After a full day of pushups, a tour of the base, more pushups, and a “trust fall” that ended with Kevin sustaining a minor back injury, it was finally time for the first break the group was given since arriving: dinner.  The meal was held in the standard cafeteria where those others stationed ate.  Each employee slid their trays across the metal railing, inspecting their limited options.  Stanley gave a low grumble as what appeared to be some sort of casserole was plopped onto his plate by a severe looking woman in a white apron and hair net.  Angela was next in line and was about to receive the same meal before she interjected sharply.

“Excuse me, what exactly is this?”

“Casserole,” the woman replied with disdain.

“What kind of casserole?  I’m a vegetarian and I refuse to—“

“I’m sorry, you must be mistaking me for your momma, who might actually care.  Eat it or shut it, blondie.”  The woman was now narrowing her eyes at Angela, her spatula raised in the air like some sort of weapon.

Angela pursed her lips together and turned to walk away before Dwight suddenly appeared and placed a hand gently on her forearm.

“Good evening, Angela.  Won’t you be helping yourself to dinner?”

“No, Dwight.  I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” she sneered, eyeing the cafeteria lady out of the corner of her eye.

Dwight looked around before speaking in a low voice.  “Monkey, you need your strength.  I will not watch you be shown up by Phyllis.  We are the few, the proud…the not-so-many.  Please,” his eyes bore into her, silently pleading for her to acquiesce.  Angela remained expressionless, but after a few moments slowly turned back to the woman behind the counter who looked obnoxiously smug as she heaped a pile of the casserole onto her plate.

“Thank you,” Angela replied through her teeth and left the station in a huff, not bothering to look back at a pleased Dwight.  The woman cleared her throat, her eyes silently questioning where his tray and plate were.

Dwight scoffed.  “I don’t need it, thank you very much.”

That was not food.  That was gruel.  And I will not be sustained on gruel.  I planned ahead and brought the proper nutrients to keep myself nourished.  Vitamins, fruits, vegetables…deer jerky.  And prune juice.  Dwight shot a satisfied look at the camera.  To stay regular.

Jim scanned the dining hall, looking for the most strategic seating.  He could see Pam had secured herself in a corner chatting with Phyllis, smiling and laughing with a sincerity that had lately been absent.  The kick in his heart sent a smile to his lips before the sudden sense of a camera lurking not too far from him caused him to shake himself out of his reverie and back to the task of looking for a seat.  He spotted Karen sitting with Ryan and Kelly, and she broadened into a smile and gestured to the seat she had saved for him. He was moving toward her before he heard his name being shouted across the dining hall.

“Jim! Yo, Jimbo!  Number 2!  Official executive officers meeting stat!”  Jim groaned seeing Michael waving him over frantically to a small table in the very far corner of the room.   He gave an apologetic look to Karen and grudgingly made his way over to Michael’s table where Dwight was already plotting points on a crudely drawn map with a protractor.

“Alright, so here’s our plan of attack,” Michael leaned into the table, splaying out his hands in front of him for added effect.  “Now pay attention, this gets tricky.  We take the toilet paper,” he paused to hold the imaginary roll of toilet paper in his hand.  “And then throw it over the girls’ cabin,” he gave a small giggle as he mimed tossing the roll in a perfect arc.

“Brilliant,” Dwight murmured in awe.

“I’m sorry…what?” Jim furrowed his eyebrows, looking between Michael and Dwight in hopes of there existing a logical explanation for a plan involving toilet paper and the girls’ cabin.

“We’re going TPing,” Michael snickered, a snort escaping from his nose in his delight.

“Jim, we’ll be needing someone of your stature for those hard to reach places—“

“That’s what she said!” Michael proclaimed a little too loudly, causing everyone in the dining hall to turn around in annoyance.  Jim saw Pam give a teasing eye-roll at him, causing him to break out into a smile and look quickly back down at his food before she could see the red lightly tinting his cheeks.  Michael cleared his throat and spoke in a lower voice, something Jim didn’t realize he was capable of.

“So midnight.  Tonight.  Let’s synchronize our watches,” Michael said, squinting at his “Folex” and fiddling with the small winder.

TPing is great for male bonding.  You get to formulate a plan, execute that plan together, take out lots of aggression…at first I thought of just playing Tag but come on, what are we, kids?

A sharp whistle overhead indicated that dinner was over, and everyone ushered themselves outside toward the respective men’s and women’s cabins.  Jim was walking with Karen when he felt Pam brush up next to him.

