*****

He kicked the machine in frustration.  He had known he had been flirting with disaster as far as deadlines went.  He was late editing and putting together training manuals for the business students who would be coming for a seminar the next day.  After Jan had come to her senses and decided to somehow protect Dunder-Mifflin's good name (or at least, what little reputability it had), Michael had been forbidden from offering any kind of "Top 10 Business Tips" seminar.  The task had then fallen on Jim's desk as second in command in the office.  He was really looking forward to leading a seminar.  It should be stimulating to do something besides talking on the phone and filling forms. He was not pleased however with a day at the office stretching into night in company of a copier that kept jamming. 

"Damn it."

He looked at the multitude of blinking lights and buzzing sounds emanating from the display panel.  He kneeled on the floor, opening the front panel of the machine, looking for the jam at points "E" and "G".  Whatever that meant.   He usually avoided photocopiers like the plague since they seemed to have an aversion to him.  They would run out of toner, jam, print pages with a big blob of ink in the middle.  His tie had even once gotten caught into the autofeeder of their old machine.  However, tonight, he was alone to face the beast, mano-to-mano, to finish his printing job. 

Unfortunately, he was having little luck.  After 15 minutes, despite turning all the knobs he could find, opening all possible panels, and turning the copier on and off multiple times, the "sorry out of luck" buzzing sound was still taunting him. 

He now knew what he had to do and he really didn't want to resort to it.  He tried to come up what all the alternate solutions and rationalizations possible, but the only solution available to him if he wanted to get these manuals printed laid clear in front of him: he had to call Pam.

Pam was the copier's best friend.  She had the magic touch, just like Phyllis seemed to have her way with the coffee machine and Dwight could somehow get the printer fixed in no time.  The copier must have sensed Pam was not intimidated in the slightest, and thus always cooperated.

*****

"I'm sorry you had to come all the way out here... Copier repair by phone is like trying to put together Ikea furniture without instruction... It can't be done."

"That's okay..."  He heard her mumble as she crouched in front of the machine.   

He could see she was none too happy about having been disturbed on a Thursday night for a paper-related emergency, so he attempted to lighten the atmosphere.  "It is a well known fact the less time you have to do a printing job, the hungrier copiers get."  Her face stayed impassive as she pulled and turned a series of knobs and levers.

Silence reigned in the office save for the groanings and clankings emerging from the copier.  Jim grew increasingly uncomfortable with the less than companionable silence.  Attempts at levity hadn't worked.  He wasn't sure what to talk to her about, which was pretty sad considering that was what they used to do best.  He decided to stick to the mundane.

"So what were you doing when I called?  I hope I didn't pull you away from anything important..."

"Just laundry."

"Do you always do your laundry on Thursday nights?"

"Yeah, always."

Two-word answers.  He wasn't getting far.  Yet, he felt compelled to keep talking, somehow hoping to extract some important fact about her current life.  A life he knew little about.   "Do you have a washer and a drier at your place?"

"I do."  She sighed.

"Will you be able to finish it another night instead?"

"Jim, why does it matter?"  He wanted to attribute the irritation in her voice solely to her current struggle with the copier.  However, he had known Pam for far too many years to truly believe that explanation. 

"I guess it doesn't.  I wanted to make sure it would be okay for you..." He knew her laundry schedule didn't matter.  He was well aware he had no right to inquire after having tried to keep his distance in recent months.  He just wanted the strained feeling that seemed to exist between them to vanish if only for a few minutes while they were alone together.

"Oh, so you're back to caring now?"  The words were spoken under her breath as she lifted a lever and pulled forcefully on a crumpled sheet of paper.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He was surprised how much her words stung.

"Nevermind."  She had finally been able to dislodge the sheet that had caused this fiasco in the first place.

"Don't ‘nevermind' me.  I was just trying to be nice..."

"Well, excuse me if I have a hard time following your mood these days..."  She slammed the front panel back in place, and turned her attention to the control panel to bring the copier back to life.

"Wow.  I just... That's just...spectacularly unfair."  At that moment, the copier recovered from its injured state, spitting out paper as if nothing had ever happened.  The wounds seemed to have now migrated to its operator.

"Copier is fixed.  I need to get going..."  She walked back towards the reception desk to grab her purse and coat, which she had dropped on the counter.

"Seriously, we're not gonna talk about this?" He couldn't believe his ears.

