Jim loosened his tie in a careless motion and hung it on the coat rack beside the door.  As he slipped off his shoes he could tell from the utter silence that Mark wasn't around - probably out with some non-mutual friends.  In all honesty, an empty apartment was fine by him this afternoon.  He really didn't want his housemate to catch him sulking with that introspective look in his eye again.  He always asked questions that Jim wasn't comfortable answering.

Finding himself in the unlit living room, Jim promptly fell backwards onto their couch, sinking into it with exhaustion more mental than physical.  He sat there a time, staring lazily, blankly, at the television even though it was off, realizing in some far away fashion that he was only putting off the inevitable.  He was like a rabbit running from a fox as omnipresent as God.  Sooner or later the dreaded thoughts would creep up out of his cerebral cortex and infect every cell with its melancholy.  They were already floating so close to the surface, lingering...

With the sensation of a cold fist clenching his chest, Jim eventually let out a heavy sigh and reached into his pants pocket.  His fingers grasped the folded piece of print paper like a delicate artifact as he slipped it out and held it in front of his face to observe.  At first he only frowned thoughtfully at it, as though begrudging it its existence, or like he was fighting a battle of wills with this inanimate object.  And in a way, he was.

When the urge became too strong Jim carefully undid the two folds and examined the contents for the first time since Pam had laid it on his desk that morning.

Don't break without me.  I need to tell you something.

A choked sound worked its way up his throat but never met the air.  Even though he'd played those limited words over and over in his mind like a high rotation pop song, it still stung to see them on paper.

She had snuck over to his desk only a few minutes after he arrived - her hands hidden behind her skirt, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.  Silently she bent over his knees to place the note on the keyboard, then eyed him again with that ambiguous smile, an expressive sparkle greeting him.  She shrugged innocently at his imploring look, widened her smile, then quickly went back to her reception desk.  Jim had watched all this wordlessly, a confused but encouraging smile separating his own lips.  Surely she was up to something, and he fully expected a note concerning Dwight.  Pam probably had a great but devious idea that couldn't safely be whispered aloud.

Jim looked her way for some indication as he opened the note, but she was already scrolling through something on the computer.  Her eyes flickered his way briefly before snapping back to the screen, and he scrunched his face in bemusement before finally reading what she had written in her neat, slanted font.

Don't break without me.  I need to tell you something.

Jim didn't realize that he'd been holding his breath until he inhaled deeply to revive himself.  Again he looked to Pam, but she was preoccupied with phone messages now and wouldn't meet his gaze no matter how much he urged her mentally.

He read the message over again and found it made his pulse race.  Why?  Why was he allowing himself to get this anxious over nothing?  ...What was probably nothing?  So he folded up the note once more and set it aside, trying to look busy as he clicked around on his monitor, unable to get back to work because his mind just wouldn't focus.  It only kept winding its way around those words, investigating every bit of syntax and nuance.  What else could she have meant?  Maybe this was simply all a ruse to drive him mad before noon.  If that was her intent, he had to admit it worked like a charm.

Just when he was able to subdue his thoughts behind the veil of sales notes and Microsoft graphs, Jim chanced a look at the clock and saw that it was 11:55.  For him, time stood still.  He looked at Pam with raised brows, hoping she'd reciprocate this time.  Indeed, she was eying him with a teasing smirk, and just as suddenly got up from her chair and headed over to him.

"Come on," she urged, and with a faint affirmative sound Jim stood and followed her into the farthest part of the break room.  They sat down at the table there, but Pam declined to speak first.  She just kept reminding him of her secret with that excited glow about her.

"Well?  You've been making me wait all morning; I wanna hear it," he insisted with a short chuckle.  His face became more intent as he awaited her response.  Maybe, just maybe...

"Okay," she began, and took a deep breath in preparation.  Jim couldn't help but lean forward an inch.  "You're going to think I'm crazy when I tell you, but hear me out.  ...  I think Dwight and Angela are an item."

Her words came like a blow.  First there was the initial disappointment, quickly grasping the fact that this had nothing to do with their nonexistent relationship.  It had nothing to do with them at all.  Then there was the swiftly proceeding dawn of comprehension.  Had he heard correctly through the buzzing in his ears?

"Dwight and... Angela?"  He affected his best smile, hiding the look of defeat.  "What on earth makes you think that?"  Pam hunched over the table to keep this gossip sacred, even if they were all alone in the room.

"Well I thought I was the first one in this morning, but on my way to the break room I heard a... commotion."  She glanced to the side at though replaying the scene in her head.  "I look and there they are behind the shelf, all nervous-looking, and Angela was fussing at her hair...  She said good morning but Dwight just had this... weird expression on his face."  She quirked a brow at him, full of suspicion.  "I'm telling you, something's going on between them.  You just wait."  Jim's heart was still racing from the words that never came, but thankfully these unfolding events were a decent distraction.  He felt himself slipping back into a relaxed disposition.

"You'll need some better proof than that if you ever hope to convince me," he told her.  "Or better yet, just forget it ever happened.  The thought of those two together...  Sorry, I can't continue."  He pretended to cough up a little in his closed fist.  Pam shrugged and peered at him threateningly.

"Fine, I'll just make sure to tell them that when they go public."  


Jim let the memory fade into time after that.  His hand had fallen to his lap - the note still held between his thumb and index finger.  He wondered, futile as it was, what it might have been like if her statement had been prompted by some other news.  A secret much more personal and intimate.  Not some conjecture or gossip, but the truth taken from the very core of her.  Well, then he wouldn't be sitting here alone staring longingly at some torn piece of paper.

Sighing, Jim folded it back up and returned the note to his pocket.  He knew he should just throw it away, but he couldn't.  Not yet.  He was holding on to the might have been's, and more simply, to something from her given to him.  Then a thought crossed his mind, and automatically Jim got up and entered his bedroom, sitting down in front of his open laptop.  A couple clicks and an mp3 began seeping through the speakers and permeating the room.  He had once listened to it whilst daydreaming of the love he couldn't have, and now he couldn't shake the connection.  He knew he was choosing to mope.  These lyrics would do nothing but weigh on his already heavy heart, but for now, while he was all alone, he was allowing himself a few dark thoughts.  His head fell into his open palms as he closed his eyes, soaking in the words and his own heartache, just for the next three minutes.  Yet somehow, he knew he would do it all over again tomorrow.

But if you sing
Sing, sing, sing, sing
For the love you bring won't mean a thing
Unless you sing
Sing, sing, sing ...