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Author's Chapter Notes:
Just some ideas that wouldn't leave me alone when I should have been writing NaNo. No copyright infringement intended. Don't own them. If I did the writers would need to be striking right now.

Two o'clock had come and gone and Jim still hadn't returned to the office. Pam congratulated herself on successfully resisting the urge to text him and find out where he was. She didn't want to be that girlfriend, though naturally she could not stop herself from looking up hopefully at the door each time she heard a sound. She hoped that his delay was due to his business meeting going exceptionally well. He had not been in the mood to go out at all as the sales call was with a customer known for her difficulty.

The real reason Jim dreaded this particular customer, a woman by the name of Jay Keeler, was simple. In Jim's opinion, Jay Keeler was practically a female version of Michael Scott. Her obvious appreciation of Jim's youth and appearance more often than not bordered on inappropriate, and over the years of semi-annual sales meetings he quickly grew weary of the never ending succession of compliments and innuendos.

He would have willingly passed the whole situation on to Dwight, commission be damned, but he knew from experience that he was the only salesman she would work with. The last time her order came due he let Dwight take the sales call. She flatly refused to authorize any purchases until Jim could be present. Seeing that her company had recently opened a second office in Wilkes Barre, this meant that for the same level of discomfort he could stand to make double the profit. Or at least that's what Pam argued. She urged him to take the sales call with Jay Keeler.

"I can't believe you approve of my being whored out for a paper sale," he complained, his arms draped over the counter as he assumed his usual position at the corner of her reception desk.

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?"

"Well what would you call it?"

"Showing off the best Dunder Mifflin has to offer?" She grinned.

Jim picked absentmindedly at the jelly beans. "So it doesn't bother you at all that your boyfriend is being hit on?"

Pam shrugged. "What can I say? She obviously has good taste." She took a sip of her tea, her eyes glancing up over the mug to meet his. "I trust you."

Jim shivered for her benefit. "Oh, you've got nothing to worry about on that front."

"Then suck it up and think about all the toys you will able to buy with that nice commission check."

He pouted as he headed over to the coat stand for his jacket. "No sympathy whatsoever," he mumbled.

"You'll be fine."

Jacket on, he slipped his messenger bag over his shoulder and gave her one more sullen look.

"If you quit complaining maybe I'll make you dinner tonight," she sighed.

He frowned. "But don't you have class tonight?"

"Shoot, you're right." Pam's facial expression matched his. "I keep forgetting it's Tuesday. How about I'll cook for you tomorrow so you don't feel so taken advantage of today?"

He nodded in agreement and gave her a slight wave as he walked out the door. And he'd been gone now for well over three hours.

Pam's own lunchtime was interrupted by a list of errands Michael had requested she run for him. When she told him she didn't have a car (having ridden in that morning with Jim), he threw her the keys to his PT Cruiser without even glancing up from the comic book he was trying to hide behind some Dunder Mifflin catalogs. Which is why she was only now getting to eat her lunch at her desk.

At two-twenty Jim finally walked in, his slow trudging gait complementing the utter fatigue that showed on his face. He said nothing as he walked past her desk, but a small sad smile and a head tilt toward the far corner of the room made his request clear. Pam put the phones on forward, packed up her remaining bits of lunch and followed Jim into the break room.

Jim audibly groaned as he sat down in the metal and plastic chair.

"That bad, huh?" Pam asked gently as she took the chair next to him.

"Worse." Jim rested his elbows on the table, his head in his hands. "Her new assistant manager kept trying to talk her into backing out of business with us and going to Staples - right as I sat there!" He ran his hands over his face and then leaned back in his chair. "I'd have to play up to the old bag to explain why that wasn't in her best interests, and after a while it became completely apparent that she was having her assistant do this all on purpose just to toy with me!"

"Ugh," Pam commiserated, her hand reaching out to rest on his forearm. "You poor thing."

"I swear, Pam, I came this close to just telling her to go to hell and walking out."

Pam leaned against the table, resting her cheek against her fist, and looked at him sympathetically. "So what happened?"

"I got the sale, of course. But I feel like I need to take a shower now."

"I'm sorry," she said, stroking his arm. "You know, you really need to think about finding something else to do."

He gave her a quizzical look. "What? And give up all this?" He gestured around the room. "It's fine," he sighed. "It was just a bad day."

"Yeah, but you should be doing something you really want to do, you know? Do something you love. You are so smart, and talented..."

"Oh, right," he scoffed. "I'm pretty sure I can't get legitimate work doing what I do best, and that's being your boyfriend."

"Don't sell yourself short, Jim," she chided lightly.

