"So, surprisingly enough -- Michael and Andy are still BFF." Jim smiled at the camera as he sat in the conference room in the midst of his many daily 'talking head' segments. "After everything that happened with Dwight, I thought Michael would never speak to him again.  Buttt... apparently, Andy is a really good suck-up."  Jim shrugged.  "It’s great, though, because Dwight hates it."

Two weeks ago, Dwight had resigned from the company, due to the fact that he wouldn't admit why he had driven to the Corporate offices that morning, and consequently, was late for work.  That next morning, Jim had gotten an e-mail from Pam, explaining that Dwight had been to corporate to cover for a tax deadline Angela had missed.  Of course, it all came out publicly that week when Angela went into Michael's office and came out in tears.  Michael made an announcement, and everyone thought maybe Angela was going to get fired, but in the end, she stayed on, while Michael and Jim went off to find Dwight.  The fact of the matter was, Dwight was one of their top-sellers, and Jan had demanded that Michael go find Dwight and get him back, or he was going to end up fired.

So, they had gone to track down Dwight, and found him working at Staples (!) of all places, as a floor manager.  Dwight hadn't exactly been happy to see Michael, but when Michael promised him the Number Three position in the company, Dwight agreed to come back. 

This, of course, put Andy back on the ass-kissing fast-track to get back to Number Three again.  Andy, incidentally, blamed Angela for selling herself out to get Dwight back, but that was another issue altogether.  Needless to say, Andy was not sitting next to Angela anymore.  With both Dwight and Oscar back in the office, he had been relegated back to the desk across from Creed.  Horrified by the smell (and the general nature that was Creed Bratton), Andy had been spending most of his time in or around Michael's office, or by Jim's desk.

===

"Jim, can I see you in the kitchen for a minute? I need help with ... coffee decisions."

Jim couldn't help but smirk at the camera before nodding at Dwight. He let Dwight go ahead.

Their branches had officially merged two months ago, and while Dwight was intially unhappy about Jim having to take the desk directly across from his, ever since Dwight had come back to Dunder-Mifflin after (temporarily) quitting, Jim noticed that Dwight was spending a lot more time talking to him than he ever had before. 

Within a couple days of being back, Dwight was back to being ignored by Michael.  Both Jim and Dwight seemed to share a strong dislike for Andy Bernard, so maybe that explained Dwight's unusually friendly behavior. 

Everything about Andy annoyed Jim.  More than Dwight.   Was it his sense of superiority?  Or was that stupidity?  Jim had heard about how badly Michael and Andy's tag-team sale had bombed.  Michael spent twenty minutes complaining to Jim about it during their weekly "management" session.  There was just something about Andy, though, something that just made him --

"Big Tuna!"

Jim grimaced as he looked up. He heard Pam stifling a laugh from her desk. She did that every time Andy called him that. That irked Jim, too.

"What?" he asked. Jim glanced back towards the kitchen and saw Dwight peering out at them through the blinds. Dwight quickly turned around when he saw Jim looking at him.

"Mike and I were talking..."

And that was another thing: no one called Michael "Mike." What made Andy think he could do that? It wasn't like it even fit him -- Michael was ... Michael.

"Yeah, Andy and I were having a little pow-wow, in my office." Michael walked up behind Andy, grinning.

"Yeah?" Jim asked.

Andy nodded. He had his arms crossed over his chest. There's that sense of superiority again.  "Mike wants to have a guys' night out. A bonding for the salesmen, you know?"

"Well, I think we have a couple women in sales, Andy," Jim said.

"Who, Karen? She never goes out after work, anyway."

No, she just doesn't go out with you.  Jim didn't say that.  He said: "Yes, and Phyllis, too. She works in sales."

Phyllis turned around, hearing her name. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Phyllis doesn't want to come out with us," Michael said. "She probably spends her Friday nights knitting, making oven mitts, or something."

Phyllis frowned. "Actually, I usually go out to dinner and sometimes dancing, with Bob Vance."

"Pfft," Michael said. "Whatever, look. This is a man thing, this is about men bonding and talking about our tribal instincts--"

"Hunting," Andy said.

