Chapter 8: Conclusion/Epilogue

Pam's first instinct, of course, was to drive to Jim's, but then she remembered how they'd left things, so she drove toward Isabel's instead. He'd been understandably angry that she seemed to have chosen Roy over him…again. To some degree he'd been right, but not for the reasons he thought.

She'd still been dealing with guilt where Roy was concerned, even though, as it turned out, he'd done even more crappy things than she'd suspected. She had blamed herself for his accident because he'd gotten drunk because of her. She should have done the proper thing and broken up with him in person, not in an angry tantrum over the phone.

She'd devoted ten years of her life to the man; just leaving him, helpless and impaired, to fend for himself, was not something she could live with—well, before tonight. She supposed Jim understood her taking care of Roy on some level, but she totally didn't blame him for expecting her to wash her hands of Roy completely, given what Jim had witnessed himself of her ex's behavior—not to mention the fact that she'd slept with Jim on two separate occasions now.

Yes, Roy probably deserved her anger and worse, but Pam just wasn't the vengeful type—at least she hadn't used to be. And she smirked now through her tears, remembering the ketchup mess she'd left him with. He'd looked like a gunshot victim. It really had felt damn good to do something, and she ached to share her proud moment with Jim.

But would he appreciate it now? Or would he tell her he'd told her so, talk to her coldly like he had before she'd left his house earlier? Maybe his patience had finally found its limits. Maybe, after finally getting her into bed, he'd realized she and her baggage hadn't been worth it. Especially since she hadn't even told him she was in love with him.

God, Pam, she said to herself, as she drove on to the warm welcome of her cousin. How could you be so stupid, so blind? What man would put up with all this drama?

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three beers in, Jim sat in front of the TV with Mark, unable to focus on that night's March Madness game, even though he had money riding on it with Kevin and Toby. He just couldn't stop thinking about what had happened with Pam, and he felt sick to his stomach, wondering if his jealousy and impatience had ruined everything.

Mark's sudden yell at the screen made Jim jump, and his roommate turned to him in excitement.

"Did you see that, man? What the hell is that ref thinking?"

Jim made a noncommittal grunt, and Mark looked sharply at him. "Are you even paying attention? I thought you had twenty bucks on this game."

"Sorry, my mind's somewhere else."

With a long-suffering sigh, Mark muted the TV.

"Let me guess: Pam."

Jim shrugged, took a swig from his bottle, tasting nothing. "I think I totally fucked things up with her." He was embarrassed to feel his eyes welling up.

He'd filled Mark in on most of what had happened on their trip, then about Roy's accident, and while he knew Mark was rooting for him, having been Jim's sounding board on all things Pam the past three years, he also knew Jim's penchant for self-sabotage.

"What did you do?"

"I basically told her she was picking Roy over me. Well, not in so many words—she read me loud and clear though. I wasn't very sensitive about it either. God, I'm such an idiot!" He slammed down his beer, Mark wincing at the sound and the mark the bottle would probably leave on the table.

"Hey, she's given you mixed signals for years; I don't blame you for being pissed."

Jim was tempted to defend her, but he was too mentally exhausted to make the effort. And besides, he thought guiltily, he was sort of right. Jim got up to get another beer, wishing they had something more potent in the house, but after two more, Jim fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep on the couch. He awoke the next morning to find that Mark had thrown a blanket over him. The old softie, Jim thought with a grin, before the events of the last few days flooded back and he frowned sadly.

Jim reached for his phone where he'd left it on the coffee table, disappointed to find no missed calls or waiting texts. He thought fleetingly of skipping work, but with Pam home taking care of Roy, there wouldn't be a point in hiding. Besides, he'd go crazy sitting at home dwelling on what he'd lost. Head aching, more from the awkward sleeping position on the too-short couch than a hangover, he got up and sighed in resignation on the way to the shower.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When he pulled into the office building parking lot, his heart stuttered, then picked up speed when he saw Pam's car in her usual spot. She wasn't in the car waiting for him, so she must be upstairs. But why? As he rode up the elevator with Stanley and Kevin, he didn't allow himself to hope what this meant.

"I guess I owe you ten bucks," said Kevin sheepishly just before the elevator stopped on the second floor.

"Oh, uh, really? I didn't watch the second half. Fell asleep on the couch."

"You're kidding me," said Kevin. "That was an awesome game, even if I lost."

Jim vaguely remembered Mark doing a lot of yelling and griping, but Jim had been too wrapped up in his own misery to pay attention.

"We get paid tomorrow, then I can pay you."

"Sure," said Jim. "Whenever, Kev."

"Unless you want double or nothing on tonight's game…"

Jim chuckled as the doors slid open. "Okay. Deal. But I hate to keep taking your hard-earned money."

"You won't, if you take Boston again."

