“I love you.”

Those words… they punch me in the gut.  In a good way.  I don’t know how that’s possible, but that’s what happened.

I move my head from Pam’s shoulder, and she does the same, so I can look into her eyes.

“…Did you just say—?”

“Yes,” she interrupts, “I love you, Jim.”

Her kind, green eyes, her beautiful, loving smile, her flowing, auburn hair… she has never looked more beautiful than this moment.  This funny, warm, kind, amazing woman — perched on my lap, in my arms, the happiest she’s ever been despite her tears — just said she loves me.

Pam Beesly loves me.

I don’t know how else to respond but pull her into a deep kiss, which she gladly reciprocates as she wraps her arms around my neck, my arms around her middle.  I always imagined this moment, but my imagination could never do this justice.

This is far beyond what Casino Night could ever be.

We separate, foreheads touching, as I softly say, “I love you, Pam,” while wearing the stupidest grin, “I always have.”  I can tell she’s being honest, but I just… I need to know, “Honestly?  You really love me?”

With another kiss, she goes, “Yes, I really, honestly, love you.”

That stupid grin is permanently stuck on my face.  “So… are we doing this?”

“Doing what?” she asks.

“You know, ‘going steady’.”

She snickers, “Okay, first off, nobody says that anymore,” she jokingly points out, “And secondly, the two of us crying in each other’s arms and professing our love wasn’t enough of an indication for you?”

“I just like to double-check,” I say with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes, “Shut up and kiss me.”

“Gladly.”

We kiss once again and just full-on make out like a couple of lovesick teenagers, repeating “I love you” and other sweet nothings over and over.  There’s a part of me that wants us to do more, you know, more, but now’s not the time.  This is enough and this is perfect.  Everything is perfect.

We break apart after a few minutes, breaths heavy and lips sore.  She pauses, “Um, I need to confess something.”

“What is it?”

“I brought an overnight bag over here with me.”  Oh my God, she wants to spend the night with me?  “I mean, I know that’s forward of me and extremely awkward, I just wanted to spend the weekend with you if we actually got together and—”

I calm her frazzled nerves with a kiss on the forehead.  “Go get it.”

Her smile widens as she gets off of me, grabs her keys, and walks to her car.

As she walks out the door, I sit up and give myself a minute to take in everything that’s happened.

Pam Beesly loves me.
She broke up with Roy.
She’s moved on and she’s happy.
Neither of us has to hold back anymore.
She drove to Stamford to see… oh, shit.

I live in Stamford now.  And she lives in Scranton.

I’m a goddamn idiot.

As she enters in with her stuff, she notices me rubbing my head with my hand as I try to figure out what to do.  “What’s wrong?” she asks as she sets her stuff down and sits next to me.

“I… I live in Stamford.”

She realizes the weight of my words as she sits next to me and repeats, “You live in Stamford.”  She rubs my back for comfort, trying to figure this out herself.

I sigh dejectedly, “What are we gonna do, Pam?”  I’ve never been more desperate.

She purses her lips and then thinks of something: “Pros and Cons list.  Get a notepad.”

Damn, I shoulda thought of that first. “And that’s why you’re the brains of the relationship.”

“So I guess that makes you the brawn?”

“I was gonna say beauty,” I joke as I get up, “but I guess I could be both.”

As she rolls her eyes at me, I go into my room, grab a notepad and marker, and just jot everything down.

• no Dwight
• better pay and benefits
• possibility of getting demoted (having to regain clients)
• less chaotic work environment
• add to resume to get a marketing job (preferably sports)
• work ass off to leave DM
• make a better life for us myself
• can always find a way to get Pam here
• long-distance relationship (temporary)

• PAM
• no Andy
• entertaining conference room ‘meetings’
• more opportunities even if demoted
• no struggles of long-distance relationship
• PAM (again)

As we both look at the list, she pays close attention to the last three points on the Stamford column.  It makes her eyes water.  “You… you’re really thinking about this long-term, aren’t you?”

I’m immediately embarrassed, “Yeah, I… I know that’s extremely weird considering we’ve been together for all of… y’know, 15 minutes, I just—”  She silences me with her lips, and cups my cheeks when she pulls apart.

“You gotta pen on you?” she asks, “Because here or not, you’re mine, Halpert.  And we’re gonna make sure of it.”

I just shake my head, surprised (and slightly turned on), “Wow, aren’t you Miss ‘Fancy New Beesly’?”

God, I missed that giggle, “Not the catchiest title, but I’ll take it.”

“It’s better than the one I have in Stamford.”

“What is it?”  She’s all too eager to know.

“Oh, there’s a story behind it.”

“Well tell me!”

“Not yet, but I can assure you it’ll not be worth it.”

• No living together until engaged
• no financial help until living together (unless for small things)
• 1-year plan MINIMUM Agreed
• Trust Is Key amen
• don’t contact ALL the time We’ll make a schedule later cool
• list of people who can know about us: Family, close friends
• list of people who can not know yet: doc crew (they’ll find out eventually) Yeah…
• list of people who will NEVER know:
• DM Corporate
• ROY (FUCK no)
• DM Stamford
• DM Scranton
• DM in general
• MICHAEL SCOTT (He’ll find out eventually) yeah…

• Frequent visits
• Local restaurants
• Learn local Art + History cuz you’re so cultured Screw off
• METHOD: Pam finds a stable job in Stamford + can afford cheap apt within price range after art classes
  • 2 semesters: Fall ’06 + Spring ’07 (Also stupid cheap)
  • after all that, world-famous artist :’)
• MIRACLE: possible merger in Stamford (Pam gets better paying job in DM Stamford, then artist)
• Admin Assistant, maybe?

