» Worth My While ; The Office ; Jim/Pam.

[Nebula]

A/N: Howdy! So I’ve been rewatching The Office recently and have accidentally re-awoken my past hyperfixation on this show/this couple (honestly they're just a big comfort ship for me and it's what we need rn lol). The basic premise of this little multi-part thing is "chronicling the jim/pam saga via vignettes, one per season, where one or the other is sick in each and how what's going on in each season affects how they interact with each other". I've decided to write and post this fic in separate parts because I want to write each ‘season’ as I get to/experience them in my rewatch (so I've just finished s1 and I’m at the very start of s2) but here’s part one!

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Season 1 (June 2005);

Jim tended to notice things.

The documentary crew picked up on that right from the beginning. They always turned to him to capture his reaction to the often ridiculous, unorthodox things constantly happening around him in their completely orthodox-looking office. If Michael or Dwight said something inappropriate or borderline sociopathic, they knew that at the very least Jim would notice the wrongness of it all. They'd call him into the conference room for his little talking heads and know that they were going to hear a rational, more often than not astute (even if sarcastically witty) explanation of whatever strange events were unfolding.

So yeah, Jim noticed things. Especially when it came to Pam.

In the years since they'd met he'd noticed a whole lot about her. Had found it impossible not to; silly stuff. Like her favourite flavour of yogurt, for example. Or the way her nose scrunches up all cutely when she finds something super funny, compared to when something’s just merely amusing. Even the difference in her posture when she’s actually working compared to when she’s just pretending to when Michael does a random sweep of the room (usually looking for someone to irritate, rather than anything manager-like, but still).

He noticed the previous day when she looked kind of run down, movements/expressions a little sluggish, and she kept clearing her throat with what looked like winces while they were discussing yet another one of Angela’s cat parties. It was scheduled for this Saturday and Jim had gotten an invite, Pam hadn’t. She didn’t even like Angela all that much, but still claimed to be offended at being left out. He’d just laughed and joked that he should throw a rival party at the exact same time that she definitely was invited to. But he couldn’t ignore the little niggle of concern in the back of his head telling him that something was off with her.

By the end of the day she looked like she could fall asleep at her desk at any minute, her head propped up on her hand and her eyes staring blearily at the screen, heavy-lidded and threatening to flutter closed. Jim was poised, ready to get up to go and covertly try and check on her when Roy lumbers into the room to walk her out. So he let her go instead, eyes following her all the way to the door until she was out of sight.

For a long time Roy had actually been quite cool with he and Pam’s friendship, which Jim always considered to be one of the only redeeming qualities he had going for him, because not a lot of guys would be. But for some reason for the last couple of months or so, Jim’s been noticing a lot more tension between them than what was there before. He shoots him dirty looks when he walks in on him leaning over Pam’s desk, chatting before they head out. Speaks to Jim (only when he absolutely has to) in this weird, brittle tone that clearly indicates he has very little time for him. He makes sure to stand extra close to Pam when they’re in Jim’s company.

It was almost like Roy knew how much he loved her, even if she didn’t. Jim would’ve bet he did, if he wasn’t more sure of the fact that if he did know Jim would be a dead man. Maybe he did know, but was just so sure that Pam wouldn’t have the nerve to leave him regardless.

Jim’s concerns are vindicated no less than ten seconds after he gets into work the next morning and she very clearly has a cold.

“Dunder Mbifflin, this is Pam…” her voice chimes familiarly as he passes by her desk to hang up his coat and bag, tired-sounding and ladden with congestion that rounds out her ‘m’s into ‘b’s and her ‘n’s into ‘d’s. Which… come to think of it is rather unfortunate when your name is Pam and you answer the phones for a company called Dunder Mifflin. Why does Jim think that’s, like, hopelessly cute? It really shouldn’t be.

She’s just cute in general; ergo, making everything she does cute by default.

He lingers as she continues, a scrunched up ball of tissue pressed under her nose with her free hand. She looks like she’s struggling, her voice wavering a little as she tries to get the words out and get off the phone as quickly (but politely) as possible.

“No, he’s ndot in yet….. Says here he has a dentist appointment scheduled this mborning…. Y-Yhheah, I’ll take a message and have him call you back…”

It’s a speedy goodbye before she more or less slams the phone down, face falling as she twists away from the desk, fingers rushing to unball the tissue and clamp it over her nose and mouth.

“hhH’kssschuh!”

She sounds miserable and he winces a little in sympathy. He has a sudden urge to do something to comfort her, like tuck her into his side, or even just give her a hug.

“Bless you. You sound… very healthy indeed” he says, adopting his usual position of leaning on crossed arms on top of her desk. She swivels back around with a sad sniffle, tucking the tissue up into her cardigan sleeve.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” she retorts, managing a small smile for him that makes him glad he’d chosen the casual, comedic route. Though it makes Jim’s chest ache in a way that would have him questioning if he was getting sick if the pain wasn’t so freakin’ commonplace at this point.

She drops the act quickly however, as if it was tiring just to keep it up. “You’re probably going to want to keep your distance for today, I’m super gross and probably super contagious right now”

Jim shrugs “Eh, I think I’ll take my chances, Beesly”.

“Roy didn’t” She says it off-handedly, under her breath with her eyes cast downwards, as if she hadn’t intended to bring it up but just couldn’t quite hold it in.

Jim just shoots her a questioning glance, and all of a sudden she’s very distracted by whatever is displayed on her computer screen and so doesn’t meet his eye.

“Nothing, really. He just slept on the couch last night”

Part of Jim couldn’t quite believe it; the irritating little corner of his brain he’s grown increasingly accustomed to over the years, the one that argues that he would never do that to her, physically could never, so therefore how could any other guy? One that was lucky enough to have her? For the most part though he’s disappointed but not surprised. He mustn't school his disapproving expression quick enough, because she’s quick to tack on-

“Don’t look like that! He’s going to Philly for his cousin’s bachelor party in a couple days, he’s been looking forward to it. I get it, it’s ndot a big deal”.

Jim just bites his tongue, unsure if he can come up with anything in response that would sound tactful and not in some way more annoyed than he was entitled to be. They fall into an extended beat of silence, one that was comfortable, but slightly charged with something distinctly unsaid. Like they’d both unspokenly decided to let the rest of the conversation slide, for the sake of… something.

He watches with mild interest as she scrolls through her emails, expression heavy and tinged with red in the fluorescent glare coming from the monitor. His hand sneaks sideways towards the dish of jellybeans, and Pam looks up again, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re really having candy this early in the mborning?”

He’s about to quip back, fleetingly glad for the return to their ‘normal rhythm’, only the hazy look that crosses her face gives him pause. Nose twitching, she blinks hard against the irritation but ultimately swivels away from him again with a stuttering apology, fumbling the tissues from out of her cardigan sleeve.

“hheh’EHTSSssh’uh…. hH-huh? Hhh...hh’ehtcssh’ew!”

Poor thing.

He’s about to bless her again, only it sticks in his throat when he notices her embarrassment, clear in how she hesitates turning back to him, even after she’d dabbed herself dry. So instead he smirks, gesturing towards her with the jellybeans still in his hand - one orange, and one green.

“Gotta get my vitamin C in if we’re gonna be hanging out today” he teases, popping one into his mouth. “See, this-” he indicates towards her with his free hand “-is what happens when you prefer the red and purple colour”.

She rolls her eyes and heaves a heavy sniffle, but all the same her features settle back into a soft smile, teasing to match his own.

“There’s other, mbore effective, ways of getting vitambin C in than jelly beans”

“Like?”

She looks at him like he’s dumb. “The orange juice that’s in the fridge?”

“The one that I know for a fact Michael and Kevin both drink straight from the carton?” he asks innocently, a twinkle in his eye.

She looks briefly disgusted, quickly followed by disbelief, and he follows her eyes as they flit down towards the cup of orange juice sat by her keyboard.

“You’re such a liar!” she accuses him.

He plays up a look of faux-offence, meeting her gaze so they’re now looking each other directly in the eye, faces almost level with each other as he leans over the desk.

“When have I ever lied to you?” - and why, after saying that sentence, could he suddenly feel his heart beating in his chest?

She studies his face wordlessly for a long few seconds, eyes narrow in skepticism, and he tries to keep his expression as neutral as he can. As she’s trying to read him, however, she’s plagued with another sneeze, eyes narrowing as they fill with moisture. She turns away, bringing her arm to her face.

“hhH’EH’gxst”

Jim feels himself wince a little at how sick it sounds, and immediately feels bad. He reaches over the top of the desk and picks up the glass, holding it out for her.

“Here; drink your juice, Bees. I was kidding…”

He must still look somewhat mischievous, given how she eyes him warily. But she must decide inwardly that he wouldn’t actually give it to her if he had been serious before, because it’s only a beat before she takes the glass from him and takes a sip. Their fingers brush, like the two protagonists at the start of some cheesy romcom, but Jim can’t deny the jolt he feels from the contact and how it does nothing to calm his already elevated heart rate. Maybe he lingers just a smidge of a millisecond longer than is necessary.

Pam mustn’t notice though, as she sets the glass down again with a stuffy, and somewhat suffering, but contented sigh.

“I’b just so glad the camberas aren’t here today…”

It wouldn’t matter if they were. She’d still be, hands down, the most beautiful girl they’re likely to come across throughout the whole of their stay on the East coast.

 

[Sneesee]

This is wonderful! You captured them perfectly! I can’t wait to see how this develops!

[InLivingColor]

Wonderfully written and as someone who's on season 3 of a re watch of the series myself I thought it was wonderful! Not sure I'll be as keen when it's Jim who's sick but I'll definately be checking in with every update

[Zwee]

I'm incredibly excited for this! I'm also doing an Office re-watch (guess we all need a little safety and comfort in our lives rn) and with each season, I desperately wish for Jim/Pam sick content to encapsulate each phase of their relationship journey. So this fic is perfect and I absolutely can't wait to see where it goes.

I love Jim's internal monologue in this chapter. The camera really does seem to search him out for a reaction, so I love the idea that it's because he notices every little thing, especially where Pam's concerned. And it's very cute that she's a little embarrassed to sneeze in front of him. Your writing is spectacular and feels so right for them in Season 1--the way Pam can't help but play along with Jim despite how miserable she feels, her sad defense of Roy's shitty behavior, the tentativeness Jim feels at expressing his concern for her/distaste for Roy and the lighthearted teasing he uses to cover it... it's lovely and I'm so excited for more!

I'm curious to see if you'll switch the cold victim so it's every other season or just go with what feels right for that period in their lives, but either way I am absolutely along for the ride.

[ID2006]

I don't watch the show but I love how the characters are portrayed here. I'm assuming they eventually get together because now, thanks to this fic, I need them to get together.

