Whisk Me Away by MrsKHalpert, Yellowberry22
Summary: A weekend away with a colleague that wasn't quite what Pam was expecting.
Categories: Jim and Pam, Alternate Universe Characters: Jim, Jim/Pam, Pam, Toby
Genres: Fluff, Oneshot
Warnings: Mild sexual content
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 2 Completed: Yes Word count: 12456 Read: 2215 Published: April 11, 2022 Updated: April 11, 2023
Story Notes:

Happy birthday Warrior! We really hope you enjoy this birthday fluff, and that we got it vaguely accurate for you.

We don't own anything here, but YB does in fact own an alcohol intolerance.

1. Chapter 1 by MrsKHalpert

2. Chapter 2 by MrsKHalpert

Chapter 1 by MrsKHalpert

Pam Beesly sat at the reception desk of Dunder Mifflin, as she usually did each day at 11am, staring at the empty desk in front of her whilst eating her mixed berry yoghurt. She'd already finished three sudoku's, four games of Freecell and had written out her shopping list for later: jelly beans, grape soda, sliced cheese, fabric softener. Even though Dwight was sitting at his desk directly in front of her, he rarely spoke to her outside of various commands. 

"Pamela, please fax this immediately."

"I require three copies of this expense report."

"Michael would like you to get him a triple caramel mocha latte with extra cream and cinnamon right now."

So right now, Pam was bored. She wished there was someone to joke around with, someone to make the time in this office go a little faster, someone that she could call a friend. She looked around the bullpen, weighing up her options of who she could call a friend.

Dwight - only sees me as a receptionist, and he just smells of beets

Stanley - we could discuss puzzles maybe

Phyllis - motherly, but overbearing and just wants to talk about Bob Vance, Vance Refrigeration

Andy - rit dit dit di no

Meredith - possibly on a night out, if I've had a couple of glasses of wine

Creed - just, no

Michael - he seems desperate to be friends, I'm not sure how many times I can turn down his invitations to his improv class, or to visit his grandmother, or to go to Hooters

Oscar - he's actually kind of ok, as long as we don't end up discussing...anything

Kevin - stares at my boobs too much

Angela - too judgemental

Kelly - good in small quantities. Very small quantities

Toby - I guess he's... oh wait, why is he coming over here?

"Hey Pam," Toby said as he approached the reception desk with a large smile on his face.

"Oh hey Toby," Pam said, snapping herself out of her daydream. "What's up?"

"I just won a competition on Froggy 101!" he exclaimed, if what Toby looked like exclaiming something could be described as. Maybe slightly loudly announced fit better. 

"Oh wow, congratulations Toby! That's awesome. I'm really happy for you," Pam said, with genuine excitement in her voice. "What did you win?"

"I won a whiskey tasting experience. There's a distillery that just opened up another location over by Big Boulder Mountain," Toby explained.

"Oh wow that's cool," she smiled. "My dad was really into whiskey growing up, but I didn't really know too much. He'd never let me drink it when I was younger, and then when I was with Roy, they just drank together. But that's awesome, I'm really happy for you."

"Would you, I mean, um," Toby stammered, his face turning red. "The experience is for two people, would you, um, would you want to go with, uh, me?"

Pam felt slightly nervous. She liked Toby well enough, possibly the most out of anyone in the office, but she'd suspected for a little while that he might have a crush on her. If she accepted his invitation, especially where a lot of alcohol would be involved, would he think it would mean something more than two colleagues hanging out? She realised that she must have been overthinking this for a little while, as Toby was standing in front of her looking pale and shifting from foot to foot.

"It's um, next weekend, April 11th. It's an overnight stay, but I'm sure we can arrange, uh, two rooms," Toby said, trying to fill the silence. "I think the place overlooks the lake, and there's activities to do in the day as well, but um, if you don't want to, it's..."

"Um, no," Pam interrupted. "It would be great to go with you, thank you for inviting me." What have I got to lose? Pam thought, it'll be nice to do something different for once, and maybe make that friend too.

--

The following weekend rolled around, and before Pam knew it, Toby was going to be picking her up in his car for the 45 minute drive over to the distillery on Big Boulder Mountain. Pam felt a little nervous being alone with Toby for that long, so had already pre-planned some car games to help pass the journey quicker, plus some snacks and music to help as well. She saw the silver-blue Saab pull up outside her house, grabbed her overnight bag and then walked out to his waiting car. She threw her bag into the back seat, before taking her seat up front next to Toby.

"Morning Toby," Pam said brightly.

"Hey Pam," Toby said, somewhat nervously.

As Toby put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb, Pam already felt the awkwardness in the car. She was about to suggest they play the first of her car games, the Number Plate Game, but she noticed the sweat marks on the steering wheel from where Toby's tight grip had shifted, and thought better of any game that involved punching him. Likewise, I Spy, was probably out too, as she didn't want his concentration wandering off of the road.

"Mind if I put some music on?" Pam asked, trying desperately to break the silence that was filling the car.

"Uh, yeah, ahem," Toby cleared his throat. "Sure, go ahead."

The journey continued in relative silence, Pam staring out of the window, and desperately trying not to notice the glances that Toby kept sending her way. Thankfully, there was little traffic on the way to the mountains, and they made it there pretty quickly. Pam took a huge breath of relief when she stepped out of the car, which Toby misinterpreted.

"Yeah, that fresh mountain air is something huh?" Toby smiled at her.

Pam tried to smile back, but felt a pulling in her stomach that told her she really shouldn't have agreed to this trip. What were you thinking? He clearly likes you more than just as a colleague. God this is going to be so awkward. 

Before Pam had too much time to think more about what she'd gotten herself into, an older woman and a younger guy walked out of the smaller of the two large wooden barns in front of them, down the gravel driveway and came over to greet Pam and Toby. 

"Hi there," the woman called out. "I'm Betsy, and this is my son Jim. Welcome to Warrior Liquor." Betsy extended her arms out, as if showcasing the distillery behind her, whilst Jim did a kind of half wave at Pam and Toby with his mouth pulled into a slight grin. 

Pam couldn't help but stare at Jim. He was tall, and was clearly hiding a lot of muscles under his dark blue, plaid shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his lightly tanned forearms. Pam's eyes took in his dark jeans and heavy tan hiking books, and it was only when she heard Toby say her name, that she snapped herself out of her Jim-induced trance. 

"Um, yeah I'm Pam," she stuttered, trying to regain a little composure in front of Jim. "Nice to meet you guys, this place looks awesome."

"We've just moved over from Spokane, Washington to set this place up. We've only been open two weeks, so bear with us this weekend as things are still a little new around here," Betsy explained. Toby and Pam nodded their heads. "Jim here is gonna be looking after you, so anything you need, just let him know." Pam turned to look at Jim as Betsy spoke, catching Jim's eye and causing him to snap his head down to look at his feet. "Jim, help them with their bags, please honey."

Jim moved to take Pam's bag from her, but accidentally brushed her fingers in the process. Pam felt the electricity jolt through her, and thought that she heard Jim's breath hitch ever so slightly at their touch. They pulled their hands away, and the bag fell to the floor. 

"I'm so sorry," Jim said.

"Oh, sorry," Pam said at the same time. 

Jim bent down to grab the bag again, and smiled up at Pam as his fair flopped forward. She smiled back at him, and gingerly tucked a loose curl behind her ear. 

