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Pam wasn't consciously thinking of Roy. In fact, she was trying very hard not to think about Roy. Thoughts were weak things though, and the image of him being led out of the courtroom in restraints fell down around her like icy drops of rain.

She didn't dare to believe it.

She wanted so badly to hope that the last year and a half of living and sleeping with one eye open was over. That she would no longer be afraid of waking up in the morning to find Roy sprawled out on the bed beside her, angry snorts of sleeping breath penetrating the room. That everything after the nightmare was the false dream; a trick, manifestation of her desperation. Batting away the ghost of Roy around her once more, she carefully stepped over a jagged looking rock in front of her, wincing at the loud cracking of the fallen branches beneath her feet. It was the part of the day where it wasn't morning, nor was it night. She glanced at Jim just away in front of her as the scenery around them was slowly disappearing into darkness and sped up to slip her arm through his, clinging to the comfort of the well-tempered consistency that he offered her.

It had been Pam's idea for them to take a walk. It had been easy to pick up the subtle hints of despondency in her partner– easy and unsettling. It was almost as though there had been a step backwards in that respect. In many ways Jim was open as a book to her, and he had no problem expressing his feelings towards her and what he didn't talk to her about she usually picked up by osmosis. But there was that hard shell inside of him where he hid things away from her – things that perhaps he thought he shouldn't share with her with everything that had happened, or worse – things he didn't want to share with her because perhaps on a subconscious level he didn't fully trust her.

She felt she was holding up well, much better than she had thought she would. There was an unfamiliar burst of energy following the understanding sinking in that they would not be going back to the courthouse again for any more interrogations or dissections of her life with Roy, and there was only the sentencing left, and even then she wasn't sure if she wanted to go to that. So, feeling a fleeting rush of adrenaline and a heavy urge to be outside in the fresh air, she had suggested Jim take a walk with her. He had agreed at once, but with a distracted tone she wasn't familiar with.

"Hey," she said as they ambled along a dirt path, gently tugging on his arm.

"Hmmm?" he murmured looking ahead, not speaking, not smiling. She squinted at him in the fading light, carefully studying his profile. There had to be a way inside, she thought and wondered how it was that he always managed to get her to open up so easily.

"I can feel a door closing." she said awkwardly, turning her eyes to the floor.

Jim looked uncomfortable. "Uh huh?"

"You're closing a door." she repeated softly. Her words fell like gunshots against the quiet rustling of the trees. Suddenly it all felt wrong.

"Okay, Beesly…" Jim said after a minute. His arm was stiff and rod-like against hers. Glancing up quickly, she noted the signs she already knew well, the back of his neck flushing, his shoulders tight, arms pressed into his sides. She struggled, her teeth gnawing at the inside of her cheek as she weighed up whether to continue or not.

She felt her breathing quicken. "For some reason I feel like I'm on the wrong side of that door. What about you? Do you see it?"

"Uh…" He mumbled, giving no sign that he understood the question, or the significance laid behind it as he ducked under a low branch and carried on walking.

"I don't wanna be on the side where you aren't. Because what good are we if we start looking at each other through windows?" she interrupted, her words rapidly tumbling over each other.

"C'mon Beesly – you know me too well." he complained, stopping to glance at her wearily. Tipping his head backwards his eyes rolled upwards and he sped up again. Pam had to quicken her pace to keep up, tightening her grip on his arm to stop herself from stumbling.

"You're not talking to me." She could hear the pleading in her voice all too well. A hot lump rose in her throat as she turned to look at him again.

Jim pivoted around suddenly, stopping and pulling his arm out of hers. Silently he stood, looking at her introspectively for several moments before gently grabbing her hand. He veered left sharply, tugging her along beside him deeper through a dense row of trees. Right away she recognized the beaten path snaking through the middle as the one they had walked through once before.

Soon he had led them into a small, dimly-lit clearing, and Pam came to a stop behind him as he stood, looking around with a poignant expression that made the lump in her throat positively throb.

"Don't lock me out." she said quietly, wrapping her arms around her stomach. The mounting tension between them was unbearable.

