It was past seven and she couldn’t believe that she was actually doing this because it was cold out, and she could have been home … but here she was, breaking speed limits trying to get there as quickly as possible. So Dwight could tech her about love …where had she gone wrong.

She had envisioned a great many strange and terrible scenarios, but when she heard Metallica -- and what sounded like a dying bird through the door, she paused and considered just turning around and going home. Before she knew it, a considerably rumpled Dwight opened the door and gazed at her with confusion.

“What are you doing here? You’re not in my Karate class,” he said bouncing back and forth between his feet. She cautiously pushed past him and headed straight for the stereo, quickly pausing the CD player.

Dwight was heading for a bottle of what she hoped was wine, swaying in a way that would have seemed normal, if it wasn’t Dwight.

“Are you okay?” Pam asked.

“So you’re joining the self defence class – excellent!”

“No,” Pam said slowly. “ You invited me here to -- um -- learn how to dance.”

“I am an excellent dancer, Angela said … oh blah, just -- turn on the music again”

She nodded, pressing play and turning down the volume. She watched Dwight for signs that he had any idea what he was doing,unconciously tapping her foot to the beat.

“Pam,” Dwight said. “Let me be frank. You are a terrible dancer. If you really want Jim you’ll have to act cool. Like me and the Jedi.”

“The Jedi?” Pam mouthed to herself. She looked back at Dwight. “Okay, what do I do?”

“Just watch me”

She watched patiently as Dwight went through a series of moves that appeared to be a mix of disco and karate - with a few air-guitar solos sprinkled thoughout. He stopped three times to tie his shoes before he motioned for her to stop the stereo and walked towards her.

“Are you ready to begin? Good. First you must bow and acknowledge - verbally -- my superiority on the dance floor.”

Pam grimaced and stiffly leaned forward a little.

“Hmm, needs work,” Dwight said, frowning.

They’d been trying various dances for the past two minutes, and Pam – so far, had stepped on his feet four times, poked him in the side (accidently) and almost fallen over twice.

“Well,” Dwight continued, “you need all the time we have, so we’d better start. First your stance must always accommodate for attack -- from the front and back. Motions should be unpredictable, but polished. Although you may never achieve the true skills I posses I think you will achieve a level of mediocrity many will envy.”

“Thank you for that, Dwight – I think,” Pam said, trying not to make a face.

“Question: are you familiar with Ausdruckstanz and if so are you interested in extensive training?”

This was going to be a long night

***

Dwight was draped over a pile of mats by the end of the night and Pam felt she would probably have “Hit The Lights” stuck in her head forever. Not to mention where her arm hurts from where Dwight accidentally smacked her, doing a guitar solo.

The next day, at work, Dwight looked the same as always but he suddenly tilted his head towards Jim and did what he calls “pulling the beet” and she found herself grinning wildly.

This was going to be an interesting day (Look out Jim Halpert.)