DISCLAIMER: The Office and it's characters are owned by other people, none of them being me. I'm simply paying homage to my favorite show. In fact, they should be flattered. But the truth is I hope that they never find this....please don't sue me.

CHANGING EVERYTHING MAKES IT THE SAME

I: FIND ME

There were times in Jim Halpert would sit and wonder where he lost track of his life.

True, he didn't exactly have a dream when he left junior college. He just knew he wanted to be happy, and while he figured out how to be happy, he'd gotten a job to make sure that he could eat.

Now, here he was, five years later, a paper supply salesman and happiness?

Well, it's nothing that massive amounts of alcohol couldn't solve. Thankfully, his co-workers were only too glad to help.

But the real perk, however, was that the next day he didn't have to think about anything but his massive hangover. Such was the case this morning, after having joined Meredith and Kevin at Poor Richard's the night before.

This morning Meredith had slipped him a horrendous mixture of...something completely disgusting in his regular coffee mug and a bottle of Advil.

"Trust me, it'll get your through the day," she'd said with a knowing smile.

And she was right, it was wearing down, but the flourecent lights were still killing his eyes and the throbbing in his temples barely let up at all. It didn't help that Dwight had decided that today he would check to see if his desk drawers were properly oiled by opening them and slamming them shut repeatedly.

So before he decided to jam WD-40 down Dwight's throat, Jim knew he had to get out of there. Grabbing his coat, he slipped out for lunch.

The elevator had nearly caused him to lose it this morning, making him choose the stairwell, where the lights never really worked anyway.

He let the door shut quietly behind him and he leaned his pounding head against the cool concrete, breathing evenly in relief. The quiet was wonderful and he wondered if there was any way that he could stay here until he fully recovered.

That was until the quiet was interrupted by the echo of a gasp followed by a loud sniffle. Jim frowned at this, since he had thought he was alone. He peered over the railing of the stairs down to the other flights below as more sounds drifted up towards him. Someone was crying.

The part of him that was seriously in need of some peace and quiet told him to just turn around and go find a quiet desk in the back to lay his head against for a while. But the part of him that wanted to help won out and so he slowly made his way down the stairs. Maybe after he was done, he could take a quick nap in his car.

Near the second floor steps he found her, her back to him as she sat on the stairs, her head in her hands, the sounds of her sobs drowning out his footsteps.

Deciding to be cautious, he stayed well above her on the landing and cleared his throat.

"Hey, um, if you need a first aid kit, there's one in the hall," he offered, trying to make sure that she hadn't hurt herself somehow.

She whipped her head around, sending a piece of her hair into her eyes momentarily.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," she said, the color rising to her face as she wiped her cheeks, standing up quickly.

Jim smiled at her and put his hand out to reassure her. "No, it's okay. It's just...you're not hurt, are you?"

She blinked at the question, as he stepped closer.

"No, I'm fine," she said, everything about her demeanor betraying her words.

He looked at her skeptically and the flurecent lights flicker a little, struggling to come back on, but ultimately give up.

She bites her bottom lip and looks at the ground, all the while tugging at the third finger of her left hand. She finally loses it, bringing her hands to her face as she ducks down onto the step again, fresh tears coming up.

Jim frowned, not wanting to leave her alone, he hesitantly moved to sit down beside her on the step. He reached inside his coat pocket, finding some napkins he's stuffed there ages ago, handing them to her.

"I'm sorry," she apologized with a hiccup. She wiped her eyes with the napkins while she took deep breaths to calm herself.

"I don't usually lose it like this," she explained with a small embarrassed smile.

"It's okay," Jim reassured her. "And hey, points go to you for creativity. Most people would choose the bathroom for a breakdown. The dark stairwell is an often overlooked choice."

She chuckled a little and it made him feel better.

"Sorry, I ruined it," he went on.

She shook her head at him, her hair falling in her eyes again in a way he was finding endearing. "No, really, I'm the one intruding."

Jim must have had a confused look on his face because she explained. "You see, I don't actually work here."

"Really?" Jim answered. That would explain why he couldn't place her face. She had looked familiar to him at first.

"So what made you decide that in all the buildings in Scranton, our stairwell was the best choice for your escape?" Jim asked, trying to get her to smile again. "Did you see our ad in Variety?"

