Starting Over

Chapter 4:

Disclaimer: I own nothing

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the reviews! They are awesome and make me want to neglect all my other work to write! Here's chapter 4!

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She's coming to visit. She's staying with me. Jim's hands were practically shaking as he hung up the phone. She's staying with me In three days. She would be sleeping in his house.

He couldn't believe how his life had completely turned around in just a few weeks. Three months ago he'd left Scranton, tail between his legs, thinking he'd never find love again, and now Pam was coming to stay with him for an entire weekend.

What does this mean? He wondered. A part of him wanted to believe that it was more than just a friendly stay. Maybe it was the way her voice had sounded a little different lately, or the fact that she'd called him before her mom. He just felt like this weekend was going to be great.

Of course, he'd been wrong before.

Jim spent the next three days throwing himself into work, trying to prevent himself from completely going insane with anticipation. He spent his nights trying to make his apartment looked lived-in (i.e. unpacking boxes, and adding food to his beer collection in the fridge).

They had decided he would pick her up at the Stamford train station after her interview, despite his efforts to let him get her from the city. He left work early Friday afternoon, even though her train didn't come in until 6.

He parked at the train station in prime position to see her arrive, got out of his car and leaned against the door. Looking at his watch, he saw that he had half an hour until her train arrived.

He wondered for the millionth time what this weekend would bring. Although he dared to hope, he was wary simply because he didn't know if he could handle being crushed again. That's a lie, he thought. His heart could break a thousand times if it meant seeing a smile on her face.

Still, he knew that this weekend was different. She was coming to see him completely alone. No cameras scrutinizing their every move, no fiancé waiting for her at home. It would just be the two of them – all weekend. A smile crept onto his face and for once he didn't even try to fight it.

Suddenly, she appeared. Dragging her small suitcase behind her, she smoothed her hair and straightened her skirt before seeking him out. He waved her over and jogged to meet her.

"Hey!" she said as she let go of her bag and threw her arms around him.

"Hey," he replied, still holding her. "God, it's good to see you.

They disengaged and he grabbed her bag. She muttered a "thanks," as she followed him to his car.

"So…" he asked expectantly, "How'd the interview go?"

Her face lit up. "Really well! I think. No, it did," she laughed, "Sorry, I'm just don't even know where to start."

"How about, the beginning," he suggested, as he opened the door for her. He stuck her suitcase in the back seat made a beeline to the driver's seat to hear her answer.

"Well the woman who interviewed me was really nice; we got along really well and she really liked my sketches and some of the stuff I did in class." He could tell she was trying to hold back some of her excitement…unsuccessfully.

"That's great! When do you hear if you got it?"

"She said next week sometime."

"Well that's awesome," he said. "I think we need to celebrate."

"Oh yeah? What'd you have in mind?"

"Well, we're pretty humble here in Stamford. There's nothing fancy like Chili's," he joked. She laughed, and he forgot how great it made him feel when she laughed at his jokes. "Feel like Italian?"

"Sounds great."

Capri was an Italian restaurant in the center of town with a relaxed and fun atmosphere. It was dimly lit, but the large bar and Friday night crowd kept it from being overly romantic. A band comprised of middle aged Italian men played lively music that kept people on the dance floor, which Jim and Pam sat next to.

"Whew," Pam said, leaning back in her seat. Her face was flushed from a combination of wine and laughing most of the way through dinner. "I'm stuffed."

Jim smiled as she looked out onto the dance floor. He took this opportunity to look at her, noticing little changes from the last time he saw her. Her hair was pulled back as usual, but it was straighter and shinier, although that might have been for the interview. Her eyes were bright and the corners of her mouth were turned up, giving her an overall look of contentment. He didn't know if he'd ever seen her like this.

He watched her swaying to the music as a slower song came on and before he could stop himself he asked, "Do you want to dance?"

She looked back at him with the same look of ease on her face. "Sure," she said, rising from her seat. He offered his hand and relished in the feel of her soft skin against his as she took it. He guided her to the dance floor, pulling her close and sliding his hand around her back. Goosebumps appeared on his skin as her hand settled on the back of his neck.

