“Hey,” he says, his voice low and gravely. He grabs hold of her hand and pulls her close, embracing her in his masculine arms. She giggles and it seeps through him stopping just below where his belt sits.

He tilts her head up and kisses her sweetly, his hand going around her waist, landing on the small of her back. She pulls back slowly, aware of the people staring, forgetting that, yes, they are in public. “Damn…” she thinks to herself.

“So, what are you going to get?” They find their table and sit down on opposite sides. They’re at a fancy restaurant named something she can’t quite remember right now because of the blush running up her neck as he reaches for her hand.

“Um, well the tuna steak sounds good, I guess,” she reads off the decorative menu.

He laughs, “You’re going to cost me a fortune, Beesley!” She kicks him under the table with a smile and shyly goes back to reading the menu.

            After a couple games of footsie and more wine than they should’ve had, he drives her home. She smiles to herself the whole way because of the warm, big hand resting on her knee. She grabs it and tangles it with hers. No radio, just the windows down, driving along the bright highway. They sneak a look at each other at certain instances, containing love and desire.

            The car reaches her apartment building and they just sit there, searching each other’s faces for a hint or a ‘go ahead’, both of their minds racing. He reaches his hand up to rest on her cheek, and she slides her eyes closed, glad he made the first move. She feels him coming closer, his breath on her face. Their lips touch and it’s everything that she’s secretly been waiting for.

            With her hands on his back, under his shirt, her pressed against the car window, him practically on top of her, and his hands places she once would have been embarrassed of, he breaks this passionate kiss.

            “Pam,” he barely makes out. The tone of his voice is too much for her and she pushes him off of her, turns around and opens the car door and gives him a look so as if he should definitely follow. He does what he’s told through her powerful green eyes and follows her to the apartment entrance…

            She wakes up to the soft, smooth lips she absolutely adores against her neck. “Jimmmm,” she draws out.

            “Hmm?” he rumbles that tone that makes her crazy.

            “It’s not like I was sleeping or anything,” she complains, but turns toward him and lifts her chin to give him better access.

            “Shh. You’re just so damn,” he nibbles her ear lobe, “beautiful… I can’t resist you, Pamela Beesley.”

            She snakes her arms around his neck and pulls his head down so she can kiss him. This is mostly how the last night went after their dinner. After Jim had picked her up in his strong, amazing arms that hold her now, he took her up to her apartment and just spent the night kissing and learning each other’s most sensitive spots. (Jim was most ticklish behind his ears. Pam, her elbows.) They kissed in the living room, they kissed on the counter in the kitchen, they kissed on the floor of the laundry room, they kissed in the empty bathtub in her tiny bathroom, and they finally ended up in her bed. Pam knew that Jim just wanted her clothes off, and she loved the way he respected her.

            “Jim, I don’t want to ruin this yet. I want it to last as long as we can make it,” she had said. He still teased her with his lingering touch, but didn’t even dare go as far as her belly button.

            The memories of last night break as he kisses her in his favorite spots, “I love your lips. I love your eyes. I love your neck. I love your shoulders,” his trail of kisses slowly going lower and lower, “And your collarbone, your chest, and your stomach.”

            “Jim, I want you. I love you. I need you,” she squirmed. He pushes up the hem of her shirt just to reveal her taut midsection. He rubbed his stubbled cheek along her smooth skin and felt the quick intake of her breath. He glances up to see her expression, her reaction, but only sees desire. Grinning to himself he runs his hands back up her stomach, pushing her shirt even higher. He loves teasing her like this.

She looks down at the hand holding hers as they walk, wondering how they ever got this far. Smiling, touching, kissing… PDA. She almost laughs at herself for thinking that. Glancing up at him she notices he’s been looking at their hands too. She stops walking and stands on her tip-toes to place a kiss on his lips. They just stand there, smiling at each other like eleven year olds with their first crush. Pam notices an older lady looking at them out of the corner of her eye with a smirk on her face. She blushes, and the two of them keep walking. He smoothes his thumb lightly over her knuckles, and she feels goose bumps running up her arm. They don’t talk, just enjoy the presence of each other and walk silently side-by-side. “I love him,” Pam thinks. She wonders what he’s thinking…

*****

            They walk past some clothing stores and every shirt or dress he sees he thinks would look gorgeous on her. Well, of course everything looks good on her. She’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on. He leans over and kisses her head, breathes in the scent of her shampoo. That smell drives him crazy. Pam squeezes his hand lightly in return. He wonders how they ever got this far. Love, he thinks.

