Okay. So, this came to me in the car on my way to Jacksonville this weekend (yay speeding tickets!!!). I'd read a book summary called Alphabet Weekends a few weeks ago, thought it was an interesting idea. I picked the book up, couldn't stand it, but thought it might be cute to do with JAM. So, let me know what you think.

And to Katy, I actually am almost done studying for finals!! So I might post more this week!

She sat on the concrete steps leading up to his house, her hands wet from the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. Her bright pink pillow was resting on her shoulders, a new pillowcase on it, different from the one she'd drooled on last night. Her car, pulled up to the very edge of his driveway, held the rest of her suitcases in its trunk. She wiped her eyes against the pillowcase and buried her face in the pillow as the cool breeze that came with a May evening picked up.

It wasn't until he was standing over her that she felt his presence, and when she looked up, he'd already crouched down beside her and was patting her head lightly. "Hey." He said, and she nodded slightly, not wanting to acknowledge anything with words because she was afraid she'd have no words come out, only the quiet sobs of desperation.

"You want to come in?" he asked, and she nodded lightly, pulling herself up. She reached for her suitcase but noticed it was no longer sitting on the step but was now resting between his curled fingers as he brought it inside and set it in Mark's old room. "Are there more in your trunk?" he asked softly, and when she nodded, he took the keys from her hand and unloaded the last three suitcases, pulling them inside with a small grunt and setting them down with the others.

She followed him into the burnt orange colored room, the striped sheets on the bed reminding her of the bedspread that had been on his at his barbeque a few years ago. She'd been to his house plenty of times before—so many times that she could probably get there from anywhere in the world without a second thought—but she'd never been in Mark's room before. He opened the closet and the dresser drawers, turned on the lights for her, and said softly, "Make yourself at home. Come out when you're ready."

She stared at him for a minute, before taking a few small steps toward him, her arms outstretched, begging him to come toward her. When he finally did, she could hardly breathe as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug, holding her just the right amount of time so that she wasn't suffocated, but wasn't left wanting. "It'll be okay," he said softly, pulling away from her and heading out the door.

Quickly, she unpacked all of her belongings, throwing her clothes in random drawers and pushing the suitcases underneath the bed. She walked into the adjoining bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror, gasping at the red blotches and wanting to cry just at the thought that they existed. She quickly washed her face, splashing it with cold water before changing into her pajamas and wandering out into the living room.

Jim was standing in front of the stove, flipping two grilled cheese sandwiches when he heard the refrigerator door open next to him, and he turned to watch her pull some milk out of the refrigerator and pour herself a glass. He smiled as he watched her, flipping the sandwiches onto two plates and handing one to her. She smiled in response and walked over to his pantry, pulling out some potato chips.

"You're great at making yourself at home," he smiled, teasing her lightly. She grinned and put a potato chip in her mouth, her reply muffled by the pieces of chip rolling around inside and sticking to her teeth and tongue.

"Thank you for dinner." She said softly, the smile disappearing from her face as she ran her finger over the bread. "It looks great."

"You're welcome," he replied, taking a bite and chewing slowly.

"I bet you're wondering why I'm here," she asked.

"Not exactly," he said, taking another bite. "You know you're always welcome here… I'm more wondering why you brought suitcases with you."

"I left him," she replied, her eyes averting him. Even without seeing them, he knew that they were sad and downcast. She had a way of always wearing her heart in her eyes, and he loved that about her.

"Oh," he replied softly. "What, um, what happened?"

She took a big gulp of milk and swallowed hard, as if she'd never thought he'd ask her such a deep and personal question, even though she'd known full-well he would.

"I found something that wasn't mine under our bed," she replied slowly, and his fists clenched under the table at the meer suggestion that Roy had cheated on her. "And when I brought it up, his excuse was 'a man has to do what a man has to do'. No kidding."

Jim pursed his lips together to keep from saying anything completely unfounded, but air blew out against them, causing an annoyed sound to vibrate against his lips. She looked up at the sound and caught his face before continuing, "I swear, Jim. Men are just scum. Every last one of them. I don't know what it is about a penis, but my god they come with some bad genes."

"Hey now…" Jim said, softly, but slightly offended. "It just seems that way now because you were dating a scumbag. Not all guys are like that."

"Sure they are. Boys are stupid and gross and I don't like them." She said, clenching her teeth together as she fiddled with her potato chips.

"Not all of them. Come on, Pam, be fair… I know you're hurting, but not all men are like that."

"Yes they are," she replied matter-of-factly, taking another bite. "In fact, I think I might become a lesbian, get rid of them for good."

"Oh come on!" he said, exasperated.

She grinned back at him, her look obviously one that said "dare me to."

"I'll make you a deal," he said, thoughtfully, dropping his grilled cheese on his plate and bringing a finger to his chin.

"Oh?" she asked, a small smile forming on her lips.

"You can become a lesbian, but first, you have to give me the chance to prove to you that not all men are scumbags."

"Thank you for the permission," she replied, an edge to her voice, but her eyes were smiling. "How are you planning on proving to me that not all men are scumbags, Halpert?"

"I want 26 Saturdays from you," he said, as if this was no big deal at all.

"26." She stated, a look of incredulousness running across her face. "26 Saturdays is a heck of a long time to give you," she replied. "And even then, you'd need more time than that to convince me that not all men are scum."

"I just want 26," he replied.

"Why 26?" She asked, leaning in closer as if her curiosity itself couldn't be contained. "And why Saturdays?"

"I am going to take you on 26 different 'dates'," he said, putting air quotes around the word date. "One for every letter of the alphabet. If by letter Z you don't agree with me that only some men are scumbags, then I will let you go on your merry lesbian ways."

She eyed him mischievously, wondering if there was some sort of plan behind the stated plan. He stared back at her, never breaking eye contact, daring her to look away first. "Okay," she said, throwing her hands in the air. "When do we start?"

"Three days from now. Saturday."

"Okay, and what will we be doing for A day?" She asked, sighing.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that part. Every date is a surprise. A secret. A day could be anything." He grinned and she rolled her eyes, looking down at her plate and wondering why she'd agreed to give Jim Halpert the next 26 weekends of her life.

Review. Tell me if a) you liked this chapter. b) you think it should continue. c) if you do think it should continue, do you have any ideas. d) was it clear enough?