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04 January 2009 @ 10:03 pm
THIS IS OUR FATE, I'M YOURS (the office, jim/pam)  
this is our fate, i'm yours
Rated PG, features Jim and Pam
Short; complete
SPOILERS Post-Job Fair

***

She asks him later when she's laying on his chest and he's playing with her hair and she's listening to his heart beat and she's pretty content because this is always her favorite part of the day and well, because of other things too.

"How'd you manage it anyway?" She asks, rubbing circles on his chest.



"Hmm?"

"The sale. I thought you'd said it'd be pretty tricky."

"Psft. You forget who you're talking to."

Pam giggles. "Seriously."

"Uh. I don't know, I think my charisma and charm and dazzling smile did it all for me."

"No, really."

"I stood outside his car door for fifteen minutes and begged him."

Pam snorts and laughs. "You did not!"

Jim sighs, turning towards her and closes his eyes and buries his face into her shoulder. "Shut up, Beesly."

"Wow," Pam replies, smiling and rubbing her hands down his back. "I think that's the hardest you've ever had to work for a sell.. well.. ever."

"Yeah, yeah."

There's a pause when she smiles and sighs and nestles into him closer, and squeezes him tightly and wonders if she'll ever, ever get tired of this. "What do you think of New York or Philadelphia?" she whispers.

She'd hadn't really meant to say it but she was curious. Not that she'd actually do it anytime soon, or that she even would (there were those adult education classes she'd have to take) but in all the time she'd spend thinking about it today, half of it was wondering what Jim thought.

"Why do you ask?" Jim replies, not moving from his spot. "This place too happening for you?"

"Hmm, maybe."

Jim opens his eyes and moves back to glance at her, trying his best to read her face in the semi-darkness, hoping the glint from the streetlights would help him. "Something happen today?" He asks, wondering exactly where her random line of questioning was coming from.

She shrugs. "Just wondering."

Jim shakes his head and decides to let it slide.. for now. "I don't know. I think if I could go to a Phillies game once a month, I'd die a happy man."

"Doesn't take much, does it?"

"You should know."

He laughs when she punches him in the arm. "Oww, you're so mean."

Pam grins and moves to sit on top of him, lightly pushing him to the pillows. She sits there for a moment and stares at him and sees the faint outline of a smile on his face and feels his fingers against the small of her back and wonders how she ever went so long without him.

She leans towards him and softly kisses him and sighs against his mouth. "Do you love me?"

"I am quite fond of you."

She ignores his comment because she can hear the soft hitch in his voice. "Promise me that no matter what happens, it'll always be you and me?"

He's not really sure where her head is or what's making her ask all these questions but as he wraps his arms around her and pulls her to him, he's a little bit grateful because it's almost as if she's answering all the unasked questions in his head too.

"Yeah," Jim replies, closing his arms tightly around her. "Been trying to work on that, actually."

"So you keep saying. Ever hear the story of the boy that cried wolf, Jim?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Just wondering if you heard of it."

"You're going to feel bad about bothering me when I kick your ass, you know."

"You kinda have to with all the torture you're putting me through."

"Remember you said that. Because I won't let you live it down for the rest of your life when it does happen."

Pam laughs slightly. "Counting on it." She rolls off him a little and lays on his shoulder and kisses his neck softly. "You know, assuming you get around to it."

She closes her eyes and hears his silence and wants to ask where his brilliant comeback is but she doesn't as he pulls her closer and wraps his legs with hers. She smiles, a little victoriously, and kisses his cheek. "Night, Jim." She whispers.

The last thought she has before she falls asleep is that it doesn't get much better than this.

 
 
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