Jim woke up feeling out of place. He was awake enough to know he was lying on his couch...but Pam was there. He ran his fingers through her mousy brown hair as she slept on top of him, her head snuggled into his chest.
He looked at the clock on his cable box -- 1:27. He took in a deep breath as Pam stirred a bit in her sleep and put her hand on his hip. It was so amazing to see her standing on his doorstep earlier in the night, begging him to come back in. Despite the urgency in her plea, though, he never got past second base. It didn't matter to him considering it was second base with Pam. It just felt weird and not at the same time.
Jim's mind flashed to Cindy Hewson, his first girlfriend in college. On their second date, he invited her back to his dorm room -- so suave, he thought, quietly smiling at himself. But having Cindy stay in his room for the first time that night was so new, so illicit. He didn't live with his parents and could have a girl spend the night in his room. What a revelation! And here was Pam, the girl who was always a step away, always just out of his grasp, and she was here. In his house. Sleeping on him on his couch.
And yet, it was Pam. For as much as he never expected to be spending his night like this, for as shocking as it was, it just seemed so natural. She was his Pam and he knew it was going to somehow end up this way. This was the woman he always loved, the woman he someday expected to marry.
The woman who was a pain in his neck.
Jim tried shifting his body a bit, but it didn't help. He silently cursed at himself for buying the damn thing without lying down on it first. He was over six feet tall, he knew better than to buy a couch without the Midday Nap Test, but he needed something cheap when he moved back to town and bought it on impulse.
With a bit of strategic maneuvering -- an arm here, a slip of his leg there -- he was able to extricate himself from Pam and leave her on the couch without waking her. He knelled down next to her, brushing some hair out of her face. He couldn't remember the last time she looked so at peace and he hoped he looked the same after their talk that night.
His neck was feeling much better, but he realized he had another problem -- what to do with a still-sleeping Pam. He debated whether to leave her there to sleep or move her somewhere else before finally muttering "Screw it."
He put one arm behind her neck and the other under her legs and scooped her into his arms. She was definitely much lighter than he expected as he carried her down the hall to his bedroom. He laid her down on his side of the bed since it was closer to the bathroom in case she woke up in the middle of the night. He took off her shoes and socks and contemplated taking off her jeans before stopping himself. He thought they looked uncomfortable to sleep in, but he was worried sleeping next to her in the same bed without her conscious consent was already pushing it a bit.
Jim slid in next to her on the other side, making sure he didn't take any covers from her. As he let his head sink into his pillow, he looked over at Pam lying quietly next to him. She was the last thing he saw that night and despite the fact that he was sharing his bed with someone else, he slept better than he had in a year.
x x x
The sun was filtering in through Jim's crappy bedroom blinds that were installed by the landlord. He once again made a mental note to replace them with something better.
He rolled over to realize Pam wasn't in bed with him anymore. Shit. His mind started reeling. What happened last night? They made out like two teenagers in a parked car, they fell asleep on the couch, and then he carried her in here. He had debated with himself last night about whether that was a good idea. Guess not, he thought, as he tried to roll over and ignore the fact that things were all messed up again. Maybe he could dream this whole thing away.
Then he heard the microwave beep in the kitchen and someone opening its door.
Jim quickly threw on a pair of jeans from the floor before heading out of his bedroom. He nearly tripped on Pam's shoes on his way out and wondered why he left them in the middle of the room last night.
Pam was sitting at his kitchen table with her back to him with his Sunday Times scattered across the table. When he moved back to Scranton, he got a subscription to make him believe he was growing up, but this was probably the first time the Times was actually being read in his apartment.
"Anything interesting?" Jim asked, startling Pam a bit.
"Well, first of all, you have tea, but no sugar."
Jim smiled as he opened the fridge. "Who needs that when you have orange juice?" he said, grabbing the carton. "Want some?"
Pam smiled. "I'll stick with my unsweetened tea."
Jim walked over to the table and slid himself into the seat across from Pam, taking a swig of juice straight from the carton in the process. He got a look a scorn from Pam in return.
"What if I wanted to drink that orange juice after all?"
Jim grinned. "I would have put yours in a glass."
"Oh thanks," Pam told him sarcastically before looking down at the paper again.
"What are you reading?"
"The Vows section," Pam explained, receiving a look of surprise from Jim. "I always like to read about these pretentious people. Like do you really deserve to be in the Vows section because some random ancestor was on the Mayflower? Oh, but there are plenty of Cornell grads so Andy would be perfect for this."
"Yes, but he would have to find a girl and brain wash her into marrying him." He smiled over at Pam and as she smiled back, Jim thought he could get used to spending his Sunday mornings like this.
Pam went back to reading as Jim dug through the sections strewn on the table while taking another swig of juice from the container.
"Hey, I forgot to tell you," Pam said. "The Arts section had a preview story about a William Blake exhibit at the Met. It sounded pretty cool. Would you be interested in heading to the city one weekend to see it?"
Jim looked up and smiled. "Yeah, that would be fun." He loved the fact that Pam's face lit up from his response. "You know, we should make a whole weekend of it. Drive up on a Saturday morning, stay at a hotel that night, maybe grab dinner, and then head back the next day."
"I would really like that," Pam said, reaching out to grab Jim's hand from across the table.
She tucked her head back into the paper, looking a little embarrassed about what she had just done, but she didn't let go. Jim decided he would do the same.
Chapter End Notes:
Ok, this is the end, my beautiful friends. Took me long enough to get to it.
sharky is the author of 26 other stories.
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