[Expletive Deleted] Jim! by Alex Wert
Summary:

Karen has her heart broken by Jim and then... KaPAM!

We interrupt our regularly scheduled chapter to bring you gratuitous smut and cheap laughs.


Categories: Other, Present Characters: Jim, Karen, Pam
Genres: Angst, Romance, Slash
Warnings: Adult language, Mild sexual content
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 5 Completed: No Word count: 9954 Read: 5671 Published: February 17, 2007 Updated: July 08, 2007
Story Notes:

As one of the very few men who follow this fandom, I am truly astounded by the number of (nominally straight) women who are obsessed about this 'ship. I don't understand it, I don't pretend to understand it, but I believe I speak on behalf of all the guys when I say "Niiiiiice". Keep up the good work, ladies.

1. FU Jim Halpert! by Alex Wert

2. Uncomfortable Questions by Alex Wert

3. I Don't Know What I'm Doing by Alex Wert

4. Hard at Work (TWSS) by Alex Wert

5. Talking Smack by Alex Wert

FU Jim Halpert! by Alex Wert
Author's Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Pam tried to concentrate on her FreeCell, despite the tiff going on behind her that was rapidly escalating into an argument (maybe even a mêlée). She always cringed whenever the two of them erupted into a fight - she couldn't even take sides, she felt so awful for both of them. It was a real struggle to keep her eyes on the computer monitor when Karen went storming past the reception desk on the verge of tears. Pam didn't have to feign discretion for long though, because, before she even reached the door, Karen turned and marched right up to her, practically spitting at her with rage, "I've had it! If you want him, you can have the bastard!" She was flushed deep red in anger, no mean feat considering her dusky complexion. She gave Jim one final death glare before turning on her heel and leaving.

Pam looked to Jim for his response, expecting anger or sadness or maybe frustration. He was always so good at communicating with his eyes, she almost assumed that when she gazed into them she would be able to read his explanation and feel his remorse. Instead she stared at Jim, seeing his face no concern at all that Karen was running away in tears. She did see something she had no trouble interpreting: he did that little apathetic shrug/smirk of his. She'd never felt so sick to her stomach.

"Karen, wait," Pam pleaded, running out the door after her while fixing Jim with an angry glower of her own.

She caught up to Karen in the stairwell, leaning over the railing, sobbing quietly to herself. Pam slowed her furiously pounding feet as she closed distance on the broken-hearted woman. Karen didn't acknowledge her arrival, but Pam held her around the shoulders anyway, feeling the sobs shudder through her hands (and the raging heat radiating from her body). When Pam softly spoke, it was just as much to herself as it was to Karen. "I've never seen him be so callous before. I can't believe he could be so insensitive... He's being an ass."

At that, Karen let out a bark, or was it a laugh? Probably not a bark (it had been a long time since Pam had thought of her like that). "Why are you here?" Karen asked, scoffing, "Why aren't you in there with him finally requiting that big unrequited love of yours?"

Pam gave her a hug. "I told you, he's being an ass. And you could use a friend right now." She coughed a little to herself as Karen choked out another labored breath, whispering, "I've spent a little too much time crying in this stairwell myself, and it made all the difference when I had someone there to help me through it."

Karen looked at her with her red-rimmed eyes and smiled. "Thanks. You're a good friend, Pam. You've always been a good friend." Karen held her too, but chuckled to herself. "When you all finally clued me in to the, uh... situation... I couldn't for the life of me figure out why, though. I think the guys were expecting more catfight."

"They're probably disappointed. We would make good TV." She playfully clawed at Karen's shoulder a bit.

"Yeah, but why no mrrreowww?..." she mirrored Pam's lame scratch.

It's difficult to shrug while hugging someone, Pam discovered. "Just because the same guy is making us both miserable doesn't mean we have to be enemies."

"I guess."

The enemies thing reminded Pam of something that, at the time had been horrible and painful, but now just made her grin. She thought that sharing this piece of nostalgia might cheer Karen up a bit. "Actually, when I first met you I wanted to stab you in the neck with my Pilot® Dr. Grip® ballpoint pen."

"That's awfully specific of you."

"Well, it's thicker than your average pen, so I thought it would hurt more."

Karen sniffed, wiping the tears from her cheeks and smudging her already ruined makeup some more. "Very meticulous planning. You think of everything. So thoughtful..."

"I try."

Pam just held her like this for a while, a few minutes really, and slowly felt Karen sink into her embrace. Her tears dried up, maybe sooner, maybe later - neither had been keeping time - her weeping replaced with a tranquil sorrow.

"I'm not usually like this, you know," Karen finally said. "I don't want you to think that I'm the kind of gal who'll just start bawling over every little thing."

"I know. You're so strong. It's just... this isn't a small thing. Lord, how I know."

"Yeah." Karen found Pam's hand wrapped around her shoulder, and covered it tenderly with her own.

"You've just been so miserable all the time," whispered Pam.

"Not all the time..." Karen replied, her voice equally low.

"Well, most of the time. When I've seen you with other people. With Jim. I can't bear to see you frown anymore." Just the thought of it made Pam frown herself. "I hardly ever see you smile. I just want to see you smile..."

"I smile when I'm with you."

"Yeah," Pam smiled, reminiscing of girl talk, pranks, and Christmas parties past. "We've had some fun... despite the tension, haven't we, Karen? Though sometimes I do wish I had stabbed you with my pen."

"Bitch."

"Right back at ya."

Karen's eyes became unfocused, a thousand-yard stare down the stairwell. "I can't go back in there. Not today. If I do, there's no accounting for what I might do. I mean it, Pam - I could stab him with your pen, or stab me with your pen for that matter. Or Michael, just because he's pissing me off."

"I think we've all wanted to do that at some point, but I hear you. What do you want to do now?"

She pondered for a bit, scrunching up her freckled nose. "I'm thinking of going home and getting wasted."

Pam giggled. "As far as plans go, I've heard better. I've also heard much worse. Let's do it!"

"You're coming too?" asked Karen.

"Yup. You need me right now and, quite frankly I'm feeling a little stabby myself at the moment. You sure you're up for it though? Drinking at 9 AM on a Tuesday morning could certify us for AA. And how well stocked are you, anyway?"

"Dregs of several bottles. Most of it cheap."

Pam frowned. "Doesn't sound very good."