“What was the secret meeting all about?”

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information.  It’s classified,” Jim said with mock seriousness.

“You’re no fun,” Pam grinned before speeding ahead to catch up with Kelly.

Jim’s eyes trailed after her before realizing that a pair of eyes was boring into him at his side.  He turned to look at Karen, who had her eyebrows raised in suspicion.  Jim mustered a smile and slipped an arm around her waist, walking in that fashion till they parted for their cabins.

I’ve never really been that competitive.  But…Karen trailed off, looking past the camera crew, brows slightly furrowed in concentration.  There’s a first time for everything.

Pam settled into her top bunk, careful not to disturb a sleeping Angela below her.  Though she was physically exhausted, Pam’s mind was busy with projecting a slideshow of the day’s events in front of her, mainly those that included playful banter or shared smiles with Jim.  She was treading in dangerous territory and knew that if it kept up, someone was bound to be hurt.  Still, the warm familiarity of his laughter over the course of the day was enough to drive her to be at her very best for the duration of basic training.

She heard Karen quietly come back from the bathroom adjacent to their barracks, making her way up to her top bunk that was placed right next to Pam’s.  Karen let out a large sigh as she plopped herself on top of the covers, the humid air being enough of a thick blanket to keep them from becoming too comfortable.

“Longest. Day. Ever,” she whispered.

“Tell me about it,” Pam said, her hand rubbing across her forehead in attempt to ease the throbbing that her fatigue had produced.  “And just think, we have another two days of this.”

“Not to mention Michael’s increasing body odor.  Jim was telling me that he heard him say that he refused to shower in order to get the full experience, whatever that means.”

Pam flinched a bit at the sound of Jim’s name, that knot of jealousy she had come to know all to well settling in her stomach.  “Hmm,” was all she said, as she knew it was the safest response to give without revealing how much she wished Karen would roll right off the top bunk.  Pam began to scold herself for thinking such thoughts, but then again, Fancy New Beesly thought about a lot of things lately that she probably shouldn’t.  Like dropping everything and moving to California.  Or signing up for Match.com.  Or Jim in uniform.

“And this heat doesn’t help any,” Karen continued.  “It’s going to be terrible when we move to New York next month.”

Pam’s eyes shot open and she felt her stomach jump up to her throat.  We.  Move.  New York.

“Umm, New York?”  was all she managed to get out, still trying to sound as casual as possible.

Karen turned over on her side and propped herself up on her elbow.  “You mean Jim didn’t tell you?  There’s a big marketing firm over there that’s looking people with sales experience.  Jim scheduled an interview, and you know how he is, everybody just falls in love with him the minute he introduces himself.”  Pam remained on her back, nodding her head slowly as her brain still tried to process the new information.  The sound of footsteps outside their cabin stopped Pam’s thoughts, and the two women exchanged a look of worry.

“What is that?” Karen hissed.

Pam shook her head in confusion, slowly climbing down off of her bunk, Karen following shortly behind. They looked around for something to attack the potential intruder with, settling on a sharp stiletto protruding from Kelly’s Louis Vuitton bag.

The footsteps grew louder as they approached, and in an instinct left over from childhood, Pam clutched Karen’s hand in fear, the stiletto raised high in the other.  Karen looked to Pam as they came to the door, and she gave a small nod as a signal to open it.  Karen winced and threw the door open to reveal Jim, clad only in a t-shirt and boxers.  His eyes went wide at the sight of them, obviously not expecting to find the two of them in pajamas, looking terrified and armed with a shoe.  Both women let out a sigh of relief, putting a hand to their rapidly beating hearts.

“Uhh, hey,” Jim said, an innocent grin spreading across his face.

Karen grabbed the shoe out of Pam’s hand and hit him on the arm.  “Jim Halpert, don’t you ever scare us like that again.  What the hell are you doing here?”

“I thought it was only fair to warn you that Michael and Dwight are planning on TPing your cabin in about 20 minutes.  So if you can tear yourselves away from painting nails and pillow fights in your underwear…” he smirked, gesturing to the small bits of material that passed for Karen’s sleeping attire.  Pam refused to make eye contact with him, partly out of embarrassment for her own short nightgown and partly out of knowing that there would surely be anger and betrayal radiating from her eyes at the thought of him moving to New York.

“Beesly, you with us?”  His voice brought her back to the present, and she hesitantly looked up at him.  

