1. Chapter 1 by officefreak
2. Chapter 2 by officefreak
3. Chapter 3 by officefreak
4. Chapter 4 by officefreak
5. Chapter 5 by officefreak
6. Chapter 6 by officefreak
7. Chapter 7 by officefreak
8. Chapter 8 by officefreak
Not for wussy readers with a weak stomach!
Each month, every menstruating woman dreads that time when life seems to end…or at the very least, comes to a halt for five to seven days. Pam Beesly was experiencing one of those days today and she was quite miserable.
She’d had the brilliant idea to go off of her birth control pills after her breakup with Roy. After all, it was a needless expense if she wasn’t having sex and besides, she needed that extra money to put towards the rent at her fancy new apartment (as Jim liked to refer to it). Now, she was paying for it with excruciating cramps like nothing she’d ever experienced before.
It should have dawned on her, since she usually had ungodly heavy periods in high school with cramps that would disable a person on morphine, that the cramps wouldn’t magically disappear over the years. Her attendance record had reflected this flaw in her anatomy as she missed no less than one day per month…two if she was having an exceptionally bad month. As soon as she started becoming sexually active with Roy during her senior year of high school, she had gone on the Pill. The relief to her tummy had been almost immediate. Nine years of oral contraception made one develop amnesia about ovarian pain.
Entering the office had been no simple feat. The Super-Plus tampon she had inserted only an hour earlier was beginning to leak down the braided cotton string and into her white cotton panties. She cursed herself silently for not bringing a spare pair. Guess I know what errands I’ll be running on my lunch hour, she surmised. Thankfully, she was wearing a black skirt and it had only soaked into the panties. She’d be able to muddle through until the uncomfortable warm wetness dried and crusted, but it was going to be a bitch to explain to people in the office why she had to take a bathroom break every 60 minutes…and they always asked.
The bathroom was nearly deserted this early in the morning, so she took the opportunity to stash a few tampons in the cabinet near the sink. She hated trying to use those doggone vending machines. They always ended up eating her quarters or the twisty knob got stuck halfway before depositing the wrong item, usually a pad that either barely qualified as a pantiliner or was so thick that she felt like she had a large hand towel bunched between her legs. And they never, ever had those protective wings, so you could count on messing up both side of your “period panties” as well.
She quickly changed her tampon and rushed back to her desk with her purse before anyone saw her. Once, Kevin saw her exiting the bathroom with her purse and he just gave this knowing look to her. It was the kind of look that made her feel like she was wearing a bright red shirt with gleaming white letters that announced “I’m menstruating!” That sort of humiliation was just too much to bear…not that she was ever the champion of confident behavior to begin with.
“Morning, Ms. Beesly,” the typical morning greeting chirped from the lips of Jim I-wanna-lick-chocolate-off-your-masculine-body-you-manly-man-you Halpert. Whoa, where’d that come from? Pam wondered as she watched him absently thump his fingers across her desk in his usual fashion and settled into his swivel chair. She noted that his hair was unusually flippy today. That meant that Karen would be hanging around his desk far too much and trying to smooth it with her hand at every passing. It really annoyed Pam when she did that. It thrilled her, however, when he’d flip it back up as soon as she walked away. Those were the days when they were having their weekly tiff. Of course lately, those tiffs were coming with more frequency and she had to work hard to stifle a grin every time one occurred.
Like a trained dog, Karen came ‘wagging’ over to Jim as soon as she’d hung up her coat on the rack and whispered something in his ear. Pam counted a full five seconds before she was smoothing the back of his hair into submission. She swore one day Karen was going to lick her hand like those moms at Walmart always did when their child’s cowlick wouldn’t lay down. That would be the day that the jig would be up and they would find Pam dead on the floor from laughing herself beyond hysteria.
Jim’s neck looked annoyed (and yes, Jim’s neck did emote) and Karen hadn’t made it two inches from him before he was violently flipping his hair back into place. Pam barely got her head below the desk before she started laughing silently, her head in her hands. A tiny snort emitting from her to give her stealthiness away.
