“Everybody!  Could I have your attention please!”  Michael exclaims at the door of his office, clapping his hands together and making as much noise as humanly possible by one person. 

The entire office raises their heads briefly from their papers, and notices the idiotic grin on their boss’ face.  Their lack of optimism is apparent.

 “I know it’s almost five o’clock on a Friday, but I bear tidings of good news!”  he exalts, beaming with excitement.  If she could meet his eye line, Pam would be giggling with Jim.  Instead she is met with the back of his neck.  She is forced to listen to Michael’s good news. 

Which, coincidentally, can only lead to mass chaos. 

“Next Monday will mark the return of something all you born-and-raised Scrantonites are familiar with…” He begins to trill his tongue as his drum roll, trying to build up some semblance of suspense. 

No one is sitting on the edge of their seats. 

“Movie Monday!”  He says in a booming voice, kind of like an amateur game show host.  His already sizeable grin evolves quickly into a full-on laugh.  The same response is not given by the office members. 

One loud, simultaneous groan comes from almost the entire office. 

Except for Dwight, who pumps his fist in the air, and exclaims jubilantly. 

“Didn’t you get in trouble last time you did Movie Monday?”  Stanley asks, not moving his eyes from his current crossword.

 “Uh, no I didn’t.”  Michael replies a little too quickly, his eyes darting over to Karen, then Andy.  “I think you’re starting to get a little senile, Stanley.” 

“I think you did.  Jan came down here and yelled at you for twenty minutes.  Everybody heard it.”  Stanley retorts, slamming his pencil down and rolling his eyes toward Michael. 

Everybody in the office nods at Stanley’s reply. 

“Well, thank you Stanley.  The wet blanket.”  Michael groans, full of sarcasm.  He pinches the bridge of his nose and squints.  “You know, I would’ve expected something like that from Toby, but not from you.” 

“Michael, I’m right here.”  Toby speaks in his normal hushed tone.

 “Yeah, well sometimes we all pretend you’re not.  And guess what?  The office is a much nicer place without you in it.”  Michael snaps back, slowly getting annoyed with everybody.  “Come on, guys!”  He throws his hands in the air, rapidly changing the subject.  “This is my gift to you.” 

“Can we get a gift receipt as well?  I mean, it’s not that we don’t appreciate the thought.”  Jim jokes, and gets a few slight chuckles from the other office members. 

“Yeah.  Go ahead.  Laugh.  I’m glad this all just a big joke to everybody here.”  Michael hangs his head, and retreats to his office.  He mutters something under his breath, presumably about the office workers (or Toby), and slams the door shut.

 Seconds later, Jim abandons his desk, and leans on the reception counter.  “So what exactly is Movie Monday?”  He asks, slipping a bright red jellybean into his mouth.  Definitely cherry. 

She raises an eyebrow at him, and lets a grin escape her lips. 

“Pam, you need to stop this.”  Angela interrupts, her voice filled with stern discipline. Jim is no longer leaning.  Pam freezes with embarrassment. 

“Um... stop what, Angela?”  She pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear.  Jim scurries back to his desk unapologetically.  Her cheeks begin to burn, but she has nothing to feel guilty about.  Besides wanting to be with her friend’s boyfriend. 

“That ridiculous movie Monday thing Michael is insisting on doing.”  Angela says with an annoyed tone.  “I refuse to watch that heathen show again.” 

“Why me?” Pam asks, desperately wishing for Jim to come back.  Ever since Phyllis’ wedding, it was impossible to get him to talk to her.  Those brief moments he did were hard to come by. 

“Because he listens to you.” 

“Yeah.”  Pam shakes her head, looking forlornly at the back of Jim’s neck.  The realization that Angela was right deepens the sadness, and Pam stands up from her desk.  “I’ll talk to him.” 

Jim doesn’t watch as she trudges slowly into Michael’s office.  No matter how much she’d like him to.  

“Pamburgler.  What can I do you for?”  Michael asks, slowly getting back to the gaiety that once overrode him.  The cameras zoom in on Pam’s face as she prepares herself for the conversation to come. 

“Michael... are you sure doing Movie Monday again is such a good idea?”  Pam asks in her kindergarten teacher voice.  (Because she normally has to talk to Michael like he’s a glue-eating five year old.) 

“Oh no, not you too Pam!”  Michael exclaims, throwing his head on his desk.  He buries it in his hands, sobbing slightly.  Then he slams it back up.  “Have you been talking to Toby?”

