KELLY CLARKSON

"What's that?" Pam said, leaning towards Jim in the elevator.

"What?" Jim said, dropping his hand. His iPod now dangled loosely between his fingers at his hip. "Nothing."

"What do you mean nothing?" Pam said smiling up at him with a giggle in her eyes. One that was just dying to exit her mouth. She grabbed his hand and turned it towards her. The move had been such a shock that she pulled the iPod easily out of his hand.

His eyebrows lifted. "Nothing...Pam, give it."

"You can't just make me give it to you," she said sliding her thumb along the wheel..."What..."

"Oh...I can't?" Jim said in response to the challenge, reaching for it. He pulled it from her grasp.

"Let me see...Jim, don't be ashamed."

"I'm not ashamed."

"I think you are," Pam said, the giggle fit beginning now. "I think you're...you're so embarrassed that you have a Kelly Clarkson song on your iPod."

"Shut up....you haven't even heard this song - you don't know."

"Oh really?...Well let me hear it....then I'll know," she said doubling over slightly as she clutched her stomach.

"So immature," he said staring up at the descending numbers on the elevator console.

"I'm not the one who's hiding his iPod...let me see..."

"No. Stop."

"Are you listening to Miss Independent?" Pam said following him when the elevator doors finally opened. Jim placed the buds in his ears and pretended not to hear her anymore.

But, it was time for lunch and they were going to Cujinos, so Pam skipped along behind him.

"I don't know why you're following me...you're totally walking there."

"Jim...please....I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Be my boyfriend again."

"No. We're through."

DOMESTIC GOD

"I'm sorry," Pam said pressing a kiss against the middle of Jim's back. She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt his stomach rumble against her arms. "I totally should have thought about going grocery shopping...I just...this week was so crazy and I don't know...I guess I didn't anticipate a sleep over."

It was the first weekend they'd actually done this. Slept over.

Friday night they'd both been ravenous for each other, and now...now they only wanted to ravish a bit of breakfast.....or brunch rather...it was actually long past breakfast time.

But there was nothing that resembled either meal in Pam's kitchen.

"Ok...as much as I never want to leave here...I will die if I don't eat in the next 30 minutes." Jim said breaking free of her arms. He started rummaging through her kitchen.

"From now on Pam...try and be prepared, ok?"

She sighed a bit dreamily. "Ok."

"See," he said opening the refrigerator. "This is what happens when you only have one kitchen. Please consult me the next time you're looking for somewhere to live."

Pam let herself linger for a few moments too long on that thought. She could definitely see herself "consulting" him the next time.

He turned around for a moment to smile at her and shake his head in mock disapproval. God...just watching him. The way the muscles in his shoulders and back slid back and forth beneath his smooth skin. The way his skin seemed to gleam under the kitchen lighting.

"Oh...lemon juice...butter...Canadian bacon...wow - who keeps that on hand? Fancy New Beesly of course..."

The use of the nick-name shook her from her thoughts and she watched him as he brought those ingredients over to the countertop.

"What are you doing?"

He turned back to the fridge just for a moment and reached up to the top, ignoring her question. She marveled at his ease in her apartment. At the grace and agility in which he reached and flexed...no need for tip-toes or a step-stool. So freaking hot...

"English muffins...Not moldy..." he said peering inside the bag. "Ok, we're having Eggs Benedict."

Pam blinked a few times as he got a bowl out of her cupboard and set to cracking an egg. "You know how to make Eggs Benedict?"

"My mom's favorite," he said shrugging a bit, as if it were truly no big deal. "Why...you don't?"

Pam blinked again to clear the fog of lust. She wasn't sure whether the jolt was in response to him or the promise of food.

"Doesn't Eggs Benedict have Hollandaise sauce?"

"Yeah."

"You know how to make hollandaise sauce?"

Jim just stared at her for a moment and then chuckled. "Yeah," he said finally.

Pam smiled and leaned against the counter. Her mouth got away from her and started moving without first consulting her brain.

"I think you should move in."

His eyes met hers. "Ok."

OLD FRIENDS - THE THING THAT MAKES EVERYONE HAPPY

"What is wrong with you?" Jim asked, pausing the shopping cart in front of the cereals for the second time. It was the second time she'd done something...weird.  

"Nothing...just - let's not go that way," she said starting to pull the shopping cart in the direction from which they'd come.

Jim pulled back on the handle. "Uh...ok...but the Vanilla Swiss Almond ice cream is down aisle 9 I'm pretty sure."

"No...yeah, I just...," Pam eyes darted towards the end of the aisle.

"Wow...what..." Jim trailed off when she literally flattened herself against a bunch of cereal boxes. "Pam."

He glanced in the direction of her stare, spotting a guy at the end of the row, in an old bomber jacket and baseball cap. He was intently perusing a box of Captain Crunch.

"Do you know that guy?" Jim asked, feeling a little weird suddenly. "Pam?...What's going on?"

She licked her lips nervously and let out the breath she'd been holding when the guy finally threw the box of cereal in his basket and rounded the corner.

"Pam?"

"Yeah," she said shaking herself out of the fog she'd been in. "Um...he's Roy's cousin, Lou."

Jim's eyes widened. "Wow...seriously?...Should we -

"No...I mean it's fine," she said waving him off. "Totally."

"Oh right. Looked fine.....absolutely," Jim said, glancing towards the Captain Crunch again. Roy's cousin was nowhere to be seen now, but Pam was still as white as a sheet.

