December 16, 2002, 7:30 AM:

Last week before vacation. Thank God that Michael is pretty religious and gave us the entire week off for Christmas instead of just the day. I mean, I’m Catholic but I’m not that into the holiday. It’s okay; time off is time off and after being at Dunder-Mifflin for almost a year… well, I started in March and it’s December… close enough… I deserve a good, long break.

Damn, why have I just been laying in bed for the last 15 minutes? At least Roy isn’t snoring… wait… yup, spoke too soon. Oh, geez, now he’s rolling in the bed… Forget it. I’m getting up.

I might as well check my e-mail before work. Michael’s so strict with the Internet. He put this monitoring system. Of course, it was Kevin who suggested it. He’s such a prude. Seriously? The guy should have been a monk or something. Every once in a while, I get anonymous notes on my desk saying that I should button my shirt all the way to the top or that I should wear a longer skirt or that my sweater is too tight. I know that it’s him. I mean, who else would it be?

Apparently, someone in the office loves doing e-mail forwards and some people find them fairly offensive. I have to admit some of them are actually pretty funny. Stupid Jim.

December 17, 2002, 3:28 PM:

“May I help you, Dwight?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the last few minutes.”

“Well, I was just waiting to see if that thing on your forehead will move.” He smiles as I roll my eyes and get up.

“You’re so immature.” Of course, I have to flick his ear as I walk by. Seriously though, I thought once you pass a certain age, you don’t get pimples anymore. I head to the bathroom and look in the mirror. God! I swear, it got bigger and redder since this morning. It’s like right in the middle of my forehead, too. Maybe if I try and cover it with my hair… yeah, that looks worse. I look like a kid with a bowl cut. Guh… maybe Angela has something.

Damn, she’s on the phone. And yeah, getting the disapproving look from Kevin. Angela told me that he called her a hussy one time. Okay, I’m leaving… Maybe Beesly. If she’s in a good mood.

Pam’s like a faucet. She can be hot and cold, depending on the day. I don’t think Michael’s bothered her today, so I might be in the clear.

“Hey.” I take a jellybean from the candy container.

“Those aren’t for you.” Okay, maybe she’s cold at the moment. “What do you want?” she adds. Looks like she’s more lukewarm…

“I know that you’re going to laugh but—“

“Is this about the giant thing that’s taking over your face? And no, I don’t mean your nose.” Wow… she’s just a little spitfire today.

“Ha. Very funny. I’m guessing you haven’t gotten any from Roy lately. I’ve heard that lack of sex makes women very cranky, especially when the guy is getting it from someone else.” What the fuck, Halpert?! Did you just really say that? Apologize! Now! “Um… listen, Pam, I didn’t—“

“You’re a dick, Jim!” And there she goes, running out the door.

“James, what just happened?” Great. Now, Michael’s involved. BS the best you can, Jim.

“I told her that she wore the same sweater last week and I guess she took it the wrong way.” Smooth, Halpert.

“She can be awfully sensitive in terms of her clothes. Please don’t do that again. However, when she comes back in, send her to my office so that I can get her side of the story.” I’m screwed.

“Yes, sir.” Very, very screwed.

December 18, 2002, 2:29 AM:

I hate the fact that Jim’s comment is doing this to me. Roy’s not cheating on me. We have plenty of sex. No, not a lot recently, but we have sex. Midnight showing of Lord of the Rings. That’s where Roy is. He’s there with Darryl. He’ll be back soon. The movie is three freakin’ hours long.

When Michael called me into his office after I got back, I caught a glimpse of Jim’s face. He looked so… so… sad. Angela told me one time that Jim’s very particular about his nose. I didn’t realized that he was that particular. It’s his sense of humor… he didn’t know that Roy and I weren’t having sex. Jim just decided to go for the shock factor. Then again, why am I defending him? Michael sat me down and asked me if Jim did anything wrong to me. I could have told the truth and knowing Michael, he would suspend Jim or even fire him. But it’s right before Christmas and then there’s Angela and… I told Michael that Jim was fine and that I just took a comment of his the wrong way. That I was overly sensitive about it. Strangely, Michael replied about not remembering me wearing my sweater last week. I didn’t question it, but just nodded and asked if I could leave.

When I got back to me desk, there was a bag of Sunchips and a note. Both from Jim… apologizing profusely. Saying that he there was anything that he can do to make up for it that he would. I have to make it a good one.

I hear a car door and go to look out the window. It’s Darryl dropping off Roy. Good, he was telling the truth after all. Roy wouldn’t cheat on me. He loves me too… Oh my God! What the hell?! No. No, no, no, no! It can’t be. It just can’t… Shit! Fucking shit!

December 19, 2002, 11: 35 AM:

Pam called in sick yesterday and she’s still not here today, either. I know that I shouldn’t be but I’m worried. I’m going to drive over to her place during lunch and check on her. That’s the least I can do for that terrible remark that I made on Tuesday. Maybe some flowers, too. Then again, I don’t know if she’s allergic. Chocolate? That won’t help if she’s throwing up. A can of soup and a box of tissues. Bingo!

Her place isn’t bad looking. A small Victorian house on the outskirts of the city. Her car is in the driveway. I kind-of look like a dork with a can of soup and a box of tissues. Oh well, it’s the least I can do. I ring the doorbell. Once. Twice. Three times. Okay, Jim, stop! The poor girl is probably in bed and it’ll take her a while…

She opens the door. “Hey.”

“Hi.” She looks a little sick. Eyes are puffy. Nose is red and stuffed up. “You weren’t in work the last few days and I was kind-of worried. Brought you some soup and tissues.”

