Author's Chapter Notes:
There are a few separate fics I’ve been wanting to write all wrapped up in this story, starting with the hotness of angry!Jim, Pam initiating some Jam love in the office, Jim getting his hair cut, and a little surprise. It’s just a one shot deal, unbeta’d. Hope you 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.
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.
Jim had always been the anti-Roy. Pretty much the only things they had in common were their height, their love of sports, and perhaps their feelings for Pam. Although even those, Pam thought, were quite different. To Roy she had always been the artsy fartsy quiet girl in the turtleneck who had somehow won the boyfriend lottery by attracting the attention of a much more popular football player. She didn’t doubt that Roy had loved her but part of his love stemmed from feeling a little bit superior to her, from being the partner who was just slightly out of the other one’s league. It was funny, now, for Pam to think of Roy – the warehouse worker, the guy whose high school years were the best of his life – as being “better” than her in some way, instead of them just being “different.” Why one person in a couple had to be seen as having any sort of upper hand seemed ridiculous now. But for years they had both thought of Pam as being the lucky one, even if they never admitted it out loud. And Pam knew that, in theory, Roy would have liked to date girls like Katy – cheerleaders and prom queens. But when it came right down to it his fragile ego preferred girls like Pam: girls who seemed to need him, who let him take charge, who wouldn’t dump him for another guy.
Well. Guess she proved him wrong with that last assumption.
But Jim seemed to love her for who she was, not who he was to her. Jim liked the things about her that Roy rolled his eyes at, or tolerated, or teased her mercilessly about. Jim encouraged her, was patient with her. He was gentle and kind and sweet. He hardly ever raised his voice or picked a fight. He was laid back in everything he did.
Like the way Jim handled that whole weird thing with Toby. Roy would have totally kicked Toby’s ass if he had been there the night they got locked in the parking lot. Hell, he had almost kicked Jim’s ass twice – the day they had played that prank on Dwight about the alliance and he had accused Jim of trying to “cop a feel”, and after Pam had told him about kissing Jim. But when Toby had put his hand on Pam’s knee and then sort of rubbed it in a way that made her breath catch (and not in a good way), Jim looked shocked but he didn’t get all testosteroney and angry. He didn’t make things worse by pulling Toby up by his coat lapels and inviting him to take it outside. Jim was secure, cool, in control. He even joked about it on the way home, saying that maybe Toby forgot they were dating just like Michael had.
“I guess we’re not obvious enough,” he said as he drove. “Maybe we need to take PDA lessons from Kelly.”
Pam laughed. “Yeah. How is it that she never inspired a memo?”
“Well, clearly Toby only cares about public affection when it involves you. And someone besides him.”
But his voice was light, and he put his hand on her leg and then he let the whole thing go. He didn’t confront Toby, make a big deal about it, embarrass him further. And he didn’t give her a hard time when Toby so desperately wanted a picture with her. He just took it all in stride. She loved that he was secure and calm and level headed and just . . . Jim.
So it surprised Pam when she felt a surge of what could only be described as lust when Jim displayed Roy-like behavior by making a strongly worded phone call to Ryan, and then later tossing his cell phone onto his desk and glaring darkly at his computer screen. When Roy had shown flashes of anger and impatience like that, Pam had always felt tense and edgy, girding herself for the brewing storm. But with Jim, who was always so even tempered, his aggression was strangely hot.
Besides, Jim had a reason to be angry (which Roy never needed). Ryan was being a total tool and seemed determined to either get Jim fired or get him to quit. Initially Pam had half expected Jim to be relieved, to take it as an excuse to leave Dunder Mifflin. Instead, he had uncovered an unexpected fervor for his job, which up until this point had always been sort of a joke between them. And his new passion and determination turned out to be extremely, surprisingly sexy to Pam. Maybe because she felt like he was doing it for her, for them. For their future. Maybe because it was intriguing to see him passionate about something (besides her . . . although she certainly wouldn’t complain about that kind of passion, either). But when his easy smile faded and his brow furrowed, when his eyes got intense and focused, something inside her sort of pulled taut and vibrated, like a guitar string.
