Sidewalks passed them by in a blur of monotonous colors. The night was unusually dark, the streets largely empty, lit only by the odd street light and dull sliver of waning moon. The roads ahead of them had turned raven black, stretching out broadly under a carbon sky. Despite the chill, Pam had the window down, relishing the feel of the fresh wind rushing over her hot skin and gently blowing through her curls, lifting them into the air. The night was alive with a raw energy that the empty roads could not dampen.

She was safe. She was free.

She'd done it, actually done it. There was no going back for her now, she had successfully closed the lid on the coffin of her relationship with Roy. She would not be afraid of him any longer, she promised herself this. She was going to be okay.

"Almost there." Jim said mysteriously, turning the wheel left. "Stay sharp."

Pam was stumped as to where he could be taking her. There she was, in her old jeans and a sweatshirt; she was hardly dressed for a ball. Under normal circumstances she probably wouldn't even step inside a Chili's dressed like she was. Jim hadn't gone much dressier either – although he did exude an aura of excitement about him that thoroughly piqued her curiosity. Stubbornly refusing to give her any clues as to their destination, she had noticed his eyes, brighter than usual and smiled to herself. She felt good right then.

She knew more than likely this joy she was feeling was a knee jerk reaction to her getting the final restraining order granted. Probably when the high wore off and reality sunk in the sadness would be waiting with steel claws. She knew she had a long way to go. She didn't know how she felt about Roy. A part of her had loved him. Parted of her feared him. Worst of all, she was realizing that a significant part of her hated him, had been controlled by him. There was a war inside of her, all sides attributed to Roy Anderson, she wasn't fool enough to believe one positive, bittersweet step would be enough to lay down all weapons. Tomorrow she went away. She would think no further than that; couldn't think further than that. The future was in darkness, but yet in the darkness she sensed a promise of her future.

"What you said earlier…." Jim said, drawing her out of her thoughts. "About dropping the charges."

Pam looked pointedly out the window at the passing streets, her good mood evaporating. She didn't answer him.

"I think it's really decent of you to want to do that for Roy." he said.

"You do?" she replied suspiciously, not moving her eyes from the window.

"I really do," he said truthfully. "It's what's so great about you, you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You even have room in your heart for compassion for Roy. It's what makes you you."

Pam turned away from the window, dropping her hands into her lap morosely. "I don't feel much like me anymore." she said, her tone flat.

"I think we need to get you back to the basics, Beesly." Jim looked at her. "You've been lost in Roy's shadow for too long."

"It just doesn't seem important anymore." she slumped in her seat, her shoulders drooping forward.

"You are important." Jim said, pulling over.

Sighing heavily, she tilted her head down. "It's all meaningless. That's what keeps coming to me. When I was a kid everything was magical and exciting. I used to be happy when I was painting, or hanging out with my mom or Penny. I used to really look forward to the first cup of coffee in the morning. I looked forward to whenever it was really cold out and you'd bring me hot chocolate at my desk. The little things like that made me feel alive." she shook her head. "None of it makes any sense anymore, doesn't mean anything."

"Of course it does."

"Not really. Ten minutes ago I was feeling great." She scoffed. "Now look at me, not even thirty and I've messed everything up so badly."

"Hey." Jim frowned. "You didn't mess up. Roy did. It's not your fault."

Pam looked up at him, her inner eyebrows raised. The corners of her mouth twitched. "Then why do I feel so bad?" she croaked out helplessly.

"It's going to take time." Jim said, eyeing her sadly. "You gotta stop punishing yourself."

"What do you mean?" A vulnerable, naked look crept across her face.

Jim tilted his head forward and turned to meet her eyes. "Blaming yourself. Not taking care of yourself. Not eating, pretending you're fine and have everything under control." Jim tapped the steering wheel lightly with his index finger. "Letting Roy off the hook." he added quietly.

Pam stared back at him in horrified silence, her eyes widening. Her facial muscles flexed and tightened, her eyes furious and hurt.

"I don't mean like that," he said quickly, glancing at her expression. "He's gotta own the blame. It's not your fault."

Her hands moved to the hem of her sweatshirt, nervously clenching and twisting it around her fingers. She was no longer looking at him, her eyes resting vacantly on her lap.

He watched her quietly a moment, debating with himself whether to continue. He knew he was treading a fine line - she was certainly on fragile ground – but he knew her well enough to know that compassion was only one of her motivating factors here. Jim sighed softly. "I've been kind of worried about you. You know as well as I do – I was there after all at the police station with you – you know that you can't drop charges against Roy. That's not really what this is about, is it?"

