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Saturday was overcast, so I slept later than I would normally; when I woke up I was surprised to see it was after eleven. Jim was gone, his side of the bed cold from his absence.
A flash of panic washed over me for an instant and I shot up straight, looking around wildly for evidence he was still here. He wouldn’t have left. Don’t freak out. There was his shirt and sweater on the floor. There were his impossibly enormous shoes, cast off at the foot of the bed.
Okay. He was here somewhere, in the bathroom, or …what’s that smell? Mmm. Coffee. I rolled over with a sigh, pressing my face into his pillow to inhale his scent, and stretched and yawned and marveled at how I could feel every muscle in my body.
So, that happened. I felt a slow lazy grin curve my lips. Yesterday I was wondering how I was ever going to find the strength to plaster on a smile and wish him luck in his new life, and this morning he was making coffee in my kitchen. Life is nothing if not full of surprises.
I slipped out of bed and pulled on Jim’s white dress shirt as I padded to the bathroom, smiling at how oversized it was on me. Even rolled up, the sleeves came to my wrists, and the tails fell to my knees. But it was full of his scent and it was his and I wanted to lay claim to everything he owned, I wanted to imprint myself into him the way he had done to me. He was in my bones now.
I splashed some water on my face and grinned at my reflection. My skin was flushed pink and I absolutely could not stop smiling. My hair was in wild disarray. I pulled a brush through it and tied it into a loose ponytail, brushed my teeth, and followed the gurgling sound of coffee brewing in the kitchen and Jim humming a tune I didn’t recognize.
He was staring into my refrigerator, biting his knuckle. “Slim pickings, Beesly,” he said, clucking his tongue as he glanced up at me. “I think we’re gonna have to go out. I’ve got coffee going though.” He shut the fridge door and made a show of looking me up and down, smiling suggestively. “My shirt looks good on you.”
“You are some kind of freakish giant.” I flapped the ends of his sleeves at him as I strolled over to wrap my arms around him, stretching up on my tiptoes to kiss him. He was wearing just his pants, and something about finding him barefoot and shirtless in my kitchen sent a thrill of contentment through my veins. It was so…right. He belonged here. “Good morning.”
He crushed me in a tight bear-hug and kissed my forehead. “Good morning.”
“How long have you been up?” I asked, disentangling myself to take a couple of mugs out of the cabinet.
“A little while.” He ran a hand through his too-short hair. “You always sleep so late?” he teased.
“Only when I’ve been kept up all night,” I returned with a saucy smile, adding a spoonful of cream to both our cups, and another of sugar to his. “Thanks for making coffee.”
He just smiled, cradling his mug in both hands as we walked over to the table. He sat down across from me and stretched luxuriously, arching his back and letting out a little groan as he lengthened his arms over his head and flexed his toes. “You know how I like my coffee,” he observed, looking absurdly pleased.
I sat down across from him. “Of course I do. One cream, one sugar. You haven’t evolved that much, Halpert.”
Oh, wow. What possessed me to say that?
He flinched and his mortified expression told me that he knew exactly what I was talking about, and worse, that the remark was meant to cut me as it had. I’m evolving, Pam.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
He gave me a wry little half-smile. “It was a bad year, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“Pam,” he began.
I shook my head. We agreed to put the past in the past, and that’s what we’re gonna do. “The next one will be better,” I said brightly.
He grinned, his relief palpable. “I totally agree. C’mere.” He held out one arm in invitation and I moved over to sit in his lap, twining my arms around his neck, and he reached up to pull out my ponytail so he could run his hands through my hair as he kissed me. “Mmm. Pam?” he murmured against my lips.
I tried to say “Hmm?” but it came out as a groan. He grinned and kissed me harder and picked me up, pushing his chair over backwards as he stood up and took me back to the bedroom.
Talking’s overrated anyway.
----------
Sunday.
“Beesly, I’m starving. Seriously, we need to go get some food.” He took my hand and pressed it against his rumbling stomach. “Feel that?”
“Mmm, nice.” I grinned at his reflection, sliding my fingers a little further south. He was still damp from the shower, looking absolutely delicious with just a towel wrapped around his narrow hips. He had such a nice body. I’d never seen more than his forearms and a bit of chest before, and though over the years I’d really grown to appreciate his profile, the curve of his neck, it was a bit surreal to be allowed to just gaze at his naked body in open admiration. Long and lean but not really skinny at all…just these long lovely ropes of muscles expanding downward into nice strong legs and upward into a broad chest and wide shoulders. So different from Roy, even though they were nearly the same height. Roy’s muscles were thick, heavy. If Roy was a bull, Jim was a…panther.
