The MOAB

Note: I don't own jack when it comes to anything Archer-related...I'm just a fan of the show who was severely disappointed at the total lack of stories...this is an exploration of what would happen if Archer and Pam kept seeing each other, and what it could become. No smut to speak of yet, maybe some in later chapters just for kicks. Either way, rated M for MSG, THE FLAVAH ENHANCAH!

Chapter One: Chicken and Waffles

"No...don't wanna wake up, no..."
Sterling Malory Archer, world famous secret agent, muttered sleepily. He awoke in his bed, very, very hungover, and very, very satisfied.

Archer yawned, and turned over on his side to see the (massive) warm body snoring next to him; the large tattoo on her back and perpetually-well kept blonde hair indicated who his bed companion was.

"Oh man, not again...hey, Pam, wake up you big...whatever. Jesus, it smells like a chicken and waffles factory vomited on a distillery in here", Archer grumbled while shoving Pam's giant sleeping form off the king-sized bed.

She hit the hardwood floor with an audible thud.

"OW! Geez, all right, I'm up!", said Pam, picking herself up. "Hey, there's still some of that Glengoolie Blue shit left...wanna swig to clear the cobwebs?" She produced a bottle from under the bed, and twisted the cork out.

Pam took a decent sip of the expensive scotch, then offered the partially-full bottle to Archer, who nodded and accepted it eagerly, pouring the warm, soothing liquor down his throat.

Pam Poovey, the former human resources director for Isis-turned-field agent candidate, and, notably, the least physically attractive woman in the office, had been sleeping with the debonair top agent on and off discreetly for almost a year now. They made unlikely lovers, but when they were alone, nothing could hold a candle to the unbelievable sex they had.

Archer, who has had countless gorgeous women throughout his life (starting with his Brazilian au pair at age 12), never thought he'd find himself addicted to fucking his frumpy, bisexual former HR director.

Whenever they were in bed (or bathroom stall, or space station, or wherever else they could slip away to in secret), Pam would do such incredible things to Sterling's body, that his mind would simply shut down, unable to process the insane amount of pleasure that woman could cause...

"Hey, don't bogart the booze! We gotta get to the office soon, so get your pants on and let's go already!"
Archer snapped out of his thoughts and set the nearly empty bottle down on the nightstand next to him.

Coughing a bit, Sterling sat up in bed, resting a hand against his temple. The headache that was haunting him was subsiding after drinking a bit, but still throbbed enough to make it's presence known. He turned to Pam, and, in a rare moment of seriousness, took her hand in his.

"Pam, we gotta do something about this."

Pam, confused and unsettled by this unfamiliar tone from her lover (or fuck buddy, as she liked to call him), sat down on the bed next to Archer.

"Um, okay...about what? You all right?"

"No, Pam, I'm not all right. Look, you know that you're the best sex I've ever had, and, well, I've compared you to a LOT of others, and you're still the best out of all of them. Shit, compared to you, Lana was like a crusty gym sock, and she's...well, Lana." Archer trailed off on that statement, remembering how much he used to adore that well-endowed, brown body years ago...after quickly gathering his resolve, he continued.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say, Pam, is that I think we should-"

Just then, Archer's phone started ringing on the nightstand; the caller ID said it was Mallory.

"Aw, son of a shit-snacking whore! We're late! Christ, Mallory is gonna bite our heads off...think she'll be suspicious about us if we show up late together?"

Pam stood up and grabbed her purse. Already fully dressed, she looked down at Sterling, who was still naked and in bed.

He just stared at her with blank, ice blue, bloodshot eyes. The phone rang a few more times, then went to the answering machine.

"What the hell is wrong with you, bro? Did I give you brain damage last night or something?" Pam was really getting worried about Archer...it wasn't like the suave super agent to be so...out of it.

"No. I'm, fine, I guess...my head is just killing me...but Pam, seriously, what I was trying to say is that, I-uh, I think it's time we go public about us."

Pam dropped her purse and beamed, "REALLY? Oh wow, you mean we'd be like a real couple, and I can rub Cheryl's skinny little bird beak in it? And make Lana crazy from, well, whatever reason she'd find? Yaaayy! Hell yeah, let's-"

"ON ONE CONDITION, Pam! Jesus, jump to conclusions much?" Archer said while pulling on a pair of pants.

Pam's enthusiasm halted; this was more the kind of Archer she was used to.

"Oh geez...well, what's the one condition?"

Archer finished buttoning his shirt and reached for a dark blue silk tie tossed carelessly over a nearby lamp.

"The condition is, Pam, if you really want to be my girlfriend, like go out on actual dates in public and all that shit, you need to lose about 80 pounds. Seriously, you look like a barge."

Pam's jaw dropped in disgust and anger, and grabbed her purse off the floor. "WHAT?! A BARGE? Hey, fuck you, you scrawny little momma's boy! I'm who I am: a sexy, robust, real woman, not one of your dumb, rail-thin, fake-titted bimbos like-"

Archer cut off Pam before she could finish, pointing angrily.

"No! Do NOT say her name, Pam, or I WILL kill you!"

Narrowing her eyes in defiance, she uttered, "...like Katya."

Pam dropped her purse again, and braced herself for the imminent impact.

"I WARNED YOU, PAM!" Archer sprinted at full force across the bedroom towards Pam, intending to tackle her to the floor...instead of ramming his head and shoulders into Pam's solar plexus as planned, Archer slipped on a stray waffle soaked in chicken grease and fell squarely on his face.

Laughing at Archer's pathetic crumpled form, Pam walked over to the fallen agent, and helped him up.

"Did that knock the wind outta your sails, or am I gonna have to hogtie you up and carry you in the office like a briefcase?"

Archer, still aching from the fall, stood up slowly while leaning on Pam's large, strong shoulder.

"Shut up, you big idiot...I'm fine now. But seriously, don't bring up Katya. I mean, when your hot, Russian fiancée returns from the dead as a hot, Russian cyborg, then goes off and screws your bionic douchebag arch-enemy on what was supposed to be your wedding day, you tend to not want to think about any of that. Christ my head hurts...ow."
Archer groaned and sat on his bed again, taking the bottle of Glengoolie Blue in his hand once more.

"Yeah yeah, I'm sorry...but don't fuck with me about my weight, most of this is muscle anyway" Pam smiled and flexed her massive arm to prove her point. "So...didja still wanna go public about us, or were you just bein' a dick?"

Finishing off the last of the scotch in a single gulp, Archer tossed the now-empty bottle to the floor.

"Nah...guess I was just being a dick. Speaking of dick...we're gonna be late anyway, and showing up even later will drive Mother nuts. How about you strip down and get back in bed with me?"Archer said while he unbuttoned his shirt, allowing his half-zipped pants to drop haphazardly after undoing his belt.

Clearly disappointed, but not one to reject easy pickings, Pam sighed, and started undressing.

"You're an asshole, y'know that?" Pam kicked off her skirt and climbed up onto the bed, crawling up to meet Archer's smirking, self-satisfied face.

"Yeah, I know. Now shut up and take care of this monster already." Sterling pointed down below his waist.

Pam did not disobey that request.


*ring ring*
"Mmm, y'ello? Sterling Archer speaking."
"Dammit, Sterling! You're over two hours late! You know we had a field agent meeting this morning at 8am sharp! I swear to God, your lack of punctuality is starting to influence the entire office! Why, even that fat lummox Pam hasn't shown up ye-"
"HA! Voicemail! You know what to do, stupid."
*BEEP*

Mallory crushed the tumbler of scotch in her hand and hung up the phone.