[Heather]

this. is. SO GOOD!!! I recently began rewatching The Office again as well and always get warm fuzzies from Jim and Pam. Please continue!! 😊

[PennyLane]

YESSSSSS

[SuperWhoWolfImmortals]

Awww my favorite duo! I love the dynamic they have and definitely could see Jim worried over her like this. I wouldn't complain if Jim caught it from her 😉

[Nebula]

A/N: Hi everyone! Thank-you so much for the feedback, you're all lovely and so encouraging! Timeline-wise I'd place this s2 entry post-2x13/14 ('The Secret'/'The Carpet') but before 2x15 ('Boys and Girls'). Hope you enjoy!

 

 

Season 2; (January 2006)

 

Pam is bored.

Which she’s aware could seem hard to believe given all the ridiculousness the documentary crew must’ve picked up by this point. Michael sitting in his office working through a list of sales calls he needs to make and not running around doing offensive impressions or trying too hard to insert himself into his employees’ personal lives? Jim and Dwight getting on with work at their respective desks and just generally leaving each other alone? Even Stanley seems to be engrossed in whatever he’s doing on the computer, not a crossword book in sight.

Maybe it’s because the cameras aren’t here today that energy appears to be so low. It’s just a rainy Tuesday at the end of January at a struggling paper supply company in Scranton, Pennsylvania; nobody’s feeling the need to perform.

“ …Yes, I’ll take that down for you ndow and get that processed. We should be able to get that s-shhipmbent… out…”

The falter in Jim’s voice immediately calls her attention upwards, and she watches with sympathy as he stutters out a hurried, but watery “sorry,excusembe-” before slamming his palm over the mouthpiece of his phone and ducking into the crook of his elbow.

“hhH’EHSSSCH’uh”. It’s loud; they have been all day. The rough, deeply masculine sound cuts harshly through the monotonous din of the environment around them, like throwing a rock into an utterly still body of water. A couple of people turn their heads whether in sympathy or thinly veiled contempt, and Pam decides not to ruminate on why she feels a strange surge of protectiveness at the thought of the latter. After all, he couldn’t help it. He was just one of those people that when they got sick it was always pretty obvious, and anyone in the general vicinity tended to know about it.

She looks on (not staring - definitely not staring) as he hangs on a wavering breath, cherry-red nose flushed from the irritation of constant attention twitching as his expression reads as ‘unsure’. Eventually though, after a beat or two his expression crumples again and he- “huh’EGXT’shuh”, chased by a sad, resounding snuffle as he brings the phone back to his ear, blinking hard against the moisture pooling in his eyes.

“Ugh, excuse mbe, sorry about that. It’s just-” he pauses, nodding his head in agreement with a self-deprecating smile. “-that timbe of year, yeah”.

She briefly wonders how he still has the energy or the willpower to be charming even in this sort of state. It’s kind of amazing, actually. Being able to keep that up.

The client must keep talking, as it’s a few more seconds before Jim responds again, cryptically, with a huff of laughter, “Yeah, I should be so lucky…”.

They quickly return to what she assumes is the closing of a sale, and so Pam forces her (visual) attention back to her riveting, formerly abandoned game of solitaire..

The thing about the office being so quiet and the receptionist being so easily overlooked in her little corner of the room, is that it left her way too much time and ample opportunity to somewhat stew in her thoughts. Which since ‘spring’ cleaning day and the bringing of certain revelations into the light, had been all the more chaotic, kind of messy, and felt almost dangerous to broach though she couldn’t help but do so.

“I know Jim had, like, a crush on me when he first started. But that was a long time ago, so-”

“It wasn’t that long ago. It was on the booze cruise”

“Jim had a crush on me on the booze cruise, or he told you about it on the booze cruise?”.

The way Michael had reacted from there highly indicated towards the former and Pam was admittedly thrown for a loop.

The most likely explanation was that Michael misunderstood him. She knew that. She knew better than anyone that it was so easy for Michael to get the wrong end of the stick about something, then just run rampant with it. Though despite knowing this, something felt distinctly different as she packed up for the day that day, preparing to head out with Jim as she always did. She couldn’t help but steal glances at him as she went through the motions of switching her computer off, slinging her scarf around her neck, picking up her purse… even as they rode the elevator and walked out of the building. Subconsciously, something had shifted. Their friendship suddenly existed in this entirely new context with things having actually been expressed out loud, and she kept looking at him. Trying to reconcile a Jim who looked physically unchanged from how he appeared at the start of the day but existed in her mind in a totally new light.

Don’t get her wrong, she had been deliriously happy when Roy had finally, very publicly, set a date. Finally gave her some tangible level of commitment and outward expression of forward-thinking regarding ‘them’. Those feelings were real; still were very real. But in the same token, she couldn’t deny the reality of how her stomach sank a little when Jim double - no, practically tripled - down on his assertion earlier that his ‘more than friendship’ feelings for her were very much in the past.

She had tried not to feel disappointed as she’d retreated from the kitchen and slunk back to her desk that day, nor question why exactly she ultimately did feel disappointed. She’d managed to push it from the forefront of her mind and carry on with her day, but Michael’s loose-lipped confession just… dredged everything right back up. She was wary at its presence though; that avenue of thought seemed heavily guarded and scattered with warning signs of certain guilt were she to actually venture down it because it was the one where Jim dared to be an ‘option’. 

She was engaged, she didn’t need ‘options’. Options were for people who hadn’t signed their life away to their high school sweetheart at 23, the same one who’d finally seemed to commit properly after ten years together and three of those engaged to be married. People who were strong, assertive, brave and confident in a way that she never saw herself as being but that she’d always attributed to him. Once Jim had seen that as he’d gotten to know her, it made sense that whatever feelings he had for her would wane.

Roy was her lot in life, and she could be content with that. Or at least learn to be. She had been, before… before the last couple of years. He may not be everything she’d ever wanted in a husband when she’d dreamed silly daydreams as a little girl. They may not laugh together, or communicate through shared, knowing looks over cups of coffee, or feel like they could read other’s minds they were so in-sync… but this was the real world. He had stuck by her for all these years, helped provide for her, accepted her flaws and loved her regardless. They’d watched each other grow up, and she felt loyalty towards him for that. He may not be perfect, may not even be perfect for her, but he was solid. Familiar and safe, and that would be enough.

All she needed to do was teach herself to ignore the spark of life in her chest that she felt when Jim caught her eye from across the room. When he finished one of her sentences, or picked her brain about anything from her art, to movies, to literature, genuinely interested in what she had to say. The way he made her feel truly seen and heard in a way a tiny, denied voice in the back of her head was beginning to doubt Roy ever had. She also needed to cast aside how she’d always been abstractly aware that he was an attractive guy, but recently couldn’t seem to shake the realisation that she was… to some degree… physically attracted to him (which wasn’t a crime, she had to remind herself. Roy talked about finding other women hot all the time, why couldn’t she acknowledge similar feelings?).

Best friends generally had chemistry. Best friends had in-depth, interesting conversations with each other. Best friends knew an abundance of seemingly useless information about each other that makes you feel truly known.

So she made the conscious decision to disregard what Michael said, cast it off as a misunderstanding, and leave it alone. She certainly trusted Jim’s word more than his, anyway, and he said he was over it. That was that.

So today, she didn’t feel she was doing anything wrong, and reasoned that it was natural to feel sorry for and want to take care of your best friend when it’s their turn being struck down by a clearly awful cold that was making its way around the office. Nearly everyone had had it by this stage, if the starkly depleted bowl of throat candies Pam had put out specially on her desk was anything to go by.

Pam notices that Jim’s off the phone at this point, turned away from Dwight’s disapproving glare as he attempts to blow his nose, and opens her IM.

 

Receptionitis15: Little bit late, but bless you, by the way.

 

He eventually turns back around and eyes the screen with a teary glare.

 

JIM9334: Like I said earlier you really don’t have to say it every time. Feel like it’s going to get tedious if it isn’t already.

JIM9334: But also thank-you.

Receptionitis15: Lucky for you there is absolutely nothing else going on here so I’ve made it my personal mission to see to it that you are thoroughly blessed.

 

He snorts with laughter, though if she were watching a bit closer she would’ve noticed the slightest of flushes rise to his cheeks.

 

JIM9334: Then I suppose I’m glad I can provide some morbid sense of entertainment, weirdo.

 

She looks up from the screen to shoot him a mock-glare and he meets her eye, briefly smirking before glancing at the clock, then turning back to his computer with a rumbling, sore-sounding cough directed into his fist. It was nice to see him smile, he barely had done all day, even if the moment of reprieve was quickly interrupted by his cold. His expression falls into one of clear irritation, though he fights through it valiantly as his fingers clatter across the keyboard.

 

JIM9334: Lunch?

 

In the split second he hits send, he swivels away and snatches a tissue from the half-empty box sitting in the corner of his desk, and brings his hands hurriedly to his face. “hhuH’EHTSHOO-”

Pam hesitates, an idea, or maybe an instinct, coming to mind.

 

Receptionitis15: You go ahead, I’ll be there in a sec.

 

He looks across at her in exaggerated disbelief, and she shrugs.

 

Receptionitis15: Solitaire is no joke, Jim. You know that.

 

Jim concedes and pushes himself out of his chair, Pam’s eyes lingering on him again as he leaves, following as he appears to duck into his elbow with another tightly stifled sneeze, before going to the sink in the kitchen and washing his hands like the considerate person he is. She looks away then, safe in the innate knowledge that he’ll go to the fridge, pull out both their lunches, and save her a seat at an empty table in the break room. Like always. Affection curls in her chest like vine at the thought, though it wasn’t a totally unwelcome constriction.

They’re friends. They’ll always be friends.

For someone as awesome as Jim, she felt lucky to have even that much.

 

*****************************************************************

 

When Jim comes back from lunch alone, Pam having excused herself to quickly go to the bathroom and hopefully get back before Dwight started threatening to dock minutes off of personal time off, the sight of his desk gives him pause.

He’d felt kind of miserable all day. Stuffy and itchy and leaky and just… not at all put together in a way that made him feel sluggish. And loud/noticeable enough about it all to attract unwanted attention. He probably should have just taken a sick day, he used them sparingly enough that it really wouldn’t have been an issue. He didn’t want to admit to himself outright that he dragged himself in against his better judgement for any specific reason, but comes dangerously close to reckoning with a certain suspicion when he looks down at his desk.

Placed in a little pile next to his keyboard are seemingly all the remaining honey and lemon lozenges cherry-picked from the bowl at reception; his go-to flavour of choice. Also, stuck to his computer screen is a post-it note reading “Hope you feel bee-tter!” with a cute little doodle of a bee flying across the paper. He ducks his head and presses his lips together, smiling a little private smile to nobody but himself, feeling lifted. Cared about. Warm.

