“I saw you standing there
Sandy blonde hair, the way it came tumbling down
Just like a waterfall
And if you need a light
I'll be the match to your candle
My darling, I'm ready, to burst into flames for you”
"You going to tell her tonight?"
Jim turned his wrist over to fasten the buckle on his watch, then looked up at Mark who was sitting on their couch with a bag of popcorn and a beer. "I don't know who you're talking about."
Mark threw a popcorn kernel in his general direction. "You know exactly who I'm talking about. Are you going to tell Pam?"
Jim sighed and lifted his shoulders to shrug. "About the transfer?"
"Or about anything else that just happens to be weighing on your soul and slowly crushing you."
"Ignoring that statement. Um, maybe? I just don't know, man. How do I bring it up? That I'm leaving?" Saying the words out loud never made it any easier to grasp them.
"But, dude. She needs to know. As much as it wounds me to say this since, you know, I have known you since high school...she's your best friend. You're set to transfer in a week and she has no idea."
Jim shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced down to his feet. "Yeah…"
"Oh. And don't gamble all your money away tonight. You're buying me a nice steak dinner before you abandon me and leave me with some random new roommate next week."
Jim scoffed and rolled his eyes with a smile, even though he felt a pang of sadness in his chest for all he was leaving behind. Familiarity, friends, family. But the thing he would miss the most, was also the thing that was pushing him 150 miles away from everything he knew, and that seemed to be the hardest truth to grapple with.
"Hey J?" Mark looked at him seriously now, which didn't happen often in the joke-filled friendship they had cultivated over the last ten years. "Tell her. All of it."
Jim just silently nodded with an exhale. “Later, man.”
As he pulled into the parking lot that he had left only two hours earlier, he looked up at the humble yet looming building where he had spent so much of his time over the last several years. It was hard to believe he could count on both hands how many more days he would be walking through the doors.
He parked the car and stepped outside into the parking lot, facing the warehouse doors that were open and echoing with the sounds of roulette tables and loud music. He adjusted his sweater, stuck his keys in his pockets, and walked toward what was sure to be an eventful night.
As he passed the threshold into the warehouse, his eyes instinctively scanned the room for the one pair of eyes he knew he'd absolutely get lost in if she would let him. But instead, he saw her facing the bar, a small smile brushing her lips as she gave the bartender her order. Her hair was different than he was used to--softer and looser--and all he could think about is what it might feel like under his fingers.
She took the drink from the bartender and brought it to her lips. She turned slightly, giving him a perfect view of all of her. The dress she was wearing reflected all the neon light around them and it made his heart trip over itself. He rarely, if ever, got to see her like this, and he almost had to urge his lungs to fill and release the oxygen around him. She was beautiful.
"I was just coasting till we met
You remind me just how good it can get
Well I've been on fire, dreaming of you
Tell me you don't
It feels like you do
Looking like that, you'll open some wounds"
He took the opportunity to simply observe her. With the commotion surrounding them, he was hoping she wouldn't feel his eyes on her so he could drink her in a little longer before reality caught up to him and tugged him to the surface. He could almost hear the proverbial film running as his mind began replaying the last few years of their friendship--a word that he cherished but still always felt bitter on his tongue.
Dunder Mifflin was his first job out of college. School had always been easy enough, if he applied himself. Through high school and college, everything was always just a stepping stone to what he was "supposed" to do next. He floated through high school, getting good enough grades to get into the colleges he wanted but not good enough to get any decent scholarships. He majored in business because it felt like it was a responsible move, and graduated in four years. He stayed close to home after he graduated and took the first sales job he could find after getting his degree--a paper company called Dunder Mifflin--because the pay was enough to cover rent before commission. It was never meant to be a long-term job. It was meant to be just another stepping stone as he coasted through adulthood, trying to figure out what he wanted.
But he walked through the office doors his first day, caught sight of that curly auburn hair, and everything shifted. She showed him to his desk and immediately he knew--he knew she would eventually become a driving force, a voice in his head, a compass when he needed some sort of direction.
And he had been correct. Their friendship grew quickly and naturally. And as much as he tried to quell the rising feelings for her, they still broke through and infiltrated every crevice in his body. Every dam he built was worthless against her smile and her warmth. He met Pam Beesly and suddenly she became his trajectory, even when he knew full well that she was unattainable, the ring on her finger binding her to someone else.
He snapped back to the present as her eyes locked with his in the warehouse, brightening upon seeing him. She gave him a toothy grin, her tongue between her teeth, and raised her fingers to wave at him.
