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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for all the nice reviews. I am struggling with writing again, especially now work is full time again, but I really want to finish this story. Please bear with me, and sorry that it might now be as thought out as it was in this chapter, it's a little hard to keep my head in that world these days as much as I would like to.

Jim followed the spicy aroma of cooking chilli up the stairs to the second floor. There was a chill in the small hallway and his footsteps echoed eerily around him. He found Pam's door easily, out of the two apartments on the second floor hers was unlikely to be the one with men sized combat boots tipped over on the doormat.

She'd opened the door with a shy smile, looking pretty and fresh in a simple loose sweater and jeans. He had been surprised when she'd invited him over. He hadn't expected that, she'd been kind of tense earlier when he tried to playfully flirt with her like he used to, even brushing him off a little. Still, she had asked him sincerely enough if he wanted to come over for dinner.

"Alright, Beesly." he said, sitting on her couch and taking the glass she offered him. "You got everything you need here? Kitchen, Bathroom? Place to sleep?"

"Even got a working toilet." she joked half-heartedly.

"Just one? You got screwed Beesly."

She nodded again, sitting down beside him. She crossed her legs. "Definitely."

"You like it here?"

"Yeah." she said shrilly, sounding as though the room was filling with helium. She cleared her throat self consciously. "I mean.. yeah… no…. I'm getting used to it." Using her hand to brush down the front of her sweater, she let out a small sigh.

Jim put his drink down on the table. "Didn't get much sleep last night, huh?" he said, leaning back against the couch. Pam looked away from him sheepishly.

"Not too much, no." she answered after a pause, shifting her gaze forward.

"Old ghosts?"

She twisted her hands together absently. "Yeah, I guess."

"You know," Jim leaned forward again. "If you're having a bad night, like before, you can call me, you know know that right?"

She coughed, putting a hand up to her mouth. "Yeah… it's not that bad… I mean, it's okay, really I just….." she shook her head, lapsing into silence.

Jim inhaled a slow breath, looking at her observantly. Things were off kilter tonight; there was a tension in the air between them that hadn't been there before. She had closed herself off again, her face impassive and her response to conversation was flat and lifeless. His brow furrowed as his eyes wandered to her fingers, tightly interlocked, twisting tautly against her stomach.

"Hey." he said, reaching out to her. Gently he rubbed her forearm up and down in a gesture he hoped would be comforting; but to his surprise she simply got up, mumbling she needed to check on the food and escaped to the kitchen without another word.

Jim slumped back into the headrest on the couch dispiritedly, rubbing his hands against his jeans, trying to understand what could have happened between Monday night and then – they had been fine and happy – well, as happy as possible under the circumstances on Monday. And yet tonight he felt like he was with another person. He pondered if he should follow her to the kitchen or not.

"You need any help out there?" he said as she entered back in to the room, ending his inner debate. She sat down in the lone armchair a little way away from the couch where Jim was sitting, watching her with confusion.

It had been a difficult week for her he reasoned. She'd moved homes, returned to work and then there was Monday night. There were bound to be bumps in the road, he told himself, wanting to believe it.

"It's almost ready." she said quietly, not looking at him. Jim simply nodded in response. The shift in rapport between them made him squirm, stoking inner flames of doubt he had tried hard to extinguish – fears that she would reject him again, push him away. He didn't think he could handle it a second knock back from her. He would lose her, he knew that as surely as he knew his own name.

"I know we didn't get a chance to catch up today." Jim tried again.

"No." Pam responded, with a hint of accusation in her tone. "How was your sales call with Dwight?"

Jim almost laughed momentarily, remembering Dwight and his pitch earlier – it had struck him as the most bizarre thing that they should actually make a good sales team – but there it was, wonders never cease.

"Yes," he grinned a little. Hoping to raise a smile he continued. "We got the sale. Dwight's got this stupid thing though about sitting in the back seat when he's not driving. It was weird, like I was his chauffeur or something."

"Tough day." she remarked. Jim's grin dropped at the flat edge to her voice.

"Yeah." he said tonelessly.

"Long day." she pointed out. "Long pitch."

"Had to go see Toby this afternoon." he said, looking uncomfortable. Pam hummed a little, staring at the floor.

Jim stopped speaking; baffled by her behavior. He was completely at a loss.

"Pam?" he finally asked. "Is something wrong? Do you want me to leave?"

Pam was startled into reaction; her head lifted up to face him, her mouth hanging slightly pen. "Oh… I'm sorry, Jim. I'm really tired, that's all. I didn't mean… no, I don't want you to go. Dinner's almost done." she said, her cheeks burning.

