I tried to call Jim a number of times over the next day and a half, but he refused to pick up the phone. I left him twelve messages, but I didn't know if he was even listening to any of them. Knowing that his car was still in the Dunder Mifflin parking lot, I decided to leave home an hour and a half early on Monday, knowing Jim would need a ride in. I wanted to make sure I got to him before he had a chance to call a cab.

I arrived at his building and made my way up to the second floor, knocking on his apartment door. After a few minutes he opened the door only enough to see that it was me on the other side, immediately slamming it back in my face.

I had to put a stop to this. Knocking once more, I started yelling through the door, "Jim! Jim, I know you can hear me! I am SO sorry, Jim. I never meant to do anything that would cause problems for you. It kills me that I have, and I can't stand the thought of losing you." I paused, hoping he would answer. "Please, Jim. Please talk to me. I-" My voice cracked, partly from having to raise it to make sure he could hear me through the door, and partly from trying to keep myself from crying. I took a breath, trying to calm myself.

Before I could get another word out, Jim opened the door and immediately pulled me into a hug. Relief flooded through me, and I let out a single dry sob against his chest.

"What were you thinking, Pam?" He asked, one hand across my upper back, the other still hanging on to the open door's knob.

"I just wanted to help you, Jim. You're my best friend. I love you so much, and I want you to be happy. Dwight makes you happy. I mean, you guys are oddly perfect for each other."

"Perfect for…" He said under his breath, chuckling mirthlessly to himself. "You're right, he does make me happy, and being with him would be perfect. But you forgot one very important point." He pulled back slightly, shifting his hand to my shoulder. I pulled back too, looking up into his open face. "No matter how much I may want him, he's straight."

I pulled fully away from his contact, making my way past him and into his apartment. "No he's not."

"Yes, he is." He looked down at me as if he pitied me while he shut the door and leaned back against it.

"No, Jim, he's not. He wants you."

"What makes you say that?" He asked, as if humoring a delusional person.

"The way he looks at you, the way he acts around you…"

He began shaking his head at me. "Pam, no-"

"Jim, open your eyes and look at him sometime," I interrupted him.

"Oh, I have looked at him. Plenty, believe me."

"No, Jim-"

"Can we not talk about this, please?"

This conversation wasn't over, but I didn't want to make him mad, seeing as how he had just seemingly forgiven me. Instead I took in his appearance. He was wearing a white t-shirt and green flannel pajama pants, and his hair was obviously unbrushed from having slept on it. It was sticking up in the back in a way I thought Dwight would find cute. I certainly did. "What are you wearing? Aren't you coming to work today?"

"I don't really feel up facing the world right now." He walked past me and collapsed down on the couch, pulling the throw over his shoulders. I sat next to him.

"What happened in that closet?"

"Nothing happened. Were you actually expecting something to happen?"

The question was obviously a rhetorical one, so I didn't bother answering it. "Then why are you so upset?"

"How would you have felt? He looked so good, and he smelled so good, and he was so damn close." He looked at me, trying to convey how hard that had been for him. "You know, I think he had a panic attack when Peter first locked us in the closet. I was so scared for him. Seriously, there were a few minutes there where I would have been ready to rip your guys' head off for doing that to him."

"Wow, that's...really sweet, actually."

He looked at me, clearly not sharing the sentiment.

"So nothing happened?"

"Stop acting so shocked, Pam. No, nothing happened. He had a panic attack, we played some cards, I went to sleep," as he said that, I noticed a small blush color his cheeks, but decided to let that go for now. "Nothing happened."

"Then why this sudden urge to hide from him today?"

"Okay, so I MAY have had a dream about him…"

"What kind of dream?" He shot a glare at me. "Oh, I see. Well, we've worked with him for years, I'm sure you've had dreams about him before."

"Yeah, but never when he was in the room at the time."

"Oh. Oh! You don't think he knew, do you?"

"He did wake me up from it. He said it was a bad dream, so there must have been SOME indication that the dream involved a bit more than calmly meditating in a field of wildflowers."

I couldn't help but laugh at Jim's wording. "Well, maybe your breathing was just labored." When Jim didn't respond, I pat him on the back. "Come on, get dressed. You're coming into work today. I'll stop and get us some breakfast on the way, my treat."

Pam had talked me into going in to work. She was right, even if I took that day off, I would have to face him the next day. The only way to avoid him completely would be to quit, and though being around him would be somewhat painful for a while since I had finally figured out how I really felt about him, it was true that he did make me happy, and I would rather have him in my life as a coworker, possibly a friend, than not in my life at all.