Jim cleared his throat overdramatically and waited for Pam’s head to peer over the edge of her desk. As her frizzy curls raised slowly and cautiously, she noticed that Jim was uncomfortably (okay, so maybe not that uncomfortably) close. His arms were covered by the annoying sleeves, but his slender fingers still knew how to work a jellybean between them. For a millisecond, her mind drifted off to what those nimble fingers could do with other jellybean sized parts of her…but Jim’s mock icy stare snapped her into reality.
“What?” she blinked innocently, hoping to prey upon his better judgment than to tease her. She should have known better.
“Something you find funny, Beesly?” he replied with his trademark smirk. It was all she could do to keep from walking up there and wiping (kissing) that smirk right off his cocky little face. But she didn’t dare…not today anyway.
“Nope,” she squeaked, face flushing pink with embarrassment….well, as pink as she could when all the blood was rushing to her genitals. “Just a private joke.”
His eyebrow raised, cluing her in that he was not buying her story, but wouldn’t call her on it right now. “Mm-hmm…well, any time you feel like sharing said ‘joke’, I’d be interested to hear it.” And with another cocky grin, he spun around and moseyed on back to his desk to continue updating his MySpace page. Crisis averted….for now.
The continuing drama......
The cramps had subsided for a few minutes after she downed her first ibuprofen, but it hadn't hampered her ability to ‘bleed like a stuck pig', as Roy would have said. She wondered if anyone in the history of womanhood had ever seriously bled to death, because at the rate she was going, she was going to need a vaginal tourniquet or something.
Jim stopped by her desk once after she returned to ask her if she felt okay. She asked him why and he said she'd looked a little pale. Karen had walked by and given him the Evil Eye about that time, so he quickly suggested some iron supplements and quickly trotted his pussy-whipped ass back to his chair. Pam grew more infuriated by the minute, but tried to contain her anger for Jim's sake. Normally she'd have been totally on Karen's side, but along with being irrationally jealous, Karen also knew how to hand a man's testicles to him in a burlap sack if they crossed her, so she knew Jim's passiveness wasn't going to break that barrier until she gave him reason to grow a spare pair and stand up to her.
Hour two was beginning to creep up on her faster than she realized. Phyllis was her next victim in the Let's-Shield-Pam-From-Imminent-Menstrual-Embarrassment Watch. With such a kind heart, Phyllis gave her an understanding smile and a "Sure, sweetie. Take your time," and sat down at the reception desk. Jim came over for a little bit and teased Mrs. Bob Vance about her new job and she giggled while he continued playfully teasing him. Karen got up again to make her ‘sweep' across the room, but noticing Phyllis sitting there, she decided to let this one slide. They were definitely going to have another one of those infamous talks that Jim loved sooooo much. She'd spend the evening pointing out that an indecisive woman like Pam was just not appropriate for him and how right she was for him because she was so stable in her career and her love life. Long haul girls always won out, her mother had once told her, flaky indecisive ones never did. Grinning with satisfaction, Karen made her way into the breakroom for a much needed snack.
Pam made it back to her desk in record time. Jim was standing there chatting up Phyllis. She wondered absently if he'd been keeping tabs on her bathroom activities. But his days of pranking her, or anyone in the office for that matter, were usually reserved for the days when Karen was sick or out on a sales call, so she felt safe.
"And you would be....?" Jim extended his hand to her. Pam offered up a sheepish grin and re-introduced herself as the new receptionist. They were such dorks sometimes, but that's what made them such great friends. Hopefully, when Jim got his head out of his ass, it'd make them great lovers too. And why was she thinking all of these lustful thoughts today?
An hour later, she was simply miserable. The ibuprofen had worn off a good two hours earlier than the package stated. She had a mind to sue their pants off during one of her inner menstrual rages, but then figured if you can't beat it, feed it chocolate!
