Chapter Eleven

When she hears him say it she stares at her feet, and feels incredibly guilty. "I know."

He heaves a sigh of relief when he she finally looks up at him. "So what the hell are we doing?"

"I don't know." She says softly. "I'm sorry."

He's still confused. Is it better now? Because it doesn't feel better. Well. Slightly better, but still not all the way better. He gazes into her eyes and whispers. "Me too."

"When you say stuff like that…like how much you don't like him. I feel like…" She blinks back tears. "I feel like you think I'm a moron."

That is that last thing he expects her to say. He's completely baffled and feels, simply awful if he's had any part in making her think that way about him, or more importantly about herself.

It takes him a few minutes to find his voice again. "Pam. How could you even..."

She looks at him, exasperated and cuts him off. "Because. Do you know how many people have said to me…'I'm so glad you're not with him anymore. He wasn't right for you. How did you ever put up with it for so long?'." She runs a hand over her cheek to swipe the tears away. "It's almost funny. People are very forthcoming with advice after the fact."

She looks down at her feet again. "And I just keep thinking as they say it that…you don't know. You think you do - but you don't. I know he acted like he didn't care sometimes…" Her eyes meet his and she clarifies. "…OK…a lot of the time. But he did. He really does love me… at least he used to ."

This should be easier. You're supposed to be happier now. Why can't you stop crying?

"I'm sure he still does. It's not something you can turn on and off like that. Trust me. I tried a million times to get myself to stop." His voice lowers as he takes a step closer. "It was hopeless."

She doesn't react to what he's saying, she's still talking through her tears. "I don't love him, I mean not like…before. Not like in the beginning. But I still care about him and I know I always will. I think people assume that I never did or don't anymore- just because I called off the wedding." She looks at him closely. "And honestly? I think you think that I shouldn't have ever loved him at all. That I should have loved you - just you - like before I even knew you - instead."

And as she says it he's forced to see it for himself. It's just that simple. The truth hits him like a slap in the face. She's right.

"Pam…" He takes another step towards her.

She looks up at him, her eyes pleading. "I loved him and I was going to marry him. I can't just pretend it didn't happen Jim. I'm sorry but I can't…"

Now who's the moron? He thinks as his arms reach out and he pulls her close. "Shh. I know."

"God. What were we thinking? We totally suck at this." She murmurs as she buries her face in the crook of his neck and his heart breaks a little bit more as he feels her tears, hot on his skin.

He holds her tighter. "Seems like it doesn't it? But if I'm not mistaken I think the Icelandic judge has given us a 7.8." He laughs a bit as he adds, "So. We're above average but not without room for improvement."

She shifts and rises on her toes so that her mouth is no longer pressed against collar. Even with her heels on he is freakishly tall. She doesn't care what he says. She breathes him in and he smells like soap and…jasmine.

She's completely distracted now. There is no way she's not going to comment. "Don't you smell pretty?" She giggles.

He rolls his eyes. Of course. She would notice. "Yeah. I - um. I got the wrong fabric softener."

"Uh huh." She laughs harder.

He keeps trying to explain himself. Why he can't really fathom. "It was on sale. I didn't realize it was one of those botanical kinds…infused with camomile or…something."

"It's jasmine." She informs him, her face still buried against his neck, her laugh bouncing off his skin. And all at once he's decided that's the best feeling on earth. Her laughing, so close to him he can actually feel it.

Even as he thinks this, he's still trying to make her understand. He tries to brush it off. Like the fact that he smells like exotic flowers is nothing to find at all odd.

"Whatever. The bottle was blue - just like the other. It was an honest mistake. I mean c'mon. I'm a straight up "april fresh" kinda guy usually…"

"Oh of course." She can barely get the words out she's laughing so hard. "Because, everyone knows. Nothing says manly like "april fresh"."

And this is how it should be, this is what I've always imagined it'd be like…with him.

She clutches his flowery scented shirt and tries to get closer to him. His hand presses against her back and she's never felt so safe and…loved she realizes. She knows what she said before was right - that he loves her so much he wants to be the only one she's ever loved back.

Is that really such a bad thing, Pam? She's starting to think that it's not at all.

She snuggles closer and closes her eyes. Hugging Jim is like wearing an oversized sweatshirt, she thinks with a sigh. It covers every inch of you and makes you warm all over.

"Maybe we don't suck at this so much after all." She says as she pulls back to look at him.

"Maybe not." He agrees as his hand reaches up to wipe a tear still clinging to her cheek.

"So. Tell me something." She whispers as her eyes dart from his down to his mouth and back again. "Are you going to let me get to first base already? I mean. Has it been enough time yet?"

"I don't know. Unlike some people, who shall remain nameless.." He looks at her pointedly. "I do have morals and values. And of course, my mom always said, 'don't give away the milk for free.'"

He's saying one thing but his hands don't get the message it seems. He averts his eyes from hers as his hands inch up her sides and she's finding it difficult to concentrate.