"You'll drink it and you'll like it. My misery, my rules."

It really didn't sound like a very good idea to go back to Karen's apartment to drink cheap, leftover booze. Granted, Karen's apartment was nicer than her own, but it was also contaminated through and through with Jim's presence (and Pam was pretty sure that the two of them had done it there), not to mention it was only two blocks away from Jim's place. It would be too close with too many reminders. There was no way for that to end well. So Pam extended an invitation. "Hey, come back to my place instead. I have some good stuff." And the place is virtually Jim-free, she added under her breath.

"Good stuff?"

"I have an unopened bottle of Sour Puss," she admitted.

"Man, that's a girly drink."

"In case you haven't noticed, I am a girl, and so are you."

"You got anything else?" said Karen, rolling her eyes at her.

"Dregs of several bottles. Most of it cheap," Pam replied, smirking.

Karen grinned at that, which lifted Pam's spirits. "Fine. Let go of me so we can get out of here." Pam grudgingly obliged, giving her a fearsome pout.

"Wait," Karen interjected, stopping Pam by the arm as she tried to walk by. "My purse and jacket and things are still at my desk. We can't even drive away like that." She looked to the floor. "I can't go back in there right now," she murmured sullenly.

Pam considered for a moment (a long moment), trying to figure out what to do (with Karen still holding her arm). "I could... no, wait. I'll phone Toby, have him bring our stuff out." She trundled down the stairs with Karen in tow to call from Tate's phone in the 'lobby'. A quick chat followed, Karen fidgeting throughout, but Pam quickly wrapped up the call to give her a happy grin. "He's on his way down. See, I told you: good old reliable Toby. He's like that sweet older brother, he just never really aspires to anything."

"Tell your sweet older brother to hurry up, because I'm still sober."

"Can you be any more impatient?"

"Yes."

But Toby was swift after all, and no sooner had Karen resumed her fidgeting, the elevator chimed and he emerged carrying purses and jackets in his arms. Somehow Pam had the frightening thought that if she had asked Dwight instead of Toby, he'd be carrying the purses over his shoulder, seriously flaming but completely oblivious to it (had anyone filled Karen in on the details of that particular day?). Working here had warped her brain.

"I'll handle things with Michael, make up a plausible excuse for you," he said as he handed over his cargo. "No questions asked."

"Thanks, Toby."

He looked between the two women; sad, soulful face softening as he took in their bleary eyes and spoiled makeup. "Will you be okay? I'm here for you, if you need me."

"We'll be fine... eventually. You've already done enough."

"Any time," he replied, lingering briefly before heading back up to the office.

***

They belted out tunes along with the All American Rejects on the drive home. Pam was driving her little Toyota; she knew that it was unsafe to drive when you were angry - both from the news and firsthand experience, sadly. Karen was angry. So Pam had her recline in the passenger's seat, hollering lyrics about breakups at the top of her lungs. She found it endearing the way Karen could stay so affable and raucous even when she was obviously crushed (her grip on the hand-hold was turning her knuckles white and the plastic looked uncomfortable with the situation, if such a thing were possible).

Pam was plenty happy when they finally arrived at her crappy apartment and spilled out into the parking lot (she just got this car and didn't want the interior damaged). Karen was still crooning away even with the car stopped and the radio turned off as she glumly extricated herself out the Yaris' undersized door. "Geez," Pam said, leading her friend to her building, "you're not supposed to keep singing until after you're drunk."

"I know that," Karen scoffed. "I just thought the bastard could use a theme song. I'm used to putting a lot of effort into things. I'm just tired of putting effort into something that can't possibly work. So now I'm putting effort into singing crappy songs off key."

"It's not that crappy. Or off key for that matter." Pam opened the door. "Come on in, make yourself comfortable. There's really only one place to sit," she said, meaning the couch in front of the TV," so have yourself a seat and I'll break open that bottle-"

"Chick drink!"

"Quiet, you!" Karen was such a goof; she couldn't let a joke go. Just like Jim, really. Pam had really missed being able to just be silly and childish with someone, to relax and be free. For a while it almost seemed like she could have two people to be with in that way, but then it had just gotten weird and strained and uncomfortable, and every rare time she got to make a joke or pull a prank or just laugh with either of them, she would feel guilty seconds later for damaging their relationship, or be given the cold shoulder for the rest of the day by the forsaken party. She was tired of feeling that way, but she was worried about the awkwardness that would undoubtedly follow this incident.

But that was a concern for another time. Now Pam was simply glad to have her friend back, and troubled only with making her feel better. She unscrewed the cap of the Sour Puss, returning with the bottle and two small glasses that she set down on the coffee table in front of Karen. "Don't start without me. I'm going to change into something more comfortable."

"Oooh, kinky."

Pam glared at her, tried to think of something to say but came up empty after an embarrassingly long time standing there not doing anything, then retreated into her bedroom to exchange her work skirt, oxford shirt, cardigan and stockings for jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. No wait, she thought, scratch the sweatshirt, go for a sweater. When she returned, Karen had already downed a glass and was working on a second. "It's good to see that you know how to follow instructions," she deadpanned, accepting the proffered beverage.

Pam was a well-known lightweight. Karen, despite her small size, could slam back the liquor like that chick in the Indiana Jones movie. Well, at least this morning she was trying to. The Sour Puss didn't last long.

"It's 10:30 in the morning, and I'm fucking HAMMERED!" yelled Karen, and it was a good thing it was 10:30 in the morning on a Tuesday or else that mighty shout would have generated noise complaints.

"It's a good day," Pam agreed, swirling around a tumbler (She owned tumblers? Who knew? Must have been something of Roy's that she accidentally packed...) of some unidentified liquid.

"Are you out of your mind? It's a shitty day. But at least we're drunk."

She couldn't argue with that. "I'd like to propose a toast: Fuck you, Jim Halpert!"

"Fuck men! Well, you know what I mean." Even drunk and miserable she was a hoot and a half. They simultaneously downed their glasses of whatever the hell it was and slouched back into the softness of the couch. The brave front didn't last long, and Karen quickly fell into melancholy. It was painful for Pam to hear about all the great things about being with Jim that Karen had given up, but she tried to be supporting and comforting.

"You know, I'll miss the childish goofiness the most," she said, sadly.

"Hey, I can pick up that slack."

"And the semi-regular sex."