• Philadelphia? Hm, interesting
• New York? too long a game plan
• Schrute Farms? told you I don’t like that joke :p
• METHOD: Philly — Use Johnathan’s connections to help us find stable jobs
• MIRACLE: Schrute Farms — Getting hired to help Mose shovel manure Beesly I swear to god XD

• METHOD: beg for a demotion, essentially
• move back w/ Mark or new apt
• go back to DM Scranton That’d suck eh, won’t be so bad… now <3
• GODLY MIRACLE: (im)possible merger in Scranton (I keep promotion, all hell breaks loose) Honestly one of the better options here agreed

• Phone/IM communication becomes difficult: Handwritten letters oh, neat
• Arguments: Give ourselves time to cool off before we talk it out agreed
• DM Scranton branch closes: merger w/ Stamford or elsewhere, transfer if elsewhere
• If no merger, I move w/ parents, Penny, or Izzy ‘til I’m back on my feet WORST-CASE SCENARIO
• Someone from DM Corporate finds out: fill out EVERY form we need to
• Consult with HR
• Ask to Maintain Privacy YES, that too
• Roy finds out: He’ll just have to deal with it
• Doc crew finds out: tell them we’re not *wanting* to tell anybody yet They’ve kept bigger secrets before
• DM Scranton finds out: let ’em talk, who cares? Fair point
• Michael finds out: run to Puerto Rico, only contact him through yearly postcards XD

I just stare at all this for a sec, taking it all in, wondering how any of this is going to pan out… and scared.  Scared that this will all fall apart and… ah fuck it, I’ll just add it to the Pitfall list:

• Jim desperately wants to return to Scranton:

She just looks at me and, while grabbing onto my hand, then writes her response.

Don’t give up, Jim <3

I just shake my head, “I dunno.”

Dammit, she’s disappointed.  But why?  “Jim—”

“Look, I’ll be fine,” I reassure, “I can y’know, regain clients, get new leads—”

“Jim,” she stops me, “I know that long-distance is gonna be difficult.  For the both of us,” she grips my hand tighter, her confidence somehow cooling me down, “but… I think we can make it work.  You want out of Dunder Mifflin and a better life, and you working here is gonna give you more opportunities.  And…” she pauses, “the last thing I wanna do is hold you back.”

“Hold me back?” I look at her like she’s insane, “Pam—”

“I know that sounds ridiculous, and I know why you accepted the job, but… I just got out of a relationship where I’ve constantly been discouraged from pursuing something more.  I’ve had enough of it, and I’m not doing that to anyone else, especially not you.  You’ve earned this, Jim.  You’re so smart and confident and charming… this is only gonna help, not hurt.”

I sigh, “I have to admit, the benefits are hard to give up,” I hold her hand tighter, “But what about you?  I just got you, Pam, I don’t want to go on without seeing you.”

“You’re not,” she reassures, squeezing my hand in return, “We have Skype and AOL, we’ll call and text all the time,” she gestures to the notepad, “we’ll make our own schedule.  And we’ll figure out a way to live in the same city.  And don’t think I’m not driving here to see you; I have extra money after we split the funds for the wedding.”  Wow, the wedding got shut down that quickly.  “Besides, we won’t be doing all of this forever.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing.  This isn’t the Pam Beesly I’m used to, but I don’t love her any less.  In fact, I love her more now, which is the equivalent of adding numbers to infinity.

And, for a split second, I’m back on the boat.
“Never, ever, ever give up.”

I let out a sigh, my mind made up.  “Okay.  I’m willing to stay here for the time being.  For both of us,” I repeat, “It’s just… I need this to work.”

Hearing the hesitation in my voice, she reaches over and gives me another kiss.  “Jim… if I didn’t need this to work, I wouldn’t have called you in the middle of the night and driven three hours after work just to talk to you.  I wouldn’t have told you the truth about how I felt.  I would’ve pushed you away the moment you tried to kiss me and then claimed that I was drunk.  I would’ve married Roy.”  That last bit gets to her, so I let go of her hand and instead wrap my arm around her shoulders.  She happily scooches closer and, finally, relaxes.  “You’re my best friend and my partner in crime.  I’ve been hiding the truth from you for six years.  No more.  You’re stuck with me, Halpert.”

“And thank God for that,” I respond as I bring her closer to me and touch my lips with hers.

She kisses me back, like she did that night.  “I know you’re scared, and I’m scared too, petrified even,” she admits, “And if it gets too much for either of us and you come back to Scranton, that’s fine, we’d be lucky to have you.  But no matter what, we’re gonna be okay.”

I bring her closer to me, “You’re right.  But can we not discuss it anymore?”

“Let’s not,” she agrees, “This weekend, it’s just you and me.”  She leans into me and holds my middle as I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head.

“You and me.”

