"Please come away from the window." he coaxed, for the third time. She nodded her head slightly, only half hearing him, her vigil taking precedence over everything else.

"Pam." he said quietly, lightly catching her elbow in attempt to nudge her to face him. Shrugging herself out of his hold, she turned her head back to the street again, her still expression betraying her cool demeanor. Jim watched her worriedly. To say she had been calm about Roy's threatened arrival was a massive miscalculation. She simply stood, silhouette like against the daylight, a facade of self-possession bound to fool any bystander. But Jim knew her, knew her well. He was familiar with the small motions of her pupils surreptitiously darting left and right, checking for signs of danger. He saw behind those pupils, the heavy sadness and shock preparing to overwhelm her with all the strength of a rogue wave.

"It's been over an hour now." he stated weakly. Like it mattered. It could have been a minute or an hour, neither would change the situation. "Please come sit down." He didn't know what else to do. She had slipped into a void, some kind of empty space where she was resigned to a life spent looking over her shoulder.

"Pam," he said. "Chances are Roy's passed out drunk somewhere. It's daylight. It was hours ago he called."

"Hope that's what it is." she said absently, gazing over the street. "The police wouldn't have been any use." she muttered.

"I'll go call them again." Jim offered. Pam shuddered, blinked slowly, a frown creasing her forehead. Like a sleepwalker she turned to him.

"Don't." she said shortly. She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes wandering erratically over the kitchen.

"Pam, I think-"

"Don't."

"Okay, so-"

"Shut it." she snapped.

Jim stared at her, taken aback. He watched her, now pacing agitatedly in front of the window.

"All this time." she muttered to herself. "I was an idiot to think I could get away."

"Roy's the idiot." he reminded her. "Not you."

Pam threw him a stormy glare. "What do you know? You never got locked in a bathroom for hours because you wanted to visit your family. You never had beer bottles thrown at you. No one choked you in anger! You didn't wake up night after night with someone climbing all over you and going along with it to keep them happy! You didn't let it all happen!"

She stopped, deep breaths shuddering her body, her face furiously flushing. Jim struggled for words, feeling an intense hatred for Roy burning up inside him.

"Listen to me, it is not your fault!" he said earnestly, reaching for her. Only then he realized his mistake. They had been here before. She shied away from him, unspeakably annoyed. He had learned from experience that touching her when she was angry or frightened usually only served to make her retreat further – he had a feeling that any act of kindness at that moment was indistinguishable from a kick to the head to her. He had simply forgotten; his first impulse being to offer comfort to her. He was a man who naturally often used physical contact in lieu of words, he was freely expressive with comfort and emotions with people he felt close to.

"Sorry." he mumbled, looking down at the floor.

This was the curtain raiser. Before either of them realized what was happening, Pam had pushed away from the window, looking angrier than Jim had seen her before and then she was yelling, yelling things he wished he hadn't heard, things he wished had never happened, things truly he wanted to kill Roy over.

"He's in my head all the time!" she shouted. Her hair was wild, her eyes blazing brightly. "I have to get out of here. I shouldn't even have come here. Roy will hurt you because of me, I know it! I'm so damn stupid!"

"Pam, wait-"

"I've got to go! Don't you see?! Because of me you're in danger. I don't want him to hurt you, I couldn't-" she broke off.

A loud banging was coming from the front door. She stopped still in the middle of the room, frightened.

"Jim, don't!" she cried as he turned towards the door. "Don't go out there!"

He faced her again, trying hard to keep his calm. "Pam, it's okay. Let me just-"

"No!" She caught hold of his arm, tugging him backwards. As the noise from the front of the house grew, Pam furiously panicked. They could hear loud, forceful shouting outside. Jim studied her a moment, then carefully pressed his free hand on her back in attempt to encourage her into the living room and away from the door. She began to cry helplessly and allowed him to lead her out of the kitchen.

Into the midst of the chaos came loud and harsh cracking and splintering sounds followed by a rush of warm morning air.

"Step away from her, sir!"

Both of them swung around, shocked. Jim looked at the cracked mess of his door, the angry faces of the two police officers. Realisation hit him like a bullet and he quickly stepped back and put his hands up in the air.

"Hey," he grimaced weakly as his arms were wrapped painfully behind him. All too quickly his cheek connected with the opposite wall and two strong hands held him in place. From somewhere else in the hall he heard Pam emotionally pleading with the police, this was Jim's house, he lived here, not him, not him, not him. And eventually they did let go of him, if not rather begrudgingly. He stood rubbing his wrists, words having evaded him.

"Not him" Pam said firmly, stepping up to Jim's side.

She half thought the officers weren't convinced. "Roy, Roy Anderson." She stated clearly.

"We called over an hour ago." Jim complained, not hiding his annoyance. "Thanks for showing up, but the real Roy is out there breaking restraining orders and harassing and threatening her with a free pass. He needs picking up before he decides to come over here for real."

Finally the two officers left, the little use they had been. Pam lifted her head towards Jim anxiously. She watched him clenching his jaw, before dropping his hands to his side and walking into the living room, not looking back.

"I'm sorry."

She had followed him into the room. When he didn't respond, she began to feel her barely contained panic overwhelming her again. Jim was mad at her. He wasn't speaking. He would hate her now. It all came flying out of her, every molecule of hurt she felt. She cried silently behind him, crying for what had happened, for the last two weeks, crying over Roy, crying over her sad pathetic existence. Crying for Jim and the good man that he was.

She reached out to him, catching hold of his wrist and turning it over in her hand.

"Did they hurt you?" she asked, noticing, but not really seeing a tear glide off of her chin and drop neatly into his open palm.