Maybe he didn't have to transfer. Maybe he could survive on that smile, even if he couldn't have her past 5:00 p.m. on weekdays. Maybe he could fool himself into being okay with "just friends". He knew one thing for certain. He absolutely didn't want to leave her. He already felt the ache of missing her deep in his core. He started toward her like a moth to flame, when he saw a hand snake around her back and lips that were not his brush against her temple.
And like a smack in the face, he was reminded exactly why staying would never be an option.
He smiled weakly and waved back, then busied himself with small talk until he saw Roy slip away to a poker table alone. He excused himself from the small group he was in and walked up to Pam, wondering if his heart would ever beat at a steady pace when he was near her and refusing to mentally acknowledge that he only had a week left to find out. He leaned back against the bar next to her and folded his arms against his chest.
“You feeling lucky tonight, Beesly?”
“Well, I’m not sure. I don’t have telekinetic powers like some people I know,” she winked with a smile.
Jim let out a small laugh and turned toward the bar to order a drink. “That was quick thinking this morning with the umbrella, by the way. I was impressed.”
Pam shrugged and took a small sip of her wine. “What can I say? We make a good team.”
His stomach clenched as he forced a smile and ordered something stronger than the beer he had been planning on. Before he walked into the warehouse that night, he had every intention of telling her about the transfer. But now, standing next to her, listening to her talk so fondly of their friendship, he had no idea how he would ever bring it up.
The night went on and Jim continued to brush shoulders with her. They found each other by the food and then again later at a craps table. But it wasn’t until he was sitting across from her playing poker, that the reality really set in that he was going to leave this all behind. His crazy boss, this building that housed so many memories, and her. The girl he loved. The girl with a terrible poker face and a laugh that he craved. He wanted to press pause on it all and soak up the glimmer in her eyes and the way her hair caught the light and how she managed to make him feel like it was just the two of them in a crowded room. He wanted to bottle up all the good parts, the parts that kept him going, and bring them with him to Connecticut. If only he could.
After she had successfully taken all of his money, he retreated to the bar again to grab another drink. When he turned around, she had left the table and all he saw was the edge of her dress as she walked outside. Figuring this was his chance to get her alone and tell her he was leaving, he drank the contents of his glass in three gulps and followed her out.
Instead of finding Pam when he opened the door, he found Jan outside, smoking a cigarette. They began talking and as the conversation veered in the direction of discussing Michael, Jan thankfully changed the subject.
"Have you given any more thought to the transfer?"
It had only consumed his every thought the past week. "Oh, yeah."
"Good, have you told anyone?"
"No." Not yet.
"Well, you should."
After a few more pleasantries, Jan retreated back inside as Jim mustered up the courage to find Pam.
As he turned the corner, he saw the taillights of Roy's truck and his heart sank. They were leaving and he had missed his chance to tell her. Now he would have to sit with the festering pit in stomach all weekend. It wasn't until he heard Roy call to him out the passenger side window that he realized Pam wasn't even inside the truck.
"Hey Halpert! Keep an eye on her for me, will ya?"
Jim raised a hand in acknowledgement. "Will do!"
He watched as Roy's pulled into the street and Pam turned to face him. This was his chance to let her know.
"Hey, can I talk to you about something?"
"Oh, about when you want to give me more of your money?"
"No, I…"
"Did you want to do that now? We can go inside. Because I'm feeling kinda good tonight."
He locked eyes with her, heart pounding. The inevitable question that would follow him telling her he was leaving, would be why, and he wasn't quite sure what he would say then. "No, I just…"
He looked at her, choking on the words he knew he needed to say and the ones he knew he shouldn't. He furrowed his brow and swallowed hard. "Do you...want to get out of here?"
"What?"
He let out a nervous laugh. "I'm just over the crowd and I'm not ready to lose more money. And Hooters catering actually isn't that great."
She cocked her head to the side and looked at him for a few seconds before giving him a wry smile.
"Yeah," her smile widened. "I do."
"Only been here for a moment
But I know I want you
But is it too soon?
To know that I'm with you"
Maybe it was the nervous tremble in his voice or the way he seemed to be able to look straight through her, but something made her agree to leave the company party with somebody other than her fiance. But even she knew that he wasn't just "somebody". It was Jim.
It was already after 10:00, so she wasn't sure where they were going to go or what we were doing to do, and as she slid into the front seat of Jim's car, it was easy to sense that he didn't know either. He drummed on the steering wheel twice and looked over at her with a chuckle.
"I, uh, didn't really plan what came next. I just couldn't hear Michael yell 'Shuffle up and deal!" anymore."
