Author's note: Hey guys! Ummmm I just realized that I uploaded the wrong chapter. So I guess if you read the other one before I took it off, then you get a little preview bonus or something! Yay..! So I hope you all had an excellent Christmas! Mine was pretty great (: I got the Glee soundtracks (!) and The Office Season 5 (!!!!!). So if I run low on Pam/Ryan inspiration, I can watch Michael Scott Paper Company as many times as I want! My other gifts weren't as epic, obviously. What could be better than Glee and The Office!? (: Anyway, enjoy this (correct) chapter!

"Shotgun!" he called loudly from behind. He must have been walking two inches behind her for his voice to ring so clearly, but she didn't have the guts to turn around and check.

"Ryan…" she muttered in protest. It was the first time she had addressed him by name in a long time. She hated the way it made her feel. She hated the fact it made her feel.

He skipped a few steps and was walking beside her. No, not walking. More like… gliding. It was a dumb word to use, she knew, but she couldn't think of a different one to describe it. It's like he is too good to simply walk, so he just floats along. She hated that she still noticed stupid things about him. "Right. You can keep the front seat. I just said that because… I don't know why I said that. Um, never mind." She didn't look, but felt the heat radiating off of his obviously red and embarrassed cheeks. She hated that she could still make him tongue-tied.

"No, no!" Michael shouted from behind them. "All must obey the rules of 'shotgun'!" Pam sighed, and Ryan looked at her profile. She hated that he heard her. She hated how closely he walked to her. She hated that their fingers brushed, and hated that she knew it wasn't an accident. She crossed her arms and picked up the pace toward Michael's car.

"Well, if we're playing by the rules, then I can't take the seat," she heard Ryan yell toward her--their boss. "Vikram wasn't in view of the car." She took a chance and looked behind her, seeing that the tiny man Ryan referred to was just barely exiting the building. Vikram questioned the fact that his name was called, and Pam heard him shout "Shotgun!" before she got into the car. Great.

Why had she protested when Ryan wanted the front seat? At least then, they still wouldn't be too close to one another. But now that the telemarketer had joined in the boys' juvenile game, she was forced to squeeze in the back with the man currently occupying her thoughts. She tried to disregard his glances and quiet attempts at conversation as long as she could without it being obvious that she was avoiding him. Although, she couldn't figure out why she cared if he knew she was ignoring him. She hated that.

"Want some bowling shoes?" he asked with a crooked smile. "I made sure to grab your size."

She sighed and turned toward the window. "Nope." She didn't know if it was because everyone was silent, or because of Vikram's realization that not even Michael's grandmother would invest in their little company, but at that moment, a very somber air filled the car. Vikram groaned and asked to be dropped back off at the telemarketing building. The second he exited the car, Pam hopped into the passenger seat. She left the car door open for Vikram to make his parting speech, but Michael leaned over and slammed it shut.

The drive back to Michael's condo was more silent than before. Michael had turned off the radio, and they only heard the breeze against their windows on the road. Ryan's humming snuck its way into her ears. She couldn't tell if he honestly didn't care that their business would probably fail before the day was over, or if he was trying to make her (and Michael, she reasoned. But deep down, she knew it was all for her) feel better. She hated both options. A short while later, the car pulled into the driveway of Michael's condo. She saw her car parked in front of the place, and considered jumping in it before anyone noticed she was gone. Both Michael and Ryan exited the car and discussed something about TNT before Ryan dashed inside. Michael lingered by the Sebring for a minute, waiting for her to get out. But she wouldn't.

"I can't do this," she muttered, not shifting her glance. Michael sighed a few feet away before responding.

"Yeah, I know, two not-so-great things in a row. Ehhhhh well. Stuff happens, right? At least we got Ryan. The Ry-guy. We should call him 'Rye Bread.' We don't have to call him that. Unless you like it. We could call him that." She pushed off his attempt at humor and tried to decipher the "two not-so-great things." Surely he didn't know what she was talking about. Of course not. Nobody knew. But if he didn't know, what could he have meant by that sentence? Oh, the horrible investment meeting. And… Vikram quitting? He thought she was talking about the job. She decided to go along with it instead of correcting him. Besides, she was upset about the job. She just wouldn't let him know the main reason why.

"I can't do this, Michael. I had a real job. I sat ten feet away from my fiancé." She hated the depressed tone that radiated from the word "fiancé." She pushed that thought aside. "I was happy at Dunder Mifflin. I don't want to be here! I don't want to work with Ryan!"

"What!? Why?" Michael interrupted. She barreled through.

"I can't do this! I have no idea why I thought I should. I mean, I worked with Jim! Jim, Michael! And then I gave that up to come here with you… and with Ryan! I just keep getting bored. And I let things build up and build up and then I - I, I do something too big, like this. Who does this?" Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. She wasn't sure if they were because of her employment status or the… other reason. The secret reason. Michael was saying something about God, but she interrupted. "Plus, we don't have any money. We don't have an office. We don't have anything!"

Michael was slowly getting just as upset as she was. "Well we should make a list. Lists are good. Lists are good. Lists are good. First on the list, let's get you out of the car. Alright." She glanced at him before throwing her notebook out the window. "Okay…" he sighed.

"How come out of everyone in the office, I'm the only one that went with you? I mean, Dwight didn't even come! Dwight! Or Jim! I should have known that something was wrong when Jim didn't follow me out the door. Am I that stupid?"

He stepped closer to the car and looked serious all of a sudden. "I want you to listen to me. Because I want to tell you the situation that we are both in right now, kay? You quit your job. I quit my job. We both quit. Those are the facts. That's what happened. Now, what are our choices right now? Because you know, kiddo, you quit." She simply nodded in response. "So what are our options? Well, we can start this paper company. We can try. Or... that's it. That's our only option. Because we quit. Pam, I do my best work when people don't believe in me. I remember in high school, my math teacher told me I was gonna flunk out. And know what I did? The very next day I went out and I scored more goals than anyone else in the history of the hockey team." She shot a glance toward the cameras. A "Jim" glance. Michael didn't notice. "See what I mean? I thrive on this. I thrive on it. So I'm gonna go inside. I'm going to make some calls, I'm gonna get us an office space, and I'm going to show you why you joined this company. Okay?"

Pam smiled for the first time since their bowling alley detour. Michael patted the car frame before dashing through his front door. She took a few moments to calm down before exiting his little car and picked up her list. She glanced over it before finding up her pen and scratching out number three.

It wouldn't be necessary any more.