Jim turned to face her. She was a pitiable sight, with large wide eyes that were pleading with him almost desperately, tremors rocking her small body. Thin, much too thin. Tears coursing over fading bruises on her cheek. He frowned slightly, and pulled his wrist out of her ice cold fingers.

What she had yelled a short while ago in the kitchen would haunt him. Harsh truths abut her life with Roy rushed out in her rage, bare and naked and ugly, and his stomach had turned roughly. That man was not fit to live. He felt overwhelming sadness at the life she had lived with him, Pam who was such a kind and decent person, it was beyond reasoning.

"Jim, I'm-" Pam started. Jim lifted his arms up around her, pulling her towards his chest, effectively muffling the rest of her words. He gently rubbed her back, the lightness and fragility of her quivering body awakening a primitive instinct in him, his heart slipping on to the edge of his tongue. He wanted to keep her safe. He wanted to tell her the truth about how he felt. He wanted her to know so badly. Needed her to know.

Pam for her part, simply sobbed into his shoulder, exhausted. "I'm really sorry." she mumbled again. Jim chose not to answer, instead lowering his head helplessly towards the crook of her neck where her soft curls were clumped together.

"Pam." Jim said quietly, so softly she almost didn't hear.

"Mmmm." Pam murmured, turning her head a little, almost brushing his cheek. His head was so close to hers; she could smell the fresh earth and rain scent about him that so comforted her when she took her illicit naps in his bedroom.

"Oh, Pam." Helene's voice jumped in between them, breaking them apart. They both turned round to see her moving across the room to her daughter, her features drawn tight with worry.

"What's happened, honey?" she asked pitifully, taking in the mess of tears, curls and emotional open wounds that had consumed her daughter. William was just a step behind his wife.

"What happened?" William addressed Jim. "The lock is broken on the door. Is she hurt?" he demanded.

Jim thought their entrance at the very moment to be a blessing. And a curse. He pondered on it.

Guess you could take your pick, he thought.

-TO-

"Roy said he was coming here?" William questioned again. He seemed to be having trouble understanding it. Pam was now seated on the couch, next to Helene.

"We called the cops." Jim explained. "They weren't much good." he added ruefully, remembering being pushed up against the wall. He didn't elaborate, a strong part of him not wanting to explain the misunderstanding to Pam's parents.

"I almost wish he would come here, right now." William growled in a low voice.

"Calm down." Helene told him, motioning to Pam.

"Let me call you a locksmith, at least." William said to Jim, wanting to be doing something practical to help – not to mention he certainly didn't want Pam staying in a house without adequate security.

Pam hadn't said much since her parents had arrived, she simply sat down next to her mother on the couch, pale faced and quivering still. Helene was softly studying Jim with a thoughtful expression playing over her features.

He suspected she was thinking about her and her husband walking in anxiously after seeing the door ajar and lock broken; seeing Jim and Pam standing in the middle of the room comforting each other the way they did. Often people misunderstood the friendship he had with Pam. The two of them were close in most ways but one – the obvious, primal way that men and women bond themselves to one another – yet nobody could deny that they did have an unusually close bond between them already, for non sexual partners. It was hard for an outsider to understand their friendship without attributing more sordid elements to satisfy their own curiosity.

Still, he understood what the scene must have looked like to Pam's parents, the same way he understood how things must have sounded between him and Pam to the police outside the house. Fortunately both Helene and William had saved everyone the embarrassment and not brought it up. Yet.

"Come on, son, let's go see if we can't fix up that door a little for today. Make everyone feel a little better all round." William motioned to Jim.

The room was quieter without the men, although only at the other end of the house, in the hall, the absence was noticeable.

"Can I get you a drink?" Helene asked kindly.

Pam was sitting forward with her elbows on her knees and resting her chin on top of her clasped hands, looking about as downcast as Helene had seen her.

"Jim's put up with so much." she said miserably. Helene looked at her questioningly. "I'm scared Roy is going to do something to him, if the police don't arrest him again."

"They will." Helene reached up and caught hold of Pam's hand. "He broke bail."

Pam slouched, shoulders slumped, looking unhappily down at the carpet. "I think I'm outstaying my welcome here. All this craziness. Now this."

Helene smiled at her. A nice, warm motherly smile. "Oh, I really doubt you are wearing out your welcome in this house." she said knowingly, patting Pam's hand.

"If Roy had turned up….. If the police hadn't…." she left it unsaid, remembering her brief but full terror when the officer was so rough with Jim that morning.

"You're very fond of Jim, aren't you?" Helene said, her voice sweet and kind. Pam lifted her head, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"He's been a good friend." she said.

"He certainly has."

They lapsed into silence. Pan leaned her head comfortably against her mother's shoulder, grateful to have her there. Despite her telling her parents not to come, she couldn't deny how touched and relieved she was that they came anyway.

"Would you want to go stay at another place?" Helene asked curiously. "If, say, you really believed you had outstayed your welcome here?"

Pam mused for a moment before answering. "Not really… no… it's nice here and it feels safe. I worry sometimes though."

"That you might be taking too much advantage of Jim's good nature?"

"Something like that, Mom."

"You worry he'll think you've been here too long, and want you to leave?"

"I guess." she rubbed her eyes tiredly. "I don't know, Mom."

Helene smiled sympathetically at Pam. "You know, one day, everything is going to work out for you, Pammy."

Nodding against her Mother's shoulder, Pam said she hoped so too.

"Everything will be okay." Helene enveloped her in a warm hug. "And Pammy?"

"Yeah?"

"About Jim." Helene gently kissed Pam's head.

"Yes?"

Helene laughed. "I'm not worried."