Note – So I made a huge, glaring error last time. I had Jim and Pam coming into the break room. Since Ryan is still an administrative assistant, obviously, Pam is still in New York. Can we pretend that I said Phyllis and Stanley almost entered the room? K thx bai. :-P What a great way to start off a story, yeah? Jeez.

2. Tell if someone is lying.

[I mean, I'm not a slut, but who knows?]

A week had passed since Kelly had dumped Darryl, and she hadn't spoken to Ryan since. Frankly, he couldn't take it anymore: he actually wanted to sit around and listen to her prattle on about how Paris Hilton and Stavros Niarchos might be getting back together because he was totally whispering to her in those pictures and tucking her hair behind her ear and that's what people do when they still have feelings for each other, duh, Ryan, and ohmigosh, he is soooo cute and so rich and what girl wouldn't want that over a tattooed gnome like Benji Madden? What kind of name is that anyway? Even though his brother Joel is so hot and such a good father, you can tell because he and Nicole hardly seem to go anywhere without Harlowe and that's totally how we'll be when we have kids of our own and – Ryan, where are you going?

Yeah. He missed that.

There was definitely something fundamentally wrong with him.

When he was in prison, he used to lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling and hearing her voice. They got newspapers fairly regularly and out of habit, he always read the society pages after he finished with the business section. That got him mocked mercilessly by the other guys, but his cellmate seemed to sense that there was something else behind that curious habit of his and used to take care to grab the paper for him if he couldn't get it himself.

Sometimes he'd hear her voice, and sometimes he'd make up conversations in his head with her. They were conversations that they had ("Usher Jennifer Hudson Kapoor,"), conversations they pointedly did not have ("So, Ryan, do you see us with six kids or just three?"), and conversations they could have had (those were private, locked away in his mind). And Kelly always said 'totally' and 'ohmigod' a lot and it made him feel closer to home.

And now that he was back at Dunder Mifflin, he had expected to slip seamlessly back into that rhythm. He'd done his best: he had apologized for the way he acted, he tried to get back in her good graces, and he'd done his best to ignore the fact that at the end of the day, she went home with Darryl.

God, how he loathed that guy. Darryl Philbin represented every single insecurity Ryan ever had about himself. For one thing, he was tall. For another, kind of stating the obvious, he was black. (God, he shouldn't have laughed at Kelly when she told him she was dating "a lot of guys – mostly black guys.") He was calm, self-assured, unhurried, smooth, and had nothing to prove to anyone. And he was naturally talented at basketball and understood all the rules instead of just pretending to. He had a steady job that he'd worked for the past ten years, he had a kid, he was well grounded, and he was perfectly stable.

Plus, he had Kelly, which just meant that Ryan couldn't have hated him any more if he tried.

And that, really, was why he didn't even feel badly about it when he seduced her away from the warehouse foreman.

Granted, the first time had been kind of a fluke. He was at Poor Richard's, sitting in his favorite booth way in the back, drinking and trying to forget about his crappy week. A couple other people from the office were there – Andy and Oscar, being surprisingly chummy, Phyllis and Bob, being completely married, Jim and Pam, being disgustingly engaged and happy on the rare weekend that Pam got to come home – but he didn't feel like joining any of them. He barely liked those people. There had been a time when he and Jim had been pretty good friends, and he and Pam had been known to strike up a few conversations that didn't have to do with paper or Michael's idiocy, but that was a thing of the past.

So he sat in the back, ignored and forgotten and completely okay with that, downing a beer and that was how she found him. Kelly knew his favorite place in the pub and had spotted him instantly. She had been planning on grabbing a drink with Pam and Jim but said she felt bad seeing him sit by himself, and Ryan didn't graciously tell her to forget him and go back to her friends.

What he did do, however, was order her a 7&7.

With eight maraschino cherries.

Sugar on the rim.

Blended if you can.

And he could not have been more surprised when she laughed that off and said she just wanted a beer instead, so that was what he got her. He got her one, and then another, and then another, and they sat together in the booth for so long that he lost all track of time. All he remembered was that he was in somewhat of a bad mood but she was making it better, and he was making some not-so-funny jokes but she was still smirking at him anyway, even though she knew those jokes weren't funny, she just knew it, he was sure of it, and the next thing he knew he was putting money on the table and they were leaving together.