"Do you want to take mine too?" Toby asked, breaking them out of their trance. 

"Oh, um, yeah sure man," Jim replied, as he reached out to grab Toby's bag. "Um, do you guys wanna follow me?"

Pam and Toby followed Jim through the double glass doors into the smaller wooden barn. They immediately felt the warmth of the building both in temperature and in the decor of their surroundings as they moved through the entrance hall and up some stairs to the upper floor. 

"So we've got five rooms here, and there's a couple of other guests here this weekend too. I saw on your notes that you need two rooms?" 

"Yup, we're definitely not together, so we definitely need the two rooms. We're definitely single, definitely not together," Pam spat out as quickly as she could. Jim smirked a little at this information, and Toby looked as though he'd been punched in the gut. 

"Ok so we've got one room here," Jim motioned with his hand. "Toby, was it?" Toby nodded. "Would you like this one? It's a little bigger and seeing as you won the competition, it seems fair."

"Oh, um, thanks. Although, Pam would you like it? Or you know if it's big, we could share?" Toby asked hopefully. 

"Oh no, that's ok, you go ahead," Pam replied. 

Toby's smile dropped. He took his bag from Jim and opened the door to the room. 

"Alright, one more flight I'm afraid, but I think it'll be worth it," Jim said. "Follow me."

They climbed up the next flight of stairs, before Jim opened the wooden door in front of him and motioned for Pam to head inside. 

"Oh wow," Pam breathed, as she entered the room. The shabby chic room was dominated by a comfy looking king bed, made up with crisp white sheets and huge pillows. White walls were adorned with a variety of watercolour paintings, and a deep red rug covered the wooden floors. A small table held a bottle of water and two glasses and was flanked by a pair of comfy looking brown leather chairs. As Pam looked up, she noticed string lights hanging from the beams of the attic style ceiling. But her focus was drawn to a pair of floor length white linen curtains, blowing gently in the breeze. She went over to them, and gently pulled one aside and walked out through the open French door onto a small terrace. Pam gasped at the view in front of her. Rolling green hills went on for as far as she could see, only to be punctuated by the ripples of Big Boulder Lake to her left and Lake Harmony to her right. The midday sun was hitting her face just so, making the cool spring day seem much warmer than it was. Pam was lost for words, just whispering "wow," again.

"Yeah, it's pretty special up here," Jim agreed. Pam turned to face him, appreciating how the sun was giving him a slight glow that made his green eyes shine even more than they had done when they first met. "I'm gonna head down to the distillery, but take your time and I'll see you later," he said with a smile that nearly melted Pam into the floorboards of the terrace.

Pam looked around at her surroundings again. The terrace held window boxes all along the top rail that were overflowing with fuchsia and white petunias, their sweet scent wafting over to Pam as she sat down at the small wrought iron table. She wished she'd brought her sketchpad with her to capture the beauty that lay in front of her, and also to help her memorise the sparkle of Jim's eyes and the way his mouth curled into a half smile, half smirk. Just as she felt herself getting lost in the memory of his musky-manly scent, with just a hint of fabric softener, that she'd smelled walking up the stairs behind him, there was a soft knock at the door. She sighed and went to answer it. Her face fell when she saw it was Toby.

"Hey Pam," Toby said, his face already visibly flushed. ‘Ready to go down and taste some whiskey?"

"Um, yeah sure," Pam weakly smiled.

--

They made their way down to the distillery in the larger barn and waited in the little lobby area for Jim. Out of the corner of her eye, Pam could see Toby opening and closing his mouth as if he was trying to work up the nerve to talk to her. She felt bad, she really did. Toby was a sweet guy, but she didn't want to lead him on, thinking that they were going to be more than friends. If he was able to get the sweating and blushing and general nervousness under control, then she felt like they'd be able to find things they had in common; she'd long suspected she'd be able to talk to him about art or music or books that she loved to read. But for now, she needed to quash whatever was bubbling in his mind in terms of ‘them.'

Before Toby was able to actually form a word, Jim appeared through a wooden archway and made his way over to them. "Hey guys, are you ready to start the tasting?" Toby and Pam nodded. "Alright, well then follow me." He turned and walked back through the arch, leading them into a huge room that seemed to take up most of the large barn and was full of different types of enormous equipment.

"Oh wow, what's that smell?" Pam said, covering her nose with her hand to stop the tangy, yeasty smell as much as she could.

"Yeah," Jim chuckled, "it can be a little intense on your first time in a distillery. That's the smell of the fermentation. You'll get used to it, don't worry," he smiled. He walked them over to the first piece of equipment. "Ok, so before we head on over to the tasting room, I'm going to give you a quick tour of the distillery. That all cool?" Toby and Pam both nodded. "So the first thing to know about whiskey making is, you need three main ingredients. A grain, like barely, rye or corn, water and yeast. This is called a mash tun," he said, putting his hand on the giant silver machine next to him, "and it's essentially a really big mixing bowl. The milled grain and water get mixed up in here to create a sugar water, or what we call, the wort. We drain it through these pipes over here, and it goes into one of our six wash backs, or really big pots," he smirked, "over there. We add yeast into the wash backs, and leave it for three to five days to ferment."

They walked over to the wash backs, and Pam could smell the yeasty smell getting even stronger, but found it easier to ignore than before. She was too focused on the animated way that Jim was describing the process, and the way that his arm and chest muscles pulled against the fabric of his shirt. 

"Once it's fermented, it gets drained and added to the stills over here," Jim said as he pointed to huge copper pots. "The stills are basically like huge kettles that boil the mix. It first goes into the wash still and gets boiled so that it evaporates up into this neck up here, and then cools and condenses along and down over there into what we call the little wine. But it's kinda gross and isn't alcoholic enough," he said with a chuckle. Pam couldn't help but stare at the small sliver of tanned skin that was exposed just above his hip as he lifted his arm up to point to the still and pipes. She felt herself flush as she tried to read the words on the band of his blue boxer briefs that were poking out from his low slung jeans and forced herself to snap out of it and listen to what Jim was saying. 

"So we then need to drain it again and add it to the next still, which we call the spirit still, and that's what produces the spirit that will eventually turn into whiskey. And that's essentially everything we do up here. We then pipe the spirit down into our basement, where we fill the barrels so that the whiskey can mature. And once it's finally ready, we can then bottle it. And that is your rapid fire introduction to whiskey making. Any questions?" Jim smiled warmly and looked at them both.

Can you take your shirt off? Are you as good a kisser as you look? Do you have a girlfriend? Can I run my fingers through your hair? Pam shook her head at Jim, realising that none of the questions she wanted to ask him were anywhere near appropriate, or anything to do with whiskey making. She looked at Toby, who equally looked as lost for words, but what she suspected was for slightly different reasons to herself.

"Alright then, let's go taste some whiskey shall we?" Jim led them through to a dark wood panelled room, which was dominated by the large wooden table in the centre and flanked by eight brown leather club chairs. He pulled out a chair for Pam, and Toby took a seat next to her, before Jim moved to the other side of the table. "I've got six different whiskeys for you to taste today," he said, as he gathered different bottles from shelves behind him. He placed them on the table in front of him, before taking a seat opposite Pam. "We've got the more ‘normal' whiskeys," he said using finger air quotes, "and a couple of more adventurous ones that I've started playing with." He began showing them the bottles as he spoke. "We've got our classic single malt, a bourbon and a rye and then my own creations of Xpresso, cherry bomb and my personal favourite peanut butter cup." Jim then stood again to collect the whiskey tasting glasses for the three of them.

