Pain. It was the only thing Pam was conscious of as she stumbled into the bathroom, her stomach heaving. She'd suffered a few migraines over the past months, but she could already tell this one was going to be a doozy. Not a good way to start the day. Not a good way at all.

She noticed it was still hours away from her morning alarm by the time she made it back to bed. She tried to find a comfortable position in hopes of feeling better when it was time to get up, but it was not to be. She spent the time between her bed and the bathroom, and knew that there was no way she was going to be able to make it into work. At six o'clock she'd managed to locate her cell phone and bring it back to bed with her. At six-thirty she called the office and left a voicemail for Michael letting him know she wouldn't be in. She thought about calling Jim, but she didn't know if he would be awake yet. She'd call him later, she thought, when she didn't feel so much like death. She couldn't help but wish he was there, though. She hated having to suffer like that alone. She felt so helpless when she had migraines like these, and everything was such an effort. She didn't think she was in a position to ask him to help her, even if things were going so well between them. But she still couldn't help but want him there.

She drifted in and out of consciousness, exhaustion overtaking her between bouts of nausea. She awoke with a start at seven-thirty, which only made her head pound more. She finally gave in and called Jim.

“Hey, what's up?” Jim sounded almost abrasively cheerful at the moment.

“I feel like hell,” she complained. “I have a migraine, and I just wanted you to know that I'm not coming into work. I guess that prank's going to have to wait a day.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said, his voice immediately slipping lower. “I'll be over in a little bit. I'm nearly dressed.”

“No,” Pam replied. “You don't have to do that. I just didn't want you to worry when I didn't show up.”

“Too late for that,” he chuckled. “And I might actually be able to help. I'll see you in a few.”

Jim hung up the phone before Pam could protest again. She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. She knew she looked horrible, and it bothered her enough that she wished she could change, or at least brush her hair. But the thought of moving any more than she absolutely had to seemed like a feat of endurance she had no hopes of completing. She curled herself up into a ball, and accepted that she was going to completely gross him out. Well, it was nice while it lasted, she thought briefly, her pain-filled head coloring her mood fatalistic. It's shame we didn't get to the sex part before I scared him away.

Pam was slowly shuffling out of the bathroom when she heard the knock on her door. Head bowed, hair frizzed and haphazardly sticking out in all directions, and her oversized t-shirt so old and faded it wasn't even funny, Pam opened the door and stood back to let Jim in.

“Man, you do look like hell, Pam,” he said with a grin as she shut the door.

“Thanks,” she replied sourly, barely looking at him as she made her way to her bed. She knew he was just teasing her, but she felt so overwhelmed she wanted to cry. She would have, too, had it not hurt so much to do so. Instead she slid into bed and pulled the blanket up over her head. “You've had your peek at the freak show, so you can just let yourself out,” she said from under the covers.

Jim sat down on the side of the bed, and slowly pulled the comforter back. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, gentle affection obvious in his voice. “I shouldn't have said that. But it's definitely obvious you aren't well.”

Pam's hand was over her eyes, blocking the light that was peeking through the blinds. “I'll be fine,” she grumbled. “You really don't have to worry about me.”

“Well at least let me try and make you a little more comfortable, okay?”

Pam groaned and turned her face into the pillow a little more. “Good luck with that,” she murmured.

Jim smiled then stood up and looked around her room. “Where do you keep your bedsheets?”

“Hall closet,” Pam mumbled as she sat up, then hurried from her bed towards the bathroom. Jim frowned as he watched her, following behind. He pulled her hair gently back as she leaned over the toilet, and found an elastic band on the vanity to secure it loosely. He left to get the bedsheets and give her some privacy, and when Pam finally came back to bed her room was noticeably darker.

“What did you do?”

“I hung some sheets off your curtain rods to keep the light out. You really should invest in something other than facy lace sheers.” He walked over to her bed, and handed her a glass of water from the nightstand. “Here, I took the chance you might appreciate me bringing these.” He put two little pills in her hand.

“What are they?”

“They're for the nausea. It's Dramamine.”

“Oh,” she said, swallowing them with a small sip of water. She expected them to come right back up, but figured it didn't hurt to try.

“The good thing is that they'll probably make you sleepy, too.”

Pam eased herself slowly down. “That sounds good.”

Jim sat down on the bed. “Wait, I have something else for you” He produced two silver pouches from his messenger bag. He ripped them open, and took out what looked like gel patches. “Feeling cool can also help,” he told Pam as he peeled the backing off one of the patches. “These are kinda like gel ice packs. Even better than wet cloth - they stay where you put them and they don't make your pillow all wet.” He leaned over and placed on Pam's forehead, causing her to sigh audibly.

“Oh, that does feels nice,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Here, turn on your side. The other one goes on the back of your neck.”

“How do you know all this?”