"I'm just saying, there's slow and then there's going backwards." She says, her breath hitching.

"Really?" He grins down at her and barely moves. Except for his hands...his hands...

She focuses enough to mutter. "Prude."

"Hussy." He replies, laughing as he dips his head and covers her mouth with his.

Wow…OK. She thinks dizzily. It's so different this time. This time it's not so desperate, not so…urgent…not so…C'mon Pam. Make up your mind. It's so slow and so soft and so warm and her nails dig into his shoulders to keep herself from toppling over.

She makes a sound, deep in her throat as his lips move away from hers, sliding to her jaw and making a trail up to her ear.

And it makes him smile. Knowing, simply knowing, that she's not thinking of anything else but him now, makes him grin like crazy.

Her ear. Oh God. Her legs nearly buckle as he does something with his tongue that should be illegal. Before he moves on, he gently bites down on her earlobe and she's blind for a second. Suddenly all she can do is hear, feel, smell…Jim.

And he notices the change in her, even as he's consumed with hearing, feeling, smelling…Pam. His lips glide across her skin and her hands slip from his shoulders.

They slide down to his waist and as they do she feels him flinch a little. He's ticklish. She smiles as she runs her fingers over the exact same spot once more, noticing how he jerks away, just slightly, again. Ah ha. Good to know.

His mouth moves back to hers and captures her sigh as she sways into him, still unsteady on her feet. His lips take little nibbles until hers part under his and he deepens the kiss, his tongue flicking against the roof of her mouth as his hands move under the hem of her shirt.

He's barely even touching her, his fingers are just lightly hovering over her skin but still and all, she's pretty sure that she can die now, right this second, and be happy.

He feels her shiver as her hands reach up and tug at his tie. She works the knot out of it, her lips never leaving his, at least not for long. She does have to take time to breathe, she realizes.

His tie slides through his collar and she tosses it onto the floorboards. Sighing again, she spears her hands in his hair, keeping his mouth fused to hers, pressing herself as close as she possibly can, and not nearly close enough.

This is something better. This is something else. He thinks with a smile. This is something different.

He's spun her around, but she doesn't even notice. His back is now resting against one of the posts near the stairs and he lifts her, literally lifts her up off her feet as he pulls her closer still.

Though he tries like hell to block it out he can hear the sounds around him. He's hearing the shouts of little kids, the sounds of an ice cream truck, rambling somewhere in her neighborhood, it's chimes sounding just like a canon all of the sudden.

And hearing the sounds get louder he pulls away, incredibly reluctantly, placing her gently back on her feet.

"OK. We don't suck. AT ALL." She says breathlessly.

She looks completely frazzled and he looks incredibly pleased with himself. "Nope." He agrees, equally breathless.

She presses a hand to her heart, afraid it just might fly from her chest. Her lips look bee stung and he can barely keep himself from leaning down and taking another taste.

She shakes back her hair, which has somehow fallen loose about her shoulders. "I mean. Not even a little bit."

She finally begins to focus as she reaches up and pushes a lock of his hair off his forehead. The gesture is tender but her voice is full of annoyance. "7.8 my ass." She says, as her hand runs slowly down his arm before dropping to her side.

"Tsk, tsk. You don't want to get too confident." He replies, laughing softly, loving the flush she has in her cheeks now. His own, he's sure, are a similar shade. "We might need a little practice - keep ourselves on the top our game."

She ponders a minute, her breathing slowly returning to normal. "Practice is good."

"Some might say it makes perfect." He smiles back at her.

"Some might." She agrees.

"We'll have to work out a schedule." His eyes glimmer as he makes the suggestion.

And in a millisecond she's reminded he's not here to stay. She's also reminded, that he doesn't know all of her plans - not yet.

"Yeah." She stares at her feet. Two weeks, Pam. Tell him where you'll be in two weeks.

He takes a step back as a bunch of kids come squealing past. He looks after them for a second, remembering what it was like to be that young - to have nothing on your mind but hide and seek. Then his eyes return to her and he knows for sure.

This is something better. This is something else. This is something different.

She's gazing up at him again and he's lost. He shoves his hands in his pockets. It's the only thing he can do to keep himself from pulling her close again. He ducks his head and grins. "I mean. You can't improve if you don't get any court time."

"I thought we were talking baseball." She looks at him quizzically. "You men with your sports references, making it so difficult for women in the workplace." She says with disgust, shaking her head at him.

"OK, Jan." He gives her a look.

"Hey.Watch it. You do realize that would make you Michael." She counters smugly.

Never, ever, challenge me Beesly. Haven't you learned your lesson yet? You will lose. Every. Time.

She's definitely scored some points but he knows he's about to pull ahead.

He gives her a nod and a knowing smile."That may be but I'm pretty sure Jan at least got to second base with Michael. Where does that leave you?"