A/N: I know I said this chapter we'd get Jim's pov, and that's coming, but first, one more scene from Pam. Thanks to everyone who's reading this!

Chapter 2

They talked and laughed and sang to corny eighties soft rock, and the first hour sailed by. But after a brief lull in the conversation, Pam looked over to find that Jim had indeed fallen asleep. His seat was tilted halfway back, which he'd done only a few minutes before when he'd stretched his long legs out in front him. Arms crossed over his seatbelted chest, his head was turned toward her, impossibly long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, tousled hair over his brow. His breathing was slow and deep, his full lips relaxed and gently parted. She realized she'd never seen him asleep before, and she had a hard timing keeping her eyes on the road.

He looked so young, and so damn perfect her heart squeezed with a feeling she was afraid to identify. She was tempted to pull over so she could touch him without awakening him, to see if his hair was as soft as it looked, to feel the hint of stubble on his masculine jaw, to trace the outline of his beautiful mouth.

God.

She had to clench her teeth together to stop herself from gasping aloud, to stop herself from unaccountably tearing up. Whatever this was she was feeling for Jim, it was…dangerous.

She made herself focus on the song on the radio, which didn't exactly help her keep her mind off the man sleeping peacefully beside her.

*I'm not in love.

So don't forget it.

It's just a silly phase I'm going through…

A half-hour later, the fuel light came on, and she pulled off the highway to the first gas station she saw. Disoriented, Jim blinked and sat up just as she parked by the gas pumps and turned off the engine.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty," she said with a teasing grin.

He flushed. "Sorry. Guess I was more tired than I thought."
"Well good thing I was driving, buddy. You might have fallen asleep at the wheel, as fast as you conked out."

He chuckled, looking around at where they were. "I'll fill her up if you'll run in and get me a Coke please. I should probably try to wake up."

"Deal," she said. "I have to use the bathroom anyway."

She came back just as he was hanging up the hose, a paper sack in hand.
"What's all that?" he asked suspiciously.

"Road snacks!"

"We just ate an hour and a half ago."

"Yeah, well we need some carbs and caffeine if we're gonna make it through the rest of the day."

He took over again in the driver's seat without a protest from her, and as they moved back onto the interstate, she began unpacking.

"Here's your Coke," she said, unscrewing the lid for him and setting it in a cup holder. She put her own bottle next to his, and reached into the bag for a package of chocolate snack cakes, and a bag of her favorite chips.

He took a grateful sip of Coke, and held out his hand: "Cupcake me, Beesly."

She unwrapped the small cake and she watched in awe as he stuffed the whole thing in his mouth.

"You're supposed to savor those."

He answered something unintelligible, mouth full of cake and cream filling. She laughed. "What, are you twelve, Halpert?"

He grinned, chocolate in his teeth. "Eating those cupcakes always makes me feel like I am."

She took a dainty bite of her own, secretly agreeing with him. "Such timeless perfection needs to be enjoyed, however" she said haughtily.

He rolled his eyes. "Cupcake me, Beesly," he repeated, and she unwrapped another for him, which he immediately crammed again in his mouth.

They continued on to Stamford, both of them reveling in the joy of being together, of being free, of having fun.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At the Stamford branch, Jim and Pam stepped out of the car with shared moans of discomfort, stretching after the long drive. They inhaled the sea air appreciatively. It was all surreal for Jim, who still couldn't believe he was here with Pam, truly alone with her for the longest time he'd ever been. The Universe had either decided to torture him or reward him—he wasn't quite sure which. He was trying to remember every moment, saving them up to take out and cherish after the trip, when he would only have these memories to get him through the dark times ahead after Pam was married, when any hope of having her would be lost. So far (except for the time when he'd inadvertently fallen asleep while she was driving) there would be plenty to savor, and he felt almost overwhelmed at the pleasure this time was bringing him. It almost hurt to enjoy it, knowing it wouldn't last forever, and he tried his best to push the sad thoughts about the future out of his mind and live in each wonderful moment.

