AN: This is a sort of alternate universe type fanfic where Pam does go through with her wedding to Roy, but there never was a Casino Night. Set between season 2 and 3.

And I know Jim and Pam are out of character, but I'm just having a little fun with them ;)

Also, I own nothing.

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Jim can't believe that it's happening when it's happening. He couldn't think when he opened his front door, and Pam was standing there. He couldn't speak when she looked up at him, her eyes full of tears, and said, "Married life isn't what I thought it'd be." He couldn't hear anything else after she reached up to kiss him.

So Jim cannot believe that he is standing in his kitchen, wearing a pair of old pajama pants while Pam pulls him down to her, presses herself against him. He can feel the curve of her body, feel her hips below his.

He's not thinking anymore, he's lifting her up onto the countertop, letting her legs wrap around him while his hands run through her hair. And they're still kissing, and her tongue is in his mouth, and it seems like this is the time that fireworks should be going off behind him.

They don't even make it to his bedroom. He tries to bring her there, but he reaches the couch and can't take it anymore. They still kissing each other awkwardly as she fumbles with his belt, as he tries to undo the buttons of her shirt.

It takes too long, but finally they're exposed to each other. Faintly in the back of his mind, Jim knows he should stop. He knows that this moment is all wrong, and that this is probably not the reason Pam came here in the first place. But her hands are on him, on parts of him she has never touched before, and with a smooth thrust he's in her.

The sex isn't as amazing as he had always imagined it. It's bumpy and awkward and at one point she hits her head on the metal armrest of the couch, but doesn't complain. He comes too soon, and goes down on her to make sure she finishes too.

They can't cuddle on the couch, and Jim desperately wants to. He wants to cuddle and talk and figure out what's going on with her, with Roy, with them. Those aren't conversations he can see them having on the ratty couch on the living room, so he scoops Pam up and carries her all the way to his bedroom, bridal-style.

He tries to talk to her then, but she doesn't want to talk about it. "It's too up in the air" she claims, and wont look him in the eye. The floating feeling he's had since she first kissed him starts to fall, just slightly.

She ends up sleeping over, curled up in a pair of his old boxers and an oversized t-shirt. He thinks she looks adorable in his clothes. He puts an arm around her before he falls asleep, thinking that the conversation they desperately need to have will have to be delayed until the morning. Cause they'll have all the time in the world to figure everything out now, right?

When Jim wakes up the next morning, he thinks about the dream he must of had. Because there is no way that Pam came to his house yesterday, had sex with him, slept with him, and then disappeared before he woke up in the morning. There is no way she would do that to him. But she's not there. He looks at the place where he was so certain that she had been laying the night before, and tries to convince himself it was a dream. It had to be a dream. It was a dream. Except when he goes downstairs he finds a sock beside the couch that definitely does not belong to him.

He spends the rest of Saturday and Sunday in agony. Should he call her? Why doesn't she call him? What the hell is going on between them? Because there is something going on. He gets into his car and debates driving to her house, but then just ends up sitting in the driveway for over an hour. It's already Sunday, so he decides to wait until Monday morning. There has to be some reasoning behind this all. Maybe she's moving out, and too busy to call. Maybe she's already in a new apartment, but doesn't have a phone yet. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

It's Monday, and he's awake way too early. He's nervous, and adjusts his tie in the mirror over and over again. He's losing the feeling of her lips on his. He arrives early and parks in his usual spot. Then he sits, drumming nervously on the wheel until others begin to arrive. He wonders if she'll take a cab from wherever she is, or if a friend will drive her to work. He wonders why she left. He burns with shame when he thinks of how quickly the sex was over. He just loves her so much.

Roy's truck pulls in, and his knuckles on the wheel go white. He stops breathing, but doesn't even realize it. Because Pam is in the passengers seat. Pam is laughing at something Roy has said as they walk into the building together. Pam doesn't even look over at his car before she steps inside the door after Roy.

He's late coming in to work. His mind can't function. 'What's' and 'why's' float around, each worse than the last. He can't even fathom the idea that Roy and Pam got back together after when happened between him and Pam. Roy is way too much of the jealous type to allow that to happen. But still, he councils himself, there must be some reason. Soon, he can't handle not knowing anymore, and he goes inside.

Michael makes jokes at his expense when he sits down at his desk, but he doesn't even hear them. Disappointed at the overwhelming lack of response he's getting from Jim, Michael eventually wanders off. Jim stares at Pam. Pam stares at her computer.

It takes a little while to muster the confidence, but eventually Jim walks over to Pam's desk, trying to pretend everything is natural, but really, he can feel himself sweating. He leans over her desk, and Pam pretends to be finishing some paperwork for Michael.

"Hey, can I talk to you?" he asks softly.

"Sure, what's up?" Pam looks up at him, and he feels a slight flame of anger for the first time. How can she act like nothing is up when everything, everything is up.

"I want to talk about the weekend."

She's still staring up at him, and he swears the softest sigh escapes her before she replies.

"Sure. Lets go somewhere for lunch."

