Patience, Grasshopper

Disclaimer - Sadly I own nothing.

"Take a seat in the living room, I'll just be a minute," he told her all but running in to the kitchen. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he pulled two beers from the refrigerator. He mentally head-slapped himself as he closed the door, realising he had just checked himself in the reflection. Unless he got himself together, and quickly, it was going to be a very long night. And not in the fun way...

Damn, was it hot in here? Or was he just nervous? He could literally feel himself coming out in a sweat. Wiping his brow with the back of his hand, he readjusted the air con, bringing the temperature down a few degrees and prayed that would work.

Jim made his way around the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards along the way as he looked for the bottle opener he knew he'd seen just days before. Why was it that things always managed to disappear just when you needed them?

"What the hell?" He sighed, as he rifled through yet another drawer. Unable to find what he was looking for, he decided that the Gods just weren't on his side tonight, and so fell back on a college favourite - a dishcloth would work just as well. Popping the first bottle open he placed it carefully on the counter. As he reached for the second bottle, he dropped the dishcloth on the floor.

Just as he bent down to pick the discarded dishcloth off the floor he grimaced as he felt the telltale beginnings of his stomach starting to churn. "Shit." He muttered the expletive as much as he could, aware that Pam was only in the next room. Pressing his hand into his now swollen belly, he wished that he could do something –anything to calm the obviously oncoming storm.

"Is everything okay in there?" His head shot up at the sound of Pam's concerned voice from the other room, realising his attempted quieting of his potty mouth - ha, apt phraseology - hadn't been anywhere close to successful.

"Yeah, just fine! I'll be right with you... in a minute." He called back, hoping like hell that his voice didn't give away how shit he suddenly felt.

"Fuck." He didn't even try to hold back this time; neither did he stop himself from banging his forehead against the counter. Realising that the cool of the countertop was actually kinda nice, he rested there a second while his brain spun as fast as his stomach with ideas on how to get out of this with minimal humiliation.

Lifting his head slightly, he reached for the faucet; maybe a little cool water on the back of his neck would make him feel better, like the coolness of the counter on his forehead – as the icy water trickled down his back, he shivered and a rush of unpleasant goose bumps quickly confirmed that this had not been a good idea. In fact, the situation was only becoming more 'desperate' the more he waited on the wild hope that it would pass. He thought about Pam sitting in the living room, and their plans for tonight, and cursed his body thoroughly - but mostly that damn sweet and sour chicken he snacked on earlier, which he now remembers sniffing far too briefly. But the worst part of all of this was hearing his Mom's voice from earlier warning him not to eat the 'dodgy' looking takeout. In his infinite wisdom he had done as he alwaysdid with his mom and totally ignored her advice, telling her it was only a day old - when in reality, it was more like three. He groaned. As rough as he was feeling right now, he knew worse was to come when his mom found out and uttered the four most hated words of his life - I told you so.

Before he could criticize himself further on that, powerful waves of pain rumbled through his stomach, which warned him that he really didn't have much time; he wiped the sweat from his face - when had he started to sweat? Another spasm took over, and his only coherent thought and immediate concern rapidly became: 'bathroom. NOW!'

Logically, Jim knew he would look back on this moment later with a mixture of horror and embarrassment, remembering the utter shock he saw on Pam's face as he - literally - ran past her, hand covering his mouth, while mentally begging whatever deity was listening that he actually made it to the bathroom before the situation went from bad to insanely humiliating.

XxXxXxX

Jim heard the light tap on the bathroom door; he found the slight pause before the 'Jim? Are you okay?' utterly adorable and he knew he'd have smiled if he hadn't been too busy throwing the contents of his stomach up. Although he soon realised that not answering her was either a big mistake or, pathetically, the best thing he could've done, as he heard her tentative I'm coming in." before the bathroom door opened slowly and her shadow fell across the floor.

He was only vaguely aware that she'd actually entered the bathroom fully, but he could feel his shoulders relax fractionally - pathetically - as she sat behind him and started stroking his back as he threw up once more in to the toilet. He vowed to himself that just as soon as he was done being sicker than the sickest dog ever, he was going to stop being so pitifully grateful that Pam was here, making him feel better just by being here and make it up to her. Lots.