She felt that vibration all day – the combination of excitement about Pratt, the happiness at how Jim had reacted when she told him, the tingle of his intensity about work. Even the disappointment that Jim hadn’t proposed at Toby’s party faded quickly and she immediately regretted her mopey display for the camera. She realized that Jim wouldn’t want their engagement to be overshadowed by Andy’s, of all people. He’d want it to be special, personal, something of their own. So she sucked up her disappointment and promised herself that she would just not second guess everything anymore. He would ask and she would say yes and that’s all that mattered. He wasn’t Roy.
He was quiet, though, on the way home, his right hand on the steering wheel, his left hand propping up his head as he leaned toward the window.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” He smiled over at her. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Oh, um,” he shrugged, “New York, I guess.”
“You’re gonna’ miss me so bad, aren’t you?” She was teasing, sarcastic, trying to lighten his quiet mood. Trying to lighten the sudden sharp feeling of gloom in her stomach at the thought of leaving him in a couple weeks.
“Nah. What’s to miss?” He lowered his left hand to the wheel and placed his right hand on her leg, high on her thigh. She pressed her hand on top of his.
“Thanks for being so . . . great about that. I mean, for encouraging me…”
He glanced over at her and smiled. “I’m really proud of you.”
Pam could feel herself blush in the dark. She couldn’t remember Roy ever saying those words to her, or ever feeling this happy and proud and hopeful. She smiled back at him and they drove in silence for a moment.
“I think I’m going to get my hair cut,” Jim said suddenly.
“What?” It was such a sudden change of topics that she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly.
“My hair. I want to get it cut. Not like last year, but just . . . something more . . . professional.”
“I liked your hair last year.”
He gave her a skeptical come on look.
“I did! Except on our first date I went to the bathroom and thought you had left because I didn’t recognize the back of your head.”
Jim laughed. “Really? You never told me that.”
“Yeah. I came out and looked around and thought oh my God he did NOT just ditch me like Roy! But then I remembered.” Jim turned his hand over on her leg, palm up, and she laced her fingers through his.
“After all the build up, you think I made that date just to ditch you?”
Pam wagged her head. “Well, you know. To punk me. The ultimate prank. Or as, like, payback.”
“Payback?”
Pam rubbed his thumb with hers. “You know. For just . . . the whole stupid year. Like you’d be ‘Psyche! You really thought this was a date?’ And then you and Karen would high five out in the parking lot.”
“Oh my God. How did you know our plan? I was totally going to ditch you but you peed way too fast.”
“Yeah. I figured.”
“Ah well. This worked out okay instead.”
“I guess.” Pam sighed in a bored sort of way and Jim just smiled and looked back at the road.
“Seriously? You thought I left you there?”
“Just for a second when I didn’t recognize you.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t get my hair cut, then.”
“No! No. Get it cut if you want. I’ll just have to spend some time studying you from behind.” She glanced suggestively over at him. “You know . . . just to properly familiarize myself.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Okay. If you must.”
“Besides, you’ve got good hair. You could wear it any way. And change is nice sometimes.”
He wagged his head, not agreeing or disagreeing.
“I know! Let’s go together! I could do something new for New York. Something . . . designer-y.”
“Something even Fancier New Beesly?”
She shrugged, smiling, feeling adventurous and bold. “Maybe.”
They pulled into the parking space for Jim’s apartment and he put the car in park. He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Then he leaned in to kiss her but paused just before his mouth met hers.
“You could shave it. Do a whole Sinead O’Connor thing. Really show them you’re not afraid to take risks.”
Pam laughed quietly. “I’ll think about it,” she whispered and then he kissed her and she forgot all about haircuts and proposals and summers in New York.
*****
Jim’s haircut turned out to be distractingly hot. Pam had to remind herself not to make too big a deal of it because over-enthusiasm might make Jim feel bad, like complimenting someone on losing weight and making them wonder if they were that fat to begin with. If she fawned over Jim’s new hair he might question if she had really liked it the old way, which she had. But now? God, he was like . . . delicious sexy business guy. She hadn’t been able to decide on any new hairstyle for herself so he had gone to get his cut during his lunch hour and when he walked through the door with a sheepish, shy sort of smile, Pam did a double take.
