Jim stared blankly out the windshield of his car. Reality rained down like a gallon of ice water as he passed the sign proclaiming Scranton Welcomes You! No two ways about it, he needed to talk to David. He already would have, if he and Pam weren’t vacationing in the Poconos all weekend. This wasn't a conversation that could take place anywhere but in person.

For the dozenth time, he reminded himself of the gun in his trunk, hoping as always the use of force wouldn't be necessary. At least he knew what he'd do if push came to shove, because violence had been called for and he hadn't hesitated. Still, he didn’t dare to move the weapon from the secret compartment into the body of the car. Jim was nothing if not cautious. What if a taillight or turn signal randomly went out? The risk wasn't worthwhile in a country where possession of a firearm was a one-way ticket to execution… possibly torture along the way.

Jim felt soft fingers brush his on the gearshift. He smiled in spite of his train of thought, taking his eyes off the road for the briefest moment to glance at the precious cargo in his passenger seat. He reassured himself that, if his worst fears materialized, he could simply keep driving, ready the weapon, and circle back. What's more, nobody could have entered their apartment without his knowledge. The price to install a security system on such short notice, while considerable, was nothing compared to the peace of mind it conferred.

"I can't wait to go back," said Pam, breaking his reverie, looking far more relaxed than he felt. "Do you think skiing will be as fun as ski-doos?"

"Are you kidding? Nothing could be more fun than jet-skiing with you," Jim replied. The precise opposite of a thrill-seeker, he'd initially been wary. After the stressful week that preceded their mini-vacation, he truly hadn't expected Pam to be up for much outside the hotel room. They'd run back to their room afterward, driven into each other's arms by adrenaline and the chill of the water in equal measures. The experience–indeed, the entire weekend–had been truly unforgettable.

"Maybe not," she giggled impishly.

I can't wait to be back at work, Jim mused as the office building caught the corner of his eye. That quickly, he was preoccupied with worry once again.

Pam came back to Earth with a reluctant sigh as Jim drove past the office. She was decidedly not looking forward to work tomorrow. Their problems had seemed so remote from the distance of their hotel room. Reality loomed ever closer as they approached the apartment complex. Now that they were nearly home, every thought she'd avoided thinking… every fear she'd avoided feeling for the past two days. They all came rushing in at once, crushing her beneath their collective weight. She clutched Jim's forearm, overwhelmed in an instant, unable to still the trembling of her fingers. The corners of her mouth twitched down in a series of convulsive frowns. A wild, terrified sob escaped her. She didn’t know what to do.

Braking, he pulled onto the shoulder. "I know," Jim murmured, wrapping his arms around her.

"I'm scared,” Pam wept against his neck. “I can't." Can't do it, can't lose you, I CAN'T.

"I know," he repeated, not sure what else to say. He didn't want to say she had to, even though there was really no choice. Nor could he tell Pam not to be scared, because she had every right to be. Frankly, Jim was equally as terrified. He just had more practice at tamping down his emotions.

"What if he's waiting to… waiting for us?" She squeezed tightly. "What do we do?"

"I'll keep us safe. I won't let anything happen," he promised. He had a responsibility, here.

She sniffled plaintively. "How?"

"I have a plan. I'm going to drive past the parking lot first. We'll make sure his car isn't there. Then we'll drive by the front door and make sure nobody's outside." Jim didn't mention the weaponry. "And nobody will be," he said with more confidence than he felt.

Nodding, Pam choked back a sob and tried to be brave.

Once the coast was clear, they grabbed their luggage and jogged through the parking lot, in the front door.

Pam knew nobody could possibly be inside, because they hadn't gotten any calls from the security company and she'd watched Jim input the code to disarm the alarm system. Still, she refused to let go of his hand. A woman on a mission, she personally checked every corner of every room, opened all the closets, inspected each window, and looked under every piece of furniture with a gap large enough to conceal a person. Only then did she collapse into his arms, weak with relief.

Jim held her tightly, his chest aching with emotion. She'd been so carefree all weekend. The contrast was heartbreaking. Silently cursing Will, he schooled his voice with difficulty. "We're safe, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder. Pam knew she was being ridiculous, but she didn't know if she'd ever feel safe again.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he reassured her.

She stuck like cling wrap while they watched a movie on the couch. When he went into the kitchen to make dinner, she moved to the dining room table with her charcoal pencil and sketchpad. When he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, she screamed his name.

