Five Nice Things Toby's Received From His Coworkers
by Steph

Summary: Everyone needs to have a good day every once in awhile. Sometimes it's the little things that get you through the day.

I'm sure it's pretty obvious by now that I love writing Toby. And that I tend to take certain themes and ideas from previous fics of mine and reuse them.

Versions of two of the chapters - A Compliment and A Pep Talk - were my (at the time unrelated) entries in a fic-a-thon, so it might be familiar.

Spoilers: Well, this goes from Season Two to where we are in Season Four and beyond and includes one of the new scenes from Dunder Mifflin Infinity that was recently shown.

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.


---

Kelly asked him if he would drive her home after the Dundies. She wasn't drunk - not like Pam and wasn't that crazy how drunk Pam was? - but she had had a little to drink and she just wanted to be safe. And she knew that Angela was the official designated driver, but she didn't like it when Angela got all judgmental and made comments about her drinking too much. Oh and sometimes Angela said she dressed like a whore. Which wasn't very nice. And maybe she could deal with that if it were just the two of them in the car, but Angela was also taking Pam home and she was really afraid Pam would puke everywhere. So did he mind driving her home?

"No, it's fine," Toby said, once she had taken a breath.

"Thank you," she said. "You're awesome."

When they were in the car, she started telling him about how stupid tonight was, but the fajitas were really good. Which led her to talk about some new restaurants she had read about and she really wished she had a boyfriend who would take her to cool places.

And did he think she would ever find a guy like that?

He nodded, looking distracted. She frowned, "You're so not listening to me."

"Sorry," he said. "Got a lot on my mind. My work is never done."

"What? Someone made a complaint tonight?"

"Yeah," he said. He sounded tired. "It never stops."

She leaned forward to change his radio station to something actually listen-able. "Does it make you sad that you never get any awards?"

"No," he said, changing the radio station back. "I know it's Michael's show. And I know that if Michael ever did give me an award it would be for something like 'Creepiest' or 'Ugliest' and I really don't need that inscribed on a trophy."

She looked out the window before looking back at him. "If you had a choice, what award would you give yourself?"

"Well," he said, quite seriously, "I think it goes without saying that I should have received the 'Spicy Curry' award."

She giggled and swatted his arm. "You want it that badly you can have it. It's just a stupid bowler."

"It's okay. But thanks. I'm just there to collect complaints."

"I guess it could have been worse," Kelly said. "You could have gotten the award Kevin got. Gross. And in front of Stacy too. That sucks."

"Yeah, that's not really something you want on a trophy either."

"Well, if I was running the awards I would have given you one."

He looked away from the road for a second to smile slightly at her. "Thanks Kelly."

"You're welcome." She changed the radio station again, because Toby's taste in music was terrible "I would have been so embarrassed if I had brought a guy to this." She paused. "If I had a guy to bring to this."

He changed the radio station back. She continued talking just so she wouldn't be able to hear the crappy music. "It's been soooo long, Toby. Seriously. It's so hard to meet guys these days. I feel like all I do is work. I need to get out more. Or maybe I should just date someone from work."

"That's really not recommended."

"But that's only if one of the people is crazy or something. If you're both normal it's fine. It could even be really romantic. Did you know that Dwight has a huge crush on me?"

"No, but--"

"I wouldn't date him though. He's too weird. Who else is there? Jim's hot."

"Not hottest in the office though."

"Well of course you wouldn't think he..." Then she laughed. "Oh! You mean Ryan's award. How creepy is that?"

"I shouldn't have joked about that," Toby said quickly, turning on her street. "That wasn't appropriate."

"Michael's the one who was totally inappropriate, but I'll pretend you didn't say it if you want. Even though it was funny." She mimed zipping her lips. Then she paused, considering. "I agree with him though. Ryan is really hot. And he's probably more fun than Jim. I would totally go out with Ryan. Do you think he'd go out with me?"

"I don't know," he said. He parked the car. "And I should probably say again that it isn't a good idea."

"Toby," she said, sounding annoyed. "I told you we wouldn't be crazy about it." She unbuckled her seat belt. "Walk me up? This is a crap neighborhood and there was some chick here who totally got mugged or something."

"Sure."

While they walked, she started thinking about Ryan. He was really cute. Pretty eyes. Smart too, she'd bet.

Toby was a genius for suggesting him for her.

In front of her house, she smiled at him. It was sweet of him to walk her up. And give her a ride. Without once calling her a whore.

She should say something nice to him. To show her appreciation.

"You know if you didn't have a kid, I'd totally consider dating you. You're cute for an older guy."

He looked like he didn't know how to respond. "Umm..."

