For what seemed like months she's tossed and turned, her sleep incredibly fitful.  

In many ways having him back was worse than not having him at all.

xoxoxo

Streamers were draped across every surface, an arch of balloons framed the conference room door.  Pam couldn't tell what it was they were celebrating but as usual - it hardly mattered.

She felt like she'd lost something - like her keys or an earring.  Something important.  Something she'd miss if she failed to find it again.

The sound of laughter startled her.  She looked over and saw that they were laughing, together. 

Karen was sitting on the edge of the desk - Jim was smiling up at her -  both of them laughing.

It almost seemed like they were laughing at her.

A tear slipped from her eye and Pam brushed a hand against her cheek, her fingers coming in contact with something felt-like.  She turned around, caught her reflection in the glass of the conference room.  She wore a cat mask, leopard print, the nylon whiskers brushed against her cheeks.   

Halloween? 

It would make sense but somehow she didn't think so.  No one else seemed to be in costume.   Music blared in the background, an electric keyboard competed with the sound of steel drums.  Kelly and Ryan sat at Stanley's desk, sharing a margarita, sipping from two bendable straws. 

Karen laughed again, the sound piercing Pam's eardrums.  It's almost as if Dwight had sounded the air horn he kept in his bottom desk drawer.  Pam held one hand to her ear as she rummaged through her purse searching for whatever it was she couldn't find - becoming more desperate by the minute.   She couldn't catch her breath, her chest tightened, blood rushed to her brain as she looked up, and then stood frozen in place.  All she could do was watch.

Jim was now kneeling next to his chair.  Karen smiled at him, clapping her hands together as he presented her with a small velvet box.  

It was too much to bear.  Pam summoned all her strength and finally opened her mouth. 

To her horror, all that came out was a sound very much like a meow.

"He can't hear you."  Angela sighed and rolled her eyes. 

Jim reached into the box and pulled out what looked like an enamel pin.  He reached up and fastened it to the lapel of Karen's suit.

"Happy Anniversary."  Pam heard him whisper.  "Days like these need to be commemorated."

Jim's voice sounded so odd, his choice of words so unlike him.  It was clear now what he presented to Karen was not a ring - yet it seemed to Pam like that fact was completely irrelevant.  It might as well have been a four-carat diamond, when you factored in Karen's reaction.

Jim turned towards Pam but his face held no trace of affection.  He was smiling still - but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Meeeeeeeeeowwwwwwww."  Pam looked at Angela desperately.  What the hell was going on? 

"Cat got your tongue, Pam?"  Michael snorted as he walked past, wearing a grass skirt and carrying a tray filled with Cinnabons.

"Meow!"  Pam snapped back, her hands flying to her throat when she heard the sound of her voice again.   She couldn't understand why it was the only sound she could make.

"Please Pam.  Watch your mouth."  Angela pulled Pam by the elbow, bringing her closer to where Jim and Karen were wrapped in an embrace.   "Go ahead.  Try again.  Start at the beginning."

Pam turned to face Angela, her voice rising in pitch with each mewl she made.

"No.  Not like that.  Stop screaming.  Ladies should speak in dulcet tones.  If you do he will hear you." Angela replied.  "He can't now because you're simply not saying it right."

Pam blinked at the realization that Angela seemed to understand what she was saying when no one else could. 

She shook her head and tried again, her voice still a garble of purrs and whimpers.  Angela's mouth formed a thin line as her eyes bore into her own.

"The wicked flee when no man pursueth: but the righteous are bold as a lion."  Angela continued as she released Pam's arm and walked back towards her own desk. She stopped briefly and gave her a final disapproving glare.

"All could have been avoided if you'd just taken my token of appreciation. This is what happens when you don't accept a gift freely given.  Haven't you learned that yet?" 

With that, Angela turned her heel, leaving Pam feeling more alone than ever.

The dream was one of those that stayed with her, creeping in during waking hours, coming back to haunt her each night. 

She walked towards her car, the night air chilling her skin and she shivered, pulling her sleeves over her hands to warm them.