Jim knew the odds weren't in his favor, but it was a family tradition to back Boston in all things. "I'll take my chances."

Pam was sitting at her desk, and looked up as the trio came in, her eyes involuntarily catching Jim's before she blushed and looked away.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully, and the other two men gave her a polite reply.

Jim took his time hanging up his coat, giving his coworkers time to get well away.

"Hey," he said, advancing on Pam's desk. "I'm surprised to see you here."

She looked around nervously, afraid their conversation might be overheard by coworkers or the doc crew. Sure enough, Angela frowned in disapproval as she walked past them on her way in, but the doc crew was still setting up for the day.

"Let's talk at lunch," she said softly, still not looking at him straight on. "Somewhere else."

Jim nodded, though his whole body seemed to be shaking. This didn't bode well for the surge of hope he'd felt in the parking lot earlier.

"My car. Noon." When his words came out clipped and bossy, he modified them with: "Please?"

"Okay," and she met held his gaze for the first time that morning, a tinge of humor there.

Feeling somewhat relieved and hopeful once more, he smiled back, then went to his desk.

The morning trudged by, and much like the night before, he barely remembered any of it. He went through the motions of making and receiving calls, filling out order forms, even interacting with Dwight. But he couldn't have repeated the details of the day if his life had depended on it. Fortunately for him and Pam, there was some Ryan and Kelly drama that the documentarians could focus on, so since he and Pam seemed to be busy doing their work, the crew basically ignored them.

At 11:58, he got up, grabbed his suit coat from the back of his chair, and bolted for the door, taking the stairs down in order to burn some of his nervous energy and avoid the cameras. He waited in his car an agonizing ten minutes before she came, slipping quickly into the passenger side with an awkward "Hi."

He started the car and drove out of the parking lot before her seatbelt was fully buckled. His mind was racing, and he knew that if his heart was about to be torn from his chest, he didn't want it to happen in a restaurant or some other busy public place.

"How about the park?" she suggested, reading his mind.

"Yeah," he said gratefully. He drove to the park a few blocks down the road.

It was the warmest day of the year so far, in the upper sixties, and the playground area was filled with pre-school aged children and their parents or chaperones, so Jim parked on the other side of the park, near a shaded picnic area beneath newly budding trees. When they got out of the car, he took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of fresh green grass and blooming flowers. He was surprised that it actually helped calm him.

"I love spring," Pam said, squinting up at the warm sun before taking a cleansing breath of her own.

"Yeah," he replied. He was more of an autumn person, but he liked the reprieve of the welcome warmth and vivid greenness that replaced the drabness of winter.

Halfway to the picnic tables, Pam touched his arm and he abruptly stopped.

"Are you still mad at me?" she asked in a small voice.

He turned to look at her, the glint of the sun off her golden curls almost painfully beautiful to him. He couldn't help but admire her creamy complexion, whimsically sprinkled with freckles, a touch of rose in her cheeks; but it was her eyes, pale green in the afternoon light, that nearly did him in.

"Yes," he said, but he smiled, because the anger had fully drained from his body in the presence of her ethereal beauty. He could never be mad at her for long, he realized, and no matter what became of them, she would always hold his heart (among other parts) in her small, white hands. It made his smile widen to think of it.

She grinned shyly back, relief evident in the relaxation of her cardigan clad shoulders.

"I wouldn't blame you if you were. But you have to understand, Jim, I thought in my heart I was doing the right thing."

His weekend of hell returned to him full force, and he had to get a few things off his chest or he might truly go insane. He was glad when his words came out sounding more frustrated than angry.

"How could you go back to him, after we—we made love, after I told you how I feel? I don't get it Pam. His mom could have helped him. Hell, Kenny could have pulled down his freakin' pants for him! How could you-?"

"I was wrong," she interrupted. "I was a fool, and you called it. I wish I'd listened to you, but I couldn't see doing it any other way. God, I feel so stupid!"

Well, that took the wind from his sails. "Wait—what? How exactly did I call it?"

She looked down at the soft grass beneath her feet. "He was faking it. The memory loss. I came home last night with his dinner, and I-I heard him and Kenny talking about it. He was manipulating me to stay there, hoping to get me back. So you called it, like I said, and I chose to take his word over yours. Can you ever forgive me?"

Jim felt the earth shift beneath his feet, felt suddenly unbalanced, dizzy with a mix of overwhelming love and gratitude and relief. But anger had returned too, this time at Roy, and his fists clenched with the strong desire to find the asshole and punch his lights out. But he forced himself to take another breath, to try to steady himself against the onslaught of helpless emotions. He made himself stand still, despite the spinning of the world. He swallowed hard, summoning his courage to reply honestly to her question.

