Pam got the call the next day just as she was finishing a meagre lunch with ten minutes left on her break. Jim was already done, of course, and the two of them had been sitting in comfortable quiet together; not quite ignoring the others who came in and out of the room but not actively engaging with them either. No sooner had she picked up her cell he saw her face sag into fear, then her fingers automatically began to trace circles around the table. He knew instinctively, with the keen awareness of two people who knew each other like well worn books, that the assertive, confident woman of the night before would be forced into retreat once again. Speaking in quiet monosyllables she kept her eyes focused on the table in front of her. Privy only to her side of the conversation he plucked out snippets of information from both her sagging body language and her simple responses.

"What's happening?" he questioned as soon as she lowered the hand gripping the phone.

Pam looked towards the kitchen, and then stood up. "Lawyer."

Jim waited a minute, thinking she would explain what had been said on the call. But she didn't – she simply gathered the remains of her uneaten food and turned to the trash can.

"Okay?" he asked.

Once lunch was dumped, she walked towards the door and through to her desk, Jim shadowing her closely. The woman dug around in her purse and thumped herself down in her chair with fatigue. Above her, the light blinked once, twice drawing miniscule fragments of darkness across her face that only served to exaggerate the growing black of her mood.

"It's definitely going ahead." she finally spoke.

"What else did she say? What about testifying?" Jim rested his arms heavily on the hard edge of the reception desk and leaned towards her.

Pam hesitated. "Um… I don't actually have to testify at all. But… it would be a significant bonus for the defense if I didn't. But the case is going forward." She dropped her cell phone on to her desk, slumping her shoulders.

"So we, uh, we have a few weeks to prepare."

In silence she picked up the cell phone again, dumping it unceremoniously into her purse, shoving the bag under the desk out of sight. "I don't even want to think about it."

"You've done this already, remember. This is the end stretch now. There's nothing more after this." Jim said, reaching out to rub her forearm. Pam was in no mood for comfort – she was clearly well past fed up and she calmly pulled her wrist back, dropping it to her lap.

"This is different. This is criminal court, Jim. With a jury." she huffed in annoyance. "All these strangers have to hear everything – all of it – and then these strangers get to decide whether I'm telling the truth or not. It's not fair, Jim. It's not."

"None of this has been fair." Jim picked up on her frustration, moving round the desk to her. "Hey…. You can do this. We can do this." he said kindly, bending down beside her.

"You can't get up on the stand for me. You can't protect me from this, okay?" Her face twisted, her eyebrows drawing inward. "I can't do it." she sighed, in a quieter tone.

"If I could, I would do if for you. You know that."

"It gets worse." Pam hitched a breath, her eyes burning. "The defense-" she spat. "Want to call my Mom. As a witness. For him."

Jim recoiled in disgust at that. He laid a hand over hers and forced himself to speak calmly. "What?"

"Something about character – because he told them how much my mom and dad cared for him." she said. "That my mom has to admit under oath she never saw anything wrong – it's going to kill her."

"That is just- just cruel!" he shook his head emphatically.

"You think?" she said with anger. "This is Roy, all the way, he knows how to hit me –" she broke off, realizing the implications of her words. "– where it hurts."

"Hey-" Jim said placatingly, seeing how worked up she was becoming. "Listen, I'll come to you tonight and bring you dinner for a change. Get the afternoon out of the way first and we'll figure it out tonight."

She shook her head, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "No… I think… I just wanna be on my own tonight. I just… I'm sorry." she said.

Jim's eyebrows quirked up. "Pam…I don't know if that's a good idea. Come on, don't close yourself off."

"I'm not. There's just nothing you can do to help. Please, Jim. It never ends – it will never be over. I need some quiet time." Pushing her chair forward and away from Jim, she paused, looking over her shoulder to him. "Corporate wants this time sheet done on Michael. I should get back to work."

Jim stared at her moment before standing. "At least call your Mom tonight, talk to her." He folded his arms. She turned back to her work.

"I really need to do these for Corporate." Pam snatched up her pen, signalling the end of the conversation.

Jim huffed a little. "I can-"

A guttural, pinched clearing of a throat interrupted them. "Sorry to interrupt this little lovers quarrel. But when you're over it, Pam I need eight copies of this as soon as you can."

Jim whistled inwardly. "Oooh. As many as eight, huh?"

Karen fixed him with a scathing look and turned back towards the annexe. Pam picked up the paperwork resignedly.

"Hey, leave those for now. Or even I'll do them for you."

"Better not." she grumbled. "She'll probably think you're proposing marriage or something if you do it."

"About tonight-"

"Forget it." she said shortly. "I told you… I need some time alone."

Jim went back to his own desk dejectedly, confused and concerned. The night before had been almost perfect, they were connecting in all the ways that mattered. He found himself struggling with the feelings this brought up in him – anger, at Roy, frustration with the situation. Impatient for it to be over, as was Pam. He sighed heavily, swallowing down his frustration hard.

"You know what I found this morning?" Dwight said smugly, staring up at the ceiling. "Schematics. Amateur schematics of this office. Stowed away behind the copier. You think those flickering lights are a coincidence – false. It's them. They are up there planning a coup over us."

"What?" Jim replied, distracted. "Oh – oh, right, yes. Utica. Yes."

