Pam wondered if her mom dropped her on her head as a child. She would call and ask later today. Her mother would probably scoff and say "Pamela, have you been drinking?" She must have been because Pam felt like she was brain dead sometimes. Here she was, an engaged woman, teetering on the brink of wedded matrimony, and she's having candlelight grilled cheese dinners with Jim on a rooftop. It was a magical night, even though nothing happened, not in the conventional romantic sense anyway. But she went home feeling much lighter than she usually did, even though she didn't leave work well until 9 that night. When she got home Roy wasn't there, and the still of the apartment let her enjoy this moment with Jim. She didn't feel guilty until that morning when she rolled over and was face to face with a sleeping Roy.

Women with fiancés shouldn't feel like this, she had thought. She went to work, angry at her self for even thinking that way about Jim. She tried hard to keep that line, such an important line, and she didn't know how to anymore. So when Jim came up to her counter and they joked about Jan and Michael, Jim beamed his thousand watt smile at her. She felt nothing but guilt. He mentioned they sort of had their first date last night, she retorted with "Swaying isn't dancing."

Even if at that moment, that moment she watched him bob his head to the same music in her ears, she felt connected. And that was wrong. Jim got a bit upset and snapped that at least he didn't forget about her and leave her at a hockey game. Pam's heart sank. No, Jim didn't. And in the back of her mind, she knew he never would have done a thing like that. And she felt even more guilty. Guilty that in the back of her mind, she had started comparing Roy to him. And she felt even worse, if that was all possible, because every time she hurt Jim's feelings, he would go right back to being her friend.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Michael running out of his office, locking the door and shutting off the lights. Pam sat frozen, wondering if she had missed something, was there another fire? No, if there was, Michael would have fled out the door, trampled over little kids and women to be the first one out.

"Alright! Everybody! Lock the doors. Turn off the lights. Pretend you're not here."

Jim's face was illuminated by his computer screen. "Are we in danger?"

"There's no time to think about it. This is real. Just shh, everybody."

Pam rolled her eyes at him. Not this morning, it's not a good morning. She should have known it was just the I.T. guy.

Michael profusely apologized, making references to 9/11, Iraq war, and the nice guy who owned the Quik-E mart down the street. Pam groaned inwardly as Robby nodded and just wanted to do his job.

"Your names Robby? Is that short for something?" Michael asked.

Robby frowned. "Yeah, it's short for Robert."

They entered his office and Pam hoped that Robby wouldn't strangle Michael with his mouse, not that she'd blame him. She clicked on her FreeCell game and the ding made her smile.

I was worried that a terrorist cell would target Dunder Mifflin. After all, paper is important. If they got rid of 15% of America's paper supply, what would we do?!

Pam put on a serious face and typed. Jim didn't look up as his computer dinged.

This is a serious matter. National security hinges on copier paper. Now do your American duty and sell some cardstock!

Jim shook his head and smirked over his computer screen and at that moment Pam saw how simple it could be. To just...to just...

Oh crap, Michael had emerged from his office.

Oscar asked from across the room, "Hey, what's the deal Michael? Why are you spying on our computers?"

Michael flushed and then waved him off. "Oh, no. Everybody, Oscar's gone crazy. What other ghost stories have you got for us? That I'm a robot? I will destroy, everything in my path."

Michael started to imitate a robot and Jim rolled his eyes.

"Actually, we just-"

"Boop! Beep! Bop!" Michael continued.

"Okay." Oscar replied annoyed.

Michael continued his bad acting.

"Actually we just got a memo from I.T. saying you're doing e-mail surveillance." Oscar stated simply.

Michael frowned. "Oh,what? No, that defeats the whole purpose."

"So it's true? You have access to our e-mails?" Dwight questioned, his paranoia rising.

Pam looked at Jim, and he smiled. He was going to use that to his advantage.

"You know what the problem is?" Michael started trying to explain.

Stanley muttered. "I think I do."

"The problem is that when people hear the term ‘Big Brother' they immediately think it's scary or bad. But I don't, I think, ‘Wow. I love my Big Brother'." Michael said.

