.....
Schruting It
.....

Work was the last thing on Pam Beesly's mind. There were invoices to be filled out, a few papers for Michael to sign, and even a little shredding to do. All of which was normally exciting enough, relatively speaking, to knock Pam out of her stupor. But Pam had no interest in doing anything besides sitting and thinking.

She stared vacantly at Jim from across the top of her receptionist's partition. He was talking to someone on the telephone. Jim had given her a friendly hello that morning, even traded a few paltry scraps of small talk with her when they ran across each other during a trip to the break room, but Pam had been waiting for something else to come up in conversation. Something that had been weighing heavily on her mind since yesterday. She kept waiting, but Jim hadn't brought up what she really wanted to talk about: the art show.

The subject pressed down on her like a dead weight, stifling what should have been an upbeat Friday. Maybe she was being unreasonable in expecting him to bring it up. Her picture of the office was hanging proudly in its frame across from her desk, but she didn't know if Jim – or anyone else in the office – had noticed it. She had asked Jim to come to the art show, she remembered that clearly, but maybe he didn't realize it was important to her. Even as Pam thought of that possibility, it seemed ridiculous. Jim knew how much she cared about art. He had encouraged her to go to art school, before – before she changed her mind. It should have been a given that she cared a lot about the art show.

He could have been busy. But if that was the case, wouldn't Jim have given her an apology or at even a passing explanation? Or, Pam wondered, maybe he had been more interested in spending time with his girlfriend. Pam was staring idly at Jim as she considered all the possible reasons for his not showing up, but when she caught Karen noticing her vacant look, she averted her eyes quickly. It was almost as if Karen had read her mind.

Pam hadn't really expected everyone in the office to show up to her show, but it still stung a little. Hearing the comments made between Oscar and his boyfriend had been painful, but more painful than all of that was Jim's conspicuous absence. Last night would have been one of the worst nights Pam could remember in a long time if it wasn't for Michael showing up at the last moment and perking up her spirits. Her last thought made her repress a quiet snort of amusement. Michael Scott, saving her night – along with her fragile psyche - from utter collapse.

Not what she had been expecting.

“Hey Pam.”

Pam's blank look at the top of her desk was broken by the sound of Jim's voice. She looked up. Jim leaned casually against the receptionist's desk as he looked down at her, then over to Michael's office. The door was closed and the blinds were drawn.

“Do you know what Michael's up to?”

“Not really. He's been in there for a while. He told me to hold his calls.”

Pam was often told to hold Michael's calls, and she knew that it could mean almost anything. Michael could be avoiding someone like Jan or David, he could be surfing the internet, reading a particularly entertaining magazine article, or just taking a mid-work nap. With the blinds closed, there was no way to tell.

“What have you been up to?” she asked Jim.

“Oh, the usual. Making some sales calls. Wondering if Dwight ever wears a color besides beige and puke yellow.”

“Now that you mention it, maybe he doesn't.”

Jim glanced at his watch and shot another look at Michael's door. “Alright,” he said, “if you'll excuse me, Dwight and I have to get Michael and attend to some pressing business.”

“Schneider meeting?”

“Yup.”

The two of of them jerked their heads in the direction of Dwight's desk as a loud beeping sound went off, echoing through the office. Dwight clicked something on his computer and got up, marching purposefully over to Michael's office and rapping on the door. “Michael!” he yelled. There was no answer.

“I think that's my cue,” said Jim.

“Michael, it's time for us to go to the client meeting!”

Dwight rapped on the door and called out Michael's name again, but still got no response. Karen got up from her desk and walked over to embrace her boyfriend before he left for the client meeting, giving him a kiss. If Pam wasn't mistaken, she thought she caught Karen casting her a bit of a catty glance while she did it. Pam had been noticing some hints of jealousy on Karen's part recently, as if Karen needed to make it very clear in front of Pam that she and Jim were in a relationship. Pam found it unnecessary, and a bit ridiculous; Jim had made it very clear that he didn't like her, and she was trying to patch things up with Roy anyway.

Dwight's continued rapping went unanswered. It was obvious that Michael was either asleep or avoiding Dwight, so Pam picked up the phone and called his office number. The phone rang several times before Michael picked up on the other end.

“Hello?” came a sputtering voice.

“Michael, you have a client meeting.”

“What? Pam, why didn't you tell me? I've been in here na – working, working on some papers here with no idea I had a meeting!”

Pam heard a very deliberate crinkling sound on the other end of the line, probably Michael's attempt to convince her that he did in fact have a number of important business papers in his hands. “I did tell you,” she said patiently. “Several times. Once yesterday, once this morning-”

“Okay, okay. You don't have to get testy, Pam.”

Pam hung up the phone. Scheduling client meetings for Michael on Fridays was always a bad idea, but Schneider had been the one to call her and set it up. Jim and Dwight waited in front of Michael's office – Jim patiently, Dwight standing on his tip toes and trying to see through the closed blinds. Despite being awake, for some reason it took Michael several moments to actually open his office door, at which point he gave a frightened start to find Dwight standing directly in front of him. Michael waved him away as he entered the main room of the office.

“People, people,” he said, gathering everyone's attention, “Jim and Dwight and I are off to make sure a major customer renews its contract to buy Dunder Mifflin paper. We might be gone an hour or two, maybe a couple days – no way to know!”

Jim raised an eyebrow at Pam, who gave him a grin, before turning to Michael.

“A couple of days, Michael?”

“Dedication Jim. It takes as long as it takes.”

“Yes Jim,” said Dwight. “Dedication.”

“As I was saying, we will be gone from the office for a while. Until we get back, Stanley the Manley – you're in charge, my man. Think you can handle it?”

Stanley ignored Michael, who waited for several moments before realizing no answer was forthcoming.

“Why can't I be the boss?” asked Dwight.

“You're going with us, idiot.”

“Well, I can tell people what to do over the phone.”

“I could do that myself, Dwight! That's the whole point of appointing a new – because-”

Michael trailed off as he rubbed his temples in exasperation. The rest the office stared at him blankly until he motioned for Dwight and Jim to follow him out. Pam watched them go, hoping that Jim might wave goodbye, but he did not. She noticed Karen watching him go as well before giving her a brief look and returning to her desk. Pam sighed. She hadn't gotten the chance to bring up the art show and ask why Jim didn't show up. Then again, maybe it was better not to bring it up, at the risk of sounding whiny.

Jim's return to Scranton had been a happy day for Pam, as she had missed his friendship. She enjoying having him around the office, and yet she couldn't help but notice how different things were now. The camaraderie they shared together before Jim left for Stamford, that bond that she could always rely on to get her through even the worst work days, seemed to have shriveled away. In its place was a different kind of friendship. A little colder, a little less exciting. They didn't even pull pranks on Dwight the way they used to. Their shared prank against Andy had been promising, almost as it they were beginning to return to their old ways, but then – much like Karen's friendliness towards her – Jim had seemed to pull away a little.

The new friendship was still valuable to Pam, better than Jim's absence, but in a way, a part of him was still absent. Maybe he was holding himself back, afraid of being open with her again. Pam couldn't blame him. Things between them had gotten complicated, no matter how much she wished they could be simple.

.....

Michael's Sebring convertible made its way through the streets of Scranton, top rolled down and cold February air pouring over the heads of its occupants. Jim gathered his coat closer around himself as he thought about his sales strategy. Mostly he was just trying to amuse himself and ignore the freezing weather; there really wasn't much sales strategy when it came to selling paper, unless you asked Dwight. Jim had the impression that it ultimately came down to whether or not you could be friendly enough to cajole the customer into buying paper so expensive that it negated any minor gains in terms of customer service.

“Aren't you glad we took the Sebring?” asked Michael.

Jim glanced back to Dwight, at whom Michael was directing the question, and Dwight gave him a brief eye roll in response. Jim couldn't help but share the sentiment. There had been a considerable argument over whether to take Dwight's Trans Am or Michael's Sebring when the three of them stepped into the office parking lot, and - thanks to having the power of authority over Dwight, which worked even when Michael wasn't actively pulling his boss card – the Sebring won. Jim idly wondered whether Michael actually had a boss card for a moment. He wouldn't be surprised. Michael had insisted on putting the top down, despite the cold weather, and was now pretending to enjoy it to save face, even though it was clear that he was freezing just as much as his passengers were.

“My two wingmen,” said Michael, half to himself and half to his two passengers. “Starsky and Hutch. Goose and Mongoose. Schneider has no chance against our complete sales penetration.”

“Triple penetration!” spoke up Dwight from the back seat.

Jim groaned at their unfortunate choice of phrasing.

“Could we turn on the radio, please?”

“Excellent idea, Jim.”

Michael tried to fiddle with the radio dials, ignoring the road until Jim slapped his hand away and tuned to a station himself. Sweet Scranton tunes played over the airwaves as he waited patiently for them to arrive at the restaurant where they were meeting John Schneider.

Schneider, one of Dunder Mifflin's biggest clients, was the CEO of a local eponymous grocery store chain. Michael had secured him as a client a number of years ago, during his free-wheeling years as a salesman, and the company made sure to periodically renew Schneider's contract, as he was an older man who valued personal business relationships. Jim wasn't sure if he and Dwight really needed to go with Michael since it was just a renewal, but it wasn't unprecedented for the three of them to handle sales calls together. And he knew Michael probably just wanted the company, if only to show off what Jim knew were some surprisingly sharp sales skills.

The sound of ringing reached Jim over the wind's shrill hum and the radio's blare; he had almost missed it, but it sounded like it was coming from his left.

“Michael,” he said, “I think you're phone's ringing.”

Michael turned off the radio and fished his cell phone out of his pants pocket.

“Hello? Oh, hi Jan.”

Dwight leaned forward a little in an attempt to hear Michael's phone conversation, shooting Jim a dirty look when he caught Jim's amused expression. Jim always enjoyed it when Dwight invaded Michael's personal space – he seemed to be intrigued by anything his boss was doing which did not directly concern him. As if he was being kept from a secret. Michael let out a giggle at whatever Jan was saying on the other end.

“That does sound pretty awesome, but – hey, get away!”

Michael twitched his neck at the feel of Dwight's hot breath coming from behind his seat.

“No, not you Jan. It's just that I have this sales call I'm going – what? You're already there?”

Jim frowned. He understood Dwight's interest in Michael's relationship with Jan, although his own interest was more like the kind of morbid fascination you got when you saw an ambulance driving by and wondered what kind of horrible accident had occurred. Or maybe that was just him. Either way, judging by Michael's giggling, Jan wasn't calling him on business. Not that kind of business, anyway.

“I just think I should –“

Michael was cut off again. Jim caught a wheedling tone in Jan's voice coming from the phone, although he could not hear what she said. Michael tried to protest further, but the tone shifted from wheedling to anger as Michael shot him a nervous look. Whatever Jan wanted, she seemed insistent.

“Okay, okay,” he said, “but it has to be quick. I'll be there in a minute.”

Almost before he had returned his cell phone to his pocket, Michael swerved the car down a side road, clearly not going in the direction of the meeting place anymore. “Uh, Michael,” said Jim, “where are we going?”

“I have to make a quick stop at my condo.”

“Do I want to know why?”

“That's inappropriate, Jim.”

“Okay then.”

Jim had never been to Michael's condo before, but as Michael drove on with a strange mixture of anticipation and concern on his face, it became apparent that it was nowhere near the restaurant where they were supposed to meet John Schneider. The Sebring pulled into a residential area, and Michael slowed as they passed rows of houses. At one point he slowed down almost to a complete stop, and several moments passed before he pulled into a driveway. Jim got the feeling he wasn't sure which condo was his. He couldn't blame Michael; most of them did look almost identical. As his boss opened the car door, Jim couldn't help but speak up.

“Michael, do we have time for this?”

“Lots of time, Jim. I always leave some buffer time before my meetings, and this won't take long. Just chill out, bro! I'll be right back!”

Jim sighed and sat back in his seat. Now that Michael was gone, at least, he could put the convertible's top up and get some heating going inside. He knew Dwight would appreciate it too, even if Dwight would die before he actually said anything about it or threw his sense of masculinity into question by doing it himself. As Jim glanced through the windshield while the black top was going up, he noticed Michael opening the door to his condo. While he didn't get a good look, Jim thought he caught a glimpse of someone else who was already inside.

Jan Levinson.

Jim's brow furrowed as the condo's door closed. While he got the feeling that Michael was setting himself up for being late, he couldn't bring himself to care about it very much. It was Michael's head on the line, not his. And it wasn't like Jan could blame Jim, or even Michael, if they did end up being late to the meeting.

.....

Jan had been waiting in Michael's condo for a few minutes before calling him; she didn't have a key yet, but she planned to get Michael to make her a copy before long, and fortunately his door had been unlocked. She wondered if he ever actually remembered to lock his door. Although it should have been a work day for her, Jan had called in that morning pretending to be sick, spent the next few hours lounging around at home, drinking a glass or two of wine, and then decided to visit Michael in Scranton. She had been working hard lately. She deserved a day of self-indulgence.

Unfortunately, halfway to Scranton, Jan realized that if she wanted to visit Michael at work she would have to show up in front of all his employees. She could pass it off as a business visit, but it might seem suspicious. And they'd have to have sex in his office. The idea was arousing. Degrading, in a way. And yet it seemed risky when Jan was still wrestling over whether or not to make their relationship public. It was corporate policy, but a part of her liked the rebellious thrill she got from keeping it secret. From doing it right under everybody's nose. And a part of her was afraid of what might happen it the relationship became legitimate. How it might affect way others saw her. What it would do to her.

“Michael!” she exclaimed as the condo door opened.

“Hey Jan, how's it going? How'd you get in here? Did you – did you steal my key?”

“You just used your key, Michael. The door was unlocked.”

Jan was about to embrace Michael, but she caught a glimpse of his convertible right before he closed the door. The top was going up, but she could have sworn she saw Jim Halpert in the passenger's seat.

“Michael,” she asked as the door closed, “were you on a sales call?”

“Well yes, I told you that on the phone, I-”

“Is anybody with you?”

“Jim and Dwight are waiting. But we have time before the meeting.”

“What?”

Michael took a step back at Jan's sharp rise in tone. She should have paid more attention to him on the phone, but she had been insistent on his stopping by the condo, and she knew it was around his lunch break anyway. Something about Michael just set her off. Some kind of magnetism he had. She wondered if Jim had seen her through the doorway, although she would only have been visible for a brief moment. The thought of Jim and Dwight waiting outside was-

Well, thought Jan, what is it?

The more she thought about it, the more she liked it. She was in charge, she called the shots. She would get the day off whenever she wanted, Michael had to please her before he went on a sales call, and his employees would have to wait outside while the two of them engaged in a lunch break of debauchery. It was wild, irresponsible. Scandalous. Jan felt an irrepressible excitement rise from inside her as she grabbed Michael and pulled him into a deep kiss.

“Dmf fyou havf wrmf?”

Jan released Michael from her grip.

“What?”

“Don't you have work today?”

“I took off. Now let's go upstairs and have some fun before you go on your sales call.”

Jan wondered if she should have brought her video camera with her. They'd have to try that some other time; she might need to ease Michael into the idea anyway. She took her boyfriend by the arm and led up him up the stairway, flashing a predatory smile he laughed nervously.

.....

One of Jim's favorite rock songs played on the car radio. He hummed along to the tune, tapping his fingers on his leg as he sat in the front passenger side seat. A look in the rear view mirror told him that Dwight did not enjoy the song nearly as much – or, more likely, he was feeling nervous about how much time Michael was taking to get back to the car. They were still parked in the driveway outside his condo, but Jim couldn't bring himself to feel very worried about the whole situation. Michael was going to get himself in trouble if he wasn't careful.

At least fifteen minutes had passed since Michael went into his condo. Jim had a good guess as to what was going on inside, and he was fairly certain he had seen Jan through the doorway. The idea of his boss and his boss's boss doing the hanky panky while he waited in the car was a little gross when he thought about it, but he knew it would make a good story later. He'd have to tell Pam when they got back to the office. He would have considered telling Karen, but for some reason Jim felt like Pam would appreciate Michael's antics more, whereas Karen might gravitate towards the fact that Jim wasn't taking the sales call very seriously. But it wasn't like it was really his sales call in the first place.

The clock on the car radio ticked up by another minute, and Jim began to wonder if he should do something. They were going to be late if they sat around for this long, after all, and as much as Michael could annoy him sometimes, Jim knew he'd probably feel guilty if Michael got in too much trouble. He hadn't met John Schneider personally, but from what Michael had said, Schneider's Groceries was a fairly important customer for the company. He sighed as he glanced at Dwight in the back seat, who was sitting stiff and still as he waited for Michael to return.

“'Sup Dwight?”

“You know what's up, Jim. We're waiting for Michael to finish his business at his condo.”

“Doesn't it bother you that we're wasting time?”

“For your information, Jim, I assume that Michael's business must be very important. Otherwise he wouldn't be putting off the sales call. We have to trust in Michael's judgment.”

Jim snorted. He looked at the car radio again; he could almost see the seconds ticking away as another minute changed over. Michael's detour was definitely getting a little excessive.

“When is this meeting, anyway?”

“Fifteen minutes ago.”

The song on the car radio came to a stop, plunging the car into silence for several moments as Jim stared at Dwight. Dwight stared back, his expression stoic and humorless.

“Are you telling me that this meeting was supposed to start already?”

Dwight did not move or say anything. Although Jim could not read Dwight's mind, he had worked with him long enough to tell when Dwight was wrestling with a mental conundrum, and it looked like his head was the center of a war zone. Jim wondered if Dwight's need to please Michael was finally being overwhelmed by the obvious fact that Michael was being an idiot and missing an important meeting with a valued customer.

“Alright,” said Jim, “I'm just going to go ring Michael's doorbell and see if he's ready to go, and you try calling up Mr. Schneider and telling him we'll be a little bit late.”

“I don't have his number, Jim. Michael's the one who set up this meeting.”

“Call Pam then, she probably has it.”

Jim got out of the car and walked up to the condo's doorway as Dwight stayed inside, fumbling with his phone. He rang the doorbell, adding a couple knocks for good measure, and waited as he huddled beneath his coat. The breeze had picked up a little, and it was a harsh contrast with the comfortable heated air inside the Sebring. Jim wondered if – just thinking about it forced him to repress a gag – maybe Michael and Jan were being too loud to answer the door. He was about to ring the doorbell again when Michael finally opened it, looking a little disheveled.

“What is it, Jim?”

“We need to go, Michael.”

“I told you we had some time before we're-”

“We're fifteen minutes late.”

Michael stood tight-lipped, his skin tone going several shades whiter in the course of a few seconds. He looked back at the stairway for a moment before grabbing his coat from the rack by the entryway and stepping out onto the patio. “Alright Jim, we're leaving now!” he said in a particularly loud voice. Jim smiled as he closed the door and locked it.

“Finished with your condo business?”

“Yes, I am.”

“What was it?”

“I had to check if the oven was on.”

“It took you fifteen minutes to do that?”

Michael paused for a moment.

“Yes – no, I did other things after that.”

“So what was that call with Jan about earlier?”

“Call – just a call. Unrelated call, Jim. Work, she – Mifflin forms! She needed me to fill out the Mifflin forms.”

“Mifflin forms? Don't think I've seen one of those before.”

“They're very special, only for managers. Now come on!”

Jim followed Michael back to the Sebring and got into the passenger side again. As they pulled out of the driveway, he looked back at Dwight to see if he had let Schneider know they would be late, but the expression on Dwight's face did not look good.

“What's the problem, Dwight?”

“I called Pam and she didn't know Schneider's number, but she gave me the number of the company, and then I called the company and they didn't have a number for him either.”

“He's probably at the restaurant already,” said Michael. “Schneider's an old guy, he doesn't have a cell phone. Probably doesn't even know what a cell phone is, he's like a fossil. We'll just have to get there first.”

The three of them made their way back on the route they had taken to get to Michael's condo, returning to the restaurant. Jim had almost expected Michael to deliberately put down the convertible's top again, but Michael ignored it; either he was enjoying the heating too much to prove a point with Dwight about owning a convertible in Pennsylvania, or he was just too distracted by his late meeting to notice it was up again. Either way worked for Jim. Dwight tried to fiddle with the radio controls as they drove, but Michael slapped his hand aside.

“We should have taken my car,” said Dwight. “I can't get my killer instinct going if I have no metal CD's I can listen to before we to go to the lunch.”

Jim smirked. “Killer instinct, Dwight? Are you planning to murder our customer?”

“It's a metaphor, Jim. Murdering a customer isn't going to sell paper. Unless he needs it for printing his funeral invitations.”

“How can he print funeral invitations if-”

“Stop arguing!” snapped Michael. “Both of you, get into sales mode!”

The car pulled into the restaurant's parking lot. Jim had to wait a moment while Michael smoothed out his suit and calmed himself down, checking the side-view mirror to correct his mussed up hair. Mussed up from checking the oven and getting an assortment of other things done at the condo, of course. Dwight did a few lunges, apparently to make up for his lack of classic rock, and finally the two of them nodded to Jim, who followed them into the restaurant. Michael stopped and looked around for several moments. A seater standing behind a podium a few feet away smiled politely at them.

“How many?” asked the seater, stepping out from behind the podium

“There should be someone here, waiting for two more,” said Michael. “Old guy by the name of Schneider?”

“Um, I'm not sure. There was an old man here earlier, but he left.”

Michael breathed a silent curse and brushed the seater aside as he strode through the restaurant, making sure to check all the booths, as well as a side room with more seating. Jim didn't know what John Schneider looked like, but as he watched Michael looking around, he knew the search was fruitless. They had arrived too late, and apparently Michael's customer was not a man who was willing to sit around for very long.

“So, what,” asked Jim, “we just reschedule the meeting?”

Michael nodded vaguely.

“Maybe.”

It was not a very optimistic 'maybe'. As Michael paced in the middle of the restaurant at a loss for what to do with Dwight standing officiously by his side, Jim wondered if his boss had gotten himself into more than just a little trouble.

Either way, it was not long past lunch. Since they were there, Jim was going to make the best of it. He clapped Dwight on the back, who shrugged it off angrily, and pointed to a nearby booth.

“Let's eat!”

.....

.....
The Blame Game
.....
After such a relaxing weekend, Jan arrived at the corporate offices feeling well-rested and free of stress. Strange as it seemed, she was almost looking forward to her day at work. Waking up late and getting to work at eleven in the morning did a lot for her rested feeling, and David Wallace was gone today so she wouldn't get any flak for being late. She knew Wallace was out paying a visit to a few store branches, so she might have a little bit of peace and quiet that morning in her office. Even the H.R. Representative David hated so much was busy handling some problems that had cropped up at another branch – not Scranton, amazingly enough.

Going up the elevator to Dunder Mifflin's corporate offices, Jan smiled as she thought about her visit to Michael last night. He could be insufferable sometimes, but he did seem to hold some kind of strange magnetism over her. She never would have guessed it from his awkward, bumbling behavior most of the time, but he wasn't half bad in bed either. He could even get his legs behind his head. Jan wondered if he did a lot of stretching in his spare time.

As the elevator hummed, Jan reached up and gave an unconscious caress to her earring, one of a pair she had bought from Ann Taylor the other day – the new location that Dwight had told her about, of all people. Her business suit was a new one as well. The elevator door opened, and she almost felt like striding out into the lobby as if she was on a catwalk. She smiled in anticipation of saying hello to her new administrative assistant.

Let's see what you think of this, Hunter!

The lobby receptionist, Grace, nodded to her as she passed through the glass doors into the hallway that led to her office. Reaching her own door, she was about to enter when she noticed Hunter already inside, laying something on her desk.

“Oh, hey Mrs. Levinson,” he said, picking up the paper again.

“Hello Hunter. It's Miss Levinson, actually, and you can call me Jan. What was that?”

“I was going to leave you a note, but since you're here, David Wallace just went out to visit some of the branches.”

“I'm aware.”

“He said he was going to stop by Scranton and see how the merger's been going, but he also said he got a call from an angry client about Michael Scott missing a lunch meeting. He said he'd have a talk with Michael about it and take care of it for you, since he's going over there anyway.”

Jan mulled over Hunter's message, beginning to sense a hole being poked in her good mood.

“Did he say what client, and when Michael was supposed to meet him for lunch?”

“John Schneider. The guy who owns Schneider's groceries. Michael didn't show up at the restaurant where they were going to meet yesterday, and apparently John took offense to it.”

“Alright. Thank you Hunter. By the way, do you like my earrings?”

Hunter nodded briefly as he squeezed by Jan on his way out of her office. Giving him a glance on his way out, Jan remembered him mentioning he was in a band during their interview. She'd have to ask him if they had a CD. Maybe she could even go to a live show sometime.

Jan stared out her window for a moment, lost in thought as she looked over the New York skyline before finally turning around and slumping down in her chair. Michael had been saying something about a client meeting yesterday, but Jan had talked over him, insistent on getting what she wanted. She was being reckless. Too reckless. It was thrilling, but the more she thought about it, the more she began to wonder if she was about to be in trouble.

David, on his way to Scranton... Michael, telling him the real reason he was late to the client meeting...

This could definitely mean trouble.

Jan grabbed the phone on her desk and dialed the Scranton Branch's number wildly. Their receptionist picked up after a couple of rings. “Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam,” she said.

“Hello, Pam – could you transfer me to Michael?”

“Sure.”

Jan waited while Pam transferred the call. It always took a few moments for Pam to transfer her calls to Michael for some reason, but she didn't think much of it. She would have preferred to go to Scranton and talk to Michael in person – trying to hold his attention on the phone was a crap-shoot at best - but there was no time to visit now. The drive would take several hours, and Wallace could already be well on his way there. She just hoped she could do a little damage control over the phone before the CFO arrived and Michael said something that got both of them in trouble.

.....

Sometimes it was nice to have a loyal second-in-command like Dwight hanging around in his office, but it never took long before Michael found his presence annoying.

A colorful Slinky moved back and forth as Michael swatted it from side to side, listening to Dwight jabber about some science fiction show he was watching the other night. Michael wondered why Slinkies only worked on stairways. When he tried to use it on his desk, it only moved once - when he first tipped it - and then just stopped. If he was in charge of slinky making, he wouldn't have made it so limited. He'd invent a slinky that could work on any surface, no matter how flat or horizontal.

"And that was when Helo arrested Robert! I was torn about the whole episode, to be honest – on the one hand, I understood Robert wanting to dispose of the Sagittarions before their virus passed on to others in the ship, but on the other hand, I sympathized with the Sagittarion skepticism towards advanced medicine. As a farmer, I know as well as they did that most afflictions can be cured by simple folk remedies or reliance on willpower to-”

“For God's sake, Dwight!”

Dwight fell silent, shrinking a little under Michael's baleful eye, even though Michael was sitting at his desk and Dwight was standing at his side looking down.

“Look, I just invited you in here because I wanted to-”

Michael's sentence cut off abruptly. Dwight waited for him to continue.

“Yes Michael? You wanted to what?”

“Nothing. It's nothing, just forget about it.”

“Michael,” said Dwight as he leaned closer, “you can tell me anything.”

Michael shrank back a little as Dwight's hot breath moistened his neck. Although his nose wasn't directly in the path of Dwight's mouth, it wrinkled involuntarily as he picked up a whiff of Dwight's morning breath. He had invited Dwight into his office in the hopes that he might ask him about yesterday, which might give Michael an opening to talk about his romp in the sack with Jan at his condo. It wasn't that Michael wanted to brag or anything. He just wanted to let Dwight now how spontaneous and cool he was, and how hot his girlfriend was. Nothing braggy. Unfortunately, this intention had been cut off when Dwight came in babbling about Battlestar Galactica.

But now that Dwight was done babbling, Michael began to wonder if talking to Dwight about Jan was really a good idea after all. Dwight knew about the two of them, but Michael was still hesitant - Jan seemed to want to keep their relationship secret even though Michael got the impression he had been wearing her down on the subject. But maybe she would be mad if he talked about it with Dwight too much. Sometimes he got the feeling she was watching him, even when he was alone in his office...

Michael spasmed in surprise as the phone rang, his hand accidentally knocking the Slinky off his desk. A moment of annoyance was replaced by amusement as Michael watched the Slinky unfurl and cascade to the floor. He pressed the phone's speaker button as he leaned over to retrieve the toy.

“Hello?” he asked, as Dwight leaned close by to listen to the call.

Pam spoke up on the other end. “Michael,” she said, “I've got Jan on the line.”

“Okay, put her through.”

Michael got up from the ground, having retrieved his slinky. “Jan the Man! Er, Jan – Jan the Woman. What's up, lady?”

“It's still me, Michael,” said Pam.

Michael frowned. He really needed to teach her how to transfer people over the phone a little faster. Jan's voice came through after another moment.

“Michael?” she asked.

“Hey Jan.”

“Hello – look, Michael, David Wallace is coming over there and I don't know when he's going to get there, but he got a complaint from John Schneider about how you missed the meeting with him. I don't know how serious it is, but you have to make sure you don't give away anything about our relationship, okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“To David, Michael. You can't tell him what happened. If David knows we were having sex yesterday when you were supposed to be at the meeting, we could be in serious trouble. Do you understand, Michael?”

Michael felt a flash of fear at the news of David's impending arrival. He had been having trouble getting in contact with John Schneider to apologize; the last couple of calls he had made were answered by a woman who told him the grocery store C.E.O. was unavailable. He probably should have called Schneider over the weekend, but who made work calls on the weekend? Michael didn't know if Schneider was just busy or if he was holding some kind of grudge about him missing their lunch meeting. Schneider was an old man, kind of crotchety, and he had always insisted on the personal lunches to renew their contract.

“So you want me to lie to David?”

Jan grunted in exasperation. “I didn't say that. Just don't tell him the truth.”

“Um... 10-4 on that. But what am I supposed to say?”

“Make up an excuse, I don't know. Tell him whatever you need to tell him.”

Michael balked at the proposition. He didn't really want to lie to David Wallace, which seemed to be what Jan was suggesting. He knew Jan was right, however; Michael wanted to be open about their relationship together, but this was probably the worst possible way to make it public.

“Jan,” said Dwight as he leaned closer to the speaker, “are you sure that lying is the best policy?”

The phone fell silent. Several seconds passed.

“Dwight?”

“Yes Jan.”

“How long have you been in there with Michael?”

“About fifteen minutes. Why do you ask?”

A sigh came through the other end before Jan continued.

“Dwight – whatever Michael tells David, you need to back it up. Michael is your boss.”

The logic was hard to argue against, but Dwight felt his head beginning to hurt as he considered Jan's orders. Michael was his boss, yes, but David Wallace was Michael's boss – sort of. Maybe Jan was Michael's boss, and then David Wallace was Jan's boss, making David Wallace Michael's boss boss. And, by extension, Dwight's boss boss boss. Was he supposed to obey his immediate boss, or his boss thrice over? It was a real conundrum.

“Michael,” Jan said sharply, “what are you going to tell David?”

“I don't know. I had diarrhea?”

“You had dia – okay, let's just table that one for now. Why didn't you call Schneider to apologize, anyway?”

“I couldn't get hold of him.”

.A sigh came through the line.

“Wait,” said Jan after a moment of silence, “when you came over to my condo yesterday, I saw someone else in the car – was Jim with you while you were going to the client meeting?”

“Jim and Dwight both went with me. They waited in the car while we made love.”

A loud groan coming from the speaker made Michael wonder if he had something wrong. His mind raced, trying to remember if 'making love' was the politically correct way to put it.

“It's nothing to be ashamed of, Jan,” said Dwight. “Everyone needs a little release sometimes.”

“Shut up Dwight. Look, Michael, just tell David something and make sure that Jim and Dwight are on board, okay? Tell him you were held up at your condo. Just make sure David doesn't find out anything is going on between us.”

“If I told him that, wouldn't I still get in trouble since it was my fault for being late?”

“Um – yes. I guess so.”

Michael rubbed his furrowed brow, feeling himself sinking into an ever deeper hole as he wondered what Jan had gotten him into. What he had gotten himself into. Or maybe, to put the blame where blame was due, what little Michael had gotten him into. Jan was so hard to resist sometimes. As his mind churned frantically, treading mental water in an attempt to find a shore, Dwight left the desk and separated the blinds to look out at the office parking lot. Michael heard the sound of a car pulling into the lot.

“Michael,” said Dwight, “it looks like David Wallace has arrived.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

“He's there?” spoke Jan on the other end.

“Yes Jan,” said Dwight, returning to the phone. “David Wallace is here. I'm sure we'll figure something out, don't you worry.”

Dwight smoothed out his sepia-toned suit in preparation for the meeting with David Wallace as Michael stared at his office door in silence. From the sound of it, Jan had no immediate ideas either.

"By the way, Jan,” said Dwight, “are you feeling any better?”

“What?”

“You were sick on Friday, right? But I guess you felt well enough to engage in intercourse with Michael. Did you do anything else fun? Go out shopping? Ann Taylor, maybe?”

“How did you know I shopped at Ann Taylor on Friday?”

Michael gave him a look that seemed to echo Jan's confusion. Dwight shrugged.

“Just a guess.”

A click came through the speaker as Jan hung up the phone.

.....

Something about the tone of Jan's voice had given Pam the impression that Jan, or Michael, or both of them, were in some kind of trouble. Curiosity getting the better of her, Pam had ignored her work and watched Michael's office to see if he would leap up from his desk and race over to the window in order to put down the blinds. He didn't always do it, but if Pam noticed the blinds going down followed by sounds of frantic movement coming from within the office, it usually meant Michael was in some kind of trouble. She wondered if it had something to do with the client meeting catastrophe last Friday. Jim had been kind enough to tell her most of the story.

The blinds stayed up, but things definitely looked fishy in Michael's room. Pam watched as Michael and Dwight spoke to each other and to the phone in anxious tones, although their conversation was too muted to make out any details. She could hear Jan's voice, muted and washed out, but it did not sound happy. A few of her coworkers looked up from time to time but none of them seemed to have as much interest as she did in what was going on. It was becoming obvious that she wouldn't be able to overhear anything. Pam let out a little yawn and looked at her watch; it was about lunch time. She didn't want to deal with Michael's issues or be called into his office for some kind of embarrassing conversation, so she decided she'd take her lunch break now. She grabbed the bagged lunch beneath her desk and left her receptionist's nook.

“Hey Karen,” she said as she passed through the office.

Karen looked up from her desk, her expression a little confused at first, and gave Pam a brief smile.

“Hey.”

Pam entered the break area at the back of the office. She was surprised to see Jim, sitting alone at a table near the back and eating what looked like his usual ham and cheese sandwich. Creed was also sitting nearby, but she couldn't even begin to take a guess at what he was eating. It was some kind of stew-like substance in a tupperware container, and it smelled. Jim was reading a magazine and hadn't looked up yet; Pam stood still, wondering if it would be weird to sit next to him. She was on the verge of slipping back out of the break room when Jim looked up and gave her a wave.

“Over here, Beesly.”

Pam grinned and made her way to the back, giving Creed a wide berth at his own table before she sat down and began to eat her bagged lunch.

“Karen doesn't mind?”

“Karen?” asked Jim, his lips pursed. “Why would she mind?”

“Well, I don't know, I just thought if she wanted to eat lunch with you...”