She kissed his cheek. "Thank you for walking me." She thought about it for a second and handed him her Dundie. "Here you go, Mr. Spicy Curry. It's all yours."

He looked at the bowler for a few seconds, before finally smiling. "You sure?"

"Definitely."

"Thanks," he said. "See you later."

"See you," she said, and closed the door.

It made her feel good to give Toby the award. She knew she'd just get another equally stupid one next year.

And he would probably never get one.

She was such a nice person sometimes.

She would make sure to tell Ryan that on Monday.

Ryan wasn't sure how much of it was that they genuinely liked each other and how much of it was because they knew that it would drive Michael crazy, but Ryan and Toby had become friendly.

It started with all the complaints Ryan had. He wasn't usually much of a complainer; would rather have no interaction with these people at all, but once your male boss tells everyone how he'd choose you to sleep with... well sometimes you had to talk to someone.

And Toby was a good listener. Just took things down and shook his head a lot.

Michael would get so angry when he'd look for Ryan for some humiliating errand and find him in the annex talking to "a loser." And then Michael would make some comment about Toby's divorce, or current lack of girlfriend, or prior need for antidepressants, and wait for Ryan to join him in the scorn.

When he didn't get the reaction he wanted, Michael would tell Ryan to do some kind of pointless task, telling him one day he'd thank Michael for rescuing him from the horrors in the annex.

Okay Michael.

Ryan and Toby went out for beers after one particularly humiliating day (Ryan had been sexually harassed and Toby had just been harassed).

Ryan told him about friends of his - friends who currently worked at places where their bosses didn't comment on their physique, where their coworkers weren't quite as quirky or obnoxious. His best friend from childhood, Ryan said, was working for some finance company in London.

London.

Not Scranton.

"Never been to London," Toby said thoughtfully.

"Me neither," Ryan said. "You said you went to Amsterdam though, right?"

"Right. Awhile ago. When I needed to get away."

"Amsterdam," Ryan repeated. He really needed to start travelling more. Making contacts, expanding his knowledge and experiences. He was always thinking ahead. "And what did you do in Amsterdam?"

Toby opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to change his mind. Finally he said, "I'm not really too clear on what I did. I was just sort of there."

Of course, Ryan thought, immediately understanding.

It made sense.

And that, from what he heard, was a great reason to go to Amsterdam.

And then, because he was enjoying this kind of camraderie with a coworker who was reasonably sane, he told Toby he had bought some stuff from Creed, which he was a little nervous about, and did Toby want to sample some with him.

"I should really say no."

He didn't though. And so the two of them went to Toby's and sampled some of Creed's stuff, agreeing that they had had better.

Ryan had his eyes closed and heard Toby say, sounding very regretful, "I could really get fired for this."

Ryan opened his eyes. "Fired for what?"

"Yeah," Toby said. Then he said, "Drugs. Let's not and say we did."

Ryan snorted, remembering Michael's lecture last week. "More people will use cocaine than read a book to their kids."

Toby laughed. "You know his head would just explode if he knew about this, right?"

"Yeah." It was a nice thought. "Hey, thanks for the grilled cheese by the way. It's really good."

"Secret recipe. Preferred by six-year-olds and stoned temps everywhere."

And then they were both quiet, because it was kind of weird. Ryan knew he probably shouldn't be doing this kind of thing with a coworker.

Although he supposed if he was going to it might as well be with the HR rep.

But still something about it just seemed kind of wrong.

They probably wouldn't be doing this ever again.

"This is really weird," Ryan said. "I feel like I'm smoking with my favorite teacher or something."

Toby laughed again. "I'm smoking with the temp. I feel like I'm corrupting today's youth."

Ryan closed his eyes again, feeling very relaxed. Away from Michael, from Dwight, from Kelly, who had already left him several indecipherable text messages and a few hysterical-sounding voice messages, begging him to call her.

Kelly could wait.

"I applied for a job a few weeks ago," Toby confessed out of nowhere. "But when they called me I lied and said I wasn't available for an interview."

That didn't make any sense to Ryan. "Why would you do that?"

"I don't know. Part of me is regretting it. But it was in Philadelphia, too far from Sasha. She only lives twenty minutes away from me now and that's way too far." He sighed a very sad-sounding, shuddering kind of sigh and Ryan worried for a second he'd start crying. What would Ryan do if that happened? But Toby only said, "And then I had this really weird thought. What if the boss is worse than Michael? I don't know if that's even possible, but what if? I mean the devil you know..."

"Yeah," Ryan said, "but not all bosses are devils."

That was very philosophical. He was pretty impressed with himself.