            Jim remembers back to the times when she was still with Roy, small and fragile, and now she’s this strong, vibrant woman. He’d always had dreams of being with her, touching her, kissing her, but none of those dreams ever lived up to this. The real thing. Jim pushes the old memories away and thinks about now. He has her, and he’ll never let go. He wonders if she still thinks about Roy, regrets the fact that she broke it off. That thought just makes him upset so he shoos it away, leading her into a small shop with a beautiful dress in the front.

            “Jim? Where are we going?” Pam giggles. He replies with no answer, just a smile.

*****

He stops in front of the dress inside the store and points at it.

            “I want you to try that on.” He looks down at her.

            “Why?” her still giggling.

            “Because. C’mon Pam, I’ll try on something too,” Jim pleads.

            “Fine,” she sighs, “but I get to pick out what you’re trying on!”

            Jim looks around the store and notices that it’s one of those up-and-coming designer stores that he’s read about in some of Pam’s magazines he reads when he gets bored (which is quite rare around Pam Beesly).

            “Tada!” she holds out a ridiculous pink floral shirt, and he shakes his head in amusement.

            “How is this fair? You’re going to look absolutely stunning in that dress and I have to try on that?” they both laughed. Jim asked a worker to find Pam’s size in the dress and his in the shirt. He grabbed a pair of shoes that he thought would look nice with the dress, hoping they would fit.

            They both went back to the dressing rooms and the store worker handed them their clothes. Pam held the dress up to her figure.

            “Jim. I really don’t think I’ll fit in this!” she whined, “And the blue will make me look pale.”

            “Shut up and just try on the dress, Beesly.” Jim joked.

            A couple minutes he heard her voice over the dressing room wall.

            “Ready?”

            “Mhm.” He replies, “Three, two, one, out.”

            Jim’s heart literally skips a couple beats at the sight of her. She pulled her hair up off her back and the dress fits perfectly. She starts laughing when she sees the shirt on him, all the flowers and pinkness making him look kind of… well, gay. But still nice, she thinks. It shows off his arm muscles and some of his chest.

            “And you Jim, you look… homosexual!” they both laugh, “But still sexy.”

Once again, she’s sitting there at Poor Richards, bored as hell with him and his dumbass friends, watching them down beer like M&M’s and make complete idiots of themselves in their drunken state. As always, it’s as if she’s not even there. Pam takes another sip of her wine thinking that it’s not fair how she always has to be the sober one to watch over them like a fucking babysitter. She looks at her cell phone for the millionth time and sighs. 11:11. ‘Make a wish, Beesly,’ she thinks to herself.

“Baby, you ready to go?” Well maybe the mythical 11:11 does work…

“Yeah.” She gathers her purse as he takes a last gulp to intake the remaining beer and high-fives his friends goodbye. As they walk out the door, she feels his arm naturally fall across her waist and she just pushes it off. He tries to reach for her but she keeps walking, annoyed.

“Stop it.”

“Whassa matter, baby?” he slurs.

“I’m not in any kind of mood tonight, okay?”  They’re at her car now and as she reaches down to unlock the car, he spins her around and traps her between the two. His lips fly to her neck, his hands holding her hips.

“I said stop!” Now Pam’s just getting pissed off and tries to push him off of her, but to no success.

“I love it when you get—“ He actually has to stop and think about what he was going to say next, “all aggressive like this, baby.”

“Oh my god…” she rolls her eyes. One of his hands leaves her hips and strays down to the bottom hem of her skirt.

“Baby, I—“

“Quit calling me baby, and GET your hand OFF my skirt!” She manages to shove him away from her and climbs in the driver’s seat, shutting the door quickly behind her. He throws his hands into the air in drunkenly defeat and staggers to the other side of the car. Once he falls into the passenger’s seat, the radio is turned on and he twists the knob to volume forty-six. Pam shakes her head, thanking the lord that she is finally capable of tuning him out. She just concentrates on the road to get home safely so she could finally get some sleep.

Pam pulls up to their driveway, cuts the engine and gets out immediately so he doesn’t have another chance to trap her. She walks into their living room and drops her coat and purse on the couch, ignoring the blinking ‘three new messages’ on their answering machine. Wandering into their bedroom, she bends over, balancing herself with one hand on the bed, to take off her shoes, when she feels two hands grasp her waist.

