A/N: Please note that this chapter contains spoilers for 'New Boss'. You have been warned. =) Thank you all so much for your terrific feedback on this story. I'm glad that you are enjoying their naughtiness as much as they are!

Disclaimer:I claim no ownership of these characters, this show, or anything having to do with it other than the DVDs. I do love them, though, and I thank the creators from the bottom of my heart even though my mind is currently in the gutter.

Class Acts, Part 1

Pam looked up from her desk and saw Jim staring blankly at his computer screen, his index finger gliding over his full bottom lip, lost in thought. She sighed as she took in the defeated slump of his shoulders and yearned to straighten his slightly askew bow tie. He looked up without moving his head, and their eyes met. Immediately, Jim sat up a little straighter, ran a hand down his pleated shirtfront and flashed a smile. Pam pressed her lips together, wishing he wouldn't do that. She knew that smile. That was his easy, 'everything's gonna be okay' smile. He only used it when he was afraid that things would not be okay.

She reached for a paper clip, surreptitiously unfolding the thin metal under her desk as she stared at her monitor, trying to mask the fact that she couldn't keep her eyes off of him. He looked so beautiful. The forty minutes he spent primping and preening that morning had paid off. Not that he didn't always look beautiful to her, he did. But this was a different Jim. Classy Jim. Tuxedo Jim. He had stepped out of their bedroom that morning and struck a pose, leaning up against the doorframe with casual elegance, his arms crossed over his chest, the stripe down the leg of his pants accenting their length. Pam had literally had to grip the strap on her purse tighter to keep from launching herself at him. This was the same Jim she would be looking at when she said 'I do', and in that moment, all she wanted to do was him.

He had flashed that cocky smile, letting her know that he could read her mind, and then gestured gallantly to the door as he said simply, "Shall we?"

And it had been so fun. Just like the old days. Dwight was poised on the brink of implosion, and Michael was lapping up all of the 'classiness' Jim could dish out. Pam had smiled her way through the morning. She saw the other women in the office staring at him, but Pam couldn't bring herself to mind. She didn't blame them. She whiled away the party planning committee meeting by picturing herself ripping open the studs on his shirt with one powerful yank. She watched as he struck pose after pose, sometimes propping one foot up on a chair and leaning onto his knee as he pondered the infinite possibilities for injecting some real 'class' into Michael's anniversary celebration. She wanted to leap from her seat saying, "Hold it right there! Just like that!" but, she didn't think that Dwight and Michael would appreciate watching her drop to her knees and unzip those inky black pants with her teeth. But she wanted to. Oh boy, she wanted to.

And then, Charles Minor showed up. As soon as it became apparent that this man was Michael's new boss, Jim's eyes grew wide and round and the sexy, arrogant swagger that had buoyed her through the morning disappeared. And Pam wanted it back. She also wanted him to stop trying so hard. But he couldn't help himself. It was almost too painful for her to watch. He was better than that. She wanted to take him and shake him. She wanted to plant him in his chair, tell him to sit down, shut up, and just do what he does, and this guy would naturally see how great he was. But Jim couldn't do that. He kept going back for more. Inevitably sinking deeper and deeper with each attempt to make things right.

Jim had a tendency to try to make everything right. It's just the way he was, she knew that. But Pam also knew that there was something more to it. She could see it in his eyes, that little shade of doubt lurking in the green. Like the flecks of gold that lit them with hope; that doubt lingered there, a little darker, and a tad murkier. It gave those beautiful eyes a depth that sometimes scared her. It scared her because she knew that she had put it there.

Several times in the past few months, Jim had made comments about having to pay a mortgage. Truth be told, it rankled her a bit. She felt like it made it sound like she wasn't contributing. They had a joint checking account now. Both of their names were on it as clear as day. Sure, there had only been one box of checks printed, but that was because she knew that soon she wouldn't be signing things Pam Beesly, but rather Pam Halpert. But joint account not withstanding, Jim made it a point to always cover the household expenses out of his salary. If she thought that he was some kind of Eisenhower era throwback, there would have already been a showdown. But she knew deep down that it wasn't chauvinism that made him do it. It was fear.

Those dark flecks of doubt in his eyes were the fear that it would all disappear. He was afraid she'd bolt. He was afraid she'd change her mind, tell him that he wasn't the one, that she didn't love him like he loved her. And, although she loved him with an intensity that she never imagined herself capable of, Pam also knew that he loved her more than that. Whoever said that it was better to be the loved one than the lover, was only half right. True, there was something incredibly heady about being loved the way that Jim loves her. Pam would readily admit that. The surge of power and satisfaction she felt when she touched him and his body responded instantly was intoxicating. It was hard not to love the constant ego stroke that came with a man who, after all this time, still looks at you like he would happily devour you in one bite. And the confidence, the absolute surety of his love was unwavering. That alone could turn a girl's head, even without the tuxedo, without the long lean body in that tuxedo, and without those infinite green eyes.