"How come you're called Warrior Liquor?" Pam asked.

"It's from my dad really. When we were growing up, he always wanted to make sure that we had courage, and were brave and most importantly, bold. He'd call us, my brothers and sister, his little warriors. And then when we were setting the company up and we were trying to think of a name, my mom read this thing that ‘fortune favours the bold'. And it kind of hit us that it should be named after us, because what we were doing was pretty bold of us, and maybe it would bring us a little luck and fortune. So Warrior it is," he smiled sheepishly.

"That's really lovely," Pam smiled back warmly. "My dad called me his doodlebug, because I like to draw, not quite as inspiring as a warrior though." They both laughed, before Toby interrupted them with a small cough.

"Oh sorry, right, let's start our first tasting. So I'm going to put a small amount of whiskey in the glass," he said, holding up a glass that was like an elongated sherry glass, with a stubby stem. "So after looking at the colour of the whiskey, you're going to want to swirl it in the glass, and then slowly bring it to your nose to smell. But be gentle because there's a lot of alcohol in this and you don't want to over power your senses. And you might even find that the smell triggers something in your memory. Then go ahead and taste the whiskey, but concentrate on the feel of the whiskey in your mouth and then what it tastes like when you've swallowed it."

"That's what she said," Pam blurted out. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. It's this thing our boss does." She was flushing bright red and turned to Toby as if for backup who just laughed at her. 

"Don't worry at all," Jim laughed with them. "There's a huge debate about whether to taste with water or not, as water can help to bring out more of the flavours of the whiskey. So it's up to you if you want to add it or not. But, um, that's it really. Shall we?"

Toby and Pam nodded, and they were on their third tasting when Pam noticed Toby's face was red and blotchy. His face seemed to be covered in red patches, was sweating and looked like he was visibly uncomfortable.

"Are you ok Toby?" Pam asked, genuinely concerned.

"Um, I'm not really sure. I feel really weird and hot, and my stomach is really cramping," he said breathlessly as if he was gasping for breath.

"Oh wow man, it sounds like you might be allergic to whiskey. Has this ever happened before?" Jim asked, his voice full of concern.

"Um, maybe once?" Toby said, as he doubled over in pain, "I don't really drink whiskey though, so I guess the last time I just thought I was drunk. I'm really sorry Pam, I'm gonna have to go lie down." Before Pam could even reply, Toby pushed his chair back and was running out of the room, clutching his stomach and covering his mouth.

"Do you, uh, do you want to go after him?" Jim asked.

"Um, I think I'll leave him for now, but I'll check on him later on," Pam said, wondering if it made her a bad friend. She shook the thought out of her head. If Toby was as ill as he looked, she was sure he'd appreciate some privacy. "Should we, uh, carry on with the tasting?"

"Definitely," Jim smiled.

After trying the Xpresso whiskey, and agreeing with Jim that it would be a great alternative to an espresso martini, they moved on to the final two whiskeys. Jim poured out the amber liquid into a glass for Pam, and immediately she was hit with the scent of peanut butter.

"Ohmygod," she exclaimed, "it really is just like peanut butter!" She brought the glass closer to her nose to smell as she swirled the liquid around.

"Just wait until you try it," Jim said knowingly, raising his glass to hers.

They clinked their glasses, and Pam found herself lost in those green eyes that were staring at her from the other side of the table. After what seemed like minutes, but was just 27 seconds, they finally pulled their gaze away from each other and took a sip.

"Oh wow," Pam said after her sip. "That really is amazing. I can taste the chocolate in it now! It really is like a peanut butter cup."

"Yeah, it's something pretty special isn't it? It's my favourite one that we make here and it also happens to be the first flavoured whiskey that we made. Both really are on account of how much I love PB."

Pam's smile widened at the unknowing use of her initials and took another sip, drinking in the warmth of the liquid, wondering if Jim would taste like peanut butter if she kissed him.

"And that brings us to our final tasting for today," Jim said as he opened the last bottle on the table. "This is our cherry bomb whiskey." Again, he poured them both a small amount into new glasses, and for the last time they clinked their glasses together.

"Wow, that immediately takes me back to my grandma making cherry jam in her kitchen," Pam said as she smelled her glass. She took a sip and enjoyed the flavour rolling around her mouth. "I loved that jam so much, and this really takes me back."

"Yeah, this one is pretty jammy in flavour. I like it a lot, I'd say it's a close second for me," Jim told Pam before taking another sip of his whiskey.

"Have you ever combined them? You know, made a PB&J whiskey?" Pam asked, raising her eyebrow in question. 

Jim laughed and nodded. "I tried that shortly after we made the cherry bomb flavour. Did not go well, turns out whiskey making isn't quite like sandwich making." Pam giggled at him. "Which always kind of amazes me that I know how to create whiskey, yet my culinary expertise extends to said PB&J sandwiches and grilled cheese ones. If it weren't for my mom's cooking here, I think I'd be surviving on those plus jelly beans alone," he laughed.

"Well, it sounds like you've got a couple more new flavours to try there," Pam laughed, silently amazed of the favourite snacks they had in common.

"Wow, remind me to never let you in our inventing room," Jim chuckled before finishing the last of his glass. "So, Doodlebug," Pam felt her heart turn at the way Jim's voice coated her nickname, "you said you like to draw?"

"Yeah, I've been drawing since I was a child, my parents used to get really annoyed because I'd draw all over their newspapers before they got to read them. I haven't changed, although now I'm a homeowner I can draw on whatever I want!" 

"I'll know who to charge if I find graffiti on our stack of newspapers then." They laughed, "So, you're an artist?" he asked honestly.

"Well, no.. I'm a receptionist, technically I get paid to draw but don't tell my boss that." Jim mimicked zipping his mouth and placing the invisible key on the table in front of her. "When I was younger I always thought I'd be an art teacher," her face lit up as she spoke, "and have some of my pieces sold in a cute little art shop." Jim remained silent, a smile tugging at his lips and his eyebrows defying gravity, but he didn't speak. She was confused, so continued to talk to avoid an awkward silence, "What about you? Did eight year old Jim always dream of making his own whiskey?"

He stared back at her, blankly. Sending a feeling of rejection through her body, and a look of confusion to her face. After Pam had gone through all five stages of grief, Jim referenced his lips with a shrug and a pout.

"Ohh!" she exclaimed as if he'd just told her the meaning of life. She picked up the invisible key and held her hand out, as if to drop it into his. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned forward, cutting his eyes at her. She paused for a second, second guessing herself. Was he scowling at her because he was confused at what she was doing or was he really wanting her to go along with this bit? The words he spoke earlier flashed through her mind: have courage, be brave, be bold. She hovered her fingertips above the corner of his mouth, she twisted her fingers to mimic the lock and slid the invisible zip across his lips. She made sure not to touch him but that didn't mean the heat he radiated didn't make its way through her hand to send blush to her cheeks.

"First of all, you are an artist. Second, my mom gave me whiskey instead of milk as a baby and now I'm dependent on it." They laughed. "I actually always wanted to own a bike shop. I wanted to ride my bike everywhere as a kid, of course I fell off and got many DUIs because of the alcoholism. I went through a phase of wanting to ride it everywhere. We road tripped across state to go kayaking, while I was in my bike phase, and I cried the entire way because my parents wouldn't let me cycle there instead of joining them in the car." 

