He’d tried to get out of it, had told Michael he had a headache (true), that his brother was coming in for the weekend (true, just not until the following day), that he really, really needed to just skip this – which was perhaps the most accurate truth of all.

“Jim – I just – come on.” Michael had immediately overreacted, looking up at Jim earnestly as Jim leaned with his back against the wall in Michael’s office.  “You’re like, the most important person who should be there!”

“How do you figure that?” Jim asked, his hand passing over his eyes wearily.

“Because, you went up there and you conquered their branch!” Michael grinned proudly at him.

“Michael – that’s not….” He shook his head, giving up. They’d had this conversation already, and he knew that both Toby and Jan had also tried to get Michael to see that the merging of the Stamford and Scranton branches was not a sign of triumph or defeat.

But Michael seemed incapable of seeing it any other way.  Then again, it was an excuse for a mandatory office celebration, which Michael had announced several weeks after the merger, telling them all that they’d be going as a group to Poor Richard’s immediately after work on Friday night. 

He’d felt Pam’s eyes on his face at the announcement, and he steadfastly ignored her.  It was easier sometimes to just pretend he didn’t see the looks she gave him.  Because some of them were so….exactly the same as they’d been the year before, only so much had changed now.

She was free now, and she knew how he felt. 

And yet she’d done absolutely nothing, said absolutely nothing – just behaved toward him exactly the way she had before he’d ever transferred.

It was maddening.

He’d almost thrown up on his first day back at the Scranton branch, gripping his steering wheel until his knuckles went white as he tried to prepare himself for the blow that seeing her face again would surely be. 

Six months it had been since he’d let go of her hands.

He’d been doing all right, had begun – finally – to move on in Stamford.  He and Karen had actually gone out once; he’d kissed her when he dropped her off at her apartment, finding it reassuring how immediately he responded to the feel of her lips on his, her fingers light against his face.

The following Monday, Josh had called them into the conference room and had made the announcement that Jim felt immediately in the pit of his stomach.  His head had jerked up, eyes wide, mouth open slightly. 

Andy had laughed, pointed, said, “So Big Tuna, looks like we’ll be swimmin’ in your pond from now on!”

He’d stumbled in his haste to shove his chair back from the table, seeing Karen’s surprised expression in his peripheral vision, knowing that everyone was staring at him.

“Excuse me.” He managed, then bolted for the door because he knew he was going to throw up. 

He would’ve laughed if the situation hadn’t been so fucking ironic – imagine being able to tell the story that my reaction to the news that I’m being transferred back to Scranton was to puke my guts out. 

It was the sort of thing he would have told Pam once upon a time, which made it that much worse.

Karen had watched him closely all day; he’d felt like a coward, not turning around, so incredibly grateful that she sat behind him instead of across from him or in front of him.  It was over with her; he knew it, knew that it didn’t matter how damned beautiful she was, how quirky and surprising, how good a kisser.

She was coming back to Scranton with him, and he couldn’t even stand the idea of it. 

She’d lingered after work, waiting for him.  He was disappointed, because he’d secretly hoped she’d just leave him alone so he could do the easy thing and send her an email later.

Jesus, I’m a fucking coward. He thought.

And then he chuckled bitterly, remembering the bravado he’d mustered to look her in the eye and say, “I’m in love with you.” To go back a second time, even after she’d rejected him, and just walk up to her, pull her to him, press his lips on hers.

“Jim….?”

He turned to find Karen looking at him quizzically, her head tilted slightly.  He hadn’t realized that he’d been standing there stock still beside his desk with his head bowed.

“Are you okay?” She asked. “You look a little….I don’t know, shaken, maybe.”

“Yeah, well….” He smiled, no idea what to say to that. 

When a long, awkward silence fell, she smiled, asking, “Is the Scranton branch really that bad?”

He had to chuckle at what she’d asked, eyes warm as he looked at her.  She was a good girl, really, a kind person. 

“Listen, Karen….” He began, his eyes lowering to the floor.

“Wow.” She said suddenly, prompting him to raise his head in surprise.

“What?” He asked, confused.

Her smile was dry, wintry. “You’re giving me the whole morning after brush off, and we didn’t even sleep together.”

