Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
There’s an image of Pam permanently fixed in Jim’s mind. It’s damn near perfect. It always makes him smile and his heart beat a little faster when he thinks of it. Sometimes he summons it up on purpose because he hasn’t seen her all day and he misses her and sometimes it appears of its own volition, at the most inopportune moments like when he’s bored in the middle of a sales meeting. It doesn’t make it any easier to concentrate.
He’d never told Pam about this precise image, but he had told her that there were a few pictures of her he had firmly lodged in his brain.
‘Really,’ she’d asked, lighting up, ‘are any of them dirty?’
Jim had blushed, feeling like a teenager caught with a copy of Playboy. ‘Well, yeah…a few are…’
‘Better be,’ Pam had interrupted, snaking her arms around him, ‘because the idea of you fantasizing about someone else makes me insanely jealous. The consequences could be dire.’ Her attempt at melodrama quickly dissolved into a giggle as she reached up to kiss him on his chin.
‘Well, you know,’ Jim couldn’t resist, ‘I tried thinking about Angela, but Dwight kept sneaking into the picture and trying to cut in on my action. That was too disturbing on soooo many levels…so I had to switch to thinking about you.’
‘Hmmmm,’ Pam had considered his response, ‘I guess that means the threesome I was planning with you and Dwight is out of the question then?’ Jim had grunted in total disgust and they’d both laughed and been just…happy. A little grossed out, but happy.
The perfect image in Jim’s mind is a mental snapshot captured very shortly after they’d begun to see each other – to not just be friends, but to finally, finally be more than that. When she’d finally gotten past the fallout from her break-up with Roy and let Jim in, in every sense of the word. When he finally knew with utter certainty that he’d been right to wait so long for her. When she finally admitted that she was his and that there’d been no misinterpretations. Ever.
Their first few times together had been spent at her place. Long, rambling nights, where they’d made love over and over and talked and not talked and laughed and then been very serious when he’d repeated how much he loved her and she’d gotten a little teary and whispered it back to him and shown him that she meant it. Jim had sensed that she initially needed to be in her own familiar surroundings to take that leap, and that was fine with him. It really didn’t matter, because when they were together, there was only the intoxicating scent of her skin and the way she tasted when she cried out his name in abandon and surprise. Only an entire world in her eyes when she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deeper and deeper, until there was no other ‘place’ except her.
The picture Jim carries in his mind, however, is from the morning after the first night Pam had stayed at his house. His roommate was out of town and they’d spent the evening on his sofa watching then ignoring a movie. They’d barely even made it upstairs to his bedroom, much less to his car to drive to her apartment. When Jim had woken up the next morning, vestiges of the previous night were all around him: the blankets were kicked almost completely off the bed, pillows were on the floor and the sheet was missing entirely. But the first thing he noticed was that he was alone. Surveying the room quickly, he was relieved to see evidence that Pam was still on the premises, though he chided himself for still being insecure enough to even momentarily entertain thoughts of her fleeing. Her shirt and jeans were in piles on the floor leading from the door to the bed, her lacy bra was flung over his night table where he’d tossed it, and rolling over, he discovered her hastily discarded panties right there underneath his left thigh.
Jim got out of bed and looked around for his boxers, but they were nowhere to be seen. He did find his jeans though and pulled them on, only half zipping them and not even bothering to do the button. His flash of memory of the previous night had produced a slight stirring, making too much constriction less than comfortable at the moment. Wearing only jeans, he went out into the hallway to investigate Pam’s whereabouts. The bathroom was empty. He peeked into Mark’s room as he headed towards the stairs, even though he couldn’t imagine why she’d be in there. No Pam. The house was completely silent, and he intuitively walked quietly as he descended the stairs.
She wasn’t in the living room either, so he turned towards the kitchen, where he was stopped dead in his tracks at the open door. There she was, standing in front of the tiled counter, staring out the window, seemingly in her own world. She was turned partially away from him and she was completely, gloriously naked, except for the errant bed sheet, which she was clutching to her chest, so that it just barely covered her front half. The morning light was hitting her so that her hair, still messy from bed, looked golden and her skin glowed too, impossibly soft, almost diffuse. Jim was transfixed for a moment, his eyes following the graceful curve from her shoulders, down her back, finally swelling into her beautiful, smooth, rounded bottom. She was absolutely breathtaking.
