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Story Notes:

This story came about after I got to thinking about Pam's conversation with Jim at Reception during "Chair Model." I thought it was interesting that she was the one to (seemingly first) bring up moving in together and marriage, and not Jim. And since I love writing worried, neurotic Pam Beesly, this is a quick and short attempt to explain her actions a little.

 

Author's Chapter Notes:

 

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.

Obviously, spoilers for "Chair Model"

 

 

 

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Pam turned her attention away from the blind-slit streetlight that hazily lit the ceiling of the bedroom, and toward Jim….and the strange spectrum of sounds that was coming from him.

She knew them all of course, every grumble, sigh, cough, contented murmur, and pitch of snore he could have. She had started learning ever since they’d spent their first night together and any pretense of not wanting to spend subsequent nights with one another had vanished. After that they’d begun trading off which ones they spent at her place, and which ones they spent at his.

And she liked that.

Though there had been a flicker of doubt in her mind, when they’d first started, whether or not spending literally all day with each other would cause problems. Or, well, if she was being honest with herself, she had worried whether or not he’d get annoyed or angry or bored of her. Because she really only had so many jokes, topics of discussion, or well-prepared effortless wit to go around, and that was usually burned out by the time the sun went down.

So then if was fortunate that her and Jim weren’t built on that kind of stuff. Sure it had been what had initially brought them together in the office, and it was still what kept her sane some days when she had to deal with Michael or the cameras, but they were beyond that too.

Like tonight, they’d cooked dinner together, watched Amelie because she’d won Rock-Paper-Scissors, and then she’d painted some while he read.

It sounded boring, and it was the kind of quietness that she had worried about. A sort of cooling of the ashes after a vivid, passionate, wild fire….

But it wasn’t bad. In fact, it was kind of amazing. Because passion was wonderful and the nights where they’d end up with their sweat-slick legs lazily moving against one another as they mumbled half-formed syllables of love to each other because they were too tired and sated to do anything else…..well, she never took that for granted.

Still, there was something in just having him near, when nothing of any great importance was happening that made her feel a sense of permanence. Of them together, like this, for the rest of their lives.

But, of course, she was a woman. And that’s the kind of stuff that woman think about, right? She was pretty sure that guys didn’t do that. At least Roy hadn’t….and she knew, like, really knew, that Roy wasn’t Jim, but that didn’t stop the fact that she wondered if Jim had felt that sense of contentment and of permanence too.

But, God, why did she have to bring it up at the office in front of the cameras?

Seriously, what the hell? What was wrong with her? She needed….

She continued to look at Jim, his arms still outstretched slightly towards her, even though she had rolled out of his grasp hours ago. Because she’d been fidgety, restless, and unable to go to sleep.

And now, as she turned away from him, put her feet on the floor and pushed off from the bed, she saw it was 2:12 in the morning.

She knew what she needed, or thought she did. Whenever she’d had nights like this before, when the thoughts of the day were freight-training through her mind and keeping her awake, she’d just write them down.

She’d done it when she was with Roy, and when she’d been single and Jim was in Stamford, or here with Karen. They were neat volumes of confusion, anger, sadness, despair, wondering, worrying….anything that she couldn’t tell anyone else.

They sat now in the back of her closet, in a box, with an old cardigan strategically placed over them. She’d never told Jim about them, or Roy for that matter, and she thought it was best to keep it that way. It wasn’t a matter of trust, at least with Jim, but it also wasn’t as if the past mattered like it once had.

The whole reason she couldn’t sleep was about the future anyway. And for that kind of neuroses, she needed something to keep up with the speed of her thoughts, something that could go ninety words a minute.

After draining the last bit of the orange juice from the carton, without a glass, because who cared about things like that after two AM? She grabbed her glasses off the coffee table, swept her now-frizzy hair away from her eyes and behind her ears, and sat down in front of her laptop.

She paused for a moment, looking in the bluish glow of the monitor towards the hallway that led to the bedroom, making sure that Jim wasn’t coming out to bust her for typing like a madwoman on a computer in the dark at two something in the morning. Then she began to type, as if she was having a conversation with herself, hoping that maybe it could shake something loose inside of her and then maybe, finally, she could go back to where she belonged. Asleep next to Jim.

 

I don’t know what I’m doing.

I feel like one of those tuning forks that we used to use in science class, where you’d tap them or something and then they’d hum and vibrate for like five minutes afterwards. Except, with this, its like I’m one that Jim used to hit a hundred mile per hour fastball.. (I know this is what happens when your boyfriend watches the Phillies) Anyway, I’m still, like twelve hours later, just sitting here with a hum and nervous vibration….and I can’t stop it.

But the thing is, I feel kind of guilty. It’s stupid, well, it’s beyond stupid really, but I can’t help it. Because I don’t want to be one of those women. The kind who have a three-year policy, where if the guy doesn’t ask to marry them in that time period they leave. I don’t know, I’ve always found that really creepy, like, as if you’re plotting out a timeline of love or something. Or that all you’re concerned about is getting married, and not how the other person feels at all. I don’t want to be one of those women, and even when I was with Roy, I don’t think I was like that. I mean, maybe a little, but it was definitely longer than three years, you know?

What I’m trying to say, or type, is that I felt like one of those women today. The kind that push for commitment from their boyfriends because they’re insecure and don’t know exactly what he’s thinking or planning or plotting. I really hate that I was kind of like that. Because, I mean, really Pam? (Here, I’m speaking in the third-person to myself…I’m going to blame it on the fact its almost 2:30) Its not like I don’t know exactly what Jim has sacrificed, or how he feels about me. And more than that, I believe him too. Its not like I have doubts or anything….but yet, here I am, bringing up moving in together and engagements…..in front of the cameras, at my Reception desk of all places.