All he could do was blink at her, taken completely off guard.  And then she’d given him a more genuine smile, reaching out to lightly touch his arm as she said, “Hey….I’m kidding; it’s okay.”

“Oh.” He breathed a sigh of relief, while she tilted her head, looking at him searchingly.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s okay.” She said softly. “I can see that this….isn’t happening, and that’s really…. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

He felt a stab of guilt.

“Karen, no, it’s just….” He shook his head. 

God damn it, when am I going to get past this?

“It has nothing to do with you.” He said, prompting her to laugh softly, shaking her head at him.  “It really isn’t you.”

“I swear to god, Halpert, if you bust out one more break-up cliché, I’m going to smack you.” She was smiling at him, watching as a slow grin spread across his cheeks.

I’m a fucking idiot.  This girl is amazing; there is no good reason why I shouldn’t take this forward with her.

 ….Because it’ll end badly, and you know it.  And then you’d have to work with her every day, too.  One’s going to be bad enough.  

“I really wish….” He took a deep breath. “I really wish I could get into it with you, but I just…I can’t talk about it.  I’m just not – “

He couldn’t finish.

Her eyes softened, her voice gentle as she said, “I get it.  There’s someone in Scranton that you were running away from.  Now you have to go back and face her.”

He jerked his head up to stare at her, stunned at what she’d said.  Her arms were folded across her chest, her lips pulled back as she looked at him sympathetically.

“Something like that.” He said, then forced a chuckle.

She nodded, and another silence fell. 

“I’m really sorry, Karen.” And he meant it, too. 

--------------

It had become clear to her fairly quickly that if she wanted to interact with Jim beyond a simple, “Good morning,” she’d have to be the one to take the first step toward him. 

Because while he’d been friendly enough, his eyes had fled from hers, and he’d been careful to limit his contact with her.  It cut her to the core to see the shadows in his eyes, to realize that what he was doing was purely a protective instinct; there was no malice or bitterness that she detected from him, just a deep, profound disillusionment.

And wariness.

It was the wariness in his eyes that kept her from saying what she really wanted to say: I made a mistake; yes, I want you.  Yes, I’m in love with you.

Instead, she’d made her way to his desk on his fourth day back, standing next to it and smiling down at him shyly.

He glanced up at her, asking, “What’s up?” just as he had so many times in the past.

Only this time, his eyes didn’t linger on her; he turned his gaze immediately back to his monitor.

“Would you be up for a little time on the roof after work?” She asked, wondering if he could hear the tremor in her voice.

His jaw tensed, and he blinked a little more quickly than usual, avoiding her eyes as he said, “I um….it’s….”

“Please?” She whispered, prompting Jim to cast a nervous glance at Dwight, who was meticulously swabbing in his keyboard with a Q-tip, repeatedly dipping it in rubbing alcohol.

“Pam, really….” He swallowed hard, still not looking at her.

“Can you just look at me?” She whispered, feeling tears threatening, her throat aching.

He flicked his eyes to hers, and when he saw the expression on his face, he looked away again immediately, his hand clenching absently over his mouse.

“Okay.” He finally said, his voice husky, eyes on his monitor.

“Thank you.” She said softly, her pride aching as she walked back to her desk. 

---------

He tried to keep his hands from shaking slightly as he sat in the chair next to her, legs sprawled out in front of him, his head tilted to the sky just to avoid looking at her.  He had no idea what this was about, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know. 

She was desperate to recapture their old dynamic – that much was obvious – but he wasn’t sure he could handle that. 

He was, however, absolutely certain that he didn’t want to talk about Casino Night – not now, not after all this time.  Because he didn’t think he could handle hearing her re-iterate to him that all he was to her was a good friend.

He didn’t know anymore what the hell was going on in her head.  Once upon a time, he’d been so sure that she felt it, too – sure enough to lay it all on the line in such a way that they couldn’t possibly have taken steps backward.  He’d done it that way on purpose, had trapped himself into a position in which he’d be forced to move on if she couldn’t face it. 

Wouldn’t face it.

Even when he’d let go of her hands that night, he’d still believed that she felt it, too – if anything, he had been more convinced than ever.  She’d just….let go for those few amazing moments in his arms; she’d admitted that she’d wanted to kiss him for so long.

