Jim admired her courage. It was a part of her character that she rarely showed, languishing under a meek and shy demeanor, but in the past week following her departure from Roy it had coming blazing through. It took enormous bravery to leave such a dangerous situation the way Pam had. He had witnessed an unexpected resource of strength that she, he suspected, had not known was within her.

He couldn't dare to think what she must have felt in that moment – or indeed, during the long years she had spent with Roy in that house, alone. And she had turned up at his own door, her face already swelling, her ribs broken, beaten down to the bone, not only physically but emotionally. It was a horrifying sight he wouldn't ever forget. Coming up the driveway and seeing her, so small and so bloodied; it was an ironic moment that exactly what he feared happening- visions of exaggerated bruises and wounds that had been flashing in his mind as he drove streets hoping to find her first- had become a reality. What he had convinced himself would not happen – not to that extent at least, was exactly what did happen.

She hadn't lied to him, except by omission. He knew things were bad, he just had had no idea exactly how bad things could get with Roy. And when she'd turned around in front of him that night on his doorstep, his immediate thought had been that she must have been in an accident, car perhaps. It was unthinkable to him that another person had done that to her, coldly, deliberately. Viciously. A person who was supposed to marry her, to love her, to keep her safe. To be an equal to her.

Roy Anderson had been none of those things. Instead of realizing Pam as the love of his life, he had damn near taken her life. In more ways than just physically. In the direct face of that, Pam had managed to find the courage to walk away. She was vulnerable, terrified but somehow she had found the strength to stand up to him and leave in spite of everything. It was a remarkably brave act on her part, he thought, looking at her sitting rigidly beside him in the passenger seat.

He hadn't objected too much - as much as he would have liked to – to her decision to come in to work. He had started to explain his concern, but bit his tongue. He and Pam were not a couple. He had no right to try to convince her one way or another. He was conscious of the lines he saw that were being blurred between him and Pam – lines that he had always done his best to be respectful of and god knew now was not the time for him to be making moves. But when people are as close as he and Pam were, and sharing a house, however temporarily, there was always a potential for misinterpretations. Especially when one of the two was emotionally cycling through a myriad of feelings and reactions; and the other was firmly in love.

It was a quiet drive, Pam hunched into herself on his right, looking nervous but determined, while he was mired deeply in his own contemplations.

-TO-

They had gotten in a little earlier than they normally would, so that Pam could establish herself back at her desk with minimal attention as possible and able to quietly to seek out Toby. She figured she'd slip over to his desk discreetly and let him know she was back in the office.

She was glad of being there, of distracting herself. Soon her colleagues were passing by her desk with little more than a stretched good morning or grunt in her direction. So far so good.

"Sheeee's hee-eere…."

Pam startled, then slowly turned her head to the entrance, foreseeing Michael as he stood by the door, grinning maniacally towards the desk.

She stared nervously at him, standing still with his hands loosely folded at his front.

"Sheeee's hee-eere…." he drawled in falsetto again.

Pam watched him in wonder, before flicking a knowing glance in Jim's direction. Then Michael was slapping his hands on the desk excitedly.

"Oh… um.. hey Michael." she said.

"Pam, Pam, Pam." he chanted. "Good you're back."

"It's good to see you too." she pacified with a slight smile.

He slapped his hand down on the desk again. "It's good to see me too, Pam." he said playfully, turning to his office. "Back to the beach then, Pamela Anderson."

Pam flinched involuntarily and buried herself into catching up with the messages on her desk.

-TO-

All morning Pam had a curious feeling that she was being watched in some way. She would glance at Jim occasionally but he was occupied by Dwight, who seemed to be confiding something. She smiled at the mischievous look on Jim's face and reached for her painkillers.

"Oh...hey.. Angela." she said, noticing the petite head staring over at her.

"Pam."

"What?" she said, unnerved that Angela was still staring at her.

"Nothing." she said glibly. "You have something on your shirt."

Pam looked down frowning. "Oh?" She brushed at her front vigorously. "Is it gone?"

Angela stared at her, unblinking. "No, it's still there." She stood, leaning on one hip slightly, coffee in hand, her face hard and judgemental. She observed Pam running her hands over her shirt, looking for any mark or stain or fluff.

"Let me help you." she said, glaring at Pam. "It's on your chest, it's big, and it's red and it looks like the letter 'A'."

Pam blinked nervously. Angela stared her down a minute longer and then slunk back to her own desk. Pam's cheeks were hot. Her head buzzed. She had taken care and pain that morning to cover up tell tale injuries and bruises as much as possible. She looked over at Angela, who had her head down, then at Jim who had his back turned. She frowned, feeling a headache growing.

Pam intended to go ask Angela what she meant, waiting for a moment when Kevin and Oscar weren't nearby, or when Angela left the office so they would be alone. She tilted her head wearily and rested it on the palm of her hand.

The noise in the office grew around her. Kevin's eating, Dwight thumping his keyboard, even Jim's pen clicking began to overwhelm her. She bent her head low, feeling nauseous.

"Pamela." Michael sang as he bounded out of his office. "Tell me why I don't like Mondays."

She looked up at him as he went by. "Me neither." she whispered.

-TO-

Soon it was break time, and Pam studied Angela, getting up when she did and following her out to the kitchen, feeling a flicker of irritation to see Kevin and Phyllis sitting at one of the tables.

"Hey. What were you talking about earlier?" she whispered to Angela's back as she closed the fridge door. Turning round gracefully, Angela looked at her.

"It's an office, Pam, not a nineteen seventies key party."

"Um… what?" Pam shook her head in confusion.