She giggled. "Agreed. We could...go get some ice cream?"
His smile spread, fully reaching his eyes and she felt a flutter in her stomach. It wasn't a rare occurrence, feeling a surge of something when she was with him, but now in the confinement of his small car, this time it seemed harder to excuse and ignore. Jim pushed his sleeve up slightly and she watched his large, slender hand grasp the gear shift and put the car into reverse. She hoped the dark night would mask the slight flush in her cheeks.
They pulled into a Dairy Queen drive-thru and Jim rolled down his window.
"Are you going to ask what I want?" she questioned..
"No," he said, a smile breaking through. "Because I know it's a strawberry banana blizzard."
"Wi--"
"With a sprinkle of mini chocolate chips on top."
Her mouth hung open in amazed amusement that he knew her order. Roy still forgot she was allergic to pecans every Thanksgiving and they had been together for over a decade. She shook her head a little as she leaned back into her seat and stopped her train of thought. Early on, Pam learned she needed to stop comparing Roy and Jim. It started off as a deliberate attempt, but soon it became habit to compartmentalize them and keep them separate in her mind. Now, though, they were displaced from their normal habitat of the office and suddenly her brain wasn't on autopilot anymore. She was noticing him. She was noticing his mouth, his hands, his laugh. She was noticing how he looked at her.
And she couldn't decipher how it made her feel.
Jim pulled up to the next window to get their ice cream. Even the way he treated the employee caught her attention. Had it always been like this? He had always been there, her best friend. But why was her breath catching all of the sudden when his fingers brushed against hers as he handed the cup to her? Why couldn’t she stop looking at him in that sweater?
Again, she brushed it off, fiddling with her ring. Jim took a big bite of ice cream and looked over to her.
“Hey,” he said through vanilla ice cream and M&Ms. “I forgot to tell you. My brother gave me his copy of The Prestige. I guess they had two? Did you ever get to see it?”
“No! We kept meaning to go see it in theaters and then it didn’t happen. And I still haven’t seen it.” She left out the part about Roy seeing it without her. Twice.
"I'll have to let you borrow it sometime." She thought he saw his face flicker, like he suddenly remembered something. "Or," he continued. "I know it's getting late, but we could watch it tonight."
She weighed the decision in her head. Roy had already texted her to say he was crashing at Kenny's, so it wasn’t like he would be waiting up for her. Somewhere under the surface, she knew she shouldn't go. She was feeling the familiar gravitational pull she so often dismissed as simply friendship but now the lines in her mind were beginning to blur and she wasn’t sure what might happen if she ended up going to his house at nearly 11 o’clock at night.
And maybe if he stopped looking at her like that, she would have trusted that instinct.
“Let’s do it,” she told him cheerfully.
They pulled up to Jim’s apartment and stepped into the brisk night air. Pam looked up to the sky and breathed in a breath of unusually humid air. “It looks like it might rain tonight. I didn’t think that was in the forecast.”
Jim looked up too. “Huh. Neither did I.”
She followed him inside, hugging her arms to her chest. She had been here once before, for Jim’s barbeque last fall. It was pretty much exactly how it had been then, only this time it wasn't slightly messier. Jim began frantically picking things up, kicking shoes toward the wall, and straightening pillows.
“Uh, just make yourself at home. I’m going to go pop some popcorn because every movie needs popcorn.”
Pam chuckled. “I actually need to use your restroom, is that okay?”
“Of course! Down that hallway and to your right. If it isn’t clean, it’s Mark’s fault. Mostly because he’s working the night shift and can’t defend himself.”
She laughed and made her way down the hall. Once inside, she zipped down her dress and used the bathroom. When she was finished, she immediately remembered that she was completely unable to zip her dress back up by herself. Roy had helped her at home after she struggled for 10 minutes by herself. So now she was in Jim’s bathroom with her dress half zipped and panic rising in her chest. After pacing wall to wall and trying to become a contortionist to fasten the dress, she gave up and sighed. She would have to ask him to zip it up. There was no getting around it. Squeezing her eyes shut she cracked the door and called for him through the opening.
“Um, Jim?” she called.
“Yeah?” he yelled back from the kitchen.
She closed her eyes tighter and grimaced. “Can you, uh, help me with something?”
His footsteps approached the bathroom and she saw him appear outside the crack in the door. “What’s up?” he asked, concern on his face.
She opened the door a little wider. “I...can’t get my dress zipped up.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh,” he shifted on his feet and suddenly seemed nervous. “Yeah, uh. No. No problem.”
