Their very public kiss had been as much a show of force as a romantic gesture. Jim wasn't sure if he had defused the situation or just bought himself a little more time. Pam's words were still ringing in his head. The numbing pain of last year's heartache, which he had ostensibly suppressed into a dormant state, was stirring in his gut once again, triggered by the blatant honesty with which Pam had alluded to the bond that he was trying to forget, or at least ignore. As he lead Karen away from the circle, he had to at first pull her, to fight the inertia of her stunned body. After about ten steps, she had matched his speed and was waking beside him. By the time they reached the water's edge, she had ditched his handhold and was walking directly beside him, pressed into his side with both her arms wrapped around his waist and her face nestled into his shoulder. He instinctively put his arm around her and pulled her in tighter, before squaring his shoulders to her and drawing her in for a real hug. She was shivering. He hated himself for that brief moment less than a minute ago when he had wished she had never come into his life. He hated himself for wishing that Pam would love him with the same unconditional and uncomplicated love that Karen had shown him. And he hated that he hadn't been able to love Karen the same way.

It had been almost a full year. A new city, a new job, a new girlfriend. And she could still make him, a guy normally so comfortable in his own skin, hate himself. It had to be different this time. It just had to stop. He knew her power over him was as potent as ever, but this time he had a way out. He had someone else's strength to draw on. He had Karen, and he needed her now more than ever. It was an awkward thing for Jim to do, but so was everything else in the complicated reality that had just descended on him so abruptly. He knew he was mortgaging the purity of a beautiful moment from the future. He knew it was rushed, forced, and he risked losing the moment altogether. But he was undeterred, and he chose this moment, in the darkness of a May evening on the shores of Lake Scranton, to tell Karen Filippelli that he loved her.

And he was rewarded immediately. As he watched her reaction, time slowed to a crawl and he forgot about all of the turmoil that was pulling his mind in so many directions. Karen looked up at him with such relief in her eyes... she must have been really scared that she was about to lose him. The intensity of her relief paid tribute to the strength, the purity of her love. It made him love being Jim Halpert again. Her gaze contained an affection that said more than her verbal "I love you too" that followed shortly thereafter. She barely got her response out before slamming her head tightly into his chest and squeezing him as tightly as she could. Jim looked down at her, and saw in the moonlight a single tear running down her face. He had made her cry often enough, but always in a way that insured she was too angry or too hurt to let him touch her. This tear was different. It was shed during a moment of beautiful affection, and born only of happiness. Jim reached out and caught her tear on his thumb, and gently rubbed his thumb and forefinger together until it had soaked into his skin. This tear was a special one, and he wanted to keep it. He was so lost in the moment that he didn't even find reason to hate himself by wishing he had the power to make Pam cry tears of happiness.

Jim knew the bus would not leave without them, so he and Karen sat down in the moonlight and nestled together warmly. Michael would send someone to find them when it was time to go. They kissed sporadically, exchanged a few words, but mostly just relaxed and enjoyed each other's company. He had been through enough and needed the serenity of the moment to think. He knew there was a very good chance that he and Karen would be leaving Scranton. He had paid lip service to the thought of moving to New York, but after the events of this evening, the prospect seemed much more real. He'd been reminded how vulnerable, how weak he still was, but this time, with Karen's help, he had forced some happy order back into his life, before it even had time to fall apart. He knew, however, transfer or no transfer, that there was one conversation still left to have. One giant loose end to tie up. A huge open wound that needed closure. For now, though, he was content to enjoy the moment. The bus ride back to reality would come soon enough.