Once it looked like he'd finally finished being sick, he looked up to see Pam handing him some water.

"Here, drink this."

"Thanks," he mumbled watching as she smiled at the realisation that he was so embarrassed to have been so sick tonight! But he reached his hand out to accept the cool bottle, once more insanely grateful that she was there and God, yes, giving him much needed water.

That gratitude morphed into total adoration as he felt her hand slip up his sweat soaked back and begin to rub in gentle, slow, soothing circles. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been sick like this. His throat burned and his insides felt as though they had been pulled in every direction possible, but Pam, his wonderful, amazing, caring Pam was making even the most miserable moments of this entire ordeal somehow bearable. He hadn't thought he could fall any further until right then when he realised that, yes, he really could. And he did.

"How you feeling?" she asked, the concern evident in her voice.

"Like shit."

Her sympathetic laugh brought a tiny smile to the corner of his mouth as she continued. "Yeah, you don't look so hot."

"I'm so sorry." He began to apologise, grovel if necessary, when the overwhelming urge to be sick once again overtook him.

He had no control of his body or it's heaving, as it tried to rid itself of whatever was causing him to be sick.

He felt her shift behind him and then saw her reach over and pull a hand towel from the rail before wetting it in the sink. More grateful than he could ever remember being as she placed the now damp material over his neck, the coolness feeling wonderful against his overheated skin.

"Jesus, this is so embarrassing." He groaned, his head resting on his arms that were still gripping the toilet bowl. "This is not how I wanted tonight to go…"

"Jim?"

"Yeah…"

"Be quiet," she teased gently, as she continued stroking his back. He felt her hand slipping under his damp t-shirt and regardless of his somersaulting stomach; he couldn't resist the playful comment.

"Feeling up a sick man, Pam. That's classy." He laughed softly, his stomach feeling as though he'd done 500 sit ups.

"Shut up. I'm just checking to see if you have a fever?" She told him as he felt her fingers now caressing the base of his back.

"Oh? So, nurse… do I have a fever?" He asked, amazed at himself that he could make jokes when he still felt like he'd gone ten rounds with a prize-fighter and very much come worst off.

"Yeah, I think you do. Do you have a thermometer?"

He turned to face her, his head still resting on his arms, that small smile from earlier now spreading over his face.

"Are you serious?" his eyebrows raised in amusement.

"Yes. I want to check how high your fever is."

"There's one in the medicine cabinet upstairs, in the bathroom."

"Think you can make it up there?" she asked, easing herself up on to her knees.

"I think I'm done… for now." He told her, grimacing as he flushed the toilet.

As she stood, he was thankful that her hand instinctively reached out to help him do the same.

As they made their way slowly through the hallway, he felt her lean over and grab her bag from the banister; all the while she gripped him tightly as she started to lead him up the stairs. All of that was more necessary to him just then than he liked to admit, but it was the simple movement of her thumb rubbing gently across the back of his hand, that truly meant the world to him in the moment. That small, natural gesture of comfort warmed him deep inside.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." She said as she walked them towards the bedroom, as though she'd done it a thousand times before.

Jim groaned inwardly. "I can't believe how long I've waited for you to say that to me, and now… this happens."

Pam turned and smiled at him. Her eyes warm with love and affection.

"Soon." She promised, pushing him gently so that he was sitting on his bed. First things first, I want to check your temperature." She said, already half way to the bathroom.

Jim sat, or more accurately, collapsed onto his bed – apparently the strain of being a standing person was far too difficult for his churned up body just then.

"Is this it?" She asked, waving a small machine in her hand as she came back into the room.

"Yeah."

"I literally have no idea what to do with this." She laughed, as she made her way back to him, placing herself firmly between his legs.

"It goes in my ear." He tells her, taking it from her hands, and placing a small cover over the tip.

"Oh."

"Where the hell did you think it went?" he teased, rubbing his grumbling stomach gently.

She blushed. "I don't know."

"Sure you don't."

"Shut up and give me that thing." She said, snatching it from his hand. "So, I just put it in your ear and wait?"

"Yeah, press the button on the back first, and it will beep at you when it's done."

