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Pam was sitting at her desk, watching the promos, specifically the clip where she and Jim were dancing in the parking lot to (what was then) new music on his iPod. That had been the night they had read Michael's motion picture script, Threat Level: Midnight. Then Jim had made her his famous grilled cheese sandwiches, which they had eaten by candlelight on the rooftop while watching Dwight's fireworks show. And then they had danced...

How she wanted to return to that night – no, she didn't want to go back, she couldn't go back. For among many other reasons, she had still been with Roy then. No, she only wanted to move forward in their relationship, to progress. She and Jim had shared so many moments like the ones in the promos. But as of late, they hadn't made so many new ones. She didn't want to have to play a video or play a memory in her mind in order to experience such a moment. Pictures and memories had important roles to play, but they only went so far. She wanted to start – re-start – the process of making new memories. But right now, all she really wanted, all she really needed, was to have Jim here, sitting next to her, watching the promos with her, sharing those moments with her for the second time. Her moist eyes shifted from his computer screen to Jim's empty chair.



Jim was in Philadelphia, with Ryan Howard (not that Ryan Howard – the baseball player), doing a table read of the latter's movie screenplay. After a rough start, Jim had finally loosened up and was now having some fun and was actually getting into the script. The script was bad, but it was so bad that it was good, and reading it took Jim's mind off his problems back in Scranton.

And then all of a sudden, it was 2005, and Jim was back in the conference room in Scranton, sitting next to Pam, and the entire office – minus Michael – was reading the screenplay of Threat Level: Midnight, which Pam had discovered in Michael's desk while searching for a joke. Ryan Howard's script was no Threat Level Midnight. It didn't even come close. It wasn't as well-written, it wasn't as funny, and it didn't have nearly as much heart. And now Jim had come full circle and was once again having a miserable time. How much longer was this script? He flipped through the remaining pages. This thing was like a novel. They weren't even halfway done.

Jim's mind started to drift back to that night in Scranton, but then he stopped himself. No. He couldn't live in the past.



Pam was re-watching the promos for the umpteenth time – well, certain clips. Suddenly she felt someone behind her, someone tall. She turned around to find Jim, standing there, towering over her.

"Jim," she said, rather breathlessly.

"Pam," he said in kind.

"What happened to your meeting?"

"I adjourned it – early – and permanently."

"Why? What's wrong? What do you have behind your back?"

"Nothing's wrong – anymore."

He pulled out two scripts of Threat Level: Midnight from behind his back, one in each hand.

"I've been saving my copy ever since our first date. When I went to the house to look for it, I found your copy as well. Now, we could just play our DVD copy of the movie that Michael burned for us. But I always prefer to go back to the source material. How do you feel about playing Catherine Zeta Jones to my Agent Michael Scarn? Just the two of us this time. And then some of my famous grilled cheese. And then some swaying to new music on my iPhone. And then...and then we'll do something we've never done before, something totally unexpected. I don't know what it will be. That act hasn't been written yet. I'll think of it by the time we finish the script. And it's going to kick your ass...Halpert. What do you say?"

"I'd love to," she said, making absolutely no effort to hide her tears. "And Jim: we were never swaying. We were always dancing. And we always will be."

Likewise making no effort to hide his tears, he transferred one of the scripts to the other hand, and then extended his empty hand, which she accepted, and then he led her into the conference room, dimmed the lights, and closed the door.

No one had ever had so much fun in that conference room.
Chapter End Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


johngaltstrikes is the author of 6 other stories.
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