Crap.  It's later than I thought, glancing again at the digital display as Pam pulls into the driveway.  Almost eleven.  And she has to be up for a 4:30am paper delivery.  We don't need Michael waking up all the neighbors if she's not right at the door waiting for him.

I didn't even realize how late it was getting.  I was enjoying my third or fourth beer of the evening, laughing at Pete and my dad arguing about the hockey playoffs, when I felt her hand on my arm and noticed the time.  Handing her the keys, I apologized and we quickly bid everyone goodbye and headed out to the car.

The drive home took almost an hour and I actually dozed off a bit on the highway.  As Pam negotiated the stoplights and turns of Scranton, I opened my eyes and yawned.

"Sorry we're getting home so late," I offer tentatively as she turns off the ignition and takes the purse I hand to her.

"No problem," she smiles tiredly at me.  "You were having such a fun time giving Pete crap, I couldn't interrupt until I realized that we still had to drive home and four hours sleep is probably the minimum in order to deal with Michael all day."

I push open the door and usher her on ahead.  "Minimum is right.  Off to bed with you, Ms. Beesly.  At least I'll get three extra hours before being tortured all day by Charles."

"Poor baby," she pats my cheek as she heads up the stairs.  "Are you sure you don't want me to arrange a meeting with him in order to describe all your good qualities?"  Her fingers linger on my lips and I gently nip on one, reaching around her waist with one arm to hold her in place.

"What good qualities would those be?" I murmur suggestively, but she giggles softly and drags me along up the stairs.

"C'mon, let's go.  I'm not missing one minute of sleep tonight, even for sex.  If we stay up any later, I'll be cross-eyed tomorrow."

I release her reluctantly as we enter our bedroom, and Pam heads over to her dresser to grab a nightshirt  before crossing the hall to the bathroom.  I sit on the bed, toe off my sneakers, shrug out of my jeans, and pull the covers up over me.  I'm asleep before Pam returns to bed.

                                                **********

The clock's insistent buzzing causes me to lurch out of a sound sleep.  Somewhat disoriented, I lean over Pam to the nightstand and shut off the alarm.  As I gather her to me, she makes the sexiest little protesting noises in her throat.  She's warm and soft and half-asleep and I want her so much at this moment. 

"Ssh, don't wake up yet," I breathe against her ear as I pull the covers back up over us to keep out the early morning chill.  My hand finds the hem of her nightshirt and gently pulls up, exposing her bare legs to my touch.  She hangs onto the comforter as I burrow under the sheets, slipping her panties off, and ditching my boxers.

I gently part her legs, and shift so I'm lying on my side between them and lean forward to rub my cheek softly against her inner thigh.

"Mmmm, you smell wonderful.  I love that stuff you put on." My tongue snakes out, leaving wet kisses along this path I know so well.  My hand reaches up, toys with a nipple through her shirt.

"Coconut.  Bath and Body Works.  Oh, Jim, yes," she sighs as my mouth finds its mark and I begin to arouse her slowly in my favorite way.  I adore making love to her first thing in the morning, when she's  just so open and wet in sweet surrender and able to simply enjoy what I'm doing to her without a care in the world, just the two of us.

Soon enough, her frantic fingers in my hair and her breathing tell me she's almost there.  I slide a finger gently inside, but she makes it clear, in no uncertain terms, that she wants more.

"Please, now..."

I quickly slide back up her body, lifting her slightly to skim off her nightshirt.  Her hands scramble desperately to remove my tee and as I help her lift it over my head, I catch my breath.  She's got my cock in a firm grasp, slowly moving up and down, teasing the tip with her thumb.  I hold as still as possible, allowing her this.  God, she has no idea how much power she has over me.  Whoever said women are the weaker sex never experienced this.  Never.

"Pam, let me," I beg, and she opens up so beautifully and guides me home.  I gather her as close as I possibly can and begin to move, slowly, loving her with my body as I love her with everything inside of me.  Her legs wrap tight around me, one hand buried in my hair, one hand lightly scratching my nipple, making me even harder as I moan into her hair how much I love her, how good she feels, and fuck, god, yes, please Pam, and then she's begging me please, please, please, and I whisper yes, yes, come for me, Pam, and she takes my words as permission of some sort and lets go and I feel her giving herself to me in every way and the wonder of it takes me outside of myself and I'm coming so hard into this woman, my Pam, my wife even if it's not official yet and I thank god for being alive at this moment.

We hold each other as our breathing slows.  I rub my face in her hair and thank her with quiet kisses near her ear.

"Well, guess I'm awake now," she murmurs softly.

"Better than the alarm clock, huh?" I smile.

"Oh yeah, a million times better.  God, I wish I could stay here longer, but paper deliveries wait for no one."  She reluctantly disentangles herself from my arms, throws back the bedding and pads out to the bathroom.

When she comes downstairs dressed for work, I'm sitting in the kitchen in the dark brewing a pot of coffee by the light above the stove, her travel mug in my hands. 

"You didn't have to get up," she gently scolds, but comes over and perches on my lap with a smile.

I grin up at her. "Oh, I figured I owed you some high test, since I cheated you out of a few extra minutes of sleep."

"Sleep is overrated, Halpert, and you know..."

Suddenly the sound of insistent honking interrupts our quiet reverie.  Pam jumps up, grabs her purse and rushes to the door.  I follow, somewhat peeved that Michael has the nerve to barge in and steal our time together.  Not to mention the coffee's not done yet.  Damn.

I hold the screen door open, as Pam turns and kisses me.  "I'll see you later.  Love you."

"Love you too," I reply as Pam heads toward the van.  I really can't see much with the porch light blinding me, but Michael's yelling something inappropriate about boners and I smile, give a halfhearted wave and shut the door.

I have two and a half hours before I need to get ready for work, but I pour a mug of coffee, sit back down at the kitchen table and sip slowly and contentedly in the dark.

It isn't until later, when I go in to shower that I notice the unopened pill case sitting on the edge of the sink and momentarily wonder.