I returned to the office about forty-five minutes later then my normal scheduled time not caring that I was late because I was on such a high from my lunch with Pam. I came in quietly, hoping that Dwight wouldn't reprimand me for being late but when I entered our cubicle he was immersed in a computer game. For a moment, I stood behind him, watching his player fly through the sky. It didn't take me long to realize he was playing one of those online virtual world things that he was so fond of and that the avatar he had created was nearly identical to himself.

"Hey Dwight," I said placing my bag on my chair. Dwight didn't respond and hunched over his keyboard more. He looked rather intense, his eyes strained as he stared at the screen. "Dwight?" I called a little louder but he didn't respond. "So, am I writing this thing alone?" I asked thinking that maybe it was better if he stayed in that trance. "Hey, Dwight, there's a robot throwing beets at people right outside!" I shouted just to see how far gone he was. Not even turning around, he mumbled something inaudible then groaned at my computer.

While I wasn't surprised that Dwight was infatuated with a video game, I thought it was odd that he would neglect his work, which was very atypical. If I had cared more, I would have asked if he were alright but instead I sat down into my chair and turned on the computer.

The first thing I did was check my email and when I saw that I had over fifty new messages I realized just how absent I had been from my work lately. Working from the oldest to most recent I noticed most of the email wasn't necessary, there were a few articles on sports I would read later, a few memos that were no longer relevant, and one from an old friend asking if I wanted to be in their fantasy football league this year.

There was one from Karen dated two days ago, the day she left for her sister's wedding, and I felt a horrible twinge of guilt when I read her cheerful letter listing off a dozen things we could go do when she got back. She had been having a good time with her sister but mentioned that she missed me and couldn't wait to get back home. Not wanting to be reminded of how much of a jerk I could occasionally be, I deleted the email immediately.

While I had been reading, a new message appeared in the inbox. It was a forward from my boss originally from a graphic designer firm that I had never heard of and when I opened the message I found a simple note: Here are the previews of the website, let us know what you think. I wasn't sure why I had received this and figured that Josh just wanted to show everyone what the new website would look like. Not bothering to even look at the previews, I closed the window and got out of my email.

I wiggled in my seat, feeling like I had already been sitting there too long and glanced over at Dwight who was still playing his game. I didn't feel like making the effort to get his attention so instead, I thought I'd write the article on the marathon without him and opened my notes.

The article wasn't that hard to write but my mind kept straying. I thought of Pam and wondered what she was doing out at the festival. I thought of tonight, of our date, and began come up with ideas for what to do. As soon as that was in my head, I found it difficult to write about runners in a race that held little interest to me. I occasionally glanced up at the clock to see that time was moving incredibly slow and would continue to do so since I was so eager to leave. By the time I had actually finished the article, it was only two and I knew I had another few agonizing hours to go before I could leave.

While it was a slow news day, not much that needed to be covered, I figured I could do a little research and find something of some interest but even that proved difficult as nothing but going back to the art festival seemed to interest me. I had barely started searching the internet when Dwight let out a loud, frustrated grunt and slammed his fists on his desk.

"Noooo," he screamed at the computer. "You stupid idiot. Don't you know anything?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my full attention on Dwight now. "Did you lose your game?"

"It's not a game," Dwight surprisingly shot back. I didn't think he had heard me.

"Well, it looks like a game. There appear to be guns," I noted, seeing not only Dwight but also others with shotguns in their hands.

"This is Second Life, Jim," Dwight snarled, still not looking at me. "I don't know why you never pay attention when I talk to you. And those are other people who think they know the proper rules to a paintball war but are obviously mistaken."

I raised my eyebrows. "You are playing paintball…online. Can't you play it with people here in reality."

Dwight growled. "These people are real, Jim. And besides, I would never trust Mose with a paintball gun. Also, this way it is less messy. Now if you leave me alone I am almost finished single handedly winning this war. If only those idiots on my own team would just get out of the way…" He violently slammed down on the keyboard and I decided it would be best to let him be.

I had originally intended to get back to work but curiosity nagged at me so I looked up what Second Life was. I had heard of it but had never used it and before long, the idea came to me that it would be great fun to follow around Dwight, I began creating an avatar of my own. I didn't realize how involved it was and just the task of setting up an account and personalizing it, not to mention spending a great deal of time making the avatar just the way I wanted proved to be a time consuming task.