He’d walked away from her believing that she’d marry Roy, that she just wasn’t strong enough to break away from almost ten years of stability, sameness, no matter how much she might want more with him. 

But then he’d gotten the email from Phyllis telling him that she hadn’t married Roy, and he’d waited, waited, waited for her to contact him – thinking surely he’d get a phone call or an email….something.

He’d been elated for the first two weeks after he’d found out she’d called it off, because he just knew she’d reach out to him now. 

And then there was nothing, just the deafening silence, penetrated only by that phone call he’d overheard.

“Have fun on your date.”

And those were the words that made him realize he’d been terribly, terribly wrong.

---------

“Look, Jim….” She was staring at him, her eyes scanning his familiar profile. He’d loosened his tie a little, and there was the faintest five o’clock shadow darkening his face.

Strange that ever since he’d been back, all traces of the boy she’d met almost four years earlier had just vanished.  In their place was a man – a man who had looked her in the eye and told her he was in love with her; a man who had pulled her to him in one graceful motion, his lips on hers before she could even think. 

….A man whom she’d devastated – who wasn’t hers anymore.

“I just wanted to….clear the air, I guess.” She said, eyes wide as she willed him to look at her.  He didn’t; instead, his gaze fell to his hands, which were linked loosely in his lap.

“It’s okay.” He shook his head, glancing over at her, but only for a second.  “There’s no….clearing of the air to be done; it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.” She said. “I mean…since you’ve been back, we’ve hardly talked.”

“Pam….” He sighed wearily, wishing he knew what to say.  Wishing that damned ache would just leave him in peace.

“And I don’t want it to be this way.” She was trying hard not to cry because he still wouldn’t look at her. “I want us to be the way that we used to be.”

That made him turn to look at her.  She wasn’t sure why she’d said it, because it wasn’t really what she wanted – she wanted to be so much more than that.

“We can’t do that.” He said simply, adding, “I mean – we can try, but it’s just….”

“Jim, I want to talk about that night.” Her voice was trembling, low.

“No.” The word was low, hoarse. “No, we don’t have to.”

“But I want – “

“No.” He looked across at her, his eyes a brilliant green.  “Seriously, Pam – don’t….that was six months ago; a lot has changed.”

“Has it?” She whispered.

“Obviously.” He answered, but she could see his jaw trembling slightly….suspected that he’d forced himself to say it.

“Jim, seriously, I – “

“Pam, please.  Please just stop.” He looked slightly desperate now. “It’s okay – we’ll be friends; we’ll…try, and after a while, things will get back to normal.  It’s just going to probably take a little while.  But….”

He shrugged. “We’ll get there.”

“Will we?” She asked quietly, aching because she knew he was alluding to their becoming friends again, nothing more. 

She found herself wishing she had his kind of courage – the bravery to just look him in the eye right now and tell him how she felt, just risk it.

But she didn’t dare, because she suspected he wasn’t open to that anymore – and might well blow up at her, get angry at her for putting him through so much hell only to change her mind in the end.

He sounded so weary when he answered, “We’ll try, Pam; we’ll try.”

He stood then, turning slowly and walking away, leaving her sitting up there by herself, her head bowed. 

---------

They’d gradually taken baby steps back to some semblance of their old dynamic, but it was as if they’d run the relationship through a sieve, filtering out the emotional closeness, keeping only the lighter, surface-level side of things

Two weeks after their talk, they’d played their first post-merger prank on Dwight.  They starting eating lunch together again in the conference room, but kept the conversation light.  He could’ve sworn he felt her eyes on him all the time when he wasn’t looking, but he didn’t let himself consider it further.  Because it didn’t matter anymore; if she did feel something for him, clearly it wasn’t enough to merit her taking a chance.

And the very thought of being her fallback guy – her consolation prize when things didn’t work out for her – made him feel dangerously angry. 

That was precisely why he had tried to get out of the whole Poor Richard’s celebration, because it seemed to have bad idea written all over it.  He didn’t want to see her outside the office, didn’t want to be around her when either of them was drinking.  He understood his limits very well now, and something in him told him he’d be crossing into the danger zone if he spent any time with her outside of work, regardless of how many other people were involved.