Jim heard a hushed sniff from his right. He turned his head, hoping that she wasn't crying, but her hair had fallen over her face effectively blocking his view.

"I know that. I don't have to help them put him away." she finally replied.

"But you do understand he is going away and that's not your decision? It's up to the prosecutor to press charges."

She closed her eyes. "I know."

Jim cleared his throat, speaking as gently as he could. "I know you're not ready to accept what he's done to you yet. I know this has been really hard on you. But letting Roy off like that won't change the fact that it did happen."

The silence in the small car was heavy. Pam's right foot was bouncing up and down nervously, anxiety radiating off her in waves. She gave a small, brief nod of her head in response.

"I don't want to have to go through it all again." she mumbled.

"Have you ever stopped going through it?" he said, knowing that wasn't what she meant. "Hey. All I'm saying is Roy shouldn't get the last word. It's your turn now."

"Yeah." she said brokenly, her voice hoarse.

Jim looked straight ahead at the dark road. "Walking away from this won't validate that feeling of yours that this is all your fault. You can't make it your fault. Roy needs to accept that he's to blame, and so do you. You didn't cause the abuse and you couldn't have stopped it."

She let go of the sweatshirt, dropping her hands to her side. "Maybe you're right." she said after a pause.

It was a start.

Jim smiled. "Think it over, anyway. Won't think any less of you whatever you do, okay?" He reached for the door handle. "You ready then Beesly?"

Pam sat forward, looking around in sheer surprise. "Ready for what? Where are we?" she said in bewilderment as he climbed out of the drivers side and turned back to face her.

"Follow me." he said cheerfully, not answering her question.

-TO-

Pam trailed cautiously behind him as he led them both through a small grassy area before they were stepping on to uneven path again. The heavy darkness obscured much of her view and she looked around warily, unable to catch her bearings. It did seem a rather dubious direction Jim was leading them in, not least away from the comfort of the lit street and sidewalk.

But she did not voice her thoughts as she followed, narrowly dodging a collision with Jim as he stopped in front of her. She looked up in surprise on seeing that they had come to a door. She supposed it was the back door of the building they had walked around. Surveying the darkness around them, she had a strong feeling they were not supposed to be there. Call it intuition or just the whole mysterious atmosphere of sneaking around in the dark, it just didn't feel right. Still, she stood behind Jim, intrigued as a beam of light burst upwards through the dark, revealing Jim's features. Quickly he tapped on the cell phone in his hand.

"Jim?" She whispered. It was so dark out. She had never seen a sky so black and stark; hanging over their heads like a gothic god of darkness. She shuffled closer to stand next to Jim.

"It's-" he started, then the door to the building swung open and strong yellow light surrounded them.

"Hey, Halpert!" a friendly voice cheered. Pam blinked, the brightness of the light disorienting in contrast to the night her eyes had adjusted to. She watched on as the two men greeted each other, Jim and the man who was holding the door open, smiling widely. Jim obviously knew him well. There was some brief joking around between the pair, then Jim stepped inside the building, motioning for Pam to follow him.

The man who had opened the door was tall and dark haired and she knew him. She didn't know how she knew him, from where or why, but she knew that she knew him. Something about his face was familiar, and that messy mop of dark hair was unforgettable.

"You remember Pam, don't you?" Jim said to the man.

"Sure I do. Still looking fine, Miss Beesly." the man chuckled.

Pam blushed. "Oh, um…"

She heard Jim laugh from the other side of her and the corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile. She didn't know what the pair of them were talking about, there were few words, some laughing and a lot of pointing.

"Round the corner there, on the left. Don't go any further than that or it's my ass that gets fried. Capiche?" the man spoke cheerfully enough, despite the dire warning. Jim nodded warmly at him, thanking him again for god-knows-what. All this mystery. Completely flummoxed, she allowed Jim to lead her around the corner as the man had directed.

"Oh, Dunder Mifflin." she said thoughtfully. Jim stopped and pivoted round to face her, wearing a bemused smile.

"Huh? No, not there."

"No, I mean, that's where I know that guy from. He was our old security guard."

"Briefly." Jim replied. "He also owed me one."

It was quite a long way through the dimly lit hall area. Pam wandered behind Jim almost timidly, trying to make sense of the little she could see around her. Big square and rectangular shapes in the darkness were visible over the other side of the hall.

"Wait." She stopped walking, watching for Jim to turn around. "Is that…. This is an art gallery?"

Smiling mischievously, Jim nodded. "It is indeed. This one has something the others don't though. You gotta see it."

