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.

Lately Pam had been arriving at work early. Since moving out on her own in June, she found she was an early bird. It helped with the art class she was taking. Her instructor insisted that his students do a few sketches first thing in the morning. Anything that came to mind – they just had to do it. If they couldn’t think of anything to draw, they had to write down what they were thinking about. Questions, ideas, dreams. Pam found this was an easy assignment. She woke up full of ideas, most days. Sometimes she sketched at her desk when she arrived early.

Today was a little different. It was chilly, early December, as she pulled into the parking lot at 7 AM. This was early even for her. The parking lot was empty save for Michael’s Sebring. She saw him standing over near the Dunder-Mifflin entrance, in his black overcoat. She waved but he didn’t see her. He was nervously pacing, his breath visible like a dragon’s. She parked her car and sat for moment with the heater on. In her cup holder there was a large hot chocolate… it was cold enough these days that she favored that in the morning over tea. Next to her was a day bag. She had her cell phone, her sketchpad, and a few magazines. She brought snacks too: goldfish pretzels, string cheese, a Luna bar. Much like the Booze Cruise last year, Michael had planned an event for the office today and was reluctant to give up details. Everyone had gotten a memo to bring a daypack and show up on Friday no later that 7:15 AM. Clearly Michael was taking this very seriously. Dwight and Angela too: they had both been badgering Michael all week for information. Finally, Michael had appointed them co-chairs of the event. It was a designation that meant nothing, but they were taking it seriously nonetheless. As always.

Pam lingered a bit longer in her car. She knew Michael would be hyper and nervous if she approached him and she wasn’t quite ready for it. A few other people had arrived: Dwight and Angela, Kevin, Kelly. A few other cars idled near Pam. When the car clock read 7:05 there was a commotion: a large luxury coach was attempting to pull into the parking lot. Kelly ran to move her car which was blocking a clear turn. Pam cut off her engine, grabbed her bag, and went to join the crowd.

“Pamster” Michael called, more chipper than usual. “I saw you hiding out over there.”

“Sorry, it’s cold.” Pam said in reply. To illustrate, she dug into her coat pocket and pulled out a striped knit cap and put it on. It matched a multi-colored scarf she had around her neck. She was wearing a new black overcoat.

More people were arriving: Meredith, Phyllis, Stanley. Within five minutes most of the office was there. Jim and Karen were last, arriving in Jim’s red Corolla. Pam’s heart sank. She knew she shouldn’t make too much of their arriving together – Karen was temporarily staying with Jim and Mark since the transfer. In the three weeks since Jim, Karen, and Andy had transferred to Scranton, Pam was adjusting to Jim’s new friend. She even, to her surprise, liked her a bit. But, something about their interactions unnerved her deeply.

A coach driver emerged, inviting the group to get aboard. Michael, Dwight, and Angela took the front seats. Pam filed back, sitting midway, just behind Jim. Karen was a few rows up. There were enough seats for people to sit alone. Most of the office was there – only Oscar (who was due back from Europe next week), Andy, and Toby were absent.

“May I have your attention, please.” Dwight intoned, blocking the front aisle. “A few rules before we leave. This is a coach bus. There is a full bathroom in back, and we will have in route entertainment. We will stop once along the way for refreshments.”

Michael had jumped up and was interrupting Dwight. “Shut it, Dwight. Everyone, I’m your host for today. I know you’re all excited to find out where we’re going. I won’t leave you in suspense: this coach is taking us to New York City for the day. I have a lot of fun activities planned: we’re going to a show, ice skating at Rockefeller Center, and later we’ll have dinner near the tree. It should be a great day. We’re scheduled to arrive at about 11 AM so sit back and enjoy. It should be a late night, but it’s not too difficult to sleep on the bus. Then we have all weekend to recover.”

Dwight jumped in again: “Just so you know, Angela and I are in charge of your safety today. So, please pay attention. There is a bathroom in the back, which you can use anytime. Please keep moving around to a minimum otherwise. No standing in the aisle for no reason. Please don’t change seats frequently. If you have any questions for the driver, please direct them to me. Under no circumstances should you talk to the driver while the coach is moving. Are there any questions so far?”

He looked over the crowd. Jim’s hand was up. “I’m sorry, Dwight, but I can see from here that you’re standing in front of the yellow line. That is strictly forbidden.”

Dwight wasn’t fazed. “Actually, Jim, the yellow line rule only applies while the coach is moving.”

Jim looked confused. “Are you sure? I think it applies anytime.”