After all that brainstorming I decide to whip us both some of my signature grilled ham and cheeses.  Don’t mean to brag, but they’re the best.  Pam doesn’t eat too much of it, but she mentioned how it’s a refreshing meal after fast food.  After that, we talk through everything and let it all go; neither of us needs all of that in our lives anymore.  It’s tough, but more than worth it.  We sit back on the couch and watch some shows I TiVoed; I’m paying more attention to her than I am on the screen, stealing kisses and making her giggle.  As we relax together, I realize I somehow need to get over all the shit I’ve pulled because, by some miracle of God, it led to this.

Thanks again, Michael.

3.04 “Grief Counseling”

It’s the night after the convention.  A cameraperson is stationed in the hallway, hidden behind a plant.  They’re filming right outside Jim’s room from an angle; now that they know, they want a story.

Jan sleepily walks to get ice as she passes Jim’s room.

The door’s cracked, unbeknownst to Jim.

“There’s a wrong amount?”

|“You know what I mean.”|

“No, no I don’t.”

Jan doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she recognizes a voice.  A female one.

Pam Beesly’s.

It’s faint, she’s not there in person.  But Jan can tell it’s her.  She stops, all too curious.

|“Anyway, my favorite thing about him is… he’s always there for me.  Like, even though he’s not here, he’s always there.  You get it, right?”|

“I do, yeah.”

Jan just stands there, secrets slowly revealing themselves to her.  The camera zooms in on her absorbing all of this and processing it.

|“He’s willing to work out of state so that we… we can both pursue what we wanna do.  And do them together one day.  And that just goes to show how much he loves me.”|

Pam’s talking about another guy.  But, unlike Michael or even Josh, Jan can connect the dots.

“Um, actually I-I ran into him, earlier, at the convention.”

|“Yeah?”|

Naturally, the editors added this clip as well.

“Have you given any more thought to the transfer?”

“Oh.  Yeah.”

“Good.  Have you told anyone?”

“No.”
“Well, you should.”

As the couple’s conversation finishes, Jan walks away hurriedly to get her ice.

She now knows.

“Hey, Ryan,” Michael signals, carrying the last of 12 boxes of paper, “Can I get you a pencil from the warehouse?”

“Uh, no thanks, I’m good,” Ryan replies plainly.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’m going down.”

“Oh.”  Yup, it’s this bit.  “Um… Yeah, absolutely.”

“All right, I’ll be right back.”  He goes down the stairs and— wait… there weren’t stairs there before, so how is he doing it?  It’s like they magically came into existence!  Amazing!

Dwight is howling with laughter.  The others find it mildly amusing.

Michael walks back up the stairs that weren’t there before, “There you go.”

“Whoo!” Dwight shouts, “Awesome!”

“Thank you,” Ryan responds plainly.

“You’re welcome,” Michael cordially replies.

“Michael,” Dwight asks enthusiastically, “can you get me a pen from down in the warehouse?”

“Don’t mind if I do!  See you in a minute.”  He goes back down to the warehouse and grabs a pen which was also somehow on Stanley’s desk.  Dwight is quite appreciative.

Pam has a specific request, “Hey Michael,” she asks, “would you get me some coffee from the warehouse?”

Michael’s not sure how to proceed, “There’s coffee in the kitchen, Pam.”

“But the warehouse coffee tastes so much better.”  The others agree; they want to see how this goes.  He manages to get to the warehouse kitchen, grabs the warehouse coffee mug, pours the warehouse coffee in, and walks back up the stairs.  And he finally comes back with the co

“With cream and sugar?”

And back down to the warehouse.

“I am like Bette Midler in For the Boys,” Michael tells the doc crew, “Gotta keep the troops entertained.”

Loss can grab ahold of you and impact you in ways you won’t expect.

Jan calls Michael with some unfortunate news.  [“So, I wanted to let you know that we lost Ed Truck.”]

“O…kay,” Michael responds, not getting it, “Let me see if I have his cell.  Is this the only reason you are calling, Jan?  Or does somebody miss me?”

[“Michael, Ed Truck died over the weekend.”]

For once in his life, he can’t find the words.  “Oh, wow.  He…”

[“Yeah,”] she tells him, genuinely sympathetic, [“And I know… I know he was your boss, so I thought you should know.”]

“Does his family know?”

[“…Yes, they know, Michael.”]

“But I’m the first in the office?”

[“I guess, yes,”] she finds a way to help him cope, [“I think it would be appropriate for you to make an announcement to your team, in case they want to pay their respects.”]

He’s still taking it in, “Okay, yes, sure, I will do that…”

[“Good.”]

“’Cause I’m the first to find out.”  Yup.  “Nobody else knows and it is my responsibility to tell them.”  Indeed.  “Well, good.  How are you holding up?  Want me to come over?”

She hangs up.

“Ed Truck died,” he repeats to the crew, “And it blows.  They say that with grief, time makes it worse, which is bad for me because I found out before anybody so I’ve had more time to be sad.”

At Stamford, Jim walks quietly into Josh’s office, “Heyyy Josh.”

“Oh, Jim!”

“Yeah, can I uh, talk to you about something?”

“Sure.”

Jim sighs, slowly closing the door, giving a grimace to the camera as he does so.

“Last week, someone from corporate told me in a roundabout way that she discovered Pam and I are together.”  He cringes, and sighs out.  “And now we’ll probably need to talk to our CFO about it because this is Dunder Mifflin.  Thankfully, Josh and our HR guy are fine with it, we had the talk, we’re good there, but we would like to avoid an inevitable talk with a certain someone… a certain former employer of mine.”  He purses his lips knowingly.  As if it wasn’t obvious.

