Disclaimer: I don't own The Office, Motion City Soundtrack, Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Pam Pong, Shirley Temples, McDonald's, The 'Roy Anderson' thing, Dwight's bobble-heads, or Baby Ruths. I only own Laurelin.

Summary: How every other JAM goes… especially after Casino Night. My first Office fic. Be gentle.

Hold Me Down

I dream. I dream of a number of magnificent and stupid things enveloping my senses. I dream of tasting cherries so sweet that I nearly choke of shock and happiness. I dream of smelling wood and ash and roses. I dream of hearing music. I dream of seeing a beautiful house with a porch swing and seeing that special someone sitting on it. I dream of touching his skin and dancing happily with him to the music of our love. I dream.

I dream of a light blue house with a white picket fence and a big green yard and lots of different colored flowers growing amongst vines of ivy on a terrace so overgrown that you can't tell what color the wood is.

I dream of my husband painting the house light blue and white-washing the fence and my children running around in the yard and smelling the flowers and watching them run around from the porch swing while I sip iced tea and lean against my husband.

I dream of owning a large yard on a lake while I paint my husband and my children swimming and playing on the lake. I dream of seeing things on that lake so beautiful that it hurts to look at them.

I dream of falling asleep in my bed next to my husband and waking up among lilies and overgrown grass and large oak trees and a field of color so bright that my eyes go blind for a few seconds before I can see all the colors. I dream of turning around and seeing my husband and my children laughing from the lower branches of the trees at my surprise and delight and my love.

I dream of traveling through Europe with nothing but my love and my easel and my paint and painting the sights of understated love. I dream of colors that have never been made until I made them with my paint and my brush mixing the colors.

I dream of standing before a fountain in front of an opera house in Paris and looking into the eyes of the one I love and seeing a future of things so magnificent and simple that I want to cry, and do, of the beauty of it all.

I dream of painting the rooms of our house and making it a home and being covered in a number of different paint and still having him look at me like I'm the only thing he ever wants to think about again.

I dream of him gazing lovingly at me, and wanting to jump on him when he looks at me like that. I dream of growing old with him and sharing little moments that lead to big moments that lead to gigantic moments, all filled with a love so brilliant that I can't help but cry.

I dream of us.

I dream of our family.

I dream of… him.

And every time I dream, I don't see Roy. I don't see Roy or the boy I shared my first kiss with whose name, I think, was Nathan. I don't see Roy or Nathan or even bloody Brad Pitt or George Clooney or any other celebrities.

I see Jim, and that scares me. I see Jim and our perfect children and our life together.

And what scares me the most about this is that I find myself rushing home just to dream of it at the end of the day.

But they're just dreams. I wish they were real, but… they aren't.


Pam finished typing and saved the file to a separate folder that she named 'Tea Pot' because of all the things in the tea pot that reminded her of how much she loved Jim.

Michael came out and instantly gravitated to her desk. "Pam! Pam-e-la! Say… today is…?"

Pam sighed, expecting this question and hating his excitement on a day when she was so drained. "Today is the sixth of June."

"Of the year…?"

"Two thousand six."

Michael grinned. "Uh-oh! Six six six! Better stay close to Angela, she'll save you from the Devil!" He put his fingers in a cross shape and waved it around wildly.

Jim sat hunched over his desk, and smirked quickly at Michael's antics. He looked up, and saw Pam watching him, and quickly went back to work.

Ever since Casino Night, things had been weirder between them… but more work got done, so the people that knew about it (namely: Dwight and Angela) ignored the tension and were happy for the productivity that resulted.

It had been about a month since the incident, and Jim had taken to eating lunch with Ryan, Kelly, and, in times of desperateness, Creed, who still called him Tim. And then, when, after two weeks, Ryan and Kelly started getting weird with each other and Creed had left for vacation, Dwight and Angela happened upon Jim sitting in the break room… alone save a, as Angela had said, "lonely little ham and cheese sandwich" and, as Dwight had said, a "sad excuse of a soda" and had invited him to eat lunch with them the next day. Jim, as much as he and Dwight hadn't gotten along before, agreed, and had stopped playing pranks on him so much.