Dwight ignored him. “Also, please pay very close attention to our schedule. Our scheduled arrival time is 11 AM Eastern Standard Time. Our events are closely scheduled together so please stay with the group and avoid straggling. The coach will pick us up at our drop spot at 9:45 sharp. The bus is scheduled to leave at 10:00 PM sharp. Not 10:05, not 10:10. If you chose to ignore the fixed nature of this schedule, you may be left behind.”

Karen’s hand was up. “Dwight, my mom lives in New York. I’m wondering if it would be OK for me to not return with the coach? I may as well spend the weekend and come back on Sunday.”

Dwight looked non-plussed, as if the possibility had never occurred to him. Michael jumped up and in front of Dwight. “I see no problem with someone not coming back with us. If Jan joins us for dinner, I may be staying in New York tonight as well.”

There was a general mumble around the group. Everyone settled back as the coach moved out of the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot and headed to the highway.

Sure enough, there was entertainment: Michael showed a copy of Moonstruck on the overhead TV monitors as they drove. Pam was impressed with Michael’s choice. She loved this story… it was the kind of New York romance she dreamed of. She saw that Jim was watching too. Suddenly she felt slightly panicked… what if Jim was entranced by the thought of New York, Italian love stories too? Wouldn’t Karen, the New Yorker with a Bohemian artist mother and Italian lawyer father, better suit his fantasy? She was glamorous too, like Loretta Castorini.

Jim was sitting in his seat, watching Moonstruck. It hadn’t occurred to him before, but the story reminded him a lot of Pam. The oaf that Cher is engaged to at the beginning of the movie reminded Jim of Roy. Pam was coming to her own these days, much like Loretta does in the movie. It charmed him, thinking of how Pam had grown since calling off her engagement to Roy. She was more stylish, more centered.  Suddenly he had an idea. He got up and walked a few steps ahead to Karen’s seat.

Pam watched as Jim stepped out of his seat and moved up to talk to Karen. Moments like this were becoming commonplace. It bothered her--- they sat together, worked together, and for now they were living together. How could she compete? They were smiling, laughing. Karen touched Jim’s hand, then leaned down and wrote a few details in her spiral notepad. She tore it out and gave it to Jim. He returned to his seat, smiling. He didn’t see that Pam was looking at him.

By 10:45, the Manhattan skyline had come in to view. The coach navigated the streets and pulled up in front of the New York Public Library. Dwight jumped up and gave another version of his speech from earlier. Everyone began to file off as he was instructing people to synchronize their watches. Jim and Karen waited as people filed off: Phyllis, Stanley, Ryan and Kelly. Pam hung back as well, leaving the bus last after Jim and Karen. As she moved toward the front, Jim turned around.

“Hey, Karen and I are going to ditch the group and play hooky. Are you into it?” He was using his mischievous voice. He was irresistible at moments like this.

“What?” Pam said. “Aren’t you concerned we’ll get in trouble?”

Jim gave her another look. “C’mon, why not?”

Pam grinned from ear to ear. She couldn’t help it: it felt like the old days. She didn’t even need to say yes.

“Just follow my lead.” Jim said as they joined the group outside.

Sure enough, the crowd moved briskly at a steady pace, with Michael and Dwight acting as ringleaders.  It was relatively easy to hang back and ditch them as they passed a subway entrance. Karen led the way, darting down the steps with Jim and Pam close behind. When they got below, Karen sized them up. “You know what, guys? My mom works right near her and I can easily surprise her for lunch. Why don’t you two go off and have your own fun.”

Pam couldn’t suppress her smile. But she felt bad immediately, “Are you sure? Do you want to meet up with us after?”

Karen shook her head. “Look, you guys. This is my town. I can’t wait to see my mom and go sleep in my old bed tonight. I gotta get going. You have my cell number, right, in case you need anything?” She smiled.

Jim nodded. “Aw, I’m kind of disappointed, though. I was looking forward to a tour.” Pam felt that familiar heart plunge. “But I understand.” He reached over and gave Karen a bear hug. He whispered some kind of “thanks” that Pam couldn’t make out. When they parted, Pam thought she saw Karen wink at Jim.

When she was gone, Jim turned to Pam. “Alright, Beesly. I know where I want to go. You with me?” She just smiled and followed him.

It took a few transfers to get on right subway, but before long Jim and Pam were in Brooklyn Heights. It was a gorgeous, chilly December day. Walking briskly, breath visible, Jim and Pam crunched over the frozen grass and icy concrete. In the distance the Brooklyn Bridge stood majestically as an entrance to Manhattan. They stood admiring the view.

