Pam knew they had some pretty tricky territory ahead of them. She told Jim so.

"Do you really think we can manage this?" she asked.

"You're only asking because no one ever has."

"Exactly."

"Pam... are you comparing us to Michael and Jan?"

"No."

"Dwight and Angela?"

"God, no!" Pam shuddered.

"Creed and Meredith?"

"What?!"

"Supply closet, New Year's Party, 2002. Whew. Feels good to finally tell you that."

"Thanks a lot! Ew."

"Pam, just because none of them could handle it doesn't mean we can't. I mean, what are our main obstacles?"

As Pam saw it, there were three.

x x x x x

When Pam had come in that morning, Angela was already there.

Angela was always early. One week long ago, Pam and Jim had come in a little earlier each day to see if they could get there before Angela. But even when they showed up at 5:00 a.m. that Friday, she was there, at her desk, her strict braid and disapproving look perfectly in place. In retrospect, they probably shouldn't have shown up at the office together at 5:00 a.m. That had looked kind of suspicious.

On this particular morning, though, Angela was already there because Pam was late. As Pam hung up her coat and stowed her purse, she heard a contemptuous noise. She glanced over to accounting, where Angela was shaking her head at Pam.

Angela hated it when people were late. It put her in a very bad mood. Pam decided to do her best to avoid Angela that day. It didn't work. By 10:00 a.m., Pam had had three run-ins with Angela, each worse than the last.

The first came just a few minutes after Pam turned her computer on.

"You're still checking your email?"

Pam looked up at Angela's annoyed face. "It's 9:08."

"Exactly." Angela shoved some invoices at Pam. "Fax these to Corporate, please. And don't wait till 5:20 this time." Angela's eyes glinted as she turned away.

The second run-in was fifteen minutes later, when Angela called over the partition.

"Has Corporate faxed a reply yet?"

Pam frowned. "A reply?"

"To the invoices?" Angela's head popped up. "You did fax them, didn't you?"

"Of course."

Angela shot her a fiery look and disappeared again.

Pam faxed the invoices.

At 9:48, Corporate faxed a reply. Angela wasn't going to like it.

"You aren't going to like this," Pam said as she handed the reply to Angela.

Angela stared at her. "You read it?"

"Um..."

"That is none of your business! That is accounting business. If I wanted you to read all of my correspondence, I'd have asked you to read all of my correspondence!"

"Angela, I just-"

"No! This is incredibly unprofessional! There could have been sensitive information in that. You can bet I'll be reporting this to Toby. And Michael." Angela jerked the fax out of Pam's hand. "And I'll be sending my own faxes from now on." When Pam didn't move, Angela spat, "That is all."

As she walked back to her desk, Pam checked her hands and face for burns.

x x x x x

Jim laughed. "Well that's easy to avoid again. Just listen for the tsk of righteous indignation, and walk in the opposite direction."

Pam giggled.

Jim joined her. "What else?"

Pam's smile faltered. Jim wasn't going to like this one.

x x x x x

Just before lunch, Michael asked Pam to run an errand for him.

Pam hadn't wanted to go down to the warehouse, but Darryl wasn't answering his phone or his voice mail, and Michael was getting antsy. And so Pam went, her cell phone in hand so that Darryl could call Michael, no matter where Darryl was. Pam knew that Darryl would be thrilled.

The thing is, Pam had to tread carefully in the warehouse, because her ex-boyfriend, Roy, worked there. While Pam still saw him every day at work, it was awkward. So as she descended the steps, she kept an eye out for Roy. Best to avoid him altogether.

Pam found Darryl in the back. As she told him why she was there, he watched her with a look that Pam knew wasn't just because she worked upstairs or was on an errand from Michael. It was because she had dumped Roy right before their wedding, and Darryl thought that was pretty low. Finally, though, he took the phone from her and called Michael.

Pam stepped away and looked at the neat stacks of paper products while she waited. She was admiring their organization when a soft voice spoke behind her.

"Hey, Pam."

Pam jumped a little and closed her eyes. She shouldn't have tried to avoid him. Now she turned. "Hi, Roy."

"Hey. What brings you down here?"

"Oh, just a thing for Michael." She pointed over her shoulder to Darryl's frustrated conversation.

Roy chuckled. "Right... Michael. Glad I'm not the foreman."

Pam felt herself slip just a bit into his dimples.

He gave her a small smile and said, "You look nice today."

"Thanks."

"Did you change your hair?"

"No. It's the same."

"Oh. That bit there looks a little different." Roy pointed, but then stuffed his hands back in his pockets. "It looks nice."

Pam blushed. She couldn't remember the last time Roy had noticed her hair. "Thanks."

