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Author's Chapter Notes:

I haven't updated this in forever, thanks to all of you who convinced me to add a chapter, and it's a Long one! At least for me :)

 

They’re going to move Pam's stuff into her new place tomorrow and Jim’s almost feeling a little depressed.

 

He needs a roommate.

 

He hasn’t realized how tired he is of living alone until living with Pam this week. His evenings seem brighter when he has someone to go home to, washing dishes after dinner isn’t as much of a chore and even Conan has a new spark.

 

He hadn’t realized exactly how much he was enjoying her company until she had come home one evening (since when had he begun to call his apartment her ‘home?’) with a sprightly glow announcing that she had found a place to live. Karen had told her about vacancies in her building and she had found a tiny efficiency that she could afford with ease while still saving up for grad school.

 

He had barely managed a smile, he had choked out that she could stay with him as long as she needed to and that he could even buy a bed for the workout room/office area of his apartment.

 

Her grin had lost some of its wattage as she had explained to him that his fiancé probably wouldn’t be too keen on him living with another girl and that she really appreciated everything he had done for her.

 

He had dressed himself in a veil of nonchalance after that, but now the night before Pam is moving out he allows himself to wallow, just a little, in self-pity.

 

He’s technically not even supposed to be in his apartment right now, Pam had shooed him away until 7:30, when she was going to present him and Karen with a ‘Beesly feast’ as a token of her appreciation for their help this week.

 

He is supposed to be waiting at Karen’s but she has a hair appointment and he hates hanging out at her place alone. With it’s cold, austere lines and hard ‘chic’ leather furniture he never manages to make himself ‘feel at home’ there. Right now he figures he can lend Pam a hand in the kitchen and get changed out his uncomfortable clothes.

 

He moves towards the fridge to grab a beer when he hears the bathroom door open, she’s only wearing a towel and the fact that she’s softly singing her favorite Regina Spektor song indicates that she thinks she’s alone in the apartment. Her hair hangs in loose wet curls down her back and her skin has a rosy hue from the heat of the shower. Her eyes are sparkling and he’s never seen her look so fresh, so happy, or so beautiful. He watches her almost as if one would watch a deer in the wild- he wants to avoid startling her at all cost. Even though he feels like a voyeur, he knows that she would be mortified to realize that he’s in the apartment. When she leans over to fish something out of her suitcase he forces himself to look away as her towel inches up her backside. He catches enough of a glimpse to decide he needs a stronger drink.

 

A strong sigh of relief whooshes out him when she finally returns to the bathroom.

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“They need to be chopped lengthwise,” she says biting her fingernail.

 

“How the hell do you chop a mushroom lengthwise?” he asks.

 

She pores over the cookbook,” before quirking up an eyebrow at him and taking a sip of her wine, “Hell, if I know,”

 

He grins before returning to chopping the mushrooms for her pasta sauce, they’ve been working in companionable silence for the most part, punctuated occasionally by laughter or swift jabs at one another’s cooking skills. It’s the best part of his day so far.

 

She grins as she watches him chop carefully with a look of consternation on his face, the mushrooms are tiny compared to his gigantic hands and he looks adorable in the pink apron her mother had given her last Christmas. She tries to ignore the ache in her heart that comes from knowing that tonight is their last night together as ‘roommates’ and that soon there cozy little twosome will be invaded by the true love of his life, the thought is enough to make her throw back the rest of her wine in a gulp.

 

Sometime between assembling the salad and checking on the tiramisu (not to mention Pam swatting Jim’s fork from taking a nibble) Jim’s phone goes off and he jogs into the living room to get it. From the casual, “Where are you?” Pam can tell that it’s Karen on the other line, Jim’s face turns somewhat serious and Pam forces herself to look away, she doesn’t want to invade his privacy.

 

Still she can hear bits of conversation float into the kitchen while she throws together the dressing, ‘I’m not going to New York tonight…I’m really not that big of a Jimmy Fallon fan…I thought you hated SNL…We promised her…not I’m not going to…Don’t do this to me Karen…fine…you know what, call me when you get there.”

 

When she hears him angrily snap the phone shut she grips the side of the countertop in the vain hope that the silestone might give her strength. He comes back in looking defeated and immediately returns to his chopping.

 

“You should go,” she says, careful to keep her tone even.

 

His exasperation finally bubbles to the surface as his knife falls to the counter with a ‘clack,’ “I have zero desire to drive up to New York tonight and stand in line to get into a party with a bunch of B-list celebrities and then stay out all night watching Karen and her friends get smashed. Besides, I promised you I’d help you move in tomorrow.”

 

Now it’s her turn to get a little exasperated, “You shouldn’t make her mad over me Jim,” she says wiping her hands furiously on his dishtowel, “I’m not worth you two fighting over, in fact, if anything I can see her point. I’m surprised she doesn’t hate me by now, if you look at it her from her point of view I’ve basically taken her fiancé hostage for the weekend, forcing him into dinner with me and guilting him into helping me move,” by now she’s gesturing wildly and Jim is torn between amusement and indignation.