But, on the other hand, she felt like nothing she gave him would ever be enough. Pam sometimes wondered if he really believed that she loved him with all of her heart. If he did, then how could he doubt her? Why did those shadowy fears still filter through, hovering just beneath the surface, coloring everything just a little bit darker? She wanted to give him everything; her heart, her body, her soul. She wanted him to know that he held it all in his hands. Those slender, almost delicate hands with their 'dainty' fingers. The very hands that could play her body like a violin one moment, and then hold her so surely that she knew without the slightest shadow of a doubt that he would never, ever let her down. Stupid shadows. How could she chase them away once and for all?

Pam looked up to see Charles Minor walking out of the conference room with his coat over his arm. He said a few words to the office in general, and then headed for the door. Pam had to steel herself not to cringe when Jim called after him, not once, not twice, but three times. When Kelly tore through the office intent on capturing her prey, Pam turned to look at Jim, only to find him slumping in his chair in a way that was anything but classy. She glanced at the clock, and then ducked her head, pretending to work as she willed the minute hand to move closer to the twelve.

The second it was straight up five o'clock, she rose, lifting her purse from the drawer where she kept it. She walked over to his desk and said in a low voice, "Let's get you home and out of that tux."

Jim looked up with a wry smile and said, "Best offer I've had all day."

She stepped back and watched as he unfolded his lanky frame from the chair with such fluid grace that she felt compelled to replace every 'classy' he had uttered all day with 'elegant' instead. Heedless of their co-workers proximity, Pam slipped her hand through his arm and gave him a little squeeze of reassurance. The ride down in the elevator was silent but for the running commentary Kelly provided on Charles Minor's many attributes. The Saab chirped its greeting as they approached, and Pam stepped back as Jim opened the passenger door for her.

"Classy," Pam said with s cheeky grin.

"That's me," he answered, letting the door slam shut with a resounding thud.

The moment he started the car, her left hand drifted to his thigh, resting in its usual spot. The lightweight wool of his tuxedo pants was smooth to the touch and the heat of his skin warmed the fabric. Pam closed her eyes, letting her fingers drift in small circles as she soaked up his warmth. This was one of her favorite things about him. Being in love with Jim Halpert meant that her beloved cardigans were rendered obsolete outside of the office. Pam relaxed back into the seat, letting the music that played from the stereo wash over her as her fingers grew a bit more bold. As if beyond her control, they spiraled out in ever widening circles, brushing his inseam as her thumb played over the satin stripe that had teased her so mercilessly all day. Jim turned left, and then without a word, covered her hand with his, stilling it.

She opened her eyes and turned to him as he offered her a small smile. "Getting a little fresh there, aren't you Beesly?"

Pam blinked at him lazily as they pulled up to a stop light. She licked her lips and then whispered, "I want you."

Jim started in surprise and then chuckled ruefully. "That's good to know, but, um, I'm not feeling too good about things right now."

"Let me make you feel better," she said softly.

Jim smiled, glancing at the cars ahead of them as the light turned green again, and said, "Just being with you makes everything better."

As he cautiously accelerated once more, Pam continued to stare at his profile. "I'm so in love with you," she said in a voice so soft that the music nearly drowned her out. When his eyes flickered over to her, she smiled and said, "You have no idea."

"Pam…"

Pam shook her head and said, "I don't care what that guy or anyone else thinks, I know. I know how good you are. At everything," she added with a fleeting smile.

Jim's lips curved as he joked, "It's the tux, isn't it?"

"I'm in love with you, Jim Halpert. I'm going to marry you. You'll be wearing that tux, but it doesn't matter. I'd marry you if you were wearing that ratty old Phillies shirt you love so much. I'll marry you even if we have to cut up two cardboard boxes and push them together for a house."

"Two?"

"Long legs," Pam replied as she slid her hand out from under his and stroked the length of his thigh appreciatively.

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Is it working?"

"Always," he said in a slightly raspy voice as he slowed to a stop at another light.

"Do you believe me?" Pam asked softly as she let her fingertips graze his crotch.

Jim exhaled in a rush and asked, "That you're trying to seduce me? Absolutely I do."

"That I love you. I love you, Jim, and we are going to have a very long, very happy life together, no matter what goes on around us," she corrected gently.

Jim turned to look her in the eye and said, "I believe you."

Pam raised her eyebrows and asked, "Do you? Do you believe that I can make the mortgage payment too? Do you believe that I believe in you, in us, and that nothing is going to change that?"

Jim frowned and asked, "What brought this on?"

"I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to buy me houses, or make big plans, or take care of every little tiny thing for me. I'll still love you if Charles Minor thinks you're a complete moron, because I know better. I'll still love you if we have to stay home every night and eat ramen noodles while we roll pennies to pay the light bill," she promised.

When she saw the line of cars beginning to move ahead of them, Pam gave a slight nod toward the windshield to get him to turn his attention back to the road. "I don't need anything but you," she said firmly. "And, maybe this tux for you to wear when you marry me. You asked, and I'm not letting you get out of it now."