“Yeah, I’m here.  Thanks for the warning.”  She turned on her heels and moved back into the cabin, leaning against her bed frame as she struggled to regain composure.  Pam heard the door close and was suddenly blinded by the fluorescent lights overhead flickering on.  Groans came from all corners of the cabin as the women stirred awake.

“Okay ladies,” Karen clapped her hands.  “Here’s the deal:  The guys are going to try and TP our cabin tonight, we have to be ready to attack.”

“Attack with what?”  Phyllis asked, rummaging for her glasses in her purse.

“Oh my God, I brought shaving gel!  Will that work?”  Kelly squealed.

“Perfect,” Karen nodded in approval.  “Anyone else have anything?”

“I have an idea,” Angela growled from her bunk, sitting up in exasperation.  “How about we put an end to this childish behavior and go back to bed?”

“Come on, Angela” Pam insisted.  “You wouldn’t want Michael and Dwight to ruin our cabin, would you?”  She stressed Dwight’s name and raised her eyebrows knowingly.  Angela’s stern expression shifted ever so slightly into what Pam assumed was the closest thing to excitement that Angela ever got.  “Very well,” she said reluctantly.  She reached into her suitcase and pulled out a large bottle.  “Is holy water okay?”

Pam and Karen turned to each other with looks of amusement and confusion, before grinning at Angela. 

 “Excellent.”

xxx

Michael crouched behind a shrub of bushes next to Dwight who was peering through binoculars at the ladies’ cabin.

“Can you see anything?” Michael asked in a hushed voice.

“Everything appears to be normal…too normal,” Dwight growled.  “Hold on, I see something moving!”

“What is it?” Michael squinted, his voice becoming more and more high pitched.

“False alarm.  Just a squirrel.  Want me to dispose of it?  I have a slingshot.”

“Dwight—just,” Michael let out a frustrated groan.  “Give me those.”

Dwight reluctantly handed over the binoculars, silently sulking with his arms folded.

“Okay, now wait a minute.  Something’s coming, it’s getting closer!”  Michael toppled over bringing Dwight down with him as the shadowy figure moved completely into his line of vision.  In the darkness, Michael could see a hand being extended.

“You okay?”  Jim asked, trying to mask his amusement.

Michael took Jim’s hand and brought himself to his feet, dusting off his uniform.

“Fine, just trying to see if we’re all clear.  And where were you?  You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”

“Sorry, got a little umm…sidetracked,” Jim stammered, as thoughts of Pam’s sleepwear drifted through his mind.

“That is no excuse for tardiness, Jim.  I think as punishment you should be demoted,” Dwight began, a look of smugness spreading quickly across his face.

“He’s not being demoted, Dwight.  Just, please, stay focused.  Everyone grab a bag,” Michael instructed, gesturing behind him to the three large trash bags filled with toilet paper.  Once armed, the three men crept slowly over to the women’s cabin.

“On my signal,” Michael whispered.

“What was that?”  Jim spoke in his normal register.

Dwight and Michael shot him furious looks, bringing a finger to their lips.

“He said ‘on his signal,’” Dwight whispered slowly, as if talking to a child.

“Whose signal?”  Jim raised his voice a little louder, his eyes drifting over to the window, where he could see two pairs of eyes peeking over the windowsill.

Finally fed up and losing track of the task at hand, Michael shouted “Mine!”

Just then the door to the cabin swung open, revealing all the women poised and ready with their various ammunition.

“Go!” Karen shouted.  At her command, streams of shaving gel, balls of socks, and other makeshift weapons were thrown at full force toward the men.  

Michael squealed as he was doused with a bucket of water by Phyllis, and began to sputter in shock.

“ABORT! ABORT!” he cried, as Phyllis, with a look of delight on her face continued to chase after him with a soap-filled loufa sponge.

Pam was armed with balls of socks, heavily soaked in water and spotted Dwight fending off a shaving-gel armed Meredith and Kelly.  Pam threw the socks with everything she had, but right as one was about to strike her target, Dwight lunged out of the way, leaving Jim fully open to accept the blow.  She let out a mix between a gasp and a laugh as he was hit squarely on the cheek.  His face twisted in surprise as he looked around for his attacker.  When he spotted Pam looking both guilty and pleased, he broke out into a sly grin.

