“So…Pam’s with…what’s him name? Paul. And I’m with Karen. And, uh, Brangelina is with Frangelina. Moving on.” Jim rolled off the words with practiced humour as the camera crew asked him about the new, tall and handsome guy who had been visiting the reception desk during lunch since the last two weeks. He wasn’t sure whether the camera caught how his smile fell flat as he let his own words echo in his head, but he was soon yawning like he did almost all the time these days and Ricky showed him some pity and let him go refill his coffee.

So Jim sat with his second coffee of the day and the month’s business magazine in the kitchen, flipping absently through the pages while thinking about the days’ sales calls. He had been in talks with a big company, and secretly wanted to close the deal with them before the big party at Wallace’s house so that he could flaunt a little- his own train of thought made him grimace, feeling like Dwight had gotten into his head and was making him do things through some witchcraft.

But Wallace had been praising his consistent sales lately, had often hinted over e-mail how Jim would be an asset to the corporate offices, and well, it wasn’t a bad deal to think about moving up the ladder and to the city. Karen was excited even at the thought of it, and as far as Jim was concerned…

I have no future here.

His own words from more than a year back echoed in his head, and he wistfully let out a chuckle at how fucking true those words were even after all this time. Jim hadn’t thought much about what coming back to Scranton would really do to him when he had moved back from Stamford; he had almost worked on autopilot, words of moving on and evolving and being in a better place playing around like muppets in his head, Karen by his arm and in his life with her brilliant smile and confident ambitions left no chink in his armour as he drove back to the place he had fled, escaped, only a few months back.

The first little chink came soon though, as she ran to him, skipping and jumping, her eyes shining with happiness; god, he had missed her. He didn’t even stop himself from taking her in his arms indulgently, letting those couple of seconds drown him in a kind of peace and warmth only she could bring to his life. But as the day rolled on, and Jim became aware of how different but still the very same things were, his autopilot was back- he couldn’t fall back into being the old Jim. And so he ditched a coffee date he would have usually jumped at, focussed all his energy on keeping his eyes away from the reception and the receptionist as Michael revealed his antics to the Stamford people, smiled under Karen’s gaze and joked with her, filling the haunting place around him with new memories and new habits.

He still doesn’t know what made him talk to Pam at the end of the day, what made him tell her about Karen, rather vaguely- he didn’t owe her anything. And yet, when it came to Pam, he always felt he owed her. When Karen him called him to join her for a drink, he knew today’s drink would not end on a see you later and she would want to take things forward. And something just made him feel a little guilty of doing that here in Scranton, a place sacred and special and her in so many ways. So he saw Pam and jumped out of his car and felt a second chink in his armour. She had looked sad and he almost told her to come for a coffee with him, that he never would deny her anything.

But in seconds, the air around him changed as Pam looked up at him with a coldness and nonchalance such a part of her face that sometimes he wanted to shake her off it and beg her to let the mask down; and he had done this once, in this same place, handing his heart to her and holding her eyes and telling her that he wants more, hoping with all that he had that she could let off her mask- and she had, for a few seconds before she said that she can’t, for half a minute when her hands were in his hair and her lips moving against his, and then she had worn it back and left him struggling to ­even breathe.

So this time, before Pam could dig in the chink any deeper and before he would be desperately trying to take off her mask once again, he wore a mask of his own and told her that he was seeing someone. And Jim had been wearing that mask every since, and now it has seeped into his face and beneath his skin, pinned itself to his entire being. Peeling any of it off would just be ­too painful.

“Hey.” He looked up from the haze of words the magazine had become to see Pam come in with her pink coffee mug.

“Hey, Beesly.”

“Did you hear what Michael pulled off at Ryan’s college?”

“Oh man, how I wish I were taking an MBA class from Michael. I would have bagged Wallace’s job by now.”

“And what would Michael be doing then?”

“Pam, he would obviously be advising the White House on what kind of paper to use.”

“Obviously.”

They laughed. Pam told him she was certain that if the opportunity ever arose, Michael would leave Jan for Ryan. Jim answered that he wasn’t sure whom to feel worse for. Pam thought he should feel the worst for Dwight.

Jim agreed and hi-fived her; he knew this would be the only conversation they would be having for the day as he headed back this desk, his thoughts already going back to lunch plans with the big client today and the toolbox Karen wanted him to pick up later for her car.

Yes, the mask had become ­him.

**

“And I swear, Pam, the salmon was raw. The salmon. How do you even leave that raw?”