"I don't wanna get out of it."

"I wanna get you out of this tux," she said as she let her fingers play over the fly of his pants teasingly.

"Pam," he groaned as she began to stroke the hard ridge of flesh pressing insistently against the soft fabric. She traced the outline of him with her fingers, and Jim groaned louder when she tightened her hand around him. "We're almost home," he muttered, reassuring himself as much as her.

"Drive," Pam said as she unbuckled her seat belt and reached for the tab of his zipper.

"God, Pam," Jim gasped as he revved the engine and then had to stop on the brake to keep from lurching into the car ahead of them. "Stop that."

"Drive carefully. I'm not wearing my seatbelt," she reminded him as she pulled the zipper down and then fumbled with the hooks at his waist, nudging the cummerbund up over his stomach.

"You can't, I can't…" he stammered. Pam reached into his boxer briefs and wrapped her fingers around his ever stiffening cock. "Oh God," he whispered, gripping the wheel with both hands as she stroked him firmly. "You are."

"I am," Pam said as she lowered her head into his lap.

Jim's head swiveled from side to side, checking to see if the people in the cars on either side of them had seen her disappear from view, if they knew where she had gone, if they could possibly be having a better commute home from work than he was. Pam closed her lips around him and drew him into her mouth slowly and steadily.

"G-guh," Jim managed grunt as her soft tongue swirled around the tip of him. "Pam," he whispered urgently.

Pam lifted her head slightly, her lips grazing his sensitive skin as she whispered, "So beautiful. You looked so beautiful today."

"Not beautiful," Jim managed to choke out as she drew him seep into her soft, wet mouth. Pam sucked him hard, her head bobbing in his lap as he hooked a sharp right onto a side street and pulled to the curb.

Pam rose up and glanced over the dashboard in confusion. "I said drive, Halpert," she said as she looked at him sternly.

"I can't drive when you're…"

Pam's eyebrows twitched as she bit back a smile. "I'm what?" she asked in a low husky voice.

"Making me crazy."

"By sucking you?" she asked innocently.

"Pam," he groaned, closing his eyes as his hands slid from the wheel to her shoulders.

Pam waited for the gentle push she knew he was dying to give, but it never came. She lowered her head again and brushed her lips over him in the barest of kisses. "All day long I wanted to do this. I thought about this. About me on my knees, you in my mouth," she whispered, thankful for the curtain of her hair as a flush stained her cheeks.

"You have?" he croaked.

"Oh yeah," she said, her warm breath washing over him. "Drive, Jim, drive us home and you can do whatever you want with me. Anything you want."

"God I love this tux," Jim said through gritted teeth as he put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb, barely sparing a glance at the mirrors.

"God I love you," Pam countered before tracing the head of his cock with the tip of her tongue.

She took him into her mouth once more, drawing him deep and sucking steadily as she stroked him with her lips. Jim could never tell you how he did it, but somehow they made it the six blocks to their street. He spotted their driveway as she sped up, sucking him greedily as her hair spilled over him, rose gold against the jet black of his pants. He turned into the drive and stomped on the brake, jerking to a stop as he surged up off of the seat.

Jim pressed both feet to the brake pedal as he buried his hands in her hair, holding her there as he thrust against the exquisite pull of her mouth. "Pam," he whispered urgently, lowering one foot to the floor to brace himself as he pushed up into her. Pam moaned in response, the vibration shooting straight through him. She sucked harder, gripping his hip to steady herself as she made it clear she had no intention of stopping. Jim wet his dry lips, trying to form the words to warn her as he pulled gently at her hair. "Pam!" he groaned as he shot into her, filling her mouth in hard, hot spurts as she gulped greedily, taking him in.

As he dropped back into the seat, Jim forced his fingers to unclench, letting her curls slip through them like water. Pam pressed a soft, sweet kiss to the tip of his cock, and then tucked him carefully back into his briefs. When she looked up, she found him staring down at her, his lips parted and moist as he tried to catch his breath. Pam blinked slowly, her eyes bright and shining, her cheeks pink with pleasure derived from his pleasure. "Are you going to be gentle with me?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he promised.

"Don't," she ordered boldly, and Jim's foot slipped off of the brake.

They rolled forward, the shiny bumper of his car denting the dated old garage door before he could stomp on it again. Pam stifled a giggle as she pushed back into her seat and covered her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Jim blinked rapidly, his face a mask of disbelief as he glared at the door that dared to jump out in front of them. He pushed the gear shift into reverse and backed away a few inches before shoving it into park and setting the emergency brake, just for good measure. The giggle escaped her as he jerked up hard on the handle, her eyes dancing with delight in the havoc she had wrought.

"Laugh now, Beesly," Jim growled as he jerked his zipper up. He pointed to the garage door and then at her as he said, "That's coming out of your paycheck."

tbc