Pam took another deep breath. "Ok, so listen...he is fine...really. He's a totally nice guy -

Jim muttered under his breath, "Well you said that about Roy so..."

"My bad - did you want to hear this story or not?"

"Sorry...yeah....Go."

"Like I said, he's a total nice guy," Pam said, her voice almost too low to hear over the muzac that pumped it's way through the grocery store, but Jim could tell she wasn't about to speak any louder. Even if the guy was currently buying toilet paper all the way on the other side of the store.

Pam continued. "He was pretty much the only member of Roy's family who didn't call to give me shit when I broke up with Roy."

Jim looked down at his shoes. He hadn't known that...That they'd called her? What a shitty time that must've been. He and Pam had never really talked about all the by-products of her break up with Roy. He wondered what other things she'd yet to reveal. He wondered if he really wanted to know.

"So why the fugitive impression?" Jim asked gesturing to the row of cereal she'd leaned against.

Pam bit her lip. "It's...kinda complicated. But...well...we kinda made out."

Jim's eyebrows hit his hairline. "What? You made out with Roy's cousin? Pam - when?"

For some reason - he didn't quite know why - because it didn't make any sense...he felt a little amused by this revelation.

"Ssssh! It was like...a long time ago. Way before I met you even...but it's always been awkward since then....Roy and I were fighting" She added before Jim could ask another question. "We were at this family thing - the big 4th of July picnic they have every year...where Roy and his brothers act like total idiots...and Lou was just...he was always just really nice to me, and I was drunk and......Lou was always the cousin Roy made fun of...and I think we both just wanted to get back at Roy a little and so...I mean it was totally stupid...we went for this walk in the park and just...I'd had a few beers - and you know me...cheap date."

"Oh my God...Pam,"  Jim said, smiling a bit. Was it the fact that she'd done something like that to Roy that was amusing him so? He wasn't sure...

"Stop. I was like 19....and nothing really happened...we just made out.......And then we promised that we'd never ever talk about it because neither one of us wanted anything to happen...I felt totally bad about it...but...yeah, so there you have it - a huge Pam Beesly secret...nobody knows that. Not even my mom."

"And you never told Roy?"

She shook her head.

"So wait," Jim said leaning against their grocery cart. "Let me get this straight...you told Roy about me kissing you...once...but you made out with his cousin and never bothered to mention that?"

Pam tried valiantly to squelch a smile, but failed miserably.

"Pam I nearly lost my life...and this guy's walking around - seemingly unafraid of being attacked."

Pam smiled, "Dwight totally saved you...say what you will - but you can't deny he's got amazing reflexes."

"Wow. So not the point."

Pam started walking down the aisle and Jim followed, she turned to glance at him. "You're wrong anyway."

"About?" Jim said, still a bit flabbergasted that they were having this conversation. Pushing the cart behind her. 

"I didn't tell Roy that you kissed me...I told him that I kissed you."

Jim squinted. "Well...you did - but I initiated."

"I know that."

"So then why did you -

She stopped, put her hands on the back of the cart to stop him as well.

"Maybe I wanted him to think that I...that I initiated......"

Jim could only stare at her. Wait for it...

"Listen Jim...that thing with Lou -- why would I mention that? It didn't matter in the slightest...it was something I did for stupid reasons. Something he did for stupid reasons. But when you told me that...when you..." Pam shook her head and her eyes filled a bit. She dashed the tears away before they fell. "All I know, is that night at Poor Richards...I knew I was taking a chance. I knew Roy could either say ‘ok' or he could decide not to forgive me...either decision - I was ok with...I...I knew that seeing the two of us at work together would eat away at him though...I knew eventually he wouldn't be able to deal. And that might sound...I don't know what that makes me. Maybe it makes me a bad person...and believe I didn't realize he'd react quite the way that he did...but I did it. I told him...I told him because it mattered. Because you and me - mattered...because it wasn't some stupid 4th of July kiss brought on by hurt feelings and too much beer."

Jim stepped around the cart and pulled her close, his hand slipping around to the back of her neck. Not drunk. It DID matter. They were all the words he needed to hear. Everything about her...everything about them...

This was what he wanted - to be at the grocery store with her, buying ice cream. Everything he wanted was right here.

He pressed a kiss against her forehead and pulled back after a moment. "Such a hussy..."

She giggled and he kissed her again. "You wanna go get in the car?...I'll finish the rest of our list."

"Really?" She asked beaming up at him. He brushed at the corners of her eyes with his thumbs.

"Yeah....Don't want you making out with Lou while I'm in frozen foods."

"Ok..." Pam said smiling as she grabbed her purse out of the cart and started backing away. "But if he tries to make out with you...tell him easy on the tongue - he's kinda messy."

Jim shook his head, ignoring that one. "Do we need fabric softener?"

"Yes, please."

PILLOW TALK

"Oh...here's these," Jim said plunking down an old beat up tool box on the dining room table.

Pam glanced up from her sketching, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "What's that?"

"Oh...those are hammers Pam," he said opening up the box. "See?"

Sure enough, the entire tool box was full of nothing but hammers. Small hammers, big hammers, old hammers, new hammers....

"Yeah...I....why exactly?" Pam said looking up at him. "Did...are we hanging something?"

"Oh...um - not sure. You told me not to forget them...though. So...here they are."

Pam's frown lines deepened. "I never said anything about hammers....I don't need any hammers."