Somehow, they wound up back at his place. It was closer to Poor Richard's, anyway. He had his hand on her thigh all the way home, and then they were kissing all the way up the walk, and then he had her pressed up against his door so that when he finally got it unlocked, they practically fell on top of each other into the foyer. They lost their clothes somewhere along the narrow hallway leading to his single bedroom, right across from the single bath, and everything was hot and soft and fast and incredible, and then slow and gentle and still.

The next morning had been incredibly awkward, but he got her to stay long enough for them to have coffee together, and then he drove her back to her place and fought the uneasiness that settled low in the pit of his stomach when she didn't look at him as she climbed out, when she didn't wave before disappearing behind her door, when she didn't call or text him over the weekend, and when she barely said two words to him on the following Monday.

But they'd managed to get over the awkwardness and she very kindly explained to him that she was with Darryl and she didn't plan on breaking up with him, and that what happened between them was a mistake that she wanted to forget and just move past, and that she hoped he agreed. And because, really, he had no other viable option, Ryan readily did so.

The next time they slept together, it was because he actively seduced her. And he had to admit, it was incredible. He was so used to being chased around by her that he never realized how much fun it was to chase her. He flirted with her relentlessly, feeling a little thrill every time she blushed or shot him one of her cute, bewildered smiles when she couldn't believe he just said that. He made her coffee in the morning at work and dropped by her cubicle occasionally to talk to her about the most random, inane things he could think of, and Ryan loved that she was completely thrown off by it.

He was so wrapped up in the little game he was playing with her – and with himself – that Ryan didn't even realize how deep into it he was until he entered the annex and heard Phyllis and Meredith talking in the break room about how the two of them were just like Jim and Pam from a few years ago, with their secret smiles and inside jokes and oblivious flirting.

And amazingly enough, that remark didn't terrify him.

It only let him know that his plan was working.

Just like Pam used to set out jellybeans and hard candies for Jim, Ryan started setting out magazines. Vogue, People, Cosmopolitan, anything with a pretty girl in a prettier dress on the front was sure to bring Kelly around. And sure enough, she started taking her breaks up there at reception, grabbing one of the magazines and taking it to the couch, where they talked and laughed and flirted while Jim made a never-ending series of weird faces at the camera.

And then, just like that, he'd kissed her in the parking lot.

It was after everyone else had gone home and it was just the two of them. He was walking her to her car because she'd offered to give him a lift home since his car was in the shop and he'd had a buddy drop him off in the morning, and she was talking about Madonna and Guy Ritchie's divorce and her affair with A-Rod, and he just kissed her. Backed her up against the passenger door and kissed her.

And in his head, he heard her voice: Ryan, what took you so long?

She didn't ask him that question when they finally pulled apart, and instead looked up at him wide, starry eyes. Ryan rested his forehead against hers, playing with a lock of her silky hair, and heard himself ask her in a voice that was surprisingly husky to come home with him.

In the end, they'd gone to her place. The familiar scent of cinnamon and fennel hit him as soon as the door opened, and he couldn't explain the relief he felt when he saw that everything looked the same. Her apartment was just as pretty, just as comforting, just as Kelly as it ever was.

This time, it was she who took his hand and pulled him to her, and Ryan kissed her with everything he had just in case she changed her mind and asked him to leave. She'd never kicked him out of her place before and he wouldn't let her think to do so now. He spent the whole night at her place, wrapped up in her arms and her pale pink bed sheets, and he'd beaten his own personal record when they hit the four-times mark.

She wasn't in bed with him when he woke up. And Ryan told himself that he shouldn't have been surprised by that. Kelly barely offered him coffee after he came out of the room, dressed once again in his wrinkled clothes from the night before. She barely looked at him, barely spoke to him, and before long he found himself locked outside her apartment, trudging wearily to his car, wondering if this emptiness and futility was what she felt every time he rushed her out of his apartment in the morning.

The next day he'd confronted her when she came into the break room, but she'd snapped at him and walked out, leaving him conflicted. He was glad that she was breaking up with Darryl, but he knew he was hardly on her good side.

And now it had been a whole week and they still weren't talking. He knew she blamed him for what had happened, but he also knew that she did that just because it was easier for her to do that than blame herself. He was a much easier target, and Ryan had to admit that the blame was probably long overdue.