Sure, there was the occasional jello-stapler or moving of the desk, but those were few and far between. And Pam, as much as she was glad Jim and Dwight were getting along and Angela had stopped playing Pam Pong, missed Jim. A lot.

About a month ago

Pam slid her hands down Jim's chest, and pushed him away lightly. They stared at each other for a few seconds before she looked away, down at the phone and then down at her hands, her right one fiddling with her engagement ring.

Pam spoke first. "I… um… I have to go." And with that she edged around Jim and started towards the door. She stopped in her tracks at one statement, though.

It was quiet, so quiet she almost didn't hear it. "I'll still love you. Even after fifty years, I'll still love you. Even if you're married to someone else."

She blinked back tears and walked away again, hearing Jim walk towards the break room. She heard the sound of movement as the cameraman, Brad, scurried off into the men's bathroom.

She walked down to where Casino Night was still going on, only less booming than it had been before. She found Michael and Carol walking towards his car, arms around each other, both grinning madly.

Angela had already left, as was expected. Phyllis and Bob were smiling lovingly at each other, and Kevin, Creed, and Stanley had all left about half an hour ago, Kevin and Stanley carting a drunken Meredith between them.

Toby had left after Creed won his free mini-fridge, saying he was tired, both of Michael and just tired in general.

Really, that left Ryan, Dwight, and Kelly to ask to take her home. Kelly would ask why she was so upset, or why she wasn't getting a ride with Jim, and Pam didn't think she could take that.

She didn't want to face the wrath of Kelly, either, which left Ryan out. She had seen and heard what had happened on Take Your Daughter To Work Day, and didn't want Kelly telling someone about something she had done and get yelled at.

That left Dwight. Pam suppressed a shudder. She briefly thought of calling Roy, but figured he'd be asleep or get angry at having to pick her up after he had just gotten home. Sighing, she went towards the warehouse and started looking for Dwight.

Kelly came over a few times, asking Pam if she had seen Ryan and if she knew where he would be. Each time, Pam shook her head, and told her she had no idea, effectively covering for Ryan, who she had seen duck behind the bar with the help of Bill the bartender, taking a bottle of vodka with him.

Dwight was sitting at the bar holding a Shirley Temple, scowling disapprovingly at Ryan. Pam sat down next to him. This was going to be hard.

"Dwight?" she asked tentatively. If this went the wrong way, then she would have to ask Ryan to take her home, which looked like a bad idea, seeing as Kelly would probably scalp her and for the fact that Ryan was attempting to get as drunk as possible.

Dwight turned to her with a curious look on his face. "Yes, Pam? How can I be of service?"

Pam sighed, obviously tired and a little annoyed. "Dwight, I need you to do me a favor and drive me home."

He quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. Ryan stood up quickly, swaying slightly. "Pam, I'll drive you home. I need to get out of here. Please."

There was a light shriek, and Kelly was next to the bar in seconds. "Ryan! There you are! No wonder I couldn't find you! You were behind the bar! Pam, thanks for helping me find him!" Kelly grabbed his arm and drug him out from behind the bar and out the door. He shot her a betrayed look, and took a hearty swig out of the bottle of vodka he was still holding.

Pam turned back to Dwight, blinking in confusion for a moment. "Anyways… I need you to drive me home. Now."

Dwight wasn't as clueless as they thought, and obviously sensed the urgency in her voice before she even said 'now'. He downed the rest of his Shirley Temple and swung his jacket around his shoulders.

They walked out and over to his car, and Pam waved at a drunk Ryan and a loving Kelly, who was still carting him off.

The ride to Pam's house was silent… until Dwight decided to get inquisitive and started asking her why Jim wasn't driving her.

Pam was too tired and, perhaps, sad? to keep bottling her feelings up, and started telling Dwight everything that had happened, from the declaration of love to what was happening right at that moment.

He was silent when she finished, but only for a few moments. "I cannot tell you what to do Pamela, but I think you should listen to your heart, and do whatever it tells you."