"-- how we need to fight for our rights, struggle to make it in the competitive paper 'biz -"

"Pillaging," Andy said.

"Stanley would know what I'm talking about," Michael said, walking over to him. Stanley was on the phone, or at least pretending to be on the phone. Jim suspected Stanley just picked up the phone every time Michael came out of his office so he wouldn't have to talk to him.

"No I wouldn't," Stanley said. He covered the mouthpiece. "I am on a call."

"Whatever," Michael said. "All I'm saying is..."

"What's going on?" Dwight asked, finally emerging from the kitchen. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing," Andy said, at the same time Jim said:

"Michael and Andy were planning a Guys' Night Out event for the sales department. A way for us to all bond and hone our skills." Jim ignored the look Andy was giving him. Instead, he smiled lightly at Dwight.

Dwight's face lit up. "Oh, that's great, Michael!  I have so many ideas for different things we could do -- I could secure the paintball course, or we could go do some target practice at my crossbow range, I think I have enough to go around..."

"Uh, I don't think so, sport."

Dwight's jaw dropped. He turned to Andy, his mouth curling up into a thin frown. Jim's mouth fell open. He glanced up at Pam, who was smiling, open-mouthed, in his direction.  Karen, Creed, Kevin and Meredith had all stood up or turned around, and were watching the scene unfold.

"I'm not sure I heard you right. What was that again?" Dwight asked. His eyes narrowed. "I should have you know that I am a purple belt."

Jim said, "That's really high. He's kind of dangerous." Jim left off the second part of that: to twelve-year olds, because he didn't want to help Andy's cause. He didn't necessarily want to help Dwight, either, but he naturally found himself defending Dwight. Lesser of two evils.

"No, what he means is that we already figured out what to do," Michael said, stepping forward. He held his arm out to Dwight, and Dwight took a step back, nodding at Michael.

Michael grinned, and everyone waited several seconds.

"What is it, Michael?" Jim finally asked.

"We're going to a karaoke night!" Andy burst out, obviously very excited about it.

"Karaoke?" Dwight asked. "That isn't a test of skill at all."

"Take it back," Andy said. "Singing is a very important skill. I've had you know that I was part of a nationally-acclaimed singing group in college."

"Gay!" Kevin coughed from the back of the room.

Jim at the camera with wide eyes, while Andy shot a glare in his direction. Michael snorted. 

Everyone turned to look at Oscar's desk, but he wasn't sitting at it.  Angela tapped the glass between her and Kevin.  "That was inappropriate," she hissed.  Jim swore he caught the hint of a smile on Angela's face, though.

"Anyway," Andy said, "this event is for the salesmen, not for accounting, or other departments. Mike thought it was a great idea." He looked over at Michael.

"Absolutely! Karaoke is tons of fun! It'll be a great way for us to open up, forget our inhibitions, you know..."

Dwight looked up, his face turned up into a pout. "Well, I don't know. If Michael thinks so..."

===

"When I turned twenty-one, karaoke was just starting to become popular in the U.S. Of course, it's been popular in Japan for years. They call it kare-ay-oh-kay there as well. It's actually a Japanese word meaning 'empty orchestra.' In Japan, they don't have the lyrics on the screens like we do. They just sing along to the instrumental music. I think it's better that way. It takes real talent to actually remember the lyrics by heart." Dwight gave the camera a knowing look. "Not this ridiculous 'read the lyrics off a screen and sing them off key' thing we do here. Pathetic."

===

"I am a karaoke master. I've was involved in several karaoke contests back in Stamford, and before that, in Ithaca when I was at Cornell. I won the first place position twice. These guys don't know what they're getting into," Andy sniffed as he smoothed out his cornflower-blue tie.

===

Pam leaned up against Jim's desk, smiling widely at him.

Things had been more than a little awkward since Jim had come back to Scranton.  First of all:  well, after the whole casino night confession -- disaster -- whatever -- and the fact that Pam didn't once, in the six months he was gone, make an effort to call him ... at least to say hi, maybe let him know that she'd called off her wedding, something.  He'd caught her on the phone by accident about four months after he'd left, and it had been like switching a lightbulb on -- it had felt so painfully like old times that he just wanted to shut it out afterwards.  He had honestly thought he was moving on, and then that happened. 

