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Author's Chapter Notes:
So, this chapter got away from me. It originally started off too short, but when I tried to find the next best place to cut it off, it ended up being super long. So, sorry about that. But hopefully it's worth it! 

Jim ran to the shop door once he saw Pam leave the studio. “Hey, Pam,” he called out, “wait up!”

Pam turned to see Jim jogging towards her, Singer immediately ran up to him, making Jim stop in his tracks halfway across the street. Jim avoids Singer’s slobbery kisses, not wanting to be drenched in dog saliva, no matter how much he loves the dog. Like Pam, Jim tended to talk to Singer like he would anyone else; he knew Singer understood more than the average dog. “Hey, Bud, have you missed me?” He pets the top of his head and then points over to Pam. “C’mon, you big lug, let’s get out of the street.”

Singer trots beside Jim, nudging Jim with his head anytime he stops petting him.

Pam smiles, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he likes you more than me.”

“C’mon. We both know he definitely likes me more than you.”

Pam laughs, and even though he knows it’s only been a little over a week since she last laughed with him, it feels like a lifetime. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you very much lately.”

He shrugs, “Good, I guess. Just busy.”

“Yeah, me too. How was the other night, with Danny and Karen?”

“It was fun. Karen and I teamed up on Danny- “

“As you always should.”

Jim smiles, “Of course. We won every game until Danny got sick of us and forced us out of the house. Wish you could have made it, but…”

He shrugs, trying to make it seem like it’s not a big deal, although his expression and what Roy had told her made her think otherwise. He surprised her, though, by changing the topic. “But I got some good news.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“You know Kevin? The lead and drummer for Scrantonicity? He caught me before we left on Saturday and asked if I could fill in for their guitarist. He has to go to a wedding or something the next time they’re supposed to play.”

“That’s awesome, Jim. When is that?”

“In a couple of weeks, end of September. I mean, it’s just a one-time thing, but it should be fun.”

“I’m really happy for you. I’ll be sure to clear my schedule that weekend.”

“Thanks, I’d love if you were able to come, actually.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it.”

Jim smiles, “So, what have you been up to? I know you’ve been going out with Roy, but we haven’t been able to catch up lately. Anything new and exciting happening?”

“Not really. Singer’s been driving me up a wall lately, but that’s about it.”

Jim looks down and raises an eyebrow at Singer who looks back at him and huffs a little, What did I do? Jim shakes his head and looks back up at Pam, “What has he been doing?”

“He’s been super clingy, won’t leave me alone. Growls or stares menacingly anytime Roy’s around. He’s insane.”

Jim laughs, “Maybe he needs some Prozac or something.”

“Maybe. But if he doesn’t cut it out, I’m buying an outdoor doghouse and he can live in the backyard.”

“Well, listen, I’d be glad to take him off your hands anytime. I’ve been wanting to take one last trip to the beach before the weather gets too cold, I’ll take him with me and wear him out so much he’ll sleep for two days straight.”

She smiles, “I may just take you up on that.”

“I hope so, I miss the big guy.” Jim scratches Singer’s head for a moment before speaking again, “Any good Kelly stories?”

“She told me about her date on Saturday.”

“That guy she was with at Poor Richard’s?”

“Yeah, you saw him?”

“Yeah, he seemed like a creep with a bad dye job. I thought she hit the low mark with that guy she went out with two months ago.”

“Oh, yeah, the guy with the soul patch?”

Jim laughs, “Yes, him! Man, I feel bad for her. I wish she would go after someone who actually respected her.”

“Me too. But at least she gives us entertaining stories. Scranton is only exciting because of people like her.”

“You’re right, as always. Oh, hey, Karen wants you to call her, by the way. Or, at least that’s what Danny said.”

“Do you know what about?”

“No, probably just wants to share a recipe or whatever it is you two talk about.”

“Oh, Jim. We don’t share recipes; we talk about good stuff.”

“So, you guys gossip.”

“I like to think of it as keeping in touch.”

Jim rolls his eyes, but smiles, “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Give me a call if she spills anything good, though, okay? And then maybe we can set something up with Singer. Maybe I can take him this weekend?”

Pam smiles and nods, “You got it, Halpert.”

“See you around.”

Jim pets Singer once more before Pam tells him to get in her Jeep and he turns to head back to the garage.

 

He’s glad he did that. He knew he missed talking to her, but he didn’t realize just how much until they were actually talking again. And sure, it wasn’t a very deep or earth-shattering conversation, but at least now he knew that she still enjoyed talking to him. It was like nothing had ever changed, how easily they joked around and laughed at each other. That had to count for something – right?

And she was bound to call tonight. Karen always had something to say that was worth repeating, and even if she didn’t, his offer to take Singer practically guaranteed she would call him. Nothing, not even Roy and his stupid locket, could ruin his mood right now. Jim was happy for the first time since Roy entered Pam’s life, and consequently his. His good mood lasted though cleaning up the garage, his trip home, even through dinner. He was still in a good mood as he crawled into bed, turning on the evening news. It lasted until he realized it was now after midnight, and the phone hadn’t rung at all.

 

***

 

The rest of the week wasn’t any better. If anything, Jim felt worse and worse as the days went on and his phone never rang. Pam also never stopped by the garage, he would watch as she went straight to her car after work, driving past the shop without so much as slowing down. He doesn’t think she’s avoiding him or anything, but he can tell that she certainly isn’t going out of her way to talk to him.

Which feels weird, if he’s honest with himself.