Taken with the realization that Jim had somehow got them into a closed art gallery, thousands of paintings and watercolors and sculptures at her fingertips, she could only stare wondrously around.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed, throwing her shoulders up and laughing. "Guess it pays to know the man with the keys, right?"

Jim beamed, pleased with how happy it seemed to have made her. "This isn't it, yet, Pam." he said, lazily putting an arm around her shoulders and steering her forward. "This way. In here."

Jim led her into a small, softly lit room. "There's an exhibition in here that none of the other galleries have." He stepped back quietly, watching carefully.

At first she stood and said nothing. Her mouth hung slightly open as she moved her eyes around the area, looking up and down in sheer amazement. She couldn't believe it. Mounted. Framed. Brown frames, gold frames. Her flowers, her car. The tree outside her old back yard.

"Th-" she stopped herself, staring intently. "Those are mine?" she said, awe in her voice, staring at the display in front of her. "How did you….." she trailed off.

Jim had been watching her nervously, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Those," she pointed to the top row of pictures. "Were in my desk."

Jim looked sheepish. "Not anymore."

She lightly punched his arm and stepped back. She stood still, absorbing all that was in front of her. Wordlessly her pupils moved from painting to picture, her inner eyebrows raising upwards. A warmth spread across her chest, a euphoric sensation that was overwhelming and unfamiliar to her.

From top to bottom covering a whole side of a wall, her watercolors, her paintings, pictures that she had put herself into with love and dedication. To the right of those were a large handful of colored photographs. Pam cheering at the Dundies, Pam and Oscar laughing together at somebody's birthday party, Pam at her desk smiling. Picture after picture. Her paintings. Her smile. So much emotion was flooding through her with such intensity she thought she might choke. She couldn't move. No words would reach her tongue. Her art. On a gallery wall, where Starry Night was about fifty feet away gracing another wall. Warm tears sparkled in her eyelids and fluttered in her eyelashes, raw emotion stark and beautifully naked on her face. Slowly the corners of her mouth quirked upwards forming a tender, touching hint of a smile beneath the gently red rimmed eyes.

"It's… " she faltered, lump rising in her throat.

Jim was smiling as he watched quietly, her eyes wide and brimming with intense awe at the display. Her cheeks had turned pink, her expression endearing, a visible blend of swirling emotions that transformed her whole being into a beautifully sad picture.

"Pam," Jim moved next to her, taking hold of her elbow. "Look at this one." he pointed at the two of them standing beside a garish looking Christmas tree in the office, an image from a few years ago. "I wanted to give you a going away gift."

They looked happy in the color photograph, Jim holding a cup of punch with a trademark devious grin, his eyes on Pam. She looked at the photo closely, studying the younger version of herself, a whole, happier version, a girl who was captured forever in silent laughter and celebration. She tried to think how long ago the photo had been taken. Five, six years? The thin hand wrapped around a paper cup showed no signs of an engagement ring. Old school Pam, another girl long gone.

Gently Pam reached out and traced a finger around the painting left of the photo, her portrait of their office building. It was all so real, so right there. Michael's car, Jim's car, her car. Their building, nestled under the bluest sky, the same building she and Jim had been introduced to each other in.

She turned to Jim wordlessly. The tears still shimmered in her eyes, her skin blotchy and flushed red and pink.

Jim observed her silently a moment before slipping his arm around her shoulders. "See this-" he ran his index finger over a photograph of her laughing at Michael in a Santa Suit. "Roy can't take this away from you. See that smile? This is the real Pam. This is who you are. This is the way everyone who knows you really sees you, talented, funny, passionate and happy."

She still did not speak a word, however emotions flowed through her so deeply, reaching and touching Jim next to her like a fiery hot burst of wind. Her lower lip was quivering, tears threatening to spill down her face.

"You okay?" he said, both eyebrows raised in worry.

She nodded weakly, but her face broke with emotion. Jim hurried forward to her, his arms outstretched. Pam went to him without hesitation, folding herself into his chest and sliding her arms around him tightly.

"Thank you." she whispered shakily. She sunk into the warmth radiating from his body, relishing the comfort of the familiar scents and his touch, which always made her blood warm again somehow. She wrapped herself against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart close to hers and his strong, protective arms circled around her vulnerable, shaking body.

"Oh, Jim, please come visit me at my parents some time if I'm gone too long. I think I might miss you too much otherwise."

Jim didn't respond, but she felt his arms tighten around her. She squeezed him back, not wanting to leave the safe space she had with him.

"You've given me back a piece of myself tonight." she told him quietly.

"You're a great person, you just needed to be reminded of that." he replied.