“Oh Beesly, you are so dead!”  And with that he raced towards her, causing her to scream and drop the rest of her ammo as she rounded to the back of the cabin.  It didn’t take long for him to catch up with her, and he reached out to tug on the fabric of the nightgown, only to grab too hard and cause them both to go toppling down onto the ground.  Pam let out a cry as he landed on top of her, struggling to breathe in between their fits of laughter.

“Let me go!” she squealed playfully, her smile betraying any notion that she was in pain.

“After you attacked me?  I’m afraid not,” Jim said, laughing as he pinned her wrists to the muddy ground.

“It was an accident, I swear!”  Pam’s growing laughter made it increasingly difficult for her to catch her breath, but she could make no complaints about the wrestling partner she had unexpectedly found.

Their laughter died down in the midst of their heavy breathing, and the eye contact between them was fiercer and stronger than ever, holding both mischief and delight.  Neither said a word till the blaring sound of a whistle broke them from their trance.  A beam of light flashed into their eyes, and they quickly removed themselves from their compromising position, squinting to see the source of the light.  As it inched closer, a tired and extremely angry Sergeant Miller appeared in view.

“What in the name of Rachel Ray is going on here?” he bellowed.  The rest of the group appeared, all looking guilty as they cowered behind a terrified Michael.

“Sir,” he began quietly.  “This is what we call in the paper biz ‘bonding.’  We were just—“

“Oh I know what you were just doing.  You were just destroying my base, that’s what you were just doing!” Sergeant Miller roared in Michael’s face, and with trembling lips, it looked as though Michael might cry.

“You and I are going to step into my office and have a little chat,” the sergeant sneered to Michael.  “The rest of you,” he addressed the rest of the group, all staring down at the ground.  “Get some sleep.  Because I can assure you, after your little escapade tonight, tomorrow will be a very, very, very long day.”  He took one last menacing look at the employees before grabbing Michael by the sleeve of his shirt and dragging him off toward the main offices.

The remainder of the group slowly began to look up at one another, small smiles exchanged from one person to the next.  They surely were in for it tomorrow, but the fun they had had that night would give them enough memories to get them through whatever Sergeant Miller planned to throw at them.  They all began to move towards their cabins, Kelly and Meredith giving each other a small but triumphant high-five and Angela and Dwight sharing a knowing look.  Karen lingered behind, smiling weakly as everyone walked by.  Pam and Jim continued to brush themselves off, refusing to look at each other.  It was yet another moment Karen had witnessed, and it was getting increasingly harder to ignore the nagging feeling at the pit of her stomach each time she saw them together.  Jim finally moved towards her, giving her a sheepish smile and a kiss on the cheek before jogging ahead to catch up with the rest of the group.  Pam waited till he was out of sight before she approached Karen.

“Look, I’m really sorry, nothing—“

“Don’t,” Karen held up a hand.  “Don’t worry about it.”  The two women exchanged awkward smiles before retreating back into the cabin.

Neither one would get much sleep that night.

xxx

How did our attack go?  Jim displayed the balled up pair of socks he had managed to intercept to the camera, sighing with contentment.  Better than I could have expected.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

It was still dark when a trumpet sounded around the base, alerting everyone to the early morning wake-up call. The Dunder-Mifflin troops grumbled as they forced their eyes open to the black that still surrounded them.

“Okay campers,” Michael said in between a large yawn. “Time to get up. Ryan, how ‘bout you go get started on some coffee.”

“I make it a rule not to get up before—oh jeeze,” Ryan averted his eyes in disgust. “Could you maybe talk to me after you have pants on?”

The rest of the men’s cabin groaned at the sight of Michael wearing only his hat and a pair of briefs.

“What? Come on, if the goods are going to be cooped up all day, gotta give them some time to breathe in the morning. Sheesh,” Michael rolled his eyes.

It’s hard being the mature one all the time. I mean, as the boss, I have to be. But you know, sometimes—sometimes it would just be nice to see some others step up. And show the same kind of maturity that I do. Is that really so hard? A playful snicker and a snort escaping from his nose interrupted Michael’s serious expression.

That’s what she said.

xxx

The group stood at attention in a single file line outside their cabins, Sergeant Miller pacing in front of them, inspecting each person with a look of contempt.

“Never in my career have I seen such despicable behavior than last night. You are here to become responsible, respectable, strong individuals. And you proved to me last night than you are not any of those things. So,” he said pulling a brown paper bag from behind his back. “Today you will clean up the mess you made using these and only these.”

He passed around the bag and each person’s jaw dropped when they saw the tools they would be using.