“Oh my God,” she said, smiling more than she meant to. “It looks so good.”
“Really?” he asked, blushing. He ran his hand over his head lightly, unsure.
She nodded and walked around her desk for a closer look. It was definitely a lot shorter, but still long enough on top to be tousled and a little messy. It looked thick and soft and she just wanted to feel it. She lifted a hand and slipped her fingers into his hair, grateful that she could, that a girlfriend had jurisdiction to feel her boyfriend’s hair at will.
“Wow,” she breathed, sort of amazed by its thickness between her fingers.
“Tuna! Rockin’ the new ‘do. Lookin’ sharp!”
Jim smiled but kind of rolled his eyes. “Thanks Andy.”
Pam saw Phyllis look up and smile, then Meredith gave Jim a creepy sort of once over just like she had last year. Stanley glanced up briefly but returned to his computer without comment.
“Pam! What are you doing?” Michael entered the office behind Jim. “You shouldn’t be feeling another man’s hair! I mean, you and Jim are together, right? That’s what he keeps saying, anyway.”
Pam realized she’d been standing with her fingers in Jim’s hair for longer than was probably acceptable, even for a girlfriend. She pulled her hand down and Jim turned to look at Michael.
“Jimbo! Wow! Didn’t recognize you from behind.” Michael grinned. “That’s what she...” He trailed off, realizing his trademark line didn’t work so well with that set up.
Jim shook his head and lowered his voice so that only Pam could hear. “I should have waited until the weekend. No one would have noticed on a Monday.”
“I would have noticed,” she whispered back, trying to keep her hormone surge under control.
Jim grinned and walked to his desk and Pam reluctantly did the same. She would have preferred to explore his new haircut, to feel it and smell it just . . . familiarize herself with it. Instead she spent the next hour glancing up at him, enjoying the way the new style changed his familiar face. It seemed to harden the line of his jaw, and somehow both aged him and made him seem more boyish at the same time. His neck, sturdy and smooth and slightly pale, seemed to be teasing her: Come and get me. She had to fight the urge to walk up behind him and press her mouth to the newly exposed skin just above his collar.
And then she overheard a conversation he was having with a customer, and he was smooth and confident, his voice low and gravelly as he laughed and charmed. As he talked he leaned back in his chair, his shirt pressing against his torso in a most distracting way. He threaded his hand through his hair, probably still surprised by how different it felt. She watched his hand – those hands that were strong and gentle at the same time – scratch the back of his head and she knew she had to do something about the tightness in her stomach, the looseness in other places.
Jim hung up the phone and turned to his computer. He glanced up at her and caught her watching him. Once again she was grateful that she was his girlfriend now and she could stare at him and not have to look away embarrassed because he wasn’t hers to stare at. He smiled at her, raising one eyebrow in a question. She just smiled back. He gave her an amused sort of look and returned his gaze to his keyboard.
They had always been so careful at work, especially with the cameras always lurking, waiting, hoping to catch something private. Something secret, something illicit. But today she felt dangerous, a bit out of control. Jim had always been the one to surprise her, to sweep her up and do something daring. From their first kiss that night by his desk, to the time he walked in and cut off her discussion about dinner, to just the other day when he had made that big sale – he was always the one throwing caution to the wind, the one being brave. She figured it was her turn.
At 5:00 the office started to empty out. It was Friday and by 5:15, they were the last ones still there. She heard the tone of Jim’s computer shutting down, the sound he had Altoid-trained Dwight to last year, and she stood up.
“Ready?” he asked, as he had so many times before.
You have no idea, she thought. But she simply answered, “Yep.”
They walked to the elevator, his hand finding its way to the back of her neck. His touch felt hot, and she felt the warmth of it work its way down her spine and pool somewhere in her pelvis. Once the elevator doors closed and she was in that small space with him, his clean, masculine scent enveloping her, she couldn’t take it any longer. She turned and pushed him against the wall with one hand on his chest.
