Jim professed his love for her and kissed her on Casino Night.

She rejected him and said she was going to marry Roy anyway.

He never showed up at work again – he called in sick (actually, he just e-mailed in sick – he probably couldn't even stand talking to her) and two days later Michael announced Jim's tranfer to Stamford.

A week later she broke off the engagement with Roy, ending a ten year relationship with the only man she had ever been with.

She tried to tell herself it wasn't because of Jim. With all her heart she wanted to convince herself that she and Roy just weren't good for each other and no third party was involved in the decision she made. She didn't want to have cheated emotionally on her fiancé and she certainly didn't want to face the possibility that maybe she had misled Jim or encouraged him in any way when she wasn't single.

That was why she hadn't contacted him yet, even though she cancelled the wedding three days ago.

Besides, he probably hated her now, after she had rejected him twice. Somehow, she couldn't blame him.

Because, let's face it. She was just the worst person in the world.

---

“Pamela!” Michael greeted her from the door. “How are you holding up? Everything okay?”

“I'm fine, Michael,” she answered stiffly. She had a feeling Michael was going to ask her this for the rest of her life, even if she one day managed to finally “land another husband”, as he subtly put it the day before. She knew it was kind of him, but she found herself unable to even remotely appreciate it.

She had broken up with Roy on Saturday, on Sunday she was already living by herself and Roy was at his brother's and on Monday the cat was out of the bag the minute Kelly noticed her ringless finger and squealed loud enough for the corporate in New York to hear her:

“Oh my God, Pam! Did you guys break up?!”

For someone so self-absorbed, that Kelly was certainly very observant.

She didn't want to get into the details just yet, so she only nodded her head and tried to avoid the subject. That was, of course, all in vain. She didn't say she was the one who broke it off, so to her surprise everyone apparently assumed it was Roy's decision, at least judging by their reactions. She could swear Kelly actually turned teary-eyed everytime she spotted Pam, Angela eyed her occasionally with a badly disguised spark of triumph and Kevin had the audacity to ask her if Roy decided to “exchange her for an upgraded model”, the question accompanied by a most indecent giggle.

Michael assumed his best-boss-in-the-world-behavior, inviting her to lunch. She could almost hear the wheels in his head spinning, as he probably wondered whether it was entirely inappropriate to take a woman to Hooters, since she was banned for life at Chili's anyway and it was well known those were his favorite places in Scranton. She politely declined, though, because there's only so much a girl can take in one week. Instead, she ate her mixed berry youghurt in the break room and spent that time wondering where her life took the wrong turn.

Because 'wrong' seemed like a very appropriate word. Ten years of a relationship dissolved into nothing. Her best friend was gone and not talking to her. And she just didn't know what to do.

And now it was Tuesday and nothing changed. Ryan was still sitting at Jim's desk, a sight that broke her heart. Kelly was still bewailing yesterday's news and everyone else either glanced sympathetically or pretended not to notice her at all. Out of pity, she assumed. She just wished this day would end already.

But Michael... Oh, Michael topped it all. After lunch he showed up, obviously very happy with himself and after clearing his throat, said:

“Everyone in the conference room in five minutes. Participation manadatory!”

“Is this going to be one your morale boosting things?” Stanley inquired.

“Yes, I guess you can call it that,” Michael nodded.

“Then I think I'm going to pass,” Stanley decided and returned to his papers he had been working on before.

“You cannot just pass, my friend, I already said it's mandatory,” Michael pointed out.

“But my morale is just fine, thank you.”

“Yeah, mine too,” Phyllis chimed in quietly from her desk.

“Ah, see, that's where you're wrong, people! It's not your morale we're going to boost! It's Pam's!” Michael finished triumphally, which made Pam drop the packet of jellybeans she had just taken from her drawer (she had a sudden craving for green jellybeans).

“Michael, I...” she started, but her unrelenting boss cut in.

“Pam, say no more! I know you're hurting, I know you cry yourself to sleep every night. We're here to help you get through this. Well, at least I am,” he said, shooting Stanley a disapproving look.

“I don't...”

“Pam-a-lama, we've all been there! And so, I think if we all share stories of our worst break-ups, we will actually make you feel better. It's a very simple psychological mechanism.”

“Are you going to tell how Jan dumped you?” Kelly asked with a stiffened giggle.

“No,” Michael answered slowly. “Because she never did.”

“Yeah, because you never dated,” Stanley mumbled.

“Stanley, I thought you didn't want to take part in our group therapy, so, you know, it's too late to join now.”

Stanley rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, I didn't know the procedures. We didn't have group therapies in the ghetto.”

Pam just sat and stared in disbelief at Michael.

“Please finish whatever you're doing and we'll meet in five... well, now three minutes,” Michael repeated and it seemed that he was about to go inside his office, but Pam stopped him in his tracks.

“I'm not going to take part in it, Michael,” she stated, surprisingly loudly and evenly.

“We can hardly make you feel better if you're not there, Pam,” he opposed.

“But I don't want this. And I'm pretty sure no one else does.”

“You don't know what's good for you,” Michael insisted. “Do you know how much therapy costs? And I could therap... therapise you for free.”

Pam closed her eyes in frustration. She counted to five (ten would be enough for Michael to get back on the roll) and then tried again.

“Michael, I do know what's good for me and there's actually something you could do for me.”

“Anything, Pam,” he agreed earnestly.

“I'd like to take the rest of the day off, if you don't mind. Can I go home?”

He looked a little disappointed, but nevertheless granted his permission with a royal nod of his head. Pam wasted no time in getting up and grabbing her jacket.

“Can I go, too?” Creed stood up from his seat abruptly and started walking towards the door. “I've done all my work for today and I'm kind of hungry. I could use some soup.”

“God, Creed, no, go back to your desk, only Pam can go, she's in a very special condition.” To prove his point, Michael approached the elevator and pushed the button, as if breaking off an engagement was a very exhausting disease, disabling her physically.

“Is she pregnant?” Creed looked Pam up and down curiously, and everyone heard Kelly gasp.

“No! Wait, Pam, are you?” Michael looked at her intently and then added quietly, “That would explain quite a bit, you know. But to leave a pregnant woman is just... fatal. Don't worry, say a word and I'll beat him up. I could take Dwight to hold him while I give him the beating of his life.”

“Yeah, right,” Dwight snorted condescendingly.

And then, Pam just snapped. She rarely did, but sometimes, just like when Michael punked her, enough was enough.

“I'm not pregnant! I just decided I don't want to marry Roy and it's none of your business, so I would appreciate it if you dropped the subject. And for your information, it's not how you use the word fatal.”

“It is on the streets,” Michael sounded offended.

“I just wish everything was different,” Pam muttered rebelliously to herself and was more than relieved when the elevator came and she could finally leave the office behind her.

As the elevator door was closing, the last thing she saw was Creed staring at her with unnerving intensity.

This guy was just the definition of weirdness.

---

She went home and watched TV for eight hours straight. She didn't even feel like calling her mother who was kind enough to take on the responsibility of cancelling the wedding arrangements.

She hated that Michael was, for once, right – but she did cry herself to sleep that night. And she really, really didn't want to think what she was crying over.

---

The next morning Pam woke up to the alarm clock with a slight headache. She reached over to turn it off and nestled against Roy's warm body, wishing she could have at least an hour more before getting up and getting ready for the dreaded work.

The second that thought ran through her mind, her eyes snapped open again and she was definitely fully awake. She jumped out of the bed as if it was on fire.

Just what exactly was Roy doing here?!

Because he was here, in their... in her bed, under his covers she was sure she had put in the closet two days ago.