"Act normal, Jim." Dwight demanded. He lowered his voice. "There are a hundred ways to catch prey. A hunter stalks his prey until the hunter becomes the hunted. Then the prey becomes the predator. Then the predator and the hunter fight."

And, with a machiavellian grin, Dwight meaningfully lifted a serious looking blowtorch into the air.

"Oh, man." Jim said, leaning back in his chair.

-TO-

The sound of the phone yanked him out of sleep as effectively as a continuing series of nudges to the ribs. In the darkness he slowly sat up, a sudden chill falling over him like a cup of ice water. The ring continued persistently as his fumbling fingers scrabbled to locate the phone in the bleary-eyed blackness and he moved with frustration, finally snatching it up roughly, as though it had personally offended him. He looked at the screen, his eyes widening, cold sweat laying on his skin.

"Hey, is everything alright?" he answered urgently. She was breathing heavily. He could hear a tapping in the background, otherwise there was a bleak silence. "Pam?"

"I'm sorry for waking you." She cleared her throat. "I, uh… I…"

Jim blinked, his eyelids heavy. "Pam – you okay?"

"Um.. I'm not.. I think.. I just didn't know what to do, I'm sorry-"

"Wait- what is it?"

"I saw Kenny outside. He's outside."

"Outside?" His voice sounded hoarse. "What's he doing? You called the cops, right?"

Sliding out of bed, Jim switched on the light. The sudden bright stung his eyes. Somewhere outside, something was hooting softly in the dark. "Pam? You did call the cops?"

"Yes." she said shakily. "I did. They aren't here yet and it's really late and…."

Jim snatched up a pair of jeans from the floor. Switching the phone to speaker and placing it on the bed, he wrestled them on. "Has he tried to get in?"

"I...don't know. I don't think so."

"Don't answer the door to anyone. Stay put, okay?

"Jim – he's outside. He was just standing out there. Like he's waiting or something. What if he tries to get in the building or-"

"Stay calm. Keep talking to me until I get there." Plucking up his keys and heading out, Jim let the door slam behind him. "What's that – is that the police?"

He heard a scuffling noise, as though she was moving around. "No… it's a truck gone by."

"Can you still see him? How close is he?" Jim asked, shutting the car door and starting the engine. He reversed quickly, forgetting the seat belt.

"No… I think he's by the trees. I can't see - it's really dark out there!"

"Pam-"

"I'm… I'm scared, Jim.I mean, what does he want? Why can't they leave me alone?"

"Okay, okay," he said, responding to the panic in her voice. "I'm on my way. Let me know if the police get there. Keep talking to me."

"I can't think – why aren't they here yet?"

"Okay." Jim said, his face tightening. "I'm on the road. Listen to me, okay? Where are you?"

"In the living room."

"Is everything locked? Double checked?"

He heard a shaky sigh. The tapping sound was back, only magnified. "Yeah."

"Stay in the living room. Don't change rooms. Wait for me, or the cops. Listen to me, okay? I want you to think about something."

"Mmmm." she mumbled.

"Remember the night we sat on the roof – listening to my iPod, eating grilled cheese. Michael Scarn, Catherine Zeta."

"Yeah I do."

"Picture it - Picture that night. Remember Michael's play?"

"Yeah, poor Dwigt."

"You think that really was our first date? If you have to get absolutely technical?" Jim suggested, carefully watching the road.

There was a silence, he assumed she was thinking. "Um.. I think it might have been."

"Candles. Grilled cheese, fireworks. Music and dinner. Remember you said no one had made you dinner in a long time. You know, that was a nice time up there. Remember how dark it was - we could see out over all the lights and everything. Like-"

"Gods."

"Like Gods," Jim chuckled softly, watching out for the turn. He was almost there. "Just think about it. We could go up there again, like a second date. I'll bring the grilled cheese."

"It was a really nice night." she murmured, sounding less shaken. "A good idea."

"Yes. And now some really good news- I'm here. Buzz me in, okay? But don't come downstairs."

"Thank God –Jim- please be careful. And hurry. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Jim parked up, looking out into the darkness. Stepping out of the car, he eyed the area carefully. For a moment considered going ahead and poking around the trees to see if he could spot Kenny out there, but one glance up at the small illuminated window of the front of Pam's apartment reminded him, Kenny could wait- he couldn't leave her alone up there any longer.

- TO-

The door to her apartment was already creaking open as he climbed the final flight of stairs. She stood like a silhouette in the doorway, tucking her hands inside her sleeves.

"You okay?" Jim said, raising his eyebrows.

The only answer she had was a slight nod and then she moved towards him. Sliding her arms around his neck in sheer relief, she buried her face into his shoulder and felt the comfort of his familiar embrace pressing her against his chest. He cradled her head and for a horrifying moment Roy flashed into her mind. Roy had never held her like that – Roy's hugs were sharp, elbowy and fierce, often leaving her with dull blooms of pain throughout her ribs. Jim's chest was warm, welcoming, and although it also left her feeling a good deal vulnerable, with her weakness on full display – her need - she thought Jim's arms made it all worthwhile.

Pam froze as her apartment buzzed from inside the door. Jim walked her inside and she answered the intercom.

"Police, miss."

Pam looked at Jim with relief, and buzzed them in.