It was Friday night, and the first Friday night since they’d started dating that Jim and Pam did not have a date.  Pam had worried (foolishly in Jim’s opinion) that he would get sick of her, and though he ardently protested, she had insisted that they take this particular Friday night to themselves.

He’d never said no to her in the past, but he’d always respected her wishes.  And it was for this reason why Jim found himself alone in his apartment drinking cheap beer and watching the finale of a reality show he had never once watched.  He tried to remember back to his bachelor life, before Pam, and if it had been this pathetic.  Sure there were more parties, more adventures, more mornings where he had a hard time remembering the night before, but in the end, it had been just as meaningless as watching some frat boy win a million dollars just for being on TV.

As the credits rolled, the cordless phone ringing on the coffee table startled Jim, rattling his plate of half-eaten pizza.

“Hello?”

“Halpert.  Turn off the television and come out.”

“Mark, I know you keep hoping I answer differently, but I’m into women.”

“Shut up.  Seriously, Cooper’s, now,” Mark ordered, the noise of the bar crowding his words.

Jim sighed and wondered where his desire to go out went, and more importantly, why he didn’t so much care that it was gone.

“Normally, I would allure you with the promise of inebriated women, but dumb ol’ Pam had to ruin that one,” Mark jeered with amusement.

Jim smirked.  “Sorry, buddy.  Look at it this way, you’ll have a better success rate with me not there.”

“I liked you better when you were single and depressed.”

“Night, Mark.” Jim hung up the phone and lazily grabbed the remote to find something to occupy another hour of his night.  

He was halfway through an episode of "The Crocodile Hunter", lamenting the loss of Steve Irwin when the phone rang again.

“Mark, I don’t care how many drunk girls are with you, I’m not coming.”

“Jim?” It was a small voice, practically whimpering, and he bolted upright at the sound of it.

“Pam? What’s wrong?  Look, what I said, I thought it was Mark, I have no interest in drunk girls—“

“No, it’s fine, I don’t—can you come over?”

Jim smiled.  “Miss me already, huh?”

“Yes, well, no—I mean, I was watching ‘It’ and the power went out and I know it sounds dumb but I can’t be alone right now.”

Jim needed no more convincing.  “I’m on my way.”

xxx

She answered the door clutching the phone in one hand and her large comforter huddled around her in the other.

“Thank you,” Pam whispered, pulling him through her doorway and into a tight embrace.

He smiled and kissed the top of her head.  “Believe me, I would have been here sooner, but all those damn stop signs and red-lights…I’m complaining to the city.”

Jim surveyed the room and understood why Pam had been so scared.  The small apartment was completely void of light, except for the one slip of a white beam coming from the streetlamp outside.  

“Don’t you own candles or something?”

“Sorry, I gave up my seduction routine when we started dating.”

“Good to know,” he poked her gently in the ribs.  “Come on, lead the way to a flashlight.”

“It’s in the hall closet,” she said, slipping her hands down his arms to meet his and stepped slowly through the darkness.

The only sound between them for a few minutes was steady breathing and the soft padding of feet on the carpet.  Jim gave her hands reassuring squeezes every few moments, reminding her that he was there and had no intention of leaving.

Then suddenly, he felt a tug at her comforter and realized he had stepped on it as she continued to move.  Pam let out a squeal as she fell to the floor, Jim following closely behind.

They landed next to each other, groaning at the intensity of their fall when Jim began to laugh and soon they were both in hysterics, splayed out on the floor next to each other.

“The blind leading the blind,” Pam mused.

“That’s the best you can come up with?  I’m disappointed in you, Beesly.”

“Hey, I can’t be clever, I’ve sustained a serious head injury,” she said between giggles.  

“Oh, have you?”  Jim’s hands followed her curls upward and began to gently stroke her neck.

Pam let out a content sigh, murmuring “Mhmm.”

“Well you are in luck then.  I majored in How to Treat Serious Head Injuries.”

“I thought it was Public Speaking.”

“I was a double-major,” he inched his face closer to hers, following the sweet puffs of air from her breath.

“Lucky me,” she whispered as his lips finally found hers, ceasing the ache in her head and replacing it with delightful dizziness.

They stayed wrapped in the embrace for what seemed like hours, and as Jim’s eyes adjusted to the light, he could see the soft curves of her face come into focus.  He smiled and couldn’t remember the last time things seemed so clear.