He longs for her so badly, he's getting an ulcer, he thinks. It's like, he knew he wouldn't see her that much, her summer class schedule was brutal and the drive was like six steps from hell with the city traffic. But he kept chanting in his mind as long as they saw each other once a week, it would be okay. But that sometimes turned into ten days or more, days of him sitting in his apartment alone, barely watching ESPN, annoyed at life in general and blaming Derek Jeter for all his relationship problems. It was ridiculous. Derek Jeter didn't even know Pam.

Jim tried to busy himself. Read a new book, play ball with Mark, go to a movie or something. Nothing worked. He practically lived for her phone calls now, to the point where his heart would literally leap out of his chest when her ring tone came on. So pathetic. But he missed her. How could he not? She was Pam, his best friend, his pranking co captain, his girlfriend, his lover. She was all those things wrapped up in an awesome and beautiful little package, and now that package was up in New York stressing over an Animation Course midterm project and not calling him like she said she would.

He felt like an ass being annoyed about it, because he knew she was doing something she had every right to do, something she desperately needed to do. And Jim was so very proud of her for doing it, really...it's just that...well...she was doing it so far away from him.

Maybe that's an overexaggeration, New York isn't that far but it's far enough. It's far enough where he can't drive to there after work every day and just hold her. It's far enough where he can't reach out in the middle of the night and feel her skin or hair, or lips on his. It's pretty fucking far, now that he thinks about it.

But she's living her dream. And he'll just have to wait a few weeks to truly live his. The ring is sitting in his underwear drawer. He doesn't know why, it's not like she's here to see it, but it's something about keeping it hidden that gives him a little bit of mystery. When she miraculously can make a trip down to Scranton, she stays with him, and he can't have her finding it, can he? Maybe he should though. It's about time she puts on what's rightfully hers, but he's consumed with the whole "big bang" kind of proposal idea, and just sitting it out on the kitchen table isn't the way to do it.

He thinks about her, alot. It's getting worse as everyday passes. He hates coming home to the apartment, and finding something random of hers, like her hair clip...or a sock that couldn't possibly fit his foot because then he starts missing her even more and it just gets kind of girly after awhile, the moodiness.

She was scared about going to Pratt, even when they first drove to New York to move some boxes into her dorm room. It was the week before she would officially move, before he really felt how much it would absolutely suck to not have her in his space. They were both just giddy she had this awesome opportunity, and on the way to Pratt, they drove through the city, smiling and oogling at New York like kids on a class trip. Jim briefly flashed back to his last New York visit, when it was him considering leaving her, but that was under different and more dire circumstances.

But now, they were together, finally, and it was just like he imagined, perfect. Perfect for a whole year and two months.  So of course he didn't think her going to New York would affect him so, they were strong and happy and in love. They pulled up in front of Pratt, a look of amusement like a pair of tourists. It was surreal to both of them actually.

Making their way to the dorm, carrying two huge tubs of stuff ("My god Beesly, what did you pack in here? A dead body?"), they encountered all the young, fresh faces. He looked back at her, scanning her unsure face. He knew she felt out of place, but she shouldn't, she was just as good if not fucking better than most of them. She saw him looking back at her and her face lit up, and he knew he got his point across. They arrived at her room door. She was going to be a Residential Advisor to cut down on expenses for lodging, so she had a single room. Or should they say...a single closet?

"Wow..." they both breathed out as they surveyed the extremely tight room.

"Um...this is...cozy?" Jim tried to play off, but there was no use. It was a closet.

"I...it's do-able," Pam countered, and then her eyes widened at her statement. He went to say the classic TWSS response, but Pam shook her head. "Don't you dare."

"You set yourself up. I just want to point that out," Jim shrugged playfully. He walked over to the tiny single cot-like bed and sat down. "I wonder if Kebbler elves built these beds. What are they? Like 3 feet long?"

Pam sat down beside him, bouncing a bit on the firm mattress. "Maybe freakishly tall people don't go here."

He sucked in a lip, glancing around the small room. It had a big window so she could see outside, that was a plus. But...it was looking right into another building. Thank god she had blinds. "We're generally not the most artistic, the freakishly tall. We're better at things like...reaching tall shelves and changing lightbulbs."

"I know that's all I use you for, so makes sense," Pam replied, as they both examined the room, their hands touching and overlapping as they did. It was small gestures like that he would miss the most. Oh that and everything else.

"It's not too shabby. A 50 Cent poster here, a Fall Out Boy poster there....maybe one of those Periodical Table of Mixology posters...to ya know, keep up with college alcoholism. I see potential."

Pam laughed and nodded slowly. "I was thinking black lights. Maybe a huge bong just sitting in the corner."

"Then you're set."

They were quiet for a moment, before she finally spoke. "What if...what if I can't do this?"

"Not an option," Jim stated simply, wrapping one arm around her. "You can and you will and you'll be absolutely amazing while doing it."

Pam blushed and leaned into him. "You're just trying to get laid in my dorm room."

He gave a smirk and crossed his fingers. "God willin'."