He smiled again as she ever so gently placed the thermometer in his ear, while letting her other hand run her fingers lightly over his forehead, moving away some of the hair that had stuck to his brow while he was being sick.

His eyes closed at the touch of her soft hands. He wasn't expecting this, her taking care of him. He certainly wasn't expecting it to feel like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He thought as soon as she saw him puking his guts up, she'd be out of there, make an excuse and go home. He wouldn't have blamed her, he doesn't know if he could stomach watching someone throwing up like she did. But, he knew right then that he'd done Pam a huge disservice. He knew she wasn't that sort of person; she was a natural nurturer, no matter what she said. And he should have known better, especially after he'd seen her exactly like this with Ellie.

The machine beeped, causing him to jump slightly. She'd relaxed him so much; he more or less forgot what she was doing.

"101.4." She frowned, as she removed the thermometer from his ear. "I wonder if you can take Tylenol after you've been so unwell. Do you think you might have a bug…?"

"I'm pretty sure it's due to the extremely out of date takeout I ate earlier." He told her with a hint of embarrassment in his voice as he spoke.

She shook her head. "Did it taste bad?"

"It wasn't particularly nice, no."

"But you carried on eating it?" she asked, shaking her head at him.

"I was hungry…"

"Okay, well, I have no idea what to do with possible food poisoning, but I'm going to call Penny."

"Penny?"

"My sister."

"I know who Penny is, but why?" He asked, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.

"She's a nurse."

"Oh, okay."

"She reached in to her bag and pulled out her cell phone."

He could only hear Pam's side of the conversation, but the worry in her voice as she explained the situation to her sister made him fall in love with her a little more. He could see the concern in her eyes as she answered her sister's questions.

"That's great, thanks Penny. I'll call you again if I need you. Love you too"." He looked up at her again as she snapped her phone shut. "All right, so if this is food poisoning, which by the sounds of it, it is, we need to keep you hydrated. She also said it was okay for you to take some Tylenol to try and lower your fever."

He nodded, as he clutched at his stomach, wave of nausea once again over taking him.

"Are you okay?" She asked, noticing his face taking on a slight shade of grey.

"I think I'm going to be sick." He said, all but running to the bathroom, getting there just in time. Pam wasn't far behind him. Once again, she placed herself behind him, rubbing his back to try and make him feel a little better.

"Penny said this is what would happen."

"Urgh." He groaned, spitting in to the bowl, not caring that Pam might find that gross.

Jim felt Pam stand up behind him.

"All done?" She asked, popping open the cap of the toothpaste.

"I think so." He said, standing up. His legs shaking slightly.

"Here," she smiled, handing him his toothbrush. "This will make you feel a little better."

"Thanks." He mumbled to her retreating back.

"Where are your pyjamas?" She called from the bedroom.

"Top drawer of my dresser." He replied, his mouth full of toothpaste.

She came back in to the bathroom with a faded Phillies t-shirt and a pair of checked pyjama pants for him. She graced him with one more beautiful, if sympathetic smile; before she closed the door behind her while he changed.

After a few minutes he made his way back into his bedroom, shocked – no, stunned beyond belief - to find Pam sitting bare foot and cross legged on his bed, wearing purple sleeping shorts and a matching tank top and looking for all the world like that was exactly where she belonged.

"You're staying"? He asked, gulping.

"Oh, did you want me to go home?" She asked, her face turning beetroot red.

"God! You have no idea how much I wanted you to stay." he told her honestly. "I just didn't think you'd want to, you know, now."

Jim saw the relief wash across Pam's face as he said that. She moved over, patting the bed next to her.

"Come on, you need to try and get some sleep."

Sleep. That sounded so good right now. Who would have thought throwing up would be so exhausting.

He made his way over to the bed, climbing in next to Pam, who lay down next to him.

"Are you serious?" He asked.

"What?"

"Get under the covers, Pam."

"I didn't want to presume…" she said, her face once again turning a bright shade of pink.

"You know we were going to have mad, crazy, swinging from the lights, monkey-sex tonight, right?" He told her, not trying very hard at all to keep the smile off his face.

Covering her face with her hands, she laughed, "Oh my, God."

"What?"

"I can't believe you said that."

"I'm just telling it as it is, Pam. Now, just get under the covers."