Pam trailed off as she arranged her food on the table.

“I think she's busy with something, but don't worry. I'm sure she won't mind the company if she comes in to eat with us.”

Pam felt a brief flash of annoyance towards Karen for making things so confusing sometimes. She knew Karen wasn't really to blame, and they had even come close to being friends for a short time before things had cooled between them for some reason. But Pam couldn't help feeling frustrated sometimes. Before Karen had arrived, there was nothing strange about eating lunch with Jim. After Karen had arrived, she wondered if she was intruding. Karen had looked like she was still busy when Pam passed her a moment ago, but she and Jim did eat lunch together fairly often; more often than Roy ate lunch with her, anyway. Even now that she was trying to make things work with her ex-fiancé again.

“So Jan called for Michael a minute ago,” said Pam as she opened her mixed berry yogurt and took a bite.

“Oh yeah? What do you think that was about?”

“I'm thinking another booty call.”

Jim laughed. Pam had apparently spoken too loudly, as Creed joined in with a louder cackle, which both of them tried to ignore. Sometimes Creed would join in a bout of laughter without knowing what the topic was, though, so it was possible had hadn't overheard Pam at all. The pungent stench of Creed food wafted over to their table, which was less much easy to ignore.

“He could be in trouble,” continued Pam, “because he was acting all strange with Dwight in his office while I was watching them. And they were both talking with Jan. I wonder if he's in bigger trouble than you thought for missing that client meeting last week?”

“Could be. I don't know how Jan can get him in trouble if they were both responsible for him missing it, though.”

Pam had no answer.

She continued eating her yogurt as the two of them sat quietly together. It wasn't much of a lunch, but she didn't have time to grab anything else when she woke up that morning. Maybe she would try to bum Jim's apple off him, since that looked like a big ham and cheese sandwich he was eating anyway. It was unfair that he got so much food! She was about to try out her powers of persuasion when she heard a familiar voice coming from outside the break room. Pam craned her neck to get a look and saw David Wallace walking through the office, saying hello to several people.

“David Wallace is out there,” she said. “That's weird.”

Jim raised an eyebrow but didn't bother trying to get a better look. As Pam listened, she heard what sounded like Karen and David speaking about the merger and how Karen was holding up. Pam couldn't help but smile; if David had come to the Scranton branch to see how people were doing after the merger, Karen was about the only person he could ask, since everyone else from the Stamford branch was gone. Although Andy would be back eventually. Probably depending on whether or not he decided to punch any holes in things with his fist while he was at Anger Management training.

Pam continued listening in on the conversation between Karen and David, which was almost as heard to hear as the one that had gone on earlier in Michael's office. She began to wonder if she was doing a little too much eavesdropping that day, but her curiosity was definitely getting the better of her. It was not long before David's voice disappeared and Karen showed up in the break room. She stopped at the door, giving Pam and Jim a brief wary look before she approached them with her own lunch.

“Looks like everybody's bagging it today,” said Jim as his girlfriend sat down.

“Not me, Halpert,” said Karen.

She held up a TV dinner, which she put in the microwave before sitting back down at the table with Jim and Pam while she waited for it to finish. Pam noticed her grab Jim's apple, which he had not yet started to eat, and take a bite out of it before returning it to her boyfriend. So much for Pam using her powers of persuasion.

“So what's David Wallace here for?” she asked Karen.

“He's checking on a few of the branches and seeing how everyone's doing. And he was asking me a bit about the merger and how I like it here. He just went to talk to Michael, though.”

“You think Michael's in trouble?”

Karen shrugged. “Why do you think he's in trouble?”

“Well, he shacked up with Jan yesterday while Jim and Dwight were waiting, when they were all supposed to be going to that meeting with John Schneider.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” said Pam with a laugh, “Jim's pretty sure that Jan rang him up for a booty call, and Michael made a detour and drove them all to his condo where she was waiting. Jim and Dwight had to stay in the car and wait. Didn't Jim tell you about this?”

Karen gave Jim a glance which made Pam wonder if she was being too talkative. Either way, it was too late now. The cat was out of the bag. She couldn't read Jim's expression, but he seemed very intent on finishing his ham and cheese sandwich while looking as innocent as people.

“No,” said Karen, “Jim didn't tell me that. He said they were late but he didn't say anything about Michael hooking up with Jan. How come I haven't heard about this, Jim?”

“I dunno – it seemed like maybe you'd think it was immature.”

“Michael hooking up with Jan? Of course it's immature. But it's still funny. I mean, I don't know why you let him waste your time like that when you guys needed to meet up with an important client. You should have been more insistent with him.”

“I guess I just went with it at the time. I thought it was funny.”

The three of them fell into an uneasy silence. Pam wondered if Karen was hurt by the fact that Jim hadn't shared any details about yesterday's incident with her. She was surprised that Karen wouldn't know; Jim had gotten back to work fairly late on Friday, but he had still had time to tell Pam about the incident. And she would have thought that Jim and his girlfriend might talk about it after work. Before she could consider it any further, however, she felt herself pushed aside as Creed pulled up a chair and sat between her and Jim.

“Hey guys,” he said, “I finished my soup and I heard you talking about the big man over here. What's up? He didn't kill somebody, did he?”

Jim threw a glance at Karen and Pam in turn, trying not to give Creed too much eye contact.

“Uh, no. Michael you mean? He didn't kill anybody.”

“Cool beans.”

Creed nodded and stared vacantly for a moment before noticing the half-eaten apple laying in front of Jim. He grabbed it and took a bite as Jim watched. After a few awkward minutes, he got up and left the break room; before the door even closed again, however, David Wallace popped his head in.

“Jim,” he said, “can I talk to you in the conference room for a minute?”

“Sure.”

Jim looked at Pam and his girlfriend before getting up from the table. As Jim left, looking a little nervous, Pam gave Karen a shrug in response to her questioning look. Karen seemed to be asking her why David Wallace would need to speak to Jim privately, but Pam had no guesses. Could Jim be in trouble? It seemed unlikely.

Either way, now that Jim was gone, she was a little more worried about the inevitable awkwardness that would come as a result of sitting at a table with only Karen for company. If she got up now, it might seem like she was trying to avoid Jim's girlfriend for some reason. And what reason would she have to avoid her? Pam hated awkward social situations. Maybe she'd get lucky and someone like Toby would come in to eat his lunch with them. She smiled nervously at Karen, who smiled back. The two of them dug themselves in for an uneasy ending to their lunch break.

.....

“Take a seat, Jim.”

On one side of the table in the middle of the conference room, David Wallace sat down, motioning for Jim to take a site on the other side. Jim pulled out his chair and took a seat, wondering why the CFO needed to talk to him alone. Although David hadn't said anything yet, Jim was getting a strong hunch that Michael was in some kind of trouble due to missing the meeting with John Schneider. If David was about to ask Jim for details on why exactly Michael was late, things could get very awkward, very quickly. Jim found himself getting increasingly nervous as he wondered what would happen if he had to spill Michael and Jan's relationship.. Nothing good, that was for sure.

“I'll get right to the point,” said David. “I got a call the other day from John Schneider, the CEO of Schneider's Groceries. He was complaining about Michael failing to show up for the lunch they were supposed to have together. I was talking to Michael about it, and he said you and Dwight both went along with him for the meeting.”

Jim nodded and waited for David to continue.

“I was just talking to Michael in his office, and he told me that you guys were late to the meeting because you pulled a prank on Dwight.”

It took a moment for David's comment to sink in, but once it did, Jim felt his jaw drop open. He probably looked like an idiot, but it happened before he could stop it.

“What?”

“He said that Dwight had the correct time for the meeting written in his daily planner, which you encased in jello and left in his car seat as a joke, and that Dwight ended up remembering the time incorrectly because he couldn't find the planner until he sat on it later after work.”

Jim involuntarily snorted with laughter. It was a ridiculous story, and he hadn't encased any of Dwight's belongings in jello for at least a week or two. You had to leave time in between jello encasings for Dwight to let his guard down again, after all. But David was not smiling. Jim began to realize that the CFO was taking Michael's claim seriously.

“That's not what happened, David. Michael is-”

“I had Dwight join me and Michael in the office to confirm it, and he agreed that was what happened, Jim.”

Jim tried to reply, but found himself temporarily at a loss for words.

“Now, look, Jim – I've gotten some complaints from Dwight about your pranks in the past, and I have to admit they're pretty funny sometimes. I mean, Dwight's kind of a weird guy, I understand that. But sometimes joking around at the office can go a little too far. Schneider was a valued customer, and he told me on the phone he had been thinking about the prospect of switching to a different paper company before this meeting was supposed to happen. He was on the fence, and the fact that you guys didn't show up was what sealed the deal for him. That's a lost customer, Jim.”

“David, I'm telling you, they're both lying.”

Jim was more insistent this time, and for a moment, David looked like he was considering Jim's claim.

“You're accusing both Michael and Dwight of lying about this? Then what actually happened? Why were you guys late?”

Jim opened his mouth to speak, no words came out. He found himself unable to speak. He knew the truth, but his mind raced as he began to wonder what would happen if he told the truth. Accusing Michael and Jan of having a sexual relationship – one that was interfering with their work, no less – was a serious accusation, even if it was true.

Apparently both Michael and Dwight had lied to David about why the three of them were late. The only explanation that Jim could think of was that Michael, and maybe Jan, were trying to cover up the nature of their relationship. Could he really prove anything? And if he could, Jim knew that both Michael and Jan could be in serious trouble.

Jan had treated him decently in the past, and Jim sometimes sympathized with Michael against all odds. He found himself feeling like he had been thrown to the wolves, and yet the thought of what might happen to Jan and Michael's careers if they were discovered made Jim hesitate. He knew it was stupid to think about what would happen to them when his boss had just accused him of something he didn't do, but Jim couldn't help it. He could get them both fired.

“Jim,” said David after it became apparent that Jim had no response ready, “this isn't the end of the world. We've lost customers before, and you're a good salesman. We're happy to have you here at Dunder Mifflin. I know this was just a joke gone wrong, but the pranking has to stop if it leads to things like this. We're facing a lot of competition nowadays, and we need every customer we can get - we can't make silly mistakes like this in the future. Right now I'm just giving you a reprimand, but make sure this kind of thing doesn't happen again, okay?”

Jim nodded faintly. David Wallace sat quietly for another moment, gave an officious nod, and got up from his seat.

“Back to work,” he said. “I have to get back to corporate now.”

David extended a hand, which Jim shook weakly as he felt a hot, stinging blush wash over his cheeks. Conflicting emotions began to run back and forth through his mind as David left the conference room. Jim did not want to leave yet – he sat back down momentarily. He felt angry at Michael and Dwight for lying. Angry at himself for not owning up to the truth, even though he still wasn't sure what would have happened if he did.

They had pinned such a ludicrous accusation on him – it didn't even make sense, as Jim as pretty sure that John Schneider was a client Michael usually liked to handle personally even though he was manager now, so there was no reason why Dwight would have been keeping the time of the meeting in his planner. But it had convinced David that missing the meeting was Jim's fault. It was hard to concentrate on what had just happened.

Beneath the anger, deeper and broader, was humiliation. After that meeting, thought Jim, David must think I'm an idiot.

He knew he had come off like an idiot, sitting and stammering with nothing to say. The rest of his coworkers had probably seen him going into the conference room with David and known something was going down. And now, he had to return to work for another few hours.

Jim gathered the courage to get up and open the door to the conference room. David had already left, and sure enough, almost everyone in the office was watching him while trying to pretend they weren't. Some were staring openly, some were trying to take brief glances from the corners of their eyes before looking back to their computers. Jim caught Pam's eye for a second and saw the concerned crinkle on her forehead as he made his way slowly to his desk and sat down. Karen got up and walked over to his side.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

Karen stood for another moment, as if she was considering whether or not she would press Jim on the subject. She made up her mind and returned to her desk instead of asking anything else, glancing up worriedly from time to time.

The eyes around the room gradually returned to their work as Jim sat numbly at his desk. He got the strange sensation that two pairs of eyes, however, were still watching him. He looked up at Michael's office. Sure enough, Michael and Dwight were inside, looking out through the window.

Jim stared back at them until Michael closed the blinds.

.....

.....
Indecisions
.....

The end of the work day drew closer, and above the sound of fingers typing and papers shifting, Jim could have sworn he heard a clock ticking its minutes away. He stared at his computer screen. It showed a spreadsheet, which he had loaded earlier to make it look like he was working, but he wondered if he had clicked the mouse or typed a key a single time in the last hour. He was waiting for the day to be through so he could go home. David Wallace had long since left, and soon after Jim had emerged from the conference room and sat at his desk, he had noticed Dwight giving him malicious glances, even speaking up at one point.

“How's it going, Jim?”

“I'm not getting fired, Dwight. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

The glances stopped after that, and while Karen had come over to ask what was going on, Jim had told her did not feel like talking about it. Pam had also given him a few worried looks, but did not come over to say anything; Jim wondered if she felt like it was awkward to ask him what was wrong after she had seen Karen doing it already. Pam and Karen had gotten along at the Christmas party, Jim remembered, but the two of them had never really shifted into an actual friendship. Jim knew why, of course. He couldn't decide if Pam and Karen generally keeping their distance from each other was good or bad.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim noticed a slight shift in the blinds behind the window of Michael's office. His thoughts turned away from his complicated relationships with certain coworkers of the female persuasion as he began to steel himself for a confrontation. He had chosen to ignore Michael for the last few hours, feeling too angry and confused over the whole incident with David to do anything, but he needed to talk to his boss before the day was through. And it was almost through.

Jim made up his mind. He left his chair and approached Micheal's closed office door, giving it a sharp rap with his knuckles which went unanswered. After Michael ignored another rap, Jim tried opening the door. It was unlocked. He stepped inside and closed it behind him, turning to look at Michael, who was sitting alone in the darkness.

“Why don't you turn on a light, Michael?”

Michael stared quizzically at his desk lamp for a moment before turning it on. Jim sat down across from him and tried to collect his thoughts. There was no easy way to start a conversation with Michael even when the man was at his best behavior, so Jim already began to get the unpleasant feeling that he would get nothing satisfying from the next few minutes.

“Why did you lie to David about me?”

Michael affected a slack-jawed expression, eyes bugged out to such an extent that Jim would have found it comical in different circumstances. He was familiar with the face Michael used when he was trying to feign surprise. It was not convincing.

“Lie about you? What do you mean? What did David say I said?”

“He said you told him that we were late because Dwight had the time of the client meeting written in his planner, which I put in jello in his car. Which has got to be the lamest thing I've ever heard, Michael.”

“Hey, you're the one who puts Dwight's stuff in jello!”

Jim frowned; although he was angry at his boss, Michael had him on that point at least.

“Look, Jim, I just didn't have time to think of a better excuse, so-”

“So you admit you lied to him, at least?”

“Well, yes. Per se, that is such the case that, it is what I said. Yes.. I omitted the truth. In favor of a different – okay, look, we're getting off track here. I would have gotten in so much trouble if I told David what really happened!”

“What, about you sleeping with Jan on work time?”

“Hey now. Too far.”

Jim raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, okay, fine. But what else was I supposed to do? If I had lied to David about Dwight doing something that made us late, would you have gone along with it?”

“What, you're asking if I would have backed up your lie to David? No.”

“See? I had to ask Dwight to back up my story to convince David, otherwise he would have found about me and Jan, and who knows what would have happened! I had no choice!”

“No choice? So you blame it on me? David could have fired me, Michael!”

“But he didn't, did he? He told me he wasn't going to fire you! I could have been punished a lot worse than you got punished, Jim; I think you're acting like kind of a baby.”

Jim groaned and leaned back in his chair, holding his hands over his face in exasperation. He had been trying to rein in his temper over the last few hours, but after a minute of conversation with Michael, he was losing it all over again. Michael was impossible to reason with.. It was true that his boss had gotten himself stuck between a rock and a hard place, but Jim had a hard time sympathizing with his boss's plights when they ended up burning him in the process.

“You know, Michael, it's pretty funny that you can pretend I'm somehow your friend and then turn around and do this to me without a second thought,” said Jim, his voice rising. He knew he was probably attracting the attention of some of his coworkers outside, but he didn't care. “You make me look like a fool in front of David for something I didn't even do, and you expect me to just shut up and take it?”

Michael bit his lip nervously.

“That's what she said,” he finally sputtered out.

Jim sat silently. For a moment he wondered if that was what Jan said to Michael, but the thought made him shudder and he pushed it aside, instead giving his boss a glare that could cut through glass. Judging by Michael's silently twitching expression, Jim got the impression that his boss was wrestling with himself over what else to say. Jim wasn't really sure what he was hoping to get from the conversation himself. He wanted to vent, at least. Maybe he just wanted an apology, when it came right down to it. Jim didn't know if an apology would be enough, but it was the bare minimum.

But he wasn't going to ask for one. Michael needed to give him one on his own. Any reasonable person could see Michael had gone over the line, and Jim wanted him to acknowledge that. As he watched, however, Micheal's shifting features finally settled themselves into a hardened, glowering expression.

It was clear that Jim would get nothing from him.

“Fine.”

He got up and left the room, leaving Michael sitting stock still behind his desk. Jim was glad he waited until the end of the day to confront Michael, because he couldn't wait until he left the office.

.....

Kevin, Oscar, and Angela wrapped up their accounting work for the day as they got ready to leave. They had already seen Michael leave early, and Pam had just left the receptionist's desk. Several other coworkers were also gathering their things, throwing on coats and closing their desktops. Kevin grabbed a handful of M&M's and got up from his chair while throwing Jim a sympathetic glance, but he was talking quietly with Karen and did not seem to notice it. He looked at his two accounting coworkers instead.

"You guys think Jim's in trouble?” he asked Angela and Oscar. “He totally looked like he was in trouble.”

“Michael told David it was Jim's fault they missed their little sales meeting yesterday,” said Oscar as he made a few last adjustments on his computer.

“How do you know that?”

“I asked him when I went into his office earlier. It took me about three minutes to get it out of him. I just took his slinky and kept haranguing him until he talked.”

“I don't think it's any of our business,” said Angela as she buttoned her coat.

“Oh come on Angela, you know you're interested.”

“I am not!”

“Whatever,” said Kevin as the three of them left their accounting corner together. “I saw you watching David Wallace when he left. Either you wanted to know what he said to Jim, or you think he's hot.”

“Definitely the latter,” said Oscar. Kevin gave him a high five, which he gleefully accepted.

“You're both disgusting.”

“I just hope Jim isn't in any trouble,” said Kevin. “He always gives me the best advice on my fantasy football. If he got fired, that would suck.”

Oscar shook his head. “I don't think Jim is going to be fired. Michael got defensive when I told him what he did was wrong, but he made it sound like it was no big deal. To be honest, I'm surprised Jim hasn't gotten in trouble before. He doesn't really work that much.”

“True,” agreed Angela.

“He just knows how to take it easy! You guys are so judgmental.”

Angela always said she hated office gossip, but the three of them engaged in it constantly, Angela often joining in after her resistance failed while listening to Oscar and Kevin talk about someone else in the office. Michael always gave them more than enough to talk about. He had left his office earlier than usual today, trying to avoid saying much to anyone and shaking his head at his coworkers as they left the office. Kevin finished the remainder of the M&M's he was carrying in his hand as he wondered exactly what had gone down earlier. He patted Jim on the back as they passed by the sales desks on their way out.

“You wanna talk about it, man?”

“Uh, not really Kevin,” said Jim, who seemed to be waiting for Karen to finish something on her computer before the two of them left. “But thanks anyway.”

“Alright man, just come over to accounting if you need some guy talk.”

The accountants left the office and made their way down the stairway.

“Guy talk?” said Oscar.

“You wouldn't understand, Oscar,” Kevin said with a titter.

Angela shot him a severe glance as they went down the stairs, and Kevin fell silent until they reached the sidewalk and parted ways. Tonight, he was planning to watch a game he had on tape and make some pigs in blankets. He would have to ask Jim what was up later, and make sure his friend knew that he always had his back. Unless Oscar had gotten the story wrong and Jim actually did something bad. In which case Kevin figured Jim was on his own.

.....

“Hey guys, what's up?”

Pam approached Roy, Darryl, and the overweight warehouse worker whose name she always forgot. Roy and Darryl always called him squid or something like that. Something on the theme of sea life. The three of them were chatting a bit near the bailer, and Pam got the feeling that any work in the warehouse had already ceased a while ago.

Darryl nodded. “Hey,” he said curtly.

“Hey baby,” said Roy.

Squid – or whatever his name was – nodded briefly in her direction before the three of them resumed their conversation. They apparently didn't think Pam would have any interest in it as they didn't include her, which she didn't particularly mind as she wasn't really interested. It sounded like they were laughing at something a mutual acquaintance had done, and Pam's mind was on other things. Jim, to be specific.

She didn't know what David had said to Jim in the conference room, but his pleasant mood during lunch had been changed almost instantly. She had wanted to ask him what happened all day, but – once again – Karen's presence made things awkward somehow. It was like Karen was an obstacle, there to make every interaction with Jim stranger, more difficult, even if it was not intentional. Jim's brief visit to Michael's office was even stranger; the angry tone she had caught in his voice while he was talking to Michael, and his even darker mood when he came back out of the room. She would have to ask him what was going on when she got a good opportunity.

“You ready to go?” asked Roy as he wrapped up his conversation with his fellow warehouse workers.

“Sure.”

“Alright dude, I'll catch you later,” said Darryl as he and Roy bumped fists.

Pam followed her boyfriend – she had to think about it for a moment, but she supposed they were beginning to go out together again - as the two of them left the warehouse and walked into the parking lot. A couple of vehicles were already leaving, and she caught a glimpse of Dwight's Trans Am roaring out of the lot. Pam pressed a button on the beeper attached to her key ring, unlocking the doors to her newish car, and was about to turn and say goodbye when Roy paused.

“I was actually wondering if you wanted to come by our – by my place.”

“Oh,” said Pam.

There was something amusing about the question. Maybe even strange. The man to whom she had been engaged for five years, the man she had dated since high school, and yet the way he asked the question made it sound like they were still at square one.

Pam wondered if her reaction was strange as well. They had been living together until she canceled their wedding, but now, somehow she was hesitant towards the idea of going over to Roy's place, even though she had already done it a few times. What used to be their place, she reminded herself. After their aborted wedding, Pam knew that any attempt at rekindling things might be a little awkward for a while. But she had to make an effort, just like Roy had to, if they wanted to make things right again.

While Roy waited for her answer, Pam noticed Jim and Karen behind him, about to get into Karen's car. She wondered Jim was going to his girlfriend's place. He still didn't look like he was in a great mood, but the two of them kissed before getting into the car, and Jim had a hint of a smile on his face afterwards. Pam returned her attention to Roy, deciding that she could use a little company that night herself.

“Yes,” she told him. “I would like to come over.”

.....

Evening was already descending over Scranton by the time Karen pulled her car into the parking lot of her apartment complex. The street lamps were beginning to light up against the deepening blue backdrop of the sky, and apartment windows glowed with soft yellow light. Jim was in the passenger's seat of her car; she had given him a ride to work that morning, and it would only be a short distance back to his own apartment whenever he needed to go back.

Jim got out of his side and joined Karen, who had already gotten out of the car to root around in her trunk. They had stopped for groceries after leaving work. Karen pulled out a couple of plastic bags and passed them to her boyfriend as she closed the trunk. Jim didn't mind carrying the bags; not surprising, as that was the boyfriend's duty, thought Karen with a little grin. The two of them made their way to her apartment door, and Jim waited while she opened it and flipped on the lights.

“So,” said Karen as she pointed a finger, indicating that Jim should put the grocery bags on the island table in her kitchen, “you gonna tell me any more about what exactly happened today to make you so angry?”

“If you really want to know,” teased Jim as he placed the bags on the island and began to remove the groceries.

“I do want to know. I don't think I've seen you that pissed since we started dating. I didn't think it was possible for Jim Halpert to get angry.”

Jim let out an amused grunt as he sorted through Karen's groceries. Karen definitely ate healthier than he did, although the only thing they had grabbed for dinner tonight was a roast chicken and some potato salad. He wasn't sure if potato salad was healthy or not. Potatoes and salads both sounded healthy, but together, with mayonnaise mixed in? He couldn't be sure.

Karen joined him at the counter. “Well,” she said as she grabbed the milk and opened the fridge, “spill!”

“Okay. Basically, Michael told David Wallace it was my fault that we were late to the meeting with Schneider, and Dwight backed him up. Wallace took me into the conference room to talk about it.”

Karen froze in mid-transfer of groceries, holding a carton of eggs in her hand as she stared worriedly at her boyfriend.

“To talk about it? What does that mean?”

“He reprimanded me,” said Jim. “I think that was the way he put it.”

“So, what, you're not fired?”

Jim shook his head. Karen breathed a sigh of relief and resumed putting her groceries away, although relief turned quickly to indignation. “I can't believe that little snot Dwight would back up Michael's lie!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, I can believe it. That wasn't surprising at all.”

“Still, it's over the line. And Michael thought he could get away with it? Is that why you went into his office and sounded all angry right before work ended?”

“I wanted to see what he was thinking, but that was kind of a lost cause.”

“Well, what are you going to do?”

Jim raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, a little confused by her question.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You're going to tell David what really happened, aren't you?”

“I tried to tell him it wasn't my fault, but it was my word against Michael and Dwight's. And the thing is, if I push it too much, I basically have to tell him about Michael and Jan's relationship, which would get both of them in major trouble, if I could even prove it. It really comes down to who David Wallace believes, because there's no way to prove anything.”

Karen looked unhappy with Jim's explanation, and as the last of the groceries disappeared into her refrigerator and cupboards, Jim could tell that she was trying to think of some way to keep the subject going even though he didn't really feel like talking about it that much. He had been thinking about it all day, of course, but he knew that Karen wouldn't see eye to eye with him.

Sure enough, she spoke up as she threw the plastic bags into another recycling bag beneath the sink. “It just seems wrong to let Michael walk all over you,” she said, getting out a couple of plates and portioning out the roast chicken and potato salad. “I don't know how you can just accept that.”

Jim poured a soda for the two of them and sat down on a stool next to the island table. Karen stood up; Jim had noticed that she sometimes had an interesting habit of eating her meals quickly while standing, not bothering to sit down anywhere. The island doubled as her kitchen table, even though Jim thought it would probably be more comfortable to eat in the apartment's living room.

He thought about Karen's complaint as he took a bite of the chicken. Maybe she didn't disagree with him as much as he thought; Jim did feel like Michael had gone over the line, and it seemed wrong to just accept it. He had avoided getting in any serious trouble with David, but David's opinion of him was affected by Michael's lie, and Jim knew that it might not be the last time Michael got him in trouble unfairly. He and Karen finished the rest of the meal in relative silence.

“Well,” said Karen as she finished off the last of her potato salad, “it sounds like your day totally sucked.”

“That's one way to put it.”

“It's a good thing you're here then. Because we're going to have fun tonight!”

“Nice,” said Jim in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.

Karen rolled her eyes. Judging by his tone, she was fairly sure her boyfriend was pulling a Kevin impression to bug her. “Not like that, stupid,” she said. “Well, we'll see. But I feel like a movie and popcorn tonight, and I just so happen to have a feel-good romantic comedy in mind that I think you'll enjoy!”

“As long as it's not the one I got you for Christmas.”

“No,” laughed Karen. “not that one.”

“Because I've already watched the copy you gave me about five times since then. It's my new favorite movie!”

“Riiight. Just get your butt on the couch and get comfortable, get the movie ready, and I'll make us some popcorn.”

“Right after dinner?”

“I'm hungry, Halpert. Give me a break.”

Jim smiled and plopped himself down on the couch. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to get the movie ready when Karen hadn't told him which one they were going to watch, so instead, he turned on the television and began to flip channels until he found the local news. Nothing interesting ever happened in Scranton, and the news tonight seemed even more boring than usual. As the newscaster droned on, his thoughts raced quickly back to his day at work.

The more he thought about what Michael had done, the more he thought there really wasn't any good way to deal with what had happened. He had been humiliated in front of the CFO, his boss had thrown him under the bus, and Dwight obviously had no problem trying to get him fired, which perhaps wasn't as surprising. Jim knew that in most people's books, that would be the definition of a toxic work environment. Michael didn't seem to have any conception of what he had done or why Jim was upset by it, and he knew that it could happen again.

Worse than all of that, however, was that Jim couldn't shake the feeling of being responsible for what had happened, at least in part. He knew Michael was absent-minded; he knew Jan had a strange effect on his boss; he even knew what had been going on when Michael got the call from Jan and made the detour to his condo. Jim had seen Jan past the doorway, if only for a second, and instead of trying to talk some sense into Michael before they got to the condo or just insisting that Michael get back in the car and go to the client meeting first, Jim had sat back and let it all happen. It was amusing. It was a story he could share with Pam, or even his roommate.

Jim knew that Michael's unprofessional behavior was not his fault, but he wondered if he was really any more professional than Michael. He had to admit that he didn't take his job very seriously, and hearing David Wallace say he was aware of his pranks was a little jarring. Jim was not getting any younger. He was still stuck in a job which gave him nothing in the way of enjoyment or pride, doing nothing to get out of it. There was something ridiculous, he thought to himself, about quitting the Scranton branch only to come right back to it later, willing to deal with the same monotony, the same workplace drama that he had tried to leave behind in the first place.

“Here you go,” said Karen as she returned with two bowls of popcorn. “Why isn't the movie on?”

“You didn't tell me which movie.”

“Oh. Whoops.”

Karen put down her popcorn and went over to the DVD rack beside her television, flipping through the titles until she found the movie she was looking for. She popped it into the player and sat on the couch beside Jim, resting her head against his shoulder as the credits began to roll. Jim tried to focus his attention, but he was still thinking about how to deal with what had happened to him that day. Only one thing came to mind. Now that his mood had calmed down from that afternoon, he was willing to talk about it with Karen.

“You know what? I'm thinking about quitting.”

Jim twitched a little, startled, as Karen jerked her head up from his shoulder.

“You what?”

“Quitting Dunder Mifflin. Maybe you're right about not just accepting what Michael did to me. I mean, it was worse than usual this time, but I mean, come on - people like Michael or Dwight aren't going to get any better. I've been thinking about it, and I need to get up off my butt and do something if I'm not satisfied.”

Karen stared at him in silence for a moment. The movie had already started, and she grabbed the remote to pause it before returning her attention to her boyfriend.

“Just like that, you decide to quit? Isn't this a little sudden?”

“It makes sense, doesn't it?”

Karen sat back on the couch, at a loss for words. Jim munched on a handful of popcorn, feeling like the atmosphere had suddenly become much more uncomfortable that it had been a few seconds ago.

“What would you do instead?” asked Karen.

“I don't know.”

“So, what, you just thought of this now?”

Jim nodded. He waited for a response from his girlfriend. Some kind of opinion on the matter. Based on what she had told him moments ago while they were having dinner, Jim wondered why she seemed to be so surprised. He would have thought Karen would understand where he was coming from. Of course it might make things difficult for their relationship at first, depending on what kind of new job he got and where it might take him, but he could find something local. And it was possible that Karen might want to quit too. He knew she had been feeling a little out of place in the Scranton branch after her Stamford coworkers left, and it might do the two of them a lot of good to get a change of scenery.

Karen, however, was silent on the issue. A few moments passed while Jim waited and glanced uncomfortably in her direction. She seemed to be deep in thought, but finally she grabbed the remote and her bowl of popcorn again, unpausing the movie.

“Let's just watch this, okay?”

“Sure.”

The sound of movie dialogue and popcorn munching filled the apartment, but somehow, Jim found it unbearably silent at the same time. The option of quitting had been lurking in the back of his mind ever since his dissatisfying confrontation with Michael, but only in the last half hour had he started to really take the thought seriously. Particularly after the conversation he had just had with Karen. But her reaction had definitely not been what he was expecting. He decided that the only thing he could do for now was to try and enjoy the movie.

.....

.....
Two Week's Notice
.....

Facing another morning at the office was much less stressful than Jim had anticipated. He wasn't in a great mood, but he felt like a weight had been lifted off him as he nodded to Earl in the lobby before taking the elevator up to the Dunder Mifflin offices. He gave Pam a smile and a nod on his way in. Dealing with Michael and Dwight would be more annoying than usual, but he could do it. He had made his decision. He was going to quit.

Karen had discussed things with him more after the movie, and while she seemed to be taken off guard by Jim's sudden decision, she hadn't said anything to convince Jim otherwise. She told him she thought he was being a little rash, but then Jim remembered her telling him more than once in the past that he didn't take his job seriously enough. He knew she meant that he should think about moving up in the Dunder Mifflin corporate chain, but Jim preferred making a fresh start. David Wallace now had a negative opinion of him, anyway. And who wanted to sell paper their whole lives? Nobody, that's who.

“You're looking chipper,” said Dwight.

Jim chose to ignore his desk mate as he sat down and turned on the computer. Even the prospect of working on spreadsheets and making sales calls didn't bore him the way it used to. He wasn't excited about it, but he knew he didn't have to worry about it much either. Maybe he would be even lazier than usual today. As he thought about it, Jim decided it was better to get his business with Michael out of the way before he actually started any work. He got back up from his chair almost as soon as he had sat down and knocked on Michael's door.

“Come in.”

Jim entered, and Michael gave him a nervous look as he sat down.

“I have to talk to you, Michael.”

“What about?”

“I'm giving you my two week's notice.”

Michael sat still for a moment, processing Jim's words. His face was blank, at first, and then for a moment his mouth curled into a smile, then a snigger of amusement. Michael's laughter got no reaction, however, and his snigger soon faded as he realized Jim was being totally serious.

“Wha – why? Why would you quit?”

“Seriously, Michael? Do I have to explain it?”

“Come on, Jim, you're being ridiculous. Quitting your job just because I got you in a little trouble with David? It's not that big a deal, man!”

“It's a big deal to me, Michael.”

“Well, if it's such a big deal, I'm sorry, okay?”

Jim paused, caught a little off guard by Michael's apology. He had not come in expecting one so quickly, and he was forced to ask himself if it was enough. It didn't seem very sincere. Even an insincere apology from Michael was better than nothing, but it didn't really solve the problem either.

“Are you going to tell David Wallace the truth?”

“You know I can't do that, Jim. My job would be on the line. So would Jan's.”

“You don't even have to tell him anything about you and Jan, you know. You can just say it was your fault, that you were messing around at your condo and ended up late to the meeting, or that you got the time wrong. It's that simple. Why you messed up is not really the point – the point is that you messed up and blamed me for it.”

“I'm sorry, okay?”

“Sorry doesn't cut it, Michael. You're sorry, but you're still not willing to take the blame?”

“John Schneider was a big client. I know, it was stupid, I just – I messed up, but I'm not supposed to mess up, you know? You're just a grunt, Jim, you can do anything you want, but I'm the manager. The little fishes swim in the sharks mouth, but the big fishes get eaten, right? You understand what I'm saying, Jim?”

“You're talking about fish.”

“But the fishes are us!”

Jim resisted the urge to toy with Michael. That wasn't why he had come in.