He’s stopped trying to prevent himself indulging in these moments since she and Roy set the date. If this thing has a time limit, he’s decided he’s going to milk every last bit of it while it lasts, even if time edging ever-closer to their wedding date felt like a personal death march.

He sits down and tugs the sticky note off his monitor, placing it in his drawer alongside other assorted trinkets he’s accumulated over the years; yogurt lid medals with paperclip strings and cartoon sketches making suitable companions.

Edited October 11, 2020 by Nebula

[Nas]

Both of these are so well-written and I absolutely love your writing style. I love that you can see what drives them both, and the pacing of these vignettes is amazing. It's so in character for both of them, and I just love how you captured their dynamic and their internal conflicts. (also damn, love your spellings.  ) Thank you for sharing~! 

[ID2006]

I love it and I just want more... Lots lots more, lol

[Zwee]

Oh, man, I was so excited to see you updated! This is so lovely. You understand and express their internal monologues so well—Pam’s rationalizing of her feelings for Jim and her heart wrenching thoughts about why she’s destined to be with Roy. I love the setting of this one too, right after all the crush drama, so Pam is thought-spiraling and reading into everything and trying to stop herself from reading into everything. It’s painful in the best possible way. The whole idea of a quiet, sleepy day the office that makes it easy for Pam to dwell on her thoughts and makes it all the more obvious Jim isn't feeling well is perfect. Plus there’s something about Jim interrupting his phone call to sneeze and then laughing apologetically about it with a customer that’s pushing all my buttons. And him trying to finish typing, while Pam can tell he needs to sneeze. And that Pam notices he has barely smiled all day. I just love everything about this.

I’m so excited for the next installment, season 3 is so rife with tension! I’m ready to have my heart shattered by chapter 3!

Edited October 18, 2020 by Zwee

[Nebula]

 

 

A/N: Hey! I originally planned to do only one S3 chapter (as per the last two chapters/seasons), but I realised that there are so many interesting emotional peaks and valleys in the Jim/Pam story going on in S3, and so I wanted to do one post-CN in the Stamford!Jim era (sort of - it's the s2/3 interim lol), or the beginning of it. Then part B will be post-merger. This one's set directly after the events of Casino Night so it's a bit of a deep cut and I got a little carried away length-wise (when I totally planned for this to be a little short 'amuse-bouche' of a chapter) but here we are! There isn't a huge pile of snz but if you're also here for the Emotions you should still be good. Hope you enjoy! Your feedback and encouragement is always valued and very much appreciated.

( Also big massive shout out to Zwee who's been a blast to talk to/bounce ideas off for the last couple of days! ♥ )

 

Season 3(A) - (May/June 2006)

“You’re really gonna marry him?”

He’d said it more in resignation than actual disbelief or hope, the final word of a drowning man before he accepted his fate. As soon as the words left his lips he already knew what her response was going to be, fear and apology briefly flashing in her eyes in equal measure. In that moment he wished he wasn’t capable of reading her the way he could. The look on her face made his heart sink into his stomach, the stoic, rigid blankness that had settled there curdling in his stomach like sour milk and making him feel sick. She never looked at him like that, never so closed devoid of emotion or expression or warmth.

Jim disregards how her hands, soft and welcoming and begging to be held just a little longer, linger in the palm of his own where they so perfectly fit as he begins to pull away. He’s dealt all the cards he had to play, and at some point he had to turn a corner and stop indulging himself in this fantasy that if he just tries a little harder, tries something else to break her out of whatever spell she’s under that’s keeping her with someone that’s so clearly not right for her then she’d tell him she loved him back. Eventually he had to prioritise his own sanity and sense of self and call it a day, then take the steps necessary to begin the arduous, abstract task of ‘moving on’.

He’d come close, when he’d smacked a finger down on a globe one day and spontaneously booked that trip to Australia that would’ve fell over the day her wedding was set. He’d been proud of himself that day, even if it could be argued to be equivalent to running away with his tail between his legs. At least it was some sort of alternative to masochistically forcing himself to sit through the wedding in order to ‘support her’, or ‘be a good friend’, as awful and pathetic as it felt to not be able to. The image of her, dressed all in white and smiling angelically as she and Roy went round the venue arm-in-arm greeting their guests, welcoming him to their special day… no. It was one that came to him often, but that particular day it was too compelling just to sit on and repress like it was some far-away notion that wasn’t actually going to happen, like he usually did.

Getting caught by her red-handed during Michael’s day of supposed ‘conflict resolution’ was the final straw though. When he was backed into a corner and had to admit that it was him who’d accidentally filed the complaint about Pam planning her wedding in the office (where he couldn’t help but constantly overhear) Jim had been absolutely mortified. As he drove the familiar route home from work that night in stony, solitary silence, he found himself taking a long, hard look at himself.

He realised then that this whole situation was beyond ‘taking a brief trip abroad ‘til the wedding was over and done with, then carrying on as normal when he got back’. All these feelings of jealousy and frustration (a little bit with her but overwhelming with himself and at the world) that he worked so hard to repress because at the end of the day she was his best friend, and he wanted her to be happy... they just weren’t him. Or maybe they were, and just existed in the very worst, ugliest part of his psyche that’s hidden away in a box somewhere. 

He isn’t that guy. Never wants to be that guy. The very last thing he ever wants to do is end up resenting her, or worse even outwardly hurting/upsetting her like he had today because of his own stupid hurt feelings. Which is what that gripe he’d had to Toby in a moment of weakness was, in hindsight, heavily indicating towards happening and it frightened Jim to the core. Yes, he loved her, but at the end of the day that was on him and she didn’t owe him anything, no matter how much his gut told him she felt something for him too. That yeah, friends could be super close, but not like this.

It was then, as he was pulling into his driveway and killing the engine, that he realised he didn’t like what he was turning into. That it wasn’t good for anybody - him, or… well… anybody.

The very next morning he put in the call to Jan about possible job openings at other branches, his heart racing as he kept watch on the kitchen door, ready to skillfully bring the call to a close if she were to come back out before he was done.

Maybe they could salvage some sort of friendship if he wasn’t around every day to watch her being his wife. It was an interesting thought, but one that eventually faded away in the lights and conviviality of Casino Night, and sitting across from her at that poker table. 

The way she looked so goddamn beautiful in that silken blue dress, how she’d beamed at him whilst they played their little cat and mouse game of bluffing, the loaded nature of their conversation as she played him for what would turn out to be his last hand; and all with the oncoming transfer to Stamford secretly looming over his head like a guillotine. He needed to say something. He was leaving soon and she needed to know some degree of how he felt, if only to contextualise his departure. He just didn’t know until the moment it spilled out of his mouth that it was going to be exactly that. And that once the initial confession was unleashed it ignited a fire that burned and told him that it was the moment to fight.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

“About when you want to give me more of your money?”

“No, I-”

“Did you want to do that now? We can go inside. I’m feelin’ kinda good tonight”.

“I was just… um…”

A pause.

“...I’m in love with you”.

Now, back in the present though, the air around them in the empty bullpen is heavy with tension and a weird sort of relief that every was laid out and fully aired in the open. He’s in love with her and she at the very least has feelings for him too. He handed 'misinterpreted their friendship', wasn't crazy, wasn't alone in this. Years of desire and yearning were silently communicated back and forth in their kiss, and he even afterwards he could still feel the burning sear of her hands on the back of his neck, his chest, and the palms of his hands (he doesn’t know it yet, but he’ll feel it for days after).

But at the end of the day she said no. The prospect of what they had wasn’t enough. At least he had the freedom of knowing that for sure now, having been shot down not once but twice, no matter how much it the knowledge ached in his chest like someone had just gone and stuck a knife in there.

Would it have been better or worse if she genuinely hadn't reciprocated his feelings at all? Leaving no room for 'could have been's or 'maybe if's.

This didn’t feel like freedom.

His lips still tingled as he accepted her answer, then turned on his heel and left, leaving her standing there still as a statue, beside the desk that would no longer be his.

 

Jim’s head felt light as he headed for the stairs and exited the building, almost in some sort of daze, like his feet were on autopilot and his head in another realm entirely. The buzz of noise and merriment emanating from the direction of the warehouse pierced the edge of his consciousness but the event might as well have been a million miles away.

Unshed tears burn at the back of his throat that prove like sandpaper to swallow against.

The next few days he couldn’t shake this ever-present, bone-weary tiredness. Which probably wasn’t helped by the fact that he already hadn’t slept properly in weeks, his head hitting his pillow every night seemingly the go-ahead signal to anxiously overthink again and again, every emotion he’d managed to push down suddenly taking its chance to break free and rise to the surface. Sometimes he felt like he was sleepwalking in the middle of the day.

Tuesday was supposed to have been his last day at Dunder Mifflin Scranton, followed by one more day to pack up the last of his things on Wednesday, drive up to Connecticut on Thursday, unpack and get settled over the weekend, then start afresh as the official Assistant Manager of the Stamford branch on the following Monday.

The plan sounded so simple laid out in the list in his head, the timeline organised dutifully and down to the minute, but the actual act of dragging himself through the days and everything that needed done in preparation for the move proved to be a lot more difficult. Like there were weights tied to his limbs.

He called in sick both Monday and Tuesday, dialling Toby’s extension directly rather than the main reception line.

Mark shot him anxious looks when they met around the house, asked him how he was doing on a couple of occasions and offered to talk about whatever was eating at him. “You’re… not lookin’ too good, man. What’s up?”.  But like always, Jim really didn’t want to talk about it.

 

His parents had asked him round to their place on Wednesday night for a big ‘goodbye’ dinner, what with the Halpert family’s (read: his mom’s) love of festivities and big celebratory gatherings in general. Jim had gotten a new job, after all. A promotion, actually. He was moving to a cool, interesting new city, moving into a fancy new apartment on his own sans roommate for the first time in his life. Moving on up in life.

From the minute he walked through the door and his mom clamped eyes on him, Jim couldn’t help but feel her eyes constantly on him throughout the rest of the evening. Studying him, but shining with concern the few times he’d accidentally caught her gaze over the dinner table. In a quiet moment while he was helping wash up, Betsy came up behind him and touched the small of his back. The sensation made him jump a little, and she rubbed the spot with a sad smile.

“Dad and the guys are out tossing a ball around with Vanessa and Dylan. Leave all that, I can handle it” she said cautiously, pointing to the dishes in the sink.