“Thanks.” She opens the door wider and lets me in. Okay, this is strange. She’s being awfully friendly. I would have half-expected her to slam the door on me. Must be the drugs.

“This place is really nice.” It actually is. The craftsmanship of the wood is amazing. I spot the stain glass windows in the parlor on the right and they’re absolutely beautiful. My grandfather was a craftsman and I always loved going to their house and see all the pieces that he made. “How did you find this place?”

“It was my grandaunt’s. She left it to me in her will.” Nice, Beesly.

“So, what do you have?”

“A broken heart.” Wasn’t expecting that.

“Um… excuse me.”

“You were right about Roy.” Oh, no. Of all the things that I wanted to be right about, that was not one of them.

“Pam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I just said it because… well, it’s me. I’m stupid like that.”

“Yeah, it’s fine, Jim.” She sits down and motions me to sit down as well. “I should have seen the signs.”

“No one can predict for these things.” God, I feel so bad for her. I feel so evil, too. I practically predicted that this was happening. Roy’s not the best looking guy in the world. His personality is so-so. What girl would fall for him? Well, besides Pam.

“Well, it’s not really predicting. It’s more like getting my gaydar updated.” Um… what? She notices the look on my face and laughs. “Yeah… Roy’s gay. I saw him and Darryl kiss. And when I confronted him about it, he explained that he, somewhere along the way, realized that he was interested in men.” Wow…

“That’s… nice, Beesly, you turned a guy gay.” She’s actually very pretty when she laughs. I don’t see it that much.

“Well, I guess it could be worse. Anyways, you better get back before Michael goes ape-shit on your ass.” Weird phrase, but okay.

“Yeah. Will I see you tomorrow? It’s the annual Christmas party and believe me it’s ridiculous compared to the other parties that we have.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But I hate being on the Party Planning Committee. On Monday, Angela gave me a list of things I need to get and I just—“

“Give me the list. I’ll do it.” The least I can do at the moment.

“Really? Thanks.” She goes and grabs her purse from the kitchen. I take the list… all three pages of it, back and front. Oh, Angela… you think way too much about this. “Have fun.”

“I’ll try.” I get up and head towards the door. “See ya tomorrow, Beesly.”

“Sure thing, Halpert.”

December 20, 2002, 4:28 PM:

My first day back wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. Apparently, Jim thought of a great story to cover up the whole Roy fiasco. God, now I have to deal with the family during the holidays. At least the Christmas party isn’t so bad… it’s actually pretty good.

“Angela, this is really great.”

“Hee… thanks, Pam. That means a lot.” And she’s hugging me. I swear, the girl is just too freakin’ sweet. And hyper. Especially for someone who spent all night baking.

“So, what are your plans for Christmas?”

“Well, I’m heading to my grandma’s place in North Carolina. All the family is gathering there. We’re huge!” That’s what she said. Damnit, Jim!

“Are you taking Jim with you?”

“No. Which is sad because he actually planned a little winter getaway for us but I can’t go because I’m going to the family reunion thing. He can’t cancel either. So, he said that he’ll just take Dwight with him. Heh… if he wasn’t dating me, I swear those two were a couple.” Yeah… And she’s hugging me again and scurries off to talk to Meredith.

This place needs some alcohol. Of course, Michael’s not going to have alcohol at a company party so… where is Jim? I leave the conference room and head to the kitchen. Not there… wait, I hear voices from the Annex.

“So, here’s where the real party’s at.” I discover Jim, Dwight and Oscar plus a bottle of Smirnoff. Oscar hands me the bottle.

“Take a chug, Pam,” he slurs a little. I take a quick one before handing it back to Oscar, who proceeds to take a longer one. Dwight quickly takes the bottle from Oscar.

“Okay, I better drive this one home before Michael catches him.” He helps Oscar to his feet. “I’ll see you two after the break. Jim, I hope that you can find someone else to go with you. Merry Christmas, Pam!” Oscar mumbles something, too, as Dwight helps him out of the breakroom.

I wave to the two as Jim takes a swig of from the bottle. “Oscar Martinez. The office drunk.”

I sit down. “Well, he has to be. I mean, sitting with pious Kevin and hyper Angela, how else can he get through the day.”

“Exactly.” He passes me the bottle, which I just hold in my hands.

“So, I’m guessing Dwight’s not going with you on the ‘winter getaway’ that you had planned.”

“Heh… Angela told you about that.” I nod. “Yeah, Dwight’s mother is coming into town next week and the farmhouse is an absolute mess. Mose, Dwight’s cousin, is never home, so between the two of them, it just never gets cleaned, ya know?”

“I haven’t heard much about Mose.” I take a sip of the vodka and hand back the bottle to Jim.

“Well, he’s the biggest womanizer in Lackawanna County.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Jim chuckles as he takes a gulp. “So, yeah… looks like I’m going on this trip by myself.”

“Why not take me?” Why did I just do that? Easy, Pam. The answer is simple. You want to avoid your family and it’s a free trip. Plus, Jim isn’t that bad…

“You serious, Beesly? Do you really think that we can handle a week without any buffers like Dwight and Angela? That we won’t kill each other?”

“I’m up for challenges. Plus, I think that you still owe me for that comment that you said earlier this week.” Long pause. His green eyes looking into mine. I guess just to see if I was being serious. He finally smiles.

“Fine. But don’t get mad at me at the end of this. It was your idea.” He takes finishes up the last drops of the vodka and stands up. “I gotta go get rid of this. I’m thinking of putting it in Roger’s desk.” Yes, please do. He’s so creepy.

Jim turns to leave. “By the way, where are we going?” He looks at me gives me one of those goofy grins that I hate so much. Well, used to hate. Jim Halpert, look what you’ve done to me.