"I heard you started taking art classes. That's great."

She looked up, surprised. "Yeah, they're good."

"You'll have to show me some of your drawings."

"Mm, okay..." Pam looked at his eyes, and thought he might actually mean it.

"Here's your phone." Darryl was beside her now. He looked at Roy then back at Pam. "Tell Michael to come down here himself next time." He looked back up at Roy. "C'mon, man, we need to get that truck loaded," and he walked away.

Roy nodded. "Okay, I'll be right there." He turned back to Pam. "So, hey, I was thinking maybe sometime-"

Pam didn't hear the rest. Roy was talking and looking at her in a sincere way that she hadn't seen for a long time. She had the sensation that she was sinking, and that the warehouse was very stuffy because she was having trouble breathing. Everything felt very heavy. She couldn't move.

Then her phone rang. She looked down to see Jim on the screen. Her feet began to move toward the stairs.

"Pam?"

She began walking more quickly. "I'm sorry. I have to get back."

"Okay. Maybe some other time."

"Yeah." Now she was running up the stairs, toward the door marked EXIT.

"Oh, wait! Chicken or fish?"

Pam jerked open the door and called back, "Share with Darryl!" She burst through the door and landed, panting, against the opposite wall. Her heart was trying to come out of her chest. That had been too close.

Her phone was still ringing. She opened it.

"Hi," Jim said.

"Hey," she breathed.

x x x x x

"You just have to watch your step. So that neither of you get hurt again."

Pam knew Jim was mostly concerned about her. "You're right."

"I know. I usually am."

"Ha ha," said Pam, but she knew he was, again.

"Let's switch to IM. It's quieter."

"Okay."

JHalpert: See? Nothing to worry about.

PBeesly: But what about the ROUS?

JHalpert: The Regional Office Undercover Spyware? Yeah, right.

PBeesly: I'm telling you, I saw the plans on Michael's desk...

PBeesly: ...and he had the IT guy in here for a week solid!

JHalpert: And I'm telling you there's no way Michael has developed the capability to spy on our IMs.

PBeesly: He looked pretty happy when the IT guy left.

JHalpert: Agent Michael Scarn is fictional, Pam.

MGScott: O RLY?

PBeesly: Michael?

MGScott: And a friend...

TPacker: Hey, doll.

JHalpert: Back off, Packer.

TPacker: What you gonna do about it, Halpert?

JHalpert: She doesn't want anything to do with you.

TPacker: Don't trip on your skirt running to her side, Halpert.

TPacker: She knows a man when she sees one.

JHalpert: And that's you? Give me a break.

TPacker: Give up.

JHalpert: You give up? Good. We accept.

TPacker: No, you give up, you pansy.

TPacker: Or maybe you'd rather lose your job.

TPacker: Porter would be mighty interested in how you've been spending your hours online, DPRoberts.

JHalpert: You wouldn't.

TPacker: Oh yeah?

JHalpert: I'd quit first.

PBeesly: Wait!

PBeesly: I'll do it!

TPacker: What?

JHalpert: What?

MGScott: TWSS!

PBeesly: I'll do it.

PBeesly: I'll go out with you, Packer.

PBeesly: Just promise you won't try to get Jim fired.

TPacker: Deal, little lady.

JHalpert: What are you doing?

PBeesly: I cost you one job.

PBeesly: I won't cost you another.

JHalpert: That's not important.

PBeesly: It is to me.

PBeesly: I'm signing off now.

PBeesly: Please don't risk it, Jim.

TPacker: Looks like she's made her choice.

TPacker: Again.

TPacker: Later, nerdz.

JHalpert: This isn't over.

But it was.

Jim sat back in his chair. Five minutes ago, everything had been fine. Now he wasn't sure what he was going to do.

In front of him, Andy chuckled into his phone, and said, "Sure thing," before hanging up. He clicked around online a few times, then turned to Jim.

"Hey, Big Tuna. Can I interest you in a friendly match?"

Jim looked up, confused. "What?"

Andy rolled his chair back so Jim could see Andy's monitor. VirtualSwordfight.com. Andy's avatar bounced while it waited.

Jim sighed. "Sure. What the hell." He logged in and their match screen came up. Something caught his eye. "Huh."

Andy turned to Jim. "What?"

Jim pointed to his screen. "Your avatar has six fingers on its right hand. There's someone who's looking for you. Ever heard of ARM?"

Andy got red and burst. "Yer goin' DOWN!" He spun around and clicked, and DPR got hit hard on the head. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Andy turned back to Jim and nodded, slowly. He whispered, "Down, Big Tuna."

Jim let his face fall into his palms and squeezed his eyes shut.

His head was pounding.