Jim turned down the radio as he swung into the empty parking spot nearest Pam's apartment.

“So I guess I'll see you around nine then?” he said, pulling up on the emergency brake and turning slightly in his seat to look at her. “I was thinking if I ordered some pizza around eight-thirty it should arrive around the same time you do.”

Pam gave him an apologetic smile. “I don't know,” she sighed softly. “It's been such a tiring day, and I'm so behind in laundry and I've got a project due on Thursday that I haven't even started yet.”

Jim's brow furrowed. “What are you saying?”

Pam's eyes focused on the living room window of her apartment. “I was just thinking that tonight I'd stay home and get caught up on stuff.”

“Oh.”

Pam hated when Jim said “Oh.” How someone could manage to cram that much sadness and despair and the image of homeless orphans into a two letter word was beyond her. She was pretty sure he didn't do it on purpose, but just the way he'd let the h-sound linger in the air was like releasing a mushroom cloud of guilt on her shoulders.

“Hey, it's just for tonight, Jim. I've been spending so much time at your place that it looks like a land mine went off in mine.”

“Sure, of course,” Jim nodded, trying not to sound as deflated as he felt. “I was just surprised. You totally should.”

Pam couldn't help but smile as his failing bravado. “You'll be fine. You probably could use a night away from me anyway.”

Jim rubbed his chin. “I wouldn't go that far. It's going to seem kinda strange.”

Pam knew he was right. Since they'd gotten together over six months ago – wow, was it really already six months?! - they'd only been apart about a dozen nights, and most of those were at the beginning when they foolishly tried to talk themselves into taking thing slow. In fact Pam hadn't had a bed all to herself since she visited her parents in Harrisburg three weekends ago. It was been her parents' wedding anniversary, and she went for a small family-only celebration. She wanted to bring Jim, but it would have been his first introduction to her father, and she had been expected to stay at the house. Even though she was all of twenty-eight, she still felt like a teenage around her father sometimes, and the thought of having Jim stay with her on his first visit just didn't seem like the right thing to do. So she went alone and missed him terribly. She texted him during the party, then talked to him on the phone well into the early hours of the morning. Having realized her mistake, before she'd left she made it clear to her mother that Jim would be coming with her for the holiday visit, so she'd better start prepping her father. After everything with Roy, her dad was even more protective of his beloved middle child.

Her mind speeding through that memory, her resolve softened. “Do you want me come over and tuck you in?” She teased.

“Not if you're going to be all condescending about it,” he replied with mock hurt. “I'll be just fine without you, thank you very much.”

“No, you won't,” she giggled.

“No, I won't,” he agreed, laughing as well.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek, cupping his face with her hand. “Okay, fine. How about I call you when I'm done and you can come over here. You'll have to stay out of my way because I really do need to get things done tonight.”

“I can help, you know,” he offered.

“Right,” she grinned, unbuckling her seat belt to get out of the car. “Somehow your help always seems to lead to other things.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jim replied as seriously as he could.

“Of course you don't,” Pam said, opening the door. “But funny how things never get done when you're around.” She leaned over and kissed him again, then got out of the car. “I'll call you when I'm home.”

Jim sat waiting as he watched her get into her own car and head toward her art class. He knew she was teasing, but it stung just a little that she'd said she never got anything done with him around. Was it his fault she was so damn beautiful without even trying? He shifted into reverse to head home, and his knee jangled the keys as he moved his leg from the brake to the gas pedal. The noise reminded him of something, and he pulled back into the parking space. He didn't need to go anywhere. He had her key now. And he was about to prove to her just how helpful he could be.

====

Pam fought a yawn as she made a left turn onto the main drive of her apartment complex. She was happy that she only had classes twice a week this semester, but by the end of those days she was always practically one of the walking dead. Tuesday night's seminar was called Light and Dark, and it was a mixed media presentation of using color (and the absence of it) to convey thoughts and emotions. She was thinking about the photos she was going to need to sort through to start her project for that class when she saw Jim's car still sitting in the parking space she'd left him in. She was surprised, but couldn't help grinning at his impatience. She was even more surprised when she pulled her car up next to his and saw he wasn't there as she expected. Then she glanced up at her living room window and saw the warm light spilling out through curtains not quite closed. She smiled and hit the first speed dial number on her cell phone.

“Hey,” his deep familiar voice answered.

“Hey,” she replied, walking quietly toward her door. “Have you managed without me okay?”

“Oh, I've done alright.”

“Good,” she said, putting her key into the front door lock. “Did you still want to come over?” She pushed open the door to see Jim standing in her kitchen, his back toward her, cell phone to his ear.

