Jim and Pam manage to devour all of their snacks between the two of them, Pam claiming most of the ice cream for herself, leaving Jim with the popcorn. He’s not about to complain though – He’s just happy to see her happy, and if eating all of his chocolate ice cream and pouting at the thought of sharing with him makes her happy, there’s no way in hell he’s going to stand in her way. Like he could ever stop her from doing something she wants to do, whatever she wants. Dazed and Confused (in Pam’s top three favorite movies of all time and in Jim’s top five) is playing on his TV. It’s the movie’s final scene and he knows it well. He smiles slightly as Foghat’s “Slow Ride” starts to play, and turns to notice that Pam is fading fast on the couch next to him. Loath to wake her up but very aware of the fact she’s wearing contacts, he nudges her slightly. “Pam?,” She blinks at him dazedly. “Pam, you need to take out your contacts so you can sleep.”
“But I’m not ready to sleep,” She protests weakly.
“Yeah, I know you say that now, but I also know you’re exhausted, and I don’t want your eyes to get hurt. Please?”
“Jim, if I take them out now, I can’t see ANYTHING. I’m basically blind without them. I’ll have to go straight to sleep or keeping my eyes open will just give me a headache.”
“Well, Pam, it is past midnight. It’s okay to sleep. Don’t stay up on my account. I can keep myself entertained pretty well, and I’m probably gonna call it a night in a bit too.
Pam exhales dramatically, her cheeks puffing out. “Okay, well, I think I should take a shower.”
Jim hops up and heads up the stairs, motioning for her to follow. “C’mon.”
She trails behind him tiredly, dangling the plastic bag containing her contacts case and her “girly deodorant,” as Jim had referred to it, on one finger.
They make it to the bathroom, and Jim ducks into his room for a second before returning with a clean towel that he hangs on the back of the door. “Okay, so before you take these out,” he gestures to her eyes, “and descend into total blindness, I just wanna explain the shower.”
“What, does it double as a time machine or something?”
“Only every other weekend. Sorry about that, Pam.” He grins goofily. “But the right side is really hot water and the left is really cold. It’s mislabeled, so be careful.” He hovers awkwardly.
“I think I’ll be fine.” She picks up the toothbrush she had used earlier (her toothbrush) and proceeds to brush her teeth a final time before bed. Jim admires her dental hygiene, knowing how often he “forgets” to brush his own teeth even once every night before falling asleep. It’s a miracle he doesn’t have any cavities. He backs out of the room, not at all wanting to overstep or make her uncomfortable. His heart is racing at the thought of her using his shower, not to mention his soap and shampoo. “Okay, so I’ll leave you to it.”
“Kay,” She mumbles, her mouth full of toothpaste, the mint green foam starting to drip down her lip.
Oh boy… He has to get out of there. He closes the door behind him, a little more forcibly than necessary. He needs to lie down. He walks into his room without thinking about it before freezing, realizing that it’s Pam’s room for the night. He pulls out some clothes to sleep in, deciding Pam will almost definitely not appreciate him sleeping in the nude like he usually does. Gathering his plaid pajama pants and a T-shirt under his left armpit, he quickly grabs a fresh pair of jeans and a Navy blue sweater for the next day. He gives his room a quick once-over, and deciding it’s acceptable, he steps out, leaving the light on for Pam, and settling himself in Mark’s room. Ugh. Mark did not kid. His room is a pig-sty. Deciding not to bother with tidying up his roommate’s mess, he collapses on the bed, dosing off before he knows it.
Jim is floating on a cloud of nothing, and over the roar in his ears he can hear Pam calling his name. He is vaguely aware he must be dreaming, because why else would Pam be calling out to him? But she doesn’t sound like herself, she sounds upset, panicked even. Something’s wrong. And just like that he’s jolted awake, sitting up. “Pam?!,” He calls out, voice cracking slightly. The silence that greets his cry worries him enough to send him off the bed and out the door entirely, his clothes scattering everywhere. He clears his throat. “Pam?” He rushes to the bathroom and hesitates at the closed door. The light is still on. Tentatively, he knocks. No response. He turns the knob, squinting his eyes at the light, and…nothing. The air is steamy, the mirror still slightly fogged up. Pam’s toothbrush is on the sink. Walking over to his bedroom door, he pauses when he registers that it’s closed, but the light is still on, just as he left it, and he needs to see her, needs to know she’s okay. He knocks loudly enough to wake her up, but when he doesn’t hear anything, he lets himself in and immediately lets out a sigh of relief. There she is. Pam. She really is a sight to behold, all bundled up in his comforter with her wet hair spread out on his pillow. He sees her watch, earrings, along with her new contacts case and deodorant on his desk to the left of the bed. A sense of calm overtakes him and his heart rate starts to return to normal. At that, he quietly pads out of his room, pausing to flick off the lights, closing his door behind him. He barely makes it back to Mark’s room before he collapses, dead to the world.