"Survivor's better." Dwight countered.

"I enjoy Amazing Race myself." Creed interjected and a conversation about the best reality shows began.

Pam wondered if she should erase her emails to Jim. Most were about the goings-on in the office, but none were truly offensive. Jim emailed her several times throughout the day, keeping her abreast of Dwight's stupid commentary. She decided Michael didn't need to see that Jim emailed her so much. Definitely not... She scrolled down her in-box and noted most of her emails were from Jim. She clicked the delete button until her fingers hurt.

Out the corner of her eye, she spotted an exchange between Dwight and Angela. She strained to hear Dwight's low mumble while standing next to Angela, "Oh, hey. Just so you know. If you have any sensitive e-mails, they need to be deleted immediately."

Angela didn't look at him. "I know."

Dwight didn't look at her either. "Good."

Now THAT was interesting. Could it be that Dwight and Angela were having...ewww....no??! Maybe! Why not? They have similar personalities, the kind that makes people want to rip their hair out. And two people with similar likes and dislikes are bound to find themselves floating towards each other, right? Pam needed Jim's opinion. "Hey."

Jim looked up and she motioned for him to come over to her. He pushed up from his chair and went over to her counter.

"Something just happened. Dwight just told Angela that she has to delete all of her sensitive e-mails immediately." Pam could barely contain her excitement.

Jim looked at her in disbelief. "What?"

"I know."

"Hmm." Jim stared at her and then closed his eyes.

Pam took this moment to focus on his face, the way he shaved every morning to avoid scruffiness. "Do you think they're like-"

"No."  he stated simply.

"Right, no. Ugh! Ew. Ew, ew, ew." She freaked out, thinking of the grossness that would be Dwight and Angela. Two of the most insufferable people. Wouldn't they annoy each other? She's seen the signs of Angela enjoying Dwight's insane ranting. It could happen. "Maybe."

The AD took her into the conference room where she described her theory of Dwangela. "It's like squishing a spider under a book. It's gonna be really gross, but I have to look and make sure that it's really dead. So if you guys see anything."

After sitting at her desk looking for tell-tale signs, Pam got frustrated and walked over to Dwight's desk. Jim gave her an inquisitive look. "Hey, Dwight? Um...my friend is kind of into these two girls that he works with-"

"Nice." Dwight muttered.

Perv.

Pam shook it off and continued. "One is tall and brunette. And the other is short and blond and perky and kind of judgmental. Who do you think he should choose?"

Dwight pondered this and put his pen to his lips. "Does he have access to their medical records?"

"Um..." Pam blinked blankly at him, unable to process what he was saying. She flicked her eyes to the camera man, who seem to scratched his head at the question. What? All she wanted to know was if Angela was his type, not get the freaky indication he...she turned to see Jim sitting back in his chair, hands behind his head, smirking. Oh suck it Halpert, not everyone can get information from people the way you can.

"Well does he?" Dwight asked again, agitated that she hadn't finished her scenario.

Pam stuttered and was thankful the phone rang. "I-I have to get that."

Dwight nodded. "It is in your job description."

She approached her desk and sat down confused, answering the phone. "Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam."

The ding on her computer made her look up.

So....that was smooth Beesly.

Pam replied.

I know. What the hell was that? I mean, Jesus Jim... Anyway maybe you can get him liquored up for the BBQ, and I can extract info from him there.

Jim replied back.

Oh so you're using my BBQ as an interrogation room. And trust me, a drunk Dwight, might be scarier than a sober one. So you're definitely coming to my BBQ?

Pam read the message and looked confused. Of course she was coming. She had looked forward to it all week. Besides, she always wanted to see how Jim was outside of work. It would be cool to see him wearing jeans besides on casual Fridays, he looked nice in jeans...STOP PAM.

She replied back.

Wouldn't miss it for the world.

She detected a small smile on Jim's face as he read her email, but his screen hid it.

Jim replied.

Good, I don't want to catch you drunkenly making out with Dwight in a dark corner, ok Beesly? Erase all these messages.

Pam snorted, but before she could reply she spotted Angela going to the break room. She hit delete quickly. Jim nodded his head knowingly and Pam sprang up and practically jogged behind her.