---------

She’d taken such pains to get ready that night, had worn the red shirt she’d ordered online with a pair of faded jeans that hugged her curves.  The shirt was cut lower than the ones she usually wore, but she was actually glad about that when she considered what Jim’s reaction to it might be.  She’d changed in the bathroom after work, pulling her coat tightly around her when she walked out, just in case he was still at his desk.

She had visions of him helping her off with her coat at Poor Richard’s, seeing the blouse, and maybe getting the same expression on his face that Roy had gotten. 

He had still been at his desk when she came out, the skirt and top she’d worn to work in a plastic bag in her hand.  She saw him start in surprise at the fact that she had changed and was now wearing jeans, but his eyes didn’t linger for very long.

“So hey, do you want to ride together?” She asked, trying to sound light.

“Nah, I’d better just drive myself.” He answered, still avoiding her eyes. “Jonathan’s coming tomorrow morning, so I’ll probably duck out early tonight.”

“Jonathan’s coming?” She was thrilled. “Oh my god, Jim, I haven’t seen him in so long!”

He bowed his head for a second, forcing a stiff smile. “Yeah, I guess it has been a while, hasn’t it?”

He stood then, slinging his messenger’s bag over his shoulder, then saying casually, “Hey, if you want me to follow you to Poor Richard’s, I can do that.”

She was crestfallen. 

He’s not even going to make an effort to let me hang out with him and Jonathan? He knows how much I like Jonathan – why won’t he just invite me over for a drink with them?  

And then she realized: Why should he? 

---------

He’d had to work not to stare when she came out of the bathroom wearing a pair of well-fitting, faded jeans, her pink coat pulled tightly around her, only bare skin where the neckline was – no collar, no fabric.  He found himself wishing she’d keep her coat on all night, for his sake.

Her reaction to the news that Jon would be in town had also managed to sting him slightly – maybe because how well she’d gotten along with his brother had seemed just one more reason they seemed so right together.  Or maybe it was because she’d told him once in a drunken moment that she felt a connection with Jonathan because he reminded her of him.

They’d been at a cheap Mexican restaurant, having gone with a few others from work.  Jonathan had been in town then, and it was the first time she’d ever met him.  They’d had plenty of margaritas, enough for her to get that telltale flush on her cheeks, her laughter coming a little quicker and louder, her eyes lingering on Jim in a way she didn’t allow them to when she was sober.

Jonathan had gotten up to go to the restroom, and Pam had leaned heavily on the table, chin on her hand as she smiled at Jim.

He’d been enchanted by her, disarmed at the flirty, giggling spectacle she was when she was drunk.

And then she’d suddenly said, tongue tangling over the words, “Jesus, Jim, your brother is just so amazing.  And he’s so fucking hot.”

He’d drawn back in surprise, not sure how to react to that. 

“Whoa….” It had slipped out before he could stop it.

She’d giggled then, reaching across the table to rest her small hand over his large one, sending a shock through him.

“That’s a compliment, Jim.” She informed him, shaking her head and leaning back to look at him as though he were being ridiculous.

“Yes it is.” He said. “Too bad he’s not at the table right now to hear it.”

“Noooo, no, no, no.” She shook her head emphatically as he watched in amusement. “I meant it was a compliment to you.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows rose. “How so?”

“Because.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “You guys are so much alike – same wavy hair, same hazel eyes, same full lips….same sense of humor with that hint of mischief, but underneath it all a totally…gentlemanly manner.”

“Oh?” He repeated, unable to say anything else.

“Yeah.” He could see she was struggling to focus on his face and made a mental note to order some water for her when the waitress came back.

She jolted him right out of that thought when she said matter-of-factly, “Jonathan’s pretty fucking hot, but it’s really….all you.  You’re way hotter.”

Again his eyebrows were up, his eyes wide, mouth opening slightly.

“Oh?” It was the third time he’d said it, but he was quite literally speechless.

She giggled. “That’s all you’ve said for, like, the last half hour.”

“Okay guys.” Jonathan suddenly appeared, sliding into the booth next to Jim. “What did I miss? Anything good?”