He’s known Pam for over 10 years now, knows her better than anyone in this town, and she, him. He knows her work schedule, when she usually likes to take her breaks, what days she stays late so her and Jo can catch up after work. He knows this because if she isn’t spending her free time with him, she’s telling him all about it. But ever since Roy walked into town, he feels like he doesn’t know her at all anymore.

Sure, he could have called her, just like how he could have called her last week or stopped by if he wasn’t outright avoiding her. But he wanted her to be the one to reach out. To show that she still cares about him, even if only as a friend. He’d take that over this weird limbo they’re in right now. And, if he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to call while she was at home and risk Roy being there too. Or, even worse, she’s not home and he would have to sit and wonder where she is.

And just when he thought his week couldn’t get any worse, with Pam never calling or showing up or even looking in his direction, he steps out of the garage just in time to see her leaving the studio mid-afternoon that Friday. He sighs because even though he doesn’t know where she’s going, he’s pretty sure he knows why.

Roy.

He really tried not to care. He was determined not to care. He had plans for tonight, too. A beer in the fridge, Blockbuster a few doors down, pizza to be delivered around seven. Maybe he’d stay up all night, watch some movies, play a couple video games, pretend he’s in college again.

My life is pathetic, he thinks, sighing as Pam drives past the shop, not noticing Jim standing out front. Or pretending she doesn’t notice. He’s not sure which one is worse.

And despite his determination to not care, watching her car slowly drive out of view makes him realize that he truly does care. He wishes he didn’t, especially as the weekend wears on and by Sunday morning, he feels like he knows almost every detail of their date. And not from Pam, because of course not, but from practically everyone else in town. He would overhear bits and pieces, what she ate on Friday from two old women in the grocery store, what she wore from his barber on Saturday, people who Jim didn’t even know that Pam talked to had more information about her date than he did. No, sorry, dates. Because if picking her up in a limo and taking her down to Philadelphia for dinner and a live production of Les Misérables at the Merriam Theatre wasn’t enough, on Saturday, he took her to the Jersey Shore for a hot air balloon ride and a picnic on the beach.

How was he supposed to compete with that?

 

***

 

Pam woke up on Sunday morning, mind immediately filled with memories of the past two days. Now that was a weekend, she thinks as she lays in bed and reflects on everything that had happened. Her moment of reminiscing is interrupted when Singer starts to whine, so she crawls out of bed to let him outside. She steps out onto the deck, wrapping her arms around herself as the late summer air swirls around her. She watches as Singer surveys the yard, leaning up against the deck railing just as he starts towards the line of trees.

She hasn’t had a weekend like that in… well, she’s honestly never had a weekend like that. Even her nicest dates with Mark couldn’t compare to limo rides, live theatre, and an afternoon in a hot air balloon. She loved her dates with Mark, some of her favorites were the ones spent at home in sweats, but she’d be lying to herself if she said that she didn’t enjoy Roy spoiling her a little bit. It was different, to say the least, but she enjoyed it.

She almost felt like a completely different person the past two days. When Roy showed up at her house with a limo, she was concerned that her version of fancy severely paled in comparison to his. She could tell his suit was nice and it was tailored to fit him like a glove. Curiosity eventually got the better of her, so while they were walking into the theatre, she asked him about it.  He told her it was Armani just as she stepped inside and saw everyone else dressed in clothing she could only dream of owning. Suddenly, her clearance Nordstrom’s Rack dress, that was still more expensive and nicer than anything she has ever owned besides her wedding dress, felt like rags as she surveyed those around her.

Roy’s hand on her waist draws her back, and she smiles up at him when he pulls her closer. She lets him lead her to their seats and as the lights dim and the performance starts, she quickly forgets about Armani and fancy dresses and clearance racks. Although she was excited when Roy had told her where they were going, she had assumed that watching a play anywhere that wasn’t Broadway would be akin to a really good high school play. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

She was immediately captivated by the actors, the lighting, the orchestra, the backdrops, all of it. She almost forgot she wasn’t actually in France in 1815, smack dab in the beginnings of a revolution, until intermission is announced, and she remembers where she is. She knows Roy had asked her questions, but she doesn’t remember her answers, only counting down the minutes until the show started again.

She still has tears in her eyes when they reach the steak restaurant a few blocks away. She pulls herself together and pretends she can pronounce more than three of the dishes on the menu. She also lets herself pretend that she blends in with everyone else, cloth napkin on her lap and laughing with Roy over salmon and Kennett square mushrooms.

Once they’re alone again in the limo, she’s able to relax more, not having to compare herself to so many others. He pours her a glass of champagne and lets her tell him her favorite parts of the play. By the time they’re back in Scranton, she’s just slightly buzzed, the wine from dinner and the champagne making her feel like maybe she could get used to this kind of lifestyle. One where she spends hundreds of dollars on a date night dress and where she knows what Kennett square mushrooms actually are. She kisses him goodnight after agreeing to another day out tomorrow, then walked inside as she told Singer to stop glaring.

Saturday was just as nice, but she would also be lying if she said she wasn’t happy that things were more her speed. He agreed to take her Jeep instead of his new Lincoln, she was wearing jeans and a cardigan instead of a dress, and they were going to a beach instead of a theatre. The hot air balloon ride was more than she had bargained for, but the views of the ocean were gorgeous, so she wasn’t complaining. She tried to commit it all to memory so she could paint it later, pointing out little details to Roy, never noticing that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

After landing, they walked down the boardwalk, hand in hand. She would pose for some pictures he took and then blush when he complimented her. They walked until the crowd dispersed, until they were alone, the only noise coming from the few seagulls flying overhead. He led her down some stairs until they were on a secluded part of the beach, partially hidden by rocks and hills. He lays out a blanket and as she sits down, she relishes in the normalcy of this moment. She had gone on many picnics, Mark was a big fan of them, so being back on a checkered blanket with a woven basket and nothing else almost felt like heaven. Roy hadn’t packed subs and chips like Mark always would, but she enjoyed the cheese and cracker platter and the bottle of wine he chose to accompany it.

