Chapter 11: Fascinating

Alright, there's a lot going on in this chapter. Even though it might be a little slow, there's lots of important stuff here too. A lot of people had a problem with the way I had Ryan in a past chapter so, that's explained here. We also get to see Roy, finally. Also, the sex chapter went over really well and I'm glad. This chapter also has some more details per jlcarey's review (gracias). The end is mostly dialogue, but that's what I like so, that's what you get at 2am. Anyway, enough of me yakking…here's chapter 11 and no, I don't own the Office, but I do own a brand new full-screen DVD of Happy Feet.

Fascinating

def'n: inspiring a great interest or attraction

She watched him intently as he scurried around her bedroom. Her bare stomach lay against the crumpled fitted sheet, the top sheet strategically placed between her lower back and mid-thigh. She propped up her chin in her hand, creating a beautiful arch in her back. As he passed the end of the bed for the third time she kicked her feet up near the headboard. On his way past her for the forth time, she sighed heavily to grab his attention.

He stopped and looked down at her. He kissed her gently on the lips, "Hey, tiger."

"Tiger?" She laughed at him, cocking her head as he continued to the dresser.

He opened "his drawer" before responding, "After last night, um, yeah. I'm going to have a good time explaining the scratches on my back to the guys."

"Is that why you're dressed like that?" She looked him over. He had on loose fitting wind pants and an old college shirt. She knew he was wearing shorts under the pants and he had already grabbed his tennis shoes.

"Yeah," he sat next to her at the foot of the bed, kissing her quickly before bending down to put on his shoes. "Remember? I have that pick up basketball game with Mark this afternoon."

"Ugh." She flopped down dramatically, flinging her arms over the end of the bed. A small chuckle escaped his lips before she rolled over, carefully pulling the blanket with her.

He turned to look down into her eyes once his shoes were tied. "What is it?"

"Do you have to go?" she whined.

"I promised Mark-"

"That the last Saturday of every month was b-ball day."

Jim smiled and nodded before getting up to grab his wallet off the nightstand. He gathered the four condom wrappers from the stand and held them up for her to look at. "This is just laziness Beesly. The least you could do is throw them away." He walked over to the bathroom door and tossed them in the garbage.

She had sat up and wrapped the sheet around herself, her legs pulled underneath. "I wish you didn't have to go yet."

"Well, I promised. Besides, I'm already ten minutes late. What am I supposed to say?"

"Tell him the truth. You were having massive amounts of sex with your girlfriend."

"Yeah, no," he laughed at her. He grabbed his duffle bag, kissed her on the forehead, and made his way to the bedroom door. "I'll see you later."

"Hey," she said quickly, stopping him. He turned and leaned in the doorway. "Don't wash up before you come back."

"Why?"

"Because, though I plan on staying in bed all day, I might be persuaded to take a shower."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, "Who are you and what have you done with Pamela Beesly?"

"I'm still Pam. I'm just the new, improved, and sexually fulfilled Pam Beesly."

"Well then. On that note, I'm gonna go do something to keep my mind off that." He turned and walked to the front door, pausing when he heard her voice.

"I love you!"

"Love you to, you little sex fiend." He closed the door listening to her laugh.

Instead of dressing, Pam wrapped the sheet around her, tucking the loose end in the front. She let the ends drag across the floor as she snatched her undergarments from the spots they had landed in the night before. She noticed the panties she had worn were now ripped. She shook her head as she entered the bathroom and tossed them in the garbage. The last couple weeks with Jim had been remarkable. After their failed attempt at having amazing sex, they tried again, and again, and again, finally reaching the "earth-shattering" phase thirteen days after their first try (which was the night before).

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, smiling at the redness Jim's stubble had left on her neck and chest when she heard the doorbell ring. She laughed all the way to the door, pulling it open without asking who it was. "Decided to shower before the game?"

The man that stood before her was not the one she expected. He was wearing a nice polo shirt and khaki pants. His hair had been combed back and his beard was well kept.