"Hmm..." Jim said sitting down next to her. "Well I thought that you did...I mean because you've told me every night for the past week....not to forget the hammers. So...I figured you really needed them for something. Not sure what....Maybe you planned on hanging some new art...can't be sure. Anyway --  just knew that you desperately needed hammers. So...here," he said lifting the lid of the tool box again with a smile. "Hammers."

Pam continued to look at him as if he'd lost his mind. So he had to do it....Had to.

Jim pulled a small tape recorder out of his jean pocket, pushed the play button and grinned. "Oh yeah...this part is good-

"What?"

But Pam quickly quieted. She realized that she was listening to the sound of her own muffled voice requesting hammers quite plainly...and quite adamantly.

"Right...yeah," Jim was saying in response to the tape. "See...hammers...oh yeah, this is the part where you told me if I didn't get them you'd kick my ass."

"Oh my God!" Pam said gasping as she leaned closer. It was true!

Jim bit down on his lip to keep from laughing at her expression. "Yeah...really violent.......A little afraid that you might actually -

"Sssh," Pam said shushing him. She leaned in even closer to hear the tape and Jim smiled. The tape recorded Pam was currently reading him the riot act about hammers and their need for them. Why didn't they have them in the first place?  

Jim leaned back a bit in his seat, and Pam pulled his wrist closer in order to hear every word.  

"See...so demanding," Jim whispered as the tape played on.

Pam giggled, "Oh my God...What the heck am I talking about?...I didn't know that I did that..."

Jim frowned for a moment. How could she possibly not know that she...

He put that question back to bed before it ever completely rose. He probably already knew the answer anyway, right? It wasn't like Roy was the most attentive guy in the world.

Jim licked his lips and put his other hand on the table. He wove his fingers through hers. "Ok...but listen...the funniest part is coming up...you literally turned to me - eyes wide open and told me I needed to go and get them...Pam it was the craziest thing. I totally thought you were awake!"

"Oh my God...No way. That could not have possibly happened! "

Pam guffawed at the expression on Jim's face as he went on... "Oh but it did Pam...so then I turn to you and say ‘Pam I am not going to the hardware store at 3 a.m....and then...

And then she heard it; her own voice via tape recorder, saying ‘Kiss my ass.'

Pam gasped and covered her mouth.

"How do you think I felt?"

Pam leaned forward and draped her arms around his neck. Laughing even as she said, "Oh my God...I'm so sorry..."

"Well yeah...I can see how broken up you are..." Jim was saying as he pulled away.

"I don't know what to say," Pam said, unable to stop her laughter.

Jim started laughing too. Her happiness was the most contagious disease. "Say you know what the heck were gonna do with all these hammers!"

"I have no idea..." Pam said, crying now.

Jim took a deep breath and glanced at the box. "Well you better come up with something Beesly, ‘cause I'm not taking all these back to the store."

"God if I had known you'd buy me things that I talked about in my sleep I would have demanded diamonds."

Jim licked his lips and just stared at her for a moment. Silence hung in the air far longer than it should have. 

Pam looked away first. Trained her eyes on the tool box..."I think I'll start demanding all kinds of things in my sleep."

Jim cleared his throat. Diamonds? An entirely different kind of box...

"Fancy New Beesly...making demands," he said finally, propping his chin on his hand. "Like what?"

"Hmm...I could start demanding sex."

"Interesting. I can readily supply an entire box of that."

"You don't have to go the hardware store for it?" Pam said giggling at her own attempt at a ‘that's what she said' kind of joke.

Jim shook his head. "So lame."

HOUSEHOLD PETS

"And this is Shiner...I'm sure Jim's told you all about him...He brought that mangled cat home one day...God I think he was 12 years old at the most...and we had him forever. That cat," Larissa said sighing in disbelief. "Wow...you wouldn't have ever thought it would have lived longer than a few hours. Poor thing...somebody had really done a number on him. Jimmy saved him...."

"Aww, Jimmy," Pam said, a smile on her face.

Jim shook his head at her and then up at the ceiling. His eyes stayed there for a few moments and Pam leaned towards Larissa. The older woman reminded her so much of her own mother it was a little scary. They'd only been around each other a few times now, but every single time Pam had felt at home and every single time she felt like she got to know not only Larissa better - but Jim.

Jimmy. The name made her smile for some reason. Though she did hate it when people called her Pammy...so after this evening, she'd lay off - she promised.

No really - she would.

"He's always been very modest about it," Larissa said smiling at her son, before turning to the next page of the old photo album. It was yet another full page spread of Shiner.

There were a couple of shots with Shiner and Jim or Jonathan. It was amazing how much blonder Jim had been as a kid. And all legs....so geeky and beautiful.

She put her hand on his knee, and he glanced down at it and then into her eyes. He smiled at her and laced his fingers with hers.

"Oh that Shiner...miracle really." Jonathan said shaking his head from the Lazy Boy on the other side of the coffee table.

Pam had forgotten Jonathan was there for a moment. It was so weird...with Roy, she'd always been acutely aware of extra members of his family in the room. With Jim it was completely different...they all just seemed like an extension of someone she was already so comfortable with...

Larissa looked up at Jonathan. "He really was, wasn't he?"

Jonathan nodded and covered his mouth, but Pam could tell he was hiding a smirk behind his hand.

"What happened again Jim?" Jonathan said continuing. "You just...found Shiner? Like...in the bushes near the basketball court at Highhill Park right?"

Jim licked his lips. "Yep."

What was that? That shift in his eyes? The way he looked down...he was purposely avoiding eye contact with Jonathan and suddenly her...

Ok, so she was missing something. Something really good. Something their mother didn't know.