"We know, Pam." Phyllis' voice piped up from behind them. "We know what you did to Roy." she said in her calm, motherly manner. Kevin began to snigger, his shoulders bouncing up and down.

Pam looked at the three of them in disbelief; at Angela's scornful glare, Kevin's childlike giggling, Phyllis' serious, matronly attitude.

"I knew Jim was hot for you." said Kevin, laughing cluelessly.

"That's the wrong way to make a man jealous, sweetie." Phyllis said passively, looking Pam over.

Pam's eyes narrowed. "What – I didn't- what do-"

"We saw Roy." Angela said. "I'm not surprised. Whorish is your color."

Her mouth fell open. The only noise from the kitchen was Kevin's incessant chuckling. Pam stared round all of them, her face red and her eyes bright.

"I'm not seeing anyone." she said, emphasizing herself.

"I only flirt with guys to get Bob's attention. Then he beats them up." Phyllis smiled smugly. "If you need to do more than flirt, something is very wrong."

"Right." Angela said.

Pam felt close to screaming. "Umm, okay." She mumbled weakly and went back to her desk, feeling pain flare up in her left side again. She sat down sullenly, taking a sip of water. She was hot and weary and she longed for a nap. It was beginning to seem like her entire world was against her. Her mom, her friends, Kenny. Roy had told her so many, many times that no one would believe her, that they saw the real Pam, the lying, useless Pam who needed a man to do everything for her. Roy had made sure of that now, she thought bitterly. Whatever he had told them, they just believed. Of course. She felt sick.

The phone on her desk was ringing, the tone blurry and far away in her muddled, anxious mind. She lifted the receiver with a clammy hand, assuring the caller with her greeting that they had reached Dunder Mifflin.

"Don't hang up." the gruff voice said in reply.

Anxiety flowed into her body, driving away the last of any patience she had left.

"This is over, Roy." she said sharply, determined that she would not fall back to the familiar patterns of being submissive, weak and appeasing to his temper and every swing of mood. No more. She banged the phone down.

The she got up and went to the bathroom to throw up.

-TO-

When she came out of the bathroom some time later, the ground was still heaving beneath her feet and she was shaking with emotion and fatigue. She slumped down on the top stair to the lower floor and dropped her head into her hands. She cried, quietly and controlled, holding herself back at great force. It was a moment before she registered that she was not alone, that someone had an arm around her, a warm body was pressed against her.

She looked up gratefully, not even caring at that point who it was.

"It's okay." Dwight said awkwardly, patting her shoulder. To a spectator it might have seemed amusing, a sobbing lady hunched over with her head in her hands with a big, ill prepared man uneasily trying to offer comfort sitting stiff as a rock neck to her.

He sat with her for a while, saying little. Despite her emotional state, thinking back on that moment later on, Pam would find herself touched by his gesture. He was not by nature a sympathetic or caring man. You just never knew what people were really made of, she realized.

After Dwight had gone back to the office, Pam went to find Toby. After a brief conversation with Toby, in which he profusely apologised for the entire office and Roy she headed off to find an empty room and waited until it was time for Jim to finish.

-TO-

"I'm sorry." She said for about the twentieth time that night.

"That word is banned from this house." Jim said, reaching over and playfully pushing her arm.

"I'm no fun to be around." Pam said, honestly. "I shouldn't be dragging you into one disaster after another. You know what they are saying about us." she rubbed her eyes. Once Jim had driven them back to his house, they'd made yet another phone call to the police regarding Roy. Then Pam had taken a three hour nap, which had felt more like passing out than sleeping.

"Pam," Jim started, tired of this same argument. "Quit crucifying yourself. Okay?"

"I just don't like that they are thinking those things about you, because of me." she said.

Jim laughed. "Hey, I'll live. Forget it, Beesly. That stuff is not important."

"Roy is following me wherever I am." she said guiltily. "He's in my head, and in my sleep. He's not going to leave me alone."

"It seems like that now, but it won't be forever." Jim said, feeling useless and not knowing what to say to comfort her. He knew as well as she did there was no promising Roy or the situation would end soon.

Pam sniffled. "I can't go back to him. He'll kill me."

Jim went rigid at her words. "You want to-"

"No!" she spat vehemently. "No I don't. But that's what he wants."

"Have a little faith." he said. "We'll keep you safe, Beesly." he said with feeling.

"It's just-" Pam broke off as the room plunged into darkness. The tv dropped out and there was a resounding silence.

"Oh boy." Jim said. "I think we've got a blackout." From her seat against the connecting wall, Pam shuddered.

"It's really dark." she said. The whole of the downstairs was pitch black. Fifteen minutes went by and there was still no power. Pam shifted out of her seat uneasily and made her way over to the couch where Jim sat.

"Jim, do you have any candles?" she asked.

"Errr… I don't think so." he replied. "Scared?"

"A little." She said honestly. She shifted close to him on the couch, feeling comforted by his touch, reassured by the feel of another person. Jim's arm dropped round her warmly and she pressed against him gratefully.

They sat together, in the blackness waiting for the light to come back. Pam was anxious, it unnerved her being in stuck in a thick darkness like that. There was a claustrophobic panic squirming in her stomach. She shivered again and laid her head on Jim's shoulder. Minutes later, she could feel the soft pressure of his cheek resting against her hair.

"Jim." she said into the night.

"Yeah?"

"How come whenever the lights go out, you're always there?"

She couldn't see his expression in the darkness, nor the nervous swallowing of his throat which had suddenly gone dry.

"Just lucky I guess." he said softly.