She looked so innocent standing there, her small hands clutching the sheet and her mouth as delicate as a child’s. He couldn’t help thinking about her last night and oh god, again in the early morning hours, moving under him, moving over him, watching him watching her. He had an achingly vivid sense memory of those same hands, that same mouth, roaming places and doing things that were anything but childlike.
After a minute, as if just noticing his presence, Pam turned her head slightly to look at him, the gentle smile on her lips and in her eyes as open and warm as the sunlight bathing her through the window. It was at this exact, exquisitely intimate moment that his perfect image of her was fixed forever. Jim didn’t think he’d ever seen anything better.
‘Hey,’ she said, almost shyly.
‘Hey,’ Jim answered, his voice still husky with sleep. Then after a long quiet minute, he asked ‘What are you doing?’
‘I was …just walking around your house and the light was so nice in here,’ Pam blushed a little. ‘To be honest, I was kind of imagining you doing everyday things, like cooking or…I know it sounds silly, but I’ve never been in your space before, really been in it…like this. I needed to know how it felt.’ She looked down, suddenly embarrassed.
‘How did it feel?’ Jim asked, looking at her as if he’d discovered a miracle.
‘Good,’ she replied, looking up into his eyes. ‘It felt good, like I was right here with you, even though you were still asleep upstairs. Like we were really connected.’ She took a breath and continued, ‘With Roy, I always felt sort of alone, even when he was right next to me.’ The minute Roy’s name had left her lips she regretted it. ‘Jim, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have brought Roy up, I…’
‘Shhhh, it’s okay,’ Jim reassured her, stepping forward and pulling her into an embrace, his arms around her waist. ‘But you’ve reached your quota for the day. One more mention of Roy and you’re out of here.’
She leaned her head against his chest and laughed. Jim rested his chin on top of her head and thought about what she’d just said…before the Roy part, that is. It was maybe the best thing anyone had ever said to him.
Jim pulled her in even closer and her hands reflexively went up behind his head, into his hair as their lips met in a deep, long, soulful kiss. She didn’t even notice that the sheet had dropped away, as Jim’s hands stroked over her back and down as far as they could reach along the supple curving line that his eyes had traced a few minutes before. The sensation of her silky skin under his fingertips and her full breasts pressed against his chest made the stirring he’d begun to feel upstairs exponentially more pronounced. Pam must have noticed too, because without ever breaking the kiss, she pushed her hips hard against him, making him gasp against her mouth as her hands slid down his torso and began playing with the opened button of his jeans.
‘Take me back to bed, Halpert,’ she whispered in his ear.
Lifting her in his arms, leaving the sheet lying on the kitchen floor, Jim carried her back upstairs and laid her on his bed. Peeling off his jeans, he lowered himself carefully on top of her and his space collided with hers and then there was no space between them at all, and that’s where they stayed for a very long time.
Later, when they were completely sated, they’d finally gotten up, showered, semi-dressed and devoured a huge breakfast that Jim cooked, exactly the way Pam had imagined. Finishing up, she noticed that he looked a little pensive.
‘What are you thinking, Jim?’
The image of her standing in front of that window, bathed in light and exposed to him in every way, filled his head.
‘I’m thinking that you ought to invade my space more often,’ he answered, turning to her and smiling.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Just a possible interlude, if these two crazy kids ever got together (and it wasn't shown on network TV.) For those who read my last story, this one is a bit less explicit, but still packs a fair punch of steam.
To be consistent with the photo this is based on, I took some liberties with the vintage and layout of Jim’s house (as shown in Email Surveillance.)
To be consistent with the photo this is based on, I took some liberties with the vintage and layout of Jim’s house (as shown in Email Surveillance.)
Colette is the author of 37 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 38 members. Members who liked In His Space also liked 3139 other stories.