After they finished eating, Roy had offered to give her a foot rub. She originally declined, the thought of anyone rubbing her feet sounded cheesy and a little weird, but she couldn’t help but relax when Roy gently took one of her feet, slipping off her ankle boot and started massaging.

The feeling didn’t last long, though, as her mother’s words came to mind. Pam had been eight years old, sitting on the living room floor as her mother fixed the hem of one of her shirts. Pam had asked what happened to Isaac, one of her mother’s longer-term boyfriends and a guy Pam was actually starting to like that had suddenly stopped showing up. Her mother hummed, deliberating her answer. After a moment she simply shrugs and says, “He didn’t rock my boat. Sometimes that’s just how it is.”

Pam didn’t question it any further, even though she was wondering where this supposed boat was and why she had never seen it. It wasn’t until years later when she finally understood what her mother was saying, and although her mother is far from a good role model, she has considered these words throughout all of her relationships.

She looks over as Singer starts heading back over to her and wonders, Does Roy rock my boat?

He should, right? He’s kind, attentive, handsome, and spoils her even when she tells him not to. But something wasn’t there. Chemistry, spark, whatever it was that kept couples together, she hasn’t found it with Roy. She didn’t feel the tingles up her arm when they held hands or the dreamy feeling after a date like she did with Mark. Dates with Roy were unbelievable. She never would have pictured herself watching live theatre and being 2,000 feet above the ground within twenty-four hours of each other, it just wasn’t what she did, even if she did learn that she kind of liked it. But she couldn’t only blame it on the dates. Roy was great, he is great. He just didn’t rock her boat.

Sometimes, as her mother would say, that’s just how it is.

She can’t help but wonder though, as she walks back inside with Singer, if that’s her fault. If she was rushing things, or if she was holding back too much. She remembered that it took her and Mark a while before they had really formed their relationship. It wasn’t tingles and butterflies right away. Well, maybe there were butterflies, but she knows the tingles didn’t come until later. It helped, though that Mark knew most of her history before they started dating. He knew who she was and she knew who he was, so their dates weren’t filled with small talk and get-to-know-you’s. Her and Roy haven’t reached that stage yet.

So, maybe she needed more time. Her and Roy knew the basics of each other, but when details of their pasts came up, they both avoided the subject. She wasn’t ready to talk about how unsettling it was watching the dozens of men who came and went with her mother or how scary it was living on the streets or how hard it was when Mark died. Those were difficult memories, and she didn’t feel comfortable sharing them yet. Mark had met her while she was in the middle of that part of her life, so it was easy to let him in. Roy had met her when she was older, wiser, more settled in life and herself.

She shakes her head, trying to stop herself from comparing. It was a bad habit she had formed after she had started dating again, comparing any man that showed interest in her to Mark and sighing as she realized none of them could ever get close. But it wasn’t fair, to herself or the men she dated, to compare them to someone who she held up so high.

So, she wouldn’t compare, and maybe she will give Roy a little more time. See if that spark ignites once she lets herself open up a little more.

Singer’s bark brings her back to reality, and her eyebrows furrow as she sees him barking at the door, tail wagging. She walks over and opens the door to Karen with McDonald’s in hand. “So, what happened?” Karen demands, walking past Pam and making herself at home in the living room, “Tell me everything, don’t leave any details out.”

 

***

 

“A foot massage?!” Jim asks, not bothering to hide his disbelief.

“According to what she told Karen yesterday, yes.”

A foot massage??”

Danny shrugs, “He has that kind of flair to him.”

Jim groans, sinking down in his seat. Foot massages were not accounted for when coming up with his plan to win over Pam. Flowers, maybe more jewelry, sure. But not foot massages.

As if his day couldn’t get any worse, Danny says, “Oh, and Dwight called. He’ll be checking on his Trans Am. That decal or whatever you promised him, I don’t know.” He starts walking back towards his office, “Oh, and Philbin will be here later for his truck. Will you have that done? I promised him it’d be done by today.”

Jim looks out of the garage door towards the studio, “Yeah, I’ll get it done.”

 

***

 

Kelly was not happy.

She was almost sick to her stomach after hearing everything that Roy had done for Pam on Friday and Saturday. A limo, champagne, watching Lame Is or whatever the heck it’s called, then a hot air balloon ride and a picnic on the beach, it sounds like a dream come true, and Pam seems so nonchalant about it. Shrugging it off, as if it’s no big deal. 

She wanted to brag about her weekend. How it was exactly like all the others she’s had recently, hanging out at Poor Richard’s on Saturday, trying to find someone to bring home. She had run into Cobra – sorry, Ryan – again, trying to fight off his advances, hoping anyone else would talk to her. How she eventually gave up and went home alone because that was better than going home with Ryan again. And then yesterday she spent all day mending her nails after losing the tips the night before. She was sure Jo and Pam would love to hear that, that they would just be boiling with jealousy over her weekend activities.

But neither had asked about her weekend. It was only “was the limo nice?” “did you let him drive the jeep?” “please tell me you’re going to paint me the view from the balloon.” Pam. Pam. Pam. It’s all about Pam. She returns to filing down her nails, having not completed the job yesterday. She huffs, not surprised that Pam and Jo don’t even glance in her direction.