Jim shrugged, suddenly aware of how heavy his expression is and he instantly trying to lighten up. He cleared his throat before responding; he’d been doing that a lot that night. Probably down to the fact that being here with his family is the most he’s talked aloud to anybody in nearly a week. “I’m good, don’t worry about it. Why should you have to do all clean-up, right?”.

Betsy nodded, the smile slipping as she moved away from Jim and leaned her back against the counter, so she could look him in the face.

“Now be honest with me, Jimmy…” she broaches seriously, voice dripping in that 'meaningful mom' tone “Is everything okay? Are you okay”.

Jim blinked in surprise.

“Yeah, of course. Don’t I look it?” he responded, trying to make a lame attempt at a joke and causing Betsy’s eyebrows to furrow deeper. Seeing her youngest boy grow up with two older brothers who were admittedly a little rough around the edges compared to his more sensitive nature, she was well acquainted at this point with Jim’s tendency to play off his feelings and mask them with jokes and deflections.

“What you don’t look like is someone who’s got everything going for them right now, which you do as far as we know” she said tenderly, silently imploring him to open up to her.

Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and Betsy can see his momentary deliberation, before painfully swallowing back the lump in his throat.

“I just… it’s a lot of change, y’know? I’m kind of nervous, I guess. New place, new job, new people. I won’t have you guys, the family, or my friends…” he trails off, realising he’s rambling and that his half-truthful response probably sounds quite childish.

Betsy considered him for a second. “That’s true, it’ll be hard. But on the other hand, you’ll meet new people in no time, and we’ll always be here for you to come back and visit-” she hesitated, noticing Jim’s head dip and a flicker of sadness cross his face.

It hadn’t been exactly what he needed to hear. She didn’t know what exactly he did, or why he needed it, but she was his mom and he was hurting so blatantly it bled into herself a little, so she couldn’t not try.

“Look, you have mine and dad’s numbers as well as the landline. You call us any time that you want, we’ll be here. I don’t want you sitting up there in Stamford in that apartment by yourself feeling upset or alone” Her voice was sure but wavered towards the end at the mental image of what she’d described. Jim bit down hard on the inside of his bottom lip and nodded, forcing a small smile for her. 

Betsy got up on her tiptoes and gathered him up into a hug. He relaxed into her with a long, welcome, relieving exhale and it’s the most peace he’s felt in days. Like a balm for the heartache.

“If you really really don’t want to go, it’s never too late to stay...” she said cautiously, a hand drawing smooth strokes up and down his back. “But for what it’s worth I think this could be an amazing opportunity for you”.

“Yeah, I think so too…”

They remained still in a companionable, but heavy silence for a few beats before Jim untangled himself from the embrace and leaned away, cupping his hands over his face. The itch in his throat was crawling up towards his sinuses and making his eyes water, and...

“hhh’H’EHTSSCH’uh-”.

It wrenched out of him painfully and Betsy blessed him as he swivelled back towards the sink with a quick apology to wash his hands, sniffling thickly in the aftermath. She reached for a couple of tissues from the box on the counter and handed them over once he was done, clicking her tongue in sympathy.

“You sound like you’re getting a cold, too”

Jim narrowed his eyes in doubt. “I don’t know? I don’t think so. It is getting to be allergy season and all…” he replied, dread sinking in at the possibility of him being sick whilst moving states and starting a new job on Monday.

“No, no -  I can tell the difference…” Betsy reached up to quickly feel his cheeks with the backs of her fingers. “...you were all snuffly and hoarse at dinner, and- yeah, just trust me” she finished, before stepping away towards the door. “There’s some Dayquil in the upstairs bathroom, lemme just go grab it for you, you can take it with you-”.

 

Despite his denial apparently mothers do, in fact, know best because not even 24 hours later he’s sitting in his car, on the highway, wrapped up in two layers, a hoodie and a scarf in what was a seasonably warm May mid-morning. Full of what was probably some sort of nasty, stress and exhaustion-induced cold and sneezing his head off. If it wasn’t such an easy road to drive on he’d have been a little scared for his life.

How many people hit up gas station rest stops on the side of the road for tissues and throat lozenges rather than Doritos and beef jerky? Apparently not many because the best he could get was a pile of fast food napkins from the 7-Eleven nacho cheese stand.

Which just… put a nice, appropriately shitty lid on an equally shitty week. 

By the time he got to Jim new apartment he just barely had the energy to haphazardly throw his boxes into a rough pile in the living room, briefly call his mom to let her know he’d got there okay, then drag out a blanket and a pillow from the bottom of one of the boxes and collapse on the couch.

His new living room was dark and bleakly sparse when he woke up again, the moon outside his window casting the room in an eerie glow. The walls were bare and bore no indication of anyone having lived here, no assortment of clutter items sitting around that served to differentiate a house from a home. Usually it was comforting to wake up on the couch after falling asleep there, but this just felt empty.

As if determined to pull him fully out of unconsciousness itself and remind him of just how gross he felt, the ever-present tickling that had been driving him crazy all day flared dangerously, but slowly as it teased him for a few seconds. He was home alone, but by habit brought the cuff of his hoodie to his face, muffling a damp, heavily cold-laden sneeze.

"huhH'HUESSH'ue"

He noticed the screen of his phone was illuminated where it sat on the coffee table, blinking with a flurry of new messages that he can already imagine expressing the usual “how was the trip up?”, “how’re you settling in?” type of pleasantries that he did appreciate but didn’t quite have the capacity for in that moment. He'd allocated himself that whole weekend for the last of his self-indulgent wallowing time before he making himself get his life together for work on Monday. 

Jim paused for a second before he reached for it to check though, his heart leaping into an uneven rhythm as the sudden,  reflexively unbidden thought of Pam having possibly been one of them crossed his mind. His mind swam from the gravity shifting the now tightly-packed congestion in his head.

Surely she must know by now, right? Someone must’ve told her, given Michael can't keep a secret to save his life.

He flipped it open and scanned his inbox.

None of the messages were from her. It’s… it’s probably for the best, right? Pathetic to even… yeah. Stupid, in fact. 

In a spontaneous moment of decisiveness that surprises even himself, Jim steels himself and deletes her number from his phone in one fell 'click'.

He deflates the moment it’s done, and sinks back with a miserable sniff, chucking his phone back off to the other side of the couch without replying to anyone.

Day one of ‘Project Jim 2.0’ - still a work in progress.

**************************************************************

Her bedroom was bathed in moonlight and shrouded in the sound of light summer rainfall pitter-pattering against the bedroom window. She adjusted the covers tightly around her shoulders, cocooning herself safely in the fabric. She was trying to sleep, though her body somehow knew it was too early for that yet, regardless of how fatigued she was.

Breathe in, breathe out. You’ll get there eventually.

The migraine burned behind her eyes and her head felt like it was caught in a vice. Though painful it was almost welcome if it gave her the chance to hide away from the world in bed for even just a little bit.

She heard heavy, lumbering footsteps approach the bedroom door that disrupted the stillness, but they stopped just before entering the room, lingering. After a couple of beats they continued course though, and she felt the bed dip beside her. A hand reached out and held her hip.

“Hey Pammy, you awake?” Roy asked cautiously, half under his breath.

She mumbled an affirmative sound and forced her eyes open. He looked hedgy, though his hand was rubbing her in such a way she identified would usually be comforting. But today it wasn’t.

“I know you’re not feelin’ too good, but since you’re just, like, nappin’ and having some time to yourself, would you mind if I go meet Darryl and the guys? Everyone’s at Poor Richards and they’re showing the game, y’know”

Oh. That’s why he seems nervous.

She wordlessly shook her head as much as she could without causing it to feel like it was going to split open. An uncomfortable thought crossed her mind that she would actually in some guilty way be glad to see him go. She didn’t have the energy to be upset at his indifference, and anyway her mind was very decidedly elsewhere. Had been for days now.

Roy smiled obliviously and squeezed her thigh over the top of the blankets, before getting up to quickly change his shirt before heading out.

“Just call me if you need anything, right babe?”

She bit her lip and mustered out a weak “Sure, have fun”.

She turned back into her pillow as she heard the front door slam closed, making her wince. She always hated when he did that; he never could just close a door gently or even with appropriate strength, always ended up ham-fistedly slamming the thing.

Maybe she was getting sick sick; her migraines sometimes acted as a pre-cursor for actual illness. That’d be appropriate; karma even, for doing wrong by pretty much everyone in her life.

She can still feel the heaviness of Roy’s hand on the side of her body, only now it feels unwelcome. Restrictive.

Jim would’ve lay down with her.

Stop.

Jim would’ve stayed, and laid down, and probably would’ve known to gently scratch the back of her head with his fingertips the way she loved when she got like this. Even though there’s no logical way he could’ve known that.

A sick feeling of undeserving curled round her stomach like a vine.

Emotion rising in her chest, Pam leaned up and grabbed her phone off the bedside table. She didn’t open a new message or anything bold or daring like that. She brought up his contact and just… looked for a second. Remembered a time when he didn't feel a million miles away. Maybe he's gone so far as to block her number. Or just get a new number altogether. 

After a few seconds though, as if catching herself with her hand in the cookie jar, she exited out quickly and flipped the phone shut again with a resounding, definitive slap.

Edited October 24, 2020 by Nebula

[jensdw]

absolutely looove this! so well written! sick jim is so adorable. and the emotion between both jim and pam broke my heart (in a good way). 

excited for part B! :)

[ID2006]

Very well written, but so looking forward to some more caretaking fluff.

[Zwee]

How did I miss this?? It's beautiful, and, as expected, heart-wrenching. I love that you started it with the tail end of that kiss scene. He's so clearly still in love with her and it's honestly just as painful to read this as it is to watch this moment unfold in the show. Giving voice to the thought that if he just held out a little longer, maybe she would change her mind, and the ensuing thought that he can't keep up that mindset forever... it's just... perfection. I've watched the show all the way through a number of times that's embarrassing, and this fic has made me question whether or not we actually find out when Jim decides to leave, because it makes so much sense it's after he's forced to confess to her that he was the one to complain about her to Toby. And that Jim is so deep in this pit of heartache and misery that, even if he weren't getting sick, it's blatantly obvious to the people that care about him that he's not doing well. Betsy Halpert shines in this chapter, what a mom. Also the image of Jim bundled up in a scarf and layers, shivering in traffic and sneezing his head off is probably not going to leave my head for the forseeable future.

Also, the end bit, where maybe the emotional turmoil in Pam has manifested into a migraine, and maybe it's the start of the cold he probably passed to her when the kissed a few days before... Just brilliant. If I use too many italics, it's because this fic warrants it. Promise. Can't wait for Part B!!