This surprised Pam, and she thought 'Wow. Dwight can be really good at advice when he wants to.'

They soon reached her house, and she thanked him before going inside and straight to bed.


She didn't know if Dwight had told Jim what she had said or not, but his sudden friendship with him didn't go unnoticed by Pam.

In two days, Jim was leaving to Australia. In four days, Pam was getting married. In two weeks, Jim would be back, and would have to face Pam Anderson, not Pam Beesley. The thought made her sad, if not a little sick. She just had to go and get engaged to a man with the last name 'Anderson'.

She looked at the clock in the lower right-hand corner of her computer screen, and saw that she had ten minutes left before she could leave. She checked the voice mail system, and heard that she had five new messages, and quickly checked them.

Ten minutes later, after all the messages were given to whomever they were for, Pam walked out, alone.


Jim sat in the break room for the fifth time that day, and Dwight walked in, sitting across from him with a bottle of water. "Jim, I think it's time you and I had a talk."

"Listen, Dwight, I gotta tell you now, I didn't put your bobble-heads in the freezer, I swear it! It was… it was Angela!" Jim explained, laughing slightly every so often.

Dwight looked confused, and then narrowed his eyes. "You better hope it wasn't you, Halpert, or my purple belt skills just might come out and your arm might be missing."

Jim grinned, and drank his grape soda. "So… what did you want to talk about?"

Dwight looked him in the eyes, and started talking. "Pam told me what happened on Casino Night. She's getting married in four days, and you leave in two. Either you woo her and steal her from Roy in two days, or you let her get married to him in four. Take your pick." With that, he got up and left after buying two Baby Ruth bars, one for Angela.

Jim blinked, and leaned back into his chair. What was this office coming to?

Half an hour later

Jim was sitting at his desk, his clock reading 5:30. Fifteen minutes ago, his sixteen-year-old niece, Laurelin, had sent him an email with a link to a site called Like a good uncle, he indulged her, and went to the site. The next thing in the email said to search for Motion City Soundtrack, and then to listen to them. He did.

He had listened to Hold Me Down four times so far, and was currently reading the lyrics. "How will I break the news to you?"

He sat still, reading the lyrics and hearing the song long after it had changed. Everyone had left for the day. Everyone except Angela and Dwight. They stayed behind, watching him in case he should do something stupid. They had been doing this every time he stayed late.

He clicked out of everything except the lyrics, stopping the words from The Future Freaks Me Out from flowing out his speakers and into their ears. He printed the lyrics quickly, and walked over to Pam's desk. He was going to do something.

Angela watched him, and got up, watching him over the partition. She looked over at Dwight, who had gotten up as well, and was watching him from the counter.

He opened her documents, and typed the lyrics into a page. He was about to save it, and noticed a file called 'Tea Pot'. Naturally a curious guy, he opened it, and saw, not pictures as he had expected, but files named things like 'Dreams' and 'Hoping' and 'Love'. He opened 'Dreams', still curious. Dwight looked apprehensive, but he didn't care.

He read the document several times before printing it out and handing it to Dwight. Angela walked over and began reading it over his shoulder. After awhile, both of them were smiling.

While they were doing this, Jim copied the lyrics onto the end of the document, making them a light blue, so she would know they were his. At the end, he wrote, still in light blue,

"This is how I'm breaking the news to you. I'm taking a transfer to Stamford. I won't be back after my trip… unless you give me a reason to stay. I'm sorry if I invaded your privacy, but… I needed you to know. You are my everything. I love you. – Jim"

He exited out, saving the changes, and turned off her computer. Then he gathered his things, and left.


Early the next morning, at around 6:30 a.m., Pam walked in the office, and sat down at her desk, starting up her computer as she organized her desk for the day.

She had a sleepless night, and, for some reason, was itching to read her Dreams document again. She went into the kitchen and made some coffee, waiting patiently so she could get a cup of it. Her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten that morning.