She exited the office, walking towards the elevator, with Jim on her heels.  "What's there to talk about?  You're nice to me because I helped you out tonight, but otherwise, you've barely said two words to me all week.  We've had a handful of conversations that weren't work-related in I don't know how long." She reached the elevator, pushing the downward arrow.  "And you know what?  It's fine.  I'm okay with that. You're busy, and that's life..."

"Oh, you sound just fine..." His tone betrayed his exasperation.  "Why are you so angry at me all of a sudden?"

"I'm not angry... I'm just not having this conversation."  She stated calmly as she stepped into the elevator.  But he knew the look in her eyes betrayed anything but coolness.  He wasn't about to let her walk away from the opportunity to clear the air so he boarded the elevator as well.  "Jim, go back to printing your manuals."

"Why can't we have a normal conversation like we used to?"  He knew he was pushing her, but couldn't stop.

She snickered.  "You've made it clear that you didn't want things the way they used to be..."  She appeared to grow weary of this conversation. "I came to help because I didn't want you to be stuck here till dawn but I didn't sign up for anything else. What more do you want from me?"

This conversation was starting to make his head throb. "I just wanna know that we can talk... I can't believe you think I don't care."  The elevator came to a standstill and the door opened unto the lobby.  They exited, and Pam pulled out her key to unlock the building door.  She did so in a calm fashion, unlike the trapped animal that had tried to escape the office a few minutes earlier.  The irritation and frustration seemed to have been replaced by a sad resignation.

"Jim, we can't... I can't do this, okay?"  She kept her eyes trained on the lock, clearly avoiding his searching look.  "I know you probably care, but honestly, it's hard to believe these days.  You rarely stop by my desk, and even if you come by just to get your messages, Karen gives me the evil eye.  It's not exactly fun."  She opened the door and stepped out into the cool night.

"Karen doesn't give you dirty looks."

Pam turned around, raising her eyebrows as if to say "Spare me, Halpert."  He knew that skeptical look too well.  "Jim, you really don't need to follow me to my car."

"Dwight's not around so someone needs to be your bodyguard." He could see Pam suppress a smile by the way the left corner of her mouth just rose slightly. "I'm sorry if Karen's been making you uncomfortable."

She shrugged. "Not your fault."

"A little my fault...And I do care.  Really."

They reached Pam's car, and she rooted through her purse to find her keys.

"I know...It's just been a rough year.  I never thought I'd have to live through it without my best friend."  She looked up at him, sadness painted all over her face.

"Well, maybe we can fix that..."

She had found her car keys, and was now jingling them in her right hand.  They sounded like one of those silver bells his mom put in the Christmas tree every year. "We can't go back.  We can't erase what happened.  I know I can't. You know...I don't really want to." 

Jim looked at her puzzlingly.  He felt like he had missed a turn in that conversation.

She appeared to hesitate but continued.  "I...I'm glad I didn't marry Roy.  I'm glad I'm doing my own thing..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, while she focused intently on her shoes. "I'm glad you said something in May.  It threw me for a loop, but after I thought about it, it made me happy because I realized that's what I wanted too."

Of all the things he expected to come out of this conversation, this was not one of them.  He was speechless.  He had to lean against her car to muffle the shock.

"Stupid, huh? We're all about wrong timing..."  She said as she climbed into her car.

"You might not be as late as you think..."  Words seemed to have returned to him along with his smile.  "I swear I can fix this mess better than I can the copier." 

She smiled.  "Well, the bar was not too high on that front, was it?"  They both chuckled.  

"Pam, I'm really sorry for the way I handled this.  I just got stupid when things didn't go my way..."  He shook his head in dismay.  "And then, I didn't know how to handle returning to Scranton.  I wanted it not to be awkward... So much for that, huh? "

"Well, I didn't help.  I should have called before you came back...I should have been honest with you.  I'm not sure why I wasn't able to do it."

"Let's say we try to look forward, okay?  My feelings haven't changed."  He broke into a grin, and Pam smiled back at him with a blush now apparent on her cheeks. 

"I just need a few days to talk to Karen...No more messes." 

She nodded.

"Maybe we could go for lunch on Monday?  Cugino's?" he suggested.

"Deal.  You better get back to your printing if you don't want to be here all night...  I'll see you tomorrow." She said in her softest tone.  She closed her car door and pulled out of her spot, waving as she left the parking lot.

So now he had to go back to printing documents?  He didn't exactly feel like his brain could focus on anything besides Pam's words, but printing was fairly mindless as far as work went.  Besides, the copier was now his favourite office appliance, which he promised himself he'd never kick again.