Pam laughed into the phone as Paul narrated to her his horrific lunch tales with a client.

“Yeah, I found it funny too but only after I wasn’t starving. Anyway, what are your plans for the evening?”

“Actually, Michael left early, so a bunch of us are going to go to Poor Richard’s for happy hour.” Pam then added, a little shyly. “You should come.”

“Really?”

She bit down on her lip listening to how happy Paul sounded. She was taking this slow, especially when she was aware of how much Paul was into this. It still baffled her that this hep city planner was interested in her, but she had told him that she had gotten out of a lifetime of a relationship recently and wanted to take things at a certain pace (she didn’t really think it was wise to go into any other details of her decision). And boy, had he understood. He was being a perfect gentleman, doing lunch dates and movies with her, dropping her at her doorstep and kissing her goodnight. She had also told him how weird her office people were, and even though he was friends with Oscar and everybody knew about them, she would prefer him not hanging out with her colleagues (again, she left out some important details about a specific colleague).

But today, she knew Jim would be away at the fancy corporate party and she also felt that she missed Paul a little. They had to skip their lunch dates the past couple of days due to his meetings, so she braved a little and asked him out.

“Yes, Paul, really.”

“Wow.” She could sense the tease in his voice.

“Stop acting like I have invited you to my apartment.”

“Ah, how I wish, Pam. How I wish.”

“Shut up”, a nervous giggle escaped her lips.

“I am kidding. Okay, I will see you there then. Cannot wait.”

“See you.”

Pam put down the phone and her eyes flew to the back of Jim’s head almost automatically. It was like she was living in an autopilot mode- ­just go with the flow, Isabelle had advised when she had told her about liking Paul. And so she was. With Paul, and with Jim. She had let him take the lead, as usual, falling in a routine he decided for them: civil friends, cordial colleagues, sharing a joke in the morning, asking about each other’s day as they left office, denying all traces of a dull pain that settled in her body every time his eyes stayed on hers for a second too longer, ignoring the shiver she felt every time her fingers accidentally swiped his while handing him his messages and faxes. And she knew she was good at this, the denying stuff, and if that’s what he wanted, she could keep up.

He looked happy, with Karen. With his promotion and his newfound love for making sales. And she was happy, too. Paul was great- funny, charming, gentle, interesting; adored her for god knows what reason. He was the kind of guy you could fall in a routine with and still not find it boring. He was mature, liked things in control, and was such a relief for Pam after living with a man-child like Roy for years. Sometimes guilt would take over her as she would catch Paul looking at her longingly, or simply smiling at her as she wiped off pasta sauce from the end of her thumb, or even when she would catch herself looking at him in the middle of movie and missing Jim.

But autopilot was the best for now, it kept her going, the sense of status quo that her life had been missing was coming back bit by bit, and while it wasn’t the status quo she had imagined for herself a few months back when she had called off her wedding, she was still enjoying this. It was nothing like her older status quo- this was new, this was fancy, this was hers.

**

Jim couldn’t believe he was shooting hoops with David Wallace while telling him about the big-ass client he roped in. This wasn’t how he had imagined the evening to unfold, but he wasn’t complaining.

“So how are things otherwise, Jim? You okay at Scranton now?”

“Yeah, yeah. Business has really picked up there, you know.” Jim knew Wallace was hinting at his sudden move to Stamford, but he obviously didn’t want to go there, and he appreciated when Wallace simply nodded.

“And you and Karen together? She’s a really bright one.”

Jim grinned. “She is.”

“Let’s talk soon. We are moving around things here at New York, and could have something for you.” Wallace patted him on the shoulder and headed back to the party.

Jim stayed back for a while, enjoying the fresh air and silence away from all the noise of the party. He absently dribbled, thinking about what Wallace had said. Was Jim really cut out for New York? Why not? That’s what evolving is all about, right? Taking a leap, trying out new things, stepping out of your comfort zone.

Yeah, I can do this. Enough of slacker Jim. I just shot hoops with the fucking CFO. I can do this.

“Hey, big guy. Buttered up the CFO, eh?”

Jim turned to see Karen walking slowly towards him, eyeing him mischievously. “He came back all won over by you, telling me how wonderful my boyfriend is and how we both look great together.”

“Really now?” Jim dropped the ball and cocked an eyebrow at Karen as she put her arms around his waist.

“Yep. And I kind of agree with him”, she whispered against his lips and he lightly brushed her cheeks with his knuckles before she took his lips in for a kiss.

“Sorry for the mean prank I pulled at you. Sometimes you are just so easy, Halpert.”