[Nebula]

A/N: Hey! I haven't got a whole load to say about this chapter, but timeline-wise it’s set post-merger, in the interim between ‘The Return’ (3x13) and ‘Ben Franklin’ (3x14). This series is turning into a real labour of love (nearly 12,000 words so far eep) but I’m actually quite proud of myself that I’ve stuck to updating it and I’ve committed myself to finishing it. I’m having a lot of fun writing this! I would also just like to say a huge thank-you if you've left a comment or any feedback/support, it's been so so encouraging and you're all beyond lovely. I really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy ♥

 

 

Season 3(B) - January 2007

“Conference room, five seconds! Let’s go!”

Michael’s voice, usually loud but especially so when he was trying to ‘rouse’ them into something, chiselled into Pam’s brain like a jackhammer and she couldn’t help but wince. He’d even done her the honour of choosing to walk right to the edge of her desk before making the announcement, so it was like he’d yelled it directly into her ear.

She answered with a heavy sigh and snatched a couple of tissues from the box on her desk, folding them up and tucking them up her sleeve in preparation before following the others. She pulled her cardigan closer to her body, having felt uncomfortably chilled ever since taking her coat off at the start of the day. The days here could be grating, or even tedious, at the best of times. But she could just tell today was going to be a particularly long one, if how exhausted she already felt was any indication. 

And it was only 9:30am. 

Everyone in her art class seemed to be sick at the moment, but nobody wanted to sacrifice valuable class time with their first exhibition coming up next month, so it was easily making its way around everybody. It was just that time of year, she supposed; winter still in full swing and everyone just coming off the high of Christmas.

What had started as a nagging tickle at the back of her throat all day yesterday that no amount of tea could manage to quash, had gradually over the course of the evening blossomed into what was undoubtedly the beginning of a cold, no matter how much she wanted to deny it to herself (proving to be swiftly impossible when she’d sneezed no less than eight times just getting ready that morning).  She’d honestly tried so hard to avoid it, knowing she’d inevitably get the blame for bringing it to the office and all the unwanted attention that it would bring onto her. But at the end of the day it wasn’t her fault, so what could she do?

Pam gravitated towards a chair at the end of a row that didn’t have anyone already sat in it and gingerly produced one of her hidden tissues, her nose already proving problematic and starting to drip. When she looked back up from her lap she tried not to double take when she realised that oh - Jim and Karen were sat directly opposite her. Karen’s arm was looped loosely around Jim’s and she was holding his bicep. Pam’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight.

A lot has changed at Scranton since the merger with Stamford.

Whether it be Michael having five new pieces of fresh meat (at the start, that is; that number having rapidly dwindled week by week due to Michael’s interesting management style) to ‘interact’ with, or just new personalities to contend with (Andy Bernard, mostly).

Of course Jim was back too. With a new girlfriend in tow, who had clearly liked him enough that she’d taken a job in Scranton when she could’ve easily gone the much easier, arguably more exciting route to New York after the Stamford branch was shut down.

Sure, it had been a bit of a shock to Pam’s system when she found out before he had the chance to tell her himself (which she had a sinking, sneaking suspicion the cameras had caught before she had the chance to school her expression into one a little more neutral). 

Besides the obvious reasons why her stomach may have sunk at the realisation, what hit her harder than expected was the realisation that she truly didn’t know what was going on in Jim’s life anymore, and hadn’t for the last few months. He’d had girlfriends before, like Katy last year, and Pam could admit to herself now that she’d wanted him back then as well. She’d felt jealous, even if the jealousy had been repressed and taboo in a way that made it hard to identify or even acknowledge. But at least back then she’d at least been his friend and been privy to that information as things were developing. He’d talk to her about things (but obviously not everything) and they were close. They were active parts of each other’s lives regardless and that helped soften the blow.

Now she just felt like an outsider peering through a window into Jim’s cool, ‘evolved’ new life and it felt wrong and uncomfortable.

But as she’d determinedly reasserted to Jim after he did get around to broaching the subject of Karen with her, they were friends. They’d always be friends. She still cared about him a lot, she always would, and she believed she owed it to him to respect his decisions and support him moving forward.

Generally, Pam and Karen got along. Maybe at the start Pam felt a little bit awkward around her, and intentionally avoided situations where they’d be left alone together with the possibility of a one-on-one conversation. Her mind couldn’t help but wonder.

How much had Jim told her about them and what had happened last year? Had he told her anything at all? Or, perhaps most embarrassingly, did he even think there was anything to tell? Pam just… didn’t know where she stood. Then Christmas had rolled around and regardless of her own feelings towards her, it pained Pam to see Karen so brutally shut down by Angela in that Party Planning Committee meeting. Especially when she’d done nothing wrong, was genuinely trying to get involved, and actually had some pretty fun new ideas for the party. 

The brief hurt that had flashed in Karen’s eye before morphing into indignance when she  was kicked out of the meeting spurred something in Pam. Some primal empathy probably resulting from all the barbed remarks she’d borne the brunt of from Angela herself and just the general feeling of being excluded or unheard. It churned in her stomach and made her confront her own coldness towards Karen up to then, and how undeserving and unfair it was.

And so, as epically short-lived as it was, the ‘Committee to Plan Parties’ was born and Pam actually ended up having a ball. In both getting to know Karen more and striking up what felt like it could be a real friendship, and in terms of setting out to accomplish something and it turning out amazing. 

In between all the giggling and party-planning and set-up it had struck Pam, in both a sort of sad but mostly admiring kind of way, that Karen was someone Pam wished she was more like. So assertive, and so sure of herself. Ripping Angela’s poster down in retaliation, the way she’d masterfully bargained down the price of the rental on that industrial drinks dispenser, “No; I don’t think we’re going far enough”. Honestly, that kind of energy was exhilarating to be around and Pam felt like she was getting it via osmosis just standing next to her all day. It felt good. She found herself standing a little straighter in the days that followed, walking with a little more purpose.

Of course Karen was physically gorgeous, and clearly clever and good at her job, that was obvious from the get-go. But that evening after the party was over, driving back to ‘fancy new apartment’ (the first place she’d ever had completely on her own) Pam really, truly got what Jim saw in her.

After that, Pam and Karen had actually been pretty good friends. If their breaks lined up they’d chat over coffee, sometimes Pam joined her at lunch and they’d chat easily. It was only really easy when Jim wasn’t there though, when Pam could briefly pretend he wasn’t part of this messed up equation and that she didn’t still yearn for the closeness they’d once had.

She’d found that out the day she “talked some sense into Halpert” when they were having that drama with Jim feeling weird about Karen potentially living two block away from him. Sobbing in the hallway at work and being caught doing so by Dwight (thank God it hadn’t been Jim) certainly wasn’t Pam’s finest moment, and it was the type of activity she usually saved for when she was alone in the comforting darkness of her bedroom, and probably over half a bottle of wine deep and feeling particularly sorry for herself. But for some reason being thanked so sincerely by Karen for helping them over a bump in their relationship just touched a nerve Pam wasn’t fully aware was still so raw.

It felt strange and masochistic to get so involved in their relationship when her feelings for Jim were still so fresh and jagged at the edges, but she couldn’t not. She was their friend now as well as just his, and she’d vowed to herself to support him, like a friend would. Her efforts seemed to be paying off as well and the feeling seemed to be mutual, as little by little Jim appeared to be opening back up to her again. He’d started playfully teasing her again, and cluing her in on his pranks (like that one at Oscar’s welcome back party last week. So messed up how it turned out, but still. It just felt amazing to be goofing off with him again), instinctively turning to her in moments of shared “what just happened?” sentiments.

At lunch the other day he’d even called her “Beesly” again for the first time since getting back, in that silly, affectionate way that always made her feel a little bit special. She hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off her face for the rest of the day.

So... yeah, they were all on good terms. Pam was finding her feet within the whole dynamic. Which is why she was so confused at this sudden, seemingly overnight, shift in Karen’s mood whereby she seemed… not distant towards her, not even unpleasant, but definitely more guarded. She’d also suddenly started getting a lot more openly affectionate and touchy-feely with Jim in the office when she’d never really seemed like the type that went for that before. Karen would drape herself around his shoulders, nuzzle his neck, sometimes peck him on the cheek; fairly innocent stuff, really, but still odd for her. Always in the bullpen, always seemingly at Jim’s desk, right by reception.

It didn’t bother Pam, of course not. Because she had no right to be bothered. It was just… confusing, is all. Like holding his arm during an early morning ‘Michael meeting’. They just didn’t do that. 

If Pam didn’t know Jim as well as she did she also might not have caught the slight distance between him and herself in the past couple of days specifically. That, combined with all the PDA, would seem to indicate that things were probably on the up and up with him and Karen lately and that maybe they were happier than ever. She even could’ve fully believed it, if not for the dark circles she couldn’t help but notice under his eyes each morning three days running now, and the smiles he wore in the brief moments that they did speak that never quite reached his eyes. For all intents and purposes, Jim and Karen seemed rock solid. But these little… Jim-isms niggled at her.

Maybe she should take a day off from worrying quite so much about all of this. Especially when she was sick and had a limited supply of energy to get her through the day as is. It was never far from her mind though, try as she might to ignore it. How could it not be, with them both in her direct line of sight all day long?

With everything that had happened between Pam and Jim it was almost impossible not to give into the nagging, pathetic urge to compare herself to Karen, no matter how destined she was to lose and come away feeling worse about herself every time. It was like incessantly poking a bruise just to make sure it still hurt. Today it was worse though, which meant she was only going to do it more. 

Because today she had a gross head cold, she’d slept through her alarm and so didn’t get time to fully dry her hair and it was frizzing particularly impressively, had laddered her tights getting out of her car, and just… generally felt frumpy and leaky and swollen and ugh.

She wasn’t competing, not for Jim. Obviously. But it struck her that if she was she’d be losing hands-down and that was unfamiliar territory. One that made her feel small, unworthy and inadequate. Because comparatively Karen was flawlessly beautiful, in a way that seemed effortlessly natural and was always put together. All that stuff was periphery though, because beyond the physical she was direct, honest to a fault, and just had something to say. If she wanted something she went for it.

It was a thought that had actually occurred to her a lot over the past couple of years, that Jim deserved someone who was like that.

The meeting was in full swing now, and Pam was alternating between looking tiredly down at her lap and periodically glancing up at whatever the hell Michael was doing to get them all ‘energised’ for the day ahead. Was he… miming having a seizure? Trying to break dance? It was kind of hard to concentrate when her nose was running like a faucet, and she was all too aware of how telling the damp sniffles that followed were as she tried to tend to it. All she knew for sure, was she could practically see the twinkle in Michael’s eye that told her he was looking for someone to pick on, and that she needed to concentrate on getting through this without sneezing and catching his attention. It’d be practically volunteering herself.

