PAM POV
Jim was already on the roof by the time I climbed the ladder. His lanky body was sprawled in the lawn chair, head tipped back in a way that I found inexplicably sexy. I paused to just take him in for a moment, because I could finally stare without anybody noticing and teasing me for it. Even though he sat right in front of me for three years, I still couldn’t get enough. Somehow, he was even more gorgeous now that he was actually mine.
I knew I’d get used to him soon, that I wouldn’t want to touch him every second of every day, that I wouldn’t always feel so abjectly grateful that we could finally be together. I knew that someday it would be more or less commonplace to wake up next to him. But not yet. Not today.
“You just here to stare, Beesly, or are you gonna join the party?” Jim asked without turning his gaze from the sky.
“The party being you and a couple of rusty lawn chairs? Boy, you don’t get out much, do you?” I said, walking toward him.
Jim snagged my hand when I got close enough and pulled me down for a slow, soft kiss.
“Mmm,” he rumbled against my lips. “Definitely worth waiting all day for.”
“Or at least the four hours since lunch,” I corrected, settling into the lawn chair next to him.
His slouchy position left his head resting atop the rusted back of the lawn chair. He didn’t sit up, just turned his head enough to be able to watch me, looking as relaxed as somebody who just had a two-hour massage. It was almost enough to make me rethink the question I was going to ask him, but Jim and I had had so many miscommunications in the past that now I made the effort to say what I was thinking, even when I thought it was obvious.
“So, I know you said you weren’t mad about Ryan, but I just wanted to make it clear that there’s nothing going on between us. I’m just sorry you had to be sitting there when he asked me. And how asinine is it that he was surprised we were together?! I mean, everyone else in the office was pretty much like, ‘its about time!’ so if Ryan somehow missed all our signals it’s because he’s totally self-absorbed, not because it is actually surprising that we’d be together.”
Jim raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Wow, that was some speech. Do I hear Fancy New Beesly coming out to play?”
I tilted my head at him. “Really, Jim? I want to make sure it didn’t bother you, and if it did, I’ll feel better if you admit it than if you try to play it off like it was nothing.”
“No, I’m good. Really. I was just worried that he was going to try to call off the logo deal to avoid the embarrassment of dealing with you after you shut him down.”
I considered that. Ryan had said that he still wanted to see my drawings, but what if that was all a front and he wasn’t even going to look at them anymore?
I frowned and looked down at my hands. “They’re never going to pick my design now, are they? Because I pissed off Ryan?”
Jim did sit up now, reaching over to rub my shoulder. “No, it’ll be ok. Toby said that HR was going to be involved, to make sure that the logo proposals were approved by a committee. Otherwise, they could get accused of favoritism, and you know how corporate hates the threat of a lawsuit.”
I looked over at Jim. “Toby said that?”
“Yeah, he mentioned it.”
“And he knew about the possibility of a new logo because…”
Jim waved a hand, his face suspiciously neutral. “Oh, you know. Those HR guys are into everything. Remember a couple years ago when Michael was convinced that Toby was planting bugs in the urinal cakes so he could listen in on all the secret business being conducted in the men’s room? Maybe he was right for a change.”
I folded my arms. “And you, of course, had nothing to do with the matter.”
“With Toby bugging the urinal cakes? Please, Pam, I already know more than I care to about the business of all the Dunder-Mifflinites. Though it would be funny if Dwight thought I had bugs around the office,” he mused.
“Don’t change the subject. You reported Ryan to Toby, didn’t you?”
“Toby’s an honest guy. He doesn’t go in for favoritism,” Jim dodged, but he crossed his arms, so I knew I’d managed to make him uncomfortable.
I thought about it for a minute, and decided I wasn’t really mad. It was sweet of Jim to look out for me like that, and it wasn’t like I was taking unfair advantage. I just wanted my logo design to have a fair chance, even if I didn’t want to date Ryan the wonderkind (which is what he managed to let slip that people at corporate were calling him. If it still counts as a slip when you do it four times, that is).