A couple weeks after that, she'd text-messaged him something ridiculous about Michael proposing (that probably partially explained why Michael's girlfriend broke up with him shortly thereafter).  Jim hadn't responded to the text message -- he'd been drunk and left his phone at work, and texting her the next day just seemed -- lame.  It was easier just to ignore that it had ever happened. 

He didn't hear anything else from her until he saw her that awful first day back in Scranton.  She'd run up to him and hugged him right away, and for a half-second, he let himself forget -- forget everything that had happened -- or not happened in the past six months.  Let himself forget "I can't," and "I think you misinterpreted things."  For a moment, he pretended like he hadn't misinterpreted anything, and that she was his. 

As quickly as he forgot, he remembered.  He remembered, "I can't," and the fact that she'd nodded when he asked if she was really going to marry Roy.  (She didn't.)  He remembered the cameras -- who were trained on them like circling vultures.  He made some lame joke about being new.  She had brushed it off, smiling at him, looking -- fantastic, gorgeous.  Better than he even remembered.  He felt sick to his stomach, standing there before her -- and it only got worse as the day went on.  As she cornered him in the break room and asked him to go to coffee.  To coffee?  You don't call for six months, Pam, and you want to just go get a coffee?  Like nothing happened? 

Then of course, the ending to that horrible day:  "We're friends.  We'll always be friends." 

God, that had hurt.  Of course, his comment about "seeing someone" had only been only half-true.  He knew that Karen was interested in him -- he'd seen the way she was looking at her -- and she'd asked him out to a drink that night.  What the hell.  He already saw the signs:  one drink would lead to another, and the next thing he knew, he'd be back at Karen's apartment, making out with her.  She was attractive.  She was confident.  She knew what she wanted.  And she was definitely not Pam. 

So, that's how that had started.  He'd only actually really admitted to Pam that he was dating Karen a few weeks ago.  Jim had gotten in a dumb argument with Karen about her wanting to move into a place just down the street from him.  Honestly -- it was a moot point now, Pam had told him it wasn't a big deal (somehow that hurt more than the actual argument with Karen) and that he should just "go easy" on Karen.  That settled it, really.  Jim didn't know what he was waiting for -- some sign from Pam?  Some fucking miracle?  It didn't seem to be coming.  He just had to move on, right?  He was with Karen now. 

Just when he thought things were going well between him and Karen -- he finds out that Karen heard something about him and Pam.  He wasn't exactly sure where she'd heard it.  Or what she'd heard, exactly.  He denied it first, then made the mistake of asking Karen if Pam had mentioned it to her.  (God, how stupid.)  Karen hadn't answered that, but made a comment about the fact that she'd moved from Connecticut [for him].  She hadn't said that last part, but Jim knew what she was saying.  So he admitted that he'd had a "crush" on Pam.  A fucking crush.  As if it was as simple and dumb as that.  If it was, he wouldn't still be thinking about her.  Every day.  Willing away the thoughts.  The pain.  The longing.

To make matters worse, he still really had no idea where Pam stood.  One day it would seem like she didn't want to have anything to do with him -- she would avoid his gaze, sit hunched over at her desk, and the next day, she'd be coming over, chatting to him, sending him funny e-mails.  He got it:  she just wanted to be friends.  But he didn't -- he couldn't -- do that.  He'd told her that a long time ago.  It just hurt too damn much.

Despite the fact that he was constantly telling himself to just let it go -- to let her go, he couldn't help himself.  He wanted to tell Pam to just leave him alone -- to let him move on, but he couldn't.  Especially not when she'd come over to his desk, casually leaning against the surface, grinning at him while she shared Andy and Dwight's latest encounter in the break room.  Or Michael's idea for this quarter's comraderie event.  There was always something that seemed to give her an excuse to talk to him, and he could never say no ...

"Jim, are you listening to me?"

