After throwing on an old Marywood University sweatshirt and putting a bandana in her hair, Pam went around the house and opened all the windows. The unseasonably warm weather was fading fast and she wanted to take advantage of the last of it while she still could. Cleaning was a lot nicer with a fresh breeze rolling lazily through the house.

She switched on the radio and sprayed some furniture polish onto a rag.

Cyndi Lauper floated from the stereo speakers and Pam danced as she wiped down the dining room table. There was something calming about cleaning. As she wiped dust from the table, she was wiping insecurity and doubt from her mind. In that moment, all that mattered in her life was Lemon Pledge and the fact that girls just want to have fun.

As Magic 93 cycled through all the music Pam loved (and some she would never admit to loving), she made her way through the rooms downstairs, cleaning like there was no tomorrow. She was singing along to Stevie Nicks and dusting off a shelf of knick-knacks when the doorbell rang. She stuffed the rag she was using into her pocket and went to the door.

She was expecting to find her aunt's next door neighbor at the door; he usually popped by around this time to complain about her aunt's landscaping. Instead of a crotchety old man, Pam found herself looking at a very amiable young man.

Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment she wondered if the Lemon Pledge had managed to go to her head. "Jim?"

Jim scratched the back of his neck and smiled awkwardly. "Yeah. Hi. I, uh, looked up the address with the phone number you gave me. Google can, uh, do anything."

Pam nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think it tested me for diabetes this morning when I was trying to look up knitting patterns."

"You knit?"

"Oh, yeah," Pam said. "Phyllis is teaching me. I decided my goal for the winter is to make a scarf for myself. Anything to keep myself busy. I'm kind of unemployed."

"Right, yeah, because... yeah," Jim said. He cleared his throat. "So... I - I hope it's okay that I came by. After - I mean... I just don't want things to be weird between us."

"Yeah, no," Pam said. "Totally cool. Totally fine. It's totally... hey, whatever, you know? No big thing. No... no big deal. So, hey, you wanna come in? I don't really have much to offer right now, but I can get you juice or something."

"No, I'm fine," Jim said. He stepped into the house and looked around. "Nice place. Your aunt's, right?"

"Yeah." Pam closed the door and took a deep breath. "I need a drink. My throat is just... dry."

She walked into the kitchen with Jim following. He leaned against the counter as she pulled a container of orange juice from the fridge and poured herself a glass.

"Pre-spring cleaning?" Jim asked and smiled.

Pam took a long drink and nodded. "My aunt's going to Florida for the rest of the year and she's letting me stay here free of charge, so I told her I'd do the cleaning. I think it's relaxing, anyway. Out with the old and... well, it's not really in with the new, but you know what I mean. A fresh start is just nice."

"Yeah," Jim said quietly. "So... a fresh start, huh? Are you and Roy...?"

"Separated," she said. "Legally. And, uh, moving forward with that. I stayed with Maddie for a week then decided I knew what I wanted to do, so... here I am, in Scranton."

He watched Pam drink her orange juice and the only thing he could picture in his mind was the way her curls fell in her face that last night in the bungalow. He tried to sweep the memory from his mind - he was here to make peace as a friend, nothing more. Just friends. Jim and Pam, just friends - just what she had wanted in the first place, right?

"You're not scared in a big place like this? All on your own?" he asked.

"It's a safe neighborhood," she said and shrugged. "I used to stay here a lot when I was a kid, so I guess that helps. I'd probably be afraid if it was just me in a new place by myself, but I guess that's something I have to get used to, right? I'm Independent Beesly now. Hear me roar."

She took another long drink and hoped it would wash down the awkwardness.

Jim licked his lips. "Yeah, I guess. But, hey, I guess you save money on the grocery bill, right?"

"Yep," Pam replied. She sighed. "I can't do this."

Jim asked, "Do what?" even though he knew exactly what she meant.

"I can't pretend this isn't..." she stopped to collect her thoughts. She looked into his eyes and he saw thousands of thoughts and emotions racing in her pupils, jockeying for position. "I can't pretend that we don't have to talk about what happened. I can't pretend that things are normal between us, because they're not. We're not the same and we can't go back to how things were before. It doesn't work that way."

He looked away. "I don't... know what to say. Words haven't done me any good so far."

"Okay," she said quietly. "Then, just... I'm sorry."

"For what?" Jim asked carefully.

"Well, I just... I'm apologizing in advance," she said and set the glass down.

Before he could ask just what the hell she was talking about, Pam walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She balanced on her tip-toes and kissed him softly. He kissed back cautiously, unsure if this was what he wanted. Well, yeah, he wanted it, but he didn't want to play the are-we-aren't-we game anymore and this all seemed like another big step in that direction. Before he could decide if he would push her away or pull her closer, Pam gently pulled away.

Her hands were still around his waist and she stared up into his eyes. Her voice was small. "I can't. I can't just be friends with you. Just one last time, that's all I wanted. I'm sorry if I hurt you before because now I know how it feels and... well, I'm sorry. I guess nothing matters anymore. I screwed up and I lost my chance and that's fair. You're moving on and maybe I will too. Maybe I'll move to Florida with my aunt, maybe I'll go back to California and live with Maddie. I don't know. And I think that's okay. It's okay that I don't know. For once maybe I'll take a risk and actually do what I want and not what I think other people need me to do. I needed one more day with you, one more kiss. I'm just a stupid girl who broke your heart, Jim, and I understand if that's how you'll remember me. Just... I'm sorry."

Pam stepped away from him. "And I wanted to say thank you. That week in California... you made me realize I didn't want to be with Roy. I shouldn't have been with him. Spending that week with you, I realized a lot of things... but that was the most important. Even if you hate me or you never speak to me again, I'll always be grateful for that. And... no matter how stupid it sounds, you'll always be my best friend."

She shrugged her shoulders and walked out the back door.

Jim put a hand over his mouth and exhaled deeply through his nose. He could walk out the front door and move on, forget about all the heartbreak and missed opportunities and maybe find someone new, someone who would want him from the start. Or he could walk out the back door and take another chance on someone who he had wanted from the start.

He remembered his first day at Dunder-Mifflin, remembered falling in love on the spot with the receptionist as she led him to his desk. He was different back then, ambivalent and apathetic when it came to... well, almost everything. Except her.

She had been the only thing he had been sure about. It took her moving across the country for him to realize he was wasting his life selling paper. It had become his career. While she was spending afternoons at the beach and selling antiques to tourists, he was still calling the same companies and selling them the same amounts of the same paper. Sunrise, sunset. Apathy led to agitation. But while she crushed him, she inspired him. He had started applying at other places and had even put his resume online. He wouldn't be left in the dust, not this time.

His head told him to leave now through the front door, forget about everything that had happened before. Why was he willing to put himself on the line again? Because the third time's the charm? Did he believe in fairy tales like that anymore, where the good guy always got the girl? He had been so determined to get over her, why should the fact that she wasn't wearing a ring matter?

He had gotten an apology, and wasn't that enough?

The broken pieces of his heart told him that no, it wasn't.