“Look, David trusted me to manage this Scranton and Stamford merger, and then there was that whole thing with the fat guy and the black guy, and Andy with the hole in the wall, and if David thinks it's my fault I lost a big client he's not gonna be happy! What if he hires Josh Porter and makes him take my job?”

“Josh works at Staples now.. What are you talking about?”

“You never know! Who knows, maybe David would fire me and put Toby in my place. You and I both know Toby's been gunning after my job for a while, Jim, and this would be the perfect opportunity.”

Jim rubbed his temples as Michael blathered on. It was hard to tell whether his boss was genuinely concerned about losing his job in the event that David thought he was to blame, or if he was just rambling in order to avoid acknowledging the truth in what Jim said, or a little of both. But it was clear that he did not want to accept the consequences of his actions.

“Look, Michael, enough. I'm giving you my two week's notice, today.”

“You can't give me two weeks notice if I fire you!”

Jim stared at Michael, who briefly smacked the table in triumph, but then seemed to reconsider his idea.

“Really?” asked Jim. “After Tony Gardner, you're going to try that again?”

“No, look, I just blurted it out. I was just upset. Come on, Jim, we're like a family here, we're best friends – why do you want to leave? Is it something I said?”

“Oh my God!”

Jim thought about telling Michael that best friends didn't do what he did, and that coworkers and bosses were not a family in any sense of the word, but he knew it was a waste of time. Anything he said would go right over Michael's head. And strangely enough, as angry as Michael made him, as impossible as it was to talk to him, Jim still felt some kind of sympathy for his boss. He knew the man considered him to be his best friend, even though Dwight was around Michael more often, and he knew that Michael saw his workers as his family. Even now, Jim couldn't bring himself to tear that idea down in front of Michael.

“I'm going back to work,” said Jim.

He got up and left Michael's office, leaving his boss sitting stone-faced in his desk chair for the second time in as many days. As he sat down at his own desk, both Karen and Pam gave him glances. While he hadn't really gotten the chance to talk to Pam about what was going on, he knew that Karen was ambivalent at best towards his decision. Despite her worries, he had told he last night that he would be giving Michael his two week's notice this morning. And Jim couldn't help but feel a certain pride at actually following through. It was going to happen. Soon, Jim Halpert would never sell another piece of paper again. Unless he got a job at a different paper company. But he'd try to avoid that.

The rhythmic clicking of a staple remover coming from across his desk brought Jim's attention to Dwight, who was swiveling slowly in his chair and sitting back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “You must have really gotten in trouble yesterday, huh? What did David Wallace do to you, Jim?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “You do know that I know you and Michael lied about me, right?”

“Of course I know you know... I know that – yes. Yes, I know.”

“You don't feel guilty about that at all?”

Jim knew it was a stupid question, but he couldn't resist.

“No, I do not feel guilty, Jim.”

“It was over the line.”

“False. It was right on the line, the line that you drew with all your pranks and lack of respect towards me. This is just tit for tit, Jim. You scratch my back, I scratch yours.”

“That's not what that expression means.”

Dwight narrowed his eyes and clicked his staple remover more viciously.

“It's a shame David Wallace didn't fire you. I totally thought he was going to do it. Are you sure he didn't?”

“If you want me gone, Dwight, you don't have to worry about that.”

Jim noticed Phyllis perking her head up from behind Dwight as she caught the ending of the conversation. Dwight himself looked a little confused by Jim's comment, but before he could say anything, the door to Michael's office swung open and Michael stepped out, clearing his throat loudly to get everyone's attention.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Excuse me, everyone. I have a very important announcement to make. Due to an unfortunate misunderstanding that a certain someone has taken waaay out of proportion, Jim Halpert will be quitting his job and leaving his extended family here at Dunder-Mifflin behind, without so much as a second thought. I just thought you guys should all know that, because it's not just Jim's business, it's everybody's business.”

A murmur went up around the office.

“What do you mean?” asked Phyllis. “What unfortunate misunderstanding?”

“Yes, Michael,” said Jim, “do you want to tell them?”

“That's no one's business, Jim. Just quit being such a baby!”

Michael's voice broke a little on the 'word' baby, and he ducked back into his office as if trying to avoid having anyone see him cry. After his bizarre outburst, Jim wouldn't be surprised if he spent the next several hours alone in his office. He got the impression that Michael was feeling guilty, but it didn't bother him; Michael should feel guilty. It was just ironic that he was trying to hide it by doing something as childish as calling Jim a baby.

Dwight gave Jim a strange expression. “You're quitting?” he blurted out, before resuming his normal taciturn look.

Phyllis seemed to share his surprise. “Jim,” she said, “what happened with Michael?”

“It really doesn't matter. I'm sorry, but I'd like to do a little work right now.”

Karen watched as her boyfriend focused on his computer. Jim was sometimes unwilling to put the blame where the blame was due, but Karen had no problem telling everyone what happened. She didn't share Jim's sympathy for his boss. Maybe it was just her lack of familiarity with Michael Scott, but she got the feeling personality was a part of it too. Jim was definitely more passive than she was.

“Micheal lied about Jim to David Wallace and blamed him for something he didn't do,” said Karen.

Kelly Kapoor, who was standing farther back at the other end of the office, gasped theatrically in surprise. A couple other employees around the room looked surprised, but most everyone else nodded, as if they had just been told the blatantly obvious. Their reactions confirmed Karen's suspicions: Jim's Scranton coworkers, most of whom had been around Michael as long or longer than Jim had been, were not surprised at anything Michael did anymore.

“You don't mind me blabbing it to everyone, do you?” she asked Jim.

Jim smiled, glancing up at his computer.

“Just as long as you field all the questions.”

Karen stuck her tongue out as Jim returned to his work.

.....

Through the open blinds of his office window, Michael watched as Jim Halpert typed away at his computer. He could also see Dwight and Pam at their desks. Soon after Jim had given Michael his two week's notice and returned to the main room, Michael had overheard some muttered conversation from his workers and gotten what seemed like a dirty look from Pam. And not the good kind of dirty look, either. Jim had not glanced in the direction of his office, but Michael had a sneaking suspicion that Jim was very deliberately holding himself back from shooting dirty looks Michael's way. Why wouldn't he, after all?

Clearly he hates me now, thought Michael. I do one little thing and they all turn against me.

Minutes passed in silence. Michael decided the whole incident had put him in such a bad mood that there was no way he'd get any work done that day. He gave his Hawaiian-themed screen saver a melancholy sigh and got up from his desk chair, walking up to his window and peering at his coworkers through the blinds to see if they were talking about him.

Most of them seemed to be busy; whatever Jim had said when he left Michael's office earlier had not caused the mutiny that Michael had been briefly anticipating. The office was thrumming along at its normal level of relaxing monotony. Michael watched as Ryan photocopied a few papers, and while he glanced up from his photocopying for a moment, it didn't look like he caught Michael's friendly nod and wave. Ryan often seemed to have a hard time catching Michael's greetings for some reason. Dwight noticed him peering through the blinds, however, and gave him an officious nod. Dwight could be a real suck up sometimes. But then, Michael figured there was a fine line between loyalty and suckuppery.

Returning to his desk, Michael was about to consider surfing the net for funny internet videos when Dwight opened the door and strode inside his office, not even bothering to knock or ask permission. “Hello Michael,” he said. “You looked a little concerned when you were staring out the window at everyone.”

“No, Dwight, I'm not concerned. Not at all. Just anxious. Troubled, you could say.”

“Why is that?”

“Jim,” said Michael matter-of-factly. He found himself unable to go into more detail, as his feelings on the subject were proving to be a little too complicated for him to handle. The more he tried to think about it, the more he wanted to find a distraction from his troubled feelings. If only it was pretzel day.

“You did the right thing, Michael,” said Dwight. “It was Jim or you, and Jim got off easy. And hey, now that Jim is going to leave, I'll be able to handle all of his clients! Maybe I can even take Andy's clients once he fails his anger management classes.”

“You don't know he's going to fail, Dwight.”

“The man is a volcano of rage pent up inside a spoiled ivy league pretty boy exterior, Michael. He's probably just learning how to hide it better in anger management. Coming from his rich background and dealing with the hard-knock life of an office worker must be hell for him. He'll come back, probably murder a client in a fury – unless you fire him first like you did with Jim!”

“I didn't fire Jim, Dwight,” snapped Michael.

“Right, right, sorry. I mean, if you make him quit. Then I can handle the work of three men, which is not a problem for me at all. I could probably handle four or five men, depending on their sizes. That's really the best solution for the office, don't you think?”

“What are you doing, Dwight? Is this some kind of power thing? You know I'll just have to hire new salesmen if Andy and Jim are gone. Andy has nothing to do with this anyway.”

Dwight's eye twitched involuntarily. He had come in to see how Michael was doing, but he had also wanted to try and see if he could kill two birds with one stone and get Michael to remove Andy as a threat. Unfortunately, Dwight hadn't exactly planned his approach before he actually walked through Michael's office door. And no matter what he did, he couldn't remove Stanley and Phyllis – Stanley was too beloved by Michael, and while no one else in the office seemed to notice it, Dwight recognized a certain Machiavellian edge in Phyllis that he was hesitant to bring down on himself. For now, he would have to settle for just being there for Michael in his time of need.

“Don't worry about Jim,” said Dwight as passed around Michael's desk and took a position behind his seat. “He won't do anything to get us in trouble. It's not like telling David that he put my planner in jello was that much of a lie, anyway. He does things like that all the time.”

Dwight placed his hands on Michael's shoulders and began to squeeze, eliciting a yelp from Michael as he craned his neck around to see what Dwight was doing. “Stop that!” he said.

“I'm just giving you a back massage, Michael. Relax.”

Michael grumbled before settling back into his chair. Dwight kneaded slowly, and Michael had to admit that even in his worst moods, it was hard to resist one of Dwight's massages. He was just about to settle down and enjoy it when his office door opened yet again. This time, Pam and Phyllis walked in.

“Michael,” said Pam as she closed the door behind her, “Jim's quitting because of what you did. You're not even going to apologize?”

“Take a chill pill, Pamster. I tried to apologize, but Jim's being immature about it. There's nothing I can do.”

“You could tell the truth,” said Phyllis.

Dwight shook his head condescendingly at his coworkers. “Oh, you two,” he said with a laugh, “so naïve and idealistic. Michael's the boss. The head honcho, the captain of us all in this office ship.”

Pam crossed her arms and blinked several times.

“What?”

“Michael has to call the shots, Pam. He has to make the hard decisions, and sometimes he has to take one of the weaker crew members and throw them to the sharks in order to save himself. How do you think he got to where he is now?”

“Hard work and good salesmanship,” answered Michael.

“Yes, but also unbending ruthlessness. Pam, Phyllis, that's business. It's not personal, it's the law of the jungle. We're in a paper jungle, and Michael is a paper tiger.”

While Dwight droned on, Michael couldn't help but frown at his hodge podge of analogies and explanations for why the two of them did what they did. Dwight was hard to follow at times, but Michael knew he didn't agree with his view of business. He thought about objecting, but Dwight was defending him against his hostile employees, who seemed to be siding with Jim even though Michael still thought he was being ridiculous. A slap on the hand from David was not a big deal. Michael could have gotten fired.

Dwight had stopped massaging him as he explained Michael's need to tell David it was Jim's fault, and Michael felt his stress returning as Pam and Phyllis gave Dwight increasingly confused looks. The next person to come through the door did not help matters.

“Michael,” said Toby as he walked in, “Jim just told me he's planning to quit, and he told me what you did. You're really going to let him-”

“Jim wants to leave his family, just like you wanted to leave yours.”

Toby fell momentarily silent, his stoic face holding no reaction to Michael's attack.

“I think we should talk about this, Michael.”

“I think you should go back to your cubicle and do whatever weird things you do back there in the Annex, Toby. Talk to Kelly or something.”

“But I-”

Michael groaned, massaging his forehead. Dwight stood behind him, resuming his shoulder massage and giving Michael's office interlopers a head shake dripping with disapproval. “Haven't you all bothered him enough?” he asked.

“Yes, please, leave me alone. I have important work to do. Pam, hold all my calls for me.”

“Even if it's Jan?”

“Let Jan through. Unless it's work related.”

Michael sat with his head lowered, trying to make it very clear that he was not interested in any more conversation. He risked a glance up as he heard the door opening; Toby and Phyllis were out the door, but just before Pam left, she looked back and gave him a quick glance. Although she didn't say anything, her silent look was worse than anything Michael's employees had said to him all day. It was like she was condemning him.

Condemning him for a crime he didn't commit.

Sort of.

.....

“So how are things hanging with Gil?” asked Kevin.

“Yes, how are things with him?”

Oscar shot back an amused look at Angela as he led his two fellow accountants on the way to the kitchen. “You don't have to pretend you're also interested in my relationship with Gil just to humor me, Angela.”

“Okay, good, that was awkward. But don't mind me, you two can talk about men all you want.”

Kevin tittered at Angela's comment, and Oscar rolled his eyes as they entered the kitchen. Kevin's question had come out of left field, but Oscar had a good idea that his friend was asking because he had come into the office in a bit of a foul mood that morning. And it was, in fact, because of a little fight with Gil last night. Kevin could be surprisingly perceptive sometimes, although the 'sometimes' got a special emphasis in Oscar's mind.

Despite his constant childishness about Oscar's orientation, Kevin was his friend, and he was touched to know he was concerned. Even the way Angela feebly seconded Kevin's question was touching in its own way; Oscar knew she was making an effort, and she would sometimes throw out little attempts to show she was tolerant ever since Oscar had returned from his vacation. Angela was not the kind of person he would have ever chosen to know outside of work, but it was strange how you could grow to have a certain unspoken affection with someone if you were forced to be around them long enough.

“My relationship with Gil,” said Oscar, thinking about how to answer Kevin's question. “It's, uh, going.”

“Going?”

“I don't know,” said Oscar as he opened the refrigerator. “He can be difficult sometimes, but he can be great sometimes too. It's complicated.”

Oscar had to admit that he wasn't really interested in talking about Gil during his lunch break. His relationship definitely had its ups and downs, but sometimes Gil could really get on his nerves, last night being a prime example. He could barely even remember what they had been arguing about; something trivial, probably, but Gil could be insufferably opinionated about things. Oscar would go so far as to say he was pretentious. His boyfriend had some good qualities – a biting sense of humor, intelligence, affection when he was in a good mood – but his holier-than-thou attitude got old.

Oscar never did have a lot of patience for pretentious people. Hard to relate to them, maybe. They were so different from him.

“Are those tiny burritos?” laughed Kevin.

Oscar unfolded his lunch from its plastic wrapping, leftovers from the previous night's dinner. “They're called flautas,” he said, a little indignantly, as he transferred them onto a folded paper towel which he placed in the kitchen microwave. “Or taquitos,” he added.

“Celebrating your heritage, huh Oscar?”

“It's not like I eat Mexican food every day, Kevin. Am I not allowed to eat Mexican food just because of my heritage? I have to avoid it now or else I'm a walking stereotype, is that it?”

Kevin gave the question some serious thought before his creased brow and pursed mouth went away, changing into a smile as he slapped his friend on the back. “Of course not, dude. You can enjoy tiny burritos whenever you want. Can I have one?”

“As soon as it's out of the microwave, sure.”

“Cool. I forgot to bring my lunch. Can I borrow a few dollars for the snack machine, too?”

Oscar sighed and fished a few bills out of his wallet as the microwave ticked down to zero. After a ding, he opened the door and laid the flautas out on two paper plates for the two of them. He would have to get a drink from the vending machine in the break room. Angela had already left for the break room, apparently too impatient to wait for Oscar to get his lunch ready. He looked down at the flautas on his plate as he and Kevin left the kitchen; he had been looking forward to eating them for lunch all day, but now that he looked at them, they definitely didn't look like they were the best food to reheat in the microwave. Oscar hated when something which was supposed to be firm and crispy ended up soggy and limp.

“Took you long enough,” said Angela as the two of them arrived at the break room.

Oscar sat down and ignored Angela's comment. Sometimes she seemed to say things just for the sake of having something to complain about. Kevin set down his plate beside them before peering intensely through the vending machine glass, trying to decide how he should spend Oscar's money.

Several other people were already in the break room: Kelly and Ryan, who seemed to be deep in some kind of conversation that came off as excited on Kelly's side and argumentative on Ryan's side; Meredith, who sat at a table with Creed, both of whom seemed to be about as vacant as they usually were; and Toby, who sat in a chair near the back, reading a book. Oscar didn't see Jim, Pam, or Karen. Pam had still been sitting at the receptionist's desk when he left the accounting area, and he was fairly sure that Jim and Karen were eating out for lunch. He had no idea where Dwight was, and didn't care either. Probably holed up with Michael in his office. As he began to eat, Oscar's thoughts turned to the big news of the day. Which was, of course, the news that Jim would be quitting.

It seemed that Oscar was not the only one thinking about Jim's decision, either.

“It's such a shame Jim is quitting,” said Kelly, her conversation with Ryan apparently having run its course. “I'm going to miss him sooo much! I mean, not as much as I'd miss you of course Ryan, not that you're quitting or anything, but I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea. I saw that look you just gave me.”

“I didn't give you a look,” said Ryan as he sipped on a soda. “And besides, Jim isn't quitting.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Oscar.

“I just don't buy it. Jim doesn't seem like someone who makes snap decisions. He eats that ham and cheese sandwich every day except when Karen drags him out to lunch. He got all whiny when Michael reorganized the office space that one time and made Jim switch with Stanley. Why would he decide to quit all of a sudden? He's put up with Michael for years.”

“He transferred to Stamford,” Oscar pointed out. “That's change.”

“That was just because he was broken-hearted over Pam,” said Kelly. Her boyfriend nodded in agreement. “He's not motivated by love this time! Only hate!”

Creed, who had been staring vacantly at the top of his table, looked up at his coworkers as he picked up on the conversation. “Wait a minute,” he said, “Jim's quitting? Let me guess, turning to farming full time?”

“That's Dwight,” said Oscar.

“Which one's Jim?”

“The one who's always playing pranks on Dwight with Pam.”

“Pranks? What? It's like you're speaking a foreign language, man!”

Creed shook his head at Oscar as if marveling at the ridiculousness of his explanation, and then returned to whatever thoughts had been absorbing his mind moments ago. Oscar blinked for a moment before returning to the conversation he had been having with the rest of his coworkers.

“So you think Jim's just venting?” he asked Ryan.

“Yup.”

Meredith stopped sipping at her cup for a moment. “All I know is I'm gonna miss looking at that boy's butt when he walks by my desk,” she said with a lecherous look.

Kelly made a gagging sound. “Gross, Meredith!”

Oscar smirked as he noticed Kelly give her boyfriend a glance to make sure he wasn't paying attention before nodding and winking at Meredith, apparently confirming her appraisal of Jim's rear end.

“What about you, Oscar?” asked Kevin, nudging Oscar on the arm.

“What about me?”

“You gonna miss Jim's butt?”

Kevin burst into a loud snigger, trying and failing to muffle it with his hands, and even Angela couldn't stop herself from smiling briefly before pulling herself back into her usual frosty demeanor. Oscar sighed and took another bite of his unsatisfying flauta; he would not dignify Kevin's comment with a response.

Not that Meredith and Kelly were wrong. Jim did have a nice butt, even if Oscar wasn't going to say that out loud. There was no doubt that Jim was good looking, and Oscar couldn't help but notice that from time to time, but the age difference was too much. Not to mention that their personalities wouldn't mesh; Jim was a joker, and while Oscar had a sense of humor, he thought Jim could be on the immature side sometimes. Not all that serious about his job, either. And he still lived in an apartment with a roommate, so he didn't seem to be settled down in his life yet.

Oscar definitely wouldn't be Jim's type, even if he was a decade or two younger, but it was obvious who was Jim's type. Pam Beesly. He wasn't aware of all the details about what had happened between Jim and Pam to cause his transfer to Stamford and the subsequent cancellation of her marriage to Roy, but something had obviously happened. Ryan had a point about Jim, after all. He didn't seem like an impulsive person, and his transfer to Stamford was strange enough to make it clear that there were problems in the world of Jim and Pam.

Sometimes, Oscar couldn't help but feel exasperated when he watched the two of them dancing around each other like there was nothing there. It was clear to him, and he knew it was clear to others in the office. He wished he could be so lucky as to find someone who was a great fit for him, but being a gay accountant in Scranton didn't do his romantic life any favors. Oscar had no idea if there even was a gay scene in Scranton. Not that he had the type of personality to be into the gay scene in the first place.

He remembered once, before Gil, he had been in a lonely and restless mood and visited a bar called the Log Cabin he had seen in downtown Scranton before, only to find out he was reading into the name way too much. It was just a regular bar. Pretty good margaritas, though. That was about as adventurous as Oscar got in terms of romance – he had met Gil by chance in a coffee shop when Gil had approached him on a whim, apparently taking a gamble after seeing Oscar reading an opera review in a magazine. As if enjoying opera made you gay, thought Oscar with a snort.

His relationship with Gil came after a long stretch of single life, and Oscar knew it wouldn't last forever. Gil was fine. He liked Gil. But he definitely didn't love him. Based on what he had seen between Jim and Pam, the way they hovered around each other in the office like orbiting planets about to be smashed together by the force of their gravity, Oscar couldn't figure know why they hadn't sealed the deal yet. They seemed to be extending their orbits now, ever since Stamford merged with Scranton. Jim with Karen, Pam with Roy. Again.

Somebody really needed to smack their heads together and wake them up.

.....

.....
Male Models
.....

A brush stroke here, a brush stroke there. A dab of lighter coloring to even out the tone on the arm. Pam began to slow down as her painting took on a look of finality. Not bad, she thought.

The class was drawing to a close, and her fellow students were also finishing up their work. She added extra touches to the canvas in between glances at the model laying on a table in the center of the art room, dabbing her brush occasionally on the color palette set up beside her. She was excited to be using oil paints with an actual palette and drawing on a canvas; somehow it seemed like the stamp of a real artist. Like she was in the big leagues. But maybe she was just buying into certain stereotypes.

Pam took a long look at the model laying a few yards away from her on a table covered in white tablecloth in the middle of the room. Something about the tablecloth amused her. It made him look almost like a piece of meat, waiting to be served. The model was nude, and Pam knew it was a perfectly normal part of learning to draw the human figure in an art class, but it had taken her a little while to get used to looking at a naked man and drawing on a canvas. This was the first time her class had been painting with a nude model as their reference, although they had a clothed one once in a previous class. She wondered if her classmates found the experience a little unusual, too. Hopefully she wasn't a prude; Pam wanted to think that she was just a little unused to the experience. She hadn't taken an art class since high school, after all.

It was a Saturday – the first weekend after Jim had announced his intention to quit – and Pam was enjoying a leisurely weekend class. She and her fellow students sat on stools in front of their easels, which were arranged in a rough semicircle around their model. The table on which the model was laying sat close to the wall, not far from the art room's door; it was a small room to use for doing drawings from live models. Pam's art teacher walked from easel to easel and inspected her students' works, which were almost finished. “Very good,” she said occasionally. Sometimes she would point something out on the easel and hold a brief whispered conversation with the artist. It wasn't long before she reached Pam's painting.

“Nice job, Pam. You're definitely improving. Great work on the facial features.”

“Thanks!”

The compliment was brief, but Pam felt a beaming smile cross her face after hearing it. She definitely loved hearing praise from her art teacher, particularly because she had been feeling self-conscious about her work lately. Gil's comments at the art show had stung, and they were hard to shake. Motel art. That was what he had called her drawings. Pam thought it was a rude thing to say, but even worse than that, she had spent a lot of time wondering if it was true. The art show had happened the Thursday before last, but it still hung on her memory, especially considering what she was doing. She hadn't drawn anything for a few days after the show, but then she had forced herself to do a little bit every day, especially the human figure, in anticipation of today's class.

It wasn't just Oscar's boyfriend, either - the whole art show that had shaken her confidence. She had seen some work by her fellow students before, but the art show was held to display their work to the public, and Pam saw much of their best work at the show. Some of it was intimidating. So intimidating that she wondered if she could ever develop the kind of talent they had. She was not the oldest student in the class, but she wasn't the youngest, either, and even some of the younger ones put her skills to shame. Pam knew it wasn't a good idea to measure herself against others, but she found it hard to avoid.

“Alright,” said the art teacher, “I think you guys have worked hard enough today, and it looks like Will is about to go crazy holding that pose, so how about everybody wraps up and we call it a day?”

The art students murmured in agreement. Some continued to add touches to their paintings, while others began to put their supplies away, moving easels to the back of the room and cleaning brushes. Will laughed at the art teacher's comment about his pose and sat up on the table, shaking out his arm, which had been propping up his head. Pam couldn't help giving him a glance as he got off the table and grabbed his clothing in a corner cubby hole. She laughed a little when she imagined Roy posing like that. He probably wouldn't agree to it in a million years, and even if he did, Pam doubted he would take it seriously. Making stupid faces or lewd comments, or complaining about wanting to get up and stretch, probably.

Like a dog straining against its leash, Pam was caught off guard as her mind jerked from Roy to Jim Halpert, as if out of her control. Now, Jim, she thought - Jim would probably be a very good model, if-

Pam coughed, dispelling the image and returning her attention to her cleanup. It did not take long, and she spent another few moments looking at her painting before putting it away, wondering how she could improve it. Just when she had finished storing it, she turned around and jumped in fright, running smack into her mother.

“Mom!”

“Surprise!”

Pam laughed and slapped her mother on the arm. “I can't believe you just did that!”

“Sorry, your teacher let me in and I thought I'd surprise you a little early. Ready to go to lunch?”

“Definitely.”

Pam finished putting her things away and followed her mother out of the room. She noticed her mother giving the model a glance, who hadn't bothered putting a shirt on yet. Helene turned back to her daughter with a suggestively raised eyebrow. Pam rolled her eyes as the two of them left the community center where she took her classes and walked out into the parking lot. “Care to explain what that was?” asked Helene.

“That was our model for today. Will.”

“You even know his name, Pam. Scandalous. Was he naked?”

“Yes, but that's what models do in art classes, mom. Grow up!”

Pam knew Helene was joking, and her retort wasn't serious. She had been looking forward all week to seeing her mom on the weekend. The two of them were planning to go out for lunch, catch up a little as they took a walk around Scranton – it was an unusually warm day – and maybe even catch a movie later. Helene was about to lead her daughter in the direction of her car when Pam shook her head.

“We're taking my car.”

“Oh, mine can't compare to your new car, is that it?”

“That's right.”

Pam led her mother to her car, which was parked on the far end of the lot, adjacent to a curb and a small divider decorated with a pine tree and a few small bushes. Parking still made Pam nervous, even though she had owned the car for months already; anytime she had to go out and leave the car unattended, she imagined someone running into it or dinging it with their door, so she always parked in less busy parts of the lot.

“I still can't believe you bought this thing without asking me for advice.”

“You weren't angry, were you?”

“Of course not,” laughed Helene. “I was just surprised.”

“I guess I sort of wanted to do the research and figure it all out myself, you know? Make the decision all on my own.”

Helene nodded as her daughter started the car and left the parking lot, taking them on their way to lunch. She understood her daughter's thinking; Pam wanted to be more independent after the engagement ended and she got her own apartment. Buying a car on her own was one way of spreading her wings a little. The art classes were another. Helene was glad that her daughter seemed to be gaining in confidence; Pam had always been an indecisive, introverted girl. The sudden changes in her life popping up after her breakup with Roy were unusual. Of course, based on a few things Pam had been telling her, Helene reminded herself that maybe her daughter's breakup with Roy was not as permanent as she had first expected.

The two of them chatted about nothing in particular as they drove through downtown Scranton: weather, books, movies, how Pam had been settling into her new apartment. They pulled into the small parking lot outside of Alfredo's Pizza Cafe and got a seat inside near a window.

“How are things going with dad?” asked Pam.

Helene smiled, hoping it didn't look forced. She knew that Pam was aware of some of the friction that had been going on in her marriage, but she didn't really feel like getting into it. She was in too good a mood, as she hadn't gotten to visit her daughter in a little while. “It's going fine,” she said. “But I'm more interested in how things are going with Roy.”

“Very good,” said Pam. “I think we're starting to patch things up, and I've been spending more time with him lately. It's still a little weird I guess, after everything that happened. He did go to my art show, though!”

“That's good. How did that go?”

Pam shrugged halfheartedly.

“It was a little nerve-wracking, I guess.”

“Well, putting out your work in public for the first time must be a little intimidating. And it's not like you're a social butterfly, Pam,” she said with a smile.

“I guess not. You know what was worse – I invited a lot of people from the office, and nobody came except Michael.”

Pam wondered if she came off like she was complaining. She supposed she was, but complaining to one's mother seemed more acceptable than complaining to other people. She reminded herself that Oscar had come to the art show, but she decided not to share that with her mom, not wanting to get into what she had overheard.

“Jim didn't come?” asked Helene.

“No. I guess he was busy that night. I did ask him.”

“That's too bad.”

As the waiter arrived and took their orders, Helene thought about how tumultuous her daughter's romantic life had gotten recently. Pam had been going out with Roy ever since high school, and while Helene never thought Roy seemed like the most interesting person – or the best match for her daughter, really – he had always been friendly and polite, at least. It seemed like Pam really liked him for a while, but Helene had gotten the impression for a year or two that things between them had been stagnating.

Which was why she was surprised to hear that her daughter was now trying to make things work with Roy again. After that one phone call she had gotten from Pam, she had been expecting her to get together with that coworker of hers, Jim, but Helen couldn't tell what was going through her daughter's mind lately. Pam was just as friendly as she had always been with her mother, but compared with the past, she seemed to be more closely guarded with some of her feelings.

“Actually, Jim's quitting in about a week,” said Pam.

Helene took a sip of her water as she looked her daughter. Although they had been talking about Jim, the comment seemed kind of abrupt. Almost like Pam was passing it off as an afterthought.

“Really?” she asked. “He's leaving Dunder Mifflin?”

“Yep. Michael did something that really pissed him off.”

Helene was not surprised. She had met Michael for maybe a few minutes in total, but it was enough to confirm that Pam's stories were not exaggerations.

“How do you feel about Jim quitting?”

“Well, I'm going to miss him, of course.”

“Is he still with Karen?”

Pam gave her mother a questioning, almost suspicious look that only lasted an instant – Helene would have missed if it she had glanced away.

“Yes, he is.”

The conversation slowed, and before long, their food arrived. Helene watched her daughter thoughtfully as she poked at her chicken salad. She sometimes wondered if she was in a position to tell her daughter much about love. Her own marriage was not what she had imagined it would turn out to be when she first met her husband. She knew she had been naïve. She had jumped into things. Pam normally was the opposite. Not the type to jump into things, considering how long her engagement to Roy had lasted. And yet Helene wondered if her daughter was jumping back into things after her separation from Roy.

She didn't want to tell her daughter what to do, and she wanted to trust that her daughter's decisions would make her happy in the long run, but it was hard to hold back when Pam was so quiet about parts of her life lately. Helene had talked to Pam about her confused feelings towards Jim during that phone call she made after Jim told her how he felt, but that had been the last time in a while that her daughter seemed so open, other than brief comments about making things work again with Roy. Helene wasn't sure this was really what Pam wanted, but she didn't want to cross a line by saying so. She had made a few criticisms of Roy in the past – nothing major – and her daughter had always gotten defensive about it.

“So he's gone in a week?” she asked Pam.

“Yeah. Unless he changes his mind, but I don't think he will. I didn't talk to him much this last week but he acted like he was pretty sure about it.”

Helene nodded as she ate her own chicken salad, which she had ordered with her daughter.

“Well,” she said, “just in case you don't see him much after that, I guess you'll have to make next week count. Figure out what's important to you and make sure he knows how important he is to you. Tell me whatever you need to tell him. You don't want to have any regrets when he's gone, after all.”

Pam put her fork down and stared blankly at her mother for a few moments. Helene wondered if she had been too obvious. But then, maybe she wasn't being obvious enough. It seemed clear to her that Pam liked Jim. Even more than she liked Roy. As Pam's blank look subsided and she returned to her meal, Helene got the feeling she had given her daughter something to think about, at least.

.....

“And here is where Mose likes to dig through the dirt and bury his whittling pieces when he makes too many.”

Angela stared at the spot where Dwight was pointing. They stood at the edge of his fields, near a wooden fence that separated Dwight's property from a road. Angela thought she could make out some scratch marks in the soil, although it was hard to tell; Dwight was probably an expert, but most soil looked the same to her.

“Why does he bury them here?”

Dwight chuckled and wrapped his arm around Angela. “There's an old Schrute family tradition, passed down from generation to generation, that says burying dolls and talismans will satisfy the spirits of the earth and give you a good harvest. It's like a little sacrifice to show the earth how much you depend on it and respect it. Although Mose just buries them because he likes to dig things up, I suppose,” added Dwight as he stared thoughtfully at the ground. “I don't know when that tradition started. Probably one of the family's old pagan traditions.”

Angela frowned. Sometimes Dwight talked about things that made her feel nervous. Things that clashed with her good Christian upbringing. But she couldn't help liking him anyway. She tried to interpret Dwight's story in a more positive way; maybe his family had just been mistaken. “It could be Jesus that's making your crops grow better,” she suggested, “and burying those dolls was your family's way of praying to him. Don't you think that's a possibility, Dwight?”

“No, that's ridic-”

Dwight noticed Angela looking up at him with a concerned droop in the corners of her mouth.

“Yes, Angela. I think that's exactly how it works.”

The two of them stared at the ground for a few more moments before Dwight led Angela slowly over the beet fields, pointing here and there as he talked about his beloved crop. Angela felt herself shiver a little as they walked together; it was a nice day for February, but the temperature was dropping as the evening deepened. The sun was almost down, and soon they would have to return to the farmhouse, but Angela didn't mind listening to Dwight's rambling about beets. She didn't care much about beets herself, at least she didn't when she first began to date Dwight, but she found her interest in them increasingly piqued thanks to the way Dwight talked about them. More than the beets themselves, though, Angela just liked the way Dwight talked about them. He was so passionate, so authoritative. Master of his beet domain.

“Come April or May, depending on the weather, you'll see rows and rows of delicious beet leaves starting to poke up from these furrows,” said Dwight. “Let me tell you - it's hard to beet a sight like that, Angela!”

Dwight raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, who stared blankly at him.

“Angela, did you catch that? Hard to beet?”

Angela scrunched her face together in confusion before realizing what he was getting at.

“Oh. That was very amusing, Dwight.”

“Maybe a good military parade is more impressive,” continued Dwight, nearly talking over Angela's acknowledgment of his pun. “Or a good sword fight, depending on the type of sword. Asian swords are best. But seeing that beet harvest come in definitely has to be in the top five sights to see.”

“Dwight, it's getting a little bit chilly and I don't have a jacket – could we go in?”

“Of course, my little sugar beet.”

Angela wasn't sure if she approved of the nickname, but she supposed it was endearing in its own way. She followed Dwight into the farmhouse and through the kitchen. They had already eaten dinner, but Mose was still sitting at the table and gnawing at a chicken bone; he nodded to Angela, who nodded back curtly as Dwight led the two of them upstairs. They were about to go to Dwight's room when Mose suddenly bounded up the stairs behind them and ran up, almost wedging himself between Dwight and Angela in his excitement to reach them. Angela recoiled, thinking Mose was attacking her for a brief moment.