Larissa looked up from her gentle perusal of the album and straight into Jim's eyes. "Really?...I thought you found Shiner behind your friend Sal's house...Sal's mom said they couldn't keep him because Sal was allergic to cats?..."  

"Oh..." Jim said licking his lips again. That was a time buyer - a nervous tick - an anxious habit...Pam had figured that one out. 

"Oh yeah," Jim continued. "No, that...we actually found a rabbit back there once and his mom wouldn't let him have it...allergies," Jim said, with a slight shrug.

Pam looked at Jim, pursed her lips and nodded slightly. Oh really? You are such a liar, Halpert.

Larissa sighed. "Must be getting old...can't even remember stories I've told a thousand times anymore...I'm gonna check on that roast, guys. I'll be back in a minute."

"Larissa, would you like some help in the kitchen?"

"Oh no honey, I'll be back in a flash, you just sit and chat with the boys...wine?"

Pam nodded. "Yes please."

"I'd like some too mom," Jonathan called as Larissa walked towards the kitchen.

"Well you've got two legs honey...come on in and get some."

"Jeez..." Jonathan said grinning. He looked at Jim as soon as their mom disappeared.

Pam squinted from one brother to the next, glanced at the sorry excuse for a cat that glared back at her from the old photos. His fir was matted, a black circle surrounded his eye. That she could only assume was why he'd gotten the name ‘Shiner.'

"So what's the story on old Scraggly?"

"Shiner," Jim said quickly.

"Uhuh...Shiner, Scraggly...what happened?"

Jim shrugged. "Just...yeah...found him. Brought him home."

Jonathan covered his mouth, shook his head.

Jim glared at him. "Wow...really. You're a -

Pam reached out to pinch Jim and he shifted away, stopping mid insult. Jonathan started to laugh.

"Ok, ok...sssh...listen," Jim said then, quieting them down. "Ok, I'm not proud of this alright?"

"Uhoh..."

"He's actually gonna tell her..." Jonathan said leaning back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Excellent...this has never happened before."

"Shut up.......Ok, so listen, my stupid friend Sal -

"Oh blame it on Sal," Jonathan said shaking his head. "Nice."

"Seriously?...Don't you have magazines you need to get rid of in the basement  -

"Oh my God, just tell me," Pam said interrupting.

Jim sighed. "Sal found this cat...I don't know where - I think the basketball court at Highhill...this park we used to go to like...all the time...but Sal was weird....he always wanted to ‘experiment' on things."

"Oh no."

Jim held up a finger, "Ah -

"Sorry...go," Pam said folding her hands in her lap and sitting up primly. "I won't judge you."

"Oooh," Jonathan said shaking his head. "I'd reserve the right to judge if I were you, Pam."

"Uh well you're not her...so shut it," Jim said. "Alright so me and Sal and a bunch of other guys are supposed to go riding our bikes up at HighHill, but Sal comes with this stupid cat...and the cat already looked like hell ok, let's just....get that out there. It already looked like hell."

Pam giggled.

"Oh man..." Jonathan said shaking his head.

"So anyway, the park...there's this bridge."

"Oh. My. God."

"See...that, Pam...I'm not gonna tell you because of that."

"No, stop. I'm sorry...really," she said leaning into his arm. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and dissolved into giggles..."Finish telling me how you tortured this poor cat."

"I didn't torture a cat! Sal threw the cat off the bridge because he wanted to see if it would land on its feet...that was his experiment."

By this time Jonathan was turning bright red from the effort of holding in his laughter, and Pam doubled over. She blinked several times, clearing away tears, "That's horrible."

"I....stop......The cat landed...not on it's feet......and I went down and got the cat."

"Like 30 minutes later," Jonathan muttered not quite under his breath.

"Bastard," Jim said blandly.

"It's true!" Jonathan said.

"What the hell...Sal and those guys would have ripped me to shreds for being a candy ass. The minute we walked back to the basketball court, I told them I had to go early because my mom wanted me to go run errands with her -

"Which didn't make him sound candy ass at all."

"ANYWAY...I left, got the cat, and brought him back here. I couldn't tell my mom that Sal tossed him off a bridge or that I watched, so I made up this story about finding him that way...and like I said - he was pretty messed up already."

"Well that's comforting," Pam said shaking her head.

"The cat had a broken leg," Jonathan supplied. "Mom took him to the vet, got him all healed up. We had the cat forever....and the weirdest thing was, that freaking cat went to Jim more than anybody else...Made no sense."

Pam pulled Jim close, even when he tried pulling away as a punishment for her giggles. "No...it makes sense...it's because you saved him."

"Yeah, yeah..." Jim said shaking his head. "You're not invited back here by the way."

"Yes she is," Jonathan said. "Pam you're welcome like any time you want."

"This is mom's house...he doesn't really have that authority," Jim said, unable to finish the sentence with a straight face.

"Are you breaking up with me again?" Pam asked in pure delight.

"God...So tired of having to break up with you every week."

"And then I just sit on your doorstep...like a...like a cat," she said in a fit of giggles again. Jonathan reached over the table to high-five her and Jim stood up.

"How old are you?......Ridiculous..."

"Dinner's ready!"

Pam stood up, grabbing Jim's hand as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Jonathan kept laughing as Larissa peaked out from the kitchen.

"Jim...if you could carve the roast that'd be great...just...please...try not to throw it off the table ok?"

The room erupted with laughter and Jim shook his head. "Wow...that's...thanks mom....Does childbirth mean nothing anymore?"