Eventually, I was able to get it all worked out and I was soon on my way to tracking Dwight. After more searching, lots of looking at the help function, and a few failed attempts, I was able to find Dwight, still playing paintball. He hadn't noticed I joined the game, being too busy chasing around some Goth-looking teenage avatar. Amused that he was distracted, I was able to use the paintball gun I had and shot him in the shoulder from behind. I went around the corner of a building so he couldn't see me but his avatar looked as irate as he did. I looked up from my computer to see him fuming and tried hard to suppress a laugh. Before I could go after him again, my phone rang.

It was Pam and she was probably the only one who could turn my attention away from my newfound hobby. "Hey," I said brightly into the phone.

"Hey," she returned and just by the sound of her voice, I could tell she was smiling. The thought gave me a warm feeling inside. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No, not at all," I assured her. "What's up?"

"Well, I was thinking," she started. "I know we were going to do that whole, traditional, guy picks up the girl at her home and go out thing, but would be okay if you just picked me up from work? I mean, um, you could drop me off at my apartment and come back or stay and you could just…stay or whatever, while I changed. Well, that's weird isn't it? And Michael and Jan aren't back so I just thought…"

"Yes," I interrupted. I grinned to myself, loving how flustered I made her and any excuse to be in her apartment again was fine by me. "I will definitely come pick you up. I'll be there when I get done with work."

"Really?" she asked. I could sense the excitement in her voice, which made me want to leave right that second. "What time do you think you'll be here?"

I looked up at the clock; surprised to find that had I had spent nearly two and a half hours on Second Life. "Oh, wow," I said into the phone. "You know what, I think I may finish up what I have here and head on over there."

"Awesome," Pam replied.

"So, how's the festival going?" I asked leaning back in my chair.

"Pretty well," she replied. "With Michael and Jan gone there's a sense of calmness that I think was missing the first few days. It's running rather smoothly and part of me hopes they don't come back until tomorrow." She let out a tiny laugh at the end of her sentence. "Oh, hey, that reminds me, I know you've been over here a lot lately but I was wondering if you'd be interested in coming to the fireworks show tonight? It's just one of the few things I've been looking forward too."

"Yeah, I'd love too," I replied happily.

"Really?" she sounded relieved.

"Of course, I…" I was interrupted by a loud bang that came from computer. Dwight had found my avatar and shot me in the head with the paintball gun. I could hear his sardonic laugh from across the room.

"What was that?" Pam asked rather concerned.

"Oh, that was Dwight," I said as if it was no big deal.

"What did he do?" Pam continued. "It sounded like he shot something."

"Yeah, he shot me in the head," I said simply.

"What!" She let out a laugh because obviously, I was fine.

"It's a online game," I explained quickly. "Or social interactive virtual thing. And Dwight shot me with a paintball gun. Have you ever heard of Second Life?"

"Yeah," she said slowly. "You guys are on Second Life in the middle of the work day?" she was more amused then anything.

I realized how unprofessional that sounded. "Uh, yeah," I gave. "It's, uh, a teamwork building thing."

"Uh-huh," she replied, obviously not believing that. "I'll bet you're one of those people who spent hours creating the perfect avatar," she teased.

"No, it didn't take me that long," I insisted.

"Is it a better looking version…"

"A better looking version?"

"…one that has all sorts of skills you don't really have?" She laughed.

"Uh, I just created this thing, I really didn't…"

"Ooohh, can I see it tonight?" she sounded thrilled at the prospect even though I wasn't so sure. "I'll use it and shoot Dwight back in the head for you. We can watch his head explode together."

"Whoa, Beesly," I said with a laugh. "This is a new and interesting side I haven't seen."

"I'm just full of surprises," she assured me. There was no doubt in my mind that she was.

Before I could reply, the phone on my desk rang. "Hey, Pam, hang on a sec," I said, putting my cell on mute and picking up the work phone. It was my boss, Josh and he didn't sound too happy. He asked to see me in his office and a rush of nervousness swept over me. When I hung up with him, I unmuted my cell. "Pam, I, uh, need to go."

"Is everything alright?" she asked, quickly picking up the shift in my tone of voice.