At the same time, he would pretend.

They weren't really on a business trip; they were off on a long weekend, maybe to the beach, or to the mountains. Instead of snack cakes and Sun Chips, they had a picnic basket in the backseat, and they'd stop at some roadside park or scenic turnout like his family used to do on long trips when he was a kid. He was free at any time to reach across the console and hold her small hand in his, maybe bring it to his lips as he smiled lovingly at her—no need to hide his true feelings. They were going to spend the whole weekend exploring, both the scenery and each other. But suddenly, one of them would say something that reminded him of Roy, and like that damned anachronous penny in Somewhere in Time, those thoughts would hurtle him back into reality, and he'd remember bitterly that she wasn't his at all. Shaken, it would take him awhile to rebuild the fantasy again.

To all of this, he hoped, Pam was blessedly oblivious. His smile and laughter were real and heartfelt, but it was a delicate, tenuous thing, and the specter of Roy hung over them as if he were sitting in the backseat of his Camry.

Feeling a little more confident with one training session under his belt, Jim escorted Pam into the Stamford branch, Jim carrying the box of training materials. Stamford was Scranton's chief rival, sales-wise, and the two branches took turns beating each other in total annual sales numbers. It had been Scranton's turn this year, which was why they'd gotten to go to the Atlanta seminar and get this training. He wondered how receptive their sales force would be to his presentation.

They were met by Josh Porter, the manager of the branch. As Josh led them to their conference room, Jim immediately admired the slick, more businesslike feel of the place. There were no messy desks or stuffed animals or bobble heads cluttering up the place, and the desks were arranged so that each person had their own private space: no desk mates. So, no one would have to be pushed next to a Dwight. Jim could totally see himself in such a place, if his life weren't in Scranton. If Pam…He shook his head imperceptibly to clear it. Focus, Halpert, he told himself.

The Stamford sales team consisted of a guy named Andy, two others named Burch and Tony, and a woman, Karen. Jim noticed absently that Karen was very attractive, exotic looking even, with mischievous eyes that belied her otherwise professional demeanor. She was a little distant, but Jim took no offense at her almost skeptical attitude about the new sales method. She asked the most insightful questions, and he soon deduced she was likely their top salesperson. Andy Bernard, on the other hand, was almost as annoying as Michael, but also like Michael, he had a sunny disposition that made you begrudgingly like him. The other two men seemed solemn and slightly bored, but he didn't blame them; this wasn't the most exciting stuff, and he knew what it was like to feel stuck in a pointless meeting.

He happened to glance at Pam, sitting in a chair against the wall near the door, and their eyes held for a moment, as if they were thinking the same thing. Her lips turned up in a subtle, encouraging smile, and it was all he could do not to stop talking and stare. She always had that effect on him, and he struggled back home in Scranton not to constantly look at her—for commiseration, for comfort, for humor, for just the pleasure of it. And it wasn't just him; he'd caught her many times looking at him over the years, and it always made him wonder if she ever stared at her fiancé like that.

During a break, everyone got up to stretch their legs, to get coffee or a donut from the break room.

"Tough crowd," whispered Pam, as she stood by him at the large bay window overlooking Stamford Harbor and Long Island Sound.

"Yeah. They probably resent us though, kicking their asses this year. How about this view though? Wouldn't you like to look at this every day rather than a boring parking lot?"

She grinned. "It has its merits, I guess. But I don't know…everything here seems so…cold."

He nodded in agreement, turning to look down at the top of her head, enjoying her closeness, the sweet, familiar scent of her hair.

Karen came in then, sat back in her chair at the conference table, and took a sip from her Dunder Mifflin mug. Pam and Jim politely turned away from the window.

"Hey, hope you didn't think I was trying to knock your presentation, Jim. There really is some useful stuff in there."

Jim chuckled dryly. "Oh, thanks. No, I appreciate your questions, seriously. I know at least someone is paying attention."