They both went back and forth telling childhood stories. Finding out the experiences that helped to craft them into who they had become had a level of intimacy that neither of them had felt before, although they didn't admit this to each other. They continued to taste the same whiskey they had earlier, because of how long they had been sitting at the table it would be rude not to. 

"I'm definitely leaving a review of this place." Pam stated as she took a sip of the peanut butter whiskey.

"Oh yeah?" Jim asked.

Pam nodded, "absolutely, people need to know how great this place is!"

"Well thank you in advance, I always appreciate the reviews. I'm not opposed to constructive criticism, but the nice ones always make my day." 

They smiled over their glasses as they took another sip. "So, have I got you hooked on whiskey yet? Is it your new favourite drink?"

The table echoed with a slight thud at Pam's glass being placed down, "hmm.. I'd say it's third," Jim gave her a disappointed look. "Tea, grape soda, then whiskey."

Jim smiled, "What if I told you I could combine two of your favourites?"

"Then I'd say, I've tried putting grape soda in my tea and it didn't taste nice."

He chuckled, "follow me."

--

Pam followed him into the basement, and without the worry of Toby catching her, she studied Jim's back profile. The way his soft hair curled away from his neck. The way his shirt stretched at his shoulder blades, the shape of it constantly moving as he walked. Then he stopped, and Pam almost ran into the back of him.

"Here's a little something I've been working on. It's still in the trialling stage so it's not perfect... yet." He filled a glass, which he brought from the table, from the tap of a barrel and handed it to Pam. 

She repeated the tasting routine he had shown her earlier and took a sip. Her eyes immediately widened, "OH MY GOD, I COULD KISS YOU." She immediately blushed at her outburst, the whiskey having gone straight to her head.

"That good, huh?" He laughed. 

"Yeah I'm sorry, that was just a reflex. I was saying it to the whiskey more so you," she joked.

He tried to take the glass from her but she batted his hand away, taking another sip in protest. "Why don't you leave us alone for a bit?"

"Grape soda whiskey's a winner?" He asked. 

"Yep, I'll be needing a bottle of this stuff a week."

"Oh no, you mean I have to see more of you?" He leaned with his hand above him, holding onto a metal pipe that ran above them. She stood a foot in front of him, cradling a now empty glass. 

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a bike ride tomorrow... but I guess you wouldn't want to see more of me." 

"Well it's bike riding Pam, I'm never going to turn that down," he replied in a hushed tone. 

She smiled up at him, admiring his height after they had been sitting down for so long. 

His eyes travelled to her lips, as his brain caught up he forced himself to travel further to the empty glass. Their fingers caught as he took the glass from her. The feeling sent an overload of sensations through his body, an error code labelled ‘Pam' flashing in his mind. He placed the glass on a flat surface next to them. 

"I, uh-," he tried to find something to say, and realised there was nothing. He shook his head and chanced looking at her, maybe he could read what she was thinking. Just as he looked at her, her eyes flicked to his lips. The error code turned to a green light, go. 

He touched his lips to hers, tasting the grape soda concoction, as if her lips were the rim of a glass, he wanted to drink her all in. As if he had been in drought his entire life, and he had only just realised that this is what has been missing. 

His hands landed at the base of her spine, his hands were cold from where he had gripped the metal, but that wasn't the reason a shiver got sent through her spine. She could tell he was hesitant, even with her fingers threading through his hair, desperately trying to stay grounded, he was careful. But she felt how sure he was and how the two feelings were conflicting. She didn't think that Jim Halpert would be the most delicious thing at this tasting. She should tell him to make a Jim Halpert whiskey, the taste of whiskey off his tongue was revolutionary. 

He moved his hands to her waist, pushing the barrel into her back, and she couldn't think of anything at all. He pulled back, lips parted and desperately inhaled air into his lungs.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he whispered. 

Pam felt her knees buck, she leaned into the barrel more to keep her steady. Her eyes flicked to his lips, a new force of habit. "Hmm," humour washed over her face, "I'd say somewhere between..." she checked her watch, "two minutes and two hours."

He wasn't able to come up with a quick remark, he decided he had to kiss her and maybe she'd taste any words he'd stopped from falling from his tongue. 

"Yep, definitely leaving a review," she mumbled against his lips. 

"Just don't mention this part ‘cause my Mom will go nuts and all the guests will expect the same treatment." Pam pulled away as she laughed at his joke, studying his face carefully. 

"So, bike riding tomorrow?" She asked, reluctantly taking her hands from his neck.

"Mmmhmm." He hummed through a small smile, worried that if he tried to open his mouth he'd only kiss her again.

"Then it's a date."

End Notes:

There really is a Warrior Liquor and all of those flavours are really theirs.

This is the view from Pam's terrace, just have a scroll around.

If anyone's interested this is the virtual whiskey making tour that immensely helped with this fic.

Chapter 2 by MrsKHalpert
Author's Notes:
Happy Birthday Warrior!

The next morning, Pam was pulling her hair into a high ponytail, when she heard a soft knocking at her door. She felt her stomach jump slightly at the thought of seeing Jim and bit her lip imagining him on the other side of the door, leaning against the rustic wood frame, looking down at her through his floppy hair with a grin tugging at his mouth. She took a deep breath as she looked into the mirror, a small smile playing on her face, bounced on the balls of her feet and turned to answer the door. 

"Hi," she breathed as she swung the door open, only to be greeted by Toby's waiting face. "Oh, uh. Hi Toby."

"Hey Pam. Um, wanna go get breakfast?" he asked nervously.

Pam peered behind Toby to the small staircase that led up to her room, hoping that Jim was somehow just hanging about there. But no, there was no Jim in sight. She felt her face fall, but tried to pull it together for Toby's sake at least. "Sure," she tried to smile. "Let me just grab my sweater."

They made their way down to the small wood panelled dining room and took their seats at a round table for two. As Pam looked around the room hoping Jim would come strolling by, Toby played nervously with the cutlery that had been laid on the white linen tablecloth. Pam picked up the paper menu that was laying between their place settings and looked down, avoiding Toby's eye line as much as possible. They sat in silence, awkwardly smiling at each other whenever their eyes met, but Pam quickly darted her eyes back down to the menu.

"What do you, ahem, want to, what do you want to do today?" Toby mumbled, breaking the tense silence.  

"Um," Pam began, but was cut off by Betsy entering the room and making a beeline for Pam and Toby's table. 

"Good morning," Betsy exclaimed. "How did y'all sleep? 

"Great! This fresh air really knocked me straight out," Toby smiled. "Or, maybe it was the vomiting," he added sheepishly. 

"Hmm," Betsy frowned. "Well, what can I get you folks for breakfast?" 

"I'll take the yoghurt and granola please," Pam said, looking up at Betsy. 

"And for you?" Betsy asked, turning to Toby. 

He quickly grabbed the menu that Pam had placed on the table and scanned it. "Pancakes and bacon please." 

"Alright, coming right up," Betsy smiled, before turning to leave. 

"So, um," Toby began, breaking the silence that had returned. "Did you want to go on a hike? I picked up a leaflet and it looks pretty nice weather today, so maybe we could go on one of the trails?" 

Pam shifted awkwardly in her seat. "Uh, I'm actually going on a bike ride," she began, but Toby cut her off.