Pam drew back a little. "What was that? She said, hearing a noise coming from the hallway. Footsteps floated past them, a metallic jangling echoed away from them.

"It's just Dan's big feet." he told her, smiling at the look on her face. She relaxed a little, until a loud crashing sound barreled into the room, causing her to jump violently, clutching at Jim in fright.

"Easy." he laughed. She looked up at him indignantly, yet unwilling to let go of him. She shuffled to the side of him, readjusting herself to put her arms around his neck.

"You," she mumbled, lifting her head back to look at him. "Give the most indestructible hugs, Jim Halpert."

Jim chuckled at her softly. She was feeling warm in the small room, with it's dry, fusty air.

"Pam?" Jim said, catching her eye. She waited, facing him yet he didn't say anything more. The heat in the room grew until she felt her skin was burning up, then the heat between them grew as something silent and unspoken but yet so loud bounced from his body to hers and then they were staring at each other, eyes dilating and suddenly her mouth found his.

Her world dropped away. It was a fiery, passionate kiss, her head tilted to the side, Jim's lips strong and demanding but never forceful. It was a kiss of equal measure, they moved in perfect sync, sparks flying all around them.

Jim's hands ventured up her back softly and into her hair, gentle, loving hands so difference from the rough, punishing hands of Roy. They moved together, going deeper and deeper together until Pam drew back from him, taking in shallow breaths. Their eyes opened, Pam's filled with confusion and fear while Jim looked back at her openly, his clear green eyes radiating nothing but love.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." Jim said.

Pam looked at him with uncertainty. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Jim moved his head forward, intending to kiss her again.

Pam put a weak hand against his chest. "Jim, stop." she said faintly, pushing him away carefully. Her head began to swim in confusion. What was happening, what had they done? A look crossed over Jim's eyes, one she did not fail to register in her disorientation.

"Pam…. You gotta know…" he said, picking up her hand off of his chest and holding it tight between his own.

She shook her head. "Jim-"

"I was just… I'm in love with you."

Pam fell quiet. "What?"

Her tone was flat, without life and completely unlike her own voice. He loved her?

"I'm really sorry if that's weird for you to hear, but I needed you to hear it. Probably not good timing, I know that. I just…" Jim said, rubbing her hand between his, noticing the prickling line of goosebumps spotting over her arms.

"What are you doing? What do you expect me to say to that?" She replied dully.

He stared at her pleadingly. "I'm in love with you. It's real."

She gazed at him, her face hard and impenetrable, then sudden fat tears splashed onto her cheeks. Jim reached up to wipe them away, but Pam caught his hand and lowered it. "Oh god, I can't… I can't…"

"Yeah." he replied flatly, looking down at the floor.

Pam breathed in heavily, her stomach turning. This was Jim. He wasn't joking with her. One look at his face told her how serious he was; contagious with pain, his eyes were unshielded in burning love and overwhelming hurt.

"You don't understand. Jim, I am so grateful for every-"

"Come on. I don't wanna do that. I wanna be more than that."

Pam eyed him with pure sadness. "I can't." she repeated. "I'm not good for anyone. I'd make you miserable and I can't do that to you. Not you."

"That's Roy talking. Don't do that." he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. It was then that she saw, glistening lines streaked down his cheeks, tears that she had caused.

"Jim….."

"Not your fault. I messed up."

Pam's head was whirling. What the hell was happening? "Jim, please. It's not you. I just need some time. Everything is happening so fast."

"I'm sorry. I just needed you to know." he said, unable to meet her eyes.

She cried openly, tears falling freely. "Jim, You gotta know how much you mean to me."

"Don't do that." he repeated. "Either you love me or you don't."

Pam understood the question between the words. Everything was hazy. It had been such a long, tormenting day. She didn't know how to answer that. She didn't want to lose him. She didn't know what she wanted. This was her fault. She'd kissed him. She pulled him in with one hand only to shove him away with the other.

"I can love you, I can love you like Roy never could." he said.

Pam looked sad. "I can be hurt by you." she said, her voice trembling.

Jim riled. "Come on. I'm not Roy. I'd hurt myself a million times over before I'd ever hurt you. You know that."

"I just… I'm sorry. This is all wrong. I.. I'm sorry.. I can't.." She backed away. Instinctively Jim reached for her, wanting to comfort her but he moved too fast, she flinched away from him hurriedly, looking up at him with a betrayed look on her face.

"I'm sorry." he said quietly.

"It's not you." She repeated brokenly, desperately before turning and flying out the door, hurrying up the hall and out of his sight.