Jim was not about to let himself drown in overthinking again.

After the "Blues Cruise," he had lain awake night upon night, creating every possible, and every impossible, what-if scenario in his head:

What if he'd told her that he had feelings for her? She would probably tell him that she understood why that might happen, given their close bond as friends; explain that, in a different world where she wasn't engaged, it might have worked out; and tell him she hoped he wouldn't start acting weird around her, and they would still be the best of friends (possible). Or, she would express the feelings that she'd been keeping buried beneath her nonsense relationship to Roy that she only stayed in out of obligation. She was glad that he finally said something, because now she knew the feelings weren't one-sided. They would hop into one of the lifeboats and sail off into the moonlight (impossible).

What if he'd kissed her? She might lean in for a moment, politely place her hands on his chest, and crack a joke about him having one too many beers. He would apologize, agree, and tell her how boats must make people do crazy things (of course, there'd be a cheesy Titanic joke in there somewhere). They'd go back to the cabin, he'd watch her kiss Roy with far more than she'd put into his kiss, which had contained his every emotion, literally shattering his heart into a million pieces (possible). Or, she would jump, surprised at first, but after that initial shock, lean into his throes of passion, urging his lips apart with her tongue, moaning into his touch. She'd pull apart long enough to tell him how long she's been waiting for the feel of his body against hers, and demand that he make love to her on the deck of the boat right then and there (impossible).

What if he'd told her that he loved her? She might be scared. She might have conflicting emotions running across her face, brow furrowed, tears of confusion and frustration and guilt welling beneath her lids. She would tell him that she can't, that she's engaged, that they're best friends, and that his friendship means too much. He would fail at stopping tears of his own, knowing that there'd be no coming back from admitting that you love someone. He'd have to go, would have to leave her there on the boat confused and frustrated and feeling guilty, because to face her after that would literally rip him apart (possible). Or, those tears welling up in her eyes would be tears of relief, tears of joy, tears of hope. She'd tell him that his words echoed her every thought since they had met. She didn't know how to tell Roy. She thought that she was misinterpreting their friendship. But his words brought to life the emotions that had been welling up inside of her and assured her that they were meant to be together forever. They would march back into the cabin, hand in hand, and have Captain Jack marry them as captain of the ship (impossible).

Yup. He'd pretty much exhausted every single over-thought that existed. But he was not going to fall victim to that again, especially when their moment on the boat was so much more insignificant than the moments they'd shared last Friday night.

He had been in her home. Seen her in her pajamas, no makeup on, hair pulled back, and those cute, retro glasses framing her face. She'd shared her doubts with him. Fallen asleep on his shoulder.

And, of course, he'd fixed her toilet. That had to count for something, right?

But if one moment with gazes locked over Lake Wallenpaupack could send him into overdrive, what was he going to get himself into by honing in on "what Friday night meant?"

It would take him nowhere but straight to his own personal hell, which is why distractions had become critical.

Jim Halpert had never worked as hard at his job as a paper salesman as he had in those five days. He'd actually landed two new accounts, and convinced 4 of his clients to renew and increase their supply. He was ahead on his paperwork, and his desk had never been cleaner. As for after work, he had all but bullied Mark into having endless Madden tournaments every night until the early hours of the morning. When Mark would finally call it quits-something about "having to work early in the morning and needing sleep," whatever that meant-Jim would dive into the pile of crime novels that he picked up from the library. He figured that if he needed distractions, he'd at least make some of them educational.

Seeing her at work wasn't too bad. Her smile still filled him with warmth, but then he would be reminded of the grin she bore while they joked and shared ice cream. Her giggles still filled him with light, but then the Boy Meets World theme would resonate in his thoughts, and he would be transported back to her couch, their bodies close enough to touch. Suddenly, he was reaching up to loosen his necktie. Her closeness still makes him giddy with anticipation and hope, but without warning, she would brush past him the kitchen, and instantly her head is on his shoulder, her goosebumps close enough to touch, like braille letters that bare his soul, and he finds himself rushing out of the kitchen without even refilling his coffee cup.

He tried to make their interactions as normal as possible, but he knew that the tension was present. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable. He didn't want her to feel as though they couldn't still have that special friend connection. Despite the love for her that poured from his very soul, he couldn't imagine her cutting him off completely. He would rather have their friendship than nothing. If loving her from a distance was painful, not having her in his life would most certainly kill him.

But he also knew that, at least for right now, he couldn't necessarily act as though she had no affect on him whatsoever. So while he normally dreaded the weekends, he was actually grateful when 5 o'clock on Friday evening rolled around.