“I’m serious!” he laughed, feigning indignation as he affected slapping my hand away, then grabbed my hand and linked his fingers through mine instead. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Very. But I don’t have anything here except Lean Cuisines and maybe cereal. We’ll have to go out. Or order out again.” I stepped away and reached for my barrette.
He put his hand on top of mine to stop me. “Leave it down?” he suggested, smiling in the mirror at my reflection.
No, I can’t, it’ll just get frizzy and… “Yeah, okay,” I heard myself say instead. Anything you want. “But you gotta do something for me.”
“Anything.” His smile was so warm. He looked so happy. I hadn’t seen him this happy…ever.
I reached up and ruffled his hair with my fingers as best I could in its shortened state. “Grow your hair back.”
He laughed. “Is that all?”
I smiled slyly. “For now.”
--------------
Reality finally hit home Sunday night.
We’d been apart a grand total of forty-seven minutes from the time we went to dinner on Friday night, just long enough for him to race home to pick up a change of clothes and his toothbrush early Saturday afternoon, and somehow the reality of our situation—of Karen and work and the excruciating awkwardness to come—had seemed like something distant and irrelevant. It was only on Sunday evening, when Jim reluctantly went home, that I really let myself think about the implications of everything that had happened.
My apartment was kind of a wreck. Cartons of Chinese takeout and soda cans and wine glasses littered surfaces all over the kitchen and living room. Damp towels were slung over the shower rod and draped across the tub and scattered across the floor. Piles of discarded clothes, mostly mine but also one of his undershirts, marked a trail to the bed. I stripped the sheets and started a load of laundry, wondering what tomorrow was going to bring, if he’d be coming over here after work or I’d see his apartment…
I’ve never even seen his apartment.
My God, I AM a hussy.
I found the idea that Angela had been right in judging me so harshly to be fairly disturbing. Not that I really care what Angela thinks, so much. But I never thought of myself as that girl. The girl who steals another girl’s boyfriend.
It was more complicated than that, of course, and Karen couldn’t know how much pain and heartache we’d gone through to get to this point, but did that really matter? Was it realistic or fair to expect her to understand? She had every right to hate me, hate Jim. I couldn’t pretend to be sorry for how everything had turned out, but for the first time, I felt a stab of guilt and unease about how we’d plunged in so deep, so quickly.
Are we moving too fast? Too much, too soon? It didn’t seem like it, all things considered, but oh, my God, I hadn’t let myself think about how humiliating it might be for Karen, to know he came back here and we just…
She’ll know. He told her, straight up, why he was coming back; she’ll take one look and know what we did all weekend. And that’s just…oh, God, I should have at least made him shave…(though the stubble had been an unbelievable turn-on)…she’ll know, she’ll know…
It’s not fair, my pride chirped up righteously. I’ve slept with exactly two men in my whole life. And I was engaged to one of them! I’m not exactly a tramp. Am I?
I’m in love with Jim, it’s not some kind of fling, and it certainly wasn’t impulsive, this has been waiting to happen for…years… how much longer were we supposed to wait?
And so went my thoughts, turning round and round in circles of self-doubting questions followed by defensive justifications, until the phone rang at close to eleven while I was remaking the bed. “Hey,” Jim said warmly. “Did I wake you?”
“Nope. Just making the bed.” I smoothed a hand over the comforter and flopped back against the pillows. “You get your laundry done?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat and said abruptly, “I, um…Karen came over.”
Oh, no. Of course.
“She had some CDs of mine and stuff, and there were some, ah, things of hers over here, and…” He sighed. “She was only here for a few minutes. I just…I dunno, I thought you should know.”
I was surprised by the surge of jealousy that flamed through me. Or not jealousy so much as… possessiveness?
“Pam?”
“How was it?” I asked. “I mean…how is she?”
“She was pretty civil, actually.” He cleared his throat again. He does that when he’s nervous. Why is he nervous? “Like I said she was only here for a few minutes. We didn’t really… talk, or anything.”
I had no idea what to say.