Pam's eyes flew open. "You're on your own there." Karen smirked at her, suggestively.

Pam could see just how much Karen and Jim were alike. Maybe that contributed to it not working out between them - they were just too similar to get along long term. They thought with exactly the same brain. They got each other the same Christmas present, for Chrissakes. If you ignored the height difference you could almost figure that Karen was the female version of Jim. Which might explain why Pam liked her so much.

She felt Karen's hand on her thigh, and realized that the similarities may well work both ways. The idea made her strangely elated. She found herself falling into those two-toned eyes. So pretty... I can't look away... Her too-tight shirt wasn't helping. Pam could tell that the melancholy was now fake as Karen assailed her with a steely expression and said, "You know, I have you to blame for this."

"Well, I have you to blame for this!" Pam shot back.

"Bitch."

"Slut."

"Whore!"

"Hussy!"

"Skank!!"

"Hoochie!!"

"Jezebel!!!"

"Tramp!!!"

"Cow!!!!"

Pam paused, befuddled. "I think I've run out of catty insults."

"Well, I've got a few more... hooker, floozy, harpy, harlot, bimbo, shrew, cu-" Karen collapsed, laughing as Pam slapped her hand over Karen's her mouth to try to stop her derogatory rant. Not that it really helped. The muffled yelps and insults continued. In their giggly fit, they had fallen to the floor, wedged awkwardly between the couch and the coffee table. It was uncomfortable but not at all unpleasant to Pam. Maybe it was the alcohol, or just the feel of a nice, warm body next to (underneath, intertwined with) hers after so many long months, but Karen felt it too (if the giddy smile she wore was any indication) so that last one couldn't be it. Booze then. Definitely the booze.

Karen was still trying to talk through Pam's hand, though really she should have removed it by now, shouldn't she have? Nah. She liked being able to have the last word, and told her so. But then Karen got a devilish little gleam in her eye, like she was scheming something - something evil.

Karen licked the inside of Pam's palm.

And not just a little lap, but a sloppy, slobbery lick that traveled the entire length of her heart line. She shrieked and pulled her hand away like it had been touched by a blowtorch (the flamey bit) and stared agape into Karen's mischievous eyes.

"Oh, you didn't just do that." Was it so wrong that she was so turned on by that? "You're disgusting!" But Karen found her hand again, cradled into her body as it was, and exposed it once more to her mouth, first softly kissing her wrist then moving up to her palm, her fingertips, sucking on them gently. Pam's heart went aflutter as Karen's velvety lips tickled her sensitive skin.

"Ahem... I mean, uh... what are you doing?" Well that was a dumb question. It was obvious what she was doing. The real questions were 'why?' and 'what next?'

Karen answered lazily as she dragged her kisses over the side of Pam's hand. "Do [kiss] you [kiss] want [kiss] me [kiss] to [kiss] stop?" Kiss, kiss, kiss.

"Oh God, no!"

She knows she shouldn't. She knows this is the worst timing ever. She knows that if she acts upon her feelings she will jeopardize their carefully nurtured friendship. That's not going to stop her though.

Pam had never before kissed someone shorter than herself. It was a novel feeling - at least for now...
Uncomfortable Questions by Alex Wert
Author's Notes:
I still have no idea where I'm taking this but I'm writing it anyway.  I've included footnotes at the bottom for things I felt needed further explanation.

She shouldn't be enjoying this as much as she is, especially now that the alcohol buzz (and its associated freedom from rational thought) have started to wear off. But nevertheless the contentment has saturated through her - despite the suffering of the past year, the frustration of the past couple of months, the anger of this morning, and the hangover of just this second. She feels the woman curled up in her arms, her heat and the softness of her, shift her weight slightly, almost impreceptibly, and she gives a soft sigh.

"Pam?" Karen whispers.

"Hmmmm?" she replies, not wanting to put too much effort into any action at the moment, but pleasantly anticipating Karen's words. She'd found herself really taking a liking to this woman she had once wanted to stab with a pen. She was smart and funny and easy to get along with, and if Karen wanted more, she would be happy to give it.

"Can you move a little? Your zipper is digging into my ass."

Okay... So not quite what Pam was expecting (or hoped - the devil on her shoulder made great pains to remind her) but she complied, wiggling her hips a bit away from (and against - oops!) the aforementioned ass, and felt the offending metal tab click down against the zipper teeth.

"Better?" she asked.

"Much," replied Karen, to which her devil (who in Pam's mind looked scarily like Dwight) snickered. Pam took the opportunity to snuggle Karen tighter beneath the covers, and Karen didn't complain. Somehow, after the alcohol induced indescrecions of the morning, they had found themselves spooning in Pam's bed, Pam cuddling Karen from behind. Pam's foggy brain recalled with some difficulty that they had decided on that arrangement due to two factors: 1) Karen needed to be held, and 2) if they spooned the other way, Karen would choke to death on Pam's hair. So this way was better for everyone. Why they were spooning in Pam's bed she didn't know. Neither did she know what, if anything, the kiss(es?) they had shared that morning had meant - and that really bothered her. She wanted it to mean something. She didn't know why she wanted this, and definitely didn't want to think about what that meant about her, or what Karen had been through, but she greedily wanted this to be more than just drunken kissing, comforting a hurt friend. Her devil was sitting with his little feet dangling over her bicep. Her poor little angel was smushed into the mattress below. We have a winner.

She wondered how much longer she would be able to just stay like this, wrapped up in a little cocoon of contentment. They had both dozed off sometime ago, there was work tomorrow, faces to be made presentable again, and who knows how much the alcohol had warped their sense of time? Not moving was nice, but the question would fester in her brain if she didn't know the answer. She grudgingly made her voice work again.

"What time is it?" she asked.

Karen grumbled something incoherent into the pillow.

"Hmmm?"

"I said 'look at the clock yourself, lazy ass'," Karen teased, grumpy but not really grumpy. "I drank more than you so I'm not gonna use my eyes again until tomorrow."

"But I can't see through your head. All you have to do is open your eyelids. I have to lift my neck all the way up so I can see around you. You wouldn't make me expend all that energy and risk inflicting severe neck trauma on myself, would you?"

"Yes."

"Please."

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No."

"Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"4:30. PM."

"So what do we do now?"

Karen grumbled something mostly incoherent about sleeping off this hangover.

