"Yes." Jim answered her instantly. He looked worried, tired, but she knew his expression. His jaw was set. He was not going to back down from this one.
Pam's heart melted. He was so perfect; his help was unconditional, his love... Whoa. Pam stopped herself. What was she saying? He had just let her stay for what he probably thought was a couple of nights. Still... Pam saw that look in his eyes, and knew he would let her stay as long as she wanted. His smooth jaw was in its place, she noticed again...
"Thanks. I just... I can't be with Roy right now." Pam made herself talk to break her silence. "I don't know what is happening with my life. And I just need to take a step back, okay?"
"Sure. Look, I was starting to think about moving out if I couldn't find a flatmate soon, anyway, so you saved me. I mean, if you are going to be staying for a while, I don't mean to say you and Roy won't work things out." Jim looked like he had just made a mistake. "Not that I... don't worry. I am just saying, you are welcome as long as you want. That's what friends are for, right?" He didn't look much happier.
"Yeah, sure," Pam said, and realised she had been staring at him for a little longer than was polite. She looked down again. "Umm... so, I only have a suitcase. Will I dump it in Mark's room? Is that his stuff?"
"In your room?" he corrected with the hint of a smile. "Nah, furniture is included in the rent. Which you will be paying, to me, directly: there is no loafers in the Halpert household." Pam felt a little shiver down her spine. The Halpert household. She could get used to that. She wasn't sure she was ready to start back in their usual game though, not yet. She didn't shoot back some wisecrack, just smiled weakly. Jim's smile faded slightly.
"So..." There was a silence of things left unsaid. She quickly lent forward, and grabbed her suitcase, suddenly and inexplicably frightened of what he actually might say to fill in those gaps. "Shall you show me to my new room?"
"Yes, ma'am." Jim grabbed her bag, before she could deny him the chance to be chivalrous. There was an awkward shuffle as they both tried to climb the thin staircase at the same time, and then both gave way at the same time. Jim grinned, it seemed determined to elicit a smile from her. "The first hour you have been in my house, and you are already in my way!" Pam appreciated it, but there was too much she had to say. They climbed the stairs – Pam successfully avoiding the urge looking at his butt – and she followed him into Mark's (her) room. She was going to have a queen to herself, for the first time since... well, for the first time she could remember for a long time.
She sat on the edge of the bed. This was time. She had to have the talk. She had to summon the courage to say the things she knew she had to; otherwise, living together would be too hard. She motioned for Jim to join her, on impulse. They were friends. They could sit on the same bed together, she told herself. Still, she couldn't stop her heart fluttering a little, as his weight bounced her a little closer to him.
"Jim, I am sorry about this morning. I really didn't mean for this – Roy – to spill over onto you. And I promise, that sort of thing, you will not have to witness any more." Pam saw something in his eyes, but pushed on regardless. "I mean, I don't know what will happen with me and Roy, but after what you had to witness this morning... I really didn't mean for Roy to jump to the conclusions he did, I am sorry."
Jim's eyes stopped wandering. "About us?" he said quietly, as his eyes snapped back to her face.
"Uh... you were awake, weren't you?" At Jim's nod, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Pam reddened, unable to speak, but nodding. She had assumed he had missed out on that part. What had she done? She tried to recover. "I mean, I went home and sorted it all out. Roy and I will be fine." That was not what she meant to say. Why did she say that? She could see Jim leaning away, and standing up.
"That's good to hear," he said, with a strange tone underscoring his voice, one he hadn't heard since this morning. When he had said to call her next time she came over unloading all of her feelings, her secrets. That tone which said, he really didn't want her to come, and was now saying he didn't want to hear. She was taken aback a little by this. Hadn't he said she could come over any time? That friends were there to help? He had sounded sincere. He had looked sincere a few minutes ago.
Pam felt a sudden anger, an urge to push her point, and she stood up, as if to usher Jim out. "Yeah, it was just cold feet, I guess. We'll be fine," she repeated. When Jim's face remained carefully blank, she felt more of that irrational frustration, blossoming in like a fire in her lungs, making her hands clench slightly. "But, I am OK to have a no sex rule, in the Halpert Household, if that is what you want," she spat out bitterly.