This is not how things are supposed to be.

 

***

 

Roy walked into the studio, holding the door open for Pam’s client who was making her way out. He smiles up at her once the door was closed and although she smiles back, her mind is still swirling with thoughts of boat rocking, opening up, no sparks, and more time.

“You look beautiful,” he says before leaning down for a kiss. It’s quick and nice but there are no fireworks, but she can’t really expect every kiss to be magical like it had been with Mark, right?

Stop comparing.

She shakes her head and thanks him for the compliment. He nods back towards the door, “Are you free for a cup of coffee?”

Jo had gone out for an early lunch with a friend and Pam glances over at Kelly who is sitting in front of an easel, but reading Cosmo magazine instead of painting. She looks back to Roy and nods, “Yeah, I’ve got a little time. My next lesson is in half an hour, though.”

“Great,” he reaches for her hand but stops when his eyes catch the little area of skin above her shirt, his forehead wrinkling. “Where’s your locket?”

Her hand automatically gravitates to her chest, as if to confirm that she wasn’t wearing it, even though she knew she had taken it off before bed last night and purposefully didn’t put it on this morning. “Oh, yeah. It kept falling forward, almost hitting the canvases. I didn’t want it to get covered in paint.”

He had a smile on his face, but she still couldn’t quite read his expression. It seemed almost plastic, the way he was looking at her. “Why didn’t you just slip it under your shirt?”

“I did, but it kept falling out.”

“I’ll get you a shorter chain, then it won’t get in your way.”

She raises an eyebrow, “That’s okay, really. I just won’t wear it to work.” She pauses and studies his face, which hasn’t changed. “Does it really bother you that much that I don’t wear it?”

“I just thought you liked it.”

“I do. I just don’t want to wear it while I’m working.”

He seemed to consider that for a second, his expression growing more natural. “I’ll get you a shorter chain. That way you can have two and you can wear it whenever you want.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He takes her hand and leads her to the door, “But I want to.”

She looks up at him as he opens the door for her and she steps past him. His smile is more genuine, his voice is lighter, and he seems to have relaxed since originally noticing she wasn’t wearing the locket. But there was still something on his face – she just couldn’t figure out what.

 

***

 

Kelly let her Cosmo magazine fall to the floor as soon as the door closed behind Roy and Pam. She leans back in her chair, no longer hiding the look of disgust on her face now that she’s alone.

Doesn’t Pam know how great she has it? How kind and giving Roy is? Not every guy just gives out hot air balloon rides and expensive lockets while not expecting anything in return. She’s pretty sure Pam hasn’t even French kissed him yet, and he still does all of these things for her. The limo ride must have cost more than all of her own dates combined in the past year. Hell, it was probably more than all of her dates earned in the past year combined.

And Pam isn’t even the least bit grateful. Why wouldn’t she want to wear the stupid locket? Even if it wasn’t Kelly’s taste, per say, she knew it was nice and she would definitely wear it if Roy had given it to her. He was obviously upset when he saw she didn’t have it on, but Pam just tried to brush it off. He offered to buy her a second chain, so she could have options, and Pam wanted none of it.

Pam didn’t even have the courtesy to pretend like she was wearing it. She had to have known Roy would be showing up. He showed up every day, always around this time, without fail. And after a weekend full of champagne and picnics and massages? What did she expect?

She felt bad for Roy, not being appreciated like he should be. If only he had asked her out instead of Pam that first day he showed up in the studio, she could show him what it was truly like to be loved like he deserved.

Roy, she decided, was the best man she had ever met. She wondered if Pam would be willing to give him up. She certainly didn’t deserve him.

 

***

 

Manipulated.

She was in the middle of her next lesson when the word manipulated crossed her mind, giving her the exact feeling she had had since Roy had gone back to work. The thought made her freeze, prompting her client to ask if she was okay. She nodded and gave her the weekly assignment early, allowing Pam to wash brushes and think about her newly discovered feelings towards Roy.

While driving to coffee, sitting in the café, and driving back to work, she constantly reminded herself to not compare, open up, take her time. But their conversation in the studio wouldn’t leave her head, no matter how hard she tried. And no matter how much she replayed the conversation, she couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong with it. That is, until she was in the middle of her lesson and she almost felt lightheaded once she came to the realization.

She didn’t like feeling manipulated, especially by someone who supposedly cared about her. Promises to herself aside, she couldn’t help but think of the differences between Mark and Roy once more. Mark rarely got angry, but when he did, he didn’t try to mask it. He would let her know that he was upset and why and they would usually come to a solution before they went to bed, if not within a few minutes. She can think of only twice where they went to sleep still unhappy with each other in the almost decade they were together. But Roy really tried to act as if he wasn’t upset, wasn’t angry, as if everything was fine, when it clearly wasn’t. He was obviously distressed that she wasn’t wearing the locket.

But why?

She told him why she wasn’t wearing it, and she was telling the truth. Sure, acrylic paints would probably wash right off, but she didn’t want her oils to get stuck in the engravings, staining and ruining the necklace. A shorter chain would help make sure it didn’t get caught up in any paintings, but she also didn’t see the big deal about just wearing it after work. She liked it, she had told him that, so why was he being so particular about this locket?

She checks on her client, answering a few questions before letting her get back to work.

Manipulated.

It was as if he wanted her to feel guilty about not wearing it. It was a gift. Yes, an expensive and very nice gift, but a gift, nonetheless. Karen gave her a pair of shoes and a nice sweater for her birthday last year, but she never has asked why Pam isn’t wearing either.