"Oh that sounds great. Can we hire bikes here?" 

"With, um, Jim," she quickly added. She watched Toby's face fall. "But, um, maybe we can hang out before we head home or something?" she said, trying to ease her own guilt.

"Yeah, sure," Toby smiled weakly. 

"So how are you feeling after yesterday anyway?" Pam asked, before taking a sip of water. 

"I think I'm all back to normal now. Definitely won't be touching whiskey for a very long time that's for sure," he said, seeming to relax ever so slightly. 

"Here we go," Betsy said, carrying a bowl and a plate in her hands. "Yoghurt and granola for you, and the pancakes for you. Enjoy!" 

Toby and Pam smiled their thanks as they picked up their cutlery. Pam took a big bite of yoghurt and smiled around her spoon at the familiar taste, as Toby poured the small silver dish of maple syrup all over his pancakes. He cut a large chunk and quickly stuffed it into his mouth. 

"Oh wow," he said, his mouth full of food. "These are amazing," he carried on, pointing down to the plate of food with his fork. He quickly shoved another forkful of pancakes in, only pausing to mop up more of the syrup.  

"Oh great," Pam smiled, unsure of what else to say. She took a small spoonful of yoghurt as Toby continued to shovel food into his mouth, grateful that they weren't having to make small talk. She carried on eating, looking around the small dining room and smiling politely at the other guests as they ate their breakfasts, before her eyes settled on the huge picture window. The view before her was breathtaking. Rolling green hills covered in trees as far as the eye could see, with Big Boulder Lake sparkling in the morning sun in the foreground. But it was Jim, walking across the gravel driveway that really captured Pam's attention. She couldn't help but stare at him as he walked back and forth across her eye line, one hand in the back pocket of his jeans, and the other holding his phone to his ear as he animatedly spoke into it with a large smile on his face. His open black and white checkered shirt flapped around his white undershirt clad torso in the light breeze. Pam tried to tear her eyes away from him, but couldn't, even though there was a tightening sensation in her stomach at who he was speaking to. Who could possibly be making him smile so much. 

Just as Pam had finally convinced herself to focus on whatever Toby was mumbling to her, Jim turned and caught her eye. If possible, his smile grew even wider, and he pulled his hand from his back pocket and held it up to her in a greeting. He hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket as he walked towards the barn and disappeared out of view. Pam frowned into her bowl and pushed the remnants of her yoghurt around, wondering where Jim had gone. Although, she didn't need to wonder for long. 

"Morning," Jim drawled as he walked over to the small table, causing Pam to snap her head up at the sound of his voice. "How are you gu...oh wow, are you ok man?" 

"Uh, yeah?" Toby replied with a slight panicked edge to his voice. 

"Your face is all red, like really red," Jim said, leaning in closer to Toby. Just then, Toby doubled over in pain. 

"Oh my god, Toby. Are you ok?" Pam said, full of concern. 

"Um, maybe not," Toby replied weakly, clutching his stomach. 

"Oh no," Jim said, looking down at Toby's plate. "You ate the maple syrup didn't you?" Toby nodded at Jim as he covered his mouth with his hand. "It's our special house blend. My mom makes it herself. It's a bourbon maple syrup." 

"Oh god," Toby said, standing and dropping his white linen napkin onto the wooden chair. He pushed his way past Jim and ran out of the room. 

"Do you want to," Jim asked, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. 

Pam screwed up her nose. "He'll want the space. And also, I don't wanna see him vomit. It'll make me be sick." 

"Yeah I get that," he chuckled. He tucked his hand into the back pocket of his jeans and shifted from one foot to the other. "So, do you still wanna go for a bike ride?"

"Yes," she replied, too quickly for her own liking.

"Alright," he smiled, a slight blush tingeing his cheeks. "I've gotta do a couple of things this morning, but wanna meet me out front at noon?" 

"Absolutely I do," she grinned. 

-- 

Midday rolled around and Pam nervously stood at the entrance, trailing her foot in the gravel. She looked around for what felt to her like the hundredth time and wondered where Jim was. She checked her watch and saw the minute hand still hadn't quite reached two minutes past, so she looked back up for the hundred and first time. And that's when she saw him walking towards her, wheeling a bike with each hand.

"Sorry I'm late," he said slightly breathlessly, "my sister wasn't at her place and I had to wait for her." Pam gave him a puzzled look. "I called her this morning, just before I saw you, to see if I could borrow her bike for you. And she told me to get to her house at 11am, but she got stuck at work and didn't get there til like half past eleven. And then her bike was at the back of her garage and it took ages to get out." Pam smiled at him as he continued talking. "And I'm rambling," he laughed. "Hi." 

"Hi yourself," she smiled back at him, pulling the strap of her backpack up a little higher on her shoulder. 

He pushed the smaller of the two bikes over to Pam. "Shall we?"  

Pam nodded and took the bike from him. She climbed onto it and peddled forward, before wobbling back around to face Jim. She put her foot out and balanced herself as she watched Jim mount his bike and push himself forward. "So where are we going?"

"I thought we'd head towards the lake. I've brought a little picnic for us and a blanket. And maybe we could go canoeing too, if you're up to it?" 

"That sounds amazing," Pam smiled.  

"Follow me," he shouted as he quickly sped off, leaving Pam teetering slightly on the gravel.

She quickly sped up and within no time, Pam was riding alongside Jim as they made their way down a hill. With the wind whipping through her hair, the midday sun warming her face and Jim to the side of her, Pam felt more alive than she ever had done. They cycled next to each other in silence, just enjoying the sounds of nature all around them. The birds softly chirping, the light breeze blowing through the trees, a bee buzzing past them. Jim led them towards the lake and as the view opened up in front of them, Pam gasped slightly at the glistening water directly ahead, which caused Jim to turn to her with a slight smile. 

"We're gonna head just over there," he said as he tilted his head to the left and nodded slightly. Pam smiled and turned her handlebars to follow Jim. "So how long do you have before you're heading home today?"

"Oh, I'm not really sure," Pam replied with a slight grimace. She felt a pang of guilt that she'd hardly spent any time with Toby, but also relieved that she hadn't had to. "When we stop I'll send him a message and see what time we're gonna head back to Scranton." She gave Jim a smile, which he returned, but she noticed it wasn't quite as bright as the others that morning had been. 

Jim led them to a small clearing in the trees with trimmed grass and a rickety looking dock that led out onto the lake. He freewheeled his bike over to the edge of the grass and hopped off, before laying it on the ground. Pam followed him, laying her bike to the side, and watched Jim pull a blanket from his backpack and shook it out. "Grab a seat," he smiled, before plopping himself down and reaching into his bag. "So I wasn't sure what you'd like for lunch," Jim said as he began pulling packages out. A couple of packets of Sun Chips tumbled out onto the red checkered blanket, before Jim carefully placed two tin foil packages in front of Pam. "One is PB&J and the other is grilled cheese. Although, I guess it's cold now, so maybe it's just a cheese sandwich?" he laughed. 

Pam giggled at him before reaching for one, and watched Jim take the other. She opened it to find the cold grilled cheese sandwich. "Wanna trade?" she asked, smiling with her tongue just poking between her teeth. 

"Sure," Jim smiled as he passed his sandwich over to Pam. "French Onion or Garden Salsa?" he asked, holding up the packets of Sun Chips. 

"French Onion please." 

