Fireworks
Title: Fireworks
Rating: MA
Fandom: The Office
Pairing: Jim/Pam
Summary: Jim & Pam have been sorta/unofficially dating ever since The Job. Its the Fourth of July and they want to spend it together
Spoilers: Through season three.; The Job
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not Mine. Not Not Mine. That's What She Said.
This is the final part of my teensy-beensy little Jammy ficlet. Thanks to those of you who R&R! I also posted it at MTT, the source for EVERYTHING Halpert&Beesly related.
When Pam awoke the next morning at six-forty-five - the time her alarm went off each day for work - she cursed Jose Cuervo, Anheiser Busch and everyone who worked for them, the pounding in her head so fierce she couldn’t even lift it up off the pillow.
Then she heard someone moan pitifully beside her and for a second - a split second - she froze, thinking: Roy!?
And then a long, lanky body pressed against her and she heard the most familiar, adored voice in her life, “Morning.”
Definitely not Roy. Thank God, Pam inwardly sighed, and grinned, ignoring her swelling, throbbing, sobbing brain, and reached blindly for him. “Morning.”
They kissed quickly and finally she opened her eyes, focused them on him. He looked just as pained as she was. His hair was in complete disarray and his big hazel eyes were bloodshot and glassy with hangover.
“I kinda want to call in sick today,” she suggested hoarsely.
Jim nodded lamely. “I think I might still be drunk.”
She burst out laughing, immediately crying out when her brain rebelled and her head almost exploding. Clutching her palms to her forehead, she groaned. “Yeah, I know I still am.”
He laughed too, clearly not as hungover as she so that he couldn’t freely laugh, and dropped his head back to the pillow, looking down at the two of them naked and wrapped up in her dark blue sheets. “It’s nice waking up next to you, though,” he murmured, his eyes so big and genuine and full of love she almost cried. “I was afraid when I got up I’d be back at my place and all of this would be just about the best dream of my entire life.”
She smiled in spite of the headache and hangover. “It was for me too,” she sighed. “I’m happy.”
“I’m glad.” He stared at her silently with one of those intense I-adore-you looks and she hung there transfixed in his gaze. “We should have always been like this,” he whispered passionately, slowly shaking his head at the absurdity of how long it took, how unreal it still felt.
“I know,” Pam murmured quietly, still unable to look away. “I was scared.”
“So was I,” Jim said, looking away. “I was so afraid what would happen to me if you married him.”
“I didn’t,” she whispered, reaching for his hand to draw his gaze back to her. “I couldn’t.”
They were silent for a long time, just lying there, their bodies leaning against one another, enjoying the silence. But then finally Pam had to know, had to ask. She turned, leaning on her elbow to eye him. “We’re together now, right?”
Jim stared at her blankly for a moment. “What?”
Pam could have slapped him. It was hard enough to say it, to ask, to need . . . But instead of backing down, she Fancy New Beesly’d it up and forged ahead. “We’re together now, right? You and me?”
He smiled slowly as her words sank in. “Pam.”
“Jim.”
“Do you know how long I’ve loved you?”
She shook her head, nothing existing beyond the two of them at that moment. “No.” Somehow his hand had reached out to grab hers and bridge their fingers together. He traced the dips in between each digit, tracing her hand with his index finger, thrilling over being able to lie with her, touch her, love her this way without the guilt, without the pain, without the heartache of knowing - thinking - she would never be his.
“Me neither,” Jim shrugged. “Its kind of like it was just always there. Like, I met you and . . .” He looked down at their hands clasped together. Even though they had talked Roy and Karen to death, they hadn’t talked this. “And then I found out you were engaged.”
She nodded, pursing her lips to stem the sudden urge to cry. She felt so stupid for being so clueless and afraid for so long. “I thought you were cute,” she said meekly, so quiet he could barely hear.
“What?” he asked, dipping his head to gaze into her eyes.
She cleared her throat, spoke and looked up. “I thought you were cute,” she repeated, watching the surprise delight on his face. “When we first met. I thought you were really cute.”