“Thank you,” I said softly.
“You’re welcome,” Jim said. “Hypothetically, of course.”
“Ok, I do have to ask again, though, at risk of sounding Kelly-esque. Why aren’t you mad at Ryan? I mean, I know you and Roy have very little in common, but he would have ripped Ryan’s face off by now.”
Jim shrugged. “You’re free to date whoever you want.”
“I know that. The lack of jealousy is refreshing… but unexpected, I guess.”
Jim laughed, that rich, contented laugh that I never heard until after we got together. “Beesly, I always knew I would make you happier than anyone else could. I just needed a chance, is all.”
“So cocky,” I said, shaking my head.
“So true,” he countered, bumping me playfully with his shoulder. “Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that we’re already as comfortable with each other as an old married couple.”
“Yeah, I was definitely catching those old married people vibes when we were fighting over the front page this Sunday.”
“Yes, but that ended well,” Jim pointed out.
“Of course it did! Because your idea of a compromise was to have me sit on your lap and how was I supposed to care about the paper then?” I protested, fighting a blush.
“My mother always taught me to compromise,” he said innocently.
“You know, the three years we were just friends gave me no idea of the depths of depravity that resided within you,” I said, pointing a playfully accusing finger at him.
He shrugged and grinned shamelessly. It was true. Jim was a perfect gentleman in public. He never so much as let our arms brush when we were at work, but when we were alone (or on the IM, or the phone, or the email, or text…), it was absolutely embarrassing how fast he could turn me on.
The last few years that I was with Roy, I had begun to wonder if I was seriously frigid, because I was never in the mood. About ten seconds alone in a room with Jim was enough to disprove that theory. Although I’m not sure a woman in the world could manage to be frigid with Jim Halpert. I didn’t even know that lovers existed that were that patient, gentle, thorough…creative. He made love to me like my pleasure was the only thing in the world that mattered. And so even a look from him was enough to remind of the sensual delights he’d introduced me to.
Which, of course, meant that work was a new kind of torture now.
“You’re right, though,” I told him. “We are getting the best of both worlds. The craziness of not being able to keep our hands off each other without all that ‘trying to impress you, can’t really be myself yet’ stuff.”
“What would you know about awkward new relationships, Sister Beesly?”
“You’re just lucky Kelly doesn’t single you out for ‘girl talk.’”
“Actually, horribly, she used to. At least until I told her that Ryan wasn’t that into her.”
“You told her that?” I said, giggling.
“I couldn’t take it anymore!”
“Plus, I had a little of that stage, when we first started dating,” I admitted, glancing away.
“What do you mean?”
“I kept thinking that you’d get enough of me, and then you’d want to be just friends again. Or that you’d regret giving up that job at Corporate, or leaving Karen.”
Pain flashed in Jim’s eyes and he took my hand, tugging me over onto his lap.
“I’m ok, Jim,” I told him, smiling. “It’s ok now.”
“I know. Just… you can sit here and tell me, ok?” he said, holding me close to his chest.
I rested my head against his shoulder. I could guess why it bothered him. He’d wondered how I felt about him for so many years that the feeling of insecurity I was describing was hitting a little too close to home. Knowing Jim, it was fine for him to feel that way, but he didn’t want me to suffer.
“It’s a lot of pressure, you know? You had that crush on me for three years, and when we started dating, there were a few days I could barely talk to you for fear that I wouldn’t live up to what you hoped I would be.”
His chuckled softly, the vibration against my back as soothing as the purring of a cat.
“So, you know that’s ridiculous now, right?”
I didn’t answer.
He pulled away from me slightly to see my face, then tilted his head quizzically. “Pam?”
“Yeah,” I told him. “Mainly. I had a pretty rough time for a while, and I couldn’t really talk myself out of it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He pulled me even closer, his hand sort of unconsciously rubbing my back, seeking to sooth.