“I just suddenly had this, like, vision of her saying something…to you… about being over here, and I didn’t want you to…I don’t know…get the wrong idea,” he blurted.
Did he think I wouldn’t believe him…that I didn’t trust him?
Did I believe him? Did I trust him?
Yes. And… yes.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He let out a sigh that sounded relieved. “Yeah. It was kind of…well, a lot uncomfortable, actually. But I think she’s gonna at least try to be okay about it. So, um, I was thinking, this could be…kind of weird… for a while, and maybe it would be best if we don’t…if we just, you know, lay low for a bit?”
“I totally agree,” I said quickly. “I was kind of thinking the same thing myself.”
“Oh. Well …good.” He cleared his throat. Again. This whole conversation was obviously freaking him out. “Pam?”
“Yeah?”
“I would really, really like to see you right now,” he said softly. “Just…so you know.”
I smiled. “Good night, Jim.”
“ ’Night.”
---------------
I couldn’t sleep. I finally gave up trying and got up at five-thirty, drank half a pot of coffee, and headed in to work at a little after seven. I liked being the first one in, when it was quiet and peaceful. Funny how I liked the office best when there was nobody else in it.
Jim showed up ten minutes later. He looked as tired and edgy as I felt, but his face brightened and he smiled when he saw me. “Hey. You’re early,” he remarked, hanging up his coat and casting a glance around.
“Nobody’s here yet,” I told him.
“Oh. Good.” He came around my desk and slipped his arms around me, pulling in a deep breath and resting his chin on my head. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Me neither.” I pressed my face to his chest, breathed him in. Soap, deodorant, Jim.
He gave me a brief squeeze and bent to steal a quick kiss before releasing me and stepping back. “Okay, so, Angela heard me ask you out on Friday. I think. She saw me go in there, anyway. So…she’ll be watching.”
“Great,” I groaned. Like she ever wasn’t watching. God Himself couldn’t ask for a more pitiless judge of human weaknesses. For the first time, I was grateful for my view of Jim’s neck that would keep me from mooning at him like a lovesick teenager.
“It’s okay.” He nodded as if that would help convince himself as well as me, moving to his desk and hanging his bag on the back of his chair. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”
---------------
Karen was right on time, precisely at eight o’clock, impeccable as always in her black pinstriped pantsuit. She didn’t look angry or sad, just a little tired. She gave me a brief but polite nod of greeting without meeting my eyes and walked straight through to her desk, not glancing at Jim at all, focusing immediately on her computer.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
---------------
Now I’ve had a lot of bad days at Dunder-Mifflin. Michael has driven me to the brink of giving my notice literally dozens of times, but even Michael’s worst gaffes and most obliviously hurtful insults are easy enough to shrug off in the end.
No, anything truly upsetting always had something to do with Jim. The awful silence that ended the day when things got out of hand at Dwight’s dojo and I gave him the cold shoulder. The tension-filled week after I found out he complained about me.
The numb, disbelieving shock when I saw his empty desk that Monday morning and realized he was really gone.
I hadn’t thought anything could top the horror of Jim’s first strained day back from Stamford and the discovery that he was “kind of seeing someone.” But then came the Roy Incident. Surely that was the worst thing that could ever happen…all our secrets exposed for everyone to see in all its ghastly humiliating detail.
But, again, I was wrong. Things can always get worse.
If there’s one thing working for Michael Scott should have taught me by now, it’s that a bad situation can always be made worse.
------------
In the end, it was because of the desk.
“Attention everyone!” Michael announced. “As you all know, I have decided to stay here as the… godfather…of our Scranton family. What you may not know is that our very own Ryan Howard has been offered the position in New York! Today will be his last day here with us and then he’s off to butt heads with the bigwigs at corporate.”
Jim turned very slightly in his chair to shoot me a speaking glance. “Butt heads,” or Ryan getting the job? It was a toss-up.
“You’re kidding,” Stanley said flatly.
“I am…not.” Michael cleared his throat. “So everyone, let’s congratulate Ryan and wish him the best of luck.”
“Congratulations Ryan,” Phyllis offered.
“Are we having a party?” Kevin wanted to know.
“No,” Ryan said shortly. “I…that’s not necessary. Actually Michael I’m going to just clear out early, I have a lot to do and they want me in the office tomorrow. I’m sure you understand.” It wasn’t a question. He already had a box at his desk and was busy emptying out the bottom drawer.
