“Hey.” she watched his silhouette amble towards her. In times like this it was not the sheer attraction she experienced when he was close by (the flushed cheeks, unsteady legs and racy thoughts included) that surprised her, but the knowledge that she could have once deluded herself into thinking that it was part of a normal platonic relationship.

            Once he took his (rightful) place beside her on the terrace steps, she noticed he was considerably less dressed than he was back in the ball room. His sleeves were pushed up to the crook of his elbows exposing the tight forearms she’d once been able to see all day. His hair was a little more tousled and the stubble across his chin hinted at a late night. All of this made up the almost ideal version of himself that Pam wasn’t sure she’d ever see again.

            He looked at her with eyes that smiled and handed her a small plate of cake. “Thought you might get hungry from all that non-dancing your doing.” He winked at her and propped his chin in his hands to stare at the garden of the reception hall.

            Giddy, she took the plate and grinned up at him, “It does work up quite an appetite. I don’t know how I survived without you.”

            “You and me both.” He muttered.

            As she relished the comfortable early spring breeze, the silence lured Pam into thought. She considered the odd place her life was in right now. She felt as if she was in between stages, floating. Like the sherbert that fancy restaurants pass around in between courses to cleanse the pallet. That is what she was doing right now, readying herself for something new and fresh.

            She could feel the warmth of his arm through the thin white cotton of his shirt, and could only hope that he was the next course.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the clamor of a squeaking door below their terrace and a small stern voice, “ D, we really shouldn’t be out here. Anyone could catch see us. Michael, Phyllis, or even Kelly. Like she would have anything to talk about, her always sucking on that temp.” She glanced towards Jim to find his wide, excited eyes a little more sober than they had been back in the ballroom.

            Before either of them could react, another voice joined in a calming tone, “Now Monkey. Don’t blame Kelly, she can’t refuse Ryan’s universal virility. He’s pure man.” Dwight paused for a moment to endure what Pam and Jim could only imagine was a death glare from ‘Monkey’. “Besides everyone’s in there drunk off of their ass-I mean butts.” Pause. “Derrières. Rear Ends.” A defeated sigh met their ears.

            Pam and Jim were stunned. Well, Jim more than Pam. Caught up in his own love sick situation, he didn’t know anything about the budding romance between Dwight and Angela, while Pam knew but didn’t really like to think about it actually existing.

            Jim elbowed her and mouthed (lip-reading always having been one of their strong suits), “What the Fuck?” 

            Pam bit her lip and raised her eyebrows mischievously. 

            “You knew?” he mouthed again, face contorting into curiosity and mock outrage.

            She just smiled.

            Slowly he leaned forward, and for a wild moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead he whispered in her ear with that gravely male voice she had just been contemplating, “I’ll be taking my friendship bracelet back, you know.”

            After she recovered she pointed to her wrist and whispered “Sorry, I left it at home beside my girl-scout sash and my Little Orphan Annie Decoder Ring.”

            Just as he was in the middle of whispering “A Christmas Story references are not fair game when I am trying to un-best friend you, Bee-“ he was interrupted by Dwight moaning lightly.

            “Oh Monkey, why can’t we open up about our love to the office? Then we wouldn’t have to have these clandestine rendezvous all the time. In the Stairwell, in my Car, behind the 9x12 ultra-super bright white in the wear house right beside Roy’s desk... It gets tiring.” Something in his voice sounded tenderer as he whined at her, but that may have been because he wasn’t describing three ways to kill a man with a toothbrush and some sticky tack.

            “We keep the Warehouse. The lighting is good.” Suddenly it dawned on Pam why Angela’s desire to be in the warehouse had nothing to do with lighting. Before she could get properly disgusted, a muffled yelp was heard in the reception hall that sounded suspiciously like their Regional Manager.

At the sound of Michael’s desperate whoop, Pam and Jim heard scuffling and apologies from Dwight (including the words “safety officer” and “duty”) as he rushed Angela inside to see what was the matter.

            There was silence on the third story terrace as Jim raised his eyebrows at Pam, and she tried to look meek. Finally he said simply, “You knew. You knew and you didn’t tell.” He shook his head slowly to convey his disappointment, but the pleased smile on his face said otherwise.

            “There never seemed to be a good time?” he cocked his head to the side as if to say “That isn’t good enough, and you know it.”

            “Besides, it’s not like I walked in on them making out,” at this is grimaced, “on her desk after work. It’s just something that grew.”

            “Like a weed. Or depression.”

            “Ah, wit. I can see you’re no longer upset with me?” she gave him a look of mock-hope.

            “I guess, your very hard to resist when I have this much alcohol in me.” Again with the subtext, it was obviously contagious.

            “You don’t look drunk anymore.” She paused, wandering if she should mention earlier. “Not like on the dance floor.”

            “Well, you know what Kevin does to me Beesly.” He started to hum “Don’t Stand So Close To Me.” Of course he decided to dodge her gentle pry into the existence of his newfound kindness to her. With this much sidestepping, they were almost dancing, Pam thought.

            “I guess I misinterpreted your feelings for…” she trailed off, realizing that maybe they weren’t talking about Kevin any more.

            “Kevin.” He stated, reminding her of the status quo.

            Before she could say anything else, his phone jingled quietly. He gave her an apologetic look and extracted it from his pocket. Staring at the caller ID he said softly “Karen. Probably wondering where I am.”

            Aren’t we all, Pam thought. To avoid anymore awkwardness, she waved towards the door and said “I better get back in, don’t want to miss the bouquet toss.”

            “Would be a tragedy.” He said as he smiled and opened the phone.

            She took that as her cue, and stepped though the French doors back into the party. Breathing a complicated sigh, she found her seat next to Toby and his date and made small talk about the other wedding guests.

Some time later, after Jim had reentered the party and Toby was congratulating the bride and groom she glanced out a window and saw Roy walking to his car. About half way there, he looked up towards the building and gave a sorrowful look. Maybe I’m not the only one who expected something to happen tonight, Pam thought as she turned back to see the reception goers dwindling down to a few.