"Bold move. You better hope no one is intending to kiss you later on with that breath," Jim laughed as he tossed the packet over to her. 

"We'll see," she giggled, before ripping the chips open and putting one in her mouth. She smiled with a large crunch. "Oh shoot, let me send Toby a message before I forget." She reached into her backpack to find her phone. "Sorry," she said to Jim as she typed away on the phone. 

"No worries," he smiled as he reached for a can of grape soda. As soon as he pulled on the metal tab, a gush of purple liquid exploded over him. "Dammit," he exclaimed, standing quickly pulling his checkered shirt off and holding his white undershirt away from his body. Pam scooted backwards, crashing into the food and Jim's bag. "Oh god, I'm so wet," he groaned as Pam giggled up at him. "What?"

"Nothing," she smiled down at the ground with an exhale through her nose, shaking her head slightly.

"Man, it's so sticky," Jim moaned, as he crossed his arms and carefully pulled his white, purple-splattered t-shirt off. Pam couldn't help but stare up at his lightly tanned stomach as Jim was wrestling to remove the shirt. Her eyes trailing from the smattering of chest hair, over his ripped muscles, down to the trail of hair that led below the waistband of his underwear that was peeking out from the top of his low slung jeans. "Uh," Jim murmured, breaking Pam from her stare, "can you pass my bag?" 

"Oh, um, yeah, sure," she rushed out, completely flustered. She passed his backpack over and tried to avert her eyes, but failed miserably. She eyed his slight six-pack one last time before quickly darting her eyes back down to the ground. 

"Shit," Jim mumbled as he fumbled through his bag.

"What's up?" Pam asked, her gaze trained on her shoes.

"I thought I had a spare shirt in here," he said, still rooting through the bag. "Ah ha!" he shouted as he pulled out something red. "Oh god," he groaned. 

"What is it?" She rose to her knees to look.

"It's this really old shirt, you can't judge me ok?" he warned. 

"Ok," she said slowly, a small smile playing on her lips in anticipation of what she was about to see. 

Jim took a deep breath and pulled the shirt over his head, before straightening it out slightly. It was more tight fitting than his white t-shirt had been and it stopped a little higher than the previous one. He pulled it down as far as it could go and looked at Pam, who promptly burst into laughter. "Oh come on, it's not that bad," Jim tried, as he sat back down on the blanket. "And Power Rangers are awesome." 

"No, no," Pam giggled, as she stared at the image of the red Power Ranger in a wide-legged stance who was holding a sword in front of him with both hands. "Power Rangers are awesome. It's just, why is it so small?"

"It's really old. I was going to give it to my nephew, he loves Power Rangers. Which is why it's in the bag," he said as his cheeks turned pink. 

"Well, I think you look great," she smiled as she passed Jim's packet of chips over to him. He took them with a slightly embarrassed smile.

After a moment of silence as they ate their food, Jim turned to Pam. "So do you think I could maybe come up to Scranton next weekend to see you?"

"I'd um, I'd really like that, but I'm actually going to New York next weekend."

"Oh," Jim replied, slightly sadly. "Maybe the weekend after? Or you know, when you have some time?"

"I'm going to be in New York for the next four weekends," Pam said, slightly quietly. Jim didn't say anything, but just hung his head and picked at his sandwich. Pam bit her lip slightly. "Um, maybe you could come visit me there?" Jim looked up at her a little confused, so Pam continued. "I've got an art internship through my company for the next four weeks. It's, uh, for most of the day on Saturday and a couple of hours on Sunday, but maybe we could hang out in the evening or Sunday afternoon or something? Or you know, um, maybe when I'm back home if that's easier?" Pam felt her face flushing slightly as she waited for Jim to answer. 

"New York sounds pretty awesome. And an art internship? Wow," he smiled brightly as he squinted slightly in the sun. 

"Yeah," Pam said with a smile and a nod. "I'm really proud of it. My boyfriend," she began, but saw Jim's face quickly fall, "my ex-boyfriend. Well, I guess my ex-fiancé. Actually, it's kinda the reason we broke up. He wouldn't let me do it. And there were a million reasons to break up with him, and I guess that was the final push to do it. And I've not regretted it once. I'm just really excited for the future. And happy." She smiled at Jim. "Really happy."

Jim mirrored her smile. "And I'm really happy for you. I've never even been to New York, because you know, West Coast and everything. You'll have to show me all the cool fancy places." 

"Oh god," Pam groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I've no idea about cool or fancy." She took a deep breath. "I like things a little more rustic and warm. And tall." 

"Oh really?" he smiled cockily. Pam grinned at him with her tongue just poking out between her teeth. He blushed again and grabbed the tin foil that his sandwich had been wrapped in, fisting it into a tight ball. They gazed at each other, smiles playing on both of their faces. The tension was building between the two of them, and Jim knew that if he leaned over to kiss her on the blanket, that he was going to find it incredibly difficult to stop. And he really didn't think either of them would want to be found making out in the clearing. So instead, he cleared his throat. "Do you wanna go canoeing?" he asked, pointing his thumb behind him towards the lake. 

"Sounds great."

They cleared away the remnants of their lunch, leaving their belongings on the blanket and headed towards the little dock on the lake. Two canoes were knocking into each other in the water, each tied to a post of the dock. "Wanna go in one boat? Or take one each?" Jim asked as he sat down on the edge.  

Pam thought for a moment. "How good at canoeing are you?"

"Uh, pretty good? Like not the best, but I can definitely get us where we need to go."

"That's ok, let's take separate ones," Pam suggested.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he replied, clearly disappointed that they wouldn't be sharing a boat. He helped Pam down into one canoe, and was just about to lower himself into the other when he saw Pam push herself away from the side with her oar.

"See," she shouted, "this way we can race!" And with that, she put the oar into water and sped away from Jim. 

"Hey that's not fair," he yelled as he scrambled into the canoe and tried to push himself off. He paddled quickly to try and catch up with Pam. "Wait up!" He paddled faster and faster, water splashing him as he did so. Jim had almost caught up with her when Pam turned her head back to smile at him. She taunted him, a huge smile plastered on her face, when suddenly her boat hit something and tipped over. "Pam!" Jim screamed, adrenaline suddenly pumping through him as he began paddling as fast as he could to reach her. When he finally got to her boat, he found her floating face down in the water. "Pam. Pam. Pam!" he shouted, jumping into the water. He pushed her canoe out of the way and quickly hooked his arm underneath her to pull her the right way up. He swam on his back to the bank, supporting Pam with one hand as he did, praying desperately that she was going to be ok. 

He hauled her onto the grassy verge and shook her slightly, trying to wake her. He quickly realised that she wasn't going to, and so he tilted her chin upwards, pinched her nose and gave her five deep breaths that caused her chest to rise. Nothing happened. With full blown panic in his eyes, Jim moved on to give Pam chest compressions. He couldn't remember how many he was supposed to do, so after two rounds of the chorus of ‘Staying Alive', he moved back to give her another breath. As he was midway through the second breath, Pam suddenly began spluttering into his mouth. He quickly moved away and pulled her onto her side facing him so that she could vomit up a mix of lake water and PB&J.  

As soon as she finished, Pam's whole body slumped backwards, but Jim caught her and kept her on her side. "Hey Pam," Jim said softly, supporting her body and head with his hands. "You're ok, you're ok now." 

"Oh god," she groaned, struggling to look up at him. "What happened?"

