Jim quickly glanced into the rearview mirror as he made a slow right hand turn, "Filipelli?"

Karen rested her head against the back of her seat, her eyes closed, her stomach churning, "Yes, Halpert?"

"Are you at all familiar with any car games?"

"The only car game I play is how far along into said road trip before I have to throw up." Karen peeked open one eye to see Jim’s disappointed face quickly turn away from hers, "I guess I forgot to mention that I’m quite prone to car-sickness. That is why I’m sitting in the back seat, Jim."

Jim tried to play off the disappointment, "Really? I just thought you had a Driving Miss Daisy fetish or something."

Karen scoffed, "Normally, I just sleep on long car rides to avoid the car sickness. I know it’s hard to believe, but vomiting isn’t very fun nor is it attractive in front of your boyfriend."

The car slowed down in front of a large apartment complex, "So, no game-playing for you?"

Karen leaned further back in her seat as she looked outside her window, "Looks like you’ll have to find your fun someplace else." Her eyes immediately found the curly haired receptionist with a bag in her hand headed towards them.

 "There’s Pam."

Yes, Pam was there. Always there, he feared.

Jim threw the car in park as he diligently stepped out the car and moved toward Pam. He graciously smiled as she thanked him yet again for letting her bum a ride to Michael’s farewell party. He took the bag from her, placing it in his trunk beside his and Karen’s bags. Pam moved toward the back seat, hoping for this ride to be short and sweet, when she realized that Karen was now laying in the back of it. Jim hopped back into the driver’s seat, Pam sticking her head in the open passenger window, "Uh, is this seat taken?"

Jim smiled, revving up the car again, "Well, it looks like it’s about to be. Hop in, Beesley."

She opened the door, quickly getting comfortable, and Jim couldn’t help but notice that she smelled like vanilla. He wondered if it was her shampoo or a new soap or maybe she was wearing a new perfume. All he did know was his girlfriend was sitting directly behind him and he should not be trying to figure out the exact smell of Pam. He shook his head silently as he drove the car away, wondering why he ever agreed to this.

Well, he knew why he agreed to it. Pam needed a ride, Pam was his friend. It made sense. That’s what friends do. And he was with Karen now. Happy with Karen, content with Karen. He wasn’t in love with Pam anymore. No. Distance and ‘I can’t’ had changed everything. Now, they were just friends again. Just friends.

Fifteen minutes later, six songs on the radio, and Karen happily snoring in the back seat, they were finally on the highway, headed toward the weekend destination.

The radio station went to some commercials, Jim lazily tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, Pam sighed.

The traffic wasn’t too heavy, but the car ride did seem to take much, much longer than anticipated. Soon enough, the silence became to much to bear, "I’m bored."

Pam turned to look at him, "I’m sorry. Bored. Bored? Yeah, I’m completely unfamiliar with that terminology given my riveting work environment."

Jim smirked, "If we could all be so lucky."

Pam pressed on, her eyes moving back outside her own windown, "Well, not every office is blessed with a co-worker like Dwight Schrute."

He laughed out loud, unable to hold it in, feeling the tension immediately drift away. "And thank the Good Lord for that, Beesley."

"So."

"So?"

"You do have a car game in mind, right?"

And then, just for that tiny second, he fell in love with her all over again. But he didn’t let it show. He shook it off, offering games.

"50 states?"

"We’re not traveling across country, Jim. We’re hardly traveling across state."

"I spy?"

"Okay, would you like me to read you a bed time story before nap time too?"

"Name That Tune?"

"I will not subject myself yet again to your singing voice."

Jim chuckled, "You don’t make it easy on a guy, Beesley. Fine. Since no car game meets your satisfaction, at least tell me if you’re excited for our little office trip. I mean, Michael’s farewell party? Hijinks will and must ensue. You up for it?"

Pam nodded briefly, hopping that this party would be just the change of pace she needed, "I’ll say this. Pamela Beesley never turns down a good party." Jim nodded, agreeing, "And what about you?"