Of course, this was the week that the vending guy had filled the machine with everything non-chocolate. She scanned and scoured the slots for anything with that sweet cocoa elixir. Hell, she'd have even gone for a half-spoiled carton of chocolate milk at this point. She was about to give up and started to walk away, when the bright orangey-red package caught her eye. Kit-Kats! Score! There was one left, so she had to act quickly.
But before she could make her way to the vending machine, Jim had sauntered in and begun perusing the selections. His brows knit together in extreme concentration for what seemed like hours. Then he finally made his choice and carefully deposited the coins into the slot. He mouthed the letter/number combination and Pam's heart dropped. Not the Kit Kat! Anything but the Kit Kat!
"Jim!" she screamed in a panic, wishing that she hadn't done so as soon as it came out of her mouth.
His eyebrow shot up and he swung around, as if he hadn't noticed her there up until that point. "Yes?"
She felt her face flush again and stammered, "Oh...um...I was just-gonna get that. And it's, like, the last one and everything and....well, I like, really need it."
The smartass grin he delivered back to her was not encouraging. "Oh, you need this?"
Crap, crap, crap! He's going to make me beg.
"Yes. Please....Jim?" she pleaded desperately with her eyes, trying to muster up a tear for sympathy. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite as talented with turning the waterworks on and off like he was.
"Come on, sit," he replied, patting the seat next to him. Her eyes nearly bugged out at the thought of not only sitting that close to him when she was this horny, but also of Karen finding them and the imminent tirade she'd be likely to rain down on them both. But damn it all, the chocolate trumped fear today. Her hormones called for it. Karen be damned.
Will Pam get her much deserved chocolate break? Tune in....
Revenge is sweet, but chocolate is sweeter!
"Grape soda?" Jim asked, scooting the can in Pam's direction, along with a plastic cup.
Disappointed, Pam replied, "No....thanks. And I thought you were all Mr. Bottled Water now?"
A half-grin tugged at his lips and it sounded like he "humph-ed" a little, as if she could dare to dictate his likes and dislikes. "Sometimes, you like to go back to what's familiar."
"Uh-huh....." she responded with a raised eyebrow, leery of his meaning.
"You know, cuz it simply tastes better...."
Pam smiled and looked at her hands, unable to meet his gaze and cautious of his flirtatiousness. Since he returned, Jim's flirty behavior typically was snuffed out in a nanosecond by his hovering new girlfriend.
"....much like this Kit Kat bar," he teased.
This was war! Pam scowled at him, but it was really hard to concentrate on her pursed lips as she watched him crack off one of the crispy sticks and place the tip into his mouth. He made it worse when he moaned and groaned in ecstacy, causing some of the melted chocolate to seep out of the corner of his mouth, leaving a chocolate river there.
"I'm not above licking that chocolate off your face, Jim Halpert."
"Oooh...fiesty! And hot. I'm liking this Fancy New Beesly." he retorted.
Pam snorted, "You wish!" There was a part of him that probably did wish, she supposed. But now was neither the time, nor the place, to discuss this. She had to focus all of her energies into luring him away from the smaller chunk of this delicious chocolate confection.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, my dear," he taunted again. The second stick was heading in the direction of his mouth.....
"Seriously, Jim. If you value your life in the tiniest way, you'll break me off a piece of that Kit Kat bar."
Her stern and steely gaze meant business and Jim knew exactly what that meant. Taunt her some more, of course. So he made slow, oral love to the second stick, making sure to smear lots of ooey, gooey chocolate all over his lips like a three year old at Halloween with his first bag of candy.
Jim Halpert suddenly saw his life flash before his eyes as Pam moved at lightning speed towards him. "Fuck it," barely a whisper on her lips as she moved in for the kill. His eyes went wide as the hot, wet, searching tongue of Pamela Beesly cleaned his mouth of every last remnant of chocolate on his face. His breath came out in staccato bursts as the lust threatened to consume him in a fiery ball of spontaneous combustion. His hands went limp at his sides as Pam continued her fervant worship of his chocolate mouth and straddled his lap. One, two, three.....
