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Just a bit of what I had on my mind this morning. EDIT fixed the one paragraph post problem thing that I just saw which makes me type this angry run on sentence

Disclaimer: nothing intened or owned.

He wonders why it took a year. He knows the answer of course. He still can't help but wonder though. The apartment is quiet and dark save for the glare of Conan on his TV in the living room. Its pale glow makes her look like a delicate angel. She is curled up on his couch comfortably asleep. Loose strands of hair fall haphazardly around her face, her breath even and slow. She is the most beautiful woman he has ever known. Absently he wonders if Kevin chose her or Karen. He should wake her up. It is already past midnight and they have to both work in the morning. Watching her from the shadows of the kitchen he taps the top of his can of soda. Just a few more minutes. What would that hurt right?

He is tired. Not just because it's the middle of the night either. The events over the past twelve hours have left him shell-shocked and turned upside-down. He equates it to keeping his back pressed against a door, straining to keep whatever it is on the other side from entering. This is no ordinary door. It is one he is desperate to keep closed. And he succeeds. It remains shut month after month even though there are times where he almost gives in (Oh my god it's really you...I think we broke his brain...I called off my wedding because of you). It is funny that it only took a small circle of gold to finally buckle his knees, allowing the door to whip open and let a flood of memories and feelings crash into him. Why the hell was he in New York? He didn't want to be another Jan Levinson or David Wallace. He didn't even want to be him. He should have thrown himself in front of a bus the second he became Michael's number two. And Karen. He always held out hope she would lighten up more....get more of his jokes. That she would not give him that 'look' when he just wanted to stay in and watch a movie instead of going bar-hopping. In retrospect he hoped she would become more like Pam. Pam would have felt sorry for Jan. Pam would have waited for him while he interviewed. That didn't make Karen a bad person, just a different one.

Jim shakes himself out of his trance as he grabs two cups from a cabinet. He pops the tab on the soda and pours the coke as evenly as he could in the surrounding semi-darkness. He pads his way carefully back over to the couch, careful not to spill anything. He slowly eases himself back down next to her, setting the drinks onto the coffee table. He freezes in place as she stirs a little. Instead of waking up, Pam shifts just enough to where her head rests lightly against his shoulder. He smiles to himself, feeling an irrational giddiness infuse him. He gives her a lot of credit. It only took five hours of being around her again to know how totally in love with her he is. He knows there are some bumps in the road coming up. He knows she still has questions. About New York. About why he left. About Karen. He has questions too. About Casino Night. About why she never called. About why she went back to him (even though he probably knew the answer already...he was at Phyllis' wedding after all). He knows they will get through it. She did say yes. And she is here now, with him. Sighing inwardly, he nudges her slightly with his shoulder. It takes a couple of tries before her head lifts up and her eyes flutter open.

She smiles at him. "Hi."

He smiles back. "Hey."



realitycheck is the author of 12 other stories.
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