“Dwight, I want to go to sleep. Could you tuck me in and read me a story?”

“We have a guest tonight, Mose. I can't read you a story, but I'll tuck you in.”

Dwight led Mose to his room while Angela waited patiently by the door to Dwight's bedroom. She heard the two of them talking inside the room for a few moments, and thought she overheard Mose asking for a glass of milk, which Dwight turned down since Mose had just eaten dinner. Angela had mixed feelings towards Dwight's cousin. At his best, he could be sort of cute; but at his worst, which was quite often, he seriously unsettled her. But she knew Dwight was fond of his cousin, and so she made an effort to tolerate him and engage him in conversation. Which wasn't hard with Mose. If he was in the mood to talk to her at all, usually he just wanted to show her something or have her watch while he ran around outside.

After a few minutes, Dwight quietly shut the door to Mose's room and returned to his own while Angela waited. Opening the door, Dwight stepped aside and let Angela go in first before closing the door and locking it. Sometimes Mose would barge in if it wasn't locked. Especially if he was in the throes of a night terror.

“How is, uh – that cat of yours, how is she doing?”

Angela smiled at Dwight's considerate question. “Sprinkles,” she said as she changed into a nightgown kept in Dwight's closet for when she visited. “And she's doing very well, thank you for asking.”

Angela finished changing and slipped into Dwight's bed. Going to Dwight's beet farm and sleeping over on Saturdays was one of the most pleasant ways she could think of spending the weekend. And tonight, she was feeling a little bit rambunctious. Maybe it was the way Dwight was talking so intensely about beet harvesting earlier. Dwight joined her in bed, and she scooted a little closer towards him under the covers. The farmhouse was silent, save for the occasional shuffling echoing from down the hall – Mose was probably circling in his room, still too excited to sleep. Sometimes the silence could be a little eerie, but tonight, Angela thought it was romantic. She snaked a hand around Dwight's stomach, but he did not react. He seemed to be staring up at the ceiling.

“What is it, Dwight?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about Jim Halpert. What a quitter.”

Angela felt a little frustrated that her advances were being completely ignored, apparently because her boyfriend was thinking about another man. It wasn't exactly what she was hoping to hear. She withdrew her arm and propped herself up on her side as she looked at Dwight.

“I think his devil-may-care attitude has finally caught up to him and got him in trouble,” she remarked. “Apparently the devil did care.” She smirked at her cleverness.

“Wait,” said Dwight, “you're saying that Michael and I were doing the devil's work when we blamed him for making all of us late to that client meeting?”

Angela struggle for a response as her attempt at judgment turned around on her.

“No – no, that's not it. You two did the right thing.”

Dwight turned to face Angela.

“Really?”

His question seemed unusually hopeful. Angela wanted to reassure him he did do the right thing, but as she thought about it, her thoughts became increasingly muddled. She loved Dwight's masculine authority, his respect for power, and she thought he would do well as manager of the office, which was why she had encouraged him to take Michael's position in the past. Of course, that had backfired. Jim was a threat to Dwight, the way he didn't respect him, the way he was always playing pranks, and she understood Dwight's dislike towards him.

But from the way Dwight had just sounded, Angela wondered if he was having second thoughts. As little regard as she held for Jim, it was true that Jim hadn't done anything wrong. Michael was at fault, as usual. Dwight needed to be strong and do whatever it took to gain power. But on the other hand, the Bible did say 'thou shalt not lie.'

“Even if you didn't do the right thing,” Angela finally said as Dwight waited for her to go on, “you did what Michael told you to do. He needed an excuse and you had to back him up as Assistant Regional Manager. That's how authority works. So, in that sense, you did the right thing.”

Dwight nodded and sat back again, returning his vacant gaze to the ceiling. Angela wasn't sure if he seemed satisfied with her response, but she was no longer sure what she thought about it herself. Either way, she didn't really want to think about it at all. It was Saturday. She was at Schrute Farms. This was not the time for moral quandaries. It was the time for self-indulgence. Self-indulgence within the limits of morality and restraint, of course.

Angela snaked her arm over Dwight again. And this time, she grabbed his full attention.

.....

Cigarette smoke lingered in the air, mixed with the raucous laughter of Roy, Kenny, and Darryl. Playing cards lay scattered across the foldout kitchen table where they were playing, and Pam sat, a little bored, as she accepted another hand of cards from Darryl, who was dealing them out after shuffling them. Roy had invited her to come over, although Pam hadn't realized that his plans for the night consisted of drinking and playing card games with guests.

“So I told her, you know what Denise, I always thought you were a pain in the ass anyway!”

Kenny laughed and let out a belch before grabbing another handful of party mix from a bowl in the center of the table. Roy and Darryl both laughed with him, although Pam thought she caught Darryl giving her a quick shrug of sympathy. Pam was not very fond of Roy's brother. Maybe Darryl shared her opinion.

“She never treated you right,” said Roy. “I always told you that.”

“You never said that.”

“Well, I was thinking it. For real!”

“I'm not gonna let her get me down anyway,” said Kenny. “If she doesn't want to get back together with me, she's not worth it. There's a lot of other fish in the sea willing to take a nibble on Kenny, let me tell you!”

Pam barely restrained herself from letting out a loud whoop of laughter. She wondered who these fish were, and why Kenny was spending his time hanging out at his brother's house on a Saturday night instead of going after them. Roy gave his brother a supportive pat on the back, and Pam couldn't help but wonder what Jim would have done after hearing Kenny's comment. She knew he'd have something funny to say. Maybe not to Kenny himself, but he definitely would have said something funny to her about it later.

Pam sometimes worried that she was being too judgmental when she picked up on some of the ridiculous things other people said, but Jim had a way of noticing those same moments, reassuring her that it wasn't just in her head. Then again, working with Michael and Dwight, it was fairly easy to share a laugh at other people's stupid comments.

“So Pam, how's your mom doing?” asked Darryl.

“Oh right,” said Roy, “you were hanging out with her all afternoon, right? How is she?”

“She's doing alright. We ate lunch and watched a movie, shopped a little.”

“What movie?”

“The Lives of Others.”

Darryl nodded. “I dug that one,” he said. “That little German dude brought a tear to my eye.”

Roy shook his head. “I dunno man, I saw a preview for that and it looked really boring.”

“I was at my art class today too.”

“Oh yeah? How was that?”

Pam thought about just how much detail she would give Roy. She got the feeling that he might get a little childish about the nude male model, or at least say something embarrassing since he had been drinking a little, so she decided to leave that detail out. “We were painting with oil paint,” she said. “It was a lot of fun since I haven't had a lot of practice with oil painting – I do watercolors more often. It's a very different experience. It's like, with the oil painting, since it takes so long to dry, you can sort of blend it with the other colors in different ways and move the paint around on a canvas in a way you can't do with the watercolors.”

Roy nodded as he listened to her. As Pam stopped talking, he didn't seem to have anything to say in reply, and turned to Darryl instead. “Hey,” he said, “you remember what Lonnie said when we were packing on Friday?”

Darryl paused for a moment, on the verge of placing a card on the table, before remembering what Roy was talking about. “Oh yeah!” he said. “Man, that was great. Hah!”

“It ain't if it's paint!” they said in unison before bursting into laughter.

Pam did not understand their inside joke. Obviously her paint talk had set it off, but she didn't get the impression it had anything to do with what she had been talking about.

“Speakin' of work,” said Darryl, “you know what I heard on Friday?”

“What's that?”

“I heard Jim Halpert's quitting his job. Did you know about that, Pam?”

“Yup.”

“Michael did something bad, I figure?”

Pam nodded, amused that it was Darryl's first guess.

“That's too bad. I heard it from Kelly, that girl never shuts up about anything. I figure I'll have to go up there and say bye to him before he leaves in a week or so. Maybe get him a drink or somethin'.”

“Yeah, that's too bad,” said Roy. “Halpert's a good guy.”

Pam nodded quietly. For some reason, she found herself hoping that conversation would shift to a different subject, which it did. The four of them continued playing cards as Roy, Darryl, and Kenny talked about women, vacation plans, and work troubles. Pam found herself getting bored even though she hadn't been there for more than about half an hour. It still felt strange to come to Roy's apartment in order to see him when it had been their apartment until recently. This was no longer really her home, and yet her new apartment didn't feel like home either. She supposed her parent's house still felt like home, even though she didn't get to visit them as often as she'd like.

As Pam thought about her parents, the lunch she had shared with her mother earlier that day came to mind. One of her mom's comments during lunch had stuck with her. Tell Jim whatever you need to tell him. Something like that. The comment seemed like a poorly hidden message. It had given Pam the impression that her mother thought she wanted to be with Jim, not Roy. Pam chided herself for not being more clear about her feelings. She should made it more obvious to her mother that she was trying to make things work with Roy again. Even as she said that, however, Pam wondered if she was making anything clear, even to herself. She couldn't deny that she had certain feelings for Jim. But it just wasn't that simple. She had been with Roy for years, and Jim was with Karen-

“Hey guys,” she said abruptly, “I think I'm going to go back to my apartment and get some sleep.”

Roy looked up from their game. “Really?” he said. “It's still kind of early.”

“Yeah, but you know how energetic my mom can be.”

Roy laughed. “Yeah, it's weird how you can be so quiet when she's so bubbly all the time.”

“Right. Well, anyway, I think she wore me out a little today, and I just feel like getting some sleep.”

“Alright,” said Roy. “Thanks for coming over, anyway. Tell your mom I said hi next time you see her.”

“Sure.”

Pam made her goodbyes to Darryl, Roy, and his brother. The three of them went back to their card game as Pam left the apartment and returned to her car. Maybe she had just been talking too much that day, with the art class and the lunch out with her mother. Even though she would be alone in her new apartment, she found herself looking forward to the quiet living room, followed by an early night's sleep.

.....

.....
Lady Troubles
.....

A twist of the knob, and the water from the shower tap slowed to a trickle. Jim stepped out and grabbed a towel, drying himself off before returning to his bedroom and putting on the outfit he had laid out the day before.

It was already past noon, but Jim didn't feel lazy; it was Sunday, and his roommate Mark usually woke up even later than he did. For all the drawbacks that came with having a roommate, Jim always thought it was a plus when they made him look like a go-getter in comparison. Not to mention he was comfortable around Mark. They had been roommates for a while, and although he had to get a new apartment when he transferred to Stamford, Mark had been more than happy to ditch the horrible replacement roommate he had gotten in Jim's absence and bring him back in.

“Okay, Jim,” he told himself as he sat down by his computer, “time to put the pedal to the metal.”

He turned the computer on and loaded up his web browser, intending to do a little job hunting. It had been a week since he gave Michael and Toby his two week's notice, but he was a little embarrassed by the fact that he really hadn't done much in the way of searching. The decision to get a new job had been impulsive, but he thought it was the right one, and he was going to stick to it. To hell with people saying he was wishy-washy and passive. He tried to make himself focus as he loaded up a few job hunting sites – some local, some not so local – and perused their listings. Maybe later in the day he'd go to the store and pick up a Scranton newspaper, along with a snack refill.

“Sports, sports... sports writing, where are you...”

Jim had a nagging feeling that he was wasting his time. Online job hunting sites never seemed very useful to him, and he knew sports writing was a fairly specific job. He was keeping an open mind about pretty much anything he came across, even if sports writing was the thing that he had been fixated on for a while. Unfortunately, all the jobs seemed random and uninteresting to him. He remembered reading a magazine article that claimed the vast majority of job positions were found through a person's friends and relatives, anyway. Too bad he was a bit of a loner.

Pages of bad positions passed by the screen: low paying, far above or below his qualifications, even less interesting than selling reams of paper while working for a psychotic boss. Jim managed to exhaust himself within minutes. He closed the browser and left his computer to go downstairs. Maybe he'd try it again later. Job hunting just wasn't a morning activity, he told himself. Or an early afternoon activity, to be more accurate.

“Hey, Mark,” he said, finding his roommate sitting on the couch in the living room while he watched television. “You're up early. I mean, early for you.”

“Yeah, I dunno what happened. Not enough partying last night, I guess.”

“Right,” chuckled Jim. He remembered last night; it had been uneventful even as far as most of his Saturdays went. Mark was more of a social butterfly than he was, but he had stayed in last night. Jim had been half-expecting Karen to call him or maybe stop by for a surprise visit, but for some reason he hadn't heard from her. “So,” he asked as he stared at the television, “what are you watching?”

“No idea. Some kind of cooking show.”

Jim felt his stomach rumble at the sight of ham flung onto a scorching hot skillet. “Maybe I should go out for lunch,” he wondered.

“Good idea,” said Mark. “You could bring something back for me.”

“Hmm. I would have to get in the car and drive somewhere.”

“Yeah, but that's no big deal.”

Jim rolled his eyes at his roommate's self-interested attempts to get him to go out. He decided he wasn't into a lunch run; instead, he sat down on the couch and joined his roommate as they watched the cooking show. He'd get up and look through the refrigerator in a moment, but for now he felt like vegetating a little.

Mark glanced over at him during a commercial break. “So, you been thinking about what kind of job you're going to get?”

Jim shook his head. “Not as much as I should be,” he said.

“What's Karen think about it?”

“I guess she thinks I'm being a little impulsive. Which is weird, because she tells me I'm too lazy sometimes. Paraphrased, anyway. It's like, hey, make up your mind, Karen!”

Mark looked askance at Jim as his joking comment trailed off awkwardly..

“Maybe she just wants you to stay at your job at Dunder Mifflin. I mean, are you looking for a local job, or are you going to end up moving?”

Jim scratched his head. The cooking show was back on, but Mark seemed to be interested in Jim's job search, even though Jim had been hoping to ignore that for a while and get back to it later. Truth be told, he hadn't thought that far ahead, even though Karen had brought it up a couple of times. Sometimes he felt like if he planned too much, he'd just be giving himself openings to talk himself out of another decision. He would end up holding himself back and give up making a decision about his life. He had done it before. After all, he'd been a paper salesman for years, despite having no interest whatsoever in selling paper.

“I don't really know what we'll do,” said Jim. “I mean, I guess I understand where Karen is coming from, but she's still pretty new to Dunder Mifflin. I think she'd understand how I feel if she had to be around some of those people for another few years.”

“What, and got the full Dwight experience?” asked Mark.

“Exactly.”

Jim smiled as Mark's attention was absorbed in the cooking show again, where the chef had just caused a burst of flame to shoot out of a skillet he was flipping. Mark's attention was easily absorbed. Their conversation was over, but thanks to his roommate's questioning, Jim was back to thinking about his job situation. Not to mention his girlfriend situation. He really hadn't expected Karen to be so skeptical about his decision to quit, especially since he knew she had a much stronger distaste for Michael and Dwight than he did. She had even been ambivalent towards the idea of Jim getting another local job, even though that would make things easier for their relationship.

Sometimes the ladies were just hard to figure out, Jim decided. That had to be it.

.....

“Come on Michael! Step it up a bit!”

Michael grunted and shifted his grip on the shopping bags as he tried to keep up with Jan. Spendings hours traipsing through New York on a shopping spree was not his idea of a perfect Sunday, but Jan had called him that morning to drive out from Scranton and spend some time with her. He had expected some sweet lovemaking – and, to be sure, there had been a little of that going on when he arrived at Jan's apartment, although she seemed to be getting a little bit scarier in bed. But Michael didn't want to dwell on that too much. It was sex, after all. Just having it was a good thing. At least that was the impression he had gotten from everything he read and saw on television.

After their somewhat unsettling romp in the sack, Michael was now discovering that Jan had called him over to spend time with her mainly to act as her shopping bag carrier and drive her around to various stores. He was starting to feel a bit like a chauffeur. But then, it was a small price to pay for the love of a woman like Jan. The two of them walked outside through an outdoor shopping complex as Jan inspected the storefront windows.

“Oooh, look at that!” said Jan. “Candles!”

Jan stopped abruptly in front of a store that looked like it was devoted mainly to candles, although a few other knick-knacks were displayed here and there in the displays behind the front windows. Michael followed her inside. The store was packed wall-to-wall with candles of various colors, shapes, and sizes. He didn't know why people needed so many different kinds of candles when everybody used electricity anyway. Even when there was a power outage you just used a flashlight. He had noticed a lot of candles in Jan's apartment, though.

“Why do you like these so much?” he asked.

“They smell good. Lighting up a bunch of candles and taking a bubble bath is a great way to relax – you should try it sometime, Michael. I've even been thinking about making my own candle company some day, when I have the time.”

“Really? Do candles sell?”

“We're in a candle store.”

“Oh, right.”

Jan began to peruse the shelves, and Michael had just set the shopping bags down to rest his arms when his girlfriend shoved a large purple candle in his face. “Smell it!” she commanded.

Michael took a sniff. Grapes. Or maybe lavender. Smelling candles seemed even more pointless than actually buying them in the first place, as far as he was concerned. Jan replaced the purple candle, grabbing others from time to time and forcing Michael to smell them as they moved through the store. Although it had taken him a moment to take in his candle-laden surroundings, candles had been the last thing on Michael's mind lately.

“Jan,” he said, “what do you think I should do about Jim quitting?”

Jan gave Michael a look of surprise in mid-sniff before returning a lime green candle to its place on the shelf.

“Jim's quitting? Why?”

“I blamed him for making me late to the client meeting with John Schneider and losing him as a customer when I was talking to David Wallace about it. Jim thinks it was like, I don't know – wrong or something.”

“Why did you blame Jim?”

“You told me to!”

“What? I don't remember telling you to do any such thing.”

Michael was forced to reconsider his accusation; he realized he couldn't remember exactly what Jan had said to him over the phone that day. “Well, you told me not to let David know about our relationship,” he said. “And I couldn't blame myself.”

“Why not? It was technically your fault.”

“It was your fault, Jan! You told me to come over to my condo so we could have sex!”

Michael's voice became shrill and indignant, rising an octave or two as he finished his sentence. Several nearby customers looked over at the two of them. Jan noticed the glances and shushed Michael angrily, leading him to a more secluded corner of the store.

“You didn't have to come to your condo,” said Jan, “and don't pretend you didn't enjoy it! Okay, so maybe I wasn't listening to you when you said you had to meet a client, but I was just in the mood. Sue me!”

“You could just tell David it was your fault.”

“And get myself in trouble? Look, Michael, I'm already on thin ice with David. He's got this grudge against me for some reason. Showing up late and smoking on the job, stupid nitpicky things like that. Maybe you should have blamed Dwight if you didn't want to get in trouble.”

“Jim would have told David what really happened. I needed Dwight to back me up.”

Jan shook her head. Michael could be surprisingly cunning when he was backed into a corner. His accusations had put her on the defensive, and Jan had to admit that she had been at least partially responsible for getting Michael into this situation.

A pang of guilt shot through her as she thought about Jim quitting thanks to being used as Michael's scapegoat. She wouldn't have minded Dwight quitting, as he was incredibly creepy, but she had nothing against Jim. And he was a good salesman, to boot. She briefly considered telling David what had actually happened – or maybe there was some way to get Michael off the hook without revealing her own indiscretions – but she couldn't think of anything, and quite frankly, she didn't want to risk getting in any trouble. Sometimes you had to be a little vicious in order to look for yourself. If Jim wanted to quit, that was his choice to make. Maybe she'd suggest that he apply for a position in Utica. Their lackluster regional manager was going to be fired soon anyway.

“Look,” she told Micheal as she chose a few favorites candles and motioned for him to follow her to the registers, “whatever you do, just make sure you don't tell David what actually happened, otherwise we might both be out of a job. Got it?”

Michael nodded faintly. “I got it,” he mumbled.

Jan finished paying for the candles, giving the cashier a cursory smile as the credit card went through. Michael collected the bag and added it to the rest of the collection he was already carrying around as he left the store with Jan, who began looking around for her next target like a bloodhound sniffing after its prey. As he followed behind her, Michael was left thinking about the situation he had gotten himself into with Jim – or, at least, the situation that Jan had pushed him into.

He felt guilty about Jim's decision to quit, and he knew it wasn't Jim's fault. Over the last week he had been thinking about what the office would be like if Jim was gone. Not only was Jim a good salesman, but he was Michael's best friend. Other than maybe Todd Packer. But Todd was usually on the road, drunk, missing, or some combination of the three. Michael got to see Jim every day at work. He got to trade jokes with him, share the occasional relationship advice like he did that time when Jim told him about his crush on Pam. They were confidantes. They shared secrets. Not to mention that if Jim was gone, Pam would be a lot less interesting; for some reason, she seemed to get more talkative as her proximity to him increased.

Michael wasn't sure what he was expecting from Jan by talking to her about his predicament. He liked his girlfriend, but she did seem a little self-interested sometimes. A little too corporate, maybe. Michael was always a maverick, and it was hard to understand Jan's self-interest. As a regional manager, Michael had to think about his family – his work family.

Even in terms of their relationship, she acted a little cold and distant sometimes. He wanted them to be more public, but Jan seemed to want to keep their relationship under wraps. She told him that she had talked about it with her therapist, but she was still hesitant. Jan gave a lot of reasons: disclosure forms they would need to sign, work complications, whatever that meant. Emotional readiness. Michael usually got confused when she talked about that kind of stuff.

Maybe Jan wasn't the best person to ask. Maybe he just needed to ask himself. He had about a week before Jim left, and an apology didn't seem like it was enough to his friend. If he wanted Jim to stay on the Dunder Mifflin team, he'd have to do more. Michael had been thinking about it all weekend, and something about his unsatisfying conversation with Jan had pushed him even further towards the conclusion brewing in his mind. He would definitely have to do something, and fast. Michael Scott would make things right.

.....

The sun was already down, and Karen stood in front of Jim's apartment door as she gathered her jacket around herself. She was hesitant to knock, even though her boyfriend was expecting her. She hadn't seem Jim yet that weekend, but she had been thinking about him. Thinking about the two of them. She wasn't really looking forward to the rest of the evening. Nor was she looking forward to work the next day. But she still had to do what needed to be done. She took a few more moments to gather her resolve, standing in the chilly air, before she finally reached out and knocked sharply on the door. Jim answered.

“Hey!”

“Hey Jim!”

“Come on in. Glad you called, I haven't seen you at all this weekend.”

“I know,” said Karen as she followed him in. Jim led her into the living room, where the television was already on; Karen was not surprised, as Jim often seemed to enjoy staying in and watching television more than going out. She looked around for Mark, but did not see him.

“Is your roommate here?”

“No, he's out for the evening. Wanna watch some TV? I could order a pizza or something.”

Karen hesitated before deciding it was best to get right to the point.

“I actually called you because I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah?”

Karen nodded and sat down on the couch. Jim, apparently catching a tone in her voice that was more serious than usual, sat down beside her and waited for her to elaborate.

“Jim, I think we need to break up.”

There. She said it.

The words settled like a dead weight in the room, and while Karen could not gauge Jim's reaction, she felt a sense of relief almost as soon as she had said it. It was the product of a lot of thinking, a lot of worrying and beating herself up over the last week – and particularly the last couple of days – but she knew it was the right decision.

“Why?” Jim finally asked.

“Because we're not going to work out, Jim.”

“Why not?”

Karen couldn't help but smile at the naïve sound of her boyfriend's question. And yet she got the feeling that he didn't really disagree with her, even if he might try to convince himself he did. She had also been unwilling to accept her conclusion at first, but now that she had, it seemed obvious. So obvious that she mentally kicked herself for not coming to it much sooner.

“Look, I know you like me, but you love someone else.”

Jim sputtered for a moment. “What? Who would-”

“Come on, we both know who I'm talking about. You told me you still had feelings for her, and I should have just listened to you, but instead I thought there was some way I could talk you out of it. I thought I could just change your mind if I said the right things, but there wasn't anything I could say. I was trying to hold onto something that was doomed from the beginning.”

Jim rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Karen was trying not to make everything an awkward mess, but he was obviously uncomfortable. Not that she wasn't. She was trying to rip off the bandaid as quickly as possible.

“Karen,” said Jim, “I know I said I had feelings for Pam, but I seriously thought things were working out for us. I mean, why are you deciding just now that you want to break up with me?”

“It's this whole quitting thing. The way you came to the conclusion all of a sudden that you needed to leave Dunder Mifflin, even though you've worked here for years and put up with Michael and Dwight's crap until now. I know what Michael did was wrong, but I kept feeling like quitting so abruptly was a little weird considering the kinds of stories you've already told me about Michael that didn't make you quit in the past. And you could fight this instead, but it doesn't seem like you've done much of that.”

“It's kind of hard,” said Jim, feeling defensive. “It's Michael and Dwight's word against mine.”

Karen felt train of thought going off the rails for a moment. Jim had a point, and in the end it just came down to David Wallace believing him over Michael and Dwight, but it still seemed like Jim could press the issue somehow. She wondered if it was just the fact that it felt so wrong to give in, to let Michael walk on him. Despite the complicated situation, she couldn't shake the feeling that Jim's passive nature was getting the better of him. But even more than that, Karen felt like he was using the whole incident as an excuse to quit, because there was a bigger issue behind all of it.

“From what I've seen,” she said, “you haven't made any real attempt to think about a new job, or anything. About what you want to do instead. It's almost like you're quitting to make some kind of point. So I kept asking myself, what's making Jim quit all of a sudden? If he's making a point, Michael's not going to get it, because he doesn't get anything. So what's his motivation? Is it really just because he doesn't want to deal with Michael anymore?”

“I'm right here,” said Jim with a grin. “You don't have to talk about me in the third person.”

“Listen to me, Jim. I'm being serious here.”

Karen knew her boyfriend could get a little cheeky when he wanted to defuse awkward situations. Sometimes it was cute, but she didn't want to be interrupted at the moment.

“Sorry,” said Jim, falling silent.

“Anyway, I figured it out. It's the same reason you quit the Scranton branch in the first place and got yourself transferred to Stamford. You wanted to be away from Pam that time, and you're doing the same thing now. She looks like she's getting back together with Roy, and you don't want to go through that whole thing over again. And you didn't know how to deal with me because you're so avoidant, so you just decide to quit and expect things between us to work out somehow.”

Jim frowned, but his lack of response told Karen all she needed to know.

“It's obvious when you look at her, you know. I try to ignore it, but it's obvious. I got jealous about it, I got angry at Pam, I felt insecure as hell – you know I almost tore down fliers for her art show?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That's why I kept insisting that I wanted to go out that night, because I didn't want you to go to that show and see her. Not that it was that hard to convince you. I mean, there you go, that's another example – from everything I've seen and heard, you and Pam were friends before you transferred to Stamford, and you had to really like her if you ended up switching branches right before she was supposed to marry Roy. And yet you don't go to the art show that she was talking about all day at the office? Why would you avoid that? Even I knew that was important to her from the way she was talking about it.”

Jim shrugged helplessly.

“Because you're avoiding her, Jim. Because you thought going would make it obvious to me. And it should have, but I guess I didn't want to let you go. I really do like you, Jim, even though I'm mad at you for convincing me to come here as your little safety net without telling me you were still hung up over somebody here. You know it's not fun when my boyfriend is the only person I know here, and he's got it bad for another girl.”

Karen folded her arms together as her little rant came to an end. Jim had been staring at some random focal point in the apartment halfway between her and the television, listening to what she said but too uncomfortable to directly address her. He looked like he was about to say something, but then faltered. Finally he spoke up.

“Sorry.”

Karen wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. Maybe for putting her in the situation she was in. Maybe he was just admitting she was right. She had seen enough of Jim and Pam, heard enough about them from others in the office, to know that both of them could be fairly dense when it came to how they felt. Apparently they had been dancing around each other for years.

“Whatever,” she said. “I can understand why you wanted me to come here with you. But I just can't keep trying to live a lie for the both of us. You need to wake up and smell the roses, Jim.”

“Even if I liked Pam, she's with Roy.”

Karen rolled her eyes.

“She's probably back with Roy for the same reason that you're with me. Were with me, anyway.”

Their conversation faded into the air as the two of them sat quietly on the couch, listening but not really listening to the television's chatter. Karen felt surprisingly good as she sat beside her now ex-boyfriend. She knew the feeling wouldn't last; the next week would probably be horrible, and she might even start crying as soon as she got back to her apartment. But for the moment at least, she was just relieved to have gotten her feelings out and told Jim what she had been trying not to acknowledge for a long time. It was out in the open. Finished.

Karen regretted coming to Scranton with Jim. She knew it had been a bad decision. And yet, she did like Jim. He had that kind of effortless dorky charm that – combined with his good looks – cut right through her initial defenses. He was hard not to like, even if Karen knew that their personalities clashed in some ways. Jim was a laid back guy, and while she enjoyed his sense of humor, she got the feeling that being with him long enough would have brought some of their clashing personality traits to a head. And he didn't take his job as seriously as she did.

More than all that, however, there was a wrench in their relationship that she'd never be able to overcome.

She wasn't Pam.

.....
A Cauliflower for Jim
.....

Mondays were normally Dwight's favorite day of the week. Back to work, refreshed by a weekend of rest and relaxation, ready to tackle the challenge of a week's worth of duties as Assistant Regional Manager. He usually did his best sales on Monday, although he sometimes wondered if it was because none of his coworkers in the sales department seemed to have a positive attitude about coming back to work every week.

Today, however, was a strange Monday. Dwight had been on edge ever since he came into work. The last week had been strange enough, but this weekend had given him more of an opportunity to think about things, and Dwight couldn't help noticing a difference in the atmosphere of the office. Pam seemed even quieter than usual, and she was usually pretty quiet. Jim and Karen hadn't talked once since they came in, almost like they were avoiding each other. And, in a continuation from last week, Jim seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder. No snarky comments, no pranks. He had enjoyed the respite last week, but it was starting to get unsettling.

Dwight's phone began ringing just when he was about to reach over and dial a number for a sales call. He frowned and picked it up.

“Dwight Schrute, Assistant –“

Dwight recognized the noticeably upset voice on the other end of the line.

“Mose? How did you know my extension? I didn't know you could even operate the phone.”

Mose began a blubbering explanation as Dwight listened patiently. He shot Jim a glance, expecting to see his coworker listening intently to the conversation for any possible openings to poke fun later, but once again, Jim seemed to be ignoring him.

“Mose, calm down. I have at least six more copies of that anthropomorphic beet sculpture in the downstairs closet. That novelty shop was stupid for letting them go with such a steep discount,” he said with a chuckle, speaking partly to himself and partly to his cousin. “Just be more careful when you're running past the fireplace mantle next time, okay?”

Dwight heard the telltale sound of a desk chair swiveling behind him; Phyllis, nosy woman that she was, had probably decided to eavesdrop on his private conversation. As he listened to his cousin on the phone, who had disappeared from the line for a moment, he heard a faint screech.

“Mose!” Dwight shouted. “Get the dustbin and brush. Don't try to pick up the broken porcelain pieces with your hands! The first aid kit is underneath my bed if you need it.”

Dwight stayed on the phone long enough to make sure Mose was in no danger of harming himself; fortunately, it sounded like his cousin had avoided serious injury. Once Mose got to cleaning, he hung up with a sigh of exasperation. Mose must have been flailing his arms around again if he had managed to knock a piece off the mantle. Even if there were five porcelain beet sculptures remaining, Dwight was a little irked at losing one.

His irritation changed rapidly to nervousness as he looked at Jim again, expecting a snappy insult or cheeky statement about the phone call. Dwight steeled his reflexes, but nothing happened. As usual, Jim stared at his computer monitor, as if making a special point to ignore him. Phyllis did say something behind him, but Dwight paid no attention. That phone call had been unexpected, a potential embarrassment – not that there was anything embarrassing about collecting beet paraphernalia, but Jim would probably disagree – and yet Jim was not taking a golden opportunity.

It was just bizarre.

Dwight stared blankly at his computer screen. Although he tried, he was unable to concentrate on his work. After it became obvious that he need a break to gather his concentration, Dwight got up and walked to Michael's closed office door, knocking as a warning before letting himself in. Michael was on the phone, but he seemed to be wrapping up a conversation with someone, and hung up as soon as Dwight entered. Michael motioned for him to take a seat.

“Michael,” said Dwight, “how is your Monday?”

“Very productive, Dwight. Very productive. What brings you to my office?”

“Just wanted to catch up on things.”

Dwight nodded as Michael peered at him and tapped a pen nervously on the desk.

“What kinds of things?”

“Um – office things?”

The sound of Michael's pen tapping on the desk filled the office. Michael seemed to be waiting for more clarification. There was exactly one office thing weighing heavily on Dwight's mind, and he decided the best way to broach the subject was to jump right into it. As casually as possible, of course.

“So how about Jim quitting, huh?”

A suspicious look crossed Michael's face as he sat back in his desk.

“What about him quitting?”

“Well, I was wondering – do you have anybody applying for his position yet? Interviewed anybody? Who's going to replace him?”

“I haven't thought about that,” said Michael. “I don't think we need to hire anybody. Andy will be coming back from Anger Management soon, if he passes, and we could always bring Todd Packer in from the road. I'm sure he'd like to be back at a desk after all this time.”

A chill ran down Dwight's spine at the thought of being paired with Todd Packer on a sales call. Or having to sit next to him all day at work, for that matter. Andy Bernard wasn't as bad, but Dwight got the feeling if Jim was gone, he'd get the full brunt of Andy's attention, which was not a good thing. Dwight's brow creased with worry at the thought.

“Does that mean I'd have to go on sales calls with Andy or Todd whenever we double team it?”

“Maybe so, maybe so.”

The prospect of Jim's departure had gotten Dwight thinking about what his coworker's absence would mean for his dynamics with the office, and he didn't like some of the possibilities that came to mind. If they hired a new salesman, it was possible he'd be worse than Jim. Under normal circumstances, Dwight would have scoffed at the suggestion that anyone could be worse than Jim. Now that he might actually leave Dunder Mifflin, however, Dwight was thinking about it more carefully. A new salesman would be an unknown. Jim, at least, was an evil that Dwight knew he could deal with. He had a full arsenal of anti-Jim skills, honed with time and practice. If Jim left, they would be useless.

Something else had been weighing on Dwight ever since last week. Something that was pressing more heavily on him as Jim's departure fast approached. Although it wasn't exactly the same situation, Dwight remembered resigning from Dunder Mifflin after Michael suspected him of wrongdoing when he took Angela's tax forms to New York. Working at Staples was bad enough; having to deal with common riffraff, working with coworkers who made the ones at Dunder Mifflin seem exciting by comparison.

But what Dwight remembered most about that low point of his life was his reaction to seeing Jim when he had just resigned, on his way to the parking lot. He had given Jim a hug. It was spontaneous, that was true, and Dwight had tried to convince himself it didn't happen ever since Michael took him back in, but now that Jim was leaving again, Dwight couldn't get the moment out of his mind. He had been genuinely sad to leave. Sad to know that he would no longer be working with Jim. No more pranks, no more blatant disregard for Dwight's authority as Assistant Regional Manager. No more sales calls with Jim as his wing man. Jim was his enemy, there was no doubt about it; but he was an enemy who honed Dwight's skills and kept him on the alert. And Dwight had gotten used to having Jim as an enemy. Maybe that old saying was true. Keep your enemies as your friends.