Pam was leaning forward towards him and he had to consciously stop himself from looking down her shirt. She was dressing differently lately, he'd noticed. It wasn't outrageous, but subtle differences, like her skirts seemed slimmer and she didn't always wear button-down shirts.  One time she wore a pretty yellow blouse that was sort of sheer, and she had a tank top on underneath, and he could see the outline of her tank top if he looked closely enough.

"Oh, yeah," he frowned, clearing his throat. "Um, something about Andy and Dwight's upcoming duel ... only on Pay-Per-View?"

"No, silly," she said, hitting his arm. She seemed strangely giddy, and he watched as her fingers lingered for a moment on the fabric on his shirt. His eyes moved over her carefully, and he felt his legs start to tingle. Jim uncrossed his legs under his desk. He swallowed hard as he glanced over towards Karen's desk and saw her watching them.

"Um," Jim said, turning slightly so Pam wasn't sitting so closely. "I'm sorry, you're going to have to repeat that."

"Well, you know how you guys are doing this karaoke-guy's night," Pam started to say.

"Emphasis on guy's night, Pam. Women are definitely not allowed," Dwight interrupted.

"Oh dear," Pam said. "I think I'm going to go home and cry myself to sleep tonight." She gave Jim a meaningful look. He smiled back at her. "Seriously, though," she continued in a lower voice. "I have this idea for you." She leaned forward across the desk, cupping her hand against his ear as she whispered into it.

Jim had to concentrate to make sure she heard what she said. The combination of her hot breath against his ear combined with an extended view of Pam's legs as she leaned over his desk was about to make it very difficult for Jim to stand up in his flat-front trousers. He ignored the fact that he knew Karen was staring at him from across the room. He knew he was treading into extremely dangerous territory. He couldn't help himself.

"Beesly!" he said when she was finished, "You are on."

"What are you talking about? What are you guys planning?" Dwight sat up in his seat.

Jim looked at Pam. "Do you think we should tell him?"

"I don't know, is he really trustworthy?" Pam asked.

Jim looked at Dwight, and then at Pam. "Are you kidding? Beet-farmers are some of the most trustworthy people you are ever going to meet."

"Stop mocking me. Seriously, what's going on?"

"I am not mocking you, Dwight, but if you must know, it has to do with Andy."

"I would not tell a soul, what is it?" Dwight got out of his chair and knelt in front of Jim.

Jim covered his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. He glanced quickly at Pam before turning to Dwight: "Okay," he whispered just loud enough for the three of them (and the cameraman hanging over their shoulder) to hear. "We were going to have Andy challenge Michael to a singing contest." [That was not what Pam had told him to do: actually, what she told him to do involved Dwight, and how there was five bucks on the line if Jim got him to sing Everybody Hurts at karaoke.]

Dwight, of course, did not know this. "That's brilliant!" he exclaimed.  "We all know what a good singer Michael is. He could totally beat Andy in a karaoke contest."

It was true: Michael wasn't a bad singer. Even though Dwight had missed Michael's first karaoke song at Jim's party last year, Dwight wandered in during Michael's second tune, which turned into a third and fourth, and after an hour had gone by, everyone agreed that Michael wasn't as horrible as everyone had expected. Even Angela, who had not been drinking that night, told Michael his voice was "nice."

Andy happened to be walking by when Dwight made the comment. Andy stopped in his tracks. "Are you kidding me?" he said. "I will wipe this town clean with my karaoke skills. You guys do not know who you're messing with." The three of them watched as he stormed off towards the break room.

"Wow," Jim said. "That sounded serious."

"He obviously does not know who he's dealing with: Michael Scott," Dwight said. He nodded proudly, staring into Michael's office. Michael was bobbing his head up and down, a pair of headphones on his ears. They could faintly hear Michael singing along to a Pink song.

"Ten bucks that says Michael either sings My Humps or a Justin Timberlake song at some point in the night," Jim said to Pam.

"No fair, My Humps is his ring tone. That's like, a given. Pick again, Halpert," Pam said.

"Okay, Justin Timberlake still stands, but my second choice would be..."

"Shakira," Dwight said.