He'd never realized how small she was until she was flush against him, her temple resting against his shoulder as they moved slowly to the music. She tilted her head back to look at him and he didn't know if he'd ever seen anything so beautiful.

"So I guess this is like, our second date," she said softly, blushing and moving her eyes off of him.

"Second?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah, you know we had our first up on the roof that night. You made grilled cheese?"

"Oh right," he remembered. "You know, if we want this to be really romantic I could call up Dwight and have him light some fireworks in the parking lot," he joked. They were close enough that he could feel her chest move against his when she laughed. "Wait, I thought you said that wasn't a date because we didn't really dance," he tried to joke, but still remembered how awkward he'd felt during that conversation.

She seemed to ponder this for a moment before turning serious. She looked back at him. "I think there were other reasons why that wasn't a real date." He nodded and looked away. "Still," she paused until his gaze met hers, "it was one of the best non-dates I've ever had."

He felt his heart speed up and wondered if she could feel it. "Pam…" he started, not really knowing what he was going to say.

"No, I mean…I was just saying," she fumbled, "it was really nice." She leaned back against his chest and he took that to mean the conversation was over.

"Yeah," he said softly, "it was."

He couldn't say how much longer they stayed on the dance floor, or even at the restaurant. Despite the fact he'd had little to drink, the drive home was a blur. All he knew was that he was now walking up his front stairs, carrying Pam's bag and fumbling for his keys.

He unlocked the door and swung it open, standing aside so she could enter. He set down her bag and flipped on the lights, pleasantly surprised when they didn't seem very bright. Closing the door behind him, he turned back to her, palms sweating, waiting for her to say something. He didn't know what to do. She just looked at him expectantly.

"So, this is it," He said, feeling awkward. "You wouldn't believe it but last week this place was covered in boxes."

"Oh yeah?" she said, looking around.

"Yeah, well I figured if I was going to have a visitor that I might want to make it look less like a prison cell."

"It looks good," she smiled at him. He noticed her eyes move past him, her body following until she stood in front of a familiar picture taped to his wall. She didn't say anything, just looked at it.

He came up beside her to looked at it too. "I really like that picture," he said honestly.

She smiled and looked down, shaking her head. "It's just a sketch."

He shook his head and looked at her. "Why do you do that?" he asked.

"What?" She met his eyes, looking genuinely confused.

"Act like it's not good," he said, trying not to be frustrated. "You're really talented Pam. They wouldn't even be considering you for this internship if you weren't." His eyes stayed locked on hers, daring her to look away.

"How do you do that?" She asked softly.

"What?"

"Believe in me like that," she said. Tears welling in her eyes, she looked down.

He lowered his head to her level and, placing a hand on her cheek, coaxed her into looking at him. "It's easy," he said, leaving out when I'm in love with you.

"Jim," she breathed, close enough that he could feel her breath on his lips. Her cheek leaned against his large hand and he used his thumb to swipe at a tear that had escaped from her eye.

She placed a hand on his chest and he thought she was going to push him away again. His heart sank into his stomach and he began to pull back when he felt her hand tighten on his shirt. Her eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips until she leaned forward and brushed her lips so lightly against his that he wasn't even sure it had happened.

She gave him a small smile. "Was that okay?" she said, so softly that he barely heard her.

He shook his head. "No," he said, "it should have been more like this." He pressed his lips against hers and dropped his hands to her hips. She slid her hands down his chest and leaned into him until his back was against the wall. His head was spinning as he felt her tongue against his lips.

Their kiss deepened until he was so lightheaded he had to break for air. "Wow," he said, not able to form any coherent thoughts. He kept his arms tight around her back, holding her close.

"Yeah," she said. They laughed when they noticed the goofy smiles on each other's faces. "You were right," she said, trying to be more serious and failing miserably. He tilted his head, confused. "That was better."

He smiled and seized her lips again, his senses spiraling until the only things he knew were her lips on his; her body in his arms.

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TBC…Thanks for all the amazing reviews! Keep 'em coming! They keep me going!

Also, I should mention that for the next chapter, I'm going to change the rating to M (or T at the least), so if you're offended by that, you should wait for the next chapter, and if you aren't, remember to change the rating setting to "all."