Smiling shyly, she climbed in, pulling the covers up to her chin and reached for his hand, lacing their fingers.

"Goodnight. Wake me if you need me."

Lifting their joint hands out from under the covers, he brought her hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly.

"Sleep well, Pam."

XxXxXxX

Jim woke, a little confused and unsure how long he'd been asleep; he turned to look at Pam, taking in the soft sounds she made while she slept. He could feel her legs tucked up tightly against his thigh and he smiled in to the darkness as he let her warmth sink into himself. But of course, such an amazing moment couldn't last, not with his run of luck right now tonight, and suddenly, just like before the agonising cramps began ripping through his stomach. This must have been what woke him, he thought, as he lay still, hoping the pain would subside. His mouth began watering incessantly, warning him that he needed to get to the bathroom – and soon. Again.

He pulled the covers back, racing as quietly as he could to the bathroom, his hand clamped tightly over his mouth, praying he'd get there in time, and that his sudden movements hadn't disturbed a sleeping Pam.

As soon as he got to the bathroom, he dropped to his knees, getting there just in time. He soon felt Pam slide up behind him.

"Still paying for the out-of-date takeout, huh?" she asked, kissing his back through his t-shirt.

Jim wanted to respond, but this time his body wasn't co-operating. His throat felt like it was on fire, and his stomach ached from all the retching.

"Silly question, huh?" He could feel her smile through his t-shirt.

"I haven't been this sick since college," he moaned, dry heaving as he spoke.

Once he was sure he was done, he relaxed back against, Pam, who loosely wrapped her arms around him.

"Thisisreally not how I wanted to spend our first night together, you know that right?

"Really? I think this is kinda sexy," she teased, her hands smoothing the hair at the back of his neck. "Come on, brush your teeth and come back to bed."

He stood up and their eyes locked in the mirror, their stare hot and intense. "You're killing me here, Pam."

She grinned, patting him on the butt as she made her way back to the bedroom.

Once he'd cleaned himself up, he climbed back in to bed, feeling Pam snuggle up against him. It was the type of comfort he'd had no idea he needed, but it was everything in that moment. Her fingers drawing soft patterns across his stomach caused him to shiver.

"Oh, sorry. Do you not like that?" She asked.

He threw his left arm over his eyes and sighed. "Mmm! No, it feels good – almost too good, just don't stop. Ever?"

He let himself sink deeper into the beautiful touch of the woman he loved before whispering "Thanks for… this, for it all. I love you."

He was met with silence, Pam having already fallen back to sleep.

XxXxXxX

Jim awoke the next time to the sound of Ellie's giggles floating up from downstairs. He attempted to roll over slightly, so as to get a better look at the woman sleeping peacefully beside him, only to find the space next to him both cool and empty. Panic shot through him, his brain unable to keep up with the thoughts running through his head. Had she woken up that morning, leaving quickly and quietly so she didn't wake him, hoping to get away without making awkward small talk… no, what was he thinking? This is Pam, the woman who looked after him last night, as though leaving was the last thing on her mind.

He sat up quickly, regretting it instantly as a cruel mixture of dizziness and nausea overtook him, making him lean his head back against the headboard. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to focus on what was going on downstairs, but all he could hear was the sound of his own staggered breathing, the thought that he might have been hallucinating briefly crossed his mind. He attempted to sit up again, inhaling deeply as he tried to ignore the way his stomach churned every time he moved. He sat for a few minutes, trying to get himself accustomed to being vertical again, after what felt like the longest sleep he'd ever had, before making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Jim held on tightly to the banister as he made his way down the stairs, hoping he was quiet enough that he wouldn't disturb whatever was going on downstairs. He was exhausted by the time he made it to the bottom and felt as though he had to lean against the wall behind him to remain standing. But from there, he had the perfect view in to the living room. There, curled up on the floor together was Ellie and Pam, enjoying what looked like an imaginary tea party.

"Jewse?" Ellie asked, handing Pam a little plastic tea cup as she lifted her pinkie up towards her mouth and flipped her hand up and down.

The look of utter adoration on Pam's face made his chest hurt.

"Juice, at a tea party? I always knew I was raising a classy lady." Jim teased, as he made his way in to the room.