"The ad did say it was Sienna Miller's getaway of choice," she replied, quickly picking up on what he was doing, even if there was a sniffle there.

"Which is why I always take the stairs," Jim told her, leaning towards her in a stage whisper.

They both shared a smile over this and fell into silence.

When she spoke up, her tone was more serious. "Actually, I'm here because this is the only place that I know he won't look for me."

Jim frowned at this. "Who?"

"Roy," she answered, "My...well, he was my fiancée..."

She didn't elaborate any further and Jim's mind was running through all sorts of scenarios. Why would she have to hide from her ex? Was she in some sort of trouble?

She seemed to know what he was thinking because she quickly backtracked. "It's nothing bad, I swear. Roy's a great guy. He's probably looking for me to make-up. Because I just kind of...broke up with him."

Jim didn't really know how to respond to that, but he didn't really need to since she went on, words coming out in a big rush.

"And it was all over something so stupid. We've been together for ten years and I just...ended it. We were just sitting in the kitchen and he said something about going up to the lake on the weekend and it suddenly stuck me that I don't paint anymore. And that reminded me of that movie "The Notebook". That girl didn't paint anymore because she'd given up all the things that she wanted to make other people happy and I remembered that had always made me cry because I knew exactly what that was like. Except that I don't have some lost love that I left behind. I left myself behind. And Roy didn't get that. So, I told him we should just...take a step back or something."

She was twisting the paper napkin in her hands and staring at the end of flight of stairs, but Jim could see the tears starting to form again.

"Not that it's a great stretch to do that. We've been engaged for two years and he still hasn't set a date. But he thought I was just talking and didn't mean it, so I took the bus down here this morning to tell him that I'm moving out and...he...well, at any rate, I just ran away. I know he went after me, to apologize or something. I waited until I saw his truck leave to sneak in here. He wouldn't think that I stayed in the same building where he works at, so..."

She let out a sigh as she trailed off, as if she was finally getting rid of a weight that had threatened to crush her. It was then that she seemed to remember that Jim was even there and a flush once again covered her cheeks.

"Oh, God! I'm so sorry to just ramble on like that," she apologized. "You probably don't care about all my drama."

"Seriously, don't apologize. It takes a lot of guts to do what you did," Jim told her honestly. He gave her a lopsided grin. "And don't diss the drama. A lot of people make a decent living on it."

Her smile was really pretty, he thought, even if it was a bit sad.

"Besides," he went on, "Sometimes all you need is someone to listen to you. That's why psychology is the gigantic industry that it is."

There was a pause.

"Come to think of it, do you think I should start charging?"

She really laughed this time and it made him smile.

"I better go," she said then, letting Jim help her stand up and then walk her down to the main lobby. She peeked out the front windows to the parking lot before walking through the door that Jim held open for her.

"That's his truck," Pam said, pointing to the white Ford not far from his own Corolla. "He must be back already."

It suddenly struck Jim that he knew exactly who Roy was, and he remembered seeing her a few times in the past at one or two office parties. Almost simultaneously, he thought that this girl didn't look anything like what he had thought to be Roy's type.

"Do you need a ride or something?" he found himself asking.

She shook her head at him and gave him a small reassuring smile.

"No thanks. The bus stop is just down the street," she vaguely gestured towards the street.

They stood in the parking lot for a second before she spoke up again.

"Thanks. You didn't have to sit there and listen to me go on and on. I don't even know your name."

"Jim. Halpert," he answered, sticking his hand out for her to shake.

"Pam Beesley," she identified herself, her hand small but surprisingly strong in his own.

"Well, I hope that everything works out for you," Jim said, honestly hoping the best for her.

"Thank you. It was really nice to meet you, Jim."

"It was nice to meet you, Pam."

He waved to her as she walked out of the parking lot and found himself still smiling a little even after she was out of sight.

He wasn't sure he still had time to take a quick nap in his car, but as he finally remembered his hangover, things didn't seem so bad afterall.

Maybe Toby would let him hang out with him in the annex for a while.


TBC...

A/N: So this is a story that I've been writing for a while. Yes, I write everything by hand first. This is A/U, obviously, but I wondered what would Jim and Pam be without Dunder Mifflin in common....this is my experiment. I hope you enjoy it.

Please review (it's like CRACK!). Because I will be compulsively checking my reviews. Shameless. That's me. Thanks for reading.
cheers.
--Lex