"Roy?" She pulled at the sheet, wrapping it tighter around herself, holding onto it as if her life depended on her keeping it up.

"Oh, um, hey Pam." He diverted his eyes to the ground, but not after looking her over quickly.

"What are you doing here?"

"I, um, well, I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh," she breathed out, moving so the door was more between them. "Um. Is it important?"

"Sort of."

"Oh. Well, I guess you could come in." She moved so he could come into the apartment.

He didn't look at her as he entered. He stood by the large armchair in the corner, focusing his eyes on everything but her. She closed the door and walked towards her bedroom. "I'm just going to go put something on."

He looked at her suddenly, "Oh God, are you not alone?"

"No, I am. It's okay, I'll just be a minute." She turned and walked-almost too quickly-into her room, shutting the door behind her.

Pam cracked the bedroom door, peeking out before opening it the rest of the way, returning to where she had left him. Roy was sitting forward on the couch, remote in hand. She stepped into the living room quietly. She let out a breath to let him know she was there. He clicked off the television, stood up, and turned to look at her.

"Oh, hey, I hope you don't mind. I was just checking the scores real quick."

"Oh, no, that's fine." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

He looked her up and down for a moment. She had on jeans and form-fitting t-shirt. He had noticed the few times he had seen her in the last month that she had been wearing different clothes. Clothes that were very "un-Pam like". "Um, you look really nice."

"Thanks. You look nice too. Hot date?" She laughed at her own words, trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go to lunch, but we don't have to."

"Oh. Well we could go out if you want."

"Yeah, sure." The truth was that she hated having him in her apartment; the apartment that she and Jim spent their time in. Besides the fact that her apartment smelled like Jim, she didn't want Roy seeing that part of her life; it was none of his business. She grabbed a white sweatshirt and her purse as he opened the door for her.

They drove to a small diner downtown in silence. They had ordered their drinks when Pam spoke, "So, what's up?"

"Um, well, here's the thing-"

Pam tensed up. The last time she had heard a conversation start like that, it had been with Jim-when he had told her he wanted to marry her.

"I just wanted to know if you thought that we could ever get back together.'

She was taken back at that. "Um, listen, Roy, I really don't think so."

"Yeah." He nodded his head and hung it slightly.

"Look Roy, it's just-"

The waitress interrupted them for their order-grilled ham and cheese for her, a burger for him. Pam leaned forward on her arms as she folded them on the table. She watched him as he stared to his beer.

"Is he a nice guy?"

His question surprised her, but she replied quickly, "He really is."

"Do you love him?" He looked up at her.

"Yeah, I do."

"Does he love you?"

"Yeah, he does." Her voice had softened to almost a whisper, causing him to look up at her.

"He's good to you, right?"

"Of course he is."

Their food arrived and Roy looked her plate over as she shoved a fry in her mouth. "I guess I really didn't pay attention to you when we were together."

"Hmm?"

"I just never knew you liked grilled ham and cheese."

"Oh, it's something new I'm trying."

"Oh." He took a bite of his burger before he jumped right back into his inquisition, "So, what's his name?"

Pam nearly choked on her sandwich before she answered with the best thing she could, "Max." It wasn't a total lie. Jim's middle name was Maxwell so she figured it was close enough.

"So, um, what does this Max guy do for a living?" Roy's questions were becoming more accusing as he went along and Pam wasn't sure if it was jealously or his beer.

"Um, I don't think that really matters-"

"I just want to know the kind of people you're with these days."

"Roy, it's none of your business."

"I think who you're sleeping with is my business." He was leaning forward, which was making their conversation terribly uncomfortable for Pam.

"No, it's not. You know, I was starting to forget what it was that made me leave you in the first place, but now I remember pretty well." She started to get up when she felt his hand gently grab her arm. His eyes had softened and they practically pleaded her to sit back down. She did.

"I'm sorry Pammy. I just-I hate that I lost you."

"Roy, I've moved on. Just let it be that, please."

He nodded. "I miss you."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She looked down at her watch and then back up at him.

