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There were very few things Jim Halpert liked about Stamford.

The view was okay, he guessed, but he liked his view in Scranton better. Pam was infinitely more beautiful than any body of water.

The people were nice, he supposed, but they mostly kept to themselves and apart from Andy, they were shockingly normal.

Karen was nice, he thought, but he preferred curly hair to straight and pale skin and freckles to Karen's olive tones.

His car was nicer here, and his apartment was smaller.

So when Josh announced he would be taking Jim to the annual paper supply convention, Jim was happy that he was just getting out of Stamford where nothing reminded him of her, and in a way he thought that was worse than everything reminding him of her. When Josh said it would be in Las Vegas that year, Jim was excited because if any city could distract him from his constant thoughts of Pam, it had to be Vegas.

Jim knew that Michael was going to be there, he had emailed Jim about fifty times in the past few days with various questions ranging from trying to color coordinate outfits with Michael to questions about Jan and everything in between. Jim wanted to somehow slip in a question about Pam, how she was doing, what she was doing, but he would delete the words as soon as he had written them down. Michael offered nothing on his own, unable to stop from only talking about himself for the better part of the emails.

On the plane, Jim put his headphones in and skipped past any song that reminded him of Pam. Which was only, oh, pretty much all of them. He finally gave that up, and tried to watch the movie, but it was something terrible and he couldn't help but think that if Pam had been there they would have had a great time mocking it endlessly.

He had been doing that since he had left Scranton, shoving Pam into places she didn't belong. He would look to the reception desk and see Pam sitting there instead of the middle aged woman with four kids. He would find himself looking for her mixed berry yogurt in the fridge before remembering that it was back in the fridge in Scranton, where she was.

He kept reminding himself that he was going to Vegas, and he didn't have to think about Pam, there were plenty of lights and noises and people to take his mind off of her.

It was a great plan, actually, a really, really great plan. He would have a great few days, and yes, he would have to return to his lonely apartment in Stamford, but for a few blissful days, he didn't have to think about Pam Beesly once.

When they arrived at the hotel, Jim heard his name and turned to see Michael hurrying towards him.

"Jimbo! My main man! Fat Halpert!" Michael threw his arms around him and Jim only had a second to register that there were two people following in Michael's wake.

He swore that his heart actually stopped beating for a minute, and he swallowed painfully as Dwight pushed past him to introduce himself to Josh.

And then there she was. Beautiful as always, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and tugging at her earring nervously.

"Hi Jim," Pam said softly.

Jim lay on his bed in the hotel and wondered what he had done to so thoroughly piss off the universe.

Pam had come with Michael and Dwight. Pam. Of all people.

"Pam," Jim had managed to choke out.

"Oh right, I insisted that Pam come with me and take notes on the convention," Michael said. "Be my personal assistant like all the stars have." Jim's mind was racing and he was aware that his hands were shaking a little bit. Pam wasn't saying anything, she kept wringing her hands and looking like she would have rather been almost anywhere else at that moment.

"I'm Josh," Josh extended his hand to Pam and she took it.

"Pam," she said.

"Well, Pam, it's always nice to have the company of a beautiful woman," Josh said, and he gave her a wink and a once over and Jim had to look away because the urge to punch him was so overwhelming. Josh was fucking hitting on Pam. Pam. Of all people.

For her part, Pam had blushed and was studying her nails like they were the most interesting thing in the entire world.

"We should get our rooms and get settled," Josh said, still totally unaware of the tension between Pam and Jim. "Again, Pam, it was nice to meet you." She mumbled something, and Josh had winked again, what was with him and winking?

And they had gone off in different directions, Jim having to force himself from watching her go.

And now Jim was sprawled out on the bed of his hotel room, Josh in their shared bathroom getting ready for the meetings. He had tried to start a conversation, but when Jim heard his opening lines,

"So that Pam is cute," he had cut Josh off and hadn't really said another word since.

And Jim was trying to recall where in his life he had done something to deserve this.

Pam knew that Jim was going to be there.

At first she had argued with Michael, but arguing with Michael was almost always an exercise in futility, so she decided to go with it.