"Yeah, it's just work related," I said not feeling like I needed to elaborate. "I'll just call you when I'm on my way over, okay?"

"Alright," she said hesitantly. "Talk to you later."

"Yup, see you in a bit," I returned. I waited a moment to brace myself before heading out to see Josh.

* * *

"Hey, Dwight," I said standing behind him as he still stayed glued to his computer. "I need to go see Josh, do you want me to give him a hard copy of the marathon story or do you want to read it first." I didn't care either way, but I knew how Dwight would be if I didn't ask first.

"Don't need to worry about that," Dwight said as he frantically moved his joystick and slammed on the computer keys. His avatar swirled around the sky, avoiding fake paintball pellets. "I have already accomplished that task and sent him a copy earlier."

"What?" I asked confused. I was already nervous about seeing Josh and hoped a completed assignment may have made things a little easier.

"That's what happens when you take a two hour lunch, Jim," he said with a smirk.

"And you didn't think to tell me when I got back?" I was now angry that he purposely went out of his way to make my life miserable.

"That's life," he replied unapologetically. He cackled unnervingly and I couldn't tell if it was at the computer screen or me.

Not wanting to find out I took off down the hall for Josh's office, contemplating all the things he could possibly have to talk to me about along the way. While it could have been anything, including just informing me about another assignment, I had an uneasy feeling that the meeting would not go well. At least, hopefully, I could explain that Dwight didn't wait for me before writing the marathon article. Granted, I wasn't never going to wait for Dwight either but maybe it would gain me a few points with Josh.

The office door was shut when I arrived and Karen stood across from it leaning again the wall. She was studying a piece of paper when I approached and when she looked up to see me coming she rolled her eyes. As I came up beside her, she remained silent and walked away. I should have remained quiet as well but wanting to see if she knew anything about what my boss wanted, I asked her a question.

"Did Josh call you down here too?"

She eyed me darkly. "No," she replied shortly. "I was just going to let Josh know I still have these tickets and I'll be doing the story on the play tonight.."

"Oh, you're going to a play?" I asked, trying to sound interested, anything to take away the awkwardness of the situation.

"Oh my god," she said in sheer disbelief. "You don't even remember. Why would I expect you to?" she muttered.

It then dawned on me that before she left to go to her sister's wedding she had asked me to come to an assignment with her. A local adaptation and production of a classic novel was premiering that night at a local theater. "A Room with A View?" I asked feeling even more guilty than I had before.

"And do you know what the worst part is?" she asked, now sounding angry like she had early that morning. "I hated the novel. Why would anyone want to make a play based off that novel? The main character is dull and wishy-washy. She has a nice life ahead of her and she just runs off on a whim with some guy she barely knows. She's an idiot. And I can't get out of this because no one else will take it. So that's two hours of suffering for me."

Feeling as though I should make it up to her, and thinking it might make a great first date idea for Pam, I could take the tickets from her. "Uh, Karen, if you really don't want to do it, I could go."

She pursed her lips. "Why, so you can spend the next three days with the theater company?" her words dripped with sarcasm. "So you can enjoy yourself with your new girlfriend and eventually leave me with the article to write? I am not going to give you the satisfaction."

I let out a sigh, let the silence resume between us and rested my back against the wall, making sure to keep a few feet away from Karen. I could see in the glass windows of Josh's office and it looked like Josh was busy talking to Stanley. I watched the two talk for a few minutes and I noticed Josh's face become grim.

"Hey, what's going on in there?" I asked even though Karen didn't seem like talking.

"You mean you haven't heard," she said with a twisted smile. "Stanley got a better offer at some paper in Utica. And with all the times he's had to cover your butt over the past week, apparently he feels underappreciated and overworked. He put in his two weeks notice this morning. I guess you can blame yourself for us losing one of our best reporters. Maybe Josh wants to personally thank you."

My stomach churned. "I never intended this to happen," I let out not knowing what to say and I knew Karen was right, that it was my fault that I had been irresponsible about my job lately.

Karen studied me carefully and for a moment I thought I saw pity sweep over her face. "What happened Jim?" she asked finally, her tone a bit calmer than before. "I feel like…like I don't even know you anymore. I mean, I go away for a few days and I come back and it's like you're this entirely new person that I've never met. The Jim I knew wouldn't blow his work off. The Jim I knew wouldn't get in fights with people's ex-husbands."

