Story Notes:
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.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Spoilers up to "Cocktails," US 03X17. This is a post-episode fic. Sort of my personal self-indulgence, if you will. This is first of two parts.
===
"Michael, you're late." Dwight immediately jumped out of his desk at the sight of Michael quickly veering past Pam's desk and into his office. Michael was usually "late," as in, he arrived around 9:30 am, when everyone else arrived by 9 am or earlier. Today, however, Michael was exceptionally late. It was 10:45 am.
"I don't want to talk about it, Dwight. I had a personal emergency at home."
"Incontinence?"
"God -- Dwight -- no, I mean --"
"Three out of five Americans over the age of fifty experience it at some point, Michael."
"Dwight, seriously. How old do you think I am?"
"I don't know," Dwight started to say. "Forty-two..."
"Barely, just -- get out of my office, jeez." Michael literally shoved Dwight out while closing the door on him. He looked at the camera, and gave it a sheepish smile.
===
"Seriously. It hasn't been the best morning." Michael frowned at the camera. He glanced to the side. "Um. My Wake-n-Bacon malfunctioned, and caused a small fire... I mean, honestly. Who makes a bacon-cooking alarm clock out of wood, anyway? Not really ... the best idea."
===
"Did you hear Michael's bed caught on fire this morning?" Pam leaned against the counter in the kitchen, waiting for her cup of water in the microwave to heat up. She swung a tea bag, suspended from a string, around in circles.
Jim couldn't stop staring at it. He glanced up at Pam, realizing what she'd just said. "Wait -- what? He set his bed on fire? How?"
Pam chuckled. "Well, he bought some new alarm clock off eBay called the Wake-n-Bacon."
They both tittered at that, remembering Michael's previous disaster involving bacon and a certain George Foreman grill.
"And ... apparently ... it kind of malfunctioned and caught on fire."
"Wait ... seriously, how does an alarm clock catch on fire, Pam?"
"Well, I guess it's not just an alarm clock. I know this, because Michael put me in charge of ordering it, since," Pam made a face, "he can't navigate his way around e-mail, let alone eBay. Instead of an actual alarm, about ten minutes before your "alarm" would go off --" Pam made the air quotes, "-- it starts cooking bacon, so that you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked bacon."
"Of course," Jim said, nodding. "It's so perfectly Michael."
"Yes," Pam said, smiling at him. For the first time in weeks, she felt a warmth spread through her. How much did she just want this back? This easy banter, this friendship, the joking? She missed that. She missed Jim. Ever since... well, she tried not to think about it, but ever since Karen had brought up the fact that Jim and her had talked about "them," (that was, Jim and Pam), well -- things hadn't been the same. In fact, she almost thought they were both avoiding her lately. It was so nice to be able to just talk to Jim again.
Michael was an easy subject.
"Anyway," Pam continued, "so, the alarm clock is made out of wood, and apparently, something short-circuited, or -- I don't know, and it caught on fire."
Jim's eyes went wide. Pam's face broke out into a grin.
"Yes!" she said. "And the fire spread to Michael's bed, and apparently, he tried putting it out with water, which only made it worse--" She stopped, overcome with laughter. Jim hunched over, caught up in it himself. "And then... I mean, I guess he eventually found a fire extinguisher, but not before he'd totally ruined his bed and his nightstand..."
"Wow," Jim said. "And how did you find this out?"
"Well, you know, Michael called me to let me know he'd be late this morning, and, well -- the whole story just sort of came out."
"Of course," Jim said, nodding. His face was bright and full of amusement.
Pam grinned at him. "I just..." Her voice trailed off as the kitchen door opened and Karen walked in.
"What's so funny, you guys?" she asked, heading straight for the coffee pot.
Pam noticed Karen didn't even look at her. What the hell? If she was less of a person, she might have said something.
"Um, well, Pam was just sort of explaining, uh ... why Michael was late this morning," Jim said.
"Why was that?" Karen asked, looking between them.
Pam almost felt like she was trying to catch them in a lie. "Um," Pam said, "well, Michael's, um, alarm clock caught on fire..."
"What?" Karen asked. "How?"
Pam realized that even the truth seemed too ridiculous to be true. On the other hand, that was the reality of working with Michael Scott. Pam looked at Jim and shrugged.
"See," Jim started, "he bought this alarm clock called the 'Wake-n-Bacon...'"
Reaching into the microwave, Pam grabbed her mug and quickly headed out of the kitchen. Jim could explain the story to his girlfriend just fine. She had no reason to be there anymore.
===
"Attention, everyone, I'd like to make an announcement," Michael said, standing at the front of the room, near Pam's desk. "Um, some of the managers, and, uh, upper-level employees are aware of this development," Michael glanced over at Dwight, who smiled proudly and pointed at himself, "but, um, Jan and I came out at the Cocktail party."