He was already set up with plenty to keep his mind from missing her, and from reminiscing on what had transpired 7 days before: Friday night, Mark was hosting a poker night with some of his buddies from work, which would serve not only to fix his brain on something else, but would undoubtedly put a bit more spending cash in his pocket. Saturday was basketball in the morning, deep cleaning the house all afternoon (which was literally something neither he nor Mark ever did), and catching dinner and a movie with his brother Tom in the evening. Sunday, he'd visit his parents. They knew better than to even mention Pam's name.

As he was leaving the office at 5:07 that evening, he noticed that Pam was still finishing up a few things at her desk. To put his own mind at ease, and because they were still friends, he stopped by to pick up a few jellybeans, and to inquire about her weekend whereabouts.

"It's Friday, Beesly. What are you still doin' here? Don't you have big weekend plans? Household appliances to destroy?"

She rolled her eyes, but offered him a smile.

"As a matter of fact, I do have big weekend plans, and this time, none of them involve toilets."

"Oh?" He was suddenly regretting his decision to ask her about her weekend plans. He didn't want to know that she and Roy would be galavanting in the Poconos, or venturing to the city, or spending the entire weekend in bed. His hands shifted to his tie again, fussing with the noose that had suddenly wound itself tighter.

"Yeah, I mean, kind of. Not the most exciting weekend, honestly." Her eyes wandered as the words danced off her tongue, their beat unsteady as if she was stalling. "I think we're going to stay in and order takeout tonight, but then I get to spend the day with my mom tomorrow. She's going to come down and we're going to head to the mall and get our nails done and do lunch."

He noticed how her expression shifted as she spoke; she was quiet and avoiding as she spoke about Roy-not even mentioning his name; but when she spoke of her plans with her mom, she met his eyes, and her face lit up like a Christmas tree. These small details did not go unnoticed.

"Sounds like the Beesly Weekend of Fun!" He grinned, almost too enthusiastically. "I expect you properly fun-gover on Monday. Sunglasses, coffee, mismatched shoes, the whole shebang. Nothing less."

She chuckled, her head falling as it cocked slightly.

One of her curls dropped across her eyes. It took everything in his power not to tuck it back into place.

"And what about you? I expect you've got a rousing weekend of fun activities planned?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, of course. Poker night, video games, dinner with the 'rents. Ya know, all of the typical things an eligible, single bachelor should be doing with his weekends."

The awkwardness was palpable as they met and broke eye contact several times, chuckling nervously for what seemed like more than the few seconds that it lasted. Eventually, they both reached for their coats, glad when Angela joined them in the elevator to stand as a silent mediator.

The trio remained speechless on the short elevator ride, said their goodbyes, and entered vehicles at separate ends of the parking lot.

Unbeknownst to them, Jim and Pam each let out a breath at the same moment that neither knew was being held in the first place.

After silently vowing to drink no more than two beers for the duration of the poker game, Jim had successfully tripled the amount of money he had started with. Mark's friends were decent at the game, but with liquid inhibitors coursing through them at an alarming rate, Jim's skills and keen eye for detail was playing well into his favor. As he debated the the different ways in which he was going to invest his money (Phillies/Mets tickets, a second TV and XBox so he and Mark didn't have to always play split screen, a time machine so he could go back to the deck of that boat and open up his goddamn mouth…) his eyes were pulled suddenly toward the clock. He didn't understand why until he noticed the time.

2:38 AM.

This time last week, she was falling asleep on his shoulder. This time last week, he felt the most at peace that he had ever been.

Suddenly, his left arm grew a little bit heavier.

Well, he certainly had tried.


Pam had honestly had a pretty great night.

Roy had surprised her when they got home from work, mentioning that he was going to take a week off from going out with the boys for their weekly Friday escapades and take her out to dinner. Sure, seafood wasn't her favorite, but it was the gesture that counted. She and Roy talked, joked, and actually laughed. Returning home, they cuddled up on the couch, and he even offered to let her pick the movie even though his game was on. She feigned exhaustion, telling him that she really appreciated his offer, but let him put the Duke game on. She was just glad to be spending time together. He thanked her, and she knew he was being genuine. She remained on the middle cushion, propped under Roy's strong arm, in his spot on the left side of the couch.

It felt off, but Pam couldn't, or wouldn't, put her finger on why.

She thought he might try to coerce her into going back to the bedroom, but only the occasional soft kiss melted on the top of her head. He had heard her when she said she was tired. He had listened. He truly was a good guy.