He walks back to his desk. Lunch seems forever away. It is forever away. The clock tickles slowly. His brain is betraying him, thinking about how he can't wait to feel her soft lips again, even after all the anguish she put him through this weekend.

When it's finally time, Pam stands up and grabs her purse. She motions at him, and he puts on his jacket before following her out the door.

He tries to kiss her in the parking lot, but she deflects him, and gets into the passengers seat of his car.

They eat at a small soup-and-sandwich spot a few minutes drive away from Dunder-Mifflin. She seems really absorbed in her cucumber and cream-cheese sandwich, so he starts the conversation.

"What's going on with us?"

"Us?" she replies. "I thought you were going to ask about me and Roy."

Jim feels like the restaurant is getting really small, but expanding really quickly all at the same time.

"What's going on with you and Roy?"

Pam takes a bite her sandwich and takes her time swallowing, takes her time replying.

"We.. We were at a bad spot. But I think we're going to get over it. I didn't tell him about.. about me and you so I think we're going to keep going. We are going to keep going."

And she's still talking, but Jim isn't hearing any more of it. She's not leaving Roy. She's not going to be with him. She's not, she's not, she's not. He doesn't wait for her to finish talking before he stands up and leaves. He can't be in there anymore. He wants to drive away, let her find her own way back to work, but he loves her too much to leave her stranded. They drive back in silence.

He tries to hate her then. He doesn't look at her while she sits in her reception chair, eyeing him nervously. He can't believe this is happening. He knows it's stupid to think that it could have all worked out like he had planned in his head. This wasn't some fairy tale. This is real life. Pam isn't some air-headed floozy. She wouldn't just break up a marriage because of a few arguments with her new husband. She wouldn't throw herself at him, realizing she had made a mistake. She wouldn't dump Roy because of a bit of office flirtation. Jim knows this, but he hates knowing it. He hates himself for letting go of his protective shield when Pam came to his door. He hates himself, and tries desperately to transfer that hate to Pam. But he loves her, and can't make himself transfer the blame without feeling even guiltier.

They don't talk about it again. They don't really talk about anything anymore. He doesn't go to visit her at her desk, she doesn't eat lunch with him. He sells more paper than ever before. Dwight becomes friendlier to him as the pranks become a thing of the past. He loses weigh, but then gains in back, and then a few more. Michael stops calling him his BFF.

* * *

He doesn't know how to react. He can't speak, he can't move. Because Pam is in his front door again. She is back in his house, eyes red. Tissues are balled up in her fist.

"Roy just doesn't get it! We agreed to try to have a baby and now he's suddenly changing his mind!"

Jim is still standing there. Tears are running down her cheeks, and he feels useless. He hates himself when he reaches out to brush them away with the pad of his thumb.

"And you know what he's blaming it on? The economy! He says the economy isn't good enough for him to want to have a kid. How stupid is that?" Pam can't even breathe she's so angry at Roy. "He never keeps his promises, or does laundry or the dishes, or spend quality time with me!"

Then Pam is hugging him, gripping the fabric of his sweater beneath his shoulder blades and crying into his chest. And his arms are around her, one hand rubbing her back.

"Thank you so much more being here for me Jim." She looks up at him. "It really means a lot to me. I don't really have anyone else to turn to in moments like these."

And he's kissing her, fiercely, because right now he hates her. He cuts her lip with his tooth and doesn't care. How can she not talk to him for months after what happened? How can she act like this is how it's always been? How dare she?

Pam is kissing him back, and Jim rips her blouse, not caring about the buttons. His hands are on her, savagely, and she's digging her nails into his back through the sweater.

Abruptly, he breaks the kiss off and takes her hand, leading her to his bedroom.

That night, he does not finish early. He makes Pam arch her back with pleasure, makes her come time and time again before finally collapsing onto her as he orgasms. She has a bite mark beneath her collarbone like she was making out with some seventeen year old after their first date. She says something, but he's not listening. They fall asleep with her chest pressed up against his back. In the morning he rolls over but she's already gone.

Jim can't believe this is what his life has turned into. The visits are never planned, never organized. Sometimes he wants to ignore the doorbell when it rings. He wants to have another girl over when she comes to his door. He wants to be out on a date with someone beautiful. But he never is. He opens the door and listens to Pam complain about Roy, about money that he spends without telling her, about how he never talks to her anymore, about how he's getting fat and she's not as attracted to him. He listens to her talk about anything she's unhappy about, and then he fucks her. He's never kind, or gentle. It's never what he imagined their time together would be like. There are no candles, no rose petals, no nothing. Usually they don't even leave the downstairs. He fucks her on the couches, up against the wall, anywhere.

He doesn't really talk to to anyone anymore. He avoids Roy at all costs. He sits at his desk and does his work and Michael makes stupid jokes and Dwight doesn't even give him the time of day. He sells paper and puts his paychecks in the bank. He thinks he might be depressed, but doesn't put any more thought into it than that. But mostly he sits at home by himself, waiting for the doorbell to ring.