Coming fully awake, Jim flipped on the light and grabbed the hidden weapon in the towel closet. "Are you okay?" he shouted, racing down the hall, thumbing off the safety, fearing the worst.

Hearing Jim’s heavy footfalls and the panic in his voice, Pam clicked on the lamp and sat up, dashing away her tears. "Bad dream. Sorry." She’d had a nightmare that Jim was gone. Then she'd awakened to find him literally gone, and her barely-conscious lizard brain freaked out. She'd been terrified all afternoon that her father would succeed at ripping them apart at last.

Jim's fear gave way to relief in an instant. The adrenaline would take longer to subside, he knew. He re-engaged the safety and set the gun on the nightstand before collapsing onto the edge of the bed. "Not your fault," he mumbled weakly, head in hands.

"But, still…" she trailed off, wringing her hands. He shushed her and moved under the blanket, gathering her close. She sniffled against his chest. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, angel. One day at a time," he intoned. Before long, Pam relaxed against him and fell peacefully back to sleep.

Jim turned off the lamp and avoided looking at the clock, preferring to avoid knowing exactly how many hours of sleep he was forsaking.

–

"I need to see you," Jim said without preamble in a low, urgent tone. Both Dwight's and Pam's seats were empty. Nearly lunchtime on Monday, this was the first chance he'd had to call David. Will hadn't been waiting outside their apartment last night, nor this morning. No letters were in the mailbox, he hadn't tried to call. But Jim couldn't shake the ever-present feeling of dread every time he recalled the events of the week before.

More importantly, Pam was not okay.

"Pam's father used to be an ally," Jim went on, glancing at her chair. She’d return from her morning break before long. "William Beesly. We don't feel safe. We're not safe. He punched me in the stomach on Memorial Day. He threatened to kill me. He drugged her on Wednesday. He was… he was going to kidnap her. To his parents’ place in Florida."

Help me, he begged silently. Help US.

David was silent for a beat. "Anything since?"

"No, we just got married Friday. We were in the Poconos all weekend."

"Come over for dinner tonight," David suggested immediately. It wasn't a question.

"Thank you," Jim breathed gratefully.

"Will it be just you, or the two of you?"

Not that he'd had a chance to run it by Pam, but… "Both of us." Jim couldn't leave her alone until this mess was sorted out. He didn't want to. Anyway, she wouldn't let him. "She doesn't know the marriage assignment wasn't a coincidence."

"Anything else I should know?"

"She wouldn't agree to have him… eliminated." As much as Jim might secretly want that, it was out of the question.

"Of course. What precautions have you taken?"

There was no of course about it. Jim was well-aware of David's penchant for pragmatism when it came to problem-solving. "I told him not to contact us again. I have weapons, a security system." He didn't know if all that was enough, but there wasn't any more he could reasonably do. Will knew where they lived, where they worked. There simply wasn't a way to protect them while coming and going. There was no limit to the things the man had access to, not if he could get his hands on scopolamine and ecstasy. Jim's mind whirled with thoughts of car bombs, remote explosives, shadowy hitmen, poisoned blow darts… okay, so maybe he was being a little overly ridiculous.

Maybe.

"Who does he work for?" David asked, breaking his reverie.

"He's working alone. It's a personal… I don't know, vendetta. Because I recruited her."

"I mean, who is his employer?"

Oh, whoops. "I'm not sure. Pam would know."

"Find out and call me back. Dinner's at seven."

"I will. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. See you then."

Jim hung up, relieved, as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. While writing a post-it note, he noticed a cameraman wandering toward the bullpen. He stuck it in the middle of a stack of blank papers, made a trip to the shredder, and wrote another after the coast was clear.

With a discreet nod, Pam dropped the missive into the shredder.

Jim waited for her to head out the door at noon. A couple minutes later, he followed. She was waiting in the driver's seat of her car. He got into his own and left the parking lot, watching his rearview mirror. She followed.

Jim carried his lunch bag to a picnic table at a nearby park. A few cameramen were patrolling, distant enough to disregard. Sometimes the best places to hide were right out in the open. In spite of the circumstances, he enjoyed the warmth of the sunshine on his face. "I called David. He invited us to dinner tonight, at his house."

Surprised, Pam took a seat beside him. "On a work night? Where does he live?"