To her surprise Jim stood a few yards away - and for once - was blessedly alone.  His back was turned, his shoulders hunched a bit.  

Pam pushed back the rising fear and spurred herself onward, one simple phrase repeating over and over in her mind. 

It's time.

She moved quietly, not wanting to startle him.  Her hand reached up and curled around his arm urging him to face her.

And when she finally opened her mouth, the look on his face let her know that he'd understood every word.

Sleep comes more easily now and her dreams are sweet for the most part.

But everyone once and a while a nightmare will sneak through.

xoxoxo

"Someone might walk in."  Pam said with a sigh as his hands snaked up under the hem of her skirt.

"So?"  Jim chuckled against her neck. 

"So."  She shifted on the desk, causing his pencil cup to overturn.  "How would you explain this?"

He leaned back and twisted his lips into a grin.  "Depends on who's walking in on us."

She raised an eyebrow at him.  "Oh really?"

"Yes."  Jim leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers again.  "Stanley would completely ignore us..."

"True."  Pam laughed back at him.

"Kevin would microwave popcorn."

She shivered.  "Eww."

"C'mon.  You know he would..."  He gave her a wink.  "Let's see... Phyllis would turn around and lock the door behind her.  Angela would pray for our souls and call you a whore under her breath.   Kelly would alert the media.  And Michael..."

Pam reached up and put a finger to his lips, tracing the line of them gently.  "Jim.  Really.  Are you trying to put me in the mood or get me out of it?"

"I thought you were way tougher than this Beesly.  I mean...I haven't even gotten to Dwight yet."  He dipped his head, buried his nose in her hair as he planted soft kisses just below her ear.  "He'd sit on the edge of the desk with a spiral notebook and document every minute."

Pam pulled back sharply.  "OK.  Stop.  That's so...just..."

Jim grinned.  "But true."  His hands began to wander once again immediately distracting her.

"Yeah."  She whispered.  "True."

His arm reached out to sweep the contents of his pencil cup onto the floor. Jim picked up a day at a glance calendar, the date ripped to April 25, 2007.  "Oh.  See.  Here's the perfect explanation.  We're celebrating Administrative Assistant's Appreciation Day."

"At least it's not the anniversary of the Nevada Test Site."  Pam shook her head at him. "Sorry to break it to you but I'm not your Administrative Assistant." 

"No.  But I appreciate you."  Jim replied as he set out to show her just how much.

Always accommodating and willing to "assist," Pam reclined further, her elbow coming into contact with Dwight's collection of bobble heads. 

"Nice, Pam.  Great distraction tactic."  Jim laughed as his fingers made quick work of unfastening the buttons of her blouse.  "He'd totally put down the notebook to save his dolls..."

"That's me.  Always thinking strategically.  Dwight's no match for me."  Pam promised as her fingers slid through his hair, tugging his lips back to hers. 

"Something you've proven time and time again."  Jim laughed against her mouth.

There was a rattle and a soft thump but both Jim and Pam are far too occupied to pay close attention.  The sound intensifies until reluctantly Pam turns her head and looks over towards Dwight's desk.

"Jim."  She gasped as his fingers grazed her knee, sliding up along her inner thigh.

"Mmm.  Oh yeah.  I know..." He replied.  "I'm getting there, believe me."

"No.  JIM."  Pam smacked his arm and tried to get him to focus.

He lifted his head and followed her gaze.  What seemed like hundreds of Dwight bobble head dolls had animated and were marching ever so slowly towards them.

"Holy shit!"  Jim stood and took her hand in his.

"We've got to get out of here."  Pam's voice shook with fear.

"Pam. Stay calm.   They're just dolls."

"Dolls that have multiplied and look like they're going to attack us..." Pam squeezed his hand tightly.  "They're like zombies."

"Don't zombies have to be alive initially?"  Jim commented, his voice calm and even as they made their way to the door.

"Are we really seriously discussing this?"  Pam asked as she scrambled to catch up with him.  "Let's just get the hell out of here!"

