Ok...I got like a few hours to write and get on the internet, so I decided to update. I hope you enjoy this chapter, even though it's pretty angsty. I get home late tomorrow, so I'll get to really continue then. Enjoy, loyal readers! Don't get you're hopes high, though.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Office, NBC, or the song Mrs. Robinson. Yay me.

"Anything I need to know about, Halpert?" Karen flickered her brown eyes towards Jim, who was concentrating on the road in front of him. He was nervous about arriving at his house, mostly because he knew that his mom was throwing him a "Welcome Back" party.

"Kevin will most likely check you out. Michael will say something inappropriate, Angela will tell us how wrong our relationship is, you know, I think you'll get used to it."

"Oh really? Pretty cool people you used to hang with, huh Halpert?" She laughed, giving her hair a nervous flip. Jim could always tell when Karen was being insecure, no matter how confident she looked on the surface. He could just...tell.

"Yeah. All of them are highly opinionated. I'm just used to it, you know? 'Cause I grew up with them." He was thinking, about using his slingshot on Dwight and listening to the classic music in Wallace's yard. He could even remember the song that was playing when he first went there, being shoved towards the yard that smelled like dogs by an annoying kid in a three-piece suit. Simon and Garfunkel.

God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson...

"Any old flames I should know about? Were you quite the ladies man or..." She trailed off when the color left Jim's face.

He couldn't do this, not now. He couldn't think of her. Not the hair or the eyes or the skin or...

"I can't."

He needed to let this go. The past week had been killing him, the second his mom said she would throw a party upon his arrival, he couldn't sleep. concentrate, eat, watch TV. Nothing. He couldn't. Because she would be there.

Karen was sure she knew what was up. Jim hadn't froze like that since she had said something about curly red hair. All she was commenting on was a girl she saw on the street, but Jim had let his face go pale before yanking his head around, in search for the girl. It wasn't natural, she knew it.

"Are you listening, Jim?" She was tapping his fingers lightly, right before he gripped the steering wheel harder.

Jim had felt a jolt when she said that. Where had he heard those words?

"Are you listening, Jim? I'm sorry, but you didn't have to let this happen, you know."

Her words, so full of fury and sadness. Graduation night, that was when he heard those words.

"Halpert, you need to watch the road. That trucker is flipping you off." Karen was smiling, not giggling. She didn't giggle like Pam did.

"Sorry. Just zoned out a little." He blinked a few times, hoping she didn't ask that question again.

"You never answered my question. Are there any former flames I should know about?" Her eyes were playful, but underneath she knew that Jim had left something, or someone behind in Scranton. Crap, now he had to answer.

"Not really. Just...Pam. I told her I had feelings for her on graduation and she turned me down. I left the next morning. That was that." He was watching the power lines, the yellow dashes in the middle of the road. Anything but Karen's gaze.

"Oh. Oh. You don't still have fee-"

"No. I don't. Just you." He took his eyes off the road for a second, giving her a kiss on the lips before returning his eyes to the "Scranton Welcomes You" sign. They were here.

XXXX

Pam stood inside her house, taking deep breaths, inhaling, exhaling, over and over. He was coming today.

She had to clear the thoughts in her head, stop imagining what she hoped would happen. That he would come alone, telling her he missed her and this time she would be able to kiss him, full on the lips because she knew she felt the same way. Ha. She could hope and wish and pray, but nobody was getting rid of Karen. Too bad Pam didn't know about her. Yet.

All she knew was that her shorts, a little smaller than usual, really did look good, even though she hated her legs. And the form-fitting tank-top looked good too, accentuating her narrow shoulders and making her appear delicate. Her hair was soft and silky, in it's gentle waves, her lips glazed over with a light pink gloss. She had only spent the past three hours making sure everything was perfect. Perfect for him.

When she opened her door, she let out a little squeak when she saw who was waiting for her, a dopey grin on his face.

"Roy? What are you doing here?" She was annoyed, why would he even come here? She had told him that it was over too many times.

