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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'll be honest, I'm kind of flying by the seat of my pants with this story, but hopefully you like it! Thanks for reading!
The drive to Jim's apartment is quiet. Pam notices Jim's eyes linger on the small suitcase she placed in his backseat when he picked her up, but she's glad he doesn't ask any details. She's not quite sure she wants to dive into everything quite yet. For now, she's happy to simply be next to him, feeling the contentment his presence always seems to bring.

They pull into Jim's apartment just as the sun begins dipping behind the trees and he puts the car into park and kills the engine.

"You hungry, Beesly?" he asks. She thinks she can hear a strain of sympathy in his words.

She looks at him, this man that caused her to redirect the trajectory of her life, and offers a smile. "I could really go for a grilled cheese."

He lets out a breathy laugh and nods slightly. "I think I can manage that. Can I grab your…" he gestures to the backseat. "Or I can take you somewhere after? I don't…"

"You can grab it."

"Okay." She can tell he's trying not to smile but it's a losing battle. She realizes, however, that she always wants him to smile. And that she also really likes being the reason for it.

He gets out of the car and jogs around the front of it. She sees his hand raise up when he notices her reaching for her own door handle, so she playfully raises both of hers to where he can see them. He opens her door for her then retrieves her bag from the back.

"Mark's not home this weekend, so I can crash in his bed and you can take mine tonight if you want. I mean, if you plan on staying here. Tonight. Or...just whatever works best."

His fumbling is endearing and she can't help but chuckle to herself. But she also hadn't even thought about sleeping arrangements when she had called him earlier. Even still, she's surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment when he suggests separate beds.

"Yeah, I'll stay. At least tonight."

His smile brightens. "Alright, then."

She follows behind him as he leads the way to the front door. Jim sets her bag down, reaches into his pocket for his keys, opens the door, and gestures for her to go in before him.

She steps into the entryway, remembering the first and only time she had been here, and is suddenly filled with emotion. She had felt something that night, months ago in this place, but had dismissed it--swatted it away like she always did. And now she was back, this time with her whole world changing except for the one constant standing behind her. The one thing--person--who never changed.

She turns around quickly with tears brimming her eyes as she snakes her arms around him, firmly pressing her cheek against his chest. Jim instantly drops her bag on the floor and envelopes her. His hand strokes the back of her hair and he turns his head inward to kiss her head lightly. They stand there silently, wrapped up in each other, while Jim traces soft circles on her back. She was feeling everything, all at once. Fear, worry, and uncertainty, but somehow also, and maybe moreso, safety, comfort, and security. She bites back tears as long as she can, but hearing him gently say, “I’ve got you” into her hair proves to be too much. She squeezes him tighter and lets the tears fall.

They finally break apart and he takes her face in his hands, brushing his thumb across her cheek. She sniffles and looks at him.

“I’m okay.”

“You sure?” he asks softly.

She nods and offers a smile. He tilts her head up with his knuckles and presses his lips on her forehead, lingering there long enough for her to involuntarily close her eyes and lean into him. “It’s just...a lot. But I’m fine. I’m glad I’m here.”

“Me too,” he smiles, leaning back to brush a stray curl from her face. “Now how about that grilled cheese?”

They sit together at the small table in Jim’s kitchen, shoulders brushing occasionally as they eat their sandwiches. She stares at him after he takes a giant bite.

“What?” he asks through cheese and bread, shifting his eyes around.

Pam sets her sandwich on the plate and picks at the crust with her fingers.

“I called it off today. The wedding.”

Jim’s smile fades as he swallows sets his own sandwich down. “Yeah,” he clears his throat. “I guessed.” He holds up his left hand and wiggles his ring finger. “I just didn’t want to push you to talk about it if you weren’t ready to.”

Her heart flutters. In true Jim fashion, he is always putting her needs and feelings above anything else. She places her hand on his thigh and nods.

“I’m ready.”

They move their conversation to the couch in the living room. She sits facing toward him and takes his hand in hers and she recounts the day's events. She tells him how she felt after getting home the night before, how suddenly she felt out of place in her own life and desperately wanted to get out. How that, even though she’s terrified of change, this feels like the right thing to do. She admits she’s still scared, still a little unsure about her future or what comes next, but that she’s ready to figure it out. And she wants him there with her when she does.

While she’s speaking, Jim’s eyes never leave her. He lets her say everything she needs to say, never interrupting or trying to “fix” anything. He just listens. And the fact that truly being listened to feels like such a breath of fresh air, is only further confirmation to Pam that she made the right choice. The only regret she feels now is not realizing or believing sooner that she was actually worthy of being listened to.

Jim yawns, trying miserably to hide it, and Pam checks her watch. Somehow they had been talking for hours and it was now inching up on midnight.

"I'm so sorry. I should let you go to bed," she offers apologetically.

He quickly shakes his head and waves his hand. "Don't apologize. Please." His smile eases her worry. His hand rests back down on her knee. "I'm just happy you're here."

She rests her head on the back of the couch and looks at him as he inches slowly toward her. "Me too," she whispers.

