It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Pam listened to her feet hit against the hardwood floor as she exited the warm comfort of the inside of the boat. Thump, thump, thump. It sounded to her a lot like her heartbeat. Hollow. Frantic. Lost. This was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of her life, one of the moments she was supposed to look back on and treasure. All the moment ended up being was ruined by her big, stupid oaf-like fiancé.

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"How about June 10th?" Roy's voice boomed through the microphone. Distantly she heard applause, saw smiling face. Happy for her? Could they not see what was going on? Were they even watching? She slunk down further in her seat feeling the stares of everyone bore into her.

He was drunk. Trashed. Completely and utterly God damned wasted. His eyes were red, his speech was off-kilter. His smile dumb and glazed. He probably thought he was being the hero, thought she would be jumping up and down with joy. Did he know her at all? Why did she bother to even ask herself that, the answer was obvious.

Snorkel shot! Snorkel shot! Snorkel shot!

Pam cringed at the voice inside her head. Was she that bad that her own fiancé had to be drunk to set a date to spend the rest of his life with her? She listened to him. She was affectionate. She was caring. She took off his shoes when he passed out on the couch. She took care of him! And this is how he repaid her?

Enough was enough.

With a look she was sure no one in their audience could decipher she strode up to Roy. Vaguely, somewhere over the chant of snorkel shot she heard him say her name. In that short walk all of their relationship flashed through her mind. Him leaving her at that hockey game, him forgetting she was at work, him not asking her what she wanted, him abandoning her at The Dundies, him drunk, him refusing to set a date just yet, him at home in front of the television ignoring her while she cooked dinner, and now this.

She reached him and when she was standing in front of him she began to pull her ring off.

"Pammie? What're you doing?"

"Don't call me Pammie! You know I hate that, I've told you I hate it a several million times," she started off. Her voice was pitched dangerously low and hit a whisper shout in many spots, but as she continued the pitch grew louder and louder, the crowd more silent. "I've asked you to pick a date, I've asked you and asked you and asked you. You know what's different this time? It's not Captain Jack! You're not inspired! You're drunk! You shouldn't have to be inspired to want to marry your fiancé! That should be a prerequisite to getting engaged! You know I hate it when you get drunk, so you set the date drunk. You know I hate being a spectacle so you propose in front of a boat full of people. You know I hate it when you call me-"

"Pammie, come on. I've always called you..."

"We're done. You and I. This sham of an engagement. Done! I don't want to be with you anymore. In fact, I'm coming to realize I haven't wanted to be with you for a very long time. I want to be with someone mature, and someone sensitive. Yes, sensitive! And mature enough to know that being sensitive doesn't equal being gay! And most of all I want someone who wants to be with me. And you, God, you've made it so apparent in so many ways you never have."

Pam pressed her ring against his chest, and when his hand didn't move to take it out of her grasp she let it fall to the floor. She took one look around at the faces and saw people who looked shocked, people who looked disappointed, people who looked uncomfortable. All the faces had changed from happiness to something opposite. The only face that hadn't change was Jim's.

Embarrassed by her out burst, but not regretting it she hurried out into the cold without her jacket. Not thinking there was any way she could last outside in the cold. Not thinking that she would freeze. Not thinking about anything but the way her footsteps sounded hitting the hardwood floor as they hurried out of the boat to the safety of the dark night.

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"Pam?" Soft, testing, unsure. Jim's voice laced itself around her and started to wash away the emotional numb, the physical numb.

"Hey," her voice sounded small. It was easily lost in the sound of the water lapping against the boat. She couldn't even be really sure if he heard it. She turned to face him and found his eyes intent on her face.

"You ran out without your jacket." He held out her puffy, cream colored jacket. The jacket Roy had bought her, the jacket she hated but always wore with a smile on her face because he had actually remembered her birthday once upon a time.

"I don't want it." She knew it was stupid. She knew she would get pneumonia if she didn't put the ridiculous thing on. Her skin actually hurt from the cold, stung and burned. Pam was past this though, hidden deep somewhere inside.

"Pam, come on. It's freezing." He took a step towards her carefully. She laughed to herself thinking that he looked like a man approaching a rabid dog. Maybe he thought that she was going to yell at him too. For what she didn't know.

"Fine, give me the jacket." She took it out from his hands and he stepped back to where he was originally was. As soon as the fabric of her jacket touched her fingers all she could see was the flashes of Roy and how he mistreated her, and took advantage of her. And worse, how she let him. She balled up the coat and with a fury she wasn't used to tossed it overboard.