"That's a gimme," Pam said. The only thing that kept her from rolling her eyes was that they were closed. "I meant after that. And don't fake dozing off on me, because I know you're wide awake." She felt Karen giggle in her arms.

"We steal Michael's Sebring and hit the road as a pair of exotic jewel-thieves?1" suggested Karen, lighting up with excitement at the prospect. Such a joker.

"If we're stealing exotic jewels, what would we need with a crappy Sebring?"

"You're right," Karen concurred. "We should steal a fancy German car. No domestic P.O.S.es for us! Or we could just buy a Mercedes with all the money we make from selling the jewels."

"Maybe we're only stealing mundane jewels and we're the exotic ones."

"Stop messing around with my inflection."

"Besides, you're the only exotic one here. My father wasn't a G.I. like yours."

"That's it. You're going down, Beesly."

"That's what she said."

Pam never got an honest answer before they flitted off to sleep again.

***

When Pam awoke again it was dark, very late, or very early depending on how you looked at it. As much as it pained her to do so, she felt she had to wake Karen up. She just looked so peaceful and innocent in the pale moonlight, and Pam saw her face softened for what may very well have been the first time in months. She was glad to see Karen without the granite façade that she had built up around her during this time of adversity. Watching her come around at ease only to slip it back into place would be upsetting, to say the least. Still, she had to; Karen would definitely not want to have to show up to work in the morning wearing the same clothes as the previous day and reeking of booze or dressed up in Pam's clothes (that would be awkward, especially around Andy... or Michael... or Kevin... or Kelly... or Jim...).

"Hey," she whispered softly into Karen's ear as she gently shook her shoulder. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

"Just five more minutes, mom."

"Ha ha. But seriously, rise and shine, Karen."

Karen grumbled some more. She had the cutest little grumble, which was why Pam kept trying to ellicit that response from her. "It's still dark outside," she complained, able to tell even through her closed eyelids.

"I know. I just thought you'd like to go home and get cleaned up before we headed into work."

"We?"

"You don't have a car here, remember?2 How's that head of yours?"

Karen groaned, finally sitting up. That wasn't so cute. Earsplitting would be more accurate. "It feels like I got hit by a bus. Everything hurts. My hair hurts. If I had a gun right now I'd shoot myself in the head."

"At least you haven't thrown up."

"Yet. I'm not usually a heavy drinker - haven't drank so much since my twenty-first birthday. Didn't make it to the bar that night either," Karen explained as the two of them stumbled their way to the kitchenette. "I try to avoid hard liquor. Usually with hard liquor and me, bad things happen."

"Oh," was all Pam could manage to say. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Did that mean Karen considered this a bad thing? Now that she was sober, was she regretting what they had done? Did she even remember?

"At least this time I had you taking care of me instead of my college buddies trying to roll me down a hill."3

Oooookaaayyyyy.... "I'm afraid to ask. So I won't. Coffee?"

"Yes, thank God," moaned Karen, in a way that probably hadn't been intended to cause that effect on Pam, but did so anyway.

"No, just me, but thanks for the compliment."

Pam swallowed her anxious heart and set her little-used coffeemaker to percolate.

"Do you want to know why I broke up with him?" Karen's question caught her a little off guard. She hadn't wanted them to talk about this right now, or any time soon... or ever. Including Jim always complicated things, and she wasn't sure she could take any more of that.

"Not really," Pam replied, with some trepidation. She fidgetted with her cup in an attempt to conceal her discomfort.

Not that Karen would let that stop her, of course. "I really think you need to hear this though. I don't want there to be some big future blow up if you find out some other way and I never told you."

"So what was it?" she asked nervously, thinking she already knew the answer (or at least the gist of it).

Karen gave her a sullen grin, and it wasn't the kind that made her heart go aflutter. "I wasn't exaggerating when I said that I had you to blame for this. He moaned your name while we were making love last ni - I guess two nights ago, now."

"Oh." The silence wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. It hadn't set her mind spinning like that first time. Her judgement hadn't become clouded and her emotions hadn't run rampant. There was only quiet, but Karen didn't let that last long.

"You should really go for him," she said, forlornly. "He loves you. He's obsessed about you. He's a great guy and I want you to have your chance with him."

"What if I don't want to?"

"You... don't?" said Karen, hesitantly. When Pam finally turned to face her, she could see the confusion and the disbelief in the other woman's eyes. Karen had expressive eyes, too.

"I don't."

"You're kidding, right? Serious?"

"Serious."

Karen stumbled to sit down on the couch, clearly shocked. "Huh..." Pam thought the stunned look on her was absolutely adorable. "Why don't you? You're crazy."

Pam sighed as she joined Karen on the couch. "Yeah, I'm beginning to think so too. If someone had given me the opportunity last summer, or last week, or even yesterday I would have. God, I would have in a heartbeat. He was indirectly responsible for my non-wedding, you know. As direct as he could be without being directly responsible. And since then I've been pining for him and chasing him. I know that he loves me, and I remember all the fun we had. I wanted that. I wanted it all."

"Doesn't sound like the words of someone who's not interested. What happened?"

"I realized what I was longing for was an ideal, an abstract Jim who didn't really exist. The truth is that he put me in an impossible situation. Then he gave up on me. He's been cold to me - when he ran away and more recently since he's been back. He hasn't been fair with me. He hasn't been fair with you. This morning, when I saw how badly he mistreated you, something just snapped. All of a sudden he's become more real to me, like he's in hard focus or HD or something and I can see all the imperfections. And for probably the first time I'm having misgivings - I mean serious doubts."

"Anxiety comes with the territory, Pam. Doesn't mean you shouldn't give him a chance."

"I know. But I've found something... someone else who I want to give a chance first."

Karen's eyes widened in shock. "You don't mean me, do you?!" But the grin that spread across her face betrayed her delight at the idea.

"Yeah, I mean you, silly!" she said as she wrapped her arms around Karen. "I know it'll be a little weird. It's not like I've ever, you know... felt like this with a..."

"Me neither... not really..."

"But we just connect so well with each other. I never thought I could meet someone who completes me like you do. It's like I was meant to know you. Even though we've barely spoken in the past month, it's like I've known you forever."

Suddenly Karen pulled away from her, and Pam found herself missing the feel of her body in her arms.

"Pam, I can't let you do this," said Karen - and Pam's heart broke a little.

