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Story Notes:
Spoilers through Gay Witch Hunt. Oneshot. Short.
Author's Chapter Notes:

Wow, I'm going to have to start paying my muse overtime. This one was inspired by a very pleasant dream I had once, in which I was Pam. Enjoy!

 Disclaimer: I own less than nothing. This isn't even my computer...or my apartment...

She’s at reception when he comes up behind her.

Silent and solid.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t touch her. But she’s knows he’s there.

She can always feel him.

It’s in the way he looks at her, fire shooting from his eyes. She can feel him on the back of her neck. His presence is electrifying. It sends chills up her spine and makes her skin pulse, warm and ready for contact.

The hair on her neck dances and she knows he’s close.

He shifts slightly, moving his head to one side as he presses closer. She holds in a whimper of frustration when he stops, mere millimeters of space between them.

Her body tenses. The air between them feels as solid as a brick wall. Strong and steady and everything he is.

She sways slightly. She thinks that if only he would move in just a little closer, she might faint.

And suddenly he is touching her and the world melts away, vanishes into vapor and mist.

He’s grazing her arms with his fingertips, their warm skin barely making contact. The sensation sends an icy chill through her body as her heart pounds in her chest and rings in her ears.

There’s nothing. No office, no desks. Just the two of them and the breath of space that exists between them.

She feels his silent whisper behind her ear. His cheek lightly grazes hers and she loses herself completely.

Nothing exists. Nothing, except them and this moment and this light friction of his skin sliding over hers.

Her cheek burns white hot where they connect, her arms tingle where his fingertips continue their journey.

Up and down. Up and down. Slow. Sure. So light, so unbelievably gentle, she wouldn’t be sure he was touching her at all if not for the soft hum coursing through her body and the goose bumps his touch leaves in it‘s wake.

She turns her head slightly into him and feels the slight stubble he’d acquired during the day graze her cheek, a gentle reminder that they are real.

She breathes him in. The mingling of his shampoo and aftershave with the scent that is so uniquely him makes her dizzy.

She turns her head further, searching, desperate for more contact.

 

BBRRRIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGG!!!!!

The ringing phone jolts her. Her pounding heart now having nothing to do with Jim, she shakes her head as she realizes she’s been staring at Ryan.

Ryan, who now sits where he used to sit.

Ryan, who is looking back at her, confused and slightly annoyed.

Ryan, who seems to have replaced him everywhere but in her heart.

Because he’s not here.

He’s gone.

Gone to Stamford.

Not here.

She shakes her head in frustration, angry at herself.

Every day. Every single day. Every day, it’s the same thing.

She swallows the lump in her throat that reminds her of what she’s lost and answers the phone, failing to keep a trace of bitterness out of her voice.

 

Chapter End Notes:

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Smurfette729 is the author of 14 other stories.



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