Still, there was a limit. He could let her stew for a reasonable period of time, but this wasn't getting them anywhere. She was becoming more and more withdrawn and sullen, and he was just plain frustrated. It was the exact opposite of before, when they used to laugh and flirt like crazy, when it felt like they were even closer than they had been when they were actually dating, if it was at all possible.

She was at her desk, going through her files. He saw stacks and stacks of old customer surveys and knew she was separating them all out. Every so often, Kelly pulled the older reviews from her cabinets and organized them and tagged them, and then put them in the larger file cabinets in the storage room, which was basically an office a bit larger than Michael's that held backup files and computers and whatever they hardly used anymore. He'd promised her last week that he'd help move all that stuff in there when she was ready.

"Hey."

Kelly glanced up at him as he rested his arm on the cubicle wall and nodded before returning to her files.

Ryan drummed his fingers on the wall. "We have to talk."

She didn't look up at him again. "About what?"

"You know about what." He waited, but it didn't elicit any sort of reaction. "Kelly."

She hissed and smacked the folder down on top of the largest stack in front of her. "What?"

Ryan shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to figure out the best way to proceed. He had no idea what that was, unfortunately, so he settled for the most blunt explanation possible.

"Let's get back together."

Kelly stared at him, her expression inscrutable. "…Why?"

He didn't like the edge of suspicion and distrust in her voice. "Because."

She rolled her eyes and returned to her work. "That's not an answer."

"Because…because you're not with Darryl anymore. And I'm not with anyone either."

He wondered if, on some level, she knew that was the best he could do right now. Kelly had her back toward him and he could see her stiffen, could practically see her processing his words and trying to figure out whether to give in or tell him to screw off.

"Kel."

Her head turned just a fraction of an inch.

"We've…always been together," he shrugged. "Practically the whole time we worked here together."

She was silent for a long moment and Ryan couldn't figure out whether she planned to actually answer him or not. And just when he was starting to think that he was making a hopeless ass of himself, she turned around and leveled him with a hard look.

"I don't want to be in a relationship with you."

The words were said crisply, plainly, without a hint of malice, but he still winced. It was such a matter-of-fact statement, so simple, so clear, and it was definitely something that she should have told him the first time they were together. Their relationship wasn't fair to her, and it wasn't what either of them had wanted. He just wanted someone to fool around with, and she just wanted someone to marry and have children with. They could not have been a more mismatched couple if they had tried.

He nodded jerkily, trying to process how neatly he'd been dismissed, but Kelly wasn't done. She folded her arms across her chest, cleared her throat, and then unfolded her arms and refolded them again the opposite way. This piqued his interest, because it was one of her specific tells, one of the best ways to tell when she was lying.

"If we get back together, we're not going to do that…" she waved her hand in the air, "…relationship thing again."

His eyes narrowed and Ryan moved closer, keen to figure out just what was going on in her head. "Okay…"

Kelly fidgeted under his penetrating gaze and reached for one of the smaller stacks of files, picking it up and stacking it on top of another one, almost as if she was building a little wall between them.

"If we get back together, we'll just be…hanging out." She added another stack to the growing pile, and the files reached her chest. This amused him. "Nothing serious. Nothing long-term. Just…"

"Hanging out," he finished smugly, successfully hiding a smile when she added yet another few folders to the growing stack. Kelly was definitely lying, but he knew that she needed to believe what she was saying, at least for now.

Because the Kelly Kapoor he knew, the Kelly Kapoor he was certain still existed, was absolutely incapable of a no-strings attached relationship. She just didn't have it in her. And that was why he knew she was lying, that she still had feelings for him, that they still had something they could build on.

"Exactly," she nodded. "Just hanging out."

Ryan smiled and moved closer, hearing her breath catch in her throat as he did so. He kept his gaze locked with hers, blue eyes sparkling, and nodded back. "Sounds good."

Kelly swallowed, her eyes nervously darting to the files between them as he drew nearer, so close that she could smell his aftershave, so close that she almost thought he was going to lean in and kiss her. Ryan smirked and reached down to pick up the files she had been stacking on her desk.

"Let me just get these out of your way."

He heard her let out a whooshing breath when he pulled away, carrying the massive stack to the back office, and Ryan Howard had never been more proud of himself. And then, when he was finally out of her sight, he let out a hiss and adjusted his grip – because, damn, those files were heavy. Those pushups hadn't helped as much as he'd hoped.