"You and Jan are gay, Michael?" Kevin asked.
"No, Kevin. Damn it," Michael quickly realized what he'd said, glancing over at Oscar, who was avoiding his gaze. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that -- Seinfeld -- heh," Michael snorted. "But, um. No, what I mean is -- we're official. We are officially a couple. We are engaged in a serious adult relationship, a, um, private, but sexually-active relationship..."
"Are you sure Jan would want you to say that, Michael?" Jim asked, looking up at him.
"Well, yeah," Michael's voice went low. "Maybe not, but, um ... okay!" he said, getting back to himself. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know, since, you know, it's official now, and all -- we've registered with HR, so..."
"We kind of figured you guys were together when that, um, vacation picture surfaced," Pam said.
"Yes, but, that wasn't -- necessarily Jan, by the way," Michael said.
"Oh, right," Jim piped in. "That was Urkel Gru, correct?"
"Something like that, look -- it really doesn't matter at this point, what matters is, Jan and I are deeply in love, and --"
"Actually, Jan said she never said she loved you," Dwight said.
"I -- she never said she didn't, either, Dwight. Look, our relationship is complicated ... it's ... abtruse..."
"Don't you mean abstruse?" Karen asked.
"Yes ... maybe ... I mean, just -- whatever, anyway, Jan's my girlfriend now, so, you know -- treat her with respect."
"Is she the top, Michael, since she's your boss?" Kevin asked.
"Kevin, that's -- inappropriate. And ... maybe."
"Wow, I so did not want to know that," Jim said. He gave the camera a look.
"Okay, everyone, get back to work," Michael said, turning on his heel and heading back into his office.
===
Kevin and Meredith were already sitting at the back table in the break room when Jim and Karen walked in. Not thinking anything of it, Jim sat down, pulling his pre-made salad and half-sandwich out of a grocery bag. Karen stood in front of the vending machine. "Do you want any chips, Jim?"
"No thanks," Jim said, pulling open the plastic lid of the rectangular container. It made a loud cracking noise as he did so. "So," Jim said, stabbing into a piece of lettuce, "how did Happy Hour go?"
"I had a good time," Meredith said, nodding. "We played a bunch of drinking games."
Jim glanced over at her. She was sipping from a large travel coffee mug and didn't appear to have any lunch in front of her. Jim wondered if she ever actually 'ate' lunch. "Hm," he replied. "I imagine it was probably better than the cocktail party I went to."
"Oh, c'mon, Jim," Karen said, sitting down with a bag of plain kettle chips. "Don't be modest." She raised her eyebrows at Kevin and Meredith. "Jim got to play basketball with the CFO, David Wallace."
"Get out!" Meredith said. "Is he cute?"
"Oh, yeah, totally," Jim said sarcastically. "We made out behind the garage."
"He's married," Karen said.
Meredith shrugged.
"Anyway," Jim said, "I mean, I played basketball with him, but it totally wasn't a big deal, I mean -- he made a comment about how much he hated those kinds of parties and asked if I wanted to shoot some hoops." Jim half-smiled. "It was actually the best part of the night."
"What about the part where I totally got you?" Karen asked. She leaned over, nudging Jim with her arm. "I actually liked that part."
"You would," Jim mumbled. He glanced up at their tablemates. "Yeah, Karen had me convinced she dated half of Dunder-Mifflin management on Friday night," Jim said.
"Did you?" Kevin asked.
"No," Karen said. "It was a joke. I mean ... most of it, anyway."
Jim looked at her. "What do you mean, most of it? You told me it was a joke."
"Well," Karen said, looking sheepish. "I mean, the first one was true." Jim's eyes went wide. Karen quickly continued: "I mean, it didn't really end that badly, and all the other guys, I mean -- I was just trying to rile you up, you know."
"Hm," Jim said, turning back to his salad. He didn't look at her.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," Jim said. "I just thought ... you know, that they were all a joke, I mean, whatever. It's not a big deal."
"Why?" Karen asked. She leaned forward, smiling up at Jim. "Are you ... jealous?"
"No," Jim said, his voice flat. "It happened before we were dating. I'm just a little surprised, that's all." He glanced over in her direction. Her expression had fallen. "Anyway, like I said, it really doesn't matter now, anyway."
"Right," Karen said. "Of course it doesn't matter. We've moved on."
"Definitely," Jim said.
An uncomfortable silence filled the room while the four co-workers crunched, munched, and sipped. Jim could feel Karen's leg shaking under the table. She did that when she was nervous. Jim sighed. Time to change the subject.
"So, you guys had a good time at Happy Hour?" Jim said, deciding to go for a safe topic.
"Oh, yeah," Kevin said. "I almost forgot -- Roy broke the bar. And, uh --" Jim watched Kevin glance at Karen and then back at him. "You're probably in trouble."
"What?" Jim asked, at the same time Karen said,
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh - ho, ho," Meredith chuckled under her breath. She took another long slug from her coffee mug.