 

“One,” he says holding out his index finger, “You didn’t force me or guilt me into anything, I Want to help you move, I Want to eat this delicious dinner, Two,” he adds his middle finger with a snap, “Karen knew about these plans and she volunteered to help move tomorrow, her bailing last minute for some party is totally lame on her part and she knows it, Three, “You’ve been my friend for pretty much as long as I can remember, that takes precedence over any party, any commitment,” and even though he doesn’t say it, the  word, “Anyone,” hangs in the air between them.

 

“Ok,” she says looking up at him, her eyes just barely glassy, “I think the garlic bread is going to burn,”

 

“Well, we can’t have that,” he replies with a grin as they return to the kitchen.

  

“I’m going to miss this,” he says almost to himself. 

 

============================================================= 

 

Pam is curled up next to him on the sofa, her eyelids drooping heavily as they near the end of the Never Ending Story, a copy of which Pam had surprised him with as a gift, it had been their absolute most favorite film growing up and they’ve watched almost all of it without resorting to (many) snarky comments- they chalk it up to the power of nostalgia.

 

“You’re going to miss watching movies in your living room,” she asks with a yawn.

 

“Yeah, Pam, that’s what I’m going to miss,” he pretends to roll his eyes, but the tenderness with which he brushes a lock of hair out of her face implies that he’s going to be missing something else entirely.

 

She smiles up at him, and scoots over almost imperceptibly and lays her head on his shoulder, they watch for a few more minutes in companiable silence until she squeezes his hand and whispers, “For what it’s worth, I’m going to miss watching movies on your TV in your living room too."

 

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“You do realize that these are a ridiculously large number of shoes for one person,” he says with a grunt as he heaves the box onto his hip before kicking the door open with his foot.

 

“Fact. There are less than 20 pairs in there, and I know that Karen has way more” She replies. She really, really wants to wipe the drop of sweat that hangs on her brow but she’s got a box full of books balanced in her arms.

 

“Now, now Dwight, everyone knows that Karen is a shoe eating monster; infact, I think Jimmy Choo is listed as her emergency contact. Infact, the only reason I even know who Jimmy Choo is, is because bags with his name scrawled across them are about as common at her place as grocery bags…so you do not want to compare yourself to her,” He smirks and in one swift move leans, his box against the wall and tucks the hair she’s been trying to blow off her face behind her ear.

 

She grins at him gratefully. “So the basement apartment was cheaper, but now I think I’m really going to regret the loss of sunshine.”

 

“Probably, but then again you’re not going to be here long are you?” he tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he says that, he really does, but it’s there and based on the quirking of her left eyebrow, she hears it.

 

“Well, I didn’t get the scholarship at RISD, so that’s out. I’m still waiting to hear from that scholarship in New York; but, well I didn’t want to tell you about this yet because it isn’t a done deal…but one of the Dean’s from Stanford contacted me and said that since I applied so late they had already handed out all the full rides for the year. She said if I deferred for a year, she was sure they could put something together.”

 

For this, he drops his box and takes her’s out of her hands as well. He grasps her by the shoulders and pulls her into a hug, followed of course by the obligatory noogie, “I am so, so proud of you Beesly! Stanford, with a full scholarship, crap I need to go to my parents house and see if they saved any of your old stuff, I’m sure it’s going to be worth a lot someday.”

 

“Thanks,” she says shyly, she shrugs her shoulders, “I never thought it could happen; but, then again I thought I was marrying Roy and look how that worked out,” her smile is wistful but happy and he grins in response.

 

By the time they gather up their boxes, there is a young man about their age holding the door for them. Pam can’t help but be struck by his shiny dark hair, fabulous tan and toned physique.

 

“You all moving in?” the Adonis asks

 

Pam merely nods before composing herself but before she can speak Jim adds, “Yup, just moving in,” Pam can’t help but hear the proprietary nature of his tone and she looks at him strangely before amending, “Yeah I have a place in the basement, my best friend is just helping me move my stuff in.”  She tries not to make the emphasis on ‘I’ too strong, but she can tell the Adonis gets the hint, he smiles a little wider and asks if they need any help bringing her stuff down.

 

Before Jim can brush him off, Pam tells him that she should be fine but thanks him cordially. 

 

“I’m in apartment 1432 if you need anything at all,” the Adonis says as he holds out his hand, “Steve.”

 

“Pam,” she responds before looking pointedly at Jim, who offers his own hand reluctantly, “Jim,” he says his voice tight.

 

After the Adonis also known as Steve leaves the building and before she can confront Jim about his odd behavior, Jim exclaims, “Come on Pamela, these boxes aren’t going to move themselves,” and takes off down the stairs, leaving her to shake her head in confusion.

 

 

Chapter End Notes:
It's about to get sticky soon, so keep your seat belt fastened.


fasterthansnakes is the author of 17 other stories.
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