She smiled against his lips and Jim responded with a smile of his own, pulling back and lightly kissing her jaw. A little pool of honey swam in her eyes, indicating that she was a little tipsy, and Jim held her tightly by the waist as she swayed a little. “That was really mean, you know. I was wounded, Filippelli.”

Even as Jim joked, he couldn’t help but feel a little shameful at how easily he had agreed to Karen going out with these bunch of guys, never doubting it, not even feeling weird about it, let alone jealous, as if he barely knew her. He would have never believed something like this were it…

“I guess you could punish me when you become my boss and head to New York.”

Karen had moved her hands up his back and was playing with his hair now. She looked beautiful under the floodlights of Wallace’s little rink, and sometimes Jim felt pathetic at how thankful he was for Karen to look him in the eye like no one else ever had and make him forget everything for a while.

“I am still your boss.”

She lightly nudged him. “Let’s go back, funny guy. We don’t want people to wonder.”

Jim was surprisingly having a good time at the party, and feasting on the amazing seafood being served. After networking and mingling for another hour, he found himself sitting with some salad in the corner, thinking about finding Karen and making an exit.

There’s only so much paper talk I can do.

His phone beeped and he flipped it open while nibbling on some pickled olives. It was a broadcast from Kelly.

The not so corporate cocktails!

With it was attached a blurry picture in a dimly lit Poor Richard’s, the office people gathered around the bar table, each clearly quite sloshed. Jim laughed at the caption, and out of habit his eyes searched for Pam in the hazy, pixelated mess.

And of course he found her, standing between Kelly and Phyllis, an arm from somewhere behind her draped across her neckline, tightly holding her shoulder.

Jim put down the salad and looked more carefully now. Pam was almost nestled in Paul’s forearm. He was standing behind her, his face almost hidden because of the uneven flash but Jim could see has was grinning, his other hand deftly placed on Pam’s waist.

And Pam, oh yeah, she was grinning too. Her shoulders were a little bent as Paul towered over her, and she looked positively giddy, beaming but still in a reserved, shy, Pam way. Just like she was beaming the day Jim had taken her to the rooftop and made her dinner, when she had smiled so honestly, so openly, looking ­just content.

Jim felt a chink drill through his armour at this thought, a special memory of Pam that he kept like an ancient heirloom locked away in a safe, the key to which only belonged to him, now on display to the world- that smile on her face as she stood with another man. Jim knew he made her smile, obviously. And he knew they were happy too, he had seen enough of him coming up to the office at lunch and Pam skipping out with him; in fact, a part of him was glad that at least this guy wasn’t a jerk like Roy.

But this? It felt like someone had snatched away from Jim three years of his life that were a fable of every time Pam had smiled like that ­with him, for him, because of him.

“Hey, Halpert. What you are looking at?”

Karen slumped beside him and looked at the screen. “Oh wow that looks fun! Man, don’t they all look sloshed.”

One good thing that had come out Paul and Pam’s relationship was how much more assured Karen had become about Jim and Jim moving on- actually, Jim couldn’t figure out whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, but he sure could do without the late night talks and the constant feeling of guilt nagging him.

“Yeah.” Jim had a hard time finding his voice. “Do you want to head there? This party is kind of getting lame.” He tried his best to sound breezy, his eyes aching to go back to staring at his phone and checking again if maybe he had seen something wrong, maybe that wasn’t Pam.

“For real? My agoraphobic boyfriend doesn’t want to go back and watch Sports Centre at his apartment but wants to go to another party?”

Jim fumbled, but then looked at the teasing glint in Karen’s eyes and relaxed. “I guess you are rubbing off on me”, he managed weakly with a shrug, but Karen bought it and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“You are full of surprises today. Let’s go then.”

**

Pam never drank too much with office people, but something about being with Paul made her feel safe as she bravely ordered a fourth martini.

Just like how being with Jim had made her feel safe all those years back, when kissing him chastely on the lips felt like the more natural thing to do.

“Are you sure about that?” Paul asked even as he laughed while Pam spun in her bar stool; he himself looked a little buzzed.

“Yes. I am happy.” She pulled herself closer to him. She was happy. He looked even more handsome under the dim, sneaky lights of the bar, and maybe under the influence of tequila.

“I am glad.” He pulled her in for a kiss and Pam sighed. He tasted of chocolate and beer and mint. “And I am glad I met you, God bless art.” He smiled in between the kiss, something Pam loved about him.

