"You do know you’re a boy, right?”

“Always with the observations, Filippelli.”

“Seriously, though, how do you have so much stuff? I showed up at my new apartment with, like, six boxes and a couch.”

She’s sitting on a box labeled BATHROOM KITCHEN STUFF, watching him unpack CDs.

He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m a collector.”

She reaches for a pile of magazines and holds up a Sports Illustrated with Michael Jordan on the cover. “He’s been retired for like a decade.”

“It’s Jordan, and I’m a collector.”

“Pack rat!” She lets out a gasp before dropping to her knees and grabbing a CD from him. “Oh my God! Kenny Loggins?”

“What?” He asks, trying to grab the CD out of her hands. She leans backwards, holding the CD out of his reach. Quite the feat considering how much longer his arms are then hers. “Like you’ve never seen Footloose.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it, but go and buy the DVD if you like the movie, Halpert. Not….” She laughs as she reads the CD title. “‘Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow, the Greatest Hits of Kenny Loggins’”.

He finally manages to pull the CD out of her grasp and tosses it on the floor next to his copy of ‘Dark Side of the Moon’. “I’ll have you know that ‘Danger Zone’ is a great song.”

She presses her forehead against his as she slips a warm hand underneath the hem of his sweater. “You’re such a girl,” she whispers.

“That’s the second time in no more than three minutes that you’ve insinuated that I’m female.” With one fluid motion, he grabs onto the back of her thighs and pulls her onto his lap. His lips meet her neck as he sets out to prove her wrong.

*

She wears a dress to the first party he throws in his new apartment. The last time she wore a dress…

Well, it’s been a while.

She sees Kelly in the corner, motioning to Ryan like he’s a toddler to open wide before shoving a pretzel into his mouth.

She spots Oscar, Kevin, Phyllis, and Bob Vance of Vance Refrigeration near his kitchen, doing shots of tequila.

“Pretty dress.” Phyllis says as Pam approaches.

She smiles as she smooths her hands down the front. It’s not made of silk but the material feels soft and feminine against her skin. It’s a new feeling and she thinks she likes it.

“Wanna shot?” Kevin asks, already salting up his hand for the next round.

“No thanks.” She looks around the room, trying to look casual. “You guys seen Jim?”

Phyllis and Oscar glance at each other with timid eyes as Kevin grins. “Not for a while.”

That’s when she notices the closed door to what must be his bedroom. Then she takes a mental roll call of all the guests and realizes there’s only one other missing coworker.

She grabs the salt from Kevin’s hand. “I’ve changed my mind about that shot.”

*

“Too much alcohol.” Karen slurs, wrestling her way underneath his comforter.

She showed up at his apartment, wobbly on her heels as she told him between fits of giggles that she couldn’t remember where she lived.

He gets her a glass of water and finds a bottle of Advil in an unpacked box labeled POTS AND/OR BOOKS. As he crawls into bed next to her, he promises to finally get his apartment in order tomorrow.

“Did you have fun with the girls?”

“Mmhmm,” she mumbles, her eyes glazed over. “Pam’s sweet….Like really sweet.”

“Yeah, she is,” he says, thankful she’s too drunk to hear his voice crack.

The room becomes quiet and just when he thinks she’s out for the night, she lets out an unladylike snort.

“She’s a pretty good kisser, too.”

*

Jim’s not sure how he found his apartment since he’s not listed yet and Jim’s pretty sure Toby put up a password to block him from looking at personnel info from his computer.

He showed up at his door looking like a lost puppy and Jim had no choice but to let him in.

He fills his glass to the rim for the third time. “That’s your last one, okay?”

“It’s Sprite, Jim.”

“I know, Michael, but I’ve heard stories of how you get after a lot of sugar.”

Michael closes his eyes and sighs. “Pretzel day. You know, she visited me that day?”

"Carol or-"

“Jan.”

“Ah,” Jim says, taking a swig from his glass.