Wait a minute, thought Dwight. Maybe that's not the way it goes. Keep your enemies and your friends in the same room? Maybe so they can fight each other. But what would the point of-

“Dwight, what the hell are you doing?”

Dwight noticed Michael staring at him and clicking his pen in exasperation.

“What do you mean?”

“You've just been sitting there slack-jawed for like five minutes. Is there some reason you came in here?”

Dwight coughed and looked over his shoulder for a moment to make sure the door was closed. He wanted to be honest with his boss, but he certainly didn't want Jim overhearing anything, and he knew he could trust in Michael's confidentiality.

“Michael,” he said, “I've been having a feeling ever since we lied to David Wallace about Jim messing up our client meeting with John Schneider. I think it's an...” - he paused, looking back at Michael's office window again. “An emotion, Michael. It's this strange feeling, almost like it's in my stomach. It's hard to explain. Like when you eat a piece of deer jerky that wasn't preserved well, and you have to vomit, except in an emotional way. You know what I mean?”

Michael looked over his employee before nodding sagely.

“Yes, Dwight, I know exactly what you mean.”

“What's wrong with me, Michael?”

“It's called guilt.”

The revelation hit Dwight like a paintball pellet to the groin. He felt like a wheelbarrow filled with heavy dirt clods had just run over him. Guilt? It was impossible. Guilt was a weak emotion. The only reason a person would feel guilty was if they were wasting their emotions on someone, when they were justified in doing what it took to dominate them. Or maybe when they actually did something wrong, and somebody got hurt as a result of...

Dwight gulped.

“What should I do, Michael?”

“I'm already taking care of it.”

“What do you mean?”

Michael gave his phone a light tap. “I was just setting up a meeting with John Schneider. I'll be leaving in a few minutes to talk to him and see if I can get things cleared up. I've been feeling guilty about this whole thing myself, Dwight – but I think I can fix this and get Jim to forgive us and stay on the job.”

“How?”

“He's angry because I made him look like a fool in front of David Wallace and wouldn't tell David what really happened. Telling David right now would be crazy, but he might go easy on me if I can get Schneider back on board with Dunder Mifflin. And then I can tell David it wasn't Jim's fault.”

“How are you going to get Schneider back?”

“He's an old coot,” said Michael. “I think he was just angry we skipped out on a lunch meeting. As long as he hasn't finalized anything with another paper company yet, I think I have a chance, as long as I'm really nice to him and say I'm sorry a lot.”

Dwight thought it sounded like a stretch, but then, he hadn't met John Schneider personally; the man was Michael's client, and Michael had always dealt with him in the past.

“Do you need me to come with you?”

“No, Dwight, it's too touchy. I only took you guys along in the first place because he bores the hell out of me. You'll probably just end up annoying him if you come along when he's already angry.”

Dwight dropped his head a little, feeling cowed.

“What happens if it works?”

“I go to David and tell him the truth.”

“Then what?”

Michael stared past Dwight, out through the window blinds at a certain young salesman sitting at his desk and typing listlessly away at his keyboard. Someone without the chiseled good looks of Ryan Howard, but just as near and dear to Micheal's heart.

“Then, I ask Jim to stay.”

.....

Zoom, zoom.

Pam voiced the sound under her breath, blinking as she watched streaks of bright light passing back and forth in the crack beneath the photocopier's lid. The light had a hypnotizing quality to it, and Pam was bored out of her mind, facing yet another day where she had to make a small amount of work stretch out to fill a large amount of work hours. She was trying to do her copying as slowly as possible before she returned to her desk with nothing to do. Even worse, it was a Monday. Pam hated Mondays.

Jim yawned at his desk. Although he was not looking at her, Pam noticed his yawn and yawned as well. Yawns were very contagious. “Long weekend, Jim?” she ventured.

Jim looked up from his work and gave her a smile.

“Sort of,” he said. “How about you?”

“My weekend? It was alright. I had another art class.”

“Nice. What were you doing?”

“Oil painting. And there was a nude model.”

Jim held a hand up to his face in mock shock. “No way,” he said. “A guy?”

“Yes,” said Pam as she stuck her tongue out.

“Scandalous.”

“Oh my God. That's exactly what my mom said.”

“You should bring some of your paintings in so everybody in the office can see them. Just don't bring the naked guy paintings, nobody wants to see those. Except maybe Kevin,” he added in jest as Kevin happened to walk by on his way to the water cooler. Unfortunately, Kevin didn't hear his comment.

Pam rolled her eyes, although she was really glad to hear that Jim was interested in seeing her paintings. For just a moment, the night of the art show flashed through her mind; if Jim wanted to see her art so much, he could have come. But she forced the thought out, not wanting to dwell on it. Talking to Jim was dispelling her dull Monday mood, if only for a moment.

“I had lunch with my mom, too. After the art class. It was nice to see her – sometimes it feels like we don't talk about things nearly as much as I'd like to.”

Pam couldn't help remembering just what the topic she and her mother had talked about over their lunch.

“Sweet,” said Jim. “You should bring her around sometime too, with your paintings. I still need to talk to her about your receptionist career path, you know. We have things to go over.”

Pam laughed. A beeping sound from the copier told her that her copies were finished. She was honestly considering making more unnecessary copies, just to prolong her conversation with Jim, but as she watched, he suddenly glanced to her side and looked back down at his desk abruptly. Something moved in the corner of Pam's eye, and she gave a little involuntary spasm at the sight Karen standing behind her, waiting for her turn at the machine. Apparently she had gotten up from her desk without Pam even noticing.

“Hi Pam,” she said.

Pam smiled as she gathered her copies.

“Hi Karen.”

She grabbed her papers and got out of the way, returning to her desk and getting herself comfortable. A quick glance at the phone - reflexive after her years as receptionist - told her that there were no incoming calls, no messages. Nothing to distract her. Karen finished making her own copies, and as Pam watched while trying to keep a low profile, she noticed Karen returning to her desk without even glancing at Jim. Pam had been noticing something off between them all morning. Or maybe a better way to put it was that she had been noticing a lack of anything between them. But what she just saw was particularly obvious; it was almost like they were avoiding each other.

Pam wondered if they had gotten in another fight last night. She hoped it didn't mean Karen would be asking her for relationship help again. Getting involved with their problems one time had been more than enough. She noticed Jim staring at his desk, and wondered if it was just her imagination, or if he actually looked embarrassed. Almost as if Karen's appearance had surprised him as must as it did Pam. Was he embarrassed that Karen had caught them talking? She wondered why that would be such a big deal.

Unless they had been fighting about something involving her.

Pam smiled at the thought and told herself she was being ridiculous. She had no idea what was going on between Jim and Karen, if anything at all. There was no point in speculating about it.

Before she could figure out a plan to kill the next half hour – which almost always ended up being some variation of playing a card game on her computer, especially now that she couldn't hang out with Jim as much – Michael's office door swung forcefully open, and Michael stepped out with an aura of determination about him, holding a briefcase in one hand. Dwight, who had been cooped up with Michael for a while now, edged out of the office behind him and returned to his work desk. Pam looked up, her interest piqued, as Michael strode to her desk like he was on a mission. She knew he hated Mondays as much as she did – maybe even more – so his invigorated attitude was very strange.

“Yes, Michael?”

“Hold all my calls, Pamento, because I am going to a very important meeting for lunch. I'll probably be gone the rest of the work day, so you guys can all leave early if you want. It's on me!”

“What do you mean by that, Michael? Like, if Jan calls tomorrow and asks why the office was closed early, I can tell her that the responsibility is on you?”

Michael paused for a moment and pursed his lips.

“Well, don't say it like that, Pam. I'm just trying to be generous. Giving out a freebie. Gotta give the chain gang a break for food and water every once in a while, am I right?”

Michael snorted with laughter as Pam realized she had been second-guessing Michael's offer for everyone to leave work early. If Michael didn't care about getting in trouble with Jan, then Pam certainly didn't care about Michael getting in trouble with Jan. Especially not with the way he had been behaving the last couple of weeks. What had she been thinking?

“Okay, Michael. What client meeting, though? You don't have any scheduled today.”

“A very important one.”

Michael turned to the rest of the office and slapped the top of Pam's receptionist desk as hard as possible, causing everyone to jerk their heads up in surprise. Some had been absorbed in their work, like Dwight, and some had been on the verge of dozing off, like Jim. Stanley had been fast asleep, and did not look pleased to be woken up.

“I'm gone for the day, folks! Adios, muchach – mu – chacherones!”

Briefcase in hand, Michael strode out of the office. Pam looked out at the rest of her coworkers, who still seemed to be dealing with Michael's loud interruption to their peace and quiet. No matter how many times he did it, they never seemed to get used to it. “Hey guys,” said Pam, “Michael said we could leave a little early today if we wanted to. I don't know exactly what he meant by that, but-”

Stanley immediately got up from his desk, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door as Pam trailed off. From the looks of it, Meredith was about to join him. Michael had probably been thinking they would leave a little earlier than usual that afternoon, but he should have been more specific if that was what he meant. Pam wasn't really in the mood to sit around thinking about Jim leaving, anyway. Maybe Stanley and Meredith had the right idea. A half day didn't sound bad at all.

.....

Michael stared at a head of cauliflower, wondering why it looked so much like broccoli. Maybe it was some kind of albino broccoli. He had never been a big fan of cauliflower – it seemed strange to eat something that tasted like a more rubbery form of broccoli to him. The color wasn't appealing either. But grocery stores sold it, so somebody had to be buying it. Maybe cauliflower was broccoli's ugly cousin.

Grocery stores always fascinated Michael. All the choices, all the colors, all the variety. He enjoyed looking at fresh-sprayed vegetables tucked in their aisle along the wall. Something about the idea of food being sprayed appealed to him. The little water bubbles were fascinating. He wasn't visiting Schneider's Groceries in order to shop, of course, but Michael was looking at some of the produce before meeting John Schneider himself. He wasn't looking forward to the meeting. With John, there was no telling how it would work out.

Not to mention that Jan had sounded like she wanted to stop by Michael's condo sometime over the next weekend to have a fancy dinner with him. She had given him a few suggestions as to what would be most delicious, but Michael was having trouble thinking about shopping for a meal with Jan. He loved Jan and all, but she was getting a little strange, especially since the unannounced booty call to Michael's condo that started all his problems in the first place. There was even something a little scary about her. Pushy. Domineering. Jan's controlling attitude was less exciting to Michael than he would have expected, especially considering how much he enjoyed that Cinemax movie he watched last month.

“Can I help you, sir?”

A teenage boy in a red uniform appeared beside Michael, staring at the vegetables with him.

“What's that?”

“You looked like you were zoning out over the vegetables,” said the teen. “Something you can't find?”

“Oh, no. Actually, I have an appointment with John Schneider. Is he here?”

“In his office, I bet. I can tell him you're here. What's your name?”

“That's alright. I know where the office is. John knows me.”

Michael left the rows of glistening vegetables and made his way through the store. It was time to get this over with. Besides, he'd be digging an even deeper hole for himself if he ended up late to yet another lunch appointment with John Schneider. He had left himself a lot of buffer time, just in case.

Michael had called Schneider and arranged to meet him in his personal office at a store branch on the outskirts of Scranton, which had been the original family store belonging to Schneider's parents. Schneider himself had expanded the business a great deal since his parents' deaths. That had to have been a long time ago, thought Michael. John himself looked like he was on his last legs, as far as he was concerned. Schneider's Groceries had many locations over the Lackawanna County area, but John still insisted on running the operation from his very first store, in a little office in the back, despite the fact that the corporation would have been better off with separate corporate facilities like they had at Dunder Mifflin.

Then again, thought Michael, Dunder Mifflin's corporate offices made it difficult for any of the higher ups to visit most of their branches. Bad for them, good for him, since he got to run things his way in Scranton.

It was hard to resist the urge to grab and fondle various grocery items on his way through the store, but Michael controlled his impulses and made it to the employee area to the back, walking down a bare hallway with a concrete floor. At the end of the hallway was a white door, blank except for a name plate which read 'J. Schneider, CEO.' The door was open just a crack. Michael knocked before pushing it open the rest of the way.

“Hey there, Mr. Schneider!”

John Schneider looked up from his desk with a grumpy expression, his haggard eyebrows and drooping lips twisted in displeasure. It was hard to tell if it was really a look of displeasure or not, since. Schneider usually had a bit of an angry-old-man look about him. He wore a cream-colored shirt and pants held up with gray suspenders that clashed horribly with the cream color, as he usually wore when Michael saw him. Liver-spotted hands shakily clutched a piece of paper which Schneider had been looking over. A pudgy belly was visible even from behind the desk. Michael gave him a smile and waited patiently until the man put down the paper and motioned to a chair on the other side of his desk, at which point Michael took a seat, placing his briefcase beside him.

“How's it going?”

“How d'you think it's going, Michael,” said Mr. Schneider. “You come to say yer sorry for missin' our appointment th' other day?”

"Yes I have,” said Michael, modulating his voice to be as pleasing and gentle as possible. “It was very rude of me, and I wanted to come apologize. I always enjoy our lunches together, so I thought maybe we could have one together today. Maybe talk business a little.”

“Don't feel like talkin' business right now,” said Mr. Schneider. “As for eatin', I ain't goin' out anywhere.”

“That's fine,” said Michael. “I didn't feel like going out either.”

“I got a cauliflower I was munchin' on here. Take half of it.”

Michael suddenly noticed the cauliflower sitting on a paper towel roll spread out on Mr. Schneider's desk, to the left of some paperwork he had been working on. There was definitely a chunk missing already; Schneider grabbed the large piece of cauliflower and tore off another chunk, handing it to Michael along with another paper towel square that he ripped from a roll on his desk. Michael stared at the cauliflower. Although he could not see his own face, he had a strange sensation that it was turning a similar shade of white. How had he not noticed Schneider eating the thing when he came into the man's office?

“Go on, take a bite.”

Michael picked up the cauliflower, gingerly giving it a sniff. He opened his mouth. He bit.

“Good, eh?”

“Mmf,” said Michael through a mouthful of the disgusting vegetable. Sort of like broccoli, but so not broccoli. “Ith tho good.”

“So how's everything been goin' over at the Dunder Mifflin?”

“Very well, very well. We've just been-”

“You know,” interrupted Mr. Schneider, “just earlier this mornin', you wouldn't believe what one of my young employees was caught doin' over by the vegetables. I tell you what, Michael, young kids these days, they got no idea how to behave proper at a job. They're lucky to have a job, you ask me! Anyways, this young kid...”

Michael nodded politely as he listened to Mr. Schneider droning on. This was about the way that all of their lunch meetings went, trailing back for years. They always met to discuss an extension to their contract, make any changes that were needed, and set up a deal to deliver paper to Schneider's Groceries for another six months, usually. There were rarely any changes to the contract, but Michael knew that John Schneider was a man of habit. A man of tradition. He thought the lunch meetings were the proper way to do business.

More than that, though, Michael knew that John Schneider enjoyed talking to him. Talking about anything, really – his family, his physical ailments, annoying things his employees had done, things he had seen in the news that stuck in his craw, as he liked to put it. The meetings were his excuse to socialize with Michael, which was why he had taken it so personally when Michael was late to their contract renewal meeting last week.

Socializing, of course, was just another way of doing business to Schneider. And Michael didn't really disagree with the man. It was just too bad that listening to him talk was like taking a hefty dose of sleeping pills. But if he wanted to try to renew the deal and make sure he didn't lose Schneider as a client – if he wanted to give himself some leeway when he told David the truth about his screwup, or at least most of the truth – Michael needed to stick it out.

Schneider's rambling conversation switched topics from his annoying employee to something about a urinary problem for which he had been seeing his doctor a lot lately. Michael smiled and nodded, forcing himself to take another bite of the cauliflower for the sake of appearance. All he knew was that Jim had better appreciate the sacrifice he was making.

.....
Too Little, Too Late?
.....

“I'm looking forward to it too. Have a good evening.”

David hung up the phone in his home office and looked out his window with a sigh. The sun was just going down, and the automatic lights in his back yard were flickering on. He watched the empty basketball court, enjoying the sudden silence in his office. Work was done - finally. He had made his last call, and everything seemed to be in order.

Swiveling the chair around from the window and back to his desk, David couldn't help but take another look at the paperwork on Jan that the H.R. Rep had given him. The H.R. Rep was a horrible guy, no doubt about it, but as hard as it was for David to admit it, sometimes the man could be useful. Jan had been increasingly erratic recently, and this last revelation had been the final straw for David. He needed her out, and fast. Now that he had the paperwork from H.R. finished, he could break the news to her, although he'd have to wait until Friday. Thanks to the phone calls he just made, he even had some replacement candidates lined up.

Not bad for a Monday.

David was about to organized the paper on his desk a little and go upstairs to see how his son was doing on his homework when he heard the doorbell ring. He left his office and approached the front door, opening it to find none other than Michael Scott standing on his front porch.

“Michael? What are you doing here?”

“Uh, hi David. I was hoping I could come in and talk to you a bit.”

David peered out at Michael's Sebring, which was parked on the side of the road near his front walk.

“You drove all the way out here from Scranton to see me?”

Michael coughed apprehensively.

“Yeah, it's kind of important. I wanted to talk to you about a few things.”

David shrugged and stepped aside, motioning for Michael to enter.

“Thank you very much, sir.”

Although David had not been expecting Michael's visit, he supposed it was not entirely unwelcome. It was getting late, but since Michael was already here, they could go over a few things that he had been planning on dealing with tomorrow. Not to mention that David hated trying to get his son to focus on homework. Ever since he had gotten him that drum set, it was either drumming or watching music videos online while refusing to wear headphones. No work ethic in the boy at all.

“Please, this way,” said David, leading Michael into the parlor. He motioned to a couch where Michael sat down before grabbing a couple of glasses and some cognac from the nearby mini-bar. David took a seat beside his most unpredictable regional manager and filled a glass before handing it to him.

Michael took a drink and coughed violently. “I – hnngh - I talked to John Schneider today,” he said.

“Oh yes?”

“Yep. He didn't have anything finalized with any of our competitors, and he was just upset that I missed our meeting last time. I had to listen to him talking about stuff for like three hours, but I managed to get him to renew his contract with Dunder Mifflin. So we're still the paper providers for Schneider's Groceries.”

“Michael, that's excellent! You should have done that earlier, if it was that easy to get him to renew.”

“Yeah. I guess I was just kind of embarrassed about the whole thing, and I didn't want to admit that I was wrong.”

David smiled. Michael hadn't explained anything yet, but he knew what he was getting at. Micheal and Dwight's explanation of why they had been late to the original meeting with Schneider – and the fact that Jim would have done something as rash as putting Dwight's agenda in jello – had seemed strange to David. After hearing Jim deny their account, he had gone back to the corporate offices feeling like he hadn't heard the whole story. Now that he knew just how Jan was involved, David was glad to see that Michael was going to own up to it.

“Wrong in what way, Michael?”

“Wrong for blaming Jim. It wasn't Jim's fault, David. That whole thing with the planner and the missed meeting time – me and Dwight just made it up. Or I told Dwight to follow along, anyway. He listens to anything I say, even if I'm just making it up to mess around with him. It was my fault I missed the meeting, I just didn't have the right time and we ended up late to the restaurant, and Schneider was already gone. I was scared I'd get in trouble, so I lied to you. I'm sorry, David.”

Michael began to tear up a little, which David found incredibly uncomfortable. He drew back instinctively as Michael put down his half-drunk glass of cognac, reaching his arms out for a hug which David did not want to return. “Hold on, hold on,” he said, “no need for that. It's not all your fault, is it Michael?”

Michael sniffed, holding back from crying as best he could. It appeared to take an almost superhuman effort. “W-what do you mean?” he asked.

“Wasn't Jan involved?”

Michael stared silently at David.

“Look, Michael, I know what actually happened. I'm sorry for stringing you along, but I wanted to see if you were going to admit to it yourself, and it looks like you are taking responsibility. I'm glad to hear it. But you don't have to cover for Jan. Jan's work performance has been spotty lately. She's late all the time, calling in sick all the time. I had Sadiq check some of Jan's calls and found a lot of non-work-related stuff. But I also found a call she made to you, Michael. A call about coming to meet you for a” - David paused, as if trying to bring himself to say what was on the tip of his tongue - “well, a booty call, on the same day you were supposed to meet John Schneider. So I know why you were late.”

Michael gulped.

“Does this mean I'm fired?”

“No, no,” laughed David. “Look, Michael, I didn't know you and Jan had a relationship, and you should have disclosed it to corporate, but as your superior, Jan should have known better than to put you in that kind of position. It's this kind of thing that makes it a good idea to disclose your relationships to corporate in the first place. She wasn't forcing you to do anything you didn't want to do, was she?”

Michael shook his head slowly. He wasn't sure what exactly David was getting at – maybe he was talking about work stuff – but Michael's thoughts immediately went to the bedroom. He hadn't done anything he didn't want to do. At least, not yet. But he got the feeling that maybe if he gave Jan an inch, she'd take a mile. “What's going to happen to her?” he asked nervously.

“Oh, she won't be working for Dunder Mifflin any longer. Try to keep this between us, though, until we work everything out officially.”

The news of Jan's impending firing struck Michael strangely. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, really. There was a surge of sympathy, maybe even a little bit of guilt that it was his fault somehow, but at the same time, he felt a strong sense of relief intermingled in his reaction. He had been having some second thoughts about his relationship with Jan recently, and he did feel like Jan had put him in a really uncomfortable position the day of the client meeting. And not just in bed, either. Maybe this was the easiest way to step out of their relationship before it got too weird. There was no way they'd keep going out if Jan didn't work for the company anymore, he told himself. Right?

“By the way,” said David as he took a sip of his drink, “what do you think of Karen Filippelli and Ryan Howard?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I was just calling them to offer them a position in corporate before you got here. I hope you don't mind, but your branch has been doing well lately, and I thought they both seemed like promising candidates. We can always do some shuffling if one of them takes the position and you need a replacement for them at Scranton.”

Michael's mind raced at the thought of either of them leaving the office for corporate. The idea of Karen and Ryan being his superior was ridiculous, and he knew he would miss seeing Karen around the office – she was like a slightly thinner, more exotic, but less well-endowed Pam – but he wouldn't be crushed if she left, exactly. It was the thought of losing Ryan that had sent a jolt of electricity shooting up his spine. What would the office be like without Ryan? Michael shuddered at the thought. Not much fun at all, that was for sure. All of the edgy erotic tension of the Scranton branch would be sucked out, unless Pam loosened up a lot.

“Karen is a good candidate,” said Michael. “Hard worker, competent, shows up on time. I don't think Ryan would be so good. He doesn't have a lot of initiative, and he's never even made a sale.”

David frowned. “Really? Isn't he close to getting an MBA? Why are we keeping him if he's never made a sale?”

Michael, realizing he might have gone too far over his mark, coughed nervously in the middle of a drink as he backpedaled. “Oh, well, he hasn't made one yet, but I think I'm making good progress with him. Ryan has a lot of potential, I just need to show him the ropes a little more.”

“Gotcha,” said David. “He must have potential if he's getting through business school. Anyway, now that this whole fiasco with losing John Schneider as a client has been cleared up, I'm going to have to call Jim tomorrow and apologize for blaming him for the whole thing. You've made things a bit awkward for me, Michael.”

“I'm so sorry.”

David couldn't help but chuckle at Michael's abject tone. “It's alright. I'll have to offer him the position, too. I know you seem to like him, don't you? He seems like a personable guy, and maybe a managerial position would get him a little more serious about things, challenge him a little. What do you think?”

Yet another valued employee on the verge of leaving, thought Michael. And just when I was going to apologize to him and get him to stay!

”I'm not sure,” he said. “I think Jim is very good at sales.”

“Right. What about management potential?”

Michael shrugged. He wanted to tell David that Jim wouldn't be good management potential – and to be honest, Michael wasn't sure if it would even be a lie, since Jim was not always the hardest worker – but he hesitated at the thought of trying to keep Jim from the job by talking him down. He was trying to make things right with Jim, after all. Now that Michael thought about it, he had just done the same thing with Ryan. Some would say sabotaging Ryan's chances. But sabotage was an unfair word. Michael took another sip of his cognac, feeling a sense of wooziness creeping into his head along with the beginnings of a headache. Trying to patch things up by talking to David was harder than he had expected. Michael felt his head begin to hurt as he weighed his options and felt himself spinning in a moral whirlpool.

That, or maybe it was just the cognac.

“Wait,” he said, a thought coming to mind. “What about me?”

David adjusted his glasses as he waited for Michael to continue. “Sorry?” he asked. “What about you?”

“Can I apply for the job?”

David stared open-mouthed for a moment, and a faint blush crept across his cheeks.

“Oh, well – uh, yes, of course Michael. I meant to offer the position to you too. You can come in for an interview if you're interested. It's just been so hectic the last couple days, I'm still trying to get things in order, but yes, you're definitely a candidate for the job as well.”

“Good,” said Michael. “Very good. I shall consider that.”

David finished his drink and got up from the couch.

“Alright, I have to go check on my son, and it's getting late. We've got everything wrapped up here, I suppose?”

“I think so.”

Michael followed David's example and got up, shaking the CFO's hand and feeling relieved that his awkward visit was coming to an end. David led him to the front door and opened it up.

“Have a good evening, Michael. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“I'll call you about that interview.”

“Definitely.”

Michael left the house, hearing the front door shutting behind him. He strode down the walkway that led towards the secluded suburban street in front of his house, glancing back to take in David's home. He liked his condo, but it wasn't much compared to the size of David's place. Being CFO must come with a huge paycheck. And you got to live in New York.

The more Michael thought about it, however, the thought of working at corporate didn't seem as exciting as he had expected, now that it was within reach. He had always told himself he wanted to live in New York, but that would mean leaving Scranton. Leaving Dunder Mifflin Scranton branch, more specifically. What did he accomplish if he got Jim to stay, only to leave the branch himself? Of course, if Michael turned down the job, Jim might take it and end up being his boss, which was so strange that Michael had a hard time imagining it.

Definitely a strange night. The only thing Michael could think of doing now - besides getting back to his place and falling asleep - was to talk to Jim tomorrow. Then, hopefully, Jim would finally forgive him and everything could go back to normal.

.....

Jim was having a hard time concentrating.

There were a number of reasons it was difficult to concentrate on his work. One of the newest, for example, was his breakup with Karen over the weekend. Seeing her mere yards away was not getting any easier, even if he knew now that Karen had been right to break up with him. Sitting in the same office as your ex-girlfriend of two days was excruciatingly awkward; Jim was beginning to understand why they always said workplace romances were a bad idea. He seemed to have a lot of trouble following that advice.

Beyond having to deal with the whole Karen situation, Jim had been having trouble focusing on his work ever since he gave his two week's notice. He would be gone soon, and there was no reason to try very hard when it came to getting anything done. Not that there was much of a reason to do anything in the past, other than earning the paycheck which came no matter what pace he worked at. But ever since Jim had been counting the days until he left Dunder Mifflin, it had been difficult to muster any motivation at all.

Getting a call from David an hour ago, however, was making it difficult to concentrate for a whole new reason. Apparently, David knew Jim had been falsely accused of messing up the meeting with John Schneider last week. Not only had David apologized for reprimanding Jim when it wasn't his fault, but he had offered him a job in corporate. Jim hadn't heard about any job openings. Maybe Jan was in trouble. Or maybe there was just a new job in New York that Wallace needed to fill. Either way, suddenly Jim found himself faced with an option beyond quitting. It was a tempting offer, too. A pay raise, a new place to live. New York had to be more interesting than Scranton. But did he want to move up in Dunder Mifflin instead of out?

Finally, beyond the choice Jim had to make, his last distraction of the morning was Michael's bizarre behavior. Jim had caught his boss staring at him through the blinds of his office window at least a dozen times. It was beginning to rival the attention Michael paid to Ryan on slow days. On a couple of occasions, Michael had come out to talk to Pam or run some errand in the main room, only to linger near Jim's desk on his way back as if on the verge of saying something before retreating back into his office. Jim didn't know how David found out that he wasn't at fault in the Schneider fiasco, since David hadn't gone into any detail, but he wondered if Michael had confessed to the CFO.

And now, maybe his boss was waiting for the right opportunity to make things right with him.

“Jim,” said Michael as he opened his door a crack. “Can I speak to you?”

Jim grinned. That had to be it.

“Sure, Michael.”

Inside the office, Michael shut the door behind Jim and began to pace about nervously. Jim stood patiently, waiting for his boss to explain why he had been acting so strangely all morning. It didn't take long.

“Jim, I told David it was my fault, okay? I took full responsibility. And I'm sorry I used you as a scapegoat, I'm sorry I put you in such a horrible position. It won't happen again.”

Michael paused in his pacing, peering at Jim as if trying to read his mind.

“Was that – was that what you wanted?”

Jim smiled.

“Yes, Michael. That was what I wanted.”

Michael breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently Jim's answer was what he had been hoping for. The reaction sent a little twinge of guilt through Jim, as he knew it wasn't really the answer his boss was hoping for. Now that he had gotten that call from David, he wasn't sure if an apology made a difference anymore. And even if it did, there was more driving his decision to quit than what Michael had done to him. Things had gone beyond that.

“Anyway,” said Jim, “I already knew you told David what really happened. At least, he called me this morning and knew it wasn't my fault, so I figured you told him what really happened.”

“Yeah. So, does this mean you're not going to quit?”

Jim frowned. It was a simple question, but with a complicated answer. Well, maybe not so complicated when it just boiled down to a no – he had still been planning on quitting this morning – but he knew Michael would ask why, and that was complicated. Not to mention that Jim needed to think about the possibility of promotion.

“David mentioned a position at corporate, actually,” said Jim. “He said I'd definitely get an interview for that if I applied.”

“Me too,” said Michael, trying to sound casual. “I might interview for that one too. You'll be up against some tough competition, young padawang.”

“Padawang?”

“Star Wars, Jim.”

“What's that?”

Michael gave Jim an incredulous look. “Come on, Jim, Dwight talks about it all the time. I thought you were almost as nerdy as he was. Anyway, look – are you sure you want to apply for a job at corporate? I mean, is that really your scene? New York?”

It was obvious that Michael didn't want him to apply, but Jim couldn't be sure if it was because his boss didn't want competition – assuming he was serious about trying for the job in the first place – or if it was because he didn't want Jim to leave the Scranton branch. But then, even if Michael had an ulterior motive, he also had a point. Jim had only gotten David's call a little over an hour ago, and he had already been wondering if moving up to management was what he wanted. He knew it was what Karen would have wanted, but she had just broken up with him. Maybe she would go for the job herself. As for himself, Jim couldn't help but wonder if New York really was his scene.

“You know, I really don't know, Michael. I might not do it. I might just quit anyway.”

“But why? I just apologized to you, and I swear I won't blame stuff like that on you again. I mean, unless I'm really stuck between a rock and – no, I won't. I won't do it again!”

“Michael, look, I appreciate you being honest, but I've been thinking about it, and it's not just about what you did. I think quitting is the best thing for me.”

“Well it's the worst thing for me, Jim!”

Michael crossed his arms petulantly, his lower lip quivering, before regaining his composure. He strode to the office door. Jim half expected him to storm out of his office in a huff, but instead, he stood in the doorway and looked out at his employees.

“Dwight!” he yelled.

“Yes, Michael?”

“Come in here, please.”

Dwight leaped up from his desk and entered Michael's room, shutting the door behind him. He saw Jim standing nearby and recoiled for a moment before looking to Michael for orders.

“Tell Jim you're sorry.”

Dwight looked back and forth between Michael and Jim, as if sensing that he was caught in a trap.

“Sorry about what, Michael?”

“For helping me lie about him to David. Wake up, Dwight.”

Dwight twitched noticeably.

“I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry for anything.”

“Say you're sorry or Jim will quit!”

Jim tried his best not to start grinning at the exchange. Dwight gave him a defiant stare, which Jim returned with a piercing stare of his own, until finally Dwight lowered his head. It was hard to hear, as his voice came out in a mumble, but Jim could pick it up when he strained his ears.

“I'm sorry, Jim.”

“What was that, Dwight?”

“I'm sorry I lied about you, Jim. You should stay here at the office. You should keep working here.”

Dwight looked up again, and before Jim could respond, he took a quick step forward and pulled Jim into a hug. Jim hadn't expected it, and the momentum was enough to make him stumble back a few steps as he stood limply, caught in Dwight's grip. He heard a stifled sniff come from his coworker as he buried his face in Jim's shoulder.

“Don't leave, Jim. We're a good team, even if you're my worst enemy. And sometimes,” - Dwight let out a muffled cry - “sometimes you're tolerable!”

Jim began to feel more awkward and uncomfortable than amused. He wanted an apology from both of them, even if he had never been expecting one from Dwight. Now, he had finally gotten what he wanted. The problem was that he was still thinking of quitting, and both of them seemed like they were on the verge of breaking down. Jim began to wonder if he was somehow playing with their emotions. Still locked in Dwight's embrace, he noticed Michael take a step forward and stare insistently at him.

“Is that enough for you, Jim? Have you had enough?”

“Guys, look – guys,” he said as he broke free of Dwight's grasp. “It means a lot to me that you both said you were sorry, but I'm still going to quit. I'm sorry, but like I said, I just think it's the best thing for me.”

“Why would it be the best thing for you, Jim? Don't you like it here?”

“Sure,” said Jim, hoping that his lie wasn't too transparent. “It's just that I've been thinking about moving on and trying new things, you know? Selling paper is interesting and all, but I just think that-”

“Is this about Pam?”

“Yeah Jim,” echoed Dwight. “Is it about Pam?”

The question cut off Jim's feeble attempt at letting Michael down easy. He had been ready to launch into a whole spiel about how fun it was to work at Dunder Mifflin. He raised an eyebrow for a moment, shocked at how Michael had seen right through him. Then again, Jim had already transferred because of Pam before, and even told Michael that was why. He felt reluctant about confirming Michael's question a second time, though. He had been through enough drama with Pam.

She was with Roy again, no matter what Jim thought about the decision, and she had already rejected him twice. He didn't need Michael hearing that he was quitting because of her and causing a horrific scene five minutes later when he stormed into the office and demanded that Pam ditch Roy and declare her love for Jim. Although Jim wished it could be that easy. Maybe that would be worth a bit of a scene.

“No,” he said. He felt his lies becoming more transparent, but he had no other choice. “It's not about Pam. It's just something I have to do.”

“I can talk to Pam for you if you want.”

“Please don't.”

“What can we do then, Jim? What can we do to get you to stay?”

Jim was at a loss for words. From the way his boss spoke, it sounded like he wasn't very interested in going for that corporate job. If Michael got promoted it wouldn't really matter whether Jim was still working at Scranton or not, as Michael would barely see him anymore. He seemed to see Jim's quitting as a part of his office family leaving him. The thought saddened Jim a little, but he knew what he had to do. Sympathy for Michael was not enough to change his mind now.

“I'm sorry, guys. I have to get back to work now. Just promise me you won't say anything silly to Pam, okay Michael?”

Michael nodded quietly. Jim left him and Dwight standing together as he left the room, returning to his desk. Pam looked up from the receptionist's desk and gave him a concerned look. Jim traded a perfunctory smile with her, and then resumed his usual uphill battle as he tried to do something productive with what little time he had left.