"How you feeling?" Pam asked, her eyes never leaving her game with Ellie.

He groaned.

"That good, huh?"

Ellie looked up at him and frowned. "Dadda ow…?" Ellie asked, as she clumsily tapped her index fingers together next to her tummy.

"That's right baby, daddy's tummy hurts."

"Gug…" the little girl offered, as she crossed her arms over her chest and attempted to stand up at the same time, landing in Pam's lap in a fit of giggles.

"What's she saying?" Pam asked, as she helped Ellie back up, her little arms immediately extending towards Jim.

"She was asking if I wanted a hug. Weren't you, sweetheart?" He grinned, picking her up and placing her on his lap, his little girl's arms wrapping tightly around him as she gave him a cuddle. "That makes me feel so much better, babygirl" Jim smiled at his daughter, dropping a kiss to her forehead, surprised and elated that he meant every word.

"Wow, so have you two had a fun morning? I'm so sorry my mom just dropped her off like this…" He tried apologising.

"It's fine. I told her she could go home," Pam laughed, pulling herself up on the sofa next to him. "I hope that was okay…"

"Are you kidding me?"

"I wasn't sure…"

"Was my mom, okay?" He asked, wincing at the thought of Pam telling her about last night.

"She said, and I quote, '…and it serves him right'"

"Urgh. I knew it." He groaned, rubbing his hands over his stubbly face. "I bet she was smiling as she said it, huh?"

"I wouldn't say smiling… maybe more like smirking or maybe grinning." She teased, stroking Ellie's bare foot, which was now bouncing on her leg.

"Has she been home long?"

"About an hour. We were just about to grab something to eat."

"Please, don't talk about food." He groaned meekly, his hand massaging his still sore stomach.

Ellie reached over to the fruit bowl which was sitting on the table next to Jim. "Dadda, eech?" she offered, handing him a piece of fruit.

Jim shook his head and laughed. "That's not a peach," he explained, putting his fingers on his cheek and pulling them together as if he were plucking something off of the surface. "That's an apple. Can you sign apple?" He asked, as he hooked his fist and brought it up to his cheek, twisting his hand, as though he were twisting off the stem of an apple.

Ellie attempted to copy him, bringing her hand up to her face and resting her fingers on her cheek. He could see Pam out of the corner of his eye, trying out the sign as well.

"Is this right?" she asked excitedly, forming the sign effortlessly.

He nodded. "If my child wasn't sitting on my lap, and you know, I didn't feel like death. I'd kiss the hell out of you right now."

XxXxXxX

"Pam?" Jim called from his makeshift bed on the sofa later that afternoon.

Yeah?" Pam asked, walking back into the living room with Ellie perched on her hip.

"I just wanted to know where you guys were." He asked croakily, watching his sleepy daughter play with Pam's hair. Enthralled by the way the curls sprang back after she gently tugged on them.

"You fell asleep, so we were just doing some reading in the kitchen." She explained softly, shifting Ellie to the other side, so that she could face Jim. "She's a big fan of The Hungry Caterpillar, huh?"

He laughed. "Oh, yeah. We can't just read that book once."

"You wanna go give daddy a cuddle?" Pam asked, lowering the tot to the floor, only for his little girl to attempt to use his girlfriend's leg as a step ladder to climb her way back up. Apparently, his daughter would rather have cuddle time with Pam than say hello to her daddy. Strangely, he was very ok with that.

"Sorry." Pam blushed; clearly embarrassed that Ellie would rather stay with her than go to Jim.

Sitting up, he couldn't take his eyes off of the woman standing in front of him; it frightened him at how quickly she owned his heart. And he realised, right then, with Ellie snuggled safely in her arms, that she was it for him. This is what he'd been so desperately craving. "Don't worry about it." He said reassuringly.

Looking over at him, Pam bit her bottom lip shyly. "How about we both join you for a cuddle?" she suggested, making her way over to the sofa. Lifting up the blanket, Jim patted the space next to him. He shifted a little, so that his head rested against the back of the couch and relaxed at the feel of Pam and Ellie snuggled up next to him.

TBC

Please please please let me know hat you think. I really do have so much planned for this story. This is just the start :)