"True."

"I would have interviewed," Ryan said. "I mean yeah I don't have a daughter or anything to worry about, but I would love to get away from this terrible job."

"You're a temp," Toby said, and his voice, kind but also slightly disappointed, made Ryan think his earlier "favorite teacher" comment was spot-on. "Call your agency and have them move you. This isn't the only job around."

"I know," Ryan said.

Neither of them said anything. Ryan picked at the remains of his sandwich.

"I'm going to own my own company some day."

Toby looked at him. "Really?"

"Definitely. And I'll need an HR person. So I'll hire you away. I mean it."

Toby smiled at him. It was a very tired-looking smile. "Okay Ryan."

He said it like he didn't quite believe him.

"Maybe I'll end up running Dunder Mifflin," Ryan said.

"That's very ambitious."

Damn straight it was.

"And if that happens," Ryan said, "I promise I'll have your back. I'll look out for you."

Another tired smile.

"Okay Ryan. I'm holding you to that."

That was good, because Ryan always kept his promises.

His cell phone rang again. Kelly.

He ignored it.

“There’s nothing wrong with what I said. Oscar’s wearing a sweater and he’s a gay man, therefore he’s wearing a gay sweater. It’s like if I said Toby was wearing lame pants. Toby is lame and he’s wearing pants. Same thing.”

Toby looked down at his pants for a second, before looking at Oscar, apologetic. “It’s not the same thing, Michael. It’s offensive…”

“You’re the one who’s offensive.”

Oscar cleared his throat. He was regretting even bringing Michael’s comment up to Toby. “Maybe we should--”

“Oscar,” Michael said. “You’re my gay friend. And I accept your lifestyle. In fact, if you told me who you wanted to sleep with right now, even though I would be gagging on the inside, I would still respect your choices.”

All Oscar wanted now was to get back to work. “Uh…thank you?”

“I bet you’d choose Ryan though. To sleep with. But too bad for you. Because I asked him once and he’s completely straight. Like me.”

Wait.

What?

“Michael,” Toby began. “This conversation is really inappropriate.”

Michael looked at Oscar, a small sneer on his face. “I know who you wouldn’t sleep with.” He nodded in Toby’s direction. “You wouldn‘t want him, right?”

“What?” Oscar said. His head was starting to pound. “Wait. No.”

“Gay, straight, fat, crippled, no one would ever sleep with you, Toby,” Michael said. He looked pleased, as if Oscar had just confirmed something important for him. Michael smirked at Toby. "No one."

Oscar had now forgotten what he had been complaining about. He looked back at Toby, now staring at the ground, deflated. And this whole situation was now so ridiculous that Oscar found himself saying in his best are you kidding me voice, the one he usually reserved for Kevin or Angela, “No one would ever sleep with him? He has a daughter. What was that? Immaculate conception?” And then before Michael could compare an increasingly upset looking Toby to Satan or even worse say something about him not being the girl's real father, Oscar asked, “How is your daughter by the way? Any new pictures?”

Toby seemed surprised, probably still processing this absurd, insulting conversation or maybe because Oscar had never shown any interest in pictures of his daughter before. “I have pictures from Halloween. She was a fairy.”

“You’re going to let him say that?” Michael asked Oscar. “You, Toby, are homoph…homophob… are not as open-minded as I am and you can bet Corporate will be hearing about this.”

After Michael stormed off to his office, Toby handed Oscar the complaint form. “You know the drill.”

“Thanks,” Oscar said. “The funny thing is I hate this sweater. Gil got it for me.”

“Oh,” Toby said. Then, “You know when I said fairy, I meant like little girl with wings and a wand, right?”

“Of course. Michael was just…” Then he frowned. “About what Michael said to you.”

Toby shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I was just really caught off-guard.”

“You don’t need to explain anything to me. This has to be a comfortable place for every employee, no matter their orientation. And you shouldn’t have to justify anything to anyone.”

“Yes,” Oscar said. “And that would be wonderful if that were actually possible here. But what I wanted to say was the reason I said no was because I try not to think about people from work, especially when they‘re straight. Not because you‘re horrible or repulsive or anything. Because you're not.”

That only seemed to fluster Toby more. “We… really shouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

And after a very awkward silence, Oscar said, “I bet Europe’s nice this time of year.”

Toby looked confused. Then he smiled slightly, comprehending. "Take this company for all it's worth.”

“I’ll try.”

“Well, I should get back to the annex. If you need anything else…”

“Okay.”

“Oscar?”

Oscar looked up from the form. “Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

When Oscar was alone, he scratched at his arms, his neck.

He really did hate this damned sweater.

