Jim knew that Pam wasn’t happy. But, to be fair, the whole of Scranton pretty much knew she wasn’t happy. It wouldn’t come as a surprise to him if a video of her tantrum outside somehow made it onto youtube, knowing the people they worked with.
So he was silent during the drive home, knowing that when she was ready to talk.. she would. He wordlessly gathered her coat and belongings from her when they arrived home, allowing her to sink into the sofa and rub her eyes while sighing softly to herself. Without asking, he immediately went upstairs to draw her a bath, adding a little bit of extra lavender soak, something he only brought out for her on the worst days.
By this time, she had made her way up the stairs, plaintively ignoring the chirping of her cell phone, discarded on the coffee table downstairs. He opened his arms and she molded herself into them, allowing herself to momentarily relax and sink into his warmth.
“…I just…” she murmured into his chest, and he shushed her, kissing the top of her head.
“It can wait until after your bath,” he said, sliding her blazer down off of her shoulders. “Just give yourself some time to relax, I’ll make dinner, and then we’ll talk.” He promised, undoing the buttons on her blouse. “Just don’t stress yourself out too much,” he asked, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around her.
“I don’t want our baby to come out knowing what Dunder Mifflin is like,” he joked softly, placing kisses all over her slightly larger belly, easing her skirt down over her hips.
“You’re right, you’re right,” she sighed, tangling her fingers in his hair.
He stood up and loosened his tie, nudging her toward the bathtub. “I’ll get dinner started,” he promised, stripping off his work clothing and changing into a simple white t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, pausing for a moment to make sure she was getting in.
She walked into the bathroom and found herself immersed in her favorite lavender scent. Inhaling, she smiled. One of these days, she was really going to convince him to tell her where he got that… Sinking into the hot water, she allowed the events of the day to seep out of her memory, and instead listened to the sounds of Jim in the kitchen. A few moments, he returned, placing two fresh-washed and fluffy bath towels on the edge of the bathtub.
“We really will get a Jacuzzi tub one of these days, I promise,” he told her, kissing her forehead, “Try not to get too pruny.”
Smiling, she closed her eyes and relaxed into the heat, letting the events of the day escape her, if only for a little while. She'd tackle that whole mess later.
Story Notes:
I own nothing. Not the characters, not the actors. And sadly, not even John Krasinski. Not for lack of wanting... just for lack of coming up with it first.
mifflinite is the author of 0 other stories.
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