“I still wanted to keep Toby informed in case we needed to fill out anything else;” Pam explains to the Scranton crew, “he’s pretty much the only person I can trust in the office with this.  Legally, Michael is supposed to be aware… but every single email Michael gets from Toby goes straight to his recycling bin, so that’s convenient,” she shrugs, “It was hard discussing it with Toby, though.”

Cue footage from last week where she asked about it to Toby, purposefully during Kelly’s lunch break, “we just wanted to know any other company policies that we need to be aware of—”

Toby gently interrupted, “Oh well, y’know, those are only for, y’know… ‘relationships’” he air quotes, “so… i-if this is just a casual thing, there’s… no need, really.”

“Oh,” she paused, “Well, I don’t wanna speak for Jim, but, it’s like pretty official,” she informs, thinking about him.

“Uh-huh.”

A beat.  “So is there anything else, or…?”

“L-let’s just wait and… see what happens,” he ended with a whisper, “y’know?”

Pam pursed her lips.

“It took me 3 more minutes,” she tells the crew in the present.

Later, Michael announces the death of Ed to his coworkers, and reactions are mixed.  Kelly comforts him, Phyllis says he was a good guy, Creed worked with him (he doesn’t remember), and Ryan’s just annoyed he’s making a big show again.  Michael slums back into his office so his other coworkers can comfort him.

No one gets up.

He tries to talk to Pam about it, who was there when it was announced.  A ‘depressed’ Michael needs a hug, which she gives him.  It’s a little too long.

Karen, making the mistake of not getting a price list generated, is embarrassed by Josh; Jim is told to make sure it’s done.  She just rolls her eyes at this.  She needs another sales rep to make sure she does her own damn job?  She’s only flubbed once after years of working here.  And yet Andy still works here.  Josh is either misogynistic or plays favorites.  Most likely both.

“*cough* Suck-up! *cough*”, Andy ‘coughs’, pointing at Jim, “Josh, did you hear what I said?”  Oh, screw off.

The vending machine turns Karen’s day from bad to worse.  “Dammit.”

Jim couldn’t help but overhear, walking by.  “What’s up?”

“Uh, nothing.  They’re just out of Herr’s chips.”

“Oh.”

“But don’t worry about it.  My snack food doesn’t fall under the umbrella of your authority.”  Now my one friend in this office is pissed at me.  Excellent.

He decides to brighten her day because hell, his can’t get any worse, “Well, as your project supervisor today, I have just decided that you require your desired snack food, and I offer you my assistance.”

She can see what he’s doing, so she rolls her eyes playfully, unable to hide her smile, “Well, I can assure you that I will be just as productive with or without my snack food,” the smile widens, “But your offer is certainly appreciated.”  He smiles back as she walks off.

Pam coined the phrase ‘Halpert charm’.  He doesn’t consider himself the most handsome guy; sure one may consider him conventionally attractive, but in his mind, he’s a tall, lanky dork.  Pam makes him feel like the only guy in the room, and that’s all he really cares about, but the one thing he has going for him is that he can charm one’s socks off.  There’s a reason he’s one of the top salespeople in the company, and it’s not because of his looks.

But ‘the charm’ comes with a price, two actually: 1) He’s usually unaware of its effects, and 2) He doesn’t know when to turn it off.

And adding on to the list of Jim’s “This day kinda sucks” list, Hannah Smoterich-Barr from Accounting signals him to her, “Hey Jimmy,” she greets happily, “Want to see some pictures of my baby?”

“Umm… sure.”  Alright, a cute baby.  Happy thoughts.

The proud mama shows off her precious little boy, “Here he is.”

“Aw,” Jim chuckles, “He’s so cute.”

“And here’s his first bath,” she says, “Warning: contains nudity.”

“That’s okay.”  Oh, no, it’s not.  “I’m sorry, is that your husband in the tub with him?”

She suddenly becomes offended, “You think we should have left our baby in the tub alone?”  He just shakes his head.  “Talk to me when you have kids,” she abruptly ends the conversation, storming off in a huff.

“Sounds good,” he responds.  I will never let you near my kids.

Creed is the first one to show up to Michael’s office, knowing the truth about Ed, “It’s a real shame about Ed, huh?”

“Yeah,” Michael comments, “Must really have you thinkin’.”

“About what?”

“The older you get, the bigger the chance is you’re gonna die.  You knew that.”  That’s what age is.

“Ed was decapitated.”

Creed’s announcement is so pointedly presented that it throws Michael and Dwight off.
“What?”
“Really?”

“He was drunk as a skunk, he was flying down Route 6.  He slides under an 18 wheeler.  Pop, it snaps right off.”  Damn.

Michael can’t believe this.  Who knew life could be this short?  That life could be taken this quickly?  Never having the chance to marry.  Have kids.  Build a family.

Dwight offers a different perspective, “That is the way to go.  Instant death, very smart.”

“You know a human can go on living for several hours after being decapitated,” Creed states with confidence.

“You’re thinking of a chicken.”

“What did I say?”

Michael reflects on this to the crew, “That is just not the way a Dunder Mifflin manager should go, I’m sorry.  Alone, out of the blue, and not even have his own head to comfort him.”  Indeed, Michael.