"You need to go?"

"Um, yeah. Do you mind giving me a ride home?"

He shook his head, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. She reached for hers, but he stopped her. After he paid for their half eaten lunch, he drove her home in silence.

Pam checked her watch as they entered her neighborhood. She was suddenly wishing Jim would decide to still shower after the game, giving enough time for Roy to leave. She let out a quiet sigh of relief when they rounded the corner onto her street and there was no sign of Jim. That sat in Roy's truck on the street outside her building in silence for a moment-something they had done a lot of that afternoon. Roy turned the radio down and smiled at her.

"Thank you for lunch," she said quietly, looking sown at her hands in her lap.

"You're welcome. Um, so, I just wanted to let you know that if this thing with Max doesn't work out, I'm here."

"Roy," she looked up at him. "I've moved on. You need to, too.'

"Yeah, okay." He looked away from her and she was afraid he might actually cry.

"I'm here as your friend, but that's as far as it goes, okay?"

"Yeah." After a silence he added, "This guy really makes you happy, huh?"

She nodded, "Yeah, he really does."

"Well, I love you Pammy, but I'm glad you're happy."

"Thank you Roy, for everything." She opened the door and climbed out of the truck. She waited till he looked up before she smiled, "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Yeah, bye Pam."

"Bye Roy." She shut the door and walked towards the front door, pausing to wave goodbye as he pulled away, before she headed back upstairs.

She was reclining on the couch when Jim returned. Her head was propped up on the armrest and she bent her legs at the knee. Her sketchpad lay against her thighs, staring back at her. The grey smudges could be considered a desk and a body; the blue smudge a dress. Her eyes were glued to it when he leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"You were much prettier that night."

She looked up at him and smiled gently, "Good game?"

"Oh yeah. Totally wiped the floor with Marks ass."

"That's my man." She turned her head to watch him as he went into the kitchen and retrieved a beer from the fridge. He popped it open and returned to the living room, sitting on the coffee table next to her.

"So, what happened to not getting out of bed?"

She sighed deeply before answering, "Roy came over. He took me out to lunch because he had something important to talk about."

"And that would be?"

"He wanted to know if there was still a chance for him and me. I obviously said no, but I don't know. It was weird. I've never seen him like that, and it was uncomfortable, and I hated lying to him about being with you. Everything is getting out of hand with us and I wish it would all go away." She closed her sketchbook and threw it over her knees to the other end of the couch.

He reached out and took her hand in his, "Hey, we can tell people if you want. I'm okay with that."

"No. I don't really want people to know. It's our business. I'm just cranky. Besides, enough people know already." She sat up, but never released his hand.

"Who knows about us?"

"Well, my mom and yours, Mark, my cousin Lisa, Melissa from my art class, and Ryan."

"Ryan? As in Ryan from work?"

"Yeah."

"He knows about us?"

"Oh yeah."

"For how long?"

"Since he saw us making out in the parking lot about a week into our relationship."

"Oh man. And he hasn't said anything?"

"Nope."

He took a swig of his beer and smiled at her, "Is that why he keeps giving us weird looks and shit?"

"Yup. That would be why. He knows about Dwight and Angela too."

"Dwight and Angela?" He suddenly seemed extremely intrigued by the turn in their conversation. "Now this I have got to hear about. Spill Beesly."

"Um, how about we get you cleaned up first," she said tugging on his shirt with her free hand.

"No, I need to hear this one."

"It's a long story and I'm not sure I could wait it out, or be "in the mood" after telling it," she said, pulling him to his feet. She looked up at him suggestively and licked her lips.

"Well, in that case, I guess we're hitting the showers."

"Alright, coach, let's go."

He laughed at her and picked her up, one arm behind her back and the other under her knees. He carried her laughing frame to the shower, knowing the Dwight and Angela story hour would have to wait. He also knew it was going to be one very interesting story hour when they got around to it.

Fascinating

def'n: Dwight and Angela's relationship…as well as other things…

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