She smiled, and it made her even prettier, and he didn't think it was his imagination that her eyes lingered on his face in feminine appreciation. She took another drink of her coffee to cover her regard, then turned to Pam.

"So, Pam, what do you do at the Scranton branch?"

Jim immediately saw Pam's cheeks turn pink. "Me? Oh, I uh, I'm just the—

"Pam practically runs the whole office at Scranton," Jim interrupted, when he recognized Pam was about to belittle her position. He had an inkling that Karen intimidated her, and he wanted Pam to know that there was absolutely no reason for her to feel that way. Karen might wear chic, expensive pantsuits, have a sleek, sophisticated haircut, but no woman could hold a candle to Pam, not in his eyes.

"She's the boss's right-hand, for sure," he continued sincerely. "None of us could live without her." Pam's eyes met his again, this time in gratitude, and her flush turned darker at the compliment.

Karen's eyebrows shot up, and she looked at Pam and Jim speculatively. By then, the rest of the sales team had gathered again with their refreshments, and Jim finished his presentation in even less time than he had back in Camden. Halfway through, Josh Porter had snuck in and taken a seat to listen to the rest of Jim's spiel. Afterwards, he came up to Jim and shook his hand and congratulating him on a very informative session.

"Hey, if you guys don't have any plans, I'd love to take you out for dinner tonight," Josh invited them both.

Since they were staying that night in Stamford, Jim looked askance at Pam, who nodded her ascent. Just another example of how they didn't always need words to communicate.

"We'd love to,"Jim said.

"Great. Let me finish up a few things, and we'll head out for an early dinner. You like steak?"

"Absolutely," Jim and Pam replied at once, then laughed in mild embarrassment at their jinx.

"Wow, you two must have worked together a long time."

They only smiled.

Josh also invited the rest of his sales team, but Tony and Burch had begged off, leaving Andy and Karen to join them. They followed the Stamford bunch to a swanky steak and seafood place on the harbor. Pam looked nervously down at her usual cardigan, button up blouse and skirt.

"I hope I'm not underdressed," she said.

"You always look good," Jim told her sincerely, looking over at her in the passenger's seat.

"Thanks. You, too," she replied shyly, and they both blushed.

Jim tightened his tie and they walked with the Stamfordites to the front door of the restaurant, where they were escorted in immediately. Jim figured Josh must be a regular, and likely a good tipper, if the hostess's deferential treatment was any indication. They were seated at a table overlooking the water, and they all ordered drinks. At first, their small talk centered around business and the day's training, but when their food arrived, Josh eyed Jim with keen interest.

"So, tell me, Jim, do you like working at Scranton?"

It was in that moment that Jim realized why they were really here: Josh was trying to woo him over to Stamford. His answering smile was dryly amused.

"I love it," he lied convincingly.

Josh was immediately skeptical. "Really? Michael Scott is that great a manager?"

"Yep," he said, sipping his scotch and soda.

"Hmmm. You know, I've been to Scranton a time or two. Lovely little town. But you gotta admit, Stamford's got a lot going for it, don't you think?" Josh nodded meaningfully toward the harbor, where the moored ships were bathed in the pink and orange light of the setting sun reflecting on the water.

"Definitely."

He felt Pam's eyes on him, but he didn't dare look at her. Her tension was palpable, and his heart skipped a beat. She doesn't want me to leave.

"So, what would it take to get you to come and work for me in our little corner of paradise?"

Jim's eyes widened, and his eyes immediately flew to Pam, then quickly back at Josh. "Wow. Not a believer in the soft sell, eh?"

Josh chuckled. "Nope. Hey, look, you're only in Stamford for one night, and I figured this was my only chance to put this out to you. You're one of the top salesmen in Scranton, and I just have a good feeling about you. I like your attitude, your humor. I thought your training presentation was great. I can see you'd really fit in nicely, and I think you have a lot of room for advancement here. What do ya say?"