Even if it had just paid for another trip to Europe.

The duck was distracting her.

Karen knew she should pay attention to Toby explaining their dental plan - after all she was the one who had come down to the annex with questions and it was hard enough to hear Toby sometimes, because he tended to mumble and slur just a little bit - but the duck in all its bright yellow glory would not be ignored.

“Why do you have a duck on your desk?” she interrupted.

He blinked and then looked at the duck too, puzzled, as if he weren't sure what it was doing there either. “I’m trying to get rid of it.”

“Why?”

He sat back in his chair, tapped his fingers against his desk. “Because it’s a... loser duck.”

Okay then.

Loser duck?

Maybe that was a Scranton thing.

“I---” Toby said, “won it for someone who didn’t want it.” He shook his head, looking bewildered by his own actions. “I spent so much money on that stupid claw machine.” He shook his head again. “I used all my laundry quarters.”

The way he said it was almost heartbreaking. It made her want to empty her purse looking for spare quarters for him.

“That sucks,” she said. And then, “Whoever it was, she’s not worth it.”

What did she know though? Suddenly she was the expert on relationships?

“I never stood a chance,” he said. “She’s…interested in someone else.”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes and she suddenly knew.

Pam.

What was it about Pam? Why was every man here in love with her?

“Tell me something,” she said, trying to keep bitterness out of her voice. “What is it about her?”

She would ask Toby this, because she was not able to ask Jim.

He finally met her eyes. “She’s nice to me.”

She was surprised by the simplicity of his answer. “That’s it?”

“It’s enough.”

“But there are plenty of women who’d be nice to you, Toby.”

He smiled, one of those weird sad smiles of his, and said, “You’d be surprised, Karen.”

She could almost cry at that.

How resigned he was.

And that was something she did not understand. She admittedly did not know Toby all that well, but she could tell he was intelligent.
Very nice, if a little on the reserved side.

Which was fine.

And he had a sort of rumpled appeal about him.

The sadness thing could work for him too; some women would see it as a challenge, wanting to cheer him up.

Wondering what it would take to make him happy.

To get that look of hopelessness out of his eyes.

“Don’t give up,” she said. “Don’t ever lose hope.”

She didn’t know why his well-being was suddenly so important to her.

She barely knew him.

Yet she had the sudden desire to hug him, to wrap her arms tightly around him and tell him everything would be okay.

He looked like he really needed to be hugged.

That would be weird though.

And she could probably be written up for something like that, right?

She decided against the hug.

She still wanted to do something though.

So she placed her hand on his, startling him. He watched her, looking almost suspicious before relaxing a little, and she suddenly had a very unsettling thought.

I would think it was sweet if a guy won me a duck.

And then she had an even stranger thought.

If I had met you before I met Jim, I think I'd want to be the one to make you happy.

And that thought was a little too strange to process so she removed her hand from his and stood up quickly, banging her leg against the chair in the process.

Smooth.

“Thank you, Karen,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome,” she said, wincing a little. “Remember what I said. Don’t lose hope. Don't give up.”

He nodded. “I’ll try.”

“And get that damn duck off your desk.”

As she slowly hobbled away, she smiled when she heard Toby offer the duck to Kelly.

--

It was good advice, she thought later to herself.

Don’t lose hope. Don’t give up.

She actually believed that.

Which was why she wouldn’t meet Jim’s eyes when she told him that she thought Pam and Toby would make a cute couple.

She knew she wouldn’t want to see his reaction.

Jim and Pam had laughed about it at first.

Not because it was funny, because it really wasn't.

They laughed because it was so crazy.

Showing up at work with a young woman, announcing that this woman was your girlfriend and then proceeding to kiss her in front of an audience despite how uncomfortable everyone was...

It was something Michael might have done.

The fact that it was Toby was what made it so strange and Jim and Pam had made a few comments about it that night, wondering what was up with that. Who that woman was.. If she even was his girlfriend.

Toby was in love with Pam, Jim knew. And maybe that was just his way of dealing with it.

Toby was also really uncooperative with the relationship disclosure forms and was, in general, snippy towards Jim at the Finer Things Club meeting.

Jim wasn't that bothered by it. To be honest, he didn't really think about it much. He was still in that blissful stage of being with Pam and work was... not horrible. Life was good.

One day they were having some sort of party celebrating something or other and he was standing chatting with Pam when Toby walked over.

"Hey Toby," Jim said pleasantly.

"Hey," Toby said. "Look, Dwight wanted me to talk to you about... well about several things you may or may not have done to him."

Jim looked over at Dwight, standing in a corner, smirking at him.