Since we had left so early that morning, even after stopping at a drive through to pick up breakfast, Pam and I were the first to arrive. On my desk, I found the fireman's hat, jacket, and plastic ax still laying where I had left them on Friday. I grabbed them, along with my coat that was still hung on the coat rack near Pam's desk, and brought them down to my car so I wouldn't forget them on my way home at the end of the day. Of course, Michael was heading in the building as I was bringing them to my car, and he stopped me on my way.

"We all couldn't help but notice that you and Dwight disappeared halfway through the Halloween party. Meredith suggested that you guys had snuck off to hook up in a closet somewhere." Michael laughed at how ridiculous a suggestion that had been, but I froze. That was too shockingly close to what had actually happened, yet, sadly, so wide off from the mark that it was comical.

"Why would she say that?" I asked.

"I don't know, she and Phyllis were talking, something about your costume." He indicated down at the pieces of it in my arms. "Be careful, Jim."

Oh, God. Michael didn't know, did he? "About what?" I asked, trying not to sound guilty.

"You wear something like that again, and I think I know who'll be getting 'Sexiest in the Office' at the next Dundies."

I sighed in relief. Michael didn't know anything about my feelings for Dwight. I had taken one step back on my way to my car, when I stalled again. Thinking about what he had just said, I turned back to Michael. "Please, don't do that." It was scary, really, all the ways that Michael could be dangerous.

There was absolutely no awkwardness between Dwight and me when he got there, in fact, only Pam was on the receiving end of his foul mood that morning, and though I had forgiven her, it was nothing less than she deserved, so I enjoyed that fact a little.

She wasn't making it any better for herself in the way she kept catching my attention, and indicating toward Dwight. I know what she had said earlier about my need to pay more attention to Dwight, but that was the opposite of what I actually needed to do at the moment, so I tried to ignore her. That didn't stop her from trying all day. By the end of the day, it was obvious that Dwight had begun to notice Pam's behavior, and was becoming increasingly paranoid about it.

I had said goodbye to Pam as she left, and turned to go back into the annex, needing to go over some forms with Kelly in customer service. Of course, what should have been a two minute business conversation with Kelly had turned into a ten minute lecture about something Perez Hilton had said about what J-Lo had worn to some award show. I tried to get away by slowly backing out toward the main room, but she followed me. Everyone else had gone home. Kelly and I walked toward the coat rack, putting our coats on. When she finally stopped to take a breath, I took the blessed opening and ran with it. "I agree with you completely, but I just remembered I have a call to make. I'll see you tomorrow."

I sat down in my chair, but she still seemed to be hovering by the door, so I picked up the receiver and called the local movie theater, thankful that I still had the number memorized from back when I had worked there in high school. They now had an automated answering service that listed the movies and times.

*Welcome to Marquee Cinemas –Steamtown 8. Press one for—*

I quickly pressed one. "Hello, Mr. Schnidermann. Thank you for letting me get back to you so late, now about your order..." Finally, Kelly had left the office. I hung up the phone and sat back in my chair, enjoying the rare moment alone in the quiet office, and looking over at Dwight's empty chair. I was going to give Kelly at least another two minutes to get to her car before I even THOUGHT about leaving the office. When I thought that the coast was clear I got up, hit the lights, and left.

I had turned to shut the office door when a voice behind me startled me.

"So you and Pam were acting mighty chummy today." I turned quickly and jumped, finding Dwight looming further down the hall which lead to the elevators.

"Oh, God. You scared me, Dwight." I collapsed back into the door I had just closed, clutching at my chest and trying to catch my breath.

"Seems a bit weird to me, seeing as how she was an accessory to your kidnapping not three days ago." He had begun walking toward me in a predatory way, which I tried to find intimidating rather than sexy.

"Uh, yeah. Well, she apologized, so..."

"Why did she do it?" He had stopped a few feet away from me, between me an the path to the elevators.

"Who knows what goes on in that head of hers?"

I began making my way down the hall, but as I passed near him he stopped me, a hand firmly pressing into my chest, not only forcing me to stop but actually pushing me backward a few inches. I had to take a couple of steps backward to compensate. "I know you know why she did it, Jim," he growled my name, which I would have to add to the list of things I absolutely should find intimidating rather than sexy.

I sighed, looking down at my shoes. "She was playing a prank on us, Dwight."