Jim shrugged his shoulders, changing lanes, "I always enjoy seeing reputable people...", he glanced quickly at her, "....make fools of themselves."

Her jaw fell slightly open, "Was that pointed look in my direction?"

Jim could only laugh, "Well, you have been known to be, let’s say unpredictable while intoxicated."

Pam couldn’t quite believe her ears, "I’m unpredictable because I fell off a bar stool?"

Jim shook his head, answering faster than he should have, "No, you’re unpredictable because you kissed me."

Her response was even quicker, "And you consider a kiss between us unpredictable?"

And then, a thick, thick silence filled the car. Both of them unsure what to say, or how much to take back, or what to do. The car was hot, the ride was long, their past was in their face, and his future was asleep in the back seat.

A dark flush crept over her cheeks, forcing her to turn completely away from him, suddenly feeling trapped and very, very small.

"I really just said that out loud, didn’t I?"

Jim found it suddenly very hard to swallow or catch an even breath, "Yeah."

Her hands covered her face then, "I’m so sorry. I..."

Jim tried to shake off that overwhelming feeling in the pit of his stomach, his eyes glancing in the rearview mirror. "It’s okay. Karen’s asleep."

Karen’s name coming from his lips made her a thousand times before embarrassed, "Still... I shouldn’t have. It’s inappropriate....and stupid."

Jim tried to ease her fears, stepping on the gas a little harder, hoping to get there a little sooner, "It’s fine. You know, appropriate is highly overrated anyway." He tried to change topics, wishing to ease the thick tension, "Karen. She gets car sick apparently. That’s what she’s in the back. Asleep. Dead to the world. So, you coming along for the ride, was a.. a welcome distraction."

He gathered soon after that that she didn’t appreciate being called a distraction.

She quickly changed the conversation again, "So, do you think this party will be a nightmare or relatively fun?"

Jim exhaled, "James Halpert creates his own fun. And speaking of which, how about a good ol’ game of truth or dare?"

Pam looked over at him strangely, "We’re stuck in a car in the middle of the freeway. How could you possibly create a dare?"

Jim agreed, "Good point. Truth or truth, then."

Pam laughed, feeling a little bit better, "So, basically, we’re going to ask each other random, personal questions and make this long car ride as awkward as possible?"

Jim considered a question for a moment, then nodded, "Correct."

She only smiled back, "I’m game."

"Okay, Beesley. Truth or truth?"

She thought for a moment, weighing the choice as if it were the most vital on earth, "Well, given the variety of choices, I will take the first truth, please."

Jim nodded, "That would be a two part question, Pam. First part. Exactly how many pranks did you pull on Dwight in my absence?"

Pam leaned back against her seat, folding her arms over her chest, "The entire time? God. Like....none. Oh, except your Christmas present."

Jim was surprised by the answer, taken slightly aback, "So, you really must have missed me, huh?"

A sad smile spread over her lips, "Yeah. And now it’s your turn."

He quickly interrupted, "But I have a second part."

She only nodded, "Yeah, and you asked if I missed you. Asked and answered. My turn. Truth or truth?"

"That is overt cheating, Beesley, but I respect the cheating nonetheless. Now, let me think. The second truth, if you don’t mind."

Pam though it over, and announced, "Ah. A three parter."

Jim feigned disappointment, "Damn."

"One. When did you get this car?"

"It’s Karen’s."

"Two. Who in God’s name taught you how to drive?"

"My uncle who spent most of my adolescent years in rehab and AA meetings."

"Three. When was the first time you wanted to kiss me?"

Unable to breathe, move, or not answer the question, Jim turned the car into the nearly empty parking lot of Holiday Inn hotel that Michael was holding his party in, pulled into a nearby parking space, shut off the car, and never looked her way, "Probably around the time you said hi, my name is Pam."

And then he walked out of the car, his heart beating rapidly against his chest, without another word or glance.

This party, he decided then and there, was not going to end well.