"Hey, Angela. How's it going?" She said as nonchalantly as she could, considering she ran over. She walked up the vending machine where Angela was standing.

"It's okay."

"Listen, are you bringing anyone to Jim's party tonight?"

Angela looked at her. "No. Are we supposed to?"

"No. I mean, I don't know. I don't think so." She shook her head, trying to figure out how to wiggle info out of Angela. One slip up, one gesture and she could prove it. When people like each other, it's hard to ignore the signs.

Angela got her Baby Ruth and Pam went to put her dollar in the machine.

"Excuse me." Angela said coldly and shoved in more coins, pressing the button for another Baby Ruth.

Pam couldn't help but stare at the camera and back at Angela. She watched as Angela grabbed the second candy bar and began to walk out and suddenly Pam felt like she had evidence all the evidence she needed. She looked dead into the camera and put up two fingers and silently said, "TWO!"

Dwangela was becoming real. Jim entered the kitchen and reached in the refrigerator for his ham and cheese sandwich. "Are you okay? You look like you swallowed a canary."

Pam nodded. "Dwangela is definitely happening."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "Dwangela? You read People a little too much."

They sat down at the table and Kevin and Oscar joined them for lunch. They ate their lunches in contented silence, Pam every once in a while stealing one of Jim's chips. And then it all went to hell as Michael came in.

"Ahem."

Kevin cleared his throat." Are you going to eat with us?"

Michael sat down and began rambling. "Of course. Hanging with my crew. Crew that I am one of. Hanging with my Cup of Noodles. This is a meal in a cup, right here. Hot, tasty. Reminds me of college. Lived on this stuff. Brain food. Mmm. You know what I really, really miss about college? The parties-"

Pam pretended not to notice Jim looked into the camera. Sha-yeah like Michael got invited to parties. Good thing he wasn't going to Jim's BBQ. Michael continued rambling. "Everybody'd go. The athletes. The nerds. The professors."

Pam almost choked on her food. "The professors would go to the parties?"

She kicked Jim under the table and he bit hard into his ham and cheese.

"Yeah. They were the most fun. We always invited them."

Lunch was odd. Pam couldn't get back to her desk quick enough.

Jim emailed her.

Do you think Michael knows? Erase this message immediately!

Pam frowned. God she hoped not.

God I hope not. DELETE! DELETE!

Suddenly the camera was on her. What? The camera man jerked over towards Dwight who was at his desk, eating a Baby Ruth. AH HA!

Pam squeaked. "Oh! Yes! Thank you."

She knew it! And they were probably keeping it quiet because interoffice relationships had to be reported, and it's best to keep everyone out your personal business. But how could she not see them flirting? It must be hard to work that close to each other and not be able to touch or show your feelings, Pam thought. She bit her lip and her eyes involuntarily went to Jim before she saw Michael walk over to her counter.

She listened to him blather about his plans tonight and she just nodded accordingly and thanked god when the phone rang. Michael walked away to harass someone else. She clicked off the phone and Jim was leaning over her counter.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"So, Dwight thinks that tonight is a surprise party for Michael."

"Really? That's great!" Pam smiled.

"I know."

"Maybe we can get him to hide and wait somewhere." She suggested causing Jim to smile.

"Oh man. Oh, you know what? Speaking of which, I was just trying to get a handle on, um, you know, the numbers for food and stuff. So do you think Roy's gonna come or..."

"Oh, no, he can't make it..." She lied. She actually hadn't invited Roy at all. She didn't want to bring him and then he would think it was lame, even if she didn't agree, and he would want to leave. And Pam just didn't want to deal with that tonight. She was looking forward to going over to Jim's. So no...Roy would not be coming.

"Oh, okay. Cool." Jim replied and he pushed himself off the counter and she swore he almost smiled.

am couldn't wait until 5 o'clock. She would go home, take a shower, iron her clothes (ok just a pair of jeans but still) and figure out how to do her hair. No...that would make Roy suspicious. Even if she was just going over Jim's but she didn't want him comment on her efforts to get dolled up. Because that would end in a fight and she would end up not going to keep Roy happy. No...she'd look as if she was going to the grocery store. Yep...that's it.