 She stands there, awkwardly silent.

“No, it’s just... Jan got really mad last time we did it.” 

“That’s what she said.”  Michael says, his depression once again disappearing. 

 “Michael...” she says sternly. 

“No, just listen, Pam.  Now that I’m tapping the corporate booty, it’s like I’ve got the golden ticket to the fun factory.”  He turned to the camera with a content smirk.  Then all those conversations about what was appropriate to discuss about their relationships in front of the camera come rushing back to him in a flash.  He cleared his throat.  "I mean, I have gotten permission from my superior, to play one movie per month, over lunch and at the end of the day." 

Pam was about ready to vomit as the images of Michael and tapping booty of any kind were combined. 

"Michael, are you sure..." 

"Absolutely, Pam, you can't talk me of it."  He clears his throat once more, and looks at Pam.  The idea comes to him.  “Unless...” He sighs heavily, and pulls out his best Jack Sparrow impression.  “Persuade me.” 

Pam stares at him, trying to figure it out.  Michael breaks out a trademark smile and laughs. 

“Johnny Depp, Pirates.  Persuade me.” 

Pam just shakes her head, and walks out of the office.  Michael kicks his feet on the desk, and grins to himself. 

“One day she’ll come around.”… 

“Excuse me.” Michael begins again.  He is once again met with a pessimistic attitude and groaning.  “Come on, this will only take a moment of your time.” 

“Really?  Just a moment?  Should I time it?”  Jim asks, reaching for Dwight’s stopwatch.  Dwight instantly swats his hand away. 

 “Shut it.”  Michael moans.  “Okay.  In the interest of keeping this office a democracy, and not a communist state...” he continues, and Jim shoots the camera a classic Jim look.  “I am going to let you vote on what we watch.  Toby, your vote doesn’t count, so why don’t you just get back to your desk.”   

Everybody turns to Toby, and he slowly walks back to his desk.  In actuality, he is quite glad to finally have some quiet time back at his desk.  With Kelly and Ryan in the other side of the office, it will definitely help get some work done. 

“So, first choice.  I don’t think we’ll need to present the other options, because it... is Entourage!”  He speaks, presenting the DVD case that had haunted movie Mondays throughout the summer. 

Once again, they groan in synch. 

“All in favor of Entourage, raise your hand.”  Michael says, his hand shooting in the air.  Dwight and Andy both wave their arms around like it’s going to fall off at any second.  Michael scans around the room, and it’s only the three votes.  “Come on, guys!”  His waving arm slaps across his leg as it falls down. 

“Opposed?”  Pam interrupts quietly, and nearly everybody’s hand shoots up.  “Sorry, Michael.  Majority rules.  No Entourage.” 

“Well, that’s just great.”  Michael says, rubbing his eye.  “Because I only had one choice.”  The last part of his sentence is barely audible. 

“I’m sorry, what?”  Karen speaks up, asking for clarity. 

“I said I only had the one choice.” 

“Then why did you have us vote?”  Jim asks, then looking over at the camera with a baffled look. 

“I wanted to be polite, okay?  Sue me for being polite and considerate to my friends slash colleagues.”  Michael’s voice cracks as he speaks.  “And yeah, I was expecting a little kindness in return, but I can understand that you guys are all selfish, and you just think about yourself all the time, and we’ll find something else to watch for Movie Monday.  Happy Friday, guys!”  Michael storms off into his office once more. 

Pam looked over at Creed, still staring at Michael’s door, with his arm extended. 

“Creed, um... The vote’s over.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”  Creed apologizes, and then forces his arm down. 

“We were voting on something?”

It’s three minutes into her conversation with Kelly, and Pam is now regretting asking how her weekend was.

"Ryan was totally busy all weekend, so I just spent the weekend in my pajamas watching cute movies like Bridget Jones and The Holiday. Boys with accents are so hot!" Kelly finally takes a breath, and ushers Michael over to the conversation.

"Hey Michael. I was going through my mail on Saturday and my Netflix envelope came in. I have a movie we totally have to watch for that Movie Monday thing!"

She pauses for dramatic effect. Michael concentrates on her. And despite how grateful she is for the silence, Pam is just waiting for it to end.

"10 Things I Hate About You!" She squeals, and begins clapping. At first he stands frozen, but then Michael begins shake his head adamantly.