.....and the remainder of the Kit Kat bar now rest in the hands of the sneaky receptionist. She quickly extricated herself and skipped merrily away while he was still panting and helpless, sweat forming along his hairline. During a moment of clarity, she thought she should feel bad for what she just did. But, he simply should have known better than to get between her and her chocolate.
Caught with their proverbial pants down, how will things end for our dynamic duo?
The rest of the day went as usual....hourly potty breaks, the occasional knowing sneer from Kevin and scowl from Karen. Just another normal day at Dunder Mifflin. When 5 p.m. rolled around, Pam headed for the conference room to do her daily talking head.
"How do I feel about what I did to Jim? Well, let's just say it satisfied more than one need." She smirked coyly at the camera and just got up and left without another word. Jim eyed her nervously as she made her way to the coatrack, leaving without so much as a good-bye....but she did do something very unexpected.
....she winked.
Jim slowly made his way into the conference room, dreading every step that brought him closer to the inevitable interview. "How do I feel about what Pam did to me? I guess I'll have to answer that question when the bloodflow returns to my brain." In much the same fashion as Pam, Jim got up and ignored the other questions firing at him one after the other.
The cameramen started packing up their equipment for the day, when Karen stopped them. "Wait, aren't you going to interview me?" The two men looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders as if to say "why not?" and set everything up.
"How do I feel about what Pam and Jim were doing?" Karen revealed, much to the shock and dismay of the crew, "I think the bitch is going to be sorry she ever crossed me." Her lips pursed and jaw clenched, showing her obvious ire. A sweet, deceptive grin then crept over her features as she stood up to leave.
* * * * *
Tuesday started off with a bang. As if yesterday weren't bad enough, Pam woke to messy underwear in spite of getting up twice during the night, wearing a super plus tampon AND an extra thick overnight pad besides. This was going to be a hellish day and she prayed to any diety that would listen for early menopause.
She was feeling particularly bloated today, so she wore a larger shirt than normal. However, even this shirt was pulling at the buttons as her breasts seemed to have gained a full cup size overnight and her belly had protruded to cause the waistband of her smoky gray skirt to cut into her skin every time she sat down. Nothing seemed to fit and she wanted to pull out every outfit from her closet and burn it out on the sidewalk. Instead, she just squeezed into what she had and prayed that the Midol she popped into her mouth would relieve some of the uncomfortable bloat.
The thermostat felt like it had been turned up a full 20 degrees today. She caught herself fanning her face every so often with any piece of paperwork Michael handed her way. A heating pad would have felt wonderful against her aching abdomen, but she probably would have vomited from overheating in this oven they liked to call an office.
Her appetite was about the equivalent of an Ethiopian's as she gagged down another mixed berry flavored yogurt. Even if it had been dipped in a gallon of chocolate, she'd have never been able to finish it. Jim frowned as he watched her throw an almost full container of Yoplait in the trash can.
"You okay, Beesly?" he questioned, an honest look of concern washing over his face.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just not feeling particularly well today."
His hand rubbed comfortable circles between her shoulderblades. "If you're feeling that bad, why don't you take a sick day?"
She sighed aloud, "Well, my 'fancy new apartment' isn't going to pay for itself. Besides, I've used up most of my sick days and I want to save them for cold season."
Jim smiled. He remembered more than one occasion where he had to bring Pam some hot chicken soup or a couple of boxes of Kleenexes when Roy was out of town with his brother. She got sick so often with colds and he had recommended taking a daily multivitamin. Of course, she thought she knew better and opted for letting him come over and put a cold cloth on her forehead, which would give her an opportunity to vent about how crappy Roy was treating her by not being there for her...and what a good 'friend' Jim was being to her. He'd spent hours of those days treating her like a queen, in hopes that someday she would come to her senses and see what a fool she'd been to be with Roy. And yet, she'd stay. Now that he had Karen and Pam had nobody, he wondered how she would make it through her sick days without him.