Michael came out his office eyeing people awkwardly. Pam grabbed her coat and her purse and was headed out the door. "Hey, Pam. Do you need me to walk you to your vehicular transport?"

She shook her head. "No thanks."

As others filed out after her into the parking lot, Pam jumped into the truck (She told Roy she needed it tonight). As she pulled out she passed Jim, and slowed down.

"See you in a few hours." He said happily.

Pam winked and drove off. She went home and Roy wasn't there, and she figured he went with Darryl. Pam took a nice hot shower and used her perfumed body wash, and then slipped on her outfit. She looked at herself in the mirror and then grabbed her coat and keys, happy with the note she wrote for Roy.

Went to BBQ with work buddies. Won't stay out too late. Don't worry. Pam.

Simple, to the point, and no information what so ever. She drove to the address the email she printed out. The house looked plain but it was nice. Nicer than the apartment she lived in. She got out and noticed most of the people from work were there already. She took her time walking down the walkway and smiled when she reached the door. On it was a sign.

Come in, this is Jim and Mark's Place. Sorry about the sign, but the Butler is a lazy bastard. Door's open.

Pam stepped inside and heard music and people laughing and talking. And even though this was a bachelor pad, it was well kept. It was very clean and art decorated the walls. She walked into the living room area to see Jim standing there talking to some of the guests. "-we will be taking the tour like I promised-"

"Hey."

Jim turned to her and flashed her a big smile. "Hey! Just in time. Do you want to go on a group tour? We were just about to leave."

She nodded. She wanted to see the house. To see how Jim lived. "Definitely."

"Well, the group tour is now leaving then. Ladies and gentlemen, just a few things that we're going to be pointing out to you today. You will be able to see both bedrooms. And, uh, if we're lucky, maybe get a chance to peek into the bathroom. Who knows? I have to remind you also that flash photography is prohibited. And as much as you can, please refrain from touching things. I know you might want to."

She followed up after Ryan, and smiled at the art that she saw adored the walls. One poster she had wanted for the apartment but Roy frowned. "Stupid fancy smancy posters. Let's just leave the walls bare."

They began to walk up the stairs and she heard Ryan ask, "Hey, is Katy coming?"

Jim replied in a low voice. "Um, actually, I haven't talked to her in a while."

Huh? Say what? Katy isn't coming? Pam felt the corners of her mouth tug up.

"Huh? Oh. Is it cool if I call her?" Ryan continued.

"We'll talk about that later."

Jim showed them the bathroom, which she noted was hysterically decorated with a rubber duckie shower curtain. And my god, it was clear. She suddenly had a flash in her head of Jim showering and she felt hot so she pulled off her coat. Jim walked them down the hall and let them peek in at Mark's room. Unlike the rest of the house, Mark's room was a bit messy. But he apparently had tried his best to clean it up. Clothes were scattered on the floor and his bed wasn't even made. Men.

The highlight of the tour was Jim's bedroom and Pam found herself walking in the back so she could look in it longer. Jim claimed his mother did teach him how to do laundry, he just forgot WHERE the washing machine was located, and everyone laughed. He was leading them all back downstairs but Pam lingered behind and walked slowly into his room. It wasn't messy or clean. It was lived in, it was the perfect balance of Jim. She put her coat on the bed and looked at the pictures he had taped to his corkboard and the postcards he had up. His Scranton sweatshirt lay on the floor and she figured that was his basketball clothes. His room even smelled like him. Fabric softner and home.

As she walked past his dresser she bit her lip. Boxers or briefs? Oh stop it you perv. He's your friend and you're in here peeking at his personals. She felt a presence and turned to see the camera. She felt guilty for staying behind.

"Jim's bedroom." She gestured, but she didn't leave, even though she was embarrassed. She wanted to be in here, she felt safe, she felt comforted by being surrounded by him completely. She never wanted to leave.

Suddenly Jim's voice was heard and Pam blushed. "See, I knew we lost somebody on the tour. "

He smiled his gorgeous smile and Pam got a little redder. She was so busted.