Jim grinned suddenly and it was infectious - she nearly swooned. “Yeah?”
She nodded, smiling so hard her face hurt. She had no idea why she was blushing when she was lying naked in bed beside him potentially still drunk after an all-night sex-binge. But sometimes she still felt so . . . like her old self around him. “And the more I got to know you, the hotter you became.”
Jim’s brow quirked. “Hot?” She bit her lip to keep from laughing at the adorable expression on his face. “So I went from Cute to Really Cute to Hot?”
Pam nodded, licking her lips with a mixture of delight and embarrassment and anxiety. “Yeah.”
He leaned in to kiss her softly. “When did I get to Really Hot?”
She rose a brow at that, pulling back enough to eye him suspiciously. “Who said you did?”
He feigned hurt, pouting profusely. “You wound me, Beesly.”
She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him to her, her headache suddenly, miraculously vanishing beyond the hazy fog of loving Jim Halpert. “Shut up and kiss me, Jim.”
He rolled his eyes, but his smile was playful. “Well, that’s a little cliché but I can never deny a beautiful lady.”
“That is also a cliché,” Pam pointed out joyfully, so deliriously happy that things were okay between them she was nearly bursting with it. “Seems like we’re full of them lately.”
Jim screwed his face up with one of his trademark expressions and she dissolved into laughter again. They kissed hungrily, ravenously, desperately, tongues and teeth and lips intertwining in a frantic dance. She fisted his hair, delighted that it was growing back, squeezed her eyes tighter and gave, gave, gave, kissing him until they were both nonsensical, breathless, panting and gasping and heaving for air.
“We’re definitely together,” Jim murmured, dropping his head to rest on her chest. “You and me.” It would still take some getting used to. But he was okay with that.
Pam smiled, her eyes filling with tears of delight. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him tighter to her body still, and sighed deeply, raggedly, letting all the tension and drama and angst and worry of the last three years completely leave her. “Good.”
Yeah, they were definitely calling in sick.
Thanks for reading!!! :)
Rating: MA
Fandom: The Office
Pairing: Jim/Pam
Summary: Jim & Pam have been sorta/unofficially dating ever since The Job. Its the Fourth of July and they want to spend it together
Spoilers: Through season three.; The Job
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not Mine. Not Not Mine. That's What She Said.
This is the final part of my teensy-beensy little Jammy ficlet. Thanks to those of you who R&R! I also posted it at MTT, the source for EVERYTHING Halpert&Beesly related.
When Pam awoke the next morning at six-forty-five - the time her alarm went off each day for work - she cursed Jose Cuervo, Anheiser Busch and everyone who worked for them, the pounding in her head so fierce she couldn’t even lift it up off the pillow.
Then she heard someone moan pitifully beside her and for a second - a split second - she froze, thinking: Roy!?
And then a long, lanky body pressed against her and she heard the most familiar, adored voice in her life, “Morning.”
Definitely not Roy. Thank God, Pam inwardly sighed, and grinned, ignoring her swelling, throbbing, sobbing brain, and reached blindly for him. “Morning.”
They kissed quickly and finally she opened her eyes, focused them on him. He looked just as pained as she was. His hair was in complete disarray and his big hazel eyes were bloodshot and glassy with hangover.
“I kinda want to call in sick today,” she suggested hoarsely.
Jim nodded lamely. “I think I might still be drunk.”
She burst out laughing, immediately crying out when her brain rebelled and her head almost exploding. Clutching her palms to her forehead, she groaned. “Yeah, I know I still am.”
He laughed too, clearly not as hungover as she so that he couldn’t freely laugh, and dropped his head back to the pillow, looking down at the two of them naked and wrapped up in her dark blue sheets. “It’s nice waking up next to you, though,” he murmured, his eyes so big and genuine and full of love she almost cried. “I was afraid when I got up I’d be back at my place and all of this would be just about the best dream of my entire life.”
She smiled in spite of the headache and hangover. “It was for me too,” she sighed. “I’m happy.”
