Inside his cold car, Jim quickly scrolled through to the last song.

“You used to talk to me like / I was the only one around. / You used to lean on me like / The only other choice was falling down.”

Jim smiled, shook his head a little. An American Idol guy, really? Wow. But she wanted him to hear it, so tried to keep an open mind.

“We used to have this figured out; / We used to breathe without a doubt. / When nights were clear, you were the first star that I'd see. / We used to have this under control. / We never thought. / We used to know. / At least there's you, and at least there's me. / Can we get this back? / Can we get this back to how it used to be?”

That’s what she wanted? He missed her, but not enough to pretend to be just friends again. He’d sooner transfer again. Maybe Albany needed a new ARM.

“I look around me, / And I want you to be there / 'Cause I miss the things that we shared. / Look around you. / It's empty, and you're sad / 'Cause you miss the love that we had.”

Jim was so wrapped up in his own dark thoughts that he barely heard “the love that we had.” He had to rewind it to hear that verse again. He yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed before the song had ended.

“Dunder-Mifflin, this is Pam.”

“Beesly, get your ass down here.”

“What?”

“You heard me, get down here.” Jim hung up and glanced at his watch again. Ten minutes. He tossed the iPod into the glove compartment and popped out of his car. He crossed the parking lot and stood just to the right of the door, out of sight of the lobby.

Pam came through the doors a minute later, looking puzzled.

She caught sight of him and approached cautiously, twisting her bare hands together. “Halpert, you do know the meeting’s starting like right now?”

The meeting was the furthest thing from his mind at that moment. “I listened to your song.”

She stopped. “Oh?”

Jim glanced over her shoulder. No cameramen followed her. Excellent. “Really, Beesly, American Idol?” He closed the distance between them. She looked ridiculously cute in her pink coat, her cheeks even pinker from the cold.

She shrugged. “The guy who used to find great bands for me moved away.” He could read the question in her eyes now, plain as day. Is it too late for us? How had he not noticed it sooner? It had been there the entire time he’d been back from Stamford. He just never understood it until now.

“Next you’ll be telling me you like country.” He reached up touch her face, gently, with one hand and pulled her closer with the other hand. She didn’t seem to be breathing, waiting to see where this was going. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Honestly, what am I going to do with you?” Then he kissed her.

Her cold hands came up to tangle in his hair, and she kissed back, her mouth warm and soft on his.

Jim’s phone rang. Reluctantly, he pulled away and glanced at the caller ID. “Michael.”

“We should go.” She didn’t look like she wanted to go anywhere. In fact, she stretched up to kiss him again.

“Someone has to rescue them from Michael.” He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

Pam’s eyes widened, and as she smiled up at him it struck him just how much he’d missed that smile. “What’s the plan?”

“Have a little faith, Beesly. Just follow my lead, okay?” He smiled and led her back into the building.

Neither saw the cameraman shooting from a second-floor window.