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The beginning of the end….

Pam doesn't know when she's felt worse.

It was worse than when he left, worse than watching her run a hand over his back, worse than when she had to smile and nod when Karen thanked her for making him see reason.

It was worse than Wednesday, when for the second year in a row she sat at her desk, and waited in torturous anticipation for something to arrive.  This year had the added gut wrenching bonus of waiting to see if anything arrived for Karen.    Her answer came at about 2:00 PM, in the form of a particularly annoying bunch of pink and red and white balloons that Karen had rolled her eyes at, yet tied to the back of her chair immediately.

All Jim had given Pam was a small smile.

This was worse.  It was worse being "just friends" instead of…well she wasn't quite sure what to call what they were before  - before he said he loved her, before he moved away, before he came back with her.  All she knew was that this was worse. 

It was a hundred, thousand, million times worse.

She wanted to throw something, something that would shatter and splinter and maybe maim anyone caught it its path.  She wanted to punch him, she'd never thrown a punch in her life but right now, at this moment, her fists itched to find a mark.  She wanted to yell and scream and stomp her feet like a two year old in need of a nap.

How dare he?  She fumed, still, a full twenty-four hours later.  If he was so happy with Karen - if he didn't need her anymore - why the hell did he still come around?

She did her best to avoid him for most of the day, which wasn't easy because they were essentially here alone.  It was President's Day Weekend, and they were working with skeleton crew.  Michael was already gone, as were Phyllis and Ryan and Kelly.  Karen had also headed back home last night extending her three-day weekend into four.  Pam had heard him mumble something about seeing if he could make it up there on Saturday, but she wasn't sure what his final decision was.

It didn't matter. She told herself she didn't care.  He could do whatever he wanted. 

Bastard.

It had started snowing mid-afternoon, and she'd been so caught up trying to rein in her emotions that she didn't even realize it.  Her fingers pounded on the keyboard, typing yet another fax cover sheet when she heard the soft sound of his voice.

"Pam."

She looked up at him and remained silent, her mouth set in a straight line.

His eyes were filled with concern.   "You should probably head out.  It's really coming down out there."

"It's fine."  She snapped back at him, averting her eyes and beginning to type again.  "I have work to do."

"Hey."  He whispered, his voice falling a full octave.  "Are you OK?"

Do I look OK?  "Yes.  Why?"

"You seem…I don't know.  I just get this feeling… Are you…"  He took a deep breath, looked at her closely.  "Are you mad at me or something?"

Am I mad at you?  Am I mad at you??  Why would I possibly be mad at you?  The answer to his question is obvious as she replied, "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know." He shrugged.  "Maybe the fact that you slammed the door to the break room twice today, you didn't sit with me at lunch, and if the shoulder you're giving me gets any colder I expect you to break out in icicles."

"I guess you have your answer then."  She snapped back.

Jim bit his lip and nodded.  "Mind telling me why?" 

"As a matter of fact I do mind."  She stood and moved to the fax machine, punching the numbers furiously.  Pam rested her hands on either side of the machine and tries to control her temper.

"OK.  Whatever."  He threw his hands up in surrender and moved back to his desk, beginning to gather his things.

"I said the same thing." She mumbled almost to low for him to hear. 

"What?" 

"Yesterday - with Andy.  You wanted to know how to get him, I said send him a flyer announcing a cappella auditions over at the Community Center and you said it was too obvious.  Not ten minutes later, she said the same thing and all of the sudden you're printing out copies on fucking Plasma Pink."  As she said the words she couldn't believe she'd even said anything, let alone cursed at him.  She snatched the fax confirmation and stormed back to her desk.  "Do I not speak English anymore?  Do they speak another language in Connecticut that I'm not aware of?"

The look on his face was priceless.  "Hold on a second…"

"I'm not stupid Jim.  Please don't pretend I am.  That's all I ask.  You don't want my help - fine.  You've got a new playmate?  No problem.  I get the message. Move on - that's fine.  But if that's what you're doing - just freaking move then.  Don't make me think there's still a chance."

"Pam. Wait…"

She couldn't stop herself.  It's like a floodgate opened and everything came out in a torrent.  "If that's how it's going be that's great.  Just do me a favor though OK?  Don't stop by and chat with me and give me that smile.  Don't tell me 'we just have to talk about Michael'.  It's my fault I know.  I thought I could do it.  When I realized…"  She reached for her coat, stuffed her arm in one of the sleeves and her hand tangled with her scarf as she pushed through.  Flustered and more than a little embarrassed she stumbled a bit as she walked around her desk and towards the door.  "…I figured it was better than nothing.  I wanted to be your friend.  I needed to be your friend.  But now I know I can't.  I tried and I just can't.  It's too hard…" 

Realization washed over his features.  "Pam…"

She pushed through the door and walked to the elevator pressing the button frantically as he scrambled to catch up to her.  "I don't know what's worse.  Waking up one morning and thinking I was about to throw the rest of my life away or making the choice to change only to find out it doesn't even matter.  I didn't realize I only had one chance and because I didn't give you the right answer that was it.  It was gone - lost - forever."  Her eyes were wild, shiny with unshed tears as she whirled back around to face him and stared him in the eye. 

"If you were ever my friend Jim - if you were really truly my friend you'd have known how hard that would be for me to do - to change all of that so quickly.  I guess I was warned.  You did tell me that night that it would be all or nothing.  Silly, stupid me - I thought maybe you didn't really mean it quite so literally.  Now I know how wrong I was."

Desperate to get out of there, desperate to be absolutely anywhere else she moved to the stairwell, and ran down to the lobby as fast as her legs could carry her.