“Roy, what are you doing here?” she asked weakly, causing him to open one eye.

“Sleeping?” he replied groggily.

“But... but why here?” she pressed, trying not to sound too harsh just yet. Maybe he had some plausible reason, if that was even possible. “Did you get drunk last night?” she sighed. That was probably it. He got drunk, maybe of the anger and frustration, he automatically came here afterwards, not conscious enough to remember he lived with his brother now. Maybe even one of the guys he went out with gave this address to the cab driver.

“No,” Roy opened both of his eyes now. “I drank two beers yesterday, you know I did, 'cause I drank them here with you. What's your point?” he sounded a little irritated.

“My point is that you slept in my bed. Three days after we broke up, Roy. I'm assuming you got drunk and ended up here by accident. It's okay,” she added and even managed to give him a little smile. “Just... make sure it doesn't happen again.”

To her surprise, Roy just laughed.

“Good one, babe. But you're not fooling me with your prank. You want to take the bathroom first?”

“What prank, Roy, I'm serious,” she shook her head nervously. “It was okay when I thought you had been drunk, but now you're making fun of me and...”

“Pam, let it go.” He finally got up lazily from the bed and rubbed his eyes.

“No! It's... it's breaking and entering!”

“Into my own bed?” Roy raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. That only infuriated her more.

“Into my house!”

“Pam... Please, stop. It's our house and this joke? It's not funny anymore.”

“It's not a joke! God, it's so not a joke... Roy, we broke up!”

“Pam...” he started.

“We broke up! You moved, you took most of your stuff with you, I gave you the engagement ring back!” Pam was now yelling in a high-pitched voice revealing that she was close to falling apart completely.

“Pam, you're freaking me out! The ring is here, on your nightstand. You always put it here when you go to sleep.”

Pam turned to look and indeed, there it was – the sparkling jewel she could have sworn she had taken off for good three days ago.

“And look, here is all my stuff, if I had really moved out, it wouldn't be here, right?”

It was all there. Pam clenched her fists and took in a deep breath. His clothes, his stereo, his CDs – it was all there, just like before. Even the ridiculous poster of a monkey dressed as a firefighter was hanging on the wall. She had always hated it and when Roy moved out forgetting about it, she took it down and threw it away in silent frustration. She felt guilty about it the minute it was irrevocably done but now`it seemed that she needn't have worried. The creepy monkey was still here in all its glory.

“No, it wouldn't,” Pam answered in a dull voice.

“If you're not joking, then it was just a dream, babe. Although why you would dream of ditching me, I have no idea,” Roy shrugged his shoulders.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on the floor.

“Well, you can't control your dreams,” Roy reasoned.

“No, I guess not,” Pam bit her lip.

“You okay now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she answered absently. She was obviously far from okay, but God forbid Roy would notice.

“Good. Just try not to drop anything like this on me on June 10,” he laughed.

He went to the bathroom, leaving her alone and she sat down on the bed. She sighed heavily. Her legs felt as if they were made of jello and her hands were trembling. What was happening? Was she out of her mind? She didn't know about any cases of mental ilnesses in her family, but who knows? It seemed impossible that she imagined the events of the last few days. How could a dream be so vivid? It had been tears, cursing and yelling in multicolor and stereo.

She reached tentatively for the ring that was still on the nightstand. It was cold and very real and as she put it back on her finger, she let out a constrained sob.

She could wonder all she wanted, but there was no other rational explanation. Breaking up with Roy was just a dream. She was still engaged and was expected to get married on June 10.

But the ultimate blow came when she realized that she might have dreamt Jim's confession as well.

Pam gradually calmed down on the way to work. Roy drove in silence and she didn't feel like starting any conversation. She watched the road as they passed the familiar streets of Scranton and she tried to figure out if her subconsciousness was trying to tell her something by projecting her a weird dream like last night.

To dump Roy, for example.

She wondered how much was just a figment of her imagination. She couldn't really be sure it was only breaking up with Roy. It had been as vivid as real life, but... To be honest, everything since the Casino Night was a little surreal. Jim telling her he loved her started a time for her that seemed like a trap she didn't know how to get out of.

Isn't it what dreams sometimes feel like?

It was a little too mind boggling for poor Pam.

Thankfully, the ride went by surprisingly quickly, as Roy had to drive rather fast this morning (in her shaken state of mind it took Pam twice as long as usual to get ready for work and they were already late), so she didn't have too much time to ponder.

For some reason, she couldn't force herself to give Roy the traditional kiss on the cheek in the parking lot before they parted ways. He didn't even notice.

Oh yes, her subconsciousness was definitely telling her to dump Roy.

She hesitated a little before pushing the door to the building open.

But when she entered the office, it was obvious that everything was the same as yesterday. Everyone was already at work and barely acknowledged her entering. Only Dwight glanced at her disapprovingly.

No one was sitting at Jim's desk, but she recognized Ryan's jacket on the chair. Ryan himself was not in sight, but she figured he was probably in Michael's office, to get his daily instructions. Michael was very particular about that, especially now that Ryan was about to become a regular employee at Dunder Mifflin.

The first thing she noticed when she sat down at her desk definitely didn't make her feel any better.

The picture Jim had drawn of her on the company stationary and signed simply “From Jim”, was gone. Now, it wasn't exactly a very beautiful drawing and Jim was far from a skilled artist, but she loved it. Jim once suggested they should do an exchange of portraits and while she drew a detailed sketch of him that everyone praised, he resorted to primary school cuteness. And he succeeded, as always. It was cute.

And now the cleaning people must have taken it down. The stupidity of this action was unbelievable. Not that she would put it past them (cleaning out giant artificial cobewebs the day before Halloween? Really?), but their incompetence was unheard of. 'Jim' could be her son and this picture could have been a treasured Mother's Day gift! She could sue, if only in an Ally McBeal universe.

She rolled her eyes as she spinned around in her chair to look for a few faxes she knew she was supposed to do. She found them stacked neatly right next to the phone. The stack looked a bit thinner that yesterday, though .She went quickly through the papers and noticed that some of them weren't here, mostly some sales contracts and a letter Michael wanted her to send to the production company handling the making of the documentary. He wanted to thank them for last year and ask whether they would be coming back in the fall. Well, someone must have done these faxes for her when she left earlier yesterday.

She didn't have a chance to dwell on that too long, because when she looked up she noticed Kelly walking in her direction. Kelly propped herself up against the reception desk and lowered her head before she whispered conspirationally:

“Pam, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you inviting Ryan to the wedding?”

“Um, didn't he get his invitation already?” Pam sighed. It's quite unpleasant to deal with a wedding you thought was already cancelled. That should be cancelled, a rebelling voice inside her said.

“I don't know. But did you send one?” Kelly insisted.

“Of course I did. Why wouldn't I invite Ryan?”

“Well, he's just a temp and he hasn't been working here as long as the rest of us,” Kelly reasoned. “But I'm so glad you're inviting him! It's just that he's so reserved and he doesn't socialize too much with us, he has this lone rider vibe going on, don't you think? Maybe's he'll be more approachable at a wedding. Maybe he'll see me in a different light... He's so hot, Pam. I have no idea how you can sit here all day right in front of him and concentrate on any kind of work! I would trade seats with you if only I could! It's all about location, location, location!” Kelly shook her head in desperation.

“Kelly, you don't think I...?” Pam trailed off, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

“What? No! I'm sorry, Pam, I didn't want to offend you, I know you wouldn't, you're engaged! But I wouldn't blame you, since Ryan is so dreamy. I'd give a lot to go out with him, Pam, a lot, and I'm not exaggerating.”

“Kelly, aren't you and Ryan dating already?” Pam was exasperated by now.

