Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
~
He's coming back.
She's known it for weeks now and it still doesn't seem real. It doesn't feel real that he left in the first place. Sometimes nothing since he told her he loves her seems real.
It still shocks her when she looks up from her desk and of course he's not there, he hasn't been there for months and it just can't be real.
Every day she sits in the break room and wonders whose life she's living because it can't be hers.
Every evening she gets into her own car, lets herself into her own apartment and lets herself feel proud. She tells herself that this life she's living is hers. It's art school and independence and exactly the life she's always been meant to live.
Every night she looks at the cold empty space beside her and lets herself feel like a coward. She knows it's not quite the right life yet.
This new life is new and scary and still feels like a dream. The phone call was real. It started out awkward and ended much the same but for the most part it was comforting and familiar and fun and real.
He's coming back and the right life feels closer than it has for a while.
She lays out a new sweater on her bed while she curls her hair. The sky is blue and the wind is rattling with the promise of winter against her windowframes. She wishes she was laying out that periwinkle dress. She wishes the sky was dark and the promise of summer was hanging heavy in the parking lot, wishes his words were still suspended in the warm air between them. She wishes a lot of things these days.
"Hi, I'm Jim. I'm new here."
She throws her arms around him because she can. Because it's him and he's here and she couldn't have stopped herself if she'd wanted to.
She thinks she feels his body relax for a moment, feels the sigh in his chest that he doesn't let escape his lips. For a glorious moment there's nothing in her world but him. Really him, not a voice on her phone, not the memory that's been haunting her for months. She breathes him in and she knows she'll be a little lightheaded when they part.
Too soon, it's awkward and she remembers that there's other people around. She lets go. Later she'll wonder if that's where it started to go wrong.
He doesn't get his old desk back. He doesn't roll his sleeves up while his computer boots up. He doesn't come to reception once.
He buys bottled water and she thinks it's unhealthy for that to bother her as much as it does.
He's not the man she remembers. He's not the man she got a glimpse of on the phone. She hopes that man is still in there somewhere.
She can't believe she did this to him. She can't believe she broke his heart.
He still smiles and makes his little faces to the camera. To everyone else, he's still Jim. She's always known him better than everyone else. She knows the truth. She sees it in the clear bottle of water, in buttoned up sleeves, in each of the jelly beans she topped up this morning, left in their box.
She knows it has to be her.
The break room feels like the wrong place to do this. She pauses. She thinks about the way they used to be and wonders if maybe it's the perfect place to do this.
"...you want to grab a coffee or something after work?" (Hello)
It's not exactly an outpouring of truth but it's something. Progress. Friendship. The potential for talking, for laughing like they did on the phone. A chance for the truth.
She hopes it's enough but she knows it won't be.
She's wearing a new sweater for him and she's curled her hair and she's trying. She's still learning to be this new person.
His sleeves are down, his desk has moved and she broke his heart. He's evolving and she's terrified of the new person he's becoming.
"...tonight actually no." (Goodbye)
He used up all his courage in May. She's going to learn just how much of it she's got.
~
He must be some sort of masochist. It's the only explanation for why he's getting out of his car and walking over to her. Or maybe it's not that. Maybe there's some courage left somewhere, revived by the sight of her, by the hug, the invitation to coffee.
They're small gestures but he lived off smaller things for years.
He's too hot with his shirt sleeves buttoned. He wants his old desk back. He's craving jelly beans. He's craving grape soda. He's craving her. He thinks, hopes, dreams, wishes.
He remembers. May. Poker. Laughter. Hopes, dreams, wishes, bundled up and thrown out into the parking lot. He remembers the heartbreak.
He's determined not to be reckless again.
She has her own car and her own place now, her art classes and her independence. He thinks this new Pam might be able to say what she really means.
He gives her a chance.
"I just think I should tell you that I sort of started seeing someone." (Hello)
He gives her a chance to say she wishes he wasn't. He thinks he'll break things off with Karen when they haven't even started if she just looks upset for a second or two. He wishes he was stronger than that. He knows he's not.
She smiles in a confused sort of way and for a moment he forgets about the changes. For a moment he's staring back through time and she's the person she used to be again.
"You can do whatever you want." (Goodbye)
It's not what he was hoping for and he tells himself he's a fool. He's not supposed to be hoping anymore. It's a vice that almost destroyed him.
She's giving him permission to date someone else. She doesn't look upset. She says they'll always be friends. And all the pieces of himself that he thought he'd put back together are scattered across the parking lot. Again.
He walks away. It's easier than last time. He wonders when being this new person will get easier. He wonders if she's wondering the same thing.
Mostly he just wonders if he'll ever stop craving jelly beans.
~
She thinks her apartment will feel lonelier than ever tonight. She thinks she'll be haunted by the sight of Karen's hand on his back when she closes her eyes.
She thinks she'll paint the back of his neck. She thinks she'll paint a bottle of water, sitting alone atop a lunch table. She thinks she'll draw herself in the background, with two cans of soda and no-one to share with.
She thinks she'll paint a thousand dispensers of jellybeans overflowing from lack of interest
She sees him approach and she thinks maybe she won't have time for painting tonight.
"I just think I should tell you that I sort of started seeing someone."
She doesn't know what to say. He didn't used to have that effect. She thinks he's telling her to show her that she didn't break him quite as badly as it looked like she did. She forces out a smile and it physically hurts but she hears herself saying something stupid about how he can do whatever he wants.
She wants to say something funny and hear him laugh.
She wants to say she's sorry.
She wants to say she loves him and probably always has.
She can't.
The new person wearing the new sweater that might have had the courage to say any of it is huddling under her old coat, hiding in her old life. She's too cold to take her old coat off and show him the new person underneath. One more reason to wish it was May again.
She wants to pull out the ipod that she bought but can't really afford and play him a song that tells him everything.
She wants to grab his hand and say she never should have let go.
She can't.
She gives him a chance.
"We're friends. We'll always be friends." (Hello)
He might smile and agree. He might say that he wishes they were more than friends. He might kiss her. He might, but she knows he won't.
She broke his heart and she know that hints and coffee and friendship won't be enough.
"Right." (Goodbye)
She walks away. She wonders if it'll ever be easy to be the new person, to say the things she's thinking. She wonders if it's been easy for him to change.
She thinks she'll paint him the way he used to be: eyes ablaze with laughter and love, his mouth curling upwards into a smile, dangling his forearms over her desk. She thinks if she captures him on the page, even a vague resemblance to the brilliance he's lost, she might just find the courage tomorrow to tell him the truth and try to reignite the love that's died in his eyes.
She picks up her paints and creates a harmless, empty watercolor of flowers.
She's not as brave as he was that night. Yet.
~
Author's Chapter Notes:
The Merger.
"...you want to grab a coffee or something after work?" (Hello)
"...tonight actually, no." (Goodbye)
"...you want to grab a coffee or something after work?" (Hello)
"...tonight actually, no." (Goodbye)
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. The welcome from this fandom, and this site in particular, has been wonderful.
Due to some serious computer issues and Thanksgiving's approach, this story will be taking a brief hiatus over the next week. Back after Thanksgiving, probably with Phyllis' Wedding unless anyone can make a good case for a moment they want to see before that....
Due to some serious computer issues and Thanksgiving's approach, this story will be taking a brief hiatus over the next week. Back after Thanksgiving, probably with Phyllis' Wedding unless anyone can make a good case for a moment they want to see before that....