“A toothbrush?” Kevin asked.

“No, a squeegee. Yes, a toothbrush! You will scrub every inch of your cabins with this and at the end of the day I will be making a very thorough inspection of them. You all would be wise to make sure they look better than when you first got here. Now move!” And with a blow of his whistle, Sergeant Miller dismissed everyone to begin working on their deep cleaning. Jim and Pam began to move before the sergeant stepped in front of them.

“Uh-uh. You two, come with me.”
Jim and Pam exchanged confused looks as they obediently followed the sergeant into his office.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the two leather chairs facing his desk. The two sat hesitantly, looking incredibly nervous as they racked their brains for what they might have done to cause this meeting.

“I’ll get right to the point: I understand that you two are young, in love, and in that ‘can’t keep my hands off of you’ phase of your relationship, but on my base, you keep your hands to yourself. Now I don’t know what you two were planning on doing last night behind the cabin—“

“No!” Pam yelled a little too loudly, holding a hand out in front of her to silence Sergeant Miller. “No, sir, I don’t know what…I mean, we’re not…nothing is going on. Between us. Me and Jim. No.” Pam’s face was a deep shade of red and she literally bit her tongue to keep herself from rambling. She refused to look at Jim, but could see his hands nervously drumming on his legs.

“Yeah, sir, last night…she attacked me with socks. So I was just chasing her, and we fell and…it was just socks.” Jim wasn’t being much more articulate than Pam and he too quieted himself from saying anything further.

Sergeant Miller looked between the two with one suspicious eyebrow raised. He scoffed and shook his head.

“Well, regardless, save the ‘sock attacks’ for when you guys go back home...finally,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face in exasperation. The three sat there in silence for a while, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. Finally, Sergeant Miller dismissed them to their cleaning duties, and both Jim and Pam darted from their seats, eager to leave the office as quickly as possible.

Though the distance from the main headquarters to the cabins was fairly short, the tension between the two made it seem miles away. Neither said anything for a few moments, before Jim, uneasy in the silence, finally spoke.

“This is all your fault.”

Pam let out a surprised laugh. “Excuse me?”

Jim shrugged. “You were the one who attacked me.”

“You were the one that pinned me to the ground.”

“It’s called ‘retaliation.’ I can’t help it that you’re no match for my wrestling skills.” He smiled and at her, and just as Pam’s heart began to flutter, it sunk at the thought of that smile moving to New York.
“Right…wrestling skills. You should see if New York has a professional team or something.” She quickened her pace, knowing that she opened up a whole conversation she wasn’t sure she was ready to have.

“What was that?” Jim jogged up next to her, his face fraught with confusion.

“You know, when you move there. Congratulations on that, by the way,” Pam said, with a voice that was much more bitter than she intended.

“Pam!” he called out as she ran ahead of him to begin work on the trashed cabin. He spotted Karen, scrubbing around the doorframe with her assigned toothbrush and her eyes watching Pam run into the cabin, then looking back at Jim. Her expression held some guilt that was dwarfed by the look of satisfaction radiating from her wide eyes and tight smile.

xxx

“I didn’t think they actually did this.”

Jim continued to scrub the floor, ignoring her words.

“I thought that was just in ‘Forrest Gump’ or something,” Karen laughed, attempting to make him crack a smile. It wasn’t working.

“I suppose we could talk about shrimp to pass the time…”

He began scrubbing with more vigor, taking his anger with her out on the now-frayed toothbrush.

“Come on, are you seriously ignoring me right now? What the hell did I do wrong?” Karen sat on the back of her legs, throwing down her cleaning tool in annoyance.

“You had no right to say that I took that job. I had one interview, Karen, that’s it. And I already told you I wasn’t sure I wanted to take it.” He had thrown down his toothbrush as well, standing up in order to pace while he talked.

“Yeah, but I figured it was just you being you. You’re stubborn and don’t want to do something unless you think it’s your idea. I know once you convince yourself that you thought of the job—“

“No, that’s not…that’s not how I am, okay? Don’t act like you have me figured out,” Jim snapped and by the stunned expression on Karen’s face, he knew he had hit a nerve.

Karen scoffed and shook her head. “That’s right, I keep forgetting…there’s only one person who seems to have done that.”

Jim opened his mouth to protest but Karen quickly interjected.

“Tell me something: what is it your angrier about? The fact that I lied or the fact that I lied to her?”