“Don't be a tease, Pam,” Kelly giggled. “I mean, we ate lunch together in the break room last week, but that was totally innocent, Pam, and he barely even said anything.”

How shocking, Pam thought grimly.

“So, do you think you could maybe arrange the seating at the wedding, so that Ryan and I...” Kelly winked at Pam meaningfully.

“Um, sure,” Pam agreed slowly.

“Pam, you are the best!” Kelly squealed. I would never have the courage to ask him out myself,” she confessed before she went back to her desk, sneaking a glance towards Michael's office, which only confirmed Pam's assumption that it was where Ryan currently was.

I need coffee, Pam decided. Before I try to make any sense out of it, I need a cup of very, very strong coffee.

She headed to the break room, where Phyllis was making tea and she exchanged a weak smile with her. But when she opened the cupboard where they kept all their mugs and cups, she made another discovery she wasn't exactly thrilled with.

“Phyllis, where's my teapot?”

“Your teapot?” Phyllis repeated.

“My green teapot,” Pam added, rather unnecessarily, because it was the only teapot she had ever had in the office. “I can't find it,” she complained as she started opening other cupboards and drawers. “I hope Dwight isn't curing a sinus infection with it, or he'll pay dearly.”

“I don't know, Pam, I never noticed that you had a teapot at work,” Phyllis looked a little woried, as she always did when something seemed to go wrong.

“But it always stood right next to your coffee mug in the cupboard, Phyllis. And I've been using it almost everyday,” Pam reminded her.

“I'm sorry, I don't remember,” came the answer in a confused voice.

“I got it last Christmas in the office secret Santa,” Pam tried once more to refresh her friend's memory.

“Didn't you swap your gift for the iPod?”

“I did, but then I exchanged it back for the teapot Jim got me,” Pam explained.

“Was Jim the temp we had before Ryan? No, wait, his name was John, but, well, that's close enough. Did you get a teapot from John?”

Pam took in a shaky breath.

“No, Phyllis, I meant Jim, not John, Jim Halpert. Don't tell me you forgot Jim after he's been gone for just a week! And we never had a temp named John, anyway.”

But Phyllis just gave her a blank stare.

“Jim Halpert,” Pam repeated quietly, trying her best to stay calm while all she wanted to do was sit on the floor and cry.

“Is he someone from the corporate maybe?” Phyllis suggested meekly.

“He's... Yeah, maybe he is,” Pam blinked furiously to fight the tears that threatened to flow any second now. “I'm sorry, Phyllis, I need to... check something...”

She tried not to run from the breakroom to her desk, she knew Phyllis was still watching her and she didn't really want people to start thinking she was crazy. Especially since she apparently was. Her purse was sitting on her desk and she grabbed it hastily. Her hand dived nervously inside to search for something...

And there it was: the iPod Michael got for Ryan, and everyone wanted. Not the cheaper player she eventually ended up getting from Roy. So, whatever she got last year for Christmas, it wasn't important enough to trade it back when she had the iPod. She didn't get the teapot. She didn't get a gift from Jim, because Jim...

But she had to shrug this thought off just yet. She still had to check... check everything she could.

She turned to her computer and clicked on the instant messenger they used at work. Jim's screen name was gone.

She checked her mail. His email address was gone from her list and she skimmed her emails in vain for at least one skimpy forwarded message from him. But there were none.

With trembling hands, she opened the bottom drawer. The one medal from the office olympics she kept, made out of a youghurt lid and paper clips was nowhere to be found.

The implications hit her with an uncanny certainty.

Everything in any way connected to Jim was gone. Everything he drew, wrote, bought – vanished. Everything he had some impact on – never happened. Kelly and Ryan never dated because Kelly never asked Jim to play matchmaker. And – she couldn't believe she didn't notice this before - there were m&m's in the bowl instead of his favorite jellybeans. Phyllis had worked here long years – and yet she didn't know Jim.

She felt a wave of strange coldness wash over her.

No, no, no, she thought. Breaking up was not a dream. This is a dream. I want to wake up, God, please let me wake up.

“Pam, are you alright? You look terribly pale,” Phyllis's concerned voice came as if from another world.

“I'm... I'm fine, just, uh, I just need a second,” Pam replied quietly. She knew Phyllis's eyes were on her as she stood up and made for the exit. By now Dwight was probably staring at her too.

She blindly pushed the door that led to the stairwell and didn't stop until she met a wall. Her palms and forehead came in contact with the cold surface.

To realize she had only imagined three years of a wonderful friendship... That she dreamt Jim himself! It was too much.

A tear trickled down her cheek and she rubbed her eyes angrily.

She could already see white windowless rooms and strait-jackets in her future.

Maybe it's not so bad, she comforted herself. Maybe Dwight and Angela teamed up for the ultimate punishment to make her suffer for all her pranks and hussiness. Maybe they dragged everyone else in this, including Roy, who always seemed to have a weird thing for Angela, after all. Maybe they even paid everyone to do this. Hell, that's what Jim did once.

Or maybe it was Michael's very twisted and cruel way of cheering her up after what happened the day before.

“So, do you like it?” she heard a voice from behind and turned around. She hadn't heard anyone coming out of the office.

It was Creed.

“Do I like what?” she sniffled.

“The new arrangements,” he clarified. “Do you like them?”

“What... what new arrangements?” Pam gave him an inquiring look and could not help but notice that her heart skipped a beat.

The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

“You wished things were different. And they are, aren't they?”

"You wished things were different. And they are, aren't they?” Creed asked.

“What?” Pam was dumbfounded. “When did I wish that?”

“Yesterday, before you left the office.” he answered matter-of-factly.

“But... maybe, but... I think I actually wished everything was different.” she pointed out weakly.

“That would be a little too much to ask, Sam. Don't be a complainer,” Creed rolled his eyes. “I did what I could.”

“You did this?” Pam could almost hear the thud of her jaw hitting the floor. Certainly, Creed was weird, but this...

“Of course,” he shrugged.

“But how?”

“I can't tell you, I'm afraid. If I told you, I...”

“You'd have to kill me?” Pam finished incredulously.

“No, who do you think I am? I wanted to say I'd lose my job, that's all. Just don't ask and you won't be lied to.”

Pam sighed.

“But Creed, you need to tell me what actually happened. What did you do? Why is Jim gone? Did I just wish him into inexistence?” she asked quietly, afraid of his answer. Creed shook his head.

“No one can do that. It doesn't work that way.”

“Well, tell me how it works, then!” she insisted.

“Do you know what a kaleidoscope is?”

“It's a toy? I think I had one as a kid,” Pam recalled.

“Well, yes, there are toy kaleidoscopes. Do you know exactly how it works? It's a tube of mirrors that contains small coloured objects. When you turn the tube, the objects create a different pattern every time, and it's multiplied by the mirrors. But the point is, you get a different pattern with every turn. The beads or pebbles or other objects are still there in the kaleidoscope, but the way they are arranged is never the same. Sometimes you can't even see some of the beads too well. But there's no doubt that they are all still in the kaleidoscope. Are you following?”

“I guess,” Pam nodded.

“So if we assume that life is like a kaleidoscope, do you understand what that means?” Creed asked.

“That the bead that is Jim moved?” she guessed.

“Yes, it moved and created a completely different pattern,” he axplained. “What you see is only a glimpse of the changes, but you must realize there are other out there.”

“Like?”

“Well, there are other people whose lives he never got to affect. His friends, even some strangers, and you have to remember that his family probably lives somewhere else now. They could be anywhere in the world, making a difference in the lives of people they never met in the previous pattern. Really, that creates a very complicated chain reaction.”

