It wasn’t that they looked over at each other less for the next few days. It was simply that they knew the feeling of being watched by the other so well that it made it easy to not look over at the same time. Jim avoided playing pranks on Dwight to the point Dwight actually complained to Michael that he was suspicious of Jim planning something. Pam almost laughed when she overheard the conversation, until she remembered that she and Jim were navigating a new dynamic in their friendship. The ‘interaction’ gauge was presently at zero. She’d watched Jim even talk to Angela of all people, but nothing directed to her.

For a few days, Pam hoped Jim would initiate… something, anything. An IM. A conversation. A hint of a prank. She craved Jim’s attention with such intensity that she spent a full workday wondering if this is what a break-up felt like. Given that she was still with the one boyfriend she’d ever had, she had no clue, and dedicated her evening to wondering if she’d feel this way if she broke up with Roy. She painted herself for the first time in her life that evening, a figure standing in front of a house with a terrace, and realised she had her answer. Pam knew it wasn’t the answer she was supposed to have. She hung the painting in the second bedroom. 

Pam had also come to the realisation that maybe it was her turn to… try with Jim, rather than expecting it to always be on him. She could live with the guilt of not being the perfect fiancée she was meant to be, and she could live with the difficulties her relationship with Roy created for her, but she couldn’t live without her best friend. She filed those thoughts away for another day too, figuring she could work through them while she stared at her new painting.

“Hey, umm, Jim,” Pam just about pinched the end of Jim's coat sleeve as he made to leave the office for the day. Jim turned to look at her silently. “I’m… could we have lunch tomorrow? Please?” 

Slightly taken aback by the offer – and the fact that it was coming from Pam – Jim simply nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Okay,” Pam gave him a tiny smile. “I’ll make pesto pasta.”

Jim’s mind quickly reminded him of the time Pam had mentioned that she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had cooked for her. “It’s okay, I can whip up some grilled cheese.” 

“Oh, thanks. Sounds good.” 

“Yeah. See you at lunch tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, see you at lunch.” 

She let go of his sleeve at last, feeling every bit as anxious and giddy and confused as she had when she’d invited him to lunch at Cugino’s when he’d first started at Dunder Mifflin.

*

“Oh my God, I almost forgot how good these were,” Pam said, barely just finishing her first bite before she spoke.

“Thanks,” Jim threw her an appreciative smile. He watched in amusement as she took another bite in quick succession.

“No, thank you.”

For a few minutes they ate in silence – not a truly comfortable silence like they used to, but not entirely uncomfortable either. With the ice broken, they threw each other quick glances as though they were making up for the last few days of completely ignoring each other. Eventually Pam reminded herself that as she was the one who had invited him to lunch, she ought to be the one to start the conversation. She had invited him up to the roof so they could have some privacy, and she had to admit that made it a little easier to get started – less confined than their confessions in the kitchen. 

“You were right, you know.”

“About what?”

“Well, when I thought it was Angela who complained, you asked me what Roy thought. So the other day I told him someone at work complained about my wedding planning.” Pam paused to take another bite of the sandwich as she watched Jim chew slowly. She figured he hadn’t expected her to bring Roy up this early in the conversation, if at all. “He said ‘who cares, it’s just someone you work with’ and turned the volume up on the TV.”

“Ah.”

“That’s why I don’t bother him with this stuff. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t realise that ‘someone I work with’ is my best friend – and I know you’re thinking he should know this stuff, he’s my fiancé and he should care. I wish he did too but maybe that’s just what happens when you’ve been with someone for so long. I mean, maybe I wouldn’t care either if he said… I don’t know, Darryl, got annoyed with him planning his wedding at work. I don’t know, I guess they don’t have the same… dynamic as we do and-” Pam huffed as she looked at her almost-finished sandwich. She knew she was rambling; her thoughts seemed to run around hand-in-hand with her anxiety sometimes. “The truth is sometimes I’d just rather… talk to you about stuff. Not just because you listen, but because your opinion really matters to me.”

“Oh.” Jim’s brows raised up in surprise – not necessarily because he didn’t know that she really did value his thoughts, but because he had never expected Pam to tell him just how much.

“Yeah. I don’t know what that says about… me as a person or as a… as a fiancée, but…” she shrugged, looking shyly up at him. “Anyway, I think that’s why I was so upset that you had complained – or, at least, one of the reasons – and I’m… it also mattered to me that you were upset about it.” 

Watching as Pam continued with her sandwich, Jim took that as his natural cue to continue the conversation. He cleared his throat and put his plate on his lap. “I mean… I meant what I said the other day, and… I guess I’m not sure what that says about me as a person either. Or as your best friend.” He could feel Pam staring up at him, so he stared at his knees for a moment. “But I am sorry that it went that far.” 

Nodding, Pam bit her lip. She knew the feeling well. While she hoped Jim could understand what she wasn’t saying out loud, she for once felt pretty sure of what he wasn’t saying out loud. “Even if it makes it more difficult for you to say or for me to hear – or the other way – can we maybe agree to just… not make it into some whole office drama?”