That was rough. It was rough acknowledging that she was moving on to a new phase that didn't include him, and he so desperately wanted to be included. If he could of, he would have taken a sabatical from Dunder-Mifflin too and just found an apartment and lived with Pam until she was done, but that wasn't realistic. He didn't even wait the required travel time on the day she left to go up to call her, he called her an hour after she pulled out the parking lot. They talked the rest of her way there, and even when she went inside, until she had to go to an RA orientation. Stupid orientation, taking away his Pam time. He spent the rest of his night glaring at the ceiling of his dark bedroom, alone.

But he was patient, and loving, and trying to be selfless, when all he wanted to do was be selfish. To have her all to himself. Jim remembers practically flying up to New York after a few weeks, irritated at the fact Dwight had replaced all the snacks with rotten fruit in the vending machines, and the fact he hadn't seen or talked to Pam as much as he wanted. Her schedule was demanding and he barely spoke to her during the day. Not to mention, Steve the Camera guy, and Jerry the Sound guy were trailing his ass like they were on a mission to New York too. He pulled into the Pratt parking lot, with the crew jumping out in the van behind him, racing to catch up.

They got on the elevator together, the students staring at Jim as a boom hovered over him and Steve stepped around him like he was Ryan Seacrest or something. Two girls on the elevator stared openly, and Jim just cleared his throat and cocked his head over to the crew and joked, "Publisher's Clearinghouse. Can't get rid of 'em."

As soon as he stepped out the elevator and on her floor, his heart leapt out of his chest. Just being mere feet from her was enough to give him heart palipatations. He missed her. He needed to see her, feel her smell her. And as soon as he opened the door, her hair was curled and falling delicately on her shoulders, she was smiling in a way that told him to get his ass over there and kiss her, so he did. He picked her small body up and planted one right on her, and she moaned, and oh god, he needed to hear that.

Steve, of course, ever the cock-blocker, jumped right in, and Jim looked over at Pam, a twinkle of something in her eye and he knew. Steve needed to get the fuck out, there was business to attend to. Serious serious business. Jim pointed at the wall to distract Steve and as soon as they were over the threshold, he deftly shut the door and locked it, then turned to Pam, smiling.

She was breathtaking and she obviously missed him too. He could tell by the way she launched herself at him and they fell back against that ridiculously small bed and began going at each other like two wild animals or something. Damn...that was hot.

And he wanted to show her the condom Michael gave him, not to use it (it was from Michael, so never...) but just to make her laugh, but Pam wasn't trying to talk, as apparent from her tongue being in his mouth. She was straddling him, and he was pretty sure she could feel the huge bulge in his pants.  She grinded against him, and he moaned, bucking his hips up into hers as his hands snaked up her shirt and against the warm skin of her bare back. She shuddered at his touch and it quaked something down in the pits of him. Her hair framed around them as they kissed and he sucked on her lip gently before moving down to her clavicle, tracing it with his tongue. The mere touch of her skin and smell of her hair, the taste of her lips was driving him mad, and he wanted to just, rip that nice little jacket off of her and just make love to her right now and he was going to, until...

BANG BANG BANG!

Her lips tore from his, both of their lips were swollen and red and she looked at the door and back down at him, shaking her head. He smirked. "Steve. Ignore him."

And she did as she leaned back in to kiss him.

BANG BANG BANG!

For the love of all that's holy, what the...

"That's not Steve-" Pam began to say when suddenly they heard shouting.

"Pam! Are you there?! I swear to god I'm going to kill her! PAM! If someone doesn't talk me down, I'm going to kill her!"

Jim pulled back abruptly. He pushed her hair back, squinting his eyes. "Is someone trying to kill you?!"

Pam sighed, shaking her head. "Not that I know of. It's one of my residents. We have to...just...I gotta get that."

He nodded and sat up as checked she herself (obviously flustered) and then glanced apologetically at him before opening the door. A girl with green hair came bursting in, wild, and angry.

"She drunk my Soy milk, Pam! How many effin' times have I told that bitch to not eat my food?! How many? And she doesn't even like soy, I swear she's doing this on purpose! So I'm going to eat all of her fucking granola bars and leave all the wrappers in her bed, so she knows how I fucking feel!" the girl cried and Pam looked over alarmingly at Jim, who felt awkward and a bit scared.

The girl was sobbing, but then turned, finally noticing Jim in the room. "Oh...((sniff)) I'm sorry to interrupt. But seriously, Pam. I'm going to kill her."

Pam rubbed the crying girl's back sympathetically. Jim watched, thinking of how that's so much of what she is, a beautiful caring person. "No you aren't. That's a serious crime, and you don't want to go to prison. Here...um...sit down. Jim? Can you give us a minute?"

"Sure, " he croaked, hoping his erection had gone down. He stood up and straighted his shirt before walking into the hall. Pam stood to close the door and smiled sadly as he turned to look at her. "I'll be in the lounge."

"Thank you," she said, before shutting the door.

He missed her. He misses her. And now he hates soy milk. Badly. Truly. Deeply.