"What? Why? Is it -"

"No, it's not that. Well, maybe a little, but not really. Pam, I have a confession to make." Karen took a deep breath to steel herself (Pam braced for the worst, not knowing what it could be). "I was jealous about what the two of you had. I'm not totally blind. As much as I tried to deny it, I always saw something there between you. When I learned that Jim had feelings for you... Pam, I've been trying to sabotage your friendship with Jim. Trying to turn him against you. For the past month. I'm sorry."

Pam's entire world came crashing down (of course, she was getting used to it by now). That admission was devastating. If she hadn't already been sitting down she would have fallen. As it was, she was at a loss for words.

Karen let a single tear fall as well. 'I don't deserve you,' Pam thought she heard Karen whisper. "I've got to go. Excuse me."

Pam heard the door click shut, but she wasn't really paying attention. She slumped against her couch, lost in turbulent thought...

End Notes:

1: If there's one thing I've learned as a grad student, it's that it's not plagiarizing if you reference it properly (okay, for most things it is, but it's the lifeblood of academic papers). This line is stolen from HalloweenJack138 reviewing part 1 here: http://www.fanfiction.net/r/3398922/0/1/

2: I didn't remember until I realized that my ending left me awfully flummoxed. I had to go back and add this line so that no one would get to the end and come complaining to me that Karen just stormed out without a car. She still does storm out without a car, but at least this way you know that I know that she doesn't have a car. Unless she steals one. Hopefully an import.

3: This was a popular past-time for the students living in residences at the university where I did my undergrad. I was spared this particular adventure due to the virtue of only getting really, really drunk once, and being at the bottom of a valley at the time.

I Don't Know What I'm Doing by Alex Wert
Author's Notes:

Now with more nudity!

You know, I had originally intended this to be fluffy and silly. Instead I get angst and a lot of introverted suffering. My, it's a happy world that I live in.

I saw somewhere that people were complaining about the overuse of the 5 things meme and lamenting how forced the more recent Pam/Karen was turning out, and now I feel bad because that's what I've been writing. Doesn't mean I'm going to stop though. (I'd also like to think my 5 things fics are insane enough to stand above the crowd).

By the time Pam came back to her senses, Karen was long gone. She drove up and down her street in a frantic search for her, but gave up when she reached the nearest corners without a sighting. The brief drive back to her tiny apartment was grim and punctuated by her self-flagellation (not literal, of course - more of a mental/verbal berating expousing her stupidity, which was something she had been doing a lot of over the past year, but this was by far the second biggest concentration of fuckupedness during that time). Either way, she was in a real shitty mood as she finally stripped off the clothes she had been wearing since yesterday morning and took an overly hot shower.

It's amazing how your mood can go from elated-on-top-of-the-world to crappiest-day-ever in one sentence. Well, maybe not ever, but if Kelly can exaggerate every little thing into an event of epic proportions, why not Pam?

The scalding spray of water had turned her skin a lobstery red. It felt good to suffer the pain of it. Sometimes you just have to feed a bad mood. She wondered what CDs she had in her car that would fit the bill on the arduous drive to work this morning - something that would bring back thoughts of yesterday, before things got complicated, Karen singing along beside her, just being a friend instead of... more than that?... and before the revelation of her betrayal.

God! Why does... Why is...? How? Fuck it. The answers aren't coming, even if she knew how to ask the questions, and it's not as if she's sure that she's prepared to hear the them right now anyway. She shut the cold water off completely and just let it burn for a second before stepping out of the shower.

Pam couldn't find the CD with the song that had been playing on the radio the day before. All of her music was peppy and safe and syruppy and not at all what she was in the mood for. And if she had to hear inane morning show chatter she'd probably kill something. So she drove in silence and tried not to think.

Tried and failed.

Jim's there when she arrives. She doesn't speak to him. He doesn't speak to her. But he looks at her in the way she's finally figured out means that he wants to talk with her, but he can't (is scared to, doesn't know how). If she had one of those expressions in her own arsenal, she'd be using it herself. Despite her deep contemplation the entire drive here, she just didn't know what to say. What could she say? What was there even to say at all? She figured it was going to be one of those days where she thinks all day, but doesn't come up with any answers or insights, sort of like September 11. Not that she feels good about comparing her own personal trauma to a national disaster, but she's been wandering around in a daze and it feels very familiar (the days following Casino Night were similar, but her mind never had the chance to wander because she'd had a wedding to stop).

But anyway, Jim... who was now turned to his computer, eyes glassy and dead, obviously distraught at the cold shoulder Pam had given him... She wanted to say something but her feelings were all muddled. Did she have any magic words that would make this all better? She didn't even have any words to adequately explain whatever 'this' was. She was too mad to talk to him anyway.

Karen came in at the top of the hour. Pam was glad to see that she had somehow made it home, changed, and fixed up her messy appearance from this morning. Jim looked at her apologetically. She didn't even glance in his direction. She didn't look at Pam either. She only said 'good morning' softly to a sympathetic Phyllis before turning all her attention to her computer. Bet the camera guys were dissappointed. The vast amount of non-interaction this morning was sure to make for TV gold.

She needed to talk to Karen. Really needed to. What on earth had happened this morning? (What had been about to happen?) Yesterday? Last night? This was not something she wanted to discuss in front of the cameras. That would truly be a mortifying experience (not that any of them were strangers to that occurance, but Pam still liked to limit her public humiliation time to a minimum). Still, she was pretty sure this was one conversation that her mom would probably like to be spared from viewing. She could just picture mom's neighbours gossipping about watching her daughter lusting over her longtime obsession's very recently ex-girlfriend. Yup, that would get her disowned. Not because of the gay thing (finally admitting that to herself, actually, that she might just be a teeny bit attracted to girls), but just because of the embarrassment and the hassle.

So far in the half an hour Pam has been here the only things anyone had said to her were one 'good morning' from Toby, and one 'boring' from a cameraman. Michael bursting from his office was almost a welcome change. Almost. "Sure is quiet in here today!" yelled Michael, ironically. He has an indoor voice. He just uses it only in very small rooms. "Pamalot, what are we up to this morning?"

Showcased in front of everyone, cameras pointed at her, conscience guilty. No one was exactly rushing to her defense. Michael was not someone she wanted to converse with now. "I'm going to go talk to Toby."