"Sure everything's okay?" he replied, eyebrows raising.

"Yeah, fine." she responded breathily. Jim stared at her thoughtfully, his mouth twitching. He decided against pursuing it further, noting her pale skin and heavy, dark eyes. He wanted so badly for them to have an enjoyable night but that forecast was looking kind of cloudy if the start was anything to go by.

"So… you finished clearing your house out?" he asked, looking around the little room. Truthfully he thought the place was kind of gloomy. It lacked many of the usual personal touches that signaled that someone lived there, that someone enjoyed living there. No photos, no books, not even a sketchpad in sight.

Pam followed his gaze absently. "Yeah. Gave the keys over last week. Got a lot of stuff in storage." she added quickly, reading his expression.

Jim turned back to her. "What did you do with all of Roy's things?"

"Boxed them up and took them to his moms house."

"I bet that was fun." he replied, wincing at the pained look she gave him in return.

"Yeah." she exhaled. "She was not happy, not at all."

"At Roy?"

"At me."

Jim was surprised. "I thought Roy and his mom didn't get along?"

"They don't. But that doesn't mean she believes me over him. Besides, it was either her or another storage fee each month."

"She didn't have much to say in court." Jim remembered.

Pam smiled dryly. "She had plenty to say at her house. Kind of blew up, actually. Her and my dad sort of got into it."

Jim's eyes went to her neck, where he imagined he saw faint traces of fingermarks there, a lingering memento in his memory. He winced involuntarily.

"Just wish he was out my life for good, you know?" she said in a soft voice. Jim nodded at her, catching the wistful expression on her face. He knew instantly what she was thinking. Before he could offer her any comfort though, she'd pushed herself up out of the chair and vanished in to the kitchen for the second time that night.

-TO-

Jim suspected she'd left the room to get her emotions under control. It was a maddeningly familiar ground for him, her pretending things were okay, her crying behind doors. In some ways it felt like the Pam she was when she was with Roy – all the old habits and emotional cues were the same.

When she finally emerged from the kitchen she was somewhat brighter, and apologized for being rude and leaving him in the living room by himself. Then she showed him to the small table she had set in the area between the kitchen and living room.

The meal she had made re awoke Jim's appetite and reminded him he had skipped lunch earlier. He ate with obvious enjoyment, happily refreshing his memory of how good her cooking was and inciting the first genuine smile out of her that day.

"Guess there's hope for me yet." she said wryly, putting her hand over her mouth.

"I've missed your chili." he said, shoveling another forkful into his mouth. "I could eat this every meal and never get sick of it. And I missed lunch today." he added by way of excuse for his table manners.

"I noticed." she commented, putting down her fork and pushing her plate away. She just couldn't eat as much as she used to.

"Jim." she said softly, her face blushing a little. He looked up at her, his smile faltering. Despite the brief respite during dinner, the tension between them remained. She looked nervous. She looked scared, he realized, his stomach sinking.

She took a deep breath. "We haven't really set any rules between us… I know I said what I said Monday night but I was wondering…" she turned away from him a little so he couldn't see her face.

"Yeah?" he said cautiously.

"Umm… about.. us… are we….. you know, just us? Or… other women…" she mumbled, eyes downcast.

Jim squinted at her for a second, before dropping his shoulders in realization. Hurt coiled in his stomach before he pushed it away.

"Other women? Is this about Karen?"

Not missing the guilty flash in her eyes, he knew he was right. He mentally kicked himself hard for not anticipating this; he should have expected it, should have talked to her about it before she got the wrong idea.

"Just…. She's really into you." she said, holding back emotion. "And this afternoon… the bathroom-"

"Hey." Jim cut her off quickly, grabbing her hand from under the table and lifting it up, grateful she didn't resist. "Is that what's been bothering you?"

Pam looked away again, her hair falling over her face. "I just thought that… you know… she really likes you a lot. And Andy said that-"

"Andy is a moron. Andy is the guy that calls me Big Tuna every time he sees me because he thinks it's funny, only no one else does. He doesn't know anything, you gotta believe me."

"I know." she looked at him apologetically. "I just.. saw you coming out of the bathroom earlier. I don't know why it got to me but it did. I'm so stupid."

Jim shook his head fervently. "No, you're not. I'm sorry. I should have said something to you about this earlier. Karen is nothing, except a huge pain who can't take no when she hears it. I did not ask her to come into the bathroom with me."

"I'm sorry. I just didn't know what to think. The way she talks about you… You knew she liked you?"

"I did – no – Pam, that's what I went to see Toby about." he stressed.