Slowly, carefully, Jim presses his lips to hers. He pulls back slightly and Pam can almost see her own eyes reflected in his, now dark and deep. He seems to be asking a million questions through the silence, so she answers at least one of them by leaning back in, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and kissing him without any reservation. It had only been about 24 hours since she last kissed him, but right now it felt like water in a drought, the only thing she needed to sustain her.

Jim runs his hand up her thigh as he deepens the kiss. The kisses are passionate and intense, but she swears she can feel his smile behind every one of them. His other hand glides up the side of her body and around her back, and instantly she needs to be closer to him. She turns her hips and swings a leg over his lap, straddling him as he leans back into the couch, pulling her with him as he does. She slips tongue against his and he lets out a sound that she can only describe as primal. He grips her hips and tugs her into him. She moans into his mouth and begins running a trail of kisses down his jaw and neck as he squeezes her hips with his fingers, digging in, clinging to her like she might somehow slip away.

She slowly moves her fingers between them to his belt buckle as she nips at his ear and back to his mouth. He groans, and to her surprise, grabs her hands to still them. He rests his head against hers and swallows hard.

"I want to," he starts with a whisper. "But," he leans back and cups her cheek. "Considering everything, I think we should take things…"

"Slow," she finishes quietly for him.

He squeezes his eyes shut in a grimace. "Yeah. Just for now."

She leans in and gives him a chaste kiss. "I agree."

His brows furrow. "You do?"

Pam slides off him and tries not to notice the way he discretely pulls a pillow over his lap to hide the evidence of her affect on him. "Yeah, I do. Probably best for both of us to...ease into things."

She rests her head on his shoulder and he kisses her temple lightly. "Then let's get you to bed, kid."

He pushes himself off the couch and turns to offer his hand to help her up. She takes it and doesn't let go until they reach his room upstairs. Leaning against the doorway, he looks at her with so much adoration that she briefly reconsiders the discussion they had just minutes ago and contemplates whether "going slow" includes grabbing him by the belt loops and dragging him into the bed behind them.

"I'm just down the hall if you need anything," he says, gesturing with his thumb.

"Thank you," she replies with a soft smile. "Goodnight, Jim."

"Sweet dreams, Beesly," he winks, then turns down the hallway.

Pam watches him until he enters Mark's room, then pivots around to look into her own sleeping quarters. It looks exactly the same as it did the night of Jim's BBQ when she had snuck away from the group only to be caught by the doc crew with Jim closely behind them. She didn't know what had compelled her to go there that night. Maybe it was that subconsciously she didn't want to hear Jim talk to Ryan about Katy anymore and his room was the nearest refuge, but deeper down she thinks it was probably because she had the innate desire to know everything about him. To unearth all that made up her best friend. She had found his yearbook and as the dorky little picture of James Halpert stared back at her, she remembers wondering, if only for a millisecond, how her life might be different if she had been high school sweethearts with that kid instead of the one she was still with at the time.

But she wasn't with her high school sweetheart anymore. That thought struck her as she sat on the bed and smoothed the blanket down. For the first time in her entire adult life, she wasn't with Roy. She wasn't with Roy and she was currently sitting on Jim's bed, missing him even though he was just on the other side of the hallway. The juxtaposition of those thoughts was a little hard to grapple with. She felt nervousness to be ending such a long chapter of her life, as anyone would, but also couldn't be more ready to start on the next page with Jim. It is strange to mourn a life she knows she doesn't want anymore while simultaneously wanting to move forward in a completely new direction.

After she changes into the one pair of pajamas she had packed in her small duffel bag, she goes into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take her contacts out. What she finds is Jim brushing his own teeth in a pair of plaid pajamas and gray t-shirt. She lifts her toothbrush and toothpaste.

"Care if I join you?"

Jim smiles over his toothbrush and opens his arms to welcome her in. She smiles, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye while she puts the toothpaste on the brush, and they silently brush their teeth together side by side, occasionally stealing glances and toothpaste-filled smirks. It felt like a glimpse into the possible future--getting ready for bed together, brushing elbows in a tiny bathroom. Only she can't wipe the thought that she wishes they would be retreating to the same bedroom afterward.

They finish up, Pam takes out her contacts, and hesitantly she puts her glasses on. Luckily, she packed her "cuter" pair, but she had always been a little self conscious wearing her glasses. Roy had made a few remarks about them when they moved in together and apparently those comments stuck with her.

Jim looks up at her and cocks his head, a smile playing on his lips.

"I know," Pam rolls her eyes. "Dorky."

Jim's face twists in confusion and he shakes his head. "I was going to say you look good in glasses." He reaches forward and straightens them jokingly. "Like, really good."

She blushes and shrugs. "Thank you."

He smiles back, then points out the door. "I guess I should…probably…"

"Oh, yeah. Me too."