And that’s what I hate. Because I should be absolutely on cloud nine or wherever it is that happy people are. No, I should be asleep in Jim’s arms, in my bed….right now. But I’m not….I’m here typing like a crazy woman, because I feel like saying that I wasn’t going to move in with him unless I was engaged was wrong.

That’s not to say, you know, that it’s wrong for everyone. I’m sure a lot of women feel that way, and I’m sure a lot would look at it as the right thing to do (like Angela). But, God, he surprised me by agreeing so quickly and what the hell was I going to do? And why the hell did I say that?

Because here’s the truth, and it’s the one that I didn’t tell him tonight, which I should have. I absolutely would move in with him. Right now. But I think, even though I really don’t want it to be true, that there were two reasons why I said what I said.

Reason #1 (oh, by the way, can you tell that I have a tendency to overanalyze things?)

Roy.

I really hate to blame Roy for anything, and I hate even more when I compare him to Jim, but there it is. I lived with Roy for eight years, engaged for like three….and I think I’m scared that if we move in together, then that’s it. Isn’t that stupid? I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I know that part of me is worried that moving in with Jim could turn into a thing where seven years from now we’re still just living together, and my mom is not so subtly dropping hints in every conversation we have about marriage and babies and stuff.

Reason #2- And this one makes me a bad person, I know. But….I wanted to see how he’d react. And this makes me Kelly Kapoor.


*Sigh*

(Yes, I just typed “sigh”….its emphasizing my angst over this whole thing)

I don’t know, it’s just….I wanted to see if he was thinking about it. And then he agreed so fast, and I was just thrown completely off guard. I mean, I guess I thought he might say yes, because we spend practically every night together anyway, but he was just so cool about it, you know? So Jim. So ready, and then I begin stammering about engagements!

I’m pretty sure the rule of thumb is something like….

“If your completely amazing boyfriend who you’re crazily in love with, and who loves you back, asks you to move in with him….you nod ‘yes’.”

Unless you’re Pam Beesly, in which case you blackmail him with engagement because you’re a crazy woman.

Alright, well, I didn’t blackmail him, I know, but I still feel guilty. I mean, moving in together and then marriage? I’m like a nightmare girlfriend. The kind that calls you twenty-seven times after a first date or something.

And maybe that’s why I can’t sleep. Because I lied to him, about moving in, and about this sudden policy that I created in my head in a fit of panic because I lived too long with my ex-boyfriend.

Because, if you think about it, and I’m seriously praying that Jim doesn’t….when you say that you don’t want to move in with someone unless your engaged….you’re basically saying ‘I don’t trust you.’(unless your religious, I guess, but I only go to Church once a year on Christmas Eve) And, he knows I lived with Roy when I wasn’t engaged, so what does he think about the fact that I won’t with him? That I trusted Roy and not him?

I just don’t know. I don’t know why I said that, and what he’s thinking. Which I also hate. Because I went for so long not knowing what he was thinking, and now that we’re finally together, I don’t want it to be like that.

And I know, I know that his reaction should tell me what he’s thinking, but just because someone acts one way, doesn’t mean they can’t think someway else.

For example: I said I don’t want to move in with Jim even though I currently have five sets of clothes, a toothbrush, underwear, shoes, tampons, and a blanket my mom knitted for me at his place. And oh, also, I WANT TO MOVE IN WITH HIM.

I know I could just tell him. Tell him that I was joking, or that I’d move in with him. But I know what he’d say. He’s just say that I meant what I said, and that it was fine.

I guess, I’m just going to have to forget about this. There isn’t anything else to do. And I’m going to have to trust that he’s not as crazy as I am, and won’t over-analyze every word I said. Or, that he’ll understand that I still have residual insanity from Roy. Or that he won’t see it as badly as I’m thinking it might be…

Because the thing that really matters, is….

 

JIM HALPERT SAID THAT HE PLANS TO ASK ME TO MARRY HIM!

 

I feel like that should be in loopy cursive, written in glitter ink, and with some hearts around it. Seriously. I don’t even….I mean, holy shit. Its not like I haven’t thought about it, like, a lot.

But it’s still so unbelievable. I mean, a little over half a year ago we were barely talking and he was headed to NYC with Karen. And now we’re talking about marriage. It’s so fast! And, not bad fast. Seriously, not bad fast. But, just, not-used-to-it-because-I-was-engaged-for-three-plus-years-before fast.

I’m ready for it. I really am. When he kneeled down on our way to the car tonight, I almost stared to cry because it was so unbelievable. How could I be this lucky? How is it that Jim loves me? Me! Pam Beesly, the woman who acted the way she did for years, and continues to this day to act stupidly….how is this amazing man in love with me? I mean, he has seen me when I first wake up, right?

Because, seriously, who actually gets what they want? We daydream, we wish, we hope….but what do you do when all of those actually come true? I don’t know, I guess you just say ‘yes’ Right? Its funny, I’m actually looking forward more to saying yes than to actually hearing how he’s going to ask me. It’s just, after that night I said no, and the way I did it….I know that’s in the past, and it doesn’t matter…..but still, I don’t want to hesitate, or panic, or give him a second of doubt.

I love him, and I just….I guess it’s just truly and honestly amazing that we’re here. I don’t know of any other way to say it. And I hope that he doesn’t think that I’m pushing him towards anything, or that I don’t love him enough to want to move in with him, or that I don’t trust that he won’t become like Roy. Because I do, and I want to, and…..I want him to know that, more than anything I guess.

In fact, I think I’m going to go wake him up and let him know.

And you know, I’ll certainly be tired afterwards……………..

So win-win-win.

 

Chapter End Notes:

 

Thank you for reading, and I hoped you liked it.



dundiefromgod is the author of 23 other stories.
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