They both fell asleep on the couch around 1 AM, Pam's head cradled in Roy's lap. But when she woke up at 2:38 AM, somehow, her body had completely shifted.

She was laying with her head in the lap of the right side cushion. Roy's touch was absent. She wouldn't admit it, but she was much more comfortable here.


Although Jim had experienced a minor hiccup in his night, he had been so exhausted from an entire week of avoidance tactics that as soon as their house was empty, he passed out before his face even hit the pillow.

Of course, he was awake bright and early at 7 AM, body drenched in cold sweat, from a nightmare he had been drowning in. He and Pam were on the deck of the boat. He had just admitted that he was in love with her. She was smiling, reaching for him, but then suddenly Cory Matthews was there, and the EPCOT fountain was in the middle of Lake Wallenpaupack. Cory and Pam were standing in the middle of the fountain, expressing their love for one another, while he and Topanga, and...Roy? What was Roy doing there?-stood watching.

"Aren't they perfect for each other?" Topanga gushed, her hands clasped together over her heart.

"I couldn't agree more." Roy was beaming. Jim was sweating, panicking. He hurled his body into the life boat and paddled as fast as his arms would carry him. But the harder he paddled, the farther away Pam and Cory seemed to be.

"Halpert, give it up, man. She ain't worth it!"

"You can't stop true love!"

Despite the echoing voices of Roy and Topanga (he still wasn't getting over that), he refused to give up. He couldn't give up.

As they grew farther and farther from his boat, a dim light replaced Cory and Pam, growing brighter from the center on out. She's coming back for me. He slowed his rowing. Suddenly, over the top of the burning light, he made out a Sheriff's hat, and a pair of thick, square frames.

"Unauthorized vehicles will be removed from the water immediately. Sir, do you have a boating license?"

Dwight? What the hell was Dwight doing here?

"I can't leave yet! Pam-she's making a mistake! I have to stop her! I have to tell her I-"

"Sir, you're going to have to come with me."

"No, Dwight, I can't-"

He was peering around Dream Dwight, a glimpse of her honey-gold curls so bright in contrast to the dark, dream-night sky, when his alarm shook him from his suffocating hallucinations.

He threw on a pair of basketball shorts, a t-shirt, and a hoodie, brushed his teeth, and didn't bother with his hair. Gym bag in tow, he pulled out of the driveway, not even noticing the bitter cold nipping at his bare skin. He needed this basketball game more than he thought he would.


When Pam awoke, to the sound of a bowl clattering on the counter, it took her a moment to realize that she was still on the couch. Roy must have left her there in the early hours of the morning, not bothering to ask her to come to bed.

Oh well. It had been nice while it lasted.

She picked her head up off the right side cushion where she had lain all night, scratching her face as she peered behind her, over the back of the couch, squinting into the kitchen to see her fiance. He was already dressed in his gym clothes, no doubt getting ready for a few pickup games of basketball at the Y with his buddies.

"Sorry, babe, I didn't mean to wake you." He smiled, looking at her over the breakfast bar as he poured milk into his bowl of Frosted Flakes.

Wouldn't have woken me up if you would have asked me to go to bed last night.

She could only smile in return, her contentment, even joy from the night before, already wavering as she stood to rub her eyes. Realizing that she had fallen asleep with her contacts in, she rushed to the bathroom to flush out her eyes and don her glasses for the day. Not ideal, but she would only be seeing her mother after all.

After brushing her teeth, washing her face, and making her hair publically acceptable, she returned to the kitchen where Roy was drinking orange juice straight from the carton. She absolutely hated that. Sure, she shared bodily fluids with the guy when they kissed, but backwash was entirely different.

"Gonna have fun with your mom today?" he asked, capping the carton and replacing it in the refrigerator.

"Mhm, that's the plan." She took a seat at the breakfast bar. Plucking a banana from the bunch in the fruit bowl, she began peeling it meticulously, suddenly keen to avoid his eyes.

"So what do you two ladies have planned for the afternoon?" Suddenly, she felt a pang of remorse.

The poor guy is trying. Lighten up a little! She put down the banana, seeking the gaze of her fiance.

"I think we're going to start at the mall and do a little bit of shopping, then get a mani-pedi, and end with a late lunch. Nothing fancy." Recalling the plans that she had made with her mom that past week had her heart stirring with excitement. Living two hours away, she didn't see her mother as often as she would have liked to.

"Ah, so chick stuff. Good thing you've got your mom for that."