Pam lets out a little grin, remembering the last time she watched that movie.

***

***

"...Heath Ledger is so hot, especially in that movie with the knights. Ryan would look so cute on a horse," is the first thing that Pam comprehends in the conversation.

Kelly has been trying to convince Michael to let them watch the film.

"No way am I watching some girly-girl teen flick called Ten Things I Hate About You."

"Actually..." Creed interjects, making it very clear he’s been eavesdropping. "I believe I’ve seen this teen flick you speak of. Doesn’t it involve a sheep?"

Kelly, Pam and Michael exchange looks of confusion. After a notable silence, Creed walks back to his desk.

"Michael, what happened to the whole democracy thing you were talking about on Friday?" Pam gives Kelly a slick grin.

"Fine, fine, fine!" Michael repeats, his annoyance growing with each word. Even though he didn’t want to watch this movie, he knew he had no other options. "Alrighty then, everybody. We’re going to do another vote for the Movie Monday selection. Kelly here has suggested we watch some lame-oh movie Ten Things I Hate About You. All in favor of the lamest movie on the face of the earth?" Slowly Creed, Kelly, Pam, Ryan, Phyllis, and Kevin all raise their hands.

Michael has a grim look of distaste on his face.

"Alright, you guys. Just know this." He pauses, looking at everyone long and hard. "You could have watched the greatest show on earth."

"I think we’re better off with Kelly’s movie," Stanley says out of spite. Michael just looks angrily in Stanley’s direction.

"You are unbelievable, Stanley. I sign your paychecks, and this is how you repay me?"

Michael surrenders and retreats to his office.

Pam looks up to see if Jim has any look of excitement.

His neck screams apathy.

***

She scurries into the kitchen to grab her lunch. If she hurries, she’ll only miss Michael figuring out how to run the DVD player. There is a sandwich and soda with her name on it.

She stands frozen at the door as Karen runs her fingers along Jim’s neck.

Right now, it says she is hitting all the right spots.

"Hey Pam." Karen says stiffly, moving her fingers to her pant leg. Pam waves, unacknowledged by Jim, and heads to the refrigerator. "Come on. It could be fun."

"Movie Monday?" Jim asks, full of bitterness. "Come on. I think I have some better things to be doing around here." He scoffs and takes a swig from his water bottle.

"Why are you so against this?" Karen asks defensively. The tension in the room increases exponentially with each second. "Do you not like the movie?"

Jim stares at Pam. The door to the refrigerator shuts with a loud thwack. He swallows hard, "It just brings back bad memories. That’s all." His eyes never leave Pam’s. After a three second stare-down, Jim scratches his head and looks down.

Pam grabs her lunch and tries her hardest to keep a stony face.

"Do it for me?" Karen whispers to Jim. She leans against the counter, pressing her body against his. Not looking at Pam as she quickly walks back to her desk, he silently agrees. She pecks him on the cheek and they walk in the conference room together.

Neither of them see Pam at her desk, crying.

***

Pam walks into the conference room twenty minutes into the movie. Her eyes are puffy, but she explains rationally that it’s her allergies, even though no one asks her what’s wrong.

She takes an open seat in the back row of chairs, and instantly regrets it when she realizes she is directly behind Jim and Karen. Karen’s head, rested on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her, running his hands along her back.

She feels like crying again.

She tries to enjoy the movie, but finds it increasingly obvious, the comfier Jim and Karen get.

Angela, sitting to the right of Pam, notices her tearfulness. Without hesitation, she taps Karen on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, but this is still a workplace." She stays sternly, not bothering to whisper. Karen wipes her eyes wearily, and mumbles an apology. She and Jim just sit side by side watching the film.

"Pipe down, Chachi!" Michael turns around, scolding Angela. Surprisingly, he is getting into the film.

She’s stuck. She can’t leave the conference room, so she looks over and sees them. Her heart can’t stand that, so she looks forward the movie is on. She makes an attempt to watch the movie and focus on it, but all her memories keep retreating to that night.

So for now, she’s stuck with no escape.

At the end of the day, everybody had gathered in the conference room, expecting to finish the movie.  Michael stood at the front of the room, next to the TV, with a look of doom on his face.

“Can I have everybody’s attention for a minute?”  Michael says, quieting the small buzz of chatter in the room.  “Due to circumstances outside of my control, which had absolutely nothing to do with me, or have any fault of my own...”  He continues, his voice quavering with nerves.  “We will not... be finishing the movie today.”