"That depends…do you love me, Pam? Can you say it? Can you choose me, and only me, once and for all? Because I don't know if I—"

But his words were cut off by her mouth on his, and for a moment he was paralyzed. Then her hands slid purposefully into his hair, and she took advantage of his dropped jaw to tiptoe up and slip her tongue into his mouth. With a helpless moan, he finally kissed her back, holding her as closely as he could, trying to blot out the pain of the last few days with the healing power of her soft lips.

They separated for breath, and he buried his face in her soft curls.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Me too." He stepped back to look at her, still determined to get what he needed from her for this to continue. "Please, Pam. If you feel it, you have to say it out loud, or I won't believe it. I've been living for the fantasy of us being together, but I want this to be real; I need this to be real."

She was flushed from the sun and his kisses, and his words made her heart flutter with fear. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw no sign of rejection there, only hope. No expectation of anything from her except her love, given freely.

Well, thought Pam, I'm ready to give him that.

She felt the tears stinging her eyes, the emotion bubbling up from deep inside of her. She looked into his handsome face, his expression adoring, and her lips trembled over the words she'd told only one other man her entire life.

"I'm in love with you," she said quietly. "I think I have been for a long time, but I've been too afraid, too tied to the life I thought I wanted since I was a girl. But it's you I want now. Since the day we met, it's been like fate, and I tried so hard to resist it. But no more. I love you," she said, her voice stronger with the conviction of her words and the joy in his eyes. "I can't even begin to tell you how much."

His hands went reverently to her cheeks, and he smiled as brightly as she'd ever seen. "I love you too," he said simply, feeling his own tears at the wonder of knowing at last that his love was requited.

He captured her mouth, sealing the bargain. A few more blissful minutes passed as they kissed in the sun, the fineness of the spring day seeping into them, filling them with warmth from the inside out.

Jim's growling stomach broke the spell, and they both laughed at its insistence.

"Stay here," she said, giving him one more smacking kiss, before she ran back to the car in her pristine white Keds. He followed her with his eyes, shaking his head at the turn the day had taken, before closing his eyes and turning his face to the sun, basking in the perfection of this moment. She returned quickly, a familiar paper sack in one hand, a plastic grocery bag in the other, the old blanket he kept in his back seat during the winter months bundled under her arm.

"Here," she said, holding out the paper sack. "I took a moment to run to the office fridge and get our lunches." He hadn't even noticed them when she'd gotten into the car earlier. Ignoring the nearby picnic tables, she spread out the blanket on the grass, sharing the unspoken desire to soak up the sun's welcome rays.

He smiled at her forethought, then folded his long legs beneath him, settling by her on the blanket as she unpacked her grocery sack.

"I stopped by a convenience store on my way to work," she explained. "Isabel had nothing to eat in her apartment but an old frozen pizza and Chunky Monkey ice cream."

She took out a pre-packaged chicken salad sandwich, an orange, Sun Chips, and two familiar grape sodas from the office vending machine. This, he realized, was why she'd been ten minutes late earlier.

They traded halves of each of their sandwiches, and he shared his carrot sticks, she her Sun Chips and part of her orange, and both of them secretly thought it was the best meal they'd ever eaten. They spoke very little, given the sudden renewal of their appetites, sharing smiles and feeding each other orange sections and baby carrots. Every once in a while, he leaned over and kissed her between bites of sandwich or sips of soda.

When they were finished, he lay on his back on the blanket, knees bent, hands folded on his full belly, head turned to look at her as she lay down beside him.

"Thanks for thinking of lunch," he said. "It was honestly the last thing on my mind until my stomach spoke up." He hadn't felt up to eating breakfast that morning.

She smiled. "I hoped things might turn out this way, that you would be able to find it in your heart to forgive me."

"Always. I'm just glad I didn't ruin everything for good."

"We've both done things we regret, I guess. But I really want to put it all behind us, start over again. You think that's possible?"

"Definitely," he said, and he reached down to hold her hand, pressing their palms together on the blanket between them.

They closed their eyes, enjoying the sun, almost dozing before Pam spoke again.

"What would you think about another road trip?"

"Hm?" he replied lazily.

"Someplace warm, where I could put my feet in the sand. Where we could be alone, away from all this, to focus on each other…"

"That sounds nice."

"Really?" She opened her eyes and turned excitedly to look at him.

Feeling her gaze upon him, the shifting of the blanket, he opened one eye in amusement. "My family has a beach house in Florida; it's co-owned by my dad and his brothers. We used to go every summer when I was a kid. It'll take us a couple of days to drive there though."

Her face lit up. "That sounds perfect! You think we could? I've never been to Florida."

"Sure. I was going to go to Australia in June, but I guess I could change my plans."

The implications of this occurred to Pam, and she remembered, what seemed like a lifetime ago, how hurt she'd been that he wasn't going to be at her wedding. Sensing her abrupt change in mood, Jim sat up a little, his head blocking out the sun as he hovered over her. She looked up at him, her face filled with regret at what might have been.