"Meh. Your funeral. Stan, my man! What up..."

Pam got up to walk to Toby's office. Jim quickly glanced up at her. Karen did not. The cameras were grateful for what little motion she provided. She closed the door behind her.

"Hi Toby."

"Morning, Pam. Um... how are things this morning?" She was grateful to have Toby to talk to. He didn't judge. He was completely harmless. He never expected anything of her or from her. Not that he was great conversation but it was just nice to have someone to vent onto.

"Um... well..." she sputtered. "Where do I begin?"

"Is Karen okay?" Well, guess that made sense to ask. That was, after all, the concern of the moment the last time he'd seen her.

"Yes. Well, no. I don't know."

"Did you get her home okay?"

"No..."

"Pam."

"It's not like I left her at some bar, if that's what you're thinking." Yeah, he probably wasn't thinking that. "She was at my place all night. It's just... things are complicated."

"Aren't they always?"

Despite herself, Pam smirked. "Yeah. Toby, I don't know what the hell I'm doing," she screamed into her hands. Okay, compose yourself. "Does HR have any pamphlets applicable to this situation?"

"We might. This situation would be?"

"Office love triangles, the messier the better," she mumbled. And no, this doesn't have anything to do with the pen-stabby thing I mentioned a couple of months ago.

"Ah. Not exactly surprising. We only have the one. I've read it. It's not very useful."

"Well, I could use it anyway." Toby nodded and opened his desk drawer to retrieve it. While he was there, she spotted a different pamphlet that might be useful - though she didn't say anything about that to him. "Toby, why do I always fall for people who are emotionally unavailable?"

He set the disgustingly thin pamphlet down in front of her. "Pam, we can't help who we fall in love with. No matter how impossible it is, how difficult it becomes, even knowing it's going to end badly, we're stuck with it. Can't deny your heart, Pam. Of course, following that advice you end up like me."

"I guess we're just fools for love, aren't we?"

"Yeah. Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Tell me about it."

"Hey Pam?"

"Yes?"

"Ah, it's nothing. Forget about it. Just, if you need to talk after reading our wonderful informational pamphlet, I'm always here for you." He was staring, but no one mentioned it.

"Thanks Toby."

She hid the pamphlet from the cameras on her way back to the reception desk, though the cameras weren't on her anyway. Pam watched along with them as Karen poured water on the seat of Jim's chair. As far as pranks go, it wasn't very creative, but it got the job done.

A few minutes later Jim returned from the washroom. It was mildly entertaining, but not really. He sighed, didn't look at anyone (though he must have felt Dwight's schadenfreude-filled smirk), and just kept working. This was going to be an uncomfortable day for him. In many ways.

"He had that coming," Pam whispered to Karen the next time the opportunity presented itself, and Karen almost grinned - but not quite. "Umm... Can I talk to you?"

Karen's eyes never left her phone list. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Not here. I need to talk to you outside. Away from the cameras and everyone else."

With much reluctance, Karen eventually said, "Okay," as if it had been a tougher answer than the word warranted, then added, "When I'm finished what I'm doing here." She wasn't doing anything. If this was the way this office was going to be from now on, Pam didn't like it one bit. Talk about fucking things up.

Twenty something minutes later, Karen bade Phyllis to watch her stuff, and slipped out the front door. Pam followed as soon as no one was watching. Well, Jim was looking at her, but it's not like he had the right to give her grief over this.

Pam wasn't entirely sure where she'd gone wrong. Karen had left her angry and confused when she had stormed out this morning. "I'm sorry Karen, was it something I did or said? I never wanted to force you away. Are you alright?"

"Nah. I'm okay."

"I feel so badly over how you left. How'd you get home?" she asked.

"Walked to corner. Caught a bus. Transferred twice."

"Can't you at least put together a full sentence for me?"

"Look, Pam. I'm sorry I made things awkward between us. I really, really regret what I did."

What was it about conversations like this that made it hard for Pam to maintain eye contact with Karen? She looked instead at her toes. Karen's shoes were much more stylish than her's. "You didn't do anything you need to regret."

"Yeah. You're right," Karen said, and Pam gulped. "It's no big deal, didn't really mean anything. I've been making something out of nothing. But thanks, for being there for me yesterday, keeping me from jumping off a bridge or anything like that. You're such a good friend." Karen abruptly retreated back to the office before Pam had even had time to absorb that.

For the second time this morning, Karen left without Pam watching her go. "What?" She stood there, shaking her head.

***

Toby was right: the pamphlet was crap.

***

Lunch was painful. No one was eating with anyone else. It's like something had happened to make everyone enemies. (Oh, wait. Duh.) Karen was eating in the breakroom, but even from where she was seated at the reception desk, Pam could tell that the few others who were in there with her were giving a wide berth. It was not a situation that Pam wanted to enter.

So she sat at her desk, not eating her yogurt, watching Jim not eat his sandwich. Already a few times they had spotted the other staring, but it wasn't funny like it used to be. She almost perferred how they had been ignoring each other for the past few months.

Pam finally picked herself up and talked to him. As she opened her mouth, she realized that it wasn't as difficult or awkward as she imagined. It was still sad though, because nothing about their situation was right, and likely wouldn't be soon. Maybe not ever. "Jim, I can't forgive you for hurting her," she said, so softly he could barely hear.

He looked guilty, slightly disappointed, but somehow more relaxed than he had been in recent memory. "I know," he replied. "I don't expect you to. Just one more mistake I've made in a long line of screw ups." Funny that he said it without the expected remorse. Just stating a fact.

"Yeah, you're a stupid ass," she said, lightly, though they could both tell there was real anger behind it. "Don't beat yourself up about it."

He smirked a self-defeatist smirk. "I'm sure Karen will do that for me."

"Did you know that she was trying to alienate us?"

"I did not. I wouldn't put it past her, though. Karen seems really nice, but she's got a mean streak on her."

"Yeah. How's your ass?"

"Soggy, thanks."

Pam chuckled (not leastly, to make sure she still could). "Have fun with that the rest of the day." The sound of laughter rang hollow in her ears. This wasn't the right conversation for easy banter. "She really cared about you. You could have shown some remorse, you know."

"I know," he said, solemnly. "It would have been fake."

"I know. That's why I can't really talk to you about this right now. I'm angry with you. Jim, you treated her very badly. You've been acting like an jackass and just making everyone miserable."

