“Listen up, everybody… I have some news. We are screwed. Dunder-Mifflin, Scranton is being shut down.” Michael did have a way with words, Jim had to admit. He’d quieted everyone in the office with just three sentences.

Well, almost everyone. Toby was of course telling Michael that he shouldn’t be announcing that, which to Jim suggested that things were maybe less final than Michael thought? Or at least less finalized. Jim himself had had an inkling about this from Pam, who said Jan had seemed “more somber and willing to put up with Michael’s bullshit” this morning—and then, even more worrying, that Michael had seemed actively down after they had spoken. Given Michael’s preternatural ability to turn every conversation with Jan into a positive, that meant something bad was coming down the pike. But he hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

“What are we going to do?” The fact that Pam was turning to him in this crisis felt good. Well, it would have felt a lot better if he’d had any idea what to do. But it felt good all the same.

“Well, it sounds from what I’m getting from Michael,” which had not been much except some muttering about traitors—which apparently included both Toby and Ryan—and Stamford, “we might be doing that move up to Stamford anyway.”

She shook her head. “I won’t be. Well, I mean, I won’t be working for Dunder Mifflin. Polly’s got seniority on me—and she has kids.”

“Yeah.” He remembered her mentioning something about that back in Sydney. “But we could still go, right? I mean, I don’t really want to leave here, but…it’s a job, right?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “And I had a great apartment for us to view today too.”

“Do you want to play a round of What’s-Wrong-With-It?” They’d developed this game as a response to Pam’s ever-hopeful, never-successful apartment hunt. The first place they’d looked had been too expensive; the second, even optimistic Pam hadn’t been able to ignore the black mold in the bathroom; the third was definitely not up to fire code, and so on. “I personally am betting that this will finally be the one that’s nothing but kitchens. Three, four, maybe more. No bedroom, no bathroom, just kitchen.”

“As far as the eye can see.” She laughed. “Thanks, Jim, I needed that. And yes, of course, if you’re moving to Stamford, I’m moving to Stamford. I think Izzy would be glad to see the back of me by now, and it’s not like Connecticut is any further from my parents than Stamford, really.”

“Yeah.” His parents were here in town, but that couldn’t be helped.  “So, uh…I’d been meaning to ask…”

“Yes?”

“I mean, no pressure, and just because we’d be moving to Stamford wouldn’t mean you’d have to say yes—there’s that severance Stanley is giddy about, so you could afford your own place—but if we are moving, which it sounds like we are…”

“Jim Halpert, are you asking me to move in with you?”

“I’m asking you to…consider it?”

“So you’re not asking me to move in with you.”

He sighed. Fish or cut bait, his dad always said, and with Pam he had found he couldn’t cut bait if he tried. “I guess I am.”

“Then I’m accepting.”

Wait, what?

“I mean, it would be pretty silly for me to move to another state with no job and no income just because my boyfriend’s there and not be willing to move in with him, wouldn’t it?” She smiled and him and he grinned at her and they were so wrapped up in each other that neither of them had noticed Kelly walking up to reception.

“Ohmigod, Pam, are you and Jim dating?” Well, that was one way to get other people not to be talking about the branch closing. “Is that why you slapped Alan? Was he trying to get you and Jim to do a threesome? Ohmigod, that’s totally why the two of you danced so much with each other at Diwali! My mom was like ‘who’s your friend’s boyfriend’ and I totally had to explain that you didn’t have a boyfriend and you were still getting over Roy but you do have a boyfriend and you’re totally over Roy and Jim this must be totally like exactly why you didn’t go to Stamford!” All of this was said, despite the obvious need for pauses and punctuation, in one breath.

Jim looked around. Dwight was staring at him like a hawk, mirrored by Angela, who for some reason was at his desk (score one for team Pam’s-theory on that). Phyllis was holding her hands together under her chin looking like she wanted to run over and give him a hug. Toby looked…well, Toby-like, so hangdog, while Michael wasn’t paying attention and Stanley was busy doing something—either a crossword or another calculation of what severance might mean for him. Kevin was coming out of the break room and, as Jim took in the scene, came over and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Nice work. Pam’s hot.” And he was moving back to the back room. That seemed to break the stasis everyone else was in, and he and Pam were bombarded with questions, mostly from Dwight and Kelly in very different tones, and reminded by a surprisingly starchy Toby that they “would need to fill out a form about that.”