"Wow, last minute point going to Dwight Schrute, who would've guessed?"

"I organized Michael's CD book," Dwight replied. "His two favorite artists right now are the Black Eyed Peas, particularly, Fergie, formally known as Stacy Ferguson, a former cast member of Kids Incorporated, and Shakira, whose real name is Shakira Isabel Mebarak Ripoll and has been singing professionally since the age of ten."

"You have entirely too much information in your head," Jim said.

"Job security," Dwight said, turning back to his desk.

===

"I bet Jim five dollars that he couldn't get Ryan to sing at karaoke night." Pam was quiet for a second. "One of us is probably going to owe the other a lot of money after this night. And I think it will be Jim. Because I don't think Ryan will sing. I would however, definitely pay to see Dwight sing Everybody Hurts." She grinned, hunching her shoulders. "Too bad it's just a guys-sales thing."

She frowned.

"I never thought I'd say that I wanted to go to one of Michael's events."

===

Several of the women in the office were gathered in the lunchroom for Kelly's self-named "Ladies Lunch In." Once a week, the women in the office would all eat lunch together, usually with the exception of Angela, who preferred to eat at her desk (because she was "more productive" that way) and Meredith, who often "went out" to lunch. (There was a running joke around the office about whether Meredith actually really ate anything during her lunches outside the office.)

Right now, it was Pam, Phyllis, Kelly, and Karen. Angela joined them about ten minutes into lunch - probably because she realized she was the only woman not sitting in the lunchroom (except for Meredith, who wasn't in the office.)

"So," Phyllis said. "Obviously, you all know I'm getting married to Bob Vance."

The room broke out into chatter, with multiple "congratulations, again" and exclamations of excitement, particularly from Kelly.

"And I was thinking ... if the guys are going to have their night out, well, us girls should all go out, don't you think?" Phyllis smiled shyly.

"Oh my God, like a bachelorette party? That would be so cool," Kelly gushed. "There's this club in town that has a male revue night once a week..."

Pam swore she saw Phyllis's eyes sparkle for a minute before answering, "Oh, no, I couldn't do that. I was just thinking we could go to one of the bars in Scranton and have a few girly cocktails, you know, a girl's night out."

"I think that sounds like a great idea," Pam said. "Where did you want to go?"

"There's a new wine bar in downtown Scranton," Angela said.

Everyone's heads turned to look at her, surprised.

"What? Jesus drank wine, too," she said, immediately turning on her heel and leaving the lunchroom.

"I think the wine bar sounds like a great idea," Pam said. Everyone in the room nodded, responding positively.

"Great," Phyllis said. "I'll pass out reminder cards with the dates and information tomorrow. We'll go next Friday."

===

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Jim had a pretty good idea of Karen wanted to talk to him about when she pulled him aside into the conference room, but he decided it would probably be better if he feigned ignorance.

"What's up?" he asked once she'd closed the door behind them. She leaned up against the front wall.

"At what point where you planning on telling me what's going on with you and Pam?"

Even though he knew it was coming, he still felt his stomach drop when she said "you and Pam."

His voice had a bitter edge to it when he said: "At no point. Because there is nothing going on. We've always been friends."

"Really? I just find that surprising, considering the fact that, well, you did admit you used to have a crush on her, and the only thing you told me was that she didn't share your feelings, so..."  Karen glared at him, her lips tight, eyebrows raised.

"Karen, I ..."

"You what?  You still have feelings for her?  Is that what it is?  Because I don't see you telling her not to hang out with you."

"Are you kidding me?" Jim said.  "I told you, Karen.  We're friends.  There's nothing going on.  I am with you.  I care about you.  What more do you want?  I'm not going to tell her not to talk to me, I mean--"  Jim turned around, clenching his fist.  Something about the way the conversation had turned suddenly made him angry.  What right did she have to tell him not to talk to Pam?  He was dating her.  Not Pam.  Jim turned around again, eyes blazing.  "Are you saying you're jealous?"

