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Story Notes:
I started writing this as the “one time he did” for my Five Times fic, but it started to feel more like a stand-alone story. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about all of the things that we don’t see or are unspoken in Casino Night, and have always wanted to write something like this. There is a little liberty here based on my assumption that Jim and Pam’s kiss that night went a little longer than we saw (between the end of Season 2 and what we see in the beginning of Season 3). So, there’s that. Anyway, enjoy!
-s*
Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
He'd been thinking this was all fine and that he could just be her friend and be in love with her so long as she was happily with someone else, but the thing is, he knows she's not happy, and it's fucking torture knowing he's a little closer to losing her completely every day that her wedding gets closer. Or maybe he's already lost her—maybe he never even had a chance with her. But as soon as he and Jan start talking seriously about the transfer, he starts hatching a plan to find out for sure.

He decides it’s going to have to be Casino Night, because it’ll be easy to find some time alone and because he can have a few drinks and get his nerve up. And because there’s no reason, really, but a deadline’s a deadline.

*

The night is bizarrely full of not terribly veiled metaphors for their relationship and it’s impossible to avoid reading into everything. They’re dressed up more than they’ve ever been with one another, her a little more than is strictly appropriate for the occasion, but it’s in a dress she wore in her sister’s wedding. He knows this because she showed him pictures of it after the fact, and he knows she’s wearing it for him because he told her that she looked really pretty in it, and she scoffed and said something about how Roy didn’t think it was a good color on her.

He puts all of his chips on the table, and so does she. There are people all around them, but it’s like they’re in their own bubble, only seeing each other despite playing at a table with a handful of other people. She tells him that she’s going to take him all in, and keeps her eyes, sparkling with flirtation, on him as she takes everything he had to offer.

When he returns her eye contact after taking a long swig of his whiskey, she’s grinning at him in a way she never really has before.

***

He decides it was a crazy idea to pick tonight after talking to Jan. He’d approached her with every intention of telling her Thanks, but no thanks, but hearing her talk about Michael and how she thought something would happen that was never going to happen makes him think maybe he has more to consider before laying it all on the line. Then he sees her and Roy walk out together, and makes up his mind to bail before anybody notices the significant downturn in his emotional state.

And then—just his luck—it looks like she’s decided to stay.

He can see his car and with it, his way out, if he can just get past them without either of them noticing him. He doesn’t need to do this to her tonight—to either of them.
And then Roy calls out to him and says something about keeping an eye on her and he wants to laugh in the guy’s face. Sure, he wants to say, I’ll keep an eye on her while you leave her again, and disappoint her again, and make her miserable again. I’ll keep an eye on her and I’ll cheer her up and I’ll make her smile and then she’ll go right back to you. Won’t that be great?

And then he’s asking her if they can talk.

And there’s no going back.

She looks nervous when his smile fades, and the further he goes into telling her things he’s held in since the first time they spoke, the more her face changes from nervous to angry. She watches him with a look that seems to accuse him of violating this unspoken agreement they have where they pretend they don’t have feelings for one another, and then she shoots him down. And as he walks away, his vision blurred with tears of defeat, he starts to think, Well, at least I did it. At least there’s no more ‘what if.’

*

The thing, though, is that she never said she didn’t love him back. She never said she didn’t feel the same way. All she said was. “I can’t,” and told him how much he meant to her, and isn’t this what they do? They get halfway to saying things, and then they backpedal to take the easy way out? He knows she’s not happy with Roy. And he knows she feels something for him. And saying I can’t isn’t saying I don’t, or this will never, or I won’t. It’s saying something about where things are right now, not about the future. And things change.

He walks up to the office because he figures that’s where she’ll end up eventually to get her purse or something, and he figures he’ll just wait for her, but then he sees her. And she’s on the phone. And she’s beautiful.

And she’s at his desk. And that has to mean something.

He strides over to her, his eyes trained on the floor, and he has every intention of opening his mouth and saying something to her (he’s not sure what, exactly, but he’ll come up with something), but then she says his name and he just throws caution to the wind and he doesn’t stop until he’s captured her lips with his. He feels her put a fisted hand to his chest and he has a thought that she’s about to push him away, but she sighs the tiniest bit and her hand travels up to his face and he kisses her as softly and slowly as he dares with lips that want to scream I love you until she says it back.

He didn’t realize it before now, but he’s been drowning for a while, for years. And kissing her is like finally coming up for air. Like he’s gulping it down after missing it for too long. When he realizes this, he pulls back to look at her. Because it’s Pam, and she’s breakable. And so far, this has been desperate and full of longing, and he wants to show her what it would be like to be loved by him, but only if she’s ready for that. And he is wholly unprepared for the look on her face, the pure desire in her eyes.

This time, he crushes his lips back to hers and kisses her with all of the passion that he has. He puts his hands to her face, on her waist, in her hair. He lets his fingers get tangled in her curls, lets them graze her stomach, drags them up her side until she shivers. He tries to touch every part of her that he can, to memorize every inch of her body. He feels her tentatively trace the contours of his chest, the muscles on his upper arms, the fabric of his sweater. And he thinks, She wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t want this too.

He doesn’t mean to tell her that he’s wanted to do that for so long, but he can’t keep it in. His heart is soaring. This has to mean what he wants it to mean. And when she says that she’s wanted to kiss him, too, he honestly feels like his feet have lifted off the ground, he feels so light.

“I think we’re just drunk,” she says, and she’s staring into his eyes in a way he never let himself dream that she might.

“I’m not drunk,” he murmurs back. Panic. “…Are you drunk?”

No,” she says, and she says it with such clarity, not one thing about her face changing even slightly, that he takes it as the ok to lean back in.

And then she says his name.

When he pulls back the second time, he has the striking feeling that she didn’t actually mean to say anything, that he could have just ignored it, but the words are tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. “You’re really gonna marry him?” He still can’t completely wipe the smile off of his face.

“Yeah,” she says, still staring at him dreamily, and he’s not really sure what to do with that.

“Ok,” he hears himself say, and he lets his hands slide down to grasp her hands and he can’t help but kiss her one last time before he lets her hands slip from his and he turns to leave.

And even though she’s just broken his heart completely for the second time that night, he feels liberated. The secret is no longer riding on his shoulders and weighing him down. He said what he wanted to say. He will never have to wonder what would have happened. He had let go of the only what if he had any control over and plunged into terrifying, uncertain waters.

And he had survived.

Most of him feels heavy once again, but a little part of his heart is still soaring. Because at least he never has to wonder ever again.
Chapter End Notes:
I know it's a little long but if you made it to the end, I'd love to know what you think!


watchthesky84 is the author of 10 other stories.
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