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

You know how the military has that saying: “Don’t ask, don’t tell?” Oscar rubbed his lips together tightly in frustration.  I really wish someone would just ask me, so I could get the hell out of here.

I’m tired.  I’m sweaty.  I have four broken nails and there is dirt in my hair.  Kelly looked as though she might cry.  Dirt.

I remember when I first started at the temp agency, my supervisor told me ‘Ryan, you’re going to do great things in the world of business.’  Ryan shook his head miserably.  Sergeant Miller told me today that I was a ‘miserable maggot who couldn’t sell water to a thirsty man’ so…” he trailed off.  We’ll see who turns out to be right.

Stanley just stared at the camera like an angry bear that was denied hibernation.

The Bible says to ‘Love thy neighbor.’  Angela’s eyes narrowed.  Michael was not God’s neighbor when that rule was implemented.

Pam put a hand to her mouth as she yawned.  Sorry, I’m just really tired.  I haven’t been, uh, sleeping well.  The days are really long and early wake up calls and…a lot of stuff on my mind so, yeah.  I really want to go home.

Best vacation of my life.  Creed stated proudly.

There’s nothing really about this training that is ‘basic’ except that basically, it was a disaster.   Jim cast a disappointed look to the camera.  In…every way possible.

Overall, yes, I do think it’s going well, except…Michael frowned and then continued in a hushed tone.  They’re all kind of making me look bad.  Here I am, showing all of my great leadership skills and they’re just unable to be led!  It’s embarrassing, really.

xxx

It was the last night of basic training and thoroughly exhausted from the emotional and physical wear and tear of the weekend, the employees settled into bed early.  All except for Jim and Pam, as it was their turn for cafeteria clean-up duty.  They planted themselves at the sinks in the back of the kitchen, adorned in aprons and rubber gloves with Jim washing dishes and Pam drying.  It was now an hour into their shift and there had been virtually no talking, driving Jim slowly into madness.

“You’re working that apron, Beesley,” he attempted to sound light and casual.  Her response was merely a weak smile, her eyes never leaving the dish in front of her.

Jim, never being one to give up easily, persisted.  “I think you could start a new trend.  Receptionists all over the world sporting aprons; Paris, Milan, Tokyo, New York—“ He stopped mid-sentence and winced.  It had flown out of his mouth before he could stop it and by the look on her face, he knew he had it coming.
“Ha, right, New York.  Just promise you’ll come to the fashion show when it’s there and say hi, if you’re not too busy with work or anything.”  Pam had given up on even attempting to be civil, too hurt to bother.  He obviously didn’t care about her feelings and she didn’t feel a particular need to care about his.

Jim threw down his sponge into the soapy sink and firmly grabbed her by the shoulders and turned him towards her, the plate in her hands crashing to the floor.

“I don’t know what Karen said to you, but I guarantee you it’s not true.”

“So you didn’t have an interview in New York?”  she challenged.

“Yes, I did.  But I have in no way taken the job, and frankly, don’t have any intentions on taking it.  It’s a totally impersonal place, not much better pay, the boss is a complete psycho—“ he paused and gave a small smile and even Pam relented with one of her own.  “Plus it’s just too far.  From family, friends…everything that I care about.”  His grip on her had become softer, along with the way in which he now looked at her and it made Pam uneasy to see something so familiar behind those eyes.  That sense of something much bigger layered in his words that she had at one time always ignored.  But now, she had no reason to.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to be so…just the thought of you leaving again,” she shook her head, eyes cast downward to the broken shards of ceramic at their feet.  She felt a finger touch her chin, gently lifting it upward so she could see him, his expression much more gentle accompanied with a crooked grin.

“Hate to break it to you, but it takes a lot more than Michael’s poor excuse for boot camp to get rid of me.  So looks like you’re stuck with me for a while longer,”  Jim made a face and shrugged. 

Pam’s smile broadened.  “There are worse things, I guess.”

With the tension between them finally gone, the rest of clean up went much more quickly as they laughed at the debacle the trip had turned into.  At one point an audible noise sounded from Jim’s stomach.

“Whoa,” Pam’s eyes widened and she let out a giggle.  “Hungry?”

“I don’t see how I could be after that delicious serving of mush at dinner.”  He hopped off the kitchen counter and moved toward the large steel fridge.

Pam smirked and lifted herself up to the spot he had just vacated.  “Looking for more mush?”