The entire office had a small look of disappointment.

“Are you saying you lost it?  Because you’ve gotta find it.  The Netflix people are already mad at me because I lost How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.”  Kelly said, her voice wrought with anxiety.

***

“Okay, I didn’t lose the other movie.”  Kelly admits several minutes later. “Kate Hudson looks so good in that movie, and Matthew McConghaey is totally hot.  Even though he did that whole bongo thing.  That was total loserville.”

***

“Michael, I’m not sure recreating that particular scene where Kat dances on the tables would be the most... appropriate thing… for the office environment.”

Toby speaks in that tone he always has to take when dealing with Michael. And here with Michael’s hare-brained ideas.

Michael scoffed.  “Come on, Toby!  I know you’re in Human Resources and incapable of human emotion, but this...” He motions towards Pam in a suggestive way, “It’s a great idea!  It would totally improve morale around here.”

Kevin chimes in, “Totally.  I know I would work SO much faster...”

Pam sighs with disgust.  “You guys, I am not going to do a drunken dance on the reception desk.”

Michael frowns at this.  “Come on, Pamster!  Kat does it in the movie, why can’t you...”

“Michael...”  Toby interjects in Pam’s defense.  “It’s just a movie.  And this is the workplace, so I can’t force Pam to do a dance if she doesn’t want to.”

Pam grins victoriously at Toby, and a warm feeling washes over him.  Michael and Kevin both sigh with defeat, and Pam retreats to the break room.

“What an ironic twist: Toby the Pervert doesn’t want to see a hot woman dancing.”  Michael says, kicking his feet around.  “I should’ve fired you when I had the chance.”

Toby scratches his head.  “Michael, you’ve never had the…chance…to fire me.”

Michael stares at him in silence for a minute, realizing that Toby was right.  “Well, I wish I had.”

***

Creed stands up from his spot in the conference room and begins to leave the room.

“How’s it shaking, Mitchell?”  Creed said, nonchalantly.  He gave Michael a pat on the back as he made his way back to his desk. 

Karen leans and whispers to Jim, “I think Creed has something under his shirt.”

Jim glances out the corner of his eye and doesn’t notice anything that unusual about Creed.  He can’t help but think of the time he and Pam caught Creed with Kevin’s copy of American Pie 2.

“Nah, it’s probably nothing,” he replies. 

***

“I can’t find the movie. I am making the people in the office reenact the script.  It’s not that hard.  God, I can’t figure out where the disc went!   It’s not like it could’ve sprung legs and walked out of the office.”  Michael says, a hint of concern in his voice.  “Unless Toby used some more of his voodoo magic on it to punish the office.”  He pauses, seriously contemplating the idea.  His eyes widen, and he suddenly rushes out of the office.

***

“One time I accidentally brought one of Sasha’s stuffed dolls to work in my briefcase.”  Toby speaks, obviously having been confronted by Michael already.  “Michael found it, obviously mistook it for a voodoo doll, and threatened to have me fired on the account of me being a practicing magician, and not the cool David Copperfield kind.  There really is no response to that kind of… accusation.”  Toby scratches his head, and sighs in annoyance.

***

Creed was sitting at his desk, feet propped up on the edge.  He had the phone up to his ears.   “Steve, Creed Bratton here.   How much do you know about these shiny silver discs?”

***

Creed smiles proudly.  “Yep, that was me.”  He even holds up the DVD in accomplishment.  “I’m not quite sure what these things do, but I’ve got an old buddy who’s quite knowledgeable in electronics.  He’s a young man I met at the shelter, not quite sure how he wound up there..”  He stops for a minute, recollecting his thoughts.  “Besides, I’ve stopped caring about stealing things a long time ago.”

***

The women in the office mumbled how they wanted to see the end.  Michael, wanting to end the restlessness, once again catches their attention.

“I have an idea.”  He bursts in, his voice cracking with excitement.  “How many of you have seen the movie before?”  Pam, Kelly, Kevin, and Oscar all raise their hands.  Michael claps and grins.  “Alright, I can go print out some quotes off Indv...”

“You mean IMDB?”  Jim interjects, and Michael nods.

“Yeah.  That’s what I said.  We can act it out.  Dunder Mifflin Theater presents...” He trills his tongue, doing a drum roll.

No one is in suspense.

“Michael, we talked about this...” Toby speaks slowly, reminding him of the conversation that had taken place earlier.

