Title: Late Night Musings
Disclaimer: The Office belongs to me as The Pope controls communism. As in, not that likely.
Summary: Jim, the boy she loved, was committed to another. And they'd just made out. Great.
Spoilers: Phyllis' Wedding.
A.N.:. So, done.

It took a good few months longer then I thought it would, but I'm actually quite glad with how it turned out, and just want to take a moment to thank all who reviewed on this... thing. Especially the last review I received, which reminded me that this had yet to be completed, and people actually wanted me to.

Review if you have a heart, if you don't (or have misplaced it) have one then don't worry about reviewing. Or go find your damn heart and review.

Either way, enjoy.

Crashing through the house, keys still hanging in the door, Pam just managed to make it to the couch before taking off Jim's coat, as he'd so chivalrously given it to her as they'd exited the restaurant (the sexual harassment papers were stuffed between the seats in Jim's car). Kissing Jim was entirely nothing like kissing Roy. And for that Pam was grateful. With Roy it was, good. The giddiness at finding a boyfriend made their romance seem like a whirlwind affair, every touch was sacred and every date a remnant of Casablanca. But Pam hadn't exactly imagined becoming engaged to Roy and the Casablanca romance was swept into a quiet passionless happiness. It was probably consistency that had kept them together thus far. But Jim, Jim changed everything.

With his boyish good looks and a brightness that lightened up the dull dreary work day, Pam's complacent life changed from normal to stifling. Every morning changed from dread to optimism when getting ready for work, wondering what joke or prank would be played on Dwight. What inside jokes would be shared during lunch, what quip Pam could crack to make Jim double over in laughter, hair sprayed about, barely contained gasps as words were only just able to get out.

And then when it was time to return home, not dread, never dread, but a heaviness overcame Pam when she got into the car. To leave Jim and his brightness, to go home with Roy and be stuck in the television light, it was deadening. But Pam chugged along, trying to make the best out of an awkward situation, "Hello Mom? Great news, I just realized I'm more turned on by Jim leaning over my desk than Roy's kisses. Great, so I'll see you this weekend." A conversation every Mom wanted to here.

A gentle tug on Pam's lower lip and she was back in the present. Pam was currently more then enjoying Jim laying next to her, for all intents and purposes 'making out' as his hand ghosted over her side, and then exerted pressure,

"OW!" Her luck catching up with her, Jim had just caressed her bruise, which really hurt.

"What? Are you ok? What's wrong?" Concern clouding his confused speech, Pam found the time to smile in her pain. Which quickly disappeared as he shifted entirely off of her.

"No, it's fine. I've just got a bruise from this morning." And to exercise this point, Pam carefully sat up, her body tilted towards him.

"Did Roy hurt you?" Sifting from concern to anger, his voice lowered.

"No, it's, I." The only thing Pam had left out of her colorful description of the morning's event, was how she'd obtained the bruise on her left side.

"Pam, if he ever hurt you-"

"No, of course not. I-, It's embarrassing." His look relaxed from moments before, and his tone became teasing. Pam felt herself relax.

"Confession is good for the soul."

"Oh? And where'd you get that line from?"

"A book about chicken soup."

"Oh really?" A solemn nod,

"It's a very spiritual book. Got me through some rough times." Laughter bubbled from Pam, a little stiff because of her concern for her side and the recent trauma it had gone though. "I could lend it to you, for a price." More then seeing where this was going, Pam tried to end the conversation.

"Sorry, no can do."

"Oh come on. I'm just a bit curious how Pam Beesly managed to get a bruise on her side this morning between waking up late and walking three blocks in the cold with wet hair and no coat."

"Jim."

"Just an inside out shirt, probably stuck to her back from the towel-less shower.." Recognition dawned, "You slipped."

"No, I didn't."

"You fell on your bathroom floor because of a puddle." His hands danced at the edge of her shirt, "I could take a look at it, to make sure there's no internal bleeding."