The Roy who came into the studio this morning felt so different from the one she sat next to in the theatre and who she watched the ocean with while eating cheese and crackers. The way he talked, his smile, his obvious displeasure, even though he was trying to convince her otherwise. It just felt… off.

She remembers the look on his face as he dropped her back off at the studio. As long as you listen to me and we do things my way, we won’t have a problem, he seemed to imply in between his smile and his “Goodbye, Pam.”

She does a final check on her client’s work before wishing her a good rest of the day and walking her out. Once she was alone in the back room again, she sits up on the table, resting her face in her hands.

If she felt confused yesterday, then she was outright conflicted now. She feels like a broken record, telling herself over and over that she likes Roy. He’s a good guy. He just has a few flaws. Everyone has flaws. He cares about her. She likes him. Just a few flaws. He cares.

She just wishes that she didn’t have to convince herself so much that they should be together. There was a reason, even if it was subconscious, on why she saw the locket sitting on her dresser this morning and walked right past it, not giving it a second thought until Roy brought it up. After wearing it all last week, then throughout the entire weekend, why didn’t she wear it today?

She couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she should listen to her mother’s advice after all. Sometimes that’s just how it is.

 

***

 

Jim was standing in the middle of the garage, next to a red Trans Am that was his customer’s pride and joy. The same customer who Jim is currently trying to not hit over the head with a wrench.

Danny had conveniently forgotten about a very important call he had to make right up until Dwight walked through the garage doors, then excused himself to his office before Dwight could announce his presence. 27 minutes later, Jim has counted, Dwight is complaining that the Batman decal he had requested be put on the hood of his car is exactly “zero-point-seven inches off center, moron.”

Truth be told, Dwight was lucky that Jim had agreed to put on the decal. It’s not usually something he offers, but Dwight is one of their biggest clients, so he made an exception. Dwight lived right outside of Scranton, but his farm provided most of the fresh vegetables for the county. He lived in a farmhouse with his wife, Angela, and in addition to growing a plentiful crop every year, he is also known to breed certain breeds of dogs, which is how Pam got Singer. Honestly, that’s the main reason he puts up with Dwight and his annoyances. Pam has a soft spot for him because of Singer, and Jim loves the dog himself, so he’ll put up with Dwight’s requests the one or two times a year he makes them, as an unspoken thank you.

Unfortunately for Jim, owning one of the biggest farms in Lackawanna County also means that losing Dwight as a customer would mean taking a major blow as a business. And Dwight knows it, too. So, even if Pam hated him and he never gave her Singer, Jim would still be forced to fake a smile and nod along as Dwight drags on about how the Batman symbol has to be exactly centered in order for him to be taken seriously.

It takes all of Jim’s self-control to not laugh out loud.

Instead, he says, “Of course,” because obviously the Batman symbol being just slightly off center is what’s going to make others not take him seriously.

Dwight must have noticed the hint of sarcasm behind Jim’s tone because he looks at him, a slight scowl hiding behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Is there a problem?”

“Nope.”

“Jim.”

“Dwight.”

Dwight does something that’s between a sigh and a scoff, and Jim can just hear the satisfying whack the wrench would make against Dwight’s thick skull. “Jim. Jim, Jim, Jim. Haven’t I been a loyal customer for the past twelve years?”

“Yes.”

“Haven’t I brought all of my cars here? And my tractors?”

“Yes.”

“So, by nine a.m. tomorrow morning, I expect this symbol to be precisely centered.”

“Precise.”

“I’m going to Comic-Con in Maryland this weekend, so I need this to be perfect. I handmade an exact replica of Batman’s suit from the original comics, so I can’t show up with a Batmobile that has an off centered logo. Got it, Grease Monkey?”

Whack. Whack. Whack. “Grease Monkey. Got it.”

Dwight starts walking out of the garage doors, talking over his shoulder, “Tomorrow, nine a.m.”

Jim finally unclenched his fists that he had hidden in his pockets as Danny slowly opens his office door. He checks to make sure the coast really is clear before walking over to Jim, standing behind him. Jim was still staring out the doors, mumbling to himself, unaware that Danny had entered the room.

“Maybe you should have made sure it was centered,” Danny offers, “The logo I mean.”

Jim glances back at him, “Shut up.”

“Just trying to be helpful.”

Jim wipes his hands on his overalls before heading towards the back shelves. “Yeah, well you’re not.”

Danny follows behind him, “I’m just saying, maybe there’s something else you can do to calm him down next time.”

“Duct tape?”

“I was thinking of something a little more subtle.”

Jim turns to face him, leaning back against the shelves. “Like what?”

“Maybe a foot massage would do the trick.” He smirks at Jim’s jaw dropping before turning and heading back to his office.

Sometimes Jim really hated his brother.

 

Darryl had come by a few hours later to pick up his truck. He paid for the repairs with Danny before meeting Jim by the driver’s side door.

“The keys are on the seat. Oh, and I noticed the brakes were a little loose, so I tightened them, on the house. Just be prepared for that. Other than that, it’s good to go.”

Darryl Philbin, head of the construction team that Roy is a part of and one of the biggest city-slickers Jim has ever met. For someone who worked around dirt and dust all day, he dressed exceptionally well. He wore a suit that Jim was sure cost more than a week of his own salary, a Rolex on his wrist, and a pair of shoes that looked like they came straight from a Vineyard Vines catalog. Jim would have been self-conscious of his own appearance if his outfit wasn’t covered by his work overalls.