So he (or rather Dwight, because Michael didn’t know how to put it), announces Ed’s decapitation.  As such, he wants all his workers to clear their schedules since a grief counselor will arrive to make sure they know how sad this is.  (One off-color joke from Kevin results in him being called ‘disgusting’ by Michael.)  Dwight astutely points out that they technically already have a grief counselor, Toby.

“No, that can’t be right,” Michael argues.

“Well, I am trained in… grief counseling, but uh… I don’t think that’s what they need right now,” Toby quietly points out, being correct as usual.

“Well, then I guess that makes you about the worst grief counselor in the world, doesn’t it?”  Toby just takes it.  He’s used to it.

Afterward, the Office Love Affair congregates near the vending machines once again.  “Hey,” he greets.

“Hi,” Angela responds.

“If my head ever comes off, I would like you to put it on ice.”

“I do not wanna talk about this.”  The rational response.

“When I die, I wanna be frozen,” Dwight explains to the crew, “And if they have to freeze me in pieces, so be it.  I will wake up stronger than ever because I will have used that time to figure out exactly why I died and what moves I could have used to defend myself better now that I know what hold he had me in.”

Michael doesn’t get it.  MLK has a whole day, yet he didn’t even work here.  Jan tries… so damn hard to get through to him, but to no avail; when she suggests the day off, he refutes it.  He decides on a statue for Ed, then — thanks to Dwight’s comments — a robot.  Has to be 2⁄3 the size, easier to defeat if it turns on the office.

[“What the hell are you two talking about?”] she asks, rightfully impatient.  She has to get to a meeting.

For them.

“Well, we are talking about how to properly honor a man who gave his life as regional manager of this company, Jan.”

Jan’s just… done.  [“You know what, Michael?  I’ve really tried with you today”]
“Mm-hm.”
[“and I have to get to a meeting.”]
“Oh, do you?”
[“So, um”]
“You know who wished they could get to a meeting”
[“I—”]
“is Ed Truck.”
[“So call me when”]
“But Ed Truck can’t”
[“you feel like having”]
“because he is…”
[“a real conversation, goodbye.”]
“DEAD.”
*click*

Meanwhile, Dwight gave the robot Ed Truck a six-foot extension cord so it’ll be unable to chase them.  Michael agrees that’s perfect.

“Anything?” Pam asks Jim from the stairwell on his way back from lunch.

[“Nope.”]  She exhales nervously.  [“Hey, you know we’ll be fine, no matter what happens.”]

“I know… I mean, with this and Michael dealing with Ed, I just wanna go home and sleep.”

[“Well, I’m almost there.  We’ll talk after work.”]

“Cool.”

[“Love you,”] he says sweetly.

“Love you, too,” she returns, just as sweet.

[“Bye.”]
“Bye.”

Jim re-enters the Stamford office, Karen’s snack food in-hand, which he tosses to her.  “Last one they had at the West Side Market.”

She catches them.  “You really didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs as he sits back down, “Well, I did say you required your desired snack food.  I just offered my assistance,” he happily informs, turning back to his computer.

She’s happy she has her chips as she opens the bag.

Very happy.

Andy looks at the pair, an inquisitive look on his face.

“There is def somethin’ goin’ on between Karen and Tuna,” Andy confirms to the crew, “I mean, why else would Josh pick him to be her project supervisor?  …wait.  Jim.  Karen.  J, K.”  He grins and points to the camera in front of him, making a shocking revelation.

Michael’s quite aggressive grieving causes spit to get on Stanley’s face and everyone else to lose patience.  But there’s something wrong with them, because they have lost a member of their family, and all they could think about is work!

Toby, ever the loyal and whimpering HR, decides to take the reins.  Naturally, his advice is sound, he conducts himself well, and he’s available for any questions.  To no ones’ surprise, he is refuted and belittled at every single opportunity by Michael, who wants everyone in that room to understand that they are sad!

“There are five stages to grief,” Michael explains to the crew, “which are… ‘denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance’.  And right now, out there, they’re all denying the fact that they’re sad.”  Yeah, that’s it.  “And that’s… hard.  And it’s making them all angry.”  Yeah, that’s it.  “And it is my job to try to get them all the way through to acceptance.  And if not acceptance, then just depression.  If I can get them depressed, then I’ll have done my job.”  Convenient, he excels at his job.

Later, he’s in the conference room, ready for his exercise, “I am going to throw you this ball,” Michael begins to everyone in the conference room, “When you catch the ball, I want you to say the name of a person very important to you, somebody really special who died, and then I want you to say how they died… and you may cry if you like, that is encouraged.  Let me just start.  Let me show you how this works.  I catch the ball.”

Everyone else just wants to get back to work.

Michael begins his soliloquy, “I lost Ed Truck.  And… it feels like somebody took my heart and dropped it into a bucket of boiling tears,”  Stanley’s bored already.  “…and at the same time, somebody else is hitting my soul in the crotch with a frozen sledgehammer… and then a third guy walks in and starts punching me in the grief bone,”  Dwight can feel this in his soul.  “and I’m crying, and nobody can hear me, because I am terribly, terribly… terribly alone.”

Whoa.

Pam looks at him… tempted to cry herself.  She knows how pointlessly over-the-top he’s acting right now, but she just can’t help but understand where he’s coming from.  Because fate doesn’t have a moral compass.  It does not empathize or care how you feel.  And it’s unyielding.  Death could come at any moment, be it life… or love.

Or rather a love that never was.

