It had been one month and seven days, and the true reality of living with Jim Halpert was already starting to lose its luster.
Pam stepped inside the apartment and sat her keys on a table beside the front door. She glanced down and saw Jim smiling back at her, an arm draped around her shoulder in a picture that had been taken at a chilly Chicago Bears game in November of last year.
She stepped over a pair of black Keds that had been haphazardly placed by the door and glanced around the room. Empty glasses and half-eaten bowls of cereal covered the coffee table. A damp green towel was tossed over the back of the couch. DVD boxes and video game discs were strewn across the floor, and Jim’s white athletic socks peeked out from almost every nook and cranny of the room.
She heard a key clicking inside the lock and was immediately greeted by the sound of Jim’s cheerful voice.
“Hey,” Jim smiled, pulling his messenger bag over his head and leaning down to give her a kiss. "How was work?"
”Our apartment looks and smells like a bachelor pad,” Pam said, ignoring his question and dropping her tote bag in the middle of the floor. “How did I not realize you were such a slob?”
Jim frowned as he slipped off his suit jacket and tossed it on the couch. “I’m the slob? There’s no way I’m responsible for all of this mess.”
Pam started pointing at all of the items clustering about the small living room. “Um, your socks. Your towel. Your bowls of cereal.”
Jim tugged his brown tie loose from around the collar of his faded, pale taupe shirt and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Yeah? What else do you see with those eagle eyes of yours?”
She frowned at him and he simply nodded his head in the direction of the dining room.
Whoops. She had completely blocked the other half of the mess from her periphery. Brushes, open paint bottles and other miscellaneous art supplies were scattered across the table in their dining room/workspace. A pair of Uggs sat in the middle of the floor. Actually, just one Ugg. She had no idea where the other one was hiding. Her towel was draped over a chair at the dining table and- was that her bra, carelessly dangling off the kitchen counter? What the hell was she doing that required her to take her bra off in the kitchen?
She let out a frustrated sigh and her shoulders slouched as she slowly came to realize that they were both equally responsible for what looked like a tornado sweeping through their apartment.
“So what do you think, Beesly? Cleaning party tonight?”
”Only if you feed me first. I’m starving,” Pam said. She stepped into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She frowned when she noticed it was empty, save for condiments, a jar of pickles and pack of sliced Kraft cheese.
“We don’t have any food,” Pam announced, closing the refrigerator door.
”I know. We’ve needed to go grocery shopping for awhile now,” Jim called from the bedroom while he changed out of his work clothes. She caught a glimpse of his bare chest as he slipped out of his collared work shirt.
“Ugh,” Pam slouched again. She couldn’t remember the last time she had ever went grocery shopping. “Can’t we just go out to eat instead?”
”We’ve gone out to eat every night since the day you moved in here,” Jim said, emerging from the bedroom in faded jeans and a yellow t-shirt. He walked over to the door and started sliding his feet inside his black Keds. “Come with me to the store, and I’ll cook you something when we get back.”
Pam just glared at him from the kitchen entryway.
“Come on,” Jim laughed, grabbing a black hoodie from the floor. “I know you get incredibly grouchy when you’re hungry, but the sooner we go to the store, the sooner we can eat.”
He walked across the room and tugged her toward the door while she groaned in protest, snatching her purse back up from the floor as she followed him into the warm summer air.
It was nearing the end of June, and Pam was slowly getting adjusted to life in the small bedroom community of Kenosha, Wisconsin. It was somewhat gratifying to be in the quiet isolation of suburbia again, but Pam couldn’t help but miss the bright lights and pulsating energy of the city sometimes.
The eerie quiet of the small Wisconsin town was the hardest adjustment. Instead of the familiar noises and tones of steady traffic and police sirens, the only sounds at night came from crickets and bull frogs chirping outside their window and the summer wind in the trees. Sure, Pam had grown up in the land of culs-de-sacs, strip malls, crowded streets, and rows of houses that all looked the same, but she had become somewhat accustomed to having all of her daily needs within walking distance, and the eclectic soundtrack of the city at night lulling her to sleep.
She missed having access to everything in Chicago- taking the el train anywhere they wanted to go, and being able to go places past eight o’clock in the evening on a weekday- hanging out with friends at local restaurants, cafes or dive bars. Now, they had to drive everywhere, and they spent their weekends surrounded by young suburban families- at the beach on Lake Michigan, walking around the flower garden in Wolfenbuttel Park, shopping the various craft tables and fruit and vegetable stands at HarborMarket, or touring the Kenosha Public Museum in HarborPark. It felt so... grown up, and different- every weekend turned into a small, mini-vacation as they meandered around and explored their new surroundings.
“You know, I remember when Frostys were only a dollar, and they were a lot bigger than this,” Pam said as she stuck her plastic spoon in the yellow cup, bringing a spoonful of chocolate ice cream to her mouth.
