Hey guys, I'm glad you liked the first chapter, and I've been writing extra hard to get to the second and third ( not to brag but the third is AWESOME) chapters. This one is kinda short and sweet, but it's all to build up to the third. Thanks to those who reviewed, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Complications

Chapter 2

Break-ins

She walked through the door noiselessly and placed her purse on the floor between the wall and the radiator, scrapping some of the loose paint off of it while doing so.

Her keds slipped off silently and she peered around the corner to find him sitting on the couch reading, "I knew I should've had that lock replaced," she voiced.

The couch shook as he jumped with surprise at her sudden voice. He turned around to see her, his face flushed with embarrassment, "Well then you wouldn't have nice visitors like me waiting for you when you get home from work," he informed as he stood up and walked over to her standing in the archway of the room.

She smiled as she leaned into him, and shivered when his large hands curled around the curve of her waist, "Speaking about work, aren't you supposed to be there right now?"

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" he questioned back, then quickly removed one of his hands from around her waist and placed it on her forehead, "You didn't leave sick did you?"

"I'm fine," she told him as she took one of his large hands in both of hers, then giggled as she remembered why exactly she was sent home, "Michael said it was inclement weather."

His face skewed into that look he made when he didn't understand something, the face that made her want to plant kisses all over it. He sent a quick glance out the window and informed confusedly, "It's sunny out."

She laughed and nodded her head, "I know."

"So?" he chuckled pulling her close to him again and linking his arms by the small of her back.

"So?" she questioned looking up to him with big, innocent eyes, "Did you just travel the two and a half hour drive from Stamford for no reason?"

"Well" Jim began as he stared into her eyes, "I received a distressing email from my girlfriend telling me how sick she was and how she missed me," he explained as he pulled away from her and lead her towards the couch, "If the flu is back, you should take a few days off work, there's no need to overwork yourself."

"It's not the flu," she informed as she leaned against him, her head resting gently against his shoulder, "It's so boring at work, and taking the classes on the weekend now is really sapping my energy, then I come home and you're not here," she told him.

"Well I took today off," he enlightened has his hand ran through her wavy hair, "I had enough of that place. I actually got mad at someone," he added as he sent her a glance.

"Really?" she questioned, her eyes growing wide with surprise, "What happened?"

"He got angry at something that I wasn't even in control of, and I couldn't fix it. He left and slammed my door and one of you paintings fell on the ground. The glass cracked and the picture ripped," he spoke slowly as if he were reliving the scene in his mind.

"I'm sorry," Pam said with a frown as she hugged him closer, "I have a lot of other doodles for you. I haven't been doing much at work lately, so there's a bunch in the folder."

His mouth opened to reply, but was interrupted by the growling of her stomach, "Maybe we should forget about complaining about our bad days and go out for lunch. If we pick some stuff up on the way home I can cook supper so you can relax," he told her with a smile.

"How did I ever get along without you?" she questioned as she lightly kissed his lips.

"I still haven't figured that one out," he added with a shrug as he returned her kiss.

"Ha ha," she feigned laugher as she pulled away from the kiss and stood from the couch, "If we're going…" she stopped speaking abruptly and her face began to pale.

"Pam?" Jim asked as he jumped up from the couch, "What?..."

Before he could finish his question she was out of the room, and sliding down the hallway on hardwood floors in cotton socks.

When he reached the bathroom door her face was red from loosing her breakfast to the toilet. She flushed the toilet as he knelt down beside her on his knees and began to rub circles on her back comfortably.

"It's not the flu?" Jim questioned and she leaned into him weakly.

"Maybe it's a touch of the flu," she barely whispered, her whole body suddenly exhausted.

"Let's stay home," he told her, "I'll make something to eat, and we can just spend the whole night alone. It'll be nice."

She smiled as he helped her to her feet. As she climbed the stairs and changed into her pajamas she remembered the times she'd been sick around Roy. He had a weak stomach and insisted that when she was sick, to shut the door to the bathroom so he didn't hear.

Her eyes became droopy as she sat on the edge of her bed. They slid closed slowly and suddenly a nap seemed like one of the best things in the world.

(space)

She woke up with his arms wrapped around her, his chin resting on her shoulders and his cheek to hers. She let out a deep sigh and reached down to slip her hands around his and felt him smile.

"Feeling better?" he spoke groggily as he stretched out behind her and adjusted his arms a little tighter around her waist.

"Actually yeah," Pam nodded as she twisted in his arms to face him, "I feel completely revitalized and I'm ready for a late night of bar hopping and clubbing," she informed sarcastically as she inched closer to him.

He chuckled, a smile lighting up his face in the darkened room, "You don't want to be infecting the entire Scranton club scene with your flu, do you?" he asked as he moved closer, his nose grazing the tip of hers.

"You don't want to catch my flu do you?" she whispered, her lips so close to his that her could feel their lingering, ghostlike touch.

"I've had the flu before," he informed speedily as his lips moved against hers. His hands slid up her side, to her neck, and then through her hair to the back of her head when he deepened the kiss.

His hand moved over her stomach and felt as it rumbled with hunger, "We should have that supper I promised to cook," he voiced as he pulled away, though it was the last thing he wanted to do at the moment.

She smiled, "Is it grilled cheese? Because I could really go for some grilled cheese sandwiches right now."

"Some?" he questioned as he rose of the bed.

"Well you know what they say, 'starve a cold, feed a fever," she said with a shrug.

"You don't have a fever," he reminded as they left the room together.

"Are we having grilled cheese or not?" she queried with faked irritation.

"We are now," he replied.