They both leave the bathroom and take one more glance over their shoulders at each other before turning into their separate rooms. Pam pulls the covers down and slides between the sheets. She turns to her side and is met with a familiar smell from the pillow. It's Jim. More specifically, his aftershave. It was a smell she has come to know well from all the times he has leaned over her shoulder to point to a Solitaire move, or when she has moved in closer to him during a meeting to whisper something about Michael or Dwight, or when she is inadvertently pushed closer to him in a full elevator at 5:00 on a Friday. It was borderline intoxicating at this point to be in his bed, between sheets he probably didn't have time to wash, smelling his aftershave, all while the feel of his hands and lips were still tingling beneath the surface of her skin.

She rolls to her back and closes her eyes tightly. Taking it slow was the right choice. She had just gotten out of a decade-long relationship not more than 12 hours ago. It made sense to take a little space before jumping right into something new. So, for the next hour she tossed and turned, willing sleep to come, counting sheep that slowly morphed into yogurt lids, jellybeans, and then ultimately floppy-haired salesmen. She sighs deeply, then grabs her phone.

You awake?

She sets the phone lightly on the desk next to her and stares at it, not sure what she will even say if he is awake and responds. It stays still and silent until she hears light footsteps coming down the hall. Her stomach tightens and flutters in anticipation as the door creaks open. Jim's head pokes through.

"Can't sleep either?"

She sits up on her elbow and shrugs, shaking her head. "Guess I'm not used to sleeping alone."

That was a lie. There were countless nights where Roy passed out on the couch or was too drunk to make it home from Darryl's or Kenny's. But she says it anyway.

Jim smiles and looks down at the floor, before walking into the room and toward the bed. He flicks his head.

"Well, scoot over then."

She shimmies closer to the wall and Jim lifts the covers to sink down next to her, laying his arm across the pillow, inviting her to rest her head on him. She nestles under his chin and smiles against his chest as she feels him trace circles on her arm.

"Better?" he whispers against her hair.

She nods in agreement and suddenly, in the comfort of his arms and with the sound of his heart beneath her, she drifts easily off to sleep.

***

She feels him stir behind her and realizes they've shifted positions in sleep and now her back is flush against his chest with his arm draped around her waist. She's not fully awake--just awake enough to register the way being next to him stirs something within her. Sleepily, she runs her hand down his arm and intertwines her fingers with his, scooting back so she is even closer to him. Jim wakes slightly, and squeezes her fingers with his. She hears him let out a low hum as his nose brushes past her hair on her neck and places a warm kiss just above her shoulder, causing a warmth to pool low in her belly.

Almost subconsciously, she guides their joined hands under her shirt and nearly shutters when she feels his skin on hers. Pulling her tighter, he lifts his head to spread more kisses on her neck and shoulders, all while exploring her with his hands. She turns in his arms to face him, her senses now fully awakened even if her mind isn't quite there. She looks at him, his eyes still closed, not fully awake either, and runs her hands through his tousled hair, pulling his face toward hers. Their lips meet slowly at first, almost as if by accident, as Jim's hand travels up her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Pam deepens the kiss, joining her tongue with his, pressing her body impossibly closer to his, wrapping her leg over him. Then he turns them slowly so he's on top of her, running his hands up her arms and pinning them above her head against the pillow when he finds her hands. He kisses her more, each kiss deeper than the next, as she involuntarily bucks her hips against him, craving more.

He pulls back for only a moment and she sees his eyes for the first time. She's now fully awake, body and mind, and she dissolves when he seems to see every part of her with just one glance. It's then that she realizes that this isn't jumping into something new. She knows this man, has probably loved him longer than even she herself knows, and she was ready to let him be the one to love her.

He gives her a wicked smile and begins kissing along her jawline and down her neck while his left hand creeps up her shirt. She dips her fingertips into the back of his pajama pants and lets out a soft whimper as his lips and fingers caress all the right places.

"What about taking it slow?" she manages to ask in a playful whisper, letting him know with her hands that she wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon.

She feels his smile and a low, breathy laugh against her neck. He presses his lips to the spot just below her ear.

"I can take it as slow as you want," he says in a husky whisper, right in her ear, and she unravels, fully and finally understanding what it means to be his and what she has been missing all this time.

***

It takes a moment for her surroundings to come into focus as she stirs the next morning. It's the bare planes of Jim's shoulders and back that bring her from dreaming to reality, and it's a reality she can get used to. She bites her lower lip and smiles to herself before slinking an arm around him and kissing him between the shoulder blades. Her hand is met with his and her turns to face her, a giant grin displayed on his lips. Settling in next to her he brings her fingers to his smiling lips.

"Morning."

She buries her face in the pillow, unable to hide the cascading happiness she feels, maybe for the first time ever, from waking up next to someone after a night that can only be described as magical.

"Good morning," she whispers, kissing him softly.

Her cell phone vibrates on the desk, startling them both. Jim reaches for it and hands it to her. Flipping it open, her heart sinks. There was another reality she had been choosing to ignore, and now it was flooding in, invading the perfect reality she had constructed upon waking up next to Jim.

She has 6 missed calls and 17 unread messages, all from people tied to the Anderson name.

Her hand travels to her forehead and she looks at Jim, her own worry reflected in his expression.

"Everything okay?" Jim asks, sitting up.

Pam looks back to her phone.

"Roy must have told his family."

She swallows hard and looks back to Jim.

"And they're not happy."





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