In the dim, yellow light of the elevator, it was just Jim and Pam and the silence left over from the day where Karen had announced her transfer; and Pam had known by the stiffness in Jim's neck that it was the end of his and Karen's story together.

Pam hadn't known what to say, so she hadn't said anything still when they found themselves alone in the elevator together at the end of the day, while the doors closed, and they stood close. He let out a sigh, and she knew he was troubled, and his hand was already lightly brushing against hers in between them like a tentative kiss, so she reached her pinky out and curled it around his.

And as she met his eyes in the slightly warped metal surface of the elevator doors, he squeezed once, then again, as if he was restless. And as the elevator car was settling itself on the ground floor, Pam turned herself to face him, pinky twisting around his until the palms of their pinky-joined hands were together, fingers weaved like an intricate tapestry.

Her momentum pushed their bodies together to make a flattened circle. A hug without arms, which didn't last long with Jim holding tight to her hands and wrapping both sets behind her back, just enough so that he could pull her to him, completely defenseless now.

The elevator doors opened, and they turned as one to look out on the world before them.