He didn't have much time to think about it, because Michael had up and decided that they were going to have another team building meeting. This one involved improving the quality of service to their customers. Ironically, nobody was there to answer the phones or serve the customers, as it was mandatory to sit in the conference room and listen to Michael drone on for the next 3 hours non-stop. Jim was thankful he'd gone to the bathroom before Michael's announcement, because potty breaks were NOT allowed.
Pam gulped nervously, cursing herself for waiting that extra five minutes for her bathroom break. There was no way in hell she was going to be able to quietly sneak out and make any changes. Crap, damn it and double crap!
It was going to take some creative thinking on her part to make it out of this meeting for a brief tampon changing break. If she timed it just right, she figured she could get halfway through before a "code red" needed to be called. So she just sat quietly in the back of the conference room with a notepad and pretended to scribble notes.
It made Pam giggle out loud a bit when Michael pointed out that the reason for the meeting was there were too many people playing practical jokes and messing around on company time and not completing sales. This meeting was completely directed at Jim and he knew it.
At first, he looked a little ashamed about it, but soon he was throwing in his two cents about how bobbleheads were equally distracting. Dwight gave him the evil eye for the umpteenth time that day. Jim grinned smugly as Michael chastised Dwight for having playthings on his desk. Of course, that smile faded when the conversation went off on a tangent involving Jim being tested for Attention Deficit Disorder. The next 45 minutes were devoted to accommodating Jim's special needs.
An hour and a half had already passed and Michael seemed to just be gearing up and Pam was growing decidedly uncomfortable with how long her feminine hygiene products were going to hold up. Her hand raised timidly and she waited for Michael to stop his rant of the moment. She knew if she told him the real reason for the interruption, she'd die from a special kind of embarrassment.
"Ms. Beesly, you had a comment?" Michael pointed to her.
All eyes fell on her.
"Oh...um....I just needed to leave for just a quick minute." The flush of pink was barely visible below her collar as the heat of awkwardness became apparent.
"Pam, you know I love you. Well, not in the way I love Jan. But the fact of the matter is, we don't allow breaks. Hence, the mandatory....ness...of the situation," Michael stammered.
Okay, persistence was needed if he wasn't going to give in. So, she waited another 10 minutes before asking again. And then 10 more. And then another 10.
Code Red!!!
"Michael, I'm going to use the restroom," Pam stated, no longer caring about getting into trouble.
She stood up to leave. Michael headed towards the door and locked it, placing the key deep into his front pocket. Pam may have been desperate to use the bathroom, but she wasn't so desperate to reach into his front pocket and take any chances that she might brush up against any body part that might get in the way. She'd jump straight through the glass window that looked out into the office before she'd resort to that.
"Michael, I'm sick," her eyes pleaded with him for compassion.
"What are your symptoms?" Dwight inquired, grabbing his clipboard and poised his pen to take notes.
Pam sighed loudly, "Severe stomach pain, bloating and nausea." It was best to be upfront, yet discreet, if she wanted to get out of there with the slightest shred of dignity.
"Michael, may I go check her symptoms on WebMD?"
Eyes rolling in disgust at both Pam and Dwight's disrespect for meeting etiquette, he spat out "fine" and continued talking. Dwight returned less than a minute later to assure Michael that all of Pam's symptoms "checked out".
Pam felt like she won the lottery as she got the all-clear, nearly skipping merrily as she went. That was, until there was an audible gasp as Pam headed to the conference room door.
"Oh honey...." was Phyllis's reaction.
Angela looked at her with disgust...and the slightest hint of sympathy. "I don't think we need to make a production out of this unfortunate....incident. Come on, Pam." With that, Angela placed herself strategically behind Pam.