“Well thank you, Mr. Buzzkill.”  Michael says, annoyed once more.  He scratches his head.  “We don’t have to do that scene, anyway.  Kevin can be the idiot jock Joey and… Phyllis can be the – Ah yes Stanley!  My brotha – you can be the English teacher who likes to rant about racism in schools today.”

“I will not,” Stanley drones.

“Fine, um….  Pam! You can be like Kat, you’ve been scorned by love, yes!”

“No, Michael, she won’t do that.” Jim interrupts.

At that moment, Pam turns to Jim.  She sees him holding Karen’s hand.  He can’t even look her in the eyes anymore.

Bad memory.  That’s all she is.

“No, Michael, I’ll do something.”  Pam says, standing up.  Michael looks over at Toby with a ‘take that’ look on his face.  Toby sits silently.

She rips the sheets of paper from Michael’s hands and glances at the top page.  Pam takes one deep breath, and remembers the lines of that movie she had seen so many times. 

 “I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.  I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.” 

With a sudden breath of confidence, she shifts her gaze from the carpet to Jim. 

“I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme.  I hate the way you’re always right.  I hate it when you lie.”

The hard part is over she thinks to herself.   She continues, unwavering.  “I hate it when ...” She breaks and silent tears start streaming down her cheeks.

“I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry.  I hate it when you’re not around and the fact that you didn’t call...”

She is reminded of all the times that she mentally willed him to pick up the phone, especially when her wedding went awry.  Her voice begins to waver.  This bravado is running out quickly.

The space between Jim and Karen grows.

“But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you.  Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”  Pam stops speaking, and looks around.  The room is dead silent.  There was absolutely no reaction at all.

In a panic, Pam rushes from out the room.  She just grabs her coat, and runs into the parking lot.

Nobody follows her.

Then, suddenly, Michael begins clapping loudly.  “Wow!”  He says, tears nearly flooding his eyes.  “That is what I call acting!”

The whole Movie Monday fiasco had lead to an overload in paperwork, faxes, and voicemails to return.  Pam was in the middle of a sizeable heap when Michael approached her desk with urgency.

"Pamster, I need you to stop whatever it is you're doing, because I've got a very important task for you to complete."

Pam sighs heavily, and prepares herself for the worst.  "What is it, Michael?"

Michael spoke between gasping breaths, as if he had run from the parking lot to her desk.  "I need you to go on WebMD, or Wikipedia or wherever you look up words."

"You mean a dictionary?"  She asks, eyeing the camera suspiciously.

Michael mumbles, collecting his thoughts.  "Yeah, whatever you wanna call it.  I need you to find out what this is."  In his hands, he holds a small pebble.

"That's a rock, Michael."   She states plainly, and frankly getting annoyed with Michael right now.

"I know it's a rock, Pam.  God!  I want to blog about it.  I was walking back from my car and found it in my shoe.  People on the web would love to hear about this story and so I'm going to blog about it.  And any good professional writer knows that they need to have the facts.  The facts of life.  So just Google it and find out what you call a rock in a shoe.  Pronto, Pamo...get on that because I'm busy, busy,busy.  Like a bee. Queen Bee, no." Michael shakes his head "King Bee..." Michael quietly turns away and starts to go to his office.

She looks over at Jim, sitting at his desk, who appears to be oblivious to everything else in the office besides the scrap piece of paper that he seems to be digging his pen into.  She remembers one year ago: the voice mail, spending her day avoiding Michael's contact, trying to figure out what that term for a rock in your shoe was and never actually finding out.  That day every time she looked up, she hoped Michael wouldn't be there and that she'd catch Jim's familiar gaze, sharing a private joke only through their eye contact.

Now, he can't even look at her.

She snaps out of the memory, her blood boiling and lashes out a year's worth of frustration at Michael. "Michael, no.  I'm buried in work right now, and you need to just... do it yourself."

Michael has a look of shock on his face.  "Sheesh, Pam.  Who crapped in your cornflakes?"

Her eyes never leave Jim's back.  Even though Michael's question was rhetorical, she speaks loud enough for him to hear.  "No one, I mean nothing's wrong.  It's just... a bad memory."

She gets up, mumbles a pathetic excuse, and promptly leaves the reception area.

Jim watches as she leaves, then waits five minutes to follow her.