“But he exists, right? Like the beads in the kaleidoscope, he's still here. He is somewhere?”

Pam needed this fact confirmed like she never needed anything in her life. And even though it was all overwhelming, at least it was starting to make some sense. Very, very bizarre sense.

“Most likely, yeah, he is,” Creed replied.

“I do not like the sound of it, Creed,” Pam complained nervously.

“I can guarantee you that he was born. But his life took a different route and we can't be sure that on this route a truck didn't smash into him when he was twelve years old.”

“What?” Pam's eyes went wide.

“Calm down, it's just a possibility,” Creed waved his hand dismissively. “As I said, he's probably well and alive,”

“This isn't much of a consolation when he can be practically anywhere... God, can he really be anywhere? Like, I don't know, in China?”

“I'll have you know that China is a very nice country,” Creed produced a nostalgic smile.

“I'm sure it is, but I'd rather Jim didn't speak Mandarin Chinese in this freaky universe!”

“You're right,” he nodded. “I myself prefer Cantonese, too.”

Pam just ignored this comment.

“Listen, Creed. It's all very interesting, but why did you think taking away Jim was what I needed?” Pam asked in disbelief.

“Come on, wasn't he your problem?”

“No!”

“But he kissed you when you were engaged, he made you rethink your relationship with that guy, you were unhappy. Wasn't that enough to eliminate him?”

“Okay, please don't say eliminate,” Pam protested, not even wondering how Creed knew all of that. “And... it's true, I was unhappy, but... It wasn't his fault...”

It was my fault, Pam thought. If I have to blame anyone, I can only blame myself.

She folded her hands.

“Creed, I hope you realize you have to turn it back,” she looked him sternly in the eye. “You misinterpreted my wish. You're a salesman. Consider it a letter of complaint.”

“I'm afraid that's not possible,” Creed replied. “It's not like selling paper, Sam. You can't just replace the wrong shipment. I am just one of many, well, many in this industry, and all our actions must be approved by the boss and synchronized in the headquarters, because if it gets out of control, the world will drown in chaos. And one of the rules is, no turning back. Once the kaleidoscope is turned, that's it.”

“Can't you pull some strings?”

“I can try, but I'm sure it won't do any good. The boss makes no exceptions.”

“Can I see the boss?” she asked hopefully, but Creed just laughed. “Okay, can you at least find out where Jim is?”

“The headquarters don't provide us with such information.”

“Fine, I'll just look for him by myself,” she said stubbornly. “Whether it's Pennsylvania, China or Poland, I'll find him. We live in a global village, for God's sake.” There was a minute of silence, before Creed said seriously:

“He won't recognize you. You two have never met.”

Pam stared intently at her shoes.

“I don't care,” she said quietly. “I just don't care.”

And she didn't.

“Okay,” he gave up. “You can search if you want, and I'll try to see what I can do, but don't get your hopes up, alright? I think you need to go home now and process it. You can just pretend you're not feeling well, or something,” he suggested.

“Oh, believe me, I don't have to pretend,” Pam assured him bitterly. “If this office was ruled by anyone but Michael, I would be fired like that! I went home earlier yesterday, and now I'm going to leave again, even though I barely got here an hour ago.”

“Not really,” Creed smiled. “You actually worked full hours yesterday.”

“Right,” she muttered. “I didn't have to leave yesterday because Roy and I haven't broken up and Michael didn't want to throw a group therapy session. Wait, Creed,” she pulled on his sleeve before they entered the office. “I have one more question. Why I am aware of all of this? Why do I see all the changes? Why didn't you just make them and let me think I have lived like this, no Jim, all along?”

“So you can appreciate it,” was his answer.

Oh, the irony.

“Creed,” Pam started slowly. “Whatever your job is, you totally suck at it.”

---

When Pam came home, she couldn't help but look around all the time. It was... strange. Strange and empty. It was stupid, she knew. The changes at the office were bound to be much more significant than here. Jim never even visitied her here.

But she still felt the emptiness creep out of every corner.

Because no matter how small, the changes were here. Maybe the biggest one of all was that she had, in the new reality, never thought of Jim here. Maybe she was just talking herself into believing in it, but she could really feel the difference. Before, she used to sit next to Roy, on the couch, and stare mindlessly at the TV, at the same time thinking of the latest prank Jim pulled on Dwight or a funny story he had told her. She prepared dinner in the kitchen and smiled when his ham and cheese popped into her mind.

But that was all before Creed turned her stupid kaleidoscope.

Where are you, Jim, she thought sadly.

There was nothing here he touched or saw or gave her. And she needed something badly. Something, anything.

When a certain idea hit her, she almost let herself smile. Wherever he is... maybe he still likes that song, this band, she thought hopefully. This is the only straw to hold on to that she could think of now.

Pam kneeled in front of the CD rack. The albums were organized alphabetically and her finger traveled to the letter T.

The disappointment was painful. Well, of course. It wasn't here. “The Invisible Band” wasn't here. How could she be so stupid to believe it would be? It didn't only remind her of Jim, she also bought it off his recommendation. She started pulling out more and more CDs – she knew she used to have Travis's “The Man Who” as well, but it was gone too. And so was Ash, and Supergrass, and The Charlatans, and Turin Brakes.

That was the last drop.

Pam bit her lip so hard that she could feel the taste of blood in her mouth.

She had managed to stay relatively calm during the conversation with Creed. She was composed when she asked Michael if she could leave and when she took the bus home.

But now she just snapped. It was too much.

She had never felt like this – so angry, frustrated and furious with her own helplessness. It was a powerful feeling, it crawled up, tightening her chest and throat, staining her cheeks with red spots and creating a buzz in her ears.

She found herself frantically clearing out the CD rack of all the albums – she pulled them all out and started opening the cases fervently, as if she could find the lost CDs there. Every open CD was thrown on the floor and she moved on to another.

It was unfair. She didn't deserve it. No one deserved to have their life turned upside down like this!

She just wished everything was different. People do that all the time! Why did her wish had to be granted?

And why did it take Jim away from her?

Jim, Jim, Jim, Jim, Jim, Jim, she repeated fervently, as if this could bring him from wherever he was.

That much was clear. She just wanted Jim.

And swaying is dancing, damn it!

Pam didn't know how long it took her, but finally the floor was covered with plastic cases, booklets and silver CDs. Not quite satisfied with the mess she made, she reached for the DVD shelf, fully intending to wreak havoc with it. She was quite sure that a few movies had to be missing there as well. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted a tape labeled simply: Dundies 2005. Oh yes. Michael presented them with those every year.

Pam took a steadying breath.

This was her chance to see one event without Jim play out.

She popped the tape into the VCR and pushed play.

Needless to say, he wasn't there.

She sat frozen in front of the TV. Watching this new version of the Dundies was almost more surreal than all the changes she noticed that day in the office.

It began just like she rememembered, with Michael singing and than making some stupid joke. Then it was revealed that everyone had to pay for themselves and shortly after, Roy, Darryl and on-screen Pam left Chili's. Michael handed out Phyllis's award and then put on false teeth and glasses. The show went on and when Ryan got his Hottest in the Office award and Pam still hadn't come back inside, she realized that it wasn't going to happen.

She felt a wave of shame wash over over. That was it? She went back because of Jim? She was that dependant on him? Apparently without him in the picture, there wasn't even a point in fighting with Roy. Or maybe they fought, but she just gave in.

She never thought she was so weak.