He simply stared ahead of him, silent for so long she started to think that he wasn't going to answer. Just as she opened her mouth again, he spoke up.

"This is hard." His head bowed low and she hovered nervously behind him, half anticipating the possibility of a fight.

She nodded carefully, wanting to reach out and take his hand again. Instead, internally debating what to do, she squeezed her fingers tightly around her own waist. "What are you thinking?"

Jim shrugged. "I dunno. How things could have been different, I guess."

Her heart lurched. A guilty panic rose hot in her stomach at the forlorn tone – one she had rarely heard coming from him. "Do you blame me...?" she uttered hesitantly. "You know… for staying with him for so long. For letting it happen."

"No." he said honestly. Her eyes drifted over his hair down his neck blades, settling on the taught, raised shoulder blades. "No, I don't blame you. Not at all."

"Well… what is it then?"

"It's nothing, Pam."

"Nothing." she repeated dully. The back of his head shook slowly as he fell quiet again and her hand itched to reach out and force him to turn around and face her. There was silence between them for what felt like a good few minutes. Jim was still standing in front of her and wondering if maybe a fight would be better than the tension currently stretching out like a tightrope from him to her, she stepped forward. She was about to reach up and gently rub his shoulder, wanting to try to work some of the obvious stiffness out of it when he spoke again.

"Did you really love him?"

The silence that followed his question was deep – and filled with unspoken questions. She was surprised, caught off guard. In some way she suddenly felt as though she had had her face slapped. Her mind scrambled.

"I..I I mean…" she stuttered chaotically. She tensed as she stood there in his shadow, at a complete loss for words. Of all the things she had suspected that were bothering Jim, this was a complete shot from the dark. "I think.. I-" she snapped her mouth shut hard, the sharp edges of her teeth catching her tongue. Seconds later a sickly, metallic flavor trickled back towards her throat.

"Jim.." her voice came out hoarse and uneven, like her vocal chords were exhausted. "Jim…. What good is this going to do?"

"Did you?" he repeated, more insistently.

"At the beginning." she said quietly, raising her arms as if to shield herself. "I stopped loving him years ago. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I dunno." he mumbled offhandedly, more to himself than her. "I just don't understand how, how he could do all those things to you. Whether he loved you or not or you loved him. When I look at you…I can't see myself ever wanting to lay a hand on you. All I want to do is make you happy."

"You do."

"I don't understand how he could do it." he continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Not to you."

Unconsciously Pam's eyes closed. "I'm sorry." she whispered around the lump in her throat. She didn't know what to say or do to make things better. Questioning Roy's motivations was pointless, there wasn't any value in hindsight now. There were multiple reasons why Roy was what he was and did what he did and trying to pinpoint one as the sole reason would only be futile and never ending. She wanted to move on.

"When you-" he turned to her then, and to her surprise his eyes were suspiciously bright and shiny. "Talked about what he did to you that night, I wanted to…." a long sigh escaped him and he looked away from her again. "Shit. When I think about what it must have been like in that relationship for you, all alone with that… that… thing."

"It doesn't matter now." she said tonelessly.

"Of course it matters! I want to see him go down for life. I want him put away forever. I wanna see him suffer for every single time he hurt you. He should suffer and be miserable and be – "

"–I know." she cut in. "But honestly, Jim? What good will it do, really? I don't wanna be bitter about this anymore– it is what it is. It's happened. We need to move on – together."

"The judge doesn't know the whole story." he pointed out, a resentful edge to his voice. "They don't know all of what he did to you."

As quick as lightning her body jerked as if struck with a cattle prod, and her chin jolted upwards, staring up at him with wide, wounded eyes. "Jim…" she tucked her hands into her sleeves, her eyes filling with tears. "Don't…please."

"Pam-" Startled into moving towards her, he reached out his arms to pull her against himself.

"Don't" she waved his hand away from her with a gentleness that did not match her emotions. Taking a deep breath she fought to stop the tears that wanted to fall. "Don't ask me to do that. Please." her voice cracked.

