Step 6: Sometimes all you need to do

is separate

the 1 male and 1 female,

and they will still end up together

This warehouse day-trip was getting out of control. Michael had already managed to insult Darryl and his crew, force extra, yet irrelevant work upon them all, and tip over two industrial-sized warehouse shelves. But still: it was, all-in-all, a pretty average day.

Ryan yawned as he sat on a chair, balancing a full plate of pizza. He wasn't hungry, but Michael forced the food upon him, saying that they were "all coming together as one in the 'za". Whatever that meant. All he knew is that the day was almost over, and he wanted to go upstairs and get at least a little work done. He excused himself, dumped the uneaten pizza in a nearby trash can, and headed upstairs.

He was walking through the secluded hallway that led to the elevators when he heard a noise come from around the corner. Ryan froze, listening. It sounded like sniffling. Or...

"Pam?"

Ryan peeked around the corner and saw Pam sitting on a bench near the bathrooms. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes and an official-looking pamphlet clutched in her hand. She looked absolutely broken, and Ryan was suddenly embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm sorry Pam! I didn't mean to... I was just walking-"

"It's okay," Pam cut in quietly. She wiped a tear away with her sleeve and sniffed.

There was a silence, cut only by a few sniffles from Pam. Ryan was uncomfortable: should he stay or should he leave her alone to her crying? He thought it would be best if he left, because, well... he could think of a million reasons why he should. But part of him wanted to stay and comfort her; to sit down next to her and to hold her tight and say that everything was going to be okay now. A deep, dark, hidden part of him, that was.

Ryan stayed rooted in the spot.

Pam saw he was still there. "You don't have to stay, if you don't want." She pressed her lips together when she looked up at him, making her nose and eyes appear redder in appearance. She looked so sad and pathetic and small, Ryan knew it would be cruel to leave her like this.

"Pam, what's wrong?" Ryan asked quietly, walking around her and sitting next to her. The bench was small, and he could feel how warm her skin felt against his when he set himself down.

Pam meekly gestured to the pamphlet, but didn't say anything. Instead, her eyes screwed up, and a fresh bout of tears overcame her again. She leaned over and pressed her face against Ryan's shoulder and pulled out gut-wrenching sobs; wrapping both arms around his left one and squeezing tightly. She obviously needed someone to comfort her. Ryan stiffened, unsure at how to react to this new, vulnerable Pam. But after a minute of her muffled crying, Ryan relaxed. He slipped his arm out of her grasp and wrapped it around her shaking shoulders, rubbing her back in soothing motions. He hesitantly lay his cheek on top of her head, letting it rest lightly on her curly hair.

For a good five minutes, Ryan and her stayed like that. Nobody else passed through the hall, in which he was grateful for.

Pam finally calmed down and stopped crying. She sniffed slightly, pulling away from Ryan's shoulder and looking up into his blue eyes with her red, tear-filled ones. Ryan slowly pulled his arm off of her.

"I'm never going to become an artist, Ryan." she whispered.

Ryan looked down at her, feeling a little cold now that Pam wasn't pressed up so close against him anymore.

"Why not?"

She shook her head slightly, and focused her devastated eyes on his shirt, "I'm never gonna get out of this place and follow my dreams. I'm never gonna leave this damn town. I'll never get to experience the world because..." she hesitated.

"Because why?" Ryan whispered

Pam looked down at her shoes, her breathing a little shallow. "Roy's right. I have too many things going on and with the wedding coming up... taking these classes would be unrealistic." She fingered the pamphlet again, and Ryan suddenly understood.

"Obviously he's not right, or you wouldn't be in this hallway crying right now." Ryan pointed out, and Pam smirked humorlessly.

"Roy's telling me no. Jim's telling me yes, because I shouldn't want to be cooped up in this place forever. Both guys I care about, but both are applying the pressure. I don't know which one to listen to..." Pam looked up into Ryan's eyes, pleading. He was going to be included, apparently.

Ryan took a deep breath. "Pam, if art is something you really want to do, then do it. If you want it badly enough, you should do it on your own time. This isn't about Roy or Jim or pleasing anyone else: this is your dream. Do you think I asked my friends or girlfriend if I could go to business school? No, because owning a company is my dream. It's something I want to follow, and if the people I care about don't like it... well, they're not really my friends then, are they?"

Pam stared at him, and blinked. A smile slowly formed on her lips, and she was beaming at him, and Ryan suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.

"What?"

Pam still smiled at him, and hooked her arm through his. "Nothing. You're just absolutely right, that's all."

Ryan grinned before pulling her up and leading her back up through the office. Pam smiled again, following.

Was it that conversation Ryan would remember at the end of the day? When Pam opened up to him about how she was afraid that she would never leave Scranton and pursue her dreams? Would he remember when she hugged him for dear life as she was crying, and he hoped she would never let go? Yeah he would remember all those things. But the thing that would stay in his memory forever was what Pam said to him as they were walking towards the office from the elevators; her arm still hooked in his and her breath feeling warm on the back of his neck:

"You would take good care of me, Ryan. If only I were getting married to you."

Ryan was going to save that one. Just in case.

Step 6: Check