"Do we have to do this now?" Jim asked, irritated.

Yes, he was irritated. But at Dwight who had been insufferable lately, not at Toby who was only doing his job.

Jim saw the slightest flash of anger in Toby's eyes before he said, "No, of course we don't. Whenever you have the free time, Jim."

Toby sounded very snippy again.

Snippiness and snarkiness seemed so out-of-place on Toby.

It was like getting attitude from a puppy.

"Jim," Michael said coming up behind him. "Is Toby bugging you? Cause I'll bounce him from the party. I don't even know what he's doing here in the first place."

Toby sighed. "No need. I'll leave."

Still irritated, Jim took his time. He had a few cookies, drank some punch, goofed around with Pam. Then, when he was ready, he walked back to the annex.

Toby had his back to him, typing up what looked like some kind of report.

"Okay," Jim said. "I'm here. What did I do to Dwight this time?"

"No, we'll do it later," Toby said, not taking his eyes off the computer screen. "I know now's not a good time for you."

So snippy.

"What's with you?" Jim asked, impatient. "Seriously. It's getting old."

"Sorry," Toby said, still looking at the screen.

Jim didn't leave. Finally Toby sighed again and turned around so he was facing Jim. "What?"

He didn't sound snippy anymore.

Jim was about to say something, but stopped as he looked at Toby. Really looked at him. And Jim realized something.

Toby looked awful.

Exhausted. Down to your bones exhausted.

Circles under the eyes.

He looked older.

Jim tried to remember how old Toby was. Forty maybe? His birthday had been several months ago. Per tradition, Michael had "celebrated" by yelling "Happy Birthday, Creep" to him in the parking lot on a Friday night.

And then Jim remembered how Toby had hesitatingly yet somewhat annoyingly asked to be included in the birthdays celebration the day Jim had been in charge. Jim also remembered how, stressed out, he had dismissed Toby, later mocking him and his soft yet kind of whiny voice to the camera.

That had not been one of Jim's shining moments.

He and Toby used to sit together until Michael separated them for talking too much. Jim used to babysit Sasha; Toby had helped him move.

They used to socialize outside of work.

They hadn't done anything like that in awhile.

"You've been acting so weird lately," Jim said.

"I know. And unprofessional."

Jim had not been expecting that. The immediate acknowledgment. "I know," Jim said awkwardly, beginning a conversation he did not want to have, "that you're in love with Pam."

"I'm not."

"You're not?" Jim asked, confused. "But you wouldn't let us sign the documents and you brought in some girl..."

"I know," Toby said, cutting him off. "But I'm...not in love with her. I like her a lot. A crush...whatever," Toby mumbled, looking down, embarrassed. "I don't know. I just liked hoping that something could happen. That hope made coming into work easier. And when the hope was gone..." Toby frowned again, shaking his head.

Jim really hadn't been expecting all that.

Toby seemed a little surprised by his admission as well.
"I'm sorry," Jim said uncomfortably.

Even though he didn't quite know what he was apologizing for.

"Don't. You don't need to apologize for anything." Toby gave him a quick, forced-looking smile. "And I should get back to work. I have a mountain of complaints from Dwight to sort through. Maple syrup, Jim? Really?"

"He was being really annoying that day. But I used Grade A. Nothing but the best."

Jim grinned and Toby smiled a little. More naturally this time.

Toby's smile faded. "I'm really sorry, Jim. For how I've been acting."

"Apology accepted."

So that was easy. But Jim still felt a little unsettled. He had the feeling that something else had to be going on with Toby and his recent odd behavior, something more than just an unrequited crush.
And Jim had to ask, "It's not just Pam, is it?"

Toby met his eyes, looking as if he was debating saying anything, before confirming sadly, "No. It's not just Pam."

Neither of them said anything and Jim wondered if he should just go to back to the party and leave Toby alone with his work.

But then he thought about how miserable Toby seemed.

And he didn't feel right just leaving.

Instead he went over to Kelly's side and grabbed her chair. Scooted it back so he was now sitting facing Toby.

"What's been going on?" Jim asked. "Something's obviously wrong."

"I'm okay," Toby said, clearly lying. "You should go back to the party. Everyone's probably wondering where you are."

"The party can wait."

"Kelly might be coming back soon."

"So I'll give her her chair back and sit on the floor. I'm serious. I want to know what's been going on."

Toby seemed to be wavering slightly. "I...don't know if it would be a good idea."

"It would be," Jim said. "And I'm not leaving until you talk to me."

Jim crossed his arms, showing him he meant business.

And Toby must have believed him, because, sounding resigned but at the same time looking almost relieved, he started talking.

The end