"Hey, ancient history, remember?" he soothed. "I don't want to go halfway around the world anymore, at least not by myself. There's nothing I need to escape from. As a matter of fact, I just want to be wherever you are, whether it's in the beautiful metropolis of Scranton, in a Best Western in Nashua, or on the sandy white beaches of Florida."

She chuckled. "The beautiful metropolis…?"

"Don't mock me, Beesly, but from where I'm sitting, Scranton looks pretty damned beautiful today, don't you think?" But he wasn't looking at the signs of spring all around them, and coincidentally, neither was she.

She reached up to touch his warm cheek. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

He lowered his lips to hers, kissing her lazily, but with a building fever that he had to work very hard to contain, given the distant sounds of children playing. It took everything in him not to cover her body with his, to make love to her with all the longing that had built up over the long, horrendous weekend, not to mention the last three years.

"The house in Florida has a private beach," he whispered into her ear, and he was rewarded by her shiver of desire. "Rain check?"

"Yes, please," she said, before he sweetly kissed her once more.

They were very late getting back from lunch, but Jim gladly took the demerit Dwight so assiduously wrote up for him. As a matter of fact, he considered having it framed.

THE END

Epilogue

Roy was sentenced to three months in Lackawanna County Prison, plus a five-hundred dollar fine and mandatory enrollment upon release in some sort of alcohol counseling program. During his second week behind bars, he had a visitor. The guard told him on his way to the visitor's room that it was some guy named Darryl, so imagine his surprise when he saw Jim Halpert sitting at the metal picnic table.

His first reaction was anger, but that quickly gave way to fear. Was there something wrong with Pam? Of course, everyone at Dunder Mifflin knew that Pam had dumped him for the smartass salesman, and the guys at the warehouse were all too happy to give him the bad news. They were still pissed at him for being fired, leaving them short a driver and two strong arms to load the trucks. Some friends they turned out to be.

"Halpert," he fairly snarled, taking his place on the bench seat across from him. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Orange is a good color on you," remarked Jim. With all the guards around, he wasn't afraid to bait the bear a little.

"You're lucky my arm's still in a cast, or I'd beat your head in right now, asshole, jail or no jail."

Jim shrugged. "Yeah, I guess this does make me seem a little cowardly to you, but frankly, I don't give a shit. No, I'm actually here to warn you, Roy. See, I know what you did to Pam, and I'm not just talking about faking amnesia. She told me all about how you've cheated on her, not to mention all the times over the years I had to listen to her cry over some shitty thing you said or did to her. And hey, I stood by, being a good friend, gave her a shoulder to cry on—"

"Yeah, I'll bet it was more than a shoulder," he sneered suggestively. "You've been sniffing around my property for years, don't deny it."

"Oh, I'm not," Jim conceded. "But for the record, she never cheated on you, much as you deserved it. No, I waited patiently for you to screw up enough on your own that she would finally see the light and leave your sorry ass. But I'm not here to discuss the past; I'm here to give you a polite warning, about the future."

"Aw, so you're threatening me now. A real pussy move, surrounded by guards and metal bars. But go ahead, Halpert, let's hear it. I've been needing a good laugh in this joint."

From his suit coat pocket, Jim casually retrieved a familiar envelope, addressed to Pam in Roy's childish scrawl. It was unopened. He slid it across the table to the inmate without a word of explanation. Roy focused on it, and Jim ignored the brief flash of pain in the big man's eyes.

When Roy glanced up from the letter, Jim looked straight into his blue eyes, the salesman's face a mask of deadly determination.

"When you get out of here," Jim began, his voice low and threatening, "if you try to see her, or call her, or hell, send something by carrier pigeon, I will hunt you down and beat the living shit out of you, do you hear me?"

"Ha. You and what army?"

"Oh, it'll just be me. See, unlike you, I appreciate what I have, and I'll do anything to protect her. Face facts, man: you lost her, threw away the most perfect person on the planet because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants or hold your liquor. I made the mistake long ago of not fighting for her, of not saving her from a bastard like you. And news flash: she doesn't love you anymore; she loves me. And there's absolutely nothing you can do about it."

Jim wasn't surprised to see the anger boiling just below the surface of Roy's large frame. "When I get out of here, I won't be going back for that tramp, I'll be coming for you, asshole, so I'd watch my back if I were you."

Jim rose, hoping his anger and hatred outshone how much he was shaking inside. "Bring it on. Just stay the fuck away from Pam."

As he walked back toward the exit, he didn't see Roy grab the letter and stuff it morosely into his jumpsuit pocket. No, Jim was too busy being proud of himself for fighting for Pam at last, for fighting for their future.

A/N: Thanks for reading. I'd love to have your review.