Hello darlings! This is my first attempt at an Office fic. :} I'm sorry if there are any continuity errors... I'm only an occasional watcher. I'd like to warn y'all that the rating may change in the future. I envision a lemon perhaps... Currently, I'm way too skittish to keep something like that on my computer. But! It may happen.
Disclaimer! I don't own the Office, Jim, Pam, Roy, or anyone else... though I wish I owned Jim and Pam. What can I say? I love Jam. X)
Pam Beesly rubbed her eyes. She knew she had just smudged the minor amount of make-up present on her face, but she didn't much care. She was home now, with no one to see her. Roy walked into their apartment, glancing at her. Okay, almost no one here to see her.
"D'you have a bad day?" he asked gruffly. Pam knew that Roy was making a great effort in this. He didn't care for feelings or niceties. When she was first getting to know him, she thought Roy would be a teddy bear: a big guy who was secretly a softy. But now, nearly ten years later, she knew that wasn't true. Roy was a big guy who liked to drink and make out. And she was going to marry him.
It was on days like this that she really, really didn't want to be herself. She wanted to be the cute, naïve little receptionist, Erin, or the purse lady, Katy, that Jim seemed to like so much. It was on days like this that she just wanted to be wrapped in someone's arms, to be comforted and loved. And she knew that she was not going to get the tender care she needed from Roy.
"Why do you ask?" she replied frostily. She couldn't help it. She wanted a hug that she knew she would never get from him, unless he would get some groping in the deal. She felt nauseous.
"You look like shit," he said bluntly. She sent him an icy glance and remembered her make-up that she smudged right before he walked in.
"Well I'm sorry if I can't be myself in my own home!" Pam didn't mean to snap; Roy had been nice in asking how she was. She cooled down a little, but flared up again when she remembered he just said she looked like shit. She stood up abruptly from their small kitchen table and grabbed her keys.
"I'm going out," she said angrily. Her suit jacket was unbuttoned and her make-up was smeared. She was suddenly certain that she did look like shit. However, she decided she didn't care—he still shouldn't have said it. She stomped towards the door when a large hand landed on her shoulder.
"Pam, Pammy, look, I'm sorry," Roy said tonelessly, as if he were a tad annoyed he had to apologize. "You look awesome, I promise." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. Pam knew he didn't mean it, but appreciated his effort. He kissed her gently on the lips, then he made his way down to her neck. His hands quickly worked on her jacket and button-up shirt. She wondered how he could possibly be so nimble with his huge, meaty hands.
She awoke in the dim morning light. It was just before dawn, she knew. She wondered why she had woken, but then heard the toilet flush from their tiny shared bathroom. Roy must be up. He had to be in to work about an hour before her, since he worked in the warehouse. She usually would drag herself out of bed with him and make him breakfast.
For some reason, she couldn't bear the idea of getting up yet again to make a breakfast that he would slurp down, chewing with his mouth open. And he wouldn't even thank her before he left, she knew.
Pam sighed gently and tried to go back to sleep.
"Pam?" That would be Roy.
Pam kept still. Maybe if he thought she was still sleeping, he would leave her alone. She just wanted to sleep, to take a shower, to drink some water. She had slept with him last night. Apparently, that was his idea of a good apology to her. But he couldn't know how wrong he was. She felt like she had been used. If she had more faith in his intelligence, Pam would have guessed that Roy made her angry on purpose, just so he could sleep with her. But she knew he wasn't that much of a schemer. Or that smart. But it all came down to one thing.
Sleeping with Roy made Pam feel dirty. Roy made her feel dirty.
"Pam? Pam!" Roy shook her shoulder, 'waking' her. She put on a bemused, tired face. "Pam, I've got to leave soon, and I need breakfast," he said in what he obviously thought was a kind voice. Pam's cheeks flared with anger. He was going to wake her at… she glanced at the clock on her nightstand… 4:03 in the morning for breakfast! He couldn't make it for himself! She glared at him, and purposefully rolled over, as if going back to sleep. As if.
"Oh Pam, don't be that way…" Roy muttered softly as he leaned down to kiss her neck. She winced slightly at his stubble scratching the sensitive skin. "What's gotten into you lately?"
This was the last straw. She would not let him use her for sex over and over again.
"Nothing has gotten into me," Pam said in a venomous voice, shoving Roy off of her, "I've just learned not to take shit from assholes." She glared daggers at him.
"Fine," he said, obviously annoyed, but also tempted to take her seriously. Pam never, ever swore. He was already dressed and cleaned up for work. He hadn't shaved, but he'd never felt the need to do that. Realizing he was ready for work, Pam made up her mind.
"You should go," she said in a scathing tone. She was not going to apologize or give into his 'seducing.' "You'll be late for work." He seemed to realize the truth in her words, and turned his back, roughly grabbing his lunch and slamming the door behind him.
Pam dropped herself onto the bed. Before she knew it, she was in tears. Why had she snapped at him? He was just following a routine. She should be nicer to him—she was going to marry him, after all.
Pamela Anderson. She could see it.
And she wasn't sure if she liked what she saw.
Without meaning to, Pam thought of Jim. Jim, who shared his secret games and tricks with her, always brightening her day, being so kind to her. And then there was Roy, who was constantly trying to 'get some' in public, as if trying to show off, almost. It wasn't about her, it was always about him.
And damn it all, Pam wanted something to be about her for once.