Wow. Ryan the temp. Who’d have thought.
It took Ryan less than twenty minutes to clear out his desk. Nearly three years here and he wasn’t even able to fill a single box. I saw some pencils and pens, a couple of file folders (of what?…), and a few spiral notebooks and binders from his business school classes. No pictures, no mementos, not even a coffee mug. “All yours, Halpert,” he smirked as he logged off the computer with a flourish.
“Congratulations, Ryan,” Jim said amiably, leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “And good luck.”
Ryan looked a little surprised. Maybe he didn’t know Jim had withdrawn voluntarily? “Uh… thanks.”
“Think I will take that desk back though,” Jim mused.
Ryan glanced over his shoulder at Michael’s closed office door. “Yeah, it’s definitely better to have your back to him,” he agreed in a low voice.
-----------
By nine o’clock, Ryan was gone and Jim had relocated to his old desk. That, as it turned out, was a bad idea. Although we avoided each others’ gaze as diligently as when we weren’t speaking, the symbolism was clear enough.
I was fighting the fax machine, which had jammed yet again, so I had my back to them when I heard Karen’s clipped voice at Jim’s desk. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” It wasn’t really a question.
I kept my eyes fixed on the copier. Angela looked up and cast one of her typically damning glances in my direction.
“Uh…yeah, sure.” I heard Jim stand up and I wanted desperately to offer a reassuring glance… something… but I didn’t dare look at him. At either of them.
Karen marched behind Jim into the break room, and two seconds later, nobody could make any pretense of doing anything other than listening. She was loud. And furious. “You are immature, selfish, and lazy,” she spat before the door had fully closed behind them.
After that it was hard to hear exactly what she was saying, but words like used and lied and my CAREER were punctuated with emphatic, angry hand gestures. Twice she poked him in the chest but Jim said nothing, did nothing, just stood there with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and an expression of guilt and remorse and empathetic patience on his face that only seemed to make her angrier.
I stared in horror from the alcove of my desk, acutely aware of everyone’s eyes swiveling from the scene in the kitchen to me and back again. Karen hadn’t said my name, hadn’t pointed at me, but there weren’t exactly any secrets in this office and after the day at the beach… I wondered if it would it be too obvious if I feigned illness and went home early.
The harangue continued for nearly ten minutes before she brushed past him and stormed out of the break room, straight toward my desk.
Fuck.
I sat up straight, set my jaw, and looked her in the eye as she approached, summoning all my moxie. Courage and honesty. Courage and honesty. I know what I’ve done and I’d do it again and I’m sorry but there it is.
“Pam, can I speak with you for a second.” She crossed her arms over her chest and made a jerking motion with her head toward the front door. “Outside.”
“Ooh, cat fight,” Kevin said gleefully.
“Shut up,” Oscar hissed.
Karen spun on her heel and marched ahead of me toward the door. Jim glanced at me with worried eyes but I shook my head imperceptibly. Whatever she wanted to say, I owed it to her to listen, just as he had.
She was pacing in the hallway. I stood against the wall and waited for her to speak.
“Look,” she said finally, stopping in front of me and crossing her arms again. “I had to say that…to him. He’s—that was fucked up, what he did to me.” Her eyes challenged me to dispute her. “And that’s not why I wanted to talk to you but… sorry if it made you feel weird,” she added sarcastically.
I had no idea what she wanted from me if it wasn’t to call me out as a man-stealing whore, so I ignored the jibe and waited.
“I still work here,” she said forcefully. “I’m talking to Toby about a transfer but in the meantime, since everybody here knows exactly what happened,” she spat accusingly, “I would appreciate it if the two of you could not…” And suddenly her face crumpled a little and she looked away, bringing a hand to cover her eyes.
Oh my God. Tears instantly sprang to my eyes. “Karen,” I whispered, and started to reach out to her, but she had already regained her composure. Her eyes were glossy but filled with their characteristic determination. She licked her lips and looked at me, and I just nodded.
She pressed her lips together and nodded once, briefly, then turned and walked back into the suite.
Jim and I didn’t look at each other for the rest of the day. But she was gone the next day anyway.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Aftermath...wherein our heroes have a fun weekend but then must face the consequences of their actions. Slight spoilers for Fun Run.
Chapter End Notes:
So I really struggled with this and I'm still not sure how I feel about it, but in the interests of moving on, I'm letting it go. Any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!
