Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Monday mornings were never something to look forward to, especially if what you’re going to is an eight-hour day of selling paper.  It wasn’t exactly a huge motivator to get out of bed.  But that particular Monday, when Jim’s alarm sounded promptly at 6:30 am, he gladly opened his eyes and stretched in his bed.  He reached his arms behind his head, gazing at the ceiling and remembering the night before.

Pam let out a huge yawn, her head resting on the end of her couch and her eyes blinking slowly.

“Tired?” Jim asked with a laugh.

She shook her head defiantly, a few curls falling in front of her face before she tucked them away.

“You’re a very bad liar.”

But before she could protest, her mouth opened into another yawn. 

“Okay, I give,” she said with a pout.

“Well, we do have work in…” Jim glanced at his watch.  “…Six hours.”

Pam groaned before her face suddenly brightening with a smile.  “So, then I’ll get to see you again in six hours,” she said while moving to the front door with Jim.

He took her hand, swinging it gently at his side.  “I guess that’s true.”  They reached the door, hands still clasped and eyes locked on each other.  Jim looked at the perfection in front of him and decided she was worth another risk.  He bent his head toward hers and was met halfway with her lips gently pressing into his.  It lasted for only a moment, but in that instant, time didn’t matter.

Jim sighed as he replayed the night over and over in his head.  Thought it had gotten off to a shaky start, they had managed to pull through and make it an unforgettable night.  He hoped there were many more nights like that to come. 

It was the first time since starting there that Jim was actually excited to pull into the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot.  The thought of seeing Pam had always been a perk in his years there, but had its obvious drawbacks since she was at the time taken.  Now he could freely spend time with her at work without worrying about certain beer-gutted warehouse workers beating him to a pulp.  Though considering recent developments, that might still be the case.

Plus there was Karen to think about.  They had ended on good terms and yet he still had to be sensitive to the fact that she was still working there and would observe any interaction between him and Pam.  Jim had been on that end once before and knew it wasn’t the most pleasant feeling.

He pulled open the heavy door to the office expecting to see the sight that had greeted him every workday for five years.  Instead, he saw Ryan sitting at the reception desk.

“Hey man,” Jim said, trying to sound casual.  “Where’s Pam?”

“She called in sick,” Ryan said flatly, not looking up from the computer.

“Is she okay?” Jim’s eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Ryan merely shrugged and continued to click away at the keyboard.  Jim quickly went to his desk, a flurry of insecurities racing through his mind.  Maybe she wasn’t really sick, maybe she didn’t want to come to work because she was having second thoughts, maybe she felt like she couldn’t face Karen…

“Hey,” Karen’s voice brought Jim back from his thoughts.  He looked up to find her leaning against his desk.

“Hey,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“Just thought you should know that I worked all the paperwork out with Toby, so if you need to…you know, whatever, with Pam, you’re good to go,” she smiled weakly. 

“Oh, thanks…you didn’t have to do that.  I could have…”

“No, don’t worry about it.  Granted, it was one of the more humiliating moments in my life, but I was due for one of those anyway.”

Guilt tugged at Jim,  “Anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Karen thought for a moment.  “A bag of Herr’s chips and all is forgiven.”

Jim smiled.  “You got it.”  He gave her a high-five causing both of them to laugh and silently agree that though it might be difficult at first, an eventual friendship between the two was in the works.

His attention turned back to his computer as a “ping” sound indicated that there was e-mail waiting for him.  Jim felt his whole body relax as he saw the single item in his inbox:

To: jhalpert@dundermifflin.com
From: pbeesley@dundermifflin.com
Subject:  Pepto Bismol is gross

I’m hoping you’ve figured out by now that I’m not at work, and if you haven’t, that means we have bigger problems on our hands than me being sick.  Yes, you read correctly, I am truly sick.  As it turns out, that burger and I didn’t seem to agree.  I was throwing up all night (sorry for the gruesome mental image but it’s true).  Anyway, while I can’t complain about a day off, I can complain about not getting to see you.  Last night was perfect (besides the whole leg injury, my now-red dress and evil burger thing) and I was looking forward to seeing you, even if it was at work and I would mainly be looking at the back of your head.

But I think I’ll be well enough to come in tomorrow. Start thinking of a good prank to pull on Dwight so my immune system will have some incentive.

Now get back to work, slacker.

-Me

Jim was relieved to find that she hadn’t regretted their date but continued to worry, as he thought of her home alone and sick.  He made a mental note to swing by her place after work.

The day wore on more slowly than usual.  Jim trudged through his list of sales calls, working on autopilot the entire time.  Make the call, give the pitch, close the deal, and start all over again.  He’d had little to no interaction with anyone for most of the day, seeing as how Dwight had been sent on an errand by Michael and his only real ally was at home cursing fast food.  So he was actually grateful when he saw Toby approach his desk, a few sheets of paper in his hand.