"I don't know," Karen said, frowning.  "I mean … maybe a little.  Do you fucking blame me?  I mean, you tell me that you used to have a crush on her --" she spat it out like it was a dirty word, "-- and that she said she wasn't interested, but I mean, c'mon, Jim.  She's always looking at you. And talking to you, and then leaning over your desk today -- it's fucking obvious."

"It's not like that," Jim said. "She's not ... I mean, she would have..." Jim stopped himself before he could go any further, but he knew he'd already said too much. He looked down at his feet, his fingers digging into the edge of the table.

"Would have what, Jim? What's going on? What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing."

"Why don't I believe that?  Because ... I don't."

"Karen..."  Jim felt his chest getting tight.  It was becoming difficult to breathe.  He had to steady himself by holding onto the table.  "I ... am with you.  I want to be with you.  Pam ... this thing ... it's history."  To prove it, he came over to her and gently took her arms, running his hands up and down them.  Looking around for cameras (none), he leaned forward to give her a short, tender kiss.  "Believe me," he said softly.  "Please."

Karen immediately warmed up after that, her face breaking out into a smile. "I'm sorry, Jim, I ... don't want to be the jealous-girlfriend.  I just ... I didn't know, I mean, you know how girls can be, I'm sorry."

Jim smiled tersely. Inside, his stomach churned violently. He knew what he told her was a lie; there was definitely something going on; he just didn't know what it was. He would break up with Karen in a second if Pam just said the word. But she hadn't.  She wasn't going to, obviously.  So here he was.  "Yeah, so... we're good?" he asked, squeezing her arm.

She squeezed him back. It was this thing that they used to do in when they first started dating. It was innocuous enough that no one seemed to notice. Jim hadn't wanted anyone in the office to know they were dating at first -- he had told Karen it would just "cause more trouble than it was worth" if everyone knew, so they'd kept their relationship to themselves. It didn't seem to matter now -- he didn't know if Pam had said something, or if people just knew, but obviously, a lot of people in the office knew they were dating.  Hell, Dwight had said something to him about Karen.   Dwight, with his non-existent girlfriend.

"Yeah, we're good," Karen said.

"Okay," Jim said quietly as she walked out of the conference room.

===

"No, I don't have feelings for Pam.  I mean, other than friendship, of course.  I mean, we've always been friends.  And we always will be.  Karen and I are dating, as you know, and things are going ... well."  The lie tasted bitter on Jim's tongue.

To be honest, Jim was surprised when Jeff, the cameraman, had come into the conference room after Karen left, asking him about their conversation. He wanted Jim to do a talking head segment about it. How had they heard what they he and Karen were talking about?  Shit. Of course. He'd forgotten to turn off his portable mic when they came into the room, which meant they'd heard their whole conversation. Stupid cameras.

"Do you think Pam has feelings for you?" Jeff asked.

"No.  But that is not something I want to talk about," Jim said, standing up. "I think that's a question better suited to Pam."

With that, Jim walked out of the conference room.

===

"What?" Pam asked. The shock was written all over her face. She couldn't believe they'd just asked her if she had feelings for Jim. Where had that even come from? Was she being that obvious? "Why -- why would you ask me that?"

Jeff didn't answer that.

"I mean, Jim and I are friends. We've always been friends, and, you know ..." She felt her cheeks starting to burn. "Did Jim say something to you?"

She paused, her hand flying up to her neck instinctively. Her fingers caught the pendant on her necklace. The new pendant she'd been wearing since breaking up with Roy. The one her mom had bought for her that summer.

"Because, you know ... I mean, I won't lie, it's been a little -- awkward since he's gotten back, you know, getting promoted, being gone for so long, stuff like that. Some things never change, though," she said, wistful. Pam looked out the door and the camera turned to follow her gaze. Jim was leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed, while Dwight stood in front of his desk, his arms flailing wildly.

"I don't know what you did to my soda, Jim, but this is not funny!" Dwight was saying.

The camera turned back to Pam, who was still smiling wistfully, looking in Jim's direction. She recovered quickly, clearing her throat. "Anyway," she said, playing with her earring, "there's nothing going on, you know, between us. We're just friends. Friends," she said again, as if trying to convince herself.

===