But it was like that thought alone tauntingly conjured the urge. She clenched her jaw and caught her bottom lip between her teeth, nose twitching dangerously.

Don’t sneeze, don’t sneeze, don’t sneeze… just a couple more minutes, think decidedly non-sneezy thoughts (whatever they were), anything at all-

“hhH? heh’TISSSH’uh! hehh… hH’KIHSSH’uh!”

Michael spun around and pointed her out excitedly, his sights clearly now locked onto her.

“Pam Greer!” he exclaimed with a chortle “You look particularly like you need to be energised this morning. Get on up here-”

Pam froze for a second, feeling a flush of warmth in her cheeks as everyone turned their attention towards her. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat and immediately lowered the tissue, now limp and rather spent, from where it had been mopping.

“N-Ndo, Michael… I-” she tried to argue, though her voice came out weaker than even she would have liked.

“Pam, I insist, you clearly need this more than anybody else right now - coooome on!”

This is where she’d normally give in and play along just to appease him, mainly in the hope that it would hurry things along to a point where they could get back to whatever it was they should be doing. A lot of the time she felt like it just wasn’t worth the fight. When it came to dealing with Michael’s, well, general personality the others seemed to know that Pam could be counted upon to just suck it up and take one for the team.

But right now she really didn’t want to get up and she really wasn’t in the mood for whatever silly performance she was being dragged into against her will in front of, well… the others. She sat up a little straighter in her chair.

“I’mb serious, I dod’t feel great, please just pick sobebody else-” She wasn’t sure whether her voice had gotten louder, or if the room just got quieter as everyone observed the exchange with a lot more interest.

But like a dog with a bone, or a child being denied candy in the line at the supermarket, Michael just dug his heels in harder.

“I am your boss and I will not take no for an answer! In fact you’ll thank me after-”

For a brief second Pam faltered, and having caught the fall in her expression Jim looked like he was about to interject from across the room. Though he doesn’t quite get the chance before the gear shifts and Pam’s the one cutting Michael off.

“Ndo” she said, with a suddenly quiet but unmissable seriousness, despite the miserable congestion weighing down her tone. She looked him in the eye as she’d said it too, and whatever Michael saw there gave him pause and had him stuttering out of his rhythm. The room was tense for a couple of beats, and maybe a little stunned. It took Jim a second to realise he’d sat forward in his chair, enough to displace Karen’s hand from it’s perch, before he wordlessly sunk back again.

Ever the showman however Michael quickly righted himself, moving on and relenting to Dwight’s incessant offers to volunteer instead.

They’re eventually released and Pam escapes back to her desk, heart still beating hard in her chest. Oh my God. She’d actually stood up for herself for once, and it felt so dang gratifying. Sure, she also felt some lingering awkwardness at having caused a bit of a scene over something relatively minor, but at the end of the day she actively chose not to do something she didn’t want to do rather than sacrifice a piece of herself in order to please someone else. 

It felt good. It felt invigorating, actually.

It sounded silly; a grown woman being proud of herself for being able to stand up for herself and simply say no to somebody. Maybe it was. But regardless, Pam smiled privately and decided to be proud of herself; to take the win where she could get one and let it warm her, especially nowadays when things felt so cold sometimes.

She glanced up from her desk in a quiet moment once the office settled into its usual humdrum, eyes settling in their usual spot on the back of Jim’s neck. Her eyes narrowed and for a second she tried to decipher whether or not he would be proud of her, before quickly chasing the notion away with a little involuntary head shake.

She was proud. Her chest felt lighter (ironically, given her current circumstances) and that would have to learn to be enough in itself.

She was working on it.

*********************************************

Later in the day Jim heard her breath waver behind him, immediately followed by the sound of tissues being hastily ripped from the box. All of a sudden his pen stopped moving halfway through his signature on one of the sales reports in front of him.

“heh’EHtsssh’ue!”

He blinked slowly, fighting against the urge to turn around.

She’d been doing that all day, and he couldn’t help but notice others’ (particularly Angela’s) pointed disdain and he felt annoyed on Pam’s behalf. God, she sounded sick. Like she should really be at home in bed rather than dragging herself here to answer phones and babysit Michael. Although, admittedly he was weirdly happy she was here if it meant seeing her stand up to Michael like she had. That, he was proud of.

Some vague sense of muscle memory twitched in his legs and was about to guide him upwards and towards reception, only a certain promise made to Karen in the dark of her bedroom at 2am, in the aftermath of one of their ‘great talks’, rang in his ears and held him in place.

“If you’re actually serious about us, then out of respect for me, for us, actually, will you at least try?”

And then further back, to what sparked all of this.

“Do you still have feelings for her?”

“...yes”.

Honestly, Jim assumed she was going to break up with him. And although he did genuinely like her a lot, in the half hour he’d spent waiting around for her after she walked off and left him to stew in what he’d just admitted, actually acknowledged out loud for once, Jim had fully reconciled himself to the prospect of them being over. As awful as it sounded it… didn’t feel like the worst thing in the world. He fully understood; even figured he deserved it. He’d been feeling kind of guilty, getting involved with Karen when he knew he wasn’t completely over what happened with Pam, no matter how much he wanted to try. Especially with the extra pressure of returning to Scranton (returning to sitting across from her every day) and Karen making the move for the job.

Jim had made his peace with the idea of them being over by the time she strode back in, back straight, with intent in her eyes, beckoning him to grab his stuff and follow her out.

Turns out she wanted to work things out. She liked him a lot and saw a way forward for them; potential for a future if he felt the same way and wanted to try. If the ‘feelings’ he has now will eventually dissipate with time. 

As taken aback as he was, Jim agreed; lured by the continuation of this prospect of ‘evolution’ and ‘growth’, and a clearer path to getting over Pam (and stop pathetically pining after a girl who likely didn’t see him as anything more than a friend) than he had without someone who he felt he could grow to love to guide him and dangle the proverbial carrot.

“huH’KESSCH’uh! Hhh… hH’esssch’ue!”

So here he was, back where he started. Sitting at his desk, back in Scranton, fighting every instinct screaming at him that it was his job in life to take care of Pam Beesly.

“hh’CHSSHshh’ue!”

Oh man, that last one must have scratched up her throat or something, as she followed it with a soft groan, one which reverberated painfully in his own chest. His eyebrows furrowed with concern.

She got up from her chair and made her way towards the kitchen, and Jim’s eyes discreetly followed her as she passed. She looked like she was just holding it together; her nose, shiny and red, buried in a handful of tissues and the corners of her eyes damp from the overspilling of irritated tears. When he caught her disappearing into the bathroom, he decided ultimately that he couldn’t just sit there on his hands and do nothing. At the end of the day, she was still his friend.

But he also wanted to be fair.

Jim waited a couple of minutes before sauntering over to lean against Karen’s desk.

“Hey…” he spoke quietly, and she acknowledged him quickly before turning back to her computer screen. “...I’m going to make some tea, do you want a cup?”.

“Uh, no thanks; I’m good…” she replied lightly, without her eyes ever leaving the screen. Jim nodded and was about to push himself up, when a momentary look passed over Karen’s face and she jerked her head up to meet his eye. “Thanks for asking though” she smiled.

***************************************

Pam takes longer than she probably needs to straightening herself out in the bathroom, taking the time to blow her nose in peace without feeling like she was being watched or judged, and tried one last ditch (but ultimately fruitless) attempt at calming her mess of curls into some semblance of control. Her head is pounding and whatever adrenaline she’d felt in the aftermath of the meeting earlier had long worn off, leaving her achy and tired and so stuffed up she could barely breathe. Not to mention that she still couldn’t get warmed up for the absolute life of her, and she would go and put her coat on if she didn’t think that would come off a tad dramatic. She checks her watch, heaving out a sigh as she raises her eyes to her reflection in the mirror.

Two more hours, two more hours… you can do this…

When she arrives back at her desk, however, focused on nothing more than simply making it through the rest of the day she does a double-take. On her desk, right next to the keyboard sat a steaming cup of tea. In her favourite mug. Her heart engages quicker than her brain and it knows full well who was behind this, but all the same she slides into her chair with a bitten-back smile and picks up the note sat next to it.

“Although a good hearty beet tea is obviously FAR superior in all respects, medicinal or otherwise, to whatever commercialised garbage you buy at the stores - we didn’t have any to hand. So I suppose this will have to do. Feel better. - Dwight”.

But Pam knows Jim’s handwriting, and she knows that he knows that she would know the script anywhere at this stage. She tries not to search for hidden meaning in the curves of his ‘y’s or his weird ‘a’s that he writes the non-traditional way they would appear on a computer. But the faint hint of a butterfly in her stomach persists, and she chances a glance his way.

It sounds crazy but she can tell he’s smiling even with his back turned to her. Something in the way he’s holding his shoulders.

She takes a sip and the warmth settles comfortably in her stomach, radiating outwards through her whole body.

Suddenly she doesn’t feel quite so cold anymore.

Edited November 2, 2020 by Nebula

[Nebula]

On 10/25/2020 at 7:05 PM, ickydog2006 said:

Very well written, but so looking forward to some more caretaking fluff.

Also - I have to say I personally loved this comment lol. Trust me, I have been as well! But the show made us wait 3 seasons for it, and that's why it's so deeply satisfying when it does happen. Thanks so much for sticking with the story, and there should be a lot more caretaking fluff going forward from here.

[ID2006]

The update was lovely and so excited to hear of more caretaking fluff in the future.

[aggedy_ann]

On 11/1/2020 at 8:36 PM, Nebula said:

It sounds crazy but she can tell he’s smiling even with his back turned to her. Something in the way he’s holding his shoulders

Awwwwww...my feels are in overdrive.

i need a rewatch

[Zwee]

Okay, I knew this installment would be the most painful (tension and unsaid feelings-wise) and intricately woven yet, and you did not disappoint! This exactly what I needed it to be and more! I say this every time but it is just so beautifully written. It picks up all the little glances and body language assertions and unspoken intricacies of the JimPamKaren fabric that is Season 3. I love how much emphasis you put into the Pam and Karen friendship. We've talked before about how Karen is kind of a maligned character, but she is perfectly expressed in this--a deep, intelligent, driven person who approaches her situation with logic but also hope and willingness to ask for what she needs--such a great foil for Pam in this moment.

I'm super proud of Pam for standing her ground and I love that you worked that into this because S3 is really Pam's season IMO. She knows Michael so well, and the resignation that her sneezes would inevitably draw his attention made me laugh while cringing in sympathy. (also love that she tucks tissues up her sleeve, it feels so right for her and is really really cute!) Selfishly, I would have loved to see Jim intervening on her behalf, but when it comes down to it, I prefer the version you wrote and I find it really important that she was the one to stick up for herself in the end!