All in all, he’d rather have kept talking about the branch closing.

**

Pam took a deep breath. After the scene upstairs she was afraid she had to do something she’d been putting off for a while. Jim had offered to help, but this was something she had to do for herself.

“Hey, Roy.”

“Oh, hey, Pammy! Did you hear? Bob Vance is hiring the warehouse staff. We get to keep our jobs!” He suddenly changed from excited to almost shy, a look she hadn’t really seen before. “But, uh, I’m sorry about yours…you doing OK?”

She thought about it for a moment—and to her surprise, Roy let her. “Yeah, actually, I am.” She nodded. “I really am. But I need to talk to you, Roy.”

“Oh?” The anticipation in his voice was palpable. She was reminded of the first day back from Australia, when he’d revealed that the caterer had accidentally not been canceled and had delivered a whole pallet of chicken and fish entrees for their wedding that never was. He’d offered to bring them for lunch and share with her—“after all, we paid for it”—but she, realizing that would be a really bad idea given that she and Jim were definitely going to eat lunch together had convinced him that they should instead throw a lunch party for the entire office. He’d been holding back since, but she could tell there was hope behind his eyes that she was going to have to dash.

Well, it seemed like everyone was getting some bad news today.

“Yeah.” She took another breath. “I wanted to tell you this myself—I kind of started seeing someone.” She pressed forward into the silence. “Not kind of. Did. I’m seeing someone.”

“What?” He looked crestfallen, not a look she was used to seeing on him. “I mean, I know we didn’t get married, but I was kind of hoping…”

“I know. That’s why I wanted to tell you. I’m glad—really glad—Bob Vance is buying the warehouse, because I want only the best for you, but…”

“But you are the best for me, Pammy.” He interrupted her. “You always were.”

“Maybe I was. But I’m not now.” She remembered to breathe again. “Look, this isn’t up for discussion. I just wanted to let you know. Personally.”

“Gee, thanks.” He was hurting, she could tell, and so it was time for her to let him deal with his emotions himself—it wasn’t her responsibility anymore.

“I’m sorry, Roy.” She turned and walked upstairs, hearing a thud that she thought might be a ream of paper hitting the ground but not turning back to see.

In the office, everything was pandemonium—of course. Why had she imagined she could get peace and quiet to deal with her emotional turmoil? And turmoil it was, not because she regretted any part of what she’d done after Casino Night, but because it never came easily to her to hurt people she cared about, and she would always care about Roy.

“Pam.” Jim pulled her aside. “How’d it go?”

“Eh.” He nodded and folded his arms around her—and it was nice, in that moment, to be out to the office, even if it did mean she’d had to have the conversation she’d just had.

“Very fair.” He sighed. “Ready for some more big news?”

“Sure, why not? What happened, did Michael and Dwight accidentally kill the CEO?” They were out on some quixotic quest to get the branch to stay open.

“No. But Josh did some kind of corporate switcheroo with Staples, and Ryan did one with Office Max, and so Stamford is closing instead of us.” He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck, and she knew he wasn’t done.

“There’s more than that,” she prodded. “What is it, Jim?”

“And since Josh and Ryan are leaving the company, they want me to be the ARM. Here. In Scranton.”

“That’s great!” She threw her arms around his neck. “Why were you nervous to tell me this?”

“Because I’d rather be moving in with you in Stamford than promoted here in Scranton.”

She rolled her eyes. “Jim. I’m not going anywhere. We can look for a place together here. Because we’re not going anywhere.” She spun him around in a circle. “I still have a job. A crappy, terrible one that has me answering my cellphone ‘Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam,’ but still!”

He grinned down at her. “Now, as your ARM, I have to say, your attitude towards your job needs some work.”

“Oh, suck it Halpert.”