She opened the door fully and turned around. She had been able to get the zipper just below her bra clasp and the fact that Jim would be seeing her bra made her want to crawl into a deep dark hole. This was definitely outside the realm of “normal office friendship”.
Pam slid her hair to the side of one shoulder and as she did, she swore she heard a small, but sharp, intake of air behind her. Jim seemed to hesitate before grabbing the pull and sliding the zipper up slowly. She could almost feel his breath on her neck and chills spread through every single nerve ending on her body.
Jim quickly moved his hands and cleared his throat. “So, uh, there you go. Popcorn should be ready any second and we can start.”
“Yep. Thanks,” she said, unable to meet his eyes.
Jim turned back to the kitchen and she finally let out a giant breath she didn’t realize she was holding and followed behind him.
"And sometime around one
We fell asleep to escape from the sun
And we woke up to the sound of a storm outside
We stood at your front door
You looked at me and said "baby, this rain changes everything"
And my heart ran away from me"
When she woke up, she noticed two things. The first was the rain pattering against the roof and the other was the placement of her head on Jim’s shoulder. The DVD menu was playing on repeat and she could tell from his breathing that Jim was asleep. Her mind told her to sit up, move away. But inexplicably, she didn’t want to. She wanted to keep his warmth next to her and fall back to sleep.
The rain began coming down in sheets and Jim stirred. When he came to, he glanced down to Pam as she sat up and bashfully smiled.
“Hey,” he said sleepily as he rubbed his eyes. “Sorry. Must have fallen asleep.”
“Me too,” she laughed quietly. She glanced upward. “It’s really coming down. Mind if I go watch? I kind of have a thing for rainstorms.”
Jim pushed himself off the couch. “Go right ahead. I’ll join you in a minute.”
She walked out the front door and lowered herself onto the first covered step on his porch. The sound and smell of the rain coming down caused a smile find her lips. There really was just something about a good rainstorm.
The door creaked open behind her and Jim walked out. He handed her a glass of water and a blanket, then sat down next to her.
“Thought you might get cold,” he said.
Pam wrapped the blanket around her and thanked him. She inhaled, noticing the blanket smelled like him and she hugged it tighter around her shoulders. She leaned her head against the railing as they sat quietly, serenaded by the symphony of raindrops.
Her lips pulled into a small smile. “I love the rain.”
“Hmmm…” he mumbled in content agreement.
“My grandma always used to watch the rain with me. She always used to say...she would say, ‘Pammy, the rain is for you, sweet girl.’ She told me whenever I was sad, we would get the thunder and when I was happy, the rain fell through the sunshine. I know it’s not true, but when I was little it made me feel special. Like I could control the rain.”
She glanced over to Jim, whose brow had furrowed as he stared into the storm. He clasped his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees. His eyes dropped to his feet.
“I know what that’s like,” he said almost too quietly to hear.
She tilted her head to the side. “Know what what is like?”
He was quiet as he ran one thumb over the other. He shifted and looked at her, his eyes soft, but piercing.
“I know what it’s like to be affected by you.”
All the air left her lungs. She couldn’t seem to fill them again to form words, so she just looked back at him, trying to interpret every syllable he had just said.
He looked back down to his feet, silent again. After what seemed like a lifetime, he spoke again somberly.
“I’m transferring, Pam.”
"I was just coasting till we met
You remind me just how good it can get
Well I've been on fire, dreaming of you
Tell me you don't
It feels like you do"
“You’re what?!” she breathed. “Where? When?”
He still couldn’t seem to look at her and she wanted to reach over and shake the answers out of him. Her mind was racing and ricocheting off of his words and she couldn’t seem to get a firm grasp on any of it.
“Stamford. I leave Tuesday,” he whispered over the rain.
“Jim...”
“I wanted to tell you sooner, I just…” he finally met her eyes and she saw they were brimmed with emotion and he shrugged, seemingly unable to choke out the rest of the sentence.
“But...why?” her voice broke. She wanted to know, honestly she did. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear him say it--didn’t want him to break the glass barrier she had purposely put between them in order to avoid feeling things she wasn’t allowed to feel.
He just stared at her as his mouth turned down to a frown and his jaw clenched. “I realized I don’t have a future here.”
He turned his head away from her, but not before she caught the tear that fell down his cheek as he discretely tried to brush it away. Suddenly, the weight of his words fell on her shoulders. Her best friend was leaving in less than a week and she wasn’t sure how she could ever let him go.