She walked over to her desk, grabbed her keys, and made a quick run to McDonald's, getting a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit for Michael, because she knew he would want one if she had her own breakfast. And if he had already eaten breakfast, she could just give it to Jim.

She made it back to the office in ten minutes, and drank her orange juice patiently, waiting for Jim to come in and get his food.

He did, fifteen minutes later. She saw him get out of his car from a window, and set the bag on his desk just before he walked in.

He said good morning, and walked with his head bowed. He looked at his desk and saw the bag there. He turned to her desk, and saw her grinning from behind her own sausage egg and cheese biscuit. He grinned and thanked her before scarfing it down like men do.

7:30 A.M.

Pam opened her Dreams document, reading slowly, taking in every word. She smiled when she reread about waking up among lilies, and again when she took in the statement about painting the rooms of their house.

Soon, she wasn't grinning anymore. Because, written in light blue, was something she hadn't written.

I found a letter that said:

"I'm sorry that you were asleep when I wrote these words down,"

You'd think I'd ought to be used to that by now.

Save for a few of those late night episodes,

Missed opportunities, and "I Don't Cares,"

There's not a lot that I feel obliged to share or talk about.

I'll have my brother stop by this Saturday to pick up my thing,

Just make sure you're not there.

This may sound bad, and don't take it the wrong way…

I love you, however,

You hold me down.

You hold me down.

You hold me down.

You hold me down.

You're the echoes of my everything,

You're the emptiness the whole world sings at night.

You're the laziness of afternoon,

You're the reason why I burst and why I bloom…

How will I break the news to you?

How will I break the news to you?

Cancel our dinner with Max and Coraline,

Feed Jacky's gerbil and try to stay clean.

We'll talk it over after I've had some time alone to sort it out.

You hold me down.

You hold me down.

You hold me down.

You hold me down.

You're the echoes of my everything,

You're the emptiness the whole world sings at night.

You're the laziness of afternoon,

You're the reason why I burst and why I bloomed.

You're the leaky sink of sentiment,

You're the failed attempts I never could forget.

You're the metaphors I can't create to comprehend this curse that I call love.

How will I break the news to you?

How will I break the news to you?

How will I break the news to you?

How will I break the news to you?

How will I break the news to you?

This is how I'm breaking the news to you. I'm taking a transfer to Stamford. I won't be back after my trip… unless you give me a reason to stay. I'm sorry if I invaded your privacy, but… I needed you to know. You are my everything. I love you. – Jim

Pam clapped her hand to her mouth, and rushed into the ladies' room. She sat on the floor, and cried. She cried more tears than she knew she had. Then she got up, dried her tears, and got another cup of coffee.

Then she sent Jim an email.


It was 7:45 before he opened it. "Jim," it read. "I love you, too. I'm telling Roy tonight."

He smiled.


That night, while Roy was out with the guys, Pam packed up everything she owned and loaded it in her car.

It was nearly midnight when he stumbled through the doors, drunk, and up the stairs. He didn't even notice that her things weren't there and that she was sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of tea.

While he was sleeping, she wrote out the lyrics of Hold Me Down, and left a note at the bottom.

"Roy," she wrote. "I can't take this. I'm sorry, and I know it's really close to the wedding, but I've canceled it while you were out. I loved you once, but… you hold me down. – Pam"

She left.


One year later

Pam and Jim sat in front of a light blue house on a porch swing, eating cherries and drinking iced tea. A golden ring gleamed in the afternoon sun on her left hand. An identical one sat on his left hand. And next to the front door was a white terrace overgrown with flowers and ivy.

A song came on over the speakers of a stereo sitting nearby, and Jim stood, offering her his hand. And they danced. And he smelled like wood and ash and roses.


Kind of long for a one-shot, but, hey, whatever.

There was a different ending about them going with Laurelin to a Motion City Soundtrack concert, but it was getting too long and it was getting kind of bad, so I got rid of it.

This isn't exactly the best I've ever written, but, hey. I like it. Sorry, though, that Dwight and Angela are Jim's friends now. I never meant for that to happen, but… it worked for me.

Hope you liked it.