"Pam! That was your jacket!" All he received was an apathetic shrug. She turned her eyes quickly down to the water and watched the ugly, sleeping bag with arms drown in the water, it's fur floating loosely around it. "Pam, you have to go back inside then."

"I don't have to do anything, Jim. Would you just leave already?"

"No. I won't." She felt something warm slip around her. Something that smelt like Jim, and she couldn't help but breathe in the scent. As soon as it touched her, as soon of the smell surrounded her the tears started and she couldn't seem to stop them. It was his jacket. Roy had never, ever given her his jacket even when it was only slightly cold, and here was Jim sacrificing his in what felt like thirty below.

She slipped the jacket off her shoulders. She didn't deserve Jim. She didn't deserve his friendship, or his jacket. She didn't deserve him at all, and certainly not in the way she had tucked away in the far, far recess of her mind.

Pam turned to him and she couldn't stop the tears from running down her face. She held his jacket back out to him. "Take it. Please. Take your jacket back. Jim," she waited but he didn't move. She started to cry harder. "Jim. Jim. Please! Take your jacket back! Please!"

He moved forward, took his jacket and tucked her back into it like a child. He reached up the sleeve to grab her tiny hand, and tugged her towards a private room on the boat that he had seen Captain Jack enter with Meredith. When they arrived it was empty, and she was now crying in earnest.

Jim drew her against him and hugged her fiercely. This was not something they did. There was a rule, somewhere they both knew they should not touch. Knew that it would lead to things. Things she would've been blind not to see in his eyes, in his actions. Things he had to have been blind not to see from her. She melted into him, tried to become a part of him, tried to get lost in the heat that was still somehow radiating from him.

"I'm sorry," she said as she pulled away.

"Don't apologize," Jim said as he wiped his thumbs under her eyes. His voice was a rich whisper, and she realized just how very close they were. Instead of pulling back like she would've done so many months ago, years ago, she hugged him again. Tighter. She felt his body a little rigid with surprise but eventually his large hands were running up and down her back.

"I'm alone." It sounded pitiful but she couldn't stop the words from escaping her mouth.

"You're not alone. You have me, Pam. Always." His eyes were looking into hers again and she could see that he was trying to convey his love, his feelings. She knew this. Deep down somewhere she wasn't ready to admit yet. Afraid she was not good enough for him, she hadn't been good enough for Roy.

"I've been alone for so long. And I'm tired. I'm so tired, Jim."

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Jim captured her fingers with his again, moved his thumb in soothing circles around her pulse. Her breath huffed out of her like a child who had cried themself to sleep, found solace in their dreams. And a part of her knew that was what Jim had been to her for so long. A distant dream.

"Pam, I wish... I was always... you're not alone," he repeated firmly. He took her hand and placed it over his heart. "Do you feel that? My heartbeat. My skin. My body. I'm here Pam. I'm with you."

"No you're not. You're with Katy."

"Pam... I broke up with Katy tonight. And you and I... we're friends." Soft, testing, unsure.

"Apparently," she heard herself repeating Angela's words. She had no idea how right Angela had been. Pam herself had no idea of the full extent of her feeling for him because she hadn't allowed herself to feel them. But right here, right now all there was, was Jim.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You see the way I look at you. I know you do. I know you know what I mean. And for so long I've denied it. I've pushed it down. I've refused to look at what I feel. I've always been alone because it was never you. All you've been to me is some dream that comforts me."

"Pam, what're you -"

"Jim. I love you. I've been with Roy. And that was wrong, I knew it was wrong. I've been so afraid to say something. Afraid I've been misreading you. Even more afraid I haven't."

"Why would you be afraid of me being in love with you?" A steady hand reached out and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"I don't deserve you. I didn't deserve Roy."

"No one deserves Roy," he joked half-heartedly and Pam couldn't help but laugh. "Pam. You're wonderful. You're beautiful. You're funny."

"I'm in love with you."

"I love you too, and could you stop sounding so horrified when you say it?"

"You love... me?"

"You already knew," he reminded her. She nodded. She had always known. Everything, every step had lead her to this moment. To this room. To this man. To this love.

He leaned down and his lips touched hers. Explored. Teased. They took each other like it was the first time, like it was the last time, like it had happened many times before. Teeth, lips, tongues. Clashing, melding, separating. Hard, soft, passionate, teasing.

Together. At last.

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She listened to the sound of their feet hitting the deck as they walked back into the party. She was afraid of the eyes, afraid of what Roy might say, afraid of what she might say. But Jim's hand was still wrapped around her's, still present. Still here. And that was enough.

She listened to the sound of their feet. Two sets of footsteps. Two heartbeats warm, hopeful, and full.