Jim stopped at his car.
"Aw, crap."
"What?" Karen asked, her hand already on the passenger door.
"I forgot my iPod." He pointedly looked at her hand. "Are you not taking your car home?"
"I thought we were going to dinner."
"Were we? Um, Ok, fine with me, I guess. Here..." He unlocked the car. "I'll be back in a sec." He watched her settle in to his car and fold her arms. She did not move to shut the door, so he walked around and did it for her. "Just a minute." He jogged back to the building, swallowing a nameless irritation that had been dogging him all day. She was great, really great. And, she wanted to be with him. A lot. So he should be happy. Just a year ago, he was moping around playing Mr. Solitary and, frankly, it sucked. So, really, he shouldn't be annoyed by her presumption about dinner.
But, he was.
He jabbed at the elevator button three times, and then impatiently headed for the stairwell. He took the steps two at a time, and swiftly entered the office. It was dim, lit only by the single floor lamp by the reception desk. As he rounded the corner, he froze.
Pam was at his desk -- Ryan's desk -- oh, hell. The empty desk where..... Jim stood, stock still.
She sat, rigidly upright in the chair, staring down at the blank surface. Her palms lay flat, and she smoothed them gently over the surface, as though she were straightening wrinkles from an invisible tablecloth. A single brand new unsharpened pencil lay on the surface of the desk, which was otherwise bare, giving no hint of any significance to anyone. Jim took a step forward, and then stopped dead when he realized.
She was crying.
Her face was wet, and massive tears fell unhindered from her eyes. She let out a choking gasp, and her head dropped, her cheek resting against the empty desktop. Her shoulders shook violently, and the air was filled with great gulping sobs.
"Pam?" He felt like his voice sounded very far away. "Are you OK?"
She looked up and stared directly into his eyes. She should have been surprised to see him there, she didn't show it if she was.
"No." she said flatly. She held his gaze, her face expressionless, but the tears still rolling down her cheeks. She did startle a little when the elevator dinged.
Jim turned and hurriedly went back to the reception area to intercept the interloper before they intruded on Pam's obvious sorrow. Of course. It was Karen.
"What the heck, Halpert? Did you get lost?"
"Um....No...uh, I just remembered I have to finish a report...why don't I just catch up with you later?"
Her eyes narrowed and flitted briefly to the coatrack, where Pam's coat hung rather conspicuously. "Why don't you just come to my place?" Was it just his imagination, or did her voice suddenly become louder? "We can skip dinner and go straight to dessert."
"Um, yeah, I'll just talk to you later." He found himself annoyed as she pressed against him, kissing him and running her hands down his back. "Bye." He watched her get back on the elevator, shaking his head when he was sure the doors were closed.
When he turned around, the kitchen door was swinging shut. The desk was empty, except for that single pencil, snapped neatly in two.
Story Notes:
I don't own any of the intellectual property here, just the less-than-intellectual plotline and dialogue, and even that is dubious. I certainly don't own any characters, settings, or other official Office stuff. Sucks to be me, huh?
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I started writing fanfic as an antidote to the angst on the regular show, which was eating me alive. So how the heck did I come to start writing such an angsty story? At least I can promise you a little resolution.....