That's when Pam knew.......her steps quickened until she was almost at a dead run. The door to the ladies' room swished open, slamming into the wall as Pam raced to the mirror. Lo and behold, there it was. The one thing every girl dreads from the time she has her first period.
....the giant red stain from Hell.....
....directly on the back of her skirt.....
....and there was no mistaking it for a leaky red pen.
She wanted to die of embarrassment. For a moment, she contemplated checking the internet to see if anyone had actually died from humiliation. In this case, it was extreme humiliation. She checked her pulse. Nope, still alive. Dammit.
Fat tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes, threatening to leave a trail down her cheeks. Everyone saw the source of her humiliation. Everyone....Jim. The thought sent her over the edge and she sat on the commode, blood-soaked panties at her ankles, sobbing into her hands.
Phyllis snuck in for a quick second and knocked on the stall door. "Dwight is timing me, but I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you okay, sweetie?"
Between broken sobs, Pam managed to squeak out, "Yeah....I'll......befine......and....(hiccup)...I'm not coming out til everyone's gone."
"Is there anything you need, dear?" Phyllis inquired. She was always such a mother hen to everyone in the office.
"No, I just need to....(sniff)...get cleaned up...(sniff)...."
Phyllis nodded and said a quick goodbye.
"Oh, and Phyllis?"
The older woman spun around, door slightly ajar. "Yes?"
"Tell Dwight to go away."
Phyllis nodded silently and made her way out of the restroom, pushing past Dwight. When he didn't budge from the women's room door, she roughly grabbed Dwight at the elbow, pinching the nerve tightly as she did, and led him back to the conference room. The cameras could pick up the sounds of scolding through gritted teeth as they went along, but nothing audible enough for submission.
Jim, who had been slouching in his chair until that point, sat bolt upright as Phyllis sat down next to him.
"Is she okay?" Jim asked in a hushed tone, looking at the floor.
Phyllis closed her eyes and nodded, sucking in her bottom lip and chewing it nervously.
Michael noticed the conversation between the pair and decided to make an example of them. "Excuse me! Excuse me!" he started.
Like deer in headlights, Jim and Phyllis focused all of their attention on their fearless leader, praying that he wouldn't make too many wild requests, due to their inattentiveness.The room got deathly quiet.
Michael simply stared at the two for what seemed like hours, though only about 2 minutes had passed. Then, in a low and gravelly voice, he continued. "Anything you care to share with us?"
The "oh shit" look crossed both of their faces. They'd been through this before and knew what it meant. Slowly, they both shook their heads, indicating that they wouldn't share.
Instead of nodding and continuing, like most self-respecting bosses would have done, he gave the entire room full of people a time-out. Like all the parenting books told him, it was one minute per age...and if the entire room was being punished, they were going to be there a loooong time.
Ninety minutes had passed and quitting time was just around the corner and people were getting antsy--namely Karen, who had big plans to screw Jim's brains out later that evening. Being new to the branch, she had no idea just how serious Michael Scott was about his so-called punishments. "He's serious? Is he serious?" she asked Oscar, who sat in his chair looking like a whipped puppy.
"Oh, he's very serious. One day, during a morning meeting, I whispered something to Meredith and we seriously sat here the entire day doing nothing."
"Oh....my god!" she exclaimed, bouncing her leg nervously and gritting her teeth, the ire bubbling just below her thin lipped smile.....Her lips grew thinner when she saw Pam emerge from the restroom with her cardigan strategically wrapped around her waist.
Michael met her by her desk as she scrambled to get her stuff together and leave. He wasn't having any of it and a loud altercation began, her fellow Dunder-Mifflinites dumbfounded at the mousy receptionist's newfound courage. Michael threatened that he could punish them all night long.
Karen just sat there, quietly seething as Michael dragged a red-faced Pam into the conference room, Pam protesting the entire time about her problem and how she had to go home.....