"I couldn't really see because you were ahead of me," he began, his voice still full of concern.

"Beating you," she interrupted, trying to make a joke. 

"Yes, beating me," he smiled with a shake of his head. "And you must have hit a rock or something, because the next second, you were in the water and I was trying to get to you." 

"Wow, you saved me," she tried to laugh, but her teeth were chattering too much. "Thank you."

"No thanks needed," he said. "Although I really wish you hadn't eaten those French Onion chips," he chuckled, causing Pam to try to swat limply at his arm. "But we do really need to get you warmed up and I think I should call an EMT." Pam began to protest, but Jim was having none of it. "I probably shouldn't really be moving you, but I need to get my cellphone and something warm for you." Jim carefully scooped her up in his arms and walked back to their little picnic site. 

"I'm really sure I can walk," Pam shivered. "I'm feeling ok."

"Absolutely not," Jim stated, incredibly matter of factly. He reached the blanket in no time and set Pam down on the grass just next to it. She sat up, hugging her knees, her teeth still chattering. "We should, um, probably get you out of those wet clothes," Jim said, his mouth having gone dry.

Pam nodded with a weak, "ok," and with jittery hands tried to take her t-shirt off. 

"Can I help?" Jim asked, pointing to where Pam was trying to lift the hem of her shirt. She nodded and Jim moved to the bottom of the fabric. He tried his hardest not to look at where the wet, pale pink fabric of her t-shirt clung to her body, how he could see the lace of her bra or that she was so cold, her nipples were straining against the wet fabric. Instead, he took a deep breath and pulled the wet t-shirt over Pam's head. He used everything in him not to stare at her full, perfect breasts that were now clad only in a lacy white bra that clearly showed the dark pink of her nipples and instead lowered his eyes as he reached for the blanket. He wrapped it around her shoulders, noticing how there were goosebumps all over the top of her chest, and did his best to avert his eyes as they trailed over the raised skin of her breasts. Jim was just about to pull the blanket tight around Pam, when he realised she was still wearing her soaking wet jeans. "I should probably, uh," he trailed off, pointing to her legs.

"Oh, yeah," she shivered. 

Jim knelt down in front of her and untied her white keds before slipping each of them and her wet socks off. He moved his hands to her belt buckle and slowly pulled the leather from the metal loop, before opening the button of her jeans. He tried to loosen the tight wet denim from her legs without touching her too much, but ended up accidentally cupping her ass as he pulled a little too hard and almost sent her flying. "Sorry," he said nervously and carried on trying to get the jeans off of her. He'd got them down slightly, and it was at this point he realised he was face to face with the small, lacy white triangle of her panties. He immediately looked down at the ground. "Um, it might be easier if you sit down and then I can pull them off?" Pam nodded and went to sit down with Jim's help, revealing that the lacy white panties were actually a thong. "Jesus Christ," he whispered to himself as he looked up at the sky and scratched the back of his neck, anything to not think about her pert ass that he'd just seen and felt. As quickly as humanly possible, he managed to get Pam's jeans off and tucked the blanket tightly around her. "I'm just gonna call an EMT ok?" he asked Pam as he reached for his cellphone in his bag. He made the call, letting the operator know where they were and what had happened, and with his free arm he wrapped it around Pam to rub her arm and give her a little more heat. 

About 15 minutes later, they heard the sound of a siren getting close, which caused Pam's head to jump from Jim's shoulder where she had been resting it, snuggled against him. "Hey, that must be the EMT," he whispered to her. They both looked as the ambulance parked up to the side of the clearing, and two guys jumped out of the cab. They made their way over to where Jim and Pam were sitting, holding a stretcher between the two of them with a jump bag balanced on top of it. 

"Hi guys, what's happened here?" one of the paramedics asked as they set the stretcher and bag down on the ground and crouched in front of Jim and Pam.

"We were out on the lake and she must have hit a rock or the canoe capsized or something. When I got to her she wasn't breathing, but I did some basic CPR and she coughed up a lot of water," Jim explained, his arm still protectively wrapped around Pam. 

"Ok, thanks, uh?" the paramedic said, as if asking Jim's name

"Jim. I'm Jim."

"Thanks Jim. I'm Ethan and this is Steve," he said, pointing to himself and then his colleague, who were both wearing PA Dept of Health EMT uniforms. "What's your name?" Ethan asked, turning his attention to Pam. 

"Pam Beesly," Pam replied, still shivering slightly.

"Pam, don't worry, we're going to take good care of you," Ethan reassured her as he began pulling equipment out from his bag. "I'm just going to take your temperature ok?" He placed a thermometer into Pam's ear and as soon as it beeped, Ethan looked at the reading and scribbled the number down on a pad. He reached for a tin foil blanket that he put on top of the checkered blanket that Pam was wearing. "It's a little low, but that's to be expected. I'm just going to take some more observations, ok Pam?" Pam nodded as Ethan continued his assessment and began to ask Pam questions. "How old are you Pam?" 

"29."

"And have you drunk any alcohol today?" Ethan asked. 

Pam thought for a moment, yesterday and today suddenly a scramble in her head, until she worked out the whisky tasting had been the day before. "Uh, no. No alcohol." 

"Any medical history? High blood pressure? Seizures? Diabetes? That kind of thing?" 

"Uh, no. Nothing."

"Have you taken any drugs today? Or are you on any prescription medication?" Ethan asked. 

"No drugs. But I am on birth control," Pam said, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed Jim's cheek flush a little pink as he looked up at the sky again. 

"Are you, or could you be pregnant?" 

"Um, no," she said a little awkwardly. "Definitely not to either of those."

"Any allergies?"  

"No, nothing. Oh god, Toby," Pam suddenly said in a panic, her hand flying to her head, which caused the blanket to slip slightly. Jim caught it and pulled it back around her shoulders. 

"Who's Toby?" Ethan asked.

"The friend that I came here with. I've no idea what time it is or when I'm meant to meet him."

"Ok, calm down Pam. There's no need to worry about that right now. The only thing you need to do now is rest somewhere warm, and have lots of hot drinks. Is that going to be possible?" 

"Yup, I'll make sure of that," Jim quickly said.

"Ok, other than mild hypothermia, everything seems fine. Can we take you somewhere?" Ethan asked.

"Would you be able to take us up to Warrior Liquor?" 

"No problem. Let's get you guys packed up," Ethan said as he pressed his hands to his knees and stood. Jim stood too, unfurling his 6'3 frame for the first time in what seemed like an hour. He stood and stretched, causing the tight red t-shirt to rise up even more. "Oh hey, cool shirt man," Ethan said as he pointed at Jim's chest.  

"Uh, thanks?" Jim replied, a little confused. "You like Power Rangers?"

"Who doesn't?" Ethan laughed as he helped Pam up. "Bet you didn't know that the actor who played the very first Red Ranger became a paramedic after he stopped acting?" 

"No way," Jim smiled as he took Pam's hand and they made their way to the back of the ambulance. "That's awesome!"

--

"Ok, just a couple more steps," Jim said as he guided Pam up the steep wooden staircase to her room. He unlocked the door and held it open as she walked inside.

She stopped abruptly and looked at him, still slightly shivering in the blanket. "Will you stay with me?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Absolutely," he replied as he walked into her room and closed the door behind him, taking a deep breath as he did so.