“Remember like a month ago, when I had that disgusting stomach flu thing? That night, when you were braiding my hair for me, and I was too tired to make conversation, and probably smelled like death- that was the night it started to sink in.” I twisted a little so I could look at him, so he’d believe me. “That you weren’t just going to leave me if I wasn’t very witty one day, or if I wore my laundry-day shirt, or if I was grouchy in the morning. That’s when I started to believe that you really do love me, and not some inflated image of me you had.”
He smiled. “Well, yeah Pam. I did know a little about you before we started dating, you know.”
“I know that. But you were a great friend, Jim, and you’re an amazing boyfriend, and an incredible person… I’ve always believed in you. It just took me a little longer to start believing in me.” I should have been embarrassed about the tears in my eyes, but I wasn’t. I trusted him-enough that I didn’t want to hide this Achilles heel from him.
“Listen, Pam,” his voice was a little rough now, and I could see how much he’d been affected by what I’d said. “I’m more than happy to spend years showing you how absolutely much I adore you, and will adore you, when you are a receptionist and when you are a famous artist and when you’re an aged couch potato waiting for the weekly nursing home outing.” And here his voice gentled even more. “But the thing is, I don’t want you to be worrying all that time. About anything, but especially not about how perfect you are for me.”
One tear spilled down my cheek, and I wiped at it impatiently. I didn’t have any words of my own, so I borrowed one of Jim’s.
“Wow. See, if you’re trying to convince me you’re not too good for me, that speech wasn’t the best way to do it.” I gave him a wavering smile, but he still looked concerned.
“I’m not worrying, Jim. I absolutely believe in us,” I told him, cupping his cheek and smiling at him, wishing away the shadows of concern I still saw in his green eyes.
“But then why…?” he ventured.
I shrugged. “I just, kind of wanted you to know how I felt. Because you are so sure of us, and I wasn’t for a while, and hiding that from you felt like I was trying to be something I’m not again. I’m trying really really hard not to do that anymore.”
“I know you are,” Jim said. “Although I hope you don’t consider that French maid costume I bought you backsliding…?”
I laughed, which I know is what he was hoping for.
He stood up with me still in his arms, and kissed me.
“Come on. I think since you had to turn down dinner with the Corporate Wonderkind, I probably owe you a meal.”
He bent to set me back on my feet, and then pulled me back into a tight hug, his arms wrapped all the way around me and his face bent to my hair.
“You give the best hugs,” I murmured into his chest.
He pulled back and winked at me. “That’s because my arms are like a foot longer than yours. Its 1/3 more hug for your money.”
“Money? Didn’t realize I was paying you for those.”
“Well, Pam, hugs that good don’t come free.”
“In that case, I’m scared to see the bill for, ah-hem, other things.”
He waggled his eyebrows at me and held out a hand, ushering me onto the ladder first.
I let us both out of the office and we were trying to decide where to go for dinner when Jim spotted Dwight from across the parking lot and pointed.
“Wow, what’s that all about?” he wondered.
Dwight was pacing back and forth and shouting into the phone. “Question. Does your supervisor understand how poorly you keep records? This is unacceptable behavior on the part of your entire department. Do you realize that I used to be a volunteer sheriff’s deputy right here in Laka- no I will not hold!”
“Oh don’t worry about it.” I waved a hand and kept heading for my car. “I bought a fake boot on E-bay. You know, the ones cops put on your tire when you have a parking ticket in New York? Anyway, I put it on Dwight’s car. He’ll figure out it’s fake sooner or later, especially since the police department has no record of it.”
Jim had stopped dead in his tracks, so I turned and gave him an innocent look.
“You coming?”
“And yet, somehow you doubt that you are the woman of my dreams,” he said, shaking his head.
I reached out and took his hand, letting a grin spread across my face. “It’s becoming clearer.”
Chapter End Notes:
So, I meant this story to show why they were so comfortable with each other, and I was actually pretty surprised to find out that Pam had some doubts at first. But, it's my policy to never argue with fictional characters, so I left it in the story. Besides, I thought it felt like the truth.
Trogdor19 is the author of 1 other stories.
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