And with that, her mood soured, much like the milk that still sitting at the bottom of Roy's cereal bowl would when he left it in the bottom of the sink without rinsing it out first.

Pam's head dropped. Scowling, she munched her banana in 4 bites before depositing the peel in the trash can and stealing off to gather her things.

"Hey babe, the guys are wantin' to do a poker thing tonight after the games. You'll be with your mom anyway right?"

She heard his booming voice from the kitchen as she texted her mom to confirm their plans to meet at the mall. Her eyes finding the ceiling was becoming about as bad of a habit as a smoker's mid morning cigarette.

"Fine. Have fun," she called back. She could sense the annoyance burning the back of her throat more than Roy could hear its presence. He simply called back, "Thanks babe! Love you! Have fun with you mom!" and left with the bang of the front door.


Jim had really enjoyed his time on the court. Although his buddies were complimenting him on putting his all into their three-on-three's, he knew deep down that he wasn't necessarily as "in it to win it" as they suspected. The endorphins kept him happy, and focusing on dribbling, passing, and sinking three's was keeping his focus off of Pam. He thought he had seen Roy entering the gym on his way out, but he could have been mistaken.

The scent of bleach and cleaning supplies did enough to cleanse his mind for awhile, and he didn't think he'd ever seen their house more spotless than since the day he and Mark had signed the move-in paperwork. He ate lunch, leftover pizza from the night before, and read through a few more chapters in his book before his cell phone buzzed with a new text message.

Tom: Hey little bro! Gonna have to cancel tonight. Came down with the flu. I'll make it up to you!

It was only 4 PM. That was at least 8 more hours until natural exhaustion would take over.

His heart was already palpitating with fear at the thought of having to fill those hours.

What was he going to do?


Spending time with her mom had been both a blessing and a curse.

While Pam was having a fun time trying on clothes, smelling all of the new scents at Yankee Candle, and making fun of all the new fashion trends (seriously-who decided chunky belts needed to go around the middle of your stomach all of a sudden?), the wedding talk was inevitable.

Luckily enough for Pam, her mother had waited until she was ankle deep in a footbath with literally no escape to bring up the subject.

"So, how are the wedding plans coming along, now that you and Roy have set a date?"

She avoided her mother's hopeful gaze, wishing desperately that she could pick at her nails that were newly manicured.

"Oh, you know, we're still talking things over."

"June really isn't that far away, Pammy. You two need to start getting serious about booking a venue! Isn't Roy helping out?"

Pam chewed at her bottom lip. Her parents loved Roy. After he had left her at that hockey game years ago, he made a huge declaration of regret on her parent's front lawn, vowing to always be there for her-and in her parent's eyes, he had done just that.

But they didn't see what went on behind the scenes. Or, rather, what Pam had just begun to notice was truly going on. She took a deep breath and decided to speak her truth.

"Honestly, mom? No, he really isn't. He picked the date, and now he thinks he's done." Suddenly, it was all flowing from her crackling heart like the mouth of a river. "Every time I bring up anything wedding related, he walks away, or he whines, or he changes the subject. He keeps telling me that whatever I pick is fine, but when I do choose something, he tells me he doesn't like it. Just the other day, I asked him if he wanted to go cake testing next weekend. He said he had plans with the guys and that all cake tastes the same. He doesn't even care! It's like he doesn't even want this wedding to happen, mom! What do I do?"

A few stray tears had fallen past her lashes while fresh ones brimmed, threatening to spill. Her mother was shocked, her expression small but worrisome.

"Oh, Pam, honey. It'll be okay. Weddings are stressful. You just need to sit down and talk with him. Roy loves you. I'm sure he's just stressed because you set a wedding on such short notice."

"Mom, we've been engaged for three years. How is that short notice?"

"Well." Helene Beesly was lost for words, grappling as her daughter begged for answers. "Sweetheart, Roy loves you. Trust me. You'll get through this."

At lunch, Pam felt the tension between her and her mother mounting. She longed for her mother to help her, to tell her what to do. But Helene had only left her with more questions. Did Roy truly love her? Were they jumping into this too quickly? Did they need to push the date back?

Did they need to call things off altogether and take a break?

She was sitting on her couch, eating leftover pizza from Cugino's, when her phone buzzed. It was 11:20 PM.

Roy: Gonna stay the night. Hitting up the college game tomorrow morning. See you for dinner! Love u

Closing out of her text messages, she clicked the phone option.

"Hey, Jim. I didn't wake you up, did I?"