Pam knew everyone else had left – she had meticulously placed a small 'x' next to each name on her phone sheet as they passed her desk on their way out. Still, she hesitated. She wondered if Jim would be the one to make the first move, but of course he wasn't. He sat at his desk, his eyes glued to a web page that Pam thought was either ESPN or Sports Illustrated. His only movement was the constant bobbing of his right knee tapping out a rhythm Pam couldn't hear.

She still had no idea what to say, and swallowed back the rising wave of fear that said she was about to make a horrible mistake. She almost wished House were there to feed lines in her ear, even if most of them would center – she was sure – on calling Jim an idiot. At the thought of that she couldn't help but smile a bit, and told herself to pull it together. For better or worse, things would be settled tonight.

She walked over to his desk, and cleared her throat to get his attention.

“Oh, hey,” he said, his head jerking up. “I almost forgot. Give me just a minute, okay?”

“Sure,” she said softly. “I'll be in the conference room.”

She didn't buy his excuse for a minute, seeing as he was still staring at the same web page he'd had up ten minutes ago. But as she watched him get up from his desk and walk in the direction of the kitchen, she felt the slightest sliver of confidence. Maybe – just maybe – he was as afraid of talking to her as she's been of talking to him.

“Really? You think?”

Pam looked up to see House leaning in the conference room doorway.

“Why are you here?”

“You think I'm going to miss the big show? After all you've put me through?”

“House, no.”

“Why not?” He walked in and sat down in a chair at the far end of the conference table. “This is going to make the Ali-Frazier matches look like tea parties.” He turned his chair sideways and propped both feet up on the table.

“You can't be here,” Pam said, walking over to him. “And thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Hey, you're Ali, Beesly. I do have faith in you. Besides, I thought you wanted me around for moral support and occasional one-liners.”

“Get out of my head,” Pam grumbled. “I wasn't serious.”

“Serious about what?”

Pam spun around to find Jim now standing in the doorway. “Nothing,” she replied quickly. “Nothing – I'm just talking to myself.” She looked back to see with relief that House was gone.

Jim took a tentative step in. “Is that what you needed my opinion on? Because basically I think talking to yourself is normal unless, you know, you keep getting into arguments with yourself and losing. Then you might want to seek help.”

Pam smiled in spite of herself. It was so very Jim to try and break the tension with silliness. To be honest, she really missed that. There was so much she missed about being around him.

“No,” she half-laughed, “I've got that one sorted out, but thanks.” She pointed to a chair at the table. “Have a seat?”

He nodded and took the chair she'd indicated. It was the one at the opposite end of the table where House had sat. Pam thought perhaps it was too near the door, but she realized the odds of him making a bolt for it were slim, no matter how much he might want to. She was much too wound up to sit, and leaned instead against the metal frame of the glass wall that overlooked the main office area. She let out a deep sigh before she even realized she had.

“That bad, huh?” Jim mused. Their eyes met for just an instant, only to both look away. Despite his attempts at humor, the tension in the room was palpable.

“I don't even know where to start,” Pam said, almost more to herself than to him.

“What's wrong?” For a moment he sounded like the old Jim – his concern for her obvious and unguarded. It had the unfortunate effect of making Pam feel like crying. But she knew tears wouldn't do. Not right now. So she took another deep breath.

“What's wrong is that there are things I have needed to say for a very long time, and I've been too much of a coward to do it.”

She glanced up at him, and found he'd returned to his look of detachment. “I'm sure there's nothing that needs to be rehashed at this point,” he replied carefully, keeping his gaze on his hands that were spread out on the table top in front of him.

“Then you would be wrong.” Her assured tone surprised both of them, and Pam felt a rush of adrenaline hit as he stared up at her.

“There are so many things I have done wrong over the last year or so,” she continued, “but the thing I regret more than anything was telling you your interest in me wasn't returned, that you'd misinterpreted things. You hadn't misinterpreted anything.”

Jim continued to stare at her, almost unblinkingly so, but his expression revealed nothing.

“And I know I should have called you, that I should have done so many things I didn't do, but it's too late for that now. All I can do is say how sorry I am and how much I miss you and that if it's not too late, I'm in love with you, too.”