"Cool," she said acting casual as she could. "This is your desk."

He broke his eye contact with her to look at what she pointed at. "This is my desk."

"Your home office?"

He nodded and gave her a look she swore was something more, something she's seen before with him. That she always tore away from. Like he wanted her there, in his room. "Home office. This is it."

"Yeah. You have to sit down so I can get the full effect." Any reason not to leave...

Jim smiled and sat down, his long legs under the too small desk. "Okay. Sure, will do."

"Okay, wait. So that would make me..." She looked around the room and sat on the other side of the room, in a chair in the corner. "Like right here."

Jim looked at her curiously, as if he was trying to figure out what she was thinking. Maybe her face was evident. He gave a small grin. "Yeah. Yep, that feels about right."

Pam pretended to type with her fingers. "Mm-hmm. And then Dwight would be like-"

Jim grimaced. "Um, you know what? Let's just leave that image out of it. Because this is a happy place. Happy thoughts, Pam. Happy thoughts."

They both laughed and he caught her eyes again, making her breath hitch. They were so demanding, as if he knew why she was in his room, as if he wanted her to stay and wanted her to know it was fine. She tore away again, becoming aware the cameras were watching them.

"Um...oh! Yearbook." She got up and snatched the yearbook she had spied earlier when surveying the room.

"Yeah, you don't have to, um."

"Alright, yes, that's not gonna be awkward at all." She didn't need to look up to see he was happy. And oddly she was happy too, being in Jim's room. Just them, no one else...well the camera men.

"Oh, no!" Pam laughed pointing at his picture.

"Oh,yeah."

His high school picture was so cute to her, to have this glimpse into his life made her feel like she knew him forever. Even if it was something as simple as a yearbook photo. Even then his smile pulled at her. "You were so dorky!"

Jim chuckled. "Thank you."

Pam stared at the yearbook, refusing to look at the camera. Refusing to leave the moment, refusing to acknowledge the party downstairs. When the camera man left to capture Phyllis and Mark crooning to "I like Big Butts" by Sir Mixalot, Pam let out a sigh of relief.

She closed the yearbook and smiled. "I love that picture of you. Dork."

Jim snorted. "Oh you so owe me a glance into your high school years now."

Pam grinned and again they were continuing their intense staring. He looked as if he was going to say something...the one thing she kind of wanted to hear him say. Her breath caught again.

"Let's get back downstairs before rumors start to fly." He replied, and her heart sank a little.

"O-ok."

When they got back downstairs, Pam grabbed a beer and scarfed down a hotdog much to Jim's amusement.

"Gotta love a woman with a healthy appetite," he smiled at her and she stuck her tongue out and went inside. She spoke a bit with Phyllis and Ryan, joked with Kelly and Robby, the IT guy. Then she hit the jackpot, she spied Dwangela talking.

"Hmm. Hey, Phyllis. Come here for a second."

"Sure." Phyllis moved through the crowd and smiled at Pam.

"Have you heard anything about any secret office romances or...?"

Phyllis smiled big and leaned in. "You tell me." Pam's face fell and Phyllis frowned. "Well, you do mean you and Jim, right?"

Pam could feel her heart beating out of her chest. It was that obvious? She thought she had done so well to keep her feelings, her fondness of Jim inside her own confused head. If Phyllis could see...everyone could. The cameras...Michael...Roy. Oh god.

Phyllis frowned. "Oh, god. I am so sorry, I mean, I thought, you guys hang out all the time. And you're talking all the time. I'm sorry, it's like-"

Pam tried to laugh it off. "It's okay. It's okay."

She needed to sit down. She flopped down in a seat and listened to someone sing karaoke. Hoping maybe she could drown in the shower when she got home. This was not good. Jim came up and sat next to her and her heart began to beat fast. Did he know? Is it freaking him out that this engaged woman is totally into him? No, I've seen him look at me, like he felt it too, like he wanted..."Oh, hey, how's your new side project going?"

"Um, oh, yeah, I gave that up."