Larissa passed a glass of red wine to Pam and her hand settled for a moment on her shoulder. Pam felt it drop, brush against the ends of her hair. The loveliest sense of déjà vu settled over her. Like maybe this was all meant to be. Like she'd felt this way before, as part of her own family and now she was part of another that was just as perfect...

Larissa was muttering something about Jim and his brother being the world's worst whisperers as they moved into the kitchen.

Yeah...perfect.

“I’m just saying…You had to think that was weird.” Jim said, gesturing by pulling one hand off the steering wheel.

“Jim…stop! You totally liked the movie. I liked the movie…and now you’re ruining it.”

“Yes, you are! You do this every time…you pick it apart and then I can’t like it anymore!...and I’m sorry…but the movie was about cars that turn into robots…how can you pick out that one scene as weird?”

Going to see a movie with Jim was fun for a lot of reasons and had been since the beginning of their relationship. They got to snuggle, they had no shame about their 10 year old concession habits or giggling habits, and they very much liked the same kinds of movies. The bad part about going to see a movie with Jim was…

“All I’m saying is it was weird for them to be making out on the hood of a car that was alive seconds before. And equally weird that all the other Autobots were watching…auto voyeurism…that’s all…I never played with my Transformers that way…”

“See! Now I’m never going to be able to watch that movie again!”

“Pam, it’s the last scene of the movie…you can still watch it.”

“No. You totally ruined it…and it was a totally hot scene.”

Jim was quiet for a rather long moment. He licked his lips and glanced at her, watching the glow of the street lamps flicker across her cheeks. “Seriously?”

“Yeah…why,” Pam asked, and when he glanced again he could see the blush slip up her neck, to her cheeks. “I mean…I don’t know…yeah.”

God, she couldn’t believe she’d just said that…out loud.

“But now…you know…now it’s ruined,” Pam said, sighing dramatically. “Now I can’t think it’s hot anymore right? Because it’s ‘weird’ and you mocked it.”

“No. No…I wasn’t mocking sex on the hood of a car at all –

“All they did was make-out.”

“Well…I’m…I think it was an interesting layer Pam – I do.”

Pam turned to him and giggled. “This is a Saab.”

“See…that’s,” Jim shook his head. “Thank you Pam…and I’m the one that ruins things?”

"What the hell are those?"

Pam followed Jim's gaze down to her feet. "Oh....these are my toe socks....cute right?"

"I'm sorry?" Jim said glancing up quickly from her socks. He met her eyes for only a moment though before training them on the socks again. "I...do not...like....those."

"Oh, stop...they're quirky," Pam said, wiggling her toes this time. Each little toe covered in it's own thick envelope of yarn.

Last winter when Pam had spent night after night alone in the midst of a severe cold spell, her mom had bought her a little something to cheer her up...toe socks. They were the perfect solution to popsicle toes.

"Those are...those are way freakier than any baby poster Angela's ever owned."

"Hey!" Pam said frowning.

"No...seriously, Pam - No!" He said yanking his leg away from her when she wiggled her toes towards him. He wouldn't have jerked away any more violently if she'd thrown a tarantula at him. She smiled a bit sadistically and her toes crept a bit closer.

"Stop...no....really...Pam!"  Jim spat, pushed parallel to the very edge of their bed.

"Oh my God, you're so weird..." Pam said giggling. "They're not that bad."

"Pam...they make your toes look like entities unto themselves."

"You never had a problem with my toes before, did you?"

"Your toes Pam...I think your toes are very cute...But not these...things. They gotta go."

"Ok, you're being silly...you know that...."

"Oh...I'm sorry, I'm being silly?...Pam, one of your toes is dressed like Santa, one like Rudolph, one like an elf, one like the Grinch -

"And one cried, ‘wee-wee-wee', all the way home," Pam said interrupting his speech and wiggling her baby toe, precariously close to his leg.

Jim shook his head. "That's....no...."

"Oh my God," Pam said giggling again. "You're really freaked out by them?"

"Uh that's what I've been trying to tell you..."

"Aw....I'm sorry," Pam said doing her best to squelch her smile. She pulled her feet back towards her own side of the bed and  pushed herself up so that she was sittng on her heels (her feet completely out of sight) and tried to pull him close. "Come here -

He fidgeted oddly in her arms, "Uh....no...see...you gotta take the socks off first...then...you know. That's when this," he said gesturing between them, "Is fine."

Pam shook her head. "Jim, it's time you got over your fear."

"Nope, not a fear. Just don't like them...and there will be zero physicality until you take them off and put them somewhere...somewhere I've never seen before."

"Did you just say physicality?" Pam said smiling.

"I'm serious."

"Jim...Jim," she said when he started to shake his head at the tone of her voice. "You need to face this.  I'll help you."

"No...don't want help."

"Jim...We'll do this together...you don't have to deal with this problem on your own anymore. You have me now."

"I don't have a problem," Jim said shaking his head. "Just take them off....and the problem goes away...just - real quickly."

Pam sighed and shook her head. She was not giving in. Fancy New Beesly was keeping her socks.

"This clearly calls for desperate measures...when people have an irrational fear like this they just have to jump right in...it's the only way."

"I'm not wearing your socks Pam."

"That's...." Pam shook her head. "That's not what I'm suggesting."

"Good...You're suggesting you burn them and that I never see them again...ever? Awesome.........What're you doing -

What she wasn't doing, was taking off her socks.  Instead, she seemed to be removing everything else...her little pajama shorts, tank top, underwear...each item was flung to the farthest reaches of their bedroom.