She instantly knew she had gone too far; not even Jim could pass that off as a joke. He lost his composure this time, giving her a perverse and fleeting feeling of satisfaction, but almost before she noticed his neutral look returned.
"Don't worry about it. You can sleep with whoever you want here." He turned and strode out of the room, without saying another word, and she could here the click of his door shutting down the hall.
She slammed her own, with less-than-subtle force, and fell back on her bed. What had possessed her to say that?
Jim had calmed down, by the time he knew he should do something about dinner. He had lain on his bed, pretending to himself that he was reading a book, for the past couple of hours. He couldn't even remember the title. He knew he was only holding it up for Pam's benefit, waiting for her to come in and apologise, or say something. They had never really fought before. Jim shook himself; it wasn't like they were a couple, or anything. There was nothing wrong with wait Pam had said. But they way she had said it...
He could feel his dual anger – at her for what she said and at himself for not going and fixing things – smouldering under the surface of his emotions, but for now he had it under control. He could remain civil, for now, at least. He decided he should get dinner, in this new spirit of civility; although, he wasn't in a cooking mood. Takeaway it was, then. He grabbed a coat from his wardrobe, and turned his door handle.
He knocked on Pam's door – appropriately polite, he thought to himself with a measure of satisfaction – and waited for an answer. And waited. Just as he was about to turn the handle, he heard the shower turn on down the hall.
For a moment Jim forgot everything that had happened since he has first interviewed Pam. The night after, he had had a distinctly unfriendly dream involving Pam and his shower. He wasn't exactly the type who enjoyed having frequent sexual fantasies – especially about his best friend, who was engaged – but, more often than it should have, it popped into his mind during the oddest times.
And here she was in his shower. A few images popped through his mind, before he could help himself. And suddenly he was striding down the hall, to the bathroom door, and putting his hand on the handle and-
He stopped himself. In the end, it was only the anger, that could stop him. He knew his lust would probably be as frightening for Pam as it was for him, but the only thing that could tear him back from that door, was that bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing how much he wanted her, not only as a friend to trash talk and joke with, but as a lover, to dream and wish and open his heart and to kiss and kiss and kiss...
No. She would not get that satisfaction. Not when she already had Roy, and he was alone, had been alone for too long. His hand slipped off the handle, and he knocked on the door loudly.
"Jim?" Pam's voice floated through the door, muted.
After a brief internal struggle with the images which had threatened to overwhelm him, he found his voice. "I'm just popping out to grab some food. Do you want me to pick you up some Thai?" He added, remembering her love of the local restaurant.
There was a brief pause. "Do you think you could grab me some Chinese? I don't like Thai much, lately."
Liar.
"Sure!" he yelled through the door, no longer just because of its thickness, and stomped down the stairs with unnecessary force.
Pam leant back against the tiles, letting the water rush over her. She felt a little tired. She had not intended for things to go this way at all. But then, what had she expected? She knew, deep down, how much any talk of Roy made Jim awkward at work. Why should she expect any different when he was at his house? It was so frustrating; why couldn't he just accept that she was happy with her relationship? She thought briefly about what she had told Jim last night, all she had said; and about the engagement ring that she had walked out on this morning, sitting conspicuously on her – on Roy's – kitchen bench. She shook her head. Cold feet, she had said, and cold feet it was.
Turning off the taps, she stepped out of the shower. Jim and her were such great friends yesterday. She wanted to live here for that friendship, one she was sure would extend out of work. She wanted to live here, because it always seemed like she was examining her own decisions better when she was with Jim, and she had a lot of decisions to make. She dried herself vigorously, and liberally dusted herself with talcum powder.
With all of the instability of the past weekend, she just wanted some of her friendship back. She resolved to make an effort to be nice to Jim tonight, to be the friend she had been. Decided, she wrapped her towel around herself, and let herself out of the bathroom, walking quickly back to her bedroom. It was a little cold; she was used to having an en suite. When she got to her room, she ruffled through her suitcase, unsure of what she was looking for. She had a dress that was too formal for eating takeaway, and pyjamas. Sighing, hoping she wouldn't like like an absolute fool, she put on her flannelettes. Curse her for not bringing some casual clothes! Although, she hadn't exactly been in a logical mood this morning.