"She lied to you too."

"I can forgive Karen. She was only fighting for the one she loved. You can't say the same thing."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. So am I. I hope you understand why I can't be friends with you anymore. At least, not right now. Maybe someday we put this behind us and start again..."

"Soon, I hope."

"I hope."

He looked like he was about to cry. Let him. He's earned it.

The rest of lunch was still painful.

***

Pam caught up to Karen as she tried to beat a hasty exit from the office at the end of the day.

"Stop running away from me."

"Please, I don't want to talk right now."

"I held you all night. Dammit, look at me!"

Karen faltered, but she didn't turn. "Why can't you accept that I don't feel that way about you?" Why can't you just look at me?

"Do you really mean that?"

"Pam! We were drunk. I was heartbroken and vulnerable. You were lonely. Just please, let this be some crazy thing we did in our bleakest moments. Accept that it didn't mean anything." Karen looked down, like all her energy was gone. "Why can't you accept that I don't feel that way about you?" Shaking her head, she harrumphed and walked away with short, abrupt stides.

She'd inexplicably fallen hard for Karen already, and that rejection hurt like a stake through her heart. How could she have gotten this (everything) so wrong? God, she was so stupid for thinking some stupid rebound thing (not even 'thing') was something real. It was just like her to desperately latch onto the first warm body willing to lie next to her, the first person who sort of gets her. But that didn't explain the smile she'd gotten earlier this morning after she told Karen that she was interested, or the words that she doesn't think she'd imagined as Karen walked out of her apartment. Old Beesly would have just stood there, maybe cried a little, taken Karen at her word, and pretended that nothing had happened. Fancy New Beesly decided it was time to call someone out on her lies. "Bullshit!"

Hand falling from the elevator's down button, Karen slowly faced her, totally shocked. "What?"

Pam squared her shoulders and stared her down. "Bullshit," she repeated deliberately. And she pulled Karen into a frenzied kiss.

Maybe Fancy New Beesly was fancier than she expected.

Hard at Work (TWSS) by Alex Wert
Author's Notes:
Sorry about the long hiatus. Hockey playoffs, mostly.

The other day I tried to think back to the last fluffy Office fic I'd written, and I couldn't. So I looked through my notes and realized that I haven't written any Office fluff ever. So here's some fluff.

This one's for sherlockelly, who reminded me that, yes, I do in fact write KaPAM! and not just fandom's first Ryan/Hunter.

Pulling out of their kiss after several long moments, Karen was absolutely stunned. Then thoughtful. Then sad. Finally settling on just sort of neutral, saying softly, "Jim hasn't kissed me with that kind of passion in months..."

And Pam smirked at that. "So how do you feel about me now?"

"I want... " Karen shook her head, and looked remorseful (thus showing more facial expressions in the past ten seconds than she had all month). "I can't, Pam. I've betrayed your trust."

So Pam slapped her. "Even?"

"Damn, that was such a turn-on." This time Karen initiated the kissing and Pam finally let herself surrender to this feeling. By the time their lips eventually parted, their mouths were swollen and sore.

"Wow," they breathed in unison.

"Double-wow!" exclaimed Kevin, from where he still stood, rooted to the spot at which he first set eyes on the two women making out just outside the office door.

Upon further consideration later in her life, Pam would conclude that she had suffered a small heart attack at precisely this moment. That must have been one helluva kiss that she was so absorbed in it that she had never noticed the completely un-stealthy jumbo-sized accountant emerging into the hallway. Slowly her breathing and heartrate returned to the upper limit for her age group for female athletes just completing a marathon, the stars faded from her vision, and she could speak to maybe prevent some sort of scandal.

"Kevin! I'll give you a five month's supply of peanut M&M's if you never speak a word of this to anyone, ever."

Kevin knit his brows in deep concentration (whether mulling the deal or reflecting on what he'd just seen while the eye candy in question was still fresh in his mind was up for debate) and fiddled with his tie. "I don't know..."

"Six months."

"Deal."

Pam and Karen stared at him expectantly. He stood there. They gesticulated that he should leave. He stood there.

"Oh. I guess I should be going now. Um. Bye," he said, in his slow, ponderous way. He eventually did leave them alone in the hallway, but he walked backwards while doing it, a lecherous grin still plastered on his face (which would not leave him for some time).

She hadn't thought it was possible for someone of Karen's complexion to blush so hard, but it was an interesting shade. "We should have realized that we were making out just in front of the elevator." Karen remained a delightful pinkish-tan. Pam could only imagine her own lobster-like cheeks.

"I wasn't exactly concentrating on the details."

"The details were kinda unimportant at the time." Yeah, they kinda weren't.

"So. Kevin. Ultimate mood killer?"

Pam shrugged. "Could've been worse."

Karen was dumbfounded. "How so?"

"Two words: Todd Packer." That would have been horrific. Kevin was bad, but it was okay since she knew his weaknesses for candy and his submissive demeanor would be easy to regulate. If it was anyone else from the office outside of Toby... Pam really didn't want to even consider that. Of course there was one option that was even worse than Packer.

Karen brought that nasty, troublesome possibilty home: "Cameras," she said, and Pam was suddenly very worried. She'd brought up a good point about how, in the back of her mind while they were trying to sort out their painful, confusing lives, they knew that it'll be on TV at a later date, and everyone is going to get the opportunity to see what total goobs they've been. Imagine having to go to work knowing that. If you had one of these UST/triangle/breakdown type things everyone will know about... She suddenly found a new appreciation for Stanley's disinterested behaviour.

"I really hope they didn't catch that on film."

"Why not?" Karen grinned. "If they did, once this show goes on the air we could become very, very wealthy."

"By appealing to the cravings of filthy, pervy men? I'd rather not." Still, the thought was exciting - in the same sort of wrong way that this thing with Karen was also. "But it could save us the trouble of pulling off those jewel heists we were discussing this morning."

"Yeah. Taking our clothes off for money is much easier." It really was. Pam couldn't resist reaching for the top buttons of Karen's dress-shirt. There was something about her that just made Pam want to throw caution to the wind and damn the consequences. As she kissed her excitedly, letting all the months of suppressed craving emerge, she revelled in the feeling of the silky fabric (how much did this shirt cost anyway?) bursting from the tension of her chest and escaping with the loosing of the last buttons...