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. It turns out I was, um, just grasping at straws." She couldn't look at him too much. Or inhale his scent, because all the time she thought she could, those quick fleeting moments just for her, everyone could see. Dammit. "I need some fresh air."

She stood up and walked past Jim, who looked concerned. She took her coat and walked out the front door, letting the air hit her. What was she doing? Why was she doing this to herself? Jim was her best friend. The camera followed her out and she stared into it. The AD asked about Dwangela.

"Just because two people are hanging out, it doesn't mean that they're together. You know? Like people can just be friends. And I think that it was really unfair of us to assume that there was anything else going on."

She knew she was lying. A lot was going on. Two people in the office were starting to like each more than friends. And it wasn't just Dwight and Angela. She walked back into the party and took off her coat. Kevin was singing and Jim sat on the sofa talking. He smiled up at her and patted the seat by him. To refuse it would be rude. So she sat down.

"You alright?"

"Oh yeah, just buzzed from your imported beer."

Jim snorted. "Rookie."

Suddenly Dwight yelled "Surprise!" and everyone turned in shock to see Michael standing there. It was like the scenes in the old west when the whole bar got quiet and you could here a pin drop. She heard Jim mutter "Shit" to himself.

"Wow. Who opened the morgue for this thing? I was just driving by. Thought I'd drop in. Here's some wine. I would love a glass if you're gonna open it. Hello temp. Take my jacket. Ha ha ha! Oh, come on. That guy?!"  Michael said pointing to Robby. "He is a good guy. Not a terrorist. Yikes. Karaoke. I love it. I am a karaoke fiend! I call dibs, I've got next. I've got next up. Come on. Let's- Let's get this party started. Ha! Okay. Where's that wine?"

Oh god. Michael just made everything worse. His constant need for attention, his lack of humor. Jim took the wine and put it in the kitchen. He then came back and dropped on the sofa giving Pam a "well it was fun while it lasted" look.

Michael totally killed the mood. He snatched up the microphone and started singing karaoke. "Okay, this is a duet, so, somebody else? Pam, you want to...come up and sing this one...?"

She shook her head. I'd rather be eaten by a pack wild dogs.

Michael continued. "Need somebody else. Takers, please. "

Michael started singing "Islands in the Stream" by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton. "Baby when I met you there was peace unknown- Kelly? I tried to get you with a fine tooth combbbbb.... I was soft inside, there was something going on - This is the part that goes to the, uh, girl--You do something to me that I can't explain..."

Pam saw Jim shake his head and then he got up and stood behind Michael.

"-It requires a dedication... All this love we feel needs no conversation...Divided together, uh-huh-"

Her heart melted. Michael had crashed his party, killed the mood, and still, Jim made the best of it. He shrugged at Pam and she beamed back. Tonight was a nice night.

As they all filed out to leave a few hours later Pam lingered behind.

"Want to help me clean up Beesly? Mark bailed on me obviously. I should change the locks on him."

"Uh...sure. I mean, I was going to my second job at the strip club but I could be a few minutes late."

Jim stared at her for a second and smiled brightly. "Take a trash bag smart ass."

She smiled back. She picked up the cups and stuffed them in the bag. "You have a nice place, Halpert."

He nodded as he collected bottles for recycling. "Thanks. Amazing what a little Febreeze and a vacuum can accomplish."

Suddenly Jim was standing next to her, and Pam stopped to look into his eyes.  Here he was, he was going to do it. Was she ready? She didn't know. He licked his lips. "Look Pam, I-"

Her cell phone rang. Roy.  "Um...hold on....hello? Oh yeah, I'm on my way home babe. Yeah. Okay. Bye."

She flipped the cell down and Jim's face looked fallen and tense. "I-I'm sorry, what were you going to say?"

He shook his head and took her plastic bag from her. "Nothing. I hope you had a good time. And be careful driving."

Her heart almost stopped beating. Why did they insist on doing this? Playing this game? Why did she want him to say what he was going to say when she was engaged? "Oh. Yeah. Well...good night, Jim."

She grabbed her coat and walked to the door. She didn't see him drop his head and mutter back. "Yea, good night."