There was so much he wasn’t saying with words, but she felt them through the silence anyway. A large part of her didn’t want him to tell her the things she had always suspected in the back of her mind but refused to acknowledge. But the tiniest part of her brain was pleading for him to confirm it. To tell her. To break the barrier they so masterfully crafted.
Because tonight, she realized she just might feel the same way and it terrified her.
Pam wasn’t a planner, but there had always been a direction for her life. She and Roy would get married, have kids, stay in Scranton. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was her life. Then a floppy-haired salesman walked through the office doors and slowly he began filling in the gaps she didn’t know she had until slowly those gaps started to become the most important parts of her. And now it was being ripped away.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered. There was so much she could say, but it all seemed to be lodged in the lump in her throat.
Jim sniffled and forced a smile. “You don’t have to say anything.” His face fell slightly. “But I’m really going to miss you, Beesly.”
“Jim.”
“We should get you home,” he said abruptly. “It’s late.”
She knitted her eyebrows. “Yeah…but…”
“Is it okay if I call you a cab? I would take you but I’m pretty tired and it’s probably best if I don’t drive.”
She felt stunned. “Okay.”
Jim stood up and went inside to call a cab. In the distance, she heard a clap of thunder. As she felt her sadness begin to pool up inside her, she thought that maybe her grandma had always been right after all.
"There's nothing I won't do to see you shine
I'll swing for the fences
I'll run to the line
And it's high time that you love me
'Cause you do it so well"
Jim hung up with the cab service and placed his hands on the edge of the counter. Well, now she knew. And maybe she knew even more than just the fact that he was leaving. His feelings for her had laced his words, even if he didn't explicitly say it. He ran his hands over his face, sighed, grabbed an umbrella, and went back outside.
She was still sitting on the step, watching the rain that was coming down with less ferocity now. His heart ached to hold her close. He sank down next to her and wordlessly, she lowered her head to his shoulder. His chest constricted with her touch and he closed his eyes, taking in the smell of her shampoo. He rested his head against hers and from her jagged breath, he could tell she had been crying.
"I'm going to miss you too," she muttered sadly. "So much."
They sat in silence until the headlights of the cab pulled up to the curb. He stood and reached down to help her up. She grabbed his hand to stand and as they huddled under the umbrella and walked to the cab she didn't drop it.
Outside the cab door, she turned and looked up at him. There was so much more he wanted--needed--to tell her, but her eyes were locked on his and words seem to fail him. He gazed back, hoping his own eyes could convey what he wanted to say--what he had always wanted to say. He felt her hand squeeze his.
"Ji--"
He cut her off, pressing his lips against hers firmly, the umbrella dropping to the ground. She was still at first, then slowly she raised her hand to his jaw, dipping her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss, setting his skin on fire. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, desperate to memorize how her lips felt against his and the way her body seemed to become part of him. He knew would never get this chance again, so all he could do was attempt to tattoo it on his memory.
She broke away and rested her forehead on his, hands on his chest, breath heavy. Jim swallowed hard and ran a hand down her back before stepping back slightly. He looked at her again, searching her eyes.
"I just...needed to do that," he uttered softly. "Once."
He leaned back in and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead, now wet with rain, and turned back toward his house, grabbing the umbrella on his way in.
He didn't dare look behind him. He couldn't see her standing there, knowing he still couldn't have her. It would break him, and he was already hanging by a thread as it was.
He waited until the door was shut behind him, muting the sound of the rain outside, before allowing himself to crumble. He stumbled into the kitchen and let one single shuddered sob escape his chest. He had been holding so much in for so long, and now it was finally spilling out. He sucked in a deep breath and wiped his eyes, trying to compose himself.
As he turned around, he was startled.
Pam, soaked head to toe, was standing in the doorway of his kitchen. He stilled, knitting his eyebrows.
"Pam?"
"Stay."
His breath hitched. "What?"
She took a step toward him, shivering in her wet dress. "Don't go to Stamford. Stay." Her forehead crinkled as she bit back tears. "With me."
In two long strides, he was in her arms again. He pressed his lips to hers gently. Pulling back and locking eyes with her, he stroked her cheek with his thumb.
"Okay."
Oh, darling, I'm with you.
Story Notes:
Because sometimes you listen to music and these little ideas weasle their way to the forefront of your brain and can't be ignored.
Inspired by the song "I'm With You" by Vance Joy, which I don't own, despite how many times I've listened to it. I don't own The Office or these characters either. Rude.
Inspired by the song "I'm With You" by Vance Joy, which I don't own, despite how many times I've listened to it. I don't own The Office or these characters either. Rude.
WanderingWatchtower is the author of 23 other stories.
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