On the screen, Michael kept announcing the awards and trying to entertain his audience. Pam watched in sudden apathy as Angela and Kelly reacted to their Dundies. It wasn't until another of Michael's song that she felt a spark of curiosity again. Because his fascinating rendition of Tiny Dancer was cut off in the middle and the interior of Chili's was replaced with a shot of Michael's office. With a smile he explained that due to unavoidable circumstances the ceremony had to be cut short and the rest of the staff received their statuettes in much less glamorous surroundings. Next day at the office, he added.

The video ended and the screen went black.

Well, Pam thought, this makes sense. She remembered those guys mercilessly mocking Michael and how she and Jim cheered him on and encouraged him to continue the Dundies. But this time, they were not there. And obviously no one else came to Michael's rescue.

He must have just given up and edited the mocking part out.

It was surprisingly heartbreaking. She wasn't the only one worse off without Jim.

She reached for the cupboard right next to the TV. That's where she kept the Dundies in a cardboard box. She would have much rather thrown them out – she hated them – but Roy insisted on keeping the awards. Something to show the grandkids, he said. Pam had no idea why they their grandchildren would enjoy seeing that it took their grandfather long years before he finally decided it was time for a wedding, but she complied.

She opened the box.

Her Dundies. She sighed shakily. The number was correct, but the tags were wrong. There was one more Longest Engagement Dundie than normally and no Whitest Sneakers Award.

So that was Jim's doing too? Did he just go to Michael and ask him to give her a different award for a change? He must have known how much she hated the engagement Dundies humiliation, but what sense did it make? If he really loved her, wouldn't it benefit him more if Michael once more dragged out her neverending engagement to the light of day? It would certainly only fuel her irritation with Roy, and if you were in love with an engaged girl, something like this had to be good in your books, right?

But he still did this for her.

Because he loved you even more than that, you idiot, she told herself as the realization dawned on her. Because he loved you so much that for the longest time he just wanted you to be happy, even if it meant you were happy with with another man. He had to suffer so much and you never saw it. And when he finally couldn't take it anymore, you took his heart and ripped it into pieces.

The tears started flowing freely now and for the first time that day, she made no attempt to stop them. She sat on the floor, her face buried in her knees, surrounded by open CD cases strewn around everywhere.

For the next hour, Pam Beesly was nothing more than a sobbing, pitiful bundle of regret.

---

When Roy came home after work that afternoon, he found the room as tidy as usual, without any trace of what happened before. All CDs were in their respective places. Pam managed to collect herself and now here she was, her face rosy from the crying, but washed, her eyes only slightly puffy, a sparkle of strange determination in them.

She was sitting in the living room on two fully packed suitcases with her arms folded in a defensive gesture and it didn't take Roy too long to figure out that there probably wasn't going to be any wedding.

Breaking up with Roy for the second time wasn't as exhausting as it had been in the previous pattern. His anger, confusion, denial and disappointment were just the same, but Pam found herself feeling strangely detached. She felt as if it didn't really concern her, as if she was just a messenger delivering him the bad news. The first time, she cried and trembled and shouted together with him and begged him to forgive her. This time she was too drained emotionally to go through that whole process.

As unfair as it probably was towards Roy, she just couldn't bring herself to act more compassionately. She rather felt like a victim herself, having to go through all of this for the second time.

She didn't stay at home this time, just slept at the hotel that night and figured she would think about finding a new apartmen later. Later... When she found out something, anything about Jim.

She called her mother to tell her about the break-up, but ended the conversation as soon as possible. Her mother had to know, for purely practical reasons (everything had to be cancelled and she briefly wondered if in that parallel universe she would also be stuck with fish-or-chicken lunch for what had seemed like the rest of her life). But Pam didn't feel up to any longer conversations.

Everything had to wait.

It was time to focus on Jim, the way she obviously should have done a long time ago. If she had, right now she wouldn't be in the most improbable situation in the world.

Dwight's favorite sci-fi shows were probably full of stuff like that. The problem was, she always considered her life more of a drama. A dramedy sometimes, when Jim was around.

Oh well. Maybe Dwight could lend her some DVDs.

***

“So?” Pam asked Creed. She had impatiently waited for fifteen minutes after he came in to work and snuck up to his desk the moment she was sure no one could hear their conversation. “Do you have any news for me? Good news, preferably,” she added sternly.

“Already? Of course not. It's going to take longer than that, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I did sign up for a hearing at the headquarters. But I have no idea when they'll see me. It could be a week, it could be a month, a year even.”

“A year?!” Pam exclaimed, terrified. “There is no absolutely no way I am waiting that long!”

“Look, I am doing what I can. And I already told you it probably won't change anything.” Creed sighed. It's most disconcerting to know your job well done is not appreciated the way it should be.

“But there is a chance,” Pam said stubbornly.

“There always is...”

“That's all I need to know,” Pam assured him.

“...but you've got a better chance of winning the lottery.”

Pam folded her arms defensively

“I'll have you know I did win a lottery once. At the Lackawanna County Fair. I won a chest of drawers. So I'm taking your words as a good sign.”

“That's... great. But I meant more like a state lottery, you know. Where you win money. Not furniture.”

His comment was met with silence. It was time for a peace offering.

“You know, you can start searching for him by yourself,” Creed said encouragingly. “It won't change the pattern, but at least you can try to find out something about him in this one.”

“How?” she looked at him curiously.

“Well, I guess you could start by consulting the most powerful medium of our age,” he smiled.

“The most powerful medium?” Pam looked at him doubtfully. “I don't know who that would be. Does she live in, like, India? Egypt? I mean, I guess it's a woman. Aren't they usually women? But I can hardly afford a trip to India or Egypt.”

“Oh, Sam, you do realize we live in the twenty first century, don't you?” “There is a certain medium that can't tell you anything about the future, but a lot about the past and present, and that's what you want anyway, right?”

“I guess,” Pam replies, still at a loss.

“I don't know how you got that job, seriously,” Creed said disapprovingly. “Wasn't computer skills one of the requirements?”

“Computer skills? Oh... You mean...” Pam trailed off as the realization dawned on her. She glanced at the computer screen behind Creed.

“Yeah, oh.”

“The internet,” she said, to herself as much as to Creed.

“Exactly,” he nodded.

“And that will help?”

“It won't hurt, that much I can tell you,” he said. “But he could easily be there somewhere. Maybe his dogs are award winning champions and his name will be on every dog-related site.”

“Yeah, I don't think so. Jim doesn't have a dog,” Pam pointed out.

“He could, in this pattern.”

She just groaned.

***

Pam sat in front of her computer screen, the browser window proudly displaying the familiar Google site. It waited for her, invited her to type those two little words. Jim Halpert. She could do it any moment. Then, she would hit the search button. And then maybe, just maybe, she would know.

But maybe she wouldn't.

Maybe he changed his name.

Maybe he changed his name because he was in the witness protection program.

Or maybe he changed his name because he was a criminal and was running away from the FBI.

Well, maybe he wasn't a criminal, maybe everyone just thought he was one, but he was really innocent. Like in The Fugitive.

Pam shook her head. Stop it, she scolded herself. There's not much chance of FBI being after Jim. That was simply ridiculous. Still, he could be anyone. A doctor. An accountant. A writer. A truck driver. A rock musician. Pam smiled to herself. That would he be something. He would like that. Well, he wasn't a great singer as far as she knew, but who cares. Maybe he could be a lead guitarist. In a band called The Paperclips. She chuckled.

Get a grip on yourself, Beesly, she thought. Just type the damn name.

She almost couldn't feel her fingers when she hit the keys. Jim Halpert. Done. Now search.

It seemed as if someone else hit the button for her.

She instantly closed her eyes. She was, needless to say, terrified to look. Half a minute went by when her wimpy side fought a battle with the little bit of courage she possessed. After that time, her internal referee announced the victory of the little bit. The wimp inside her was deafeated, for the time being.

