The rest of the workday moved with the speed of the ice age, as Elizabeth the stripper and Ben Franklin milled around the office and Pam debated what she was going to do about Jim. In addition, Karen was shooting her odd looks while Jim maintained his distance, even when he asked her to fax some pages to corporate.

She couldn't believe that he managed not to look at her directly one single time as he approached, making his request as he stared at the papers in his hand. He even left them on the counter, as if handing them to her took too a great a risk of accidentally touching her. It was quite disheartening to Pam.

She began to rethink all of the assumptions she'd been making that day. Maybe she was wrong to think Jim hadn't changed. Maybe she was just seeing what she wanted so desperately to see, what House had encouraged her to see. Pam really wanted to just go home and forget about everything. And everybody.

The phone rang and she wearily picked it up. “Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam,” she said emotionlessly.

“Pam....Just the person I was looking for. You're not flaking out on me, are you?”

Pam would have recognized that voice anywhere. “What do you want, Dr. House?”

“We didn't finish our conversation. What are you going to try next?”

“I don't know.”

House scoffed. “Is that the only thing you know how to say?”

“I'm just – I don't know where to go from here.” She looked up to make sure no one was listening. “He hasn't even acknowledged me all afternoon.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“He's thinking. You've got him thinking.”

“If you say so.”

“Don't waste today, Pam,” House said with a sudden seriousness. “Try something else.”

Pam saw Angela approaching. “I've got to go.” She hung the phone up before he could say another thing.

It was after three when Pam started to worry there was not going to be a chance to talk to Jim. Pam took frequent breaks to walk to the kitchen, the bathroom, and the vending machine – each time hoping she'd catch him at some point. But except for his fax request earlier, he didn't move from his desk. Not that she had the tiniest clue as to what she would have said to him, but the first hurdle was getting a moment alone with him.

At quarter to four she noticed Karen walk over to his desk, leaning up against it like Pam remembered she used to be able to do.

“So, Halpert, where are you treating me tonight? Feel like trying that Thai place we drove past last weekend?”

Pam kept her eyes glued to her monitor. She felt sure this conversation was being initiated largely for her benefit, so she was determined not to give Karen the satisfaction of seeing she was listening. Not that it stopped her from straining to hear Jim's reply.

“I – ah, I really didn't have any plans,” he finally replied.

“Oh.” Karen seemed nonplussed. “Well, why don't you just come over and we can hang out at my place? We could order in and open that bottle of Pinot Noir you bought the other day.”

“Can I take a rain check?” Out of the corner of her eye Pam could see Jim lean back in his chair and run one hand through his hair. “I still have a headache from the warehouse adventure earlier and I was hoping for an early night.”

Karen didn't reply immediately, but Pam heard her push away from where she was resting on Jim's desk. “Sure,” she finally said, her tone tight and clipped. “Whatever.” By the time Pam ventured a glance across the room, Karen was already back at her desk, her head bowed low over a supply catalogue.

Pam couldn't help feeling a very slight pang of guilt when she realized that if Jim wasn't going to be going out with Karen tonight, then perhaps it was her window to approach him. But how? And under what pretense? She knew she'd never be able to talk to him with Karen nearby, so Pam relied on the false courage of email.

To: j.halpert@dundermifflin.com

From: p.beesly@dundermifflin.com

Jim,

I know this is going to seem out of the blue, but I was wondering if perhaps you and I could meet up tonight after work.

Thanks,

Pam

She hit send before she had a chance to think about it too much.

It was twenty agonizing minutes later before he replied, though she knew he'd read it as soon as it arrived as she could see it on his screen. She didn't know if his delay in responding was a good sign or bad. His reply was three words long.

To: p.beesly@dundermifflin.com

From: j.halpert@dundermifflin.com

For what reason?

Dammit, of course he had to be difficult, she frowned. Her reply was nearly as short.

To: j.halpert@dundermifflin.com

From: p.beesly@dundermifflin.com

I wanted to talk to you.

This time his reply was practically immediate.

To: p.beesly@dundermifflin.com

From: j.halpert@dundermifflin.com

About what?

Pam sighed to herself. Did she take the risk and lay her cards out in an email? It might be easier to be rejected that way, she thought, but knew that House certainly would not approve. That notwithstanding, however, she also knew he deserved more than that. As did she. So she spent a moment thinking on how best to word her reply. She didn't want to tip her hand, but needed him to know she wasn't asking him to meet for some frivolous reason.

To: j.halpert@dundermifflin.com

From: p.beesly@dundermifflin.com

Jim,

I really need your opinion on something I'd rather not go into via email. I know it probably surprises you, but I figured you would be the best person to talk to.

Pam

It was a true enough statement. Certainly no one needed to hear what she had to say more than he did, and his response was the only one that really mattered. At four-thirty he replied.

To: p.beesly@dundermifflin.com

From: j.halpert@dundermifflin.com

Pam,

Okay, but can we just talk here? I have plans later tonight.

Jim

It was less than what she'd hoped he'd say, but at least it was something. At least he'd agreed to meet with her. Maybe it was better they talk here, anyway.

Of course the last half-hour of the day ticked by slower than ever. She silently willed Karen to be the first to leave, but she was naturally one of the last, grabbing her coat and walking out at five-fifteen.

And then it was just her and Jim.