Ha, okay, I got no reviews for the first chapter, even though I got some hits, and all I can really say is what the hell. Please, tell me how I'm doing.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Office, or NBC...
Pam rolled over, slowly waking to the feel of something tickling her right cheek.
Dark, silky hair was splayed out next to her, some of the ends making contact with her face. Wait, what?
She turned her to gaze to the body next to her, the comforter covering both of them. Karen. Karen.
Karen. This wasn't her house. This wasn't her house. Karen was beside her. In bed.
She was suddenly aware of the familiar feel of cottonmouth, which she always got as a part of her hangovers. She needed coffee.
She let her legs drop shakily onto the hardwood floor, stumbling towards what she thought, no, remembered was the kitchen. Boxes laid on the floor, her jacket was draped over the arm of the sofa. Oh, God.
The cupboards had been fully stocked, Pam easily found some Maxwell House coffee and turned on the Coffeemate.
The night came back to her in a rush. Punch, lots of it, at the office. Kevin's birthday. Karen. Karen yelling... Karen yelling at Jim. Pam sobbing, getting a ride home, Karen kissing her. Wait, her kissing Karen. No... she couldn't even recollect who had initiated the kissing part.
Soon, they were at Karen's apartment, kissing more, in her bed, clothes gone, both feeling good and Pam really drunk. Jesus, she'd gotten drunk and became a lesbian over night.
She jumped at the sound of footsteps behind her, whipping her head to see Karen blinking lazily.
"Coffee?" Pam tried her best to smile, despite last night's memories.
"Yeah." Karen sighed, taking a seat on the chair closest to her. Pam came over, handing her a steaming cup.
"I think we both know what happened," Pam said. Karen looked back up, nodding. Pam continued.
"Yeah, and I just, I don't know if you want to forget, or..." She trailed off, tears developing in the corners of her eyes, no longer shining. Karen set down her coffee, standing up and putting an arm around Pam.
"This is so fucked up, isn't it? I mean, I wasn't even that drunk and you, you were totally over the edge and then we started kissing. Who kissed who?" Karen was near hysterical now, shaking just as much as Pam was. Pam shook her head.
"I don't know." Karen pulled away, hands pulling at her hair.
"I should have stopped it. I was way more sober than you, it wasn't your fault." Pam looked up, emotions making her chest hurt.
"I don't even want to think now. How about we both skip work? What time is it, anyways?" The shades were all drawn, so it was unnaturally dark in the apartment, a gray film keeping everything from sticking out vividly. That's okay, Pam thought. I have a hangover.
Karen looked at the clock on the stove. "It's noon."
Pam sighed, holding on to the counter, thinking up a plan.
"Got any good movies?"
XXXX
"Okay, so we've watched The Breakfast Club and The Princess Bride. Any other favorites, Beesly?"
Pam held her chin, thinking hard. "Ummm... well, a year ago we played this game, Desert Island. I was supposed to choose my five favorite movies to bring to a deserted island. I never got to pick my favorite..." She stared guiltily at the floor. Karen reached over, pinching her knee.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Tell me what the movie was, silly. I have tons of them!"
"Fine. I really like, um, Forrest Gump?" It came out sounding like a question, but Karen just smiled.
"I love that one. It still manages to make me laugh and cry every time." She was the guilty looking one now, giggling anyways.
"Same here. It's Tom Hank's best movie, no doubt." After Pam said that, Karen smiled.
"Let's watch."
As they settled into their blankets, getting ready for another two and a half hours of movie-watching, Karen uneasily spoke up.
"So... desert island. Sounds like something Jim would think up." Pam took her attention away form the movie, staring deep into Karen's eyes.
"Yeah. He did. We were supposed to pick five DVDs, I never got to pick my all-time favorite." Pam stared at the carpeting, noting the funny little swirls and a few stretched threads. The silence made her ears throb.
Karen reached up, oh-so-gently brushing a piece of hair out of Pam's eyes. It was the one curl that never actually behaved itself, the one that sometimes fell in the way while she was typing and ruined her finger's rhythm. Yeah, that curl.
Karen's hands were so soft, touching her forehead and in some funny little way, it made Pam feel beautiful.
This time, she couldn't blame alcohol, or heartbreak, or anything else, for that matter. She could only blame the fact that she wanted, needed, had never before felt this way about, Karen.
This time, Karen couldn't say it was because Pam was the one little tiny piece of Jim, and that was why she was doing this. She couldn't say that she felt bad for Pam, she could say anything. She could only say that she had never desired anyone this badly.
They didn't talk, not when Karen stood up and took Pam's hand, leading her into the bedroom. They didn't utter a sound when they both began to take off their clothes, how did this go with a girl? They had managed the night before, but they were both feeling a little hazy about that night.
They didn't get crazy, it was slowly coming to them. When they laid on Karen's soft bed, the thick comforter, they didn't leap onto each other and make passionate love. Instead they took the other in, just staring.
XXXX
Pam closed her eyes. Karen's hand traced the line of her breasts, not fast and light enough to tickle but not enough to make her move back. It was the lightness of her touch and slowness of her tracing to bring out a little moan. Pam leaned in, giving her a warm kiss, the one that made her heat up between her legs and toes shiver.
Karen felt the throbbing, she wanted, wanted, wanted. She needed this, soon. She wondered, who would tell Jim? Would they tell Jim? Would it all just blow over in a day or two, dismissed as a stupid stunt the two pulled because they were feeling a little crazy?
No, she thought. While they both moaned and moved through their climaxes, which felt different than anything they had ever felt in their entire lives, they both knew.
Would he even want to know?
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