"Hey."
She yawns. "Hi."
"I knew I'd wake you up. Sorry."
"You don't sound very sorry," she teases.
"Wait, were you asleep?"
She giggles. "No."
"Then I'm not sorry."
"I should be asleep, though. It's pretty late."
He hears her roll over in her bed, sheets rustling.
"Do you want me to go?"
"No. I miss you."
"Yeah," he sighs, "I miss you, too."
"It hasn't even been that long since I saw you though. I mean, Saturday was..."
"...great."
"Very great," she nods. "Very, very great..."
Silence.
"I'm coming over there."
"What, right now?"
She sighs. "No. I guess not. I want to. But there's no way I can be back by 9 tomorrow morning."
"Can we do halfway?"
"Are you really up for that? It's" she glances over at her digital alarm clock, the only light in the dark room "One-oh-nine. And I'll see you on Friday, right?"
"...yeah, Friday..."
"Oh no! Really?"
"I'm sorry, Pam. It's just this--"
"No, it's okay. I just want to see you. Soon."
"Then let's do it. Now. We can meet at Montclair this time, at that one motel."
Pause. "What... one... motel?"
"Shut up."
"What? I wanna know. You don't want me to go to the wrong one, do you?"
"So we're meeting up then?"
"Maybe." Pause. "So... which motel again?"
Silence.
She smiles mischievously. "I just want you to say it."
Silence.
"So, how did that animation project end up?"
"I already told you. C'mon, you're wasting time."
"See you there. Iloveyoubye."
"HEY. No! You hang up now and I'm not going."
He doesn't hang up.
"What are you wearing?"
"What?"
"No! Not like, suggestively. Just I want to visualize you. And I have a feeling you're wearing the stripes."
"You're weird."
Pause.
"So?"
"Yeah, it's the stripes. Stalker. Because unlike some, I actually sleep fully-clothed."
"Hey, no, not fair, that was just once. And it wasn't even my fault. I spilled coffee over my pajamas and my other shirts were dirty except the ones I left at your place. I didn't know you were coming over."
"Right, but you could've worn boxers or something."
"Yeah, but haven't you ever wanted to sleep naked?"
"Not really. Is it fun?"
"Not when you're alone."
She hears his head sink deeper into his pillow.
"I don't like having to get up alone." His voice is muffled.
"You did sometimes, even when I was there."
"Well, you could've been with me. And that's what's really what matters. And I'd see you when I picked you up... or you picked me up, anyway. And then all day. And when we went home. And then at dinner, and at night, and the next morning."
"Stop, you're making me sad."
"But this is sad, isn't it?"
"It doesn't have to be."
"But it is."
"It's not our fault. If only the days didn't go so slowly. They didn't used to. This last year has just been this big fleeting string of memories of... you. Us. I can't even remember anything else. And now every day is long and defined and..." she sighs.
"This is what you want, though."
"I know it is. And it's not like I'm not having fun. It's just that I'm always doing something during the day so I don't really think about it, but at night, I can't fall asleep. I just need you here."
"I want to be there."
Silence.
"Can you talk me to sleep?"
"Like, bore you to sleep?"
"I just like your voice."
"Is that a no to Montclair, then?"
"Jim, there's just no way that could happen."
"Then let's just skip tomorrow and spend the whole day--"
"We skipped Friday."
"--making love."
Silence.
"Fine, okay, I'll talk you to sleep. But tomorrow night, it's your turn."
"Maybe tomorrow night we can do Montclair."
He grins. "I don't know if tomorrow night will work."
"That's not funny."
"I can't wait."
"God, me either."
Pause.
"So, talk!"
"Hmmm where to begin? Do you want me to talk about anything? Just anything?"
Silence. Her eyes are closed.
"Pam?"
She feigns a small snoring noise.
"Alright, I see how it is, Beesly. You're probably lying there in your striped pajamas with the matching top listening to me and laughing inside... who does that, honestly? No would go to the trouble of matching sleepwear except you. Especially when no one's going to see it. Not that it would be any less dorky if I were there. But I guess it wouldn't matter because you wouldn't be wearing pajamas anyway. I mean. Not. That... that came out... not like I thought it would. Um... sorry. I... are you even listening to me? Because if you aren't, I might as well not care what I say."
Silence.
"Or I could hang up."
Still no reply, just a rustle from her shifting.
"Well, okay then. I want to take you to that motel where we were so loud the manager made us leave. Well, I wasn't even that loud. You just... really..." he chuckles, loud enough that he doesn't hear her stifle a laugh.
"I really want to be kicked out again, Pam. I just miss you. And not only the sex, even though I guess I'm talking about it enough. Sex. Sex. Sexsexsex.
But like, afterwards, too. I miss making pancakes before you wake up and how excited every time you get even though it's really the only breakfast food I can manage to make. And when Michael says something relating to an inside joke we have and I look over at you and you're already smiling.
It's not even the big things that are weird, you know? It's just the stupidest things. I was watching TV yesterday and I was flipping through channels and your show was on and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't. And you were probably watching it there anyway, but I just wanted to watch it with you.
And it doesn't make sense because I know you're coming back in a few months, but I just can't imagine having you here, but I can't stand having you gone. I've gotten so used to being like this that I can't... and I know that you're following your dreams and this is so great and I wouldn't want it any other way, but I'm stupid and selfish and keep feeling that this'll only get worse and I'll spend my whole life waiting for you to come back.
And that's not even what I want to say... I don't know what I just said. I'm really just saying words right now. I should really just go to sleep. I hope you're asleep by now and I'll see you tomorrow, hopefully, okay? I love you, Pam."
He shakes his head and sighs into his pillow, ready to hang up.
"Jim."
Silence.
"Did you really hear all of that?"
"Jim, I'll see you at the motel in an hour, okay?" Her voice cracks.
He smiles a little. "You should've said something."
"I love you."
"So we're really doing this? Isn't it kind of late?"
Pause.
"Pam?"
Dialtone.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sort of a companion piece to my story "The Air You Took." Well, they both draw their names from the same song. That fic is near the beginning of Pam's Pratt stay and this is near the end, but that's where the similarities end, I guess.
Disclaimer: Here I am, not claiming anything. These are fictional characters and I have nothing to do with them, etc.
*
amorous is the author of 3 other stories.
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