Jim swallowed...his eyes caught in a heated debate between the socks that he abhorred and the body he adored beyond measure.

"That is not....fair."

"The socks stay on Jim...it's time to conquer your fear."

And he did.

Several times.

"Wow...really?" Jim said tugging off his tennis shoes.

Pam looked up from where she'd been re-tucking the blanket beneath their mattress. "Oh...no," she said shaking her head, a shy smile on her face as she blew her bangs away. "I just...I just like to do this."

"Hmm...that's interesting. I mean I made the bed this morning before I went to the game...and now - now you're making it again?....Did you take a nap, Pam?"

"No...I just..." she shrugged innocently. "It's just fun."

"Oh...it's just fun?" Jim said, mimicking her shrug. "How's that exactly?"

"Well...I mean no...just if - just if it's a little...wonky."

"Wonky?"

"No, I mean the blanket was like peaking out from underneath the comforter...you see how it's supposed to like meet the edge of the bed skirt?" Pam said demonstrating. "So if the blanket is covering the...what?" She said pausing at the expression of amusement on his face. "This is not a thing!"

"Oh no Pam, it is most definitely a thing."

"No!"

"No yeah...absolutely it's a thing...listen, we have to be honest with one another. It was your idea to start the list of things that we find weird about one another...which...is also a thing, by the way...I mean the list.......way weird."

"I hate you."

"No...it's ok though. Because I know now that you are really, really weird when it comes to the bed....Hospital corners at all times - I get it."

Pam pushed her tongue into her cheek and stood to her full height. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Ok well, I wouldn't have to do this if you had just made it the right way in the first place...I'm just saying."

"Total freak."

Pam gasped.

"No...I mean, the bed was perfectly acceptable to everyday standards."

"What the heck are everyday standards?"

"The standards Pam. The standards of acceptable bed making quality, set forth by the Committee for Household Chore Practices and Standards."

Pam giggled. "I didn't realize there was such a committee."

"Then how on Earth can you possibly know that you're bed making skills are up to code?"

"I know what this bed is not up to code for anymore...and that's me having sex with you."

Jim licked his lips, folded his arms across his chest on the opposite side of the bed. "Oh...really? Would you rather we do it in the kitchen? That's interesting Pam....not sure how I feel about that  - sharp utensils, open flame...but still - I'm flexible."

She tried not to grin. Succeeded in suppressing it. "No...that's not exactly what I meant -

"The bathroom?....Kinda cramped," Jim said grimacing.

"No -

"Living room? Oh right...you like to do it when Larry King is on....so weird,"  Jim added quietly. "Makes me feel dirty."

"Shut up!" Pam said, losing it then and dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"No Pam, come on....it's ok," he said rounding the bed then. She tried to move away but he closed the gap quickly. He made a grab for her. "Everybody gets turned on by different things..." she dodged him, jumped to the side, but he blocked her from moving to the other side of the bed. "No really...it's ok."

She looked around - tried exiting to the side once more... "I'm sorry, where were you trying to go?" Jim said grinning. "Because I'm pretty sure you can't move..."

She squealed, as he trapped her against it. The backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed behind her. It was a dare. She knew it...

"You could go around the bed," Jim continued to taunt her. Payback for her ‘making' him get over his toe-sock phobia. "Oh...but no you can't because I'm trapping you...hmm....wow -  di-lem-ma."

Pam whipped around suddenly and in a bold moved, climbed up on top of the bed, mussing the comforter she'd just spent smoothing out.

"Oh my God Pam! You're totally messing up the bed! What the hell are we gonna do now!" Jim yelled.

Feeling daring and startlingly crazy about him, suddenly she was jumping on it...over and over again like a little kid.

"Pam...Pam stop it. Pam...did you pay no attention to the monkies at all?.....Pam, if you don't stop...Listen, I'm going to have to come up there and there's no telling what I'll do...seriously Pam - stop."

She shook her head. "Make me."

"Unacceptable," Jim said on a sigh of disappointment. "Pam...this is going to hurt me a lot more than it's going to hurt you..." and then he followed her up on top of the bed, capturing her around the waist. Squealing and laughter followed quickly....

Whispers and sighs followed later...because Jim didn't do much jumping. He just touched her a lot...stroked...kissed...ignited...

After awhile the bed became very, very messy...and it was the weirdest thing - Pam didn't seem to mind.

I LOVE... EVERYTHING

"Uh-oh...You don't look so good."

Jim stumbled across the threshold, barely making it to the couch. He fell face first into the cushions.  His feet dangled towards the carpet at an odd angle.

"I've been poisoned."

The words were muffled and Pam smiled knowingly as she neared the couch. "Pretty sure you're just drunk."

Pam pulled off his black baseball cap and ran her fingers through his sweaty hair. "Are you gonna be sick?" she asked, crouching down on the carpet to untie his shoes. "I've never seen Jim Halpert like this..."

"No......I wish...It usually just stays inside and makes me feel terrible....How was your night?....Did you have a good chick-flick marathon?...I wish I woulda stayed home...home, home, home...hmmmm..."

It was the first time she'd ever seen him like this. Was it possible that he could remain Mr. Sensitive and Caring, even when bombed out of his mind?  That wasn't possible, right?

Soon he'd be yelling, doing a little cursing, apologizing profusely and then coming on to her in a truly obnoxious way. Then after all that he'd pass out. Right? That was the way things went with drunk boyfriends...