It was a little after eight o'clock on a Friday evening, and Pam and Jim were taking their time, pacing the cereal aisle under the bright flourescent lights of their local Meijer while the sounds of Dave Matthews Band filtered through the store's sound system overhead. Jim had given in and taken a brief detour through a Wendy’s drive-thru to bring an end to Pam’s constant whining about being minutes away from dying of starvation.
Not exactly how Pam had imagined they would be spending their Friday night.
Pam grabbed something from the shelf and tossed it inside their big red basket on wheels.
“Lucky Charms? Seriously?” Jim asked, removing the box of cereal from Pam’s cart.
Pam grabbed the box from his hands and tossed it back in. “Yes. They’re magically delicious. And keep your pernickety hands out of my shopping cart.”
Jim grabbed the Lucky Charms again. “Cheerios are so much better. You gotta stick with the classics, man.”
“Cheerios don’t have marshmallows in them,” Pam argued.
“Have you seen how much sugar is in this stuff?” Jim asked, scanning the back of the red box.
Pam frowned. ”Since when did you become a health nut? Weren’t you the one who exchanged the regular Oreos for Double Stuffed just two aisles ago?”
“Once you’ve had your Oreos doubled, you can’t go back,” Jim replied.
“There’s a dirty joke in there somewhere,” Pam said. She inched the shopping cart a couple of paces down the aisle. “Ooh, Fruity Pebbles! Never mind, you can put the Lucky Charms back.”
Jim scowled as he turned around to put the cereal box back on the shelf. He returned and saw that Pam had tossed boxes of Fruity Pebbles, Trix and Coco Puffs into the shopping cart.
“So, are we shopping for Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone or- Ow!”
Pam grinned as she passed Jim. “I’m sorry. My grocery cart didn’t see your foot there.”
“We might want to pick up some actual food before you turn us both diabetic,” Jim said as they turned down the frozen food aisle.
“Ooh, ice cream,” Pam smiled, opening one of the freezer doors and perusing the many flavors of Ben and Jerry’s.
“Should I use my invisibility for good or for evil?” Jim wondered out loud, striking a thoughtful pose with a closed fist under his chin.
“What are you mumbling about back there?” Pam called over her shoulder.
Jim glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper in his hands. “I just don’t understand the point of us making a list when we haven’t checked a single item off of it.”
“Well, I haven’t been grocery shopping in a long time. I forgot about all the fun stuff,” Pam smiled. She kicked the freezer door shut with her foot and tossed a pint of Phish Food into the cart.
“You have absolutely no idea what constitutes a well-stocked refrigerator,” Jim said. He opened another door and grabbed a bag of frozen chicken. “And we need to hurry and get out of here before they send the security guard after you for stealing gummy bears.”
“Isn’t that what the candy bins are there for?” Pam asked.
“Nope, it’s not,” Jim said, shaking his head at their cart that was growing heavier and heavier to push by the second. “Look how much stuff you've picked up. We’re going to be like those annoying people with a shopping cart full of crap, holding up one of the only two lines that are open when everyone behind us has only two or three things,” Jim said.
“Probably just college students with the munchies,” Pam nodded thoughtfully. "And if they’re going to be hitting the bong so late at night and need a bag of Doritos and a 2-liter of Mountain Dew so badly, maybe they should have thought of hitting up a 7-11 instead of a supermarket.”
“So you’re telling me you’re hiding a bong at our house? Because I seem to remember a certain someone waking up at three in the morning yesterday and eating a pickle wrapped in a slice of cheese in bed.”
“We didn’t have anything else to eat,” Pam said. “It’s called being resourceful.”
“It’s called being pregnant,” Jim shot back, causing Pam to ram him with her cart again. “Ow- dammit! Stop doing that.”
“Being a grown up sucks,” Pam sighed as Jim’s eyes followed the box of popsicles she was carrying toward the cart. “Don’t you miss the days when the kitchen was always stocked with all of your favorite snacks, like Fruit Roll-ups and Kudos bars, and having summers off to sleep in?”
“I can picture you being the kid in the grocery store who tosses random things in the cart and runs the bill up, double what it normally is,” Jim said, grabbing the box of popsicles and tossing them back in the freezer.
”Hey!” Pam shrieked in protest.
“You already picked up ice cream,” Jim reminded her. “Besides, haven't you ever noticed that disgusting taste from the popsicle stick? I always feel like it’s going to give me wood poisoning.”
“That would be the taste of completion, and a reminder for you to get another popsicle instead of sucking on a wooden stick.”
”That’s what she said,” Jim smiled.
”Why do you keep doing that?”
Jim frowned at himself. ”I don’t know, this guy I work with does it all the time. Bad habit.”
Pam opened the freezer door and grabbed the box of popsicles again. “I want my popsicles. If the taste bothers you so much, just think of it as radioactive wood that will give you super powers or something.”
“You have a very weird imagination.”
“Imagination is the key to creativity. Without it, the world would be dull,” Pam said.
”I think it’s just you hitting the bong so late at night, is what it is,” Jim smiled before falling forward as something ran over the back of his feet again. “Ow! I told you, stop doing that.”