“I’ll let them know,” Darryl says, “Though, I’m not even sure why I’m here. Usually maintenance handles this stuff but,” he scoffs a little, “most of them are still down in Austin. The rest are too busy picking up their slack, so it’s up to the boss to do the in between stuff, you know?”

“Definitely.” He points his thumb to Danny’s office door, “That guy likes to think he’s the boss, but I think everyone in town knows who does the most work here.” Darryl laughs, and Jim takes his happy mood as his opportunity to maybe find out some more information on Roy. “So, uh, how many guys you’ve got working for you?”

“I don’t know, a couple hundred, maybe? But they’re spread out between a few states. Why, you looking for a job?”

“Oh, no, I just do cars.” He taps the hood of the truck with his fist, as if confirming his job title. “I had just met one of your workers the other day, one of the engineers working on the bridge across town.”

“Oh yeah? Which one?”

“Roy Anderson.”

Jim notices that Darryl’s face immediately hardens, “Oh.”

“You know him?”

He scoffs, “Yeah. I know him.”

Jim leans against the side of the truck, hoping to keep the conversation casual. “Nice guy?”

“What do you think?”

Jim hesitated, not really expecting that as an answer. “I think it sounds like the answer’s no.”

Darryl was quiet for a moment, considering Jim’s answer. Finally he looked back over at him, “What’s it to you, anyway? Is he your friend?”

“Oh, no. I just met him that one time.”

Darryl turns and opens the truck door, “Good. Keep it that way, you don’t want to know him.”

Jim’s eyebrows knitted together, “Why’s that?”

Darryl paused, and after a moment shook his head and climbed into the truck, asking if he was good to leave. Jim had tried to ask again, but Darryl ignored his question, so Jim took a step back so he could pull out. He watches as Darryl drives off, leaving Jim with even more questions than he started with.

He wasn’t able to think about it for long though, as Singer trotted into the garage a couple minutes later.

Jim lets out a small oof as Singer jumps up on him, resting a paw on each shoulder. “Hey, big guy. What are you doing over here?”

Singer whined before hopping off, walking over to where Jim usually keeps his lunch.

“Already ate, bud. No more food left for today.” He nods towards the office door though. “Danny has some though, and he left while I was talking to Darryl. Let’s go clean him out.”

Singer led the way, pushing open the door that Danny had left cracked. Jim followed behind, walking around Singer to open the bottom desk drawer, pulling out Danny’s favorite, and secret, snacks, powdered donuts and chocolate chip cookies.

He alternated between eating a couple himself and tossing the others to Singer. He knew it probably wasn’t good for him, but his tail wagged a little more with each treat. He got to spend some time with Singer, he knew Danny would be annoyed when he got back and saw that his stash was missing, and if he was lucky, Singer would stick around long enough so Pam will have to come get him. Overall, he saw this as a win-win…win.

 

***

 

Pam finished cleaning up after her last lesson of the day before walking out to the main room. She looks around, eyebrows furrowing slightly when she notices that Singer isn’t laying by the door. She turns to Jo, “Have you seen Singer?”

“I let him out about an hour ago, he was standing at the door.”

“And he hasn’t come back?”

Jo shrugs, “I think he went over to the garage.”

Pam rolls her eyes, “Alright, I’ll go find him.”

 

She pushes open the studio door and then glances down both sides of the street before crossing over. Once she reaches the garage, she immediately spotting Jim sitting near the doors. “Hey, Jim.”

He looks up from the puzzle he’s working on and grins when he sees her walk up, “Hi.”

She laughs when she’s close enough to see the puzzle box, “You’re still working on this one? It’s been like… three weeks.”

“I’ll have you know that this isn’t your everyday puzzle. It’s fifteen-hundred pieces.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Still, three weeks?”

“I didn’t know there was a time restraint on my hobbies. So, did you come over here for a reason, or just to tease me?”

She grins, “As much as I do love to tease you… have you seen Singer?”

“Oh, yeah,” he points to the side of the room, and she takes another step forward to see Singer lying on a blanket, snoring away, originally hidden by Dwight’s Trans Am. Jim chuckles, “I may have fed him too many treats.”

“You spoil him.” She whistles and Singer slowly brings his head up, looking over at her with droopy eyes. He gets up when he sees it’s Pam and walks over to her, circling around her as she pats his back. “I was starting to think something happened to him.”

Jim smiled, thankful that Singer hadn’t gone back to the studio.

She looks back up at him, “Thanks for keeping an eye on him. What’s going on?”

Well, Roy’s boss was just in here a little bit ago and basically told me that Roy isn’t a guy we should be hanging around, Jim thinks, but he doesn’t think Pam wants to hear about that right now. Instead, he shrugs.

“Not much, just this,” he gestures to the puzzle, “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Just fine?”

She shrugs a shoulder, “Just one of those days, you know how it is.”

“Yeah, I do. Especially today. I had to deal with Dwight this morning and then Danny almost died.”

“What? Danny almost died??”

“Died… killed… is there a difference?”

“Well, one of those lands you behind bars.”

Jim grins and points at her, “See, that is exactly why he’s not six feet under right now. I couldn’t think of what I would say to my parents after I ended up in jail. ‘He was teasing me’ didn’t seem like it would cut it.”

“He must have been giving you a hard time if you we’re on the brink of a murder.”

“You have no idea.”

“Poor thing, remind me to cry you a river tonight.”

He smiles, “I knew I could count on you.”

She giggles, sometimes he was just so cute, especially with that lopsided grin. “So, what did Danny say that almost got him killed?”