He looked at her for a long moment, as if he saw the differences in her since the trial, the fear, the shame of what had happened to her. Even including her therapist, Jim was still the one person who knew the most about her life with Roy. His eyes were dark underneath and shadowy, and she knew everything had taking its toll on him too.

"He's in jail." she said in a choked tone. "That's where he's going to stay. That's what I wanted."

Jim looked away guiltily. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." he said, his hard expression softening. "I just hate him so much."

"I know." she nodded slowly.

"And I think about that and how he hurt you so badly you can't even talk about it, not all of it."

"Doesn't matter." she said listlessly.

Jim reached out again, this time succeeding in picking up her hand and stepped closer. "You're shaking." he observed. Her fingers felt like ice chips in his larger ones. Then he was looking at her directly into her eyes as if to be sure he had her attention.

"You know I'd never do anything like that, right?"

"God, I know that." she reassured him. Her head tilted as she looked back at him earnestly and sniffed. "Don't do that to yourself."

Holding on to her gaze, and her hand he spoke softer then. "I won't ever let anything happen to you."

"I know." she repeated again. "Thank you." Seconds later, she flinched noticeably at the wooshing sound of something fleeing past them through the grass. Something scurried up a nearby tree, a squirrel or raccoon or some other wildlife. Her eyes lowered with shame.

"Sometimes I get scared." Jim said in a voice just above a whisper. "That you'll never be able to be with me. Not all the way. Because some part of you is always frightened I might turn around and hit you one day.. or worse."

Pam shook her head and frowned. "No. I want to be with you. That's the difference. I want to. All the way. I told you, I feel safe with you. And I was-"

"– Look, you and I – I never once doubted my feelings about it. But you.. I love you, I really, really do. I put myself on the line, because I love you so much. And I don't know… if you didn't.. maybe you only needed…." he trailed off, eyes falling to the ground.

"You think I'm confused. That you were there at the right time because I was vulnerable." she stated faintly.

She felt no anger at his admission, instead only a wealth of sympathy for him, suddenly seeing this secret fear he had been carrying around.

"Oh.. Jim. Don't you get it?" she replied breathlessly. "Don't you understand?"

"I'd understand if –"

Pam moved quickly, drawing her hand away from his and pressing her fingers to his lips. "Shut it, Halpert." she let go, stepping back with agitation. "You don't understand. At all."

"I just thought that if you loved Roy then–"

"For god's sake. Listen to me!" she broke in, The tears were coming now, and she did not bother to stop them. "It's you." she cried, spinning round at him. "For gods sake, it's you! I was already in love with you, don't you get that?"

The stunned look on Jim's face as he stepped back from her tore at her – a million emotions were radiating from him and somewhere in all of it she could see a flicker of hurt and confusion.

"Roy was right, okay? He was right." she went on. "I did love you back then. He knew it even before I did. I used to go to bed at night feeling so hopeless, waiting for Roy to come up… and I'd think of you and how much fun we always had together and how connected we are and I'd not feel so alone." She wiped at her eyes, her breath hitching.

"Okay so maybe I was worried in the beginning when we first kissed at the museum that I was confused because I was so mixed up and needy… and it's taken me a long time to admit this but that's not what this is about." her eyes flared. "I was already in love with you, dammit, even when I was with Roy. I was just so stupid and messed up and I didn't know!" she cried.

"I've been mixed up about a lot of things. I know that. But the only thing I'm sure of…. is you." she began to sob. "I'm stupid… okay, just stupid. Look. I don't know what the future looks like from here. I can't promise a happy ending for us. But I do know that I want you in my future. I want to work hard at it. I want to be happy with you. Or is that not enough?"

She looked at him then, silvery tear tracks on his cheeks glinting in the half light. He stared back at her, his eyes bright, his cheeks pink and flushed.

"I've felt so…so bad for such a long time. I used to think I'd never feel better. Then you'd come in with your crazy pranks and you'd make me laugh and laugh and just for those moments it was like things were okay, would be okay. And now, for the first time in forever, I feel really hopeful."

