I do not own The Office: U.S. Version.

I have watched it enough though.

Jim Halpert Confesses to Murder

They're in the break room of the Dundee Mifflin Paper Company, Scranton branch.

And they, in a true moment of rarity, are alone at work.

And eating lunch.

Sandwiches, of course.

Ham and cheese for Jim. Turkey and cheese for Pam.

Single serving chip cellophane bags.

Sour cream and onion. Cool Ranch.

Popped soda cans.

Grape. Lemon.

All in the process of being slowly consumed and imbibed.

And Jim Halpert is suddenly moved . . .

"Um, okay, so I have to tell you something."

. . . to finally confess.

The woman across from him doesn't seem too alarmed.

No fear or worry cross her face.

Only a eyebrow, barely raised.

As she waits for his self-decided confession.

And crunches another chip.

"I kind of . . . hung Roy."

He hasn't been watching CSI.

Or Dexter for that matter.

Not really his thing.

So she feels relatively calm about the words that have just passed his lips.

Still . . .

"I'm gonna need a little more information than that, Halpert."

And Jim grins.

"Do you remember when you came to the party at my apartment?"

She nods.

"And my room?"

She grins, flashes those eyes.

Nods.

And Jim plunges onward.

"Above my desk there was a pegboard. With all kinds of stuff on it?"

Again, confirmation.

"Well . . ."

Deep breath.

"I kind of . . . made a mini Roy doll and tied a little rope . . ."

Cleared throat.

". . . and, uh, hung him from my pegboard."

Nervous scratch . . .

"Kind of a, uh, . . ."

. . . of the nose.

". . . you know . . . voodoo witch doctor type thing."

Now Pamela Morgan Beasley is aghast.

Bewildered.

Incredulous.

"You hung my fiancé?"

Jim nods.

Perhaps he shouldn't have told.

"Why?"

She doesn't sound mad.

Just . . . confused.

And Jim begins to quietly stammer.

"I was . . . frustrated. You were so sweet and kind and amazing and . . . had all this amazing life and potential inside you and he just never saw you or appreciated you for what you were. I just . . . I just . . . needed an outlet or something."

And then he runs out of words.

But Pam doesn't.

"So you strung him up on a pegboard in your bedroom?"

Jim tries to smile.

And doesn't quite make it.

"Yeah."

Tries again.

He's nothing if not persistent.

"I was just so focused on staying calm with you finally in my bedroom that I kind of forgot all about it until you left."

He chuckles self-depreciatively.

"Then when I went upstairs to go to bed later I saw it and almost had a full-blown panic attack."

And then he falls silent again.

For a moment.

She's quiet too.

And he just can't take it.

"Are you mad?"

And she doesn't answer that question but voices one of her own.

"What did you do with it? Do you still have it?"

He shakes his head, casting his gaze down at the soda can he's nervously playing with.

"What happened to it?"

And he swallows hard, tries not to get too serious.

"Oh, I, uh, . . ."

And then releases his final sin into the air.

". . . threw it out the window on the way to Stamford."

And she stares.

"You didn't."

He tries to huff 'yeah' but his voice fails him.

"Oh, Jim, Jim, . . ."

Her voice is worried, concerned.

Disappointed, even.

". . . why would you hang my fiancé and then dispose of his body along the highway where any state trooper could so easily find the evidence? That's so irresponsible and sloppy of you. You know Dwight monitors the police frequencies. We're going to have to run off to Canada now and I don't have any vacation days saved up."

He blinks, totally left-fielded by this surprise play.

And then Pam gifts him that cheeky grins he finds insanely, helplessly sexy.

I love this woman so much.

He's thinking of stealing the quickest of kisses-

"Beasley, have I told you today that-"

"Hey, guys, what're we talking about?"

"Oh. Hey, Kev. We were just, uh, talking about, uh-"

He really has no idea what he's going to say next, that mischievous sparkle in her beautiful eyes tend to have that effect on him.

When she swoops in again, casual and confident.

Even taking a swig of her soda as she does so.

"That party at Jim's house when he invited the whole office. Do you remember?"

Kevin nods his generous face in approval.

"Oh yeah. The karaoke that night was off the chain."

". . . making love with each other, ah ha . . ."

"Yes, Kev. Yes, it was."