Jim’s alarm goes off but he’s already awake. He’d barely slept all night, going over things in his head, wondering what he could say to her today to put things back on track.

They had barely spoken at all Friday, after his hurtful swipe at her and her relationship with Roy. But it was true. He wouldn’t have forgotten her while she was in the bathroom at a hockey game. Of course, he wouldn’t have brought his brother. He wouldn’t leave her nearly every Friday to play poker and get drunk, and he wouldn’t always put the things she wants out of life second to his own. So many things he wouldn’t do, so many things he can’t do.

It’s frustrating. And things like dinner on a rooftop and listening to music so closely that he can smell her hair when the wind blows – these things blur the lines. Make him forget what he can do and can’t do…what he has the right to say and what he absolutely cannot say. He comes back to himself when she reminds him of where he stands in her life, what he represents. Friendship. And friends don’t go on dates.

He sits up and scrubs his hand over his face. Time for work.




He’s the last one to work because he dragged his feet all morning. His emotions are the normal bundle of nerves and anxiousness. Each morning he looks forward to seeing her, but everyday it’s becoming a little bit harder to hold back and bite his tongue. He laughs with her and makes jokes that layer over the things he really wants to tell her and quite frankly it’s becoming exhausting. His palms are sweaty as he steps out of the elevator and makes his way into the office.

She’s on the phone and she gives him a small smile when he walks in. It’s not the normal greeting, but he expected some lingering tension between them. He sits down and ignores Dwight’s speech about the importance of timeliness and it’s effect on the office. He checks his voicemail but he can’t concentrate because he is too busy wondering what his game plan is. After two unsuccessful IM attempts to put his thoughts into words, he throws caution to the wind and approaches her desk. Her head is bent down and for a minute she doesn’t seem to realize he’s there. He clears his throat and she looks up at him. She looks tired, a little weary, and he wonders, maybe even hopes, that the same things that keep him up at night keep her up too. He pushes that thought to the back of his mind and puts on a smile while looking down at her inquisitively.

“Morning. Does somebody have a case of the Mondays?”

She rolls her eyes, “You’ve said that almost every Monday since you’ve seen that movie. Doesn’t it get old?” Her tone is teasing and he feels something click into place…almost.

“Sorry. I promise I’ll retire that one for a while.”

“Promises, promises Jim.”

“Seriously, what’s wrong? You already look like you’re having a bad morning.”

“Oh yeah. Um…Michael has asked me to proof read three love letters to Jan so far this morning.” She holds up a stack of papers waving them back and forth, before tossing them back down on the desk in front of her, “Oh and Dwight nagged me for the entire fifteen minutes you were late, asking me if you were doing something to his car while I was in here keeping him occupied. So thanks for that.”

She shakes her head in mock annoyance, and he bites his lip, trying not to smile.

“Sorry about that. Woke up late.” It’s a lie, but the alternative answer, Sorry I was late Pam, I was laying in bed thinking about you, is probably not the best idea.

The silence stretches between them for a few seconds, some left over tension hanging in the air.

He leans a little closer, his voice dropping lower, “So, listen. About Friday…”

She looks confused for a minute but before he can piece together the rest of his apology she’s already waving him off, “Oh it’s fine. Don’t worry-“

She’s cut off by Michael’s voice booming through the intercom of her phone, “Paaaamm! Where is the latest draft of my letter? The one where I tell her the secret to my best magic tricks.”

Pam lets out a weary sigh before picking up the stack of letters and standing up. She looks back up to Jim, “Sorry, duty calls.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, if I’m not out in twenty minutes please rescue me.”

He nods, laughing, “Will do.”

“Thanks.”

He watches her walk into Michael’s office and shut the door.



The morning drags on per usual and Pam spends most of it shuffling back and forth between her desk and Michael’s office. Even though they joked around a little this morning things don’t seem normal between them and the near estrangement is killing him. He wants to make it right, and he knows that the only way to do it is to assure her that they’re only friends. He knows that the mere thought of them being more than that, or the thought that she could be crossing the lines she’s carefully drawn for them scares her and he needs to reassure her. He manages to time his lunch at the same time as hers, and he joins her in the break room to eat.

She looks up at him when he slides the chair out to sit, and nods when he motions to sit next to her, asking for her permission. They sit in silence for a minute before he clears his throat.

“So, listen. About Friday.”

“Jim, it’s totally cool. We’re good.”

“No, it’s not cool Pam. Can you just listen for a minute?”

She nods, and he takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that about Roy and the date thing or whatever. It was mean.”

“It’s okay. I was sort of mean too. I know you were just joking about the whole first date thing and I shouldn’t have gotten bent out of shape.”

The words are sharp and precise and it cuts him in just the right way, because he wasn’t joking about it being a date. It was the best date he’d been on in years. But he steels himself and manages an air of indifference before pressing on, “No, it’s cool. I just don’t want things to be weird or whatever, and I shouldn’t have said something so….careless.”

That last word drops off of his tongue, heavy and loaded and he knows he’s hit his mark when her head snaps up and their eyes meet for a brief second. She looks almost guilty and he knows that even though she may not mean to, she can be hurtful too. She knows that her words hurt him in the same way that his do her, and he’s not sure if he feels relief or frustration at this revelation. Maybe a little of both.

She shakes her head, almost imperceptibly, before recovering, “It’s fine. We’re totally fine, I promise.” She looks sincere and her eyes seem to beg him to move on, away from this subject and onto safer ground.

He nods, and smiles. He’s made his point, for now anyway, and so he moves forward.

“So, how are the love letters coming along?”

She groans, and lets out a laugh and he feels his nerves subside a bit as they slide easily back into the banter they’ve perfected so well over the years.

“Oh my god, it’s horrible. Oh and he had Dwight help him with draft number eight and you don’t even want to know what Dwight’s idea of a romantic evening is.”

“Pam, are you kidding? That’s the kind of information I would kill for.” She laughs, shaking her head, but he continues because he loves that sound, loves hearing her laugh, “Seriously, you have to tell me. Oh god there are so many possibilities. So, what – does it involve manure? Or beets? You have to tell me.”

She’s laughing and her shoulders are shaking as she tries to explain, “Okay, well let’s just say that it involves orange vests and deer urine. Oh and a bow and arrow.”

He’s laughing now, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all, “No, no you cannot be serious.”

They keep laughing, and he feels a spark of electricity when he feels her hand on his arm for a brief second as she gains her composure. It feels right, like things are fixed for now, but he wonders if this will ever feel like enough.