I looked at her surprised she knew that. "How did…"

"Darryl," she explained simply. "Told me everything this morning."

I could see the hurt in her eyes and I looked at the ground trying to avoid her stare. I felt like a bad guy.

"And I thought we were doing well," Karen reflected looking up at the ceiling.

I wasn't sure I could agree with that. I remembered the year I spent with Karen clearly, all the arguing, the endless talks about the relationship, the break-up that didn't end. And, true, we had been getting along better recently but we were becoming friends again. With Karen, I always felt like I was being pushed to something. It never felt easy. Not like it did with Pam. I thought about how natural it felt to be with Pam and lamented the fact that I hadn't met her earlier in life. I couldn't help but think it would have saved all of us, including Karen, some pain.

I was so lost in my thoughts I hadn't realized Karen had started speaking again. "…and we started to make all these plans again," she was saying even though I wasn't listening entirely. "And that kiss, Jim. Didn't that mean anything to you?"

"No, it didn't," I responded not thinking before I spoke. The minute it was out of my mouth I regretted saying it. Seeing the pained look on her face, as though I had slapped her, made me a little ill. "I mean, not that it didn't at the time," I tried back peddling but the more I kept talking the worse it got. "I mean, I wanted to kiss you but I didn't feel anything and I should have said something but then I met Pam and it…doesn't…matter…" I trailed off as I watched Karen's eyes grow wider and wider.

"Thank you for that," she said harshly. "Thank you for telling me how little I mean to you and how great your new relationship is, even though you've known the girl only a few days but, hey, I guess that doesn't stop you from sleeping with her right away. Your honesty has been enlightening, thank you for that."

"I haven't slept with her," I said defensively.

"What?" she seemed shocked. "You spent the night with her."

"We talked all night," I said quietly. Karen's face paled at the realization. I wondered if it had been only about sex, Karen could have handle that better. But what Pam and I the connection already seemed to run so much deeper and as that dawned on Karen, her eyes began to tear up. She had been a rock up until that point and she now she began to crumble. I felt horrible that I was responsible for her feeling this way. "Karen, I'm so-"

"Is she worth it?" Karen asked, her voice high and shaky. "Is she worth all the damage to your job, your career, your personal relationships."

I could only tell her the truth. "Yes," I said in all seriousness, feeling warm at the thought of how much Pam meant to me. "She is."

"Ok then," Karen said trying hard to hold it together. "I'm just gonna…I'll just…I'll talk to Josh later," she finally got out. She turned her back on me and started to walk away.

"Karen, I-" I started to call out.

She held up her hand. "Just don't Jim," she said. "Just don't."

Before I could say anything more, Stanley came out of Josh's office. He gave me an angry look, which made me even more nervous about sitting down with Josh.

"I'm staying," Stanley said in a grumpy voice. "I got a raise outta this situation. But I swear, if you dump one more of your stories in my lap, it'll be a dark day for you."

I shivered. Never in my life had I heard Stanley talk like that. I nodded and went past him into Josh's office.

* * *

I took a seat across from Josh, folded my hands in my lap and waited. Josh, who sat forward over his desk, gazed over me, as if deeply contemplating what to say. He opened his mouth once and shut it again changing his mind about how to start. I did my best not to squirm but the more time we sat in silence, the more nervous I got. I didn't normally feel this uncomfortable in Josh's presence but I don't believe he ever gave me that worried look either.

"How's Karen doing?" Josh asked unexpectedly.

I was taken off guard by the question and wasn't entirely sure how I should respond. "Um…I'm not sure. I haven't really seen her lately."

Josh nodded though I wasn't sure he believed me. "She just seems…down lately. Are you guys…"

"No," I said quickly. Whatever it was that Josh wanted to ask, I didn't really want to know. I didn't want to even think about Karen and hoped that eventually I could erase the memory of our hallway conversation permanently.

"Oh," Josh could take the hint and decided to move on. "Um, Jim, there are some things I need to discuss with you but first, did you get the evaluation of the web page done?"

I was utterly confused as to what he was talking about. "Uh…I'm sorry what?"