.....and then, Karen blew.
She stood up, one hand on her hip and the other pointing an accusing, yet well manicured finger. "Well, maybe if you hadn't been busy sucking my boyfriend's face off in the lunch room, you would have had the presence of mind to make sure your female problems were taken care of before we ever walked in here!"
A dead silence fell over the room once again.
Karen, you little bitch! LOL How will our heroine get through the hell that is Tuesday?
(Your reviews are like crack and I'm like a crackwhore. Please feed my addiction!)
Pam's bottom lip sucked into her top lip, her teeth holding her bottom lip firmly in place. She imagined that had it not been for the feel of her teeth piercing her skin, she probably would have given Karen a good, old-fashioned bitch slap--the kind that could be heard around the world.
Her voice barely a whisper, Pam began, "I didn't hear him complaining."
Karen's fists clenched and unclenched, her painted nails cracking under the pressure. Her eyes darted from Jim, to Pam, then back to Jim, the entire time her right foot tapping S.O.S. in morse code. "Jim, aren't you going to say anything?"
Jim's eyes went wide, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words to verbalize his racing thoughts. It reminded Pam of a fish that had accidentally jumped out of it's fish bowl, it's mouth opening and closing wordlessly as it gasped for breath.
"Jim!" Karen screamed, staring daggers at him. To Jim, it sounded like a command, rather than a request. And Jim certainly didn't let anyone tell him what to do, even if they had been sleeping together. That sort of behavior was only permitted in the bedroom in the kinkiest of circumstances, not in the office.
His lips thinned and he gazed at the floor, "Apologize."
Pam's mouth opened in surprise. "Jim, I'm not going to apologize for being in love with you. And yes, I may have suffered from temporary insanity yesterday when I acquired that candy bar, but I don't regret it. Not one bit."
The crowd of employees gasped again. Michael momentarily forgetting his time out and uttering, "Rawr, cat fight!" The glare of death from Karen and Pam stopped him from saying anything else.
"I meant you, Karen," Jim added with more resolve to his tone.
The room fell silent. Jim swore there was the faint chirping of crickets like you see on those comedy shows. Karen's hazel eyes, which usually glinted like crystal, turned coal black as the anger bubbled up from somewhere thought to be the very depths of Hades.
"Fuck you, Jim Halpert!" she hissed, throwing her pen at him for effect. "Fuck you up your stupid ass. I don't have to apologize for shit! Did you hear that? Why don't you pull your flippy-haired head out of your.....you know what? Forget it. I'm done."
With that, Karen stomped out of the room, Michael and his time-outs be damned. Her heels clicked so loudly down the hallway that it was surprising they hadn't broken off at the base. Pam stood there with her mouth hanging open in awe. Did Jim and Karen just break up? Oh...my.....Jim and Karen just broke up!
Her reverie was broken when she felt a warm hand slip inside hers, fingers intertwining. They were soft, with only a few random callouses. Pam's eyes shone with the tears that threatened to spill once again. A smile crept slowly over her features until Jim could swear he saw every tooth in her mouth.
"Let's get you home," Jim replied, giving Pam's hand a soft and comforting squeeze.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I felt like I should have bought some popcorn and a box of Milk Duds for this show," Oscar said later in his talking head. "I wasn't too sure who to root for. I mean, Pam's so sweet and nice. Karen's like the Anti-Pam."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Michael simply sighed and shrugged and started for the door. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief that their time out was finally over. That was until Michael turned around suddenly and informed them that their time would resume when they got back tomorrow. Meredith and Toby shared a look of relief, as they had children to pick up from daycare. They were just glad that Creed wasn't there today, otherwise their timeout minutes would have had them cooped up for a week.
But wait, there's more! (That's what happens when my boss decides to galavant around town, trying to acquire new customers. Heh....I have my own Dunder-Mifflin to work for.)