“What’s wron—“ he started, but she cut off his words with her mouth, pulling him down by the tie with one hand and sliding the other up into his fancy new haircut. She kissed him hard and hot and heavy, pressing her body against his. He wrapped one arm around her waist and reached out with the other one to press the ‘stop’ button, causing the elevator to halt between floors.
She pulled away and gave him a suspicious, but not entirely hesitant, look.
“Just giving us a few minutes,” he said, and kissed her again, his mouth trailing from hers, to her neck, to her collarbone. She couldn’t stop touching his hair, the softness of it and the clean line between hair and skin along the back of his neck.
“I like this new haircut,” she whispered, her hands digging in from the base of his skull and making trails upwards.
“I can tell.”
“It’s so…” but as she tried to think of the right word, his hands found their way up under her sweater, halting her train of thought.
“Wait til you see all the girly styling products I had to buy to recreate this look. That’ll turn you on even more,” he joked.
“Impossible,” she breathed out, tugging his shirt out of his pants.
“Wow, Beesly. I should have gotten my hair cut a long time ago.”
Her hands found the smooth heat of his skin and she sighed. “How long do you think we have?”
Jim removed his right hand from under her sweater and glanced at his watch. “5:20 on a Friday? I’d say we’ve got until Monday morning when Dwight comes in.”
“Good.” Pam slid her hands quickly over Jim’s chest and stomach before removing them from beneath his shirt and reaching for his tie to loosen the knot.
“Wait – are you serious?” Jim’s amused look was tinged with surprise.
Pam just nodded and started to unbutton his shirt.
“I don’t think—“
“Shh,” Pam hushed him. “Just . . . shush.”
She reached for his belt and Jim must have realized she was serious because his hands hesitated for only a second before finding the zipper on her skirt. Pam didn’t know what had gotten into her. She’d never done anything this crazy before. But at some point during the past two years, since the night of their first kiss, she had become a bolder, braver, more honest version of herself. She was less and less willing to wait for what she wanted and more and more likely to take the bull by the horns. Or bull by the horn, in this case.
Her skirt fell down around her ankles seconds before Jim’s pants followed the same path. Jim pulled her sweater over her head.
“Have you thought through the logistics of this?” he teased.
She shook her head. “Not at all.” She tugged his boxer briefs down. “But we have to hurry.”
“Not a problem.”
Jim pushed her panties down her hips and pressed his hand between her legs. Pam heard herself groan in a voice she didn’t even recognize: “Oh my God.”
Jim pressed her up against the wall and then lifted her up and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his hips and then he was inside of her.
“God, I hope there are no hidden cameras in here,” Jim whispered against her neck as his breath became more ragged.
Pam didn’t know how he could even speak. She seemed incapable of forming words – just sounds and moans and gasps. But then she did say his name, followed by a long string of vowels that came directly from some pleasure center in her brain.
God, he was so . . . just big and lean and he held her up and thrust himself into her like she weighed nothing at all. And she leaned her head back against the wall and watched his face, eyes closed in concentration. Intense. She kissed his jaw, breathed into his ear.
“God you’re sexy.”
And for once he didn’t have a sarcastic comeback, something to downplay her compliment. He just opened his eyes and stared into hers and she felt amazed once again that he was hers. She kissed him hard, then soft, her tongue gently brushing his lip.
“I love you,” she whispered against his open mouth.
He paused, his breath the only thing that gave away his outward calm. “I love you, too,” he whispered back. And then the stillness that had surrounded them for a moment disappeared and he was pushing into her harder and faster and the vibration that had been coursing through her for the past several days intensified and she wrapped herself around Jim even tighter and lost herself in the heat of his body.
*****
When he carefully lowered her back down to the floor, the reality of what she had just done started to seep through her pleasure-induced delirium. Her legs felt weak, her back a little tender from where it had pressed up against the wall of the elevator.
“Wonder what kind of memo we’d get about that,” Jim mused as he buttoned his shirt.
“Oh my God,” Pam breathed as she ran a hand over her messy hair. “What the hell got into me?”