“I feel kind of bad, ditching them like that.”

“C’mon Pam, who needs to see the Rockefeller tree again? Look what we have instead.”

It was true. The skyline was magical.

Pam laughed. “Actually, you know what show we’re missing this afternoon?”

Jim smiled and shook his head.

“Michael got everyone tickets to a matinee show of The Jingle Cats. I heard him ordering the tickets last week.”

They both laughed before Jim asked: “What the hell is the The Jingle Cats?”

Pam laughed. “I’m not sure exactly. I think its cats singing Christmas songs.”

“Oh, Pam, good choice we made today.”

They stood, smiling, taking in the view.

Soon they were both hungry and ducked into an Italian eatery. Food arrived quickly: tortellini soup, fresh mozzarella, warm foccaccia. Jim ordered the house table wine. Pam felt herself getting warm by the first glass. By the time dessert was served – ladyfingers dipped in chocolate – she was positively giddy. They had talked for two hours, catching up on so much they’d missed over the summer. Pam couldn’t believe Jim hadn’t heard of Mrs. P at the Claremont. She had seen it twice. Jim’s favorite movie had been Half Nelson, although he admitted that only after insisting he had seen Snakes on the Plane three times because he didn’t understand the plot. “I mean, what was it about? Did you get that?” Pam said her summer music highlight was rediscovering Everything But the Girl, her favorite high school band. She didn’t tell him that she had gotten back into them after hearing “Driving” on the radio and bursting into tears thinking of him.

It was mid-afternoon by the time they left the restaurant. Jim pulled a slip of paper out of his overcoat and examined it. He seemed slightly tipsy, no less than Pam. “Follow me” he said, grabbing her hand for a few steps. Pam allowed him to let go first. They walked around for a bit, past brownstones and bakeries. Finally, they rounded a corner to spot a Christmas Fair in the distance. “Karen told me about this place.” He said. “I can’t remember what she called it. It is supposed to be very similar to Christmas fairs in Italy.” They approached. There were stalls everywhere you looked selling wooden toys, Christmas wreaths, fresh bread. There was one Ferris wheel decorated in white lights. Artists offered to sketch in colored charcoal anything you wished. One stall intrigued them the most: it sold dolls of all sizes. They looked like housewives, done up with brooms to sweep the chimneys. On their backs they carried black satchels that contained a black candy. Jim bought one of medium size. As they rode the Ferris wheel, Jim opened the satchel. The candy was rock solid, black, and looked like charcoal. He broke off two bits and they tried it. It seemed to be made of sugar with something else. Pam couldn’t quite place it.

After a few rounds on the Ferris wheel, Pam and Jim found their way to park nearby. It was chilly but not so much that they couldn’t sit outside for a few minutes. Pam opened her bag to put the doll in. Jim watched as she did it. “Pam Beesley, did you bring your sketch book along today?” he asked.

“Yeah, my art teacher has us take it everywhere we go. We’re supposed to do a few sketches every morning first thing. And if we can’t think of anything to sketch, we’re supposed to write down what we’re thinking.”

Jim smiled. “So it’s like a diary/sketchbook. That could be dangerous.”

Pam smiled back. “Not really. My life’s an open book these days.” She didn’t know why she said that. She saw that Jim hadn’t taken the comment well.

“May I have a look?” he asked. She nodded. She had nothing to hide.

He paged through it. There were sketches, doodles, a few random quotes and comments. Toward the back he paused, reading what she had written. It was from a few weeks ago. She had drawn a tree and next to it had written, “How do I make it happen?” Then a few other nonsense words.

Jim closed the book and gave it back to her. It was starting to get dark already. Looking at his watch, he saw it was 4:30. “You know what? I want to walk the Brooklyn Bridge.  You up for it?”

Pam grinned. “Yeah, totally.”

The Bridge was vast. Jim and Pam walked briskly, watching as night began to fall. The water was dramatic below them, churning ropey currents. Buildings in the distance glinted with the last sign of light. It was getting colder, but Pam’s feet were growing tired. They must have walked four miles today. Finally, she needed to stop.

They leaned against the railing, looking as Manhattan loomed ahead of them. “When I was a girl, I wanted to go to art school in New York. That was before I discovered I could go to art school in Paris. Now if I had to choose, I think New York is just about perfect.”

Jim turned and looked at her. Brooklyn was behind him now. “You can still do that, Pam. What’s stopping you?”