He continued to tease. "You mean I can make a living at it?"

"You know what I mean. You could do anything you wanted to do."

"Yeah, but who would keep you entertained here? Unless this is just a ruse to get me out of your hair. Maybe being around me all day, every day is making you crazy." He quirked his brow. "I mean crazier," he corrected.

She pinched the arm she had previously been caressing. "Dork."

"Ouch!"

She continued to press the issue. "I don't expect to be here forever, you know. If you aren't careful you'll be alone here while I'm out at a real job. It's not like I need to work here anymore now that I see you all the time now, right?"

"Ah ha," he grinned. "So you admit your world has centered around me for so long that the only reason you kept this job is to be near me?"

"Not quite that pathetic, thanks," she rolled her eyes. "But let's just say the time I spent working here without you was pretty grim. You don't want to go there."

He nodded and covered her hand with his. They sat there in companionable silence until Pam cleared her throat. She shifted nervously, and sat up a bit straighter in her chair.

"Oh, uh, I have a little something that might cheer you up." She opened the hand that had been resting against her cheek and placed two keys she'd been holding onto the table in front of him. "I know we don't spend much time there," she said haltingly, feeling a warm flush creep up her face, "but it probably doesn't hurt for you to a have a key. Just in case."

Jim picked up the silver apartment key and ran his finger over the sharp edges. He smiled ever-so-slightly, then looked down at the other key on the table. "And that would be a car key?"

Pam nodded a little too vigorously, her nerves starting to get the best of her. "Yeah," she murmured. She started to worry that perhaps she had misjudged her timing. Maybe it was still too early in their relationship to be offering such things.

"In case I ever feel the need to try and wedge myself behind the steering wheel of your clown car?" Jim's tone was clearly teasing, but Pam felt herself blushing even harder.

"No," she replied haltingly, keeping her gaze focused on the Toyota key still on the table. "It's just that I've locked my keys in my car before and it would be easier to call you than a locksmith." She reached to take the key off the table. "But you're right. It's probably a stupid idea....."

Jim's hand reached the key before hers did. "Just wait," he instructed firmly, picking up the key and placing with the other key already in his hand. "I didn't say it was stupid." He shifted in his chair as he put his free hand into his pants pocket and pulled out his key ring.

Pam visibly relaxed. After all, putting them on his key ring was a good thing, right? He was accepting her gift, no matter how badly she might have botched the presentation. She focused on finishing her sandwich - ham and cheese had morphed into a staple of her lunch as well these days - until the sound of metal hitting the table startled her. She looked up to see Jim sliding an unfamiliar gold key in her direction. She glanced up at his face and noticed that now he was the one who appeared to be flustered.

"It didn't occur to me at the time to make a copy of my car key, but I'll do that over the weekend," he said softly, nudging the key even closer to her hand.

She picked it up, and eyed him curiously. "You carry an extra house key?"

He held her gaze only briefly, then looked back down at his hands. "I had it made a while ago. I was just waiting for the right moment to give it to you."

"How long is a while ago?"

He shrugged. "I don't remember. A while."

Pam couldn't help but grin. "And you're just giving it to me now?"

Her amusement caused him to smile self-consciously. "I guess. I didn't want you to think I was moving too fast."

"You?" She laughed slightly. "I don't think I could ever accuse you of that."

"Why, how long ago did you make these?" He asked, indicating the keys she'd given him.

"Today," she replied. "Michael sent me to the hardware store. When I saw the key counter it hit me as the right thing to do."

Jim finished sliding the new keys onto the O-ring and jingled them against the other keys as he put it back into his pocket. "It was the right thing to do," he replied.

Their conversation came to a standstill as Toby, then Meredith, entered the break room for snacks and drinks. When they were alone again, Pam stood and threw her lunch trash away. "I guess I better get back upfront," she said softly. Glancing quickly to see that no one else was about to interrupt them, she leaned down and gave him a quick kiss.

Jim's smile was genuine as she pulled back. "Thanks for the keys," he said.

"You too," she replied. He stood to follow her out when she stopped suddenly, just as she was about to pull open the door. She turned back towards him, a troubled look on her face. "Is this Karen's key?"

Jim's eyebrows rose so high they disappeared into his hairline. "What?" He choked out, sincerely shocked. "No, of course not!"

Pam shrugged. "You said you'd had it for a while. I just wondered." She turned back to open the door and felt his hand on her shoulder. He stepped closer to her, and she leaned back against him briefly.

"She never had a key," he said softly, his head bend down close to hers.

"Good," she replied just as softly, her sense of relief more overwhelming than she'd ever willingly admit. "Good."

 

 


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