"Well, I'm not about to give you any money, but shall we begin with the disrobing anyway?"

Karen gasped against her skin. "If you don't want the cameras to see, we'd better at least do that someplace other than the hallway."

Pam reluctantly pulled herself away. "My place. Drive fast."

***

No sooner had Pam opened her apartment door did Karen pounce on her, the two falling into Pam's ratty, Goodwill couch. "I drove the entire way here with my shirt unbuttoned," Karen announced between kisses.

Pam giggled. Karen's lips were everywhere - including a few places where you'd normally think that lips should not be. "You must be so proud."

Karen wasted absolutely no time in getting Pam undressed. "I am," she said. "I think this may have been my all-time greatest achievement in the history of today." While Karen still had her shirt open, Pam was now pretty much all open.

"You're easily impressed."

"I knew there was a reason why I liked you."

Pam looked up at Karen in confusion and lust. "Did you just burn me or yourself?"

"I have no idea. I'm slightly preoccupied at the moment," replied a smirking Karen, in between kisses. "You should be too, you know. I don't want to have to do all the work."

"Gah!" Indignant. "What, you call this work?"

"I'll have you know that I have a very strong work ethic."

"Oh. Ooohhh! Carry on then."

Later...

"And a job well done, Miss Fillipelli."

"Thank you. I try. You know, we really must thank Jim for being such an ass."

"I'll get him a fruit basket with the petty cash money tomorrow."

"Sweet."

***

When Kevin returned home that night, he discovered that Stacey has baked him a pie.

Today was a good day for Kevin Malone.

Talking Smack by Alex Wert
Author's Notes:

We interrupt our regularly scheduled chapter to bring you gratuitous smut and cheap laughs.

I am apparently very suggestable. Everyone take note: I take requests.

Jim was very confused as to why there was a fruit basket on his desk the next day.

***

"Wait!" Pam yelled.

Karen sat up off of Pam's body abruptly, worry spreading across her face. "What? What's wrong?" she asked, with stunned confusion.

"Nothing. Just get off me for a second." Karen hesitantly complied with her demand. Pam rushed into her tiny bathroom and brushed her teeth quickly, because you really can tell if you use enough tongue. It was a a little over a week later and they had finally taken this new relationship outside of the office or Pam's apartment.

Pam had been so nervous. An actual date date - with Karen - in a nice restaurant. It was on the other side of town, kind of expensive and not very popular because they didn't want to run into anyone from work accidentally. Keeping Kevin quiet was easy. Potential others would be more difficult. And no way would they be able to pass this off as some friendly thing. Even though they tried to behave themselves at the restaurant, Karen was just so gorgeous tonight that it was impossible for Pam to keep her hands to herself. Not that inappropriate public displays of affection were Pam's problem alone that night...

If only all those kids from high school who had made fun of her for being so shy and timid and proper and dateless could see her now... well, actually that would be bad, very, very bad.

Dinner had been great, but awfully garlicy. Pam spit out the toothpaste, rinsed out her mouth, and fixed her tousled hair in the mirror. She needed to be perfect for Karen.

Karen was waiting for her on the couch, straightening out her dress and making sure it was riding up just a little (Karen wearing a dress was, of course, one of the reasons why they would definitely be unable to convince any of their co-workers that it was anything other than a date). She gave Pam an equally rare big, toothy smile, which Pam returned, adding a 'come hither' gaze on top. "Now where were we?" she asked retorically.

"Right about here," Karen replied, pulling her into a smouldering kiss. "Mmmmm... You're so minty fresh, Pam." Dinner was great, but dessert promised to be even better.

***

"Spank me!" yelled Karen, and Pam eagerly complied, enjoying the way the soft flesh of Karen's ass jiggled under the impact of her hand. "Harder!" Pam cupped her fingers and palm and brought them down on Karen's ass again, giggling at this newfound kink of her girlfriend. Karen was on all fours on Pam's bed, and Pam was kneeling behind her, enjoying the view of her smooth, naked back, the silky dark hair flowing down over her angular shoulders and (of course) that rockin' ass. The warm, wet skin beneath her felt so good to the touch, and she found to her surprise that she loved giving as much as receiving. Karen moaned out in delight, but also frustration. "Harder, Pam. Don't make me have to do it myself."

Pam had thought that she had spanked harder when she spanked her again.

"Karen, are you sure?"

"Yes!" she gasped out. "As hard as you can!"

Pam couldn't believe what Karen was saying as she looked down on the reddening flesh of Karen's backside. Still a very nice backside, but that looked like it had to be hurting. It's not as if she didn't like a little rough stuff either, but, at least in her past experiences... several years ago... with Roy... before they started mailing it in... it was mostly about the illusion of extra wickedness. Fun, innocent sex play. But Karen wanted the real thing.

"Okay..." she muttered, and wound up to take the swing. As hard as she could.

"OWWW!!! Ahh! Shit! Fuck, that hurt!" Karen collapsed in pain, clutching her sore rear. "Ow. What did you do that for?" she complained, wincing terribly.

"You asked me to."

Karen squirmed beneath her. "I didn't think you would actually do it. Jesus, Pam. That really stings. I wanted harder, not swinging for the fences." Poor baby.

Pam crawled up to whisper in Karen's ear. "Want me to kiss it better?" She enjoyed being naughty and nice, both at the same time. She took Karen's impish grin to be a yes, and slowly made her way down her body, stopping briefly to practice on certain uninjured body parts before working her medical magic on Karen's bruised bottom.

She kissed and she bit and she suckled and Karen's skin was salty and so, so hot. "You know how many times over the past few weeks I've wanted to tell you to kiss my ass?" Mood killer. But they both laughed. "This is much more fun than I had in mind." Soon, Karen was much more relaxed and comfortable and no longer complaining about the injury that Pam had inflicted upon her.

They weren't quite drifting off to sleep (it was still early yet), but snuggling. "From now on," Pam announced, "whenever I think of a pain in the ass, I'll think of you."

"Awww... isn't that sweet," Karen replied with mischief in her eyes. She sprung up to her hands and knees. "Okay, let's try this again. Take it down three - no, two - notches from the last one..."

The next day at work, Karen can sit down, but she'd rather not.

***

Dwight sent the fruit off to a toxicology lab. He thought someone was trying to poison Jim. Why he tried to prevent this from happening was a mystery to everybody.

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