"Pam! Damn it, get back in here. I wasn't done talking to you."

"Well, I'm done!" She knocked a chair loudly to the floor before making her way into the kitchen. She had never been so angry in her entire life. She heard his bare feet padding into the room. She contemplated her next move, but knew the mess would be worth it. She turned and hurled the glass at him. It shattered against the wall thanks to his quick dodge.

"Pam, we have to talk about this."

"No!" She threw the other glass, missing him again. She refused to have to drive him to the hospital for glass in his eyes. "I am not fucking talking to you!"

"God damn it!" The plate nearly missed his head, cracking loudly on the wall and then the floor. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What was she doing here? Why was that fucking bitch in my house?"

"It's MY house!"

"The hell it is! You sit on your ass all day at Dunder-Mifflin while I slave away at the gallery. I'm the one who works for a living."

"Oh, I don't work?" He took a step towards her, but was cautious; she still had another plate at her disposal.

"No. You don't"

"Screw you, Pam."

"Not tonight, you won't"

He turned and made his way back down the hall, but her angry heels clicked quickly behind him.

"I should have never married you!"

He stopped and turned to face her. They we're just steps away from each other. "Yeah, well, maybe I shouldn't have asked you to marry me, then."

"Maybe!" There was a moment of silence before she spat, "What the fuck was she doing here?"

He turned from her, but then turned back to stare her straight in the eyes, "Nothing happened."

"That's not what I asked." Her tone had softened, but there was still a burning in her eyes that he had never seen before. "I want to know why she was here." She spaced her words for effect.

"She was in town. She wanted to stop by and see the house. All she wanted was to say hello." He leaned forward so she could see how sorry he was by the softness of his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would that have made it better?"

The anger rose in her face again. She stormed past him to their bedroom. She turned when she reached the door, "I can't believe you thought it would be okay for her to come over here tonight. You know how important tonight was."

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"No. I told you, it had to be tonight. I work every night for the next two weeks."

"Pam." He took a step towards her.

"No. I don't want to do this anymore. I wanted to go out and you fucked it up."

"Pam." He took another step towards her. She responded by turning and walking briskly through their bedroom and into the bathroom. He followed her, standing in the doorway while she stared into the mirror. "I'm sorry."

"No. Don't you dare say you're sorry. You have no idea how mad I am at you right now. If you start talking it's going to make it worse and as it is, it's going to be hard to forgive you. I can't believe you would go and screw up like that. You know I'd give up everything for you, but you make me so mad that I can't take it any-"

She hadn't gotten a chance to continue. His hand was large on her bare arm and his lips were strong against hers. She wasn't sure how he had spun her around to face him, but the moment he pushed against her into the sink, she no longer cared. Perhaps her strength had been what did it, or maybe he was always that way around her, but she could feel his excitement for the situation against her lower belly.

His arms were wrapped around her and his hands tangled in her hair. She had straitened it that morning and she knew that drove him wild. Her hands found their way to his face, pulling him into her. He knew that was a good sign and he brought his hands down to hips, lifting her up so she could sit on the counter. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him, her black heels falling to the floor with a thud.

He lifted her and, without breaking their passionate kiss, carried her to the bed, lying on top of her. He brought her arms from their new position on his ass and held them above her head with one hand, caressing her breast with the other. She moaned into his mouth and he knew he was doing something right for the first time that night.

Their clothes were quickly discarded to the floor and the nightstand, but they never left one another. He knew she liked being on top, but he refused to allow that for one night. She hadn't been one for control in their relationship until after the wedding and though he liked it that way, she wasn't calling the shots tonight.

He rocked against her and she moved with quick ease against him. It was as if they were used to having crazy, angry sex. She usually hated when he came before she was completely ready, but on this night, she was taken off guard and it made her feel more alive than ever before.

After a time, he rolled off of her. He knew there would probably be some blood on the sheets from where she had scratched him with her newly manicured nails, but he could have cared less.

She let out a deep sigh next to him. She rubbed the back of her hand along his chest as she spoke, "Hmm, I think Karen needs to come over more often."

"No, I think one night of china throwing was enough."

They laid in silence for a long time before she spoke again, "Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Let me know when you're ready to go again."

He smiled into the darkness, "Yes ma'am."

"But next time, I'm on top, you're heavy."

"You got it," he said slyly as he reached over and pulled her giggling frame on top of him.