"I'm just gonna take a shower, and you know get the lake off me and stuff. Warm up a little under the water," she said as she headed towards the bathroom. 

"Ok," Jim croaked out, not entirely sure what to do with himself while Pam was showering. Definitely, definitely don't picture her naked under the water, he thought to himself as he wandered around the room that he'd been in countless times before. But for some reason, it felt entirely new to him. The way that her sweater was neatly folded over one of the brown leather chairs. How he could make out the mark of her lips on one of the water glasses on the table. When he looked at white walls, adorned with the watercolours, he imagined it was Pam's art hanging there. Or at least what he imagined her art would look like. He paced around, not wanting to sit anywhere in his wet jeans, and wondered what to do so not as to appear awkward when Pam eventually reappeared. Before he had too much time to think, he heard the shower turn off, and moments later, the door to the bathroom opened and steam billowed out. 

"Hey," Pam said shyly, a fluffy white robe wrapped securely around her as her wet hair dripped around her shoulders.

"Hi," Jim replied hoarsely. "Feeling a little warmer?" 

"Yeah, but I think I'm going to get into bed," she said as she pulled the white comforter back on the huge bed. 

"Good idea. Can I make you something warm to drink?" he asked. 

"Tea would be amazing," she smiled. 

"No problem," Jim said as he walked over to the small desk that held the tea and coffee while Pam got herself comfortable in the bed. "Here you go," he said a few minutes later, bringing the steaming mug of tea around to the side of the bed where she was laying. Pam took it with both hands and thanked him with a smile. "Ok, I should probably get out of your hair, let you rest," Jim said almost reluctantly. 

"Can you stay?" she pleaded. "I just really don't want to be alone right now." 

"Uh, sure. I just, I kinda need to get out of these wet clothes." 

"You're welcome to take a shower and warm up?" Pam suggested.

"Um, yeah. I'll, um, just be a few minutes," he said nervously before heading into the bathroom.

Pam gazed up at the string lights wrapped around the beams on the ceiling and sipped her tea. She bit her lip thinking about Jim running his hands through his hair as the hot water pounded down on his body. How the water droplets would run all over his broad shoulders and make their way down his body, following the trail of hair from his navel downwards. She thought about joining him in there. How he might be gentle with her and tenderly kiss her as he washed her, or maybe he'd be rough and push her against the tiled wall, kissing her furiously, hands roaming all over her as water streamed over both of them. The squeak of the faucet broke Pam out of her trance and she quickly sipped her tea to calm herself down. 

As Jim walked out of the bathroom, Pam quickly averted her gaze away from where the white towel was slung low around his hips. She tried not to notice the drops of water from his hair that were making their way down his body, exactly as she'd imagined. "Sorry, I wasn't sure what to do with my wet clothes, so I've left them in the tub," he said a little bashfully. "Didn't really think about not having any dry clothes to leave here with," he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. The muscles in his arms flexed as he did so, and Pam found it increasingly harder not to stare at him. 

"I, um, I should probably change my contact lenses," she said, pushing back the covers on the bed, "get some non-lakey ones in." She walked towards the bathroom and motioned to it so that Jim could move out the way to let her pass. She ducked her head in thanks as they switched places and disappeared inside, closing the door.  

Jim wandered over to the bed and perched on the edge, rubbing his hands over his cooling skin. A soft knocking moments later pulled Jim towards the door of Pam's bedroom. Without thinking, he instinctively opened the door and as he pulled the heavy wood towards him he panicked that his mom was about to find him essentially naked in a guest's room. 

"Hi Pa..." Toby trailed off when he realised he was face to face with a towel clad Jim. He took a big gulp. 

Jim breathed a slight sigh of relief when he realised it was Toby. "Hey man," he said, clutching the towel at his hip tightly. "Pam's just in the bathroom, hold on." Jim turned to walk towards the bathroom, leaving the door to the room open.

"Uh, thanks," Toby said quietly. His eyes were drawn to the unmade bed with the covers laying haphazardly on it as if it had very recently been used.

"Hey Toby," Pam smiled as she walked towards where Toby was standing. She held her robe tightly together across her chest. "How are you feeling?" 

"Um, much better now. Definitely wasn't as bad as yesterday, but I don't think I'll be having anything with whisky in for a long time to come." He looked at Jim and Pam awkwardly, and then again to the unmade bed. "I, um. You, uh, you didn't reply to the message I sent you about leaving around now." He looked down at his watch. "But um, I guess, uh, you've been a little preoccupied," he said, his face almost entirely scarlet by this point. 

"Oh, no, it's not what you think," Pam quickly said. "I had an accident while we were canoeing and Jim saved me." She looked up at Jim with a shy smile. "And the EMT that came to check me over said I have mild hypothermia and need to rest and stay warm." 

"Oh wow, I'm sorry," Toby said with a small wobble of his chin. Pam smiled and shrugged. "So I'd messaged you to say we should probably leave around now so that we don't get back too late. Sunday evening and all. But, uh..." he trailed off. 

"I think I should probably stay here tonight," Pam replied. She could see Toby was about to say something, most probably to offer to stay too and drive her back the next day, and she really didn't want that. "I think I'll take a personal day tomorrow and then make my way home by bus or something," she quickly added. 

"I'd be happy to drive you home," Jim called from the side where he was standing, getting slightly cold in just his towel while the conversation continued. 

"Oh amazing, thank you," Pam smiled. She turned her attention back to Toby. "I'm sorry we haven't been able to spend too much time together between your sickness and my accident. But the whisky making tour was awesome. Thank you so much for bringing me." 

"You're, uh, welcome. I guess I'll see Tuesday then?" Toby mumbled.

"Yeah. And Toby," she said, reaching out to touch his arm, causing him to look down at where her hand met his jacket sleeve. "Really, thank you for bringing me here." Toby turned with a half smile and sad eyes, and Pam closed the door to the bedroom before turning her attention to Jim. "Are you really sure it's ok to drive me home tomorrow?" 

"Absolutely it is," he said as he pushed a wet curl behind Pam's ear. "So, um," he began, but the words died on his lips as his gaze met Pam's. His eyes darted to her mouth, which parted ever so slightly. He held his breath for a split second before leaning down to kiss Pam, pulling her closer to him by the tie on her robe. Jim wrapped his arms around her as her hands eased their way up his bare chest, loving the way that her nails scratched through his chest hair ever so slightly. She sighed ever so slightly into the kiss, and Jim couldn't help but smile. He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with happy eyes. Pam smiled up at him, but he felt her shiver in his arms. "Hey, you still cold?" he asked. 

"A little," she replied, rubbing one arm.

"Here, let's get you back into bed," he said, moving towards the bed to pull the covers back. Pam's eyebrows shot up with a little smirk. "No funny business I promise," he laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. "I promise." 

"Ok," Pam smiled as she climbed into bed. 

Jim climbed into the other side of the bed, pulling the covers over himself, glad finally of the warmth from something more than just a towel. He leaned his back on the wooden headboard, and pulled Pam against his chest. For extra warmth, he told himself. He felt her head rest gently on his shoulder, and he couldn't help but smile. "I've had a really great time with you," he almost whispered.  

"Apart from the whole near-death-drowning experience," Pam laughed with a slight blush as she looked up at Jim.

"Yeah, apart from that little bit," he smiled down at her, before she settled more snuggly into him. Not a bad day, he thought to himself with a smile as he looked up at the illuminated string lights above, not a bad day.

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