She looked at the screen.

There was a long list of links to various sites. She was going to check them all, but when she saw the fourth from the top, she froze.

No.

No, no, no.

Impossble.

He really couldn't...

***

“So he works at Dunder Mifflin, why is that a bad thing?” Creed asked, inspecting the printout of Jim's profile Pam brought him.

“It's not,” Pam took a shaky breath. “It's a good thing, actually.”

“So why do you look like you want to kill me?”

“Because I do? Look, you had me scared to death that Jim was thousands of miles away from me. And he's at Dunder Mifflin!”

“But he's at the corporate,” Creed said.

“But it's still Dunder Mifflin!” Pam's hands were trembling when she ran them through her hair nervously. “We're working at the same company. And New York is only two and a half hour away. I can't believe this.”

“I don't know what to say. It's just a coincidence.”

“I just don't get it, you know. He could be anyone, he could be doing anything, and yet he still works here! It's just... weird...”

“I'm not responsible for that. I didn't choose his new life. I could only choose what to change in yours. And that was never meeting him,” Creed explained patiently.

“But if Jim works at Dunder Mifflin, that means that maybe we've actually met at some point,” Pam said hopefully.

“I don't think that's very likely. How many people from the corporate come here, except for the blonde Michael lusts after?” Creed said dismissively.

“Well, that Brenda girl went on the booze cruise with us,” Pam recollected. And then she vaguely remembered that Jim went, or at least wanted to go on a date with said Brenda. And now they're working in the same office. Great. They were probably having wild monkey sex right at that moment, in a supply closet or something.

“I don't think she was in PR, though,” Creed remarked. “And look, that's where he is. He really would have no interest in coming to Scranton. Really, I don't want you to get your hopes up. The point of what I did was to remove him from your life and though he didn't go that far, it still worked. It doesn't really matter that he's at Dunder Mifflin. He doesn't know you, period. Of course, if you really want him to get to know you, it helps if he's close. If that's what you really want,” he repeated.

“It is.”

“Well, then I guess the rest is up to you,” he said slowly. “You know your way to New York. I just wanted to make sure. I mean... He can be changed. He grew up somewhere else, he had different friends. Just different influences, you know? He might not be the person you knew.”

“I find it hard to believe Jim could ever change for the worst,” Pam smiled faintly.

“He could be married. He could have children,” Creed added. He didn't want to be cruel, but it had to be said.

“I know that,” Pam exhaled loudly. “Don't you think I know that? But I just have to find out. If he's married... Well, I'm not going to try to steal him away from his wife, or anything. Of course I wouldn't do that. But I have to know if I have the slightest chance. I can fight for him then. He deserves that, you know. I hurt him so bad...”

“But he doesn't know that,” Creed argued.

“But I do!” Pam insisted. “The fact that he doesn't remember me doesn't change a thing.”

“Yeah, about that.” Creed cut in.

“About what?” Pam asked warily. She was really hoping no more revelations would come her way. Things were already confusing enough.

“About your knowing,” he said. “I should have told you yesterday probably, as soon as I realized you were so unhappy. The normal procedure is to have you remember your previous pattern, but there are ways... What I'm saying is, you can forget. You can be made to forget, I guess. The chance of getting you a permission to forget is infinitely greater than of restoring the old pattern. I can apply for it if you want. Just say the word. I think it's a good idea.”

But Pam just shook her head with a defeated smile.

Forgetting about Jim was the last thing she wanted. Already he didn't know her. If she forgot now... Well, that would simply be the end.

Pam didn't go to New York immediately.

She needed to see Jim, to make sure that he really existed, that he was still the same Jim who used to be her best friend. And who used to love her.

But was she just supposed to walk into the corporate and demand seeing him? No, a better plan had to be devised and it was slowly forming inside Pam's head. The details were still a little hazy, though.

Other than that, Pam's main concern right now was that his Dunder Mifflin profile didn't feature Jim's photo, and as naturally she didn't have any other photo of him, she was basically Jimless at the moment. Of course, she remembered what he looked like, but it would be nice to have something to look at...

Fortunately, Pam knew that all hope was not lost for a picture of Jim.

And so, she spent her lunch break most productively, sitting in the breakroom, hunched over her sketchbook and recreating the memory of Jim's face with her pencil. She had to admit, it turned out pretty well. The eyes, the messy hair, the nose that was just that little bit too big, it was all pretty spot on.

She sighed contentedly. She never liked doing portraits, or maybe she just wasn't brave enough to draw them. She didn't think she was talented enough for that.

This was good, though. It was perhaps one of the best pictures she'd ever done. With a little proud smile she put her signature in one corner and a date in another. She didn't even hear when someone entered the breakroom.

“Who's that” she was startled by Kelly's curious voice.

“Oh, no one,” Pam tried to cover her sketchbook, but to no avail. Kelly already got hold of one side of it and was now inspecting the picture appreciatively.

“Cute. Very cute,” she giggled. “What's his name?”

“Uh, I don't know, it's just...” Pam was at a loss.

“Can you set me up with him?” Kelly inquired.

“Kelly, I'm sorry, but I really can't do anything. I don't know that guy,” Pam replied, feeling suddenly very downcast again. Oh, she did know him. He just didn't know her.

“Then who is he?” Kelly pressed on.

“Oh, just... Just someone I saw on the bus once,” Pam lied.

“Wow, you remembered him well” Kelly was still admiring the portarit.

“I have photographic memory,” Pam mumbled quietly, then tried to create a divertion, even if it meant sacrificing a certain colleague. “But anyway, I thought you wanted me to play matchmaker for you and Ryan.”

“It doesn't hurt to have options, Pam,” Kelly shrugged. “Besides,” she sighed heavily, “I don't really know anymore. Ryan has been working here for such a long time already. If anything was supposed to happen, it already would have,” she reasoned.

“Oh, I don't know, Kelly...” Pam sighed, as she thought of Jim sitting in front of her for three years and never saying a word about what he felt.

“It's been over a year, Pam, he started here on the exact day that the camera crew started filming here, remember?”

“Sure,” Pam smiled. At least that was something she was familiar with.

“Those were some six weeks! Michael was totally out of control. I mean, he's always bad, but when they were here, wow,” Kelly shook her head in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Pam nodded. “But, um, I thought they were here for longer than six weeks,” she remarked, as diplomatically as she could. She wasn't running around anymore, searching for nonexistant teapots. She has learned to explore her new reality in a different way.

“Oh no, it was exactly six weeks, I remember, because they made it into exactly six episodes. Not that they aired them, apart from the pilot, but still, I know it was six.” Kelly's voice was wistful and Pam wondered if she was still bemoaning a lost chance for a reality TV career.

“Sometimes I can't believe they didn't come back,” Pam said carefully, but Kelly instantly took the bait.

“I know! And they said we lacked plot potential, whatever that means! It sounds kind of insulting, you know?”

“Yeah,” Pam nodded yet again.

That was an important change. And although Pam was a modest person who never gave herself any credit, she knew she was somehow involved in that change.

During the past three days Pam had been through so much, had analyzed her life and her relationship with Jim to the smallest detail, that now she could be no longer blind to the obvious. She knew why the camera crew left, why they didn't see the point in making the documentary longer and why they thought there was no 'plot potential'. Jim was not here. That was enough to change the plans of the crew. Well, Jim was not here with her, to be precise.

It was strangely clear now and she wondered, half ashamed with herself, how evident it was to the documentary creators that he was in love with her. Did they ask him questions to pry this information out of him? Did they film every time he went over to the reception area or smiled at her warmly? Did they see his humiliation at the dojo? And, oh, they must have loved it when Roy acted so aggressively after Meredith's birthday!