“I made an ass out of myself.” Michael taps his fingers against the oak kitchen table. “Take some advice from a man a little older and much more experienced than yourself, Jim. Never fall for two women at the same time.”

Jim smiles and nods. “I’ll try to remember that, Michael.”

*

He stagers out of his bedroom with tired eyes and crazy hair. He could have sworn he woke up to the sound of girls giggling in his living room. That makes little sense considering this is his apartment and he’s pretty sure guys only wake up to the sound of giggling girls at the Playboy Mansion.

Unless -

“Seriously, Pam, this guy nearly left a scar on my boob. He had teeth like a frickin’ rottweiler.”

Unless, of course, Karen had brought Pam over and used the key he had given last week to let herself in.

Pam’s sprawled across his couch, her skirt hiking to a dangerous territory of her thighs. Karen sits on the floor, her back to the couch, taking a puff of a cigarette before passing it over her shoulder to Pam.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she says, finally noticing him watching them.

“What.....” He pauses, blinking his eyes as he tries to focus on the scene in front of him. He’s not exactly sure what he thinks of his girlfriend and his....whatever talking about men they’ve slept with, and --

“Are you smoking?” He looks directly at Pam. Sweet, innocent Pam

“Pam’s doing a lot of things she’s never done before.” Karen answers for her, reaching back for the cigarette. Pam nods as Karen continues to explain. “You see, we decided tonight that Pam missed out on a lot all those years she was with Warehouse Willie, or whatever the hell his name --”

“Roy,” Pam supplies.

“Right,” Karen says, taking a long drag from the cigarette. “So we’ve decided that it’s never too late to try out all the things you missed in high school and beyond. This week it’s cigarettes. Next week we’re going to buy little white pills from strangers and then start a rumor that Pam’s the town whore.”

Pam erupts with laughter and he glares at Karen. “Whatever,” he says, turning back towards his bedroom. “Just keep it down. And crack a window in here, Karen. I don’t want my living room smelling like Poor Richard’s.”

“Whatever, Dad!” He hears her yell out as he shuts his bedroom door.

It takes him less than two minutes to cool down. He enters the living room this time with three beers and a bag of Doritos.

Her lips are tight and her eyes are dark as he offers her the bottle with raised eyebrows. She finally cracks a small smile, reaching for the beer as she nods to the space next to her on the floor.

He sits and turns to hand Pam a beer and the Doritos.

“First lesson, Pam: cigarettes are only worth it when there are snacks and alcohol involved. And whenever you and Karen are finished with this little exercise, which I feel I should point out sounds like the plot of some Cameron Diaz movie--”

“What?!?” Karen interrupts

“Just remember,” he continues. “Cigarettes will eventually kill you, okay?”

“Yep,” she nods.

“Second lesson is simple. If you really want to be the town whore....just stick with Fillipelli.”

That comment earns him a punch in the arm.

And then she steals his beer.

*

“What’s the object of this game again?” Pam asks, shaking her head at the directions Jim had given to her earlier that day.

“Kill Jim Halpert!” Karen yells, pumping her arms in the air, her hands bunched in tight fists.

“Mature,” Jim mumbles, sitting down next to Pam. He snatches the directions from her hands. “Just play, Beesley. And watch out for Rambo over there. She cheats.”

Pam blocks the arm reaching across from Karen’s side of the couch to smack Jim. “Whatever, guys, just remember that you promised--”

“We know,” Jim cuts her off. “We promise that if you play Call of Duty we’ll watch the Dancing With the Stars results show at eight.”

She pokes his side with an elbow. “You wouldn’t be mocking if you had seen Emmitt’s rhumba last night.”

“Seriously, Jim,” the three of them turn their heads towards the voice coming from the other side of the living room. “The man looks like he’s floating at times.”

They all stare at him with wide eyes until Andy shrugs his shoulder. “What? I’m comfortable enough with my manhood to admit I enjoy ballroom dancing.”

*