A/N: This is an AU fic. Its angsty, its depressing. Don't say I didn't warn you. Also, I wrote this really early in the morning, so if it doesn't make sense…I'm sorry. Okay, so here's the background: Basically, Pam married Roy. Jim went to Stamford, and when that branch closed down, moved to New York with Karen. Also, I don't any of this. So don't sue.
Pam never really had any desire to go to New York. If she was going to travel, she was going to do it the right way, the way that involves planes and suitcases and passports. She wasn't going to have any of this "overnight bag" and "just drive there" kind of crap. However, once she reached the age of forty, and she had been to every continent except for Antarctica, yet she had never seen Times Square, she realized the flaw in her logic. So, one Friday afternoon in the middle of winter, she convinced Roy to go to New York with her. Just for the weekend.
They left the kids with Roy's parents (Pam would have preferred to leave them with her own parents, or even to get a baby sitter, just to avoid leaving them with the people that raised her husband, but it wasn't like she could tell that to Roy), and they began their "trip".
About halfway there, Pam realized yet another flaw in her logic. There is a LOT of traffic going into New York. And not only that, but it was also winter! There was a lot of traffic, and a lot of snow, which in turn made the traffic even worse.
"Babe, why don't we just turn back? We can go to New York another time."
"No, Roy, I want to do this. Besides, we're already halfway there. Turning around now would be pointless."
"But we'll have to drive back Sunday night, and the kids are gonna be all hyped up on sugar, and it's just a-"
"Hassle? Yeah, I know. I guess you're right. Maybe we shouldn't go."
"Alright, babe, we'll turn around the second this lane starts moving."
"And you know what? Let's just not pick the kids up from your parent's house. It's fifteen minutes out of our way, and so it's probably a bit of a hassle too."
"Well, I'm not gonna complain about a weekend alone."
"While we're at it, let's just never have sex again."
"Uh-"
"It's just such a hassle to undress, and then shower, and get dressed again, and my god! Don't even get me started on what a hassle that stupid pill is."
"Okay! I get it, I get it, we'll go to New York."
"Thank you."
They were silent for the rest of the car ride.
Roy was having a terrible time. Really, really horrible. This was probably worse than that time Pam made him go to the Scranton art museum with her. New York was full of art museums. And clothing stores, and plays, my god, the plays! This was definitely, DEFINENTLY worse than the Scranton art museum.
"Hey, honey?" Roy said, coming out of the shower.
"Yeah?"
"I'm not feeling so well. I think I'll just stay in the hotel tomorrow. Do you mind?"
"Oh…you want me to walk around New York…alone?"
"If you don't mind." Pam rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Goodnight." She turned the light off and rolled on her side, facing the wall.
"Oh, you're already going to sleep?"
"Uh, yeah!"
Roy laid down in the bed next to her, and began to trace circles on her arm.
"'Cause, I mean, it's not so often that you and I get to-"
"I thought you weren't feeling well." There was a long pause.
"Goodnight, Pam."
"Goodnight."
New York isn't very fun by yourself. Pam thought as she opened the door to Starbucks for her fourth cup of coffee on Sunday morning. Yesterday, she had had a great time. They went to two plays, two museums, and countless stores. It was the perfect day. Today? Today was kind of shitty. Not only did she wear out all of the hot spots that she REALLY wanted to go see yesterday, but she also wore out her wallet. But she wasn't about to go back to the hotel. No way. She was not going to give Roy that satisfaction. Absentmindedly, she grabbed her coffee and sat down on the nearest chair, sighing. Right as she began to rub her fingers on the hot cup, she heard her name being called.
"Pam? Hey, Pam, over here!" Confused, she looked around the small seating area. That voice almost sounded like-
"Pam! Hey!" Jim. He walked around from behind her chair, smiling at her like he used to, back when…well, back when they were friends.
"Oh my god! Jim!"
"Hey, how are you?" They hugged, coffee and cold forgotten.
"I'm good, how are you?"
"I'm doing really well."
"Your hair is shorter."
"Yeah, well I'm older."
"Oh-yeah, that's right I…I guess you would be!" Pam stammered, still smiling. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, before Pam brought her head down from out of the clouds, and asked him to sit and eat with her.
"So, what do you do now?"
"Uh, I actually, you're not gonna believe this-"
"What, what?"
"I'm a writer for Conan O'Brian."
"No WAY!"
"Yeah."
"That's awesome! Wait, talk shows have writers?"
"Yeah, well Conan sure as hell doesn't come up with all of it himself!"
"Really?"
"Uh, yeah. I mean, it's not like we script the interviews and stuff, just the monologues and the little gags at the beginning of the show."
"Huh."
"Yeah. So are you a big famous artist now?"
"Uh, no, actually. I'm uh, still working at…uh, Dunder Mifflin."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Dwight's still around too."
"Figures."
"Yeah. So…you're married?"
"What?"
"You're wearing a ring."
"Oh, yeah, Karen!"
"Karen?"
"Yeah, we met at, uh, Stamford."
"Oh…that's, that's great."
"Yeah. How's Roy? Where's Roy? Actually, what are you doing here?"
"Uh, we just, um came up for the weekend. He got a little sick last night, so he's at the hotel."
"Oh." They sat in silence for a few moments, trying to push past that sinking feeling they both had in their guts. Pam felt like every second she didn't say something, the farther away from Jim she was getting. Finally, she spoke.
"Listen, I actually really have been wanting to tell you something, but so much time has passed, that I didn't it would be right-"
"No, yeah, go ahead. Say it."
"Um, I'm just…I'm sorry. That I uh…you know, kind of like, led you on or whatever. I mean…it's not that…I just, uh…I think I might have feelings for you too." The last part came out much quicker, and much differently than she intended for it to.
"What?"
"Had. I had feelings for you."
"Oh."
"And you didn't misinterpret things. I just…wanted you to know that."
"Okay." The awkward silence was back, once again. Pam watched as a thousand emotions flashed across Jim's face. Just by looking at him, it was like she could tell every single thing he was thinking, like he was an open book. God, how did he do that?! He could break her heart every single goddamn time she looked at him, with just a flick of sadness fleeting across his face, gone as quickly as it came.
Jim felt slightly out of body. Here he was, a married man, having coffee with the one woman he might, maybe, could consider leaving his wife for, and he couldn't say a word.
"Jim…do you think…"
Oh no. Please don't say it. Please don't say it.
"If things had been…different-"
"But they're not, though." He quickly intercepted. He felt himself putting his guard up, higher and higher, trying to separate his voice from his heart.
"But…if they were."
Pam left it at that, because looking into his eyes, she knew that that was all that needed to be said. There was a pregnant silence as Jim stared back. A moment passed, and then-
"But they're not."
He stood up, and walked out of the coffee shop, leaving Pam to lay her head in her hands, and fight back the tears that inevitably were to come.