She came to a stop and sniffed again, rubbing at her face with her palms. When she looked back up she saw that Jim was looking at her with the oddest expression.

"Are you.. are you smiling?" she asked wondrously.

He didn't respond, but his lips grew bigger and his arms spread open wide towards her.

The relief she felt was overwhelming, and brushing multiple tears off her cheeks once more, she started towards him. Reaching up she folded her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his. Seconds later his arms intertwined around her back and he crushed her close into his chest.

"Don't doubt me, don't ever doubt me." she cried into his shoulder.

Jim tilted his head back. "I love you, you goofball."

Their lips were almost touching as she repeated his words back to him. She felt so good in his arms, nothing else mattered at that moment. She wished they never had to break apart – then Jim drew away from her, catching her hand again and gently tugging her in the direction that they had come in.

"C'mon Beesly." he said. "There's somewhere we need to go."

…... TO...

"And again!" Jim called out, holding the heavy bag tight against him. "Hard as you can."

Pam caught his eye, brushed the sweat off her forehead with a gloved hand and swung forcefully with as much strength as she could muster at the cylindrical bag.

"Woooo…" Jim enthused. "Really whack it, go on."

Raising her first again, she punched, right, left, right, left, hard, harder, right, right, faster and faster. She kept swinging, smashing her fists into the synthetic leather. She lost count of the hits, lost awareness of the room around her, of Jim holding the bag, of the men working out a ways behind them, of everything but the motions of swing and hit. She saw Roy, leaning over her in the middle of the night, she saw him pushing her to the floor, felt his vicious hands squeezing her throat, felt the anger pouring out through her veins, through her fists as she punched and punched. Right, left, right right, until her arm began to ache, then throb, then positively burn with resistance and she began to lose steam.

Breathlessly she stepped back, panting and rubbed at her forehead again.

"Alright Beesly!" Jim cheered, raising his own gloved palm. She immediately hi-fived him in the air and doubled over, catching her breath.

"How did it feel?" he said, with an amused smile.

"Pretty damn good." she choked out.

"You know Beesly, I think you're gonna sleep pretty good tonight."

Hands on her knees, she looked up at him. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I was thinking," he said casually, rubbing her back. "That I should get a new bed."

"A new bed?"

"A bigger bed." he clarified.

She straightened up, her breathing slowing down and looked at him curiously.

"Yeah, see I have this really messy house guest I can't get rid of, but she's kinda cute so - "

"Watch it Halpert." she smirked at him.

"- I figure if she wants to stay I should minimize the probabilities of waking up with an elbow in the face or a knee in the… worse places…."

"It is pretty small." she laughed.

"So maybe she would like to help me choose a new one."

She thought about it earnestly for a moment, looking at him with a continued smirk. "Maybe she should help. You know, your taste is kinda…."

It was Jim's turn to smirk. "Yeah, yeah Beesly. Right."

"Almost like a new start, right?" she said seriously.

Jim nodded in agreement. "It's a start."

"You know… I've never really felt like I've had a home before. After my parents, I mean." she said quietly. "I always wanted to live in France though, or the mountains or somewhere sunny and I can paint."

"And, ideally I'd be there with you." Jim said, raising his eyebrows.

"You'd be happy living in the mountains?"

"Of course." he replied. "Home is wherever you are, Beesly."

He was obviously thrilled to see the way her eyes widened and lit at his words, the huge smile she was unable to stop from spreading across her face. Putting a gloved hand on his shoulder she leaned up and tilted her neck, kissing him on the cheek.

"Here." she said, turning and catching hold of the punch bag. Pushing it carefully to him and holding it steady she gave him a meaningful look. "Your turn, Halpert. Let's see what you got."

And Jim slowly smiled at her, stepping back into place. He thought of their conversation earlier. Roy on the stand, Pam curled up in the hotel bathroom shaking with tears. He thought about Roy, blaming everything on Pam in court. He thought about all of this, and as she held the bag steady, he pulled his arm back and swung with all his might.


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