Pam, who had been mostly silent since they entered the restaurant, suddenly slid back her chair and quietly excused herself. He only caught a brief glimpse of her face, but she seemed really upset.

"Uhh…" he began awkwardly, looking back at Josh.

Josh's cell phone rang, and he took it out of his pocket, and glanced at the screen. "Excuse me, Jim. Hold that thought. I gotta take this—it's Corporate."

He walked away with his phone before Jim could answer, and he was left with the other silent diners, Karen and Andy.

"Well, that was weird," said Andy, cutting another bite of steak. Jim realized how the other two salespeople at the table must feel right now. Another salesman meant more competition. They really must be resenting him right now.

"Yeah, sorry," said Jim. "I had no idea that's what this dinner was about, believe me. I'm happy at Scranton." Another lie, or pretty close to one. He absolutely hated selling paper, but he was happy being near Pam, though the closer it came to her wedding, the more painful it was becoming to work there.

Karen changed the subject, or so she thought. "So, I see you and Pam seem pretty close. And I noticed her ring. Are you two-?"

Jesus, these people have no sense of subtlety at all.

"We're uh, just good friends," he said numbly. "She's engaged to someone else."

"Oh," said Karen neutrally, taking a drink of her wine.

"So there must be a girl back in Scranton then," added Andy. "I mean, what else would keep you tied to the back of beyond?"

What indeed? Jim asked himself, though his eyes were drawn to the direction Pam had fled. He downed the rest of his scotch and tried to push down the sudden panic he was feeling because he'd dared ask himself, Why the hell not?

Once Pam was totally off the market, how did he expect to work there, when all his hope was gone and all he had left was a dead-end job selling the most boring product on the freakin' planet?

"No, no girls," he replied absently to Andy.

"Well, I can tell you that if you moved to Stamford, you'd practically be swimming in them. I could show you all the best clubs, just a hop, skip and jump to N-Y-C."

Karen rolled her eyes at her co-worker. "Seriously? Is that all you think about?"

"What else is there?" said Andy.

But Jim had tuned them out, and the longer Pam was gone, the more distracted he became. This job offer had come out of nowhere, and it certainly seemed to have come at an opportune time. He'd be stupid not to at least consider it, because like Andy had so tactlessly pointed out, what was keeping him in the back of beyond?

Josh and Pam returned to the table at nearly the same time, and Pam's seemed to have recovered, though he noticed a faint blotchiness in her cheeks, and she wouldn't meet his eyes. She picked at her grilled fish a few minutes before giving up and setting down her fork, her hands going to her lap.

"Sorry," Josh was apologizing. "Hey, you don't have to give me an answer right now, Jim. Take your time; think it through. If you decide to come to Stamford, I'll talk to Jan and help facilitate your transfer."

"Okay. Thanks, Josh. I'll uh, get back to you."

Josh raised a hand for the waitress, and ordered another round of drinks. With a grin, he turned the conversation to other things. "So, Jim, you a Knicks fan…?"

From there, the topics ranged from sports to the Stamford branch's obsession with Call of Duty, the merits of a well-cooked steak, and other small talk that Jim wouldn't be able to recall the next day. His head was spinning and by the end of dinner all he wanted to do was be alone with Pam so he could talk about everything. At the same time, he was scared to death to hear what she had to say, because he had no idea what she'd advise him to do.

Outside the restaurant, they shook hands all around, and Josh expressed again how happy he'd be to have Jim there, while Karen gave Jim's hand an extra squeeze, looking up into his eyes with a smoky invitation likely spurred on by one too many glasses of red wine.

"Regardless of your decision," Karen said, "I hope to see you again soon, Jim."

"Yeah. Nice meeting you, Karen."

Back in his Camry, the atmosphere was tense and quiet.

"What's the address of our hotel?" he asked her.

Pam reached for a file folder near her feet and rattled off the number and street while Jim punched it into his GPS. When the female voice directed him, he turned onto the correct street, while Pam's female voice remained uncomfortably mute.