"This morning, I asked for each department to look at the webpage design and give me their opinion on them," he explained. I continued to stare at him blankly. "I forwarded you the sample. Didn't you get it?"

It started to dawn on me now what he was talking about. That strange email from a graphic design company I had never heard of. But for the life of me, I couldn't remember anything that was in it nor did I remember actually agreeing to look over it. It must have been during the morning meeting and I had completely blocked it out. I sank lower in my seat. "I…uh, yeah I just have been busy. I'll be sure to get that to you right away."

Josh let out a disappointed sigh and rubbed his forehead. "Jim, is there anything you want to tell me?"

I shifted my weight uneasily. "I'm not sure what you're getting at."

Josh pointed up at my eye. "I, uh, heard about the fight."

My hand automatically flew up to my eye and I wished I had taken that waitress at the diner this morning's offer to give me some make-up to cover it up. "Oh, this, it's nothing. Really…"

"It's not nothing when one of my promising young reporters starts getting into fights in public places. Especially when it's uncharacteristic. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? Are you sure there isn't something going on that I should know about it."

I squirmed again. I wasn't sure how explaining an infatuation with my new relationship had pretty much put the rest of my life hold would be beneficial to the situation, so instead, I lied. "No, nothing that I can think of."

Josh let out another sigh. "Jim, do you remember back when you first started the big birthday fiasco?" I nodded, remembering clearly but wondered where he was going with it and didn't think it could be anything good. "That started out as me wanting to throw a party for a good friend and older reporter here. Afterwards, a few other reporters decided they wanted their birthdays celebrated and once we did that, other departments, secretaries, everyone wanted their birthdays celebrated. Eventually, I decided it would be easier to just celebrate them all at the same time. And that ended up being more of a hassle then trying to remember everyone's birthday in the first place so we just don't do that anymore. I chalk it up to bad judgment on my part. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

I shook my head, I honestly didn't. "No," I replied slowly.

"I'm not sure what has been going on with you lately," Josh continued seriously. "And at this point, I'm not sure I want to know but in the past week, you've missed two story deadlines, Karen has had to finish a story that you begged me to do, Dwight turned the story on the marathon…"

"…I did write that," I protested automatically. "Dwight just turned it in without me knowing."

"Fine," Josh said dismissively. "That story wasn't important anyway but then I asked you to do a menial task to help us out and you claim to have been busy. Dwight mentioned that you were at lunch for two hours, is that correct?"

I suddenly felt very queasy. Never had I been questioned like this at work and I was starting to fear for my job. "I, uh…" I trailed off not able to come up with a suitable answer.

"Look, Jim, we have very strict rules at this newspaper," Josh said with a frown. I stared at my lap trying to avoid his eyes. "And if it were any other editor, I think they have let you go by now. But I like you Jim. And I think that whatever has caused this lapse in judgment lately will pass. Instead of firing you, I'm going to put you on probation. Just show some initiative, that you still care about your job and have that ambition I found in the guy I hired, and you'll be fine."

I let out a breath of relief. "Oh my god, yes, I'll definitely pick up my work ethic," I replied happy that I was still employed. "Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it."

For the first time since I entered the room, Josh smiled. "Good. Okay, so I still would like your opinion on the new website design by this afternoon. I'll talk to Dwight, again, about sending things in without his co-author. That talk is getting a little old now but I don't need to tell you. Oh, and I'm not sure how much you've heard but Stanley has decided to stay though I suggest, if you are really in a bind, that you go somewhere else if you need to trade a story."

I gave him a weak smile. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, I'll get that stuff to you right away."

"Oh, and I might have a story for you to cover this evening, can you be on call?" he asked.

A twisted feeling came grew in my stomach again. "Uh, sure," I said quietly hoping that it was nothing that would compromise my date with Pam.

"There's a retired local golf pro in town," Josh explained. "If I could pull some strings, we could get an interview. Thought that story might be fun for you. I'll give you call if it's a go."

I nodded feeling conflicted. Any other day I would love to talk to any professional athlete. Tonight, however, I wanted for myself. I began to pray that my boss wouldn't call. "Alright, sounds good," I said with a forced smile.

"Okay then, that's all I need," Josh said standing. "I'll be happy to see you get back on your game."

