This is the last chapter I do believe. Thanks for sticking with me and being patient (serious amount of patience with me, sorry guys) and giving a really out there story a chance. Special special thanks to those who reviewed consistently. They really helped. I love hearing what you guys have to say. I look forward to writing many more Office fics.



She traced her finger back and forth against the windowsill, her chin resting in her palm and her forehead barely touching the cold glass that lead to the exterior. She jumped slightly when her mom took a seat next to her.

Her mom gave her an apologetic smile and put a hand on her back comfortingly. "I didn't know you were awake."

Pam sighed and leaned back from the window, rubbing her hands together for warmth. "I just woke up a few minutes ago. I wanted to look outside. It looks like snow."

She turned her attention back to the window and cast her eyes upward, searching the gray sky for signs of falling flakes. Her mom watched her carefully, her kind eyes searching her daughter's face. She reached forward and tucked a piece of her curly hair behind her ear.

When Pam had showed up on her doorstep, Jim by her side protectively, tears had immediately sprung to her eyes. Her daughter looked horrible. She was thin, pale, and bruised. Pam was broken. And she had no idea.

Pam had walked up the stairs to her room without a word, leaving Jim in the hallway with her. Jim looked after Pam anxiously and then turned his attention back to her.

"Ms. Beesley-"

"What happened to my daughter?"

Jim had sighed and led her carefully to the table where he sat her down and explained everything to her, his own voice breaking when he came to the part about the abuse. She had been horrified, absolutely horrified, that all of this had been going on under her nose. That her daughter was being beaten by this horrible man. This man she had allowed into her home. This man she had mistakenly trusted with her daughter.

But she had also felt an overwhelming amount of thankfulness that Jim had been there to catch her. That Jim had kept her safe and gotten her out of there the second he knew. That Jim loved her daughter. She could never thank him enough for that.

And now her daughter was still broken, searching the skies for signs of little pieces of hope, falling freely from the sky.


Pam sighed at her mother's tone and pulled away, wrapping the comforter closer around her body.

"Mom." She stated as a warning.

"Pam." Her mother stated with just as much intensity. "We are talking about this. Now look at me. Now."

Pam opened her eyes and faced her mother, the anger turning into something else. Something weaker, sadder.

"Pam, I know you are hurting and you are scared but he can't hurt you anymore. He's gone now."

Pam looked away again as moisture filled her eyes. She clutched her blanket tightly with both of her small hands.

"He will never hurt you again. Ever. I will promise you that." She said with such ferocity that Pam actually looked up and met her mother's eyes.

A tear dropped from her eyes as she quietly whispered, "You promise?"

Her mother reached forward and wrapped her arms around her daughter. Pam clutched to her tightly.

"I promise."

She rubbed her back soothingly for a few minutes before pulling away and looking at her daughter again. "Now." She smiled slightly and wiped away her daughter's tears. "What about this Jim?"

Pam reluctantly smiled and looked down.



Jim cringed as Michael came waltzing out of his office and planted his body on the left side of his desk. He met his eyes hesitantly.

"What can I do for you Michael?"

He could feel Dwight's curious eyes from his desk. Michael gave a forceful chuckle and picked up a pencil from Jim's desk, twirling it between his fingers. "I was just wondering, when is Pam coming back?"

Jim reached forward, plucking the pencil out of Michael's grip and slamming it back in the holder. "I told you Michael, four times now, I don't know. She hasn't called me."

"Oh, she hasn't called you, eh?" Michael raised his eyebrows and made eye contact with the camera for a split second. "Trouble in paradise?"

The look Jim gave Michael was one of the utmost disgust and contempt. He narrowed his eyes. "What paradise?"

"Oh, don't play stupid Jimmy, we all know."

"All know what?"

Dwight leaned forward in his chair and smiled menacingly. "That you and Pam had an affair and that's why Roy punched you in the office and why she is staying with her mom."

Jim's jaw actually dropped. He realized he was blatantly staring with his jaw slack when he snapped himself out of it. He felt anger coursing through his body. He leaned forward in his chair.

"Dwight, me and Pam-"

"Are none of your business."

Jim turned his head so rapidly in his chair that he actually felt his neck crack in protest. There Pam was, standing, clutching a file of papers to her chest and holding her purse in her hand.

She looked at Jim for a moment before averting her eyes back to Dwight. "And who spread those rumors, Dwight?"

"They aren't rumors if they are true." He stated smugly, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his chest.

Pam smiled slightly. "Oh, so, you and Angela, that's not considered a rumor?"

Dwight's face reddened visibly and he averted his eyes. "I have work to do." He muttered quietly. Jim suppressed a chuckle as Michael hopped off his desk and walked towards Pam.


He reached forward and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. She winced slightly in pain as he came in contact with her many still healing bruises. Jim gave her a worried glance. She gave him a small smile.

"So glad you are back. Now, I have some files for you that you need to look at and some corporate e-mails that I just can't figure out. Oh, and I want to have another 80's party and the party crew just can't function without you. And there-"

Michael continued to rattle of instructions as Pam looked over his shoulder at Jim who was smiling softly at her. She put down the file on her desk and nodded towards the door, all the while Michael still talking.

