tell him,” he said, his voice loud enough for Jim to have easily overheard.

“Thanks for lunch, Dwight,” she replied. “I really appreciated it.”

“Tell him,” he repeated, eyeing her such intensity that she wondered if he was trying some sort of mind control technique on her. The idea made her giggle a bit.

“Okay,” she finally replied back. “I got it.”

He nodded. “Good. This will restore balance to the Force.” He walked out of the office, Angela discreetly following.

Pam buried herself in a sudoku game (medium level) so she didn't start to hyperventilate at the thought of what she was about to do. She wondered what Jim wanted to talk to her about, and was certain it wasn't anything good. That only made the whole situation seem more hopeless. She'd distracted herself with her game successfully enough that she actually jumped in her chair when Jim appeared at her desk.

“Just me,” Jim laughed. “I'd forgotten how easy it is to scare you.”

She canceled her game, and turned to face him. “There was something you wanted to talk to me about?” she said, hoping she didn't appear as nervous as she felt.

Jim jerked his head back. “Can we go back into the break room? I know everyone's gone, but I'd just like to be somewhere more private.”

Oh, dear, she thought. This must be bad. How can you break up with someone you aren't even dating? The knot in her stomach tightened as she followed him to the back of the office.

He held open the break room door for her, and she sat down at the back far table. Her hands were laced together, and she squeezed them together to give her mind something to focus on.

“I've been thinking about what you said before you left for lunch,” Jim said. He started speaking even before he sat down across from her at the table. “It made me realize that I haven't really been fair to you.”

She just nodded, unsure of what to say.

“And you're right,” he continued. “I have been a very lousy friend. And I'm sorry about that.”

Pam found herself wanting to defend him, even though she knew he was right. “I probably haven't been a very good friend either,” she said, “and I'm still so sorry about what happened with Roy. I feel like it's my fault you and Karen broke up.”

Jim rubbed his neck. “You're not entirely wrong about that, but not in the way you think,” he said cryptically. “She and I just wanted different things.”

Jim paused, and Pam sensed her opening. “Well, even if it wasn't my fault, I'm not sorry that you aren't seeing her anymore.”

“No?” Jim visibly tensed at her confession. “Why not?”

She took a deep breath. She felt his rush of adrenaline, and briefly swore that if this all turned out okay, the first thing she would do tomorrow would be to give Dwight a kiss. “Because I'm in love with you,” she said. “I have been for so long and it's been killing me every day to see the two of you together.” His expression did not change so she kept talking. “I don't expect this to change anything between us, but I can't go on pretending that I don't love you when I do. I really do.”

His silence was crumbling what was left of her courage, so she stood up to leave. She didn't need to hear him tell her that she was too late. She knew it. But at least she'd finally spoken up. That's more than the Old Pam would have done.

“Where are you going?” He asked. He remained in his chair, his head bowed slightly, staring down at his hands that were entwined together as hers had been.

“I-I don't know,” she replied, not sure what he was asking. “Home, I guess.”

“Why haven't you said anything sooner?” He asked, his voice surprising Pam by its tone of sadness.

“I didn't think it mattered. I thought you were over me and I didn't want it to seem like I was trying to break the two of you up. I thought if you were still interested in me, you'd make that clear.”

Jim made a sound that seemed like a cross between a laugh and a snort. “Yeah, and I guess I thought if you had any feelings for me, you'd make that clear.”

She stared at Jim, not quite able to believe that he was telling her he would have welcomed her affections sooner. “So I guess I'm too late in many ways,” she finally said.

Jim stood up and stepped toward her. “Late, but not really too late,” he said.

Pam was aware of how hard her heart had started pounding, and she felt riveted to the floor as Jim continued to move towards her. “Not too late,” was all she could manage to say, and even that died on her lips as she looked into his eyes. There was a light in his eyes she hadn't seen for months.

“So do you think we even stand a chance?” He said, his familiar smile returning.

“You mean considering we've made a complete disaster of it so far?”

He laughed and she thought it was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard. “Yeah, exactly,” he replied.

“I'd like to try,” she said.

“Me, too.” Jim leaned down and Pam reached up and somewhere in the middle their lips met in a kiss. She could feel his arms going around her, and without even thinking she found her fingers touching his neck and twisting up into his hair. It was like their last kiss, but better. They clung to each other for minutes, neither willing to be the first to end it.

Finally Pam said, “Do you want to go get something to eat? I know this great little diner...”








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