"So you and Marc had a good time?...Turn over," Pam said, instructing him. Jim covered his eyes with his forearm and did as he was told....slowly.

"I hate Marc...I hate good times," Jim slurred. "Why did he do this to me?"

"It really blows when friends pry your mouth open and pour beer down your throat...I know."

Jim giggled. Yes, giggled. "Beesly..."

.

She waited for him to finish his sentence but nothing ever came. So, she laughed at him.

"I love you Pam...I love your laugh...I love your...everything," He said gesturing wildly. "Everything is so...great."

"I love you too, Jim...let's get these off of you, huh?" she said unzipping and then starting valiantly to tug at his jeans. Quite the challenge on such a long pair of legs that weren't really cooperating with her.

"I think I'm gonna need your help here, Lohan." She said looking up at him, but he suddenly wasn't smiling anymore. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, but his voice sounded like the weight of the world was suddenly on his shoulders.

"Do I need to grab a bucket?" Pam asked, starting to get to her feet...

"No...just what you said," he sighed. "You know how...sometimes you say something and then it reminds you of something you said before or someone else said before....It just reminded me of something you said before...to Roy...once...."

Pam glanced up as she finally managed his jeans past his feet.  She hadn't been expecting that...

His fingertips pulled at some loose threads on the couch, but he kept missing them, his eyes unfocused.

Whatever it was he wanted to talk about, he hadn't felt able to when he wasn't inebriated.  She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but she bit the bullet anyway.

"...Yeah?..."

"You said you wanted to get him into a tub....that was the worst."

Oh.

"The worst, the worst, the worst..." Jim seemed to mumble to himself.  "I hated that."

If she didn't remember exactly what he was talking about, she might've laughed at his child-like tone. But she did remember.  Who could forget such a strategic maneuver?

A basketball game, a co-worker she'd found incredibly hot on and off the court, a desperate attempt to remind herself that she was going home with the guy on the other team...a last ditch effort to make sure Jim knew she wasn't interested...not in the slightest.  Beyond eager to convince herself of the same thing...

Yeah...She was taking her man home...for a bath.  Pam looked down at Jim as she sat on the edge of the couch, her fingers toying with his hair. Like a sweaty haired little kid...

"I'm sorry."

Jim looked at her, smiled suddenly. It was the oddest transition in expressions and it made her heart swell.

"Is'sok," he mumbled, reaching for her hair.  His fingertips fiddled with the ends. "I bought you something s..sostupid that weekend."

She felt herself smile as she lay her head on his chest. "At the outlet mall?...What did you get me?"

"Stuuupid."

"I know," she said letting her finger trail back and forth along his bicep. "Tell me anyway."

He started cracking up. "A pair of Keds."

She grinned at him and then pushed herself to her knees, pressing a kiss to his chin.  "How did you know my size?"

"Oh...I knew a lot of very pathetic things Pam...."

A weekend at the lake that had been fun enough...but in the back of her mind she'd still been wondering what it would have been like to have spent the weekend with someone else.  She'd allowed herself to dwell on those thoughts only when Roy had been in the lake with his brother. Only when she'd been on the shore, pretending to read a book. That had made it ok at the time...She'd never allowed herself to dwell when Roy was actually talking to her, touching her...

Her eyes traveled over Jim's long frame on the couch because now...now she could dwell all she wanted. She allowed her eyes to linger on what she knew was beneath the Sixers t-shirt that he wore, the white boxer briefs....

"Halpert?"

"Yeah..."

"...I think we need to get you in bed."

"So you can take advantage of me?..."

"Definitely maybe," She said smiling. "You're pretty sexy right now."

Jim licked his lips. "K...but you're gonna have to do all the work."

Pam sighed in exasperation. "Fax this invoice Pam, take off my pants Pam...my work is never done."

"You have to kiss me first," Jim said tapping his finger to his lips. "I like kissing....and remember I'm not easy."

"So this is what happens when you're drunk? You kinda turn into a girl?"

"No...the last time I got this drunk, I broke some things...it was very manly."

"Oh yeah? What'd you break?....Lift up," she said. He followed her instruction to sit up even as he talked...

"That fucking band...the Fray...I hate that band."

"Raise your arms," Pam said, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

"My sister bought the CD for me though......every fucking song on it reminded me of you...Over and over again I played it....So one night...in Stamford...like when I first moved there, there it was," he said staring up at the ceiling. The oddest expression of wonderment at his own memory settled across his features. "I pulled it out of my box of CDs and I took it into the kitchen and then..." he started laughing so hard, she could barely make out his next words. "I went back upstairs and got my toolbox...a hammer...then I came down and beat the shit out of it."

Pam nodded slowly, letting that sink in. "...You wanna break something tonight?" She said, tears suddenly shining in her eyes. She dashed them away. "I've got a couple of CD's you can pound the shit out of if you want...."

He frowned and sunk down on the couch again, turning towards her.  His frown morphed into a smile as he reached out for her hair again, twirling a curl around his finger. "No...I don't want to break anything...I'm too happy."

God. She smiled at him, leaned into his hand when he touched her cheek. Pulled his fingers to her lips and pressed a kiss to each knuckle.

"Pam...you're so beautiful...Do you know? I just..." he sighed, seemingly overwhelmed with it. "I can't even think...what to..."

"Oh my goodness..." Pam said shaking her head. She could've passed it off as just the liquor talking, but she knew it wasn't. She knew he really felt that way...the liquor had just loosened his tongue a little.  He said things like that when he was stone sober too, but typically not with this much abandon.