The past 4+ months with Jim are beyond anything that the past nine years with Roy were.  But Jim knows how Roy has influenced her life.  Jim doesn’t understand, nor claims to, which is why he’s been patient.  He also admires Roy for trying… but is getting antsy because Roy is trying.  Jim knows nothing will come out of it, because he trusts Pam — who, in no uncertain terms, will never make that mistake again — but for her, there’s still loss involved.  And him trying is only making things harder.  She’s loving and forgiving, which is why she has to control how she approaches him.  Seeing through him is difficult, but if she was honest, it’s getting easier by the day.

Given Jim and Pam’s current situation with the company, Roy is the last thing on either of their minds.  But while she’s okay and has moved on, he hasn’t.  And as badly as she wants to spare his feelings, that shouldn’t be her responsibility.

Ed Truck is no longer a part of Michael Scott’s life.  And he needs to accept that his life will go on without him.

Pam Beesly is no longer a part of Roy Anderson’s life.  And he needs to accept that his life will go on without her.

Yes, she truly understands where Michael’s coming from.

And in walks… Roy.  “Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt, uh, I need to see Pam,” he says to Michael, “There seems to be, like, something wrong with the radiator in her car.”

Michael buys it, “…Okay, fine.  Hurry back.”

Though she doesn’t want to leave (which is saying something), Pam gets up with him to see if there’s anything wrong with her car.  He might just be telling the truth.

“There’s nothing wrong with your car.”  Of course, there isn’t.  “I just thought you might like a break from the ‘grief counseling’ session.”

Pam grabs her coat and considers it.  “Well, a break does sound nice.”

Roy decides to check out her new car, bought with the wedding money.  “How are you likin’ the new car?”

She nods politely, genuinely smiling, “Great.”

“Yeah?” he looks around, “Sure is small.  Got airbags?”

“I think so,” she doesn’t remember, “I don’t know, I was mainly focused on the cup holders.”

He chuckles, “Well, you’re not still driving so fast, are you?  Yeah.”  Her genuine smile becomes a forced one.  Even with how hard he’s trying, it always goes back to something from their past.  It’s innocuous and pointless enough, because yeah, she does drive fast.  Still.  But he doesn’t need to remind her.

This isn’t helping his case.  I called off the wedding.  It’s over.  It’s been over.  For months.  So why hasn’t he picked up on that yet?

The impact is lessening and the grip is loosening.

Jim’s once again in the breakroom, checking his cell phone for an upcoming conversation with David Wallace.

“Thanks again for the chips by the way,” Karen tells him as he walks in.

“Sure, thing,” he responds.

She doesn’t know what it is about him that draws her to him.  Maybe his confidence?  His sense of humor?  Hell, his height?  She’s not sure.  But she honestly thinks there’s some sort of connection here.  So she might as well go for it.

She’s always up for a challenge.

“Hey, I was thinking… you want to grab a coffee or something after work?”

He attempts to hide his eyes widening.  His day just got worse.

He forgot about the ‘Halpert charm’s’ effects again.  And he also forgot to turn it off.

Let’s recap: I’m probably gonna get chewed out by my boss for dating Pam, my former boss just got decapitated, Michael is pouring all his insecurities onto everyone else because of it, and the closest friend I have in this office just asked me out.  All of this on top of seeing a dude bare-ass naked.

So he just does what he always does: attempt to ease the situation with very select words.  “Oh!  Um… tonight, actually?  No.  I actually have plans, tonight.”
“Oh yeah, no problem, just… whenever.”
“Okay.”

“Oh-kayy,” Andy arrives, as if on cue.  “Sorry to interrupt.  I…”

“Nope.  You’re not interrupting anything.”  Karen’s face falls.  Jim notices.  “Nope, I’—”
“All right.”
“Don’t—”

“Okayyy,” Andy singsongs.  He raises his eyebrows knowingly at the camera as he walks off.

“All right.”  He turns his attention back to Karen.  “I should, uh… probably get back to work, too.”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.”

As he walks back to his office, she stands there and thinks for a sec, while he’s desperate to get out of there.

“The day’s going okay,” Karen tells the crew, nodding to convince herself, “Y’know it’s just been business as usual and um…” she bites her lip, “yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

Jim just sits in front of them, resting the side of his head on his fingers, looking off into space.  “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Pam enters the conference room quickly, surprised that Michael waited on her.

“Pam, you’re a member of this family.  So we will wait for our family members.”  God, Michael, not today.  “Phyllis, you wanna give it a shot?”

“I got it,” Dwight intercepts, “When my mother was pregnant with me, they did an ultrasound and found she was having twins.  When they did another ultrasound a few weeks later, they discovered… that I had resorbed the other fetus.  Do I regret this?  No.  I believe his tissue has made me stronger.  I now have the strength of a grown man and a little baby.”  Dwight going first was a mistake.

Stanley (quite aggressively) refuses to go, so Michael hands it to Pam.  She wants to talk about her fears regarding Jim and corporate; sure they’re all nice and they’d support them both through it, but then again 1) they’re both probably in hot water and don’t want them to know on top of that, and 2) she remembers who all these people are.

Okay, think of the last movie you’ve wa— Perfect!  “Let’s see…  I had an aunt that I was really close to.  She was this amazing female boxer.  Um, anyway, she was injured in a fight, and she was paralyzed.”  Ryan’s quick on the uptake.  “So, you can imagine how upset I was when I found out that she asked her manager to remove her breathing tube so she could die…”

“Wow.”  Michael is truly touched.  “If you wanna cry, that’s okay.”  Nah, I’m good.