Jim kept rummaging through the various packages of unidentifiable meat.  “I thought I saw…Aha!”  He produced two wrapped popsicles triumphantly.
“What?  How did you find those?”  Pam squealed, leaping off the counter to examine the dessert more closely, as if she were afraid they wouldn’t be real.

“I was almost sure I saw one of the servers eating one of these earlier.  Grape or raspberry?”  he held the two out to her.

“Oh like you even have to ask,” Pam winked and grabbed the raspberry popsicle, ripping the plastic wrapper off biting a piece of the flavored ice.  She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment.

“Wow, do I need to leave you two alone?”  Jim teased, taking his own bite of the refreshing treat.

They ate quickly, the heat of the kitchen causing the popsicles to melt and leak sticky sugar all over their hands.  The licked the last remnant off of the wooden sticks and threw them into the trashcan.

“What color is my tongue?”  Pam suddenly asked, thrusting it out of her mouth.

“Well, Pam, it appears to be red…much like the color of a normal tongue.”

She shot a mock glare at him.  “Let me see yours.”

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“That’s not a good enough reason.”

“I want to see if it’s purple!”

“I’ve been sucking on a grape popsicle for the last fifteen minutes.  Trust me, it’s purple.”

“Jim!” Pam whined, laughing at their childish argument.

“So demanding,” Jim rolled his eyes before surrendering and sticking out his tongue.  Suddenly Pam’s face knitted in concern.

“Jim, are there supposed to be those white splotches on there?”

“What?”  Jim looked around in alarm for something to look into, finally grabbing a spoon and searching frantically for the white splotches.  Then reality settled in and he looked at a grinning Pam.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to see you do that,” she giggled.

“That’s like the second time you’ve messed with me since we’ve been here, Beesley, I’m not sure I appreciate it.”

Pam let a few more laughs escape before becoming quiet. 

“I’m glad you’re not moving.”

“Me too,” Jim said in a low voice.

“How does…I mean, is Karen okay about it?”

“Probably not.  The thing is,” Jim shoved his hands in his pockets and Pam turned her body toward him, eager to listen.  “I don’t think she wanted me to get it so that I’d be happier.  She wanted me to get it so that she’d be happier.  Living vicariously through me, or embarrassed to have a paper salesman as a boyfriend.”  He shrugged and Pam’s heart broke just enough for her to gently take his hand.  The gesture caused him to look up at her.

“You’re a lot more than a paper salesman, Jim.  You’re a lot more than a marketer, too.  If she can’t see that…” Pam stopped and let a small smile finish her thought. 

Jim gave her hand a squeeze and then jerked his head toward the door.

“Let’s get out of here.  The sooner we’re asleep, the sooner morning comes and we are officially done.  And things go right back to normal.”

Pam smirked.  “Right.  Normal.”
 

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

The group stood at attention for the last time, the scorching midday heat putting the “sun” in Sunday.  Sergeant Miller took his time, making slow and deliberate steps in front of the line of weary workers, crunching his boots on the dry dirt.

“In a few moments, you all will step back on the bus in which you came, and leave.  You will go back to whatever circle of hell you came from and never, ever step foot on my base ever again.  The only way any of you should ever serve this country is if there is a draft and you are forced against your will to join, and even then, I hope within each of you lies a heart murmur, or asthma, or the sense to jump off the top of your roof and obtain flat feet.  This has been, by far, the worst weekend of my life and not a second after you are gone, I’m taking my much-deserved leave, going back to New Jersey and gorging myself on Chef Dave’s Grilled Strawberry and Goat Cheese Dessert Pizza.  May our paths never cross and may each of you never move above your safe and secure place in the land of mediocrity.”

He scanned the bewildered faces in front of him with a sneer, his gaze finally resting on Michael.  Nervous and unsure of the appropriate protocol, Michael began a slow clap.

“Wooo…alright, good pep talk!  Yeah!  Let’s hear it for the Sarge!  Woo—hey!”  Michael rubbed the spot on his calf that had been kicked by a stoic Jim standing next to him.

Sergeant Miller rolled his eyes.  “Dismissed,” he muttered and with a final blow of his whistle, the group scrambled to the charter bus waiting behind them.  All except Dwight and Michael, who lingered behind to bestow final farewells upon the exasperated sergeant.

“Sir, question, sir:  is there a gift shop?  I have a collection of commemorative spoons from every historical fort that I visit and I need—“

“What you need, son, is to leave.  Now,”  Sergeant Miller said pinching the bridge of his nose, not even bothering to look at the now sullen Dwight.  He gave one last salute before marching back to the bus.

