Disclaimer: I don't even own the ice packs Jim uses in this story. So, obviously I claim no ownership of anything related to the Office.
Cobwebs
He drags the coffee table closer and gently lifts her foot, placing it on top of a throw pillow from the couch. His head is spinning as he walks quickly to the kitchen to set up one of the ice packs the hospital gave them for Pam’s ankle. As he tries to activate one of them, his mind races. He’s still flying from the hospital visit.
He and Pam are going to have a baby.
Reliving the moment in his head hasn’t gotten old yet. He’s already replayed it thousands of times, and he knows before the day is done he’ll replay it thousands more. Letting out an impatient sigh, he tosses the first ice pack in the trash as it begins to leak. He’s done this countless times, with all his injuries in high school sports; but now he can’t seem to get the ice packs to work properly.
Clearly his mind is elsewhere.
“These must be defective,” he mutters to no one in particular as he gives up and dumps the remaining cold packs. He walks around the kitchen, attempting to put together a makeshift ice pack for her ankle until he can run out to the drugstore to get more. For a moment, he stares into the freezer, not entirely sure why he’s opened it in the first place. His mind has drifted back to Pam. Pam and the baby. Pam and him and the baby and their life together.
He’s still not entirely convinced this isn’t a dream.
Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he grabs the tray of ice cubes and sets them on the counter, letting the freezer door slam as he tries to break them out of the mold. He has entirely processed the idea, and at the same time, it hasn’t quite registered yet. He isn’t sure that it’s possible, but it’s the only way he can comprehend how he’s feeling.
Walking into the bathroom, he opens the linen closet, yanking a hand towel out from the stack and cursing under his breath as he watches the rest of them tumble to the floor. He haphazardly places the towels back on the shelf without bothering to fold them. All he wants is to be near Pam. The rest of the world can wait. He wants this feeling to last as long as possible. This feeling of nothing but joy and shock and excitement, all at the same time.
Jim quickly tosses the ice cubes in the towel, rolls it up, and opens the drawer, fumbling for a rubber band. For a brief moment, he watches her from the kitchen, staring in awe as she frees her curls from the ponytail holder. She tosses it gently, missing the coffee table, and she cringes. Slowly, she leans over, reaching for the remote on the other end of the couch. He laughs to himself for a moment, watching her awkwardly slap her hand on the cushion in hopes that the remote would move closer to her. When she lets out a slightly pained squeal, he rushes into the living room.
He walks over to retrieve the remote, playfully glaring at Pam as she straightens up in her seat, folding her hands in her lap and innocently glancing up at the ceiling. He walks around the couch, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead as he hands her the remote control. Careful not to touch her ankle, Jim gingerly lifts Pam’s foot and wraps the towel around it, securing the two loose ends of the towel with the rubber band.
Jim turns to ask her if it’s too cold on her ankle, but the thought escapes before it becomes words. She’s watching him, almost in a daze. He’s being as gentle as possible, but he isn’t really looking at what he’s doing. He’s looking into her eyes, and she’s looking back with a grin he’s sure mirrors his own. They haven’t really said much, but he knows she’s just as happy as he is. They stare for a moment, almost communicating telepathically, before he catches her readjusting herself slightly and he freezes. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “No, no, my butt was falling asleep. I think I was leaning in an awkward position.”
“Do you want me to move the coffee table closer?” he asks, dragging the table closer before she can answer the question.
She smiles, leaning back against the couch cushions and pointing the remote at the television. “Much better. Thank you,” Pam replies, placing the remote on her lap and taking off her sweatshirt.
He returns to the temporary ice pack on her ankle, trying to spread out the ice cubes so they are evenly distributed inside the towel. He sees her giggle at him out of the corner of his eye and he lets go of her foot. “Are you mocking me and my medical expertise?” he asks, feigning offense as he walks around the couch and sits down next to her.
“No, it was just… cute, the way you were concentrating and wrapping my ankle so seriously. You had your tongue sticking out and you were so into it. You take good care of me.”
“You think so?” he asks as he wraps his arm around her.
She leans her head on his shoulder. “Mmhm. Like that time I got food poisoning at Cugino’s.”
“I told you not to deviate from your usual, Beesly,” he smirks.
“But you were there for me after I didn’t listen,” she giggles.
He runs his fingers through her hair as he smiles. “Well, lesson learned. Never try the lunch special at Cugino’s unless you or someone you know has tried it before.”
“And that time I got laryngitis for a week. You dropped by on your lunch break every day to bring me chicken soup. We’d been going out for what, two weeks?”
“Sounds about right.”
“You take good care of me and you’re going to take good care of our baby, too.”
Jim smiles contentedly, moving his hand over to Pam’s stomach. Our baby. He loves hearing her say those words. She’s already said them in the car, and he’s been called a dork for asking her to repeat them, but it doesn’t stop him from asking her one more time. “Say that again?”
“You’re going to take good care of our baby, too,” she says, interlacing her fingers with his and resting their joined hands on her stomach.
Pam straightens and gives him a big smile, letting out a tiny giggle of happiness as he leans forward for a kiss. She throws her arms around his neck and returns the kiss, and he’s been jarred out of his dreamlike state. He lifts her gently and carries her toward the bedroom, careful not to hurt her ankle.
**
He’s been staring at the ceiling for hours. Or at least what feels like hours. Time has been passing a little more slowly today, and that’s okay. It’s been a really great day, he decides as he turns over to look at Pam. He leans forward and brushes a stray curl out of her face, and he stares in amazement for a moment.
It’s taking everything he has not to move toward her, to rest his hand on her stomach as he presses soft kisses in her hair. He knows she’s had a long and exciting day; she’s probably exhausted. But it’s all still new, and it’s all still fresh, and he wants nothing more than to pull her closer and wrap her in his arms.
Something in him is preventing him from going to sleep, and he needs to fix it, or he’ll go insane. He slowly climbs out of bed, cringing as she turns over in her sleep. It’s taking all he has not to laugh at the awkward position she’s moved into. Her arm is shoved under the pillow, and she’s lying on her back with one knee poking up through the covers. Regardless of the less than graceful nature of her sleeping position, he can’t wake her. He knows she’s comfortable and her faint snores have started up again.
He tiptoes around the bed and makes his way to the door, stubbing his toe along the way. He grimaces, trying not to wake her up as he catches his breath. He finds the door handle and slowly pulls it open. The small light he keeps on in the hallway for her pours into the room and he smiles. Her wrapped ankle is just barely poking out from underneath the sheets and she’s fast asleep.
Shutting the door just a little, he slowly moves toward the bed. Gently, he reaches for the sheets and pulls them toward her side of the bed. He stops for a moment as she stirs, hoping he didn’t disturb her. Once he’s sure she’s asleep, he tugs on the sheets one more time, draping them over her outstretched ankle and tucking them under the mattress. He steps away from the bed and moves toward the door.
“See? Told you that you take good care of me,” she croaks in a sleepy voice, looking up at him with one eye open and one eye shut.
Jim walks to her side of the bed, brushing her hair out of her face again before kissing her forehead. He climbs back into bed and she moves closer to him, pulling his arm around her waist. He closes his eyes as his body finally gives in to the idea of sleep.
He couldn’t be happier.
The End
Author's Chapter Notes:
It's a little oneshot I can't get out of my head. Yes, it's entirely late to be jumping on this bandwagon, but here I am. I wrote it the night after the finale, in my own defense... thanks to all the people who made this one possible. My goal setters, betas, and readers... it's all because of you guys! Thanks so much!
JamJunkie14 is the author of 5 other stories.
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