That night, when Pam returned home bearing Chinese food, Jim told her the story of his phone call with David Wallace earlier that morning.

"So, I know we can't sue, but am I allowed to punch Michael in the face for nearly killing you?" Pam asked teasingly.

"Nearly killing me? Pam, it's a few broken bones and a concussion."

"It was scary!" Pam defended herself. "Now I know how you used to feel," She said more quietly.

"Hey, come here," He said, sensing her beginning to get upset and pulling her next to him for her head to lay against his thigh as he say on the couch. Normally he would've invited her into his lap, but he knew that wouldn't be good for his ribs. He held her hand and rubbed circles on the back of her palm with his thumb. "God, I'm tired."

"The doctor said the medicine would make you fatigued. Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Pam, it's like 7:30." Jim protested.

"Don't argue!" She said sassily. "The doctor said the more you sleep, the quicker you'll get better."

"Fine." Jim said, getting up and moving towards their room, collapsing on the mattress.

"Goodnight," Pam said, kissing him for a moment.

"You're not coming?"

"Well, unless you want the town to shut off our heat, I have to pay the bills. I also have to balance the checkbook and make a grocery list," she said, more to herself than to Jim. "I'll be in later. Just go to bed." Pam said, slipping out of their room to take care of the chores she inherited due to Jim's accident.

Truth be told, Pam almost enjoyed doing these things. For one, it proved to her that she was independant. She could live on her own and pay bills if she wanted to. She knew Jim valued and appreciated her, but she felt even more like a valuable part of their relationship when she was able to complete these tasks. After taking care of what needed to be taken care of, Pam slipped into bed next to Jim, and he pulled her into his chest, being careful of his ribs.

"Why aren't you asleep?" She whispered.

"Bed doesn't feel the same when you're not in it." He responded in a gravelly, tired voice.

Smiling to herself, Pam buried her face in the clean-smelling cotton shirt draped over Jim's chest.

"I'm here now. Go to sleep,"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Pam?" Jim asked, looking down at her.

"Yeah?" She responded, making eye contact with him.

"Do I have to stay home tomorrow?"

"Yes," she giggled.

"Can you stay home, too? Wallace will probably give you the paid day off."

Laughing, Pam nodded. "It's a date."

"Great," Jim smiled.

"Will you go to bed now? At least try to get better?"

"When'd you get so bossy, Beasley?"

Pam was about to elbow him in the ribs, but stopped herself. "You are so lucky that your ribs are hurt."

"Lucky isn't exactly the word I would use," he teased.

"Shh," she said, using her lips to close his mouth. "It's time to sleep," she whispered, settling against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

The next morning at ten, Jim rolled out of bed and got into the shower, attempting to do so without waking Pam. His efforts were in vain. Pam woke up, as much as she resisted it, and sat in bed for a few minutes while Jim showered. After gathering the energy, she sat up, and looked for clothes she could wear for the day, eventually deciding on a pair of leggings and an old University of Scranton t-shirt. She was pulling her fingers through her hair when Jim emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing off of him, an old green towel wrapped around his waist.

"Did I wake you?" Jim asked, seeing Pam sitting up in the bed.

"Maybe," she said flirtatiously, turning to face him.

"Sorry," he apologized, still not awake enough to catch on to her tone.

"Not a problem," Pam said, rising to her knees on the mattress to kiss Jim.

"Careful, I'm all wet."

"Who says I'm not?"

"Beasley!" Jim said, surprised, but smiling.

"What?" Pam asked, batting her eyelashes in an overly dramatic display of innocence.

"Don't play coy with me," he smiled, kissing her again. "Now, who are you, and what did you do with my fiance?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Pam said sweetly, playing along with his charade.

"My fiance," he said, placing his hands on her hips and kissing her, "Has never been so forward. She's downright shy, for goodness sakes."

"Maybe I don't want to be shy anymore," Pam whispered, then kissing the space under his ear.

"Lovely," he said, moving to kiss her neck again. "You know, this arrangement really isn't fair. I'm barely wearing anything, and you're

fully clothed." Jim stated, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

"I just put these on," Pam complained.

"I guess I'll have to make taking them off worth your while," Jim smirked, pulling the grey t-shirt over her head to reveal the bright pink sports bra, which left little to the imagination. He left open mouthed kisses along her collarbone, and she murmured in approval. Smiling, Jim let his index fingers slip under the waistband of her leggings at her hips, pulling them down slowly. Once they were discarded, Pam was laying down on the bed, and she reached her arms up to pull him down by his neck for a kiss.

"Are you going to be okay? Like, your ribs and your head?" Pam asked, looking him in the eyes for a moment.

"Yeah, I feel good." He said, kissing her lips to end the discussion. "Wait, is this okay? The baby-"

"We're fine," Pam assured him. "But this baby has got my hormones all out of alignment, so if we could hurry this process up-"

"You don't have to tell me twice," Jim smiled, kissing Pam again. She arched her back, and he took this opportunity to deftly unclasp the pink fabric surrounding her chest, discarding it with the rest of her clothes.

"Jim," Pam whispered, and they started their day off with a very private display of affection.