Pam shook her head. “Money, mostly. Do you know what Parsons or The School of Visual Arts cost per year? More than I make.”

Jim nodded. “Loans are always available, you know. Plus if you transferred your credits from the time you spent in college, you might be able to graduate in two years.”

Pam contemplated this. “I don’t know. My dad paid for his own education and it took him 30 years to pay it off. It’s one reason we never had a lot of money growing up.”

Jim nodded. “I know it’s daunting. I had to drop out of college after my dad died. But it’s not impossible. You should talk to Jan. Some companies help their employees finance education.”

Pam looked surprised. “I had no idea that’s why you dropped out of college. I just assumed you were a slacker.”

Jim half smiled, not sure how to take it. Pam could be so insensitive at times. “I will go back one day. I look forward to it.”

“Yeah, you should take your own advice.” Her tone was kind.

“I know you think about it too, Pam. You’ve changed a lot in the last six months. I even saw that comment you made in the sketchbook. ‘How can I make it happen.’ That’s Fancy New Beesly talking.”

Jim couldn’t see in the dark, but Pam was blushing. She had forgotten about that sketch in the back. She had done it the day after Jim transferred back from Stamford. “Jim, I’m freezing to death. I think we need to get moving.”

Together they moved their way towards Manhattan.

By the time they arrived it was dark. Both were tired and cold. They walked another mile, stopping finally at a coffeehouse. The building that housed it had once been a church. When they walked it, they saw it retained its ecclesiastical feel. Some of the seats were old pews. There were large stained glass windows looking down on the velvet couches. Pam ordered a mulled cider. Jim got a triple espresso. They took a seat at a couch in a front corner, sitting beneath an ornate church window. Pam admired the colors, which were lit from the streetlights outside. The lights inside were dim. There was a candle lit on the table in front of them. They were silent for a long while. Pam kept her hands around her large mug of cider, using the cinnamon stick to stir. Finally she turned to face him and said:

“Can you imagine how freaked out Dwight and Angela are right now? We’ve missed the ice skating, the matinee show, they’re probably having dinner right now somewhere near the tree.”

Jim smiled. “Dwight probably tried to get the police involved. He’s offered to head up the investigation.”

Pam grew serious. “Should we not have done this? I hope it didn’t ruin their day.”

Jim laughed. “I’m pretty much counting on it ruining Dwight’s day.” Then, after a while he said, “Pam, you shouldn’t worry so much about what people think. You could do so much if you just stopped caring what people think of you.”

Pam suddenly felt a surge within her. Something had tripped her circuits. “Right, like call off a wedding six days before it was supposed to happen? Like kiss a guy when I was engaged?”

Jim was non-plussed. “No, I just mean…”

Pam cut him off. “I’m getting a little tired of you telling me what I need to be doing. You want to hear what I think you should be doing? You could have called me this summer, for one. You knew I was living alone.  That I broke up with Roy within weeks of you telling me how you felt. Didn’t it occur to you that maybe I needed to hear from you during that time? Not just as my best friend, but as the guy who turned my whole fucking world upside down? You didn’t have to wait until we accidentally made contact five months later and then skirt around the issue. You didn’t have to completely drop the subject since you transferred back. As if what happened between us meant nothing?”

Jim was genuinely shocked. This conversation had taken a wrong turn somewhere. “I never said it meant nothing, Pam. I think it should be perfectly obvious just how much that night mattered to me. But, may I remind you? I put myself on the line for you and you said no. Twice. What more information do you need? Do you want to rehash the whole event again? Make it absolutely clear how much it hurt to have you, my best friend, say that to me? Because I was there, and I have no intention of being hurt like that again.”

To his surprise, Pam wasn’t softening. She seemed even more angry. “You know, Jim? I’m starting to wonder if you might be a little dense. Did it ever occur to you that telling me you were in love with me on the eve of my wedding might not have been a great idea? That it might not have been the time to get the results you were looking for? That maybe, just maybe, my feelings for you were utterly irrelevant when I had a wedding three weeks away?”

Jim was silent. Looking at the floor. Pam got up and pulled her coat on. “You know what, Jim? I’m starting to think you just don’t get me at all.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Jim sat for a long time. When he looked at his watch, he had his first clear thought in a while, and it was one of panic. It was 10:00 PM. He heard Dwight’s voice in his head from earlier. “The bus is scheduled to leave at 10 PM. Not 10:05 or 10:10. If you choose to ignore the fixed nature of this schedule, you may be left behind.”

----- End of Part One