"Are you going to take your present with you?" Pam asked Jim while she was getting her sweater out of the back seat of Jim's car.
"I'll leave it in there for now. I don't want to forget it at your place – stuff never makes it home when I do that."
"Then, I'll leave my teapot under the seat with it. I'll keep it at your house, since you don't have one," she told him, shutting the door.
"Teaparty at Jim's house!" he exclaimed with a comical gasp. She swatted him on his butt before she grabbed his hand and went with him towards her apartment. There weren't many parking spaces within the complex, and Pam didn't have the disposable cash to 'rent' herself a designated parking space. Luckily, there was plenty of street parking a few minute's walk away, and the neighborhood didn't leave her worried about having her car broken into.
"You want to watch a movie or something, or just cuddle up with some low music and a bit of candlelight?" Jim asked, giving her a lusty glance.
"Definitely cuddle time," she answered.
A speeding car raced by, squealing its tires around the corner behind them.
"Freaking drunks," Jim muttered to himself, "I'm glad we're getting off the road. Friday nights have gotten awful around here."
"I know, it's every weekend now," Pam replied. "So, have you thought about how soon you want to set a date?"
"Well…" he began, musing a bit, "Yeah, I thought I'd let you decide on that. I'm good whenever you are."
"Really? You actually meant that? Because this is your one chance before I take this thing by the wheel and ride with it," she said, somewhat jokingly.
"Really, Beesly, none of this let's get engaged and then not ever get married crap. You want to get married tomorrow, we'll drive out to Atlantic City and get married by Elvis or Robert Goulet or whoever you want. I'm not afraid of this. I've been thinking about this day since the moment I took you on that first date," he told her, his voice serious and determined.
"Wow… well, I've always dreamed of a winter wedding, really," she started, beginning to let her mind dream about what she really wanted. "All the snow, a fur-lined coat, riding away in a sleigh."
"Just don't make me dress up like Santa Claus," Jim added, squeezing her close to him.
"PAM! PAM, I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU ALL NIGHT!"
Jim and Pam turned to where the slurred shout had come from, and running from around the street corner came Roy. He stopped, leaning over and panting, his face and chest soaked in sweat. He began, staggeringly, to run towards them again.
"Roy!? What are you doing here?" Pam asked, exasperated.
Roy neared the two of them, and finally noticed that Pam was out with Jim, and his face dropped with anger. "Halpert… you get away from her. She's mine," Roy growled, stopping where he was, some fifty feet away. He was snorting and twitching, and still breathing heavily not only from the run, but in a way that suggested he had been indulging in drugs.
Jim was about to say something, feeling angry and defensive towards the other man, but Pam held her hand up to his chest. "I'll talk to him Jim, just try not to let him get you mad – that's what he wants," she whispered to him.
"Roy, what do you want?" she asked him, gently but firmly.
Roy looked confused for a moment, and rubbed at his scruffy-bearded face with his hand. "Pam, you and me, we need to be together. I'm a mess without you. Come back, let's pretend none of this ever happened," he shouted at her, his words drawing together at times.
"Roy… I can't. I can't for so many reasons," she began to explain to him again, patiently, but not getting any nearer to him. "Roy, you need to get help. I still care about you as a friend, Roy, please… I know you're on drugs, and it makes me sad to see you hurting yourself. I never wanted you to hurt like this."
He stared back at her for a while, trying to process everything that she was saying, his mind clouded and uneven. Pam cringed at his appearance: dirty, ripped clothes, unshaved, unbathed it looked like for days, and thin. Roy had always been a large man, and she had never seen him so gaunt, he must have weighed less than Jim now.
"Pam… just come back, I'll change, I'll be the old Roy, just like when we were happy… this is all just, you know, I can't get a job, I can't think… the stuff, it's just to keep me happy and if I had you again I know I'd be happy again," he blurted out all at once.
Jim watched the exchanged with worry; he didn't trust Roy, and never had, but especially now that the man was on who knows what, and likely drunk as well. He inched closer to Pam, afraid to let her out of arm's reach.
"No, Roy, how many times do I have to tell you, we're all done like that. It's over. O-v-e-r. It's too late for us, Roy, but that doesn't mean that you can't keep going. You're capable, you were a hard worker! Don't let all of this ruin you Roy. Please," she pleaded with him, "I'm sure you'll be able to make someone very happy, Roy, just learn from the things I've told you, from why I ended it. It won't take much, Roy, but you just have to be strong."
At that, the disheveled man began to bawl, and dropped to his knees. "Pam…" he sobbed, covering his face with his hands. Pam sighed a little in relief, and looked over her shoulder at Jim. He walked to join her, and the both of them slowly approached Roy, who seemed to have melted into a sobbing heap.
"Roy… I'm gonna call your brother, ok? He'll come and take you home, help you get clean," Pam cooed to her ex, and approached him to put her hand on his shoulder.
"I'm nothing… I'm done for Pam… I can't go on without you," he cried, gripping his hair on the sides of his head, tortured.
"You can make it, Roy," she began, when he suddenly looked up and snorted, his eyes wide and maddened. He scrambled back away from them, tears still streaming down his dirt-stained face, and produced a small pistol from the back of his pants. Pam gasped and backed up into Jim.
"I'm DONE!" Roy proclaimed dramatically, turning the pistol to his head.
"No, Roy, don't!" Pam screamed, and froze where she was, her heart racing.
"Roy, goddamn it, don't do this," Jim shouted after Pam had done the same.
"Give her back to me," Roy said, trembling with the gun still at his temple.
"Roy, we can talk about this, but I need you to put the gun down," Pam pleaded again, inching towards him with her hand out. He looked at her, eyes still wide and bloodshot. She walked a little faster towards him, her hand out to him.
"You'll come with me?" he mumbled to her.
"We'll all go together and talk and work something out, but you've got to give me the gun, Roy," Pam whispered, now only feet from him, smelling the liquor that he seemed to be doused in.
He relented. He slowly lowered the gun to his side, and stared into Pam's eyes. She tried her best to smile when he did this, hiding the panic and fear that had gripped her for the past few minutes since he charge out on them. "Come on, Roy, let's take some time to calm down. Why don't you put the gun on the ground?" she asked him. She could see now that it was the gun that he had kept in his sock drawer at home, in case of attackers as he had always said.
Roy stared down at her, and seemed to soften, his face seemed to relax. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them he saw her hand: a new ring. A shiny ring with a big diamond. Not his ring, He looked up at Jim, he looked down at her and contorted his face with anger.
He flipped the gun back up and pressed it into Pam's chest.
"Roy…what… why?" Pam whispered to him, feeling the metal cold against her thin dress. Roy could see her trembling, her eyes rimmed with terror-laden tears.
"Roy, don't, what? Dammit, don't!" Pam heard Jim desperately shout, his voice breaking with fear.
"We're not talking, are we? You've given yourself to that slimy bastard… he charmed you, poisoned your mind, and now you're his. You're HIS!" he grabbed her hand and waved her ring in front of her face. A small gasping sob escaped her lips. "You bitch… you whore… he took you from me and now you're not worth taking back," his voice roared maniacally and shook her arm again.
"Roy… please don't hurt her, please," Jim begged, feeling as if his feet were encased in cement – twenty feet away but twenty feet that couldn't be crossed before Roy could kill her.
Roy's eyes flashed with a manic thought when he heard Jim again. "What makes you think I'd ever hurt her, Halpert?"
Roy shoved Pam away roughly onto the street and raised his gun again.
"But I would hurt you."
Two gunshots could be heard ringing through the normally quiet neighborhood, and then all was silent again.