Jim shakes his head. He couldn’t tell her Danny’s comment, couldn’t explain why they were talking about her and Roy and foot massages. So, instead, motions over to the soda machine before he says, “Oh, you know. The same old stuff.”

She follows behind him, Singer on her heels. “Must have been pretty good if you won’t tell me.”

“Oh, it was. What about you? Anything new?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out some change, dropping them into the machine for a coke for her, and then again for a grape soda for him.

She takes the coke, appreciating that he already knew what she would want. She gestures towards Singer, “Besides this guy running away, not really.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Singer. If he got hit, we both know the car would be the one who’s hurt.”

She laughs and shrugs one shoulder again, “Yeah, I don’t know. He’s just been acting weird lately.”

“You mean with Roy?”

“Roy, me, at the studio. I mean, you know him. He never runs away like this.”

Jim smiles, trying to reassure her that Singer is fine, “He just missed me, that’s all. Plus, he knows I have the good stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess. I was still worried, though.”

“That’s because you’re a woman. Us men are built to not worry.”

Her eyebrow goes up, and she takes a sip of her coke. “I think you’ve been spending too much time with Dwight.”

“Or maybe you’re not spending enough time with him.”

She laughs, “Yeah, okay.”

He hesitates, not wanting to talk about Roy, but knowing that asking her about him would make him seem like he cares, like he’s still her best friend. “So, how are things? With Roy, I mean.”

Her thoughts go back to yesterday’s and then what had happened today. How were they going? “They’re okay. This weekend was alright, but…” she trails off, unsure about how much she actually wants to tell Jim about her feelings towards Roy.

“But?”

“It’s not important.”

“Pam.”

She smiles, “Really, it’s not.”

He studied her for a moment before nodding. He certainly didn’t want to talk about Roy, so if she didn’t either, he wasn’t gonna fight her about it. “Alright. Well, you know if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m always around, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” She rests a hand on his shoulder, trying to ease the tension that had built up since bringing up Roy, “You should get out more, sometimes I get worried about you, too. You could travel, take some exotic trip.”

“And ruin my consecutive streak of Star Trek marathons?”

“Exactly,” she laughs. “Anything is better than consecutive Star Trek marathons. But, hey, if travelling isn’t your thing, you could find something else. Maybe learn an instrument.”

Jim holds his hand up to his chest, letting out a low whistle. “Ouch, Beesly. That was a low blow.”

Her eyes light up, “As good as Danny’s?”

He hums, considering it. “No, his was better.”

“Darn.”

“What can I say, you’re just a rookie.”

She rolls her eyes, but then leans back against the shelf and takes a moment to evaluate him. She’s missed talking to him the past couple weeks. Almost forgot how much fun it is to just talk to him. “You know, you’re pretty easy to get along with.”

He downs the rest of his soda and then chuckles, “Why, because I’m so easy to tease?”

“No, because you’re such a good sport about it.”

“You know,” he says while pretending to scrape off some grease from under his fingernail, “it’s funny you say that because Kelly said the exact same thing to me the other day.”

Pam paused, unsure if she had heard him right. “Kelly?”

“Yeah, this past weekend, when we went out on our date.” He looks over at the clock on the wall, “Oh, shoot, that reminds me, I’m supposed to pick her up in a few minutes.”

She couldn’t have hidden the shock on her face even if she wanted to. “Wait. You and Kelly?”

“Yeah, she’s great. We had a fun time.” He starts to walk around her, “I’m really glad you stopped by, but I should get changed before picking her up.”

She grabs his wrist, pulling him back towards her. “Hold up. You and Kelly?

He looks at her solemnly for a moment before winking, “Had you going there, didn’t I?”

She drops his wrist, crossing her arms over her chest. “No.”

“C’mon, Bees. Just a little?”

“No.”

“Admit it.”

She rolls her eyes, “Fine. A little bit.”

He grins, “Good. Now we’re even.”

 

***

 

After confirming that he really hadn’t gone out with Kelly and that he didn’t need to go pick her up, Pam said goodbye to Jim and made her way back to the studio with Singer. She opens the door to Jo’s surprised face. “What?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to come back, that’s all. Roy stopped by and asked for you, I told him you went to go get Singer from the garage. You didn’t see him?”

“No, when did he stop by?”

“Just like a minute ago, I thought he had gone to find you. But you should have seen him on your way back here.”

She frowns a little and shakes her head, “No, I didn’t. Hm, weird.”

“You could probably still catch him if you went now.”

Pam glanced back at the door, debating if she should go. A moment passed, though, making the decision for her. Jo spoke up, acting as if the previous conversation had never happened. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. Everyone complained today. If it wasn’t the kids complaining about sharing, it was the parents complaining about everything else under the sun.”

“Must be a full moon or something,” Pam mutters, “Everyone is acting strange today.”

“Even Jim?”

“No, Jim’s always the same.”

Jo nods and then walks over to her desk and goes into the bottom drawer, pulling out a silver flask. “Well, I think it’s about time to shake off the cobwebs, you want to join me?”

“Yes, please. I’ll lock the door.”

By the time Pam has locked the door and turned back around, Jo is sitting on the couch near the front door. Having kicked off her shoes, her socked feet are up on the coffee table, and she’s leaning back, as if on some tropical vacation and not in a small art studio in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Pam sits down next to her, kicking off her own shoes and tucking her feet underneath her. Jo hands her the flask without opening her eyes and Pam takes a long sip before handing it back.

They sit in silence for a minute before Jo looks over at Pam. “So, how is Jim doing? He hasn’t stopped by recently.”