She snapped out of her reverie when Kelly started explaining that she had to go back to her desk. Pam quickly collected herself. She needed Kelly for her plan to get acquainted with Jim. She grabbed Kelly's hand before she could leave the breakroom.

“Kelly,” Pam whispered conspirationally. “I need to tell you something very personal and very important.”

“What? What happened?” Kelly whispered back.

Pam said nothing in reply, she just held up her left hand, now ringless after she had given the symbol of their engagement back to Roy. He didn't want to take it, but she left on the kitchen table anyway.

Kelly didn't disappoint. It only took her three seconds to process the visual information she received.

“Oh my God! Pam! You poor, poor thing!” she exclaimed. “What happened? Roy left?” she inquired with genuine care in her voice.

“Oh, no,” Pam shook her head. Her plan wasn't exactly fair to Roy, but the last thing she wanted was to make people think he was responsible for their break-up. “It was me, Kelly. I broke up with Roy.”

“But why, you were so cute together!”

“I don't know,” Pam smiled sadly. “It's complicated. I'm very confused right now, you know?”

“I bet you are!” Kelly nodded eagerly.

“I'm just in a very bad place right now. And it's really hard for me. Really hard,” Pam stressed, happy to know Michael wasn't around to hear this 'that's what she said' inducing phrase. “Really hard, Kelly.”

---

It was four o'clock.

The day at the office was slowly coming to an end and Pam's fingers were starting to feel itchy.

Very itchy.

She knew her condition could be healed in only one way – by picking up the phone.

She had a little post-it stuck to her computer screen, with a row of digits and two letters written on them. JH. It was Jim's phone number in the New York office. She copied it from the company's site the day before and now she felt that it was mocking her and her fear. She was such a wimp.

No, not a wimp, she tried to tell herself. It wasn't really about courage or lack of it... Calling Jim right now just didn't fit with her plan. And he wouldn't know her anyway, so what was the point?

But then again... Oh God. She just had to hear his voice. To actually exchange two or three sentences with him! And what if it wasn't the Jim Halpert she was looking for? A lot of links came up in the google search, so there was obviously more than just one of them. Well, now it was obvious. She had to check. Better safe than sorry.

Pam reached for the phone tentatively. She looked around. Everyone seemed busy with their work. (Only Phyllis glanced up at her from time to time and Pam was sure Kelly must have already talked to her. Good, that was good.) She wished she could wait until everyone left to make the call, but unfortunately it would also mean that Jim probably left his office as well. It had to be done now.

Slowly, very slowly, Pam dialed the number, checking every digit twice before she pushed the right button.

The line was free and almost immediately the phone was picked up.

“Jim Halpert.”

Pam's throat went dry in a second. She closed her eyes.

It was Jim. There was no doubt about that.

“Hello?” Jim repeated, somewhere in New York, in a different office, at a different desk.

Leading a different life.

Not even aware of her existence,

She hung up.

---

It took Pam five minutes to calm down.

It was more difficult than she had expected. She thought that now that she knew where to find Jim, that she actually had his phone number – that she was now out of the woods. The worst had been averted – Jim wasn't dead, Chinese, or running from the FBI. But now she realized the most difficult part of her task was yet to come. She had to face that man, for whom she was a complete stranger, with the knowledge that she loved him and that he once, in a different life, loved her too.

There was so much she knew about him and at the same time so much she had no idea about. Did he still like the same music? The same movies? Did he prank his co-workers at the corporate? Did he roll up his sleeves at work?

No, probably not. He was probably more professional now.

But she refused to believe he could be very different on the inside. In her mind's dictionary “Jim Halpert” stood for “sweet, smart, funny, caring”.

Even Creed and his freaky powers couldn't have changed that.

When she picked up the receiver for the second time, she dialed his number fast, half scared she might change her mind after the initial fiasco. Again, she heard his voice on the other end of the line.

“Jim Halpert.”

“Hi. Um... My... my name is Pam... Beesly,” she introduced herself shakily.

“How can I help you?” he asked and she felt her heart break just a little at the polite indifference in his voice. Oh, she hadn't expected a joyful “Beesly, it's you!”, but its lack still hurt.

“I'm from Dunder Mifflin, Scranton,” she said. “And... I was told to... call this number.”

“To call me?” Jim asked and Pam could imagine him scratching the back of his head in confusion. “I don't remember ever asking about the Scranton branch. But if you could wait a minute, I'll check if maybe there's a mistake and someone else wanted to talk to you.”

“Uh, you know what,” Pam started, already prepared for that offer – years of being Jim's prank mate didn't go to waste. “I think I just got the extension wrong. My boss's handwriting is a little hard to read sometimes. I dialed seven instead of two.”

“Well, I guess the mystery has been solved, then,” Jim chuckled and Pam felt a strange lump forming in her throat.

“Yes, I'm sure now when I look at the number. I'm sorry, I didn't have any names written, so...”

“No problem, really,” he said reassuringly. “So, if there's nothing I can do for you, I guess... have a good day?” he said.

“You too,” Pam answered quietly

She heard the click of him hanging up.

Jan was tapping her fingers on the table and Pam couldn't help thinking that right now Jan would give a lot to be able to sneak out for a smoke.

They were both sitting in the conference room. Through the glass door Pam could see that her coworkers seemed very interested in whatever was going on, if the extraordinary number of times Kevin, Meredith and Kelly passed by the door was anything to go by. Even Angela's eyes seemed to light up when Jan asked Pam to step into the conference room with her, even though she always said that curiosity in other people's personal matters was an unforgivable sin.

But to Pam, it was no surprise. For a week, she had been waiting anxiously for this moment to come. In a few minutes, she would know if her plan succeeded.

The plan itself was fairly simple. Kelly was the first one she told about her broken engagement and how difficult the situation was for her. As it turned out, she didn't have to tell anyone else, because the gossip soon spread like wildfire. People seemed shocked and – mostly – very supportive. They asked her if everything was alright and she always replied that no, it wasn't. Angela even came up to her desk to ask if Pam would like to accompany her to a mass next Sunday. Pam could find comfort in prayer, Angela said. It was weird. She didn't remember Angela being so nice the first time she broke up with Roy. But, Pam though slightly amused, this was perhaps because Angela hadn't been subjected to years of Jim flirting with Pam, or Pam Pong, as she used to call it. She really must have disapproved, Pam mused. She told Angela she wasn't feeling good enough to leave her house to any other place than work, but added that she did find comfort in praying anyway. Which was true, only Pam prayed for very different things than Angela imagined.

And then Toby came up to her and asked if she was feeling okay. Apparently Kelly had told him how hard Pam was taking her situation, some other people confirmed this and he felt obliged to check up on her. It was his job, after all. Under any other circumstances Pam would have answered that she was okay, that it was just a personal problem, nothing to worry about for HR and that it wouldn't affect her work. But not this time. This time Pam looked Toby in the eye and told him that she had been feeling very depressed lately, that she couldn't concentrate and that she thought she needed time out. No, not out of work, Pam shook her at Toby's suggestion. She needed to work, working was great to relieve her current stress. It's just that she didn't think she could work right here at this moment. Not only in Dunder Mifflin. In Scranton, in general. She needed a change of scenery for... say, three months. Yes, three months could do it. In that time, she could work out her problems. She just needed to be somewhere else, somewhere... different.

To be honest, Pam said, you couldn't get much more different from Scranton than New York.