"Oh."

"I would never do that to you, you know that right?"

"I just thought…." she trailed off, feeling utterly foolish.

"Roy." Jim grumbled.

"Roy." Pam sighed.

Jim squeezed her hand tight. "We need to lay down some lines between us, Beesly."

Pam smiled and squeezed back. "I'd like that."

-TO-

Pam felt better after they cleared the air between them. She also felt significantly worse – embarrassed at herself for having to ask Jim, ask where she felt she had no right to ask. A naked vulnerability stirred in her at her reaction to the reality of Karen having a crush on Jim. She had been hurt a little, a little possessive and.. worried. Worried, selfishly she was coming to see how she did need Jim, how exposed that made her feel, how scared. She couldn't deny her feelings once she had accepted them – that night in the gallery opened up all the feelings for him she had been harboring inside in denial, in fear. Jim was a good man, too good for her really. Karen on the face of it seemed much more on his level, intellectually and otherwise.

But Michael, in a rare moment of clarity had also helped her straighten things out in her mind. She certainly didn't know if she had it in her to fight for Jim if she had to. She thought she might. But now she knew how ridiculous she was. She could handle Karen. Jim had handled her. He had told her no and meant it. He had spoken to Toby and told him everything. Karen was being moved over near the annex with Kelly. Pam actually smiled at the thought of that.

They cleared the table together, making small, pleasant conversation interspersed with their usual joking around. Jim raved on again about how good the dinner was.

Pam laughed. "I'm sending you home with the rest of it. Someone needs to make sure you aren't just eating Alfredo's or taco's every night."

Jim was happily cheered up, having a much firmer -much more positive - idea of where they were headed. Baby steps, but positive ones, he knew. The dinner plates stacked in the sink, Pam wiped down the table while laughing at Jim's retelling of the pitch he and Dwight had given earlier. She'd been right on the money about Jim pranking Dwight, of course. Yet it had paid off, literally. They got the sale.

Jim came out of the kitchen, putting a soft hand on her back as he navigated his way past her in the small confines of the apartment. Pam flinched involuntarily at the contact and glanced quickly at Jim, a little embarrassed. She moved across the room, picking up their empty wine glasses somewhat distractedly, trying not to acknowledge that it had happened.

"Pam." Jim said quietly from behind her.

He was still standing then, when she turned around, his arms stretched out wide to her.

"Come here." he encouraged in a soft voice. Pam considered him hesitantly for a moment before moving towards him nervously.

"Trust me." Jim said as she came close. Carefully he reached out and took her by her shoulders, calmly bringing her against his chest. Almost immediately she stiffened, her limbs tightening and becoming rigid. Jim circled his arms around her, holding her close to him.

"Now, relax." he told her, using a low, gentle tone of voice. At first, she only leaned into him without reaction. Jim began to think he'd made a mistake, then after a few moments thin arms intertwined around his back, coming to rest on his sweatshirt.

"Breathe." he instructed kindly, tightening his grip around her a little. Pam felt a little flicker of happiness, he was so warm, so comforting. She didn't feel entirely safe – not yet, anyway – but she felt more secure with him than anyone else, this she knew. Closing her eyes, she let her cheek fall on to his shoulder.

"Feels pretty good, huh?" he said, running his hand over the back of her head, feeling the soft curls shifting beneath his fingers.

"I've missed your hugs." she told him, her voice muffled in his shoulder. A wide range of emotions were coursing through her. This was so different to Roy. This felt good. Although things had changed now, they both knew, he was no longer hugging her in the spirit of supportive friendliness, but now as something more, something intimate, something that meant a lot more. As a partner. As someone who truly cared. This was where their relationship was going and she felt perfectly happy with that. She stayed, wrapped up in his embrace, soaking up his warmth.

"Pam," Jim said as they sat down on the couch, side by side. "There will always be a place for you right here." Jim patted his shoulder. "No strings. Whenever you want it, whenever you need it."

Pam looked at him with a furrowed forehead and drew her eyes in. Jim laughed and motioned to his shoulder again. Realization dawning on her, she smiled at him and leaned over, gently pressing her cheek down into the comfortable groove between his chest and shoulder. A strong arm slid up and wrapped around her own shoulders. A soft kiss was pressed into her hair. Feeling almost perfectly safe, and almost perfectly happy she let her eyes close.

Things were on the right path, she knew. There would be hurdles and stumbles in the future but she felt at that moment she could handle that. The night had ended better than she'd expected, almost perfectly.

As for her, she felt one could say she was almost perfectly in love.


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