"Hey, Pammy. I just had to do this." He looked a little nervous, but Pam could hardly contain her surprise when he stepped up on her stoop and pushed his lips against hers, slipping his tongue in, just like the old days.

In books and stories and movies, they say that when you kiss someone you love, the whole world is blocked out. You're supposed to feel like you and your partner are the only two people on earth, sharing this beautiful moment of intimacy. Like nothing else matters.

But Pam was all too aware of everything. The squeals from Jim's house, most likely Kelly, a yell, sounding like Michael. The radio, on full-blast. She could even hear his mother, yelling at his younger brother to "Stay out of the cupcakes!"

The Spice Girls song coming on was just too irritating, and the kiss wasn't blocking out her unpleasantness. If anything, it was bring back some bad experiences.

She pulled back, biting her lower lip. Why did Roy come to do this? She didn't want him, that was for sure.

"Pammy? Can we make this work? Please?" He was holding her small hand, taking his other up to pinch her side, ready to tickle her until she laughed and giggled and it was OK again. Instead, she did something she had never done before.

Pam brought both her hands up and grabbed his, pulling them off her and settling them at his sides.

"No, Roy. It's over." Her voice was surprisingly firm, even though she had never raised her voice at him, never. But now was time for change.

Roy was staring at the cement now, his lower lip twitching. He didn't know what to say, that was for sure. He just knew that Pam was serious.

"Okay."

Pam was nervous, the party was in full swing and Jim was going to be here in about ten minutes, give or take a few. The scene around here was so unforgettable yet totally typical, she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Pam wanted to laugh, because, well, nothing had changed. Nothing. Dwight was walking around, checking to make sure the picnic tables were sturdy enough. Angela was muttering prayers under her breath, while Michael made a face (probably him trying to hold in a laugh) and quickly blurted, "That's what she said!"

Kelly was hanging on Ryan's arm, while he searched helplessly for someone to talk to, Meredith was taking large swigs out of her can of coke, but everyone knew it wasn't Coke she was holding. Kevin was checking Pam's mom out while Oscar scolded him, while Creed slipped a few cupcakes down his sleeves. Everyone had to bring something to pass, so the table was filled with an interesting assortment of food.

Beet salad, cookies, pretzels, m&ms...

No, nothing had changed. And that made her miss her old memories, before everything was like this. Like they had to run off and go to school and become adults and get married and have kids and be responsible for themselves and not screw up. Because Pam didn't know how she would do it without her usual assortment of distinctive personalities. This was what she grew up with, who she had played with, danced with in Wallace's yard, decorated posters in sixth grade with and researched World War II with. These people were weird and sometimes rude and sometimes inappropriate and always head-racking but consistently her friends. They were her childhood.

With the exception of the new kid, Andy. His father had moved here, but Andy was making it clear that he intended to go to Cornell, where he had gotten accepted. He had a habit of singing too often and Dwight hated him. it was obvious that he had only gotten into Cornell because his father had donated a building. His falsetto was constantly being heard throughout the neighborhood. Jim would get a kick out of him.

And then the song came on, the one that was playing when she bumped into him, while walking to the other side of the tree.

Mrs. Robinson, by Simon and Garfunkel. A true classic.

Heaven holds a place for those who pray...

When she turns and sees him, it's like a dream. He smiles the same and laughs at what his dad says, while his green eyes reflect the light and she can see, really see, that they soak the light like emeralds. Those eyes, those eyes.

She wants to run up and hug him when he sees her, so she does. When she smells the familiar smell that reminds her home, the Jim smell, she inhales deeply and lets it linger for a long time. Their arms are wrapped around each other, and she holds on tight, so he can't go. He breathes into her hair, letting a wave settle in the breeze. For a moment, nothing else exists. It's just them.

Hey, hey, hey... God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson...

And he motions to a dark-haired girl, with a sweet smile and a confident look in her eye, saying "Pam, this is Karen. Me and her are kinda...dating." Pam wants to throw up.


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