***

"What's going on, Pam?"  He says, taking a seat next to her in the stairway.  She is sitting comfortably with her back pressed against the wall.

"I don't know."  She says, taking a deep breath. "Between my thin-walled apartment, and being totally backed up with work, I just can't seem to catch a break." Her voice says the words but her body tells another story. 

"My neighbors on the left fight every other night, and the neighbor on the right with the trumpet..."  She says, chuckling through the terror she's feeling inside.

"I mean with you and me."  He interrupts, sick of hiding behind things.

She looks down, and plays with the hem of her button up shirt.  "Things have just been weird between us, and I didn't really... realize it until now."

He looks at her with sympathetic eyes.  "Did you think things weren't going to be weird between us?  That I could just forget everything else that happened?"

"I don't know what I expected."  She says defensively.  "I just never really thought about it at all."

"You shot me down, Pam.  Do you know how long it took me to get over that?"  He speaks softly, the wounds still open.  "I'm still not over it.  But I'm with Karen now.  And things are good."  He says, almost like he's trying to convince himself.

"Well, I'm sorry for what I did to you."  She apologizes, finally looking into his eyes.  "And I guess what I'm trying to say is that..."  She looks at him, remaining locked in his stare.  "I don't want to be just a bad memory."

He sucks in one deep breath, and lets her last sentence sink in.  He says, matter of factly, "I have a girlfriend."

She nods slowly and replies honestly, "I know."  She stands up, straightening out her skirt.  "I better get back to work."

He watches her walking away, all these thoughts rushing through his mind.  Was he really happy with Karen?  Could he forgive Pam just like that, at the drop of a hat, after one five-minute talk and a potentially misguiding metaphor? 

This was going to break someone's heart.

***

Kelly was on her way to Pam's desk to rant about how wrong her date with Ryan had went, when she noticed something shiny sitting on Creed's desk.

She waited for Creed to take his headphones off before confronting him.

"Creed, is that my DVD?"  She says, squeaking with anger.

"Slow your roll, momma.  What's a DVD?  Is that something you can catch on the El train?"  He spoke like he had all the time in the world.  Kelly just looked confused, and just snatched the DVD from him.  Once she confirmed that it was her disc, she strutted back to her desk.

***

"Thanks to the Indian chick Callie, I will not be sleeping in a warm bed, my belly full of bread and split pea soup."  Creed says, his voice full of sadness.  "It'll just be me in my car with hopefully some back alley scraps."

***

Kevin and Meredith had gathered at the fax machine, talking about forms, when Pam entered the room.

"Oh hey Pam."  Kevin utters.  "You know, I still think you should do the whole dance..."

"No."  Pam reiterates, and Kevin looks slightly depressed.

"Good for you, Pam.  Some creep in college made me do drunken strip teases, and look where I ended up.  A divorced mother working in a paper supply company."  Meredith says, hoping to part some wisdom.

"I'll keep that in mind."  Pam gives Meredith a smile, eyes the camera suspiciously, and sits down at her computer and returns to her game of solitaire.

***

"I don't know that anything is going on with Jim and Pam right now.  She seems kind of whiny, actually."  Karen says, annoyed that the camera crew has been so determined to find something going wrong in her relationship.  "Jim and I are happy.  Totally happy.  Why wouldn't we be happy?"  She speaks fast, and kind of paranoid.  "Despite the fact that we haven't seen each other much in the last few days outside of work.  And I think he's avoiding my calls.  So.... yeah.  Everything's great."

***

"What am I going to do?"  Jim repeats the question. "About what?  I'm with Karen now."  He sounds unsure of himself.  The cameraman pushes the subject a little further.  "She said that?"

***

"I don't want to break up Jim and Karen.  If they're really happy, then that's great."  Pam says, diplomatically.  "I mean, if Jim showed up next week, saying he's totally over her..."  She shakes her head, letting go of the silly notion.  "No.  I just want Jim to be happy.  If that means we can only be friends, then that's great.  I just miss him, that's all."

***

"Seriously..."  Michael says, frustratingly typing on his computer.  "How hard is it to find one simple phrase for something in your shoe? I mean, what else is Wikipedia for?   They have pages on the war in Iraq, on famous presidents and all that boring hooplah.  Why not one page on slang or something?  Online encyclopedia."  He scoffs.  "But seriously.  Do you guys know what the word for having a rock in your shoe is?"

Two Weeks Later...     