I would think that a man with respect for good cuisine would appreciate the need for appropriate flatware.  Not that I would ever eat off of the spoons as they are collector’s items.  Though they do fit quite well in the ear canal. My ears do not clean themselves therefore I must do it myself.  Dwight beamed at the camera, proud of his unique solution.  Saves me a fortune on ear syringes.

“Well, sir, it looks like this is where our journey ends,” Michael extended a hand and the sergeant grudgingly shook it.  “We kindly thank you for your southern hospitality—“

“My what?”

“—and hey, if you ever want to bring your troops around to Dunder Mifflin, we’d be glad to show you a thing or two about the paper marketplace.  It is a jun-gle, let me tell you.  Oh and by the way,” Michael gently pushed his finger against the lapel of the sergeant’s uniform.  “What’s your favorite kind of food?”

Sergeant Miller eyed him with caution.  “Italian. Why?”

Michael shrugged.  “No reason.  Anyway, thanks again, and hooah!”  He pumped his fist in the air and jogged over to the bus. 

The sergeant let out a sigh of relief, giving one last look at the bus before retreating back into his office to begin the large amount of paperwork he would need to fill out in order to take leave.  It was tedious, but would be well worth it.

Jim loaded his duffel bag in the storage area below the bus and felt a tap on his shoulder.  He turned to find Karen, looking much softer than the last time he had seen her.

“Hey,” she said with a conciliatory smile.  “Listen, I just thought you should know…I’m going to go for that job in New York.”

Jim raised his eyebrows in surprise.  He had imagined what his next conversation with Karen would be, and none of those situations involved this news.

“Oh.  Well, that’s—“

“You can come with me,” Karen interjected, her eyes quietly pleading.  Jim cocked his head to the side, his mouth knit tightly in a sideways frown.

“I can’t,” he said softly, taken aback with the memories and emotional weight his words carried; it was just as hard to say as it was to hear.

Karen nodded.  “I had a feeling you’d say that.  Well, if you are going to stay here, would you do me and the rest of the world a favor?”

Jim furrowed his eyebrows.

“Go after her.  Please.  It’s tiring just watching you two.”

Once again, Jim was internally knocked over in surprise, even more so at the small smile that accompanied her words.

“Umm…okay,” he laughed.  “Will do.”

Karen gave him a light kiss on the cheek, throwing in her suitcase along with the others and climbing onto the bus.  Jim followed shortly after her, watching her take a seat next to Angela.  He spotted Pam in the back, sitting alone and scrolling through her mp3 player.  He made his way toward her, smirking to himself as he heard Karen explain her seating choice to Angela as he passed by: “You know, I’m thinking of getting a cat.  What brand do you recommend?”

Jim plopped down in the seat next to Pam, catching her off-guard.

“Hi,” she said with confusion.  “Why aren’t you—“

“It’s a long story, we’ve got a long bus ride…is that okay?”

She nodded with excitement.  “Absolutely.”

“I thought so.  Now, question,” he began.

Pam giggled. “Yes, Dwight?”

“We’ll table that comment for the time being.  Now, what are you doing when we get back to Scranton?”

“Let’s see:  go home, burn this uniform, open a bottle of wine and forget this weekend ever happened.”

Jim smirked.  “Well, as nice as that sounds, I thought maybe we could do something.”

Her jaw dropped a little, and though she tried to remain cool, Pam couldn’t help the grin that quickly spread to her face.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” Jim shrugged.  “Maybe something to take our mind off of the heat…like popsicles?” 

Pam held his gaze. 

“Raspberry?”

“Of course.”

“Can I get two?”

“Now you’re just being greedy.”

“Please?”

“Anything you want.”

The drive home suddenly didn’t seem quite so long.

xxx

A week later, Sergeant Miller received a package, addressed from Scranton, PA.  He curiously tore open the plain brown box to reveal Mario Batali’s “Molto Italiano: 327 Simple Italian Recipes to Cook at Home.”  He turned it over in delight, and noticed a card tucked within the front flap.  It was a picture of the entire Dunder Mifflin team, gathered in the office and looking utterly miserable except for Michael, grinning with a  silver whistle in between his teeth.  The card contained a simple message:

“We are not retreating, we are advancing in another direction.”
   
Love, Cordially, Hooah! Sincerely,
        General Scott and the 1st Dunder Mifflin Army Regiment.