“My mom used to get a lot of migraines when I was in high school. I spent a lot of time caring for her.” Jim smoothed the other gel patch against the back of her neck, then reached for Pam's hand and held it both of his. “I picked up a few tricks along the way, I guess.”

“I'm sorry to hear your mom suffered with them too.”

“Yeah, I know how much pain she was in, and I really hate thinking of you going through the same thing.”

Pam turned onto her side facing him. “I'll be okay,” she said softly, still holding on to his hand tightly.

“Do you get them a lot?” Jim asked. “I don't remember you having them before - before now.”

“Sometimes,” Pam replied. “They've been a little more frequent lately.”

They sat in silence for a little while, Pam's eyes closing in an attempt to fall back to sleep. Jim watched her briefly, then finally spoke again. “Do you know what's causing them? I mean, is there a pattern to them? Some women get them every month, you know, before - “

“Oooh,” Pam groaned loudly, surprising Jim. “We are so not having this conversation.”

Jim couldn't help but laugh. “I”m just saying that if it's hormone related, there are things you can do about them. I mean, some people take birth control pills to prevent them.”

“Thank you, doctor. It's not related.” Pam turned over, groaning. “I'm already on them anyway.”

“Oh.” Jim had no real response to this newly gleaned fact. “Um, okay then.”

“Anyway,” Pam continued, her back now facing him. “You probably should get to work. Thanks for coming over.”

“Yeah, you're probably right. But I'll be back in a few hours to check on you.”

“You don't have to.”

“Oh, but I do.” He stood up, then leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek.

He was walking out of her room when he turned back suddenly. “Hey, I know this probably sounds a little odd, but would you mind if I take your key with me? That way I don't have to wake you to open the door.”

“Purse on the table,” she replied. “Just don't give a copy to Dwight. Or Michael.”

“No promises,” Jim laughed. “And you'll call me if you need anything?”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbled. The Dramamine was already starting to take effect, and Pam pulled the blanket up higher under her chin.

Pam rolled back to her left side, aware that while her head was still pounding, her stomach was not so bad. She opened her eyes and was surprised to find Jim sitting in a chair next to her bed. “Why are you still here?”

Jim smiled. “Still here? Pam, I left and came back already. How are you feeling?”

“My head still hurts but my stomach's better. What time is it?”

“About ten-thirty.”

“Oh, wow. That stuff must have knocked me out.”

“Good. You can take more every four to six hours, so take more at noon. It would probably be a good idea even if you don't feel nauseous, just to be safe.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Pam managed a small smile. “Whatever you say.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Jim grinned, leaning over to pull off the ice gel on her forehead. “Let's change these while I'm here.”

He placed a large glass of ice water on the table next to her bed, and told her that when she was better she was going to the doctor's to get some migraine medication for next time. “There's no need to suffer if you don't have to.”

“I know,” she admitted. “I just never thought about it until I needed it.”

“How have you managed to survive all this time on your own, Beesly?” He teased. “You clearly need someone looking after you.”

“Clearly,” she replied, running her fingers over the coolness of the gel patch on her forehead. “Thank god this didn't happen last Tuesday.”

“Exactly,” he said softly, his expression sad for the briefest of moments. He kissed her good-bye. “See you at lunch.”

Jim's lunchtime visit went unnoticed by Pam, who had taken the Dramamine earlier than advised and then promptly fell into a deep, deep sleep. Even when Jim placed a trail of kisses along the bridge of her nose she still didn't stir. He left her a note, and a fresh glass of water, and went back to work.

When Pam finally woke again, it was nearing two-thirty. She saw Jim's note and as she sat up to read it (a classic Jim stick figure holding flowers along with a scrawled message to “Be a good girl and drink your water”), she realized she was no longer in any real pain. She still felt tired, but no headache. She closed her eyes momentarily and thought how good not feeling pain could be. Then she reached for her cell phone.

“Hey there,” he said. “I was just about to come and see you. What do you need?”

“Nothing. I just thought you'd like to know what a wonderful doctor you are. My migraine appears to be gone.”

“Excellent - how do you feel?”

“Just a bit worn out, but that's usual.”

“So you don't need me to bring you anything right now?”

Pam thought he almost sounded let down. “Not right now,” she told him. “But if you feel up to it, you could come over after work and I'll treat you to a thank you meal for all your help.”

“Hmm...that sounds appealing. But you really should take it easy tonight.”

“Oh, I was going to. Pizza is just a phone call away.”

Jim laughed. “You've got a date then.”

“Thanks again, Jim. I really appreciate you coming over. It was nice to be looked after.” Pam let out a small laugh. “I'd almost forgotten what a mother hen you can be.”

“It's a skill I really only seem to put to use when I'm around you,” he replied. He paused for a moment then added, “It's nice to be needed, I think.”

“It is,” she agreed. “And it's really nice to have you back.”