.....

“Hey Jim.”

Jim looked up at Pam's greeting from where he sat at the kitchen table, eating his ham and cheese sandwich.

“Hey Pam. What's up?”

“Just getting a snack.”

Pam was just going to grab a yogurt from the fridge as a snack and return to her desk, but now that she saw Jim sitting alone, she couldn't resist the urge to talk to him. She hated that every encounter with Jim was turning into some kind of serious choice where she had to weigh the pros and cons. Whether Karen would see them and think their being together was something more than it was. Whether her work chats with Jim were too flirty, too friendly. Now that she was with Roy again, and ever since Jim had come back with Karen, their conversations had taken on a new significance. A significance she had never really considered, even though the two of them had been good friends at work forever.

“You can sit down if you want,” said Jim.

Pam sat down. Although Karen was in the office and could come in at any time, Pam decided that she didn't care enough to let it stop her from talking to Jim. And, speaking of Karen, things between her and Jim had definitely been cold as ice over the last two days at work. Pam didn't know what was going on, but something was wrong between the two of them. It was even worse than when they had been arguing about whether or not Karen could move into an apartment near Jim's. She opened her yogurt and unwrapped one of the plastic spoons she had taken from the kitchen counter.

“Hey Jim,” she asked, “if you don't mind me asking, if something going on between you and Karen?”

Jim nodded as he stared at his sandwich.

“We broke up.”

Pam's spoon-holding hand temporarily paused in mid-air, the spoon holding a heaping mound of mixed berry yogurt. Her surprised expression only last a moment, however, as Pam moved the spoon the rest of the way to her mouth and ate her yogurt, trying to look interested but not shocked at the news.

“I'm sorry. What happened?”

“She broke up with me. Things were kind of winding down between us for a little while, I guess.”

Pam nodded.

“Are you okay?”

“Not bad. Things are awkward, but I guess it'll be easier for both of us when I leave.”

Pam noticed a strange stabbing feeling when Jim brought up leaving. It was not the usual sadness that she felt at the thought of going to work without Jim around. It was like Jim's words had been directed at her somehow. The way he said it so casually, like it was just something he decided to do one day. Just something new he decided he'd try out.

“So you're still planning to quit? It sort of looked like Michael and Dwight were apologizing to you in there.”

“Oh yeah? Can you hear anything in there?”

“Not usually, but that's just what it looked like to me. And I thought I heard Michael crying for a minute.”

Jim snorted, and the two of them smiled at each other.

“That's not nice, Pam. Michael has had a lot to deal with.”

“Sorry. Poor Michael. Losing his best salesman.”

“Dwight's his best salesman.”

“Whoops,” said Pam. “I forgot about that. I still don't understand how he ends up being the best salesman in the branch. How does he not just scare away every client he tries to make a sale with?”

“Perseverance. Confidence. And he can actually be kind of civil when he's on a sales call. He comes off like he's all authoritative, but not totally crazy like he does when he's here in the office. Or anywhere else, I'm guessing.”

“Right. So, anyway,” said Pam, wanting to press the subject of Jim's departure, “why are you still quitting if Michael and Dwight apologized to you? I thought that was what you were fed up about. Dealing with that kind of thing.”

Jim shrugged. “It was, but I guess I've been thinking about it and decided I need to move on from the paper biz, you know? I want to try something else.”

“Like?”

There was a pause while Jim chewed on a bite of his sandwich. Pam got the feeling that her question did not have a ready response. “I'm not really sure,” said Jim. “I'm sort of interested in sports writing. I'm not sure how I'd get into that, though.”

“I didn't know that about you.”

“Well, Beesly, now you know.”

“I think you could get into it if you tried. You're a smart guy, Jim. As long as you apply yourself.”

“Thanks, mom.”

Pam resisted the urge to fling a gob of yogurt at him.

“Karen didn't break up with you because you were quitting, did she?”

“I'm not sure. It might have been part of it, but it was more than that.”

Jim finished his sandwich and got up from the table.

“I'd better get back to work.”

“Okay. Oh, hey,” said Pam before he left the kitchen, “you know we should hang out sometime if you're really going to quit. I mean, You can't just disappear next week before I even know what happened, right? You've been here forever.”

“Thanks for reminding me.”

“Seriously though. Lunch or something? I mean, I'm going to miss you once you're gone.”

It was the truth, but Pam was second-guessing herself before the words even came out of her mouth. She didn't want to come off as desperate, but it wasn't like she got to talk to Jim that often anymore, and if he was still going to quit, the clock was ticking She hadn't planned on asking him to hang out – whatever that meant – but it was out now.

“Definitely,” said Jim. “We'll do that.”

“Great.”

Jim gave her a cute little nervous motion with his hand before leaving Pam alone in the kitchen. She watched the door for a moment before lowering her gaze to the yogurt and spoon she held in each hand. She let out a little sigh.

The cup was empty. Break time was over.

.....

Going, Going
.....

As Pam sifted through a pile of her day's paperwork, she found one set of papers that stuck out like a sore thumb. The stapled forms, several pages in all, made her pause as she stared down at them. She was not ready for these.

It was a collection of forms from HR dealing with Jim's status change from employee to ex-employee. Standard Dunder Mifflin procedure. She stared at the legalese. She flipped to the back page, which had several lines for signatures, two of which were signed by Toby and Jim. A third signature slot, to be signed by Michael, still lay empty. She flipped back through the papers again. Every time Jim's name came up in the lines, her eyes traced it like moths circling a light in the dead of night. It was impossible to ignore. Before now, Pam could have imagined that he wasn't really that serious about quitting. That he would just change his mind. But this was set in stone. Well, set in paper, anyway.

Pam shouldn't have been surprised by the arrival of Jim's change of status forms. As a matter of fact, she should have gotten them already, since Jim would be quitting early next week. If he even came in at all for the last day or two. But they still took her by surprise. It was like a trap had sprung out of the otherwise mundane packet of paperwork that had been laying in her to-do basket, springing up and striking her in the face. She sensed a darkness beginning to stain her mood - which was not that good to begin with - but even with the distraction of her sudden moroseness setting in, she could tell the paperwork was incomplete. She would need an extra form from Toby. At least it was an excuse to get up from her desk for a minute.

“Hey Jim,” she said as she left the receptionist's desk and walked past her coworker and friend.

“How's it going, Pam?”

“Not bad. Just have to go visit HR for a minute. Looking forward to your last weekend?”

“I don't think it's my last weekend, Beesly. I'm not dying.”

Pam laughed, a little nervously. “Oh, right. Well, last Dunder Mifflin weekend, I mean.”

“Gotcha. Um, yeah, I'm thinking it'll be pretty uneventful.”

Pam nodded as she leaned against his desk. The two of them hadn't talked much over the last few days, and as the day of Jim's departure loomed in the distance, Pam felt like the sound of seconds ticking by was deafening. Earlier that week they had mentioned doing something together before Jim left. Pam half expected him to ask her to do something over the weekend – after all, she had no idea where he would go, even where he would be, after he left Dunder Mifflin – and she waited awkwardly as Jim stared up at her with a smile. Just as she was about to decide to ask him herself, she noticed Karen staring at her. Jim's ex didn't look particularly angry, but Pam immediately began to feel awkward.

“Alright,” she told Jim, “I'll let you get back to your work.”

Pam tried to avoid looking at Karen as she walked past her. She made her way into the annex, hearing a loud conversation between Ryan and Kelly as soon as she opened the door. Toby sat in his chair, which was turned from his desk as he leaned against the wall partition between the cubicles. Pam couldn't tell if he was asleep or just zoning out, but he jerked up a little as he noticed her entering.

“Hey Toby,” she said, giving him a little wave.

“Hi Pam! What brings you back here?”

“Um, I got Jim's change of status forms, but I think there's a paper missing. I thought you-”

“Hey, why don't you hang out back here and chat a little?”

Toby pointed to an empty desk chair sitting nearby. Pam found his request a little strange; he was a nice guy, actually kind of cute in a way, but it wasn't like the two of them talked all that much. It only took a moment of confusion for Pam to realize that he probably wanted a break from the verbal battle going on between Ryan and Kelly in the cubicle adjacent to his own. Pam had been in the annex for about ten seconds and it was already annoying her, so it must have been torture for Toby. She felt a surge of sympathy for him and grabbed the desk chair he had offered, pulling it in to sit closer to him. She did want a break, after all.

“How've you been, Toby?”

“Pretty good, pretty good.”

Toby's head tilted back in the direction of the cubicle behind him as he spoke, and Pam was unable to resist a laugh, which he joined immediately.

“Are they always like that?”

“Not always. But sometimes when they're quiet it's just because they're making out.”

“Ew,” said Pam. “Can't you slap a PDA charge on them?” Pam leaned in confidentially. “You're HR, Toby. You've got the power.”

“Ah, there's no point. They'd just keep going, believe me.”

Pam gave him a sympathetic smile as she clutched the forms in her hand. The conversation went into a lull, and was threatening to become awkward until Toby spoke up again.

“So, how are your art classes going?”

“Really good! Thanks for asking. I'm enjoying them a lot. Last week we we using oil paints, and we actually had a nude model come in. Kind of a cute guy actually, it was a little awkward. I guess I'm just not used to that.”

A strangely jealous expression crossed Toby's face at Pam's mention of a male model.

“Hey now,” Pam said teasingly, “don't get jealous. It's just for art!”

The jealous look immediately shifted into a grin. “Of course, art. Art is important. I always thought you seemed like you had a good appreciation for culture, you know.”

“Um, thanks.”

Toby leaned in a little, speaking more softly, although it was now almost impossible to hear him over the increasingly angry shouting going on between Ryan and Kelly in the other cubicle. “You know what,” he told Pam, “I was thinking it might be kind of fun to start a club here at work, just with a couple of people.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of club?”

“Just like a little club. Like, maybe a book club, something like that. We could eat nice food, too. Cultural things.”

“What, like the finer things in life?”

“Exactly!” said Toby, nodding enthusiastically. “Maybe we could invite Oscar, he seems to appreciate that kind of thing. And I know he likes to read.”

The idea was out of left field, but Pam found it intriguing. She was surprised to hear it coming from Toby, as he never struck her as the most social person, but he seemed particularly excited about the idea. Maybe he got lonely back here in the annex. It was pretty underpopulated compared to the rest of the office. Or maybe he just wanted to talk about books at work. Pam had to admit it was a neat idea.

“I'd definitely join your club if you set one up,” she said.

Toby looked pleased at her response, and Pam took the opportunity to slide Jim's change of status forms forward on his desk. As if noticing them for the first time, Toby picked them up and flipped through them. “Oh, I see,” he said. “I think I have the one you're looking for in a drawer down here.”

“So Jim's really quitting, huh?”

Toby looked up from the drawer he had opened.

“I guess so.”

The heated battle of words behind them had died down without either of them noticing, and when she turned to the side, Pam was startled to see Ryan and Kelly standing beside Toby's cubicle, watching the two of them. “Hey Pam, hey Toby,” said Kelly. “What are you guys talking about all secretively back here?”

Kelly gave Pam a playful smack on the arm, which Pam tried to ignore. “Um, just getting a form. You guys okay?”

“Me and Ryan? Why wouldn't we be?”

“You were practically screaming at each other a minute ago.”

“We made up,” said Ryan and Kelly in unison. Kelly grinned in agreement with her boyfriend and squeezed his shoulder encouragingly. “So I heard you guys talking about Jim quitting,” she said..

“Yeah, crazy, isn't it?”

“Oh my god, like totally! I can't believe Michael is such a heinous liar.”

Toby lifted a hand and tried to cover an amused smile, but Pam still noticed it.

“Are you okay with him quitting?” asked Ryan.

Pam felt herself go on the defensive in a flash. “Well, I mean, he's a good friend, so it'll be sad to see him go,” she said, “but I guess he wants to try working somewhere else.”

“Right. So you're just friends, huh?”

Kelly slapped her boyfriend on the arm.

“She's with Roy now, Ryan. Don't try to break them up, they're totally in love!”

Pam felt a flush of embarrassment spread over her cheeks. Sometimes Ryan could be rude, and it seemed deliberate; she would have worried she was judging him too harshly, but Jim had told her the same thing before, so it wasn't just her imagination. “Yes, Ryan,” she said, “we're just friends.”

“It's too bad to see him go,” said Toby. “He's a nice guy. I'll have to find somebody else to babysit Sasha from now on.”

“Hopefully Michael hires another hot guy to replace Jim,” said Kelly.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry Ryan. I'm just joking. But still, you know what I mean, right Pam?”

Kelly winked at Pam, who coughed noncommittally.

“When's Jim quitting?” asked Ryan. “Next week?”

Toby fished the missing piece of paperwork out of his desk and reorganized the change of status paperwork for Pam. “He told me today might actually be his last day,” said Toby. “Since it's Friday. By the way, when I got to work this morning, Darryl told me he was going to get Jim to come out to Poor Richard's tonight for a few drinks to send him off. He said everybody in the office should come along, so pass that on.”

“Do they have margaritas?” asked Kelly.

Pam and Toby nodded.

“Me and Ryan will be there.”

“I dunno Kelly, I was thinking maybe we could just-”

“We'll be there, Ryan Howard.”

Ryan's shoulders slumped in submission as Kelly gave him a pleased smile.

.....

“Hey dude, where you off to?”

Jim paused on his way through the warehouse as Darryl appeared from his open office door, apparently having seen Jim pass by his window. “Hey, what's up?” he said. “I was just going out to lunch.”

Darryl nodded as he approached Jim with what looked like the remnants of a sandwich in his hand. “This is my lunch here,” he said. “Leftovers from last night.”

“What's in it, ham?”

“Nah, turkey. I made the leftovers into a sandwich for lunch.”

Jim was a little disappointed at the non-ham choice, but he'd let it slide. “Looks good,” he said. “Got any for me?”

“I don't think so.”

Jim glared at Darryl in mock indignation at his refusal to share. The two of them moved out of the way and stood next to one of the shelving units as another warehouse worker passed by on a forklift. Darryl nodded to the passing employee, one arm propped casually against the shelf, as he took another bite of his sandwich.

“So you're quittin' pretty soon, huh?”

“Yeah, today's probably going to be my last day.”

“Damn. That's too bad, man. You got any plans tonight?”

Jim shook his head. “Just hanging out with my roommate, probably.”

“Nothing with Karen?”

“We broke up.”

“Oh, hey, sorry about that. I didn't know. That's too bad, she was pretty cute.”

“Yup.”

“Why don't you come out to Poor Richard's tonight and have a drink? I was thinkin' you and your buddies up at the office could come out and celebrate you gettin' away from Michael. I'd be there, maybe a couple people from the warehouse too. Not havin' Michael as a boss anymore has to be a reason to celebrate, am I right?”

Jim laughed. “He's actually not horrible once you get used to him. But yeah, I guess I could come out. Why not?”

“That's what I'm talkin' about,” said Darryl as he gave Jim a slap on the arm.

Jim was about to excuse himself to go to lunch when Roy came from around a corner, apparently drawn by the conversation. “Hey guys,” he said, “what's going on?”

“Just makin' sure Jim comes out to Poor Richard's tonight before he leaves us all.”

“Oh, yeah man, you should definitely come out. Me and Pam'll be there.”

“Cool,” said Jim. He was glad to hear Pam would be there, at least.

“It's too bad you're quitting. You're a cool guy, and I know you and Pam always got along well. I dunno who she's gonna talk to up there in that office if you're not around, considering some of the stuff she says about some of her coworkers. I guess she'll be jabbering to me more.”

“Yeah,” said Jim, unenthusiastically.

“Man, you wouldn't believe some of the things she's said about Michael. That's why you're quitting, right? Michael being a douche about something?”

“Well, it was. But it's other things, too. He actually tried to clear things up, anyway.”

“Still, it must be a pain in the ass to work up there with him all the time. Guy's a retard. I don't blame you for quitting.”

“At least he didn't destroy your warehouse,” said Darryl.

Jim laughed at the comment, and since he had been joking around, Darryl appeared to take it in stride. Jim definitely sympathized with Darryl whenever he was unlucky enough to have Michael as a visitor to his warehouse for more than a few minutes. Especially if Michael managed to get into a forklift without anyone noticing.

At the same time, Jim was surprised to feel uncomfortable about Darryl and Roy's attacks on Michael. Part of it was just Roy's crudeness, but it was more than that. Michael had done more than enough to deserve the warehouse worker's ire, no doubt about it – not to mention his employees upstairs – but somehow Jim almost felt sorry for his boss now that he was quitting. He should have had a lower opinion of Michael than Darryl or Roy did, considering that he worked closer to the epicenter of Michael's shenanigans. Especially after what Michael had done in the last couple of weeks. Jim was surprised he wasn't angrier. His boss had apologized, had told him that it wouldn't happen again, but there was no way to know that when it came down to it. Michael wasn't really the type to learn important lessons very often. The last couple of weeks had been rough, to say the least.

And yet Jim knew his boss saw him as a friend, even if he didn't really feel the same way. In the end, Michael was like a particularly needy child who acted out when he didn't get what he wanted, always too afraid to take responsibility. It was incredibly annoying, especially coming from a man in his forties, but didn't really make Michael a bad person at heart. At least not in Jim's opinion. Maybe he was just too forgiving.

Darryl pointed at Jim as he finished his sandwich. “I tell you that,” he said, “I dunno what you're plannin' on doin' once you leave Dunder Mifflin, but if you have any trouble finding something else, you can always come back and work for me in the warehouse. You might like it alright down here. Michael only comes down here once every couple of days.”

“Maybe,” said Jim. “Nothing's set in stone right now, but thanks for the offer.”

His lunch finished, Darryl stared at Roy as if noticing him for the first time. “Hey,” he said, “didn't you already go out and eat lunch?”

“Yeah,” said Roy.

“Aren't you supposed to be loadin' stuff for the next shipment?”

“I guess.”

“Well go do it already!”

Roy grumbled and returned to work. Darryl needed to get back to his office and take care of a few things, but he gave Jim a fist bump before letting him go. “Have a good lunch, man. I'll see you tonight!”

.....

Her work was wrapped up, and the weekend was almost at hand. Karen leaned back in her chair and watched the hands of the wall clock move inexorably forward. The last week had been hard for her; seeing Jim every day, sitting so close to him with an elephant in the room that both of them had been trying to ignore. When it came right down to it, she really liked Jim. He was kind, affectionate, funny, and intelligent. He was certainly better than most of the other boyfriends she had put up with in the past. He wasn't very motivated, and sometimes his sense of humor could be grating if he went overboard with it, but she enjoyed the time they had together. Karen wondered if she was just getting nostalgic now that they weren't together anymore.

She wasn't going to change her mind, however. Breaking up had been her choice. It was one of the hardest choices she had made in a while, but she knew it was the right one. When she thought about it, maybe it wasn't really a choice anyway; the alternative would have been waiting around for Jim to see what was already in front of his face, by which time Karen would have gotten herself in deeper. By the time she scrabbled out of that emotional hole, she would have been a lot more bloodied than she felt now.

At least the week was over. If she got lucky, she'd have a brand new job coming up. If not, she'd still be in New York on a break from work, to get some distance from everything. Then she'd have to figure out what to do next.

“Yeah, I know how ya feel.”

Karen looked over at Stanley. At first she thought he had noticed her staring at Jim, which raised a whole host of interesting questions about Stanley's personal preferences, but then she realized he had noticed her looking at the wall clock.

“Yep,” she said. “Almost there.”

Karen noticed Pam passing by again. As usual, Pam seemed to avoid her gaze. Karen didn't blame her. She had probably picked up on the awkwardness between her and Jim, or Jim had just told her what happened. She watched as Pam went into the kitchen hallway that had the doors to the bathrooms, disappearing behind the women's room door. Although she couldn't help but feel a certain irritation with Pam - she was the woman who was standing in the way of Jim – she also regretted that she had never really gotten to know her. That Christmas party had been fun, and Pam seemed like the kind of girl that Karen would like under normal circumstances. But guys always had a way of making things complicated.

Jim had made things very complicated, after all. Telling her to come to the Scranton branch with him, getting into a relationship with her when he knew he was in love with someone else. Or, at the least, he had been in denial about it. Going with Jim had ended up getting her thrown into a bad situation in Scranton. Surrounded by strangers, with only her boyfriend as company. Jim had been her anchor at first. But instead of feeling grounded in a new place, Karen ended up sinking deeper and deeper as he pulled away. She had responded with insecurity, trying to stave off the inevitable. It didn't work.

Her gaze still wandered in the direction of the kitchen, and as Karen thought about it, she decided there was no point in holding grudge. She got up from her desk, making her way towards the kitchen. Once inside, she sat down at the table and waited for Pam to get out of the bathroom. Circumstance might have prevented her and Pam from connecting with each other, but she still couldn't blame her for what had happened. And now that a little time had passed since her breakup, the sting was beginning to wear off a little. Karen decided she was feeling magnanimous.

“Oh!”

The bathroom door opened and Pam almost stumbled back inside at the sight of Karen waiting for her outside in the kitchen. Karen raised an eyebrow as Pam edged nervously out. “Um, hi Karen,” she said.

“Hi, Pam.”

“What brings you to the, uh... to the kitchen table?”

“I was hoping I could talk to you, actually. Wanna sit down?”

From the look of it, Karen guessed that Pam probably didn't want to sit down, but after a moment the receptionist acquiesced, looking a little jittery as she pulled a seat back.

“What's up?”

“I don't know if you heard, but Jim and I broke up.”

A white pallor crept over Pam's face. She pursed her lips and nodded faintly, cupping a hand to her chin. Karen could tell that she was trying to look sympathetic, but the effect was almost enough to make her burst out laughing. It was like she had just accused the receptionist of murder.

“I'm so sorry,” said Pam. “What happened?”

“Well, you happened.”

Karen had to restrain yet another urge to laugh as Pam's shock increased. She had to admit that she was enjoying putting Pam on the spot just a little too much. But it was only for a moment. Work was almost over, and someone could come into the kitchen at any moment – particularly Jim – so Karen needed to say what she wanted to say and get it over with quickly.

“Wha-what?” stammered Pam. “Me happened?”

“Yeah, you. I'm not sure if you realize it, but Jim still has feelings for you. It's been kind of obvious to me for a while, and I was trying to pretend I didn't notice it, but I guess I just finally gave up.”

“Look, Karen, I don't know how Jim feels, but I definitely didn't mean to do anything to get in between you guys. You guys are good together, and I don't want to-”

“Pam, look, no. That's not it. Okay, I have to admit I was playing around with you a bit, sorry. I'm not angry at you. It's just that Jim is leaving in a few days - I've been watching you two avoid each other, and it's kind of ridiculous. I thought I'd point out the obvious, you know?”

“What's obvious?”

“He likes you, and you like him. If you want to do something about it, you need to do it pretty soon. Like, maybe tonight. You need to break out of your shell, Pam.”

“I don't know what you mean. I'm with Roy.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Come on what? I'm serious!”

“I don't buy that, Pam. Roy's cute and all, but I've heard things about him and I think you're just lying to yourself.”

Pam's nervous expression had worn off, and was now changing into something angrier.

“Look, I don't need you telling me that my relationship is a lie, okay? I can make my own decisions.”

“I'm just trying to help you, Pam. I'm doing you a favor, alright?”

Karen felt her exasperation begin to rise a little bit. Here she was, helping the woman who had taken her boyfriend away from her, even if she didn't even realize she had done that, and Pam was getting snippy with her. Karen had to remind herself that she was being a little blunt. Pam probably wasn't used to it. From what she had seen, Pam was not the type to put herself out there. Exactly the kind of person who could keep convincing herself that someone like Roy was a good match for her. Karen was about to give up and leave work for the day, accepting the receptionist as a lost cause, when she seemed to settle down a little. Karen watched as Pam paused for a moment before getting up from the table.

“I guess it's about time to leave,” said Pam. “I'm sorry about you and Jim.”

“Just think about what I said.”

Pam nodded as she approached the door. She opened it, but paused for a moment as she looked back at Karen. She didn't seem quite as spooked as she had been when Karen confronted her on coming out of the bathroom, but she was still a little white around the cheeks.

“Thanks,” she said.

The kitchen door closed. Karen waited a little while before getting up from the table herself. Through the blinds on the door, she could see several other people in the office already getting ready to leave. Stanley, as usual, was one of the first to go. Karen knew that many of them would be meeting that night at Poor Richards to see Jim off. She hoped Pam would make the right decision and go along with them. After a moment, she got up and left the kitchen; she still needed to talk to her boyfriend one last time.

“Hey Jim,” she said as Jim gathered his coat from the back of his chair.

“What's up?”

Jim looked a little nervous at his ex-girlfriend's greeting. Karen wondered if they had said more than two sentences to each other since they had broken up last weekend. She sat down on the side of his desk as their coworkers passed by on their way out, filing out of the door on their way to the night of drinking. Michael's office door was closed, and the lights inside were off. Karen assumed he must have left already; she wondered if anyone had invited him to go to the pub with them. Pam had also left a moment earlier, and Karen noticed her ex-boyfriend shooting a surreptitious glance at her desk. She couldn't help smiling. They were so oblivious to themselves.

“You're going to that thing at Poor Richard's tonight?”

“Yeah,” said Jim. “Do you, uh – do you want to come along?”

Karen laughed. “Um, no, I don't think so. That would be weird.”

“Ah.”

“This might be the last time I see you, actually. David suggested I interview for a new job opening in corporate, and I'm going to stay with a friend in New York while I take a little vacation from work here and interview for that. I think if I don't get the job, I'm going to try to transfer to another branch, or just quit completely.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“Well, for one thing, I'm not as forgiving of somebody like Michael as you are. Whatever I do in terms of my career, I'm not interested in having him as my boss in the long run. That, and the whole reason I went to this branch in the first place was because I was following you.”

Jim looked down sheepishly.

“David offered me that corporate job too, actually. I don't know if I'm going to go for it, though.”

“I'd tell you you should, but I'm guessing you wouldn't listen.”

Although Karen wondered if she was being a little harsh, Jim's lack of a response suggested that she might be right. He didn't seem to interested in moving up in the ranks. Which was just as well. Less competition for her.

“Anyway,” she said, “about tonight, do you know if Pam's going to the pub too?”

“Uh, maybe. Roy might have mentioned they were both coming when I was downstairs earlier.”

“That's good. Maybe you should say something to her.”

“About what?”

Karen rolled her eyes. “Good God, both of you?”

Jim looked around nervously as he put on his coat. He said goodbye to Kevin, who passed by on his way out of the office, giving Jim an opportunity to avoid Karen's needling. “You gonna be there tonight?” he asked before Kevin turned the corner.

“Dude, you know it.”

“Great.”

Karen waited until Kevin left. There was no one left in the office to distract her ex-boyfriend anymore. Jim was obviously trying to avoid the conversation, but he wasn't getting away from it until she was satisfied. His eyes roamed aimlessly about for a moment until they settled on her again.

“Look,” he said, “I know things with Pam might have caused problems between me and you-”

“You think?”

“-but she's with Roy now. There's nothing there between us.”

Jim began to edge away from his desk.

“I'm just saying, if you're gone in a few days, what do you have to lose?”

The question hung in the silent air of the office. Jim stopped edging, and actually seemed to ponder the question for a moment before responding.

“I already told her how I felt, you know. That's why I transferred to Stamford. I've already tried it once. And I could barely deal with it the one time.”

Karen nodded. As far as she was concerned, it was the closest Jim had come to admitting that he still liked Pam.

Although, she had to remind herself, there had been that one time he came right out and admitted it to her, about when Andy left for anger management. Karen probably should have just taken that at face value instead of trying to talk him out of his feelings. But then, hindsight was always 20/20. As she thought about it, maybe Jim had a point anyway. She could understand his reluctance to go through all that drama a second time. Maybe the ball was in Pam's court. As she could tell Jim was itching to escape from an awkward conversation, Karen rolled her eyes and shooed him away.

“Go, have fun at your little get-together.”

“Thanks. Bye, Karen.”

Alone in the office, Karen continued to sit on Jim's desk as she looked around the empty room. In a moment she would leave for the weekend, and then, after that, she would leave for parts unknown. Maybe New York. Maybe something else, depending on how the interview with David Wallace went. Even though it had been brief, she felt a little tired after her exchange with Pam and Jim. The two of them were ridiculous. She knew things were complicated between the two of them, but did it have to be that complicated?

Somebody really needed to smack their heads together and wake them up.

Gone
.....

Poor Richard's pub: long a meeting place for evening fun between the workers of Dunder Mifflin.

Pam had gone there from time to time, mostly with Roy, although she remembered at least two occasions when several people in the office had gone there to send off a coworker who was leaving. And this time, it was Jim's turn to go. Pam had given Roy a ride in her car; she liked having a drink or two sometimes, but when she and Roy were going out together, it was usually a good idea for her to be the designated driver. The two of them pulled into the pub's parking lot. She recognized several cars already parked there. Apparently she and her ex-fiancé had dawdled in the warehouse, as most of her coworkers had already arrived to give Jim his big send off.

Pam recognized Meredith's minivan and Jim's Corolla parked side by side near the entrance. So Jim was already inside. Pam wondered if it was a good idea to warn Jim about leaving before Meredith, seeing as she would end up scraping the side of his car if she left early and tried to pull out of that tiny space. But then again, there was no way Meredith was leaving a bar before Jim unless she was kicked out.

After the two of them crossed the lot, Roy held the pub's door open for her in an unusual display of politeness, and Pam went inside the pub first. She caught sight of several of her coworkers sitting at a table inside.

“I'll get us some drinks,” said Roy as he went to the bar and left Pam to take their seats.

“Ohmygod, it's Pam!”

“Hey Kelly, Ryan. Hi Toby!”

Pam made the rounds as she sat down and greeted her other coworkers. Several empty glass mugs scattered on the table in front of Meredith suggested that she had been one of the first to get to the bar. Either that or she just drank a hell of a lot faster than anyone else. Darryl was there, and Pam left sat down near him but left a seat between them since she knew Roy would probably want to sit next to his warehouse friend. Angela and Dwight were both at the pub as well, surprisingly enough, although they were huddled together near the end of the table. Pam was amused at the sight of Angela avoiding her coworkers and sitting next to Dwight, but also trying not to make her attraction to Dwight too obvious.

She didn't see Oscar around even though he had said that he would be stopping by, and Michael wasn't there either. Pam wondered if anyone had invited him. She felt a twinge of sympathy for him, despite what he had done to make Jim decide to quit in the first place. And she had to remind herself that there was about a fifty-fifty chance he'd show up regardless of whether anyone invited him or not. At least he had apologized to Jim.

Pam looked around for Jim and caught sight of him on the other side of the table, a couple seats away from her, getting up after having picked something off the floor he had dropped. He shot Pam a smile as he settled back into his seat. She would have liked to sit next to him, but she wondered if it would bother Roy. The seats on either side of him were taken, anyway. As she focused on the seating situation, Pam was reminded of all those awkward times in high school she had tried to get a seat next to someone she liked in a class.

“And so that's when I told him, hey buddy, you can do it again for free!”

Meredith's slurred words traveled across the table as Pam settled down.

“Isn't that illegal?” asked Angela from down the table.

“Oh, don't be such a prude.”

Pam hadn't caught the beginning of the conversation, which was probably a good thing. She was pretty sure Meredith had been sharing another one of her lewd stories. She looked up as Roy joined the table with several beer bottles in hand. Hopefully he wouldn't be drinking too much tonight.

“How's it going, Halpert?” he said. “Was this your last day at work?”

Jim nodded.

“Man, you gotta live it up tonight!”

“Maybe,” laughed Jim. He flashed a knowing smile at Pam, who returned it. She knew what it meant; Jim was not the type to be living it up, even on a Friday. Definitely a homebody.

“What's gonna happen with you and Karen if you move?”

“I'm not sure,” said Jim.

“What do you mean, Halpert? She's your girlfriend, isn't she?”

“Uh, we kind of broke up.”

Pam felt a little exasperated at her boyfriend's probing questions, although she knew that he hadn't been aware of Jim's breakup with Karen. The conversation at the table slowed down a little bit at the sound of Jim's awkward admission, although most everyone in the office itself already knew, or had at least noticed he and Karen were no longer talking.

“Man, that sucks. She was totally hot. Maybe you should try getting back with that Katy chick.”

Jim's eyebrows shrugged in response.

“Jim gets all the hot girls,” said Meredith. “He's a charmer, aren't you Jim?”

Pam stifled a laugh as Jim's eyebrows scrunched together, their indifference changing quickly to concern. He stared straight ahead as Meredith, who was sitting next to him, gave him a slightly unbalanced nudge with her shoulder.

“You know, Halpert sort of had a crush on my Pammie a while ago,” laughed Roy. “I guess it's a good thing she resisted his charm, right? Otherwise I'd be outta luck. Hey, don't worry, I'm just giving you a hard time, man.”

It took all of Pam's strength to resist groaning at Roy's awkward banter. They had only just gotten to the bar, and Roy was not even drunk yet. At this rate, she wondered how he would be acting once he had downed a few drinks. “Hey guys,” she said, wanting to change the subject, “did anybody invite Michael?”

The table fell silent.

“I think he overheard me when I was talking about going to the pub tonight,” ventured Kelly.

“Everybody can overhear you when you're talking about anything.”

“Step off, Meredith!”

Pam began to zone out as the conversation went on, not having much to add herself. She wanted to say something to Jim, but she couldn't think of anything, and she had always noticed that she got even quieter than usual in crowded social situations. This wasn't the best place to start a conversation with him, unfortunately. As she stared down into her bottle of beer and listened to Roy talking beside her, however, she noticed someone sit in the empty seat to her right. She looked up to see Oscar standing beside his boyfriend. “Oh, hey Oscar,” she said.

“Hey Pam. I brought Gil with me. Hey everybody!”

Gil shook several hands before pulling up a spare stool from the bar to sit beside his boyfriend.

“Hello,” he said, shaking Pam's hand. “Pam, right? I went to your art show the other week with Oscar.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, we saw your work. It was good.”

“Thanks.”

Gil's comments brought the night of the art show back into Pam's memory. She knew he was just being polite; she remembered what the two of them had actually said at the art show when she came up behind them. Both of them had said things that hurt her, but Gil in particular had been harsh. So harsh that she had retreated into the community center's bathroom for several minutes while they stood and looked at her pictures. She hadn't wanted to greet them after what she had heard. She hadn't wanted to let them know she had overheard them, or hear false compliments after she knew what they really thought of her work. The whole situation had taken her by surprise, like she had been hit while she was down, since she had already been feeling insecure as soon as the show began. By the time she had gotten out of the bathroom again, they were both gone.

Pam had just gotten a false compliment from Gil, of course. He irritated her a little - he seemed pretentious, even compared to Oscar – but at the same time, she knew he was probably just trying to be polite and friendly now. There wasn't any sarcasm or cruelty in his compliment, whether or not he meant it, and she had no intention of letting them know she had seen them both at the show.