“He’s good. Just working, fighting with Danny, the usual stuff.” Her face lights up and she rests a hand on Jo’s arm, “Oh, did you hear that he’s going to be playing at Poor Richard’s with Scrantonicity in a few weeks?”

Jo rolls her head back, closing her eyes once again, “Hurray.”

Pam laughs, “Be nice. Scrantonicity is a pretty good band, even if they only cover The Police. Maybe it will actually lead somewhere.”

“We both know it won’t.”

“He’s not that bad.”

Jo sits up and looks at Pam, “Honey, I know he’s your best friend and all, but I’ve seen that boy naked more times than I could count. He’s family, I love him to death. But he is that bad. I hate to say it, and I know he hates to hear it, since it’s all he’s ever wanted to do, but that’s the truth. Like the good book says, “Suffer not the terrible singers, for they shall ruin the ears.”

“The good book does not say that.”

“Well, it should. And it probably would, if Jim were around back then.”

Pam shrugs, “Well, it makes him happy, so it makes me happy.”

Jo offers a small smile and reaches out to squeeze Pam’s hand. “You’re a kind soul, Pam.” She leans back again, but keeps her gaze on her. “So, how are things with you and Roy? You barely mentioned him since you got back from coffee this morning.”

“It’s going okay, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“It’s going okay,” Pam repeated.

Jo studied Pam’s face for a moment, “So, why didn’t you go looking for him after I told you he was looking for you?”

Pam drops her gaze, suddenly transfixed with a small hole in her pantyhose. “I don’t know, I just had already seen him today.”

“Ah, I guess that makes sense.”

Pam grabs the flask out of Jo’s hand and takes another long sip, the alcohol burning her throat more than it did the first time. She looks back at Jo. She can’t talk to Jim about Roy, and she didn’t even tell Karen her full feelings on Sunday when she stopped by, but she could talk to Jo. Jo would get it, she thinks.

“You know that locket Roy gave me?”

“How could I forget, P.B.?”

She gives a small smile before sighing, “Well, the problem was that I didn’t wear it today.”

“So what?”

“That’s what I thought. But Roy was like, really upset about it. Offended, almost. He tried to pretend he wasn’t, but I could tell.”

“If he got offended over that, remind me to never offer him some of my potato salad.” When Pam doesn’t answer, she waves her hand, “Okay, so what? He got offended. Everyone’s got their quirks, maybe this is one of his. There could be worse things, believe me. You have to compare today to everything else he’s done, see the bigger picture. You’ve been on what – three dates now?”

“Four, if you count this weekend as two.”

“And you’ve said he’s been nice?”

“So far, yes.”

“Then maybe today was just a bad day. Didn’t get enough sleep or something happened at work. Who knows?”

Pam nodded, drumming her fingers against the flask. “Maybe.”

Jo takes the flask out of Pam’s hands this time and takes a sip before resting a hand on Pam’s knee. “Don’t worry about it too much, sweetie. As long as he didn’t go overboard, it’s not a big deal.”

“So just let it go?”

Jo points at her, “I didn’t say that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t completely ignore it, either. If it’s bugging you this much, then keep it in the back of your mind. But don’t let one little tantrum ruin something that could be good. You just have to follow your intuitions with these kinds of things, trust your gut.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Jo smiles, “I usually am.” She offers Pam the flask again and when she shakes her head, Jo takes a final sip then closes the flask, setting it down on the table. “So, four dates, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Will there be a fifth?”

Pam shrugs, “He hasn’t asked, but I think he will.”

“That’s a strange way of answering the question.”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t say what you were going to say if he asked.

Pam looked away, “No, I guess I didn’t.”

 

***

 

Roy is sitting on her porch when she pulls into the driveway. Singer gave a low growl but stops when she turns off the car and looks at him. “Stay here until I say so, okay?” She unbuckles her seatbelt and puts her hand on the door handle before looking at Singer again, “And be good.”

She steps out of the car and walks over to the porch, Roy having stood up once she was in the driveway.

“Hi, Pam.”

“Hello, Roy.” She wraps her jacket around herself a little tighter, “What are you doing here?”

He glances behind her, as if considering his answer. He looks back down at her, “I had a few minutes and thought I would drop by. I tried to catch you at the studio, but Jo said you had left.”

“I had to go get Singer, he went over to the garage with Jim.”

Roy nodded, “Jo had mentioned that, too. I couldn’t stay, though. The office is really busy right now and I had to drop off some blueprints before Philbin left for the day. I actually have to leave right after this, but I needed to see you and apologize for this morning. I was thinking about it, and I realized that I went a little overboard.” He smiled a little, though he looked genuinely guilty, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

“I know. No excuses, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

She pushes a loose curl behind her ear, “Were you really that upset that I wasn’t wearing it?”

“No, trust me. It wasn’t that.”

“Then what was it?”

He looks away again, staring at her Jeep for a moment before looking down at his shoes. “I just had a really nice time this weekend, and I thought you had to. But then when I saw that you weren’t wearing the locket, I thought maybe you didn’t have as good of a time as I thought. I thought maybe I had let you down somehow.” He looks back up at her, “You don’t know how much I’ve enjoyed our time together. Can you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Pam thought for a moment before nodding, “Yeah.”

“I knew you’d understand.” He steps down off her porch. “Well, like I said, I gotta get going.”

“Okay,” she said simply, forcing a smile.

He walked around her, and she was thankful that he didn’t try to kiss her. She waits until he starts his car before calling for Singer and heading inside.

Chapter End Notes:
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