Jim stood up and grabbed his coat, following her out to the parking lot, aware that Michael was continuing to talk to the space where Pam used to be standing.

They walked down the stairs in silence, with only the sounds of their feet coming in contact with the flooring to comfort them. Jim cast a sidelong glance at Pam and noticed that she was smiling, slightly.

Once in the parking lot, she turned to him. He smiled. "Hi."

She gave him a small smile back before it faded and she looked down at the ground, shuffling her feet. "I just wanted to tell you-"

She paused, taking another breath. He waited patiently. "I just wanted to say thanks. For, um, taking care of me."

She had met his eyes again and he noticed a blush creep up her cheeks. He was vaguely aware of the blush creeping up his own.

"You didn't have to do that." She whispered quietly.

"Yeah, I did."

"No." She shook her head. "No, you didn't. You didn't have to take me in your home and go driving all over the state to find me."

He reached forward and took her gloved hand in his bare one. He rubbed his thumb over the fabric softly. "No, Pam, I did. I couldn't let him-"

"Don't. I'm trying to forget."

"Pam, I don't think you are going to be able to forget about this." He stated softly. She moved her round eyes up to his.

"Don't say that. I have to believe this goes away. This pain has to go away. Soon, right?"

He smiled at her frantic eyes reassuringly. "Yeah, soon."

She smiled and gripped his hand tightly, leaning into his chest.


He was alone in his bed, just about to drift off to sleep when the door to his room creaked open slowly. He heard feet moving across the carpet and then felt weight next to him in bed.

He scooted over, making room.

"Is this alright?" He heard her voice in the dark, close to his ear.

He smiled, even though he knew she couldn't see it. "You know it is, Pam."

She slid under the covers and rearranged the pillow behind her head, lying down on her side, facing him. He mirrored her position.

"What's wrong?" He whispered quietly.

"Nothing." She replied.


He heard her sigh and turn onto her back. "It's been a month, Jim."

"Yeah, I know."

"And I can't move on. And you have been so patient with me. And nice and amazing and wonderful and-"

"Okay, stop."


"I love flattery as much as the next guy but that's a little much."

"But it's true."

"Pam-" He groaned.

"No, Jim. It isn't fair. You are so amazing and patient and I can't move on from this. I can't make it go away."

She slammed her fists down on the mattress and felt warm tears of frustration spring to her eyes. Jim sighed next to her and threw his arm over her waist gently. She turned in his arm.

"I'm sorry." She whispered quietly.

"Don't be sorry for things you can't control. I can wait, Pam." He whispered just as quietly.

"You shouldn't have to."

"Yeah, I should. I understand you need time."

"I just-"

"I know."

"I don't-"

"I know." He stated again. He heard her sigh and reach down for his hand, gripping it tightly in her own.

"You're getting better now." He whispered softly. She smiled and scooted closer in his arms, letting his comfort seep into her own body.


She was angry. And had a headache the size of a small state. The woman in front of her at the grocery store didn't seem to understand that the express line meant fast. Faster than usual. It meant you move at a speeded pace. Not price check every. Single. Item.

She slammed the car door shut and walked up the stairs to his, no, their apartment balancing a bag of groceries on her knee. She pushed through the door and called out for him, dropping the bags in the hallway, momentarily not caring.

He didn't answer and she moved forward, looking around the darkened house. Fear settled in her stomach as she went through the dark family room.


She walked into the kitchen and her heart stopped.

"Oh, Jim."

He was sitting at the table, dressed in a shirt and tie. The table itself was decorated with lighted candles and rose petals while all her favorite dishes were scattered around the top.

She put a hand to her mouth as he looked up and gave her a shy smile.

"I thought you could use a pick me up, you had a rough week."

She looked at the table and then moved her eyes back to him. And then she knew. She knew that he would never, ever hurt her in the way that Roy did. She knew that he couldn't ever hurt her in that way. It wasn't possible for him.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she looked back at the table. He stood up, the chair squeaking.

"Are you alright?"

She strode forward quickly and pulled down on his tie so that his face met her own. She kissed him so suddenly that he actually stumbled forward slightly. When she pulled away, he looked at her curiously.

She smiled. "I'm ready."

He looked at her carefully. "Are you sure? Because I don't want to rush you into something that you aren't ready for. I didn't make this dinner to-"

She cut him off with another kiss, letting her purse drop by her side. He responded by wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer to his body.

She pulled away again, catching her breath. "You didn't make this dinner to what?"

"Force you into bed with me."

"Oh?" She quirked an eyebrow and he smiled at her, ducking down his head and capturing her lips in his own again.

He began walking her backwards. She let out a giggle against his mouth as she stumbled against a chair leg. He caught her quickly, bracing her back with his hand.

She regained her composure and looked up at him, her eyes soft.



She put her hand on his cheek as he kissed her softly. His hand was tangled up in her hair as he started moving her backwards again.

Her shirt fell to the ground in the hallway.

His shirt was thrown over the lamp haphazardly.

Their bodies crashed against the mattress.

Her laugh was loud in the dark.

His hands were warm on her skin.

The groceries lay on the ground in the hallway, abandoned and forgotten.