Fortunately, Pam did not have to linger very long on bad feelings brought up by Gil's comment. Someone else showed up, bursting through the door of the pub and bounding over to the table like he was the self-proclaimed life of the party. Of course, in Michael Scott's mind, he was the life of the party. Pam couldn't help smiling; maybe fifty-fifty odds on his arrival had been shooting too low. Several of her coworkers murmured among themselves at the sight of Michael, but Pam was strangely glad to see him show up. At least he'd probably provide some entertainment for the evening.

“Alright everybody, I'm here! Hope the party didn't start without me!”

“It sure did!” yelled Meredith.

Several people glanced in confusion at her, apparently not realizing a party had started, but her only response was to down another shot. Pam paid closer attention to Michael's demeanor; he was enthusiastic, but there was something strange about it. Almost as if he was putting on a show. Maybe it was for Jim's sake. Maybe Michael wanted to make sure Jim knew he was happy to be at the little get-together in his honor. But something about the strained look in his face made Pam suspicious.

“What took you so long, Michael?”

“Oh, I just got here from my condo.”

Michael grabbed a chair from an adjacent table and moved it to the table where everyone was sitting. He pushed his way in between Jim and Ryan before they knew what he was doing, almost knocking Ryan out of his seat.

“What were you doing at your condo that took so long?” Pam pressed.

Jim glanced at Pam and smirked, apparently assuming that she was implying Michael had been up to more shenanigans with Jan. Pam hadn't really thought of what when she was asking her question, but the fact that Jim's mind went immediately to the Jan option was funny enough.

“I was, uh – well, I was with Jan.”

“Oh,” said Pam. “And how is Jan?”

“Well, it's kind of unfortunate, actually. She got fired.”

The conversation died down as a number of people turned their attention to Michael. Drama about Michael, corporate, or Michael's interactions with corporate were always interesting, and the smell of something juicy was in the air. Michael noticed the sudden attention and balked a little.

“Why'd she get fired?” several people asked.

“Well, David said her performance was off lately. Anyway, she called me before work ended and told me to come to my condo so she could talk for a while. She was pretty upset.”

Michael looked serious for a moment, but as everyone watched, he suddenly burst into barely restrained laughter.

“Michael,” said Pam, “that's kind of mean. What's so funny?”

“Oh I wasn't laughing at Jan. I mean, kind of. It's just that, well, it was a good thing she wanted to talk to me at my condo, because I've been thinking about breaking up with her. She was a little angry,” Michael admitted with another snigger, “and she broke a few things. I was really scared, just for a second.”

The table fell into a suffocating silence for several moments, interrupted only by the clink of a glass as Meredith took a drink. Pam had to admit she was at a loss for words. Michael seemed to find the situation funny, but it definitely didn't sound so good. Somehow it wasn't surprising, though. Jan seemed like the kind of person who might fly into a towering rage during a breakup.

“Why'd you break up with her?” asked Dwight. “You guys were so good together.”

“Well, I didn't like the way she made me feel sometimes, and I didn't like the situation she got me into with Jim.”

“The situation you got yourself into,” said Pam.

“Yeah, something like that,” said Michael, giving Jim a friendly pat on the back. Jim rolled his eyes at the gesture. “But I thought she was a bad influence on me, so I broke it off. She was turning into a ball and chain, right? Keeping me from sowing my wild oaks, telling me what to do all the time. You know,” he said with a nervous laugh, “she kept saying - right before I broke up with her, when she was talking about how she lost her job – she kept saying she was going to move into my condo with me. I mean, man, talk about rushing things, right?”

A few uncomfortable coughs were the only responses to Michael's question.

“Anyway, she got really angry after that, and I thought it'd be a good idea to get out of there and come hang out with you guys. I actually left her in my condo, since she has a key anyway. I told her I was going to Poor Richard's while she was in the bathroom crying and that she could let herself out, and then I left really quickly.”

Somehow, Pam got the feeling that was not the best way to leave Jan Levinson.

“Give her some time to cool down a little, you know? And I thought it would be fun to hang out with my best bud here before he leaves for whatever stupid place he's going to.”

“Thanks, Michael,” said Jim. “Glad you care.”

“Not a problem, Jim.”

The table lapsed into another uncomfortable silence, brought up partly by Micheal's mere presence, and partly by his horrific personal life. Pam thought she had it bad with the drama in her life sometimes, but she definitely had nothing on Michael Scott. The rest of the table, judging by their vacant looks, seemed to agree with her sentiments. This wasn't quite what Pam had in mind when she was counting on Michael to bring some evening entertainment along with him. Finally, Roy broke the silence.

“Who wants to play some darts?”

.....

It didn't take long before Pam got bored of playing darts with Roy and Darryl, especially when their aim began to get worse in proportion to the empty beer bottles piling up around them. Jim had been playing with them for a little while – not only could he give Roy a run for his money in basketball, but he also seemed to be pretty good at darts, too. Michael had pulled him off to chat about something after a few games, however, and right after Jim left their little group, Pam found herself dragged from the darts by Kelly, who wanted to talk about some drama with Ryan.

She wasn't sure what was worse: loud, drunken darts, or a loud, drunken Kelly. Listening to Kelly talk about drama with her boyfriend was also kind of awkward when Ryan himself got back from the bathroom and sat down at their table as his girlfriend continued on, heedless to his presence.

“And so what's when I told him, Ryan, why don't you just tape it so we can watch my show?”

“I told you,” said Ryan, leaning over the table from his seat behind Kelly as he tried to defend himself, “they always lie about the show times! And if I don't watch it until later, I'm just going to see spoilers when I go on the internet.”

“Isn't he, like, ridiculous?” asked Kelly.

Pam paused in mid-sip of her water, wondering how to respond. To be honest, she had been zoning Kelly out over the last few minutes, as she seemed to have a string of completely unrelated complaints about Ryan, the last of which was the whole conflicting show schedule fiasco. Ryan also leaned over on the table to see Pam's reaction.

“Um... you guys should compromise?” she suggested.

Kelly considered the option, pursing her lips in thought. Pam really hoped she wouldn't ask her how exactly they would compromise, as she hadn't been paying enough attention to give them any suggestions. Fortunately, she was forced to participate in the conversation any longer, Ryan wandered off to get another drink. Kelly – apparently forgetting she was in the middle of talking to someone – leaped up to follow him.

Pam breathed a sigh of relief. She was about to get up and see what Jim was up to when Oscar walked by with his boyfriend, both of them putting on coats. “You guys leaving?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Oscar. “This isn't really Gil's scene. Or mine. We already said goodbye to Jim.”

“Cool. Nice to see you again, Gil.”

Gil nodded politely. The two of them looked like they were about to go, and Pam turned back, glancing in Jim's direction, when she noticed Oscar still standing next to her. Gil had begun to walk toward the door of the pub, but he also stopped, waiting for his boyfriend to follow him out.

“How long are you staying?” Oscar asked her.

“Um, I'm not sure. Probably a little while longer. At least until Roy wants to leave.”

“Roy. Right. You're going to say goodbye to Jim, right? In case he leaves before next week?”

“Of course. He's my friend.”

“Right,” said Oscar.

Something about the way he said 'right' irked her a little, but Pam couldn't put her finger on what it was. She wondered why her coworker had stopped to chat more instead of leaving, as Gil looked a little impatient to get out of the pub, when Oscar spoke up again after looking in Jim's direction. “I noticed you've been glancing over at him a lot tonight,” he said. “I guess you'll miss him when he's gone, huh?”

“Sure,” said Pam, a little suspiciously. “Why?”

“Just saying. Tonight would be a good time to get things off your chest, if you wanted. I'm thinking if Jim really leaves this time, there won't be any branch mergers bringing him back. This will be it.”

Pam wasn't sure if Oscar was trying to be discreet or not, but it was obvious what he was implying. His advice echoed what her mother had told her over lunch the other day. Not to mention what Karen had told her before they got off work, although that had been a lot more direct. Pam felt herself freeze almost involuntarily as Jim glanced in her direction before looking back to something Michael was saying to him.

Apparently, everyone around her was picking up on signals that she didn't even mean to send out. Everyone seemed to think she had a thing for Jim. Not that she didn't, but – well, not that she did – but –

“Alright, Gil's getting impatient,” said Oscar, giving her a pat on the back. “Courage, Pam.”

Oscar followed his boyfriend out of the pub before Pam could ask what he meant. She didn't really need to ask, though. Still, she didn't know quite how to react to the comment. Was he insulting her, just like Gil had done at the art show? She felt a hot flush of irritation rush across her face as she sat quietly, her coworkers chatting and laughing around her. Who said she wasn't courageous? Maybe she was a little timid, but things weren't that simple. She was with Roy, after all. And Jim... no. She had almost forgotten. Jim wasn't with Karen anymore, of course. But that didn't mean-

“Michael Scott!”

Pam wasn't the only one whose head snapped in surprise towards the pub's door. Oscar and Gil hadn't even gotten to leave yet before they took a few steps back at the sight of the pub's newest arrival. Jan Levinson stormed in, looking particularly incensed. She made a beeline to Michael. Pam gulped sympathetically, recognizing what was about to happen.

“Uh, hey Jan,” said Michael. “You know, I just-”

“You think you can just break up with me and leave me at your condo while you go drinking with your employees? Is that what you think?”

Michael opened his mouth a few times, but no words came out. He turned to Jim for support, but Jim didn't seem to have any suggestions. Finally, he turned back to Jan as if he was getting ready to face a firing squad.

“Yes?”

It was not the right answer.

Jan looked like she was about to smack him, and Pam was pretty sure she could see her body visibly shaking with rage. After a moment, her hand raised as she shook an angry finger instead of sending a palm flying against Michael's cheek. “I don't need you!” she yelled. “All you've done is drag me down, Michael! And you know what? I just called my assistant up on the way here-”

“Hunter?” asked Michael.

“Yes, that's right. Hunter,” said Jan, as if his recognition of her assistant's name was some kind of victory on her part. “I called him up and asked him if he wanted me to be his band manager, and he said yes. And I've been meaning to quit this stupid job for a while, so this is all a good thing! Maybe I can go down to Scottsdale more often and reconnect with the family. This is all a blessing in disguise.”

Michael stood awkwardly. By this time, the entire pub had dropped into a dead silence. Jan looked around and waved her hands dismissively. “The point is that I don't need you,” she told Michael. “I don't need you, or that stupid job at corporate. This is just a fresh new start for Jan Levinson! I just wanted you to know that.”

“I, uh – I know that now. Thank you, Jan.”

Jan turned to Jim, who flinched for a moment, especially since Michael had steadily moved aside to use Jim as a partial human shield. For a moment, as she watched with baited breath, Pam wondered if she was going to berate him too – maybe she thought Jim played some role in getting her fired – but her fears were unfounded.

“Jim,” said Jan, her voice awkwardly shifting gears from rage to something as close to calm civility as she could get, given the circumstances. “You should apply for my old job in corporate. You'd do well.”

Jim stood silently for a moment before giving Jan an attempt at a polite smile.

“Uh, okay. I'll think about it.”

After what seemed like an eternity, Jan remembered she was still angry at Michael and stormed back out of the pub, leaving Michael ashen-faced. Jim looked like he was standing by just in case Michael fainted into his arms. He shot a glance at Pam, eyes wide in shock, and Pam returned his expression. She had been waiting for Michael to bring some excitement with him, but that wasn't quite what she had been expecting.

Still, it was better than drunken darts with Roy.

.....

The night marched steadily on, keeping pace with the intoxication of various Dunder Mifflin employees. The pub was at a fever pitch, as Pam and her coworkers were not the only ones there by a long shot. Most everyone had left the table where they were all originally gathered, breaking up into smaller groups scattered here and there around the bar. Some continued to drink, some played darts and pool.

Jim wasn't really mingling with any group, although he had played darts with Roy and Darryl briefly. At the moment, he was wondering when would be a good time to leave. He hadn't had much to drink at all so he didn't need to worry about driving, and the night was reaching the point where Jim usually got tired of all the social interaction. It wasn't like he had a lot to talk about with most of his coworkers anyway.

Except for one.

The one person who was keeping him around, in fact. One of the only people besides Jim who did not seem to be mingling was Pam Beesly. She had been standing near Roy for a while, but Jim noticed her looking idly through the glass window of one of those prize machines with the claws that reached down and grabbed stuffed animals. Toby had been talking to her, but she stood alone now. Jim hadn't gotten the chance to talk to her much, and he decided now was a good opportunity. Before he could walk over to her, however, Creed stepped into view and blocked his line of sight.

“Halberd,” said Creed. “I heard you were quitting.”

“Yes, that's me. And yes, I am quitting.”

“You want any advice?”

“Nah, thanks.”

“Listen,” said Creed as he took Jim by the shoulder and pulled him a little closer. Apparently, when he asked Jim if he wanted advice, his question had been more of a statement that just happened to have a rise in pitch at the end. Jim sighed and let himself be pulled to the side.

“What's your advice, Creed?”

“I'm not sure what you've got planned for the future, buddy, but this economy – it ain't pretty. It's gonna be tough out there for a guy like you. You have any backup?”

Jim shook his head. He wasn't sure if Creed meant 'backup' like some kind of entourage, or like another job lined up. In the case of the latter, it wasn't that Jim had no ideas, but he wasn't really interested in going over them with Creed Bratton. Mostly he just wanted the conversation to end as soon as possible.

“Well,” said Creed, nodding at Jim's silence, “it sounds like you'll probably be homeless, then. But hey, don't worry, it's not as bad as people say, take it from me. There's just a few things you have to remember, okay? First of all, always visit the grocery stores at closing time, out by the loading docks in back – you'd be amazed at how much free food they just throw away every night. Fresh vegetables, expired stuff, anything they can't sell anymore. And look, if you need to know about squatting, I can give a few addresses.”

“Hey, Creed? I actually have to go.”

Creed looked around the pub. “Me too,” he said. “I need to meet some people, over there.”

Getting himself out of the conversation was easier than Jim had expected, as Creed motioned to a group of people near the bar who looked like college kids and ambled off. He noticed Pam looking at him, and walked over with a grin. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said.

“Having a nice chat with Creed?”

“He thinks I'm going to be a hobo.”

“Is he right?”

Jim wondered why everyone was expecting his only alternative to Dunder Mifflin to be homelessness. The economy couldn't be that bad, could it?

“No way to know until I'm on the streets, I guess.”

“Hmm. Seriously, though, what are you thinking about doing?”

“I have a few ideas,” said Jim. “And I can always go home and live with my parents for a bit if the job market is tough. Take a little break while I think about what I want to do.”

The response seemed vague even as Jim heard it coming out of his mouth, and he could tell that Pam thought so too. He had to admit that he hadn't been looking into things as much as he could have. Making the decision to quit had been something abstract, theoretical, but it was turning into a reality faster than Jim had expected.

“I do have that offer for an interview for the corporate position, too,” he said. “It's just, I'm not sure if I'm really interested in that. I think a few years here is enough, you know what I mean?”

“Oh, I do. Still, it might be a good idea. And you have Jan's recommendation.”

“Heh.”

“You wouldn't actually be here in Scranton anymore, but you'd be able to visit a lot, so we could still chat and stuff. As long as you'd promise not to fire me. I mean, that's what friends in high places are for, right?”

The word 'friends' flashed through Jim's mind, but he was happy to be talking to Pam, and it didn't linger. He smiled at the thought of being Pam's overlord in corporate, about to throw her a playful jab about how often she shirked her receptionist's duties, when someone sidled up to them unexpectedly.

“What's this corporate job I keep hearing about?”

Jim and Pam turned to see Ryan. He had a decidedly girly-looking cocktail in his hand, and if Jim had to guess, Kelly had asked for it and then decided she didn't want it after all.

“The job that Jan got fired from. The one she was just in here yelling about. David called me up earlier and said I should try interviewing for it.”

“David didn't call me about a job opening.”

Jim stood awkwardly with Pam, unsure of how to respond. Ryan definitely seemed a little peeved at not being given the offer. Jim wasn't sure if it was the kind of position that anyone could apply for, but if David hadn't called Ryan, it must have meant he wasn't very interested in considering Ryan for the position. It did seem a little insulting. But then again, Jim always thought Ryan had sort of an antisocial edge that made him kind of abrasive and off-putting. And as far as he knew, Ryan had never made a sale ever since his promotion from his temp position.

“The job opening in corporate?”

This time it was Michael who joined the conversation. Jim felt a little exasperated at having his quality time with Pam interrupted.

“Yeah,” said Ryan.

“The one Jan came in here yelling at you about?” said Jim, trying to give his boss a friendly memory job.

“Haha, right, that one,” said Michael, a little bit of his frightened pallor returning at the memory. “Anyway, Ryan, you probably didn't get it because I told David you'd be a better fit here in Scranton. I mean, come on - if you were in corporate you'd be my boss. Think about that. Talk about awkward, right?”

Michael laughed at the thought, but Ryan only stared blankly at his boss.

“I figured you'd be a lot happier here. And you still need to make a sale, my friend! How're you gonna do that if you're off in New York living it up? No, that's not the place for you, Ryan. You need to get some more experience on the front lines with Michael Scott.”

Jim took an involuntary step backwards, as it looked like Ryan was about to explode. Fortunately, Michael offered to buy him a drink and led him towards the bar, leaving Jim alone with Pam. He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned back to her. “Lot of tension tonight, huh?”

“I noticed. And we still haven't talked about Jan's little visit.”

“Yikes. What was she trying to accomplish there?”

Pam smiled at the question. Jim shared her amusement, although he felt a little guilty about taking pleasure in Jan's breakdown. Jan had always seemed a bit high-strung, but then, he imagined that Michael attempting to smoothly break up a relationship was probably enough to drive anyone crazy. If the relationship itself hadn't already done that. Although Jim had to admit that maybe he wasn't in a great position to judge Michael's breakup skills. He definitely hadn't handled things so well with Katy.

“It's probably a good thing Michael cut it off when he did,” said Pam. “That relationship seemed like it was going to go downhill soon, if it wasn't already.”

“I wonder if it's possible for a Michael Scott relationship to go uphill.”

“Maybe not. But maybe we're not being fair. I mean, some people just don't work together.”

Jim gave a little shrug at the comment. Pam was right, although it was hard to imagine who would actually work well with Michael. Someone who was incredibly dorky and very patient, he supposed.

As Pam's comment sunk in, he began to wonder if she had been referring to his relationship with Karen. The two of them grew quiet, and he noticed a concerned look flash across Pam's features. Was she worried her comment had come off as a criticism? Even if he wasn't going out with her anymore, it still seemed like it could apply to him and Karen. He had to admit, now that he had the benefit of hindsight, that maybe he and Karen weren't the greatest match. Maybe Pam recognized that. Honestly, Jim wouldn't mind if that was the case. At least it would be a sign that Pam felt something about the whole situation. If she thought he and Karen didn't work together as a couple, maybe that was a sign. It could be a sign that there was still a chance.

Jim felt his mood darken a little as his thoughts raced beyond his control. He pulled them back in, back to reality. Here he was, going back to hopes that had already been dashed. Pam was still with Roy, after all. And talk about two people who just didn't work together...

Jim saw his thoughts turn to reality as Roy joined the group, apparently bored of playing darts. “Hey guys,” he said. “I was thinking of leaving. Give me a ride, Pam?”

Pam looked back and forth between Jim and her boyfriend for a moment.

“Are you staying longer?” she finally asked.

Jim wasn't really sure. The only reason he had to stay any longer was if Pam was staying.

“I might stay a little longer.”

“Ah.”

Roy waved goodbye to Darryl and then made a motion for Pam to follow him. Jim thought he looked a little intoxicated, although he knew Pam wouldn't let him drive around like that. Maybe he wanted Pam to be his chauffeur for the night. Pam seemed undecided, but finally she moved to join Roy. Jim watched her make her decision. He smiled faintly, but he didn't really want her to leave, and the sight of her backing away brought a strange feeling to him. Like he was falling into himself. Plunging down into his own body.

“I guess I'm going, but we should hang out sometime this weekend, right?”

“Definitely,” said Jim.

He watched as Pam followed her boyfriend out of the pub and disappeared into the night. Ryan and Michael still stood awkwardly nearby, apparently hoping for a conversation to start, and Creed had just reappeared out of nowhere. Done talking to the college kids, Jim supposed. He stared at them. They seemed to be waiting for him to say something. He knew this visit to the pub had been held in his honor, as he was leaving the company, although it seemed more like it was just an excuse for his coworkers to come out and drink.

“So you're staying?” asked Michael.

Jim shook his head.

“No, I'm leaving.”

“What? You just said you were-”

“I feel like getting back to the apartment. Sorry guys.”

Jim went over to the chair where he had been sitting earlier. Someone else had taken it – not one of his coworkers, but just another random bar patron – and he gingerly pulled the coat from the back and threw it on himself. Michael clapped his hands loudly to gather everyone's attention.

“Hey guys,” he said, “Jim's leaving! Let's all wish him well, alright?”

Jim's coworkers gathered around him and said goodbye. Dwight shook his hand for a particularly long period of time, staring silently, and Jim was beginning to feel very uncomfortable until Angela eventually pulled Dwight away. Finally, before Jim was about to leave, Michael stopped him again. “You sure you want to quit?” he said. “There's still time to change your mind.”

Jim shook his head.

“Well, alright. We should hang out sometime this weekend, don't you think?”

Resisting the urge to shake his head, Jim nodded tentatively instead.

“Yeah. Maybe. I'll see you later, Michael.”

Michael's arms began to reach out. It looked like he was expecting a hug. Jim could have easily pretended he didn't notice, as he had already begun to turn towards the door, but instead, he turned and pulled Michael into his embrace. Michael was one of the most obnoxious people Jim had ever met, and yet, in some strange way, he knew he would miss him. Whatever bosses he had in the future, there was no way they'd be as interesting as Michael. Even if a lot of people would argue that was a good thing.

More importantly, Jim wanted to show Michael that there were no hard feelings. Michael had wronged him, and Jim still hadn't totally gotten over that, but Michael had also done the right thing in clearing Jim's name with David and apologizing. Now, the past was past, and there was no reason to leave any lingering ill feelings behind him.

Besides - Michael's lie, as wrong as it was, was not really why Jim was quitting. He knew that now. It was just a good reason to quit when he couldn't deal with the true problem.

“Goodbye, Michael.”

“I'll miss you, man.”

It was hard, but Jim managed to extract himself from Michael's embrace gently enough. He gave one last wave goodbye to his coworkers as he left Poor Richard's and walked into the parking lot without looking back. He was not planning on showing up next week, even though he had a day or two left since he had given his two week's notice. Tonight had been for goodbyes. Before Jim got into his car, he caught a glimpse of a truck on its way out of the parking lot. It was Roy's, but he caught a brief glimpse of Pam in the driver's seat.

The truck drove down the street and turned a corner, out of sight.

.....

As he closed the door behind him, Jim could hear the soft chatter of a conversation coming from the television. He found Mark in the living room, sitting on the couch, and checked his watch. It was nine o'clock; he had expected Mark to be out already, as it was a Friday, and Jim's roommate enjoyed going out a little more than he did.

“Hey, what's up man?” said Mark, glancing back before returning his attention to the program he was watching. “How was the bar?”

“Not bad. What are you still doing here – staying in for the night?”

“I was thinking about going out in a bit, actually. You wanna come with me?”

“Nah. I think I might go to bed.”

Mark looked back with a frown.

“It's pretty early, isn't it?”

“Yeah, I just feel like sleeping, though.”

Jim left his roommate behind to watch television as he made his way slowly up to the second floor. Even before he had gotten to his room, he felt a wave of disappointment spread through his body. He didn't really want to sleep, but he didn't want to talk to Mark either, and he definitely didn't feel like going out again. He wanted to be alone.

Jim had been waiting for Pam to do something all night – something, anything. Other than a few comments here and there, things had been the same with her as they always were, or at least the same as they had been ever since he had returned from Stamford.

Friendly, but awkward. Distant.

He knew it was hard to get some time alone with her when the two of them were in a crowded bar with all his coworkers, but at the same time, she knew he was leaving. She knew that tonight was her last, best chance of doing something. He could hang out with her over the weekend, maybe, as they both had suggested to each other. But what would happen? Just another few hours like this one? Small talk and coffee while a rumbling storm cloud hung over their heads? Jim wasn't really sure what he expected her to do. Declare her love on the spot? Break up with Roy in front of everyone?

Both of those things would be nice. But Jim knew they weren't going to happen.

Pam was with Roy now, and it was increasingly obvious that even if she liked him at some point, she had made up her mind. The ball was in her court, ever since Jim had confessed to her after the casino party. He had made his move a long time ago, and since then, Pam's move was to get back together with Roy. Jim didn't understand it, but he wasn't going to put himself out there again. He couldn't. Going through what he went through when he moved to Stamford would be too much. It would wipe him out.

The door to his room was closed, and Jim did not bother to turn on a lamp. Moonlight mingled with the faint glow of a street lamp outside, flowing lazily through the window and providing a little bit of light in the otherwise dark bedroom. Jim lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He wasn't sleepy, but he had no energy left.

The job search had been stalling, and Jim knew why. He knew why he had decided to quit in the first place, even if he had told himself it was because of what Michael and Dwight did to him. It wasn't because of that. He could deal with both of them, even when they were at their worst, and although Michael's scapegoating him had been particularly bad, Michael seemed to have actually realized that fact. And even if he couldn't deal with Michael and Dwight in the future, it would only be because he didn't have Pam.

Anytime things at work got too hard, he could always count on Pam to be there. He could always count on her being by his side. Someone to talk to, someone who cared. At least, he used to think that. Jim had been waffling on what to do once he quit, putting it off, because he had honestly expected Pam to cave in. In his heart of hearts, Jim thought she would decide she wanted him to stay, because she needed him in the office just as much as he needed her. But she was slipping away; not just going back to Roy, but slowly dialing down that connection with him that had made her relationship with Roy such a farce in the first place. At least in his opinion, which Jim knew was a little biased.

Instead of opening up at the news of his departure, like Jim had hoped, Pam was drawing herself in. It had all been up to her, in the end. Pam was the only reason he had to stay at the office, and tonight had made things very clear.

Jim had to go.

Courage, Honesty, and a Broken Window
.....

Roy was sobering up, but Pam paid no attention when he asked her to pull into the office parking lot and let him get his truck to take back to his apartment. They were about to pass by Dunder Mifflin before Pam dropped him off. She felt a strange, icy sensation shoot through her veins at the thought of the office. Before she could linger on the feeling, they turned a corner and reached the outer gates of the building.

“Hey, since you're dropping me off at my place anyway,” said Roy, “why don't you just stay over? It's not that late yet.”

The question faded in the car's dark interior, but Pam did not answer. She looked out the window to her left; the dark bulk of the office building hunched down against the ground beyond the entrance gate, looking down at her as she slowed the car on her way past it. It was imposing, black, framed by the curtain of the night sky. There was something ominous about the building. Almost threatening. Maybe it was just that the lights were off and all the office park employees had gone home, but Pam felt there was something more.

“Why did you stop?” asked Roy.

Pam noticed she had slowed the car down to a halt outside the office gates.

“No reason.”

It was the knowledge that she would be going back to work there on Monday, and every Monday after that one. Without Jim. The thought of dealing with her coworkers, of putting up with Michael and Dwight when they were in one of their more excessive moods, was almost too much to bear. She didn't know how she'd deal with it. A wave of loneliness swept over Pam, and she decided she did not want to be alone that night.

“Alright, Roy. I'll stay over for a while.”

“Awesome!”

Roy settled back into his seat as they drove on. Pam's window was cracked, and she could smell the night air – but beyond that, there was still a faint hint of a new car smell, even though she had owned the car for a little while. The gates passed them by, but as she looked out to the side, Pam briefly glimpsed the windows that stared out from the office before it disappeared from view. Windows she had looked out from on many boring days. They were empty and black, but within them Pam could see the promise of a bleak future.

The trip to Roy's place was silent, except for the soft whine of the engine. Pam didn't bother turning on the radio, as she knew she wouldn't be paying much attention to it. It did not take long to get to Roy's apartment, and as soon as they left the car and went inside, Roy made a beeline for the television. Pam was slower; something about seeing the office had brought her to a crawl. She took off her coat and joined him the couch after a moment, but the television was no distraction for her thoughts.

Going to Poor Richard's that night hadn't been any fun at all. Seeing some of her coworkers was all right, but she wasn't really friends with any of them besides Jim. She had gone to see Jim. Maybe for the last time. They had mentioned hanging out over the weekend, but she couldn't tell if Jim was serious. The two of them hadn't really hung out after work a single time after the two branches had merged. They used to do things together sometimes when things were easier, even though she was still Roy's fiancée, before Jim had left and everything had gotten complicated. But it seemed like it was just talk now.

More importantly, it didn't really matter if she saw him again over the weekend when she knew it would just be the same awkward small talk, terminating into nothing. She knew that tonight had been a test for her; she had come to the pub half expecting to say something to Jim, half expecting to ask him to stay, even though she knew he would ask why. Telling Jim she would miss him was not enough. Both of them already knew that. There was only one answer to his question.

And she was afraid of that answer.

“Too bad Jim's leaving, huh?”

Pam looked blankly at Roy, who still had his eyes glued to the television.

“I guess I never really talked to the guy much, but he's okay. Least it gave us a reason to go out and knock off a few drinks.”

“Yeah.”

Roy's attempt at conversation trickled off as his attention went back to being absorbed in some kind of car show. Pam knew that she was not exactly being conversational herself, but at the same time, she wondered why Roy had even invited her over if he was just going to watch television.

It was interesting how Roy had changed since high school. Or maybe it was just her perception of him that had changed. She could still remember what she thought of him, before he even knew who she was. She was timid and artsy back then. A girl who kept mostly to herself. Not much different than she was now, Pam thought with a rueful smile. Roy was a very popular guy: athletic, sociable, a bit of a class clown, and a high school football star. Pam had figured he was the type of guy who didn't pay much attention to girls like her, but when a friend of hers had hinted of hearing through the grapevine that Roy thought she was pretty, Pam had been taken aback. And when Roy had broken up with his then girlfriend, she had gathered the courage to ask him out. The rest was history.

It was hard to tell just how different Roy was from the boy she had known in high school. She supposed he had never been a high achiever, but her high school self would probably be shocked to see her boyfriend working in a warehouse now. But then again, a teenage Pam would probably be shocked to see herself in her twenties, working as a receptionist in a paper supply company instead taking the art world by storm. Things stalled over time. The idle fantasies of high school – even if she had never taken them too seriously – withered away in the face of adulthood.

“What are you thinking so hard about, Pam?”

“Not much.”

“Come on,” said Roy, giving Pam a tickle on the stomach. She was not in the mood to respond, and he frowned as he looked at her expression. “What's the problem? You bummed about Jim leaving?”

Pam had to resist laughing. He had no idea how right he was. Hearing it from Roy, however, seemed to jar something in her mind. She looked at her boyfriend and asked herself what she really thought of him. Why she was really with him. Why was she sitting here on a Friday night? Was she happy?

She had always known that Roy wasn't a very ambitious person, but she couldn't really fault him for that. She wasn't that ambitious either, and neither was Jim for that matter. Roy was generally a nice enough guy, when he wasn't in 'guy mode' as she liked to think of it, but he was self-centered. Sometimes she felt like she was a third wheel, which was quite a feat in a relationship with two people.

The things that made Roy so attractive in high school were ephemeral. Surface matters. Even his good looks had faded, leaving him sort of pudgy and faded. Pam felt a little guilty about taking a mental jab at his physical appearance, but she seemed to be in a bad mood, and it came to her by impulse. She felt a strange stirring as she looked at Roy in the dim light of his apartment's living room. And not the good kind of stirring, either.

When it came right down to it, they really had nothing in common. Roy didn't share her sense of humor. He didn't share her interests. And a lot of the time, he bored her. They had a long history together, but what had once seemed like a solid foundation was beginning to turn into quicksand.

Pam had known that for a long time, but only now was she really admitting it to herself. She had told herself that getting together with Roy again was the right choice after Jim came back with Karen; she had to stick to what was safe, what she knew. But did she really know Roy? She thought about her future. Was it really safe ? The word began to seem meaningless. She began to wonder what value there was in safety if it made her unhappy. She began to hate being safe.

“Roy,” she said, “why did you invite me here tonight?”

“I dunno. What do you mean? I just wanted to be with you, I guess.”

“But why? Why do you want to be with me?”

Roy had been smiling, but something hesitant crept into his expression as he looked at his girlfriend. As if he was sensing some kind of trap being set, and didn't want to give her the wrong answer.

“Because I like you, Pammy.”

Although Pam noticed that Roy did not use the word 'love', she didn't dwell on it, wanting to press on.

“Why do you like me?”

Roy mulled over the question.

“Well, you're good looking, you're nice, you're smart.”

The answers themselves didn't really bother Pam, even if Roy had chosen 'good-looking' as his first response. It was more the fact that the answers were so vague, so impersonal. Nice? She wondered if she had ever told someone they weren't nice to their face. Possibly Michael, if anyone. Maybe she was being unfair; she liked to think of herself as a nice person, and there wasn't anything wrong with being called nice, but Roy's answer seemed emotionless to her. He was just telling her what he thought she wanted to hear.

“Plus,” said Roy, “I thought maybe we could go up to the bedroom in a bit. Have a little Friday fun, right?”

Pam groaned.

“Or not. Just suggesting.”

“I'd kind of rather talk.”

Roy nodded and snaked his arm around the back of the couch, apparently making an effort to look like he was carefully listening to her. “Sure,” he said. “About what?”

“About us, Roy.”

Roy nodded, waiting for a response, but as soon as Pam had told him she wanted to talk, she found herself at a loss for words. Maybe it wasn't really that she wanted to talk about the two of them. She found herself wanting to talk about Jim. Or even more, about herself, as selfish as it sounded. Her bad mood had been increasing ever since she and Roy left the bar, and it was changing into something even worse. Pam was frustrated with herself. As she sat there, sitting in a silent stupor with her boyfriend, she even hated herself.

One of the strangest things about going to that bar, Pam realized, was that it wasn't even Jim who was sticking in her mind - she had barely even talked to him in the first place. It was her brief conversation with Oscar and Gil when they first arrived. Gil had been friendly enough, but seeing him had immediately brought her back to the art show, when she overheard their conversation in front of her wall of watercolor paintings. Gil had called her paintings 'motel art', and it had taken the wind out of Pam's sails, but she began to realize that it wasn't Gil's insult that bothered her. It was something Oscar had said, even if he wasn't trying to be mean at all.

Real art takes courage, Gil had told his boyfriend. And honesty.

Those aren't Pam's strong points, Oscar had replied.

Pam remembered it clearly. As soon as she had heard the words, she knew they were true. They were her weakest points, in fact. Oscar was perceptive; so perceptive that he had stripped away all of her defenses in an instant, leaving her naked and shivering. It was the reason she had been with Roy for such a long time, even if they had been on autopilot for months, for years; it was the reason Pam knew she had feelings for Jim, but chose not to act on them, fearing he'd reject her like she did him. It was the reason she had let Roy talk her out of art school. Pam was a coward, and she wasn't honest with herself. Simple as that.

“If you like me, Roy, why didn't you support me when I said I wanted to go to art school?”

The question rang out like a whip's crack. A dark cloud seemed to pass over Roy's face for a moment before he collected himself.