Jim kissed her forehead and then reached down for her sweater and handed it to her.
“Must be the guava scent of my new styling gel.” He reached for his underwear and slid them on again quickly. She suddenly felt very aware of how much time had passed. Even if they lucked out and no one summoned the elevator in the next 60 seconds and caught them half naked and obviously post-coital, Hank would still be down at his security desk as they unloaded themselves, sweaty and disheveled, from the elevator.
“Nope, that’s not it.” She slipped on her sweater and reached for her own underwear.
“Well. Whatever it is, I’m not complaining.”
They quickly finished getting dressed and Pam tried to smooth her hair a bit, and tried to ignore the pleasant, slippery ache between her legs. Before Jim hit the button again to start the elevator he leaned against the wall and pulled Pam close, his hands cupping her face. He looked at her seriously for a moment.
“If I wasn’t completely mortified at the thought of telling our children that we got engaged immediately after having sex in an elevator at work, I’d ask you to marry me right now.”
Pam smiled, feeling calm and confident and no longer in any sort of hurry. “And I’d say yes.”
Jim kissed her softly, his mouth melting with hers. Then he pulled away. “But . . . we can’t have this be the story of the ass kicking.”
Pam shrugged. “So it was just a different kind of ass kicking.”
“I’ll say.” Jim pushed off the wall and reached down for his bag, which had long been forgotten on the floor.
When the elevator doors opened again and they casually walked past Hank, he barely looked up.
“Have a good weekend, Hank,” Jim tried.
Hank grunted.
“He still hates me,” Jim whispered as he opened the door for Pam.
Pam nodded. “Yeah. I think he does.”
Jim laughed and wrapped his arm around Pam’s shoulders. “Alright Beesly. That ass kicking worked up an appetite. Let’s go eat.”
“Mkay. But I need to … um … change real quick.”
“Right.” Jim dropped his arm and unlocked the car. “If we go out, though, think you’ll recognize me from behind this time?”
Pam laughed as Jim opened the car door for her. “Oh yeah. I’ll definitely recognize your behind.”
Jim rolled his eyes and walked around to the driver’s side.
*****
They never made it out to dinner that night. Pam’s quick change turned into a long shower and an hour of . . . um . . . “appetizers” and they finally ended up just ordering pizza and watching When Harry Met Sally on TBS. Which was fine with Pam, because it was one of her favorite movies of all time. Halfway through the movie Jim got up and brought her a bowl of ice cream (vanilla with chocolate syrup), and she decided the day couldn’t possibly get any better. But at the end of the movie, when Harry tells Sally “when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible,” Jim quietly slipped something on Pam’s finger. She had been so distracted by the movie, watching the tears pool in Meg Ryan’s eyes, feeling them start to pool in her own, she didn’t realize what was happening until she looked down and saw the ring.
“Pam,” Jim started.
“Oh my God.” She felt her heartbeat start to skyrocket, the heat build in her cheeks, her breath quicken. It was happening. Just when she decided not to worry, not to overthink, not to anticipate, he was asking. And it wasn’t a joke or a prank this time. The gorgeous ring was already on her hand and he was looking at her, all serious and sweet.
“This is not at all how I pictured doing this. I mean, I pictured the fireworks and the Ferris wheel and just . . . something ass kicking. But I’m ready to start the rest of our lives. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
Pam nodded, and the tears that had started to build while watching Sally now ran down her cheeks.
“Pam. Marry me. Please?”
Pam nodded again, trying to find her voice. “Yes.” She threw her arms around him and kissed him, her tears drying on his face. “Yes, yes, yes,” she whispered against his mouth.
So, there were two ass kickings in one day. Maybe Jim was more like Roy than she thought.
Chapter End Notes:
As always, thanks for reading! Feel free to comment if you feel so moved…
Oh, and here is the haircut. Nice, no?
http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb167/wendolf69/goodhair.jpg
Oh, and here is the haircut. Nice, no?
http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb167/wendolf69/goodhair.jpg
wendolf is the author of 13 other stories.
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