"So, that was crazy, huh?" he ventured, in an attempt to fill the silence. To his surprise, that's all it took to crack open her shell.

"Are you considering taking the job?" she asked tightly.

At first, he tried answering with a joke. "I don't know. I wouldn't want you to blow your brains out or anything."

"What?"

"Sorry." He let out a shaky sigh. "Look, that offer came out of nowhere, Pam, and I'm kinda in shock, to tell you the truth. I guess I'd be dumb not to at least think about it. What do you think?" Both hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, as he awaited her answer, while he followed the GPS directions without really paying attention.

"I…I can't make that decision for you. I mean, obviously, you'd be great, no matter where you are, and Stamford seems like a much more exciting, more beautiful place, so I wouldn't blame you. They'd be lucky to have you."

The only thing that kept his heart from falling into his stomach was the unspoken but in her voice. He decided to take a chance and say it for her.

"But…?"

"But…I for one would miss you." He didn't miss the subtle tremble in her voice, and though he couldn't see her face clearly in the darkness of the car, he suspected she was crying a little.

Your destination is on the right. Jim looked up, surprised to see their mid-price chain hotel looming before them. He found a space near the front door and parked, then turned toward her, sudden frustration turning his tone shockingly bitter.

"Because we're friends, right?"

"Well, yes," she said, surprised at his attitude.

He inhaled sharply, his hands raking almost violently through his hair. Without another word, he unhooked his seatbelt and got out of the car. Pam remained seated, listening to him open the trunk and grab a small duffle and a garment bag, which he threw over his shoulder before walking toward the hotel lobby, assuming she would follow.

Jim checked them in at the front desk, presenting the company credit card. After signing, he handed Pam the key card for her room and quietly, they walked to the elevator, Pam pulling her rolling bag behind her.

Jim was angrier than he'd been in a long time, and he had nowhere to direct it, no way to express it without blowing a gasket in front of her. How had this wonderful trip taken such a sudden, terrible turn? It was like the Booze Cruise all over again, when Roy had announced that he and Pam had set a wedding date. He had this overwhelming urge to destroy something, to use every swear word he knew, to grab her and try to kiss some sense into her. The desire to do this was so great, he forced himself to move as far away from her as possible in the small elevator, not trusting himself to smell her or even accidentally brush against her as they were whisked up to the fourth floor. When the door slid open, he jumped out ahead of her, walking quickly down the hall while she trotted after him.

"Jim! Wait up, for cryin' out loud!"

He didn't stop until he found his room number and turned stiffly back to her, his face set in an angry mask, his breathing too fast and too loud for such a short jaunt.

"What the hell are you so mad about?" she demanded, the rare, fiery side of Pam reacting in kind to his anger.

"Nothing," he bit off in annoyance. "I just want to get to my room and go to bed. It's been a long fuckin' day."

She surveyed his stiff, towering stance a moment, unused to and maybe even a little afraid of this side of him, of his uncharacteristically harsh language, and she took a step back. That hint of fear is what finally got to Jim, and his face softened in remorse. He sighed, closing his eyes a moment to try to recapture his control.

"I'm sorry. I'm just tired, okay? And that dinner was, well, a lot. I'll see you in the morning for breakfast, say 7:30? They have a free waffle bar…" His lips quirked a little in a fleeting attempt at a smile, but she didn't return it.

"Okay…good night."

"Night."

He saw her look down at her key card, the gentleman in him waiting to see her safely in her room. Of course, he noted unhappily, her room was right next to his. This was going to be fun, he thought sarcastically, imagining her with only a thin wall between them: undressing, bathing, sleeping. Jesus.

When she'd shut the door behind her, and he heard the metallic sound of her turning the lock inside, the anger drained out of him, leaving him bereft and unbelievably sad. With another sigh, he let himself into his own room.

A/N: Things start to heat up between them in the next chapter. Thanks for coming along for the ride! And I'd love to hear what you think so far!

*Song lyrics from "I'm Not in Love" by 10cc, circa 1975