And then she got excited to see him. She hadn't seen him in months, not since he took off after his failed confession.

It wasn't even a failure, and she wanted to tell him that. She wanted to see him in person and tell him all the things she couldn't in an email or over the phone. How she went home that night with Roy and called the whole thing off, how she wanted to tell him but he wasn't answering his phone and when she got to work that next Monday his desk was packed up and he was gone. She wouldn't tell him how she cried for weeks, how she was more upset by his leaving than she was about calling off her wedding.

She wasn't sure how she had imagined seeing Jim again, but his ashen face and his Stamford boss hitting on her wasn't what she had in mind.

The nice part of the whole trip was that she didn't have to share a room. She had a single with a queen and she dropped her suitcase off and freshened up in the bathroom telling herself that her wanting to look nice had nothing to do with Jim.

Absolutely nothing at all.

He knew that she was in the room before he actually spotted her. And then he looked up to see her floating across the room, looking effortlessly beautiful in a black cocktail dress, her hair down and soft curls landing on her shoulders. She was carrying one of those tiny purses that Jim could never understand and she looked around the room and he hoped against himself that she was looking for him.

He had no idea what he would say if she spotted him. If she came over to talk to him and they were finally alone. Instead he ordered another drink from the bartender and drank it quickly.

Pam did spot him, leaning against the bar and she grabbed a glass of wine from the passing tray and drained it almost on the spot. Grabbing another, she made her way over to where Jim was standing, a thousand things dancing on her tongue.

"Hi," she said when she finally approached him.

"Oh, hi," Jim answered.

"So, how are you?" She asked.

"Good."

"Good." She quickly ordered a Long Island iced tea and there was silence as the bartender went to make it.

"You?" Jim asked. He could do this. He could have a polite conversation with her.

"Oh, uh, okay?" Her voice went up at the end and Jim raised an eyebrow at her.

"Okay?"

"Uh, it hasn't been the greatest summer," she finally confessed with a slight shrug. "Everyone's kind of mad at me." She looked away, and Jim felt guilty, and then felt angry for feeling guilty, and then felt stupid for feeling angry about feeling guilty and he wondered how she could do this to him, still, make him into a big pile of emotional mess.

"I'm sorry," he said. She started to wave his apology off, and then thought better of it and simply nodded. She hurried and ordered another drink.

"Don't you think you should slow down?" Jim asked. Pam raised an eyebrow and took another drink.

"I think I should definitely not slow down," Pam answered. "Open bar, right? Better get your money's worth. Besides we're in Vegas, we should be going crazy. Isn't that what you do in Vegas? Go crazy?"

"Yeah, that or elope," Jim said.

"Elope," Pam repeated. "That's true. I'm starting to think that's the better route. No planning elaborate weddings which are just going to end up causing more trouble than they're worth, especially when you're planning it with a man who you aren't sure you even love in the first place." Her eyes got wide, and she knew that she had stumbled into territory that they were not discussing. And suddenly Jim noticed that it was very warm and he had had more drinks than he first thought, and Pam had her hand over her mouth, and she looked so adorable that for a second he forgot that he was angry with her, or that they weren't talking and that she had rejected him and broke him into a million pieces.

"You're right, we should go crazy. Except we're at a paper supply convention, so really, what's the craziest thing that can happen?" Jim asked, and he should have known those were famous last words, that saying something like that is like tempting fate.

And it was the next morning that those words came rushing back to him, as he woke up with his mouth dry as cotton and his head pounding from too many shots that he and Pam started doing, and he remembered those words with a rueful smile. What's the craziest thing that can happen? Apparently it was forgetting that he was supposed to be trying to let go of Pam, but had ended up spending a good part of the evening drinking and laughing and having a great time with her. And what exactly did that mean?

And Jim reached for the bottle of water that was on the nightstand when he saw the silver ring that fit snugly on his left hand, and he was suddenly aware that he wasn't alone in his bed, and he turned and found himself face to face with Pam.

Who was also wearing a shiny new silver band on her left hand.