Kevin leaned across the table, lowering his voice. "I don't know exactly what happened, but Pam and Roy were talking, and the next thing I heard was something like Roy saying that you came onto Pam and then he threw a glass at the bar. And then Kenny and Roy starting smashing the bar up."
"Who's Kenny?" Karen asked.
"Roy's brother," Kevin said. "We left after that, but I heard from Darryl that they had to pay off the bar so they wouldn't get arrested and it was a lot of money. Darryl also said that Roy wants to come after you."
"Why would Roy want to come after Jim?" Karen asked.
Just as she started asking this question, the door opened, and Kelly and Pam walked in.
"Um," Jim said. He quickly glanced back and forth between Pam and Karen. Now would be a good time to leave the room. He glanced down at his half-eaten salad, and got up, throwing it into the trash. "I really ... have a lot of work to do."
Karen also stood up, defiant.
Uh-oh, Jim thought.
"No, Jim. Why would Roy want to come after you, Jim?" She looked directly at Pam. "Maybe Pam could answer this one." The smirk on her face belied her true motivation. It wasn't just curiosity that drove the question.
"Um," Pam said.
"Are you kidding me?" Kelly said. Everyone turned to look at her. "Pam and Roy were totally engaged and then she broke it off last summer and now Roy thinks that Jim's the reason why she broke it off!"
"Kelly--" Pam started to say, but it was already too late. The damage was done.
Jim's jaw hung open, unable to speak. Pam's eyes had turned into saucers and Kevin blew a deep breath out through his mouth.
"I can't fucking believe you," Karen hissed, slapping Jim in the face. She stormed out of the room, almost slamming into the cameraman on the other side as she did so. The blinds clanged against the glass for several seconds before stopping.
"Wow," Kevin said.
Both Pam and Jim turned and shot him a dirty look. Just then, Michael walked into the room.
"What's going on in here? You guys look like someone just died," he said.
"Karen just found out--" Kelly started, but Pam quickly interrupted her.
"Kelly, just -- shut the hell up," she said, quickly leaving the room.
"Wow. Someone's really ridin' the crimson wave today," Michael said. "Sheesh."
===
"Karen! Karen!"
By the time Jim caught up to her, she was already on the elevator, giving him the middle finger as the door closed.
"Damn it," he muttered to himself, taking the stairs two at a time. He finally caught her in the lobby, and grabbed her arm. "Karen," he said, "listen to me. It's not what you think. I mean, everything I told you was true --"
"Let go of me," she yelled at him, which roused the attention of Cliff, the building security guard. He glanced up from his paper.
"Do you need any help, miss?" Cliff asked, which immediately caused Jim to let go.
"No," she said indignantly. "Thank you, though." With that, Karen stomped out of the building into the parking lot.
Jim followed her, not paying attention so that he ran into the door on his way out. He swore under his breath. "Karen -- wait!"
"I have absolutely nothing to say to you, Jim Halpert. For five nights -- five nights, we talked about your past, and not once in those five nights did you happen to mention the very important detail that Pam was engaged when you told her about your 'crush,' which -- by the way -- I'm beginning -- no, I pretty much know -- wasn't exactly just a crush. And if it was -- I mean, God, Jim ..."
"Karen, it was ... complicated, I mean --"
"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. You were probably in love with her and you're probably still in love with her, and you'll never have those feelings for me, that's what I know!" At this point, tears were starting to come down Karen's face, and she struggled with her keyless entry to get her car open. "Damn it!" she cursed aloud.
"Karen," Jim said, gently touching her with his hand.
"No, Jim," she said, turning to him, her face red and streaked with tears. "Not now -- not ever. This is over. You can let Michael know that my resignation is effective immediately. Just ... go back to your stupid precious receptionist, Jim. I don't ... fucking ... care!"
"I..." Jim started, as she got into her car and peeled off and out of the parking lot. Wow. He had not expected that to happen.
Unable to think, and not wanting to go back into the office and deal with the questions and stares and rumors and explanations, he sat down on the bench in front of the building, resting his head in his hands. What kind of mess had his life turned into? He was in love with one girl (who apparently didn't want him), dating another girl (who had moved to Scranton for him), and now Roy wanting to kick his ass? Not that he hadn't expected that, but honestly, Jim was surprised Pam hadn't said anything about it to Roy earlier. Had she? It was just strange that this was all coming up now. He wondered if Pam was still with Roy. Obviously, they'd gotten into an argument at the bar, but it wouldn't have been the first time that had happened. Pam used to complain about Roy all the time when she was engaged to him.
Jim sighed, leaning his head back, and looked up. His breath formed puffs in front of him.
A voice startled him out of his thoughts: "Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here, Halpert."
Jim jolted his head to see Roy standing in front of him, mashing his fists together. Oh, fuck.
===