And, yay, the little teaser of caretaking at the end!! I can't wait until we all finally get the full caretaking we all so desperately want and had to wait 3 long seasons for, lol.

[Nebula]

A/N: As much as I love the Jim and Pam “will they/won’t they” pining, angsty era with lots of juicy character growth and different dynamics and motivations to delve into, their S4-S6 ‘honeymoon’ era is unapologetically my sweet spot. Therefore, for no other narrative reason other than that, I’ll probably divide the next couple of chapters into two parts each as well. Here’s 4A! Takes part sometime after 3x23 “The Job” but before 4x01 “Fun Run”. Very early dating life shenanigans.

As always, thank-you so much for any and all feedback you guys leave, it really does motivate me to keep this thing pushin’, lol. Hope you enjoy!

 

Season 4(A) - (June/July 2007)

 

Pam awakens with a jerk.

She glances up curiously from where her head is pillowed on Jim’s chest, eyes still bleary with sleep. His head is tilted off to the side, a clenched fist pressed hard under flaring nostrils. His expression wavers for a second, and she knows she’s caught him in an awkward moment but Pam can’t help but appreciate how the mid-morning light’s hitting him just right. He looks like he’s glowing a little.

“hhe’h?...hH’NXGST’huh!”

Her head shifts a little as his chest seizes under it, and it may have taken a drowsy moment but she suddenly realises why she’s now awake.

“hhUH’XGSST’uh!”

Her eyebrows furrow, and her fingertips start drawing faint lines up and down his bare side. “Bless you…”. She’s barely said it however, before he’s shaking his head, eyes narrowing and mouth falling open again. “hhh-hH’NXGTS’uh!”

“Bless you, are you-”

“No, s’hh-...sorry, I-” he manages out, switching his fist for his forearm and leaning as far as he could away from Pam without completing displacing her. Her fingers still at his side.

“hh’eHTSSSCHh’uh!”

That one seems to do it, rough and clearing as it was, and he settles back into the mattress. “See, that’s why you shouldn’t hold them in like that. Just makes things worse” she says, shaking her head.

He sniffles and exhales heavily. “Believe it or not, I was trying not to wake you”

Pam smirks, and briefly presses her lips to his skin. “Mission accomplished. Next time I’d say the possibility of a burst blood vessel isn’t worth it”

They both laugh easily, and a comfortable quiet settles between them.

“Seriously though, are you okay? You did that the last time too”.

Last week marked the first they’d slept over at one another’s place. Like all the best things that happened in Pam’s life, it wasn’t necessarily planned out or completely thought through either. It had actually been pretty simple, come to think. They’d had a super nice date; every little bit, from the dumb impressions they’d exchanged over the basket of breadsticks (he was way better at them than she was, but you’d never know by look in his eyes when he laughed at her attempts), to the doodle she quickly sketched on the napkin to illustrate her story about the bird funeral from when he’d been away - it was so them. Just with a little bit more. By the time it was over and he was dropping her off at home Pam just really hadn’t wanted it to end. She could feel herself missing him when he wasn’t even gone yet.

It had already been getting kind of late, but in an impulsive moment that in the moment felt sort of like taking a running jump off a cliff’s edge, she blurted out if he wanted to stay awhile and maybe watch a movie. He smiled immediately, which gave him away despite putting up some display of half-hearted argument along the lines of “I never took you for a night owl, Beesly - isn’t it kind of late? What about those REM cycles...”, but at the same time was already scanning through the stack of DVDs on her bookshelf.

For the record, they watched ‘Dirty Dancing’. And did not do that. Yes, Jim ended up staying over but it was most likely because Pam had fallen asleep on him half-way through the movie and he was too polite to move her. And by the time it was over it really was too late to expect him to leave and drive home, especially with the wine they’d had at dinner and the couple of leftover beers they’d had out of her fridge.

Waking up beside him was something she’d admittedly fantasised about more than once, especially over the course of the last year or so with so many empty nights and quiet moments proceeding days full of trying to keep her mind busy and herself ‘moving forward’ in her ‘new life’. She’d wonder indulgent, surface-level stuff - like how she was sure he must be prone to the most untameable bedhead, she could just tell. Or if she were to, hypothetically, turn away from him to get more comfortable, would he follow her and tuck himself around her? Would he get up to go make the coffee or jump in the shower first and give her five more minutes, or would she be the one having to trail him out of bed?

They knew each other so well in so many respects, back-to-front like yesterday’s newspaper in some cases, but things like this were a whole new hidden, inner world waiting to be discovered now that they were together for real. Things they had no way of being able to know before within the confines of platonic friendship conducted predominantly between the hours of 8:30am and 5pm, Monday to Friday. She was just excited at the prospect of knowing even more about him.

For example, like how Jim has habitual sneezing fits first thing in the morning when he wakes up.

“Nah, I’m good…” he assures from above her, scrubbing his nose hard with a knuckle. “I honestly don’t know why I do it. Apparently it is a ‘thing’, though. It started when I was in high school, I think”.

Pam nods, then looks up at him, seemingly contemplative. Her hand finds his hair (and man she’d been right about the bedhead, even with the neater, ‘corporate’ cut), and she threads her fingers through the pleasurably soft but unfamiliarly too-short strands, as if the affectionate stroking would will it to grow back quicker. “So that would be around the time you had your nose broken by a basketball to the face those two separate times?”

He chuckles, delightfully caught off-guard that she’d remembered him telling her about both instances. Or maybe it was the stroking. “Yeah, probably. To be fair to the people I played basketball with back then though, it is pretty hard to miss”.

She swats his arm with a scoff, “You’re so mean about your own nose!”.

Jim shrugs, but couldn’t help but smile at how offended she sounded on his behalf. “Well, with you to defend it, who needs me?” he replies, pausing for a second as their eyes meet just to properly look at her, before tilting his head down to kiss away her indignation. She submits to happily, the incredulous expression melting away in the happiness of the moment.

 

Later, after briefly falling back to sleep wrapped up in each other for a little while longer (because why not? It’s Saturday), Pam eventually manages to untangle herself from his sleepy hold and pull herself out of bed, despite his groan of disapproval. She potters lazily around Jim’s kitchen for a bit, with the intention of making them some coffee in his fancy, schmancy coffee machine she admittedly has no idea how to work. She’s not snooping, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t find some enjoyment in picking out little pieces of Jim’s life, and his personality, dotted around the space. An Eagles mug on the draining board, a University of Scranton charity calendar on the wall, a dog-eared, beat-up looking copy of ‘Fahrenheit 451’ sitting off to the side on his island. She pauses for an extra long second in front of the fridge, looking at the picture of Jim and his brothers with one of his little newborn nieces or nephews, a warm smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

No, that’s definitely Vanessa. Pam remembered the day she was born a few years ago and Jim got the text about it at work. He’d been so psyched, and so genuine about it she couldn’t help but feel psyched for him. She even remembered sneaking onto his computer while he was in the bathroom and changing his IM name to ‘UncleJim’. It was like second-hand happiness, and it carried them both through right to the end of the day so effectively it completely clouded any memory she may have had about whatever Michael or Dwight had been doing.

Though she puts it off for as long as possible, Pam eventually decides that the coffee machine must be tackled. Surprisingly, after a bit of trial and error in the ‘random button-pushing’ department it certainly sounds like it’s working, and so she’s on her tiptoes, triumphantly hunting in the cupboards for mugs when she hears Jim before she necessarily see’s him entering the room behind her.

“hhH’EHSSCH’uhh!”

She whips around in surprise at the harsh, throaty sound. He’s thrown an old hoodie on and is holding a handful of tissues to his face, a wavering expression telling her he’s not quite done yet.

“hhuH’EISSSH’oo! hhH…”

Pam’s eyebrows furrow and she sets the mugs down on the counter. “Bless y-”

Jim shakes his head as he twists away, before pitching forward once more into steepled hands, the oncoming sneeze shuddering out of him “huH’EHGSSSCH’uh!”.

“Bless you; are they always that bad?” she says with mild concern, busying herself with the coffee preparation while he sheepishly wipes at his nose and crosses the room towards her.

“I guess not… the grass pollen must be high today, or something”

Jim reaches for the counter above her head, pulling down a packet of Claritin from the top shelf. There’s something about his demeanour that strikes her as odd though and Pam’s about to question him further, only is distracted for a second by how close his body is to hers, a little bare strip of his belly just visible as he strains to reach, and she easily gives into the urge to loop her arms around his waist as he fiddles with the box. Just purely because she can. He smiles to himself at the feeling, and knocks the pill back quickly with a mouthful of the oh-so-considerately prepared coffee so that he could pull her in closer to his side.

Like some sort of mind reader, Jim must sense she was about to speak up, because he jumps in quickly with “I gotta ask - how did you get that coffee machine working on the first attempt, with no instructions? It took me at least three weeks to figure it out”.

Pam humours him for a minute, shrugging but with a look of pride. “Intuition and talent, Halpert. Also, maybe, leftover knowledge from having to fix the copier so much at work”. Her eyes glance up towards his face, shining with mirth as they catch his own. “How did you get along without me, again?”

Jim’s momentarily overwhelmed in the moment, feeling a sudden weight in the wording of the playful teasing. “No idea…” he states genuinely, before meeting her as she moves upwards to kiss him, coffee and the earlier nagging uncertainty briefly forgotten as his hand finds her cheek effortlessly.

It wasn’t her fault, okay? Physical touch was one of the biggest, shiniest new elements to what they had now, and it was like now that they could act upon the urges to be physically close to one another, with no fiance’s or girlfriends muddying the waters, it made them realise just how desperate and touch-starved they’d been before.

Lost in this sudden haze of intimacy, he walks her back a bit so that she’s pressed against the counter, both his hands now holding her face as the kiss deepens. Her hands are inquisitive as they skim across the broad planes of his shoulders and settle on either side of his neck, almost subconsciously trying to bring him in closer and closer to her. 

He sniffs once, shortly, then in what feels like an instant, stops completely and the pressure of his mouth against hers is gone. She feels him exhale briefly and she lets out a little, involuntary whimper, her lips instinctively chasing his before she can catch herself. He turns fully away though, stepping to the side and dipping his face into his elbow, expressing dropping to irritation once more.

“S’hh- sorry...hhe’H?...hhuh’EDTSSSCH’uh!”. God, they were really starting to scrape at his throat. He clears his throat and sniffles, trying to recover quickly but with a certain degree of nonchalance.

“Bless you…” She shakes her head with a hint of a chuckle, the daze begins to clear. Suddenly, Pam’s previous line of thought comes rushing back to her. 