"I believe the definition of a bruise is internal bleeding."

"Still, want to make sure it isn't too serious."

"What's too serious for a bruise?"

"There's a color scale, and if it's anything past a yellow.." His dancing fingers enclosed on the ends of her still upside down shirt and lifted the hem up.

"Jim!"

"Pam." Faces grinning, heart beats rising, hair concocted into odd positions, they were back. And so was Jim's roommate.

"Hold on, I'll see.. Yeah, Jim, Karen's on the line and heads up, she's really pissed about- oh hey Pam."

"Hey Mark." Pam tried to remember Mark's last name. It was a rule she had, if anyone found her making out with someone, she at least remember their last name and most embarrassing experience they'd ever gone through.

"Long time no see."Handing the phone over to Jim, Mark's eyes roamed over her shirt in a purely clinical sense. Her cheeks lit up as she realized the connotations of an inside out shirt while sitting on the couch with Jim, with make-out hair, most likely a dazed expression on her face, that Jim had caused. Jim, who looked upset and cross and had a stress wrinkle on his forehead.

She smoothed it out her fingers as she pondered what had caused it.

Oh right, Karen.

His girlfriend.

In case anyone was keeping score, Mike had just walked into Jim and Pam having a moment on his couch, with her wearing an inside out shirt, cheeks inflamed, while Jim belonged to another.

What was with this day?

"Hey Karen." A wince, Pam sought to keep talking with Mark

"Yeah, I've been working hard on art." Working hard on art?

"Oh cool. Anything new happen recently?" His look, how often did he and Jim talk?

"Oh well." Distracted from Jim's growing anger and distance between them, Pam spilled. "I recently went home with my ex-fiancé (I broke up with him for Jim who ended up moving away and meeting Karen) and unable to sleep with him, he went into an alcoholic binge and barged into my office this morning when I wasn't there. Why wasn't I there? I had to walk home from Roy's apartment, and when I woke up that morning with only a few hours sleep I had a cold shower with no real towel to dry myself off of, no real breakfast, no car, just a bus. Roy then continued to terrorize the building until I arrived in the hopes of winning me back and instead succeeded into embarrassing me and I escaped into the woman's bathroom. I was then forced into watching a strip show with Michael as the pole dancer and then Jim pulled a Ryan. Oh, and somewhere in-between there I told the entire Office (Jim and Karen included) that I'm in love with Jim and have been in some time." Quiet, untold quiet filled the room, (except for Karen's voice coming clearly through the phone) and then Mark spoke.

"I meant with your art."

"Oh."

"But I'm glad about you and Jim." A smile a glance in Jim's direction, "It's been a long time coming." and Mark left the room.

And before Pam had gotten her embarrassing moment.

It seemed Mark got more then enough of his share though.

As Pam quickly shut her eyes with unnecessary passion, wondering the hell was going on in her life, she undoubtably overheard Jim's conversation with Karen.

It was not going well.

"I didn't plan anything."

"What was I supposed to do, let Pam get hit?"

"I'm the one not behaving maturely?" Repulsed and enraptured by this conversation- the fraying of Jaren- Pam made a mental note to get off the couch and moved out of the living room. Two minutes later she was still routed to the spot, but that was because of an entirely different reason.

"Because I love her." So quiet, so sure, so beautiful, determined, unguided, as if the sentence was for her and her alone, there was no mistake, Jim loved her. Jim loved Pam.

And Pam felt herself unable to look away.

To move away.

Instead she held his hand as he fought with his current-to-ex-as-every-word-slipped-past-lips-girlfriend, waiting for him as he'd waited for her, listening to fights and excuses, poorly hidden barbs (on both ends) and the inexplicable truth that was this; this too shall end, so hold on, the turbulence seems never-ending, but the big finish is with hands held and hearts beating.

Pam kinda liked this inexplicable truth being spoken, even if it did sound like it had been written late at night and after much green tea.

The End.

Finally.