Pam giggled and turned the cart down the next aisle. They picked up a couple of other necessities that were actually on the list, as well as a couple of other things that weren’t, and finally made their way to the registers at the front of the store before exiting Meijer with their $200 worth of purchases.
Pam and Jim returned home, and after carrying the loads of groceries up two flights of stairs and putting everything away, they unenthusiastically got started on their cleaning party.
“You know, I figured once you had a washer and dryer in your apartment that you would wash your clothes more often,” Jim said, dropping another armful of clothes onto the growing pile in the laundry room.
“And I figured once we purchased a Brita filter that you would stop leaving half-empty bottles of water all over the house,” Pam shot back, raising the five bottles in her hand as proof.
“Look at us, we’re bickering like an old married couple already,” Jim smiled and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead as he walked past her to continue his cleaning duties in the bedroom. Pam dropped the bottles into the recycling bin and sighed when she noticed how much of the kitchen she still had to clean. It looked like they lived in a Real World house.
“This kitchen is so disgusting. I think we need to hire help,” Pam called to Jim in the bedroom. He was humming along to the Nada Surf CD that was playing from his set of ipod speakers on the TV stand in the living room.
Grown-up life is like eating speed or flying a plane
It's too bright, it's too bright
“I’ll pay you $100 if you put on your French maid costume,” Jim smirked at her from the doorway.
“What do you think I am, some kind of sex worker?”
”I didn’t say we had to have sex, I just said I would pay you if you wore the uniform.”
“Which if I do, we both know the inevitable is going to happen, and this place will never get clean,” Pam concluded while pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and moving onto the stack of dirty dishes in the sink.
“You’re no fun,” Jim pouted, retreating back inside the bedroom.
Pam continued loading the sets of mismatched cups and plates into the dishwasher, her plastic, Asian-style, Target dishware clashing against his slightly newer set of solid-color Ceramic dishes. She remembered only a month ago, how excited she was at the idea of her and Jim officially merging all of their items and cherished possessions together. Now it was just downright annoying. How had they managed to accumulate so much freakin’ stuff?
“Hey Pam, what’s in this FedEx envelope under the bed?” Jim called out.
”No, no, no, don’t look at those!” Pam scurried to the bedroom and yanked the envelope from his hands.
Jim looked up at her quizzically from the floor. ”What?”
“Those are a bunch of rough sketches that Karen sent me for my wedding dress,” Pam said. She opened the top drawer on her nightstand and shoved the envelope inside.
“Oh,” Jim nodded, rising to his feet and picking up another handful of empty glasses off of his dresser. “Well, I tried to get most of our stuff organized, but we need some kind of storage system so we can have a place for everything.”
“Isn’t that what under the bed was made for?” Pam asked as she followed him into the kitchen.
“No, it’s not what under the bed was made for,” Jim rolled his eyes, dropping the glasses into the sink. “What do you think about taking a trip down to the Ikea in Schaumburg this weekend and picking up a couple of shelves? Maybe another bookcase? I could even have Dwight come over and give us a table-making demonstration.”
”Furniture shopping? Table-making?” Pam frowned. “Gosh, we really are an old married couple.”
“I don’t know about us being an old married couple, but you certainly are turning into an old lady. Is this your bra in the sink?” Jim asked.
“Give me that!” Pam grabbed the pink fabric from his hands. Jim laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist, gently pushing her back against the counter. Her senses were overwhelmed by the strong, woody scents of his cologne as he brought his lips down to hers, his hands pulling her flush against him. She reveled in the feeling of the nearness of him, her gloved hands falling on the back of his neck as his stubble scratched at her chin, and she was once again reminded why they were in this journey of life together.
Jim pulled his lips away from hers and smiled down at her. His voice went husky and about three octaves lower when he asked, “What do you say we take a break and move this to the bedroom?”
She was speechless as she gazed dazedly into his smiling green eyes, a mischievous smirk on his face letting her know he was already thinking ahead to what he was planning to do with her once they made it into the bedroom.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jim smiled. She giggled blissfully when he brought his lips down to her neck while his hands pulled her by her waist, away from the counter and out of the kitchen.
Story Notes:
Should've known I couldn't stay away for too long. Thank you everyone for all of the wonderful feedback to my last story. I was a bit hesitant to start up a sequel for our AU PB&J, as I've never been a huge fan of sequels, but I couldn't help but continue on with their journey. The title of this story is borrowed from the wonderful Sufjan Stevens album.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters are the property of the author. I am not 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 are the property of the author. I am not associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Just a small introduction into the next chapter of Jim and Pam's new life together.
Chapter End Notes:
Like I said, just a small introduction. Things will get moving along shortly. We may even get a peek at DIY Jim in the next chapter. ;)
The playlists will still show up every now and then in this story. Here's a short one to get you started. It's what I listened to on the train while I wrote this little diddy.
Thank you for reading. I hope that I do not disappoint with this story.
The playlists will still show up every now and then in this story. Here's a short one to get you started. It's what I listened to on the train while I wrote this little diddy.
Thank you for reading. I hope that I do not disappoint with this story.
