Pam's fingers found the soft curls behind Jim's ears, and he pulled her so close she was sure he could feel her rapidly beating heart. But even her heart wasn't racing as fast as her head. Jim's kissing me. His hair is so soft. He engaged, this is wrong. So soft, would he laugh if I told him how long I've been wanting to kiss him. I wonder if he's thought about kissing me? I'm pretty sure he has. His hands are warm. God, this hair, what shampoo does he use? Did he notice I softened my curls tonight? I wish I was wearing something sexier than this stupid bridesmaid dress. Jesus, Beesly, he's a man, and he's kissing you, he is not thinking about your dress. What if someone walks in and sees us? God, he's such an amazing kisser

Pam didn't know who pulled away first, but his arms were still around her, and her hands dropped from his neck to his shoulders. When she looked at his eyes, he looked stunned and maybe a little guilty, but a glance at his still-parted lips sent a shock wave down her spine.

The hum of the idling computers around them was interrupted by a muffled ring tone. Jim didn't seem to hear it; his eyes were still locked with Pam's and his hands were still holding her close to him, but the tinny melody sounded very loud in Pam's ears.

"You want to get that?" she reluctantly whispered.

Jim chuckled softly, and finally released Pam from his embrace. Pam took a step back and turned away as his flipped open his phone.

"Hey Lis … yeah, still at work … Sure, I can pick that up on my way home … Soon, probably. Okay … love you too."

That "love you too" sent a stab to Pam's chest, and she crossed her arms, shoulders slumped as Jim slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"Sorry," she said.

"You already apologized for the first one," Jim answered quietly, "and I'm pretty sure that second one was my fault." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his desk.

Pam started rubbing the back of her arms. "What did Lisa want?" Bringing up the call was for the best, Pam told herself, they both needed to be reminded of the reality of the situation.

Jim was silent for a few seconds. "Um, milk, cereal, breakfast things."

Pam rubbed the back of her arms harder. "You should go do that."

Another moment quietly passed before Jim started to nod, "Yeah."

Pam felt his eyes on her as she walked to reception to get her purse and jacket. She had already packed up and taken home what she wanted to keep out of her desk. The fate of the rest of the items would be up to the next receptionist, including the jelly bean dispenser. She glanced to the counter area next to the dispenser and smiled, remembering the countless times Jim leaned forward on her desk and how seeing his rolled up sleeves and bare forearms always gave her a little thrill.

"Pam," Jim called out softly.

Pam looked at Jim, still standing near his desk with his hands in his pockets. She could sense he was panicking a little, like he had built up enough courage to get her attention, but not quite enough to say what he wanted to say. She had done the same thing dozens of times.

He took a deep breath and smiled slightly. "Have fun in Italy."

Pam nodded, saddened by the sweet, safe, and somewhat impersonal remark, but knowing that he didn't really have a choice. "Good-bye, Jim."

"Bye Pam."

With her hand on the door knob, Pam paused, memories of her three years here at this small paper company flooding her mind. Pranks on Dwight, lunches in the break room, constantly conspiring with Jim on the best ways to do anything besides work, it really wasn't all that bad. I can't stay, she reminded herself, there's nothing for me here.

As the door of Dunder-Mifflin Scranton latched behind her, perhaps for the last time, tears once again filled Pam's eyes.

Jim gazed around his Corolla, not entirely remembering how he managed to get home. He remembered standing alone in the office after Pam left, though he couldn't say how long, then running into Michael in the lobby, then hearing the bagger at the grocery store ask "Paper or plastic", and then sitting here in the driveway. He was about to turn off the car when a familiar song came on his iPod.

Baby, you've been going so crazy,
Lately nothing seems to be going right.

Jim scratched an itch on the side of his nose then absently touched his lips as he thought back to last November when he and Pam listened to this song outside the office building. He remembered standing so close to her as they shared his ear-buds, watching her gently sway to the rhythm and telling himself he was shivering because it was cold.

Jim had told himself a lot of things in the past year. He told himself the pang in his chest when he saw Pam leave for lunch with a numbskull warehouse worker named Roy wasn't jealousy, but rather a brotherly concern that she was going out with someone Jim knew wasn't right for her. He told himself the rush he felt after every prank was from a sense of accomplishment for tricking Dwight once again and not from seeing Pam's mischievously beautiful smile. Even now, he was trying to convince himself kissing her not even an hour ago was a spur-of-the-moment event stemming from some urge to have one last little fling before he got married and not something he had thought about more than a few times.

Colder, crying over your shoulder,
Hold her, tell her everything's gonna be fine.

The melody abruptly stopped when Jim turned the car key, and he grabbed his iPod and the bag of groceries to go inside. He found Casey, their Golden Retriever, sleeping on the area rug and Lisa sitting on the couch, dressed in sweats and watching the news. "Hey," she said, getting off the couch and taking the milk out of his hands.

"Hey," he replied, following her to the kitchen and setting the grocery bag on the counter top.

"Get any more gambling in?" Lisa asked, putting the milk in the refrigerator.

Jim shook his head, "Nah, things started winding down soon after you left."

Lisa looked at him and tilted her head to the side. "You okay?"

Jim snapped his head to Lisa's face, his heart-rate increasing. He should have known she would immediately sense something wasn't right. "Um," it was useless to try to deny something was up, so he settled for telling her at least part of the truth. "Right after you left, Pam told me she's leaving Dunder-Mifflin." He shrugged, "Kind of sad, I guess, saying good-bye to her."

"Oh," Lisa said in a sympathetic tone. "I hope we can stay in touch with her. You guys were such good work buddies."

Jim nodded, "Yeah." Lisa didn't ask anything else, so Jim was silent as he put the rest of the groceries away. "Well, I'm beat." He leaned over and gave Lisa a quick peck on the lips. "I'm heading to bed."

"Okay, I think I'm going to read for a little bit," Lisa said, walking back to the couch. "Night," she called after Jim.

"Good night," Jim replied.

It wasn't a good night, though. Jim would close his eyes and be on the verge of nodding off when Pam would reenter his mind. Long after Lisa had come to bed and fallen asleep, Jim was still awake, unable to purge Pam's green eyes or the way she smelled of vanilla from his thoughts. He wasn't sure if his alarm clock read 2 or 3 a.m. when he finally drifted off to sleep.