“God bless art indeed”, she replied, giggling and kissing him again. She felt dizzy and giddy and she hadn’t felt like this, or even allowed herself to feel like, since, well, ­forever.

And then Pam saw him, spotted him even amidst all the crowd and even when her brain was fuzzy with martinis and kisses; oh, the irony with which her past bulldozed at her was downright funny.

“Oh my God”, she whispered, ducking her head behind Paul’s broad chest and hiding behind her martini straw.

“What’s wrong?” Paul asked, looking around into the expansive crowd of the bar and then back at her with a confused smile.

“My ex-fiancé is here.”

“Oh.”

Roy and Pam hadn’t exactly left things on a pleasant note, or even cordial. Roy had reacted to her breaking off things like the oblivious baby he was, first refusing to believe she made any sense, then bellowing that he was certain she had cheated on him when Pam told him about the kiss, and then finally begging her to come back and promising that he would change. He had started to call her at the office, even show up at her desk, often drunk, his pleading frequently turning into anger and shouting. And after a DUI and a drunk stunt at the office (which had propelled Dwight to pull Roy away from her and shoot him with pepper spray), Michal and Toby had asked him to quit. This happened almost six months ago, and last Pam had heard, he  was working at a gravel company.

Paul knew about this, at least enough to know that Pam never wanted to see her ex-fiancé again. But here he was, and Pam could figure out even from a distance that he was drunk. She had seen that face in her life way more times than necessary.

“He’s drunk. He will create a scene.”

Pam voiced her thoughts in a whisper, her eyes shifting between her drink, Roy and a quite baffled Paul. She felt sorry for him, for pulling him into the mess her life was. She looked at the other side to see her co-workers seated across the bar table, laughing and joking. She knew they would all come by her side if Roy tried to pull off another one of his stunts.

But suddenly Pam didn’t feel very safe. Her fanciness was wearing off, her status quo shifting, and her mind was too fuzzy to handle this. Suddenly, she missed Jim.

He always knew what to do to make her feel better.

“Well, he wouldn’t do anything in front of all these people. And I am here. We are all here, Don’t worry.” Paul carefully placed a hand over hers, and Pam nodded absently. She could see he was trying. They were both trying.

Pam tried to clear her head as she saw Roy clearly making his way towards her, an equally drunk Kenny in tow. And soon he was standing over her, and she felt herself standing too. Somewhere behind her, she felt all her co-workers quiet down.

“So you got yourself a new toy?” Pam could smell the whiskey off this breath, but his words weren’t slurry. That made Pam feel slightly better.

“Roy”, she hissed, a tone she hated on herself. “Come on, don’t create another scene. You are drunk. You should go home.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore.” Pam winced at the pain evident in his voice. She didn’t want to hurt him anymore. She was almost considering taking him by her hand to a place where they could really talk this out, but then he moved closer and she saw Paul inch in closer as well.

Oh god, why is this happening to me.

Despite herself, her body stiffened, and her knees buckled as Roy towered over. “I never realised you were such a whore, Pam. At least properly mourn our fucking ten-year relationship.”

“Hey, watch it.” Paul’s voice was surprisingly controlled and calm, and he was moving towards Roy before Pam shot him a look. “Paul, please, let it be. I can handle this.” She just did not feel comfortable Paul handling for her a fight with Roy, because he didn’t belong here, he didn’t know anything about this. He didn’t know her.

“Aw, Pammy’s got herself a new bodyguard.” Roy got distracted for a moment in taking in Paul, but then spun back to Pam, this time grabbling her arm. “Have you slept with him yet?”

“Oh come on Roy, stop being disgusting.” More than scared, Pam was simply feeling embarrassed at this, as if a façade she had built in front of everybody, in front of Paul, of a fancy new everything, was coming right apart.

But then Roy pushed her against the bar, stumbling both of them across the stool behind her as Pam felt a sharp jolt of pain hit her spine, her mind going numb for a second before Roy’s nails digging in the skin of her arms making her yelp in pain.

And then there was a moment of commotion as everybody stood and moved and shouted and pulled and pushed as Pam saw Jim; he appeared in front of her eyes as if out of thin air. He was pulling off a slumped Roy from the stool in front of her, his face twisted in anger and agony when their eyes met, and Pam broke in an ocean of sobs as he took her in his arms.

And in that moment, as his arms went around her waist as if they had no place else to be, her body melting against his, breathing in a scent she hadn't in centuries, even as everything fancy she had built crumbled around her, Pam felt her status quo finally getting restored.

***