Your reviews really keep me committed to updating, so please keep up the constructive compliments! :o)
Jim's strong hand slid into hers, locking together perfectly. Pam would have reveled in that for a while, had it not been for the fact that she had a huge red stain on her skirt that was interrupting her less-than-innocent thoughts. She felt the heat of embarrassment rise up in her cheeks once again and she couldn't bear to look him in the eye.
He briefly let go long enough to grab both of their jackets and fling them over one arm, before grabbing ahold of her hand once again. A grin pulled at his features, one that he seemingly couldn't wipe off if he tried. That was, until he got out to his car.
"Jim, really, you don't have to follow me home. I'll be fine. I'll just go home and clean up...." Her mouth was silenced as he pulled her waist towards him, ignoring her condition and smothering her words with his lips and tongue. His hands were insistent, pulling her closer until she felt she'd melt into him like hot metal under a welding torch. Absently, her arms wrapped around his neck, her hungry lips burning with desire and searching to taste more of his scrumptious grape soda flavored mouth. As long as she lived, she swore to herself that grape soda would always be on the grocery list.
His senses slowly started to come back to him and he released her, looking into her eyes with the kind of longing that nearly frightened her...mainly because it matched her own. "Um, so you'll have to show me this fancy new apartment, right?"
A sad smile tugged at her lips and she nodded. She recalled that night, so long ago, when they'd shared stories about scary movies and numerous kitchens. When he'd finally come back, he'd never asked to see her new place. He'd been too wrapped up in Karen and distracting himself from having to make a visit. Now he'd finally get to see what she'd made of the small apartment. It was little, but it was homey, with rich hues in jeweled tones brightening the walls and various kinds of art decorating their surfaces.
"Why don't you ride with me, you can come get your car later. I promise I won't lock you up in my basement," she smiled shyly, then added, "Unless you want me to...."
Jim laughed in spite of the thick sexual tension that clung to the air. "We'll see," he answered, his eyebrow cocked up as he slid into her car.
Pam gasped in surprise and didn't say another word the entire ride home. Jim just stared at her uncomfortableness and grinned with amusement. They'd have plenty of time to talk once they got settled at her place, right now he was just going to enjoy looking at her....just taking in all of her features...without having to worry about the piercing glares from Karen or the "long talks" she liked to have with him all the time whenever he showed the slightest bit of affection, or friendship, towards Pam.
Her fingers trembled as she struggled to find the key and make it work in the lock. Jim was coming into her house! There were no co-workers around, no friends...no fiances to get in the way. Could she handle the two of them alone together in a room? Would she be able to control herself? Oh right, she'd be able to control herself. There was a relative visiting, after all....Aunt Flo.
She sighed with frustration at the thought and invited him in.Jim marveled at everything in her apartment, especially the artwork, as if it were some priceless piece like the Mona Lisa. It didn't escape her keen eye that he had snuck a peek....or two...in the direction of her bedroom too while she picked out some new--and comfier--clothes to change into.
She opted for a form fitting cami underneath a zippered pink tracksuit top and black yoga pants. Black was such a forgiving color during that time of the month. She had a mind to mentally kiss the man that invented black pants for women...but not before she kissed Jim Halpert for several hours....or days....whichever.
"Oh no!" Jim exclaimed, smacking his forehead.Pam watched his mouth curve into a frustrated scowl. His pleading eyes met hers, "Pam, I forgot something at the office. And, under normal circumstances, I would wait until tomorrow, but if I don't, there will be hell to pay."
"Worse than the hell you'll pay for leaving me?" she teased, tongue between her teeth. For a moment, Jim thought about taking that tongue into his mouth and punishing it with his own, but he had to maintain what little focus his testicles would allow him while he still could.
"Ten minutes and I'll be back. You won't be sorry," he teased back, not giving her time to process what he'd just said before walking out the door.
A devilish grin pulled from ear to ear. Miss Pamela Beesly would be sorry.....very sorry. And he was going to relish every second of it.