“Hey Jim,” he said in his timid voice.  “I’m going to need your signature on these papers saying that you and Karen—“

“Hey hey hey,” Michael barged out of his office, pointing at Toby.  “Why are you talking to him?”

“It’s just some HR business, Michael, it’s really none of your concern,” Toby spoke slowly, an edge of annoyance creeping into his words.  Jim sighed as he waited for the argument that would inevitably come.

“Oh, I think it is my concern.  Jim is my homie and anything he has to say to you, he can say to me…even though he’s probably already said it to me…because we’re homies,” Michael concluded, folding his arms across his chest. 

Jim rubbed his forehead in exasperation.  “Look, let me just sign these things and then I’ll come to talk to you—“ Jim stopped mid-sentence as Michael snatched the documents from Toby’s hands.  “Or you can invade my privacy, sure.”

Michael scanned over the papers.  “Well, well, well, it looks like you and Ms. Fillipelli are no longer registered as a couple.  I think I know what that means, you dog!”  Michael rustled Jim’s hair and laughed maniacally.  Jim was incredibly grateful Karen had left for lunch and would be spared the humiliation of seeing their breakup celebrated by the most tactless man in the world.

“I guess we know why Pam didn’t come in to work today, probably too sore to walk…” Michael muttered, playfully jabbing his elbow into Jim’s arm.

“Michael, that’s really inappropriate,” Toby weakly chastised.

“Shut it, Toby.  Just because you’re not getting any doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate those who are.” 

Jim dropped his face in his hands, lacking the energy to argue.  Toby merely rolled his eyes and took the papers back from Michael, handing them to Jim.

“Just have them signed by the end of the day,” he said dejectedly as he walked away.  Jim nodded in compliance before looking back at Michael who held out a clenched fist, waiting for Jim to hit it with his own.  Instead, Jim turned back to his computer, concentrating hard on the work in front of him until he heard Michael finally walk back into his office.  

xxx


“You brought me soup!” Pam took the grocery bag from a smiling Jim at her front door.

“And,” he said, reaching into the other bag in his hand.  “Gatorade.”  Pam made a face as she shuffled back into her bedroom.

“I know you don’t like it, but you can’t get dehydrated.  Besides, I got you the Very Berry flavor,” Jim said following her, holding up the bottle with pride.

Pam nestled back into her bed with a smile.  “Well I suppose if it’s Very Berry…” she winked at him.  “So how was work?”

“Let’s see, where to begin,” munching on a bag of chips he had picked up for himself.  “Karen took the initiative to deal with HR about us not being together anymore.”  Pam winced at the sound of her name.

“Don’t worry, she’s actually handling it really well.  We talked a bit today and I think we’re on good terms,” Jim reassured.   “But Toby also needed my signature on the whole thing and of course who should appear just as he walks over but…”

“Michael,” Pam finished for him, shaking her head in dismay. 

“You bet.  He made this huge deal about it and speculated that the reason you didn’t come in today was because you were ‘too sore to walk.’”

Pam scoffed.  “Don’t I wish.”  Jim nearly choked on a chip and looked at her incredulously.  What little color she had left in her face had drained and her eyes were wide.

“I didn’t mean—no, I meant that—instead of me throwing up—“ Pam buried her face in her hands with a groan.

Jim smiled and rubbed his hand across her back.  “Don’t worry about it.  Though I must say, I’m glad you have enough confidence in my skills to think that I could actually do that…”

Pam grabbed a pillow and hit him playfully.  “Not funny!”  Jim just laughed more before holding up his hands.

“Okay, okay, I surrender.  I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Tell you what, I’ll go make this soup for you.  When I get back, I’ll tell you what I have planned for Dwight tomorrow.”

Pam’s face brightened.  “Deal.”

Jim fumbled his way around Pam’s kitchen, trying to find bowls and silverware without having to disturb her.  It made him feel good to take care of her, as he had always promised himself that he would if he ever got the chance.  Now that that chance was here, he had no intention of letting it slip away.  He made his way back into her bedroom, soup in hand, to find her fast asleep.  Though he could see that her sickness had taken a toll on her, she still looked angelic with her brown curls framing her face as they splayed out across her pillow.  Jim set the bowl down on her nightstand and kneeled down so he was at eye-level with her.  He stroked her face lightly and kissed her on the cheek causing her to stir. 

“Jim?” she whispered, her eyes still closed.

“It’s okay, go back to bed.  Your soup is next to you when you’re ready for it.  Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”  He got up to leave but felt her hand grasp his.

“Stay with me?” she asked quietly, now looking at him in a way that let him know she didn’t just mean for the night.

He smiled and nodded.  “Of course.”