Ryan wants the ball now, so she tosses it to him.  He mentions his cousin, Mufasa, who was trampled to death by a pack of wildebeests.

“Do you want to talk about it anymore?” Michael asks.

“Oh, it would probably take me like an hour and a half to tell that whole story.”  Indeed, it would.

Kevin, after unsubtly using Weekend at Bernie’s as a death in the family, Michael says that they all think this is some kind of game (Phyllis points out the ball) and keeps wanting to rope them all back into his pity party.

And here comes Toby to try to alleviate the situation.  Again, to no avail.  “Michael, look.  I know this is hard for you, but death’s just a part of life.  I mean, just this morning I saw a little bird fly into the glass doors downstairs and die.”  Michael’s world is crumbling around him.  “And I had to keep going.”

“How do you know?” he asks desperately.

“…What?”

“That that bird was dead?  Did you check… its breathing?

“It was obvious—”

“Was its heart beating, Toby?  Did you check it?  No, of course, you didn’t.  You’re not a veterinarian.  You don’t know ANYTHING!”

Naturally, Michael goes downstairs and does what Toby had the absolute GALL not to do: save the bird.  Dwight follows him, not because of his unwavering loyalty but rather because he knows what Michael’s about to do to himself.  It’s dead.  He brings it to the kitchen, giving it water, as some of the employees are attempting to relax and/or eat.  It’s dead.  There will be a funeral service for the bird at 4 pm.  They all have work to do, but this bird, the bird that Toby killed, must be honored.

Pam does look sorry for Michael.  He’s been through a lot today… I can at least help him through this.

Michael is finally seeing that Kelly, of all people, is having the proper reaction from all the chaos of the day.  He walks up to take care of her.  She is truly upset… about how many times she has to confirm with Ryan about their date tonight.  Dwight, being helpful, tries to stick the bird’s carcass in a soda can, much to Michael’s irritation.

It takes a lot for Dwight Schrute to be done with Michael, but somehow he manages(™).  “I’m sorry, I grew up on a farm,” Dwight snides to the crew, “We slaughtered a pig whenever we wanted bacon.  My grandfather was reburied in an old oil drum. …It would have fit if he had given me another minute.”

“Did I wake up this morning thinking I’d be throwing together a bird funeral?” Pam asks them later on, showing off the her decorated ‘coffin’ (a small box) for the bird, “You never can tell what your day here is gonna turn into,” she finishes with a shrug.

She also suggests Dwight get his recorder.  He’s hyped.

Outside, the funeral takes place.  They decide to cremate the body (they couldn’t bury it).  Pam confirms she made the box herself; Michael thinks it’s very nice.  At least he appreciates the gesture.

“When I was five,” Ryan shared to the crew right before the funeral, “my mom told me that my fish went to the hospital in the toilet and it never came back so we had a funeral for it.  And I remember thinking ‘I’m a little too old for this.’  And I was five.”

And Pam offers some final words of her own, knowing exactly how to pierce through Michael’s shell, “What do we know about this bird?  You might think, ‘Not much.  It’s just a bird.’  But we do know some things.  We know it was a local bird.  Maybe it’s that same bird that surprised Oscar that one morning with a special present from above.”  Kevin remembers that.  It was so funny.  “And we know how he died.  Flying into the glass doors.”  She looks at Michael, knowingly.  “But you know what?  I don’t think he was being stupid.  I think he just really, really wanted to come inside our building to spread his cheer and lift our spirits with a song.”
“He’s not a songbird.”
“Shhh!”
“An impression, then.  Lastly, we can’t help but notice that he was by himself when he died, but of course, we all know… that doesn’t mean he was alone.”  Michael lets all of her words truly sink in.  “Because I’m sure that there were lots of other birds out there who cared for him very much.  He will not be forgotten.”
“Amen,” Angela quickly adds.

Pam’s touching and impactful words give Michael a new perspective on life, which he can carry with him as he properly grieves.

Cue Dwight playing Jeffery Osborne’s ‘On the Wings of Love’ on his recorder, with Pam’s vocals.

“Just smile for me and let the day begin”

“You are the sunshine that lights my heart within…”

As a couple of warehouse workers just stare at everyone wondering what the hell is going on, Michael sways happily with a weirded out Phyllis and Meredith, coming to terms with loss, its impact lessening, its grip loosening.

Michael wraps all of this up to the crew, “Society teaches us that having feelings and crying is bad and wrong.

“Well, that’s baloney.  Because grief isn’t wrong.  There is such a thing as good grief.
As Jim walks out of the office, he gives Karen, still at her desk, a kind smile and wave goodbye, and she returns it.  Her smile fades as he walks away.

“Just ask Charlie Brown.”

Michael, at peace, tells everyone to get back to work.  Finally.

Dwight later puts out the fire, steps on the box to put it out, and demands the warehouse workers get a broom.

Jim’s still out in the parking lot, in his car, talking to Pam, just… needing a breather after everything that’s happened.  Both of them.

“Okay, next time I see you, I want you”
[“Stop.”]
“to bring Dwight”
[“Stop!”]
“and his recorder”
[“Shut up!”]
“and serenade me to sleep.”