She was aware that she was speaking very fast, but she couldn't help it. She was nervous, and the fact that he had no discernible reaction to her words was not helping.

“I mean,” she stumbled, “even if it's too late, it doesn't change the fact I love you. I have for a long time now.”

Jim stood up, and for one crazy second she thought that he was going to kiss her. Instead he put his hands into his pockets, his gaze focused solely on the carpet.

“Um, I'm with Karen now.”

He said it with all the emotion of someone refusing a magazine subscription offer from a telemarketer over the phone. Pam couldn't believe how unaffected he seemed.

“I know,” Pam replied stiffly, “Trust me, she made that clear enough today.”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Pam hadn't intended on telling him about that; the reference had just slipped out. But given the way their conversation was going by this point, it hardly seemed to matter. “She told me how you and her and talked about the time you and I kissed, and that it didn't mean anything so she was fine with it.”

She paused and crossed her arms over her chest. “Which, you know, it was good to know she was fine with it.” She couldn't stop the edge of anger from slipping into her voice. “I'd hate for her to not have been fine with it.”

Jim frowned. “She shouldn't have said anything to you.”

Pam laughed bitterly. “That's your response?”

“What do you want me to say?” Jim's voice sounded more strained than usual.

“I guess there's nothing to say,” Pam retorted, turning away from him. She absolutely was not going to cry. She wanted to walk out of the conference room, but he was standing between her and the door.

She turned back to face him. “Well, I guess that's it then. I'm sorry I bothered you.”

She started to walk past him, but Jim stepped in her way. “So that's it?” He sounded seriously pissed off. “Nothing all this time but now that it's apparently become convenient for you to confess your feelings I'm supposed to just drop everything and be grateful?”

“No,” Pam sputtered, truly surprised at his outrage.

“But that's what you expected, isn't it, Pam?”

“I didn't expect anything,” she snapped back, “except maybe a little courtesy. But I guess I should be used to your rudeness by now. I must have been insane to hope that if you loved me as much as you claimed you did that it wouldn't have disappeared in all of three months.”

“Three months?” Jim sounded confused. “It's been eight months since you turned me down.”

“Yes, but it only took three to find a replacement, didn't it?”

“At least she wanted to be with me.”

“I did too – but you ran away before I could get to that point.”

They glared at each other. Pam knew she had hurt him terribly, but she hadn't really believed he would still be this angry. Her admission of being in love with him didn't seem to make any impression at all.

She wanted him to say something – anything – but he remained silent, looking everywhere but at her. She knew then that despite what she so desperately wanted, things were unfixable between them. Maybe if she'd said something earlier – but now he wasn't even listening. There was no second chance.

“Well, that's all I had to say.” Her voice sounded distant and tired and she didn't even care to hide it. “I'm sorry I kept you here late.”

She walked out of the conference room, gathered her purse and put on her coat. As she turned to walk out she looked back and saw Jim still standing in the same spot she'd left him, his back toward her and his head slightly bowed. There was nothing more she could say or do.

She expected House to be waiting for her when she came home, but he was nowhere to be found as she walked into her apartment. She noticed the writing on her wall had disappeared, and wondered if maybe he was gone for good – if he'd ever really been there at all.

She was hungry but couldn't bear to eat. She wanted to cry but feared she'd never stop if she did. She listlessly walked to her bedroom, determined to never leave her bed again. She was more than a bit annoyed to find him sitting on her bed.

“What do you want now?” She took off her cardigan and threw it toward a corner of her room. She didn't even care if he watched her undress. She just wanted to be left alone.

“It's not over, you know,” House began.

Pam put up her hand. “You want to know what I know? I know I don't want to hear it right now. I'm tired and I'm done. Now leave me alone.”

“He didn't technically turn you down.”

“Just stop it,” Pam practically shouted. “I get it – why don't you? He's moved on. You know sometimes patients die, House. Even your patients. Chalk this one up as a loss and move along.”

House shrugged, clearly unconvinced. “If that's what you want....”

“It is.” She turned away to put her jewelry on top of her dresser.

“Okay then.”

Pam turned back to say something else but stopped.

House was gone.