He turned around at the noise, a guilty smile crossing his face. “I was thinking I might stop by,” he replied.

Pam leaned back against the door to shut it as she turned off her cell phone. “What are you doing?” She asked, dropping her bag and coat in a pile on the floor, “and more importantly, what smells so good?”

Jim captured her mid-living room in a big hug. “Just trying to prove myself useful,” he told her, “since you seem to think nothing gets done when I'm around.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” she said, her arms remaining firmly around his neck.

“No?”

“No,” she replied, her fingers unable to resist playing with the curls at the back of his neck. “It's just that you can be terribly distracting.”

“Really? How so?”

She smiled up at him, then peered around him and into the kitchen. “What did you make for dinner?”

“You know, maybe it's less about me being distracting and more about you being so easily distracted,” he laughed, as she finally pushed passed him and headed for the kitchen.

“Ah, I thought it was pasta,” she declared triumphantly, pot lid in her hand.

“Do you buy anything but spiral pasta?” Jim complained as he joined her in the kitchen.

“No,” she explained, “because spirals catch the sauce better.” She sniffed the aroma wafting from the pasta and frowned. “Where's the garlic smell coming from?”

Jim placed his hands on her shoulders and steered her toward the table. “Just go sit down and you'll find out.”

“Did you get garlic bread?” She continued. “I don't think I had garlic bread in the freezer.”

“You didn't. Now please go sit down.”

As Pam obediently headed to the table, she glanced around the living room and wondered why everything looked different. She practically jumped out of her chair when she realized what was off. “Where's all my stuff?” She exclaimed.

The living room as she had left it the day before was nearly an eco-system unto itself. Dirty tea mugs rested on discarded newspapers, balled up sketch paper looked like miniature tumbleweeds under the coffee table. Piles of ignored junk mail and catalogs had been scattered over the couch, the chair and the tables. She cringed at the thought that Jim had witnessed it, much less taken it upon himself to clean it all up. It even looked like he'd vacuumed. She groaned in embarrassment.

“You didn't seriously think it took me three hours to make pasta?” He grinned, gently pushing her back down onto the dining room chair.

“You really didn't have to do that,” she replied.

“I know,” he agreed. “But it's nice to be useful.” As if on cue a timer dinged. “Oh, time to switch things around. I'll be right back.”

Pam turned and watched him head down the hallway. “What are you doing?” she called. When he didn't reply she got up and followed him. She found him standing in the oversized closet she liked to call the laundry room.

“What are you doing?” She repeated, despite clearly having the answer in front of her.

“It's the last load,” he explained, piling the wet clothes into the dryer. “I wasn't sure where you put everything, so the rest is on your bed.”

Pam turned and walked the few steps to her bedroom, flicking on the light as she entered. To her utter amazement stacks of neatly folded clothes sat atop her bed, separated by type: shirts, skirts, jeans, and lingerie.

“I have to say I don't recall ever seeing that interesting purple number,” Jim said, now standing behind her. She saw he was pointing to a satin chemise-type nightgown lying on the bed.

“Oh, that,” Pam nodded dumbly. “That's new. I was saving it for something special.”

“Ah, well it was near the laundry pile,” Jim shrugged. “So I guess it's new and freshly washed now.”

Pam brought her hand to her mouth to cover the smile that was growing as the knowledge of what he'd done for her continued to sink in. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

“What?”

“You did all my laundry.”

“Yep,” he nodded, moving closer behind her to wrap his arms around her shoulders.

“And you cleaned up all that crap in the living room,” she continued.

“And I made you dinner.” He nodded and kissed her shoulder. “Hey - since when have you been able to buy 'just add water' mixes of those Red Lobster biscuits?!”

He sounded so outraged she burst out laughing. “Since forever,” she told him, leaning against his chest. “You need to pay more attention in the grocery store. So that explains the garlic I smelled.”

“Crap!” He exclaimed, “I forgot they're still in the oven!”

Pam followed Jim into the kitchen where much to their relief the garlic cheddar biscuits had not burned. Pam gingerly took one off the pan to taste.

“Perfect,” she declared after it had cooled down enough to be eaten.

“Eh, A little overdone, perhaps, but still perfectly edible.”

“Stop that.”

“What?”

“Quit belittling your efforts.” Pam licked her fingers of the biscuit crumbs and put her arms around him. “This is absolutely perfect. All of it."

Jim returned her hug and kissed her forehead. “So it was okay that I just barged into your apartmet and did all this?”

“Definitely,” she nodded, cuddling closer. “I could definitely get used to this.”

“Good,” he replied softly. “Good.”