“Yeah,” Jim let out an awkward chuckle. “I think that’s fair.”

They were silent again as they finished eating, deep in contemplation. After dabbing at her mouth with a napkin, Pam opened her soda can and frowned. “I hated arguing with you. I hated being upset with you. I know we’ve had… weird moments before but that was never…” Pam sighed. “These last few days have been like I keep getting the wrong drink. I ordered a black coffee but got a latte. I selected a Coke but I got sparkling water. My best friend was there but I got… nobody.”

“No, I can’t say I enjoyed it either,” Jim agreed. He knew Pam never had the courage to tell the barista if her drink was wrong, and if she got the wrong drink in the vending machine she wouldn’t bother getting the correct one. He appreciated that being the one to reach out first was a big step for her. “I know you were really upset about the complaint even before you knew it was me and you’re right, I should have just spoken to you about it. I just thought it might make things weird since… well, lesson learned.”

“Yeah.”

“And Pam, I hope you know that I really am on your side. Even if the wedding planning stuff feels weird for me, or even if we’re having a weird moment or arguing or we're just out of sync, I’m still on your side and still your best friend.”

“It’s nice to hear that,” Pam smiled. She figured somewhere deep down she did know that, but it was nice to hear someone voice their support for her after days of feeling on her own. “Just… almost didn’t feel like that I guess – and I know you’re sorry, it’s… it is what it is – so it’s just nice to know.” 

Clearing his throat, Jim took a sip of his soda. He hated that Pam had felt as though he wasn’t on her side anymore, but he knew that was partially his own fault for keeping such a distance. It hadn’t felt normal but he thought in some ways maybe they had needed it. “You know, Angela gave me carrots. And told me about Pam Pong.”

“Angela gave you carrots?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” Pam snorted. “I almost don’t believe that.”

“I forgot how much I like carrots. They make a good addition to my lunch.”

Wiping a splash of soda fizz from her knee, Pam sighed. “Her Pam Pong scoreboard must be empty for the first time in the history of Pam Pong.”

“Yeah,” Jim smiled. Visiting Pam’s desk was generally the best part of his days, or the times she would come and lean against his desk instead. He recalled Angela telling him Pam hadn’t been happy when she found out about the game and furrowed his brow, not looking directly at Pam as he asked his next question. “Do you… does it bother you?”

“What, Pam Pong?”

“Yeah.”

There was no point in lying, Pam thought. She loved him coming up her desk; she was always more than happy to give up whatever she was doing to talk to him or pull some prank or, in rare cases, help with some other actual work-related issue. She went to the store that sold the good jellybeans because the local one didn’t stock them. She’d intentionally ignore IM’s so he would come over to her desk instead. It had bothered her that Angela had made a game of it and that maybe things weren’t as subtle as they seemed, but she had no plans to permanently stop Jim visiting her desk throughout the day. She knew he wasn’t asking just about the desk visits, though. “Umm, no, not at all.” She waited until he looked up at her and threw him a smile. “The higher the score the better the day.”

Jim couldn’t help the smile lighting up his face, so he turned away slightly. He knew Pam had caught his smile and he was glad they had that understanding between them. Even if Pam was only talking about the actual desk visits, he was still happy. Once he managed to tame his smile down slightly he held out his soda can to hers. “To Pam Pong.”

“To Pam Pong,” Pam grinned, clinking her soda can against Jim’s. She hadn’t thought too much about Angela’s game since she’d brought it up, nor had she thought she’d ever take a particular liking to it or make jokes about it, but here she was making light of it with the very person the game was about. As she watched Jim for a moment, she wondered what other things she could casually admit to in that moment that went beyond the limits of Pam Pong. 

I kissed you at the Dundies and we never spoke about it and maybe we should.

That lunch we had at Cugino’s when you started here was a date.

I don’t know who to talk to about the fact that I’m not actually sure I want to marry Roy.

Dwight and Angela are totally doing it.

Angela found me upset in the bathroom the other day and it felt like being back in high school.

You didn’t IM as much whenever Katy used to phone you and that kinda sucked.

My cousin thinks we’re a way better match and she hasn’t even met you.

Your shirts are way too big for you.

Why didn’t you kiss me on the booze cruise?

Haven’t you known me long enough to know I need a bright-flashing-lights sign to commit to a big move?

It was Jim’s question of “so… are we back to normal?” that broke Pam away from her thoughts. She realised she had taken too long to say anything. The hollow sound Jim’s soda can made as he tapped his fingertips against it made it clear he was almost done with his lunch. Maybe it was better to end on a positive? Pam figured she could still blurt out a truth – any truth – at this point – and what? Fight? Argue again and make things weird between them? Was she supposed to make some joke like put your boxing gloves on Jim because we’re not back to normal and hope he was up for it? Had they not just discussed that it had sucked and they wanted to avoid it?

Pam finished the rest of her soda to swallow the no she wanted to answer with and stood up. “Yeah, back to normal.”