[“No chance in hell, Halpert!”]  He’s beside himself as she laughs alongside him.  [“Oh, and um…”]

Oh boy.  “I know that voice.  Roy?”

She sighs dejectedly, [“Yeah.”]

Dude, you’ve gotta stop.  “Wanna talk about it?”

[“I’ll… tell ya later.”]

“No problem.”

[“Guess we’ve both had a bit of a day, huh?”]

“Yup.  Michael certainly has, it seems.”

[“Yeah, poor thing.  And, hey, I’m not mad at Karen.”]  She really isn’t.  Especially not after Roy.  [“You can tell her you’re in a long-distance relationship.”]

“I guess… This whole corporate thing has—”  He sees Karen from his rearview mirror.  Pam’s right, she doesn’t have to know anything else about us.  It’s not like she’ll report us.  “Hey, um, can I give you a call right back?”

[“Sure, no problem.”]

“Alright, cool.”

[“Bye.”]
“Bye.”

He sees Karen walking to her car, needing to be honest with him.

“Hey!” she greets.

“Hey.”

“I thought you had already… left.”

“Uh… no.  I was just, uh…”  Just rip the Band-Aid, man.  “I was on the phone with my girlfriend actually.  She’s from out of state, so…”

Her entire deposition switches out of the blue.  “Well, good for you!” she supports excitedly.

It throws him off guard for a sec.  “Oh, thanks,” he responds, two parts happy and relieved.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, we’ve been together for a while, and—”
“That’s great!”
“Yeah.  Sorry, I feel like I shoulda—”

“Hey, it’s your personal life, alright?” She tells him plainly, “Y-you didn’t even have to tell me.”

“Yeah, but… I just feel bad.  I feel like things were a little weird earlier.”

“Jim, I’m fine,” she reassures, “Really.”

Jim, relieved that everything’s taken care of, takes a small sigh, “Okay, cool.”

“Yup.”

“Uh, see you in the morning?”

“Yup, see you then.”

“Night.”

“Night.”

As Jim walks back to his car, the camera pans over to Karen getting into hers, capturing her disappointment.

When he’s buckling up, he sees that Pam is calling.

[“Hi!”]

“Hey, I was just about to call you back.”

She notices his disposition.  [“Everything good?”]

“Well, saw Karen outside, followed your advice, and… she was happy for me.”

[“See?  There you go!”]

“Yeah… What’s up?”

[“Okay… David Wallace got in touch with us by an email.”]

“Wait, an email?  Really?”

[“Yeah… He said it’s cool.”]

“W— Seriously?  Like that?”

[“Yeah!  He’s fine with it and nobody else will know!”]

“…Oh, thank God!”  They both laugh in relief, knowing that their secret is both safe and secure.  This is a step forward, that they can continue working for this company and still be together until they can escape it one day.

[“It’s like I can breathe again.”]

“Me, too.”  They can breathe.

Because they know.  And it’s okay that they know.

[“…I love you.”]

“I love you, too.”

URGENT — Workplace Relationship
FROM: dwallace@dundermifflinpaper.com
TO: jhalpert@dundermifflinpaper.com, pbeesly@dundermifflinpaper.com
CC: jlevinson@dundermifflin.com

Dear Mr. Halpert and Miss Beesly,

Usually I would contact you over the phone or in person. Unique circumstances have caused this information to be relayed through email.

I took some time to deliberate on whether or not it’d be a good idea for you two to continue your romantic relationship while both of you are employed at Dunder Mifflin. This is the first time any sort of workplace relationship has come to my attention during my time in this company thus far, and from what I know, there are a very select few in this company. At my former place of work, I have seen firsthand how damaging workplace relationships can be for both the couple and the company, especially amongst an employee and their direct superior. Dunder Mifflin, unfortunately, has had a track record of various upper- to middle-management positions resigning or being let go due to sexual harassment cases, my predecessor included. And this company cannot afford any more lawsuits, especially after the outing of one of Scranton’s employees, who will remain anonymous upon their request.

If you two are to remain together, there are some ground rules that you both need to be reminded of. Beyond our policies regarding sexual harassment (of which you both are already well aware given Scranton’s reputation), anything regarding your relationship should be completely divorced from the workplace; it cannot affect your work performance in any capacity, especially regarding promotions, salary, etc. Furthermore, there cannot be any public displays of affection in the workspace, and company devices (phones, IM chats, etc.) must no longer be used for you to contact each other regarding your relationship.

From what little I know of you two, you seem to be already aware of all of this and have clearly done your homework. Jan spoke very highly of you both, as well as your respective HR Representatives Kyle Burnette and Toby Flenderson. We also vehemently agree with your decision to keep your relationship private amongst your coworkers and only discuss it with them outside of the workplace if you so choose.

I’m putting a lot of trust in you two, but in the end, I do trust your judgment.

Best of luck to you both.

Sincerely,
David Wallace
Chief Financial Officer
Dunder Mifflin Paper Company, Inc.

P.S.: Jim and Pam,

When my wife Rachel and I started dating, she lived in Maine while I was here in New York; we maintained a long-distance relationship for nine months before she eventually got the chance to move to NY. I understand how difficult this must be. All I advise is that you two don’t give up on each other. Speaking from experience, everything will work out in due time and you two will eventually be together in person.

Stay strong.

Also, I know how Michael can be. Good luck with that.

Warm regards,
David