“Do you really think that's what you want?” he asked.

“I wanted to try it, at least.”

“Pam, it's just – it just seems like a bad idea to me. I mean, look, I'm not saying you can't go to art school, okay? That's your choice. I guess I was ordering you around too much when you asked, right? I just thought it made no sense when you already have a stable job here, and it costs money, and I mean, come on - it's not like there's much chance you're gonna do anything with art. My cousin's an artist and he's flat broke. What's the point?”

Pam knew that Roy was trying, but his efforts fell woefully short. The more he spoke, the more Pam realized that they did not see eye to eye. They never had. She wondered if Roy was with her for the same reasons that she was with him. They had both been together for so long, staying together was the easiest option, even if they weren't right for each other at all. It was clear now. It was shockingly clear:

Their relationship was a lie.

Pam had been lying to herself. She felt nothing for Roy, and putting it all on the line was worth the risk compared to what she had now. Maybe she had been a coward for a long time, but she knew there was no time for that anymore, and her desperation was outweighing her fear. She got up from the couch. Her ex-fiancé had been going on about her interest in art, but he trailed off as he looked up at her.

“Roy,” she said, “this isn't going to work.”

“What?”

“I can't be with you anymore.”

Pam left the couch and walked into the apartment's entryway, grabbing her coat from the stand and putting an arm through each shoulder. She felt a sense of purpose begin to course through her. Her miserable mood was changing into something else. Something a little scary, a little nerve-wracking, but tinged with anticipation. She looked hungrily at the door.

“What are you talking about, Pam? Where are you going?”

Pam looked back at him and wondered what had taken her so long.

“Roy, look - I'm sorry I haven't been honest with you, but I don't feel anything for you anymore, and I don't really think you like me that much either. This is best for both of us. Goodbye.”

Pam was out of the door in an instant, on her way out to the parking lot. The cold night air hit her as she walked under the moonlight. She could hear Roy's footsteps behind her, but apparently he was too flabbergasted to say anything, and was instead just following her for lack of a better idea. Pam fished her keys out of her pocket, pressed the button on her car door opener, and her car flashed its lights down the lot as if beckoning her to come faster. It wouldn't have to wait long. She quickened her pace.

“Pam! At least drop me off at the office so I can bring my truck back here!”

Ignoring Roy's shout, Pam got in the car, brought it sputtering to life, and pulled out of the parking space a little wildly. She caught a glimpse of Roy standing on the sidewalk beside the now empty space as he watched her, but she drove out of the lot in a screech of tires and left him behind. She knew it was abrupt, but she didn't have time to feel sympathy for Roy anymore. Her mind was on the future. It was hanging in the balance. The car sped down the road; hopefully she remembered where she was going. She knew she was driving a little too fast, but she was impatient.

Roy had always said she was a reckless driver, anyway.

The car careened down the streets of Scranton as she made her way toward her destination. She was following a route from memory, one she had only taken once in the past, a little over a year ago, after getting the directions in an email. In fact, it had been an office get-together after work, just like the one she had shared with her coworkers earlier that night at the pub.

The night she was thinking about, however, had been a barbecue and karaoke night at a certain apartment.

.....

There was a small stereo in Jim's room, and it was becoming obvious that he wouldn't be able to sleep anytime soon, but he didn't feel like listening to music. He sat in the silent darkness pervading his room and listened to the occasional car driving by outside. He could also hear the echo of the television going downstairs, and after a moment the sound of shuffling and hurried footsteps meant that Mark would be leaving for a little late night partying.

“Halpert,” his roommate shouted from down the stairs, “last chance to party!”

“No thanks.”

“Suit yourself! I'll be back, like tomorrow or something.”

Despite his miserable mood, Jim managed to chuckle as he listened to his roommate leave. A moment passed, and the sound of a car pulling out of the apartment complex parking lot reached his ears. Mark was a little bit younger than Jim; out of college, but still trying to cling to the last vestiges of the undergrad lifestyle. Mark wasn't the type to be caught alone on a Friday night, and on the occasion he brought college girls back to the apartment from some campus party, Jim thought they seemed increasingly young compared to him. Mark wasn't a bad guy, but it could definitely be awkward sometimes. As far as roommates went, Jim knew he could do a lot worse. He could have a roommate like Dwight, after all.

Of course, come Monday, he wouldn't even have Dwight as a coworker.

Jim had been thinking about Pam all night. About the disappointing night at the bar, about the sight of her leaving with Roy into the darkness. Somehow Pam had always been tied into his thoughts about the future, and as Jim thought about things, he wondered what his future held for him. It was definitely getting past time to look into job opportunities, considering he'd be unemployed soon. Jim knew that he had stalled too long, expecting something to happen that never had a chance in the first place. Feeling his morose mood come back, Jim began to wonder if he'd turn into a middle aged bachelor living in an apartment with his roommate. So maybe he was jumping ahead a little, but things sure seemed to be going that way.

The moonlight streaming through his window began to shift and warp, mottled by the headlights of a car pulling into the parking lot outside. Jim heard the car pull to a stop, and a moment later, its door opened. He smiled, wondering if Mark was coming back because of something he had forgotten. Mark did that a lot. Jim had noticed a six pack in the fridge earlier; maybe his roommate had bought that to take to a party and had forgotten it before leaving. But as Jim trained his ears to the muffled ambient sounds murmuring faintly around him, he did not hear the sound of the front door opening downstairs again.

Maybe it wasn't Mark after all.

.....

Jim's apartment!

After all this time, Pam hadn't forgotten the way. It must have been a memorable barbecue, she told herself.

A short sidewalk passed in front of the parking lot and made its way past other apartments to Jim's front door. Pam followed it, but she had been feeling a burst of terror almost as soon as she had closed the car door behind her. This was it. She was here. The clarity she had been feeling earlier when she was at Roy's apartment still lingered, and Pam knew what she had to say, but she felt her fear returning as she stared at the door. Could she really do this? What if Jim said no?

What if he still left her?

Pam doubled back for a moment, not intending to get back into her car, but just trying to give herself a few moments to collect her thoughts and think of something. She couldn't make a bad impression; she had to be honest, she had to be clear, and she had to use all her feminine wiles against him.

Oh please, she thought to herself. Feminine wiles? Get a grip, Pam.

As she approached the door again, Pam suddenly realized that Jim had a roommate. Mark, if she remembered correctly. She remembered Jim talking about it briefly at some point after he returned from Stamford, telling her that he had managed to get the same apartment where he had lived before the move, since he and Mark got along pretty well. Maybe his roommate would be in there now. Could she really say what she needed to say if someone else was there? Maybe she could get Jim to go upstairs. But what if Mark answered the door? Not like that matters, Pam told herself. But would it be embarrassing? Would she lose her nerve?

Calm down, calm down.

Pam took a deep breath and stood in a small plot of grass adjacent to Jim's apartment. She knew she probably looked a little weird to anyone who happened to be looking outside from the other apartments; she stood for a moment, feeling like she was on the verge of hyperventilating as she tried to get a grip on herself. She had known Jim for years, and yet somehow she felt just like she did back in high school. It was like she hadn't grown up at all.

As Pam looked around, she noticed the window up on the second story of the townhouse. If she remembered correctly, Jim's bedroom was behind the window. The light was dark; there were no lights on in the entire building, for that matter. Pam took a look at her watch in the darkness, the LCD screen lighting up blue as she pressed a button. It was a little late. Could they be asleep already? She didn't want to wake up Jim's roommate.

Okay, Pam. Enough excuses!

Steeling herself, Pam strode forward and grabbed a rock from the ground. Her mind was churning, blasting away on overdrive, and she decided that ringing the doorbell or knocking might wake up Jim's roommate. And Jim himself could be asleep, after all – he wasn't a late night kind of person, really – so maybe the doorbell wouldn't be able to wake him. The best thing to do was to try to get his attention by throwing a few pebbles at his bedroom window. She had seen it in the movies, and it seemed like the best idea.

Pam took careful aim and threw the rock up at Jim's window. The rock had been hard to see in the darkness. It must have been bigger than she thought, because as she watched, it went straight through the window, shattering it in a shower of glass.

“Ah, crap.”

A momentary urge to make a break for it gripped Pam tightly, but she rooted herself firmly to the ground. Breaking the window had definitely not been her intention, but if Jim was up there, he'd be awake now. A few other windows in the neighboring buildings lit up at the sound of the loud crash. Pam counted the seconds, hoping against hope.

Finally, Jim's window joined the others and changed from black to yellowish-white as a light turned on inside. After a moment, Pam could just barely make out a silhouette behind the blinds, which looked like it was stepping gingerly to avoid broken glass. The silhouette peered outside.

“What the hell?”

“Hi Jim!”

Pam waited patiently as the silhouette stood still for another moment.

“Pam?”

“Yeah, it's me.”

“Did you just throw a rock through my window?”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Can you let me in downstairs?”

The silhouette disappeared, and Pam made her way towards the apartment's front door. Hopefully Jim wasn't going to be mad at her. She did just break his window and probably woke him up from sleeping. It didn't take long for the door to open, and Jim stood in the entryway, his face twisted in confusion.

“Why did you throw a rock through my window?”

“I was trying to get your attention.”

Jim looked at the open door for a moment, as if checking it to see if it was actually there.

“Why didn't you just ring the doorbell or knock?”

“Well, I thought I might wake up your roommate.”

“Um, he's gone, and that makes no sense.”

Pam stood nervously, gathering her coat to herself to keep out the cold night air.

“I wasn't really thinking it through, I guess. I'm kind of nervous.”

“Ah. Nervous?”

“Can I come in?”

Jim nodded and stepped aside to let her enter. She came in and looked around; it was about the same as she remembered it from the night Jim had held a barbecue for his coworkers. “Where's your roommate?” she asked.

“Out partying somewhere. So, uh, what occasion has brought you to throw rocks at my humble abode?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Jim seemed to pause at the sound of the question, as if he could pick up something implied behind it.

“Can we go up to your room?” asked Pam.

“Sure.”

Pam followed Jim upstairs. She didn't know why exactly she wanted to go to Jim's room, since his roommate was not there and they could talk anywhere they wanted. She was interested in seeing what kind of damage she had done with her rock. She was interested in seeing the room matched her memories of it. But mostly, it just seemed like the right place to talk to him.

“Look at that,” laughed Jim as he pointed to the window.

“Yup.”

Pam was glad that he didn't seem to be too angry. The bottom glass window pane was completely shattered, and the blinds wafted lazily as the breeze came in from outside. The glint of glass shards lying on the carpet caught Pam's eye, and she instinctively grabbed Jim by the arm to keep him from stepping too close. “Watch out!” she said.

“Thanks.”

Jim sat down on the side of his bed, still looking at little shell shocked at the sight of his broken window. The light in his room had been turned off. Pam wondered if she had really woken him up with the sound of shattering glass. There was a long silence between them as she looked down at her best friend, still standing beside the bed. He returned her stare.

She knew it was now or never. She knew she needed to say something - anything.

The icy fear which had gripped her earlier flattened out, stomped down by a surge of sheer willpower as she sat down beside Jim. Instinctively, automatically, she drew herself closer and threw one arm around him, the other keeping her balance on the bed. Jim made a muffled sound as her lips joined his own. She kissed him. She kissed him like it might be the last time she would ever kiss anybody. Like she was on fire, and Jim's lips were the only way to put it out. She said exactly what she needed to say, and when she let Jim go, the fear was gone.

“Whoa.”

Pam smiled. Jim's sentiments were about the same as hers.

“Uh - is that what you came here for?”

She nodded.

“I mean, I'm not complaining.”

She looked into Jim's eyes, and while she knew the kiss had told him everything, she still had to make sure.

“Jim, don't quit.”

Something traveled between them, and Jim gave a little twitch, as if an electric current had gone through him.

“Why not?” he finally asked.

“It took me a long time to admit it, but I love you. Going back to the office without you, it's just - I need you there with me. I need you.”

As her words hung in the air, Pam waited for what seemed like forever. Whatever Jim said, whatever he decided, she could already feel a weight lifting away from her. The breeze came through the window a little stronger, and she wondered if she was in danger of floating away. No longer would she be indecisive and cowardly. Pam had told Jim the truth. Now the ball was in his court. She waited for his answer.

“Alright,” he said.

Pam smiled, but her response was cut off by another kiss.

This time it was Jim who took Pam in his arms and kissed her insistently. She was still a little cold from standing outside, and she felt the warmth of his arms around her, pulling her in closer. His clothing, his bare skin, brushed against her as he gathered her up. It was amazing how she could know him for years, standing inches away from him, more times than she could count, and yet never really experience him until now. Not the way she was experiencing him now.

She had imagined it before, but this was the real thing. He had a smell. He had a feel, a taste. The two of them sank down on the bed, intertwined, and Pam felt the tips of his fingers on her back as they kissed. Jim was on top for a moment, but she pressed up closer and turned him over as she grasped hungrily at him. Her hair was loose, it was everywhere, and it fell down over his face like a veil as they gave in to each other. She felt like she was meeting Jim for the first time.

As far as first impressions went, it was a pretty good one.

“I want to stay here,” she said as they clung closely to each other.

“For the night? What about-”

“It's over with him. I just want you now.”

Jim was silent, but Pam felt a little squeeze that told her he felt the same. The two of them lay quietly in bed together, sharing the occasional kiss as they floated in and out of a haze. Pam felt a breath of cold air against her back, coming from Jim's broken window. She smiled. It might end up being cold in Jim's room tonight, thanks to her. She was about to say something about it when Jim, reading her mind – or probably just feeling the same cold air – reached down and pulled a blanket over them. Pam snuggled up closer beneath the sheets.

Warm or cold, it didn't matter. She felt perfect.

Back to Work
.....


The accountants of Dunder Mifflin's Scranton branch should have been hard at work, but today they were gathered in the Annex, their work left undone. It wasn't much different than any other Monday, actually. Oscar liked to think that he was a hard-working accountant, and he knew that Angela felt the same way about herself, as she constantly let Kevin know about it. But it wasn't like accounting for the Scranton branch took up every single minute of eight hours a day, five days a week. Even with he and Angela picking up Kevin's constant slack, they always had some time to loaf. Playing paper football games with Kevin, for instance. And today, there was more than enough gossip to go around.

“So it's official?” asked Kevin.

Toby nodded at his guests from accounting. “Yes, he called me up on the weekend and asked if he could cancel the whole thing. I'll have to backtrack on a lot of paperwork, so it's a little annoying, but I guess people change their minds sometimes. Jim is back for good.”

“I wonder why he changed his mind,” said Kelly, who was also listening in on the conversation with Ryan beside her. Oscar had his thoughts, but surprisingly, Angela beat him to the chase.

“I saw Roy downstairs looking unhappy,” she said. “I didn't ask what happened, but I can't help but wonder if Pam did something with Jim. She always has her eye on any guy that looks her way, after all.”

Oscar stifled a chuckle. Even though, deep down, he was fond of Angela, she was a total pain in the ass. She insisted that she had no interest in gossip, but she was more than happy to join in with Oscar and Kevin after putting up some token resistance.

The gossip in question had started almost as soon as Oscar got to work. On his way into the office, he had noticed Jim's car pulling up, at which point Jim had come out and greeted him, joining him in the elevator and coming into the office with him. Oscar was pretty sure Jim had a couple of days left before his two weeks were up, but at the same time, he thought he had heard Jim say something about not coming back after Friday. Once in the office, Jim had disappeared into Michael's room. Judging by the muffled screams of joy that came moments later from inside the closed door, Oscar's guess was that Jim had decided not to quit after all. Now it was confirmed.

“Karen's not here today either,” Oscar pointed out. “Has she ever been late before?”

“She left the branch,” said Toby. Kelly gasped in shock, and Toby let out a faint grin, apparently pleased to have surprising gossip to share. “She's in New York right now. I think she's interviewing for Jan's job, since Jan got fired, and she told me she'd probably just look for something else if she didn't get that.”

“You think she was trying to get away from Jim?” asked Kelly.

“She seemed pretty into him too,” Ryan pointed out. “I know from, uh – from watching her. There had to be some reason for the breakup. And my money's on Jim and Pam making whoopee.”

“That'd be totally hot,” said Kevin.

“Alright, that's a bit too far.”

Kevin rolled his eyes at Toby. “Come on man, grow up! People get their freak on all the time.”

“It's true,” said Phyllis. “I've been waiting for those two to hook up forever.”

Oscar did a double take at Phyllis. Not that her comment was that unusual, but he didn't even realize she was there. He thought she had been sitting in the main office; maybe she just had a nose for gossip.

“I'm telling you,” said Kevin, “I've been watching both of them like a hawk. And I'm good at watching, see?” Kevin demonstrated with a very brief but intense stare at several of his coworkers. He was good, Oscar had to admit. “They've been acting fishy all day. Looking at each other all the time, chatting at the receptionist's desk, smiling a bunch. There's no way it could be anything else.”

“They do that all the time,” Angela pointed out.

“Not lately. Only before Jim left for Stamford, remember?”

Angela shrugged, which was as close to a concession as Kevin would ever get from her. Angela had already suggested that she thought Jim and Pam were together, anyway; she just didn't like to admit when Kevin had a point.

“And why else would Jim decide to stay all of a sudden? It has to be Pam asking him to stay.”

Ryan shook his head warningly. “I dunno, he seems like a pretty indecisive guy. Maybe he just changed his mind.”

“Okay guys,” said Toby, “I know this is interesting, but I think it's probably time everybody gets back to work. We all have things to do. And to be honest, this conversation is a little inappropriate anyway. What Jim and Pam are up to is their business.”

Kevin scoffed at Toby's tongue-wagging. “Whatever man,” he said. “You've totally been enabling us.”

“What? No I haven't!”

“You're the one who just confirmed Jim's back. You're like the epicenter of the gossip.”

“You're a gossip queen,” said Oscar, surprised to find himself amused at Toby's obvious discomfort.

“Funny you should say that,” said Kevin. “Because, like, queen.”

“That's clever, Kevin.”

“But see, it's all you Toby! You're a total gossip queen! We're all literally gathered around you!”

Toby blanched at Kevin's accusation. “That doesn't mean anything. Back to your seats, everyone.”

Kevin grumbled a little, but there wasn't much else to say anyway. Oscar gave him a sympathetic pat on the back; Kevin clearly wasn't ready to give up gossip and get to actual work, and Oscar couldn't help but share his sentiments. Ryan and Kelly returned to their cubicle as Toby swiveled back to his desk, looking a little nervous as a result of Kevin's accusations that he had been gossip-mongering with the rest of them.

Leading the way, Oscar led his two fellow accountants out of the Annex, through the kitchen, and back to the main office. He passed Jim's desk on his way to his seat; Pam looked up suspiciously, as if noting how strange it was that all three accountants were returning from another room at the same time. Oscar was wondering if she knew something was up when he heard Kevin speak up behind him.

“Hey Jim,” said Kevin.

Oscar turned around and saw Kevin standing beside Jim's desk, who looked up at the greeting. He anticipated something awkward, seeing as Kevin had about as much tact as Angela, even if he was nicer overall.

“Yes, Kevin?”

“Are you and Pam going out or something?”

The office fell silent. Not that it had been very loud in the first place. Meredith stopped sipping on her plastic cup, Creed looked up from what must have been some kind of stupor, and even Dwight raised his eyebrows, intrigued. Oscar jumped a little as Michael's door suddenly flew open. Michael stood in the doorway, his eyes wide.

“Us?” asked Jim. “Going out?”

Jim looked over at Pam and gave a nervous laugh, to which Pam responded with her own laugh and a helpless shrug. Jim looked around at his coworkers as if asking whether they were really that interested. It was obvious they were.

“We're – well, I mean, we're – yes. Yes, we're going out.”

A murmur rose up from around the office. Oscar thought he heard Creed say something lewd from his desk near the back, although he couldn't be sure. He was about to congratulate the two of them when Michael suddenly leaped on Jim, grabbing him and squeezing him in his arms.

“Oh my god,” he said. “I never would have guessed! This is amazing! Cupid has planted his seed deep inside both of you. I knew it all along. This is such a surprise!”

“Michael, I can't breathe.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Michael released Jim from his grip and stood back, trying to hold back tears. “This is just like me and Jan,” he said. “I mean, before things got really weird and I had to break up with her, because of how she was with the sex and everything. But still, I kind of miss her.”

As Michael stared off into space, everyone waited patiently for the awkwardness to be over..

“Michael,” said Oscar, “I'm not sure if that's a good comparison.”

“No. No, Oscar, it was just like Jim and Pam. It was the romance of the twentieth century.”

“Twenty-first, Michael.”

“Stop being jealous, Oscar. You'll find a man sooner or later.”

“Michael, you're not even with-”

Oscar gave up trying to be reasonable, as Michael was ignoring him and Kevin was tittering at his last comment. Strangely enough, although Michael was mostly talking nonsense, Oscar realized that he had inadvertently said something true. Oscar did feel a little bit jealous. He had been waiting for Jim and Pam to see what was right in front of their faces all this time – watching the two of them swim in their own awkwardness on Friday at Poor Richard's was like torture - but apparently it had been an eventful weekend for the two of them.

Oscar watched as Michael forced Pam to leave her receptionist's desk and kiss Jim in front of the office. Normally it would be verging on some bizarre form of sexual harassment, but despite Michael's best attempts to warp the good news, Oscar could tell that Jim and Pam were in the early stages of something new and exciting. Pam didn't want to kiss Jim in public, but once she gave up trying to avoid being herded towards him by Michael, the two of them still kissed each other happily, ignoring their boss as he clapped wildly behind them.

Although he was a little jealous when he thought of his own highly imperfect relationship with Gil, Oscar couldn't help but feel happy for Jim and Pam. They were a cute couple. Just looking at them put Oscar in a good mood that drowned out any hints of envy. It was nice to see two people finally find each other. Maybe Pam had been off to see the wizard over the weekend, because she had definitely gained a little courage.

.....

“Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.”

The familiar refrain made Jim glance up from his work. Pam was on the phone, but she stuck her tongue out when she noticed him looking. He smiled, and just before he returned his attention to his computer, he noticed Dwight mocking his expression out of the corner of his eye. In a weird way, it was encouraging to see Dwight being a jerk. His behavior in Michael's office when the two of them had been apologizing was unnerving. Jim had gotten so used to Dwight being a pain that he almost didn't realize how much of a fixture it had become in his life. A fixture which wouldn't be going away anytime soon, now that he wasn't leaving after all. At least not quite so soon.

“Hey Dwight,” he said. “Did I ever thank you for apologizing for what you did? I didn't think you had it in you.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” said Dwight.

“You're welcome.”

“Whatever, Jim. Leave me alone.”

Jim nodded in acquiescence. Apparently, now that Dwight was assured that Jim wouldn't be leaving, he was back to his usual jerkiness. Jim got the feeling that he'd be more hesitant to back up Michael if he ever lied in the future, however. And hopefully Michael himself had learned a little bit from the whole affair. Michael had been periodically coming out of his office and making small talk, even asking Jim to lunch earlier, but Jim had to turn him down as he already had a lunch date with Pam. He looked at her again, unable to resist. He must have looked at her a hundred times already that morning.

The weekend had been a whirlwind - while Jim had called poor Toby to make sure there were no problems with backing out of his two week's notice at the last moment, most of the weekend had been spent with Pam. It was like they were moving through the beginning of their relationship at lightning speed; like they had already been so familiar with each other that they didn't need to worry about those tentative first steps. The two of them had jumped right into the deep end, and Jim was enjoying every minute of it.

Pam, once again, returned his look with a smile, but this time she suddenly jerked her head to the left, staring in shock at the office doorway. Jim couldn't see around the corner, but his question was answered a second later when Andy Bernard appeared, coming up to Pam's receptionist's desk and tapping on it in greeting.

“Hello, Pamster!”

“Andy! You're back?”

“Sure am. Got out of anger management a bit early due to good behavior. Er, not that it was like prison or anything. Just kind of an informal team seminar kind of a thing. But Andy Bernard is back for good! What's the haps, everybody?”

Andy turned to the office with an overly theatrical wave, and Dwight leaped up on his feet, the chair clattering behind him. He reached underneath his desk and pulled out something that looked like a throwing star right before Jim leaped up himself and held his hands out at Dwight.

“Dwight, sit down!”

“I am Assistant Regional Manager, and it is my job to protect every-”

“That's to the Regional Manager, and you have to sit down.”

“Jim, I-”

“Sit!”

Changing the command to sound like something one would give a dog seemed to do the trick. Dwight gave Andy a piercing glare, then looked at Jim for a moment before finally sitting back down and muttering faintly. The impending disaster was averted. All the hubbub caused Michael to come out of his office, and he stopped abruptly at the sight of Andy.

“Oh. You're back. Already.”

“Sure am, boss! New and improved, same old guy. Call me Drew.”

“I will not be doing that.”

“Okay,” said Andy, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second. “That's cool. You're the boss. So, uh, where should I be sitting?”

“Take Karen's old seat,” said Michael. “It's free since Jim broke her heart and left her for Pam. Just kidding, man,” laughed Michael as he slapped a silent Jim on the back.

“Dude, you and Pam are going out now?”

“Yup.”

“Congratulations, tuna! Looks like the early fish caught the worm!”

“What?”

Andy continued smiling as he sat down in the empty desk where Karen had once been, opening his briefcase and taking some personal belongings out to use for decorations. Jim watched him out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to attract too much attention. A new relationship with Pam, and now Andy Bernard returning to the office. God giveth, and God taketh away, thought Jim. Maybe Andy would be a little less annoying now that he had spent some time mellowing out in anger management training, but somehow Jim doubted it.

Behind the receptionist's desk, Jim noticed Kevin emerge from the accountant's corner and walk towards him. He girded himself for more probing and uncomfortable questions about his relationship with Pam – Kevin had already visited him several times that morning – but instead, Kevin bypassed him entirely and stopped by Andy's desk to say hello. Jim smiled as the two of them began to chat. Maybe Andy's return was a blessing in disguise. He and Pam hadn't really intended to go public so soon with the fact that they were an item, as they didn't really want the attention. Andy had arrived just in time to soak it all up, which meant that Jim was free to focus on his own distraction.

And with a certain Dunder Mifflin receptionist sitting a few yards away from him, it didn't matter if Jim was back on the job; there was no way he was getting any work done anytime soon.

.....

The way Jim sat buried in his menu was possibly the cutest thing Pam had ever seen. She watched him as he intently studied Cugino's lunch options, his eyes visible from over the plastic menu's top as they shifted from item to item. Why is he so absorbed in the menu? she wondered. Maybe it was because he was looking for the same thing he always got, if it was available, but couldn't find it here. Pam had checked her own menu; it definitely wasn't showing up anywhere. Not even in the kid's section.

“Are you guys ready to order?” asked the waitress.

“Do you have a ham and cheese sandwich?”

Pam snorted, at which Jim narrowed his eyes indignantly at her.

“I'm afraid we don't, sir.”

“Okay. Um, I'll just get the spinach calzone.”

Jim folded up his menu, and after Pam gave her own order and menu to the waitress, the two of them were left alone at their table. Pam stared incredulously at Jim. 'A spinach calzone?” she asked him. “Somebody's going crazy today, huh?”

“Hey, it's not like I always eat a ham and cheese sandwich. Come on.”

“Um, I think it's pretty close to always.”

The two of them grew quiet for a moment as they waited for their meal, but it was not an awkward silence. That was one of the many things Pam liked about being around Jim; even when they had nothing to say, she felt completely comfortable around him. Not that they didn't have anything to talk about today. For a Monday, things had been eventful so far. Their relationship had been the talk of the office until Andy came in, which in itself had been a surprise. His new persona cracked Pam up, although she got the feeling he was just trying too hard on his first day back. He still seemed like the same old Andy Bernard, in the end.

“You know what?”

Pam looked at Jim, who was casting an eye over the restaurant. “What?” she asked.

“This was kind of where we had our first date.”

Pam frowned for a moment, trying to figure out what he meant.

“Our first date... wasn't that, like, Friday night? Or Saturday? I'm not sure what counts as a first date, exactly.”

“It wasn't an official date,” said Jim. “It was the first time we went out to lunch, remember?”

Their first lunch together had been a long time ago, but Pam remembered it quickly. “Oh yeah,” she said. “That was a lot of fun. But I was still with Roy.”

“Yeah, I sort of thought it was a date though. Before I found out you were taken, I mean. It was kind of a shock, but I guess I've still sort of thought of it as our first date ever since then.”

“Interesting,” said Pam. “And I wasn't really taken, you know.”

“I guess not.”

Their meals arrived after another few minutes of waiting. There wasn't really enough time to eat at Cugino's during a lunch break, since it was in Dunmore and you had to wait for your meal, but Pam didn't mind. She and Jim were enjoying themselves, and one of the benefits of working in an office run by Michael Scott was that you could take hour and a half long lunch breaks, come back, and rest assured that your boss would be oblivious. The two of them dug into their meals. Although it wasn't a ham and cheese sandwich, Pam was happy to see that her boyfriend liked his adventurous choice of calzone.

Her boyfriend. The word lingered in her mind. It sounded nice.

Pam wondered if Jim was jumping into things as quickly as she felt herself jumping in. They had only gotten together on Friday night, but somehow Pam already felt like they had been going out for a long time. She had been hesitant to call Roy her boyfriend when she first started going out with him, she remembered, arguing with herself over what the word meant and how much commitment it implied. But with Jim, she seemed to have no doubt in her mind. He was definitely her boyfriend.

Maybe it was all the time they had already spent together. Or the fact that, now that they were together, Pam realized she had been head over heels for Jim for a long time, even if she was in denial about it. What had seemed to complicated in the past was now simple, clear as day. She even found herself thinking about what her boyfriend might become in the future.

“I kind of feel bad for Karen,” said Pam. “You know she tried to get me to tell you how I felt about you?”

“No kidding?”

“Yup. I was surprised.”

“That's pretty much why she broke up with me, I guess. She knew I liked you.”

“I guess we should thank her sometime.”

“Well,” said Jim after fanning his mouth from a bite of a hot calzone, “if she gets that job in corporate, technically she'll be Michael's boss and end up coming to Scranton sometimes, so I'm sure we'll get the chance.”

“Do you think she's going to get it?”

“Probably. I'm not taking it, and I heard Michael sabotaged Ryan's chances so he'd stay in Scranton.”

“Poor Ryan,” laughed Pam.

“Don't make fun of them, they really have something magical together.”

“Sorry. I'm just jealous of their love.”

“I don't blame you. I mean, being with you is okay and all, but what they have – it's one in a million.”

Pam almost choked on her food from laughing.

“Maybe that's why Michael broke up with Jan,” said Pam. “Lots of people switching around lately.”

The two of them kept laughing, although Pam felt a little guilty about it. Poor Ryan and Michael both. Although, she reminded herself, Michael freeing himself from Jan was probably a good thing.

After their laughter subsided, Pam managed to dig into her food a little more. She found her thoughts turning to more serious matters as the conversation turned to people leaving – or not leaving – the Scranton branch. “Jim,” she asked, “tell me seriously, did you turn down an interview for corporate because of me? I mean I know I asked you to stay, and I'm totally glad you're staying, but I guess I'd just feel a little guilty if you didn't take an opportunity because of me.”

“Well, it is because of you, mostly,” said Jim. “But that's not a bad thing. It's my choice, and I decided I'd rather stay with you here. There are other jobs out there, but I don't think there are other Pams.”

“There's lots of girls named Pam, Jim. Take your pick.”

“Already did.”

Pam grinned.

“But you are fine with it?”

“Staying here? Definitely. I honestly think I just decided to quit because I didn't know what else to do if you were getting back together with Roy. I guess it was a ploy to get your attention.”

“It did.”

“Then my plan is complete!” said Jim with a cackle as he wrung his hands together theatrically. Pam rolled her eyes at his dorky humor, and Jim continued with his explanation. “The thing is, I didn't really make any plans for what I'd do if I quit, and I sort of think I'd miss all the crazy stuff that goes on at Scranton. Michael and Dwight can be a lot of fun when they're not too riled up, after all. And I don't think I'm the type for corporate.”

“We should think about getting out of here eventually, though,” said Pam.

Just for a moment, she felt a flash of hesitancy when she heard herself use the word 'we'. Was it presumptuous of her to include Jim in her future plans already? Would Jim catch it? Was she being overbearing?

“Definitely,” agreed Jim. “I'm happy being right here with you, but we'll figure everything out when we get to it.”

Pam gave a little sigh of relief. Jim felt the same way she did.

“Speaking of the future,” said Jim, “you given any thought to art school? Maybe Dunder Mifflin still has that program you were talking about a while ago, remember?”

Pam nodded. She did remember. Come to think of it, she had completely forgotten about her art class over the weekend; she'd have to apologize to her teacher when she came to the next one. Jim had crowded out the rest of her thoughts over the last couple of days, but now that he mentioned it, art school definitely seemed like a possibility. She had pushed it away from her mind for a while, but there was nothing holding her back now.

"What would you think if I went?” she asked Jim.

“Well, hopefully you don't start tomorrow, because I think I'd miss you too much,” said Jim.

Pam laughed. “Right.”

“But if you want to, you should definitely go sometime. I think you'd do a good job. You're a great artist. And I'd be behind you all the way. Oh - speaking of which, I'm really sorry about missing your art show a couple weeks ago.”

Pam was surprised to hear Jim bring it up; she had almost forgotten about the art show. “It's alright,” she said.

“Karen wanted me to spend time with her that night, but it wasn't really her fault. I guess I was avoiding it because I knew how much it meant to you. It's weird – it was like I knew if I went, there was no way I'd be able to pretend things would work with her. It would be like I was admitting I couldn't get over you. I was lying to myself, and going to the art show when you were so excited about it would be like forcing myself to see the truth. Things would be too obvious.”

Pam could see where he was coming from. She definitely preferred his explanation to some of the things she had imagined, like maybe Jim didn't understand what it meant to her, or he just didn't care. But neither of things made any sense, when she actually thought about Jim. She knew him too well to believe those things, even if she let her insecurities get the better of her sometimes. She thought it was amusing that Jim's absence at the show had said more about his feelings for her than Roy's presence. But that was in the past.

“I'm sure I'll have more art shows in the future,” she said. “Don't you worry.”

“Just you watch. I'll be at every single one.”

Pam smiled. It was just what she wanted to hear. She knew that Jim would be there for her, whatever she chose to do. And she would be there for him. She shared Jim's feelings about wanting to take it easy and enjoy each other's company for a while, but art school was definitely a possibility for the future.

She drank the last sips of her water, her plate empty, and looked at the time on her watch as Jim finished his own meal. The waitress came and gave them their bill as their lunch drew to a close, returning a moment later after taking their credit cards. Pam signed her receipt and thought about the rest of the day. The future looked bright. But right now, she and Jim had to get back to the office.

“Done?” she asked

“Yup. You ready to go?”

Pam nodded, and the two of them left a tip before leaving the restaurant.

As they walked through the door, Pam reached out to grab Jim's hand in her own, but found him halfway there already. It was a dreary looking Monday outside, and Pam had a lot of things to do when she got back, but she was so happy she thought she might explode. For a new week, this wasn't half bad. She couldn't remember ever being so happy to go back to work.

.....