Michael sits at his desk, a very sullen expression on his face.  The cameraman, trying to be polite, asks him if he's doing okay.  "No, I am not okay.  I am having a very bad week.  I did not get the job in corporate like I had planned.  Jim, Karen and I were all fighting for the same job, a la Survivor... and it turns out that the strongest man, or should I say woman, survived.  Karen got the cool New York apartment, the job... the ladies, if that's what she so desires.  I probably could have enjoyed that perk more than her."  He looks ... "And to top it all off, I was going to make Ants on a Log, but the store only had chunky and I wanted it creamy."  He purses his lips, a small grin escaping.  "That's what she said."   

 ---   

"Yes, Karen moved to New York to work at Corporate.  And I am very happy for her."  He nods, hoping his physical actions will help his words feel genuine.  "Not getting the job... It's for the best.  I've had some very...compelling offers here in Scranton.  And my prospects are looking good, so... it's for the best."  He grins at the camera, a sincere sense of happiness and excitement in his eyes.   

 ---   

Pam grabbed her jacket, looking around the office, noting that only she and Jim remained loitering after hours.  "All set?"     

Jim nods in agreement and throws his bag over his shoulder.  Pam shuts off the lights and the duo patiently wait for the elevator doors to open and close the awkward silence that threatens to overcome them.     

The ding pulls them into the elevator and they ride down in silence.  The elevator suddenly jars and the lights blink off.  But the momentum is enough to throw Pam off her balance.  Her legs buckle underneath her, she falls in Jim's direction, and he instinctively reaches his arms out to steady her.     

"Whoa."  Jim breathes out loudly and clears his throat.  She's frozen.  She cannot control her motions or hear any thoughts.  Her heart races and all the blood seems to gather in two pink pools in her face.  The elevator pulls and continues its descent downward.   

"Sorry" she whispers and finally regains control of her body.  She gathers her purse and belongings and finds the strength to make her way out of the elevator.   

"Not a problem," Jim replies to her." Have a good one."    

She smiles but words can't seem to percolate in her throat.

She walks slightly behind him on their walk to their cards, as she's gotten used to watching his actions from this angle.  She feels embarrassed that she feels like a teenager when her fingers slightly brush against his.  You know it's not like that with you two anymore.  She can't help but feel that hidden energy and slight bit of electricity that occurs throughout her body whenever she's in his presence.     

She nods as a way to say goodbye, hoping not embarrass herself any further.  Her fingers pull the car door handle open and she notices a small metallic object sitting on her drivers seat.  She knows the sender can only be the one person who just happened to be parked next to her.  

"Jim?"  She calls out, her voice cracking with a mixture of confusion and giddiness.  Looking innocent, he slowly walks away from his car and towards hers.

"Something wrong, Pam?"  His expression is genuinely concerned.

She holds up the tambourine with a smile.  "What's this?" 

"You got a secret admirer I should know about, Pam?"  He gives her a grin that proves he's the culprit.   

 "Oh, yeah.  Well, you know me.  I mean, Michael did almost have me up there doing a table dance... So who knows who this is from?  I may have hundreds of admirers."    

"Hundreds.  Really?" 

"Yes, Jim, I'm very good at what I do." 

"I see.  You are good at what you do."  He smiles to himself at the sincerity of his words--to him, she is beyond good.   "You know, it's not every day you can find a girl who'll reenact a teenage romantic comedy in front of Michael. "  His fingers brush the drumhead, acknowledging his gift once more.  "Besides, it's a real shame if a girl goes through life without getting a tambourine." He proclaims proudly and they both share a knowing smile as they both replay the memory in their head.

"Oh, God." Pam scoffs as she shakes her curls back and forth.  "I can't believe you remembered that!"

Jim takes this as his chance and brushes a lost curl back into its place as he leans in and bridges the gap between their lips. They mesh together in the moment and revel in how right it feels.  He pulls his hands down her arms to wrap himself around her. The electricity of the moment shocks him enough to pull his lips away to ask, "So, Pam" he pauses to lick his lips and tastes the faint hint of Pam. He rests his forehead lightly against hers. "What do you think, good memory or bad?" 

She cocks her head, as if to be critically analyzing her response.  She slides her hands through the vaguely familiar hair and pulls his head back towards hers and mashes her lips against his.  As fast as she had started the movement, she stops and states "Good." Pam pulls her head back towards his.  He wraps his arms around her even tighter and reiterates, "Definitely a good one."