She took a big risk and she knew it very well, but it seemed like the best option. Her first thought was the graphic design internship Jan had told her about, but she soon abandoned this idea. First, she would have to wait two months for it to start. And two, Jan said it was held mostly on weekends, and what chance did she have of Jim turning up at work on Saturdays and Sundays? Not a very big one, if he was anything like the Jim she knew. And she certainly didn't like the idea of running around New York and looking for him.

Pam didn't know why Toby didn't refuse her right away, in his Toby-esque, polite, diplomatic way. She knew her wish to be temporarily transferred to New York was rather silly and naïve. But Toby just said he would talk to Jan about it. Maybe he didn't want to take a risk after they found out last year about that Tom guy who committed suicide. Either way, here she was at the conference table, with Jan, dangerously close to finding out if her wish was to be granted.

“Pam, I hope you realize that you're asking us for a lot,” Jan started.

“I do,” Pam nodded.

“It's not something that we would normally do,” Jan added. “It's not even something we would normally be able to do, in simply practical terms.”

“I know,” Pam replied quietly.

“But Toby says you're taking your current personal situation very hard, after breaking up with your fiance,” Jan said slowly, giving Pam a thoughtful look.

“It's more complicated than that,” Pam said. “But it's true, I have been having problems lately.”

“We might have an offer for you, but...” Jan folded her arms and sighed. “What makes you think moving to New York will make it better? What if you move and it doesn't help? Isn't just going to therapy a better and more convenient option? Not that therapy helps much,” she added under her breath.

“I just want to be away from here, that's all,” Pam bit her lip. “I can go to therapy, but I want to do something else for myself, you know. I've lived here for my entire life and I think it's now catching up to me, everything reminds me of my problems. I need a change. New York seems perfect. I might take some art classes while I'm there. I'm sure there are many more possibilities there than in Scranton.”

“Well,” Jan gave her a tiny smile. “I could go on board with that.”

Pam simply smiled back.

“Okay, here's the deal, Pam. One of our receptionists at the corporate is pregnant. She will be taking a leave in a week. We were going to get a temp to fill her position, obviously, but if you really want to go, you can do just as well.”

“Oh...” Pam looked at Jan, surprised. “That sounds great.”

“The work itself shouldn't be much more difficult from what you're used to. The work environment might be a little different...” Jan trailed off and Pam just knew she was thinking of Michael. “Anyway, I'm sure you'll do fine. You'll be working for three departments, but it's not more than ten people.”

“What departments are they?” Pam asked, trying to sound as casually as she could.

“Human resources, public relations and advertising,” Jan listed, oblivious to the fact that she had now become Pam Beesly's favorite person. “HR is the biggest.”

“So... a week?” Pam asked.

“Yes. It will give you time to find an apartment and it will give us an opportunity to find someone to cover your spot in Scranton for the time being.”

“Jan, you have no idea how grateful I am. You're saving my life,” Pam said earnestly.

Jan looked down and stared at her hands for a long while.

“I know it can be hard to end a relationship,” she said quickly. “I'm going to go talk with Toby.” She stood up abruptly and left the conference room, leaving Pam alone.

---

“This is my cell phone number,” Pam handed Creed a white square of paper. “I will call you every few days just in case, but please call me when you finally get a date for the hearing or if you just find out anything.”

It was her last day in Dunder Mifflin, Scranton and she was saying goodbye to everyone.

A few weeks ago she would never have imagined it was Creed of all people to whom saying goodbye would be most important.

“Hey,” Creed looked at the piece of paper. “I didn't know your name was Pam. I thought it was Sam.”

“Yes, I know you did,” Pam smiled.

“Sorry,” he said. “But you know I have more important things to worry about than people's names.”

“Oh, yes,” Pam sighed. “I know that.”

“Well, anyway, I don't think you should expect a call in the next two or three weeks. But – I hope it won't take longer than a month. I know it sounds like a very long time, but you'll be busy in New York, won't you? Trying to win the heart of your beloved,” he smirked, even though it seemed rather rude to Pam. It was partly (mostly, Pam wanted to say) his fault, after all.

“I guess,” she shrugged. “But it would be infinitely easier, if I could just go back to the old pattern.”

“It didn't seem so easy when you were in it,” Creed remarked.

“Well, I was wrong. People make mistakes,” Pam said defensively.

“Oh yeah, you don't even know how many. And then I have to fix them,” he sighed and Pam found it very hard not to stick her tongue at him.

---

Two hours later Pam left the office, feeling a little sad, but the sadness was definitely overshadowed by anxiety. Her father was driving her to New York today, in just a couple of hours. She was going to spend the first night in her tiny teeny apartment. And tomorrow, she was going to meet Jim. Or, to be more exact, Jim was going to meet her. For the first time in his life. That was scary, to say the least.

But there was still something she had to do here, in Scranton. When she left the building, she walked towards the spot where Roy usually parked. His car was still there – he hadn't left yet. She leaned against the car. She was tired.

Five minutes passed before Pam saw Roy approaching. When he noticed her, he slowed down, but kept on walking.

"Hey,” she started, but he didn't answer. “I'm leaving for New York today, so I wanted to say goodbye,” she explained.

“So I heard,” he shrugged. “Everyone's saying you're leaving because of me. Michael said I broke your heart or something.”

“I'm sorry,” Pam looked at him pleadingly. “I swear I said it was me who broke it off. I never said a word to blame you or anything. I'm really sorry if they're turning this against you.”

Again, she was met with silence.

“I did tell them I was taking it unusually hard,” she continued. “But I never said you did anything wrong. Again, I'm sorry, it was perhaps unfair to you to use our break up like that.”

“Are you, Pam? Are you taking it unusually hard? Because you don't seem to! And why would you, really. You're the one who called of the wedding.”

“I had to say it, otherwise I couldn't have gone to New York,” she said quietly.

“That's it? You just wanted to go to New York? God, Pam. If that's what you wanted, to get out of Scranton... I could've just gone with you, you know,” Roy finished angrily.

“No, it's not that. It's not about you, or Scranton, or New York. I want to go there, because it will help me... unwind. But my problems... they're complicated, Roy, and it's not just our relationship that went wrong in my life. It's more than that. That's why I need time away from here.”

“I just don't get you, Pam,” Roy sighed.

“I'm sorry,” she repeated yet again.

“I thought you were happy.”

“I was! I was, for a long time. But... I'm not anymore and I couldn't be, in the long run. And you couldn't, too. I know that.”

“I could be happy, Pam,” he said stubbornly. “If you just came back. I'd forget about all this nonsense. I swear, I would never hold it against you.”

“Thanks,” Pam smiled slightly. “But I can't go back. It's all for the best, Roy. For both of us. I promise.”

Suddenly, there was nothing else to say. It would take longer than a week to heal Roy's wounds and right now there wasn't much more Pam could say or do to make him understand what she was going through. She couldn't tell him the truth, that was for sure. It wasn't his fault, but frankly, it wasn't Pam's fault either.

It was obviously Creed's fault, she thought.

Roy, too, must have felt that the conversation was over. He reached into his pocket to fish out his car keys. He looked at Pam before opening the door.

“So, I guess I'll see you when you come back,” Roy said.

“Yeah,” Pam said.

But even though she said it, and everyone else called her job in NY a temporary transfer, she knew she was never coming back to Dunder Mifflin, Scranton, not in this pattern anyway. If she managed to get Jim back, she would stay in New York, she would find a new job after her time at the corporate ran out, and if Jim couldn't be hers... Well, then there wasn't anything in Scranton to keep her here and too much to remind her of what she lost. She would just start anew, as hard as that would be.

Perhaps she would find out as soon as tomorrow which option it was more likely to be.

Tomorrow.