- Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:

Just some fluff. I decided to take a break from the angst. I'm not wild about the title, but my first choice was taken. There's not much to it because I didn't know where to go with it. This was all that came out, so it's all there is. Please review (and thanks for reading even if you don't)! Enjoy!

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.

The bright yellow light warms her as it pours through the window, spilling into the room. The soft fabric of the pillowcase is cool against her face. She is dimly aware of fingertips gentling grazing her back as she shifts to let her hand reach up and make contact with tousled silken strands.

He's still sleeping, a half-smile on his lips, and she pulls him closer to her, nestling her head under his chin, repositioning herself so that she feels his warm skin against hers from head to toe.

She hears him murmur something in his sleep, feels his arms tighten around her.

She moves her hand to his bare chest, tracing a path from his collarbone to the spot just below his ribcage, where she stops, letting her hand settle there. She inhales deeply, taking in the scent of him, the feeling of this moment. The feeling of finally waking up next to him.

This is something she's wanted for a long time - much longer than is appropriate considering she'd been engaged to another man for most of that time.

She lets out a sigh of contentment as a slow smile makes its way across her face and she drifts off into the memory of the previous night.

*****

It's late when she finally gets there. So late that she considers turning around, getting back in her car, returning to Scranton and her old life of boring predictability. She stops halfway to his door, has to force herself to continue moving, to take the final four steps towards his door, towards him, towards them.

She reaches for the doorbell, pausing momentarily to look towards the window. She can see a pale yellow light peeking through the slats of his blinds, can see him moving around, his shadow casting a sharp silhouette against stark white walls.

She suddenly realizes her pause has become much more, realizes she's starting to feel like a stalker, and moves her index finger the remaining three inches towards the doorbell.

But she can't tear her eyes from the window, from the sight of him, and she sees him jump at the unexpected sound of tinny bells, amplified by the dark silence of night.

He reaches for the doorknob and glances out the row of windows cut out of the door at eye level. He freezes when he sees her, his heart pounding a staccato beat in his chest, his knuckles turning white as his hand tightens its grip on the doorknob, the cool metal digging into his flesh.

He knows she and Roy are over, have been for a while - one month? two? - and he feels a tiny glimmer of hope spark back to life in his chest.

*****

Jim wakes to the feel of her hand moving down his chest, coming to a rest just above his abdomen. He breathes deeply, inhaling the scent of her shampoo, the complete bliss of this moment.

He holds his breath, afraid that even the simple act of exhaling will scare the moment away. He lets it soak in, takes in the feel of his arms around her, her hair on his chest, her body against his.

He exhales slowly as he realizes that this is really it. This is really real.

Finally.

*****

He opens the door, steps back, lets his eyes wander over her face, taking her in. She raises her eyes and they meet his, stopping her heart and his breath.

She exhales a sigh of relief. Behind the widened eyes, the perfect circle of shock formed by his lips, the stoic stone of calculated indifference, there is love. She can see it in his eyes.

It's always in his eyes.

He knows she's not married, knows they broke up. He knows she's been quiet, moody, since he left. He knows she spends plenty of time staring at his old, empty desk, knows that a deep crimson climbs up her cheeks whenever he calls for Michael.

Phyllis always has been observant.

It's not that he enlisted her help as his spy. She volunteered for the job. Forced herself on him, actually. He pretends he doesn't read her emails, pretends he doesn't care that she tells him Pam is unhappy without him.

But he does. And Phyllis knows he does. And he knows she knows he does. But he doesn't care. So Phyllis keeps sending him emails and he keeps pretending to ignore them and they both act like it doesn't matter. Like he hasn't been aware of exactly what's been going on with Pam. Like getting those emails aren't the highlight of his day.

Still, he's surprised to see Pam here, at his door.

He studies her face, his eyes locked on her, drinking in the sight of her as her gaze wanders down his body. He tries to stay strong, tries to pretend like the last couple of months haven't felt torturous without her playful voice and smiling eyes.

But when she looks up, her eyes full of hope and love and fear, he knows it's over. Even this minute of pretending is too much for him. He can't pretend for even one more second that he wouldn't give up everything to be with her for an instant.

She takes a tentative step forward, closes the door behind her, and lets go of everything that has ever held her feelings for Jim in check, everything that has ever told her it was wrong to love him.

She watches his face as she moves towards him, her mouth set in a determined line. She can already see his tough exterior cracking, can tell he's no longer telling himself to pretend that she doesn't matter, that her visit means nothing.

All she wants is to feel his arms around her again, feel the strength and love his embrace can provide. She feels herself pulled towards him, as though there's an invisible elastic band connecting them. It's been pulled taut with wanting and waiting and time, and now it's recoiling, moving their hearts back together twice as quickly as they moved apart.

She closes the gap between them, throwing her arms around him, burying her face in his neck as he loses himself in her hair. His arms tighten around her as he exhales her name and the world comes crashing to a halt. All that exists are her and him and this moment, this incredible and dizzying sensation of falling and coming home.

*****

Matching grins of contentment ease their way across their faces as they each allow the previous night to replay in their heads. Salty tears sliding down happy faces as they share second kisses and first tastes, stolen looks and silenced worries. Whispered promises and mirrored dreams.

They each snuggle in closer, each careful not to wake the other, wanting to live forever in this moment, to let this new favorite memory sear itself into their minds, into their hearts.




Smurfette729 is the author of 14 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 14 members. Members who liked A New Favorite Memory also liked 2463 other stories.


You must login (register) to review or leave jellybeans