Can't Forget You

By Carrie

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: This is set right after Diwali. It's a little Jim/Karen in the beginning, but come on, it's all about Jim and Pam. Enjoy, and please review so I know if I should keep going!

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Chapter 1: Respectable

Jim awoke to an unfamiliar clamoring coming from the kitchen. Wait, he thought, prying one eye open. Not his kitchen. He groaned and slowly peeled himself off the couch. He was still fully dressed in his sweat-stained work clothes from yesterday. His head was pounding and the echo of Jaeger still stung the back of his throat. In other words, he felt like death.

"'Morning," Karen called from the kitchen.

He ran his hands through his hair and braced himself to stand. Stretching out his tall frame, he lumbered into the kitchen. He took a seat at one of the bar stools and stared at Karen. "This is entirely unfair. How come I feel like this," he gestured to his rumpled clothes and eyes he was sure were bloodshot, "And you are…fine?" He said, taking in her freshly ironed work clothes and shiny hair.

She laughed. "Because you are a little girl who can't hold her liquor, and I…" she hesitated before taking pity on him, "dumped all my shots into the trashcan," she said sheepishly before sliding a mug over to him.

Jim's eyes widened, "You didn't! I knew it! I knew you were up to something." He nodded a thanks as he took a sip of his coffee. "Sneaky…very sneaky," he chuckled.

"Well only you and Andy are brilliant enough to take 12 Jaeger shots with no ride home in sight. Oh and I so enjoyed your little performance last night. You guys put the Indigo Girls to shame."

"Really?" he shook his head and laughed, not wanting to get into why he knew any Indigo Girls songs. "So how was it that I ended up crashing on your couch? Thanks, by the way," he added.

"Anytime," she said, smiling widely. "Well, after you bit it trying to ride your bike home, I decided to take pity on you and drive you home. Only you passed out in the back and couldn't tell me where you lived. Has anyone ever told you that you're a very pathetic drunk?"

"Yes actually," he groaned and rested his head on the counter, "many people."

She turned around and popped some bread in the toaster. She glanced at her watch. "So, it is 7:15. Would you like a ride to your place or did you want to…bike?"

"Hey!" Jim exclaimed, mock-offended. "Don't say it like that. I'll have you know I am saving money and getting exercise by biking. You're just jealous."

"You're right. I am jealous. I wish I could come into work looking and smelling like a dog," she teased. "I guess I'll just have to go like this." She shrugged and grabbed the toast and gestured to Jim, "Want some?"

"Definitely, thanks."

She smiled and put a plate in front of him. He watched her move around the kitchen, getting butter and jam from the fridge, putting more bread in the toaster. He really had grown to like her. She was a little intense sometimes, but he knew that she liked him. They'd been flirting – building the foundation for a relationship, but he couldn't help but compare their every interaction to he and Pam.

Maybe it was because for so long Pam was off limits, that they had become friends. Not a day went by that he hadn't loved having her as his friend, and not a day went by that he didn't wish they'd become something more. With Karen, he was very aware of the fact that he was trying to build a friendship, and she was trying to start something else He worried, though, that if they continued down this road, he might find himself dating her.

"Do you want anything else?" He voice knocked him out of his thoughts.

"No, thanks. I should probably get home and change. Maybe look presentable for work today?"

"Want a ride?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

The ride to his house was fine—quiet because he was still hung-over. She asked him if he liked his neighborhood, it was alright. She asked him what kind of music he wanted to listen to, he didn't care. He felt bad that he didn't have much to say to her because he knew she was trying. Trying, he thought.

Maybe that was the problem. With Karen, she was making a genuine effort to attract him. She was great – no doubt, but he knew Pam was great without her having to show him.

He groaned and put his head in his hands. He felt awful for holding it against Karen that she was pursuing him. He should be flattered. He should just go with it. When he gets out of the car, he should thank her profusely for saving his life, letting him crash on her couch, and driving him home and then ask her if she wants to go to dinner this weekend. He should just bite the bullet and do it.

"You okay? I warned you last night – no puking." She was looking over at him, concerned.

He sat up. "Yeah I'm good. Oh, it's this street, on the left."

They pulled into his driveway and Jim prepared himself. "So, even though you cheated on Order Form Consolidation Shot Night, I'm gonna let it slide since you, you know, saved my life and stuff."

"That's very generous of you, thanks. And you'll keep my little indiscretion a secret?" she laughed.

"Only if you'll keep my low tolerance a secret."

"Oh come on, don't feel bad. 12 Jaeger shots – that's definitely respectable," she appeased him.

His heart gave a lurch. Respectable. Suddenly he was not in the car with Karen, but on the phone with Pam talking about typing speeds. He heard her laugh – that's respectable. He knew then that it wasn't the time to do anything with Karen. Maybe he was just chickening out – but in his alcohol/Pam induced haze, his head was way too cloudy to figure anything out right now. He couldn't possibly ask Karen out when the only thing on his mind was Pam.

"Okay, well I will see you in," he looked at his watch, "crap—40 minutes. Hopefully." He opened the door and eased out of the car. "Thanks again, for everything. You have a very comfy couch." He felt bad about the sad smile that came to Karen's face – he'd seen it before and he knew he'd probably see it again.

"No problem, see you later."

They said their goodbyes and Jim waved from his doorstep as she started to drive away. Inside his house he took a deep breath and tried to figure out all he had to do. He emptied his pockets onto the counter and it was only then that he saw he had a new text message.

From Pam.

He took a shaky breath and read it.

You are the ONLY one who will understand this: I am at a traditional Indian celebration where Michael has just gotten up on stage and proposed to Carol. The sad thing is, I'm not even sure she knew they were dating. Your thoughts?

He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all and pictured the exact expression of pity and hilarity that would have been on Pam's face. He almost wished he was back in Scranton.

He looked at the time stamp which read 10:42pm. Where was he then? Passed out at his desk? In Karen's car? On her couch? He fought the surge of guilt that accompanied that thought. He had nothing to feel guilty about.

He stripped off his clothes and walked into the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it could go. The water soothed his sore muscles, but could do nothing for his thoughts. He liked Stamford – he really did. Slightly less bizarre people, more money, better opportunities – he couldn't complain. But every time he started to be content with his new life, or—God forbid—move on, Pam found a way to sneak back into his life.

For a moment he felt angry. He was mad at her for not letting him get over her. Did she really think that they were going to be friends now? After everything that had happened, she couldn't possibly think they'd just pick up where they left off.

He knew he was being ridiculous. Pam wasn't doing anything wrong. She was just being herself, and he couldn't help it if he loved her.

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Please review! Let me know if I should keep going -- I'll appreciate any feedback you can give me!