"Me too," I said as I stood as well.

Josh opened his door. "Hey, one last thing. Do you think you can talk with Karen? I'm a little worried about her and I know even if you guys aren't together, you've been friends for a long time."

"Uh, yeah," I replied hesitantly. I had to laugh a little to myself as I was probably the last person Karen wanted to talk to.

"Thanks, Jim," Josh said with an encouraging smile.

"No problem," I replied, quickly heading out the door, glad that talk was over and at the least, I still had my job intact.

* * *

It didn't take me long to accomplish getting the web designs checked out. And after Dwight was reprimanded for turning in the article without me, in which he was not happy about and let me know extensively when he got back from Josh's office, the marathon article was finished and a final draft was turned in. I had a few smaller things to take care of and a couple of emails to reply to but as soon as I hit send on the last one, I shut down my computer and head out, happy that I could call it a day. Josh had yet to mention more about the golfer interview and as I grabbed my bag and jacket, I hoped that my luck would continue.

I was earlier than I expected I would be heading over to the festival but I doubted Pam would care. I raced across town, already feeling better that the closer I got to Pam, the more I could put Karen, the probation, and work in general behind me. My troubles seemed to fade knowing that I got to spend the rest of my evening with Pam. It wasn't long before I arrived, parked my car, threw my jacket and tie in the backseat, and headed into the park.

I thought I would have to call her to find her location but I found Pam easily. Up at the pavilion there were dozens of ping-pong tables set up, what that had to do with art I couldn't tell you, but there was Pam off to the far left side engaged in a game with Kelly. I came up slowly behind Pam, amused as I watched the women attempt to hit the ball back and forth. Neither seemed to be that good but both had serious looks on their faces as if the game meant something to them. The closer I got it seemed as though they were engrossed in some sort of argument.

"So, were your parents first cousins that sucked at ping-pong? Because that's how you play," I heard Kelly taunt Pam as she hit the ball. It didn't get over the net and she had to try again.

"Well…you suck too," Pam shot back.

"You are so going down, Beesly," Kelly was able to hit the ball over the net this time and Pam missed the shot.

"Oh, I would have gotten that if I wasn't blinded by that hideous yellow dress you have on," Pam said, grabbing the ball for her serve.

"Well, at least I don't shop at a thrift store," Kelly answered. Pam hit the ball and they were able to volley it twice before it bounced off the table again, this time on Kelly's side.

"Maybe I like the thrift store," Pam said defensively, awaiting the ball for her serve.

"You're just cheap," Kelly retorted, bouncing the ball at Pam.

"You're the cheap one," Pam said. It had a definite double meaning that Kelly seemed to miss. The ping-pong ball lay on the table, forgotten.

"Your momma's cheap," Kelly sneered.

"My momma is not cheap!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

I couldn't suppress my laughter any longer and chuckled loudly at their trash talk. Both girls' heads shot in my direction, Kelly's with a scowl, Pam with a broad grin upon seeing me.

"Oh, god, you're here again?" was Kelly's immediate reaction.

"Hey," Pam said brightly, placing her paddle on the table. "I thought you were going to call."

"I know," I said coming up to her and placing my arms around her. "I got out early and thought I'd surprise you." I dipped down to give her a gentle kiss.

She blushed and tilted her head towards Kelly. "Jim…"

"Oh…my…god!" Kelly breathed. "Are you guys together? Pam, why didn't you tell me? I can't believe you would hold out on me after all the dark secrets I share with you. It's only fair." Kelly then turned towards me, "Oh my god, no wonder you came back today. Oh, and that's why you stood up to Roy yesterday and he totally punched you out. That was soooo romantic…" she continued to gush.

Pam looked up at me with a smirk. "See what you did," she teased.

I shrugged. "Worth it," I gave. She had no idea how happy I was just to be standing there holding her in my arms.

Kelly encroached on us and reached her hand up to touch my face. I pulled away, but she persisted laying her fingers on my eye. "Yeah, that black eye so tacky, I know just the stuff to cover that up."

"Why don't you go get that," Pam said thoughtfully. I my eyebrows rose in wonderment until Kelly turned away excitedly, bouncing off the pavement chattering about shades of cover-up and I realized it was Pam's way of getting rid of Kelly.

