It was a rainy Saturday afternoon in Scranton, and Pam Beesly was not in a good mood.

Of course there had to be a torrential downpour when she had to run errands. Of course she had to wait at the pharmacy for nearly fifteen minutes because the prescription for her allergy medication was out of refills. Of course she had to step in a puddle in the parking lot, soaking her jeans and getting her new slip-on Keds all soggy. And of course, now that she had one last stop to make, there was not a single parking spot available in the entire lot of the Target in Dickson City.

Nothing is ever easy, she thought. Everything in her life right now just had to be complicated. Her wipers squeaked with effort as they valiantly tried (and failed) to keep her car's windshield clear. Pam glanced behind her and noticed a couple, holding hands as they braved the elements and rushed out of the store. Bingo! She crept behind them until they found their car.

Pam put her car in park and rapped her fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. She felt slightly stalkerish, waiting to steal their spot, but desperate times called for desperate measures. The woman held a large blue and white golf umbrella over the man's head as he hurled Target bag after Target bag into the trunk of their SUV. Pam sighed, wishing they'd just hurry up already. When the man finished, he leaned over and kissed the woman on the cheek. Pam rolled her eyes, but felt a stab of hurt in her chest. It was such a simple gesture, but it brought up feelings Pam was usually pretty good at ignoring. God, I really need a boyfriend, she thought as she pulled into the now vacant parking space. I certainly wouldn't be in such a bad mood if I were here with...

No. She was not going to think about Jim. It's not like Jim ever thinks about me anymore. He was probably off doing something romantic with his awesome girlfriend, maybe celebrating their six months and one week anniversary. No. Pam shook her head and fought the urge to gag. No more thinking about Jim, she thought as she grabbed her umbrella and opened the car door with a newly found sense of purpose.

One thing Pam did like about the rain was that she got to use her cute umbrella, which she had gotten at this very Target. She got compliments on the umbrella's fun polka-dotted pattern all the time. As she got out of her little car, she was overtaken by a strong gust of wind. So strong, in fact, that she nearly lost her grip on her prized umbrella. Clasping it tightly in her hand, she braved the wind and stalked off towards the entrance. The wind grew stronger, though, and soon Pam's umbrella was inverted, and she was getting pelted by some serious rain. With a sigh of frustration, she gritted her teeth and quickened her pace. Typical.

She entered the store and shook off. She surveyed her dismal reflection in the display case that showed the pictures of missing kids. God, I'm a mess. The legs of her jeans were soaked. Two small droplets of water were slowly making their way down her forehead, and her ponytail was getting frizzier by the second. Oh well, Pam thought. It's not like I have anyone to impress.

As she grabbed a big red cart, she realized that, actually, this was all Michael's fault. If he hadn't planned this stupid beach day, she wouldn't have to be here right now, with the impossible task of trying to find a new bathing suit. Because, well, there was no way she was going to wear her nasty, old, teal one-piece with the saggy butt in front of...

Pam closed her eyes and shook her head, like she'd just eaten a bad piece of sushi. No! No more thinking about Jim. In fact, she shouldn't even be thinking of his name. From now on, she'd call him Voldemort – he who shall not be named. How appropriate, she thought. Dwight would certainly approve. Pam sighed and pushed her cart (which had a squeaky wheel, of course) toward the display of bathing suits.

While swimsuit shopping never failed to be a painful process, Pam liked that Target featured many different cuts – halters, tankinis, one pieces, swim skirts, boy shorts. She could be as conservative or as daring as she wanted to be. And with classy guys like Michael, Kevin, and Creed around, she was looking for something that wouldn't draw any unwanted attention.

Or was she? Pam fingered a loud tiger print halter top, which she knew would leave very little to the imagination. I wonder what Voldemort would think of me in this? Pam's cheeks flushed crimson at the very thought. Stop this, she chastised herself. She quickly hung the top back up on the rack. This line of thinking would lead her nowhere.

Out of the corner of her eye, Pam saw a navy blue pattern adorned with tiny pink, white and beige polka dots. It was cute, modern, and fun. Yeah, she thought, this will do. She immediately gravitated towards the one piece, but something stopped her. It wouldn't be wrong to show a little skin, right? I'm sure Karen's not going to be wearing a one piece. She quickly grabbed the bikini bottom in her size. Now, should she go for the tankini or the halter top? She glanced at the tankini, which was certainly more revealing than anything she normally wore. It would show a little cleavage and even a little strip of her stomach. But the halter, wow, that was...something. She knew she could, um, fill it out, but would it be too much? She hemmed and hawed, and then threw both tops in her cart. She'd make a last-minute decision at the register.

Feeling confident in her swimsuit selection, Pam decided to check out the beach bags before trying her selections on in the fitting room. She headed over to the accessories aisle, wincing as her cart's wheel continued to squeak. She looked down at the wheel to see if something was stuck there that could be causing the noise. And she was right – a little piece of a plastic bag was caught in the wheel. She squatted down and grabbed at the plastic, attempting to yank it free. All it needs is one good pull, she thought, when she heard someone say her name.

“Pam?”

No, that couldn't be...could it? Of course. It was Karen. Mrs. Voldemort herself. Oh, God, Pam thought. Was Jim here? Pam stood up quickly and wiped her palms on her jeans.

“Hey, Karen,” Pam said, her eyes darting around, searching for a certain tall paper salesman. “Where's Jim?” Oh, no. Did I really just say that out loud?

Karen blinked twice, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. “Oh, he's, um, playing basketball at the Y.”