"Maybe I should just talk to him...them...whatever they are..."  Jim's face was set in a serious frown as he eased away from her.

"Talk to them?   Are you crazy?  No Jim.  Don't go."  Pam protested as she tried to grab his hand again.  

The dolls kept advancing, growing taller with each wobbly "step" they took. Undeterred, he looked around for a weapon and grabbed the coat tree.   Wielding it like a lance he moved towards the sea of Dwights, their eyes glowing a furious red in the dim light of the office.   Jim had no chance though.  They were relentless; their heads clanking in unison as they effectively knocked Jim to the ground.  Pam watched in horror as he stumbled and fell, the dolls heads wobbling furiously as they trampled him.

"No.  Pam!!!"  Jim's voice was muffled by the melee.  "Forget about me.   Just save yourself!"

"JIM...NO!!!  JIM!!!"

xoxoxo

Pam sat up, her heart pounding.  She was panicked, disoriented and pretty much terrified all at once.  Suddenly she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Hey.  Hey.  Pam.  Wake up."

She turned to see that Jim had not been trampled to death, but was safe in bed beside her.  He gazed at her with eyes full of love and concern.   Sighing with relief, she buried her head in his chest.

"Shh."  He leaned close and pressed his lips against her forehead, then trailed down to brush them against her closed eyelids.   "Shhh.  Pam.  It's OK."

"It's not OK."   She blinked against the dim light of the bedroom.  "You were...being...trampled b-b-by...Dwight."

"Ohhkay."  Jim chuckled and pulled her close, his hand rubbing a circle over her back.  "Shh.  Pam.  I'm right here." 

"It was really creepy."  She took a deep breath, a sense of calm setting in.  "We were celebrating and all of the sudden - I-it was that bobble head doll.  It started to like multiply...and attack you..."

"OK.  Shh..."

"It's probably payback for that time we held it for ransom..."

"Guilty conscience Pam?"

She gave a shaky laugh.  "Probably."

"So.  Where...was this...exactly?"  Jim asked.

"In the office.   We were on your desk."

His eyes caught hers and held.  "On my desk?"

"Yeah."  Pam nodded.

"What were we doing on my desk?"

She smiled guiltily and he could see it, even though there was little light in the room.   "Jim."

He reached up and tucked a curl behind her ear, his hand lingering to rest on her cheek.  Her breathing had slowed but he simply took that as a challenge. 

Jim was quite confident he could get her heart racing again in short order. 

"Hmm."  He murmured as he leaned close and brushed his mouth across hers.  "Interesting.  You know what?  I think in order to get you through this we need a sort of reenactment."

"I don't want to go through that again.  You know how I feel about zombies.  It was so creepy, Jim."  Pam protested, albeit weakly.

"Geez Beesly.  Why couldn't you dream about me getting attacked by Sandra Bullock instead?"

"Jim."  Her gaze and her voice held a warning.

He laughed again and moved in closer, his hands quickly driving her to distraction again.  "OK.  Now.  Show me exactly what was happening." 

"Well."  Pam sighed and shifted closer.   "It was April 25th, Administrative Assistants Appreciation Day and you were..."

"Appreciative?"  He asked as his fingers trailed higher.

"You could..."  His hand found its mark and she bucked against him.  "Oh yes...ummm...say that."

"What next?" 

"What?"  She shook her head, her eyes unfocused.  

"Never mind."  Jim smiled against her skin as his mouth drifted down the slope of her shoulder.   "I think I've figured out how it went."

"Yeah...you're um...pretty close..."  Pam giggled as she shifted her knees to allow him better access.  She gasped again as his tongue traced the curve of her breast.

"You know.  I'm not convinced I'm not still dreaming..."  She said softly as she tugged gently at his hair, making him meet her eyes.

"Well - if you are...so am I."   Jim whispered back.

"Mmmmm.   That's my favorite kind of dream."  Pam smiled as his lips kissed a trail back to hers. 

"Mine too, Pam."  He laughed, glad that he was finally able to be the one to make her smile like that.  "Mine too."