By the time she was settled on the couch downstairs, with her damp hair in a plait, she could here Jim's car pull up into the driveway. The TV was on one of her favourite shows, but she couldn't help but rushing over to peek out the lounge room window. He killed the engine, opening his door... but stopped. She couldn't make out his expression by the weak light of the car's interior.
He waited, in the same position, Pam peeking out through the corner of a curtain, for about two minutes. Pam was unsure what he was waiting for, until she saw him get out with a distinctly nervous look on his face. He leant back against the car for another couple of second, and Pam could see him composing himself by the light of the street lamp. By the time Pam realised he had assumed his normal casual demeanour, he was close enough to the door that Pam had to rush back to the couch to avoid being caught staring.
"Hey," she said offhandedly as he came quietly through the door, not even removing her eyes from the TV.
"Hey," he echoed. "I'm sorry. the Chinese place was closed, so I just got two lots of Thai. Is that okay, or do you want me to cook you some pasta or something?"
Pam inwardly smiled, and gave him a disinterested nod. She had actually a real craving for Thai - as usual - but out of the desire of denying Jim the feeling he knew everything about her, had made up something on the spur of the moment. Her satisfaction in getting what she actually wanted faded when she looked up and caught the hint of a smug smile on his lips. That bastard had known!
Furious with herself for playing into his trap, she put her feet up on his coffee table. "Is it fine if we just eat on the couch?" she said, knowing his aversion to eating meals by the TV. He had more than once made some comment about Roy doing it.
Her hope of goading him into a little open discomfort faded quickly. He gave her a forced smile, and then replied by plonking the bag on the table, shouldering off his coat, and settling down at the opposite end of the couch. "I would like nothing better," he added.
They quickly got into the food. It became a silent competition, since Jim had gotten two of everything; Jim would reach for something, and then Pam would grab the same thing, eating slightly faster than normal, grabbing the next dish with satisfaction if she finished first. She didn't even really notice what was happening on the show, even if she was staring at the screen intently.
When they were finished, they sat in silence, neither getting up lest it show the other had won. Jim barked out a question: the first to crack under the silence, Pam thought with triumph.
"Any plans for tomorrow?" he enquired casually in an ad break. The remote was flipping in his hand.
"Not really. Might go over to Roy's, you know, to get a little more stuff."
"How is he taking all this?" Jim remarked, almost conversationally.
"Not great. But after how he... I am prepared to stay here, even if he doesn't want me to." Realising she had lost the upper hand, she added untruthfully: "He said he might take me out to lunch tomorrow, though."
The remote was twirling vigorously in Jim's hand. After a short pause, he said in his now-familiar false tone, "I hope you have fun."
There was a loud clack as the remote slipped out of his hand, bounced of the coffee table into the floor next to Pam.
They both reached for it at the same time.
Pam felt Jim's shoulder brush up against her hair.
Jim could smell her, stronger than ever, that mixture of moisturiser, shampoo, and now a hint of talcum powder. He could feel her fringe on his shoulder. He was angry with her, but he couldn't pull back, not with her breath on him, not with creamy neck looking so, so inviting.
She brought her eyes up to him. He could see her anger in those eyes, yet she wasn't pulling back either. They were both paralysed, staring deeply into each other's eyes, Jim thirsting for her, and at the same time furious with himself.
The show came back on. Jim forced himself back.
They watched the show together in silence, until, without a word, Pam left in the middle of its climax. He heard her padding upstairs.
He leant over, and picked up the remote, and changed the channel. He could her the floorboards creaking with her footsteps upstairs, and fought the urge to join her.
He didn't move for two hours, until he was sure she was asleep, and then he switched the screen off, and quietly moved upstairs. He rushed past her door, shutting himself tight up in his room.
And settled in, resolved not to open the door again until the morning, no matter how hard it would be.
"Goodnight", he whispered.
A/N:Big chapter, by my standards. If my history teacher is reading, THIS is why I haven't been doing my homework, okay?
Thanks for reading! The simple fact that you have made it this through many chapters makes me happy:)
See you soon!