"Since when does she play pranks on you?"

"She always plays pranks on me," I tried to explain. It was true; she was always pranking me, though this was not one of those times. "That's what you do to friends." I looked up at the word, trying to gauge his reaction to the implied suggestion that he and I were friends.

He did seem a bit surprised, and looked down himself to think that one over. I used that as my cue to leave. But I hadn't even made it two steps when he pushed me back again, harder this time. "Damn it, Jim. I know there's more to it than that. What is it?"

"Go home, Dwight." I tried to walk past him again, and again he pushed me back, hard enough this time that my back hit the door behind me.

"Why won't you tell me? Why did she lock us up?"

I took a step forward, stopping right in front of him. I was starting to get mad.

"You want to know why, Dwight? She locked you in there with me because I've fallen for you. She stupidly thought that if she locked us in a closet with chocolate and alcohol and condoms, I would confess everything, and the power of my attraction would turn you to putty in my hands."

For one second, the longest second in my life, he didn't respond. I couldn't move, I couldn't even breathe. Finally, he stepped as close to me as he could get, his face mere inches from mine, and pushed me back into the door again, saying, "Very funny, Jim. Why did she really-"

But he never got to finish his sentence. I didn't let him. I don't know why I did it.

Actually, I know exactly why. I had been fantasizing about it since Pam had introduced the thought in my head (though if I was honest with myself, I had entertained the notion a few times in the last few years). What I mean is I don't know what pushed me over the edge to finally act on what had been consuming my waking thoughts, and my nightly dreams, for weeks now. Perhaps it was his physical closeness; perhaps it was the intensity of his eyes. Whatever it was, I found myself reaching out, grabbing him by the tie, closing the already short distance between us. Pulling his body into mine, I sought out his mouth, lips pressing against gaping lips. Wet and warm, I kissed those unresponsive lips. Pressing our firm bodies against each other, I tried to communicate everything I felt through every movement of my body against his. I slowly ran my tongue just inside his lips, which were parted in shock.

He didn't move; arms hovering in midair where they had been just before I had grabbed him. He didn't kiss me back, but he didn't push me away, either. Heartened, I sucked his lower lip between mine, giving it a small nibble before pulling back to look him in the eye. He did not respond, only stood there as if in suspended animation, eyes as unresponsive as his lips. It was as I looked down at those lips, reddened from my assault that what I had just done finally caught up with me.

Horrified, I pushed him away from myself enough that I could get out from between him and the door.

"I'm so sorry," I said in shame, before turning tail and running down the hall as fast as I could go.

He kissed me. I couldn't believe it. It was so outside the realm of what I would have ever expected, it had short circuited my brain. It was a few seconds before something finally popped a fuse, and I was able to do something other than stand upright and breathe. I reached up a hand, bewilderedly touching my lips, before finally springing into action.

"Wait," when I was finally capable of voluntary action, I followed him down the hall, and to the corridor that held the elevators, where he was waiting, pressing the down button repeatedly and saying "Come on, come on, come on."

"Jim!"

"Oh, God," he sounded panicked, spinning in his spot and instead pushing through the door into the stairwell. In the time that it took me to cross the corridor and followed him through the door, he was already out of sight.

I could hear him making his way downward through the echoes bouncing around me. "Wait, Jim." His footfalls didn't slow, so I increased my speed, finally catching up to him on the bottom floor.

"Wait," Finally catching up to him, I grabbed his elbow, forcing him to turn and face me.

"Go away, Dwight." He barely looked at me before turning back around to flee again.

Now that I caught up with him, I wasn't about to let go. My grip tightened on his elbow. "Damn it, Jim!"

He stopped, dropping his head in defeat, and slowly started to turn back toward me. It wasn't fast enough for me. I spun him to face me, again pushing him against the wall at the base of the stairs, and holding him there with my own body. Only giving myself time to register the shock on his face, I reach up a hand behind his neck, pulling his face down to mine and kissing him like I should have done up in the hall outside the office when he had kissed me, like I should have done down in the closet when I had had to force myself to look away from his body in that damn firemen's costume, like I should have done the first time he played a prank on me, and his grin afterward made it feel like the floor had just given way underneath me, like I should have done years ago when I first met him and decided only days later that sharing a desk clump with him was one of the best parts about my job.

The End

A/N: Thank you to all who have reviewed. This story is dedicated to each and every one of you.

And can I just say? No more writing in the first person perspective for me! This has been such a bother!