"...Can you walk?" She asked standing up and dabbing quickly at the corners of her eyes.

"I think so," Jim sighed, standing up wobbly.

So adorable.  It was a thought she had never once had about Roy when he was drunk.

He leaned against her as they walked towards their bedroom. Jim sat down slowly on the bed, and then rolled into his place.

"I hate.......this is why I don't...." he never finished his sentence. He just became very interested in snuggling with his pillow.

"I'm gonna just grab you some Advil and a tall glass of water...and then I'm going to come back and touch you in your private areas...Our little secret, Jim...ok?"

"Yeah," he said mumbling into his pillow. "Water...and secrets...Wow, I love this pillow, Pam. You pick the best......You're the best roommate I ever had......no poison...just sex."

"Win-win."

"Win," Jim mumbled.

Pam pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'll be right back."

--------------------------------------------------------------

A HAPPY TUNE

Pam giggled, turning her face to his bare chest.

He shifted slowly out of that place of half-asleep. Where he still felt the weight of her body atop his, his skin still held the tingly recollection of her touch.

Jim's voice was deep and gravelly, "That's a new reaction post-sex, Beesly..."

"I'm sorry....it's just..." Pam couldn't get the words out for all her laughter.

He blinked a few times. "Wow. I didn't think I had that fragile of an ego...but I gotta say, I'm feeling a little inadequate right now, Pam...so...thank you."

She pressed a kiss to his ribs. "I........you were doing that thing again....with the..." she laughed again.

"Seriously? Oh that? Yeah that's funny."

Pulling away completely, Pam buried her head in her pillow.

"Oh my God...Beesly, don't hyperventilate...Are you...what?" Jim said, reaching up to turn on the lamp on his nightstand. He noticed for the first time, that she was completely red.

"The thing...the thing....where you hum a little tune after we have sex...I just figured out what it is."

"Stop...what are you talking about?"

"You hum a song..."

"No," Jim said shaking his head. "I do not hum a song, Pam."

"I finally figured out what the tune is - all this time..."

"Oh wow. That's interesting - seeing as I don't hum anything."

"No...you do...It's Back in Black...by AC/DC."

"Shut up. I do not."

She lost it then. She was literally going to hyperventilate.

Jim sat up in bed. "Are you finished?"

There were words somewhere...buried between the giggle fit. "Jim...why would I make up that you hum AC/DC after we have sex?"

"Oh. Because you like to make up stories Pam...and this...is a made up story."

"If I was making this up, I'd say that you were humming something sweet...something like..." she started giggling mid sentence, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. "Something like...It's a Small World, or - "

Jim's eyebrows shot upwards. "Seriously?"

"Not like that!" She exclaimed, realizing the implication of the song title.

"Pam, I wasn't humming anyway -

"You were! I heard it!" Pam said, finishing through grit teeth.

"I don't even know the words to that song."

"That's why you were humming it...just the guitar riff...you keep going back to that part...until you fall asleep."

"That's ridiculous."

"Jim...It's one of the best songs in rock n' roll history according to VH1...Don't be ashamed."

"Oh, I'm not Pam. I'm just...never having sex with you again...that's all."

"No....you will," Pam said softly, smiling as she lay a hand on his chest. She rubbed slowly. "But it's ok...I'll let you pretend you really mean that....besides, maybe it wasn't you? I mean it was a guitar riff....maybe it was Philly Jim I was having sex with and not Scranton Jim."

"I can not believe you."

"What about you?" Pam asked grinning. "I'm supposed to be ok with you thinking about a band full of guys after we have sex?"

"That's not what I was thinking -

"What's the significance of that song, Jim?" She asked, with a voice that was quiet and stoic. "Tell me about it ...Tell me about how you used to touch yourself when you heard it."

"God...so immature, right now."

"If you'd hum something operatic maybe I'd be more mature."

"That song...." He paused mid-sentence. "Forget it."

"No! What?" Pam said propping her chin on his chest. He was blushing, she was giddy. "What? You have to tell me now! I'm sorry, Jim!"

He licked his lips nervously. "I think I hum that song when I'm like...happy. Like...really happy."

Pam smiled softly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Jim sighed. "One time....Dwight told me that that wasn't the way the song went....We were like on the way back to the office after my first big sale...and I never thought about it again, until the day of the New York interview...When I asked you out.....Steve - the camera guy that day? He filmed some stuff right after I asked you out...you know...like me walking out to the parking lot...he turned off the camera when I got in the car and said.... ‘AC/DC fan huh? Rock on'."

Pam nodded slowly, doing a horrible job at suppressing a smile. "I'm right up there with making a big sale, huh?"

Jim pulled his lips to one side, squinted. "Close second."

"I hate you." Pam said turning her back to him.

"Oh what are you doing, Pam?...Come here," Jim said smiling as he pulled her close, his hands on her shoulders.

Pam felt his laughter vibrate through her when their skin touched and thought about how completely delicious he was.

"I'm never having sex with you again...I mean just so you know," she said turning to him. But even as she said it, she leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Oh...see...Pam, that's a mixed message. Be careful."

"Message?" She said, pouting in confusion as she reached below the sheets, grabbing hold of....well, it was just the first thing her hand came in contact with. Completely on accident of course.

"Pam...I don't think you understand how ‘no sex' works."

"Sometimes I'm stupid," she said with a shrug. "Maybe it would help me if you hummed something. I'm kind of an auditory learner."

"Maybe it would help if you hummed something."

"That's appalling Jim...but ok."

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