“I’m glad.” He stared at her silently with one of those intense I-adore-you looks and she hung there transfixed in his gaze. “We should have always been like this,” he whispered passionately, slowly shaking his head at the absurdity of how long it took, how unreal it still felt.
“I know,” Pam murmured quietly, still unable to look away. “I was scared.”
“So was I,” Jim said, looking away. “I was so afraid what would happen to me if you married him.”
“I didn’t,” she whispered, reaching for his hand to draw his gaze back to her. “I couldn’t.”
They were silent for a long time, just lying there, their bodies leaning against one another, enjoying the silence. But then finally Pam had to know, had to ask. She turned, leaning on her elbow to eye him. “We’re together now, right?”
Jim stared at her blankly for a moment. “What?”
Pam could have slapped him. It was hard enough to say it, to ask, to need . . . But instead of backing down, she Fancy New Beesly’d it up and forged ahead. “We’re together now, right? You and me?”
He smiled slowly as her words sank in. “Pam.”
“Jim.”
“Do you know how long I’ve loved you?”
She shook her head, nothing existing beyond the two of them at that moment. “No.” Somehow his hand had reached out to grab hers and bridge their fingers together. He traced the dips in between each digit, tracing her hand with his index finger, thrilling over being able to lie with her, touch her, love her this way without the guilt, without the pain, without the heartache of knowing - thinking - she would never be his.
“Me neither,” Jim shrugged. “Its kind of like it was just always there. Like, I met you and . . .” He looked down at their hands clasped together. Even though they had talked Roy and Karen to death, they hadn’t talked this. “And then I found out you were engaged.”
She nodded, pursing her lips to stem the sudden urge to cry. She felt so stupid for being so clueless and afraid for so long. “I thought you were cute,” she said meekly, so quiet he could barely hear.
“What?” he asked, dipping his head to gaze into her eyes.
She cleared her throat, spoke and looked up. “I thought you were cute,” she repeated, watching the surprise delight on his face. “When we first met. I thought you were really cute.”
Jim grinned suddenly and it was infectious - she nearly swooned. “Yeah?”
She nodded, smiling so hard her face hurt. She had no idea why she was blushing when she was lying naked in bed beside him potentially still drunk after an all-night sex-binge. But sometimes she still felt so . . . like her old self around him. “And the more I got to know you, the hotter you became.”
Jim’s brow quirked. “Hot?” She bit her lip to keep from laughing at the adorable expression on his face. “So I went from Cute to Really Cute to Hot?”
Pam nodded, licking her lips with a mixture of delight and embarrassment and anxiety. “Yeah.”
He leaned in to kiss her softly. “When did I get to Really Hot?”
She rose a brow at that, pulling back enough to eye him suspiciously. “Who said you did?”
He feigned hurt, pouting profusely. “You wound me, Beesly.”
She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him to her, her headache suddenly, miraculously vanishing beyond the hazy fog of loving Jim Halpert. “Shut up and kiss me, Jim.”
He rolled his eyes, but his smile was playful. “Well, that’s a little cliché but I can never deny a beautiful lady.”
“That is also a cliché,” Pam pointed out joyfully, so deliriously happy that things were okay between them she was nearly bursting with it. “Seems like we’re full of them lately.”
Jim screwed his face up with one of his trademark expressions and she dissolved into laughter again. They kissed hungrily, ravenously, desperately, tongues and teeth and lips intertwining in a frantic dance. She fisted his hair, delighted that it was growing back, squeezed her eyes tighter and gave, gave, gave, kissing him until they were both nonsensical, breathless, panting and gasping and heaving for air.
“We’re definitely together,” Jim murmured, dropping his head to rest on her chest. “You and me.” It would still take some getting used to. But he was okay with that.
Pam smiled, her eyes filling with tears of delight. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him tighter to her body still, and sighed deeply, raggedly, letting all the tension and drama and angst and worry of the last three years completely leave her. “Good.”
Yeah, they were definitely calling in sick.
Thanks for reading!!! :)