“I never knew you had allergies” she challenges, crossing her arms in a way that would look combative if a teasing smirk didn’t seem to be playing at the corner of her lips. “How, after all these years, would I have never noticed you have summer allergies?”.

Now that he’s asserted to her that this is definitely just his allergies playing up (and he’s actually pretty sure that it is - it’s what it feels like, anyway, with the way the itch is burning more than ‘tickling’ necessarily and making his eyes water) he decides there’s nowhere to go but doubling down. He was fine yesterday, and definitely would have felt himself getting sick before right this second. Jim’s watery gaze meets her own, the opposition in hers now mirrored in his, and he grabs the packet of Claritin where it was forgotten on the bench, holding it up to her.

“They only really bother me when the pollen count’s high, and on the days that it is I take two of these before work” he argues, raising an eyebrow in Pam’s direction. Her eyes narrow and she studies him for giveaways, the playful skepticism still rolling off of her in droves. 

Changing gears, Jim’s expression softens. “Beesly, do you honestly think I would kiss you if I thought I was getting sick?”. It’s a tone he oftens saves just for her, devoid of teasing or jokes or deflection. 

He really didn’t think he was, truly, but the more she made him say it the more he felt the urge to question himself. But no… he would’ve felt it coming on. Also, it’s summer and Scranton’s having an unusually warm season. He’s fine, and she’s teasing, but her doubt is just making him overthink it.

The reassurance appears to assuage her, as she moves forward towards him, though her expression remains deceptively serious. “Are you willing pinky promise me, though?” Pam asks, holding out her hand. Playing along, he immediately twines their pinky fingers together and nods. “Promise”.

“I hope you know that that’s legally binding and I’m holding you to it” she says through a smile, though she’s already snuggling back under his arm and reaching for her own mug of coffee. Jim snorts and leans his cheek against her head, immeasurably content at how she feels there. “So what’s the damage if the terms of said contract are not upheld?”.

Pam suddenly looks up at him, so deadpan he’s kind of impressed how she shifted so quickly. “Oh, you don’t wanna know”.

They move around the kitchen as a team getting breakfast ready, scrambling eggs, toasting bread, and cutting up what little fresh fruit Jim had in. No matter how much he tries to insist Pam go sit down and enjoy her coffee, she wanted to help.

And he never has been able to refuse her anything, so why start now?

They’re finally sitting down to eat when Jim poses the question "So what did you tell Kevin you were doing this weekend?".

When they’d started ‘officially dating’ was kind of hazy to decipher. They’d gone on a few dates in and around the time Jim got back from his interview in New York for the corporate position, before settling into this natural rhythm of companionship quickly after. They spent most of their free time together, but still hadn’t really had the ‘boyfriend/girlfriend’ talk yet. Pam had considered broaching it, but she’s just trying to decide how to do so without sounding clunky and weird. Really though, it didn’t actually matter so much at the moment; there was no pressure, and they were in no rush. It had been a long journey getting here, now was the time to just savour and enjoy it. They were seeing each other, they both mutually knew there wasn’t anybody else in the picture, but they were just… enjoying this for what it was right now. The process of learning how to navigate this change in their dynamic, the extra added level.

Unsurprisingly, this was something they wanted to experience without the awkward interference of their nosey co-workers, and so they were keeping it a secret. Which was providing its own set of obstacles, one of which being Kevin’s insistence on uncovering them ever since Karen and Jim’s very loud, very public post-relationship debrief in the kitchen, and the fact that Karen took no time at all transferring the hell out of Scranton after what happened in New York. Throw in what happened at Beach Day and it really didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

That didn’t mean they weren’t going to still bold-facedly deny it, though.

Pam thinks for a second, spearing a piece of banana with her fork. “Going for coffee with Isabel, then a walk in the park. Since the weather’s been so nice lately. You?”

“Oh, that cool. I’m just catching a movie then going for a drink with some college buddies”.

“Sounds nice” Pam teases “Which do you actually wanna do?”.

Jim’s gaze trails over to the window, taking stock of how gorgeously bright the sun is shining. Maybe it’s how ‘in bloom’ everything looks, but the thought gives him this weird phantom ache in his sinuses and he just feels kind of unenthused. He knows it’d probably be chivalrous to tell her it’s up to her and that he doesn’t mind whichever, and to be fair that is what he instinctively wants to do and ordinarily would do, but… yeah. He makes a subtle ‘eh’ gesture.

“Let’s do the movie. I think there’s a new ‘Oceans…’ out. Sounds kind of cool”

 

********************************************************************

 

On Monday morning, Jim can’t help but instinctively glance at Pam's desk the minute he enters, though confusion etches into his features when he finds it empty. They hadn’t seen each other since he left her off home on Saturday night after the movie and eventual dinner, something about her having promised to visit her parents all day Sunday and needing an early start. Apart from the odd text here and there, they really hadn’t spoken much in general either.

Is it weird that 36 hours feels like a long time to be without someone? Like, he’s genuinely excited to see her and it hasn’t even been two days. He’s aware of how much of an asshole this makes him sound, and isn’t proud of it in the least, but being with Karen he’d grown used to feeling relieved when he found out she was busy and that he got to be by himself for a while with no need to perform this version of himself that was cool, put-together, ‘evolved’, and happy to be moving on. It was kind of exhausting.

Jim notices Pam’s bag on the floor under the desk, and her coat on the wrack; so she must be around here somewhere. He quickly tosses his stuff down and boots up his computer, fielding a firm back-pack pat from Kevin in greeting with a smile as he passes Jim’s station, before immediately setting off to find her.

Oh, and after a couple of bad allergy days Saturday and Sunday, the whole thing seemed to have blown over. He hadn’t ended up bothering to definitively check the pollen count after all, because who needed it when he had a pretty obvious, built-in indicator, right? The fact that it had all cleared up so quickly only further reassured him in his assumption that-

Jim stops up short when he rounds the corner from the annex into the break room, mouth dropping open in surprise when he sees her, sitting alone at a table right in the far corner. She looks…

Pam just catches sight of him before turning away towards the vending machines, snapping the back of her hand to her (adorably) pink nose. “Hhh-Halpert, you’re a d-dhh’... a dead mban...h’KTSSH’ue! hehh- h’EHKSShh’ue”. If the sneezes hadn’t sounded so heavy and irritated, then the little groan that follows them would’ve told him all he needed to know about how she was feeling.

Jim’s instantly flooded with guilt. “Oh- are you…” he stammers out, and she shoots him a clear ‘what do you think?’ look as she pulls a little ball of tissue out of her skirt pocket to dab away the dampness. His stomach sinks with the realisation as the whole weekend recontextualises itself in his head, and he moves closer to her, wanting to reach out but at the same time painfully aware of where they are. “I’m so sorry, truly, I-I didn’t know…”

Only because of how genuine the remorse shone in his eyes (God he actually looks stricken), Pam takes pity and huffs out a humourless laugh, crossing the room to join him. She glances at the door, then puts a comforting hand on his side. “Don’t worry about it, I believe you” she says genuinely, glancing from where she’s leant against a table beside him. Then out of nowhere, she smiles. “And anyway, like I said. That pinkie contract is legally binding so get ready to make a lot of tea in the next couple of days”.

“Deal” Jim says quickly, wishing he could do more in that moment to help, or just like, do something at least. However, her evident playfulness helps to partly loosen the weight of worry in his chest, and he manages to conjure his own version of her teasing expression. “But wow, is that all you wanted in damages? You’ve got to go big or go home, Beesly”.

Rising to the occasion, she stands up a little straighter opposite him. “Fine. I want soup too, then”

His eyebrows pull downwards, and it takes all she has not to giggle at his exaggerated, goofy little expression. Just like they fall into, well, them.

“Where am I supposed to get soup around here?”.

“Gee, that sure sounds like a ‘you’ problem, and ndot a mbe one”.

He mimes a look of shock at the comeback, then nods in concession, and mimes ticking it off a list mid-air. “Consider it done-”

Her eyes light up as the ideas for requests start rolling in “Ooh - throat candy too”.

“Alright, now you’re gettin’ it. Some gross, blackcurrant flavoured lozenges - no problem”

She squeaked in indignance. “Hey, some people like them!” 

“You are the only person I know that likes them”.

There’s challenge in her eyes and she’s about to fire back, only a flurry of coughs swallow her words pitifully as she twists away into her elbow. It cuts through the unlikely fun of the moment, and suddenly Jim’s gaze softens again.

“I’m sorry” He says it with his eyes, and suddenly the break room like it could have been a million miles away from all of their annoying, potentially interfering co-workers that they’re trying to hide from. Giving into an urge, Jim reaches out and tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

“It’s okay” She replies with her own, using his shoulder as support to pull herself up onto her tiptoes, and press a light kiss to his cheek that really kick starts his heart rate. Was it because they were kind of sneaking around? Or maybe something to do with how ‘new’ this all still was? He couldn’t deny the fledgling hope they might always retain even a little bit of this feeling.

Jim feels like some sort of schoolboy, warmth rushing to his face as he’s left with the phantom sensation of her lips on his cheek. His eyes follow Pam as she leaves, and he’s infinitely glad he does when she turns back around just as she reaches the doorframe, one more silent note of communication passing between them in her small, bitten-back smile.

“Worth it”.

 

[ID2006]

I love that he passed it on to Pam and I look forward to the upcoming caretaking.

[Zwee]

Ugh this amazing piece of sleepy, affectionate, domestic bliss is SO my jam and it bodes so well for the rest of your series if this is the kind of thing we have to look forward to! The feeling of fresh, new relationship excitement is just woven into every inch of this chapter. The cute banter, the innocent cuddling, the considerate way they each try to avoid waking the other at different points in the chapter, the thirst Pam has for new information about not-at-work-Jim... Utter perfection.

I love the way you started the chapter; I hope you know the descriptions (and spellings) of Jim's desperation are super-hot. Plus the fact that he completely fails to be discreet, and Pam teases him about it is lovely. "Mission accomplished" made me smile. Also the way she comes to adamant defense of his nose, the fact that he's self-deprecating about it and the fact that she disagrees feels so in character.

And then that pinkie contract (that he unknowingly violates)! Just the idea that he has absolutely no idea he's fought off a cold until he sees it reflected back, a million times worse thanks to her lacking immune system, is lovely. I can totally picture the stricken, remorseful look on his face and I love that Pam doesn't let him off the hook right away! And she's just a little too bleary, too sick to come up with a good payback off the top of her head until he helps her build up steam. And that nonverbal conversation is a HUGE Jim/Pam headcanon for me, like, they know each other well enough to know exactly what that little expression means, it's just perfect. You're perfect. I can't praise you enough, seriously.

[sneezingfun894]

Ugh I need more!!!