"Thank you," I said smiling before giving her another small kiss.

"Oh, she will be back," Pam warned. "I only bought us a half hour at most."

"So, why don't you and I just get out of here," I suggested.

Pam let out a tiny groan. "I can't go anywhere until Jan and Michael get back. I'm sorry."

"That's fine," I said, I didn't care where we were, as long as we were together. "Why don't we…" I glanced over at the ping-pong table. "…play a game." I broke away from her and grabbed Kelly's discarded ping-pong paddle.

"Think you're any good?" she challenged, picking up her own paddle.

"Oh, I know I'm good," I joked. Actually, I sucked at ping-pong but she didn't know that…yet. I grabbed the ball and proceeded to do the only thing I knew how, a special serve that my brothers may or may not have made up and taught me back in the fourth grade. "Spin serve," I called out as I whacked the ball. It hit the edge of the table and shot out into the grass.

Pam doubled over in laughter. "That was…great," she said as she gasped for air.

"Yeah, like you were doing any better with Kelly," I gave back as I fetched the ball and tossed her the ball.

"I can do better then that," she replied.

"Bring it, Beesly," I dared.

"Oh, I will," she shot back. She hit the ball hard it bounced off the table, and got stuck between the net wires right in the middle. Pam and I both leaned forward to inspect it.

"Wow," I said amazed. "That was impressive."

Pam laughed and came around the table to get the ball out. We continued to play, horrible as ever, but laughing and joking as we did so. We were able to get into the middle of our second game when Pam looked behind me and her face fell. I turned my head to see Jan approaching the pavilion, a scowl on her face, Michael trailing with his head down a few feet behind her.

"Oh, no," Pam said as she came around the table beside me. "Hey, Jan," Pam said hesitantly as Jan came up to us. "Did you guys get things smoothed over with Mrs. Allen?"

Jan pursed her lips together so tightly that I feared it was taking every ounce of her composure not to start screaming. Whatever had happened, it was bad. "Well, maybe Michael should tell you how it went."

Michael stood a good two feet behind her staring at the grass. For once, he was rather quiet. "No, Jan, I, uh, think you should tell it."

"Well, unfortunately, the museum is going to be sued," Jan explained pretending as if it were the greatest news in the world. "And we can thank Michael and his huge mouth for that."

"It wasn't my fault," Michael mumbled.

"Wasn't your fault?" Jan shouted. A family playing ping-pong at the next table looked up at her but that didn't stop Jan from continuing to yell. "Michael, who taunted Mrs. Allen in front of the judge? Who made a complete fool of himself causing the judge to think that our museum employees, suicidal or not, are completely crazy. It wasn't me, Michael. I wish to hell I never had to bring you, but this whole mess started when you tried to jump off the roof!" Jan turned her attention back towards Pam and I and my first instinct was to run. "So, Pam, how has it been here today?"

"Oh, it's been fine," Pam let out nervously. I could tell she was very uncomfortable and I didn't blame her. I barely knew Jan and I did not want to be standing right there. "Actually, uh, Jan, I was wondering if I could have the rest of the evening off, since, you know, you guys are back."

"The evening off, why?" Jan demanded. I had thought my job would get in the way of our date. I never anticipated Pam's doing so.

"Well," Pam started meekly. "Jim and I…"

"Hmmm…" Jan said cutting her off to look me up and down. "Yes, a reporter." I wasn't sure how to respond or if I even should, so I stayed quiet. "Are you guys going out to dinner? I could use dinner. I could use a drink…" Jan trailed off rubbing her head. A sudden scary smile climbed on her face. "You know what, dinner would be fantastic. It could be like a double date," she exclaimed, her entire demeanor changing to excited.

Pam and I exchanged horrified looks. Having dinner with Jan was the last way I wanted to spend my first date with Pam. It was made even worse when Jan invited a stunned Michael to come a long and mentioned meeting at an overpriced French restaurant called Le Fromage.

"Jan, are you sure…" Pam tried in hopes that we could get out of it.

"Yes, we are doing this," Jan insisted. "This will be good for all of us." She grabbed Pam and I by the arms and began ushering us towards the parking lot. "Come on, Michael," she called out to Michael, who was pacing in the grass some feet away. "We're going out to dinner."