"Paramus, New Jersey. It's a little under two hours each way." He gave her an apologetic look, unwrapping the ham sandwich she'd packed for him. "I'm really sorry for the short notice. I'll drive. I just… didn't think it could wait." He stared into the distance. "I told him what happened last week, I just… I had to. I'm sorry," he said, sounding as lost as he felt.

Pam opened her yogurt with an understanding nod. "I don't mind," she said softly, trusting Jim's judgment. They could use all the help they could get. "What do you think he'll say?"

He smiled, just a little. "I don't have a clue. I'm in way over my head here," he admitted honestly.

"That makes two of us," she agreed, glancing at the ring he'd given her on Friday. "I trust you," she said emphatically.

"Thanks, Beesly," he murmured, brushing his lips against her temple.

She smiled and stroked his cheek, glad he was still calling her that.

"Just a heads-up… if he asks you anything, tell the truth."

Pam nodded agreeably. That wouldn't be a problem at all. David was a nice guy.

–

Pam was more than a little surprised when Phyllis sidled up to the front desk. Now that she’d taken on the task of delivering phone messages throughout the day, nobody other than Jim ever came up for jellybeans and a chat. She only kept buying them to give him a plausible pretext for spending time at reception.

“Nice rock,” said Phyllis, eyeing Pam's wedding ring, not even trying to hide her thirst for details. “You got your marriage assignment this year?”

Pam merely nodded.

“Looks like you made a good impression on him.”

“You could say we made an impression on each other,” Pam replied with a casual shrug, knowing Jim was listening. She avoided looking in his direction, preferring not to give anything away.

"Nice car, too," Phyllis said, leaning on the counter with a conspiratorial glint in her eye, inviting confidence. "You two must be getting along pretty well. Who's the lucky guy?"

Pam knew better than to trust her. Thankfully, the phone rang. “I've gotta take this," she demurred, lifting the handset. Disappointed, Phyllis turned and walked away.

"Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam."

"So sorry, I must have dialed the wrong extension."

Thank holy god, it was Jim. Raising a mischievous eyebrow, he hung up his handset. Pam smiled with gratitude and carried on a conversation with the air until Phyllis's phone rang. Hanging up, she mouthed I love you in his direction.

–

"We're probably not going to be able to hide it forever," Jim said as he started the engine after work. Unsure of Pam’s feelings on the topic, he proceeded with caution.

"Yeah, about that…" she said thoughtfully, covering his hand on the shifter before he could put the car into gear. They'd made a brief trip to their apartment, to drop off her car. “I was planning to give you this at dinner tonight, but…"

Looking down shyly, she pulled a small box from her pocket. "I figured… you'd rather have it um, now." She blushed madly as he took it, making haste to explain herself. "I know you said people don't really do the whole wedding ring thing anymore, but I um, really liked mine so…" She cleared her throat nervously. "Surprise?"

Jim exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He murmured her name in a low voice, brushing the velvet of the box. When had Pam found time to buy him a ring? They'd hardly spent a minute apart the entire weekend. Unless she'd snuck out at some point while he was napping. Given the number of times they'd made love in the hotel room, that was definitely a possibility.

"And I um, I don't mind… if they find out. If you don't, I mean?" She twisted her hands together. "Like, I submitted my name change paperwork to Toby… today, you know, so I think I'm going to get a new nameplate in a couple days–"

Tenderly, Jim grasped her jaw in his free hand and turned her to face him. "Pam," he barely phonated.

"I just didn't want Phyllis to be the first to, you know. Know," she prattled anxiously, avoiding eye contact. "Because, well, she'd probably tell like, everyone before we even got a chance–"

He leaned over the center console and kissed her as though his life depended on it. He supposed maybe it did. "I love you," he breathed reverently. "And I don't care who knows it." He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, frankly. Not that they could get up to the roof of the office. The access door was always locked, but it was the principle of the thing. He looked down at the box, overwhelmed by the gesture. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Open it!" she said excitedly.

Jim didn't hesitate. Like Pam's ring, it was silver. Unlike hers, the band was plain. An inscription was engraved around the inside. He slipped it onto his finger. It fit perfectly, leaving him to wonder if Pam had secretly measured his finger, the way he'd done before buying hers.

"I hope it isn't… um, lame," she confessed shyly.

Jim enfolded her in his arms. "It's perfect," he sighed into her hair. They were the best possible words she could have said, phrased in the best possible way. "You're perfect. The best wife ever." In that moment, the years he'd practiced keeping his emotions in check failed him utterly.