Pam nodded, remembering. “Right, the second Saturday of the month.”

A look of surprised realization quickly swept across Karen's face. Pam noticed right then that Karen looked totally different outside of work. She was wearing a long sleeved, white t-shirt, dark gray yoga pants, and sneakers. Her hair was in a messy bun low on her head and she held a red Target basket in her hands. She looked, well, completely normal. Karen attempted a weak smile, and her reply didn't exactly make the situation any less uncomfortable.

“You know Jim and his habits.”

Do I ever, Pam thought. Poker on Thursdays, dinner with his parents on Sundays. She swallowed. The subject needed to be changed. In fact, it never needed to have been brought up in the first place. “So,” she started, more brightly than she felt. “What brings you to Target?”

“Oh, you know, just picking up a few things,” Karen said. Probably a huge box of condoms, lacy black lingerie, and massage oil, Pam thought. Things that people with boyfriends buy. Oh, crap, she thought. I need to say something. Pam shifted on her feet. This was awkward.

“Right, right, me too.” Like that helped anything. Pam was dying to see what Karen had in her basket. It was like a car accident – she had to look, even if she knew she'd be haunted by the gruesome images later. After all, this was a rare glimpse into Jim's Voldemort's personal life. Pam quickly stole a glimpse, and saw a four pack of GE Reveal 60-watt light bulbs, a roll of duct tape, and a can of Reduced Fat Chili Cheese Pringles. Nothing remotely kinky there. Well, Pam thought, except for the duct tape. Pam felt her cheeks redden, but Karen's voice interrupted her lustful thoughts.

“So, are you ready for Michael's beach day?”

“Um, yeah, I guess. I came here to get a bathing suit, actually,” Pam said. Karen's face brightened and she leaned forward to take a look at the contents of Pam's cart.

“Yeah? Did you find anything?”

“Sort of,” Pam said, picking up the two tops. “I just can't decide which top I want.” Pam held the two tops at arms length. She could use a second opinion. Too bad it had to come from the woman who was dating the guy I...never mind.

Karen twisted her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “Well,” she said. “I have no doubt you could pull either of 'em off,” she said with a slight smirk. “But, I would go with this one.” Karen gestured towards the more modest tankini. “I bet Michael would have a field day if you wore that halter top,” Karen said with a laugh and a playful roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, that's what I thought, too,” Pam sighed. “Although, we'd all have to wear burlap sacks if we really wanted to avoid getting inappropriate comments from Michael.”

“Seriously, I bet this whole beach day thing is just a scheme to get all of us women as close to naked as possible.” Pam chuckled. Karen could be all right sometimes. It's no wonder Jim likes her so much. Pam remembered how much fun the two of them had throwing their karaoke Christmas party. It was too bad they couldn't be friends. But, really, why couldn't they? They got along just fine, and actually, they had a lot in common. And I bet she doesn't have many friends in Scranton, Pam thought. Maybe I should ask her if she wants to get a hot dog at the snack bar, or something?

Pam's thoughts jumped quickly. It would start off innocently enough. Lunch at the Target snack bar, pedicures at the day spa, skipping out of work early on a Friday afternoon to see the latest Hugh Grant movie. That would lead to Karen setting Pam up with some cute, single guy she knew from the gym. Then, Pam would start going on double dates with Jim and Karen, and before you'd know it, there she was, drinking way too many appletinis at Karen's bachelorette party. She'd be standing at the altar in a dress she'd never pick out for herself as the Maid of Honor at Jim and Karen's wedding. Soon after, she'd be back at Target, only this time, she'd be buying gifts for their baby shower. Pam's mouth suddenly felt very dry. Yeah. She cleared her throat, filling the uneasy silence that had developed. That's why they couldn't be friends. God, Jim ruins everything.

“Well, I better get going,” Pam said, a little bit too quickly and cheerfully. “Gotta, uh, get ready for, um, art class,” she stammered. Oh, that was such a lie. She did not have art class on Saturdays. In fact, she had absolutely no plans after this last errand. I am so pathetic.

Karen looked disappointed for the briefest of moments, but quickly warmed her face up with a smile. “Okay,” she said. “See you on Monday.”

“Yeah, bye,” Pam said, over her shoulder as she offered Karen a faltering smile and a quick wave. She suddenly needed to get out of Target as quickly as humanly possible. So what if she didn't get to try on the swimsuit? Target has a pretty decent return policy. Pam practically sprinted to the checkout, leaving all things Voldemort behind her in the accessories department. She was relieved to see that checkout lane number five had no line, with a friendly cashier ready and waiting to ring up her purchase. For once today, things went her way.

Pam gave the cashier a grateful smile as she carefully placed her items on the conveyor belt. She held the two bathing suit tops one last time. Modest or sexy? To blend in with the crowd or to stand out? Pam handed the tankini top to the cashier.

“I don't think I'll be taking this today,” she said, proudly. “But I would like this one,” Pam said with a smile, as she placed the halter top on the conveyor belt.

“Thanks, honey,” the cashier said. “If you've got it, flaunt it, right?” the woman giggled as she wiggled her own ample chest before picking up the halter top to scan it.

“That's right,” Pam said with a smile and a laugh. She paid for her purchases and made her way to the exit, ditching the cart with the squeaky wheel. As she stepped outside, she noticed that it had finally stopped raining. The sun was a sliver of white light, trying its best to peek its way out of the foreboding clouds. Pam looked up and gave the sun a smirk. About time you showed up, she thought. She fished her car keys from her purse, gazed out into the sea of cars, and tried to remember where she had parked.