“Seriously! I said stop it!” By this point, he had her on her back on their full size bed, him hovering over her. Pam attempts to get up, but he stops her by covering her tiny frame with his. He leans down to envelope her lips with his, his hands snaking up to pull off her shirt. She starts to cry, he doesn’t care. Oh my God, how is this happening ? Pam tries, again, to shove him off of her, but she doesn’t stand a chance against his weight advantage and his drunkness. He reaches down to unzip her skirt, pulling it down, down, down past her knees, down past her feet, down, falling to the floor. She’s still crying and right as Roy reaches to unzip his own pants, she wakes up.

Pam feels tears on her cheeks, but when she opens her eyes, the sight in front of her is immediately comforting. Jim is sound asleep with a couple of locks of hair falling across his forehead. His eyelashes look so damn long resting against his cheek… Her eyes scan the rest of his body, long, strong arms curled against his masculine chest, shoulders broad and sturdy, snoring just loud enough to be heard. Watching him sleep always takes her breath away. Pam brushes the hair out of his face and he stirs for a second, opening his eyes and smiles suddenly.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He says, his voice low and soft from sleep. Jim sits up and leans on his elbow, smiling down at his girlfriend. She returns his smile, pushes herself up to his height and kisses him softly on the lips. Pam turns to get out of bed but he gently catches her wrist.

“Hey, you’re not getting away that easily!” Jim teases, his eyebrows dancing. She giggles and snuggles up against him. His lips find hers and it’s nothing too much, it’s just right. He wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer. She runs her tongue lightly across his bottom lip and she feels the moan in his chest against hers as their lips part. His hands leave her back and reach around to tickle her stomach. Pam laughs against his mouth and squirms against his frame. He tickles her sides and she has to break their kiss to drop her head back and laugh out loud. Her hands end up tickling him back and after about ten minutes of their tickle fight, they call a truce. She pulls back and looks into his bright green, wonderful eyes.

“I love you.” Pam says, still laughing and smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. “Excuse me?” He looks completely stunned, his face blank. Her own expression falters a bit. It was the first time she had said it... Was it too much? Was it too soon?

“I… love you. Is that too—“ A huge grin breaks across Jim’s face as he cuts her thought off with his amazing lips. She finds it amazing how just the way his arm naturally falling across her waist feels so perfect, so right. This is it, he’s it. He’s the one…

It’s 2AM and they’re dancing on every surface of their apartment, the music blasting, probably waking up their neighbors, but they don’t care. They’re both a little drunk from their Friday night out at Poor Richard’s after a long day of dealing with Michael and his child-like passion for Christmastime.

“Can’t explain all the feelings that you’re making me feel!” Jim and Pam belt out in unison. They each have a hairbrush in hand, only in their underwear and sunglasses, feeling a bit like Tom Cruise. “My heart’s in over-drive, and you’re behind the steering wheel!”

How can she not smile at times like these? She has everything that she could possibly ask for. She’s not Boring Old Beesly anymore. She’s independent and wild. She’s not afraid. Not afraid of what others think, not afraid of being different, not afraid of taking chances and definitely not afraid of being in love. But that’s what this is… Isn’t it?

The thought flies out of her head as Jim comes up behind her, standing on the coffee table, as the chorus of the song starts to play.

            She laughs as she backs up against him, feeling what he feels. His hands are on her hips as they dance wildly to the guitar and drums.

“I wanna kiss you every minute, every hour, every day. You got me in a spin but everything is A.OK!” Jim tries his best imitation of Justin Hawkins’ high voice, but fails miserably. Pam jumps out of his reach and lands on the couch, trying her best to look as seductive as she can, and succeeds, leaving Jim shaking his head with a drooling smile on his face.

“Touching you, touching me, touching you, God you’re touching me!” Pam slides her hands up and down her frame, giggling. 


 I believe in a thing called love,
Just listen to the rhythm of my heart,
There’s a chance we could make it now,
We’ll be rocking ‘til the sun goes down,
I believe in a thing called love.
Ooh! Guitar! 

            Just then, Jim breaks out in an air-guitar solo, down on one knee, tongue stuck out just like Gene Simmons. This presented a fit of hysterical laughter to Pam, grabbing her sides and falling on the couch. Jim jumps off the table and lays down right on top of her, subsiding her laughter with his lips. Pam’s arms wind up around his neck and kisses him deeper, harder, faster. She smiles as Jim moves his lips to her neck.


 Touching you, touching me
Touching you, God you’re touching me,

I believe in a thing called love,
Just listen to the rhythm of my heart,
There’s a chance we could make it now,
We’ll be rocking ‘til the sun goes down,
I believe in a thing called love.
Ooh! 


All it takes is his touch, and she believes.